CHAPTER 6

Plato’s View on Greek Government

Luc Brisson

Plato defends a philosophical doctrine that is characterized by two reversals. The firstreversal is that the things amongst which we live and which are perceived by oursenses are mere images of separate intelligible forms (ideai), which constitute genuinereality. Unlike those things perceived by the senses, the forms possess their principleof existence within them. The second reversal is that man cannot be reduced tohis physical body, and his genuine identity coincides with what we designate by theterm soul (psyche). In both mankind and the rest of the universe, psyche accounts forall motion, both material (growth, locomotion, etc.) and immaterial (feelings, senseperception, intellectual knowledge, etc.). Throughout history, Platonism has continuedto be characterized by these two reversals. They account for Plato’s positions in the fieldsof epistemology, ethics, and politics.

For Plato, politics must take into consideration the body and its environment. Onearth, the soul sets in motion a body that has specific needs; the satisfaction of thoseneeds, however, must be re-situated within a hierarchy of ‘‘goods’’ to be pursued. Thishierarchy places the soul at the summit of divine goods, which guides the intellect so thatit may practice the four virtues of moderation, courage, wisdom, and justice. This outlookis clearly manifested in Plato’s political works: the Republic, the Statesman, and the Laws.

Criticizing Athenian Democracy

Plato proposed a revolutionary project with regards to fourth-century Athens (see Hansen1991). He attacked Athenian democracy (which was very different from contemporaryrepresentative democracy) because he viewed it as being responsible for Sokrates’ death.He wanted to overthrow the Athenian political system and reconstruct a just city,in which philosophers in general, and Sokrates in particular, would not risk death.

A Companion to Ancient Greek Government, First Edition. Edited by Hans Beck.© 2013 John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. Published 2013 by John Wiley & Sons, Ltd.

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To achieve this objective, Plato sought to design a city where the conflicts which tookplace within the assembly and the court could not occur.

In the fifth century BCE, a direct democracy was established in Athens. The center ofexpression and decision-making within this new political environment was the assembly(ekklesia). Here, for several days per year, hundreds of citizens met, the less wealthyamongst them receiving a remuneration (misthon), which enabled them not to work onthese days. A bill was introduced and defended by an eminent citizen. It was debatedif divergent opinions were expressed, it went to a vote, and was either adopted ordiscarded. Mutatis mutandis, the procedure was the same for the election of magistrates,in particular for the most important ones, the generals (strategoi). In the context ofthis direct democracy, the power of persuasion by speech was crucial, whether it was amatter of getting oneself elected, or of getting a bill adopted, which might sometimescommit the city to an important war.

In addition, Athenian citizens personally defended their rights in court. Opposite thelitigants, who were assisted by synegoroi – silent witnesses motivated by solidarity – wasa magistrate. He was in overall charge of the trial; he had lost the right to judge,and fulfilled instead the function of moderator alongside a popular jury, which settledthe debate by vote during the preliminary deliberations. In this context, the Atheniantrial remained, in certain respects, a joust between two parties. The role of the judicialauthorities was to supervise this joust, to ensure its rules were respected, and to ratify itsresults. The role of the judges was restricted to pronouncing a judgment in agreementwith the law or with what was perceived as justice, without any autonomous actionregarding the establishment of the facts or the application of punishment.

One can therefore understand why citizens would pay high prices for the services ofso-called sophists, who taught the art of speech, enabling the resolution of conflicts incourt and in the assembly by influencing popular opinion. One can also easily understandwhy Plato opposed these sophists, seeking to give power instead to the philosophers,who presented the truth, rather than the plausible.

