Table Of ContentTHE PHILOSOPHER IN PLATO'S STATESMAN
MAR TINUS NIJHOFF CLASSICAL PHILOSOPHY
LIBRARY
VOLUME 2
I. Musings on the Meno: A new translation with commentary by
John E. Thomas. The Hague/Boston/London: Martinus Nijhoff
Publishers, 1980. ISBN 90-247-2121-0.
THE PHILOSOPHER IN
PLATO'S STATESMAN
by
MITCHELL H. MILLER, JR.
1980
MARTINUS NIJHOFF PUBLISHERS
THE HAGUE/BOSTON/LONDON
The distribution of this book is handled by the following team of publishers:
for the United States and Canada
Kluwer Boston, Inc.
160 Old Derby Street
Hingham, MA 02043
USA
for all other countries
Kluwer Academic Publishers Group
Distribution Center
P.O. Box 322
3300 AH Dordrecht
The Netherlands
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Miller, Mitchell H
The philosopher in Plato's Statesman.
(Martinus Nijhoff classical philosophy library; v.2)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
1. Plato. Politicus. I. Title. II. Series.
JC71.P314M54 321 .07 79-12659
ISBN-I3: 978-94-009-8792-0 e-ISBN-I3: 978-94-009-8790-6
001: 10.1007/978-94-009-8790-6
Copyright © 1980 by Martinus Nijhoff Publishers bv, The Hague.
Softcover reprint oft he hardcover 1st edition 1980
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored ina retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, photocopying, recording,
or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, Martinus Mjhoff Pub
lishers bv, P. O. Box 566, 2501 CN The Hague, The Netherlands.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This study has benefited from timely help, direct and indirect, from a nmnber of
friends. lowe deep thanks to Jonathan Ketchum, Tracy Taft, Michael Anderson,
William Yoder, and Marion Miller for work we shared through Oakstone Farm;
to Jesse Kalin, Michael McCarthy, and Michael Murray of Vassar College for
many provocative discussions; and to Mrs. Norma Mausolf for her exceptional
care and good spirits in preparing the typescript. I am also grateful for the
generous support which Vassar College, in the form of a year's sabbatical and a
grant from the Lucy Maynard Salmon Fund, has given me.
Above all, this work is for Chris.
M.H.M.
April 2, 1979
TABLE OF CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION: PROBLEMS OF INTERPRETATION ix
1. Difficulties in the 'standard view' x
2. An alternative heuristic thesis for interpretation xii
a. The essence of the dialogue xii
b. Formal treatise versus genuine dialogue xviii
3. The program for interpretation xix
I. THE DRAMATIC CONTEXT
1. Dramatic situation: the trial of Socrates 1
2. Dramatis personae: antipathy, eagerness, silence 3
a. Theodorus: geometry and philosophy 3
b. Young Socrates: the 'test to discover kinship' 5
c. The elder Socrates: silence and unheardness 8
3. The stranger from Elea 10
a. Judge and mediator 11
b. Alienation and mediation, some clues 12
(i) The mean 12
(li) The Homeric allusions: homecoming and disguise 12
(iii) The stranger's Parmenidean heritage: education and irony 13
4. The agreement to begin 14
II. THE INITIAL DIAIRESIS (258b-267c) 16
1. Formal structure of the method; the apparent accord (258b-261e) 16
2. Young Socrates' error; the value ofbifurcatory diairesis (261e-264b) 19
a. The refutation: halving and forms (261e-263b) 20
Note: panhellenist partisanship 22
b. The correction; the status of diairesis (263c-264b) 24
3. The closing bifurcations; jokes and problems (264b-267c) 28
III. THE DIGRESSIONS ON SUBSTANCE AND METHOD (267c-287b) 34
A. The first digression: the myth of the divine shepherd (267c-277a) 35
1. The stranger's objection (267c-268d) 35
2. The manifold function of the myth (268d-274e) 36
a. The logos of cosmic history 37
b. The critique of traditions 40
(1) Traditional images 40
(i) The Homeric 'shepherd of the people' and the Hesiodic 'age of Cronus'
40
(ii) Tyranny, democracy, and sophistic humanism 43
(iii) Re-emergence of the 'shepherd' 45
viii TABLE OF CONTENTS
(2) The stranger's critique 48
(i) The initial 'remembrance'; the ancient despot 48
(ii) 'Forgetfulness'; homo mensura and the new despotism 49
(iii) Philosophical recollection: deus mensura and the art of statesmanship 51
3. The revisions of the initial definition (274e-277a); young Socrates and the Academy
53
B. The second digression: paradigm and the mean (277a-287b) 55
1. The paradigm of paradigm (277a-279a) 57
2. The paradigm of the weaver (279a-283a) 59
3. The stranger's preventative doctrine of essential measure (283b-287b) 64
a. The diairetic revelation of 'essential measure' (283b-285c) 65
b. The purposes of the dialogue; its value as a paradigm for young Socrates (285c-
286b) 69
c. The application of essential measure (286b-287b) 71
IV. THE FINAL DIAIRESIS (287b-311c) 73
a. The change in the form of diairesis (287b ff.) 74
(i) The 'difficulty' and the new form 75
(ii) The self-overcoming of bifurcation 79
(iii) The stranger's - and Plato's - reticence 81
b. The first phase: the indirectly responsible arts, makers of instruments (287b-289c)
82
