The Euthyphro, Plato’s first dialogue, is often regarded as the
unloved precursor to his masterful Apology. Read the Euthyphro with a bit of understanding of his later philosophies and
a bit of thought about human nature, and a different picture emerges. The Euthyphro
is Plato’s argument against a sort of democratic thought – thought
that is prevalent in our time, and must have been so in his, in order to
justify this dialogue’s primary placement. The Euthyphro
is an argument against equality and the appeal the powerless have to a higher
moral authority.
It is fashionable, at least when
introducing them to the hoi polloi, to attempt to group Plato’s dialogues
into some set of chronology based upon when it is imagined that he wrote
them. Despite the seemingly
unimaginable absurdity of this project, certain of my betters have made the
attempt; and based upon the length, style, content, and attitude of the Euthyphro, very learned and important
people have decided that it is one of Plato’s earliest dialogues. This conclusion suits my argument
nicely, so I shall not challenge it, although I retain the right to think that
they are being silly. In actuality,
we do know the exact details about the correct order of Plato’s dialogues
from the one authoritative source in which they come down to us, the first
century CE Egyptian Platonist, Thrasyllus1. Thrasyllus did not leave us the
dialogues in the order in which they were written (which might be more helpful
to a researcher), but rather grouped them as a collection of lesson plans
(which is most helpful to students and teachers). The Thrasyllus canon groups
Plato’s dialogues into groups of four (tetralogies), of which the trial
and death of Socrates is first, and of the four dialogues in the first
tetralogy, the Euthyphro is
first. After reading, and re-reading
the Euthyphro, reading several books
on Plato’s politics, a good deal of the Platonic dialogues, and
re-reading the Euthyphro yet again, I
can see why Euthyphro deserves its
primacy. Euthyphro serves to both inform the new student of the ways of
thought in which one must engage in order to understand what follows, and
begins to indoctrinate him in the most fundamental beliefs necessary for the
establishment of the ideal proto-fascist state Plato would later describe more
fully in The Republic and The Laws.
We must read the ancients better
– there is an odious tendency to read them with naïve eyes while
proclaiming their greatness. Plato
was fundamentally a politician (or one could say a propagandist)2. Looking at our own politicians can give
us a sense of why we ought to read Plato more carefully. During the second debate in the 2004
U.S. Presidential Election, President Bush uttered what seemed to most
observers to be a fantastically odd comment regarding the 1857 Dred Scott
case. In essence, he announced that
he would not appoint judges who would uphold slavery. Most mainstream media outlets ignored
this comment, while a few liberal enclaves mocked it as just another example of
the President’s loose command of the issues. But to his pro-life supporters, this was
probably the most important statement that President Bush made during the
entire campaign. For at least the
past twenty years (and probably longer), Roe v. Wade has been equated with the
Dred Scott decision in activist pro-life circles. Nearly every pro-life voter in American
thought President Bush had promised to appoint only pro-life judges to the
Supreme Court if re-elected, despite the fact that Bush never uttered a word
about abortion during the campaign (and indeed, all of his statements from
previous campaigns would seem to indicate a preference for the status
quo). This is merely one recent
example of the power of coded language.Every racist knows what a politician means when they say they believe in
“States’s Rights”.
And every gay couple knows what the current chairman of the Democratic
Party means when he says he wants “Equal Rights for All
Americans”. For better or for
worse, people (and especially politicians) aren’t always honest about
their political opinions, especially if those opinions aren’t
particularly popular. Others have
done the heavy lifting on this point before me (most famously Popper, Russell,
and Stone), but let it suffice to say that Plato’s political opinions
were not very popular in democratic Athens.
It is foolishness, in light of
human behavioral tendencies, to assume that Plato was interested in being
truthful to his audience. It is
utter foolishness, considering the existence of anti-democratic secret
societies in Athens
(which Plato was probably a member of, and at least sympathized with), to think
that Plato was interested in being truthful to his audience. It is complete and total foolishness,
after reading Book Three of The Republic (in which Plato openly advocated lying
to anyone and everyone in order to maintain the State), even to entertain the
idea that Plato was interested in being truthful to his audience. With this justifiably skeptical attitude
in place, one approaches Plato’s dialogues with a differing attitude.
My initial impulse was to throw Plato’s dialogues onto the
bonfire and watch
his lies go up in smoke. But just
as I had earlier rescued
The Bible and the works of
The Brothers Grimm
(both, in their way,
treatises of human meanness), I grabbed Plato back as soon
as I threw him in, stamped out the burning embers, and tried to make sense of
him. No matter the vileness of the
books, they matter. History will
remember Plato long after
I am dead.
This recognition alone requires a conscientious student of history to
attempt to make some sense of Plato.
There’s also that other argument, that no matter how odious his
political beliefs may be, the
Philosophy (separated from the
Politics) is top
notch. I won’t argue that
Plato’s philosophical rigor isn’t first rate. But I will argue with any attempt to
separate it from his political beliefs.
One cannot separate
Protaroras’s belief in each individual’s
equality in matters of
epistemological judgment, from his belief in
democracy. One cannot separate
Hobbes’s belief in a
brutish state of nature from his belief in a
brutish
state of government. And one cannot
separate Plato from his Politics.
