Tuesday, June 22, 2010

The Possibility of an Ideal State


Plato paints the portrait of his ideal polis in his dialogue Republic. Here he suggests that the ideal State must be ruled by philosopher-kings: rulers that possess the highest political wisdom. He claims that the State, just like the human soul, naturally comes in threefold. In the soul, there are the rational, the spirited, and the appetitive elements, of which the rational must rank the highest. In parallel, the State’s citizens are divided into three classes: the Guardians (rulers, the rational), the Auxiliaries (soldiers and civilian administrators, the spirited), and the Workers (artisans, farmers, and the like, the appetitive). And likewise, Plato claims that the Guardians must naturally rule over the two other classes, for as the rational part of society, the Guardians know how to rule, protect, and sustain the polis. Plato definitely wants only the best to rule the ideal State. And it is in this kind of division of labour where Plato establishes his concept of justice: justice means doing your part in the work, staying in your post, and not interfering with others’ affairs. Hence neither a craftsman nor a military official can rule the ideal State.

What kind of philosophy must the philosopher-king possess? How could you produce such wisdom in the Guardians? Plato answers these questions in his suggested educational system in the Republic. He reserves for the Guardian class a special type of education that will enable them to reach the ultimate political wisdom, the Truth. He believes that the philosopher cannot rely on sense perception solely. In fact, he asserts that sense perception is the lowest form of knowledge acquisition. In Book VII, Plato presents his ever famous Allegory of the Cave, where he compares men to prisoners in an underground cave. There they were in chains since birth, and all they can see are shadows of real things as they cannot turn around their heads. And the sight of shadows is equated to sense perception: one does not see the totality of reality through mere senses. In Plato’s suggested education for the philosopher, one must advance from sense perception to the belief in visible objects, to the understanding of mathematical entities, and finally, to the knowledge of the Idea. For Plato, the Idea or Form is the abstract entity that underlies reality. And since the Form is abstract, the philosopher cannot only trust in his perception and belief of the material world; he must enquire into the ultimate truth and reality behind the physical realm. It is this kind of wisdom that Plato requires of the philosopher-king: discerning the first principles, abstract and obtained by pure Reason.

There are some objections one may raise against Plato’s idea of the ideal. For instance, in Book II, Socrates declares that “a State arises out of the needs of mankind; no one is self-sufficing, but all of us have many wants.” And while Plato sees this material origin of the State, in Book VII, Socrates most emphatically asserts in the Allegory that “just as the eye was unable to turn from darkness to light without the whole body, so too the instrument of knowledge can only by the movement of the whole soul be turned from the world of becoming into that of being.” But then the State, in its very nature and origin, is part of the world of the becoming: the physical, the tangible, and the sensible. So how can the ruler separate himself from the world of the becoming to be politically wise, when in fact the State that he rules is itself a physical being? If one has faith in Plato’s metaphysics, he might rejoin with this answer: the philosopher has to leave the physical world of the becoming temporarily, understand the abstract Form that governs the tangibles, and return to the physical world and govern the State according to how the Form governs physical objects. This might be true in science: the scientist observes physical phenomena, tries to discover the abstract mathematical law that governs it, and then applies that law to draw more conclusions about real events. But does this line of reasoning also occur in the managing of a State, or to set things in correct perspective, the polis? The State isn’t just about the people and geography; it is also about the intangible things that arise from, instead of underlie, these people: social interactions, civic affairs, and the like. These interactions arise from the needs and wants of people, from the appetitive portion of the people’s souls, that portion which Plato wants to be subjugated by the philosopher’s reason.

Whence the question arises: is the philosopher-king ever possible? History had an approximation of one: Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, or simply Marcus Aurelius, eminent Stoic philosopher and fifth and last emperor of Rome during her Pax Romana. So he might be an actual proof of the possibility of the Ideal State. But think again: Plato describes the philosopher-king as the perfect ruler. Hence he must be infallible in all judgment; this must be the case, since Plato suggests that the citizens must entrust all decisions to the philosopher-king, who with his wisdom cannot make a devastating decision. And yet Marcus Aurelius, despite his being a philosopher, made the biggest mistake in choosing his son, Lucius Commodus, to inherit his throne. Well-known was Commodus for satisfying all his and his soldier’s vices, so well-known that one would not think he belongs to the bloodline of a faithful Stoic. Perhaps Hadrian, third emperor of the Pax Romana, was wiser in requesting his chosen heir and fourth Pax Romana emperor Antoninus Pius to include the then young Marcus Aurelius in the latter’s choices for his heir to the throne. Hadrian was so wise to see in Marcus Aurelius’ young age the potential to become an able ruler of the huge Roman Empire. Thus, even if Marcus Aurelius was a philosopher-king, he wasn’t infallible.

