And so, Glaucon, we have
arrived at the conclusion that in the perfect State wives and children are to be
in common; and that all education and the pursuits of war and peace are also to
be common, and the best philosophers and the bravest warriors are to be their
kings?
That, replied Glaucon,
has been acknowledged.
Yes, I said; and we have
further acknowledged that the governors, when appointed themselves, will take
their soldiers and place them in houses such as we were describing, which are
common to all, and contain nothing private, or individual; and about their
property, you remember what we agreed?
Yes, I remember that no
one was to have any of the ordinary possessions of mankind; they were to be
warrior athletes and guardians, receiving from the other citizens, in lieu of
annual payment, only their maintenance, and they were to take care of themselves
and of the whole State.
True, I said; and now
that this division of our task is concluded, let us find the point at which we
digressed, that we may return into the old path.
There is no difficulty in
returning; you implied, then as now, that you had finished the description of
the State: you said that such a State was good, and that the man was good who
answered to it, although, as now appears, you had more excellent things to
relate both of State and man. And you said further, that if this was the true
form, then the others were false; and of the false forms, you said, as I
remember, that there were four principal ones, and that their defects, and the
defects of the individuals corresponding to them, were worth examining. When we
had seen all the individuals, and finally agreed as to who was the best and who
was the worst of them, we were to consider whether the best was not also the
happiest, and the worst the most miserable. I asked you what were the four forms
of government of which you spoke, and then Polemarchus and Adeimantus put in
their word; and you began again, and have found your way to the point at which
we have now arrived.
Your recollection, I
said, is most exact.
Then, like a wrestler, he
replied, you must put yourself again in the same position; and let me ask the
same questions, and do you give me the same answer which you were about to give
me then.
Yes, if I can, I will, I
said.
I shall particularly wish
to hear what were the four constitutions of which you were speaking.
That question, I said, is
easily answered: the four governments of which I spoke, so far as they have
distinct names, are, first, those of Crete and Sparta, which are generally
applauded; what is termed oligarchy comes next; this is not equally approved,
and is a form of government which teems with evils: thirdly, democracy, which
naturally follows oligarchy, although very different: and lastly comes tyranny,
great and famous, which differs from them all, and is the fourth and worst
disorder of a State. I do not know, do you? of any other constitution which can
be said to have a distinct character. There are lordships and principalities
which are bought and sold, and some other intermediate forms of government. But
these are nondescripts and may be found equally among Hellenes and among
barbarians.
Yes, he replied, we
certainly hear of many curious forms of government which exist among them.
Do you know, I said, that
governments vary as the dispositions of men vary, and that there must be as many
of the one as there are of the other? For we cannot suppose that States are made
of 'oak and rock,' and not out of the human natures which are in them, and which
in a figure turn the scale and draw other things after them?
Yes, he said, the States
are as the men are; they grow out of human characters.
Then if the constitutions
of States are five, the dispositions of individual minds will also be five?
Certainly.
Him who answers to
aristocracy, and whom we rightly call just and good, we have already described.
We have.
Then let us now proceed
to describe the inferior sort of natures, being the contentious and ambitious,
who answer to the Spartan polity; also the oligarchical, democratical, and
tyrannical. Let us place the most just by the side of the most unjust, and when
we see them we shall be able to compare the relative happiness or unhappiness of
him who leads a life of pure justice or pure injustice. The enquiry will then be
completed. And we shall know whether we ought to pursue injustice, as
Thrasymachus advises, or in accordance with the conclusions of the argument to
prefer justice.
Certainly, he replied, we
must do as you say.
Shall we follow our old
plan, which we adopted with a view to clearness, of taking the State first and
then proceeding to the individual, and begin with the government of honour? --I
know of no name for such a government other than timocracy, or perhaps timarchy.
We will compare with this the like character in the individual; and, after that,
consider oligarchical man; and then again we will turn our attention to
democracy and the democratical man; and lastly, we will go and view the city of
tyranny, and once more take a look into the tyrant's soul, and try to arrive at
a satisfactory decision.
That way of viewing and
judging of the matter will be very suitable.
First, then, I said, let
us enquire how timocracy (the government of honour) arises out of aristocracy
(the government of the best). Clearly, all political changes originate in
divisions of the actual governing power; a government which is united, however
small, cannot be moved.
Very true, he said.
In what way, then, will
our city be moved, and in what manner the two classes of auxiliaries and rulers
disagree among themselves or with one another? Shall we, after the manner of
Homer, pray the Muses to tell us 'how discord first arose'? Shall we imagine
them in solemn mockery, to play and jest with us as if we were children, and to
address us in a lofty tragic vein, making believe to be in earnest?
How would they address
us?
After this manner: --A
city which is thus constituted can hardly be shaken; but, seeing that everything
which has a beginning has also an end, even a constitution such as yours will
not last for ever, but will in time be dissolved. And this is the dissolution:
--In plants that grow in the earth, as well as in animals that move on the
earth's surface, fertility and sterility of soul and body occur when the
circumferences of the circles of each are completed, which in short-lived
existences pass over a short space, and in long-lived ones over a long space.
But to the knowledge of human fecundity and sterility all the wisdom and
education of your rulers will not attain; the laws which regulate them will not
be discovered by an intelligence which is alloyed with sense, but will escape
them, and they will bring children into the world when they ought not. Now that
which is of divine birth has a period which is contained in a perfect number,
but the period of human birth is comprehended in a number in which first
increments by involution and evolution (or squared and cubed) obtaining three
intervals and four terms of like and unlike, waxing and waning numbers, make all
the terms commensurable and agreeable to one another. The base of these (3) with
a third added (4) when combined with five (20) and raised to the third power
furnishes two harmonies; the first a square which is a hundred times as great
(400 = 4 X 100), and the other a figure having one side equal to the former, but
oblong, consisting of a hundred numbers squared upon rational diameters of a
square (i. e. omitting fractions), the side of which is five (7 X 7 = 49 X 100 =
4900), each of them being less by one (than the perfect square which includes
the fractions, sc. 50) or less by two perfect squares of irrational diameters
(of a square the side of which is five = 50 + 50 = 100); and a hundred cubes of
three (27 X 100 = 2700 + 4900 + 400 = 8000). Now this number represents a
geometrical figure which has control over the good and evil of births. For when
your guardians are ignorant of the law of births, and unite bride and bridegroom
out of season, the children will not be goodly or fortunate. And though only the
best of them will be appointed by their predecessors, still they will be
unworthy to hold their fathers' places, and when they come into power as
guardians, they will soon be found to fall in taking care of us, the Muses,
first by under-valuing music; which neglect will soon extend to gymnastic; and
hence the young men of your State will be less cultivated. In the succeeding
generation rulers will be appointed who have lost the guardian power of testing
the metal of your different races, which, like Hesiod's, are of gold and silver
and brass and iron. And so iron will be mingled with silver, and brass with
gold, and hence there will arise dissimilarity and inequality and irregularity,
which always and in all places are causes of hatred and war. This the Muses
affirm to be the stock from which discord has sprung, wherever arising; and this
is their answer to us.
