Man Through the Ages __

Alexei Losev Aza Takho-Godi

Plato

Progress Publishers

Man Through @

Alexei Losev Aza Takho-Godi |

Plat«

Yi

Progress Publishers Moscow

Translated from the Russian by Patricia Beryozkina Designed by Vadim Novikov

A. ®. Jloces, A. A. Taxo-Froun NAATOH

Ha aneaudcKom R3vIKe

© Aercxan auteparypa, 1977 English translation © Progress Publishers 1990

Printed in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics 0301030000-260 014(01)-90

ISBN 5-01-001986-8

6-90

CONTENTS

Page Chapter One. Early Life. . . . . . ...... 5 Chapter Two. Plato and Socrates. . . ote le Sane 15 Chapter Three. One in Search of the Truth . we) : 40 Chapter Four. The Sicilian Tyrant— Dionysius the Elder . ; 46 Chapter Five. The Academy. . . 53 Chapter Six. The v Eaentenee Tyranny of Dionysius nthe Younger... 63 Chapter Seven. Plato—the Classical Philosopher. a) ae 77 Chapter Eight. Platonic Idealism. . . ot ees 86 Chapter Nine. Plato’s Dialogues—the Drama of ideas: . . 102 Chapter Ten. The Self-Rejection of Drama. . . . . . = 127 Chapter Eleven. The Illusion of Reality. . . . . . . 4132 Chapter Twelve. Plato: Myth-Maker and Utopian. . . . 142 Chapter Thirteen. The Last Years. . . . . . . ~~. 163 Chapter Fourteen. Eternal Philosophy. . . . . . . . 173 Name Index Sige ten: Ween OS ae 183 187

Subject Index .

Chapter One

EARLY LIFE

The birth of Plato is surrounded by legend: the Greeks themselves called him “divine” because of his wisdom. It should be noted, however, that the lives of virtually all the early great thinkers were connected with fascinating legends that stressed their selectivity and exclusiveness and, thus, their contact with the supernatural world.

The great Homer was blind, but his lack of vision was compensated for by his poetic insight. Mytholo- gical prophets like Tiresias were deprived of their sight by the gods, but they were given the gift of prophesy; they could use their inner vision to see the future. The ancient philosopher had to combine the qualities of both prophet and poet. Like Xenophanes, Parmenides and Empedocles, in whom mythology, poetry and philosophical wisdom merged into an indivisible whole, the ancient philosopher had to ex- press his thoughts in enigmatic verse. Some philosophers, like Heraclitus, for example, were aware of their destiny as prophets and wrote in the obscure, poetic language of symbols, which had to be deciphered just like an oracle’s sayings. Fittingly, Heraclitus is known as ‘the Obscure”.

The stories concerning the lives of the ancient philosophers often defy belief. For example, the legendary Pythagoras traced his origin to the god Apollo and was himself revered as a worker of miracles; Empedocles threw himself into the crater of the active Etna volcano; Thales was glorified as one of the seven wise men; Heraclitus belonged to the clan of the son of King Codrus of Athens. He walked around in a purple robe and wore symbols

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of royalty; Democritus studied with the Magi, possessed the gift of prophesy, and died at the age of one hundred and nine, having postponed his death so that it would not fall on the holiday of the goddess Demeter.

We should not be surprised, therefore, at the ancient tradition that proclaims Plato’s birth to have occurred on the seventh of Thargelion (21 May), a holiday celebrating the birth of the god Apollo on the island of Delos. Moreover, Speusippus, Plato’s nephew and himself a philosopher, wrote in his “Eulogy of Plato” (a lost work) that Apollo was his uncle’s father. Speusippus describes how wise bees once put honey in the mouth of the baby Plato.

Olympiodorus, a commentator on Plato’s works, took up this same subject and described how Apollo appeared to Plato’s mother before she gave birth, and how the parents brought the baby to Hymettus mountain to offer a sacrifice to Apollo, Pan and the nymphs. According to Olympiodorus, while Plato’s parents were going about this noble deed, the bees, for which Hymettus is famous, placed honeycombs in the baby’s mouth, signifying his future sweet gift for speech.

As we see, the legends are many.

Plato was born in 428-427 B.C.* at the height of the internecine Peloponnesian War that was as destruc- tive for democratic Athens as it was for aristocratic Sparta. Both sides were rivals for dominance over the Hellenic city-states.

Plato’s family and his entire clan had close ties with Athens that reached into the distant past, where history and legend were so closely interwoven it was nearly impossible to distinguish between them. It is clear that the young Plato grew up with the realiza- tion that he was directly involved in the most impor- tant events of his city. Legend has it that Plato's ancestors traced their lineage to the god Poseidon and the mortal woman Tyro (whose son, Neleus, the hero of Pylos, was the father of twelve sons by his wife Chloris, including the famous homeric hero Nestor and Periclymenus, one of the Argonauts in

* All dates mentioned in this book are understood to be B.C.— (Author).

Plato

quest of the Golden Fleece). One of Periclymenus’s descendants was Andropompus; his son, Melanthus, was the father of Codrus, the last Athenian ruler and a personage already more historical than mythical. After being driven out of his inherited kingdom of Messenia, Codrus was welcomed in Athens by Timoen- tus, the last descendant of Theseus, who named Codrus the ruler of Athens out of gratitude for the help he had rendered during the war.

Under Codrus’ rule Athens flourished. But a war broke out, and the oracles predicted the enemy's victory unless Codrus was killed. Upon learning of the oracles’ prediction, Codrus decided to sacrifice his life for the sake of his people. Disguised as a beggar, he secretly left the city. While pretending to be collecting firewood, he met with enemy soldiers, who killed him at his provocation. The Athenians gave their ruler an honorable funeral, and their enemies quickly retreated from the city, which was now ruled by a group of elders that included Codrus’ son, Medon (whose descendants were known either as Medonites or Codrites). Exesestides was also a member of this clan which, according to Plutarch, was first among the nobility. Exesestides’s son was Solon, the famous statesman of Athens who was praised for his democratic reforms and who opposed his relative, the tyrant Peisistratus. The lineage of Plato’s parents is traced to Solon and Dropides.

We know little about Plato’s father, Ariston, but the relatives of his mother, Perictione, all left their mark in Athenian social and political life. There were two brothers, Callaeschrus and Glaucon; they were grand- sons of Dropides. Callaeschrus had a son, Critias, who became a politician and the head of the Thirty Tyrants of Athens from 405-404. Perictione was the daughter of Glaucon and a cousin of Critias. Her younger brother, Charmides, also took part in the Thirty Tyrants’ overthrow of the Athenian government. After the death of her husband, Plato's mother married her uncle Pyrilampes, a friend of Pericles. He was extremely rich and a well-known politician. Leogoras, father of the famous orator Andocides, was also a relative of Perictione.

Thus Plato was fated to grow up in a famous

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old family with royal ties and strong aristocratic traditions, a family that could think of the history of Athens as its own. These were people who were fervently involved in matters of state and _ political struggles. Not one of them died peacefully in bed at a ripe old age. They fought in wars and helped to overthrow governments. At the same time they were talented and educated, brilliant orators and poets, intelligent and witty conversationalists, and they had a deep interest in philosophy. Young Plato, as we see, grew up in an environment that destined him for political activity and an all-round education.

However, neither Plato nor his brothers, Glaucon and Adeimantos, nor his step-brother Antiphon took up state affairs. All these young men loved books and poetry and formed friendships with philosophers. Yet none won the poet’s glory of their ancestor Solon, nor the dramatist’s fame of their uncle Critias, nor the orator’s skill of their relative Andocides. Plato became neither poet, nor dramatist, nor orator; he became a great philosopher, whose works are distinguished by their poetic style, their dramatic plots and their convincing oratory.

Plato received an all-round education that cor- responded with the classical idea of the perfect, ideal individual, the idea of ‘“kalokagathia”. A “beautiful” (kalos) and “good” (agathos) person should combine the physical beauty of an immaculate body with inner moral nobility. It was possible to achieve this state by exercise and education begun in childhood. Kaloka- gathia was the ideal of the free-born man who was ready to guard the interests of his city, defend it with arms, observe its laws and glorify it with his own deeds.

Ancient Greek poets and writers had long praised the ideal of the perfect man. The poetess Sappho wrote: “He who is fair to look upon is good, and he who is good will soon be fair also,” thus implying the strength of a person’s inner, spiritual beauty, without which outer, physical beauty was meaningless and empty. Harmony between the external and the internal did not imply insipid uniformity of common virtues. On the contrary, the diverse and even contra- dictory traits of an individual’s character or interests

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Philosopher. A Roman replica of a Greek statue. 3rd c. B.C.

only served to create true harmony. Heraclitus aptly noted: “The hidden harmony is better than the visible”, and ‘The unlike is joined together, and from differences results the most beautiful harmony, and all things take place by strife.’ It is strife between feelings and passions, attachments and predilections that even- tually leads to a rationally balanced man deserving to be called, in the words of the poet Simonides of Ceos (6th-Sth century B.C.), a “rectangular” man, i.e, a man whose capabilities are equally developed. Only diligent study and practice could lead to this wonderful balance, for, in the words of Pittacus, one of the legendary seven wise men, “Truly to become a virtuous man is hard.”

The citizens of Athens, a city famous for its democ- ratic traditions, highly valued kalokagathia, which, it was believed, could be achieved by every free- born man and was exemplified in Solon, Pericles and Sophocles (who wrote tragedies, acted on the stage, sang, danced, played musical instruments and even served, albeit without much distinction, as a military leader and strategist). But it was one thing to value the ideal and another to try to follow it in life. The road to the ideal was long and difficult.

Since childhood Plato was brought up in the spirit of glorified kalokagathia harmony, and he was in no way inferior to either his ancestors or his contempo- raries. He was taught by the finest teachers. The eminent Dionysius taught him reading and writing, music he learned from Draco (the pupil of Damon who taught Pericles himself) and Metellus of Agrigen- tum, and his physical trainer was the wrestler Ariston of Argos. It is believed that Ariston was the one to give the name of “Plato” to his pupil, either because of his broad chest and powerful build or because of his wide forehead.* Plato’s real name was Aristoc- les, the name of his grandfather on his father’s side. So it was that Aristocles, son of Ariston, disappeared, and Plato went down in history.

The young Plato studied painting and learned to use the bright colors that later made his art work famous.

* The Greek platys means broad or broad-shouldered; pla- tos—breadth; platoo—! make wide.— (Author).

He composed tragedies, elegant epigrams and noble dithyrambs in honor of Dionysius, who was revered as the originator of tragedy. He also sang, though he did not have an exceptional voice. Plato especially loved the writers of comedy, Aristophanes and Sophron, and learned from them how to realistically portray characters in his own comedies. All these activities did not prevent Plato from participating in the national Greek Isthmian Games as a wrestler and even winning a prize.

Twenty-five epigrams attributed to Plato have sur- vived to our day. These verses are like miniature paintings, capturing a fleeting moment in time.

Plato also wrote a hexameter on the sleeping Eros, the god of love. The verse paints an idyllic picture of the god’s peaceful sleep.

Plato’s dialogues provide us with beautiful and poetic sketches of nature. We walk by bubbling brooks and lush vegetation; under the wide leaves of the plane-tree, next to a sacred statue of the god, we listen to a meditative conversation about the mean- ing of love (Phaedrus). Or, under the heat of a noonday sun, we might walk along with other exhaust- ed travellers through shady meadows and groves of tak cypresses down a road leading to a temple of Zeus. The travellers, as always in Plato’s works, philosophize and ponder the best form of legislation (Laws). Plato wrote poetry as a youth, Phaedrus in his prime, and Laws when he was near death. But it is evident that all these works were written by the same hand and inspired by the same master. Therefore, we can be sure of the authenticity of a number of elegant epigrams attributed to Plato.

We have here before us the happy life of Plato, a fortunate young man. But this peaceful existence would soon come to an abrupt end. In his native Athens, Plato would meet the philosopher Socrates. This meeting so affects Plato that he burns everything he previously wrote; as tradition has it, he called on the god of fire, Hephaestus, to help him. From now on Plato would live a different life.

As was common in ancient times, legend sprang up around this event, too. It was said that before meeting Plato, Socrates dreamed that a swan was sitting

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mT Mor r

Woodcarver. A painting ona vessel. Greece. 5th c. B.C.

in his lap and then it spread its wings and flew away, uttering a beautiful sound. The swan was the sacred bird of Apollo. Socrates’ dream is filled with symbolic meaning: it presaged his tutorship of Plato and their future friendship.

Chapter Two

PLATO AND SOCRATES

Who was this Socrates who caused such a change in Plato’s life? Unlike the aristocratic Plato, Socrates’ background was humble. He was born around 469 B.C. into the family of a stonemason named Sophro- niscus from the deme* of Alopece; his mother, Phaena- rete, was a midwife.

Socrates was already a middle-aged man when he married Xenthippe. He fathered three children but did not concern himself with everyday needs. He had no trade: he was a true philosopher, a lover of wisdom and seeker of truth.

The facts we have about Socrates are contradictory. He never wrote anything himself, only conversing with others and asking questions to lead someone in the right direction. Socrates was always surrounded by friends, young men and old who often referred to themselves as his disciples, though he himself never considered them as such, for he did not actually head a school of philosophy. Socrates was witty, inquisitive, and derisive. He cared nothing for the position, wealth, connections or social importance of those around him. He scorned money and ridiculed the Sophists, so-called “teachers of wisdom’, who taught eloquence to many of the youths from wealthy fami- lies and charged handsomely for it. This was something to which the Athenians were not accustomed, for they did not think of philosophy as a trade requiring monetary remuneration.

The information we have about Socrates comes * Clisthenes, who lived in the 6th century B.C., divided Attica

into ten administrative regions—philae, each of which was subdi- vided into ten smaller units, or demae.

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from various sources. These include the philosopher's younger contemporaries, like the famous writer of comedies Aristophanes, and Socrates’ faithful disciples, the historian and philosopher Xenophon and Plato himself. We learn about Socrates from the so-called Socratists, the men who listened to the philosopher and then later themselves founded philosophical schools—Euclides of Megara, Phaedon of Elis, Antisthenes of Athens, and Aristippus of Cyrene. Aristotle, Plato’s disciple, gives us some important comments concerning Socrates’ ideas.

In his comedy The Clouds, staged in 423, Aristopha- nes portrays Socrates as a humoros figure, the head of a questionable school of Sophists, a deceiver and dreamer who creates a new religion and new gods (the clouds). To a certain extent Aristophanes’ harsh parody reflected the vague rumors circulating among the uneducated Athenians who were hungry for gossip. But it also is a testimony to Socrates’ fame. Only the most popular individual with the greatest influence could become a character in a play by the famous Aristophanes. Socrates, who was always at home in the streets, markets and among friendly gatherings, who was poorly dressed and barefoot, short, bald, with prominent cheekbones, an up-turned nose, thick lips and a bumpy forehead, looked like a comic mask. His strange way of speaking both in a confidential, intimate and friendly manner and at the same time ironically would confuse his interlocutor and make him suddenly feel humble and stupid. Socrates would ask questions concerning beauty, justice, friendship, wisdom and bravery, forcing people to think not only about philosophical concepts but also about the important values in life. He explained man’s role in society, his obligations, interrelationship with laws, the necessity to respect the gods, obtain an education, acquire friends and deny base desires—in other words, he taught how an individual ruled by his conscience, a sense of justice and civic duty should live.

It would seem that the questions Socrates raised would have great educational value. But the ideal man that Socrates described, modest, disinterested in money and conscientious, only served to underscore the vices and base desires of the majority; the ideal

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remained unattainable. Socrates forced people to recognize their insignificance. He was the object of anger and even hatred by those who resented his denouncement of wealth, pride and ambition. There were few with the strength to overcome their weak- nesses and begin a new life, and those without this ability deeply resented the man who awakened their consciences, revealed their ignorance, disturbed their peace of mind, deprived them of confidence in their own strength, and sowed doubt concerning long-held traditions.

For the most part the few who followed Socrates were youths from rich and distinguished families who had an abundance of material wealth. They were rebelling against parental and government authority and dreamed of quick and radical changes in society. As paradoxical as it may seem, there were some among Socrates’ young disciples who were not at all interested in gradually educating the ‘‘common”’ man or tutoring the rich nobility. The path of persuasion was long and required great patience; it seemed easier and simpler to impose restrictions on the nobility and oppress the masses, in other words, to force the people to obey unquestionably the ideal legislation. For example, Critias and Alcibiades, two public figures who sought the wisdom of Socrates, took part in an anti-democratic coups in an effort to establish an oligarchy (the rule of a few) or, to use the word employed at that time, a tyranny. They thus betrayed Socrates’ ideas. Often philosophers and Socrates’ own disciples would contradict the ideas of their teacher.

Antisthenes, founder of the Cynic school, and Dioge- nes, his disciple, reached the conclusion that man could achieve spiritual freedom by giving up not only material wealth but also strong family ties, moral traditions, and social duties, for all these things subjugated man to hateful state legislation that divided people into free men and slaves.

Aristippus of Cyrene searched for a higher good in liberating man from the cares of life, in advocating total abandonment to pleasures. Euclides of Megara so completely removed man from the material world that he recognized true existence only in_ ideas. Phaedon, founder of the Eleatic Eritrean school of

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Socrates. A Roman replica of a Greek statue. 4th c. B.C.

philosophy, stretched the art of philosophical argument (o its limit. He preferred to deal with ethical problems but was also a religious free-thinker. Thus, each of Socrates’ disciples one-sidedly developed certain ideas of their teacher, some delving into purely theoretical, others into practical, aspects of life.

Judging from the disparate information that has come down to us from his disciples, Socrates appears to be a very contradictory figure. His world view allows him to criticize the rule of the majority (democ- racy) and at the same time express respect for the law and the unfailing fulfilment of one’s social duty. He was ironic and doubting, and at the same time deeply convinced of the good in man. His quest for the ideal existence in no way prevented him from enjoying friendships on earth and merry banquets. He advized listening to one’s inner voice or conscience, which would help avert undignified actions; yet at the same time he maintained faith in naive myths about an afterlife for man’s soul. Socrates acknowledged his insignificance, yet was firmly convinced of his own predestination: after all, the oracle of Delphi had called him the wisest of the Greeks.

Perhaps Aristophanes was right in parodying the contradictory figure of the wandering wiseman, stretch- ing to the absurd those aspects of his character and his quests that so shocked every upright Athenian citizen. For the Athenians were accustomed to an established system, sanctified by time, that guided behavior in relationships between people, between man and the gods, and between man and the laws of their fathers.

Our most important sources of information about Socrates are the reminiscences of Xenophon and the dialogues of Plato. Their works reveal to us the Socrates who became a living legend. And since Xenophon and Plato were true friends of their mentor and rivals between themselves, their works (which have come down to us in surprisingly complete form) give us a detailed account of the man.

For Xenophon, Socrates was a moralist, a persist- ent, stubborn, somewhat exasperating talker who as- tounded everyone with his impeccable logic. Plato's Socrates was jocose and gregarious, a man who was

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at one and the same time tragic and comic, a rare combination of ascetic wisdom and buffoonery.

Let us not be over-critical in pointing to the discrepancies and contradictions about the life of Socrates in the works of Xenophon and Plato. Even if they exaggerated some of his characteristics and diminished others, even if they consciously avoided or consciously invented some things, and even if they created a living legend (devoutly believing it to be the truth), these two men— Xenophon and Plato— knew Socrates, associated with him and at their own risk recorded his words. Unlike us, they were his contemporaries. We, on the other hand, his descend- ants, using modern methods of philosophical and philological research (often with the help of comput- ers) strive to make our own conjectures and to un- derstand the real Socrates some two thousand and four hundred years after his death.

Let us not be hyper-critical, for even a legend reflects the quests and aspirations of a man of a definite epoch, and even a myth contains at least a grain of truth. Socrates was a man who became a legendary figure in his own time. But if that legend helped to produce the philosopher Plato (and later Aristotle) and became the central core of all his (Plato’s) multi-volume works, we can only be grateful to such poetic inspiration and imagination that compels us, thousands of years later, to reflect and emotionally experience events that occurred in the distant past.

Let us leave the skeptics behind and turn to the legend as described by Xenophon and Plato.

Socrates lived at a time when Athenian democracy was flourishing (the latter half of the Sth century B.C.), after the defeat of the Persians (the first half of the same century). It was a time characterized by a heightened interest in the human personality. The ancient Greek tragedies beautifully reflect the flowering of science, art, philosophy, the spiritual freedom of the individual and his awareness of his potential and independence. The dramas of Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides paint a portrait of their contemporaries who rebelled against ancient tradition and religious practices. The time had long passed when man could

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not envision himself outside his tribe, when he thought of himself as one with Mother-Nature, a part of the eternal cycle of life and death. The philosophers of the 6th and Sth centuries B.C. who spoke about the essence of man’s existence and disclosed the secrets of nature and composed poems and treatises under the common heading of “Nature’’, gradually, and initially very tentatively, moved on to the study of ethics. Nature was outside morality, and the Ancients saw the correspondence of human endeavor to the laws of nature as the criterion for all things.

