Correct.
And they’ll put officers in charge of them whose age and experience qualifies them to be leaders and tutors?
Appropriately so.
But, as we say, the unexpected often occurs.
Indeed.
With this in mind, we must provide the children with wings when they’re small, so that they can fly away and escape.
What do you mean? [e]
We must mount them on horses as early as possible—not on spirited or aggressive horses, but on very fast and manageable ones—and when they’ve learned to ride, they must be taken to observe a war. In this way, they’ll get the best look at their own work and, if the need arises, make the securest possible escape to safety, following their older guides.
I think you’re right.
What about warfare itself? What attitude should your soldiers have to [468] each other and to the enemy? Are my views about this right or not?
First, tell me what they are.
If one of them leaves his post or throws away his shield or does anything else of that sort through cowardice, shouldn’t he be reduced to being a craftsman or farmer?
Certainly.
And shouldn’t anyone who is captured alive be left to his captors as a gift to do with as they wish?
Absolutely. [b]
But don’t you think that anyone who distinguishes himself and earns high esteem should, while still on the campaign, first be crowned with wreaths by each of the adolescents and children who accompany the expedition?
I do.
And what about shaken by the right hand?
That too.
But I suppose that you wouldn’t go this far?
Namely?
That he should kiss and be kissed by each of them.
That most of all. And I’d add this to the law: As long as the campaign lasts, no one he wants to kiss shall be allowed to refuse, for then, if one of them happens to be in love with another, whether male or female, he’ll [c] be all the more eager to win the rewards of valor.
Excellent. And we’ve already stated that, since he’s a good person, more marriages will be available to him, and he’ll be selected for such things more frequently than the others, so that he’ll beget as many children as possible.
Yes, we did say that.
Indeed, according to Homer too, it is just to honor in such ways those young people who are good, for he says that Ajax, when he distinguished himself in battle, “was rewarded with the long cut off the backbone.” And [d] that’s an appropriate honor for a courageous young man, since it will both honor him and increase his strength.
That’s absolutely right.
Then we’ll follow Homer in these matters at least. And insofar as good people have shown themselves to be good, we’ll honor them at sacrifices and all such occasions with hymns, “seats of honor, meats, and well-filled cups of wine,”12 and in all the other ways we mentioned, so that, in addition [e] to honoring good men and women, we’ll continue to train them.
That’s excellent.
All right. And as for those who died on the campaign, won’t we say, first of all, that, if their deaths were distinguished, they belong to the golden race?
That above all.
And won’t we believe with Hesiod that, whenever any of that race die, they become
[469] Sacred daemons living upon the earth,
Noble spirits, protectors against evil, guardians of articulate mortals?13
We’ll certainly believe that.
Then we’ll inquire from the god14 what kind of distinguished funeral we should give to daemonic and godlike people, and we’ll follow his instructions. Of course.
And for the remainder of time, we’ll care for their graves and worship at them as we would at those of daemons. And we’ll follow the same rites [b] for anyone whom we judge to have lived an outstandingly good life, whether he died of old age or in some other way.
That is only just.
Now, what about enemies? How will our soldiers deal with them?
In what respect?
First, enslavement. Do you think it is just for Greeks to enslave Greek cities, or, as far as they can, should they not even allow other cities to do so, and make a habit of sparing the Greek race, as a precaution against [c] being enslaved by the barbarians?
It’s altogether and in every way best to spare the Greek race.
Then isn’t it also best for the guardians not to acquire a Greek slave and to advise the other Greeks not to do so either?
Absolutely. In that way they’d be more likely to turn against the barbarians and keep their hands off one another.
What about despoiling the dead? Is it a good thing to strip the dead of anything besides their armor after a victory? Or don’t cowards make this [d] an excuse for not facing the enemy—as if they were doing something of vital importance in bending over a corpse? And haven’t many armies been lost because of such plundering?
Indeed, they have.
Don’t you think it’s slavish and money-loving to strip a corpse? Isn’t it small-minded and womanish to regard the body as your enemy, when the enemy himself has flitted away, leaving behind only the instrument with which he fought? Or do you think such behavior any different from that of dogs who get angry with the stone that hits them and leave the [e] thrower alone?
It’s no different at all.
Then may our soldiers strip corpses or refuse the enemy permission to pick up their dead?
No, by god, they certainly may not.
Moreover, we won’t take enemy arms to the temples as offerings, and if we care about the goodwill of other Greeks, we especially won’t do this with their arms. Rather we’d be afraid of polluting the temples if we [470] brought them such things from our own people, unless, of course, the god tells us otherwise.
That’s absolutely right.
What about ravaging the land of the Greeks and burning their houses? Will your soldiers do things of this sort to their enemies?
I’d like to hear your opinion about that.
Well, I think they should do neither of these things but destroy the year’s harvest only. Do you want me to tell you why? [b]
Of course.