Yes, and we may assume
that they answer truly.
Why, yes, I said, of
course they answer truly; how can the Muses speak falsely?
And what do the Muses say
next?
When discord arose, then
the two races were drawn different ways: the iron and brass fell to acquiring
money and land and houses and gold and silver; but the gold and silver races,
not wanting money but having the true riches in their own nature, inclined
towards virtue and the ancient order of things. There was a battle between them,
and at last they agreed to distribute their land and houses among individual
owners; and they enslaved their friends and maintainers, whom they had formerly
protected in the condition of freemen, and made of them subjects and servants;
and they themselves were engaged in war and in keeping a watch against them.
I believe that you have
rightly conceived the origin of the change.
And the new government
which thus arises will be of a form intermediate between oligarchy and
aristocracy?
Very true.
Such will be the change,
and after the change has been made, how will they proceed? Clearly, the new
State, being in a mean between oligarchy and the perfect State, will partly
follow one and partly the other, and will also have some peculiarities.
True, he said.
In the honour given to
rulers, in the abstinence of the warrior class from agriculture, handicrafts,
and trade in general, in the institution of common meals, and in the attention
paid to gymnastics and military training --in all these respects this State will
resemble the former.
True.
But in the fear of
admitting philosophers to power, because they are no longer to be had simple and
earnest, but are made up of mixed elements; and in turning from them to
passionate and less complex characters, who are by nature fitted for war rather
than peace; and in the value set by them upon military stratagems and
contrivances, and in the waging of everlasting wars --this State will be for the
most part peculiar.
Yes.
Yes, I said; and men of
this stamp will be covetous of money, like those who live in oligarchies; they
will have, a fierce secret longing after gold and silver, which they will hoard
in dark places, having magazines and treasuries of their own for the deposit and
concealment of them; also castles which are just nests for their eggs, and in
which they will spend large sums on their wives, or on any others whom they
please.
That is most true, he
said.
And they are miserly
because they have no means of openly acquiring the money which they prize; they
will spend that which is another man's on the gratification of their desires,
stealing their pleasures and running away like children from the law, their
father: they have been schooled not by gentle influences but by force, for they
have neglected her who is the true Muse, the companion of reason and philosophy,
and have honoured gymnastic more than music.
Undoubtedly, he said, the
form of government which you describe is a mixture of good and evil.
Why, there is a mixture,
I said; but one thing, and one thing only, is predominantly seen, --the spirit
of contention and ambition; and these are due to the prevalence of the
passionate or spirited element.
Assuredly, he said.
Such is the origin and
such the character of this State, which has been described in outline only; the
more perfect execution was not required, for a sketch is enough to show the type
of the most perfectly just and most perfectly unjust; and to go through all the
States and all the characters of men, omitting none of them, would be an
interminable labour.
Very true, he replied.
Now what man answers to
this form of government-how did he come into being, and what is he like?
SOCRATES - ADEIMANTUS
I think, said Adeimantus,
that in the spirit of contention which characterises him, he is not unlike our
friend Glaucon.
Perhaps, I said, he may
be like him in that one point; but there are other respects in which he is very
different.
In what respects?
He should have more of
self-assertion and be less cultivated, and yet a friend of culture; and he
should be a good listener, but no speaker. Such a person is apt to be rough with
slaves, unlike the educated man, who is too proud for that; and he will also be
courteous to freemen, and remarkably obedient to authority; he is a lover of
power and a lover of honour; claiming to be a ruler, not because he is eloquent,
or on any ground of that sort, but because he is a soldier and has performed
feats of arms; he is also a lover of gymnastic exercises and of the chase.
Yes, that is the type of
character which answers to timocracy.
Such an one will despise
riches only when he is young; but as he gets older he will be more and more
attracted to them, because he has a piece of the avaricious nature in him, and
is not singleminded towards virtue, having lost his best guardian.
Who was that? said
Adeimantus.
Philosophy, I said,
tempered with music, who comes and takes her abode in a man, and is the only
saviour of his virtue throughout life.
Good, he said.
Such, I said, is the
timocratical youth, and he is like the timocratical State.
Exactly.
His origin is as follows:
--He is often the young son of a grave father, who dwells in an ill-governed
city, of which he declines the honours and offices, and will not go to law, or
exert himself in any way, but is ready to waive his rights in order that he may
escape trouble.
And how does the son come
into being?
The character of the son
begins to develop when he hears his mother complaining that her husband has no
place in the government, of which the consequence is that she has no precedence
among other women. Further, when she sees her husband not very eager about
money, and instead of battling and railing in the law courts or assembly, taking
whatever happens to him quietly; and when she observes that his thoughts always
centre in himself, while he treats her with very considerable indifference, she
is annoyed, and says to her son that his father is only half a man and far too
easy-going: adding all the other complaints about her own ill-treatment which
women are so fond of rehearsing.
Yes, said Adeimantus,
they give us plenty of them, and their complaints are so like themselves.