But the citizens of the Greek city-state of the 6th-5th centuries B.C. lived according to the laws of their state, developing an ideal based on kalokagathia. By the second half of the Sth century B.C. (a time when contradictions were heightened not only between the Greeks and the Persians but also between the Greek city-states seeking new territory, wealth and markets), it was the enterprising, industrious, and educated individual, the man with a good knowledge of law, who played a leading role in society. This is when the Sophists appeared, men who taught wisdom for money and who, like their founder Protagoras, believed man to be the measure of all things, the center of social life and the crown of nature. A clever turn of phrase, it seemed, could be more powerful than a weapon if someone knew the art of argument, eristic in Greek, and could ‘“‘make game of people, thanks to the difference in the sense of the words, by tripping them up and overturning them”. Sophists like Protagoras, Gorgias, Prodicus of Ceos and Hippias taught eristic; eloquence and rhetoric became import- ant sciences. For the right sum of money, anyone could learn the tricks of Sophist rhetoric—sophism.

The Sophists initially sought to teach the mechanics of logic and persuasion and thus supply the individual with an important tool to deal with vicissitudes in his private and social life. However, their teaching gradual- ly evolved into word-play and empty rhetoric. The important thing was that for the Sophists man was the criterion for surrounding life, therefore, in his own, often selfish greedy interests he could act without any restriction or moral compunction. Everything was permitted, and all moral norms were relative,

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depending on how they were perceived by the Sophist. Many men learned the art of eloquence from the Sophists, but eventually these philosophers became the object of dislike and even derision. One important reason for this was that many of the politicians in Athens, which was already losing its vitality and had begun to fight adventurist wars, had been taught by the Sophists and had cleverly deceived the trusting public. Socrates was to make his mark in Athenian society at a time when men were fascinated by the limitless capabilities and possibilities of the individual who knew how to express his thoughts and could win any argument.

As a young man Socrates worked with his father and was even considered to be a fine sculptor. When he was about twenty-five he sought wisdom from the Sophist Prodicus of Ceos, a man of his own age who, unlike other Sophists, considered moral principles to be very important. Prodicus studied the philosophy of language, examining the different semantic meanings of words. It is possible that the study of eloquence let the young Socrates to meet Aspasia, the wife of Pericles who was famous for her beauty and love of philosophy. Many years later Socrates would recall how he studied rhetoric under Aspasia and was very nearly slapped by her for his forgetfulness. He even remembered and retold a speech she had written for Pericles on the occasion of the burial of slain Athenian warriors. Along with rhetoric, Socrates studied music. His teachers were Damon, who had been the mentor of Pericles, and Conon. Music led to mathematics and astronomy, and Socrates’ teacher in these fields was Theodorus of Cyrene, a geometer, astronomer and musician. The method of conversation based on questions and answers (dialectics) he learned from a remarkable woman, Diotima, a priestess and prophetess who is said to have kept the plague away from Athens for ten years. This extremely erudite woman stunned Socrates with her great intellect and subtle logic. So, it should not surprise the reader that women should have played an important role in teaching Socrates the art of eloquence: Greece had long been famous for such poetesses as Sappho (7th-6th centu- ries B.C.) and Corinna (6th-5th centuries B.C.).

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Corinna taught the art of poetry to the famous poet Pindar; Theano, Timikha and Aristoclea were famous women philosophers; and Hypatia was a famous philo- sopher and mathematician at the time when ancient Greece began to decline.

Legend has it that as a young man of twenty Socrates met the philosopher Parmenides, famous as the founder of the Eleatic school and author of the poem Nature. Parmenides taught an integral, whole and immutable existence cognizable by man’s inquisi- live mind. For him there could never be “nothingness”, “non-existence” or “incomprehension”.

It is said that Socrates listened to the words of Archelaus, a student of the famous Anaxagoras (5th century B.C.). Like Aspasia, they both were from cities on the Ionian coast, the birthplace of philosophy, science and poetry. Archelaus opened a school in Athens. He believed the cosmos and human existence represented an aggregate of different elements of nature—earth, water, fire and air. By Socrates’ time, this theory was already becoming outdated.

Anaxagoras theorized the existence of a cosmic Reason that ruled the Universe. This Reason carried out all major functions which had heretofore been ascribed to nature. Thus, in the philosophical under- standing of the world, nothing was more lofty than human reason and the mind was omnipotent.

Anaxagoras was very popular in Athens during the time of Pericles, and although the two men were almost the same age, Anaxagoras taught Pericles philosophy. Anaxagoras was a close friend to Peric- les and Aspasia, and also the dramatist Euripides. He was considered to be a free-thinker. The books he wrote, in which he denied the divine nature of heavenly bodies, could be read for no more than a drachma, and Greek youths relished them. Since Socrates was inquisitive about man’s intellectual and spiritual abilities, it is highly probable he studied under Anaxagoras.

The trial of Anaxagoras, instigated by religious zealots and the enemies of Pericles, was unprecedented for Athens. Socrates remembered it to the end of his life. Anaxagoras was tried for being impious. The judges introduced a proposal that all those who did

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not honor the gods according to established practice or sought to explain heavenly phenomena in scientific terms should be considered state criminals. Pericles spoke out in defence of Anaxagoras, who, like all those accused of impiety, faced the death penalty, It was only due to his intervention that Anaxagoras was spared. Exiled from Athens, he settled in Lampsa- cus and died there in 428 B.C., when Socrates was forty years old.

His interest in matters of philosophy and the prob- lems of the meaning of life did not prevent Socrates from fulfilling his duty to Athens. During the Pelopon- nesian War he participated in the siege of Potidaea (432-429 B.C.), and fought courageously in the battles of Delium (424 B.C.) and Amphipolis (422 B.C.).

Plato wrote that Socrates would become so engrossed in his contemplation of ideas that once, in the Athenian camp at Potidaea, he stood motionless in the same spot for an entire day and night, much to the surprise of the other men. He is said to have saved the life of Alcibiades during the battle at Potidaea. When the Athenian warriors retreated he and Laches, a military leader known for his bravery, continued fighting. Thus, even then it was evident that Socrates was a man who could defend himself.

One day something happened that changed the philosopher's entire life. Chaerephon, one of Socrates’ oldest and most ardent friends, went to see the Oracle of Apollo in the sacred city of Delphi. He asked the god if there was anyone in the world wiser than Socrates. According to tradition the oracle answered either that Socrates was the wisest of ali men living, or, she said: “Sophocles is wise, Euripides is wiser, Socrates is the wisest of all.”

Socrates, who had always maintained: “I am conscio- us that I know practically nothing,” was deeply af- fected by this judgement. He became obssessed with the need to teach his fellow citizens true know- ledge, for he believed, ‘‘...wisdom is good and ignorance bad.”

Thus, at the age of forty, Socrates felt a calling to be a teacher of truth. But except on rare occa- sions (when, with Archelaus, he visited the island of Samos, or went by himself to the sacred city of

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Delphi and the Isthmus of Corinth), he remained in Athens.

Socrates’ fame exceeded that of the Sophists, who taught the art of argument for the sake of the argument itself. Often the Sophists disregarded the truth, even purposefully contradicting it and turning black into white. They could demonstrate their skill quite effec- tively, even without a profound knowledge of the subject. And they were not too modest to sing their own praise, like Hippias of Elis or Thrasymachus, or like Protagoras or Gorgias, who were surrounded by disciples and admirers.

Socrates had his own group of friends, disciples and admirers. But he did not accept money for teaching, and he himself provided an example of modest living. He would hide his knowledge of a subject during the course of a discussion and outwardly appeared to be on an equal footing with the novice, together with whom he would set out in search for the truth. Unlike the Sophists, Socrates was not lover of empty argument but a dialectician (from the Greek dialego- mai—I talk), a master of reaching the crux of a problem by means of questions and answers in a relaxed atmosphere. Socrates jokingly referred to the exchange of opinions, the discarding of false paths and gradually approach to true knowledge as the art of midwivery, for new ideas were being born.

Sincere truth-seekers came to Socrates, but so did the merely curious, both young and old, who were attracted by his fame. Socrates had friends among the philosophers-Pythagoreans—Simmias and Cebes, who were his own age. One of his most faithful friends was Criton, also a man of his own age who, though not a philosopher, was a kind and noble man. He had friends in all parts of Greece, in Thessaly, Thebes, Megara, and Elis. During the Peloponnesian War, Euclid of Megara risked his life to travel by night to Athens to hear Socrates speak. After Socrates arranged for the ransom of Phaedo of Elis, who had been taken prisoner and enslaved, he became his devot- ed disciple. Some men, such as Chaerephon, Apollo- dorus, Antisthenes, Aristodemus, and Hermogenes, were such fervid admirers of Socrates they were willing to give up all their worldly possessions for him.

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Chaerephon spread the news of Socrates’ wisdom, which had been acknowledged by Apollo himself, Refusing his father’s wealth, Hermogenes lived in poverty, seeking morality under the tutelage of Socra- tes. Apollodorus and Antisthenes stayed close to Soc- rates, each day recording everything he said and did. Aristodemus was one of Socrates most ardent admirers, He was often present during philosophical debates and would later repeat what was said to everyone interest- ed in the life of the Teacher.

Xenophon, a writer, philosopher and historian, met Socrates in an unusual way. Apparently, one day Socrates met Xenophon in a narrow passage and blocked his path with his stick while he inquired where food was sold. Upon receiving a reply, he asked another question: “And where do men become good and honorable?” When Xenophon appeared puzzled, Socrates said imperiously: “Then follow me and learn.” This is why when Xenophon had to travel to Asia Minor as a military leader on behalf of the heir to the Persian kingdom, Cyrus the Younger, he sought advice from Socrates, who sent him to the Oracle of Delphi.

Such arrogant aristocrats as Alcibiades, Critias and Callicles also sought the company of Socrates. Archela- us, the Macedonian ruler, invited Socrates to his court, but the philosopher refused. Socrates turned down invitations from Scopas of Cranon and Euryloc- hus of Larissa as well.

Socrates was very sociable. He would spend hours in the gymnasium,* the palestra,** at the agora,*** or seated at a banquet table. And wherever he was he talked, taught, offered advice and listened. Some- times a famous personage would arrive in Athens, and Socrates would hurry to meet and argue with him. For example, in 432, Protagoras, the most inveterate and intellectual of all the Sophists, came to Athens

* Gymnasium—facilities in ancient Greece where young men were given an all-round education, including classes in physical fitness, philosophy, politics and literature.

** Palestra—often affiliated with the gymnasium. It was here boys learned wrestling, gymnastics, swimming and other sports. ** Agora—the name used by the ancient Greeks for a public g and the place where it was held (a common city square).

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for a second time (later his books would be burned in the same city and he himself would be forced to flee to Sicily where he would perish during a storm). In one of his dialogues (Protagoras), Plato relates how the most notable Athenians and eminent Sophists met in the home of the wealthy Callias, where Protago- ras was staying. Amid other Sophists and inquisitive youths, Socrates engaged Protagoras in a sharp and ironic dialogue. Present were Alcibiades and Critias, the sons of Pericles, and Agathon. In another year the Peloponnesian War would begin, at the start of which Pericles and his two sons would die of the plague.

Legend has it that Socrates lived such an ascetic life that in the terrible plague epidemic of 429, when thousands died or left the city, he never caught the disease.

Among Socrates’ circle were men who were not his true friends. In 422, at the banquet of the wealthy Callias, about which Xenophon tells in his S ymposium, Socrates spoke about the superiority of spiritual love and demonstrated that friendship was the most impor- tant quality among human relationships. He had no reason to suspect that many years later Lycon, a famous orator who sat next to him, would demand his death in court. Nor did Socrates’ disciples Antisthenes and Hermogenes know that they would stand at their Teacher’s deathbed. For the moment they were engaged in a lively discussion, they watched with interest the performance of the actors who masterfully danced the marriage of the god Dionysus and Ariadne, they lis- tened to the flutist and harpist, and they observed the skilful movements of the dancer-acrobat.

In his Republic, Plato describes a discussion reputed- ly held a year later in the home of the respected Cephalus near Athens. Here Socrates talks about the most important social problems: what is the ideal State and how should its citizens be brought up.

We know from Plato’s dialogue Symposium that those very young men who met with Socrates in the hospitable home of Callias would gather again, reputed- ly in 416, at a banquet table* in the home of the

* The Greek word symposion means “drinking together”, “‘ban- quet”, “table talk”.— (Author).

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famous tragic poet Agathon, the man who as a youth had himself listened to the dispute between Protagoras and Socrates.

But then Athens began to experience times of trouble. Weakened by defeats in the Peloponnesian War (411), the democratic society had been under- mined by the activities of Alcibiades and the so-called Oligarchic Council of the Four Hundred. The consti- tution was re-examined, and established freedoms were curtailed. And although democracy was restored in 410, the people were extremely critical of the abuse of power by the leaders of certain parties and dema- gogues.

Unwittingly, Socrates came to play a leading role in the events of the last years of the fifth century. It was in 408 that Plato met Socrates. We do not know the details of that meeting, but, according to tradition, it must have been marked by an unusual occurrence. Supposedly Socrates had a vision of the meeting in a dream. The swan in his dream—Plato—at last found his teacher, to whom he would be faithful his entire life and whom he would glorify in a poetic chronicle of his life. From this day on Plato gave up all his former pursuits—music, poetry, physi- cal exercise, the theatre and his previous study of philosophy (under the tutelage of Cratylus, who inter- preted in the extreme the teachings of Heraclitus concerning the transience of all matter and concluded that knowledge was unverifiable and relative). Socrates gave Plato what he so desperately needed: firm faith in the existence of truth and higher values in life, which could be understood through joining the realm of good and beauty by means of attempting the difficult task to achieve inner self-perfection.

The peaceful pursuit of philosophy was never far emoved from politics. Socrates and Plato were soon discover this inescapable fact. The city leaders of hens were trying to restore the previous political er and institute strict observance of the laws. this end they turned to religious sentiment and nt customs, but in their quest for power, they selves violated democratic traditions. In 406, after attle at Arginusae, Socrates became involved in Tragic episode of the ten Athenian military generals.

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Athenian ships led by ten military strategists won a brilliant victory over the Peloponnesians. However, a storm arose, and the Athenians were unable to bury their dead. Fearing punishment, four of the strategists fled; only six returned to Athens. First the returning six were rewarded for their victory, then they were accused of violating ancestral religious rites. The city leaders wanted to punish the strategists quickly in order to intimidate the Athenian citizens. They demanded that the fate of all six be decided on one day, and that votes be cast for the entire group, not the individual men.

It so happened that in 406 Socrates had been elected a member of the Athenian Council of the Five Hundred (Boule), which was open to all citizens who had reached the age of thirty. Socrates entered the Council as a representative of his native deme of Alopece, belonging to the philae of Antiochida. The Council was divided into ten sections in accord- ance with the number of philae, and each section was comprised of fifty men. For approximately forty days out of the year, each of the ten sections rotated in fulfilling the functions of city government. The Coun- cil sessions were called prytany and the participants prytanies. It turned out that at the time the strategists were being tried Socrates was among the prytanies. Moreover, on the day of the trial he was the epistat, or the head of the entire Council for that day.

Outraged by this injustice, Socrates vehemently objected to the illegal haste with which the men were being tried without any form of due process. In his work Hellenica, or The History of Greece, Xenophon related the details of the tragic trial. A later historian, Diodorus, also examined the event.

In an effort to circumvent Socrates’ stubborn resist- ance, the Council members voted to postpone the trial until the next day when the body would be headed by another epistat. The strategists were found guilty and executed. Socrates himself hardly escaped retribution from the governing party that had violated democratic practice. A seeker of truth and absolute justice, Socrates unwittingly became drawn into a conflict both with the democrats and their adversa- ries. He refused to be a part of political intrigues,

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though he was inexperienced in the observance of formal procedures (he was mocked for failing to know how to collect votes in the Council; see Plato's Gorgias).

Socrates’ unusual deed did not go unnoticed. In one of his first works (Apology), Plato has Socrates describe what happened.

But this was just the beginning. Although Socrates insisted that he was deterred from making rash decisions by an inner voice he called daimon, that same voice never interfered with his speaking out for justice, even if in so doing he was threatened with serious consequences.

Athenian democracy was restored in 410, when Alcibiades, who had been supported by Critias, an advocate of oligarchy, was exiled for a second time. Critias himself, a wily politician, was forced into exile in 406. He lived for a while in Thessaly, where he was engaged in politics as well, and returned to Athens an avid supporter of the Spartan military-aristocratic order. In 404, Critias, a member of Socrates’ circle who later became a brilliant Sophist and witty poet, led a government coup. The Athenian oligarchy that had accomplished the coup was later called the Thirty Tyrants. These thirty men, the leaders of the conspira- cy, governed Athens for little more than one year, exiling and executing those who refused to submit to their authority.

Plato tells us that Socrates had occasion to exhibit his strong independence once again. As a member of the Athenian Council, he and four other citizens charged with the same duties were ordered by the Thirty to bring Leon, a very wealthy and famous man, back from the island of Salamis in order to execute him and confiscate his property. The other four council members voted to bring Leon back and exe- cute him; Socrates alone protested the sentence, and once again he barely escaped punishment. Who was it that threatened him? His former disciples: Critias and Charmides (Alcibiades had been killed in Asia Minor), who had long ago exchanged the difficult Socratic method of truth-seeking for political intrigues. Plato of course is a trustworthy witness, inasmuch as Critias, his uncle, tried to involve him in the

politics of the oligarchy. Plato, however, flatly re- fused. Charmides was the younger brother of Plato’s mother. Years before Socrates had persuaded the brilliant young man to become involved in social affairs (Xenophon’s Memorabilia or Account of the Life and Teachings of Socrates).

Fortunately, the Thirty Tyrants did not Stay in power long: their government was overthrown in 403. Critias was killed in a battle with Thrasybulus, a military strategist and the head of the Athenian democracy. Charmides was killed in the same battle. Plato’s family had lost some of its most influential members, but Socrates would be able to continue his friendship with Plato for a few more years.

Possibly Plato’s dialogue Gorgias, where Socrates meets the famous Sophist Gorgias of Leontini (by that time—405—already a very old man) reflects the events that pushed the arrogant aristocracy to the fore in Athenian political life. Another personage in the dia- logue, a young aristocrat by the name of Callicles, might have been entirely invented by Plato. Callicles is a “strong personality” in every sense of the word, and Socrates will not fare well when he falls into his hands. Callicles, it would seem, represents Socrates’ impending doom.

It is evident that the truth-seeking Socrates was already beginning to annoy the powerful men of Athens, and they were considering how they might best be rid of this exasperating philosopher.

Plato describes in Meng how after the fall of the oligarchy, in about the year 402, Socrates had occasion to meet another “strong personality’—Meno of the Aleuadae, who would subsequently become involved in a political struggle with the Persian prince Cyrus the Younger, and would die a terrible death in Persia. Meno considered neither piety, truth, nor honor to be virtues, but at this time he still maintained a respectful and humble attitude to Socrates. Also present at that meeting was Anytos, a wealthy tanner who was a leader among the democrats and a strong enemy of the Thirty Tyrants, whose rule he helped to overthrow. But this excellent opponent of “strong personalities” was himself little different from the tyrants.

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Anytos was suspicious of Socrates, for subtleties were difficult for him to comprehend, and he considered the philosopher to be as much a corrupter of youth as the Sophists. Meno believed every new trend was dangerous and contradicted the good old order. Along with Callicles, this dogmatic-minded hater of philoso- phy would see to it that the unhappy fate Callicles had predicted for Socrates would be carried out. Anytos would be one of the accusers, foreseen by Callicles, who would pass judgement on Socrates,

Socrates had enemies, and they were not dormant. Three years passed, then, in 399, an accusation was brought against Socrates by a poet by the name of Meletos, the wealthy tanner Anytos, and the orator Lycon. Officially the main accuser was Meletos, but, in fact, it was the influential Anytos who played the major role. Anytos judged Socrates from the viewpoint of a narrow-minded conservative. He thought the philosopher a Sophist and dangerous critic of the traditional ideals of state, religion and family life. The accusation stated that Meletos, son of Meletos, had written a sworn accusation against Socrates son of Sop- hroniscus from the deme Alopece. Socrates was ac- cused of not believing in the old gods of the city, of being a maker of new gods, and of being a corrupter of the young. Meletos called for the death penalty.

According to Plato in Theaetetus, Socrates: was having a calm discussion with the geometer Theodorus of Cyrene and the young Theaetetus, who would later become a noble and courageous scientist and philosopher. At one time the young Socrates had listened with rapture to the words of the elderly Parmenides. Now it was he who as a seventy-year-old man was giving council to Theaetetus. Toward the end of their discussion Socrates spoke of the art of mid- vifery, which both he and his mother had received ‘rom god; she for women and he for young and noble nen. Then, he suddenly appeared to have realized hat he had to go to the Porch of the King to an- wer to the suit which Meletos had brought against im.

But, to judge by Plato’s dialogue Sophist, not even is own trial prevented Socrates from meeting with is circle of friends and acquaintances the next day

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and using his ‘tart of midwifery” to explain who was a real Sophist. The general conclusion reached was that the Sophist’s argument was idle chatter and a waste of time and money. The art of sophistry was nothing more than argument for profit.

But this conclusion, reached in the course of a subtle dialectic discussion, meant nothing to the common, uneducated citizen. The average Athenian craftsman or tradesman could still remember for himself, or had heard from his elders about a man named Socrates who had been parodied in Aristophanes’ comedy twenty years earlier. This was a man who studied everything on the earth’s surface and all that was beneath it. He was a humorous charlatan, but he was also a dangerous corrupter of the young, giving them instructions on ways to deceive their creditors in court. Moreover, the old Socrates believed in some unknown gods—clouds perhaps, or thunder and storms. And he himself admitted to harboring inside his body something he called daimon, whose voice he unswervingly obeyed. If all that were not enough, the older generation remembered that at one time Alcibiades, Critias and Charmides had followed Socra- tes, proudly proclaiming to be his disciples. And everyone remembered the great harm Alcibiades and Critias inflicted upon Athens and how many innocent upstanding citizens were killed during the rule of the Thirty Tyrants. In light of all this, the threat Socrates faced was serious indeed.

