Diogenes Laertius in his Lives of eminent philosophers gives two dates of Plato’s birth. At III 2 he says: ‘Apollodorus in his Chronology fixes the date of Plato’s birth in the 88th Olympiad (Kai ginetai Platȏn, hȏs phȇsin Apollodȏros en Chronikois, ogdoȇi kai ogdoȇkostȇi Olumpiadi) [that is in the year 427 B.C.], on the seventh day of the month Thargelion (Thargȇliȏnos hebdomȇi), the same day which the Delians say that Apollo himself was born (kath’ hȇn Dȇlioi ton Apollȏna genestha phasi).’
At III 3 he
says that Plato was born in the archonship of Ameinias, in the year of
Pericles’ death, i.e in 429 B.C.
J.K. Davies
in Athenian Propertied Families warns about mythologizing influences on
calculations of Plato’s life: one was the desire that Plato be born in the year
of Pericles’ death, 430/29. Another was to give Plato a precise Apolline date
of birth, 7 Thargelion of the 88 Olympiad. (Cf. Debra Nails, The People of
Plato, p. 243).
***
I shall try
to establish the date of Plato’s birth with the help of the opening passages of
Plato’s Seventh Letter, in which he narrates the events that led to his
leaving Athens and going ‘to Italy and Sicily’ (eis Italian te kai Sikelian,
326b5) when he was about forty (shedon tettarakonta etȇ gegonȏs, 324a5-6). He commences his narrative with the words
‘In the days of my youth (Neos egȏ pote ȏn)
my experience was the same as that of many others (pollois dȇ t’auton epathon). I thought (ȏiȇthȇn) that as soon as I should become my own master (ei
thatton emautou genoimȇn kurios) I would immediately enter into
public life (epi ta koina tȇs poleȏs euthus ienai). But it so happened, I found, that the following changes
occurred in the political situation (kai moi tuchai tines tȏn tȇs poleȏs pragmatȏn toiaide parepeson).
In the
government then existing, reviled as it was by many, a revolution took place (hupo
pollȏn gar tȇs tote politeias loidoroumnȇs metabolȇ gignetai); and the revolution was headed by fifty-one
leaders (kai tȇs metabolȇs heis kai pentȇkonta andres proustȇsan archontes), of whom eleven were in the City (hendeka men en astei)
and ten in the Piraeus (deka d’ en Peiraiei) [one of the ten in Piraeus
was Plato’s uncle Charmides] – each of these sections dealing with the market (peri
te agoran hekateroi toutȏn) and with all principal matters requiring management (hosa
t’ en tois astesi dioikein edei) – and Thirty were established as
irresponsible leaders of all (triakonta de pantȏn archontes katestȇsan autokratores). Now of these some were actually connexions
and acquaintances of mine (toutȏn de tines oikeioi te ontes kai gnȏrimoi etunchanon emoi); and indeed they invited me at once to join their
administration, thinking it would be congenial (kai dȇ kai parekaloun euthus hȏs epi prosȇkonta pragmata me).
The feelings
I then experienced, owing to my youth, were in no way surprising (kai egȏ thaumaston ouden epathon hupo neotȇtos):
for I imagined (ȏiȇthȇn gar autous) that they would administer the
State by leading it out of an unjust way of life into a just way (ek tinos
adikou biou epi dikaion tropon agontas dioikȇsein dȇ tȇn polin), and consequently I gave my mind to them very diligently (hȏste autois sphodra proseichon ton noun), to see what they would do (ti
praxoien). And indeed I saw how these men (kai horȏn dȇpou tous andras) within a short time (en chronȏi oligȏi) caused men to look back on the former government as
a golden age (chruson apodeixantas tȇn emprosten politeian); and above all (ta te alla kai)
how they treated my aged friend Socrates (philon andra emoi presbuteron Sȏkratȇ), whom I would hardly scruple (hon
egȏ schedon ouk an aischunoimȇn)
to call the most just of men then living (eipȏn dikaiotaton einai tȏn tote), when they tried to send him, along
with others, after one of the citizens (epi tina tȏn politȏn meth’ heterȏn epempon), to fetch him by force (biai axonta) that he might be put to
death (hȏs apothanoumenon) – their object being that Socrates,
whether he wished or no, might be made to share in their political actions (hina
dȇ metechoi tȏn pragmatȏn autois, eite
bouloito eite mȇ); he however, refused to obey (ho
d’ ouk epeitheto) and risked the utmost penalties (pan de parekinduneusen
pathein) rather than being a partaker in their unholy deeds (prin anosiȏn autois ergȏn genesthai koinȏnos).
