As a work of political philosophy, the central principle of Plato’s Republic is unity. In the words of Aristotle, “Socrates takes as his premiss, that the greatest possible unity of the whole city [or polis] is the supreme good.” This is evident throughout the dialogue. Socrates insists that the guardians, who are the aristocratic civic body of the Republic - and its true constituents, for the other civilians are, if anything, ancillary and incidental, and dealt with not as a matter of interest but as a matter of course - must have everything in common. Their inborn natures (“metals”), upbringing, education, property, and even their families must not only be similar, but identical; that is to say, one and the same. The property of each must be the property of all and the property of all the property of each, with the same going for fathers, mothers, wives, and children, each and all the men of one generation being the fathers of each and all the men of the subsequent generation, and so on and so forth with all the familial relationships. This form of unity is perhaps best described as “oneness” - for it is absolute, permitting no form of division whatsoever, be it of interests, allegiances, knowledge, or even natural characteristics, save the physical distinction between “bodies.”
Socrates rejects democracy. This is not surprising, as it is pluralistic in nature, giving equal say to individuals of different classes and interests on the basis of a generic and nonspecific standard of equality, while Socrates believes unity in all things to be the chief good of the polis. In short, democracy is antipodal to his political ideal. He says “I know how to secure one man’s vote, but with the many I will not even enter into discussion,” and that in a court of law the “method of proof” whereby the claims of “many reputable witnesses” are given more weight than those of the party with “one [witness] or none” is in fact “worthless” - both these statements demonstrating a clear disdain and utter rejection of democratic principle and process. To Socrates, “there is one form of excellence,” while “the forms of evil are infinite.” Thus, variety, which he posits as one of the main characteristics of a democratic polis, can consist in nothing more than evil - for if there is only one form of good, then any variance from that form must be bad. In short, “oneness,” Socrates’ political ideal, does not permit multiplicity, in the sense of both variety and number, and multiplicity is the foundation of democracy. This is clear, for democracy is government by the majority, and the majority only exists by virtue of its numbers and because a minority exists that varies from it - it exists because of number and variety, which is the definition of multiplicity.
It is possible that the kind of unity Socrates describes, which is absolute unity, is indeed the highest political good. If realized, it would manifest as perfect civic virtue; every citizen would relate to every other citizen with the same love and loyalty they felt for themselves, and unison in all things would be the de facto reality. A peaceful picture, to be sure. Going forward, the term I will use for this kind of unity is “identical interest” - as distinct from common interest. Common interest, specifically in the Aristotelian sense, designates a form of thing which multiple individuals or parties seek to attain within different situations and by different means through cooperation. To Aristotle, the common interest for the purpose of which the political association (polis) is formed is the attainment of a good life, which consists of “self-sufficiency” among other things: “The true end of a city is a good life, and it is the common interest to achieve this.” According to him, individuals cannot attain this end on their own, and they associate with other individuals of different capacities and functions so that, through mutual supplement, each can make up for the deficiencies of the other and all can collectively provide what is necessary for a “good life.” A “good life” is not a particular thing, but rather a form of thing; in particular, the form of life which is good - it is a kind of object, not a particular object. This is where common interest diverges from identical interest. Identical interest is mutual interest in a particular object. The absolute unity Socrates describes in the Republic consists in identical interest for the reason that its citizens have a mutual care not merely for the same forms of object, such as family or property, but for the same exact objects - the same family and the same property (for there is but one family and one property amongst the guardians).
There is a second distinction to be made between common interest and identical interest. Common interest, as previously detailed, involves distinct cooperative activities directed towards the collective attainment of a form of thing. Identical interest differs from this not only in concerning an identical object, rather than the same form of object, but also in the mode of its pursuit, in the case that it is an object of attainment and not simply one of care. In particular, identical interests and identical objects are pursued through identical activities, or at least directly parallel ones, rather than distinct ones; the object is the same, and the activity of its pursuit, which is shared by a number of people, is also the same. Those who mutually pursue an identical object, are, in a sense, one of mind; they are pursuing the same object through the same activities, and are thus undergoing the same psychological process. This oneness of mind is amplified when the pursuit is not only mutual but cooperative (as in a military setting). Herein lies the connection between identical interest and absolute unity, which is in itself “oneness.”