A New Definition of Politics

The starting point for all reflection on Plato’s philosophical approach to politics dependson his unusual definition of politics.1 In Book I (650b) of the Laws, the AthenianStranger declares: ‘‘So this insight into the nature and disposition of a man’s soul willrank as one of the most useful aids available to the art that is concerned to foster a goodcharacter – the art of statesmanship (politikes), I take it?’’ This presupposition introducesthe thesis that is propounded throughout the entire work: the goal of the law is tomake the city as a whole achieve virtue in all of its aspects. This is affirmed explicitly in630d–632d, where this mission is made into legislation. The passage further presentsthe hierarchy of goods that must preside over the evaluation and choice of conduct inthe city. In the course of its terrestrial existence, the soul lives in a body that requires anenvironment favorable to its birth, its harmonious development, and its reproduction.This is why politics must also take the body and its environment into consideration,re-situating them within a hierarchy of goods to be pursued, a hierarchy that places at

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its summit the divine goods constituted by the four cardinal virtues. This view can beobserved in the dialogues, and particularly in the Gorgias (464b).

The Republic

We can therefore understand why, in the Republic, the organization of the city isassociated with the structure of the soul.2 The soul corresponds to a text written insmall print, where the city is written in large print (Rep. II, 368c–369a). One cannotspeak of the city without speaking of the soul, which has three faculties. Plato maintainsthat the city will be excellent, just like the soul of an individual, when each of itsfaculties or parts accomplishes its proper function (Rep. IV, 427e–445e). The parts ofeach citizen’s soul must be understood as agents in a bi-/univocal relation with thefunctional groups in the city. The members of each of the three functional groupsthat make up the city are chosen as a function of the part of the soul that exercises aspecific activity: appetite (epithymia) among the producers, spirit (thymos) among theguardians, and intellect (nous) among the philosophers. Excellence in the exercise ofthese activities, that is, self-restraint (sophrosyne), courage (andreia), and good judgment(phronesis), will ensure concord, or justice (dike), in the soul of the citizen and in thecity as a whole. The producer must display self-restraint. The guardians must also displaycourage, while the philosophers must display excellence through self-restraint, courage,and good judgement. If each part achieves excellence at that which it aims, justice andconcord will reign in the soul, as in the city.

In order to make conflict impossible, Plato attacks both the nuclear and extendedfamily (oikos; cf. Natali 2005), which competes with other families to gain wealth andpower from generation to generation. Such competition is a source of conflict, bothinternal and external. Internally, it gives rise to a gap, more and more accentuated,between the rich, who want to become more rich, and the poor, who necessarily becomemore poor. This is the major obstacle to concord within the city. What is more, thiscompetition generates external wars, for in order to obtain more wealth and territory,the city is forced to attack its neighbors. Rejecting the family both in the strict andthe broad sense, Plato turns the city into a big family, by telling two myths which heconsiders to be ‘‘noble lies’’ (III, 414b): the myth of autochthony (III, 414d–e), inwhich all the citizens are born from the earth, and the myth of the metals (III, 415a–c),which explains why the citizens must be distributed into three functional groups.

Within this city, the producers produce what is necessary for the subsistence of theother two groups, who do not work. The guardians ensure the security of the inhabitants.Education enables the training of the guardians, some of whom, as a result of specifictests, will be chosen to become philosophers, who lead the city. Those who are chosenwill then have to follow a cycle of higher studies (VI, 502a–VII, 541b), especiallyincluding mathematics. These studies will enable them to understand the structure ofthe world of the senses, and to go beyond it through dialectic, thereby providing themwith access to the world of genuine realities (forms), which is oriented toward the Good.The philosophers will thus be able to lead the city according to the immutable, universalvalues that pertain to the forms.

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Yet how can unity be achieved on the basis of three functional groups, the first ofwhich does not communicate with the other two? This is done through the ‘‘noble lie,’’mentioned above, which considers the city as a large family. Once unity and concordhave been established, it becomes possible to seek excellence in the city, whose first taskis to care for the soul of the citizens. The well-being of the body and wealth follow.