c. The second phase, part one: the directly responsible arts, subaltern servants (289c-
290e) 84
d. The digression: philosophy and ordinary opinion ; statesmanship and actual political
order (291a-303d) 86
(1) The sole true criterion; the statesman's episteme (291a-293e) 87
(2) The ways of mediation (293e-301a) 91
(i) Statesmanship and the law: the 'best' way and the 'ridiculousness' of the
doctrine of the many (293e-297c) 92
(ii) The 'imitative' polities: the 'second best' way and the relative justification
of the doctrine of the many (297c-301a) 95
(3) The return to the diaireses of polity; knowledge of ignorance and the political
means (301a-303d) 101
e. Resumption of the diairesis (second phase, part two): the true aides (303d-305e)
103
f. The third phase: the statesman as weaver; the virtues and the mean (305e-31lc)
106
(i) The application of the paradigm 106
(ii) The statesman's and the stranger's realizations of the mean 108
EPILOGUE: THE STATESMAN ITSELF AS A MEAN 114
NOTES 119
APPENDIX: STRUCTURAL OUTLINE OF THE STATESMAN 137
INDEX OF HISTORICAL PERSONS 139
INDEX OF REFERENCES TO PLATONIC PASSAGES 141
INTRODUCTION:
PROBLEMS OF INTERPRETATION
In contemporary writings on Plato it is almost commonplace to remark that he
is at once a profound philosopher and dramatist and teacher. Even by its form,
however, this remark may confess more about contemporary scholarship and
higher education than it reveals about Plato. In disCiplinary terms, philosophY,
literature, and pedagogy have been separated as distinct fields. The usual con
sequence for our study of Plato is that the correlative aspects of his dialogues -
roughly, their content, form, and communicative function - are approached in
isolation; and this, in tum, results in a significant diminution,ifnotconcealment,
of each. 'Content' comes to mean expressed doctrine, to the exclusion ofimplicit,
subsurface meaning which it is the function of expressed doctrine, within the
dramatically projected context, to suggest; 'form' is reduced to style and the
devices of stage-setting and portraiture which enliven, but have no internal
bearing on, doctrinal content; and the pedagogical 'function' of the dialogues
tends to disappear altogether, to be replaced (in our special studies of Plato as
an educator)1 by the expressed pedagogical doctrines of the Republic, Meno,
etc. In short, even when we know and remind ourselves of the integrity of these
elements, our modem scholarly predispositions, which begin from their separa
tion, make this integrity extremely difficult to grasp. And much is lost as a result.
Some of the dialogues have fared better than others in resisting these pre
dispositions. The philosophical interpreter of certain middle dialogues, especially,
can hardly overlook their rich dramatic character (one thinks of the Protagoras,
Symposium, and Gorgias) or focal pedagOgical thrust (the Meno and Phaedrus
come to mind). Yet this very prominence of form and function can lead to the
opposite problem, the emphasis of these to the exclusion of content. Many of
the early dialogues, especially, have suffered from this tendency. Their portraiture
and drama is so vivid, and their argumentation so pointedly elenchtic, that one
too easily reads them as mere drama or as m~re exercises in Socrates' negative
pedagogy, to the neglect of their philosophical substance.2 It is with the later
dialogues, however, that the difficulties are both most complex and most extreme.
There is a general consensus that Plato reaches a turning-point in his literary
and philosophical career around the time of the writing of the Theaetetus. He
seems to lose interest in the dramatic and to give us much more positive doctrine
than ever before. This is not to say that critics fail to note the artistic merit of
the later works, or at least, of many of them. (There is, in fact, some outspoken
criticism of the Sophist and Statesman as bad art.3) The masterly analyst of
Platonic rhetoric, Holger Thesleff, notes the development by the later Plato of
a style which, on account of its grave and august tone as well as its density and
complexity, he calls 'onkos.'4 The difficulty, however, is that Thesleff and
x INTRODUCTION
others in his discipline tend not to bring their studies to bear on the substance of
the dialogues. Conversely, philosophical interpreters have generally felt free to
approach the extensive logical and ontological, cosmological, and political
doctrines of the later dialogues without concern for questions of literary style
and form.s Given, moreover, the equally sharp distinction between the diSCiplines
of philosophy and cultural history, it has been too easy to treat this bulk of
doctrine without a pointed sense of the specific historical audience to which it
is addressed. As a result, the pervasive tendency has been the reverse of that
which has dominated the reading of the early dialogues: here we tend to neglect
drama and pedagogy and to focus exclusively on philosophical substance.