The trial proceedings began in one of the ten divisions of juries, or heliaia, which was comprised of five thousand citizens and one thousand reserve jurors. The jurors were selected by lot each year from each of the ten philae of Attica. There were five hundred men in the division trying Socrates’ case. An odd number was needed, so one more juror was added before votes were to be cast.

Socrates was to appear in court and conduct his own defence. The famous court orator Lysias offered his assistance and even wrote a speech for Socrates. But the old philosopher did not use Lysias’ speech, though it was an accepted Athenian practice to ask an orator to prepare such speeches of defence, or, as they were known in Greece, apologies. Socrates,

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however, was accustomed to speaking before people of various age groups, social position, wealth and educa- tion, and decided to convince the court of his innocence himself. Any Athenian citizen twenty years of age or older could sit in the court. The jurors were potters, weapon-makers, tailors, cooks, ship-builders, copper- smiths, physicians, carpenters, tanners, small-scale tra- ders and merchants, teachers, musicians, scribes, and many other people in Athenian society with whom Socrates had often spoken in the city’s squares and markets.

Socrates was given the opportunity to speak after his accusers. However, a Strict time limit was set for his apology, and a clepsydra, or water clock, was placed in open view. Plato later sadly observed that there was much Socrates needed to say to answer the twenty-year-old accusations of Aristophanes and those that were being made by his present accusers. None of the accusations had any basis. As Socrates said, he had to deal with shadows and innuendos. But he well understood that those who were slandering him were either men whose insignificance and ignorance he had been habitually disclosing for years, or naive simpletons who were being influenced by rumors. During his speech, Socrates questioned Meletos in his usual ironic fashion; Meletos answered irrelevantly or did not answer at all.

Socrates, who had always tried to persuade people to seek virtue rather than fortune, conducted himself with dignity and asked for no condescension. He did not hope to arouse the pity of the jury with his poverty, old age or three children. He was certain of his righteousness, and stated that he would continue to teach the citizens of Athens in the future. He acknowledged that an oracle had proclaimed him to be the wisest of men, and that he listened to an inner voice, which restrained him from doing anything dishonourable. He stated that he had courageously resisted the tyranny of the Thirty, and that he had never given private lessons to any one person or taken money from anyone. As witnesses he called his friends: the elderly Criton and his son Critobulos, Aeschines of Sphetta and his father, Antiphon, Nicostratus, Apollodoros and his brother and Ariston’s sons Adei-

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mantus and Plato. Socrates did not ask the court to circumvent the truth or violate any oath; he merely sought justice.

After deliberating the case, the jurors brought back a guilty verdict. Some were irritated by Socrates’ pride, by the fact that he did not weep before them and beg; others were intimidated by a man allegedly proclaimed by Apollo to be the wisest of all and one who listened to some kind of demonic inner voice; still others did not like Socrates’ equanimity, his steadfastness and confidence in his own righteousness. According to Plato, 221 votes were cast for Socrates, and 280 against him. He needed to win only 30 more votes, Since a minimum of 251 out of the 501 jurors was necessary for exoneration. Athenian law stated that a plaintiff who won less than one-fifth of the jurors votes would be fined 1,000 drachmae and deprived of the right to enter a similar complaint in court in the future. It was only because Meletos was joined in his suit by Anytos and Lycon that he was able to acquire the needed number of votes.

In his written accusation Meletos demanded the death penalty for Socrates. But Athenian law stated that the defendant could suggest his own punishment. In his typically ironic manner, Socrates proposed that for an old man who had done so much to educate Athenian citizens, nothing would be so suitable as that he should be boarded free in the town hall, which he deserved more than anyone who had gained the prize at Olympia. The jurors were not amused by Socrates’ mockery and voiced’ their indignation, as they had done several times before during his speech. But Socrates continued. He said he was prepared to pay a fine of one mina, for his entire property was approximately 5 minae. Socrates’ friends Criton, Crito- bulos, Apollodoros and Plato were able to convince him to name a fine of 30 minae in order to placate the jurors. These were trustworthy men of some wealth, and they would see to it that the money was paid.

The court was not satisfied with the fine. The jurors were offended by Socrates’ mockery, and this time when the votes were counted, 80 more men voted to sentence Socrates to death. Apollodoros wept

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and said: “But, Socrates, what I find it hardest to bear is that I see you being put to death injustly.” To which Socrates replied: “*My beloved Apollodoros, was it your preference to see me put to death justly?” Before the final verdict was reached Plato tried to address the jurors. He mounted the platform and began: “Though I am the youngest, men of Athens, of all who ever rose to address you,’ whereu- pon the judges shouted out, “Get down! Get down!”, The court had no inclination to listen to the son of Ariston, a close relative of those who just recently headed the oligarchy.

Socrates was calm: he observed that nature had doomed him like everyone else to death from the day he was born. Moreover, death was a blessing, for it would give him the opportunity either to become nothing and feel nothing, or, if one were to believe in the afterlife, to meet the glorious wise men and heroes of old. Most important, he was prepared to seek out, even in hell, those who were really wise and who only claimed to be.

Socrates accepted the decision of the Athenians, and left to their care his three sons that they might be guided down the path of virtue, just as he himself had guided his fellow-citizens. Before leaving the coun he said: ‘‘And now it is time to go, I to die, and you to live, but which of us goes to a better thing is unknown to all but God.”

Socrates predicted that those who had sentenced him would themselves be sentenced, and the younger the man, the harsher the sentence. Also, the injustices exposed would exceed those which Socrates had ex- posed. Those who punished Socrates would have to answer for their violation of justice, and the punish- ment they received would be harsher than the death to which they sentenced Socrates.

According to legend, Socrates’ prediction came true for his accusers. It is said that once the Athenians reflected upon what had happened, they drove these men out of the city, depriving them of “fire and water’. The only thing they could do was hang themselves. Later generations wanted the murderers of Socrates to receive their just due, and so the legend was formed that Anytos, the chief instigator of the deed

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and persecutor of Socrates, died an agonizing death by stoning.

But, at the time of his trial, what did Socrates care about the future legends about him? By the court’s deci- sion he was put in jail. Plato describes what happened.

The sentence could not be carried out until the sacred delegation returned from its annual voyage to the island of Delos, the birthplace of the god Apollo. It was forbidden to put anyone to death while the delegation was on the island to honor the Athenian hero Theseus. Thus Socrates lived in prison for appro- ximately a month awaiting his inevitable death. During this time his friends visited him daily. Criton tried to persuade him to flee far from Athens, perhaps to Thessaly, where he would be welcomed. Simmias and Cebes, well-known Pythagorean philosophers, were willing to help their friend, by bribery if need be. Apparently, the jail-keepers were upset by the injustice of the court and therefore were less than diligent in guarding their prisoner.

Each day Socrates was visited by his loyal disciples. They would gather at the court, and, as soon as the jail opened, went in to see Socrates, spending the entire day with their Teacher. Soon it was rumored that the ship was returning from Delos the next day. Criton now urged Socrates to make his decision, for every- thing had been prepared for his escape. But Socrates did not wish to flee. How, he exclaimed, could he leave the city of his birth, the city where he had grown up and been educated? And what about the ancestral laws? Could there be any forgiveness for him if he agreed to this cowardly act? And what would the people whom he had taught and enlightened think of him? No, it was better to meet death with dignity and to accept the evil done to him by his native city. One should never break the laws and customs and do evil in return for evil. In his heart, Socrates seemed to know what was right, and though he pitied old Criton, he thought it best to wait for the ship with its sacred delegation to return to Athens (Critv),

The next day, when the ship returned, Socrates’ friends gathered earlier than usual, wanting to prolong their last meeting with the philosopher (Phaedo). Present were Phaedo and Apollodoros, Critobulos and

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his father, Hermogenes and Aeschines, Antisthenes and Menexenus, Epigenes and Ctesippus. Clombrotus and Aristippus were on the island of Aegina, and Plato was ill, evidently due to the strain of the events, But Simmias and Cebes came from Thebes, and Euclides and Terpsion arrived from Megara, and there was another Phaedo.

The Eleven archons, or jail wardens, ordered that the death sentence be carried out that very day. Socrates was released from his fetters, which he had worn all the while he was in jail, and, sitting on his bed, he was happily massaging his leg. His wife, Xan- tippe, holding their youngest son in her arms, began to weep, and Socrates asked Criton to take her home.

Socrates calmly conversed with his friends about the immortality of the soul, the afterlife, and about how beautiful the real earth and sky seemed to him. He was certain that after drinking the hemlock that would kill him, he would enter a world of bliss. After making his ablution in the next room, he bid his children and relatives farewell and instructed that they be taken home. It was almost dusk when the Eleven sent in a servant to indicate that it was time for Socrates to die. When the servant, as was the custom, asked for Socra- tes’ pardon, the philosopher, in his usual ironic and benevolent way, remarked that the gloomy herald was a polite man. A slave entered the room together with a man carrying a chalice with the poison. He instructed that after drinking the poison Socrates was to walk around the room until his legs felt stiff; then he was to lie on the bed and wait for the poison to work its way up to his heart.

Socrates took the chalice in his hands and drank its contents. His friends who were present sobbed, especially Apollodoros, who cried as if his heart would break. Yet Socrates put them all to shame with his composure, remarking that death should occur in decent silence.

At first he walked around the room, then he lay down on the bed, now not feeling the hand of the servant who cautiously touched his increasingly numb body. Suddenly, as the deathly cold crept closer to his heart, he uttered his last words: ““Criton, we owe a cock to Asclepius, pay it without fail.” “That indeed shall be

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done,” said Criton. ‘‘Have you anything more to say?” But there was no answer. Socrates was still. Criton closed his eyes and mouth.

Socrates believed that in dying he was renewed; his soul would return to eternity, freed of earthly pain and misery. This was why his last words concerned the sacrifice of a cock to Asclepius, the god of health.

Chapter Three

ONE IN SEARCH OF THE TRUTH

Plato had been left without his mentor, but. his eight years of friendship with Socrates greatly in- fluenced his life. All of Socrates’ disciples began their own independent lives after their teacher's death. Each took his own path, developing the socratic ideas he preferred. Some of the men founded their own schools in their native cities, others left for foreign lands. Some wandered from city to city teaching wisdom like their teacher Socrates; some withdrew into themselves in an effort to achieve the virtuous life their mentor had recommended. The eighteen- year-old Phaedo, whom Socrates had helped to ransom from slavery during the Peloponnesian War, returned home and opened a school in his native Elis, where he found a man by the name of Menedemus to continue his work.

Euclides and Terpsion settled in Megara. It was there that Plato and other disciples of Socrates, fearful of the actions of the Athenian authorities, found a refuge. Aristippus had no liking for Cyrene or Athens, and journeyed until he found a place in Sicily in the court of the tyrant Dionysius. Here Aristippus met Aeschines the Sphettian, whose writings were so much in the spirit of Socrates. There were those who said that Socrates himself had written these dialogues, and, after his death, his widow had given them to Aeschines.

Aeschines lived in poverty for many years before he settled in Sicily. Antisthenes gathered his advocates in the outskirts of Athens in the Gymnasium of Cynos- arges, which would later give rise to the Cynic school of philosophy that would spread throughout the ancient world. The famous cynic philosopher Diogenes

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A portrait of a philosopher. Greece, 3rd-2nd ¢. B.C.

of Sinope was a student of Antisthenes.

Xenophon was befriended by the Spartan king and General Agesilaus, and lived in Sparta as an honored guest. He was given an estate in Scillus as a gift, where, after the turbulent events of his youth, he wrote his famous Memorabilia and historical works. His return to Athens was barred for many years due to his friendship with the Spartans.

The elderly Criton remained in Athens and continued his study of philosophy. It is said he wrote a book of seventeen dialogues. Plato, however, could not stay in Athens after Socrates’ death, which caused his anguish. First he joined Euclides and other disciples of Socrates in Megara. There they relived their grief once again before saying good-bye to one another and heading off to different cities, perhaps never to see each other again.

It was customary for a true philosopher to seek wisdom from those who had preserved it from former times. Thus, Plato had to travel the world learning the sciences, philosophy, religion and mores of foreign- ers in strange lands. Our ancient sources differ here as to where Plato travelled. Some indicate he visited Babylon where he studied astronomy, and then went to Assyria, where he learned the wisdom of the Magi. Others state he went to Phoenicia and Judea and collected information about the laws and religions of the peoples. Most sources agree, however, that Plato could not have failed to visit Egypt, the land that had once so captivated Solon and Herodotus. This is probably true, especially since the two countries are closely situated, and the Greeks visited Egypt while colonizing Northern Africa. Plato, of course, had read the description of Egypt in Herodotus’ The History, and it is hardly likely he would not have wanted to follow in the path of his ancestor Solon, who acquired wisdom from Egyptian priests in Thebes, Heliopolis, and Sals. Solon spoke with Pseno- phis in Heliopolis, and met with Sonchis in Sals. Both Psenophis and Sonchis were considered to be the most learned of priests. They were very proud of the ancient background of their people and their traditions. For them the Greeks were children. “O Solon, Solon,” one of the old priests exclaimed, “you Greeks are

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always children; there is not such a thing as an old Greek.” Asked to explain what he meant, the priest said: “You are young in soul, every one of you. For therein you possess not a single belief that is ancient and derived from old tradition, nor yet one science that is hoary with age.”

It is said Plato was travelling with a young man named Eudoxus who was his disciple and would later become a famous geographer and astronomer. Ac- cording to some sources, Simmias, the Pythagorean from Thebes who had been a friend of Socrates, jour- neyed with Plato also. At any rate, Eudoxus, who was born in 408, would have been a youth of eighteen in 390-389, and could have easily accompanied the thirty-five or thirty-six-year-old Plato on his journey.

We have sources that indicate that Plato visited Cyrene, a city founded by the Greeks in Northern Africa back in the 7th century B.C. This was the birthplace of Aristippus and the famous mathematician Theodorus. It is said that Plato visited Theodorus there and studied math under him, as Socrates himself had once done. Theodorus was friendly with the Pythago- reans, and Plato, too, came to share friendship with these ascetic philosophers and mathematicians who considered numbers to be symbols of human and cosmic existence. He maintained his friendship with Archytas of Tarentum his entire life.

In Italy Plato lived in the South, an area which, like Sicily, contained a large population of Greeks and would later be called Magna Graecia. As long ago as the 6th-Sth centuries B.C., the Pythagoreans were developing their philosophy in the wealthy trade cities of Croton, Metapontum, and Tarentum. The legendary Pythagoras is said to have settled in Croton and taught there for many years. Pythagoras is credited as being the first to use the word “philosopher” in answer to the tyrant Polycrates’ question: who are you? “Iam not a wise man [sophos],” Pythagoras answered, “but a lover of wisdom [philosophos],” in other words, a philosopher. ;

The Pythagorean doctrine was widely known and attracted many because it taught that all souls were equal before eternity. It was forbidden to destroy any- thing living, and there were many restrictions to

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prevent the use of any violence and to preserve the purity and sincerity of man’s thoughts. The Pytha- goreans most of all respected numbers and mathema- tical relations, which were dispassionate and im- material. God and the entire surrounding world were reflected in the symbolic correlation of certain num- bers, which promoted a mathematical approach to the world and the development .of the exact sciences. Many people were attracted to the Pythagoreans because of their austere lifestyle, their contemplative philosophy, benevolence to man, and striving to do good deeds. They were, in a way, trying to create their own kalokagathia and reform society with the help of religious and ethical teachings. The Pythagorean doctrine combined philosophy and practical life, show- ing man the righteous path to immortality. It is evident that this doctrine was a response to the materialism, wealth, amorality and skepticism that often character- ized life in Greek city-states, which were growing rich with the spoilage of aggressive wars and gradually forgetting their noble ideals. The Greek cities in Magna Graecia were often ruled by tyrants, who did not look favorably on the Pythagoreans. During this period the Pythagoreans tried to conceal their activities. They created a secret alliance and continued to spread their influence in many cities through members of the organization who were in positions of some authority. The Pythagoreans even sometimes decided government policy. In Croton, however, the Pythagoreans were severely dealt with by supporters of the famous and wealthy Chilon, who, according to Pythagoras’ bio- grapher Iamblicus was a beastly tyrant. The homes and property of the Pythagoreans were destroyed and pillaged, and many of the philosophers were killed. In Metapontum as well, the Pythagoreans’ homes were burned. According to legend, only Philolaos and Lysis, who were young and agile, escaped with their lives. These reprisals, however, occurred in the mid-Sth century B.C., and the Pythagorean alliance ceased to function as a strong unity before Plato was even born. The Pythagoreans later settled in the Greek cities of Thebes and Phlius. Some eventually returned to Italy, to the city of Tarentum, which became their

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center. By the time of Plato, the Pythagoreans were not so much involved in politics as in the sciences— astronomy, mechanics, mathematics (especially geo- metry) and music-acoustics. Many were highly res- pected for their learning and strict morality. Govern- ment leaders heeded their advice and sought their company. The Pythagoreans were considered to be wise men and the keepers of deep secrets. The prestige of a political hgure was iiivariably enhanced if he himself studied the philosophy or was its patron.

It is clear why Plato could not possibly by-pass Tarentum, the city where the famous Archytas lived and taught philosophy. [t was Archytas who was the first to establish the difference between arithmetic. geometric and harmonic progressions, and to solve the problem of doubling the cube. He also studied me- chanics and music, and was the first to represent the motion of machines in geometric sketches and perform acoustical experiments. Archytas was also renowned for his amazing military expertise, and often fulfilled the duties of a strategist. The first battle the Taren- tum forces fought after Archytas was relieved of his duties, ended in their defeat.

A few hundred years later the famous Roman archi- tect and scientist Vitruvius would write of Philolaos and Archytas: “Nature endowed them with so sharp and quick a mind and so fine a memory that they fully understood geometry, astronomy, music and other sciences... Such men are rare.”

Plato acquired much from his friendship with the Pythagoreans. In their doctrine, the Pythagoreans reflected the strong inclination that men living in the ancient world felt toward mathematically exact and logical thought, and toward an understanding of the world in its spatial-geometrical and structural-numer- ical relations. Whereas Socrates taught Plato to respect the man who seeks knowledge and the moral ideal, the Pythagoreans taught him precision in thought, the strict and harmonious construction of theory, and consistent and comprehensive examination of a subject. : uo

After Socrates’ death, Plato visited different cities and countries for about ten years, ending his travels when he arrived in Sicily in 389-387 B.C.

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Chapter Four

THE SICILIAN TYRANT— DIONYSIUS THE ELDER

Sicily was a rich and fertile island sacred to Demet- er, goddess of the harvest. In ancient times the island was called Trinacria—the island of three capes— and was considered to have been the habitat of the lestrigons and cyclopes. Separated from Italy by only a narrow strait, Sicily became the bread-basket of its northern neighbor. As far back as the 8th century B.C. the Greeks took advantage of the island’s conve- nient location in the Mediterranean and began to found their own cities here. However, this led to conflicts with the Phoenicians from Carthage, who lived close by in Northern Africa. The Phoenicians controlled the major trade routes and were well- known explorers and merchants.

The cities of Syracuse, Gela, Acragas, Himera, and Selinus were founded by Greeks on the island of Sicily. For years a struggle between the aristocratic and democratic parties had been waged here, and so-called tyrants sought to extend their control over all of Sicily. Science and art flourished among the Sicilian Greeks. The comedy writers Epicharmus and Sophro- nus, the poet Stesichorus, the philosopher Empedocles, the rhetorician and Sophist Gorgias, and the historian Philistus were all born on the island. The Sicilians jealously guarded their island's independence even dur- ing the Peloponnesian War: in 415 it won a great victory over the powerful Athenian navy.

It should be noted, however, that the events of the early 4th century B.C. did not really compare with those that occurred earlier. The ruler of Syracuse was the tyrant Dionysius the Elder, a military strategist of common birth who managed to seize power in 406

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with the assistance of loyal troops whom he hand- somely rewarded. In the beginning Dionysius was successful in his campaigns against the Carthaginians, who had a strong foothold in the northwestern region of Sicily. Later, when he was forced to yield certain cities to the Carthaginians, he married the daughter of the famous general Hermocrates, the man respon- sible for the brilliant victory over the Athenian navy in 415.

The people of Syracuse rebelled against Dionysius, and his wife was put to a horrible death. Yet the tyrant managed to seize power again and crush the rebels. This time he took two wives: Doris, an Ltalian from Locri, and Aristomache, a Sicilian who was the daughter of Hipparinus (a distinguished citizen of Syracuse who, together with Dionysius, was once named general with unlimited authority). A rivalry between the wives and their backers ensued. The Syracusians, of course, wanted an heir from Aristo- mache. Doris’ mother was accused of sorcery and executed, but it was Doris who bore Dionysius his first son. These were times of intermittent wars with the Carthaginians, intrigues at court, and political upheavals. Dionysius had many people executed; he confiscated property and exhibited incredible cruelty. Dionysius was a ruler called a tyrant in the pejorative sense, while in the 7th-6th centuries B.C., Greek rulers were called tyrants even though they adopted democratic principles in opposing the old aristocrats. A few of these Greek tyrants, for example, Pittacus and Periander, were even considered to be two of the legendary seven wise men.