Now that this esoteric discussion is finished, and the equation of Socrates’ concept of “oneness” and identical interest has been demonstrated, I will provide the context to which it is significant.
As I have noted, Socrates’ ideal polis is the diametric opposite of democracy; he posits unity to be the chief political good, and democracy is by nature pluralistic - constituted by a plurality of individuals and interests. Socrates himself does not explicitly state his criticism of democratic government in such terms, but considering how precise and complete the opposition between it and what he presents as the political ideal is, one can gather that he must have been aware of the antipodal relationship between them. His specific criticism of democracy is that it is too susceptible to demagogues; figures like Cimon and Miltiades “treat the people like children,” manipulating their desires and emotions and “attempting only to please them,” for the purpose of controlling them. The lifetime of Socrates directly coincided with the height of demagoguery and demagogic power in Athens, and no doubt it was because he experienced this in his life that he formed such a negative image of and became so opposed to democracy.
However, let us consider what the demagogues did. I will take two famous examples: Themistocles and Pericles. Themistocles was a militarist and a warmonger, and spent his career building popular support for the expansion of Athenian naval power. It was largely because of this, and Themistocles’ leadership, that the Greeks victoried over the Persians at the Battle of Salamis; but all along it was the ambition of Themistocles to establish Athens as the leading power of Greece, and to be the founder of an Athenian empire. Themistocles’ aim was to give the Athenians a taste for war. Pericles continued this policy of naval expansionism and supremacism in the Peloponnesian War, once telling the Athenians after a defeat, by way of exhortation, that “in the whole of [the sea], you are completely supreme, not merely as far as you use at present, but also to what further extent you may think fit.” He also established the institution of pay for public service - paying the populace to attend and participate in the assemblies, a practice which “made the Athenians idle and cowardly and talkative and covetous.”
What is the common feature between the policies of these two demagogues? In both cases, their actions served to consolidate and centralize public interest, to manufacture a general will, as well as to unify the activity of the public. Pericles and Themistocles united the interests and desires of the people by giving them a taste for the same objects of pursuit, making them predictable in their behavior and easy to influence and control. Two such objects of pursuit, as identified in the previous examples, were war and pay for public service.
Both of these can be classified as identical interests. First of all, the object, in each case, is identical for all. When men clamor to go to war, it is not war as a concept or form of thing that they all have in mind, but rather a specific enemy to be conquered, a particular place to be pillaged, and the wealth of that particular place to be attained; the collective aim is unified and concerns a particular object, not a form of object. The same is true in the case of pay for public service. The basis of political participation is not a concept or form, such as vested interest or civic duty or the rights of freemen, nor is it the distinct concerns of individuals and demographics, such as property reform or advocation for private interests; an equal stipend for all drawn from the same public fund - the object is particular, and identical for each and all.
Secondly, the activity of pursuit, in addition to the object of pursuit, is the same for everyone. This is clear in the case of war; at no time and in no setting are the activities of men more unified, synchronized, and in parallel with one another than they are during wartime and in battle - the best army is that which is one at arms, one in heart, and one of mind. The same is true when it comes to pay for public service, though in a more subtle sense, and one which requires further explanation. Because the object is identical for all, namely being paid for having attended and participated in the assembly, the psychological process of its pursuit is also roughly identical for all; go to the assembly, express an opinion loudly, collect one’s pay, and leave. There may be superficial differences in the behaviors or opinions of the different citizens in attendance, an illusion of plurality, but these differences are arbitrary and unimportant. The object is not the expression of the opinion, or even its proposition being brought to fruition, but rather being paid for having expressed it - the opinion itself is merely the vehicle of pay. And even superficial differences of opinion are unlikely, for if the motivation is pay, then it is likely that all will support the demagogue who instituted the practice of paying, namely Pericles. In sum, both objects, war and pay for public service, have the effect of putting those pursuing them in the same state of mind, unifying them psychologically, and by extension give a unified and generic rather than individual and distinct quality to their activities.