It is very hard to know what Plato proposed for the producers, but as far as the groupof guardians is concerned, it is clear that they, together with the philosophers, were toform the ruling class. Plato separates the governing class, which contains the warriorsand the philosophers, from the producers, who provide both warriors and philosopherswith the necessities of life. Plato reserves the use of force for one functional group alone,that of the guardians; he intends to give supreme power to knowledge, represented bythe philosophers, who are chosen from among the guardians. The members of the rulingclass cannot possess either property or family (V, 461c–471c), and this rejection of thefamily implies a redefinition of the status of women (V, 451c–461d).

In fourth-century Athens, the opposition on which all others depended was thatbetween man and woman, which was related to the dichotomy of public and private.This opposition was not arbitrary, and did not necessarily derive from man’s intentionto dominate women. Rather, it was the inevitable consequence of defining humanbeings by their bodies, from which the distribution of social roles between men andwomen followed. Women are defined by their sex, which enables them to bear children.Pregnancy makes them incapable of engaging in either manual work or combat. Sincechildren must be fed, protected, and educated for several years before they becomeautonomous, women become bound to these tasks. They are therefore relegated to theprivate sphere. Men, in contrast, who are generally physically stronger than women,engage in manual labor and war, and therefore are necessarily political actors at the sametime. Compared to women, men reserve the public sphere for themselves. This has beena common criticism of Athenian citizenship. Men were the only ones able to possessland and to vote in the assembly and at court; in exchange, they were obliged to fight.Plato is aware that his propositions will give rise to three ‘‘waves’’ of protest: againstthe integration of women into the group of warriors, the community of women andchildren, and the establishment of philosopher kings.

In short, Plato sought in the Republic to establish a conflict-free society based on thepractice of justice in the soul and in the city; justice alone was capable of establishingconcord and unity. To do this, he subordinates the body to the soul within the soul,reserving the most important place for the intellect, whose object is knowledge; in thecity he gives power to the philosophers, who possess supreme knowledge. Plato therebysought to take on the role of those legendary legislators whom Sokrates described toHomer in this passage from Book X:

Homer, . . . then tell us which cities are better governed because of you, as Sparta is becauseof Lykourgos, and as many others – large and small – are because of many other men? Whatcity gives you credit for being a good lawgiver who benefited it, as Italy and Sicily do toCharondas, and as we do to Solon? (599d–e)

In the process, he presents himself as a founder, a philosopher who has the leisure todesign a city in words.

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The Statesman

The Statesman remains faithful to the thesis defended in the Republic.3 Only wisegovernment of the city will be able to provide it with excellence, or virtue (arete). Likethe individual soul, the city can only claim to accomplish this if each of the groups ofwhich it is composed perfectly accomplishes its proper function. Only then will the souland the city achieve their common excellence: justice. The Statesman pursues the samegoal as is pursued in the Republic. Yet between these dialogues the means defined inorder to obtain this goal are distinct. First, the Statesman does not compare the city toan individual soul, as the Republic does, but to a ‘‘cloth.’’ Second, the Statesman carriesout an unprecedented reflection on the technical skill which politics requires. On theone hand, the Statesman seeks to describe the city as an assembly that must link togethermoral characters that are heterogeneous and even contrary. On the other, the dialogueintends to explain that the creation of unity within the city involves a technical operationthat must be defined: the tekhne politike. Yet who is in possession of this skill, and whatis its objective?

Plato has already denied the possession of this skill to certain people. Whether he isrefering to the rhapsode and the poets in the Ion, or the rhetor and the sophist in theGorgias and in the Sophist , he distinguishes the more or less effective procedures thathuman beings employ as a result of the possession of a genuine skill, which presupposesgenuine knowledge or science (episteme). A technical skill cannot be limited to thepractical activity of its application: it always includes the precondition of this activity,which is knowledge of its specific object, that is, the way in which it is produced or used.The Statesman remains faithful to the axiom when it affirms that the city (polis) andits constitution (politeia) can only be produced by a competent technician, an expertwho possesses adequate knowledge. This is why the definition of political skill initiallypresents itself as a definition of political science, that is, the politike tekhne, or epistemepolitike.

