PLATO
AND THE CITY:
A NEW INTRODUCTION TO PLATO'S POLITICAL THOUGHT
This
book is a translation of a revised and extended version of Jean-François
Pradeau’s Platon et la cité, first
published in France in 1997.1 What does the book have to offer
English-speaking readers?
In
the first instance, as the title indicates, this is both a study of a specific
theme in Plato—the ‘city’ or political community—and an introduction to
Plato’s political thought as a whole. It is lucid and non-technical; it
includes summaries of the main dialogues relevant to this theme and translations
of key extracts; all Greek terms are translated throughout. It thus provides an
accessible survey of a major topic in Greek philosophy and political theory for
a wide range of students, scholars and general readers.
But
this book also has an original and distinctive approach to its subject.
Jean-François Pradeau, who teaches at the University of Paris-X Nanterre, is
widely recognised by specialists as one of the most gifted and original of
younger Plato scholars. He is the author of a major study of the Atlantis story
as well as of editions (translations with introductions and notes) of two
Platonic dialogues. This book offers a valuable point of access to the unified
and systematic reading of Plato that is characteristic of much contemporary
French scholarship.
It
may be helpful to spell out more fully how Pradeau’s approach differs from the
characteristic standpoint of much Plato scholarship in English. Since the Second
World War there have been two overriding preoccupations in English-language
Plato scholarship. One is the question of Plato’s attitude to democracy. The
other is the question of how Plato’s thought developed, especially in his
later works, after the Republic.
Karl
Popper, reacting against the rise of Fascism and of totalitarianism in the
inter-war years, famously described Plato as an ‘enemy of the Open Society’.
The debate about whether Plato was or was not an opponent of democracy had a
pervasive influence on much post-war scholarship on Plato, particularly on the Republic.2
A reaction of a different kind to the rise of Fascism in the 1930s underlies the
work of Leo Strauss, a German émigré whose writings have had a huge, though
controversial, influence, especially in the USA. Strauss maintained that
Plato’s message in the Republic was
that philosophers could have no effective influence on political life and should
concern themselves purely with the search for truth. This message (Strauss
claimed) is conveyed in an oblique, self-concealing style that only skilfully
trained academic readers can decode. Right-wing American intellectuals have
taken the Straussian reading of Plato as supporting their rejection of political
programmes of social improvement in the USA.3
A
second preoccupation of English-language Plato scholarship in the last 50 years
has been with a supposed development in Plato’s later thought. The Republic
has been seen as the classic text of Platonic Utopian idealism. The political
structure outlined there (centred on the idea of philosophers as rulers) has
been taken as a constitutional blue-print that Plato would like to see realized
in real life. In his later works, the Statesman,
Timaeus-Critias, Laws, Plato is
thought to have become gradually convinced that this blue-print could never be
realised. He turned towards a more constitutional model (the law-bound state),
though he adopted this only as a ‘second best’
to the ideal state of the Republic.
Pradeau’s
book forms a welcome contrast to both these scholarly tendencies. A key theme in
his book, which has a bearing on both tendencies, is that Plato’s political
philosophy is not primarily centred on constitutional
thought (including thought about democracy) at all. What Plato is trying to
define are certain core ideas, which apply to political life in all types of
constitution, and which are significant for non-political life as well. The
chief of these is the idea that politics is—or should be—an art or craft, a
form of knowledge, grounded in objective principles. A central role of this art
is that of creating a community that is genuinely unified; and, without this
art, no community can achieve real unity.
As
Pradeau brings out, this means that Plato is neither anti- or pro-democratic,
any more than he is (as he has often been thought to be) pro-Spartan,
pro-aristocratic or pro-monarchical. This is not to deny that
Plato’s dialogues imply certain views or responses to Athenian
democracy. Pradeau shows, revealingly, how Plato’s Menexenus,
a pastiche funeral oration to Athenians who have died in war, gives a picture of
Athens’ deterioration in the fifth century, which implies a critique of
Athenian democratic political culture. Also, in the Laws,
Plato imagines a form of politico-economic life in which the Athenian democratic
ideal of equality was realized, though in a radically different constitutional
pattern. But, in both cases, Plato’s response to (Athenian-style) democracy is
dictated by his larger conceptual approach, which is not fundamentally linked
with constitutional forms at all.