Dionysius was vain beyond measure. He thought himself to be a talented poet and tragedist; but people laughed at his poetry, and it was only with great dif- ficulty that he managed to win a prize in Athens for one of his tragedies. This made him so happy that he staged a magnificent celebration and, after indulging in an inordinate amount of feasting and drinking, he died. This was in 367. There is some indication that he might have been given poison instead of a sleeping potion.

Dion, the son of Hipparinus, brother of Dionysius’ wife Aristomache, and himself married to one of

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Dionysius’ daughters, played an important role in the tyrant’s court. An intelligent and educated young man, Dion yearned for political reform in the aristocratic spirit. He had an interest in philosophy, but this did not prevent him from being an experienced politician.

Dion had to endure the cruelty of Dionysius’ rule and then the ravings of the tyrants son, though he tried to make their government an enlightened tyranny. It was at the invitation of Dion and due to the influence of the Pythagoreans, particularly Archytas, that Plato decided to come to Sicily. This was when he was just completing his lengthy travels around Italy.

It had been almost ten years since Plato had left Athens to begin his wanderings in different parts of the world to collect wisdom and knowledge. Though Plutarch wrote that Plato had come to Sicily ‘‘by some divine good fortune ... not of man’s devising”, it is evident that the most important conductor of this di- vine will was Dion. At the time Plato arrived in Sicily Dion was only eighteen years old, but he already considered himself to be the philosopher’s disciple, and with the passion of a neophyte he determined to implement his idea of using philosophy to raise the morality of tyrannical government.

Plato had dreamed of being someone useful to the state and society since he was a young man. He had lived surrounded by people who were inveterate politi- cians, his close relatives taking part in the struggle for power in 411 and 404. He himself was asked to join in their intrigues.

In his youth Plato was convinced that these were the people who could bring back just government. But in observing their actions, which were invariably cruel, he realized that in a short period of time they had succeeded in making everyone think of the pre- vious form of government as a “golden age”.

Plato was dealt another blow when the democrats unjustly condemned Socrates. It was then that he decided he could have nothing to do with state affairs. The old customs, laws and mores had become grossly distorted and degraded. When Plato was an old man he acknowledged in a letter that though he had burned with the desire to serve society, everything had fallen apart and in the end his vision had clouded. But

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Plato was a thinking man, and he never ceased to ponder ways to improve morality and state govern- ment. In travelling through different countries and observing the peoples’ lives and laws, Plato came to the conclusion that all existing states were being governed badly. It was impossible to improve their laws, and the only thing that might help would be an extraordinary favourable turn of events.

Plato believed that philosophy was the only source that nourished state laws and the life of the individual. More and more he became convinced that evil in the world could be eradicated only if true and sober- minded philosophers had positions in government, or if the heads of government by some miracle became true philosophers.

As we see Plato and Dion totally agreed in their ideas. And they also felt that a man with an inclination for poetry was capable of becoming a true philosopher. But while it was understandable that the young Dion should have such great expectations, as an experienced man of thirty-eight, Plato should probably not have been so naive.

Soon after he arrived in Syracuse Plato realized that the glorious life the city was famous for was empty of meaning. He did not like the Italian and Syracusian custom of feasting, and was disgusted at the way people gorged themselves twice a day. Plato soon saw that people who had been brought up in such depravity would never become intellectuals, not even if they possessed the most wonderful natural gifts. It was terrible to see a state where people wallowed in luxury, gluttony, drunkenness and all forms of sexual pleasure without making any real effort to do anything constructive.

Plato sadly realized that such states would inevitably change their forms of government and fall under the rule of tyrants or oligarchies. And each time a new government came to power, the leaders would not heed any calls for justice or equality, however, they might spout democratic phrases.

Plato must have had strong faith that philosophy would prevail over tyranny when he decided to visit Dionysius. As for the tyrant, he was somewhat curious to discuss philosophy with Plato. A seasoned and

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hardened man of forty who had never trusted anyone in his life and suspected everyone of being his enemy, Dionysius listened with skepticism to Plato’s discourse about the virtues of ruler and man. Plato, who had never fought in a military battle nor been involved in affairs of the state, attempted to define courage to Dionysius. He told the ruler that tyrants were the least courageous of all men, for they held power over others only by intimidating them, and they themselves feared everyone. On the topic of justice, Plato said, only just persons deserve to be truly happy, and injustice was tantamount to unhappiness.

One of the meetings between Dionysius and Plato, embellished by the passage of time, remained a topic of interest until the end of antiquity. In this meeting, Dionysius posed the questions and Plato answered in the confident voice of the philosopher. Asked who was the happiest person, Plato replied without hesitation: “Socrates.” When Dionysius asked what should be the purpose of a ruler, Plato boldly answered: “To make good people of his subjects.” Then the tyrant, who prided himself on being an exceptionally fair judge, asked the philosopher his opinion of the significance of a just judgement. Plato, however, did not stoop to flatter the formidable ruler. Instead he wisely answered that even just judges were like tailors, whose job it was to mend torn garments. The implication was clear: holes could not be mended in a state ruled by a tyrant; the method of government itself must be altered. Dionysius pressed further and asked Plato if a tyrant must be courageous, thinking that now the philosopher would praise him as a ruler. But Plato frankly answer- ed that a tyrant was the most cowardly man on earth, for he quailed even before his barber, afraid that he might have his throat slit.

Dionysius no longer attempted to conceal his dis- pleasure. Listening to the admonitions of the highly regarded philosopher, he suspected his personal char- acter was being impugned. Dionysius was also exasper- ated by the enthusiasm with which his courtiers listened to Plato. The young men were fascinated by the philosopher, who openly expressed thoughts they were even afraid to think.

Finally Dionysius lost his patience entirely. He

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abruptly asked Plato why he had come to Sicily. When Plato replied that he was searching for a perfect man, Dionysius acidly replied: “Well, by the gods, it appears that you have not yet found such a one.”

This was the end of the moral influence of the philosopher on the tyrant.

Not long before he came to Syracuse Plato had risked his life to observe the flow of lava from the erupting volcano Etna. Now, however, he faced a more dangerous threat. Dion, who was well aware of the cruelty and treachery of Dionysius, decided ta send Plato home immediately. The philosopher left Syracuse aboard the ship of the Spartan ambassador Pollis, never suspecting that the ambassador had been given secret instructions to kill him on the open sea or, at the very least, to sell him into slavery. The tyrant no doubt took malicious pleasure in the thought of turning Plato, who was so removed from real life, into a slave. The philosopher, claimed Dionysius, would suffer no harm, for being a just man he would be happy even as a slave.

Pollis did not have the courage to kill Plato, but he dared not ignore the instructions of Dionysius. He brought the philosopher to Aeginians and offered him for sale. At that time the Aeginians were at war with Athens, so any Athenian citizen on the island was enslaved as a matter of course. And so, Plato was sold on the slave market on the same island where, according to one legend, he was born.

Anniceris the Cyrenaic was preparing to go to Elis to drive in a chariot race when he unexpectedly met Pollis and recognized Plato who was about to be sold as a slave. Anniceris immediately paid the sum of either 20 or 30 minae to buy him and then set him free. In so doing, Anniceris won much more fame than in a chariot race, for no one would have remembered a man named Anniceris if he had not ransomed Plato.

According to other sources, however, it was the Pythagorean Archytas, the old friend and benefactor of Plato and Dion, who ransomed the philosopher. Such a colorful incident gave rise to many rumors and interpretations and, no doubt, exaggerations. It was said that later the Spartan Pollis was defeated by the Athenian Chabrias and afterwards was drown-

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ed, “his treatment of the philosopher having provoked the wrath of heaven”, as Favorinus says in the first book of his Memorabilia.

There are also sources that state that when Plato's friends tried to compensate Anniceris for the money he spent, the Cyrenaic nobly refused. So the money was given to Plato, who, finding himself suddenly with a small fortune, decided to spend it like a true philosopher.

Chapter Five

THE ACADEMY

Upon returning to Athens after years of travelling, Plato bought an estate in the northwestern suburb of the city, about six sfadia* from the main Dipylon gates, and there founded a school of philosophy. The surrounding territory, where twelve olive trees (sacred to Athena) were all that remained of the Sanctuary to the goddess, was under the patronage of the hero Academus, who allegedly received the land as a gift from King Theseus.

The Athenians called the gardens, groves and old gymnasium in this picturesque area “Academia”. It was here, in 385, that Plato founded his famous school of philosophy, and it continued to function until the end of antiquity. In 529 A.D., the Byzantine emperor Justinian condemned the Academy as a breed- ing ground of pagan philosophy and shut it down.

In his Academy, Plato was able to lead the unhurried and modest lifestyle he desired. But fate was to decree that he would leave his home two more times in the future. After surviving a life-threatening situation, he would return to his disciples in the shady gardens under the protection of the hero Academus.

The grounds of the Academy, that were brought back from ruin by the illustrious Athenian General Cimon in the first half of the 5th century B.C., contained a statue of Artemis, a temple to Dionysius, and the graves of the champions of democracy, Pericles and Tharasybullus, and the famous General Chabrias.

Those who travelled from Athens to the Academy through the suburb were awed by the decorative stone

* Stadium—approximately 192 metres.

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stelae (erected to honor the brave defenders of Athens) that lined the road. Here philosophy mingled with recollections, and this gave the Plato school a special character. This quiet area beyond the city limits and along a small river was dotted with wide-leaf plane- trees, old olive trees, silver poplars and large elms. Among the trees stood statues to the muses and sacri- ficial altars to the gods of the arts. One of the olive trees was so old the Athenians thought it second only to the olive tree said to have been planted in the city by the goddess Athena. The gymnasium equipment on the grounds in no way interfered with the statues of Prometheus and Hephaestus, Heracles and Eros. Dur- ing the celebration to honor the goddess Athena and the god Prometheus, a torch race was traditionally run, starting from the sacrificial altar to Prometheus and Hephaestus and ending in the city itself.

Plato’s Academy consisted of a group of wise men who served Apollo and the muses. It was for this reason Plato named his own home the “house of the muses’, or ‘“‘mouseion”. Plato was the head (scholaris) of the school, and while he was-still living he designated his nephew Speusippus, the son of his sister Potone, to be his successor.

Each new scholaris of the school signified a different period of its development, and the school became known as the First (or Ancient) Academy, the Second (or Middle) Academy, and the Third (or New) Academy.

The school was housed in the old building of the former gymnasium. Above the entrance hung a sign saying, ‘Let no one enter without geometry”, attesting to the great respect Plato and his fellow Greeks had for mathematics in general and geometry in particular. Understandably, mathematics and astronomy were the most important subjects in the Ancient Academy, and here we see the undeniable influence of the Pythago- reans.

It was in accordance with the Pythagorean way that lectures at the Academy were divided into two types: general, for a wide circle of listeners; and special, for a narrow circle of those initiated into the secrets of philosophy. Lessons were conducted according to a strict schedule. In the morning, the residents of the

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Academy were awakened by the loud noise of a unique clock invented by Plato himself. There was also a sun- dial on the grounds. As was only logical, the study of mathematics led to applied mechanics, especially during the time when the noted astronomer Eudoxus lived at the Academy.

Plato’s famous water clock, or clepsydra, was a large vessel filled with water calculated to flow for approxim- ately six hours. The water flowed, a drop at a time, into a reservoir located under the clepsydra. Once this reservoir filled with water, the pressure forced it into a tube that connected the upper reservoir with the lower vessel, that was empty. The compressed air from here flowed through a single valve in the lower reservoir, which was connected by a long tube to a musical instrument. And this water organ, something like a flute, emitted a loud noise when the air blew into it.

Following the example of the Pythagoreans, who had always lived an ascetic life, Plato's disciples slept little and worked and studied quietly. They took their meals together, eating no meat, for it was thought to arouse passion, but enjoying vegetables, fruits (Plato was said to love dried figs) and milk. In all ways they tried to live a pure life. Sometimes Plato's friends were invited to dine at the Academy, but the meals remained as simple as always. Accustomed to magnificent feasts at ceremonious receptions, the well-known General Timotheus, son of the famous Conon, was surprised by Plato’s modest table and the highly intellectual con- versation concerning the arts. It is said that when the General met Plato the day after he had dined at the Academy he told him, “You and your friends eat very well; by not gorging yourself right away, you feel well the next day.”

At first Plato would converse with his disciples while strolling under the trees. Later he met with them in his home, where a sanctuary to the muses had been constructed and also a so-called exedra, or room for discussions. Plato’s home and garden, like the entire area upon which the philosophical school was located, came to be called the Academy by the Athenians. Hundreds of years later, in the Ist century B.C., the Roman dictator Sulla surrounded the city of Athens

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and cut down the trees in the Academy gardens to build weapons of siege. But the trees grew once again, and the beautiful garden continued to provide shade until the end of antiquity.

Plato’s nephew, Speusippus, put up statues of the Three Graces in the school itself, and several years after the Academy opened, the famous Mithradates of Persia erected a statue of Plato sculpted by Silanion. We have a good idea of what this statue looked like, for the bust of Plato that has been preserved to our day was modelled on the original by Silanion. It was here, at the Academy, that Plato’s disciples annually celebrated the date of his birth, the seventh of Tharge- lion (21 May) after his death. They remembered Plato like an ancient hero, the founder, or eponym, of the philosophy sanctuary. The philosopher was buried behind the walls of the Academy’s garden.

According to Academy rules, the head of the Aca- demy was to be elected, but elections were held only twice. Usually the head of the school named his own successor.

Servants were needed to keep up the house and garden, to arrange meals and sacrifices. Each day of the month a chief disciple, ‘sacrifice bearer’ and “muse servant” were named from among the disciples at the Academy. Students who would soon finish their courses assisted their teachers in reading lectures. In addition to philosophy, mathematics and astronomy, literature, natural sciences, like botany, and the legal codes of different countries were studied at the Acad- emy. Some of the students here, Aristotle (384-322), for example, took a special interest in the study of nature and its laws. Aristotle remained at Plato's Academy for twenty years. It was not until he was a mature scientist of forty that he was able to open his own school—the Lyceum.

With Plato’s permission, Aristotle conducted lectures at the Academy. One day, as the story goes, when Plato, already an old man, had left the Academy to make a short trip, Aristotle began to teach from the same spot where Plato usually conversed with his disciples. It was only with the aid of his strong nephew Speusippus that Plato was able to remove Aristotle from his spot. The story, while perhaps not altogether

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reliable, shows that traditions were strongly upheld at the Academy and no one was permitted to violate them. It goes without saying that the rights of the founder, head and owner of the school were strictly observed.

Plato’s Academy was the first in antiquity to teach the different sciences to a large number of students. Systematic and strict methods of teaching were intro- duced. Plato’s disciples at the Academy included gifted men who would one day become not only philosophers but statesmen. Perhaps the number of well-known and famous men said to have studied with Plato has been exaggerated, but it is indicative that historical tradition has so stalwartly associated precise- ly these men and no others with Plato.

After his uncle’s death, Speusippus headed the Academy from 347-339. A younger disciple, Xenocrat- es, took over the post (339-314) when Speusippus, who had been Plato’s source of support in his old age, fell seriously ill and committed suicide. ;

Xenocrates accompanied Plato on one of his trips to Sicily. He was a just and unusually honest man, but also extremely austere. According to legend, Plato jested with him that he should not forget to sacrifice to the Three Graces, the goddesses of mirth.

The great Aristotle studied directly under Plato. After Plato’s death, Aristotle would stroll the paths under the shady trees and converse with his own disciples. Thus, Aristotle’s school of philosophy is called peripatetic.*

Plato’s favorite disciple was Philippus of Opus, who rewrote his voluminous work Laws, which the great philosopher had written in draft form on wax tablets before he died. It was said that Philippus wrote a conclusion of sorts, Post-Laws, to Plato’s work.

Dion, who was banished from Sicily in 366, arrived in Greece to live among the philosophers and listen to his old friend speak at the Academy. Erastus and Coriscus, followers of Socrates and disciples of Plato, came from Asia Minor. Both these men were friends of Hermias, the lover of philosophy and the ruler of Atarneus (near Scepsis in Asia Minor), and were

* From the Greek word peripateo—| stroll.

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close to Aristotle, who was married to Hermias’ niece, When he was an old man, Plato addressed Hermias, Erastus and Coriscus in a letter and asked them to support each other, saying that not in horses, military might or gold itself was there a greater source of power than in the gaining of steadfast friends of a sound character.

Xenocrates and other Platonists were frequent visitors of the court of Hermias. But Hermias was killed in a battle with the Persians, and his closest friend, Aristotle, was forced to flee Athens after the death of his famous student, Alexander of Macedonia, because his enemies were preparing for him the same fate as befell Socrates.

Some say Theophrastus, the illustrious author of a work describing man’s character, was a student not only of Aristotle but of Plato as well. After the death of Aristotle, Theophrastus turned the library of his master over to his own student, the son of Coriscus, who had been a friend to both Plato and Aristotle.

The famous philosopher Heracleides, who was born in Heraclides on the Ponticus (the Black Sea), studied at the Academy under Plato, Speusippus, and Aristotle. Once, when Plato had gone to Sicily for the third time, Heracleides temporarily headed the school. After the death of Speusippus, Heracleides, who won a few less votes than Xenocrates and thus failed to achieve the post of scholaris, left Athens and returned to his native city where he opened his own school.

Among Plato's disciples were three of the ten famous Attic orators: Hypereides, Lycurgus, and Demosthenes. These men were not only brilliant philosophers but also exceptional orators and statesmen. They lived during the difficult time of the Macedonian conquest of Greece, and all participated in the campaign of the popular anti-Macedonian party. WHypereides was executed by the Macedonians; for his services to the Athenians, Lycurgus was buried by his fellow-citizens by the same road that led from Athens to the Academy; Demosthenes, the greatest orator of all times and one of the last defenders of a national Greece, was forced to take poison to avoid falling into the hands of his enemies.

Another of the ten famous Attic orators was Isocrates,

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an old friend of Plato and a disciple of Socrates. Isocrates witnessed the hopeless war between the Mace- donians and the Greeks. After the Battle of Chaeronea (338), when the Greeks lost their freedom, he com- mitted suicide.

The reader should not be surprised that some of Plato’s friends and disciples ended their lives in this sad way. The time in which they lived was a terrible period for Greece. The country was surrounded by enemies on all sides, and the men who were educated by Plato in the spirit of Socratic loyalty and duty to homeland and laws had no choice but to kill themselves when the struggle to which they had devoted all their efforts became hopeless.

In keeping with the legend of wise Pythagorean women, there is a story that Lastheneia of Mantinea and Axothea of Phlius visited the Academy. Mantinea was the native city of the priestess Diotima, who taught Socrates the dialectics of beauty and love (Symposium); Phlius was the city where the Pytha- goreans who were banished from Sicily found refuge. It is possible that Lastheneia and Axothea, who dressed in men’s clothing, are invented personages. If so, the invention is not without basis and symbolic meaning. At any rate, when naming Plato’s disciples, Diogenes Laertius, a historian of philosophy at the end of the period of antiquity, said that these things appeared to be true. No doubt he was attempting to quell rumors of fabrication.

As we have seen Plato and other disciples of Socrates parted ways after the Teacher’s death. Antisthenes, Phaedo, Euclides, Aeschines the Sphettian and Aristip- pus either founded their own schools of philosophy or became itinerant teachers travelling around Greece and beyond its borders. In some cases the relationships between the former colleagues became quite strained. For example, after Plato made an ironic comment about one of Antisthenes’ works, the two men behaved like strangers. Aristippus provoked Plato’s indignation when he became dependent on the tyrant of Syracuse and indulged the ruler’s whims. And Plato disapproved of Aeschines for finding favor in the court of Dionysius. It is said that Plato even persuaded Xenocrates, Aeschi- nes’ only disciple, to come to study at the Academy.

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A copy of a Roman fram onde dst oo Bae

Democritus. portrait

Various sources indicate that Plato never mended his relationships with the other disciples of Socrates. No one wanted to recognize the authority of another, save for that of their dead mentor, much less recognize the authority of one who was from among their circle. Each man felt himself to be a totally independent and mature philosopher. Therefore, after the death of Socrates, when Plato suggested that the disciples raise their cups of wine in a toast to founding a school, which he himself was prepared to head, the volatile Apollodorus sharply objected. In his anger he announced he would rather drink poison than the wine in that cup.

Plato and Xenophon had long been rivals. Even before the death of Socrates Xenophon had travelled to Asia Minor, where he became involved in a dan- gerous political intrigue in the court of the Persian King Artaxerxes and the King’s younger brother, Cyrus. But on his return to Greece, Xenophon became a well-known writer, the author of interesting books about Cyrus the Elder and contemporary historical accounts of the dramatic events occurring at the end of the period of Athenian democracy. The philosophical training of his youth served as the basis for his writing, Where the figure of Socrates, his wise mentor and an exemplary man, was dominant. Xenophon was extremely jealous of the memory of his Teacher and could not tolerate Plato’s having seemingly usurped the right to act as supreme judge of the biographical details of their mutual friend's life. Along with Memo- rabilia, Xenophon wrote other works to which he intentionally gave the same titles as Plato gave to his Symposium and The Defence of Socrates. Plato's Republic and Xenophon's Cyropaedia also reveal the antagonism between the two authors. In Laws, Plato States that Cyrus was not educated by Xenophon, though he does not mention the latter by name. The rivalry between the two men was evident. It is interest- ing to note that in their recollections of Socrates, neither man mentions the other.

