The purpose of Plato’s Phaedrus

Hackforth says in the ‘Introduction’ to his translation of the Phaedrus that ‘it is not obvious, at a first reading, what its subject and purpose are, whether they are two or more, and if so how they are connected. Scholars, ancient and modern alike, have been puzzled on the point; Hermeias has a section of some length, before his commentary proper begins, on the doxai tou skopou [‘opinions concerning its aim’; skopos – ‘mark or object on which one fixes his eye’ LSJ]: some, he tells us, say it is Love, some Rhetoric, some the Good, some the prôton kalon [‘the first beautiful’, i.e. Beauty, the Form of beauty].’

Hackforth must be saying his ‘at a first reading’ with tongue-in-cheek, for he goes on to say that modern scholars ‘necessarily agree with and differ from each other in an infinite variety of combinations’ on this, and that he will state his own view ‘somewhat dogmatically, trusting to the commentary which follows to confirm it. I think it is helpful to ask for the purpose rather than the subject, and I believe there are three purposes, all important but one more important than others. They are: (1) To vindicate the pursuit of philosophy, in the meaning given to that word by Socrates and Plato, as the true culture of the soul (psuchês thearapeia), by contrast with the false claims of contemporary rhetoric to provide that culture. This I regard as the most important purpose.’ (Plato’s Phaedrus, Cambridge 1972, pp. 8-9)

I cannot find the concept of psuchês thearapeia in the Phaedrus. The verbal forms thearapeuein, therapeuesthai and therapeuthênai tên psuchên come to the fore in the Charmides (157a-b). Socrates maintains there that Charmides’ headaches can be properly treated only if one treats the soul prior to the head.

Equally, I cannot find Plato mentioning, let alone discussing ‘the false claims of contemporary rhetoric to provide that culture [of the soul]’ in the Phaedrus.

Phaedrus characterizes the claims of contemporary rhetoric as follows: ‘What I have heard is (Houtôsi peri toutou akêkoa) that the intending orator is under no necessity (ouk einai anankên tô̢ mellonti rêtori esesthai) of understanding what is truly just (ta tô̢ onti dikaia manthanein), but only what is likely to be thought just by the body of men who are to give judgement (alla ta doxant’ an plêthei hoiper dikasousi); nor need he know what is truly good or noble (oude ta ontôs dikaia kai kala), but what will be thought so (all’ hosa doxei); since it is on the latter, not the former, that persuasion depends (ek gar toutôn einai to peithein all’ ouk ek tês alêtheias).’ (259e7-260a4, tr. Hackforth)

Hackforth’s translation of the last phrase is misleading. C. J. Rowe translates correctly: ‘because persuasion comes from that and not from the truth’. Rhetoric is all about persuasion, even Plato’s proposal of rhetoric founded on dialectic is all about persuasion. The point he makes against the leading exponents of contemporary rhetoric is that one can aim at persuasion with confidence only if one knows the truth.

Hackforth’s second purpose is as follows: ‘(2) To make proposals for a reformed rhetoric, which should subserve the ends of philosophy and adopt its method.’

Pace Hackforth, I can’t see Plato in the Phaedrus making proposals for a reformed rhetoric ‘to subserve the ends of philosophy’. Plato proposes a reformed rhetoric founded on the knowledge of truth and thus capable of properly serving the city. The discussion that follows Phaedrus’ characterization of contemporary rhetoric is to the purpose.

Socrates: ‘Suppose I tried to persuade you (Ei se peithoimi egô) to acquire a horse to use in battle against the enemy (polemious amunein ktêsamenon hippon), and suppose that neither of us knew what a horse was (amphô de hippon agnooimen), but I knew this much about you (tosonde mentoi tunchanoimi eidôs peri sou), that Phaedrus believes a horse to be (hoti Phaidros hippon hêgeitai) that tame animal (to tôn hêmerôn zô̢ôn) which possesses the largest ears (megista echon ôta).’ – Phaedrus: ‘A ridiculous thing to suppose, Socrates (Geloion g’ an, ô Sôkrates, eiê).’ – S.: ‘Wait a moment (Oupô ge): suppose I continued to urge upon you in all seriousness (all’ hote dê spoudê̢ se peithoimi), with a studied encomium (suntitheis logon epainon) of a donkey (kata tou onou), that it was what I called it, a horse (hippon eponomazôn kai legôn): that it was highly important for you to possess the creature, both at home (hôs pantos axion to thremma oikoi te kektêsthai) and in the field (kai epi stratias): that it was just the animal to ride on in the battle (apopolemein te chrêsimon), and that it was handy, into the bargain, for carrying your equipment and so forth (kai pros g’ enenkein dunaton skeuê kai alla polla ôphelimon).’ – P.: ‘To go to that length would be utterly ridiculous (Pangeloion g’ an êdê eiê).’ – S. ‘Well, isn’t it better to be a ridiculous friend (ar’ oun ou kreitton geloion kai philon) than a clever enemy (ê deinon kai echthron;)?’ – P.: ‘I suppose it is (Phainetai).’ – S.: ’Then when a master of oratory (Hotan oun ho rêtorikos), who is ignorant (agnoôn) of good (agathon) and evil (kai kakon), employs his power of persuasion on a community as ignorant as himself (labôn polin hôsautôs echousan peithê̢), not by extolling a miserable donkey as being really a horse (mê peri onou skias hôs hippou ton epainon poioumenos), but by extolling evil as being really good (alla peri kakou hôs agathou): and when by studying the beliefs of the masses (doxas de plêthous memeletêkôs) he persuades them to do evil (peisê̢ kaka prattein) instead of good (ant’ agathôn), what kind of crop do you think his oratory is likely to reap from  the seed thus sown (poion tin’ an oiei meta tauta tên rêtorikên karpon hôn espeire therizein;)?’ – P.: ‘A pretty poor one (Ou panu ge epieikê).’

