МАТИЦА СРПСКА ОДЕЉЕЊЕ ЗА КЊИЖЕВНОСТ И ЈЕЗИК З Б О Р Н И К МАТИЦЕ СРПСКЕ ЗА КЛАСИЧНЕ СТУДИЈЕ JOURNAL OF CLASSICAL STUDIES MATICA SRPSKA 14 Уредништво Сима Аврамовић (Београд), Војислав Јелић (Београд), Виктор Кастелани (Денвер), Карл Јоахим Класен (Гетинген), Ксенија Марицки Гађански (Београд), Емилија Масон (Париз), Ливио Росети (Перуђа), Данијела Стефановић (Београд), секретар, Мирјана Д. Стефановић (Нови Сад), Бојана Шијачки Маневић (Београд) Editorial Board Sima Avramović (Belgrade), Victor Castellani (Denver), Carl Joachim Classen (Göttingen), Vojislav Jelić (Belgrade), Ksenija Maricki Gadjanski (Belgrade), Emilia Masson (CNRS Paris), Livio Rosetti (Perugia), Danijela Stefanović (Belgrade), secretary, Mirjana D. Stefanović (Novi Sad), Bojana Šijački Manević (Belgrade) Главни и одговорни уредник Ксенија Марицки Гађански Editor-in-Chief Ksenija Maricki Gadjanski СЛИКА НА КОРИЦАМА – COVER PICTURE Сребрна шарнирска фибула на корицама потиче из околине Сомбора. Датује се у другу половину 4. века пре нове ере. Нађена је у гробу или остави заједно са три дру- ге сребрне фибуле истог типа и четири наруквице од сребрног лима. Данас се налази у Природњачком музеју у Бечу. Фибула припада последњој фази развоја шарнир ских фибула, тзв. варијанти Чуруг, које су под грчким утицајем израђиване на територији данашње Војводине. The silver fibula of the "Scharnier" type on the cover was found in the surrounding of Sombor. It is dated to the second half of the 4th century B.C. It was found in a grave or a hoard together with three silver fibulae of the same type and four bracelets of silver sheet. It is now in the Natural History Museum in Vienna. The fibula belongs to the last development phase of "Scharnier" fibulae - the variant Čurug - which was produced under Greek influ- ence in the territory of present day Vojvodina (North Serbia). Лого - Logo: Dr. Rastko Vasić ISSN 1450-6998 | UDC 930.85(3)(082) ЗБОРНИК МАТИЦЕ СРПСКЕ ЗА КЛАСИЧНЕ СТУДИЈЕ JOURNAL OF CLASSICAL STUDIES MATICA SRPSKA 14 НОВИ САД NOVI SAD

СТУДИЈЕ И ЧЛАНЦИ STUDIES AND ARTICLES

UDC 1 Plato Melina G. Mouzala Department of Philosophy University of Patras ON THE CRATYLEAN ARGUMENTATION IN SUPPORT OF THE CORRECTNESS OF NAMES IN PLATO'S CRATYLUS ABSTRACT: The question of the correctness of names is for Plato pos- sessed of a dimension which penetrates deeply into the domain of logic and is connected with the possibility of conveying knowledge and judgements, with the possibility of assertion, i.e. of making true and false statements. We advance the view that within the framework of this problematic, Plato in the Cratylus is basically developing the theme of the relation of a name, as the smallest part of a statement, to true and false statements. Starting from this thesis, we set out to examine two passages (385b–d and 429b–430b) which we hold to be of prime importance to any overall interpretation of the dialogue, and in which Plato refutes the denial of that type of falsity in which names are implicated. Our investigation reveals that the Protagorean denial of falsity as expressed through the personage of Hermogenes, because it associates truth with the subject, is relatively easier for Plato to confute, which he does by adducing arguments in response that elevate the truth of things above the individual truth of each sub- ject. More difficult to confute is the Cratylean version of the denial of falsity, inasmuch as it presupposes the truth of things and harks back to Sophistic arguments for a complete and exclusive correspondence between name and thing – arguments which were developed under the influence of the Parmenidean theory regarding the immediate connection between thinking, speaking and being. We maintain that Plato himself had come under the influence of the same theory, because the exclusive relation between the meaning and the reference of a name generates the notion of the unique meaning of a name, which is echoed both in the content of the Socratic-Platonic question, 'What is F?', as well as in the condition of homonymy obtaining between Forms and sensible objects, within the framework of the theory of Forms. KEYWORDS: Plato's Cratylus, correctness of names, falsity, meaning, reference, mimesis, Sophistic argumentation, Socratic circles, Parmenidean Ontology, neo-Eleatic argumentation. 74 In Plato's Cratylus the problem of the correctness of names is corre- lated with the capacity of human reason to frame assertions of truth and falsity. The problem of whether falsity can exist, latently and implicitly, runs through the whole dialogue as a thread intended to interconnect the parts and underpin the cohesion of the text. This problem is twice posed in the dialogue, first in the conversation between Socrates and Hermogenes (385b2–d1) and again in the conversation between Socrates and Cratylus (429b7–430b1). In these two passages Plato examines the possibility of distinguishing between truth and falsity in respect of names as a fundamental condition of linguistic communication. In my paper "Names and Falsity in Plato's Cratylus"1 I have attempt- ed to trace and provide a sketch of the real persons, the historically and philosophically determinate influences, and the specific theses Plato is contending against in the Cratylus, behind the apparent confrontation with the positions of Cratylus and Hermogenes. This study – in fact the sequel of the aforementioned paper – attempts to show that of the dif- ferent forms assumed in the dialogue by the Sophistic and Antisthenean argumentation against falsity – such as Protagorean subjectivism, the Euthydemean claim of universal and indiscriminate knowledge, and Cratylean naturalism – the hardest to confute is the Cratylean (neo-Eleatic) argumentation in support of an exclusive correspondence between name and thing, an argumentation that I believe to have possessed a dimension which also influenced Socratic-Platonic dialectic. The two fundamental opposed theses in the dialogue are the Cra- tylean theory of the direct correlation of names to things and the Hermo- genean view which construes name giving as a linguistic convention. Although the two passages of the Cratylus (385b–d and 429b–430b) in which the problematic of the denial of falsity emerges do, because of their common theme, exert a counterbalancing effect on one another so as to secure an equilibrium between the two fundamentally opposed theses during their dialectical rebuttal by Socrates, they nevertheless display an essential difference of approach to the question of falsity on the part of its deniers, a concomitant of which is the difference of treatment accorded in each case to the subject by Plato. As Sedley rightly points out,2 what dominates in the first passage is – expressed in its Hermogenean ver- sion – the Protagorean denial of falsity, which sets up the subject on each occasion as the sole judge of any truth. There, in the first passage (385b–d), truth is connected to, and correlated with, the subject: the subject is that which determines and assigns truth. Conversely, in the 1 See M. G. Mouzala, "Names and falsity in Plato's Cratylus", Journal of Classical Studies Matica Srpska 13, 2011, 51–77. 2 See D. Sedley, Plato's Cratylus, Cambridge 2003, 132–133. 75 second passage (429b–430b) the denial of falsity is directly connected to the truth of things, the truth to be found within beings themselves, and precisely because this line of argument begins from the inviolable principle of the absolute and exact correspondence between the truth of words and the truth of things, its dialectical confutation proves to be as difficult as it is pressingly necessary. The eristic tone of this argu- mentation seeks to entrap anyone who upholds the existence of falsity into either admitting that what is not exists and can be uttered, or denying the very truth of things, and it is the denial of this truth that more than anything else appears to anger or offend Plato. In this latter case of denial of the possibility of falsity (429b–430b), a name – from the moment that it indeed is a real name – refers to some- thing that exists, and it signifies this something in an absolutely natural and successful manner, seeing that it is the name of just this one thing, and that hence there is no margin left for falsity. Something that does not exist cannot be said, cannot possess a name; on the other hand, if a name does not refer to its real or ontological correlate, then it is not even a name. Through the prism of such reasoning, the impossibility of fal- sity is established in two ways. (a) Referring to that which is not, which in the case in question is construed as that which is nil or nothing, is dismissed as impossible, because whoever utters a name says some- thing, given that no one ever says that which is nil or nothing. (b) As Sedley is right to point out,3 if a name (or even a complete sentence, a statement) does not refer to its real or ontological correlate, then it fails even to signify; the syllables emitted one after another by the person pronouncing the word do not possess any meaning, they are simply a sequence of sounds empty of meaning. The relation of name to thing is such a close, airtight and univocal or exclusive one as to give rise to an equally exclusive relation between reference and meaning. A name must only refer to that of which, through its meaning, it signifies the nature; and a name signifies exclusively the nature of that to which it refers. If a name does not refer to that which by its power (dunamis) it designates or reveals, then it does not signify anything. It is impossible that there should exist two names referring to the same thing and yet having different meanings. By taking this line, the Cratylean argument overturns what Sedley reports as the seventh principle or conclusion that emerges from an investigation of the section of the dialogue devoted to etymologies: namely, that two names can have extensional equivalence and succeed in distinguishing the same being by virtue of having the same power and participating in the same paradigmatic Form of name, yet they do 3 See D. Sedley, op. cit., 133. 