And you know, I said,
that the old servants also, who are supposed to be attached to the family, from
time to time talk privately in the same strain to the son; and if they see any
one who owes money to his father, or is wronging him in any way, and he falls to
prosecute them, they tell the youth that when he grows up he must retaliate upon
people of this sort, and be more of a man than his father. He has only to walk
abroad and he hears and sees the same sort of thing: those who do their own
business in the city are called simpletons, and held in no esteem, while the
busy-bodies are honoured and applauded. The result is that the young man,
hearing and seeing all these thing --hearing too, the words of his father, and
having a nearer view of his way of life, and making comparisons of him and
others --is drawn opposite ways: while his father is watering and nourishing the
rational principle in his soul, the others are encouraging the passionate and
appetitive; and he being not originally of a bad nature, but having kept bad
company, is at last brought by their joint influence to a middle point, and
gives up the kingdom which is within him to the middle principle of
contentiousness and passion, and becomes arrogant and ambitious.
You seem to me to have
described his origin perfectly.
Then we have now, I said,
the second form of government and the second type of character?
We have.
Next, let us look at
another man who, as Aeschylus says,
Is set over against
another State; or rather, as our plan requires, begin with the State.
By all means.
I believe that oligarchy
follows next in order.
And what manner of
government do you term oligarchy?
A government resting on a
valuation of property, in which the rich have power and the poor man is deprived
of it.
I understand, he replied.
Ought I not to begin by
describing how the change from timocracy to oligarchy arises?
Yes.
Well, I said, no eyes are
required in order to see how the one passes into the other.
How?
The accumulation of gold
in the treasury of private individuals is ruin the of timocracy; they invent
illegal modes of expenditure; for what do they or their wives care about the
law?
Yes, indeed.
And then one, seeing
another grow rich, seeks to rival him, and thus the great mass of the citizens
become lovers of money.
Likely enough.
And so they grow richer
and richer, and the more they think of making a fortune the less they think of
virtue; for when riches and virtue are placed together in the scales of the
balance, the one always rises as the other falls.
True.
And in proportion as
riches and rich men are honoured in the State, virtue and the virtuous are
dishonoured.
Clearly.
And what is honoured is
cultivated, and that which has no honour is neglected.
That is obvious.
And so at last, instead
of loving contention and glory, men become lovers of trade and money; they
honour and look up to the rich man, and make a ruler of him, and dishonour the
poor man.
They do so.
They next proceed to make
a law which fixes a sum of money as the qualification of citizenship; the sum is
higher in one place and lower in another, as the oligarchy is more or less
exclusive; and they allow no one whose property falls below the amount fixed to
have any share in the government. These changes in the constitution they effect
by force of arms, if intimidation has not already done their work.
Very true.
And this, speaking
generally, is the way in which oligarchy is established.
Yes, he said; but what
are the characteristics of this form of government, and what are the defects of
which we were speaking?
First of all, I said,
consider the nature of the qualification just think what would happen if pilots
were to be chosen according to their property, and a poor man were refused
permission to steer, even though he were a better pilot?
You mean that they would
shipwreck?
Yes; and is not this true
of the government of anything?
I should imagine so.
Except a city? --or would
you include a city?
Nay, he said, the case of
a city is the strongest of all, inasmuch as the rule of a city is the greatest
and most difficult of all.
This, then, will be the
first great defect of oligarchy?
Clearly.
And here is another
defect which is quite as bad.
What defect?
The inevitable division:
such a State is not one, but two States, the one of poor, the other of rich men;
and they are living on the same spot and always conspiring against one another.
That, surely, is at least
as bad.
Another discreditable
feature is, that, for a like reason, they are incapable of carrying on any war.
Either they arm the multitude, and then they are more afraid of them than of the
enemy; or, if they do not call them out in the hour of battle, they are
oligarchs indeed, few to fight as they are few to rule. And at the same time
their fondness for money makes them unwilling to pay taxes.
How discreditable!
And, as we said before,
under such a constitution the same persons have too many callings --they are
husbandmen, tradesmen, warriors, all in one. Does that look well?
Anything but well.
There is another evil
which is, perhaps, the greatest of all, and to which this State first begins to
be liable.
What evil?
A man may sell all that
he has, and another may acquire his property; yet after the sale he may dwell in
the city of which he is no longer a part, being neither trader, nor artisan, nor
horseman, nor hoplite, but only a poor, helpless creature.
Yes, that is an evil
which also first begins in this State.
The evil is certainly not
prevented there; for oligarchies have both the extremes of great wealth and
utter poverty.
True.
But think again: In his
wealthy days, while he was spending his money, was a man of this sort a whit
more good to the State for the purposes of citizenship? Or did he only seem to
be a member of the ruling body, although in truth he was neither ruler nor
subject, but just a spendthrift?
As you say, he seemed to
be a ruler, but was only a spendthrift.
May we not say that this
is the drone in the house who is like the drone in the honeycomb, and that the
one is the plague of the city as the other is of the hive?
Just so, Socrates.
And God has made the
flying drones, Adeimantus, all without stings, whereas of the walking drones he
has made some without stings but others have dreadful stings; of the stingless
class are those who in their old age end as paupers; of the stingers come all
the criminal class, as they are termed.
Most true, he said.
Clearly then, whenever
you see paupers in a State, somewhere in that neighborhood there are hidden away
thieves, and cutpurses and robbers of temples, and all sorts of malefactors.
Clearly.
Well, I said, and in
oligarchical States do you not find paupers?
Yes, he said; nearly
everybody is a pauper who is not a ruler.
And may we be so bold as
to affirm that there are also many criminals to be found in them, rogues who
have stings, and whom the authorities are careful to restrain by force?
Certainly, we may be so
bold.
The existence of such
persons is to be attributed to want of education, ill-training, and an evil
constitution of the State?
True.
Such, then, is the form
and such are the evils of oligarchy; and there may be many other evils.
Very likely.
Then oligarchy, or the
form of government in which the rulers are elected for their wealth, may now be
dismissed. Let us next proceed to consider the nature and origin of the
individual who answers to this State.
By all means.
Does not the timocratical
man change into the oligarchical on this wise?
How?
A time arrives when the
representative of timocracy has a son: at first he begins by emulating his
father and walking in his footsteps, but presently he sees him of a sudden
foundering against the State as upon a sunken reef, and he and all that he has
is lost; he may have been a general or some other high officer who is brought to
trial under a prejudice raised by informers, and either put to death, or exiled,
or deprived of the privileges of a citizen, and all his property taken from him.