The dialogue makes successive use of three different methods of research and definition:division (258b–268d), myth (268d–277c), and paradigm (277d–311c). Each pursues,in its turn, the definition of the same object. Recourse to these three methods, whichmutually correct one another, enables the interlocutors to define political skill as a royalscience, theoretical and directive, which ensures the general happiness of the citizens andthe city.

The definition (logos) of the statesman produced by division as ‘‘shepherd of thehuman flock’’ is not satisfactory, for two reasons. First, it is not limited exclusivelyto the statesman but includes other types of shepherds, among whom the Strangerclassifies merchants, laborers, bakers, pedagogues, and doctors (267e). All are presentedas rivals or pretenders who are prone to lay claim to the pastoral care of the humanflock to increase their own share, denying it to the statesman alone. In addition, unlikethe shepherd (nomeus), the statesman does not maintain, with regard to his flock, theexclusive relation that links each of the other shepherds to their animals. Indeed, in thecase of domestic animals, each flock is made up of animals of the same species, groupedtogether in a flock of which the shepherd takes complete and exclusive charge. The rulerwho does not feed men, any more than he educates them or looks after their health, is

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thus not the only technician whose function it is to take care of the human flock. Froma methodological viewpoint, this comparison attests to a lacuna in the text; from thepolitical viewpoint it presents a major difficulty.

The myth4 denounces the ‘‘historical’’ irrelevance of the definition obtained by divi-sion, although it indicates that this definition has to be sought in two ways: first, inrelation to the divinity, which is the cause of all order in the world and is the origin ofour relative autonomy, and second, as a reflection on skills, whose myth shows that theyare the means by which men can imitate the world, and set their common existence inorder. In this regard, the myth’s conclusion is programmatic, and it provides the restof the discussion with its objects, without setting them forth. Myth has carried out itscorrective function well, and the investigation can now continue.

The course of the arguments of the third part of the dialogue is more complex thanthe division, and, a fortiori, the myth, had been. It applies, as a whole, the metaphorof weaving to political skill. It can be summarized as follows: once the principle of thecomparison between weaving and politics is accepted, the dialogue establishes that theformer of these two techniques is exercised upon a material on which other technicianshave already worked, a mixed material that works in its turn, in order to produce cloth, itsobject. Weaving can only be defined on two conditions: (i) that it be distinguished fromother techniques that are its ‘‘auxiliaries,’’ that is, that prepare the material on which theweaver works, and (ii) that its proper objective be defined by its difference from the merelysimilar objects produced by ‘‘rival’’ techniques. The distinction is thus made betweenauxiliary techniques that accompany the work of the principal technique, and those thatsimply resemble the principal technique, without contributing to it (280b2–3). Oncethis twofold task has been accomplished, the lessons of the definition of weaving maythen be applied to politics, which can in turn be distinguished from its auxiliary and rivaltechniques. If, as even its interlocutors admit, the Statesman takes a long time to carryout this paradigmatic comparison, this is a result of methodological requirements.

The exercise of power is based on the possession of knowledge. In this regard, theStatesman by no means infringes on the Platonic axiom that also governs the Republicand the Laws. What is more, this knowledge can only be applied to well-educatedcitizens, for it is out of the question to join the good with the bad in an assembly.The first connection is a divine link that connects together the parts of virtue inthe soul. For the statesman who must concern himself with human connections, thegoal is to establish links between moderate and soul-possessing characters, throughthe intermediary of marriages and magistracies. Although the argumentative context isdifferent, we find here once again the same concerns as in the Republic: to ensure thedomination of the intellect in the soul, and, in the city, to privilege knowledge abovecourage and moderation, so as to produce a city in which justice and concord reign.