76 not necessarily mean the same thing, i.e. they do not also have inten- sional equivalence4 –an example being 'Astyanax' and 'Skamandrios' (392b). What Cratylus' argument for the irrefutable and unimpeachable correctness of all names – to the extent that they are names – establishes is an absolutely firm and unique or exclusive relation between name and thing, as well as a corresponding relation between meaning and reference. According to the deeper import of Cratylus' reasoning that names must either be perfectly true or not even be names, reference through a name can only occur as long as the meaning of the attributed name expresses the nature of the thing to which it refers. In the context of his dialectical rebuttal of the above thesis, Socrates sets out to demonstrate that successful reference can occur even with the attribution of an inappropriate name (429b–430a). What Socrates is in effect asking at 429c6–d3 is whether we can say the things that are (ta onta legein) as they are not: even if it should not be the particular person's natural name, can we still call him 'Hermogenes'? Imogen Smith shows that in the rebuttal argument which Socrates addresses to Cratylus, the identification of the thing or person being referred to is successfully accomplished through certain auxiliary linguistic means of securing reference such as demonstrative pronouns, or even through extra-linguistic means such as deixis or handshaking.5 But Cratylus' argument is not in fact upset by this dialectical manoeuvre, because Cratylus does not deny the possibility of uttering 'Hermogenes', he does not deny that he can hear the person in question being called 'Hermogenes' and responding to that collection of sounds – only if he were deaf would Cratylus do so –, but he does deny that the particular word constitutes the name (onoma) of the person in question.6 Hence the argument that successful reference may be accomplished also by means other than the utterance of a (correct) onoma does not overturn, in our view, the Cratylean thesis that reference by means of a name presupposes a direct and natural relation between the meaning of the name and the nature of the thing. Many means of referring may well exist, both linguistic (such as the utterance of an inappropriate name accompanied by the use of a demonstrative pronoun) and extra-linguistic (i.e. identifying actions ranging from pointing, patting on the back and handshaking to the barking of a dog), as well as combinations of the two. Nevertheless, 4 Ibid., 150. 5 See I. Smith, 'False Names, Demonstratives and the Refutation of Linguistic Naturalism in Plato's Cratylus 427d1–431c3', Phronesis 53 (2008), 125–151; esp. 133 ff. Sedley, op. cit. 133–134, also notices and remarks on certain extra-linguistic ways of referring. 6 See Plato, Cratylus, 383b6–7. See also B. Williams, 'Cratylus' Theory of Names and its Refutation', in Language and Logos, M. Schofield and M. Nussbaum (eds.), Cambridge 1982, 83–93, esp. 83. 77 not just any reference is reference through a name. Reference through a name exists, or is achieved, by way of a singular meaning which ade- quately expresses the nature of the thing. Hence if we should wish to interpret the Cratylean viewpoint, it is only through names that natural reference or real reference can exist. In the context of the conventionalist view of the relation of names to things, reference is decidedly correlated with usage. But in the con- text of Cratylus' naturalistic view, reference must be correlated with the meaning which inheres in a (natural) name, and which is singular, since the nature of a thing is singular. Cratylus does admit, of course, that a thing and its name are distinct from one another, and that a name is 'an imitation' (mimēma ti) of the thing (430a). But being a product of the mimetic process which connects it with a thing, and to the extent also that this mimetic process has an intellective aspect, a name assumes a conventional dimension as well. This is so because, as Smith rightly points out, if one can employ names to refer to nominata that are unlike the names simply by securing agreement as to the object of reference, it will be equally necessary in the case where the nominata are like the names to secure agreement as to their likeness.7 We could thus diagnose that the vulnerable point in the articulation of Cratylus' argument, the point through which convention or agreement is able to gain entry so as to render it inconsistent and incoherent, is mimesis. That which we cannot be certain about, however, is to what extent mimesis constitutes an authentic element in the line of argument represented by Cratylus – and it has been shown in my analysis in "Names and Falsity in Plato's Cratylus"8 that I disassociate Cratylus from the followers or imitators of Heraclitus –, or whether Plato removes it from some other philo- sophical armoury and attaches it there in order to undermine its argu- mentative force, or, finally, whether mimesis constitutes a purely Platonic invention which the philosopher makes use of in order to facilitate the ends of the dialectical refutation. At any rate, I shall attempt to interpret in broad lines the function of mimesis within the context of the Cratylean view of the relation between the meaning and the reference of a name. This mimesis or imitation of a thing by a name is nothing else than a way of apprehending a thing in reason and describing its essence (let us recall here that the theme of the imitation of the ousia tou pragmatos by means of a name does not emerge only during the refutation of Hermogenes, where in fact the art of name-making, as a mimetic art, is distinguished from both the arts of music and painting [423c9–424a6], but also during the refutation of 7 See I. Smith, op. cit., 133. 8 See M. G. Mouzala, op. cit., 71–73. Cratylus [431d2–3]). In spite of its substantive differences from the in- cidence of complete and exclusive correspondence between name and thing which we are seeking to interpret within the philosophical envi- ronment of Plato's Cratylus, we shall nevertheless borrow certain dis- tinctions from the semantics of Gottlob Frege, which we shall extend and adapt in order to render them useful to our inquiry. On the basis of these distinctions, we could say that the meaning of a name constitutes a mode of presentation of the object of reference,9 one which captures and contains the essential mode of being of the given thing.10 The meaning of a name is determinative and exegetical of the connection of the particular name to a particular thing. The meaning of a name may be general or universal, an intellectual possession of the many, and hence it does not constitute a part or mode of the apprehension of the indi- vidual soul. In contraposition to the sense or meaning (Sinn), there is the idea or subjective presentation (Vorstellung), which varies in every consciousness; between the thing, which is the object of reference (Bedeututng), and the subjective apprehension, there lies the meaning, which is binding on the many as to the interpretation of the sign (Zeichen), i.e. of the name.11 Every name hides a meaning within itself, and this becomes espe- cially evident in the case of proper names such as 'Hermogenes', because the invocation of such names lends itself to displaying the peculiarity and the immediacy of the relation between a name and the essence of a thing. Within this meaning there is a tacit descriptive content capable of identifying the person or thing which is the object of reference of the name,12 or else there is within the name a mode of presentation capable of leading to the accomplishment of this identification. In order for the identification of an object of reference to be effected by means of a name, it is necessary for the name to communicate to the hearer a semantic 9 See J. R. Searle, Speech Acts: An Essay in the Philosophy of Language, Cambridge 1970 (1969), 170. 10 See G. Frege, 'Über Sinn und Bedeutung', Zeitschrift für Philosophie und philosophische Kritik, NF 100 (1892), 25–50, reprinted in Function, Begriff, Bedeutung: Fünf logische Studien, G. Patzig (ed.), Göttingen 1969, 40–65, esp. 41. 