For Love of Democracy: Eros, Reverence, and Ritual in Plato’s Laws (Part II)
The Preludes of the Gods: Thumos and Eros
To inquire about the relationship between reason and reverence, the Athenian Stranger’s account of human failing should be examined. Right before the Athenian Stranger speaks about education in Book Seven and Eight, he refers to the three desires within the human psyche that motivates actions: the need of food, drink, and sex (782d11-783b2). If these three desires are guided correctly, then virtue will result; otherwise, human nature will degenerate into vice. Continually directing these human longings towards what is best and away from what is worst, the legislator hopes that virtuous citizens will arise in his regime by the means of fear, law, and true reason. The correspondence between desire and virtue is so critical to the education of the legislator’s citizens that it must begin before the birth of the child: pregnant women must engage in certain exercises so their children will have correctly ordered desires when born (783d10-785b10). This arbitrary nature of desire, its ability to attach itself either to virtue or vice, would seem to undermine the claim that convention or nature could be the ground for virtue.
This suspicion is confirmed when we look at the Athenian Stranger’s previous remarks. According to the Athenian Stranger, people once had refrained from tasting cattle but now they do not; and animals and plants that once had a specific form have changed in order to adjust to the shifts in their climate (782c1-782d2; 782a7-782b7). Convention and nature therefore is malleable. Given this consideration, the Athenian Stranger seems to reject both nature and convention as ontological ground to order the cosmos; consequently, philosophy becomes a deficient epistemological mode to understand the whole of reality since philosophy seeks to understand nature not revelation. Confronted with this situation, the Athenian Stanger can either abandon an ontological ground for politics or he can accept another ground in which to root politics (i.e., the divine). In either case, philosophy alone cannot lead to knowledge of the whole.
This limitation of philosophy as the endeavor of reason is best revealed in the Athenian Stranger’s defense of the gods against the young atheist in Book Ten. Described as one who scorns the sacred things of the polis and desecrates private tombs and lots, one who defiles his parents, uses things without the owners’ permission, and ignores the political rights of his fellow citizens (884a7-885a9), the young atheist acts not out of willful defiance against the polis but out of an ignorance that stems from the beliefs that the gods do not exist, do not care about human beings, and can be bribed with sacrifices and prayers (885b6-12). The cure of this condition is the use of persuasion by someone who know better about the nature of the gods than someone who can speak better about them (885e3-6).
The Athenian Stranger’s insistence of someone who know better about the nature of the gods in spite of his or her lesser abilities as a rhetorician is to prevent the arguments about the gods between the atheist and the believer from collapsing into eristics. The exchange of rhetorical and rational arguments, even if arguments for the existence of the gods are superior, will not convince the atheist. As a result, there must exist other modes of communication that transcend logos, whether they be preludes, myths, or the mere presence of someone who invokes moral authority though lacking the finesse of oratory. A discussion about the gods with someone whose presence commands respect may prompt the atheist out of his ignorance like a flame that is kindled in one soul and leaps into another.[13]
Kleinias, however, does not recognize the limitations of logos as he provides a rational defense for the divine’s existence by observing that both barbarians and Greeks acknowledge the gods’ existence when they observe the beautiful orderliness of the cosmos (886a1-4). By appealing to the inherent order in the cosmos, Kleinias’ defense of the gods is rooted in reason, to which the Athenian Stranger refutes, equally, on rational grounds (886d8-886e2). Although Kleinias does not completely understand the refutation of his argument (886e3-5), he vigorously consents to the Athenian Stranger’s proposal that they, as representatives of the polis, should defend it against the young atheist in an imagined courtroom (886e6-887a9. The length of prelude’s law does not concern Kleinias since “it makes no small difference” whether the gods are just or noble (887b1-887c5; also, refer to 890e4-891a9). Unfortunately, Kleinias’ thumos (spiritedness) prevents a philosophical account of the gods; the passionate nature of his piety reverts him back to religious dogma instead of dialectical inquiry (887c7-887d2). The Athenian Stranger therefore must first subdue Kleinias’ pious thumos by the means of preludes, not of philosophy, in order to investigate the nature of the gods (888a7-11).