It is also curious that Plato should not have mentioned in his works the illustrious philosopher-materialist Democritus, who lived at the same time as Socrates and died in 370, when Plato was at the height of his

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creativity. Democritus arrived in Athens from Ionian Greece. He listened to Philolaus the Pythagorean and to Socrates and he knew Anaxagoras very well.

Democritus wrote more than seventy works and was the greatest encyclopedic thinker among the Greeks: he was a philosopher, mathematician, physicist, music and poetry theoretician, physiologist and physician. He was also the first to teach the primacy of material existence composed of immutable and indivisible par- ticles or atoms that he called “ideas”.

In the history of European philosophy Democritus is the founder of materialism while Plato is regarded as the source of idealism. Perhaps the principal nature of their philosophical differences was that caused the advocates of the two opposing trends to become true antagonists. But the rivals respected the ideas and personalities of each other, and in developing their philosophies they never stooped to mutual recrimina- tions, ridicule or abusive criticism. Instead they main- tained a dignified silence, each striving to claim that he was the single herald of truth. It is true there were rumors spread by petty and envious people that Plato had bought up the works of Democritus and burned them, but such allegations are too ridiculous to be taken seriously. A great teaching can never be destroyed; this would be demonstrated when the trium- phant movement of materialism would begin in the distant future.

Chapter Six

THE “ENLIGHTENED” TYRANNY OF DIONYSIUS THE YOUNGER

For many peaceful years Plato taught in his Aca- demy. But fate was to test him again, and once again his friend Dion from Syracuse would play a part.

Plato was already sixty years old, and Dion, once an impetuous youth, had become a wise Statesman when in 367 the tyrant Dionysius died in Sicily. Power now passed into the hands of his son, also named Dionysius. Dion continued to provide Support to the son, just as he had the father, sparing neither money, ships nor personal effort in trying to keep Carthage at bay. But Dion had enemies at court, and they now saw the opportunity to convince Dionysius the Younger that Dion supported by an enormous fleet was strong enough to seize his power and transfer it to the children of Aristomache, i.e., his own nephews and the younger legitimate sons of Dionysius the Elder.

Dionysius the Elder had prevented his son from as- sociating with intellectual people, for he feared a sof- tening influence on the character of the future ruler. Now, free of guardianship and with power concentrat- ed in his hands, Dionysius the Younger revelled in the notorious pleasures of the Syracusan court and also listened to innuendo and slander against those who were allegedly seeking to curtail his power.

Plutarch was right in describing Dionysius the Younger as not the worst of tyrants. Dion was convinced the greatest evil came from the ignorance of the young ruler. It was his opinion that each free man should have a natural love for science and books, and should, through their help, improve his mind and spirit and find satisfaction in the perception of good- ness and beauty.

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Dion had great difficulty in trying to introduce his noble concepts into the Syracusan court. It should also be noted that Dion was much older than Diony- sius, was reticent by nature, often haughty, unsociable and even unfriendly. It would not be hard for his detractors to turn these shortcomings into real vices. Many people considered Dion to be arrogant, presump- tuous, and intolerant of ordinary people. Even his friends sometimes faulted him for his austerity, and Plato himself warned him against his arrogance, which could lead to solitude. Recalling that Dion was a friend to the Pythagoreans and was himself partial to their ascetic lifestyle, his reticence and demanding nature are understandable.

Dion’s desire to enlighten Dionysius proved to be stronger than the efforts of his enemies. He was so methodical in his persuasion, combining his own thoughts with those of Plato, that Dionysius finally felt a strong desire to see Plato and hear what he had to say. Dion had been waiting for this moment, and now began to send letter after letter to Plato at the Academy.

At Dion’s request the Italian Pythagoreans also sent letters to Plato that poignantly described their concern for the fate of the young Dionysius, who could not bear the heavy burden of power, and what a noble deed it would be to prevent the ruler from making grievous mistakes. These were commendable senti- ments, but behind them was Dion’s desire to curb Dionysius’ tyrannical rule and subordinate it to the will of the aristocratic party, which would be headed by Dion himself. If his plan failed, Dion was prepared to overthrow the rule of Dionysius by force and return Syracuse to a democracy. He did not approve of democracy, but preferred it to tyranny if it proved impossible to achieve viable aristocratic rule.

Plato knew nothing about the secret plans of Dion and his Pythagorean friends and was touched by the trust placed in his wisdom as a philosopher. He dreamed of saving Sicily from terrible misfortune and nobly agreed to Dion’s proposal that he enlighten the tyrant.

We know a good deal about Plato’s second trip to Sicily, for many years later, after the death of Dion, the philosopher himself described his experience in a letter.

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In Republic Plato had expressed his cherished ideas about the creation of an ideal society. Now, unexpectedly, he was given the chance to fulfil his wish. Dion and his friends convinced Plato that Dionysium sincerely wanted to learn and Study philosophy, and Plato believed that he could turn the ruler of Syracuse into a philosopher. But still he was troubled by doubt: Dion’s proposal! seemed too good to be true, and his Pythagorean friends were very young. Dion, however, was well known for his Strength of character, and this was what prompted Plato to overcome his doubts and try to persuade Dionysius to establish a new form of government. Moreover, Plato did not want to aban- don Dion and betray their friendship. The trip would be long and difficult, but he would go.

In Syracuse Dion and his entire group of supporters placed their hopes on the ability of Plato to develop goodness, a sense of justice, and comradeship among the young. With considerable difficulty Plato left his beloved Academy and the Philosophical discussions and searches he enjoyed so much. He was going to a foreign land with foreign ways, but he hoped to fulfil his duty to Zeus by accepting his obligation as a philosopher.

Once he arrived in Sicily, Plato was honored and shown every courtesy. Dionysius sent a splendid chariot for him and himself offered a sacrifice to the gods to thank them for his state’s great fortune.

Life at Dionysius’ court was modest, the feasting restrained, the palace moderately furnished. The members of the court exhibited keen interest in the sciences and philosophy. Sand was poured over some of the floors in the palace, and here the young men would enthusiastically sketch geometric figures. At a traditional celebration, Dionysius even expressed his dissatisfaction with the lengthy duration and rigidity of tyranny, describing it as a curse.

Dion’s enemies now began to stir in earnest. They were astonished that Plato had achieved such success in so short a period of time. With some maliciousness it was said that Syracusans had once defeated the entire Athenian navy, and now one Athenian philoso- pher was destroying Dionysius’ rule. ;

There were rumors that Plato had persuaded Diony-

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sius, now carried away by the ideas of enlightened government, to dismiss his personal guard of some ten thousand men. Indignant voices spread the news that the young ruler was prepared to exchange four hundred military triremes and ten thousand cavalry troops for the opportunity to search for loftier happiness at the Academy.

Then something happened that revealed Dionysius’ true tyrannical nature.

It turned out that Dion had written a letter to Carthaginian authorities telling them not to begin peace talks without his approval. Dionysius summoned Dion to his seaside fortress, ostensibly to discuss the matter. But instead of benevolently forgiving Dion for past transgressions as he had promised, Dionysius accused him of treason and ordered him to board a rickety boat and immediately sail across the strait to Italy.

This turn of events was completely unexpected and dealt a severe blow at Dion's friends. The city was thrown into commotion with rumors of the impending fall of the government. Dionysius, worried about his own fate, assured Dion’s friends that Dion had been sent, not banished, to Italy. Dion’s relatives were allowed to send him his possessions and slaves by boat. Thus, Dion received not only his property but also presents from his wife and his friends. He left Italy for Greece and settled in Athens, surprising everyone with his wealth and luxurious lifestyle.

Plato had been in Syracuse four months when Dion was banished, an act planned for years by Dion's enemies. As for the philosopher, he prepared to die. Rumors circulated that he would be executed as a member of the conspiracy. But once again, fearing for his own life if something should happen to the illustrious philosopher, Dionysius feigned magnanimity and tried to persuade Plato to remain at court. But the tyrant’s good wishes were not sincere and did not bode well. Dionysius played the part of the gracious ruler and host who did not want his guest to leave his home: Plato saw through Dionysius’ hypocrisy, but he too was forced to pretend. This was why he could not offer any protest when Dionysius, purporting to want with all his heart to keep the philosopher at his court, moved him into the fortress to prevent anyone

from helping him to escape. Any merchant or soldier who saw Plato walking without a guard would be eager to seize the fugitive and return him to Dionysius in expectation of reward. Moreover, people were led to believe that Dionysius respected and loved the philoso- pher. In reality though, Dionysius pretended to be fond of Plato only in order to keep him away from Dion. For the great philosopher could have a dangerous influence on a man as ingenious and experienced as Dion, and might be able to assist him in overthrowing Dionysius’ government even from far away Greece.

Plato had to patiently bear Dionysius’ effusive man- ifestations of friendship, his jealousy of Dion and demands for praise. The philosopher soon tired of these incessant squabbles and reconciliations. There were times when Dionysius begged for forgiveness, times when he expressed the desire to dedicate his life to philosophy, and times when he listened to slander and ardently hated the philosopher. Fortunately, the tyrant’s relationship with Plato abruptly ended.

Syracuse was drawn into a war, and Dionysius, who now had no time for philosophy, kindly agreed to allow Plato to leave. The ruler of Syracuse even asked for Plato’s forgiveness and promised to permit Dion to return to Sicily the next spring. Later he began to-send the income from Dion’s estates to Athens, but Dion’s road back to Syracuse remained blocked. Plato and Dion had tried to make a sensible and wise ruler Out of a tyrant, and they had failed.

Dion settled into the life of the Academy quite happily, his love of philosophy and his friendship with Plato bonding him to the school. He bought a home in Athens from a man by the name of Calippus, ironic- ally one of the men who would years later become one of his murderers. Dion’s beautiful estate outside the city was always open to his friends.

The Sicilian exile grew especially close to Plato's nephew, Speusippus. And it was to him that he left his estate when he returned to Sicily.

Dionysius had not yet forgiven Dion, but he contin- ued to send him the income from his estates. When Plato had to prepare a boy choir for a contest, Dion paid all the expenses and even played the role of the choir master, teaching and conducting the choir. Plato

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in no way interfered with Dion's generosity, which attracted the Athenians to their learned guest, and this was what Dion needed for his future plans. He attended every festival, always acting with modesty and restraint and showing courage and knowledge of the sciences. Athenian statesmen valued his company, and the people were happy to receive his presents. Even Sparta, an ally of Syracuse, made Dion a full-fledged citizen. He no longer had to consider himself a homeless vagabond at the mercy of a tyrant’s caprices.

But Dionysius was extremely jealous of Dion. When he heard his rival being praised, he ceased sending him the income from his estates. The tyrant reasoned that Dion’s popularity could not last long if he had no money to spend, and he prepared.to wait patiently until his former mentor begged for mercy. Still, it was important to Dionysius not to lose his reputation as a seeker of philosophical truth, as rumors about his strange, to say the least, behavior towards Plato had already reached several cities. Philosophers were a strong and influential group of people, and Dionysius recognized their power over state rulers.

In an effort to make amends for his past treachery, Dionysius filled his palace with people reputed to be scientists and philosophers, gave them presents and organized discussions with them. He put to good use the bits of information he had learned from Plato, for he himself had no disposition for philosophy or the system- atic study of it, Plato even heard rumors that Dionysius had written down passages from the conversations between the two of them and was now boasting that Plato’s ideas were his own.

Dionysius, however, could see that the numerous learned men seeking his favor at court did not equal Plato. And as soon as he remembered the strong- willed and independent philosopher, he urgently want- ed to see him again in his palace, to talk with him, even if he could not understand his profound ideas. The tyrant ruler was even willing to listen to Plato’s reproaches and admonitions.

Apparently, Plato’s return to Syracuse was necessary both for Dionysius and for Dion, who was faced with the threat of becoming an eternal exile without prop- erty or money and thus, without political influence

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at home. In 361, once Sicily was again at peace, Dion began to try to persuade Plato to return to Syracuse for a third time.

Dion himself would not be permitted to return home for another year. Dionysius was jealous of the close relationship between Plato and Dion at the Academy and stipulated that Dion’s pardon hinged on Plato's agreeing to return to Sicily. Dion Pleaded desperately with Plato to make the trip, assuring his friend that this time Dionysius would really study philosophy. Plato, already an old man, emphatically refused.

At this time, however, the famous Pythagorean Archytas, mentioned previously, arrived in Sicily. Plato had once introduced him to Dionysius and had helped the latter establish good mutual relations with Tarentum (Archytas was a plenipotentiary of the city). It irritated the vain Dionysius to know Plato was living in his peaceful Academy and discussing philosophy with Dion instead of bringing fame to his palace. Archytas, acting on Dionysius’ request, himself pleaded with Plato to come. A trireme would be sent to make the sea crossing easier, and Plato would be accompanied by Archede- mus, Archytas’ disciple.

Dionysius wrote Plato a lengthy letter in which he frankly stated that Dion’s affairs would be settled as Soon as the philosopher arrived in Syracuse. If he did not come, Dionysius could make no guarantees about his future relationship with Dion. Plato also received letters from Archytas and friends in Tarentum who shared the political interests of Dion. Everyone seemed to be pulling Plato to Sicily, and his friends in Athens were pushing him to go to save Dion and help their friends in Tarentum. And so the old philosopher, unable to refuse the requests of his closest friends and concerned by the secret threats being made by Diony- Sius, set out for Sicily a third time, despite his better instincts. od

Dionysius showed Plato great respect, but Philistus, a politician, historian and clever plotter who had taken Dion’s place as the tyrant’s adviser, was far = pleased with the philosoper’s arrival. An eee e sign of Dionysius’ trust in Plato was exhibited when the two men met in private and no one searched the philosopher for a weapon. Dionysius tried to give

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Plato money, but he refused it, much to the displeasure of those who were only too eager to receive gifts from the tyrant. The well-known philosopher Aristippus of Cyrene, who proclaimed pleasure to be man’s only requirement, remarked on one of these occasions: “Dionysius is safely munificent; he offers little to men like me, who want more, but much to Plato, who will take nothing.”

As a youth Aristippus had listened to Socrates, and Xenophon later described in writing one of the discus- sions between the two men. Socrates had refuted Aristippus’ arguments with wit and wisdom, but the latter maintained his belief in the pursuit of pleasure, or hedonism. It was Aristippus who predicted the quick souring of the relationship between Plato and Diony- sius. It all began when the astronomer Helicon of Cyzicus, Plato’s friend, correctly predicted a solar eclipse, winning the admiration of Dionysius and a re- ward of a talent of silver. Aristippus, jesting as always, announced that he too could predict something strange: “I predict that ere long Plato and Dionysius will become enemies.” Aristippus had spent many long years in different courts and could read people well. He was not mistaken. As soon as Plato mentioned Dion to Dionysius, he saw the hypocrisy of the tyrant. The resentment Dionysius had been so careful to conceal, but which Plato had long been aware of, was now out in the open.

To make matters worse, Dionysius no longer permit- ted Dion to receive the income from his estates, alleging that the property now belonged to Dion’s son. The tyrant also called upon Plato and his friends in Athens to take responsibility for ensuring that Dion remove all his wealth to Athens, taking only the interest from the main capital, which was to remain in Syracuse and be administered by Plato and his friends. Dionysius insisted that Plato remain another year in Syracuse to fulfill the above-mentioned conditions. This would be a test for Dion. Plato was vexed with doubts. He asked for a day to consider before answering the tyrant, who had control of Dion's considerable assets, worth about 100 talents. More than anything else, Plato valued keeping his promises and Dion’s friendship. Though he feared Dionysius’ perfidy, the next day he

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agreed to the tyrants conditions and asked permission lo write Dion a letter explaining the supulations.

Plato's sense of foreboding was justified. Dionysius suddenly announced that he would give one half of Dion's property to Dion's son and sell the other haif, giving the money to Plato. A few days later, Dionysius broke his promise and sold everything that belonged to his rival.

Dionysius no longer tried to conceal anything from Plato; as a matter of fact, he tried to intimidate the philosopher in every way he could. For his part Plato, like a caged bird, looked around for assistance and waited for the favorable moment. And an event soon occurred that helped unravel the complicated situation.

Dionysius had an army of several thousand barbarian mercenaries. Foolishly, he violated a tradition and tried to lower the pay of the senior mercenaries, whereupon the enraged soldiers laid siege to the acropolis. Fearing for his life, Dionysius promised to restore their privi- leges and placed all the blame on Heracleides, com- mander of the navy, who was both Dion’s ally and his rival. Heracleides immediately fled, and his friends pleaded with Dionysius to Straighten matters and not to chase the fugitive. Heracleides’ friends also asked Plato to intercede with the tyrant. While walking in the garden, Dionysius promised Plato he would help, but the following evening he recanted and ordered the guards to seize the fugitive. When Plato asked that mercy be shown toward Heracleides, Dionysius gave him a tyrannical glare and said, “With you I made no agreement, great or small.” The philosopher insist- ed that Dionysius had promised Heracleides’ friends not to cause the naval commander any harm, but the tyrant ignored him. Zealous mercenaries were instructed to Pursue the fugitive, but Heracleides managed to escape to Carthaginian territory. Plato’s intercession on behalf of Heracleides led to the total rupture of his relation- ship with Dionysius.

Before this incident, Plato lived in quiet and secluded gardens near the palace. Now he was immediately moved away from the acropolis, closer to the barracks of the mercenaries. These soldiers hated Plato, for he had tried to convince Dionysius to surrender his power, to disband his legion of bodyguards and to take up the

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study of philosophy. Rumors were still circulating about how on his previous visit Plato had persuaded Dionysius to dismiss thousands of soldiers and hundreds of ships.

Mercenaries fought for money, and under Dionysius, there was plenty of money for them to earn. They cared nothing for the noble ideas of philosophy. Plato’s fate, it seemed, would be decided in the soldiers’ barracks. Threatened with death at the hands of the mercenaries, the philosopher managed to smuggle out a letter to Archytas in Tarentum describing his dreadful situation.

Archytas felt responsible for what had happened, after all it was he who had so persistently argued that Plato make the trip. Under some form of pretext, Archytas sent a thirty-oar ship with a delegation headed by Lamiscus to Syracuse. Lamiscus asked Dionysius to release Plato, reminding him that Archytas and the citizens of Tarentum had accepted responsibi- lity for his safety.

Dionysius, mad with rage but still a clever hypocrite, more than anything else feared being ostracized by the world of learned people. He called Plato to his palace, and day after day held feasts in his honor.

Both Dionysius and Plato pretended to forget the dreadful time not long before when the philosopher was threatened with death. Dionysius finally spoke up and asked: “I suppose, Plato, thou wilt bring many dire accusations against me to the ears of your fellow philosophers.” To this Plato answered with a smile: “Heaven forbid that there be such a dearth of topics for discussion in the Academy that any one mention such as thee.” Thus ended Plato’s third visit to Syracuse. He returned to Athens a tired and sick man.

Dion was attending the Greek games at Olympia when news reached him that Plato had returned. He called upon Zeus as his witness and vowed to take revenge against Dionysius for violating the rules of hospitality and for his own banishment. Plato, however, had no desire to be a part of a vengeful fight between two enemies. From that time on he avoided the ambi- tious schemes being worked out by his friends and Dion, though he was still prepared to offer advice if their intentions were good.

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Everyone, it seemed, wanted to punish Dionysius. Even Speusippus forgot philosophy and threw himself into politics: while in Syracuse he had gathered infor- mation about the mood of the citizenry for Dion. Upon hearing Speusippus’ report, Dion actively began to rally politicians and philosophers to his cause. But these people were not Sicilian. Of the thousands of Dion's compatriots living in exile, only twenty-five were brave enough to join him.

Dion launched a military campaign against Diony- sius, and it was the will of fate that Dion should be victorious. Dionysius was banished and finally died somewhere in Greece, a forgotten man.

Although Dion had studied the art of curbing one’s anger, envy, and hostility while at the Academy and lived modestly in his palace, he was doomed all the same. The new ruler was concerned about the opinion of his friends at the Academy, how Plato would ap- praise his ability to deal with his good fortune, if, as a ruler, he could uphold the law of justice. Most of all he wanted to fulfill his and Plato’s dreams of a limited democracy similar to the governments of Sparta or Crete, i.e., a combination of popular and monarchic rule. These plans met with strong opposition and in the end led to a conspiracy and Dion’s murder.

This was the tragic end of the dreams of the philoso- pher and their implementation by the politician. They cost the life of one and led to the sore disillusionment of the other. Plato had learned a lot from his relation- ship with a tyrant: he learned that not only lawlessness and dishonesty but, more importantly, deep ignorance could bear the terribly bitter fruit of evil.

Plato fought ignorance, which he considered to be the most evil of vices, his entire life. He acknowledged, however, that in many instances he was capable only of words, that it was very difficult for him to tear himself away from his philosophy to take practical measures. But, to the philosopher’s credit, he was capable of overcoming this obstacle in the name of a lofty goal, even though his own opportunities were much more limited than those of professional poli- ticians. In difficult times he found support among his friends, in whose ventures he was always willing to take

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part if they were noble. According to Plato, the best indication of a man’s integrity or immorality was the presence or absence of loyal friends. The greatest gift of all was love of one’s State. Like his teacher Socrates, Plato believed that if a state were ruled badly, the rulers had to be advised and admonished, even if one must risk one’s life in so doing. The only thing to be avoided at all costs was violence against one’s home- land, i.e., a government coup, if such an action would lead to the killing and banishment of people. [t was better, Plato said, to simply pray for oneself and one’s State. .