Pradeau’s
book also forms a marked contrast to most developmental readings of Plato’s
thought. He sees a single line of thought, centred on the role of knowledge as
an art which unifies the city, running throughout Plato’s works, from the
early, supposedly ‘Socratic’, dialogues to the Laws,
Plato’s last work. The variations between the dialogues do not indicate change
in these core ideas. Rather, different dialogues have different conceptual
projects which examine various aspects of these ideas. Pradeau shows how, in a
series of dialogues, including the Euthydemus
as well as the Republic, Plato works
out the idea of knowledge of the good as both a determinate kind of expertise
and one that can guide the management of other functions. In the Republic, the central theme for exploration is that such knowledge
can operate both at the psychological and socio-political level and that this is
the only force that can bring real unity to the functions of both
personality and state. Without the direction of such knowledge, all political
constitutions and psychological conditions are more or less incoherent.
Although
the Republic is widely thought of as
Plato’s central political work, in fact it explicitly cuts across the
boundaries of the psychological and the political, and does not, as Pradeau
underlines, define a specifically political art at all. It is the Statesman
that focuses on the distinctive form of political art, characterised by the
combination of objective knowledge of the good and the ability to unify the
different elements in the community by a process of ‘weaving’ through
education. It is also the Statesman
that explores such centrally political questions as the relationship between
government and law and between government through executive action and through
constitutional forms.
The
Statesman is sometimes seen as marking
the start of a process in which Plato renounces the hope of realizing the ideal
that philosophers could become rulers and settles for a ‘second best’,
government by constitutional laws. Pradeau argues that this is not how we should
understand the thought of Plato’s later dialogues. Plato retains his
conviction that knowledge of the good should govern the direction of politics;
but in the dialogues after the Republic he explores the idea that such knowledge can be embodied in
constitutional structures and codes of law as well as direct executive
government. Rather than seeing these later dialogues as marking a philosophical
retreat, Pradeau sees them as conceptually adventurous, as Plato presses in
different directions the idea of knowledge-based political frameworks.
In
the Timaeus-Critias, Plato links the
study of political expertise and order with that of the physical universe. The
Atlantis story serves as a vehicle for exploring the physical aspects of
political life and for depicting the contrast between the rationally based,
unified state and its opposite in terms of the use of land and of material
culture. In the Laws, Plato’s last
and longest work, Plato works out in the fullest and most systematic way the
thought that political art or knowledge could pervade and unify the life of an
entire community. Political art in this case is seen as expressed by a
combination of direct government, constitutional forms, laws accompanied by
public explanation, education and custom, and is conceived as operative in the
entire material, social and cultural life of a community.
The
Laws has often been seen as Plato’s
dullest and least philosophically coherent work. Pradeau presents it as
Plato’s political masterpiece, the culmination of his vision of a community
unified by political art.
Although Pradeau’s book marks a contrast with much earlier English-language scholarship, his ideas have parallels in some recent scholarship. Certain British and American scholars are also questioning the standard picture of development in Plato’s political philosophy and in Plato’s thought more generally.4 This gives an added interest to Pradeau’s compelling statement of the unified reading of Plato’s political thought. His book is both a striking and suggestive academic study in its own right and a valuable introduction to a perennially fascinating aspect of Plato’s philosophy.
1 Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1997.
2 K. Popper, The Open Society and its Enemies, vol. 1, London, Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1945; J.R. Bambrough, ed., Plato, Popper and Politics, Cambridge, Heffer, 1967. For a new treatment of this theme, see A. Samaras, Plato and Democracy, Bern, Peter Lang, 2002.
3 L. Strauss, The City and Man, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1964; for discussions see M.F. Burnyeat, ‘Sphinx without a Secret’, New York Review of Books May 30, Oct. 10, 1985, and G.R.F.Ferrari, Strauss’s Plato, Arion 5.2 (1997), 36-65.
4 Scepticism about the standard picture of Plato’s chronology and of development in English-language scholarship is expressed by, for instance, J. Cooper, Introduction to Plato: Complete Works, Indianapolis, Hackett, xii-xviii, C.H. Kahn, Plato and the Socratic Dialogue: The Philosophical Use of a Literary Form, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1996, ch. 2. The standard picture of Platonic political development has been questioned especially by C. Rowe, e.g. in ‘The Politicus and Other Dialogues’, in C. Rowe and M. Schofield, eds, The Cambridge History of Greek and Roman Political Thought, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2000, 233-57, esp. 244-51. See, more generally, J. Annas and C. Rowe, eds., Perspectives on Plato, Modern and Ancient, Cambridge, Mass., Harvard University Press, forthcoming.