The Statesman remains faithful in its enquiry into the Platonic political principle thatdefines the right constitution (orthe politeia), which is unique, as the monarchical oraristocratic regime whose ruler or rulers possess political knowledge (see, for example,297b–c). Plato thus denounces the vacuousness of current constitutional typologies,because they ignore what makes a constitution good or bad, and he chooses, moreover,to cast suspicion on the traditional status accorded to the law. In Greek politicalthought, from at least the sixth century BCE, the law was held to be the foundation ofthe community of the polis, as well as its rational, constitutive link.

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The Platonic argument, which insists on subordinating law to knowledge, and onconsidering the former as a means or instrument that may turn out to be incidental, isboth innovative and subversive. Plato first designates the law as the privileged instrumentof political authority, which can only be exercised if it succeeds in imposing the type ofconduct it judges to be desirable upon a multitude of citizens. However privileged it maybe, the legislature remains one tool among many others for the purposes of unificationand care that characterize politics. It is unsurprising that Plato thus refutes the notionthat Greek law, and above all Athenian law, should constitute the foundation of the city.But he by no means intends to challenge the relevance of democratic Athenian legislationwith new legislation that would not share its shortcomings. As the philosopher remindsus, the law, whatever it may be, is simply the public form of the prescriptive discourseuttered by political power (294a); in this regard, it may just as easily be the prescriptionuttered by a wise ruler as the result of a democratic vote – that is, the decision of anassembly of incompetents.

Thus, the first political question cannot be that of whether or not the laws are just orwhether they are obeyed under constraint or freely; rather, it must first deal with the skillor knowledge of the legislator. Everything else, as the Stranger implies, is ultimately amere matter of means or circumstances. If the ruler is wise, he will have recourse to thelaw to maintain order among his fellow-citizens. The younger Sokrates, who is worriedabout the way the law is thus reduced to a mere instrument of political authority,provides the Stranger with the pretext for a completely unprecedented classificationof constitutions, which henceforth obeys the axiological criterion of knowledge, andspecifies even further the role of legislation in the care of the city.

The Laws

Like the Republic, the Laws associates the institution of a fictional city with all thequestions which, according to Plato, define philosophical reflection.5 Plato first maintainsthat a city can only achieve excellence or virtue on the condition that its government beexercised by men who are learned and instructed in the goals of common life and themeans to realize it, in order that the ordinary citizens may be trained for virtue, whichis the condition of their common happiness. In this regard, it goes without saying thatthe most learned men, those who, above and beyond all the others, are familiar withthe genuine, primary science called philosophy, will be the rulers of the city. Plato alsomaintains that the city cannot find within itself the principle of the excellence it proposesto achieve. The community of men is not sufficient unto itself, and must therefore seekoutside itself, in the perfection of the world and its divine causes, the reason and themodel of its own organization and of its possible reform. This is why the condition forthe institution of the city is knowledge of the order of the world, and of the universalcauses of goodness, a knowledge it is once again up to the philosophers to produce. Thisis the project of the Laws, which is, in its own way, the first great treatise of politicalphilosophy, combining political and legislative enquiry with ethical and anthropologicalissues, as well as investigation into nature and the divine.

It has been denied that the conception of the tripartite soul can be found in theLaws, as it is in the Republic (Bobonich 2002). If so – that is, if the human soul no

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longer has parts, each of which are to be understood as agents – it becomes impossibleto find the three groups of producers, soldiers, and philosophers who carry out the taskswhich correspond to the actions triggered by the different parts of the soul. Such aninterpretation could be challenged (cf. Brisson 2005), since it is indeed possible to findin the Laws a tripartite division of the soul that, while not identical, is similar to thatfound in the Republic. One can detect in the city of the Laws three groups of citizensthat are not identical to the producers, warriors, and philosophers of the Republic, butthat nonetheless fulfill similar functions in order to achieve an identical goal. In theLaws, Plato maintains the ethical and political positions he set forth in the Republic,although he puts them into action by other means. The end remains the same, even ifthe means used to achieve them are different.