Despite Plato's lack of involvement in state affairs, he, like all strong-willed individuals, was drawn to philosophy. It is indicative that he perceived Dionysius’ secret ambition to be considered a true philosopher and, though his position was weak, was even able to work his influence upon the ruler. Moreover, Plato thought, if philosophy really could be combined with strength it would be possible to show both the Greeks and the barbarians that reason and justice are essential in ruling State.

According to Plato, strength without reason results in despotism. Neither Sicily nor any other state should be enslaved to despots, but rather to laws. The power of the despot ruins both the enslaver and the enslaved, their children and their children’s children. Only petty people with slaves’ souls desire despotism, which iS wholly ruinous for themselves and others. Therefore, the fight against despotism was the primary task of the people, even if they had to risk their lives. For whatever suffering a man undergoes when striving after what is noblest both for himself and for his State is always right and noble.

_As always, Plato exaggerated the influence of the virtuous and rational people who would establish com- mon laws for all. His proposal was to choose fifty wise elders from among ten thousand citizens who would introduce laws for the entire State. Those who were in power were to obey the laws even more willingly and diligently than those subordinate to their power. When this happened, thought Plato, all would enjoy prosperity and happiness.

With Dion’s help, Plato had hoped to try to build

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such a harmonious society in Sicily. But fate, which often turns out to be stronger than people, dashed the hopes of the inveterate dreamer. Still, Plato did not admit defeat. Even after Dion’s death he exhorted his friends to try to implement his plan, trusting in divine auspices.

Disappointed by his failure to improve the tyrannical rule of Syracuse, an undertaking in which he spent many years of his life, Plato now searched for an answer in the monarchic form of government with its ancient, even patriarchal, traditions. He was not at all disturbed that such a form of government did not yet exist anywhere: his hopes were based on the ideas of the wise and noble Lycurgus, the legendary Spartan lawgiver. According to legend, it was he who restricted the power of the king by allocating some rights to a council of elders that was responsible for ensuring that citizens abided by the laws. Under these circum- stances, monarchic rule was not transformed into tyranny: the law became the governor of the peop- le; the people did not become tyrants over the law.

Plato believed that like subjugation, freedom that exceeds its limits was the greatest evil, but in modera- tion, it was the greatest good. For reasonable men, the law was god; for unreasonable men, pleasure. Plato’s ideal, which he describes in his last work, Laws, was a monarchy accountable to 35 guardians of the law, who were elected by the people, and a council of wise elders.

Plato’s thoughts concerning a state where all were equal before the law, and those who were in power were even more accountable to it, remained a pleasant dream. No statesman in Plato’s time shared his idea of ideal government.

We know that Aristotle was a much more practical man than his teacher. For this reason he was often invited to help develop laws for new cities and far- flung Greek colonies.

According to legend, when the Arcadians and Thebans founded Megalopolis, a city that grew to be large and rich and was famous for its theater seating 40,000 people, they asked Plato for advice. The philosopher proposed his favorite form of govern-

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ment, but the founders of the city refused to ac- cept the provision of equality before the law. Plato could not agree to a compromise and was plunged into sorrow by the refusal of the citizens of the new city to curtail the excesses of freedom by voluntarily obey- ing the law.

Chapter Seven

PLATO—THE CLASSICAL PHILOSOPHER

Plato was luckier than most ancient philosophers: much of what he wrote has survived, unlike the works of Thales, Heracleitos, Empedocles, Parmenides, De- mocritus and Anaxagoras. All that remains of the writ- ings of these philosophers are fragments. tiny pieces of something that was once whole. Scholars try to piece together these fragments in an effort to gain an under- standing of the whole. Judging from ancient sources, the philosophers at that time wrote prodigiously. The names of their lost works have come down to us, and as we read the list we cannot help but be saddened at the loss of this treasure of thought. Yet through the ages scholars have painstakingly reconstructed and systematized the information available to them in order to understand, translate and study the fragments of once-famous works.

We therefore value very highly the completeness of the works of Plato and those of his student, Aristotle. These were extremely well-educated men with a wide range of interests, and they took advantage of every opportunity not only to express their thoughts but also to cite the works of their predecessors, to agree or disagree with them. They quoted and carefully analyzed the words of a certain philosopher or poet; they called on the help of a teacher or a half-forgotten writer. The completeness of the works of Plato helps us to restore the complex picture of the history of Greek philosophy, culture and literature, the atmosphere of ideological polemics, and the birth of scientific terminology, new artistic forms and the precise language of classical prose.

Plato’s works are the more interesting in that they

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still combine aspects of genuine poetry and pure art with the profundity of philosophical thought, Plato was both a philosopher and an elegant master of style. He did not, like Aristotle, exclude the emotion of art from scientific-philosophical language. And this is why Plato is so interesting to us: he is a professional philos- opher who, understanding all the complexities of the scientific world, at the same time is able to tell an entertaining story or write inspired poetry.

We have 23 of Plato's dialogues, a speech entitled “Apology”, 11 dialogues attributed to Plato, and 13 epistles, many of which are known to be authentic. Even back in ancient times a number of dialogues were excluded from Plato’s writings because of the uncertainty of their authorship, but traditionally they are still included in his collected works.

It has proven difficult to establish a precise chrono- logy for Plato’s dialogues, and this is why they are divided into approximate periods of creativity. The earliest period begins with the death of Socrates and ends with Plato’s first trip to Sicily, i.e., from 399 to 389-387. During this time the philosopher wrote Apology, Crito, Protagoras, the first book of Republic, Laches, Lysis, and Charmides.

Each of the dialogues in this period discussed ques- tions of morality—what is virtue, goodness, courage, respect for the law, love of country—topics that Socrates liked to discuss. Plato chose to write in the form of a dialogue because it allowed him to put Socrates’ famous conversations into a literary form where he could pose questions, search for answers, attempt to define certain moral concepts and then to collect them in order to make a generalization. Plato greatly admired Socrates, and in all his works, up to the very last, the great Teacher and inveterate arguer comes to life.

It is difficult to draw a sharp and precise differen- tiation among the stages of Plato’s creativity, for certain works seem to be of a transitional nature. This is why several dialogues written by Plato in the decade of the 380s are indeed called transitional works. They include Jon, Greater Hippias, Hippias Minor, Gorgias, Meno, Cratylus, Eutydemus, and Menexenus. In these works Plato uses Socrates to

express his own thoughts developed at the Academy, which reflect other than purely moral and Socratic questions. Thus, Socrates becomes more Platonic and represents Plato's independent thought. The discussion sill centers around and is directed by Socrates, but now he argues with the Sophists, attacks them for their lack of positive truth and their unprincipled rhetoric, and counters their arguments with his gradually devel- oping thesis concerning eternal and immutable ideas amid the transience of existence. The Platonic Socrates defends the stability of the world and refutes Cratylus, Heracleitos’ successor, with his ideas of universal and endless transience. The influence of Plato's Pythago- rean friends and their doctrine concerning reincarna- tion and man’s fate in the afterworld is evident here. The emphasis on reason and morality in Plato's earlier dialogues gradually gives way to the discussion of abstract ideas.

The more Plato developed his own philosophical position, the more his dialogues refiected his own style and way of thinking. During his mature period of creativity—in the beginning of the second half of the 4th century B.C., when he made his second and third trips to Syracuse at the age of 60 and 70—Plato’s works-exhibited exceptionally precise and creative phi- losophical thought and clear artistic vision. The dia- logues Phaedo, Symposium, Phaedrus, Theaetetus, Timaeus, Crito, Parmenides, Sophist, Politicus, Philebus, and Republic (books II-X) represent the essence of his teaching about ideas as independently existing higher forms of being that determine material reality. The dialogues of this period are noted for interweaving difficult abstract thought and descriptive- ness. They represent artistic perfection and are under- standable to all.

Already an old man in the decade of the fifties of the 4th century B.C., Plato writes a monumental work Laws, in which he describes a form of govern- ment that differs from the ideal society he discussed in Republic. This government, according to the phi- losopher, is understandable and achievable by man. Although Laws is generally referred to as a dialogue, it actually represents Plato's reflections concerning the purely practical embodiment of higher state ideas in

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the earthly and day-to-day affairs of man. This is the first of Plato's works in which Socrates is not present.

Plato had written only the draft of Laws before he died, and Philippus of Opus, one of his closest disciples, put the work into its final form. Plato was dead, but his ideas would live on for thousands of vears.

Plato was among the first to work out the basic concepts of objective idealism and develop it as a whole. Thus, the name of Plato has come to symbolize ideal- ism, just as the name of Democritus has come to symbolize the triumphal march of materialism. Accord- ing to Lenin, the conflict between the trends of thought of Plato and Democritus was still topical after two thousand years of philosophical development. In order to gain a clear understanding of contemporary philo- sophy and the persistent conflict between the worlds of idealism and materialism, it is important to become acquainted with the ideas concerning these two systems that were current during the period of antiquity.

In the most simple terms, idealism is based on the belief that the idea is primary and matter is secondary; materialism, on the other hand, claims that ideas proceed from matter. In reading either Plato or Democritus, we learn about the ancient philosophies based on the particularities of classical Greek society. Thus, before attempting to explain the specifics of Platonic idealism, its advantages and disadvantages, we must at least briefly discuss how the world view of the ancient Greeks has throughout history been con- nected with material and social life.

In ancient times, man attempted to master reality within the framework of a communal-tribal social for- mation based on the collective labor of the commune (consisting of close relatives) and on the collective distribution and consumption of the products of labor. This was a time when man had no clear understand- ing of the individual as separate from nature; rather, man was seen as a part of a communal-tribal and family system, which helped him to understand what was inexplicable in the world around him. The world was perceived as a grand tribal commune consisting of parents, children, grandparents and distant ancestors. Therefore the lives of the gods, diverse as they might be, were conceptualized within the framework of the

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tribal commune and ordinary family relations. This represents the ancients’ understanding of the world: what we refer to as mythology. All the most important and essential ideas concerning beauty and goodness were embodied in gods, demonic creatures and heroes, who, the ancients were convinced, ruled the universe and tribal life. The primordial force that gave birth to the divine and mortal worlds was Mother-Earth. The gods were immortal, and their bodies were made of ethereal matter. Thus, since ancient times the Greeks were, unknowingly materialists, for they conceived of their gods as corporal.

When the transition was made to a slave-owning formation where society was divided into free men and slaves, the creator of all material wealth became the man born into slavery. The organizer of the slave’s labor was the slave-holder, a cruel and petty individual whose sole purpose was to exploit to the fullest the physical capabilities of the slave. The world governed by such soulless and artificially contrived impersonal relations was perceived by man to be a living organism controlled by a blind and frightening unknown force— inevitable fate. For the citizen living in the slave- holding city-state of the classical era with its budding science, the most beautiful things in life were the heavens, which existed in accordance with immutable laws, and the five material elements—earth, fire, water, air, ether—which were involved in the eternal cycle of matter, i.e., the aggregate of the rationally organized and purely physical cosmos. As we see, the Greeks of the classical era were unquestionably materialists.

But the ancients came to believe in forces in the midst of the material world that ruled matter though they themselves were immaterial. This important change in views was connected with the gradual devel- opment of the human personality in the slave-holding society and with man’s growing interests in the spiritual aspects of the human personality. For example, the early classical philosophers (6th-Sth centuries B.C.) believed the material universe was ruled by Logos (Heracleitos), Love and Hate (Empedocles), Reason or Nous (Anaxagoras) or Atoms (Democritus).

The philosophers of the middle classical era (Sth century B.C.) as represented by the Sophists and

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Socrates, proposed a human (anthropological) basis for the cosmos that reflected all the complexities of man’s inner self.

Plato, a philosopher of the so-called high-classical era (late 5th—mid-4th centuries B.C.), took another important step forward. His world was neither a corpo- ral universe devoid of individuality nor composed of separate material beings filling the universe. Plato combined the general and the specific, the cosmic and the human, the corporal and the spiritual. His beautiful, material cosmos collected into an indivisible whole a multitude of entities; it lives and breathes, filled with endless physical potential. But, on the other hand, it is ruled by outside forces that create general laws in accordance with which the entire cosmos devel- ops and functions. This is a special world beyond the cosmos which Plato refers to as the world of ideas—eternal and immutable in their lofty beauty. Though outside the cosmos, Plato’s ideas provide a generalization of cosmic life. But they are not mere abstractions; they are real and active. The word “idea” in Greek means “something visible”. But an idea can be seen only in the mind. (The Greeks always believed one could think with one’s eyes and highly valued “theory”, or contemplation.)

However, despite his material-sensory understanding of the world of ideas, Plato remains an idealist. His ideas that govern the universe are primary; they deter- mine the life of the earthly material world and are the eternal patterns or paradigms by which all things are constructed from formless, dark, transient and endless material. Material itself can give rise to nothing; it is merely the “provider” that absorbs the flows of light or emanations from the ideas. The force of the penetrating and illuminating light emitted by the ideas animates the dark material mass and gives it a certain visible form patterned after the eternal and immutably beautiful form from the world of ideas that is imperceptible to crude human sensibility. Ideas are beautiful in that they do not exist in time, which ages, disfigures and ultimately destroys material bodies.

The world of ideas is outside time; it abides or reposes in eternity. The highest idea is Good, which is identical to absolute beauty. According to Plato, this

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highest Good and at the same time embodiment of the highest beauty is the principle underlying everything, the originator, the demiurge*, in other words, the skilled master that created the visible celestial and earthly world according to the wisest eternal laws of beauty. But the visible, physical world once created by a great master in its own image, that is, according to his own idea, is subject to decay, deformation and aging. Thus, Plato calls on us to turn to and con- template a wonderful, good, and beautiful world of ideas; mentally to trace, step by step, a ladder of human perfection that will bring us to an understanding of the highest idea. In every material object we are asked to seek a reflection of ideal beauty, its very essence that conditions and justifies the existence of this object and explains its presence in the human world. According to Plato, material existence is the consider- ably distorted reflection of eternally beautiful ideas. But we humans should love and value this material existence, for deep inside it contains beauty. And it is man’s duty to evoke that beauty.

Plato believed that in order to understand the world one must first penetrate the idea behind each individual object; and he describes this process for us. First of all man must study the individual idea, carefully exam- ining it, turning it over and tapping it on all sides, like a clay vessel, to make a judgement by sound if there are any cracks in it, if it is authentic and durable. When man is able to perceive and understand, to see mentally the beauty of the individual object, he will be able to understand the beauty of many objects. Once he has penetrated the essence of the beautiful material object, he will also understand its beautiful idea, in other words, he will perceive its beautiful soul. Thus, mak- ing the transition from understanding the single beau- tiful object to understanding several, and then to un- derstanding an even larger number, man can gradual- ly lift himself to the most general idea of beauty and consequently, the most general idea of Good, which is reflected in love for the world of beautiful ideas and beautiful material objects. In this way, one can under- stand reality in its concrete and generalized forms.

* The maker of the world. or creator.

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As defined by Marxist philosophy, this Platonic un- derstanding of reality is objective idealism. Here we have the objective, real material existence independ- ent of man’s consciousness. But this existence is en- gendered by originally existing eternal ideas, and the world of material objects is totally dependent on the world of ideas.

Plato is, to be precise, a true objective idealist of the classical period, for more than anything else he values the beauty of the living material cosmos, which represents a replica of sorts of the eternal beauty of the absolute idea. Plato's idea represents the philosophy of the Ancients, for it is understood not as the result of subjective consciousness but as something eternally shining outside man and reflected in perceptible and visible reality. One must only be a philosopher, a seeker of the highest truth, a poet at heart in order to perceive the beauty in what is apparently a dull world, in order to believe and eternally strive to attain this unattain- able beauty.

It is in this search for beauty that we find the basis for Plato’s teaching concerning expressive and perfect forms of existence, i.e., what is now referred to as aesthetics. Plato’s concept of aesthetics is also deter- mined by his idealism, which serves to restrict and confine art and the significance of the artist or poet. If, as Plato believes, the beauty of the material world is the mere imitation of the beauty of eternal ideas, after which the material world yearns, then what is the duty of the artist? Imitation as well. But the artist can only imitate the beauty of the material world and try to make his imitation as life-like and precise as pos- sible. Can this really be considered an authentic skill? Plato believed that art was false, for it imitated that which itself was an imperfect copy and pallid reflection of the higher beauty of the motionless world of ideas. Thus, the artist and poet were relegated to being spu- rious imitators; they had no place in the ideal state where civil virtues were taught. And it was only when they lost their reason and plunged into madness (mania in Greek) that they were able to discover the unex- pected world of ideal beauty. Only when an artist or poet was able to forget cheap imitation and the rules of art could he become a creator inspired by the muses.

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But this happened very rarely and inevitably there would be a high price to pay.

Therefore, when Plato’s student Aristotle came to believe that the idea exists in each material object, that it is something within, something mingling with matter rather than existing above it in another world, he made a decisive step forward in the search for ma- terialism. Aristotle returned the idea to the material world, the world the Greeks so loved and respected. Though this world was deprived of the ancient mytho- logical gods, every particle of matter in it acquired its own particular essence of existence. Matter and idea, or form, as it was later called in Latin, became integral and inseparable. Aristotle gave each object, imbued, so to speak, with its own idea, the ability to develop internally and independently. Thus, the artist was able to see with his own eyes the beauty of matter and began to understand it comprehensively as true existence, not as a mere reflection of the ideal world. Aristotle took another step forward in understanding art when he interpreted it not as spurious imitation but as the creative reproduction of life.

In the end, the philosophical searchings of Plato and Socrates proved to be beneficial: Socrates turned to the study of human consciousness and thought, mov- ing from uncertain individual perceptions of life to general concepts that imbued existence with meaning; Plato developed these general concepts in a compre- hensive way, transforming them into ideas independent of man. But it was Aristotle who saw the unity between the general and each individual particle in the material world; without this unity, even the most general idea loses the meaning of its existence.

Thus, since ancient times philosophy had been searching for truth, sometimes using the materialist and sometimes idealist approach to comprehend being.

Chapter Eight

PLATONIC IDEALISM

We have discussed here the general aspects of Pla- to’s world view. But we still do not have an understand- ing of the historical significance of Platonism. Indeed, why was Plato so popular throughout the centuries of Antiquity and in all subsequent cultures? Why have philosophers continued to turn to Plato for over two thousand years? And why has his idealism so often played a positive role despite its many and significant negative features?

What is the idea in general, and why has this word been so important up to this day?

We may ask ourselves the question: do objects differ in some way from each other or not? If a particular object does not differ at all from any other object, this means it has no characteristics or qualities inher- ent only in it, and thus it is impossible to speak about our knowledge of the object. If we know what the given object is, it follows that the object means some- thing to us; and if it means something, it is something definite; and if it is something definite, it is the total of certain traits. A table, for example, is wooden. It is a construction that serves several functions; a place to take meals, to read and write, to place objects. The totality of all these characteristics is the idea of the table. Clearly, if we do not understand the construction and purpose of the table then we have no idea of the table, i.e., we cannot in any way differentiate a table from a chair, couch, or bed.

But we understand very well what a table is, how this wooden object is constructed and what its purposes are. Consequently, if we really understand a table, we possess the idea of the table. In other words, the idea

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of an object is something essentially, vitally and rea- sonably necessary in order for us to understand the object, to relate to it, to use it; in order for us to recon- struct it and determine its uses.

In this sense every object and in general everything that exists in the world has its own idea, its own mean- ing, SO to speak. Without ideas it would be impossible to distinguish one thing from another, and thus all real- ity would be transformed into formless and incompre- hensible chaos. The idea of an object indicates the aggregate of an object's essential characteristics, its composition and structure, its purpose, and its meaning in general. But it is not the mechanical combination of qualities and traits that characterizes the idea of an object, it is the indivisible integrity of the parts that comprise the object. Thus, the individual letters of the name “Socrates” will not be understood if they are not connected. If we utter the vowel ‘‘o” but forget that it is preceded by the consonant “‘s’”, in other words, if we do not consider the syllable “so” to be something in- divisible, we will not obtain the name “Socrates” or any other word. We will not be able to speak or under- stand each other. We have then an integral unit that contains within it something that is not contained in its individual components.

Understanding this, we can now go forward and ask the question: what is the relationship between the un- derstood idea of an object and the object itself?

A table can be of different colors, it can be big or small, it can be decorated or repaired, it can be broken into pieces, burned and turned to ash. But can this be done to the idea of the table? Can the idea of the table be pale or dark, red or brown, heavy or light? Can the idea of a table be smelled or touched? The table itself can be smelled and touched, but what about the idea? Can the idea of the table be broken into pieces and turned to ash? Of course water can freeze and boil, but can the idea of water freeze and boil?

From making simple observations of the most com- mon, everyday objects and processes, any one with common sense will agree that it is impossible to ascribe material qualities to the ideas of objects. The idea of an object speaks of only the object itself. But strangely enough, the idea of an object, while revealing the

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object's essential traits and qualities, is itself not mate- ee it is impossible to ascribe anything material O it.

We know this well enough from elementary arith- metic. Let's take the multiplication table. Everyone knows that two times two is four, not five; and two times three is six, not seven. It is also clear that without the multiplication table we would not be able to count, and not being able to count, we would not understand how the number one differed from two or three; and not understanding this elementary difference between numbers, we would not be able to comprehend or think at all. But the most surprising thing is the total impossibility of ascribing any kind of sensory quality to the multiplication table. That an apple has a certain color and taste is clear. And it is also clear that if we multiply two apples by three we will obtain six apples. But does the number two or three have a color or taste? I can touch and smell two apples, and, after mul- tiplying their number by three, I can touch and smell six apples. But does the number two itself have a par- ticular smell? And is the number three green or red, or does it have any color at all? We must always keep in mind that the numbers two and three apply as well to things that have no taste or smell. Violin strings, for example, can be smelled and felt, but when we lis- ten to a violinist play, our organs of smell and touch are irrelevant. A symphony does not smell and it cannot be touched. Nevertheless, it gives us a physical sen- sation, and the quantitative aspect of that sensation is significant. But qualitatively, quite different sensations other than color and smell are felt.

