The Republic
In such a state of society the master fears and flatters his scholars,
and the scholars despise their masters and tutors; young and old are
all alike; and the young man is on a level with the old, and is ready
to compete with him in word or deed; and old men condescend to the
young and are full of pleasantry and gaiety; they are loth to be
thought morose and authoritative, and therefore they adopt the manners
of the young.
Quite true, he said.
The last extreme of popular liberty is when the slave bought with
money, whether male or female, is just as free as his or her purchaser;
nor must I forget to tell of the liberty and equality of the two sexes
in relation to each other.
Why not, as Aeschylus says, utter the word which rises to our lips?
That is what I am doing, I replied; and I must add that no one who does
not know would believe, how much greater is the liberty which the
animals who are under the dominion of man have in a democracy than in
any other State: for truly, the she-dogs, as the proverb says, are as
good as their she-mistresses, and the horses and asses have a way of
marching along with all the rights and dignities of freemen; and they
will run at any body who comes in their way if he does not leave the
road clear for them: and all things are just ready to burst with
liberty.
When I take a country walk, he said, I often experience what you
describe. You and I have dreamed the same thing.
And above all, I said, and as the result of all, see how sensitive the
citizens become; they chafe impatiently at the least touch of
authority, and at length, as you know, they cease to care even for the
laws, written or unwritten; they will have no one over them.
Yes, he said, I know it too well.
Such, my friend, I said, is the fair and glorious beginning out of
which springs tyranny.
Glorious indeed, he said. But what is the next step?
The ruin of oligarchy is the ruin of democracy; the same disease
magnified and intensified by liberty overmasters democracy—the truth
being that the excessive increase of anything often causes a reaction
in the opposite direction; and this is the case not only in the seasons
and in vegetable and animal life, but above all in forms of government.
True.
The excess of liberty, whether in States or individuals, seems only to
pass into excess of slavery.
Yes, the natural order.
And so tyranny naturally arises out of democracy, and the most
aggravated form of tyranny and slavery out of the most extreme form of
liberty?
As we might expect.
That, however, was not, as I believe, your question—you rather desired
to know what is that disorder which is generated alike in oligarchy and
democracy, and is the ruin of both?
Just so, he replied.
Well, I said, I meant to refer to the class of idle spendthrifts, of
whom the more courageous are the leaders and the more timid the
followers, the same whom we were comparing to drones, some stingless,
and others having stings.
A very just comparison.
These two classes are the plagues of every city in which they are
generated, being what phlegm and bile are to the body. And the good
physician and lawgiver of the State ought, like the wise bee-master, to
keep them at a distance and prevent, if possible, their ever coming in;
and if they have anyhow found a way in, then he should have them and
their cells cut out as speedily as possible.
Yes, by all means, he said.
Then, in order that we may see clearly what we are doing, let us
imagine democracy to be divided, as indeed it is, into three classes;
for in the first place freedom creates rather more drones in the
democratic than there were in the oligarchical State.
That is true.
And in the democracy they are certainly more intensified.
How so?
Because in the oligarchical State they are disqualified and driven from
office, and therefore they cannot train or gather strength; whereas in
a democracy they are almost the entire ruling power, and while the
keener sort speak and act, the rest keep buzzing about the bema and do
not suffer a word to be said on the other side; hence in democracies
almost everything is managed by the drones.
Very true, he said.
Then there is another class which is always being severed from the
mass.
What is that?
They are the orderly class, which in a nation of traders is sure to be
the richest.
Naturally so.
They are the most squeezable persons and yield the largest amount of
honey to the drones.
Why, he said, there is little to be squeezed out of people who have
little.
And this is called the wealthy class, and the drones feed upon them.
That is pretty much the case, he said.
The people are a third class, consisting of those who work with their
own hands; they are not politicians, and have not much to live upon.
This, when assembled, is the largest and most powerful class in a
democracy.
True, he said; but then the multitude is seldom willing to congregate
unless they get a little honey.
And do they not share? I said. Do not their leaders deprive the rich of
their estates and distribute them among the people; at the same time
taking care to reserve the larger part for themselves?
Why, yes, he said, to that extent the people do share.
And the persons whose property is taken from them are compelled to
defend themselves before the people as they best can?
What else can they do?
And then, although they may have no desire of change, the others charge
them with plotting against the people and being friends of oligarchy?
True.
And the end is that when they see the people, not of their own accord,
but through ignorance, and because they are deceived by informers,
seeking to do them wrong, then at last they are forced to become
oligarchs in reality; they do not wish to be, but the sting of the
drones torments them and breeds revolution in them.
That is exactly the truth.
Then come impeachments and judgments and trials of one another.
True.
The people have always some champion whom they set over them and nurse
into greatness.