In the Laws, one finds a similar parallelism between the parts of the soul and thoseof the city as in the Republic (see T.J. Saunders 1962). The appetite (epithymia),whose object is pain and pleasure, which must be mastered by the intellect with thehelp of spirit, corresponds to the people (demos); the spirit (thymos), characterized bycourage that must resist pain and pleasure, corresponds to the magistracy of the countrywardens (agronomoi) (Brisson, 2003: 221–226); the intellect (nous) or good judgment(phronesis) corresponds to the supreme magistracy of the Watch committee (nykterinossyllogos) (Brisson 2000b). Moreover, as in the Republic, this tripartition implies abipartition, for the people are distinguished from the two magistracies of the countrywardens and the Watch committee, the latter of which forms the governing body.

The Laws are less explicit than the Republic with regard to the topic of virtue, which isdefined less precisely, probably because it takes for granted what was argued in precedingdialogues. Yet what of the law that is to ensure the establishment of the whole of virtue?The term nomos, which we translate as ‘‘law,’’ has a great many uses and meanings.It can mean a particular law, but it can also indicate the system of laws, that is, theordered totality of laws, and at the same time the common principles on which they allrely. When nomos is used in its general sense, to designate the totality of the laws, italso denotes all the prescriptions that are imposed on the city, such that the term canbe used synonymously with that of politeia. This testifies in the simplest possible wayto the intermixture of juridical and institutional considerations, as well as to the way inwhich, for the Greeks, discourse on law is always, and immediately, a discourse on thecivic community and its constitutional organization. On this point, Plato does not breakwith the usages of his time, and he chooses to link the destiny of the city to that of itslegislation, to the point of fusing them together (Pierart 2008). This link is sealed bythe first definition of nomos given by the Laws (I 644b–d). The law is thus defined,in a general way, as a rational calculation imposed upon the entire city. The interestof this definition unquestionably lies in the way it gathers together and anticipates thevarious statuses that the remainder of the dialogue will reserve for the law: it is first andforemost a process of reasoning, fashioned by intellect just as it is to be set forth ina rational, demonstrative way. This rational thought is addressed to the soul, which issubject to pleasures and pains, fear and confidence, but which can also perceive a processof reasoning. Here, we once again find the functional tripartition of the soul expressedvery clearly in a passage from the Timaios (69c–d).

Yet this definition of the law opens onto another one, which alone gives meaning tothe whole of the Laws (IV 713e–714b). The city’s decree, which is prescriptive, is thus

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based on the regulation of the intellect (he tou nou dianome). The legislator of the Lawshas a twofold task: (i) to establish a proportional order in the soul of each individualby making the intellect reign, and by making the citizen a reasonable being, particularlythrough the intermediary of education; (ii) to establish a proportional order among thecitizens by ensuring the rule of the most deserving and the most virtuous, that is, ofthose who make the best use of the highest faculty of their soul, or intellect (nous),over those who do so to a lesser degree. Thus, guided by the most virtuous amongthem, the citizens cannot help but become virtuous, as the law recommends. It is thewritten law that serves as a tool for realizing this task, and this is why the law, when wellestablished, is understood as a ‘‘regulation of intellect.’’ This regulation concerns notonly the orientation of conduct, but also that of honors and therefore magistracies, thatis, the establishment of a power structure. The law issues decrees in both of these fields,and in each case, it is the result of the principle that holds the first place both in mankindand in the city, namely, intellect (nous).