Is it not ironic, then, that Socrates’ proposed alternative to the demagogic democracy of Athens is a political system of absolute unity, which is a polis whose citizens have identical interests, when it appears that the main problem of the Athenian democracy was that the interests of its people were too identical, and that the demos was, in fact, too unified? Is it not odd to recommend that, in order to solve the problems of a system, one ought to amplify the very aspect of that system which caused its problems in the first place? Now, one might argue that Socrates is not proposing that the unity of the polis simply be increased, he is not suggesting a partial unity, but rather an absolute unity, that is to say, unity in all respects. This is true; if the kind of unity Socrates describes could in fact be achieved, if each citizen could have precisely the same property, family, and nature, and in a word be identical, then the issues which accompany a mere overabundance of unity would disappear. However, the problem is that unity of this kind, namely absolute unity, is extremely unlikely to occur and even more unlikely to last, whereas partial unity, and in particular an excessive unity, is in fact quite possible, quite likely, and indeed quite common.
Look no further than the national movements of modern history; their basis in each case is some inflated assertion of unity, centered around a strong sense of shared identity, which is in itself a kind of identical object, an essentialism. In the case of German nationalism, for instance, the German race is the identical object; it is particular to itself and not relative, not based on some generic criterion such as geography or political boundaries but rather a sort of Ding an Sich, and yet it is shared equally by all Germans. It is in this sense, of being particular and not a form of thing (such as the good form of life or the right form of character) but rather a thing in itself, while at the same time being common to all, that the German race is an identical object. It is singular, particular, and yet shared by a great number; a sort of contradiction, but one which creates a tremendous sense of unity on a tremendous scale.
There are two problems with excessive and overabundant unity. Firstly, it is based on principles which are at best faulty, and at worst fabricated. With respect to German nationalism, it is evident that the idea of a German race is quite baseless, in the sense that it has no place in history; before the movements of unification, there had never been any German nation, no natural boundaries separating it from other races, but only a number of abutting tribes of differing characters and dialects occupying different territories, of which the closer ones were more similar. Modern conventions which appear to be evidence of national character, such as language, are only ex post facto symptoms of national unification; it is not that the Germans share a single language and for this reason established a single nation, but rather that their language was codified and standardized after their nation was established.
The second problem with excessive unity is that, being a centralization of interest and identity, it tends to support a centralization of power. This is clear in the case of the Athenian demagogues; the effect of consolidating the public interest around such objects as war and pay for public service was to place more and more power in their hands, as they were the ones who represented these objects in the public eye, and who were largely responsible for manufacturing this consolidation in the first place. Rule by a single individual or a small group of individuals is the logical consequence of any political ideology based on unity - because unity (literally, “oneness”), being singular, has most to do with identity, that which makes something itself and not something else, and is therefore best represented not collectively but individually, because nothing can embody identity more than the individual. This is a somewhat abstract and immaterial explanation, but history itself is the evidence of my point, for all political movements based on unity, those of nationalism, fascism, and national communism, have been followed by a centralization of political power, most often in the extreme.
Socrates posits that the measure of the goodness of a city is its unity, and that the greatest possible unity is the “supreme good.” The question which must be raised is this: can something be called the highest political good, if it is only the highest good (or indeed good at all) when it exists in the absolute, and around the most perfect principles? For it appears that when unity is not absolute but rather partial, and does not center around the principles Socrates describes in the Republic but instead centers around imperfect and dangerous principles, it is not the highest political good, but rather the greatest political evil. Unless it exists in its most perfect form, it is not the salvation of the polis, but rather its destruction, it does not create the most virtuous and well-rounded of citizens, but rather the most base and single-minded; in short, it proves to be in all respects the precise opposite of what Socrates asserts it to be.
Aristotle presents an alternative to unity; instead of identical interest, he posits “common interest” to be the proper and actual basis of politics. What he suggests is not unity of interest, but rather a “community of interest.” Community is a unity based upon commonality and communication, not identity and oneness. Commonality consists in the interdependence, rather than the unity, of individual interests, and communication naturally follows and reinforces interdependence. Under a system of absolute unity, there would be no need for communication, and consequently there would be no community. In sum, the basis of association is interdependence, and interdependence only exists when there is a division of interests. Therefore, the idea of an absolutely unified polis is oxymoronic.
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