Complete Works

by Plato, Cooper, John M. , Hutchinson, D. S.

  MEGILLUS: Exactly.

  ATHENIAN: So let’s have done with the Persians. Our conclusion is that the empire is badly run at the moment because the people are kept in undue subjection and the rulers excessively authoritarian.

  MEGILLUS: Precisely.

  ATHENIAN: Next we come to the political system of Attica. We have to demonstrate, on the same lines as before, that complete freedom from [b] all authority is infinitely worse than submitting to a moderate degree of control.

  At the time of the Persian attack on the Greeks—on virtually everyone living in Europe, is perhaps a better way of putting it—we Athenians had a constitution, inherited from the distant past, in which a number of public offices were held on the basis of four property-classes. Lady Modesty was the mistress of our hearts, a despot who made us live in willing subjection to the laws then in force. Moreover, the enormous size of the army that was coming at us by land and sea made us desperately afraid, and served [c] to increase our obedience to the authorities and the law. For all these reasons we displayed a tremendous spirit of co-operation. You see, about ten years before the battle of Salamis, Datis had arrived at the head of a Persian army; he had been sent by Darius against the Athenians and the Eretrians with explicit instructions to make slaves of them and bring them home, and he had been warned that failure would mean death. With his vast numbers of soldiers, Datis made short work of the Eretrians, whom [d] he completely overpowered and captured. He then sent to Athens a bloodcurdling report that not a single Eretrian had got away—propaganda which asked us to believe that Datis’ soldiers, hand in hand in a long line, had combed over every inch of Eretria. Well, whatever the truth or otherwise of this tale, it terrified the Greeks; the Athenians were particularly scared, and they sent off envoys in all directions, but no one was prepared to [e] help them except the Spartans—who were, however, prevented by the Messenian war, which was going on at that time, or perhaps by some other distraction (I’m not aware of any information being given on the point). However that may be, the Spartans arrived at Marathon one day too late for the battle. After this, reports of vast preparations and endless threats on the part of the king came thick and fast. The years went by, and then we were told that Darius was dead, but that his son, young and impetuous, had inherited the kingdom and was determined not to give up the invasion. The Athenians reckoned that all these preparations were directed against themselves, because of what had happened at Marathon; [699] and when they heard of the canal that had been dug through Athos, the bridging of the Hellespont and the huge number of Xerxes’ ships, they calculated that neither land nor sea offered any prospects of safety. No one, they thought, would come to help them. They remembered the previous attack and the success of the Persians in Eretria: no one had assisted [b] the Athenians then, no one had faced the danger by fighting at their side. On land they expected the same thing to happen this time; and as for the sea, they realized that escape by this route was out of the question, in view of the thousand or more ships coming to the attack. They could think of only one hope, and a thin, desperate hope it was; but there was simply no other. Their minds went back to the previous occasion, and they reflected how the victory they won in battle had been gained in equally desperate [c] circumstances. Sustained by this hope, they began to recognize that no one but they themselves and their gods could provide a way out of their difficulties. All this inspired them with a spirit of solidarity. One cause was the actual fear they felt at the time, but there was another kind too, encouraged by the traditional laws of the state. I mean the ‘fear’ they had learned to experience as a result of being subject to an ancient code of laws. In the course of our earlier discussion26 we have called this fear ‘modesty’ often enough, and we said that people who aspire to be good must be its slave. A coward, on the other hand, is free of this particular kind of fear and never experiences it. And if ‘ordinary’ fear had not overtaken the cowards on that occasion, they would never have combined to defend themselves or protected temples, tombs, fatherland, and friends and relatives [d] as well, in the way they did. We would all have been split up and scattered over the face of the earth.

  MEGILLUS: Yes, sir, you are quite right, and your remarks reflect credit both on your country and yourself.