11 See ibid., 43–44. At this point it is worth recalling what Kurt von Fritz so acutely pointed out: that in the case of Cratylus' argument, a name is connected neither with the sub- jective human apprehension (subjektive Vorstellung) to which a real being may or may not be subject, nor with a human apprehension which is objectified or rendered absolute and thus made transcendent, even coming to coincide with the real being itself; instead, an incorrect address or false "name" is connected with the real, objectively existing person, whose real existence is apprehended in an absolutely direct manner, without the mediation of any inter- nal presentation (Vorstellung). See K. von Fritz, 'Zur antisthenischen Erkenntnistheorie und Logik', Hermes 62 (1927), 453–484, esp. 457–458. 12 See the examples in the chapter entitled 'Names and Descriptions' in D. Sedley, op. cit., 162–163. 78 79 content possessing truth value in relation to the particular object of ref- erence.13 In fact this descriptive content enclosed within a name's meaning communicates to the receivers of the name a certain message – a cer- tain statement – which is possessed of truth value, being equivalent to a description identifying the intended person.14 The Cratylean argumentation surrounds falsity and secures its denial from two different directions:15 from the side of beings – because the truth of things does exist, and it undoubtedly has an affinity with the logos on which it is projected, since there is no other way for man to come into contact with beings than through intellection and speech16 –, but also from the side of names, because it presupposes that names pos- sess essentially one meaning which precedes and determines reference, and that they refer to something on sole condition that there exists one and only one thing which is adequate to this meaning.17 According to Cratylus, the disturbance of a name's composition disturbs and distorts its designating function, with the result that its meaning becomes dis- torted and reference fails to be accomplished (435b3–d1). If the basic function of a name – namely, that of designating – fails to be carried out, then the name does not even subsist. Socrates shows that reference does in fact succeed; he does so, however, without entirely taking apart the natural relation of name to thing, but by demonstrating instead that convention and custom more generally also enter into this relation. Sedley is right to point out that Socrates appears willing to adopt a weaker, appro- priately amended version of Cratylus' argument that names must either be absolutely correct (= veridical) or not be names at all. The Socratic ver- sion is that names must either contain some truth or not be names at all.18 Starting from the Cratylean claim of a univocal correspondence of name to thing, it is possible to trace two lines of influence which reach 13 See J. R. Searle, op. cit., 171. 14 Indeed, Searle criticizes Frege – who regarded proper names as possessing meanings – for having construed the identifying description which may be substituted for a name as a definition. See J. R. Searle, op. cit., 170. 15 False speaking (pseudē legein), i.e. 'not saying things that are' (mē ta onta legein), as Cratylus interprets it at 429d5–6, is impossible in both ways: we cannot not say things that are, but neither can we say things that are as they are not. 16 Cf. E Tugendhat, ΤΙ ΚΑΤΑ ΤΙΝΟΣ: Eine Untersuchung zu Struktur und Ursprung aristotelischer Grundbegriffe, Freiburg / München 1958, 3. 17 Cf. J. R. Searle, 'Proper Names', in Philosophical Logic, P. F. Strawson (ed.), Oxford 1967, 89–96; 92. Cf. also J. R. Searle, Speech Acts, op. cit., 92. The basic question in the Cratylus is similar to the one which has been raised in the contemporary philosophy of language: whether names simply designate or denote, i.e. have reference but not meaning, whereupon they are absolutely conventional and transferable signs, or whether they connote, i.e. essen- tially possess meaning, whereupon it is possible for them through their meaning to allude to a singular significatum or to refer to a singular thing, insofar as it and it alone satisfies this meaning. 18 See D. Sedley, op. cit., 153 on Plato, Cratylus, 435b–c. 80 to the heart of Platonic logic and ontology. The first is the one which has to do with the condition of homonymy that governs the relation of the platonic Forms to sensible particulars. Names are bestowed on the incontrovertibly existent, i.e. the Forms, from which sensible objects derive their own eponymous appellations; and it is precisely the eponymous appellation that sensibles borrow by homonymy from their Form which constitutes an index of the participation of the many in the one.19 As real beings, the Platonic Forms are the primary objects of reference designated by names, and it is to them that the meanings of names exclusively cor- respond. Sensible objects are instead relegated to a secondary sphere of reference.20 The other line of influence is the one which leads as far as the sense of the Socratic question 'What is F?' which, according to one line of interpretation, may consist in a search for the one and unique meaning of the term F, and may be possessed of a purely semantic-con- stitutive (and thereby exegetical) dimension.21 Although there is a pas- sage in the Charmides (163d) which appears to declare that Socrates is indifferent to names and that what matters is not what a thing is called, but what it is, another passage in the same dialogue (175b) denies, in our view, the impression one gains from the previous passage, and shows that there is a strong linkage of name to thing by way of a name's meaning, which is what is being sought after.22 Of course, because of the nature and special concerns of the dialogue, the search for a unique meaning in the Cratylus is associated with etymology, through which is decoded whatever mimetic operation has taken place. By contrast, wherever else the Socratic 'What is F?' question is raised, the description of the manner of being of the quaesitum contained in the meaning is not as- sociated with any linguistic analysis. If we peel off the veneer of truth gilding the sense of Cratylus' argumentation, we will be able to detect, according to our reading, two influences at work: first, and more specifically, that of Prodicus' 'syn- onymic', with its tendency towards verbal precision and its fine and elegant distinctions of meaning which combat the tendency towards a levelling use of words and promote instead a deontology of a logico-lin- 19 See Plato, Phaedo, 102b1–2. 20 For the interpretation according to which Plato – by distinguishing between a primary and a secondary sphere of reference of names, to correspond with the distinction between Forms and sensibles – took a first step in the direction of distinguishing between meaning and reference, an issue related to the condition of homonymy, see G. B. Kerferd, The Sophistic Movement, Cambridge 1981, 76. 21 See G. Vlastos, 'What did Socrates Understand by His "What is F?" Question?', in id., Platonic Studies, Princeton 1973, 410–417. 22 See Plato, Charmides, 175b2–4 tr. Sprague: 'But now we have got the worst of it in every way and are unable to discover to which one of existing things the lawgiver gave this name, temperance'. 81 guistic kind according to which no two words should be employed as if they had exactly the same meaning;23 second, and more generally, the way of considering the relation of name to thing which had been adopted on the one hand by Sophistic circles, and on the other by the circles of other Socratics such as, e.g., Antisthenes. Should the diagnosis of these tendencies be judged to be well-found- ed, then, in contrast to Sedley's assessment, we believe that even when compared with the treatment of falsity in the Sophist, it is by no means striking that the Socratic refutation of Cratylus' argument testifies to a lack of interest on the part of Plato in the syntactic structure of a given sentence.24 The emphasis indeed falls – as is evident from the specific example Socrates adduces at 429a – on the immediate forms of con- nection between name and thing, such as direct speech and, more par- ticularly, direct address using the vocative case, or such as an isolated word regarded as a dēlōma, a means of making something known, i.e. a name.25 23 See R. Pfeiffer, History of Classical Scholarship, Oxford 1968, 39–42; also G. B. Kerferd, op. cit., 70 and W. K. C. Guthrie, The Sophists, Cambridge 1971, 278–279 n. 2. Con- versely, C. J. Classen holds that the view underlying Prodicus' Synonymic and the technique which he employed, the 'division of names' (dihairesis onomatōn), is something entirely dif- ferent from the 'natural correctness of names' (phusei orthotēs) propounded by the Heracletean Cratylus in the homonymous dialogue. Classen's principal argument is that Prodicus never defines words individually, but invariably examines two words at a time side by side, pointing out their differences; consequently, he never poses the question, 'What exactly is X?', but only the question, 'In what does X differ from Y?'