Yes, that is their way.
This and no other is the root from which a tyrant springs; when he
first appears above ground he is a protector.
Yes, that is quite clear.
How then does a protector begin to change into a tyrant? Clearly when
he does what the man is said to do in the tale of the Arcadian temple
of Lycaean Zeus.
What tale?
The tale is that he who has tasted the entrails of a single human
victim minced up with the entrails of other victims is destined to
become a wolf. Did you never hear it?
Oh, yes.
And the protector of the people is like him; having a mob entirely at
his disposal, he is not restrained from shedding the blood of kinsmen;
by the favourite method of false accusation he brings them into court
and murders them, making the life of man to disappear, and with unholy
tongue and lips tasting the blood of his fellow citizens; some he kills
and others he banishes, at the same time hinting at the abolition of
debts and partition of lands: and after this, what will be his destiny?
Must he not either perish at the hands of his enemies, or from being a
man become a wolf—that is, a tyrant?
Inevitably.
This, I said, is he who begins to make a party against the rich?
The same.
After a while he is driven out, but comes back, in spite of his
enemies, a tyrant full grown.
That is clear.
And if they are unable to expel him, or to get him condemned to death
by a public accusation, they conspire to assassinate him.
Yes, he said, that is their usual way.
Then comes the famous request for a body-guard, which is the device of
all those who have got thus far in their tyrannical career—‘Let not the
people’s friend,’ as they say, ‘be lost to them.’
Exactly.
The people readily assent; all their fears are for him—they have none
for themselves.
Very true.
And when a man who is wealthy and is also accused of being an enemy of
the people sees this, then, my friend, as the oracle said to Croesus,
‘By pebbly Hermus’ shore he flees and rests not, and is not ashamed to
be a coward.’
And quite right too, said he, for if he were, he would never be ashamed
again.
But if he is caught he dies.
Of course.
And he, the protector of whom we spoke, is to be seen, not ‘larding the
plain’ with his bulk, but himself the overthrower of many, standing up
in the chariot of State with the reins in his hand, no longer
protector, but tyrant absolute.
No doubt, he said.
And now let us consider the happiness of the man, and also of the State
in which a creature like him is generated.
Yes, he said, let us consider that.
At first, in the early days of his power, he is full of smiles, and he
salutes every one whom he meets;—he to be called a tyrant, who is
making promises in public and also in private! liberating debtors, and
distributing land to the people and his followers, and wanting to be so
kind and good to every one!
Of course, he said.
But when he has disposed of foreign enemies by conquest or treaty, and
there is nothing to fear from them, then he is always stirring up some
war or other, in order that the people may require a leader.
To be sure.
Has he not also another object, which is that they may be impoverished
by payment of taxes, and thus compelled to devote themselves to their
daily wants and therefore less likely to conspire against him?
Clearly.
And if any of them are suspected by him of having notions of freedom,
and of resistance to his authority, he will have a good pretext for
destroying them by placing them at the mercy of the enemy; and for all
these reasons the tyrant must be always getting up a war.
He must.
Now he begins to grow unpopular.
A necessary result.
Then some of those who joined in setting him up, and who are in power,
speak their minds to him and to one another, and the more courageous of
them cast in his teeth what is being done.
Yes, that may be expected.
And the tyrant, if he means to rule, must get rid of them; he cannot
stop while he has a friend or an enemy who is good for anything.
He cannot.
And therefore he must look about him and see who is valiant, who is
high-minded, who is wise, who is wealthy; happy man, he is the enemy of
them all, and must seek occasion against them whether he will or no,
until he has made a purgation of the State.
Yes, he said, and a rare purgation.
Yes, I said, not the sort of purgation which the physicians make of the
body; for they take away the worse and leave the better part, but he
does the reverse.
If he is to rule, I suppose that he cannot help himself.
What a blessed alternative, I said:—to be compelled to dwell only with
the many bad, and to be by them hated, or not to live at all!
Yes, that is the alternative.
And the more detestable his actions are to the citizens the more
satellites and the greater devotion in them will he require?
Certainly.
And who are the devoted band, and where will he procure them?
They will flock to him, he said, of their own accord, if he pays them.
By the dog! I said, here are more drones, of every sort and from every
land.
Yes, he said, there are.
But will he not desire to get them on the spot?
How do you mean?
He will rob the citizens of their slaves; he will then set them free
and enrol them in his body-guard.
To be sure, he said; and he will be able to trust them best of all.
What a blessed creature, I said, must this tyrant be; he has put to
death the others and has these for his trusted friends.
Yes, he said; they are quite of his sort.
Yes, I said, and these are the new citizens whom he has called into
existence, who admire him and are his companions, while the good hate
and avoid him.
Of course.