  ATHENIAN: No doubt, Megillus; and it is only right and proper to tell you of the history of that period, seeing that you’ve been blessed with your ancestors’ character. Now then, you and Clinias, consider: have these remarks of ours any relevance at all to legislation? After all, this is the [e] object of the exercise—I’m not going through all this simply for the story. Look: in a way, we Athenians have had the same experience as the Persians. They, of course, reduced the people to a state of complete subjection, and we encouraged the masses to the opposite extreme of unfettered liberty, but the discussion we have had serves well enough as a pointer to the next step in the argument, and shows us the method to follow.

  [700] MEGILLUS: Splendid! But do try to be even more explicit about what you mean.

  ATHENIAN: Very well. When the old laws applied, my friends, the people were not in control: on the contrary, they lived in a kind of ‘voluntary slavery’ to the laws.

  MEGILLUS: Which laws have you in mind?

  ATHENIAN: I’m thinking primarily of the regulations about the music of that period (music being the proper place to start a description of how life became progressively freer of controls). In those days Athenian music comprised various categories and forms. One type of song consisted of [b] prayers to the gods, which were termed ‘hymns’; and there was another quite different type, which you might well have called ‘laments’. ‘Paeans’ made up a third category, and there was also a fourth, called a ‘dithyramb’ (whose theme was, I think, the birth of Dionysus). There existed another kind of song too, which they thought of as a separate class, and the name they gave it was this very word that is so often on our lips: ‘nomes’27 (‘for the lyre’, as they always added). Once these categories and a number of others had been fixed, no one was allowed to pervert them by using one sort of tune in a composition belonging to another category. And what was [c] the authority which had to know these standards and use its knowledge in reaching its verdicts, and crack down on the disobedient? Well, certainly no notice was taken of the catcalls and uncouth yelling of the audience, as it is nowadays, nor yet of the applause that indicates approval. People of taste and education made it a rule to listen to the performance with silent attention right through to the end; children and their attendants and the general public could always be disciplined and controlled by a stick. [d] Such was the rigor with which the mass of the people was prepared to be controlled in the theatre, and to refrain from passing judgment by shouting. Later, as time went on, composers arose who started to set a fashion of breaking the rules and offending good taste. They did have a natural artistic talent, but they were ignorant of the correct and legitimate standards laid down by the Muse. Gripped by a frenzied and excessive lust for pleasure, they jumbled together laments and hymns, mixed paeans and dithyrambs, and even imitated pipe tunes on the lyre. The result was a total confusion of styles. Unintentionally, in their idiotic way, they [e] misrepresented their art, claiming that in music there are no standards of right and wrong at all, but that the most ‘correct’ criterion is the pleasure of a man who enjoyed the performance, whether he is a good man or not. On these principles they based their compositions, and they accompanied them with propaganda to the same effect. Consequently they gave the ordinary man not only a taste for breaking the laws of music but the arrogance to set himself up as a capable judge. The audiences, once silent, [701] began to use their tongues; they claimed to know what was good and bad in music, and instead of a ‘musical meritocracy’, a sort of vicious ‘theatrocracy’ arose. But if this democracy had been limited to gentlemen and had applied only to music, no great harm would have been done; in the event, however, music proved to be the starting point of everyone’s conviction that he was an authority on everything, a
nd of a general disregard for the law. Complete license was not far behind. The conviction [b] that they knew made them unafraid, and assurance engendered effrontery. You see, a reckless lack of respect for one’s betters is effrontery of peculiar viciousness, which springs from a freedom from inhibitions that has gone much too far.

  MEGILLUS: You’re absolutely right.

  ATHENIAN: This freedom will then take other forms. First people grow unwilling to submit to the authorities, then they refuse to obey the admonitions of their fathers and mothers and elders. As they hurtle along towards the end of this primrose path, they try to escape the authority of the laws; [c] and the very end of the road comes when they cease to care about oaths and promises and religion in general. They reveal, reincarnated in themselves, the character of the ancient Titans28 of the story, and thanks to getting into the same position as the Titans did, they live a wretched life of endless misery. Again I ask: what’s the purpose of saying all this? My tongue has been galloping on and obviously I ought to curb it constantly; I must keep a bridle in my mouth and not let myself be carried away by [d] the argument so as to ‘take a toss from the hoss’, as the saying is. Let me repeat the question: what’s the point of this speech I’ve made?

