In the fourth century, critics of democracy were compelled to develop new models of oligarchic and monarchic rule that avoided the celebrated abuses of the tyrant who could ‘‘do whatever he likes.’’ They did this mainly by imagining a new type of ruler who - in order to ensure that he ruled in the interests of the people - had undergone intensive training in the political virtues of intelligence, wisdom, and self-restraint. The life of single rulers was no longer to be imagined as ‘‘like the gods’’ insofar as they had unlimited wealth and power. Rather they were to be disciplined and self-denying, so that not only did they avoid becoming corrupted by power, but their virtue would be the guiding principle of the entire state. As Isocrates put it to the Cyprian monarch Nicocles, ‘‘Do not think it right that others live in an orderly fashion, while kings may live licentiously. Rather, let your self-control stand as an example to the rest, knowing that the ethos of the whole city-state is derived from the rulers’’ (2.31).
Fourth century advocates of monarchy used various means to articulate this new conception of political leadership. Some composed admiring portraits of monarchs based on a blend of actual and wished-for virtues. So Xenophon wrote a biography praising King Agesilaus of Sparta, and a longer fictional account of the virtues of King Cyrus of Persia. Others sought to exhort existing monarchs to virtuous behavior through treatises and dialogues - and occasionally direct tutorials - on good leadership. Plato tried unsuccessfully to educate the tyrants of Syracuse and Isocrates addressed several treatises to the kings of Cyprus. In one treatise, for example, Isocrates undertook to teach the young Cypriot king Nicocles ‘‘how he might manage his polis and his kingdom best’’ (To Nicocles 2.2). In contrast to the traditional portrait of the tyrant who is advised to ‘‘remove’’ anyone who attempts to rival him (cf. Hdt. 5.92 above), Isocrates advises Nicocles to cultivate his virtue, intelligence and wisdom (To Nicocles 2.8,11-14). For Isocrates, the benefits of the virtuous rule of a single ruler are greater security for the monarch and milder government for the people (2.8). These benefits accrue because wise rule entails ruling in the interests of the masses, ensuring both that the best men are honored, and that the rest suffer no injustices (2.15). In these latter aspects, Isocrates’ ideal monarchy somewhat resembles the moderate democracy that he associated with Solon (Panath. 138). Indeed, Isocrates places more emphasis on the character of the rulers than on the type of regime as a determinant of good government. If the ruler(s) in a democracy, oligarchy, or monarchy rule in the common interest, then they will govern well; if they rule in the their own interests or through greed, then they will rule badly (Panath. 132-3).
In To Nicocles, Isocrates argued that it is actually in the interest of the ruler to govern in the interest of the masses, since in this way he will be admired and his regime will endure. Xenophon developed another tack in his curious dialogue Hiero. In this imaginary dialogue between the tyrant Hiero of Syracuse and the poet Simonides, Xenophon represents tyranny as undesirable insofar as the tyrant lives in constant fear of his life, cannot enjoy the goods at hand, and cannot trust that anyone truly honors or loves him. After Hiero’s long exegesis of the miseries of the tyrannical life, Simonides provides a much shorter recipe for ruling and winning the affection of his subjects. By delegating the less pleasant tasks of governing - like overseeing punishments - to his subordinates, and by focusing his own energies on public works and the distribution of honors to citizens, the tyrant can become both a strong ruler and well liked.