Nothing more likely.
And the son has seen and
known all this --he is a ruined man, and his fear has taught him to knock
ambition and passion head-foremost from his bosom's throne; humbled by poverty
he takes to money-making and by mean and miserly savings and hard work gets a
fortune together. Is not such an one likely to seat the concupiscent and
covetous element on the vacant throne and to suffer it to play the great king
within him, girt with tiara and chain and scimitar?
Most true, he replied.
And when he has made
reason and spirit sit down on the ground obediently on either side of their
sovereign, and taught them to know their place, he compels the one to think only
of how lesser sums may be turned into larger ones, and will not allow the other
to worship and admire anything but riches and rich men, or to be ambitious of
anything so much as the acquisition of wealth and the means of acquiring it.
Of all changes, he said,
there is none so speedy or so sure as the conversion of the ambitious youth into
the avaricious one.
And the avaricious, I
said, is the oligarchical youth?
Yes, he said; at any rate
the individual out of whom he came is like the State out of which oligarchy
came.
Let us then consider
whether there is any likeness between them.
Very good.
First, then, they
resemble one another in the value which they set upon wealth?
Certainly.
Also in their penurious,
laborious character; the individual only satisfies his necessary appetites, and
confines his expenditure to them; his other desires he subdues, under the idea
that they are unprofitable.
True.
He is a shabby fellow,
who saves something out of everything and makes a purse for himself; and this is
the sort of man whom the vulgar applaud. Is he not a true image of the State
which he represents?
He appears to me to be
so; at any rate money is highly valued by him as well as by the State.
You see that he is not a
man of cultivation, I said.
I imagine not, he said;
had he been educated he would never have made a blind god director of his
chorus, or given him chief honour.
Excellent! I said. Yet
consider: Must we not further admit that owing to this want of cultivation there
will be found in him dronelike desires as of pauper and rogue, which are
forcibly kept down by his general habit of life?
True.
Do you know where you
will have to look if you want to discover his rogueries?
Where must I look?
You should see him where
he has some great opportunity of acting dishonestly, as in the guardianship of
an orphan.
Aye.
It will be clear enough
then that in his ordinary dealings which give him a reputation for honesty he
coerces his bad passions by an enforced virtue; not making them see that they
are wrong, or taming them by reason, but by necessity and fear constraining
them, and because he trembles for his possessions.
To be sure.
Yes, indeed, my dear
friend, but you will find that the natural desires of the drone commonly exist
in him all the same whenever he has to spend what is not his own.
Yes, and they will be
strong in him too.
The man, then, will be at
war with himself; he will be two men, and not one; but, in general, his better
desires will be found to prevail over his inferior ones.
True.
For these reasons such an
one will be more respectable than most people; yet the true virtue of a
unanimous and harmonious soul will flee far away and never come near him.
I should expect so.
And surely, the miser
individually will be an ignoble competitor in a State for any prize of victory,
or other object of honourable ambition; he will not spend his money in the
contest for glory; so afraid is he of awakening his expensive appetites and
inviting them to help and join in the struggle; in true oligarchical fashion he
fights with a small part only of his resources, and the result commonly is that
he loses the prize and saves his money.
Very true.
Can we any longer doubt,
then, that the miser and money-maker answers to the oligarchical State?
There can be no doubt.
Next comes democracy; of
this the origin and nature have still to be considered by us; and then we will
enquire into the ways of the democratic man, and bring him up for judgement.
That, he said, is our
method.
Well, I said, and how
does the change from oligarchy into democracy arise? Is it not on this wise?
--The good at which such a State alms is to become as rich as possible, a desire
which is insatiable?
What then?
The rulers, being aware
that their power rests upon their wealth, refuse to curtail by law the
extravagance of the spendthrift youth because they gain by their ruin; they take
interest from them and buy up their estates and thus increase their own wealth
and importance?
To be sure.
There can be no doubt
that the love of wealth and the spirit of moderation cannot exist together in
citizens of the same State to any considerable extent; one or the other will be
disregarded.
That is tolerably clear.
And in oligarchical
States, from the general spread of carelessness and extravagance, men of good
family have often been reduced to beggary?
Yes, often.
And still they remain in
the city; there they are, ready to sting and fully armed, and some of them owe
money, some have forfeited their citizenship; a third class are in both
predicaments; and they hate and conspire against those who have got their
property, and against everybody else, and are eager for revolution.
That is true.
On the other hand, the
men of business, stooping as they walk, and pretending not even to see those
whom they have already ruined, insert their sting --that is, their money --into
some one else who is not on his guard against them, and recover the parent sum
many times over multiplied into a family of children: and so they make drone and
pauper to abound in the State.
Yes, he said, there are
plenty of them --that is certain.
The evil blazes up like a
fire; and they will not extinguish it, either by restricting a man's use of his
own property, or by another remedy:
What other?
One which is the next
best, and has the advantage of compelling the citizens to look to their
characters: --Let there be a general rule that every one shall enter into
voluntary contracts at his own risk, and there will be less of this scandalous
money-making, and the evils of which we were speaking will be greatly lessened
in the State.
Yes, they will be greatly
lessened.
At present the governors,
induced by the motives which I have named, treat their subjects badly; while
they and their adherents, especially the young men of the governing class, are
habituated to lead a life of luxury and idleness both of body and mind; they do
nothing, and are incapable of resisting either pleasure or pain.
Very true.
They themselves care only
for making money, and are as indifferent as the pauper to the cultivation of
virtue.
Yes, quite as
indifferent.
Such is the state of
affairs which prevails among them. And often rulers and their subjects may come
in one another's way, whether on a pilgrimage or a march, as fellow-soldiers or
fellow-sailors; aye, and they may observe the behaviour of each other in the
very moment of danger --for where danger is, there is no fear that the poor will
be despised by the rich --and very likely the wiry sunburnt poor man may be
placed in battle at the side of a wealthy one who has never spoilt his
complexion and has plenty of superfluous flesh --when he sees such an one
puffing and at his wit's end, how can he avoid drawing the conclusion that men
like him are only rich because no one has the courage to despoil them? And when
they meet in private will not people be saying to one another 'Our warriors are
not good for much'?