  MEGILLUS: Well asked!

  ATHENIAN: The point is one we’ve made before.

  MEGILLUS: What?

  ATHENIAN: We said29 that a lawgiver should frame his code with an eye on three things: the freedom, unity and wisdom of the city for which he legislates. That’s right, isn’t it?

  MEGILLUS: Certainly.

  [e] ATHENIAN: That was why we selected two political systems, one authoritarian in the highest degree, the other representing an extreme of liberty; and the question is now, which of these two constitutes correct government? We reviewed a moderate authoritarianism and a moderate freedom, and saw the result: tremendous progress in each case. But when either the Persians or the Athenians pushed things to extremes (of subjection in the one case and its opposite in the other), it did neither of them any good at all.

  [702] MEGILLUS: You’re quite right.

  ATHENIAN: We had precisely the same purpose when we looked at the settlement of the Dorian forces, Dardanus’ dwellings in the foothills, the foundation by the sea, and the original survivors of the flood; earlier, we discussed music and drink from the same point of view, as well as other topics before that. The object was always to find out what would be the [b] ideal way of administering a state, and the best principles the individual can observe in running his own life. But has it been worth our while? I wonder, Clinias and Megillus, if there’s some test of this that we could set ourselves?

  CLINIAS: I think I can see one, sir. As luck would have it, I find that all the subjects we have discussed in our conversation are relevant to my needs here and now. How fortunate that I’ve fallen in with you and [b] Megillus! I won’t keep you in the dark about my position—indeed, I think that meeting you is a good omen for the future. The greater part of Crete is attempting to found a colony, and has given responsibility for the job to the Cnossians; and the state of Cnossus has delegated it to myself and nine colleagues. Our brief is to compose a legal code on the basis of such local laws as we find satisfactory, and to use foreign laws as well—the fact that they are not Cretan must not count against them, provided their quality seems superior. So what about doing me—and you—a favor? Let’s [d] take a selection of the topics we have covered and construct an imaginary community, pretending that we are its original founders. That will allow us to consider the question before us, and it may be that I’ll use this framework for the future state.

  ATHENIAN: Well, Clinias, that’s certainly welcome news! You may take it that I for my part am entirely at your disposal, unless Megillus has some objection.

  CLINIAS: Splendid!

  MEGILLUS: Yes, I too am at your service.

  CLINIAS: I’m delighted you both agree. Now then, let’s try—initially only [e] in theory—to found our state.

  1. Epimenides’ ‘magic brew’ was believed to have been inspired by Hesiod’s mention (Works and Days 40-41) of the virtue of mallow and asphodel. For Epimenides, see 642d ff. and note.

  2. A ‘cycle’ is apparently thought of as the interval between one cosmic upheaval (e.g. the flood) and the next.

  3. Odyssey ix.112–15.

  4. Iliad xx.216–18. ‘He’ is Dardanus; Ilium is Troy.

  5. At 636e ff.

  6. The four are: (1) single families under autocratic rule, (2) collections of families under aristocratic rule, (3) the cities of the plains (e.g. Troy) with various constitutions, (4) a league of such cities, now to be discussed.

  7. For the first capture, see Iliad v.640.

  8. Agamemnon and Menelaus, who led the expedition against Troy.

  9. Hippolytus’ stepmother Phaedra falsely accused him of sexual misconduct towards herself; Theseus, her husband, prayed for the death of his son. The prayer was granted, but then Theseus discovered Hippolytus’ innocence.

  10. 625d ff.

  11. The Athenian alludes to a few lines of a poem now largely lost (frg. 109 Snell): cf. 714e and 890a.

  12. Works and Days 40.

  13. Procles and Eurysthenes, the first kings of Sparta, were the twin sons of Aristodemus.

  14. Lycurgus, who created the Spartan Council of Elders.

  15. The expression ‘third savior’ is proverbial, and refers to the custom of offering Zeus the Savior the third libation at banquets. Plato probably means Theopompus, a king of Sparta in the eighth century.