. Classen does however admit that on the one hand we are ignorant of the extent to which Prodicus made use of (or benefited from) the traditional method of describing the sense of a word, which consisted in stating its etymology as this was understood at the time, and on the other hand that Prodicus' dihairesis had some affinity with the Platonic method of division; see C. J. Classen, 'The Study of Language Amongst Socrates' Contemporaries', in Sophistik, C. J. Classen (ed.), Darmstadt 1976, 215–247, esp. 231–235. We insist on the view that the matrix from which emerged both the Cratylean argu- mentation on the correctness of names and the fine verbal distinctions of Prodicus must have been the same, just as in both cases the quaesitum, namely the precise meaning to be attached to a word, is the same, because in order to answer the question 'In what does X differ from Y?' one must first answer the questions 'What exactly is X?' and 'What exactly is Y?'. Further- more, yet another manifestation of the general Sophistic exigency for an absolute correspon- dence of language to reality and lexical precision must have been the exigency for 'correct diction' (orthoepeia), which is testified to at 267c of the Phaedrus as having formed part of Protagoras' teaching. The scholiast Hermeias reports in his comment on Phaedrus 267a that Prodicus 'discovered the precision of names' (tēn tōn onomatōn heuren akribeian), while in his comment on 267c he interprets Protagoras' orthoepeia as kuriolexia, explaining that what he means by the latter term is that Protagoras made use in his speech of proper names (kuria onomata), not of similes (parabolai) or epithets. See Hermeiae Alexandrini, In Platonis Phaedrum Scholia, P. Couvreur (ed.), Paris 1901 (Hildesheim 1971), 238.22–23 and 239.14–16. Classen notes that Protagoras' attempt to encourage the use of the appropriate word on the appropriate occasion and its appropriate integration into the context of a sentence or an argument presupposes the most exact knowledge of the meaning of each individual word; see C. J. Classen, op. cit., 231. 24 See D. Sedley, op. cit., 133. 25 Ibid., 133–134. Besides, whenever in the Cratylus Plato refers to an onoma without referring in parallel to its function in the context of a sentence, what he has in mind, as evidenced also by the words he chooses to etymologize, are all linguistic terms or categories of words, 82 Consequently the emphasis falls on types of elementary speech in which it is not necessary that predication becomes involved for them to acquire truth value or disvalue. We fully concur in Sedley's assessment26 that whereas in the Sophist truth and falsity enter into Plato's field of in- vestigation only at the level of full sentences, of complete statements, which consist in the interweaving of names and verbs (precisely be- cause the ontology of the communion of Forms is by now reflected at the level of the truth sought in the domain of logic, and 'truth in things' finds its correlate in 'truth in speech'27), in the Cratylus no such limi- tation applies. Whereas the seeds of the predicational model of truth, as Sedley rightly observes,28 are to be seen in the Cratylus, and are most in evidence at 425a and 431b–c, it is only in the Sophist that the relation between the terms of a proposition and the unity of a statement are fully interpreted, since it is there that truth and falsity – at the level of complete statement –are for the first time established and demonstrated philosophically through the construction of that particular ontology which allows for and explains the communion of Forms. Indeed, as Sedley notes,29 in the Cratylus truth and falsity are to be sought and already to be found even in the utterance of an ill-fitting form of address – or, we would add, of an inappropriate name – before any type of propositional criterion of truth, such as e.g. predication, comes into the picture. Hence here, in the Cratylus, we have to do with the attestation of the existence of extra-propositional truth and falsity extending beyond the limits of predication, i.e. beyond the limits of formal logic. Perhaps, indeed, this form of en tois logois alētheia which excludes predication, i.e. the interweaving of significations accomplished within the purview of discursive reason,30 is the one closest to en tois pragmasin alētheia. The explanation Sedley provides of the reasons why Socrates con- centrated his attention on cases of incorrect addressing or naming rather than cases of incorrect statement is in our opinion correct, but it is not complete. Indeed, on a first reading a plausible philosophical motive does appear to be that incorrect addressing, 'involving as it does the syncategorematic ones excepted: proper names, common nouns, abstract nouns, adjectives, verbs, participles, infinitives; see R. Demos, 'Plato's Philosophy of Language', The Journal of Philosophy 61 (1964), 595–610, esp. 598–599, as well as R. J. Ketchum, "Names, Forms and Conventionalism: Cratylus, 383–395', Phronesis 24 (1979), 133–147, esp. 133. 26 See D. Sedley, op. cit., 163. 27 The distinction of truth en pragmasin from truth en logois kai apophansesin is one we have encountered in ancient commentaries in the context of discussions of the veridical states of the soul in book VI of the Nicomachaean Ethics. See Eustratius, In ethica Nicomachea commentaria, G. Heylbut (ed.), CAG XX, Berolini 1892, 289.34–290.5. 28 See D. Sedley, op. cit., 164. 29 Ibid., 163–164. 30 See again n. 22 above. 83 direct attachment of names to things without the intermediation of the copula or other syntactical devices, is the kind of naming, or name-al- location, most closely analogous to inaccurate correspondence between words and the objects we attach them to in our lexical usage'.31 In our opinion, however, a more profound philosophical motive for Plato is the challenge to prove the existence of falsity – and to compel his philo- sophical opponents into accepting it – in the area which excludes predi- cational judgement, because Sophistic circles (the main representative of this tendency having been, according to the testimony of Aristotle, Lycophron32), but also Socratic circles (such as Antisthenes, the Megarians and the Eretrians, according to the ancient tradition), for a multitude of reasons connected once more with the fundamental assumptions bequeathed by Parmenidean ontology, either cast doubt on the unity of the statement, raising the old philosophical problem of the relation of the one/being to the many,33 or denied the use of the verb 'is' (esti) as a copula, going so far as to maintain that one must predicate 'nothing of anything' (mēden kata mēdenos), but that of each thing only itself may be affirmed (e.g. 'man man' and 'white white');34 this being a subject on which there was a widely acknowledged dispute between Plato and the aforementioned circles.35 31 See D. Sedley, op. cit., 136. 32 See Aristotle, Physica I 2, 185b25–32. 33 According to E. Kapp, the minimum service we must acknowledge Antisthenes to have performed is that by raising the problem of the unity of statement, he forced Plato for once, at least, to write 'a chapter of very plain logic'. See E. Kapp, Greek Foundations of Traditional Logic, New York 1942, 53–59. On the fact that Antisthenean logic acted as an important incentive in leading Plato to confront the problem of the unity of statement, see M. Heidegger, Plato's Sophist, tr. R. Rojcewicz and A. Schuwer, Bloomington and Indianapolis 1997, 346–347. 34 According to one received interpretation of the Antisthenean theory as reconstructed from the available testimony and comments, it is not permissible, in respect of simple subjects, to make a prediction, but only a 'proprietary statement' (oikeios logos), i.e. a tautological judgement; see K. Oehler, Die Lehre vom noetischen und dianoetischen Denken bei Platon und Aristoteles: Ein Beitrag zur Erforschung der Geschichte des Bewusstseinsproblem in der Antike, München 1962, 33–35; see also M. Heidegger, op. cit., 348. As regards the Megarians, we have it on authority that Stilpon did not allow predication 'of one thing by another' (heteron heterou); see K. Döring, Die Megariker: Kommentierte Sammlung der Testimonien, Amsterdam 1972, 59–60, fr. 197. This extreme tendency is also attributed by Simplicius to the members of the School of Eretria; see Simplicius, In Aristotelis physicorum libros quattuor priores commentaria, H. Diels (ed.), CAG IX, Berolini 1882, 91.28–31. Philoponus attributes it more particularly to Menedemus of Eretria; see Ioannis Philoponus, In Aristotelis physicorum libros tres priores commentaria, H. Vitelli (ed.), CAG XVI, Berolini 1887, 49.18–19. It was of course correct of Guthrie to observe that as Stilpon and Menedemus are both later figures, they could not have constituted targets for Plato. Yet there is a thread connecting all three, because it may be the case that all of these objections to predication are traceable in the end to the founder of the Megarian School, Euclides, who must have had discussions and vivid disagreements with Plato when the latter stayed with him after the death of Socrates. Euclides influenced Stilpo and through him Menedemus, the latter's student. See W. K. C. Guthrie, op. cit., 217. 