Whereas we stated earlier that the idea of an object, representing its meaning, is absolutely necessary for the object’s existence and for our understanding of it, we must now state with equal conviction that in reveal- ing the meaning of an object (i.e., in answering the question: what is this object?), the idea cannot be re- duced to the material aggregate of the object’s material qualities. It is something immaterial, insubstantial, even though it indicates only something material and sub- stantial.

Now, however, we have arrived at a point of con- fusion. It would actually appear that water can freeze

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but the idea of water cannot. But as soon as we make this thesis more general, confusion sets in: how is it that the idea of an object suddenly becomes immaterial? Evidently some kind of a substantial explanation is needed. The question arises concerning the correlation between the idea of the object and the object itself from the viewpoint of their origin, from the viewpoint of what exists, how and from what did it arise. This ques- tion can be answered in different ways, and in order to understand how Plato answers it, we must try to imagine what correlations between objects and their ideas are possible. The various forms of correlations can basically be reduced to two, which we will now discuss in detail.

First, assuming that both objects and their ideas exist, which of these is primary? Some thinkers answer unequivocally: objects, reality, matter—this is what comes first. Matter here is not understood to be just physical, it can also be categorized as psychological, social, historical and simply logical. But however it is understood, according to these thinkers, without it, without reality and without objects, there could be no ideas. If objects exist then so do their ideas; and if objects do not exist then neither do their ideas. In other words, objects and matter in general are primary, and the ideas of the objects are derivative.

It is evident, we are told, that ideas are a reflection of objects; they arise from objects and are the result of relationships between objects. But this does not mean that no ideas exist or that they are necessarily material in nature. The reflection of real objects is also real and exists in fact. These thinkers say that the reflection of objects is totally unique and is not at all material. Any kind of immaterial idea may be used; what is im- portant is that it is derived from the object and is its reflection. If we acknowledge that all ideas are based on objects, we can study and develop these ideas as much as we like without turning at every step to the objects themselves. It is only necessary to accept that the multiplication’ table arose from the observation of objects, and if we accept this, we can easily and safely construct our multiplication table without paying any attention to actually existing objects.

The French astronomer Jean Leverrier could at

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first not see the planet Neptune through his telescope. Bul, in seeking a way to explain the phenomena he ob- served in the solar system by means of the laws of me- chanics, he hypothesized the existence of another pla- net. He calculated the time and place the planet should appear, and it did in fact appear at that time and place and could be seen with the aid of a telescope. Accord- ing to the reasoning of our thinkers, Leverrier's idea was just a mathematical calculation, independent, dis- tinct and possessing its own numerical logic. But neither Leverrier nor any one of us could imagine any kind of idea, numerical or not, if objects themselves did not exist beforehand and if we did not glean these ideas from our actual perception of objects, from our ele- mentary sensory observation of them.

Thus one relationship between the ideas of objects and the objects themselves is this: objects and matter in general are primary, and the ideas of the objects, being reflections, results and reproductions of objects, are derivative. This teaching that objects are primary over ideas is called materialism.

Now let us examine another point of view. There are those who argue this way: very well, matter is pri- mary. But what exactly is matter? The materialists answer: matter is the generally objective existence of objects outside and independent of our consciousness, even though we are able to cognize innumerable ob- jective objects, to perceive them with our senses and in general bring them into our consciousness and thoughts. Then the question arises: is this matter some- thing or nothing? No materialist can answer that mat- ter is nothing. Thus, regardless of how matter is defin- ed, for the materialist and for any person with com- mon sense it must be something, 1.e., it must possess some particular characteristics, qualities, indicators and relationships. But if matter really is something, if it can really be cognized, then for this single reason it must contain its own idea, for, as we have already seen, the aggregate of known characteristics or indicators is itself the idea. Therefore, it is said, it is meaningless to Oppose matter and idea and to interpret the idea as the reflection of matter. After all, matter itself can- not exist without the idea of matter. Matter must be imbued with its own idea, otherwise it would be trans-

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formed into an abyss without sight or sound where nothing can be cognized, and about which nothing can be said or thought.

The philosophy which does not accept the primacy of matter over ideas but rather believes that ideas de- termine the existence of matter and precede it is ideal- ism. Thus, whereas materialism teaches the primacy of matter over ideas, i.e., that the idea is the mere reflec- tion of matter, idealism, on the contrary, argues the primacy of ideas over matter.

This is an eternal dilemma, one that is non-eradic- able; people divide into materialists and idealists. It should be noted, however, that materialism and ideal- ism represent two extremes in Philosophy. In pre-Marx- ist history these two positions have sometimes been mixed, vague and even greatly confused. Some think- ers were drawn to materialism but were unable to explain their position in detail. Others were pulled toward idealism and also proved unable to give a com- plete analysis. What position, we now ask, did Plato take in this historical conflict between materialism and idealism? The answer is not that simple; many have given an incomplete answer or even an erroneous one.

It is clear to all unbiased readers that Plato had an idealistic world view, i.e., he believed in the primacy of ideas over matter. Moreover, Plato is acknowledged to be the founder of European idealism. He was the first to supply an idealistic basis for the primacy of ideas over matter. In this sense, he was and remains the teacher of idealism. But this does not suffice: we must understand why Plato was so enraptured with his ideas and why his successors so steadfastly defend- ed idealism.

We may be surprised to discover with what enthu- siasm and sometimes even fanaticism new philosophic- al views were assorted in the past, and with what insistence and obstinacy a new decision, even to an old problem, was made. For example, today we take for granted that there is a difference between thought and sensation. But in ancient Greece, specifically in the Eleatic school of Parmenides, Xenophanes and others, the discovery of the difference between thought and sensation evoked boundless joy and was expressed in

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enigmatic poetic symbols and verse. And this was all because in place of mythology. where there was no difference between thought and sensation, the ancient Greeks came up with an entirely different understand- ing of the world where thought was considered sep- arately from sensory perception, where the human mind became all-important, and where man’s cognition of existence was respected. The destruction of the ancient and naive myths evoked incredible joy and subsequently led to the exaggeration of the role of the intellect, even its deification. Consequently, the idea too was deified.

Let us take another example. In ancient Greece arithmetic and numerical concepts and operations were also a great discovery. People were amazed that nu- merical operations were strict and determined, that they were fundamentally necessary not only in science but in everyday life, and that it was impossible to understand objects without them. One could not even distinguish one hand from the other without the con- cept of the numbers one and two. When the general significance of numbers was discovered, numbers were praised and idolized as well. The Pythagoreans, who believed that numbers were gods promulgated their views. Of course the number one was the most im- portant, and it was shown divine reverence. The num- ber two was second; it was needed to move beyond the limit of the number one. The numbers three, four, seven and ten were idolized as well; in general, all numbers were praised. Entire treatises were written in ancient Greece describing the divine and mythological qualities of numbers. Today every beginner at school knows that two plus one is three, three plus one is four, and that the sum of the first four numbers equals ten. But the ancient Greeks explained these elementary counting operations in mythological and religious as well as philosophical terms. Moreover, the philosophy of numbers was very profound and beyond the ability of the masses. Discovered by the Pythagoreans in the 6th century B.C., this philosophy remained relevant for a thousand years, until the end of the period of antiquity.

We might ask: could the discovery of the difference between the idea of the object and the object itself

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have remained unnoticed in ancient Greece? Could it have been overlooked as insignificant? No, this dis- covery was regarded as the unprecedented achievement of science, poetic joy and mystical emotion. Some phi- losophers, like Democritus for example, glorified the eternal quality, the inexhaustible and endless power of matter that engendered the world of objects.

Others, like Plato, praised the existence of ideas to the point of idolization. According to Plato, ideas were not only primary over matter, they also created a world of their own, subject to their particular omnipotent and omnipresent laws. Ideas were divine, perhaps even gods themselves; they radiated their power onto the entire world and everything in it.

Attitudes toward Plato's idealism have changed through the centuries. The philosopher has been praised for recognizing the existence of an ideal world, ideal beauty, truth and goodness, and for allocating an appropriate place in the cosmos to these lofty concepts rather than debasing them. Plato’s adherents assert that the world of ideas is the principle and basis for all man’s highest aspirations.

Plato’s detractors, on the other hand, criticized the deification of ideas and total reverence shown to the ideal world. Carried away by polemics, they viewed everything associated with Plato as outdated and un- scientific.

How should we determine what is most significant in Plato’s teachings and what is its greatest deficiency?

First of all, we must distinguish the emotional aspect of the question from the scientific-historic aspect. The reader is free to praise or criticize Plato as he sees fit, but he must acknowledge that Plato’s greatest con- tribution was the discovery of the existence of general ideas, of their necessity for understanding objects and their immaterial character.

If, as Plato believes, the general idea represents a law for all the individual objects subordinate to it, and without this link with objects the idea is dead and meaningless, then it is also true, according to Plato, that all individual objects can only be understood in connection with the general idea, which is represented by the given individual manifestation of the object. In truth, if the water we drink is really water, then

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the water with which we wash our clothes is also wa- ter. There is water Mowing in the rivers and streams, and drops of water falling on the earth. We have only to imagine that these things are not really water, in other words, to reject the general notion of water, and, immediately, not only the idea of water but water itself and also all its individual qualities, manifestations and composition disappear. The Platonic idea is the law for an object and thereby represents its generalization, which itself determines all individual traits, and, in turn, the individual is understood only through its generalization.

Plato, then, understands the idea of an object as its maximal generalization. But there is another possi- bility.

May we speak of the number one and not presup- pose the existence of the number two? Or may we speak of the number two without also presupposing that the number three will follow? Clearly, the number one demands the existence of two, and two demands three. But how long do we continue to count, what is the limit? If we take a million, a billion, or a trillion, we can always add just one more. Consequently, if there is no limit to counting, then the limit is infinity. Whether we like it or not, infinity does exist, and Plato’s idea is precisely what we mean by infinity, i.e., an infinite limit, infinite generalization for all the separate objects that fall under that particular idea.

Rather than speak of the infinitely large number, let us discuss the distance between two consecutive finite numbers on the numerical axis. Take, for example, the distance between the numbers one and two and begin to divide this distance into small parts. We find that no matter how we divide and how small the frac- tions we obtain, we will never achieve the number one. In the same way we may divide the number one how- ever we like, but we will never obtain zero. In other words, between every pair of consecutive and finite natural numbers lies an infinity of fractions which is impossible to exhaust. One may skip from one number to another without paying any attention to the journey. For instance, we may of course divide two by two and obtain one, but this represents a jump from two to one, not the real journey that leads from two to one

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or one to two. In other words, infinity is contained in each individual object, just as the number one contains an infinity of fractions separating it from zero and the number two. Consequently, each idea of an object we set forth represents not only its maximal generalization but also its limit. And this limit is infinite for all the finite conditions and manifestations of each individual object, which includes in itself this idea.

Let us now look at geometrical figures. The circles and spheres we meet in reality are never totally accur- ate. The circumference of a wooden or metallic circle may be uneven, have notches and depressions in it or be slightly warped. And if we paid serious attention to these real and perceptible irregularities in the cir- cumference of infinitely varied circumferences, we would never be able to construct a theory of a geo- metric figure. Only by disregarding these irregulari- ties and understanding that these materially irregular circumferences are based on one and only one ideal representation of a circle, i.e., the Platonic idea of the circle, that we are able to start developing geometry as an exact Science. Further: we are able to understand the actual irregular constructions of circles and spheres only if we have the ideal circle in our thoughts and if it actually exists. We may reproach Plato for insist- ing that the ideal and precise geometric spheres were found only in the heavens, while on earth we could find only their irregular copies. It is not a question of heaven and earth. What is important is that everything finite compels us to accept the existence of the infinite, everything real compels us to accept the existence of the ideal, and all individual objects are governed, as if by law, by the general, and every general law is meaningful only if individual objects exist, which it generalizes and imbues with meaning.

Finally, we should note that in his social philosophy as well Plato's understanding of the idea expresses his remarkable faith in human reason and belief in the omnipotence of the ideal world. He is naively con- vinced that if ideas are correctly understood social life itself will become ideal. Therefore, at the head of his ideal state he places philosophers who are capable of contemplating eternal ideas and, once understanding them, can rule the entire state. From today’s stand-

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point, Plato's views appear conservative and even reac- tionary. But the philosopher was only naive in his be- lief in the omnipotence of the maximal generalization, i.e., the maximal generalization of the idea-law. Plato promulgated this static, ideal social order because he had exaggerated confidence in the rational rule of ideas. It was the exaggeration and absolutization of the world of ideas that led to the extremist position that depreciated the achievements of the ancient philosopher.

Plato does in fact abandon himself to unconfined idealism. For example, he begins to construct extreme- ly abstract and complex theories of ideas. In the second half of his dialogue Parmenides, he delves into subtleties of the teaching about ideas. Then, he rejects these abstract thoughts, and in the dialogue Timaeus reveals his theory about the material and aesthetic cosmos. In Timaeus there is no hint of the philosophy expounded in Parmenides. The gradual understand- ing of love and beauty in Symposium is treated entirely differently in Sophist. Here Plato defines the Sophist by using remarkable ingenuity in the construction of abstract arguments.

Enraptured by the world of ideas, Plato came to believe that the world of ideas was totally isolated from the world of objects. His student Aristotle just- ifiably criticized him for expounding this theory. Aris- totle reasoned this way: can an idea or the essence of an object exist separately from the object itself, and would it not be more realistic to place the idea-essence of objects within the objects themselves? Reading Pla- to’s works where the concept of the idea is totally iso- lated we cannot but conclude the total impotence of ideas that exist outside their objects and themselves represent some kind of extra-sensory objects. They have no influence on real life and do not in any way help man understand existence.

_ Lenin wrote: “Aristotle’s criticism of Plato’s ‘ideas’ is a criticism of idealism as idealism in gen- eral.” While giving Aristotle credit for his sincere searches, Lenin nonetheless realized that the philo- sopher was considerably removed from the dialectics of a ence individual concept, and from the

ption of the reality of an individual

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object, thing or phenomenon. Thus, Aristotle was un- able to see all the deficiencies in Plato's theory of ideas nor to take into consideration much that was of value init.

It is important to note that although Plato has throughout the ages been considered the absolute auth- ority by many philosophers, this authority has some- limes been used to defend and develop idealist theo- ries that have long been outdated. Plato himself exag- geraled the role of ideas, but some of his successors glorified their role to the extreme, claiming that the objective and material world faded and entirely dis- appeared before the grandeur of the idea. According to these thinkers, the material world was merely the product of ideas and was found only in the conscious- ness of each individual. Thus objective idealism opened the door to subjective idealism: the surrounding world depends entirely on the inner self, or on one’s “idea”. Here it is appropriate to recall Lenin's words. “From the standpoint of dialectical materialism, ... philosophical idealism is a one-sided, exaggerated ... development (inflation, distention) of one of the features, aspects, facets of knowledge into an absolute divorced from matter, from _ nature, apotheosised.”’

In the Middle Ages Plato's teachings were used as the basis for Christian, Jewish and Muslim religians, although all these religions repudiated the paganism of the ancient world. Plato's philosophy was interpret- ed as propounding the existence of a single creator of the world, not the existence of the many gods of the pagans.

Kant, Hegel, Schelling and all the representatives of the new idealism in some way or another based their philosophies on Plato and his teaching of the idea as being the meaning and principle of all existence. They disagreed, however, as to the possibility of cog- nizing ideas and their role in the history of society and man. Plato's idealism has long been a part of past history, but it continues to influence us today.

When the role of ideas is exaggerated and absolut- ized, it leads to idealistic teachings, to utopian and often dangerous theories, it distorts and obfuscates the real vision of man’s history and individual life. But Plato

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is considered to be a great philosopher because of the positive aspects of his teachings on ideas. These in- clude:

1. In order to differentiate objects and prevent them from being poorly cognized or not cognized at all in the general state of chaos, we must answer this question concerning every object: what is this object and how does it differ from all others? The idea of the object answers the question ‘what is the object’, and therefore the idea of the object is first of all the mean- ing of the object.

2. The idea of the object is the unity of all the in- dividual components and manifestations of the object, which now cannot be divided into individual com- ponents and represents a new quality in relationship with the components. One side of a triangle is not the whole triangle. Still, a certain combination of three components will yield something new, a new quality —a triangle. Thus, the idea of the object is the unity of all its components, which are now indivisible.

3. The idea of the object is the sum of its composite characteristics without which the separate parts could not exist or be obtained. That the idea of the object is a general Jaw that gives meaning to the emergence and manifestations of its individual characteristics ts evident regardless of the object concerned. And the more complex the object, the more complex are the manifestations of the idea. A simple mechanism like a clock reveals that the sprockets and screws inside are distributed in accordance with the general idea, without which the sprockets and screws would have nothing in common and no clock mechanism would exist. Chemical compounds are also formed in accordance with certain laws of nature. Chloric acid, for example, is formed in accordance with a general law whereby an atom of hydrogen and an atom of chloride are combined to form something whole. In the same way if we say, “Ivan is a person’, we are viewing this Ivan as a person in general, and this person in general is seen as a law that gives meaning to the existence of each individual person. The idea is the law.

4. The idea of an object is immaterial. This is clear because water itself can freeze and boil, but the idea of water can do neither. Water itself may exist in a solid

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or liquid phase, and it also might be a vapor. But the idea of water is neither solid, liquid or gaseous. It has no phase at all.

Who would deny that the idea is the principle of explaining objects, that it represents their common unity and the law of their individual manifestations? It is of course possible not to define the general laws of objects as ideas or the aggregate of ideas, but science cannot reject the general law of objects itself. The laws of nature and society need not be referred to as the ideas of nature and society, but it is impossible to refute their existence. No one doubts these obvious theses of the ancient philosopher, and any modern philosophy, the sciences and even practical life must necessarily take them into account.

The progressive world view today is materialist. But with respect to its scientific basis. its constant striving to form certain perfectly formed structures out of the chaos of life. our Progressive science un- derstands that though the integral idea is composed of its parts it is not limited by them, that the integral idea is a new quality in comparison with its compo- nents; thus the whole is simultaneously composed of its parts and not composed of its parts. Chemists tell us that water is composed of two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen. But hydrogen itself is not water, nor is oxygen. How did water suddenly appear? This clearly shows that though water is composed of only hydrogen and oxygen, these elements, taken together to form something whole, cannot be reduced to mere hydrogen, oxygen or their combination. And this means that water, something completely material, possesses an idea that is immaterial. Although water is composed of hydrogen and oxygen, it possesses a much more general content.

We use water in cooking and in our bath; we pour it on plants, and send it through pipes. Water is found in creeks and rivers, ponds and lakes, seas and oceans. Countless living organisms owe their existence to water. In other words, when we use the word “water” we never think of hydrogen or oxygen. The word “wa- ter’’—which really means the idea of water—is a vast generalisation that encompasses such countless spheres of reality and possesses such endlessly diverse functions

that no chemist would be capable of describing them in textbook chapters on hydrogen or oxygen. There is no alternative: one has to be a Platonist just to use the word “water, even though the modern chemist has nothing in common with ancient Platonism.

Our understanding of nature and society is based on the discoveries of precise laws which are supposed to explain existence. But Plato lived almost two and a half thousand years ago, a time when the search for the laws of nature and society had just begun and the under- standing of them was poor. This was why gods or de- mons were used to explain natural phenomena. Pla- to’s ideas represent his naive attempt to interpret the laws of nature and society and replace the old myth- ology, of which he was so critical. According to Plato, these laws explain the reasons behind all events. The philosopher's naiveté in interpreting them is completely understandable, but his desire to find laws and prin- ciples for all occurrences reflects a turning point in human thought. And here Plato occupies an advanced, even revolutionary position.

What about our daily life? Is it not connected with the understanding of ideas? If someone were fo try to tell me that I should rely only on empirical facts, that my behavior follows strictly concrete, perceptible ac- tions and goals, then I might ask: “Are you preaching the complete absence of ideas? Do you want me to live without theory or general ideas?” Right away my prac- tical friend will be transformed from a positivist into a principled Platonist. “What do you mean,” he will ask, “are you saying I have no ideas, that I live the life of an unprincipled egoist and crass materialist? How would I be able to work if I had no plans, no principled approach to my work, if I had no goal to strive for, if there were no meaning to it? Of course our practical life is ideological, and without principles it is impossible to do anything rational or purposeful, or to fulfill our ideals.”

Let the reader decide if all traces of ‘‘Platonism” have disappeared from our modern consciousness.

But when Plato inordinately exaggerates and even deifies the significance of ideas, when he asserts that the idea of the object has an independent existence (al- beit an idealistic one), that it itself is an ideal object

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of sorts or substance existing in its perfect form in a transcendental world, then he is open to criticism for being an objective idealist. Plato is an incredibly con- tradictory figure. His logically astute teaching on ideas is permeated with an ancient Greek thinker's naive faith in the omnipotence of human reason, which strives to reproduce on earth the eternal beauty of om- nipotent ideas. It is only by understanding the contradictions in the ancient philosopher that we will be able to analyze his teachings on ideas, the es- sence of his philosophy and its historical significance.