According to Pangle, thumos differs from eros in that the former is a love of something as one’s own while the latter is a love of something that makes us forget who we are.[14] The Athenian Stranger assuages Kleinias’ thumos not only because he mistakes the gods as deities of a particular polis, but he has forgotten that the gods do not exist for men but that men are like puppets who exist for the gods (643c-d; 644d8-645b16). Although it is difficult to parse out the relationship between eros and thumos (717d; 782e-783b), the legislator must cultivate eros correctly so that a person can forget him or herself in virtue instead of debauchery (733e-734b; 782e-783b). Recognizing that Kleinias’ religious zeal to defend the gods stems not out of eros but thumos, the Athenian Stranger refrains from presenting a proof of the gods’ existence because logos by itself cannot transform Kleinias’ thumos into eros: prayer (887c6-8) and prelude are required (887e7-888a10).
This psychological condition of thumos is one which a person cannot acknowledge that he or she is subordinate to and part of a greater whole in reality. The refusal to participate in civic ritual, as in the case of the young atheist’s case, or the belief that the gods exist only for a certain polis, as in the case of Kleinias, is rooted in his psychological condition of thumos, a withdrawal in one sphere of privacy and self-importance (887c6-888a3). To remedy this malaise, the Athenian Stranger addresses the youth not in logos (argumentation) but in prooimion (prelude) to avoid eristics (885a6-888d6) since thumos only can be subdued by extra-ordinary rational means.
The prelude opens with an appeal to the authority of experience of one who has watched the young alter their opinions frequently about the greatest of things: the correct thoughts about the gods and how to lead a noble life (888a11-888c2). Given his experience in these matters, the young atheist does not strike the Athenian Stranger as a novelty, especially since no one in his youth who once held these opinions about the gods continue to hold them in his old age. The young atheist therefore should hold his tongue and do nothing impious until the Athenian Stranger and others (e.g., the legislator) are able to make the doctrine about these matters clear as they can: the gods exist, they care about human beings, and they cannot be bribed (888c3-888d5).
At a first glance, the Athenian Stranger’s prelude about the gods hardly strikes one as convincing; however, this perceived deficiency misses the point of the prelude: the taming of the young atheist’s thumos. The use of the preludes, after all, is to persuade the citizen to be in a frame of mind that is more favorably disposed to the law and therefore learn something from it (723a6-723b3). Unlike the tyrannical doctor who treats his patients without their input, the legislator should be like the physician who treat free men by listening to his patients and in turn explain to them what is wrong with them (720b8-720e6; 722e10-723a5). It would seem that preludes are an alloy of reason, as articulated in logos, and imagination, as expressed in muthos. Preludes therefore do not appeal strictly to the rational aspect of human nature but to its thumotic part (717d, 789d-790a, 863b). When compared to the criteria of rationality, the prelude falls short of the mark; but, when compared to the criteria of soothing the atheist’s thumos, then the prelude is an appropriate means to achieve this goal.
By listing the itinerary of symptoms, the atheist suffers (884a7-885a9), the Athenian Stranger’s strategy to appease the atheist’s thumos makes sense. The atheist defies his parents, the polis, and the gods because his thumos demands that these entities reciprocate his love for them; but such a reciprocation is impossible because of the inherent inequalities between child and parent, citizen and polis, and human and divine.[15] Instead of thumos, the atheist should participate with his superiors–be it family, polis, or the divine–in eros, an acknowledgment of something that is greater than oneself and consequently should forget oneself in this acknowledgment(s). At the core of thumos is an appreciation of oneself that can be inappropriate when reciprocation is demanded form one’s superiors.
The Athenian Stranger’s prelude subdues the atheist’s thumos by gently reminding the young atheist of his place in the polis: the novelty of his views is only novel to him but not to the polis as a whole. In recognizing that his views are not new, the Athenian Stranger’s prelude cajoles the atheist out of his deluded sense of self-importance, his misguided thumos. The prelude’s claim that the atheist’s beliefs are not new and actually are part of a tradition that is greater than himself is an attempt to prompt him out of his sphere of self-importance–to acknowledge that he is merely part of a larger whole, even if that whole is tradition of heretical beliefs. The young atheist is further compelled to acknowledge his particularity when the Athenian Stranger commands him not to do anything impious until he has heard arguments against atheism. Presumably, this prohibition against impiety would translate into the atheist partaking in ritual and other conventions of the polis. By participating and therefore relying upon other individuals, the young atheist’s incapacity for eros is remedied as much as gentle persuasion allows. Preludes, thus, are the didactic devices to subdue thumos and to encourage eros within the citizen due to the limitations of logos. For logos not to disintegrate into eristics, a person’s thumos must be assuaged so as to open up his or her capacity for eros.
