On January
16, I asked the Director of the Institute for Philosophy and Religion at the
Faculty of Philosophy at Charles University in Prague to consider organizing an
international seminar commemorating the 40th anniversary of the
first Oxford lecture – by Dr Kathleen Wilkes – in my Philosophy seminar in
Prague. I informed him that I would like to present at the seminar a paper on
‘Plato’s first two dialogues, a reflection of his political hopes’, which I had
put on my website. I haven’t received any response to my proposal, and so I
should like to say a few words to justify my making it.
The visits
of foreign academics deeply influenced the subsequent political development in
my country. This is well documented in Roger Scruton’s ‘A catacomb culture’
published in the TLS of February
16-22 1990 (it is available on my website). Let me quote a few passages from it:
‘Following the example set By Kathleen Wilkes – an Oxford philosopher of
intrepid character – academics began to visit their Czechoslovak colleagues,
many of whom they met in the seminar organized by Julius Tomin. The visiting
continued for little more than a year, during which period many people,
including the Master of Balliol College, were summarily expelled from
Czechoslovakia. The publicity-conscious Tomin then emigrated … and a small sum
of money had been given for the relief of our Czechoslovak colleagues. Four of
the visitors who had visited Dr Tomin’s seminar – Kathleen Wilkes, Alan
Montefiore, Bill Newton-Smith and myself – used this money to establish an
educational trust. We decided that, although our purpose was charitable, and in
violation of neither English nor Czechoslovak law, it should not be openly
pursued, and we could henceforth best help our Czechoslovak colleagues by
working secretly … we won the confidence of a large network of people, none of
whom knew the full extent of out operations … we were able to set up a network
of secret classes – not only in Bohemia, but also in Moravia and Slovakia …
Many of our visitors were extremely well known in their own countries … We also
encouraged our French, German, American and Canadian colleagues to establish
sister trusts, thereby acquiring an international dimension … In the mid-1980s,
thanks to a generous grant from George Soros (who will surely be commemorated
in future years, not only as a great Hungarian patriot, but also as one of the
saviours of Central Europe), we had expanded into Moravia … Last summer,
however, the organizer of our work in Slovakia, Ján Čarnogurský was arrested … But the blessed Agnes
of Bohemia had just been canonized, and it was a time of miracles. Two weeks
later Čarnogurský was
released under an amnesty and made Deputy Prime Minister of his country … By
then another of our beneficiaries was President, and within weeks we were to
see our friends occupying the highest offices in the land … Among those who had
worked with us we could count the new rectors of the Charles University, of the
Masaryk University (as it was once again called) in Brno, and of the Palacký
University in Olomouc.’
In ‘Plato’s first two dialogues, a
reflection of his political hopes’ I argue that Plato wrote the Phaedrus in 405 and the Charmides in 404 B.C. In doing so I am
at variance with platonic scholarship according to which the Phaedrus is a late dialogue and Plato
began to write dialogues only after Socrates’ death, that is after 399 B.C. My
interest in the dating of the Phaedrus
goes back to the lecture that Dr Anthony Kenny, the Master of Balliol College
gave – or rather wanted to give, for it was interrupted by the police – in my
seminar in April 1980.
Dr
Kenny came to my flat about half an hour before the start of the seminar. He
said he wanted to discuss two passages, one from Aristotle's Eudemian Ethics and one from the Nicomachean Ethics: ‘Julius, would you
translate these two passages for your students at the beginning of the
seminar?’ I was relieved when I looked at the Nicomachean passage (10th
book, 177a12-b6); I had it heavily underlined and marked by an exclamation
mark. Though I had not read it for years, I was confident I could manage
translating it without any preparation. I began to sweat when I saw the lengthy
Eudemian passage (1218b31-1219a39); I never read the Eudemian Ethics, and so I excused myself and retired to the
kitchen. I barely managed to read the text once when my wife summoned me: ‘You
must come, the room is packed.’