It seems to me that as we have two names, “war” and “civil war,” so there are two things and the names apply to two kinds of disagreements arising in them. The two things I’m referring to are what is one’s own and akin, on the one hand, and what’s foreign and strange, on the other. The name “civil war” applies to hostilities with one’s own, while “war” applies to hostilities with strangers.
That’s certainly to the point.
Then see whether this is also to the point: I say that the Greek race is its own and akin, but is strange and foreign to barbarians. [c]
That’s right.
Then when Greeks do battle with barbarians or barbarians with Greeks, we’ll say that they’re natural enemies and that such hostilities are to be called war. But when Greeks fight with Greeks, we’ll say that they are natural friends and that in such circumstances Greece is sick and divided into factions and that such hostilities are to be called civil war. [d]
I, at any rate, agree to think of it that way.
Now, notice that, wherever something of the sort that’s currently called civil war occurs and a city is divided, if either party ravages the land of the others and burns their houses, it’s thought that this is abominable and that neither party loves their city, since otherwise they’d never have ravaged their very nurse and mother. However, it is thought appropriate for the victors to carry off the harvest of the vanquished. Nonetheless, their attitude of mind should be that of people who’ll one day be reconciled [e] and who won’t always be at war.
This way of thinking is far more civilized than the other.
What about the city you’re founding? It is Greek, isn’t it?
It has to be.
Then, won’t your citizens be good and civilized?
Indeed they will.
Then
, won’t they love Greece? Won’t they consider Greece as their own and share the religion of the other Greeks?
Yes, indeed.
Then won’t they consider their differences with Greeks—people who [471] are their own—not as war but as civil war?
Of course.
And won’t they quarrel like people who know that one day they’ll be reconciled?
Certainly.
Then they’ll moderate their foes in a friendly spirit, not punish them with enslavement and destruction, for they’re moderators, not enemies.
That’s right.
And being Greeks, they won’t ravage Greece or burn her houses, nor will they agree that in any of her cities all the inhabitants—men, women, and children—are their enemies, but that whatever differences arise are caused by the few enemies that any city inevitably contains. Because of this, because the majority are friendly, they won’t ravage the country or [b] destroy the houses, and they’ll continue their quarrel only to the point at which those who caused it are forced to pay the penalty by those who were its innocent victims.
I agree that this is the way our citizens must treat their enemies, and they must treat barbarians the way Greeks currently treat each other.
Then shall we also impose this law on the guardians: Neither ravage [c] the country nor burn the houses?
Consider it imposed. And let’s also assume that this law and its predecessors are all fine. But I think, Socrates, that if we let you go on speaking about this subject, you’ll never remember the one you set aside in order to say all this, namely, whether it’s possible for this constitution to come into being and in what way it could be brought about. I agree that, if it existed, all the things we’ve mentioned would be good for the city in which they occurred. And I’ll add some that you’ve left out. The guardians would be excellent fighters against an enemy because they’d be least likely to desert each other, since they know each other as brothers, fathers, and [d] sons, and call each other by those names. Moreover, if their women joined their campaigns, either in the same ranks or positioned in the rear to frighten the enemy and in case their help should ever be needed, I know that this would make them quite unbeatable. And I also see all the good things that they’d have at home that you’ve omitted. Take it that I agree [e] that all these things would happen, as well as innumerable others, if this kind of constitution came into being, and say no more on that subject. But rather let’s now try to convince ourselves that it is possible and how it is possible, and let the rest go.
This is a sudden attack that you’ve made on my argument, and you [472] show no sympathy for my delay. Perhaps you don’t realize that, just as I’ve barely escaped from the first two waves of objections, you’re bringing the third—the biggest and most difficult one—down upon me. When you see and hear it, you’ll surely be completely sympathetic, and recognize that it was, after all, appropriate for me to hesitate and be afraid to state and look into so paradoxical a view.
The more you speak like that, the less we’ll let you off from telling us how it’s possible for this constitution to come into being. So speak instead of wasting time. [b]
Well, then, we must first remember that we got to this point while trying to discover what justice and injustice are like.
We must. But what of it?
Nothing. But if we discover what justice is like, will we also maintain that the just man is in no way different from the just itself, so that he is like justice in every respect? Or will we be satisfied if he comes as close to it as possible and participates in it far more than anyone else? [c]
We’ll be satisfied with that.
Then it was in order to have a model that we were trying to discover what justice itself is like and what the completely just man would be like, if he came into being, and what kind of man he’d be if he did, and likewise with regard to injustice and the most unjust man. We thought that, by looking at how their relationship to happiness and its opposite seemed to us, we’d also be compelled to agree about ourselves as well, that the one who was most like them would have a portion of happiness most like theirs. But we weren’t trying to discover these things in order to prove [d] that it’s possible for them to come into being.
That’s true.