Both in general and particularly in regard to the later dialogues, the difficulty
is that our predispositions have the force of self-fulfilling prophecy. Are we sure
that the later Plato's apparent loss of interest in the dramatic is not, on the
contrary, a reflection of our limited sense of the integrity of drama and sub
stance, form and content? What we lack eyes for, of course, we will not see. The
basic purpose of this essay is to develop eyes, as it were, for that integrity. The
best way to do this, I think, is to take a later dialogue and to try to read it as a
whole of form, content, and communicative function. By going into one dia
logue, of course, we sacrifice some universality; my interpretation can only
exemplify the sort of approach which, I believe, is proper for all ofthe dialogues.
On the other hand, we gain in concreteness, and this is invaluable. The real dis
covery of predispositions occurs, paradoxically, in the effort to think beyond
them; likewise, it is hard to recognize our own onesidedness - or self-fulfilling
prophecy, as I just called it - without actually seeing an alternative. Program
matics and polemics are by themselves not very helpful.6
***
To introduce the project of interpretation I am proposing, it is useful to reflect
more focally on the general, more or less standard view of the later Plato which I
have questioned. This will give us the necessary context in which to define -
first negatively, then positively - the contrasting view which will serve as our
heuristic methodological basis for interpreting the Statesman.
1. DIFFICULTIES IN THE 'STANDARD VIEW'
What I call the 'standard view' of the later dialogues is very cogently arti
culated by A.E. Taylor.7 He singles out four basic features which distinguish
the later from the early and middle dialogues:
... (I) the dramatic element, though never wholly wanting, is reduced to a
minimum; (2) Socrates ... plays a minor part ... ; (3) the leading speaker in
every case has a very positive doctrine to teach ... ; (4) there is an increasing
tendency to employ a periodic style, quite unlike that of other dialogues ....
We are getting something much more like a formal treatise or essay.8
PROBLEMSQFINTERPRETATION xi
A general implication of these points is that the dialogue form, even while re
tained in its external features, has become an inadequate vehicle of expression
for Plato. He is now interested in advancing positive doctrine (3) in the more
direct, expository fashion of the 'treatise' (4), and the dramatization (1) of
socratic elenchtic (2) is superfluous, if not actually an obstacle, for this.9
What is questionable in this view? To put it generally, Taylor's observations
contain an immediate judgment and so run the risk of begging the question. (1)
In speaking of 'the dramatic element,' for instance, one must be sure not to
confuse one species with the thing itself. In the Statesman, for example, we shall
see that there is indeed very little of the explicit conflict between speakers which
is a hallmark of the drama of the aporetic and sophistic dialogues. But unless we
identify explicit antagonism with the dramatic element itself, this observation
does not tell us whether the dramatic element is being diminished or given a new
form.lO We must ask, in particular, whether a placid atmosphere expresses the
lack of conflict or its hidden presence. If the former, then perhaps drama is being
reduced; but if the latter, then it is becoming more subtle. (2) The same sort of
ambiguity affects the judgment that 'Socrates plays a minor part.' To focus on
the Statesman again, the explicit action tells us only that he falls silent. We must
therefore ask whether silence can have major dramatic significance. Is Socrates'
silence a minor part or a new and different kind of major part?l1 Both the early
and the middle dialogues (if we locate the Phaedo in the middle period) provide
evidence that silence can have important dramatic meaning. At Phaedo 84c
Socrates falls silent while Simmias and Cebes whisper together anxiously. This
expresses the disparity between Socrates' commitment to philosophy and the
doubt and uncertainty of his young interlocutors. He is absorbed in the logos
of the soul's immortality, whereas Simmias and Cebes, betraying materialist
doubts about the separate reality of the soul, are sharing objections to the
logoS.12 The opening passage in the Hippias Minor shows another sort of signifi
cant silence. While an excited crowd cheers the 'magnificent display' (363a ff.)
Hippias has just given, Socrates sits silent and unmoving. This symbolizes both
his objection to Hippias' sophistry and the alienation of dialectical philosophy
from it. Moreover, it makes him conspicuous and thus serves to puzzle the crowd
and draw its attention away from Hippias to himY The general implication of
these passages for our view of the later dialogues is to alert us to a question and a
task which Taylor's approach seems to miss. Before judging it 'minor,' we must
explore the significance of Socrates' silence in the dramatically projected con
text of (in our case) the Statesman.
(3), (4) Analogously, we would be jumping to conclusions if we presumed
that the stranger's 'very positive' teachings and expository style14 in the States
man signal Plato's abandonment of the negativity and indirectness characteristic
of earlier dialogues. There is, first of all, the obvious fact that Plato retains his
anonymity. We are not entitled to assume an immediate identity between Plato
and (in our dialogue) the Eleatic stranger. From the fact that the stranger speaks
positively, we cannot presume that Plato does; this must (if true) be shown. This
means, secondly, that we must interpret the stranger's positivity itself. We can
not even presume that he speaks directly, nor should we rule out in advance
that his positive teachings, once set and seen in the dramatically projected context