Chapter Nine

PLATO'S DIALOGUES— THE DRAMA OF IDEAS

Let us now discuss Plato’s dialogues and their artistic value. As a young man Plato showed remarkable talent as a poet, dramatist and sculptor, and the elegant epigrams written in his youth still impress with their perfect poetic style. Yet he gave up his interest in the arts to pursue philosophy after meeting Socrates, and this fact reveals that Plato was as rhapsodic as he was creative. Though he turned away from professional work in the arts, he never ceased to be a poet and artist.

This contradiction and harsh experience gave birth to such literary form as Plato's dramatic dialogues which was consequently elaborated and developed in the history of philosophy and literature not only in the period of antiquity but in modern times as well. It is interesting to note that Plato completely altered the manner in which philosophical thought was presented. Ancient Greek philosophers before Plato (or before Socrates) would express their views in enigmatic- aphoristic homily in verse or prose. And in the 6th- 5th centuries B.C. the subjects of philosophical medi- tations were confined to nature and its five elements: earth, water, fire, air, and ether. Faceless, mysterious, and infinite matter breathed, flowed, and burned; man was but an infinitesimal part of grand Mother-Nature. Man with his intellect and emotion, a mere speck of dust in the eternal cycle, had no place here, for man had no independent existence; his niche was in nature. It took the genius of Heracleilos to gain an understand- ing of the frightening cataclysms of life and death in the Universe, to perceive its constant flux of birth and death. Here, fiery Logos—the word—had begun to es- tablish its supranatural laws. And here the implacable

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goddess Erynias had already begun to establish a firm order, refusing to permit the Sun to alter its path. Fiery Logos, suprahuman though it was, contained an intimation of inexhaustible human power, for Logos is the word, and words are an attribute of man.

And it took the genius of Parmenides to perceive in the mysterious chariot races of Night and Day urged on by the Justice of Natural Laws the birth and death not only of natural forces but of human opinions, both false and true. Parmenides also contrasted the elusive transience of human sensations to the firm belief in rational thought. Thus, the principle of human ration- ality emerged through the depths of featureless na- ture, eternally static despite its internal upheavals.

The tumultuous Sth century B.C. pushed forward the free man as an embodiment of initiative and in- dependence as far as it was possible within the con- fines of a slave-holding society. Thus began the jour- ney toward anthropocentrism* that would continue to progress with each passing decade. This marked the beginning of the Greeks’ remarkable respect for the power of speech and strong passion for eloquency.

Since ancient times the Greeks were noted for being enthusiastic conversationalists, and to this day the Ho- meric poems impress with the abundance of skilfully composed speeches. In a manner of speaking, the Greeks absolutized speech, making it the master of everything. One of the goddesses they worshipped was Peitho, the goddess of persuasion. Gorgias could make a brilliant speech where he turned all of Helen of Troy’s shortcomings into the greatest of virtues; the Greeks relished the verbal contests of actors and ex- perienced terror and compassion while watching the tragedies of Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides; Soc- rates could draw a crowd that would listen with rapt attention to philosophical disputes. Plato, then, was left to present in as realistic a way as possible the prog- ression of human thought from misconception to truth in the form of dramatic dialogues.

Ancient Greek literature began with the grand epic, moved on to sad lyrics, then the horror and emotion

et eae * Anthropocentrism places man in the center of society and nature.

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of the tragedies and finally to the prose that combined lyrical-epic and dramatic principles. Ancient philo- sophy, like ancient literature, was based on the posing of ever new questions, on the intense search for their answers, on passionate disputes and the most compli- cated thought processes, and on inventive and color- ful speech.

The character of Plato's dialogues changed consid- erably over the long period of his creative life. In itself the dialogue is dramatic, but the elements of drama can differ. For example, there may be the drama of the plot, the drama of the situation, or the inner drama of conflicting ideas and opposing convictions passion- ately defended by the disputants.

In Plato's works we find all the nuances of outward and inner dramatic action. His most dramatic dia- logues concern the tragic events in the life of Socrates. The dialogue form is not even mandatory. For exam- ple, Socrates’ speech in his own defence, his Apology, before the Athens court is a monologue. However, the drama of the situation is extremely tense.

Here we have a solitary hero who fights a lie which seems to be groundless. It’s as if Socrates is fighting shadows, ephemeral but omnipotent shadows united in their envious hatred of anyone who is above them in spirituality, integrity and kindness. That Socrates is doomed is apparent when he begins to reflect aloud on these times in his life when he was faced with the choice whether to submit to the will of others or to go his own way, preserving his integrity and fighting for justice. The entire monologue, impeccable in its logic, foretells Socrates’ impending doom. But what kind of logic can influence a noisy mob that hates a man for being different? Socrates is sentenced to death by the democratic authority he so admires.

In Apology Plato gives us a hero strong in thought but defenseless and impotent before the authorities. From beginning to end Socrates’ monologue is a study in tragic irony. Man believes he can foresee coming events and fathom them, that he can ward them off, but fate only laughs at his helplessness, at his mortal limitations. Socrates’ profession to be conscious of his own ignorance is tragically underscored in this mo- nologue.

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In the dialogues Crifo and Phaedo, Plato opposes the tenseness of the dramatic situation against Socrates’ inner serenity. Crifo was written at about the same time as Apology, while Phaedo is a work completed in Plato’s more mature years. But both dialogues share the same structure, for they both deal with the last days in the life of Socrates.

Crito has only two characters—Socrates and his friend Criton, both old men from the same district. Phaedo, on the other hand, includes a wide array of characters in addition to Socrates and Criton: the Py- thagoreans Simmias the Theban, and Cebes; Socrates’ disciples—Phaedo, Apollodoros, Critobulos, Hermo- genes, Antisthenes, Aeschines, Menexenus, Ctesippus, Epiganes, Phaedonides, Euclides, Terpsion— Athenian citizens and visitors from other cities. Here too are Socrates’ wife, Xantippe, with their small son in her arms, and Socrates’ two older boys, weeping relatives, the door-keeper, prison guard, archontes who were charged with ensuring that the death sentence was car- ried out, the servant who prepared the hemlock, and a slave. And in the exposition of the dialogue, Phae- do, a month after Socrates’ death, describes the event to Echecrates, a Pythagorean from Phlius.

Both dialogues develop a parallel inner and outer Story line. The inner line is Socratic, the outer line is represented by his friends. Neither dialogue describes, as did Apology, the painful conflict between Socrates and his enemies in the court. Here we find only his close friends, his like-minded comrades and disciples. Even those who must enforce the death sentence ad- mire Socrates for his serenity and do their duty against their will.

There is no conflict among the characters in Crito and Phaedo, for everyone shares complete ideological harmony, compassion and understanding, but the si- tuation is intensely dramatic. Socrates no longer fights to defend himself as he did in Apology. He has accept- ed his fate and is serene. He has no desire to flee, considering it his duty before ancestral laws to remain in prison and meet his death calmly. It’s as if Socrates has already crossed to the other side and is seeing his friends from beyond the fatal boundary dividing this world from the next. In the last days and hours of his

life, Socrates lives in his own special inner world. Around him teems the outer life filled with troubles and cares.

In Phaedo we listen to a slow-moving conversation (it is still a long time before Socrates must die al dusk) about the immortal soul that will live eternally in the next world. Thus, death is not frightening. Heavy in heart, Socrates’ disciples and Pythagorean friends who share his views, eagerly listen to their Teacher's words. Majestic pictures of a different radiant world come to life: our impoverished and dark world cannot even begin to compare with its brilliance. We are given a de- tailed picture of the topography of the world beyond, with its mighty rivers and precipices. These vivid pic- tures represent a visual image of the logical consistency of the four Pythagorean proofs of the immortality of the soul. Socrates, the hero, is deeply convinced that what he is doing is right. There are no enemies here for him to persuade, as there were at his trial. What he must do is to try to instill confidence and com- posure in his friends. There is no tragic irony: Socrates has acquired a different, a higher form of wisdom that imparts tranquillity.

Whereas in Apology Socrates struggled with fate, here he accepts it, merges with it and himself becomes the embodiment of that fate. Thus we have Socrates, majestic in his simplicity, surrounded by his friends, frightened at the prospect of the unknown. This is why Plato describes the last minutes in the life of the Teacher in such a simple, straightforward manner. The legend, the myth is already being formed, yet Plato seems not to be a part of it. As Phaedo tells us, the young Plato was not even present at Socrates’ death.

Plato removes himself from the final act in the dra- ma. He is, it would seem, an observer from afar, and thus manages to create the illusion of objectivity. It is not he who creates the legend whereby Socrates will live forever in the memory of his descendants. He is merely relating what happened according to Socrates’ disciples. It is they who are so partial and thus they who are responsible for creating the legend. The com- eee of Plato's removing himself from the action

e vivid, almost tangible portrayal of the death

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scene allows the reader of Phuedo to experience the event vicariously.

The dialogue is composed of three parts, the central one being a philosophical discussion where the listeners eagerly follow the intricate path of Socrates’ thoughts, The major objective of the dialogue is laid out in the prologue when Socrates is released from his chains, and is affirmed in the epilogue when the philosopher asks that a cock be sacrificed to Asclepias—to thank the god for recovery from a severe illness. It is only at this point that Socrates is being freed not from iron chains but from the much heavier chains of the struggle with injustice. The three-act drama ends with a redeem- ing sacrifice to the gods. The equilibrium, disrupted by the bold hero’s struggle with fate is now restored,

Plato also wrote dialogues entirely constructed on consecutive speeches revealing the main theme of the conversation from different points of view. The con- versation takes place in a relaxed atmosphere around a table and is sometimes interrupted by what would appear to be inappropriate scenes of mirth that have nothing in common with the profound topic under dis- cussion. But in fact these scenes are in complete har- mony with the easy atmosphere of sharing wine with friends.

The reader should not be surprised that such serious discussions take place around a banquet table. We have already mentioned that the Greeks loved to speak, and did it with greatest skill. The heroes in Homer's Iliad gather in wise Nestor’s tent to feast, drink and converse. And, when feasting at the table of King Alcyoneus, Odysseus relates wonderful stories to fascinate the cu- rious and attentive men who were hungry for news. Xenophon of Colophon wrote elegant elegies describ- ing feasts where intellectual discussions were held in a solemn and austere atmosphere.

The topics discussed at the table changed as the evening wore on. The most interesting discussion be- gan after the eating, when the wine was served. Usually the wine was diluted with water and served very cold. The general conversation was not only entertaining but also highly intellectual, touching upon philosophic- al, ethical and aesthetic questions. These profound dis- cussions were often interspersed with laughter and

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joking, for the combination of the serious and the humorous was only natural at a feast. The atmosphere of intellectual inspiration served to sharpen one’s mind and wit, while the musicians and dancers enhanced a carefree festive mood of the gathering.

Plato’s rival, Xenophon, described a similar banquet in Symposium. Here, the intellectual discussion is in- terrupted to allow the actors to speak their lines, and the guests enjoy the music of the flute and lyre.

Plato’s Symposium is a genuine drama. Socrates is surrounded by his friends and disciples, and there is an unusual atmosphere of harmony. But this friendli- ness only serves to emphasize the special spirit of the discussion and the competition among those present. We are witnesses to a contest between philosophical orators similar to the famous singing contests.

One theme is discussed—man’s ascent to the highest Good, which is nothing more than the embodiment of the idea of the highest love. This theme is developed in different ways. Each of the participants in the con- test preserves the main melody but enriches it with his own variation. First one musical voice is raised and then another, each voice joining in a specific order. As the theme expands, the voices become stronger, more confident. Then Socrates begins to speak, and the others listen in reverential silence.

But it turns out that Socrates himself merely repeats the words of the wise priestess Diotima. His voice echoes hers and later this theme is developed by Al- cibiades, who at the end of the competition presents Socrates as the living embodiment of spiritual beauty.

We list here the participants of the contest in the order of their speeches: Phaedrus, Pausanias, Eryxi- machus, Aristophanes, Agathon, Socrates, and Alcibia- des. There are seven speeches, seven voices in Sympo- sium, and each performs his part flawlessly. But while the seven voices exhibit outer harmony, there is inner turmoil. Frequently one voice contradicts another, only later to merge in the single choir.

The contest between the panegyrists to love may also be called an agon. This Greek word means “‘a struggle” and was used to denote contests between athletes, run- ners, chariots, singers, orators, poets, musicians, dra- matists. Agon was the contest between characters in

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ancient comedies and was the major theme of the play. In a classical dramatic comedy Agon is the Struggle of ideas passionately defended by the rival sides, in which the opponents were so excited by the dispute that the verbal exchanges often grew into a genuine row.

Plato's dialogues are often composed on the princi- ple of stage agon. But this agon differs in intensity de- pending on the nature of the rivalry between the char- acters in the dialogue. Sometimes the rivalry is friend- ly, at other times it is hostile. Hence, rivals were called antagonists, i.e., opponents in a Struggle.

Hesiod, an ancient poet of the 8th-7th centuries B.C., stated outright in his poem Works and Days that there existed two Erydes—goddesses of dispute. The good Erida encourages man to compete with others in crafts and labor and thus promotes independence and ingenuity; the evil Erida incites envious competition among people and merciless fighting. During the time of Socrates and Plato, disputes between the Sophists, where each disputant tried as hard as possible to de- feat his opponent, were called eristic, and differed from dialectics where both parties were interested in reaching a goal and tried to achieve it through the Process of questions and answers.

Plato was well familiar with the creative works of the comics Aristophanes and Epicharmus and the mimes by Sophron, and his dramatic dialogues and vivid characters no doubt reveal their influence. Al- though Aristophanes had harshly ridiculed Socrates back in 423 in his comedy Clouds, Plato saw nothing wrong with bringing the two men together as friends in Symposium and writing an epigram to Aristophanes.

It required a fine appreciation of Aristophanes’ in- tricate comedy, with its sharp and often coarse lan- guage, fantastic situations and unbridled buffoonery, to dare to proclaim the soul of the comic to be a temple to Charites, the goddesses of youthful refinement and grace. '

The ancients said that Plato's philosophy concerning eternal, immutable ideas was influenced by Epichar- mus’ ideas that there was a world of changing, sen- Sually perceptible objects and an unchanging, eternal world that could be comprehended only by the power of mind. Epicharmus (6-5th centuries B.C.) created

his philosophy before Plato was born, but it seems he foresaw that his thoughts would be of great value for his descendants:

And as 1 think—for when 1 think anything

1 know it full well—that my words will

some day be remembered; some one will

take them and free them from the metre

in which they are now set, nay, will

give them instead a purple robe, embroidering it with fine phrases; and,

being invincible,

he will make every one else an easy prey.

Still in ancient times it was stated that Plato was the first to use questions and answers in discourse, the first to use the term “dialectics” and an analytical form of research.* Apparently what is meant is that Plato systematically began to express in literary form what he had heard and so admired in the discussions of the brilliant dialectician Socrates.

Thus, comedic agon, intense dramatic situation and refined philosophical discussion enriched Plato’s dia- logues. In Symposium, for example, we witness a dig- nified competition, an agon of like-minded individuals trying jointly to define the highest Good. This distin- guished Symposium from a number of other dia- logues by the philosopher where agon appears in an en- tirely different form. Having common views does not imply that these views are uniform. On the contrary, like-mindedness often presupposes a marked differ- ence of opinions and is shaped in the course of the dis- cussion and selection of theses necessary to reach the completeness of the concept in question. This is why the personages in Symposium, all quite real, were se- lected by Plato on the basis of their different charac- ters.

Phaedrus has a penchant for eloquence and the phi- losophy of love. Knowledgeable in history, mythology and genealogy, he is, however, impractical and poor, living in a world of poetic fancy. In his speech, Phaed- rus praises Eros as the most powerful god, the one who gives man bliss in life and in death.

* See the ancient philosophy historian Diogenes Laertius.

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Unlike Phaedrus, the next man to speak, Pausanias, is widely experienced with a greal interest in philo- sophical disputes and their logical formulation. He is not satisfied with Phaedrus’ generalizations and imme- diately seeks, in a friendly way, to offer a more precise definition. According to Pausanias, Eros does not exist “in general”. There are two Aphrodites: the celestial Urania for a select few, and the earthly Pandemos for everyone else. And since Eros is the son of Aphro- dite, there must be two Eroses as well. One is sublime and beautiful, the other is vulgar and insignificant.

Next Eryximachus speaks. The son of a famous doctor and himself a physician, he is a true empiricist and materialist, as is only fitting for a man who deals with all manifestations of nature. Eryximachus feels that Pausanias has left the topic unfinished. First Eros was discussed “in general”, then there was talk of two Eroses, and now Eryximachus strives to complete the picture by joining the general and the particular. Here he expresses a view typical of Greek phy- siologists: the art of healing demonstrates that love lives not only in the human soul with its quest for beauty but in many other living things in the world—in the bodies of animals and even plants. Eros is universal and a part of everything alive. Eryximachus’ views are reminiscent of those of the philosopher Empe- docles, who believed love was the unifying principle of the entire world. Even in the Homeric Hymns love was said to conquer “mortals on the earth, birds flying high in the sky, and all forms of animals.” The first triad of speeches has now been concluded. When the Second triad begins, Plato, like a good director, allows the men at the banquet to laugh and relax. Aristo- phanes, the comic who mocked Socrates, speaks first. In his plays he is bitingly sarcastic, quick to mock and Scathing in his criticism. But in real life he is old- fashioned and demanding of others. Evidently he has not had time to prepare his speech, so he pretends to have eaten his fill of food and being now unable to speak because of an attack of hiccoughs. This is why he allows Eryximachus to take his turn, and when he speaks, he is in the middle of two oratory triads.

Aristophanes begins by declaring a completely dif- ferent view of Eros, the god who most loves humans

and helps them when they are ill or troubled. Troubles are not just physical, and Aristophanes, who also loved people, has himself helped cure them with laughter, In Aristophanes’ opinion, Eros is man’s quest for integ- rity. We hear the words “quest” and * integrity” for the first time. But Aristophanes takes a purely comical approach in his description, which is even somewhat indecent in detail. This was characteristic of ancient comedies with their pagan all-permissiveness. Socrates will later take up the theme of the quest for integrity, but in a spiritual ,not physical sense, and using dramatic speech rather than comedy.

Aristophanes continues to amuse the guests, describ- ing the amusing sufferings of people who have been split in half by the gods. People are no longer whole; they have been divided as punishment for their injust- ice. Love, as Aristophanes explains it, is the hunger for the former wholeness and the search for one’s other half. It is the longing for the ancient physical indivisibility of the flesh rather than longing for divine wholeness which ascends from the body to the soul, from earthly beauty to the higher idea.

After Aristophanes has spoken, the others exchange remarks, commenting that the comic’s speech was something special, different from the others, but also noting that Eryximachus has spoken well too. It is in- teresting that the host of the banquet, the tragic poet Agathon, refers to his guests as “spectators” waiting to hear splendid speeches. Socrates laughs at Agathon’s nervousness as he prepares to speak. How, he asks, can the experienced playwright be nervous about speaking before such a small circle when he has often been on stage with his actors before a performance and faced thousands of spectators without the slightest fear. Agathon answers that a few intelligent people are more frightening than many who are ignorant.

Still nervous, Agathon begins the second triad of speeches by praising the beautiful, young and gentle god who manages to slip in wherever he wants without any vit one brates eh ne pertection This is gods and people, and it is E fe eta aa

ros, perfect and beautiful, who is the source of these qualities.

Now it is Socrates who must speak. He takes an exagegeratedly deep breath before pronouncing what he believes to be the final speech in praise of Eros. It is clear that Socrates plays the role of a stage actor here. Speaking in a joking manner, he seems to have put on the comic mask. His words are true, but he feigns ignorance in order to teach the others. To state his case more forcibly, Socrates presents his views in a form of a dialogue which he supposedly had with Dioti- ma, a wise priestess and teacher of philosophy.

This is a lively conversation in which Socrates speaks both parts—his and Diotima's. The questions and answers are supplied by the same person, but we see before us Socrates, playing the role of a naive and simple man, and also the priestess Diotima, a so- phisticated dialectician.

In his usual straightforward manner, Socrates ex- plains that Eros is the eternal longing for the highest Good. To make his point more clearly, he makes up a myth filled with subtle dialectics about the birth of Eros, the son of Poverty and Resource. Here Socrates discusses understanding of the ideas of beauty and good, beginning with the quest to acquire individual worldly goods and then beautiful things in general; moving on to the quest for beautiful individual spirits and then the beautiful general spirit. Further he talks about the quest for the beautiful sciences and for that culmination of all sciences represented by the eternal and immutable idea of beauty, the highest Good, or true virtue. :

After Socrates speaks, it would seem the topic of Eros has been exhausted. Like a goblet of wine being passed around a banquet table, the men have had their turns in speaking. But Plato cannot end the dialogue with this impeccable logical construction. Now the Eros Socrates has defined by means of abstract thought must appear embodied in human form. This turns out to be none other than the inebriated Alcibiades who, wearing a wreath of violets and ivy, unexpectedly enters the banquet room accompanied by a flutist and merry friends.

It is now Alcibiades’ turn to perform. Like Socrates, Alcibiades puts on a mask, figuratively speaking, pretending to be more drunk than he really is. Reckless

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and daring, this handsome fellow is given the opportun- ity to speak the truth about Socrates, to describe him as the living embodiment of the quest for higher spiritual beauty.

What, Alcibiades asks, is all