In the Republic, Plato takes a much more radical step in making the life of his ideal rulers different from conventional conceptions of leadership by denying them any private property or family life. Like Xenophon and Isocrates, Plato focuses on the moral education of the rulers, but he formalizes the means to this education and explains how it can be effectively reproduced over time. Plato draws a sharp contrast between the politicians of his own day, and the rulers of his ideal state, ‘‘Beautiful-city’’ ( Callipolis). Current politicians are mere rhetoricians who have no real knowledge, but rather cultivate the ability to persuade the masses by pandering to its base desires. Contrary to the popular perception that such individuals enjoy power similar to a tyrant, and therefore are to be envied, Plato suggests that the power to do whatever one likes (including wrongdoing) does not make one happy (Grg. 466c-475e). On the contrary, the happiness of both individuals and the state depends on their moral goodness. Moral goodness in the state can only be achieved, moreover, by making philosophers rulers, since only philosophic men (and women!) have been trained from youth in knowledge of The Good. This is not the place to describe the metaphysical basis of Plato’s conception of The Good, but suffice it to say that Plato reimagines political leadership in the form a single (Statesman) or small number (Republic) of philosophical individuals who constantly keep in mind the underlying moral order of the universe and mold both their own souls and the larger community according to this principle (Republic).
In his final work, Laws, Plato modifies his idealism by acknowledging that even such rulers might fall prey to the corruption that results from absolute power (cf. Bobonich 2002; Laks 2000; Hitz, this volume, chapter 24). In place of the ideal monarch or aristocracy of his earlier works, therefore, Plato advocates a mixed constitution similar to that of the Spartans and Romans (Polyb. 6.10; Fink 1962; von Fritz 1975). In this solution, checks are placed on power by balancing different bodies of the state against one another. Sparta not only had two kings (cf. the two Roman consuls) but power was distributed between these, the Gerousia (cf. the Roman senate) and the assembly of the Spartans (cf. Roman popular assemblies). In addition, the Ephors oversaw the kings and were empowered to depose them if they failed to rule according to the laws. It was this solution of checks and balances that most attracted early modern political thinkers such as Machiavelli, and, more significantly, the American Founding Fathers (cf. Pocock 1975; Sellers 1994; Roberts 1994; and below).
In line with the focus on the moral education of leaders, fourth century political theorists developed a more complex typology of states than had previously existed. Fifth century theorists had conceptualized the options for constitutions as threefold: rule of one man (monarchy, kingship, tyranny); rule of a few men (aristocracy, oligarchy), and rule of the masses (isonomia, isokratia, isegoria, democracy). In the fourth century, this tripartite scheme was further subdivided in a systematic way according to the character of the regime, among other criteria. The rule of one man was subdivided into kingship, if the ruler governs in the interest of his subjects, or tyranny, if the ruler governs in his own interest. The regimes were correspondingly divided into ‘‘correct’’ and deviant forms, with kingship, aristocracy, and constitutional government falling into the former category, while tyranny, oligarchy, and democracy fell into the latter. ‘‘Tyranny is one-man rule in the interest of the monarch, and oligarchy is [rule of the few] in the interest of the wealthy, and democracy is [rule of the many] in the interest of the poor. None of these [deviant] forms rules in the common interest’’ (Arist. Pol. 1279b7-10).
It was in the context of Plato’s earlier typology of regimes in the Republic that Plato developed the most searing portrait of what he viewed as the most defective form of rule, namely tyranny. While Herodotus depicted the tyrant as transgressor of norms without accountability (3.80), Plato focuses on the soul of the tyrant. Plato identifies four types of deviant regimes and identifies them with the souls of four types of individuals. The unifying feature of these deviant regimes and individuals is that all are ruled by desire, not reason (Schofield 2006). The timocratic man desires honor and focuses his efforts on this to the exclusion of all else ( Resp. 547). The oligarchic man sets his sights on wealth and neglects education and virtue (550-4). The democratic man strives after freedom and consequently abandons all distinction between good and bad desires: ‘‘He doesn’t deprive any desire of its rights and treats them all equally’’ (561b5). From the democratic man emerges the tyrannical man who is completely consumed by uncontrollable desires: ‘‘Lust, the tyrant within, takes over the soul completely’’ as ‘‘many terrible desires grow and take root day and night’’ (573d). With this move, Plato is able to equate absolute freedom to do what one likes with absolute slavery to one’s desires. Thus paradoxically, the tyrant who is free to do what he likes is the most enslaved of all (577). In this way, Plato, like Xenophon in the Hiero, argues that the tyrant is the most miserable of all human characters since he is ‘‘driven mad by desires and lusts’’ and lives as if imprisoned in the jail of his own desires (578-9). Thus, contrary to popular wisdom, Plato argues, the tyrant is the least happy of all individuals (cf. Grg. 490-9). By contrast, the king, who is ruled by knowledge and reason, is the most happy (587b8). With this, Plato returns full circle to one of the main themes of the Republic, namely that the just man is happier than the unjust (588a7).