Whereas the prelude seeks to soothe the atheist’s thumos, the Athenian Stranger’s logos is the rational defense of the divine against the atheist’s claims about the gods. According to the “wise men”, all of things in the cosmos come into being either by nature, chance, or art (888e4-889a2). At its core, the cosmos is composed of things (i.e., fire, water, earth, and air) that are generated either by nature or by chance; and, from these first things arises the planets and the stars, beings which lack a soul, who in turn, give rise to the rest of the things in the cosmos (e.g., plants, animals) as determined by necessity. Compared to nature and chance, then, the practice of art appears much later and does not partake greatly with the truth, though some art does contain truth by having some things in common with nature. For example, political art possesses truth albeit it is only a minute portion of truth. All incorrect political legislation therefore is rooted in art and not in nature (888e8-889a1; 898b1-898e2).
In the voice of the wise men, the Athenian Stranger makes the distinction between nature, chance, and art using the criteria of time: nature and chance produces the greatest and finest things because they come first and art produces the lesser things because it comes last (889a4-8). From these remarks, it would seem that nature is restored as a possible foundation upon which to order the polis. The case for the ontological foundation of nature is further bolstered when the Athenian Stranger argues that the cause of the young’s impiety is their failure to recognize that what is just corresponds to what is by nature and what is unjust corresponds to what is by convention (889e4-890a13).[16] But instead of defining nature, the Athenian Stranger establishes the principle of causality as equated with a priority in time (891c1-891d5).[17] This equation of temporality and causality is the introduction of philosophy into the regime as Kleinias consents to the Athenian Stranger’s prospect that is may be necessary to go outside the realm of legislation to handle the arguments of the atheist (891d9-891e6). It is not revelation, therefore, but philosophy which will come to the defense of the gods in the Athenian Stranger’s refutation of the impious youths.
The chief flaw of the atheist’s beliefs stems from a confusion of the priority of time (causality) with respect to the soul and to the body: the atheist believes that the body precedes the soul in time and in generation where in actuality the soul precedes the body (891e6-891e13; 892a7-892b2). The underlying cause of the atheist’s confusion is the erroneous premise that nature is equivalent to the act of generation (892c2-3). If this premise is faulty, then it follows that the soul is not nature itself but is generated only by nature since it appears among the first things in the universe (892c3-8; 892a2-7). Since the soul is generated by nature, it is prior to the first things in the cosmos (i.e., fire, water, earth, and air) which come into being by nature or by chance (889b1-889b5). However, the actions associated with the soul–the first and great actions of the first things–are actions of art and intelligence instead of actions of nature or chance (892b4-892c1).
From these statements, then, we can draw the tentative conclusions that nature is neither the soul nor eternally (or temporarily) generating being; and out of nature arises the soul which governs the cosmos by art and intelligence (891c1-6). The relationship between the actions of the soul (art and intelligence) and the first material realities (i.e., fire, water, earth, and air) is ambiguous and remains so; but it appears that the soul, either by nature, chance, or art with intelligence engenders the stars and the planets, being without soul, which are composed of these first materials. Finally, in partnership with necessity, the soul also creates out of these the rest of the things in the material temporal world.[18]
Instead of delving into what constitutes nature of the soul, the Athenian Stranger at this point restricts his defense of the gods to a demonstration that the inception of the soul is prior to the inception of the body (892c6-8). The Athenian Stranger then makes another strange detour in his argument by making it clear that Kleinias and Megillus can have no active part in the defense of the gods due to the unfamiliarity with the atheist’s arguments: they are to avoid the prospect of ridicule from their younger peers in the event that they fail to obtain the great things for which they have reached (892d4-893a8). The ducking of talking about what constitutes the soul and nature will late be shown to be one of the critical points in the Athenian Stranger’s logos about philosophy’s ability to defend the divine on rational grounds. With these important caveats in place, the Athenian Stranger inaugurates his defense of the gods against the impious youth.