One should study the history, but be supremely skeptical of the philosophy. However, there is one more
consideration, a synthesis of these two: one must study the masterful
fabulist. We must examine Plato,
hopefully with
two open eyes. If we
should happen to find something of value there, whether of historical or
philosophical merit, then so much the better for us. If we should happen to find only lies,
then we shall become better at detecting lies from those less skilled than
Plato.
Others, more skilled than I, can
undoubtedly write at great length about the value and meaning of Plato’s
important dialogues. The great
political theorists have (and one should hope they continue to) analyzed the
Republic. But I am merely a
student, and so I shall start where students ought to start – at the Euthyphro. The Euthyphro
is usually taught either as its own entity, a fun little Platonic bedtime
snack, or as the irrelevant first part of the trial and death of Socrates.
In the first understanding of the Euthyphro, what is usually emphasized is
the dramatic assault that Socrates levies against Divine Command Theory, by way
of the extremely clever Euthyphro Dilemma.
It is, of course, very nice for introductory instructors to have
something nice and old and respectable to use to loosen up student’s
hardened religious beliefs with. This probably held true for the ancients
as well, and Euthyphro may owe its
place as number one in the Platonic canon to the helpfulness it offers teachers
and new students. But Plato is not
the least bit interested in destroying the Divine Command Theory. Indeed, Socrates will argue in the
Apology that he is merely following the will of the gods. In the Euthyphro, Plato is challenging a particular type of religious
belief, belief that is harmful to his politics.
The second understanding of the Euthyphro is as a footnote. Here we find the charges levied against
Socrates, and little else.
The long, rambling, inconclusive discussion that Euthyphro and Socrates
have regarding the nature of Piety can be dismissed as merely a long, rambling,
inconclusive discussion of the nature of Piety. The introduction of the charges against
Socrates itself is a long and winding discussion between Socrates and
Euthyphro, which can be summed up in one sentence: Socrates has been charged
with disbelief in the old gods and the creation of new gods; and he has
corrupted the youth of the city with these beliefs.
Both of these simplistic accounts
of the Euthyphro are flawed, but both
hold an element of truth for a more accurate interpretation of the Euthyphro. The Euthyphro
is the first dialogue of the first tetralogy, and the order matters. In each of the dialogues of the first
tetralogy (and arguably, in every one of his dialogues) Plato is attempting to
muster a defense of Socrates and an argument for the political system espoused
by his disciples. The ideas
contained within the Euthyphro will be
explored by more fully in later dialogues.
If one accepts that the Euthyphro
is one of Plato’s earlier written works, this can be seen to represent
the maturation of the author. But
regardless of the historical chronology, the Euthyphro represents (at least to the ancients) the proper starting
place for Platonist studies.
Plato’s defense of Socrates
is incredibly awkward. Plato cannot
argue, as one would prefer, that Socrates is innocent of the charges. Even in the Euthyphro, Socrates’s guilt is obvious – the disdain
with which he treats Euthyphro’s knowledge of the gods, and the clear
attempts to make Euthyphro doubt his faith are enough to make poor Euthyphro
beg off in the middle of their discussion.
Plato also cannot argue that Socrates was guilty, because he
doesn’t think Socrates deserved to die. Plato must argue that Socrates was right. Other writers and philosophers would
have an easier time with this problem, by challenging the legitimacy of the
court itself, and to a certain extent Plato does do this. But Plato’s views, being
fundamentally totalitarian, cannot challenge the authority of the civil courts. He only challenges those who
illegitimately run the machinery of the state, the citizens, not the
polis. Plato directly accomplishes
this task in The Apology, but before the civil authority is questioned, first
its moral and spiritual basis must be attacked. This is the job of the Euthyphro.
Something is odd from the very
beginning at the doorstep of the King Archon’s Court. We can gather from the dialogue that
this is the place where religious matters were settled in the ancient city of Athens. If we are unaware of Athens’s general history of religious
tolerance3 it
might seem understandable that Socrates was being charged with blasphemy or
heresy. But if this was the sort of
court that Socrates was to be prosecuted in, why then did Euthyphro come to
bring murder charges against his father to the same place? Murder, it seems, was also a religious
crime involving “pollution” of the body. The cases of Euthyphro’s
father’s crime and Socrates’ crime are intertwined in the argument
about Piety.
Euthyphro argues that his father
acted impiously in allowing a servant to die, and Socrates immediately
challenges him for the audacity to press charges against his own father. Note Socrates’ values here: he
challenges Euthyphro’s actions because Euthyphro is violating the Greek
caste structure in favor of an abstract principle. Euthyphro’s abstract principle is
a simple one: equality under the law.
Euthyphro bases this principle upon a very curious understanding of Greek
mythology. Euthyphro feels that the
will of the gods is that all people should face the same penalty for the same
crimes, even his own father. From our own vantage point, this is an
ideal necessary for the maintenance of civil society. It is necessary for a democratic
society, but is antithetical to the type of oligarchical totalitarian state
that Plato and Socrates admire.