So when I beheld all these things (ha dȇ panta kathorȏn)
and others of a similar grave kind (kai tin’ alla toiauta ou smikra), I
was indignant (eduscherana te), and I withdrew myself from (kai
emauton epanȇgagon apo) the evils of those days (tȏn tote kakȏn).
***
Bury
translates apo tȏn tote kakȏn ‘from
the evil practices then going on’. Bury is wrong. Plato’s kai emauton epanȇgagon apo tȏn tote kakȏn
‘and I withdrew myself from the evils of those days’ implies that Plato was involved
‘in the evils of those days’, not in ’the evil practices then going on’.
***
But in no long
time (chronȏi de ou pollȏi)
the power of the Thirty was overthrown (metepese ta tȏn triakonta) together with the whole government which then existed (te
kai pasa hȇ tote politeia). Then once again I was really,
though less urgently, impelled with a desire to take part in public and
political affairs (palin de braduteron men, heilken de me homȏs hȇ peri to prattein ta koina kai
politika epithumia).
Many deplorable events, however, were still happening in those times, troublous
as they were (ȇn oun kai en ekeinois, hate
tetaragmenois, polla gignomena ha tis an duscheraneie), and it was not surprising (kai
ouden ti thaumaston ȇn) that in some instances, during these revolutions, men
were avenging themselves on their foes too fiercely (timȏrias echthrȏn gignesthai tinȏn tisin meizous en metabolais); yet, notwithstanding, the exiles
who then returned exercised no little moderation (kaitoi pollȇi ge echrȇsanto hoi tote katelthontes
epieikeiai). But, as
ill-luck would have it (kata de tina tuchȇn au), certain men of authority summoned our comrade Socrates before the
law-courts (ton hetairon hȇmȏn Sȏkratȇ touton dunasteuontes tines eisagousin eis dikastȇrion), laying a charge against him which was most unholy (anosiȏtatȇn aitian epiballontes), and which Socrates of all men
least deserved (kai pantȏn hȇkista Sȏkratei prosȇkousan); for it was on the charge of impiety that those men summoned him (hȏs asebȇ gar hoi men eisȇgagon) and the rest condemned (hoi de katepsȇphisanto) and slew him (kai apekteinan) – the very man who on the former
occasion, when they themselves had the misfortune to be in exile, had refused
to take part in the unholy arrest of one of the friends of the men then exiled
(ton tote tȇs anosiou agȏgȇs ouk ethelȇsanta metaschein peri hena tȏn tote pheugontȏn philȏn, hote pheugontes edustuchoun autoi).
When, therefore,
I considered all this (Skopounti dȇ moi tauta te), and the type of men (kai tous
anthrȏpous) who were administering the affairs of State (tous
prattontas ta politika), with their laws too (kai tous nomous ge)
and their customs (kai ethȇ), the more I considered them (hosȏi mallon dieskopoun) and the more I advanced in years myself (hȇlikias te eis to prosthe proubainon), the more difficult appeared to me (tosoutȏi chalepȏteron ephaineto) the task of managing affairs of
State rightly (orthȏs einai moi ta politika dioikein). For it was impossible to take
action without friends and trusty companions (oute gar aneu philȏn andrȏn kai hetairȏn pistȏn hoion t’ einai prattein); and these it was not easy to find
ready to hand (hous outh’ huparchontas ȇn heurein eupetes), since our State was no longer
managed according to the principles and institutions of our forefathers (ou
gar eti en tois tȏn paterȏn ȇthesin kai epitȇdeumasin hȇ polis hȇmȏn diȏikeito); while to acquire other new friends with any facility was a thing
impossible (kainous te allous adunaton ȇn ktasthai meta tinos raistȏnȇs). Moreover, both the written laws and the customs
were being corrupted, and that with surprising rapidity (ta te tȏn nomȏn grammata kai ethȇ diephtheireto kai epedidou thaumaston hoson). Consequently, although at first I
was filled with an ardent desire to engage in public affairs (hȏste me, to prȏton pollȇs meston onta hormȇs epi to prattein ta koina), when I considered all this (bleponta
eis tauta) and saw how things were shifting about anyhow in all directions
(kai pheromena horȏnta pantȇi pantȏs), I finally became dizzy (teleutȏnta ilingian); and although I continued to consider (kai tou men
skopein mȇ apostȇnai)
by what means some betterment could be brought about not only in these matters
but also in the government as a whole (mȇ pote ameinon an gignoito peri auta tauta kai dȇ kai peri tȇn pasan politeian), yet as regards political action I
kept constantly waiting for an opportune moment (tou de prattein aei perimenȏn tous kairous); until, finally, looking at all the States which now exist,
I perceived that one and all they are badly governed (teleutȏnta de noȇsai peri pasȏn tȏn nun poleȏn hoti kakȏs sumpasai politeuontai); for the state of their laws is
such as to be almost incurable (ta gar tȏn nomȏn autais schedon aniatȏs echonta estin) without some marvellous overhauling (aneu paraskeuȇs thaumastȇs tinos) and good-luck to boot (meta tuchȇs).