35 See Plato, Sophist, 251a–e. 84 Also worth noting, however, is the remark of Rachel Barney36 on the difference in treatment of the question of falsity between the two passages in the Cratylus (385b–d and 429b–431c), according to which the course of the argument during the discussion with Hermogenes runs in the opposite direction to the one during the discussion with Cratylus: in the former case the possibility of speaking truly or falsely is agreed to first, and from it is inferred the possible truth or falsity of its smallest part, i.e. the name; while in the latter case the possibility of true or false assignment of names and verbs, which is argued for at 431b1–431c1 just after the deployment of the dianomē argument, is taken as given, and from it is inferred the necessary truth or falsity of the combination of names and verbs, i.e. of statements. The different course followed in each case in the search for a philosophical grounding of falsity in contradis- tinction to truth is obviously connected to the different position which Plato wishes to undermine in each of these passages. Protagorean subjectivism assails truth at the roots of logos, at its smallest parts, rendering name-giving an arbitrary lexical act, while Socrates' linguistic naturalism obviously promotes the correctness of imitation and its gradations precisely in order to introduce a criterion of truth at the primary level of language, the name. Conversely, the neo-Eleaticism of the Sophists and the Socratic circles opposed to Plato assails truth mainly at the level of the combination or interweaving of names and verbs, i.e. at the level of complete statement, through the device of limiting truth value to names and through the parallel attempt of totally excluding falsity even at the linguistic level of names, an attempt based for the main part on the immediate relation of logos to reality which had been established by Parmenidean logic and epistemology. The imperativeness of the need to combat especially those arguments against the possibility of falsity which had been developed under the influence of the Parmenidean theory of the absolute fittingness and correspondence of logos with the truth of things, with ontological truth, is evidenced by the fact that, in spite of the different aims of the two passages of the Cratylus, and in spite of the circumstance that in the first of these (385b–d) it is principally the Protagorean denial of falsity that is being targeted, the central thrust of Plato's response, i.e. the counter-argument that one speaks falsely when one states things that are as they are not, is also present there, at 385b7–8. 36 See R. Barney, Names and Nature in Plato's Cratylus, New York and London, 2001, 181. 85 BIBLIOGRAPHY Barney, R. 2001. Names and Nature in Plato's Cratylus. New York and Lon- don: Routledge. Classen, C. J. 1959. 'The Study of Language amongst Socrates' Contempo- raries'. The Proceedings of the African Classical Associations 2, 33–49. Reprinted 1976 in C. J. Classen (ed.), Sophistik, Darmstadt: Wissenschaft- liche Buchgesellschaft, 215–247. Couvreur, P. (ed.). 1901. Hermeiae Alexandrini in Platonis Phaedrum Scholia. Paris: Librairie Émile Bouillon. Reprinted 1971, Hildesheim and New York: Georg Olms. Demos, R. 1964. 'Plato's Philosophy of Language'. The Journal of Philosophy 61, 595–610. Diels, H. (ed.). 1882. Simplicii in Aristotelis physicorum libros quattuor priores commentaria. CAG IX. Berolini: Academiae Litterarum Regiae Borus- sicae. Döring, K. 1972. Die Megariker: Kommentierte Sammlung der Testimonien. Amsterdam: B. R. Grüner. Frege, G. 1892. 'Über Sinn und Bedeutung'. Zeitschrift für Philosophie und philosophische Kritik, NF 100, 25–50. Reprinted 1969(1962) in G. Patzig (ed.), Function, Begriff, Bedeutung: Fünf logischen Studien. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 40–65. von Fritz, K. 1927. 'Zur antisthenischen Erkenntnistheorie und Logik". Hermes 62, 453–484. Guthrie, W. K. C. 1971. Τhe Sophists. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Heidegger, M. 1997. Plato's Sophist. Tr. by R. Rojcewicz and A Schuwer. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press. Heylbut, G. (ed.). 1892. Eustratii in ethica Nicomachea commentarii. In CAG XX. Berolini: Academiae Litterarum Regiae Borussicae. Kapp, E. 1942. Greek Foundations of Traditional Logic. New York 1942: Co- lumbia University Press. Kerferd, G. B. 1981. The Sophistic Movement. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer- sity Press. Ketchum, R. J. 1979. 'Names, Forms and Conventionalism: Cratylus, 383–395'. Phronesis 24, 133–147. Mouzala, M. G. 2011. 'Names and Falsity in Plato's Cratylus'. Journal of Classical Studies Matica Srpska 13, 51–77. Oehler, K. 1962. Die Lehre vom noetischen und dianoetischen Denken bei Platon und Aristoteles: Ein Beitrag zur Erforschung der Geschichte des Bewusstseinsproblems in der Antike. München: C. H. Beck. Pfeiffer, R. 1968. History of Classical Scholarship: From the Beginning to the End of the Hellenistic Age. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Searle, J. R. 1967. 'Proper Names'. In P. F. Strawson (ed.), Philosophical Logic. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 89–96. Searle, J. R. 1969. Speech Acts: An Essay in the Philosophy of Language. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Sedley, D. 2003. Plato's Cratylus. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 86 Smith, I. 2008. 'False Names, Demonstratives and the Refutation of Linguistic Naturalism in Plato's Cratylus 427d1–431c3'. Phronesis 53, 125–151. Tugendhat, E. 1958. ΤΙ ΚΑΤΑ ΤΙΝΟΣ: Eine Untersuchung zu Structur und Ursprung Aristotelischer Grundbegriffe. Symposion 2. Freiburg/München: Karl Alber. Vitelli, H. (ed.). 1887. Ioannis Philoponi in Aristotelis Physicorum libros tres priores commentaria. CAG XVI. Berolini: Academiae Litterarum Regiae Borussicae. Vlastos, G. 1976. 'What did Socrates Understand by His "What is F?" Ques- tion?'. In id., Platonic Studies. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 410– 417. Williams, B. 1982. 'Cratylus' Theory of Names and its Refutation'. In Μ. Schofield and M. Nussbaum (eds.), Language and Logos. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 83–93. Mελίνα Γ. Μουζάλα Πάτρας ΠΕΡΙ ΤΗΣ ΚΡΑΤΥΛΕΙΑΣ ΕΠΙΧΕΙΡΗΜΑΤΟΛΟΓΙΑΣ ΥΠΕΡ ΤΗΣ ΟΡΘΟΤΗΤΟΣ ΤΩΝ ΟΝΟΜΑΤΩΝ ΣΤΟΝ ΚΡΑΤΥΛΟ ΤΟΥ ΠΛΑΤΩΝΟΣ Περίληψις Το ερώτημα περί της ονομάτων ορθότητος έχει για τον Πλάτωνα μία διάσταση που συνδέεται με την δυνατότητα της αποφάνσεως, της αληθούς ή της ψευδούς δηλώσεως. Ο Πλάτων στον Κρατύλο θεματοποιεί την σχέση του ονόματος με τον αληθή και τον ψευδή λόγον. Στην μελέτη αυτή επιχειρούμε την διερεύνηση δύο χωρίων (385b-d και 429b-430b), στα οποία ο Πλάτων ελέγχει την άρνηση εκείνης της μορφής του ψεύδους στην οποίαν ενέχεται το όνομα. Η έρευνά μας αποκαλύπτει ότι πιο δύσκολα αντιμετωπίσιμη από την Πρωταγόρεια άρνηση του ψεύδους είναι η Κρατύλεια εκδοχή αυτής της αρνήσεως, διότι η δεύτερη προϋποθέτει την αλήθεια των πραγμάτων και ανάγεται στην Σοφιστική επιχειρηματολογία περί πλήρους και αποκλειστικής αντιστοιχίας μεταξύ ονόματος και πράγματος, η οποία έχει διαμορφωθεί υπό την επίδραση της Παρμενίδειας θεωρίας περί αμέσου συνδέσεως του είναι, του νοείν και του λέγειν. Υποστηρίζουμε ότι από την ίδια θεωρία έχει επηρεασθεί και ο Πλάτων ως προς την αντίληψη περί μοναδικής σημασίας του ονόματος, η οποία απηχείται τόσο στο Σωκρατικό-Πλατωνικό ερώτημα «τί έστιν Χ», όσο και στο καθεστώς της ομωνυμίας μεταξύ είδους και αισθητών, εντός του πλαισίου της Θεωρίας των Ιδεών. 