The Defense of the Divine: The Cultivation of Eros and the Limitations of Logos
The Athenian Stranger begins his defense of the gods by invoking the aid of the gods “in all seriousness” to assist him in his demonstration that the existence of the soul is prior to the existence of the body (893b1-5).[19] If the gods are human’s superiors, which presumably they are, then it makes perfect sense to ask for their aid in order to defend them against the claims of the atheist. By requesting the gods’ help, the Athenian Stranger seems to indicate that humans cannot furnish an adequate account of the gods on their own. The relationship between the gods and humans, then, is not one of thumos (the gods are a possession of man) but one of eros (humans, like puppets, are possessions of the gods).22 Whether it be the atheist or the Athenian Stranger, one must accept that he or she is part of a greater whole and accordingly orientate him or herself towards that whole. In other words, the philosopher requires divine assistance to orientate him or herself towards the gods so to transcend his sphere of self-absorption.
The Athenian asks the atheist whether all things move, remain static, or do some move and some remain static, to which the atheist replies that some things move and some things do not move (893b6-893c5). Continuing to ask the atheist questions about motion, the Athenian Stranger distinguishes motion into its spatial (893c5-10), rotational, and linear character (893c10-893d3). The harmony of the different types of rotational motions in the universe is the “source of all wonders” in humans (893d3-7) since they generate both growth and decay (893d7-894a2). Underlying this process of growth and decay is the durable quality of a thing’s character. Change, thus, is a change in a being’s substance (essence) and not merely of its appearance (quality) (893e7-894a2; 894a7-9).
By using a geometrical allegory, the Athenian Stranger explains how this process of change brings about the substance of sensible reality: non-dimensional points (arche) are transformed into a second-dimensional surface which, in turn, becomes third-dimensional, perceivable solids (894a1-7).[20] With respect to the non-dimensional points, there exist two motions that transform them into a two-dimensional surface, both of which belongs to the soul:1) the motion capable of moving others but incapable of moving itself, and 2) the motion capable of moving others as well as moving itself (894b1-2; 894b9-14). The origins and the dynamics of these non-dimensional points (arche) would seem to belong to the power and nature of the soul.
The Athenian Stranger opens his argument by postulating a first cause: there exists a self-moved mover who directs all the other motions in the universe (895b1-9); however, the Athenian does not defend his postulate, thereby making it susceptible to Kant’s criticism of first causes.[21] Assuming that the existence and need of a self-moved mover, the Athenian Stranger investigates the nature of this first cause, whether it is made out of the primordial elements or something else (895c3-6). Kleinias asks whether this first cause is alive, to which the Athenian Stranger answers that it is, though, again, there is no proof given to defend his reply (895c7-13). It is possible that the first cause could be a being without a soul like a planet or a star; but, the Athenian Stranger does not consider this possibility, even after Kleinias had asked whether this first cause was alive. Eventually the Athenian and Kleinias recognize that the soul is this living, first cause once they had matched the definition with its name (895d1-896b2). But the definition of the soul as the first, living cause of motion in the cosmos is not a proof; rather, it is a postulate provided by the Athenian Stranger. Consequently, it has not been adequately demonstrated that the soul is the eldest of all things that rules the body in spite of Kleinias’ eager agreement (896b2-5; 896c5-8): the Athenian Stranger merely has presented a series of postulates that must be taken on a leap of faith instead of accepted as a philosophical proof.
Proceeding from this unproven premise that the soul is prior to the body, the Athenian Stranger examines the nature of the soul (896b6-896d4) and concludes that the soul is the cause of all things good and bad, shameful and noble, just and unjust since it is the first cause of all things (896d6-9). Specifically, the soul sets into motion the primary forces of the cosmos from which secondary motions arise that are, in turn, responsible for growth and decay in the universe (896e8-897b1). If the soul takes up reason (nous)–god as correctly understood–then all things are guided towards what is correct and happy; but, if the soul takes up unreason, then it produces the opposite results (897b1-7; 897c4-897d2).[22] The decision to take up reason or to take up unreason would seem to reside in the soul, not in the body, given the fact that the soul is the first begetter of motion.