The text of each law is introduced by a prelude (prooimion),6 the theory of which Platosets forth in Book IV (715e–734e), where we find the three parts of the soul associatedwith virtue. The formulation of the law represents the intellect (nous). The penaltiesincurred by miscreants, involving violence, whether physical (bia) or civic (blame and theloss of honors) is represented by spirit (thymos). According to Plato, a prelude is first andforemost an exhortation. By means of a play on words, Plato assimilates the exhortation(paramythia or paramythion) to the ‘‘myth that precedes the law’’ (ho pro tou nomoumythos) (XI, 927c). However, this play on words does not correspond exactly to reality,since not all preludes are myths. Some are rhetorical exhortations that manipulate blameand praise, and Book X of the Laws develops a demonstration (apodeixis, 887a, 893b;epideixis, 892c, 899d) that involves arguments (logoi, 887a). This last type of prelude,addressed exclusively to young people who have not been persuaded by the myths andrhetorical exhortations, and who take pleasure in speculations on nature, will not betaken into consideration here.

In the city of the Laws, ordinary citizens occupy the place held by the guardiansin the city of the Republic, although they are not exclusively warriors; the job of theproducers being conducted by metics, servants, and slaves. The ordinary citizens – andthis is an important point – do not carry out any manual labor. They administer theirdomain, and devote most of their time to civic life, whether by carrying out the duties ofa magistracy or participating in assemblies and in celebrations, or by sitting on tribunals.They also all have a military role, and they train to defend the city if it should enterinto war. The way in which all of the citizens, free from work and business, participatein civic life distinguishes the Laws from the Republic. Here, Plato does not separatethe citizens into three functional groups, but opts for division into three census classes,categorizing the citizens according to their patrimony. Then there is the remarkablespecification that wealth and poverty cannot exceed certain limits: the poorest citizenwill never own less than the property of one of the 5,040 parcels of civic soil. It is thesame unit that distinguishes the four classes, never more than four times the value of aparcel (V, 744c–d). It is not always noticed that this range of wealth is infinitely lesswide than the one exhibited by the Athenian democracy. Above all, however, in the cityof the Laws these property limits are accompanied by the prohibition, for all citizens,against possessing gold or silver. The plots owned by all households are granted to them

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by a sovereign, foundational act, such that this distribution of property, which is a localdivision of the city’s territory, may never be subsequently reversed or questioned. For afamily group (a household united around a citizen), to be a property owner is to be a partof the city, to belong to it. No substitution or exchange of this possession is possible,and property, rather than the free appropriation of a good by a family, designates thatfamily’s plot as an indivisible, inalienable part of the city.

In this respect, the Republic is less radical than the Laws, for the latter includes aplace for a group of producers who can possess land, a workshop or a business, whocan marry and have children, and who do not seem to be subject to any particularconstraint. This statement must be qualified, however, as the producers are under thedomination of the warriors, who submit them to constant supervision (IV, 421d–422a).One of the major differences between the Laws and the Republic comes from the factthat in the Laws, all of the citizens, both men and women, must fight in the army,which is directed and trained by specific magistracies (VI, 755b–756b); here, therefore,the military is no longer limited to a small, specialized group. However, a meticulousstudy of all the magistracies reveals the existence of a limited group, the country wardens(agronomoi) which, separated from the totality of the citizens as full-time magistrates,seems to constitute a reserve of specialists appointed to the task of surveillance of theterritory. From this group are drawn the members of the supreme authority, the Watchcommittee, which, as we shall see, is equivalent to the corps of philosopher kings in theRepublic.

In the last book of the Laws, Plato provides the details on the composition of thiscommittee (at 951d–e; cf. also 961a–c). We read the following:

This Committee, which should consist partly of young men and partly of old men, musthave a strict rule to meet daily from dawn until the sun is well up in the sky. Its membershipis to be: (1) those priests who have won high distinction, (2) the ten Guardians of thelaws who are currently the most senior, (3) the Minister of Education for the time being,together with his predecessors in office. No member should attend alone: each is to bring ayoung man of his own choice, aged between 30 and 40.

So the committee must be composed of the following members: (i) those priests whohave received the highest distinctions, (ii) the ten oldest Guardians of the laws, (iii) theacting Minister of Education and his predecessors, and (iv) an equal number of youngmen aged between 30 and 40, probably chosen from among the country wardens.