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Plato refrains from giving any examples of rhetoricians persuading the masses to do evil extolling it as good, but on the dating of the Phaedrus prior to the Charmides two disasters caused by oratory come to mind:

1) The illegal condemnation to death of generals who participated in the victorious battle of Arginousae and did not recover the shipwrecked; they were prevented from doing so by a severe storm (see Xenophon Hellenica I.vii.4 ff.). This incident must have been prominent on Plato’s mind, for Socrates was the only one of the Prytanes who opposed the illegality, as he mentions it in his Defence speech: ‘I gave my vote against you (enantia epsêphisamên); and when the orators threatened to impeach and arrest me (kai hetoimôn ontôn endeiknunai me kai apagein tôn rêtorôn), and you called (kai humôn keleuontôn) and shouted (kai boôntôn), I made up my mind that I would run the risk, having law and justice with me (meta tou nomou kai tou dikaiou ô̢mên mallon me dein diakinduneuein), rather than take part in your injustice (ê meth’ humôn genesthai mê dikaia bouleuomenôn) because I feared imprisonment (phobêthenta desmon) and death (ê thanaton, Pl. Apology 32b6c3, tr. B. Jowett).’

2) After the battle of Arginousae the Sparta wanted to make peace with Athens but through the intervention of Cleophon’s rhetorical trickery the offer was rejected (see Aristotle, Athênaiôn Politeia 34,1). To this disastrous intervention of Cleophon the Chorus of the Frogs alludes in its closing song, celebrating Aeschylus’ return to Athens from the underworld:

‘First (Prôta men), as the poet triumphant is passing away to the light, grant him success on his journey (euodian agathên apionti poiêtê̢ es phaos ornumenô̢ dote), yea powers that are ruling below (daimones hoi kata gaias). Grant that he find for the city good counsels to guide her aright (tê̢ te polei megalôn agathôn agathas epinoias); so we at last shall be freed from the anguish, the fear, and the woe, freed from the onset of war (panchu gar ek megalôn acheôn pausaimeth’ an houtôs argaleôn t’ en hoplois xunodôn). Let Cleophon now and his band battle, if battle they must, far away in their own fatherland (Kleophôn de machesthô k’allos ho boulomenos toutôn patriois en arourais, 1528-33, translation Rogers).’ (As Rogers points out, Cleophon’s mother was from Thrace.)

Rogers says that to ‘the condemnation of the victorious generals, and the execution of the six who ventured within the reach of the democracy, Aristophanes makes but one, and that a very faint and obscure, allusion. Aeschylus is considering whether it is right to predicate of Oedipus that he was ever deserving of the epithet eudaimôn [‘happy’, ‘blessed’, ‘of good fortune’]; and running through the various calamities of his life, he comes at last to the statement, he blinded himself, whereupon Dionysus at once cuts in with the remark –eudaimôn ar’ ên, ei k’astratêgêsen ge met’ Erasinidou [Rogers translates: ‘Happy indeed had he been Erasinides’ colleague!], meaning, I suppose, that had Oedipus been a colleague of Erasinides [one of the six executed generals] in the stratêgia [as a general], his blindness would have been a piece of good fortune. For then he would not have gone to the great battle, and so would not have fallen a victim to the machinations of Theramenes and the madness of people.’ (Rogers, op. cit., ‘Introduction’ pp. xiii-xiv)

The allusion may appear ‘very faint and obscure’ to the modern reader, but Aristophanes’ audience was well tuned to understand it, for Erasinides was the first general to be charged and imprisoned (Xenophon, Hellenica I.vi.2), and Dionysus’ viewing Oedipus’ blinding himself as a good fortune in comparison to the imprisoned and executed generals indicates the epic proportions of that tragedy. But I believe that there is another, hidden ‘allusion’ to that tragic event, in the song with which the Chorus of the Frogs celebrates Aeschylus’ victory and his return to Athens to save the city.

Aeschylus won the contest with Euripides because of his good thinking (eu phronein dokêsas), which showed him capable of bringing good to the citizens of Athens (ep’ agathô̢ men tois politais). His return from Hades to the city of Athens thus liberates one from ‘sitting around Socrates in vain talk, having thrown away mousikê’ (charien oun mê Sôkratei parakathêmenon lalein apobalonta mousikên, 1491-3) This invective against Socrates in fact testifies to Aristophanes’ high esteem of him. I believe that it was Socrates’ protest at the illegality of the sentencing of the generals that earned him the high respect that the Chorus thus grudgingly expresses.

Yet, the Chorus does not fail to characterize the ‘idle talk’ in which a man sitting around Socrates was engaged as that of the man who had lost his mind (paraphronountos andros, 1495-9). Plato could not but see himself thus inveighed together with Socrates; in response to Aristophanes’ attack he in the Phaedrus, in the Palinode on love, showed that ‘sitting by Socrates’ did not mean abandoning mousikê, but was conducive to its cultivation.

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Concerning Hackforth’s third purpose I have no criticism: ‘(3) To announce a special method of philosophy – the “dialectic” method of Collection and Division – and to exemplify this both positively (in the two speeches of Socrates) and negatively (in the speech of Lysias).’ (Loc. cit.)