Since the soul, the Athenian Stranger is talking about includes all living things (895c4-7), humans would also possess a soul (899a8-11); thus, the responsibility of one’s fates falls upon every person’s own shoulders. As Pangle cognitively argues, every person is called upon to assume his or her responsibilities according to reason–god correctly understood–to satisfy the major demands of his or her thumos, a love of what one’s own while, at the same time, to be able to be called to take something up outside him or herself (eros).[23]Thumos is honored but not at the expense of eros in the Athenian Stranger’s account: the role of thumos in a person’s decision-making between justice an d injustice is noted as one’s responsibility to follow nous in eros. The Athenian Stranger’s testimony of the soul as the first cause, then, is nothing more than therapeutic effort to cure the defective nature of the atheist’s thumos, an encouragement to follow his eros as prompted by the sight of nous.
Given that the Athenian Stranger’s logos are a series of unproven statements to defend that the soul is prior to the body, the ability of philosophy to defend the divine appears to be defective. What is required to help the impious youth is not a superior logos rooted in reason but a logos that is a mixture of philosophy and extra-philosophical argument to accomplish the task of transforming the atheist’s thumos into eros. Such a logos would be a “saving tale” of the “myth of virtue” for man and the polis (645b-c).[24] Philosophy therefore requires divine assistance (893b1-5) to defend the gods because of its limited ability to furnish a “saving tale” for the atheist: human’s thumos is not receptive to logos alone but to a mixture of muthos, preludes, and logos. The atheist’s psychological state would seem to be a type of intellectual self-absorption caused by his excessive thumos, one which ultimately leads him towards a rationalized understanding of the universe. By accepting reverence, the philosopher acknowledges the fruits from and the limitation of reason.
The Athenian Stranger analyzes the specific nature of the motion of the soul by creating an image out of the previous types of motions which he earlier had described to the Dorians (897e1-6). The motion attributed only to the soul is the one which drives all the other motions of the lesser, individual souls (e.g., heavens, stars) (898c1-898d5).[25] By focusing on one heavenly body, like the sun, the Athenian Stranger distinguishes between the senses, which can grasp the sensible objects, and reason (nous) which can grasp rational thought alone (898d8-15). Reason therefore can comprehend things which are inaccessible to the senses. But in the next sequence of his argument, the Athenian Stranger continues the argument unreasonably by postulating instead of explaining that the mover of the sun is “held to be a god by every person” as are the other souls who move things in the cosmos according to virtue (899d20-89911; 899b3-11). Though the proof of the gods’ existence has been completed, the equation of the soul with the gods remains unproven.
There are two possibilities for this omission in the Athenian Stranger’s defense of the gods: 1) reason is not able to provide an account of the gods because of human’s ontological and epistemological relation to them, or 2) reason is able to provide an account of the gods but the results of such an endeavor would run contrary to the appearances of the myth of virtue. An evaluation of the argument of the Athenian Stranger after his defense of the gods would seem to support both positions with qualifications. The philosopher’s reason cannot provide a fully rational account of the gods because of human’s inferior ontological and epistemological place in the cosmos; consequently, the philosopher must acknowledge and follow his or her eros to prevent this reason from falling into rationalism, a condition of thumos as in the case of the atheist. Thus, the philosopher must make him or herself open to the possibility of revelation (reverence): reason is able to pride an account of the gods–a saving tale as it were–as long as it restrains itself; otherwise, reason’s account would be a rationalist one which would obscure the true nature of the divine.
Notes
[13] Seventh Letter. 341c-d.
[14] Thumos comprises 1) a response which serves desire, 2) a self-esteem for oneself as compared to all men, and 3) an assignment of responsibility to that which frustrates desire. Pangle, Thomas. “The Political Psychology of Religion in Plato’s Laws,” 1059-1077. Also refer to Plato’s Symposium (212a-212e).