  16. Five annually elected officials who in addition to wide executive and judicial powers exercised close control over the conduct of the kings.

  17. I.e., Sparta: see 683c ff. and 684e ff.

  18. See 684a.

  19. Messene. Cf. 698c–e.

  20. Cambyses, son of Cyrus, was King of Persia from 529 to 521. ‘Disaster’ refers to the military failures of his reign, his tyrannical madness, and the short-lived seizure of his throne by Gomates (see 695b and note). Cambyses was succeeded by Darius (521-486), who followed the prudent policies described in 695c–d. See Herodotus, III, 61 ff.

  21. I.e., an education of extreme luxury.

  22. Gomates impersonated Cambyses’ dead brother in order to seize the kingdom.

  23. 624a ff. and 691d ff.

  24. 689d ff.

  25. Cf. 631e ff.

  26. At 647a, 671d.

  27. The Greek word is nomoi, which also means ‘laws’. Cf. 722d, 775b, 799e.

  28. Children of Heaven and Earth, long-standing enemies ultimately overthrown by the Olympian gods.

  29. See 693b.

  Book IV

  ATHENIAN: Well, now, how should we describe our future state? I don’t [704] mean just its name: I’m not asking what it’s called now, nor what it ought to be called in the future. (This might well be suggested by some detail of the actual foundation or by some spot nearby: perhaps a river or spring or some local gods will give the new state their own style and title.) This [b] is my real question: is it to be on the coast, or inland?

  CLINIAS: The state I was talking about a moment ago, sir, is approximately eighty stades1 from the sea.

  ATHENIAN: Well, what about harbors? Are there any along the coast on that side of the state, or are they entirely absent?

  CLINIAS: No, sir. The state has harbors in that direction which could hardly be bettered.

  ATHENIAN: A pity, that. What about the surrounding countryside? Does [c] it grow everything or are there some deficiencies?

  CLINIAS: No, it grows practically everything.

  ATHENIAN: Will it have some nearby state for a neighbor?

  CLINIAS: Absolutely none—that’s just why it’s being founded. Ages ago, there was a migration from the district, which has left the land deserted for goodness knows how long.

  ATHENIAN: What about plains and mountains and forests? How is it off for each of these?

  [d] CLINIAS: Very much like the rest of Crete in gene
ral.

  ATHENIAN: Rugged rather than flat, you mean?

  CLINIAS: Yes, that’s right.

  ATHENIAN: Then the state will have tolerably healthy prospects of becoming virtuous. If it were going to be founded near the sea and have good harbors, and were deficient in a great number of crops instead of growing everything itself, then a very great savior indeed and lawgivers of divine stature would be needed to stop sophisticated and vicious characters developing on a grand scale: such a state would simply invite it. As it is, we can take comfort in those eighty stades. Even so, it lies nearer the sea than it should, and you say that it is rather well off for harbors, which makes [705] matters worse; but let’s be thankful for small mercies. For a country to have the sea nearby is pleasant enough for the purpose of everyday life, but in fact it is a ‘salty-sharp and bitter neighbor’2 in more senses than one. It fills the land with wholesaling and retailing, breeds shifty and deceitful habits in a man’s soul, and makes the citizens distrustful and hostile, not only among themselves, but also in their dealings with the world outside. Still, the fact that the land produces everything will be [b] some consolation for these disadvantages, and it is obvious in any case that even if it does grow every crop, its ruggedness will stop it doing so in any quantity; if it yielded a surplus that could be exported in bulk, the state would be swamped with the gold and silver money it received in return—and this, if a state means to develop just and noble habits, is pretty nearly the worst thing that could happen to it, all things considered (as we said, if we remember, earlier in our discussion).

  CLINIAS: Of course we remember, and we agree that our argument then was right, and still is now.

  [c] ATHENIAN: The next point is this: how well is the surrounding district supplied with timber for building ships?