In his late dialogue, the Statesman, Plato dismisses the classification of constitutions according to standard criteria, and suggests that only those rulers who are educated in the science of rulership (whether they be one, two or more men) are correct and true forms of constitution (Plt. 291c-293e). Similarly, Aristotle was willing to entertain the idea that the rule of a single individual, if he were of preeminent virtue and political skill, might be the best form of government (Pol. 1284a4-b35). It is even possible that Aristotle viewed Alexander of Macedon as a potential candidate for the position of king over all Greece (Ober 1998: 342-7). Isocrates had earlier exhorted Alexander’s father Philip to take up the position of panhellenic leader. For Isocrates, however, Philip’s qualifications were not so much his virtue and political skill, as his military leadership. By directing Greek energies toward external foes, Isocrates believed, Philip might resolve the conflicts that were currently consuming the Greek city-states.
So far I have focused on the ways that critics of popular rule responded to the new circumstances of the fourth century by adapting and reformulating earlier conceptions of one-man rule. For these critics, the education in political virtue of a new breed of leaders was the key to avoiding the well-known flaws of oligarchic and monarchic rule. This response must be read against the background of a dominant democratic ideology in which tyranny and oligarchy symbolized all the ethical and political flaws which democracy sought to avoid. In a speech before the popular courts in 346/5, for example, Aeschines grouped tyranny and oligarchy together as the antithesis of democracy: ‘‘Among all men it is agreed that there are three types of constitution: tyranny, oligarchy and democracy. Tyrannies and oligarchies are managed according to the characters of those in power, while democratic cities are governed by the laws’’ (1.4). Similarly, when Demosthenes wished to represent Philip II of Macedon as a grave threat to Greece, he described him as a tyrant before the democratic assembly of the Athenians: ‘‘What do you seek? Freedom. But do you not see that Philip’s titles are incompatible with this [freedom]? For every king and tyrant is the enemy of freedom and the law’’ (6.24-5).12 As we have seen, fourth century critics of democracy sidestepped this critique by distinguishing monarchy from tyranny, and aristocracy from oligarchy. Moreover, these critics, like fifth century critics of democracy, waged ideological warfare against democracy by suggesting that tyranny and democracy shared the same flaws, namely lawlessness and the license to live as one likes. For example, Plato turned the democratic concept of freedom on its head by associating democratic freedom with the tyrant’s freedom to live as he likes, unconstrained by the law (Resp. 557b-564a).
It is fascinating to see how both sides of the political spectrum used the same concept - tyranny - as the ideological and theoretical counterpoint to radically different forms of government. The appropriation of the concept of tyranny for opposing political agendas illustrates once again the ideological flexibility and conceptual utility of the figure of the tyrant. This statement is true not only for the historical periods covered in this essay, but also for later western political thought. For example, a recent US Supreme Court decision made use of the concept of tyranny in striking down special tribunals for terror suspects. In support of the majority opinion in the case, Justice John Paul Stevens drew on a seminal quote from James Madison on the nature of tyranny: ‘‘The accumulation of all powers, legislative, executive and judiciary, in the same hands, whether of one, a few or many, and whether hereditary, self-appointed or elective, may justly be pronounced the very definition of tyranny’’ (Federalist #47). This quotation shows not only that the concept of tyranny is easily adapted to radically different circumstances, but more importantly, that it has lost none ofits potency, despite the intervening thousands of years of historical change.
World History