Yes, he said, I am quite
aware that this is their way of talking.
And, as in a body which
is diseased the addition of a touch from without may bring on illness, and
sometimes even when there is no external provocation a commotion may arise
within-in the same way wherever there is weakness in the State there is also
likely to be illness, of which the occasions may be very slight, the one party
introducing from without their oligarchical, the other their democratical
allies, and then the State falls sick, and is at war with herself; and may be at
times distracted, even when there is no external cause.
Yes, surely.
And then democracy comes
into being after the poor have conquered their opponents, slaughtering some and
banishing some, while to the remainder they give an equal share of freedom and
power; and this is the form of government in which the magistrates are commonly
elected by lot.
Yes, he said, that is the
nature of democracy, whether the revolution has been effected by arms, or
whether fear has caused the opposite party to withdraw.
And now what is their
manner of life, and what sort of a government have they? for as the government
is, such will be the man.
Clearly, he said.
In the first place, are
they not free; and is not the city full of freedom and frankness --a man may say
and do what he likes?
'Tis said so, he replied.
And where freedom is, the
individual is clearly able to order for himself his own life as he pleases?
Clearly.
Then in this kind of
State there will be the greatest variety of human natures?
There will.
This, then, seems likely
to be the fairest of States, being an embroidered robe which is spangled with
every sort of flower. And just as women and children think a variety of colours
to be of all things most charming, so there are many men to whom this State,
which is spangled with the manners and characters of mankind, will appear to be
the fairest of States.
Yes.
Yes, my good Sir, and
there will be no better in which to look for a government.
Why?
Because of the liberty
which reigns there --they have a complete assortment of constitutions; and he
who has a mind to establish a State, as we have been doing, must go to a
democracy as he would to a bazaar at which they sell them, and pick out the one
that suits him; then, when he has made his choice, he may found his State.
He will be sure to have
patterns enough.
And there being no
necessity, I said, for you to govern in this State, even if you have the
capacity, or to be governed, unless you like, or go to war when the rest go to
war, or to be at peace when others are at peace, unless you are so disposed
--there being no necessity also, because some law forbids you to hold office or
be a dicast, that you should not hold office or be a dicast, if you have a fancy
--is not this a way of life which for the moment is supremely delightful
For the moment, yes.
And is not their humanity
to the condemned in some cases quite charming? Have you not observed how, in a
democracy, many persons, although they have been sentenced to death or exile,
just stay where they are and walk about the world --the gentleman parades like a
hero, and nobody sees or cares?
Yes, he replied, many and
many a one.
See too, I said, the
forgiving spirit of democracy, and the 'don't care' about trifles, and the
disregard which she shows of all the fine principles which we solemnly laid down
at the foundation of the city --as when we said that, except in the case of some
rarely gifted nature, there never will be a good man who has not from his
childhood been used to play amid things of beauty and make of them a joy and a
study --how grandly does she trample all these fine notions of ours under her
feet, never giving a thought to the pursuits which make a statesman, and
promoting to honour any one who professes to be the people's friend.
Yes, she is of a noble
spirit.
These and other kindred
characteristics are proper to democracy, which is a charming form of government,
full of variety and disorder, and dispensing a sort of equality to equals and
unequals alike.
We know her well.
Consider now, I said,
what manner of man the individual is, or rather consider, as in the case of the
State, how he comes into being.
Very good, he said.
Is not this the way --he
is the son of the miserly and oligarchical father who has trained him in his own
habits?
Exactly.
And, like his father, he
keeps under by force the pleasures which are of the spending and not of the
getting sort, being those which are called unnecessary?
Obviously.
Would you like, for the
sake of clearness, to distinguish which are the necessary and which are the
unnecessary pleasures?
I should.
Are not necessary
pleasures those of which we cannot get rid, and of which the satisfaction is a
benefit to us? And they are rightly so, because we are framed by nature to
desire both what is beneficial and what is necessary, and cannot help it.
True.
We are not wrong
therefore in calling them necessary?
We are not.
And the desires of which
a man may get rid, if he takes pains from his youth upwards --of which the
presence, moreover, does no good, and in some cases the reverse of good --shall
we not be right in saying that all these are unnecessary?
Yes, certainly.
Suppose we select an
example of either kind, in order that we may have a general notion of them?
Very good.
Will not the desire of
eating, that is, of simple food and condiments, in so far as they are required
for health and strength, be of the necessary class?
That is what I should
suppose.
The pleasure of eating is
necessary in two ways; it does us good and it is essential to the continuance of
life?
Yes.
But the condiments are
only necessary in so far as they are good for health?
Certainly.
And the desire which goes
beyond this, or more delicate food, or other luxuries, which might generally be
got rid of, if controlled and trained in youth, and is hurtful to the body, and
hurtful to the soul in the pursuit of wisdom and virtue, may be rightly called
unnecessary?
Very true.
May we not say that these
desires spend, and that the others make money because they conduce to
production?
Certainly.
And of the pleasures of
love, and all other pleasures, the same holds good?
True.
And the drone of whom we
spoke was he who was surfeited in pleasures and desires of this sort, and was
the slave of the unnecessary desires, whereas he who was subject o the necessary
only was miserly and oligarchical?
Very true.
Again, let us see how the
democratical man grows out of the oligarchical: the following, as I suspect, is
commonly the process.
What is the process?
When a young man who has
been brought up as we were just now describing, in a vulgar and miserly way, has
tasted drones' honey and has come to associate with fierce and crafty natures
who are able to provide for him all sorts of refinements and varieties of
pleasure --then, as you may imagine, the change will begin of the oligarchical
principle within him into the democratical?
Inevitably.
And as in the city like
was helping like, and the change was effected by an alliance from without
assisting one division of the citizens, so too the young man is changed by a
class of desires coming from without to assist the desires within him, that
which is and alike again helping that which is akin and alike?
Certainly.