87 UDC 821.14'02-2.09 Sophocles 821.14'02-2.09 Euripides Victor Castellani University of Denver SUPPLICATION AND REFUGE IN EURIPIDES: VARIATIONS ON A THEME ABSTRACT: More often than in other early writers, more even than Ae- schylus or Sophocles, Euripides dramatizes the plight of suppliants and refuges and other stressed petitioners. He exploits their physical movements for striking theatrical effect. Whether they seek from a powerful human protection against a threatening enemy or positive assistance toward a particular goal, or take refuge at an altar, sanctuary, or some sacred object, their presence makes for an impressive tableau; their actions and the hesitation or rejection they meet, reluctant acceptance (or none at all) makes for exciting drama. If their petition is granted, the actual and effective motivation for the help they get is usually complicated. Neither pure sympathy, nor reverence for Zeus of Suppliants or that for some sacred place, suffices. Indeed the protector or helper is often driven by dubious personal motives, even a sexual urge. On the other hand, the petition can be rejected on the human level, or divine intervention come too late. The body of the article examines the double themes of supplication and refuge or asylum in three sections: (1) the pair of so-called "suppliant plays", namely Children of Heracles and Suppliants, where supplication and refuge coincide neatly throughout; (2) the nine plays where the theme occurs once, or only two or three times: Cyclops, Hippolytus, Ion, Electra, Iphigenia among the Taurians, Trojan Women, Phoenician Women, Orestes, and Bacchae; and (3) half a dozen disturbing works during which supplication, with or without asylum plays as it were variations on our theme, where moral judgments and theological questions confront us: Medea and Hecuba, Andromache and Hera- cles, Helen and Iphigenia at Aulis. From all this we can conclude that in desperate crises pity and piety may help little, if at all–indeed, may unintentionally do harm. We dare trust neither men nor gods, especially since the Olympians are often divided, people on earth weak in actual ability and morality. The best 88 persons are all too easy to persuade–or to overwhelm; nevertheless, hu- man kindness now and then is able to do some good. Only Euripides' relatively early suppliant plays permit us to hope for something better, because the supplication there is carefully, justly tested, and Athenian moral courage, not without divine help, defeats evil adversaries. The name Supplication, ἱκεσία or ἱκετεία, and the personal cate- gory Suppliants (alternatively "supplicants": like Naiden [see note] I use the former), that is, ἱκέται belong to a well-studied institution of pre-historic, archaic, and classical Greece.1 In fact, it identifies a cluster of institutions, including more than the Latin divine supplicatio from which we "borrow" the first English term or supplex which we imitate the second. The outstanding recent study entitled The Art of Euripides by Donald Mastronarde among its carefully analyzed types of action, scene, and entire plays and of characters' plights has a great deal to say about suppliants and supplication, and not only in Euripides.2 Mastronarde's approach, however, is somewhat different than that taken here in its concentration on socio-political aspects of Euripidean drama. In this much more limited study I treat supplication for its "optic" value, as Aristotle might say, for its theatricality, as well as for its pathetic and, occasionally, for its ironic effect within the scenes where the playwright carefully deploys the theme. No very good or great author ever uses the same device twice in exactly the same way–unless to make a special point. That is a truism. Exact repetitions where they do occur are themselves deliberate and mean- ingful. In the case of supplication, however, Euripides seems boldly to vary the theme between plays and, more significantly yet, within plays such as Medea, Hecuba, and Andromache. We may find an irony in that the two most manifestly "suppliant" plays, Children of Heracles and the one named Suppliants, are relatively straightforward; and, although in the latter (as Mastronarde notes with emphasis, pp. 80–82) the Athenian hero-king Theseus surprisingly resists supplication for a time, it turns out "as it should" because it is a type scene upon whose very typicality the playwright depend–and upon which he plays variations, some subtle, some shocking. 1 See F. S. Naiden, Ancient Supplication (Oxford: Oxford Univserity Press, 2006, for a comprehensive study of the cultural and historic development of the institution, with religious, ethical, and legal aspects. Naiden is interested in the human relationship between suppliants and "supplicandi," especially in the latters' rejection of supplication (tabulated for Greek tragedy on p. 163). 2 D. Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 89 As a dramatic, theatrical device on the tragic as well as on the comic stage the tableau the formally begging or wordlessly huddling person or persons is familiar to all who study ancient literature. This, too, has been studied.3 The most famous of all ancient tragedies, Oedipus Tyrannos, opens with a spectacular scene of supplication. The quasi-paternal ruler of Thebes receives a suppliant crowd, led by their spokesman a priest of Zeus, who beseech him, as they do gods elsewhere in Thebes, to relieve them somehow from the terrible plague that besets their city and its en- virons (OT 14–57). Even more sensational is the opening of Aeschylus' Libation Bearers (Choephoroi) staged a generation earlier, where amid the notoriously horrific sleeping Erinyes matricide Orestes at the Delphic omphalos successfully appeals to, indeed summons Apollo for protection (Eum. 34–87). Supplication typically involves a stop-action tableau on the stage (or in the orchestra, if the altar there is its site) and a more or less pressing crisis in the mythic story. I propose to analyze the phenomenon differ- ently than others. First I would divide the event distinct types and sub- types, each with its own dynamics and visual character, and each offering a challenge to the person to whom the supplication is directed and or to a third party. Then we shall consider how it works in two plays dominated by multiple suppliants, in several others where there is a single, if striking incident, sometimes off stage and reported, and finally in half a dozen plays where contrasting supplications–plural–occur in an often ironic, always a visually memorable sequence. TYPES OF SUPPLICATION, WITH OR WITHOUT ASYLUM One type is person to person. Let me name it Type A. It must always be visually striking in tragic theater where physical contact between char- acters is sparse.4 A weak person, usually old or female–or both–grasps the knees and if possible touches beard, chin, or cheeks and, best, clasps the hand or hands of a more powerful individual.5 The suppliant may 3 On broad literary ramifications of supplication from Iliad onward see J. Gould, "Hiketeia," in Journal of Hellenic Studies 93 (1973), 74–103, to which, however, Naiden's magisterial study offers important qualifications and correctives, particularly to its failures, partial or complete. Occurrences in the theater of Dionysus, beginning with its repeated central role in the oeuvre of Aeschylus, are treated by J. Kopperschmidt, Die Hikesie als dramatische Form. Zur motivischen Interpretation ges griechischen Drama (Tübingen: Eberhard-Karls- -Universität, 1967). His treatment of Euripidean drama occupies pp. 129–218. He devotes much attention to a triangulation among suppliant, supplicandus (Naiden's useful term), and „enemy" (xxxx), i.e. the person or persons who threaten the suppliant/s. 4 See M. Kaimio, Physical Contact in Greek Tragedy: A Study of Stage Conventions (Helsinki: Suomaliainen Tiedeakatemia, 1988). 5 If the hands are indeed joined the audience must think back to the most sublime suppli- cation in the Greek cultural tradition, that of Priam to Achilles, narrated in Iliad 24 (477–508) 90 either be alone or represent others besides him- or herself; and the person supplicated may also represent others, even an entire kingdom or an army (that is, a kind of state), often as its head. Some suppliants (A1) are literally Schutzflehende, persons urgently seeking shelter from pur- suers far or near, a negative request. Others (A2) seek a positive favor, assistance or at least acquiescence in a desired action beyond their own power or within the supplicated person's power to prevent or punish. The A2 kind is somewhat less common, though it has a venerable model in Thetis' interview with Zeus himself in Iliad 1. A good person may be put in the uncomfortable position of having to grant a difficult or danger- ous boon. The suppliant, moreover, may grovel on dubious moral ground, either already guilty of something or proposing action that could well be wrongful. Medea in the play named after her implores Aegeus for protection at Athens once she does whatever she intends at Corinth, 'no questions asked.' Occasionally these two purposes are combined. 'Help us against so-and-so' may press for both defensive and offensive intervention. Euripides' Suppliants is a prime example, where Athenian armies take the field against the Thebans to permit burial of five of the Seven attacking chiefs themselves and of their fallen troops. The other major type, Type B, has nothing to do with knees or other parts of a living. Breathing mortal, but rather involves physical contact with some sacred object, an altar or the foot of a statue of a god or a tomb. Here the aim is always what I am calling negative, that is, protec- tive asylum is the object.6 Sometimes–often in fact–the genus ἱκεσία or ἱκετεία radically refers to any emergency "arriving" (from the verb ἵκω, related to the more common prose verb ἱκνέομαι), and not necessarily to a relationship, directly, to a living person whom Naiden calls the sup- plicandus. Sacred space or a holy object (ἱερός, sacer) can, or should impersonally–ipso tacto, as it were–give shelter, although some θεός or δαίμων is behind it. Naiden counts such gods among supplicandi. Zeus Hiketesios is also behind every such desperate resort.7 One may, however, believe that when an altar of Zeus himself is the goal of the flight the Olympian's attention is especially engaged. Or should be. 6 Such an event can be pictorially exciting when an evil attacker does not respect asy- lum. Vase paintings of two are numerous: of Neoptolemus killing Priam upon the altar of Zeus Herkeios, of "Little" Ajax seizing Cassandra from beneath the very shield of an Athena Promachos). Scholarly writing about asylum tends to be of limited pertinence to my discussion. For example, R. Gorman, "Poets, Playwrights, and the Politics of Exile and Asylum in Ancient Greece and Rome," International Journal of Refugee Law 6:3 (1994), 402–424, is short on religious aspects almost to the point of ignoring them, dealing instead with the "right" of refugees and exiles. 