[15] The inequality between the polis and the citizen is best expressed by Plato in the Crito (50a-54c). Also refer to Aristotle’s comments on the role of equality in friendship in Book Eight and Nine of the Ethics.
[16] The distinction between nature and convention arose out of the Athenian search for a new type of education (paideia) as she emerged as a center of Hellenic culture (Rahe, Paul. Republics: Ancient and Modern (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1992)), 186-190. The sophist movement, best represented by Protagoras, sought to anchor education not in blood or in physical ability but in man’s ability to comprehend nature (reason). The result of this revolutionary pedagogical theory was a rift between Athenian religious convention and cultural practice (rational speculation) (Werner, Paideia, 285-328; also refer to Protagoras. 3129a). The ground of the sophists’ rational speculation was the human alone. Since a person cannot know about the gods’ existence, he or she must become the: measure of all things, “including educational excellence (Theaeteus. 152a; Cratylus. 385e-386a). Although the sophists resigned themselves to the insolubility of religious ritual, they nonetheless recognized that religion was somehow “intimately connected” with the “high ideal of culture” (Jager, Ibid.). The consequences of this schizophrenic position were for the sophist to relegate all traditional values as relative while, at the same time not to relegate his own epistemological position to the same criteria. The ultimate consequence of these tow contradictory positions was the inability of the sophists to uncover any permanent ground within man to construct a theory of paideia. The persistence of the varied religious practices among the numerous Hellenic poleis only reinforce this fact. A new search was required to locate a social and political foundation for the pedagogical theory paideia of rational thought – such was the task of Plato’s.
[17] Pangle, “The Political Psychology of Religion in Plato’s Laws,” 1066.
[18] Pangle’s distinction between the pre-Socratic science of nature (889b1-889b5) and the Socratic science of nature (892a2-892c8; 886d3-7) is a useful analytical tool to demonstrate how the Athenian Stranger integrates both conceptions of nature into a single paradigm. Pangle, “The Political Psychology of Religion in Plato’s Laws,” 1059-77; also refer to the Timaeus for a more detailed account of the Socratic science of nature.
[19] For a brief, alternative explanation why the Athenian Stranger invokes the aid of the gods at this point, refer to Pangle, “The Political Psychology of Religion in Plato’s Laws,” 1072-1073.
[20] Refer to Aristotle’s On the Soul (404b18ff.) for further clarification on this “geometrical” process.
[21] Kant, Immanuel. Critique of Pure Reason. Norman Kemp Smith Translator (Milwaukee, WI: Marquette University Press, 1987), 426-429; The Ephesians (e.g., Anaxagoras) also taught that all things were always in motion, thereby rejecting the principle of a first cause (Theaeteus. 179c–180e).
[22] Like Pangle, I also follow the major manuscripts with Burnet. Pangle, Thomas. “Interpretative Essay,” 534. Footnote 22 of Book Ten. Also refer to the Timaeus (34a-b; 90c-d) for a similar account of Plato’s metaphysics.
[23] Pangle, “The Political Psychology of Religion in Plato’s Laws,” 1075-1076.
[24] Also, refer to Socrates’ reference to saving tale in the myth of Er in the Republic (521c) as another example of Plato employing philosophical and extra-philosophical arguments in his dialogues.
[25] The Athenian Stranger’s description of the heavens and planets possessing souls seem to contradict his earlier statements where he argues that the sun and other stars come into being without souls (889b-889c). This previous account can be reconciled if we observed that the account of the stars not possessing souls is per the “presumably wise men” (888e8-889a2), who may be represented of the pre-Socratic science of nature. The Athenian Stranger’s argument that the heavenly bodies have souls should not be seen as a flat-out contradiction of the pre-Socratic science of nature; rather, it should be viewed as building upon the foundation that the “presumably wise men” have built. Voegelin’s theory of the differentiation of consciousness is especially useful here to analyze how, in this case, a reconciliation between the pre-Socratic science can occur without a dilution of truth. Voegelin, Eric. New Science of Politics (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1952); Anamnesis. Gerhart Niemeyer, translator. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1978); Order and History: Plato and Aristotle (Baton Rouge, LA: Louisiana State University Press, 1990).
This was originally published in VoegelinView on February 2, 2018.