Plato also cannot argue against all mystical or religious arguments
since he later will want to argue for the intellectual superiority of the
quasi-mystical philosopher. His
interest then, in the Euthyphro, to
prepare us for later arguments, is to attack the universality of mystical
principles. The Philosopher is best
fit to rule because he has access to a superior form of knowledge – this
statement cannot be accepted if one believes in some sort of universal piety
like Euthyphro espouses. Here one
finds the origins of the argument in favor of censorship found in Book III of
the Republic:
And observe, Socrates, that I can
cite powerful evidence that the law is so.
I have already said to others that such actions are right, not to favor
the ungodly, whoever they are.
These people themselves believe that Zeus is the best and most just of
the gods, yet they agree that he bound his father because he unjustly swallowed
his sons, and that he in turn castrated his father for similar reasons. (5e)
Belief in external standards of truth allow Euthyphro and
other Athenians like him a wide moral freedom of movement, with the only
limiting factor being the agreement of other Athenians.
Euthyphro represents one half of the democratic order that the totalitarian is forced to
confront – the moral half.
With Plato as an
umpire, Socrates is lucky enough to have a
buffoon as
an opponent in this first dialogue.
The central argument picked out of the
Euthyphro is often this passage:
Euthyphro: I would certainly say
that the pious is what all the gods love, and the opposite, what all the gods
hate, is the impious.
[…]
Socrates: Is the pious being loved
by the gods because it is pious, or is it pious because it is being loved by
the gods? (9e)
Plato thus avoids addressing Euthyphro’s actual
argument, that
there is such a thing as external moral truths accessible to
everyone in favor of a wandering argument that through its own absurdity seems
to invalidate Euthyphro’s original claim:
every person is morally
deserving of equal treatment. Plato
never attacks the idea of equality in this dialogue, because attacking the
moral underpinning was more important, and most of his audience would have
assumed the servant was less important than the father. But by undermining Euthyphro’s
fanciful idea of equality between a
plantation owner and a servant, Plato
launches his first assault against the equality between citizens. He thus paves the way for his dream oligarchical
state ruled by
elitist aristocrats calling themselves philosophers.
Near the end of the dialogue, however, Euthyphro does come close to answering
Socrates’ challenge:
Euthyphro: I told you a short while
ago, Socrates, that it is a considerable task to acquire any precise knowledge
of these things, but to put it simply, I say that if a man knows how to say and
do what is pleasing to the gods at prayer and sacrifice, those are pious
actions such as preserve both private houses and public affairs of state. The opposite of these pleasing actions
are impious and overturn and destroy everything.
[…]
Socrates: Piety then would be a
sort of trading skill between gods and men?
This back and forth continues for a few lines, and then
Socrates intentionally misrepresents the argument that Euthyphro (and presumably
Athenian contemporaries of Plato) is trying to make. Socrates’ rhetorical skills return
the debate to Piety merely being what is pleasing to the gods, which so
frustrates Euthyphro that he leaves Socrates. But since this dialogue was written by
Plato with an eye to addressing his contemporary political situation, there is
enough truth within it to find the real argument a more able Euthyphro could
have made: Piety is a relationship
with the gods.
This relationship implies two
things. The first is an offered
understanding of advanced moral principles. As Euthyphro states earlier in the
dialogue:
Euthyphro: I think, Socrates, that
the godly and the pious is the part of the just that is concerned with the care
of the gods, while that concerned with the care of men is the remaining part of
justice. (12e)
Now it may be that the remaining part of justice is quite
small4,
as the events of men and the gods are so often intertwined, but Euthyphro seems
to want to argue that piety is advancement beyond simple interpersonal
relations. The second implied
principle is devastating to Plato if believed to be true by a large enough
portion of the populace: all men have access to the gods. All men can pray and attempt to receive
guidance from the gods in these moral matters. The artificial edifice of the
Philosopher Kings cannot be created or even argued for if all have equal access
to the sort of moral guidance Plato would like to reserve for his rulers. “Is the pious being loved by the
gods because it is pious, or is it pious because it is being loved by the
gods?” This question,
believed by many to be the central question of the Euthyphro, is missing the point. Euthyphro originally answered the
question by saying that the pious is loved by the gods because it is
pious. If this is the case, then
why involve the gods in the pious at all, why not just study justice? To this, one must answer Plato: because
the gods help and guide us, so that we may protect ourselves from tyrants like
you.
1. John M. Cooper, editor, Plato Complete Works (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1997)
2. Plato’s Letter VII describes his youthful desire to hold political
office, and his subsequent decision to stay out of the messy business.
3. In actuality, Athens, like most polytheistic societies, was far more tolerant of diverging religious
beliefs than most monotheistic societies. Athens never passed laws expressly
allowing religious freedom because (except in the curious case of Socrates) Athens did not charge
citizens with religious thought crimes.
4. A negotiation between my roommate and me regarding the rent is generally a simple
matter, and does not concern greater principles. But if we should happen to disagree
substantially, we might argue based upon larger moral principles of reciprocity
and honoring one’s word. In
the first case we are acting justly, without necessitating piety. In the second, an understanding of piety
might be required to properly resolve our disagreement.