So in my praise of the right philosophy I was compelled to declare (legein te
ȇnankasthȇn, epainȏn tȇn orthȇn philosophian,) that by it (hȏs ek tautȇs estin) one is enabled to discern all forms of justice both political and
individual (ta te politika dikaia kai ta tȏn idiȏtȏn panta katidein). Wherefore the classes of mankind will have no cessation of
evils (kakȏn oun ou lȇxein ta anthrȏpina genȇ) until either the class of those who are right and true
philosophers attain political supremacy (prin an ȇ to tȏn philosophountȏn orthȏs kai alȇthȏs genos eis archas elthȇi tas politikas), or else the class of those who hold power in the States (ȇ to tȏn dunasteuontȏn en tais polesin) becomes, by some dispensation of Heaven, really
philosophic (ek tinos moiras theias ontȏs philosophȇsȇi). This was the view I held (Tautȇn dȇ tȇn dianoian echȏn) when I came to Italy and Sicily (eis Italian kai
Sikelian ȇlthon), at the time of my first arrival (hote
prȏton aphikomȇn). (Translation R.G. Bury)
Appositely, in
his note on the text Bury refers to Republic V, 473 D, where Socrates
says:
‘Unless
either philosophers become kings in our states (Ean mȇ ȇ hoi philosophoi basileusȏsi en tais polesi) or those whom we now call our kings and rulers (ȇ hoi basilȇs nun legomenoi kai dunastai) take to the pursuit of philosophy
seriously and adequately (philosophȇsȏsi gnȇsiȏs te kai hikanȏs), and there is a conjunction of these two things (kai
touto eis t’auton sumpesȇi), political power and philosophic intelligence (dunamis
te politikȇ kai philosophia), while the motley horde of the
natures who at present pursue either apart from the other (tȏn de nun poreuomenȏn chȏris eph’ hekateron hai pollai phuseis) are completely excluded (ex
anankȇs apokleisthȏsin), there can be no cessation of troubles (ouk esti kakȏn paula), dear Glaucon (ȏ phile Glaukȏn
[Glaucon was Plato’s younger brother), for our states (tais polesi),
nor, I fancy (dokȏ d’), for the human race either (oude tȏi anthrȏpinȏi genei).’ (Translation Paul Shorey; just as I have been using Bury’ translation
in discussing Plato’s Seventh Letter, I shall be using Shorey’s
translation concerning Plato’s Republic.)
Let us see,
how Plato came to this ideal of the conjunction of philosophy and political
power. Socrates opens the fifth book by reflecting on the three preceding books:
‘To such a city, then, I apply the terms good and right (agathȇn men toinun tȇn toiautȇn polin te kai politeian kai orthȇn kalȏ).’ Next, he intends to narrate other
constitutions, which fall under four forms of badness. But at that moment
Polemarchus, in whose house the whole narrative of the Republic takes
place, whispers to Adeimantus (Plato’s elder brother; Adeimantus and Glaucon are
Socrates’ main interlocutors in Republic II to X) ‘of which we overheard
nothing else (hȏn allo men ouden
katȇkousamen)’, says
Socrates, ‘save only this (tode de) “Shall we let him off then (Aphȇsomen oun)”, he said (ephȇ), “or what shall we do (ȇ ti drasomen)?” “By no means (Hȇkista
ge),” said
Adeimantus (ephȇ ho Adeimantos), now raising his voice (mega ȇdȇ legȏn).’ When Socrates asks, what they are referring to,
Adeimantus explains that Socrates left unexplained “that, of course (hȏs ara), in respect of women and children (peri gunaikȏn te kai andrȏn) it is obvious to everybody (panti dȇlon)
that the possessions of friends will be in common (hoti koina ta philȏn estai, 449c4-5) … so now (nun oun), since you are beginning on another
constitution (epeidȇ allȇs epilambanȇi politeias) before sufficiently defining this (prin
tauta hikanȏs dielesthai), we are firmly resolved (dedoktai
hȇmin touto), as you overheard (ho su ȇkousas), not to let you go (to se mȇ methienai) till you have expounded all this as
fully as you did the rest (prin an tauta panta hȏsper t’alla dielthȇis).” “Set me down, too (Kai eme toinun),” said
Glaucon (ho Glaukȏn ephȇ), “as voting for this ticket (koinȏnon tȇs psȇphou tautȇs tithete).” “Surely (Amelei),” said
Thrasymachus (ȇ d’ hos ho Thrasumachos) [a famous sophist, Socrates’
interlocuter in Republic I.], “you may consider it a joint resolution of
us all (pasi tauta dedogmena hȇmin nomidze), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates)” (449d6-450a6).’