Once the necessity of an instrument for safeguarding has been admitted, it is appro-priate to consider the conditions under which this safeguarding is ensured. This canoccur only if the goal of the city is well defined, together with the principles that mustpreside over its constitution, and the means that will best ensure its efficacy (Laws XII,962b–c). Unlike other cities, of which a brief inventory is provided in 962d–e, the cityof the Laws (962e) must have only one single goal, which is the totality of virtue (pasaarete). This objective is not easy to achieve, for as we have seen there are four typesof virtue (963a–964a) which must be unified under the aegis of the intellect (964a).In the Laws, as in all of Plato’s dialogues, this is only possible in a city governed byintellect. The relationship established between virtue and intelligence derives from theequivalence between virtue and knowledge.

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This equivalence is established as a result of the following deduction. Virtue (arete)is excellence in one’s proper function, whether the subject of this function is inanimateor a living being. In either case, virtue qualifies not only excellence of character or ofconduct, but also, and above all, the perfection of an activity. If we limit our enquiry toliving beings, the essential question becomes: what can the criterion of virtue be, andhow can it be acquired? To this Plato always gives the same answer: although naturaldispositions must be taken into account, it is the possession of knowledge that givesvirtue its status. Whatever the activity under consideration may be, excellence is alwaysbased on previous knowledge. At this point, however, a new question arises: how can weescape the multiplicity of opinions on excellence, and above all, how can the multiplemodes in which excellence manifests itself be reduced to unity? The answer is thatexcellence has to do with order. Yet what this order belongs to, in a general sense, muststill be determined, for the citizen cannot be separated from the city, nor the city fromthe citizen, its essential element, or the universe in which it is inserted. Here we findonce again the Platonic argument that consists in subordinating politics to knowledge.

From the Republic to the Laws, by way of the Statesman, Plato’s political thoughtexhibits a great stability in his criticism of Athenian democracy and his proposals for anew government. The organization of the city must be confided to those who possessknowledge, who alone can enable their fellow-citizens to attain virtue, and thereforeexcellence, by means of education. The means employed to achieve this result aremodified as a function of the dialogues. But wise government, mistrust of the family, theequivalence between men and women, the importance of education, and the preeminenceaccorded to the care of the soul, remain constants. The tripartite division of the soul andof society is another persistent feature of Plato’s works. For Plato, politics is defined notas the art of resolving conflicts, but as the art of making conflict impossible. With this inmind, it is appropriate to have justice reign in the city and in the souls of the citizens, bysubmitting appetite and spirit to the intellect, which alone has access to genuine reality.

By maintaining that the sensory world, which never ceases to change, is a mere imageof the intelligible, which remains immutable and can only be reached by the higher partof the soul, Plato attributes to ethical and political virtues a universal, undeniable status.In his view, this status constitutes the only answer to the relativism his fellow-citizensadhere to: a relativism justified by the teaching of the sophists, who, not taking thetrue into account, are content with what is likely. These metaphysical presuppositionsconcerning the intelligible and the soul do not result in a neglect of the body and thecity, but rather situate them at a lower level, giving priority to knowledge of mankind,the city, and the universe.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

This article was translated from the French by Michael Chase.

NOTES

1 Two recent titles on this topic: Rowe and Schofield (2000); Schofield (2006).2 Among the extensive literature on this dialogue, cf. Rees (1965) and now Ferrari (2007).

104 Luc Brisson

3 For a collection of articles on this dialogue, see Rowe (1995).4 On the myth and its interpretation, see Brisson (1995).5 For a collection of articles on this dialogue, see Scolnicov and Brisson (2003); for a research

bibliography, Saunders and Brisson (2000); and for some interpretations, see Morrow (1993);Laks (2005, 2007a); Brisson and Pradeau (2006).

6 Different interpretations have been proposed by Bobonich (1991); Laks (1991, 2007b, 2007c);Brisson (2000a: 235–262).