And if there be any ally
which aids the oligarchical principle within him, whether the influence of a
father or of kindred, advising or rebuking him, then there arises in his soul a
faction and an opposite faction, and he goes to war with himself.
It must be so.
And there are times when
the democratical principle gives way to the oligarchical, and some of his
desires die, and others are banished; a spirit of reverence enters into the
young man's soul and order is restored.
Yes, he said, that
sometimes happens.
And then, again, after
the old desires have been driven out, fresh ones spring up, which are akin to
them, and because he, their father, does not know how to educate them, wax
fierce and numerous.
Yes, he said, that is apt
to be the way.
They draw him to his old
associates, and holding secret intercourse with them, breed and multiply in him.
Very true.
At length they seize upon
the citadel of the young man's soul, which they perceive to be void of all
accomplishments and fair pursuits and true words, which make their abode in the
minds of men who are dear to the gods, and are their best guardians and
sentinels.
None better.
False and boastful
conceits and phrases mount upwards and take their place.
They are certain to do
so.
And so the young man
returns into the country of the lotus-eaters, and takes up his dwelling there in
the face of all men; and if any help be sent by his friends to the oligarchical
part of him, the aforesaid vain conceits shut the gate of the king's fastness;
and they will neither allow the embassy itself to enter, private if private
advisers offer the fatherly counsel of the aged will they listen to them or
receive them. There is a battle and they gain the day, and then modesty, which
they call silliness, is ignominiously thrust into exile by them, and temperance,
which they nickname unmanliness, is trampled in the mire and cast forth; they
persuade men that moderation and orderly expenditure are vulgarity and meanness,
and so, by the help of a rabble of evil appetites, they drive them beyond the
border.
Yes, with a will.
And when they have
emptied and swept clean the soul of him who is now in their power and who is
being initiated by them in great mysteries, the next thing is to bring back to
their house insolence and anarchy and waste and impudence in bright array having
garlands on their heads, and a great company with them, hymning their praises
and calling them by sweet names; insolence they term breeding, and anarchy
liberty, and waste magnificence, and impudence courage. And so the young man
passes out of his original nature, which was trained in the school of necessity,
into the freedom and libertinism of useless and unnecessary pleasures.
Yes, he said, the change
in him is visible enough.
After this he lives on,
spending his money and labour and time on unnecessary pleasures quite as much as
on necessary ones; but if he be fortunate, and is not too much disordered in his
wits, when years have elapsed, and the heyday of passion is over --supposing
that he then re-admits into the city some part of the exiled virtues, and does
not wholly give himself up to their successors --in that case he balances his
pleasures and lives in a sort of equilibrium, putting the government of himself
into the hands of the one which comes first and wins the turn; and when he has
had enough of that, then into the hands of another; he despises none of them but
encourages them all equally.
Very true, he said.
Neither does he receive
or let pass into the fortress any true word of advice; if any one says to him
that some pleasures are the satisfactions of good and noble desires, and others
of evil desires, and that he ought to use and honour some and chastise and
master the others --whenever this is repeated to him he shakes his head and says
that they are all alike, and that one is as good as another.
Yes, he said; that is the
way with him.
Yes, I said, he lives
from day to day indulging the appetite of the hour; and sometimes he is lapped
in drink and strains of the flute; then he becomes a water-drinker, and tries to
get thin; then he takes a turn at gymnastics; sometimes idling and neglecting
everything, then once more living the life of a philosopher; often he-is busy
with politics, and starts to his feet and says and does whatever comes into his
head; and, if he is emulous of any one who is a warrior, off he is in that
direction, or of men of business, once more in that. His life has neither law
nor order; and this distracted existence he terms joy and bliss and freedom; and
so he goes on.
Yes, he replied, he is
all liberty and equality.
Yes, I said; his life is
motley and manifold and an epitome of the lives of many; --he answers to the
State which we described as fair and spangled. And many a man and many a woman
will take him for their pattern, and many a constitution and many an example of
manners is contained in him.
Just so.
Let him then be set over
against democracy; he may truly be called the democratic man.
Let that be his place, he
said.
Last of all comes the
most beautiful of all, man and State alike, tyranny and the tyrant; these we
have now to consider.
Quite true, he said.
Say then, my friend, in
what manner does tyranny arise? --that it has a democratic origin is evident.
Clearly.
And does not tyranny
spring from democracy in the same manner as democracy from oligarchy --I mean,
after a sort?
How?
The good which oligarchy
proposed to itself and the means by which it was maintained was excess of wealth
--am I not right?
Yes.
And the insatiable desire
of wealth and the neglect of all other things for the sake of money-getting was
also the ruin of oligarchy?
True.
And democracy has her own
good, of which the insatiable desire brings her to dissolution?
What good?
Freedom, I replied;
which, as they tell you in a democracy, is the glory of the State --and that
therefore in a democracy alone will the freeman of nature deign to dwell.
Yes; the saying is in
everybody's mouth.
I was going to observe,
that the insatiable desire of this and the neglect of other things introduces
the change in democracy, which occasions a demand for tyranny.
How so?
When a democracy which is
thirsting for freedom has evil cupbearers presiding over the feast, and has
drunk too deeply of the strong wine of freedom, then, unless her rulers are very
amenable and give a plentiful draught, she calls them to account and punishes
them, and says that they are cursed oligarchs.
Yes, he replied, a very
common occurrence.
Yes, I said; and loyal
citizens are insultingly termed by her slaves who hug their chains and men of
naught; she would have subjects who are like rulers, and rulers who are like
subjects: these are men after her own heart, whom she praises and honours both
in private and public. Now, in such a State, can liberty have any limit?
Certainly not.
By degrees the anarchy
finds a way into private houses, and ends by getting among the animals and
infecting them.
How do you mean?
I mean that the father
grows accustomed to descend to the level of his sons and to fear them, and the
son is on a level with his father, he having no respect or reverence for either
of his parents; and this is his freedom, and metic is equal with the citizen and
the citizen with the metic, and the stranger is quite as good as either.
Yes, he said, that is the
way.