Kenny
opened his talk by explaining that he was going to discuss two passages of
Aristotelian Ethics. Then he turned to me: ‘Julius, would you translate those
two passages?’ I replied: ‘Tony, I shall read each sentence aloud in Greek and
then translate it in Czech.’ When I finished reading and translating those two
passages, Kenny argued that in the Nicomachean passage happiness consists in
the contemplative activity and philosophy thus becomes the primary source of
happiness, whereas in the Eudemian passage happiness consists of an ideal
functioning of every part of the soul. The Eudemian conception is thus critical
of the Nicomachean conception: ‘From the Eudemian perspective only the person
called upon to do philosophy is entitled to pursue it. A person not called upon
to pursue philosophy, and yet persisting in doing so, is not a good man, he is
a bad man.’ That’s how I remember Kenny’s words and remember thinking: ‘The
communist regime did not call upon me to do philosophy, and I would not like to
be in a situation in which my doing philosophy should depend on Kenny’s calling
upon me to do it.’ [In The Aristotelian
Ethics (Oxford, 1878, p. 214) Kenny wrote: ‘A person who organized his life
entirely with a view to the promotion of philosophical speculation would be not
wise but cunning, not phronimos but panourgos. The type of person whom many
regard as the hero of the Nicomachean
Ethics turns out, by the standards of the Eudemian Ethics, to be a vicious
and ignoble character.’]
When
I translated Kenny’s words, ‘I had to exchange the role of an interpreter for
the role of a discussion partner [I’m quoting the “Pursuit of Philosophy”, in
which I discuss Kenny’s visit in my seminar. It was published in 1984 in History of Political Thought, vol. V, No
3; it is available on my website.]: 'In the Nicomachean
Ethics Aristotle considers the life of philosophy to be the source of happiness
because the activity of intellect is the highest one. Why should I see it
opposed to the ideal functioning of the other parts of the soul in the Eudemian Ethics? May not Aristotle be
pointing in the direction of the theory fully developed in the tenth book of
the Nicomachean Ethics when he says
in our Eudemian passage: “The End (telos)
is the best as being an End, since it is assumed as being the best and
ultimate, for the sake of which all the other things exist?” (1219a8-9) In the Nicomachean Ethics Aristotle puts
forward reasons why philosophy is the accomplished source of good life, he
points to its being most continuous and independent of external circumstances.
Even if deprived of exchanging ideas with his colleagues (sunergoi) he may continue doing philosophy (1177a12-b1). This is
especially important for us in Prague who may face imprisonment any day. It
further reminds me of Socrates. In the Apology
he says: “as long as I live and as long as I am able to I will not stop doing
philosophy” (29d).'
Kenny
did not oppose the ‘Socratic’ interpretation of the Nicomachean passage. He
questioned instead the philosophical credentials of Socrates. Wouldn’t I
consider Plato a much better philosopher? I could not accept the question as
simply as that. How can I accept that Plato was a better philosopher if Plato
is full of Socrates? It would prejudice my reading Plato. While reading the
dialogues I try to understand what was Socrates’ philosophy that it gave him
strength to do philosophy “as long as he breathed”. But should I not better return to my role of an
interpreter? – At this point dozens of uniformed and plain-clothed policemen
stormed into the room.’
This
was the last time I could see my students. From then on we were all detained in
police custody for 48 hours every Wednesday, each time we intended to have a
seminar. After several such attempts I told the police I stopped the seminar.
Having been invited by the Master of Balliol to come to Oxford and by Trinity
College to come to Cambridge, I asked for five years leave to study abroad.
(Here I must correct Scruton; I refused to emigrate.)
In
May 1980 Dr Wilkes revisited Prague. She was anxious to know what happened
during Dr Kenny’s visit. I told her that when Kenny suggested that Plato was a
dubious character but a very good philosopher whereas Socrates was a good man
but a poor philosopher, I said that he obviously made such a cut through
Plato’s dialogues that he viewed as Socratic those dialogues that were in his
view below the level of great philosophy, but in the dialogues that presented
philosophy he considered to be great he saw Plato’s philosophy: ‘I don’t make
any such cut through Plato’s dialogues’. After giving Kathy this account, I
said: ‘Diogenes Laertius says in his ‘Life of Plato’ that the Phaedrus was Plato’s first dialogue. In
all my reading of Plato I had not come across anything that might prejudice me
against that ancient information.’ Kathy replied: ‘The Phaedrus can’t be Plato’s first dialogue!’ I suggested that she
should come to us for a month before our leaving Prague for Oxford so that we
might read the dialogue together, and see. Kathy succeeded in getting a grant
for July-August, and so we read the Phaedrus
together. This joint reading convinced me that the ancient tradition should not
be rejected off hand. – I later
learned that Kathy had to give back the grant she received for the
month of our joint reading of the Phaedrus.
In
April 1997 an international symposium on The
Significance of the Republic and the Laws in Plato’s thought was convened.