Do you think that someone is a worse painter if, having painted a model of what the finest and most beautiful human being would be like and having rendered every detail of his picture adequately, he could not prove that such a man could come into being?
No, by god, I don’t.
Then what about our own case? Didn’t we say that we were making a theoretical model of a good city?15 [e]
Certainly.
So do you think that our discussion will be any less reasonable if we can’t prove that it’s possible to found a city that’s the same as the one in our theory?
Not at all.
Then that’s the truth of the matter. But if, in order to please you, I must also be willing to show how and under what conditions it would most be possible to found such a city, then you should agree to make the same concessions to me, in turn, for the purposes of this demonstration.
Which ones?
Is it possible to do anything in practice the same as in theory? Or is it in the nature of practice to grasp truth less well than theory does, even if [473] some people don’t think so? Will you first agree to this or not?
I agree.
Then don’t compel me to show that what we’ve described in theory can come into being exactly as we’ve described it. Rather, if we’re able to discover how a city could come to be governed in a way that most closely approximates our description, let’s say that we’ve shown what you ordered us to show, namely, that it’s possible for our city to come to be. Or wouldn’t [b] you be satisfied with that? I would be satisfied with it.
So would I.
Then next, it seems, we should try to discover and point out what’s now badly done in cities that keeps them from being governed in that way and what’s the smallest change that would enable our city to reach our sort of constitution—one change, if possible, or if not one, two, and if not two, then the fewest in number and the least extensive.
[c] That’s absolutely right.
There is one change we could point to that, in my opinion, would accomplish this. It’s certainly neither small nor easy, but it is possible.
What is it?
Well, I’ve now come to what we likened to the greatest wave. But I shall say what I have to say, even if the wave is a wave of laughter that will simply drown me in ridicule and contempt. So listen to what I’m going to say.
Say on.
Until philosophers rule as kings or those who are now called kings and leading men genuinely and adequately philosophize, that is, until political [d] power and philosophy entirely coincide, while the many natures who at present pursue either one exclusively are forcibly prevented from doing so, cities will have no rest from evils, Glaucon, nor, I think, will the human race. And, until this happens, the constitution we’ve been describing in [e] theory will never be born to the fullest extent possible or see the light of the sun. It’s because I saw how very paradoxical this statement would be that I hesitated to make it for so long, for it’s hard to face up to the fact that there can be no happiness, either public or private, in any other city.
Socrates, after hurling a speech and statement like that at us, you must expect that a great many people (and not undistinguished ones either) will cast off their cloaks and, stripped for action, snatch any available [474] weapon, and make a determined rush at you, ready to do terrible things. So, unless you can hold them off by argument and escape, you really will pay the penalty of general derision.
Well, you are the one that brought this on me.
And I was right to do it. However, I won’t betray you, but rather defend you in any way I can—by goodwill, by urging you on, and perhaps by being able to give you more appropriate answers than someone else. So, with the promise of this assistance, try
to show the unbelievers that things are as you say they are. [b]
I must try it, then, especially since you agree to be so great an ally. If we’re to escape from the people you mention, I think we need to define for them who the philosophers are that we dare to say must rule. And once that’s clear, we should be able to defend ourselves by showing that the people we mean are fitted by nature both to engage in philosophy and to rule in a city, while the rest are naturally fitted to leave philosophy [c] alone and follow their leader.
This would be a good time to give that definition.
Come, then, follow me, and we’ll see whether or not there’s some way to set it out adequately.
Lead on.
Do you need to be reminded or do you remember that, if it’s rightly said that someone loves something, then he mustn’t love one part of it and not another, but he must love all of it?16
I think you’ll have to remind me, for I don’t understand it at all. [d]
That would be an appropriate response, Glaucon, for somebody else to make. But it isn’t appropriate for an erotically inclined man to forget that all boys in the bloom of youth pique the interest of a lover of boys and arouse him and that all seem worthy of his care and pleasure. Or isn’t that the way you people behave to fine and beautiful boys? You praise a snub-nosed one as cute, a hook-nosed one you say is regal, one in between is well proportioned, dark ones look manly, and pale ones are children of the gods. And as for a honey-colored boy, do you think that this very term [e] is anything but the euphemistic coinage of a lover who found it easy to tolerate sallowness, provided it was accompanied by the bloom of youth? In a word, you find all kinds of terms and excuses so as not to reject [475] anyone whose flower is in bloom.
If you insist on taking me as your example of what erotically inclined men do, then, for the sake of the argument, I agree.
Further, don’t you see wine-lovers behave in the same way? Don’t they love every kind of wine and find any excuse to enjoy it?
Certainly.
And I think you see honor-lovers, if they can’t be generals, be captains, and, if they can’t be honored by people of importance and dignity, they put up with being honored by insignificant and inferior ones, for they desire the whole of honor. [b]
Complete Works Page 167