And these are not the
only evils, I said --there are several lesser ones: In such a state of society
the master fears and flatters his scholars, and the scholars despise their
masters and tutors; young and old are all alike; and the young man is on a level
with the old, and is ready to compete with him in word or deed; and old men
condescend to the young and are full of pleasantry and gaiety; they are loth to
be thought morose and authoritative, and therefore they adopt the manners of the
young.
Quite true, he said.
The last extreme of
popular liberty is when the slave bought with money, whether male or female, is
just as free as his or her purchaser; nor must I forget to tell of the liberty
and equality of the two sexes in relation to each other.
Why not, as Aeschylus
says, utter the word which rises to our lips?
That is what I am doing,
I replied; and I must add that no one who does not know would believe, how much
greater is the liberty which the animals who are under the dominion of man have
in a democracy than in any other State: for truly, the she-dogs, as the proverb
says, are as good as their she-mistresses, and the horses and asses have a way
of marching along with all the rights and dignities of freemen; and they will
run at anybody who comes in their way if he does not leave the road clear for
them: and all things are just ready to burst with liberty.
When I take a country
walk, he said, I often experience what you describe. You and I have dreamed the
same thing.
And above all, I said,
and as the result of all, see how sensitive the citizens become; they chafe
impatiently at the least touch of authority and at length, as you know, they
cease to care even for the laws, written or unwritten; they will have no one
over them.
Yes, he said, I know it
too well.
Such, my friend, I said,
is the fair and glorious beginning out of which springs tyranny.
Glorious indeed, he said.
But what is the next step?
The ruin of oligarchy is
the ruin of democracy; the same disease magnified and intensified by liberty
overmasters democracy --the truth being that the excessive increase of anything
often causes a reaction in the opposite direction; and this is the case not only
in the seasons and in vegetable and animal life, but above all in forms of
government.
True.
The excess of liberty,
whether in States or individuals, seems only to pass into excess of slavery.
Yes, the natural order.
And so tyranny naturally
arises out of democracy, and the most aggravated form of tyranny and slavery out
of the most extreme form of liberty?
As we might expect.
That, however, was not,
as I believe, your question-you rather desired to know what is that disorder
which is generated alike in oligarchy and democracy, and is the ruin of both?
Just so, he replied.
Well, I said, I meant to
refer to the class of idle spendthrifts, of whom the more courageous are
the-leaders and the more timid the followers, the same whom we were comparing to
drones, some stingless, and others having stings.
A very just comparison.
These two classes are the
plagues of every city in which they are generated, being what phlegm and bile
are to the body. And the good physician and lawgiver of the State ought, like
the wise bee-master, to keep them at a distance and prevent, if possible, their
ever coming in; and if they have anyhow found a way in, then he should have them
and their cells cut out as speedily as possible.
Yes, by all means, he
said.
Then, in order that we
may see clearly what we are doing, let us imagine democracy to be divided, as
indeed it is, into three classes; for in the first place freedom creates rather
more drones in the democratic than there were in the oligarchical State.
That is true.
And in the democracy they
are certainly more intensified.
How so?
Because in the
oligarchical State they are disqualified and driven from office, and therefore
they cannot train or gather strength; whereas in a democracy they are almost the
entire ruling power, and while the keener sort speak and act, the rest keep
buzzing about the bema and do not suffer a word to be said on the other side;
hence in democracies almost everything is managed by the drones.
Very true, he said.
Then there is another
class which is always being severed from the mass.
What is that?
They are the orderly
class, which in a nation of traders sure to be the richest.
Naturally so.
They are the most
squeezable persons and yield the largest amount of honey to the drones.
Why, he said, there is
little to be squeezed out of people who have little.
And this is called the
wealthy class, and the drones feed upon them.
That is pretty much the
case, he said.
The people are a third
class, consisting of those who work with their own hands; they are not
politicians, and have not much to live upon. This, when assembled, is the
largest and most powerful class in a democracy.
True, he said; but then
the multitude is seldom willing to congregate unless they get a little honey.
And do they not share? I
said. Do not their leaders deprive the rich of their estates and distribute them
among the people; at the same time taking care to reserve the larger part for
themselves?
Why, yes, he said, to
that extent the people do share.
And the persons whose
property is taken from them are compelled to defend themselves before the people
as they best can?
What else can they do?
And then, although they
may have no desire of change, the others charge them with plotting against the
people and being friends of oligarchy? True.
And the end is that when
they see the people, not of their own accord, but through ignorance, and because
they are deceived by informers, seeking to do them wrong, then at last they are
forced to become oligarchs in reality; they do not wish to be, but the sting of
the drones torments them and breeds revolution in them.
That is exactly the
truth.
Then come impeachments
and judgments and trials of one another.
True.
The people have always
some champion whom they set over them and nurse into greatness.
Yes, that is their way.
This and no other is the
root from which a tyrant springs; when he first appears above ground he is a
protector.
Yes, that is quite clear.
How then does a protector
begin to change into a tyrant? Clearly when he does what the man is said to do
in the tale of the Arcadian temple of Lycaean Zeus.
What tale?
The tale is that he who
has tasted the entrails of a single human victim minced up with the entrails of
other victims is destined to become a wolf. Did you never hear it?
Oh, yes.
And the protector of the
people is like him; having a mob entirely at his disposal, he is not restrained
from shedding the blood of kinsmen; by the favourite method of false accusation
he brings them into court and murders them, making the life of man to disappear,
and with unholy tongue and lips tasting the blood of his fellow citizen; some he
kills and others he banishes, at the same time hinting at the abolition of debts
and partition of lands: and after this, what will be his destiny? Must he not
either perish at the hands of his enemies, or from being a man become a wolf
--that is, a tyrant?
Inevitably.
This, I said, is he who
begins to make a party against the rich?
The same.
After a while he is
driven out, but comes back, in spite of his enemies, a tyrant full grown.
That is clear.
And if they are unable to
expel him, or to get him condemned to death by a public accusation, they
conspire to assassinate him.
Yes, he said, that is
their usual way.
Then comes the famous
request for a bodyguard, which is the device of all those who have got thus far
in their tyrannical career --'Let not the people's friend,' as they say, 'be
lost to them.'
Exactly.