7 This is a later development from the Odyssey-poet's formula, spoken by Nausicaä (Od. 6,207f.) and Eumaeus (14.57f.), that "all strangers and beggars are from Zeus." For them, 91 Both of these types can involve a dual challenge to the person who receives, however unwillingly, a supplication. Will he (rarely: she) have human compassion on the petitioners? If not, will the presumed attention of "Zeus of Suppliants" move a reluctant him (or her) to compliance? More persons than one may be challenged by a supplication, albeit in very different ways. If the supplicated being is a god or goddess, will she or he miracu- lously support the seeker/s of positive help or of defensive asylum? Or will the support depend upon unmiraculous events on the mortal plane–which may seem more accidental than providential? The issue is a vital one in the Heracles, where whether Zeus Σώτηρ by the timely return of his heroic son belatedly yet effectively defends other descend- ants of his is a central question that every viewer or reader must ask, for their human savior soon becomes their destroyer. Or will an angry, often a murderous enemy of vulnerable suppliant/s nevertheless respect the sacredness of a holy object and adjoining space, in awe of the associated divinity? (In a unique case, in Helen, the absent- -present influence is King Theoclymenus' father Proteus who, for the sake of the play's lust of his less moral son. Helen takes refuge at Proteus' tomb, with not her life but her conjugal loyalty and virtue under siege.8) TWO SUPPLIANTS PLAYS Let us begin with Euripides' pair of extant dramas named after sup- pliant groups.9 In Children of Heracles an uncertain but significant number however, only a gift, more alms than protection or assistance, is at stake. Odysseus had supplicated the princess–in words, though at a distance and not by physical contact (6.141–179). His approach to Eumaeus, on the other hand, is a beggar's, and his prayer to Zeus (14.33f.) does not depart from the pose as a beggar. 8 A parallel of sorts is a sequence in the second half of Sophocles' Ajax during which Tecmessa and her toddler son Eurysaces huddle for protection beside the unburied corpse of the title character. Nervous stances of first Menelaus, then of Agamemnon may suggest their own lingering, cowardly fear of the man. Or do they, like the Achaeans in Iliad 22 over dead Hector, poke their weapons into someone they dreaded when he was alive. Either way, their relationship to their deceased personal enemy is as different as can be from that of his two children Theoclymenus and Theonoë to Proteus! Nevertheless dead Ajax protects his son Eurysaces, his spear-won mate Tecmessa, and his half-brother Teucer. 9 The classic treatment of the two remains G. Züntz, The Political Plays of Euripides (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1963). A more recent study, emphasizing the place of women in the "democratic" city-state, is D. Mendelssohn, Gender and the City in Euripides' Political Plays (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), who con- cludes that, in these plays though not only in them, "the representation of feminine emotion and suffering should be seen as a means rather than a theatrical end in itself–a means of cri- tiquing, sometimes with mordant irony, the political decisions of powerful men in the real historical world, by showing the effects of those decisions on other: females, children, he weak, non-Greeks" (225). Kopperschmidt pp. 129–143 (Suppliants) and 144–160 (Children of Heracles) analyzes both plays in some detail. 92 of these, varied in age but all young, plus their much older old cousin Iolaus and Alcmena, the ancient grandmother of them all, do the suppli- cating; in Suppliants mothers and young children of warriors who fell attacking Thebes are the chorus. Each group is led by an old man. Adras- tus and Iolaus are both made, in order to amplify their personal pathos, implausibly old.10 In both scenarios a hostile herald from abroad melo- dramatically threatens them, ignoring their sanctuary respectively at a temple of Zeus Agoraios in Marathon and by a temple of Demeter at Eleusis–both on sacred Attic ground. He also discounts personal protec- tion sought from and promised by reigning kings of Athens. Theseus and an Athenian army in the latter play, as will, as already mentioned, in- vade Theban territory to satisfy suppliants' and the gods' demand that the dead lying still on the battlefield be allowed burial. In the former, Theseus' sons take the field against invaders from the Argolid. The first hundreds of lines of these two plays are replete with refer- ences to the material as well as the spiritual circumstances of supplica- tion–a bit knees and beards, as usual, but also garlands or other insignia, on the one hand, and very frequent, almost ostinato mention of altars and other sacred architecture and attentive gods on the other.11 And explicit references to suppliants/supplicating. 12 In both the stylized begging is of the twofold kind, to a god at an altar and to a powerful person. Indeed, the altar practically becomes a mute yet leading character in the drama. Athenian reverence and compassion are salient, but also justice–The- seus has well articulated doubts about Adrastus himself and about the righteousness of the Seven's war aims against Thebes. Moral and religious anxieties are interwoven with national interests and political ideology, where the "kingship" that the Children of Heracles' Demophon (and silent Acastus) exercise, like that of their father Theseus in Suppliants, makes them more resemble Athenian generals than foreign monarchical "tyrants." Gods, too, are involved as well as city-states. In an unpublished paper I have argued that the Attic of tragic dia- logue would have been spoken with accents betraying (for example) barbarian or Greek-Dorian identity of the assorted persons on stage in 10 Adrastos is "white haired" (Supp. 166) despite having led one column in the disastrous attack on Thebes, like the "gray" and white-haired" mothers in the suppliants-chorus, while Iolaus, cousin to Uncle Heracles' children, is "old man" (Hcld. 90, 129, 166, 333, 343, 461, 574, 630, 843) and prays for and is blessed with miraculous rejuvenation so that he can join in the coming battle (740–744, 851–858). 11 Knee: in Hcld. none; Supp. 10, 44, 165,278, 285; beard: Hcld. 227; Supp. 277; hand Hcld. 226, 228, 308; Supp. 165, 278; wreaths: Hcld. 71, 125; Supp. 10, 32, 36, 110, 259, 359; temple, altar (especially), and other sacred structure: Hcld. 61, 73, 79, 121, 124, 127, 196, 238, 244, 249, 341, 344; Supp. 2, 30, 33, 64, 88, 93, 271; Temples: Gods: Hcld.; Supp. 12 Hcld. 33, 70, 94, 101, 17, 123, 196, 224, 246, 254, 345, 364; Supp. 10, 39, 42, 68, 102, 108, 114, 130, 280, 283. 93 contrast to the Attic of Athenians or the unmarked. Especially in these two plays, written and performed during the Archidamian phase of the Peloponnesian War, an ethnic contrast between the voices of the nasty heralds and of the kings of Athens should complement differences in attire, for aural as well as visual antithesis between "good guy" and "bad guy." The morally heroic Athenians come to the aid of other Dorians, however. That the actions,suppliant and belligerent, are all collective makes these plays national-political; that Demophon in Children of Heracles, and that Theseus is given pause by the questionable cause of Adrastus and his son-in-law Polyneices will not sacrifice one of his own citizens, makes each intervention politically responsible–not a knee-jerk reaction to provocation by Eurystheus of Argos or Creon of Thebes, In the name of their fellow citizens and of the gods, the Athenian leaders fight a righteous fight (as the outcome of the reported battles makes clear).13 SCATTERED SUPPLICATIONS In almost every one of Euripides' extant plays a supplications is enacted or (El. 1214f. and Bacc. 1117f.) reported.14 This fact tells us some- thing about this playwright's dramaturgy as well, I think, as his ethical concern. That he seems thereby to have favored mercy as much as he deplored vindictiveness should be more often noted. Even in Cyclops Odysseus supplicates Polyphemus (Cyc. 287, then 299–301), adding this further element of irreligion to the monster's in- hospitality when, of course, he rejects the hero's appeal, even mocks the suppliant act of surrounding an "altar"–here his man-cooking fireplace (Cyc. 345f.). In what follows I offer brief comments on the variety of situations, and the emotional effects and moral crises of the one or two instances of supplication in the several plays where supplication does not rise to 13 In Children of Heracles Euripides makes a clear statement of how, although the gods themselves may be divided on the rights and wrongs–Hera could never sympathize with the children of the hero she so hated–Athena is with them, and Zeus, by whom the suppliants appeal for succor. Zeus: Hcld. 238f. (Demophon: "The greatest [reason to give aid] is Zeus, at whose altar you sit, keeping this flock of nestlings"); Athena: Hcld. 347–352 (Iolaus, who has seen or felt Athena in action while Heracles lived and labored: "We enjoy no inferior gods as allies, lord; for while Hera, wife of Zeus, is their champion, ours is Athena. I declare that this is the sure basis of success, to have better gods, for Pallas will not endure defeat"). 