At that Symposium I presented a paper entitled Joining the Beginning to the End in which I argued that throughout
the Laws Plato often dwelt in his
mind on the Phaedrus, his first
dialogue. Let me quote a passage from it:
‘In
the fifth book the Athenian Stranger asks what character one must have if one
is to lead the best and most noble life (poios
tis ȏn autos an
kallista diagagoi ton bion, 730b3-4),
and how one is to be led and educated (730b5-c1). He answers his own question
by pointing to truth as the guiding principle of everything good for gods and
for men (alȇtheia dȇ pantȏn men agathȏn theois hȇgeitai, pantȏn de anthrȏpois, 730c1-2). He intimates that a man who is to be blessed and happy (makarios te kai eudaimȏn)
ought to partake of the truth straight at the beginning (ex archȇs euthus) so as to live as a true man throughout a prolonged
life (hina hȏs pleiston chronon alȇthȇs ȏn diabioi, 730c2-4).’
At
the end of the Symposium it was decided that the next Czech Symposium, in 1998,
should be on the Meno (if I remember)
and the next international Symposium should be on the Phaedo. At the meeting of the Czech Platonic Society, which
followed the Meno symposium, it was
decided that the next but one International Symposium should be on the Phaedrus. But to my surprise, at the
beginning of the International Symposium on the Phaedo Aleš Havlíček, the organizer, announced that at the end of
the Symposium we must decide whether the next International Symposium should be
on the Phaedrus or Philebus. I did not say anything. But
when at the end of the symposium Aleš Havlíček announced that we must decide
whether the next International Symposium was to be on the Philebus or Protagoras I
asked on what ground the decision of the Czech Platonic Society from 1998 was
put aside without any explanation. Aleš Havlíček began to answer my question in
Czech. I protested: ‘Aleš, speak In English, please, so that
everybody can understand’. He disregarded my intervention and again began to
speak in Czech. I interrupted him again: ‘In English, please.’ At that point he
sat down and left my question unanswered. – I was subsequently informed that Havlíček was
told that if the Czech Platonic Society insisted on the Phaedrus as the theme of the next International Symposium, the
financial support accorded for the International Symposia would be withdrawn.
The first
part of the Pursuit of Philosophy is
entitled ‘To Resume an Interrupted Discussion’. To this day, in spite of all my
efforts, I did not succeed in having any discussion of the dating of the Phaedrus with Platonic scholars. Let me
hope that the approaching 40th anniversary of the first Oxford
lecture in my seminar inspires the Czech philosophers to organise the
International Seminar I have proposed.
In an effort to underpin my proposal, I asked the Publishing house OIKOYMENH to allow me to put the article ‘Joining the beginning to the end’on my website. I was granted the permission, but my computer (or my printer) refused to cooperate. After futile efforts to make the computer/printer work, my daughter took her smart phone, photographed the article page by page, sent it to me by email, and so we succeeded in putting it on my website. Let me end by quoting its first two paragraphs:
In an effort to underpin my proposal, I asked the Publishing house OIKOYMENH to allow me to put the article ‘Joining the beginning to the end’on my website. I was granted the permission, but my computer (or my printer) refused to cooperate. After futile efforts to make the computer/printer work, my daughter took her smart phone, photographed the article page by page, sent it to me by email, and so we succeeded in putting it on my website. Let me end by quoting its first two paragraphs:
‘A stranger
from Athens, Cleinias from Crete, and Megillus from Sparta walk along the road
from the Cretan city of Cnossus to the cave and temple of Zeus. The Athenian
Stranger asks about the divine provenance of the laws in Crete and in Sparta,
and his fellow travellers are happy to answer his queries. The journey promises
to be agreeable, for along the road there will be convenient shady places under
the lofty trees where they can relax; this is emphasized as important, for they
are old, all three of them, and the heat of the day is upon them (pnigous ontos ta nun, 625b3).
This is the
opening scene of the Laws. It reminds
the reader of the Phaedrus; there too
the discussion takes place in the countryside, Socrates feels himself a
stranger (230c), he and Phaedrus enjoy the shade of a lofty tree (230b), and
the heat of the day is upon them (en tȏi pnigei, 258e7).
Thesleff noticed the similarity and inferred from it that Plato began to write
the Laws shortly after the Phaedrus. The ancient tradition
according to which the Phaedrus was Plato’s first dialogue invites a different
explanation: when Plato in his old age embarked on writing the Laws he returned in his thoughts to his
first work.’