But what Plato suggested in the Republic was a perfect philosopher-king. His trust in the philosopher-king’s wisdom was so great that in Book V, Plato exclaims through Socrates the Republic’s most outstanding passage: “Until philosophers are kings, or the kings and princes of this world have the spirit and power of philosophy, and political greatness and wisdom meet in one, and those commoner natures who pursue either to the exclusion of the other are compelled to stand aside, cities will never have rest from their evils—no, nor the human race, as I believe—and then only will this our State have a possibility of life and behold the light of day.” Indeed, can we entrust everything to a single man? Can we have faith in the existence of an infallible person? Can a man ever separate his wisdom from his appetite, his desires, given that all power is in his hands? If every man is imperfect, the State cannot entrust all political power to a single person. Otherwise we cannot watch out if at one instance he suddenly slips out of his wise lines and unexpectedly dwells in his selfish appetites. If every man is equally infallible, it must be better to entrust power to everyone equally likely to make a mistake. Moreover, I do not think the right to access the Truth and have power should be limited to a certain class of society. I will not argue about inequality or equality of men or whether there are natural superiors over natural inferiors; I will only rely on what Plato himself admitted in Book III: “But as all are of the same original stock, a golden parent will sometimes have a silver son, or a silver parent a golden son.” In fact, let me add that the most able ruler may emanate from the bottommost level of social hierarchy. So how can one limit power to a certain class of society?

In another point of view however, Plato might actually be referring to the “gold” people when he speaks of the Guardians. That is, he doesn’t speak of a particular family or class of people. He could be describing the Guardian class as the TYPE of people that should be trained towards the attainment of political wisdom, whether this guardian comes from artisan parents or whatsoever. And besides, what is Plato’s intention in writing the Republic? Is it really to oppose democracy in theory? Maybe not. Perhaps Plato was trying to oppose the particular kind of democracy that existed in Athens that time: that particular democracy that persecuted his most respected and beloved teacher Socrates. Perhaps Plato was attempting to say that Athenian democracy was in the hands of the wrong people: not that they are of the wrong class, but they are the wrong TYPE of people. They are not the worthy guardians, and they are not the best people who could handle the State most wisely. In his desire for a philosopher-king, Plato might be speaking of a wise and open-minded ruler that will know what is true and what is not, and not just someone who will blame the gods (who will eventually blame Socrates) for Athens’ loss to Sparta.

Still in another perspective, Plato might actually be sending an optimistic and pessimistic message in his Republic. He speaks of an Ideal State that can only occur when philosophers are kings or kings become philosophers. Then he is optimistic in saying that if the people could just let the wisest rule them, then they will be freed from strife, famine, wars, and the like. There is hope for change, and Plato describes the path to this change for the better. Meanwhile, he is pessimistic if he sees the ideal to be just the ideal; indeed, the ideal is much different from the actual. Plato might be an optimist in saying that the Ideal State is at least a model that we can approximate. In our approximation of the Ideal State, we may live in a good life close to the ideal. But he is a pessimist if he says that the ideal, the perfect, is unattainable and yet the ONLY sort of state that will uplift us from worldly miseries. As he emphasized in the Republic’s best known passage, we will never be at rest from evil unless we live in the Ideal State ruled by the philosopher-king. It is only in Plato’s imaginary utopia where we can live happily ever after; and imaginary as it is, we thus cannot escape reality’s pains and sufferings.

We shall never be sure of what Plato would have thought while writing the Republic. This dialogue could even be just a sentiment in response to his teacher’s execution. Observe in Book VII how Plato’s Allegory parallels Socrates’ fate, recalling that ascending to the light meant attaining wisdom and returning down in the underground abode meant returning to the pitiful world of chained men believing in shadows: “Men would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if anyone tried to loose another and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death.” But at least we are sure about Plato’s idealism: that he believes in one absolute Truth, and THAT Truth must govern all of us. That the Truth or wisdom will be attainable in a man’s lifetime might be a separate question for him. He only suggests what is perfect, but doesn’t inquire into the possibility of acquiring it. In fact, in Book V when Glaucon tells Socrates that “we are enquiring into the nature of absolute justice and into the character of the perfectly just … but not with any view of showing that they could exist in fact,” Socrates replies, “Would a painter be any worse because, after having delineated with consummate art an ideal of a perfectly beautiful man, he was unable to show that any such man could hav ever existed? Were we not creating an ideal of a perfect State? And is our theory a worse theory because we are unable to prove the possibility of a city being ordered in the manner described?” Indeed, Plato wasn't so concerned of the possibility of the Ideal State: Plato tells us, "Here is the ideal. If that could coincide with the actual is not my concern." The possibility of a philosopher-king, an Ideal State, then is our concern; we who always want to escape from life's sufferings and live in the happiness of the imaginary utopia.

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