In the
preceding three books, that is in books II.-IV., Socrates unfolded a picture of
the ideal city, built on communist principles; now, compelled by his friends, he
describes the common possession of women and children (hȇ koinȏnia gunaikȏn te kai paidȏn) as consistent with the communist constitution of the
ideal city outlined in those preceding three books (hȏs de hepomenȇ
te tȇi allȇi politeiai), and as
being by far the best (kai makrȏi beltistȇ). To argue this point,
Socrates asks ‘what we could name as the greatest good (ti pote to megisthon
agathon echomen eipein) for the constitution of a state (eis poleȏs
kataskeuȇn), and what would be the greatest evil (kai ti to megiston
kakon). Do we know of any greater evil for a state (echomen oun ti
meizon kakon tȇi polei) than the thing (ȇ ekeino) that distracts it (ho
an autȇn diaspai) and makes it many instead of one (kai poiȇi pollas
anti mias), or greater good (ȇ meizon agathon) than that which binds
it together (tou ho an sundȇi te) and makes it one (kai poiȇi mian)?
Is not, then (oukoun), the community of pleasure and pain (hȇ men hȇdonȇs
te kai lupȇs koinȏnia) the tie that binds (sundei), when (hotan),
as far as may be (hoti malista), all the citizens (pantes hoi politai)
rejoice and grieve alike at the same births and deaths (tȏn autȏn gignomenȏn
te kai spollumenȏn paraplȇsiȏs chairȏsi kai lupȏntai)?’ Socrates concludes:
‘That city, then, is best ordered in which the greatest number use the
expression “mine” and “not mine” of the same things in the same way (en hȇitini
dȇ polei pleistoi epi to auto kata t’auta touto legousi to emon kai to ouk
emon, hautȇ arista dioikeitai).’ (Rep. V., 462a-c, tr. Paul Shorey)
It is Plato’s
ideal of state govern on the principles of communism that on Rogers’ views
becomes the target of Aristophanes’ humour in his comedy Ecclesiazousae
(Women at the Assembley). On his view, Ecclesiazousae was staged in 393,
which means that Plato’s Republic II.-V must have been put into
circulation in Athens in 394. Since according to the Seventh Letter Plato
left Athens for Italy and Sicily when he became almost forty years old (schedon
etȇ tessarakonta gegonȏs,
S.L. 324a6) and that he did so when he reached the view that ‘the
classes of mankind will have no cessation from evils until either the class of
those who are right and true philosophers attains political supremacy, or else
the class of those who hold power in the Stats becomes, by some dispensation of
Heaven, really philosophic’, that is the view reached in Republic V,
Plato became forty in 394, not in 389, as is supposed on the basis of the
dating of Plato’s birth in Diogenes Laertius – Diogenes gives us two dates of
Plato’s birth: In III. 2, he says that according to Apollodorus Plato was born I
427 B.C. ‘on the seventh day of the month Thargelion, the same day on which the
Delians say that Apollo was born; in III. 3, he says that Plato was born in
429, the year of Pericles’ death. Both these dates deserve J.K. Davies’ warning
about mythologizing influences on calculations of Plato’s life. If Rogers is
right, and in 394 B.C. Plato circulated books II-V of the Republic, Plato
was born in 434 B.C.
Plato’s
birth in 434 can be supported by other considerations. As has been seen, Plato tells
us in his Seventh Letter that his friends and relatives among the men
leading the aristocratic revolution in 404 B.C. ‘at once invited him to join
their administration, thinking it would be congenial’. This makes sense, if Plato
was ‘about 30’ (schedon triakonta) at the time, not 25, as he would have
been if born in 429 B.C.