The people readily
assent; all their fears are for him --they have none for themselves.
Very true.
And when a man who is
wealthy and is also accused of being an enemy of the people sees this, then, my
friend, as the oracle said to Croesus,
By pebbly Hermus' shore
he flees and rests not and is not ashamed to be a coward.
And quite right too, said
he, for if he were, he would never be ashamed again.
But if he is caught he
dies.
Of course.
And he, the protector of
whom we spoke, is to be seen, not 'larding the plain' with his bulk, but himself
the overthrower of many, standing up in the chariot of State with the reins in
his hand, no longer protector, but tyrant absolute.
No doubt, he said.
And now let us consider
the happiness of the man, and also of the State in which a creature like him is
generated.
Yes, he said, let us
consider that.
At first, in the early
days of his power, he is full of smiles, and he salutes every one whom he meets;
--he to be called a tyrant, who is making promises in public and also in
private! liberating debtors, and distributing land to the people and his
followers, and wanting to be so kind and good to every one!
Of course, he said.
But when he has disposed
of foreign enemies by conquest or treaty, and there is nothing to fear from
them, then he is always stirring up some war or other, in order that the people
may require a leader.
To be sure.
Has he not also another
object, which is that they may be impoverished by payment of taxes, and thus
compelled to devote themselves to their daily wants and therefore less likely to
conspire against him? Clearly.
And if any of them are
suspected by him of having notions of freedom, and of resistance to his
authority, he will have a good pretext for destroying them by placing them at
the mercy of the enemy; and for all these reasons the tyrant must be always
getting up a war.
He must.
Now he begins to grow
unpopular.
A necessary result.
Then some of those who
joined in setting him up, and who are in power, speak their minds to him and to
one another, and the more courageous of them cast in his teeth what is being
done.
Yes, that may be
expected.
And the tyrant, if he
means to rule, must get rid of them; he cannot stop while he has a friend or an
enemy who is good for anything.
He cannot.
And therefore he must
look about him and see who is valiant, who is high-minded, who is wise, who is
wealthy; happy man, he is the enemy of them all, and must seek occasion against
them whether he will or no, until he has made a purgation of the State.
Yes, he said, and a rare
purgation.
Yes, I said, not the sort
of purgation which the physicians make of the body; for they take away the worse
and leave the better part, but he does the reverse.
If he is to rule, I
suppose that he cannot help himself.
What a blessed
alternative, I said: --to be compelled to dwell only with the many bad, and to
be by them hated, or not to live at all!
Yes, that is the
alternative.
And the more detestable
his actions are to the citizens the more satellites and the greater devotion in
them will he require?
Certainly.
And who are the devoted
band, and where will he procure them?
They will flock to him,
he said, of their own accord, if lie pays them.
By the dog! I said, here
are more drones, of every sort and from every land.
Yes, he said, there are.
But will he not desire to
get them on the spot?
How do you mean?
He will rob the citizens
of their slaves; he will then set them free and enrol them in his bodyguard.
To be sure, he said; and
he will be able to trust them best of all.
What a blessed creature,
I said, must this tyrant be; he has put to death the others and has these for
his trusted friends.
Yes, he said; they are
quite of his sort.
Yes, I said, and these
are the new citizens whom he has called into existence, who admire him and are
his companions, while the good hate and avoid him.
Of course.
Verily, then, tragedy is
a wise thing and Euripides a great tragedian.
Why so?
Why, because he is the
author of the pregnant saying,
Tyrants are wise by
living with the wise; and he clearly meant to say that they are the wise whom
the tyrant makes his companions.
Yes, he said, and he also
praises tyranny as godlike; and many other things of the same kind are said by
him and by the other poets.
And therefore, I said,
the tragic poets being wise men will forgive us and any others who live after
our manner if we do not receive them into our State, because they are the
eulogists of tyranny.
Yes, he said, those who
have the wit will doubtless forgive us.
But they will continue to
go to other cities and attract mobs, and hire voices fair and loud and
persuasive, and draw the cities over to tyrannies and democracies.
Very true.
Moreover, they are paid
for this and receive honour --the greatest honour, as might be expected, from
tyrants, and the next greatest from democracies; but the higher they ascend our
constitution hill, the more their reputation fails, and seems unable from
shortness of breath to proceed further.
True.
But we are wandering from
the subject: Let us therefore return and enquire how the tyrant will maintain
that fair and numerous and various and ever-changing army of his.
If, he said, there are
sacred treasures in the city, he will confiscate and spend them; and in so far
as the fortunes of attainted persons may suffice, he will be able to diminish
the taxes which he would otherwise have to impose upon the people.
And when these fail?
Why, clearly, he said,
then he and his boon companions, whether male or female, will be maintained out
of his father's estate.
You mean to say that the
people, from whom he has derived his being, will maintain him and his
companions?
Yes, he said; they cannot
help themselves.
But what if the people
fly into a passion, and aver that a grown-up son ought not to be supported by
his father, but that the father should be supported by the son? The father did
not bring him into being, or settle him in life, in order that when his son
became a man he should himself be the servant of his own servants and should
support him and his rabble of slaves and companions; but that his son should
protect him, and that by his help he might be emancipated from the government of
the rich and aristocratic, as they are termed. And so he bids him and his
companions depart, just as any other father might drive out of the house a
riotous son and his undesirable associates.
By heaven, he said, then
the parent will discover what a monster he has been fostering in his bosom; and,
when he wants to drive him out, he will find that he is weak and his son strong.
Why, you do not mean to
say that the tyrant will use violence? What! beat his father if he opposes him?
Yes, he will, having
first disarmed him.
Then he is a parricide,
and a cruel guardian of an aged parent; and this is real tyranny, about which
there can be no longer a mistake: as the saying is, the people who would escape
the smoke which is the slavery of freemen, has fallen into the fire which is the
tyranny of slaves. Thus liberty, getting out of all order and reason, passes
into the harshest and bitterest form of slavery.
True, he said.
Very well; and may we not
rightly say that we have sufficiently discussed the nature of tyranny, and the
manner of the transition from democracy to tyranny?
Yes, quite enough, he
said.
Book
8: Four Forms of Government