14 I do not, as Naiden does, see supplication in little Eumelus' appear to Alcestis at Alc. 400–4, even adding 399 that would strengthen his case; on the other hand, Naiden misses Pentheus' supplication of Agave in Bacchae. According to the last messenger speech Pentheus touches his raving mother's cheek at 1117f., in response to which, in grotesque parody of ac- cepting a suppliant's appeal by taking his hand, she tears off his entire left arm (1125–128)! the level of major theme (as it does in the six plays that do not fall treated in the concluding section of this paper: Medea, Andromache, and Hecuba, Helen, Heracles, and Iphigenia at Aulis). In Hippolytus the well-meaning but amoral Nurse supplicates both Phaedra (Hipp. 325f.) and Hippolytus (Hipp. 605–607), in the first case to speak up, in the second to keep quiet! It is the physical weakness of Phaedra that forces her eventually to blurt out the truth of her disastrous passion, the oath that Hippolytus' famous "tongue swore, the mind unsworn" (612) that compels him in the tragic end to keep secret the Nurse's outrageous proposition. Both of the good victims of equally amoral Aphrodite might well have been moved by the religious appeal by the goddess' unwitting agent. No supplicating, persistent Nurse, no tragedy. The protagonist Creusa' supplication of Apollo at his external altar in Ion (1255–1260) gives the rapist-god a chance to prevent her death, indirectly, even as he has prevented that of her and his bastard son Ion through a pigeon's spectacular death (Ion 1201–1208). Tellingly Creusa, who has no reason at all to trust the god, must be talked into seeking asylum at his altar: "What benefit is this to me?" she asks when the cho- rus leader proposes that she do so. Here, as evidently in the lost Alcmena (or Amphitryon?), a woman seeks protection against someone "in hot pursuit" of her, who will kill her with justice on his side unless the god who wronged her comes to her aid. She seeks asylum at his altar.15 In that other play Amphitryon seems to have threatened to surround the altar with fire. In the nick of time Zeus revealed Alcmena's innocent seduction, probably through the prophet Tiresias, then (maybe) through a deus ex machina–Hermes? Zeus himself? (Thunder may also have been somehow imitated.) Zeus, of course, is at once the guilty adulterer and the guardian of suppliants. In Ion first the Pythian Prophetess, then Athena set things as right as can be under the awkward, even scandalous circumstances. Apollo does not dare to show his brilliant face. The human catastrophes that are barely averted here anticipate the same embarrass- ments to divine Phoebus that the murderous mess his matricidal command to Orestes has led to by the end of the late play Orestes. Note that Ion is poised to commit matricide here, too! Naiden finds a double, competing supplication in Trojan Women at ll. 1042–1057, following the sordid agōn between Helen and Hecuba argued before Menelaus as a kind of judge. I think he gets the scene wrong. He classifies Hecuba's plea to punish–that is, to kill–Helen as accepted, Helen's plea for her life rejected. His evidence? Menelaus' 15 On reconstruction of the melodramatic almost-tragedy Alcmena see F. Jouan and H. Van Looy, Euripide Tragédies, Tome VIII, 1re partie (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 2002). 94 95 pronounced verdict at Tro. 1037–1039, where he seems to have given up his earlier determination to ship her to Greece for execution there (876– 879). But that is before the supplications! Naiden also claims that "he drags her off stage, vowing to put her to death," citing 1047f.16 But those lines say no such thing. She was dragged onto the stage (Tro. 880–882), but now is turned over to servants to convey to the ship (101047–1048!). No stoning nearby (1039–1041) after all. I would sharply contrast Helen's physical, literally underhanded, seductive contact with her estranged husband's knees (Tro. 1042) with the Trojan queen's more detached appeal in the verb λισσομαι (1045). Hecuba, whose unconventional views about gods and "myth" have been established (Tro. 884–888, 969–990), appeals to his rational, secular sense of responsibility for his dead com- rades and their orphans (1045f.), whereas Helen, who adheres to his body, has used the more powerful kind of suppliant approach (if indeed Hecuba's is a light supplication), has invoked Aphrodite as the cause of her infi- delity, thanks to Paris and his catastrophic "Judgment" and consequently to irresistible Aphrodite (Tro. 924–931 and 948–950). She also applies the religious sanction of suppliant embrace, which is at the same time a sexual enticement. The actual power of Aphrodite is realized before our eyes, never mind that Menelaus has protested that "Aphrodite is inserted into [Helen's] words for the sake of self-promotion" (κόμπου χάριν, 1038f.). Menelaus incongruously jokes about her possible gain in weight (1050), even as–what his action must show–he has been smitten by her enduring beauty. In form he is correct: Though credibly determined to have her killed on the spot after the two women have spoken, he accepts her supplication and spares her. In Iphigenia among the Taurians we find a single supplication (IT 1068–1070), which in a way crystallizes the gendered dynamics of most supplications and of Euripides' pitying female choruses.17 Overwhelm- ingly often, as Naiden notes, women or else weakened "feminized" men are the pathetic seekers of asylum or other urgently needed help. Here Iphigenia supplicates the chorus of Greek women whose sympathy for her is already and long established; this humble appeal seems unneces- sary. It does, however, mark her full return to Greekness. Earlier in the play had come to hate Greeks, and was poised to be a vindictive, willing participant in their sacrifice (IT 342–371. Now, promising somehow to 16 Naiden p. 100 and nn. 421 and 422. His discussion continues onto pp. 101f. He fails to appreciate how the tradition consistently reports that Helen and Menelaus lived ever after, if not happily ever after. In fact, the vase painting illustrated on p. 101 shows the erotic effect of Helen's pleading: a little Eros flits toward Menlaus as he drops his would-be executioner's sword. 17 See my article "The Value of a Kindly Chorus: Female Choruses in Athenian Tragedy," Themes in Drama 11 (1989), 1-18. 96 restore these women, too, to their homeland (1066f.), she uses a broad Greek ritual gesture, whether or not it is theatrically practicable for her to touch all of the choreuts. She also, with sad irony, invokes the mother and father of each, and any children they have (1070f.). Her own parents are nothing to be fond of, and she is and will remain childless. Phoenician Women has a unique combination of one unsuccessfully supplicating person (Creon 923f.), a second who arrives too late to sup- plicate to any purpose (Jocasta, 1429–1435 and 1567–1569), and a third who refuses to supplicate (Oedipus, 1622–1624). Creon fails to persuade Tiresias to withhold the terrible fact that, for victorious Theban defense against the daunting Seven, Creon's young son Menoeceus must be sac- rificed. His sister Jocasta arrives on the battlefield, in a twice reported off-stage incident, after her two sons have already mortally wounded one another. Creon's nephew/brother-in-law, Jocasta's son/husband Oedipus, proudly, so as not to fall beneath his noble pedigree (!), refuses to supplicate Creon in an attempt to prevent threatened exile–and bitter Creon says he was right to do so: it would do him no good (1625f.). In fact, in this pitiless play supplication fails to avert tragedy. In fact, Jocasta kills herself because of that "too late" attempt to save her sons from reciprocal doom, while Oedipus seems to realize that there is no mercy in this troubled world into which the horrified barbarian strangers of the helpless chorus have been thrust. Naiden counts a long scene in the first part of Orestes as a suppli- cation (Or. 380–781). At two points the title character, wracked with debilitating guilt, grasps his uncle Menelaus' knees (382–383 and 670– 673). His second appeal–a second, serial supplication, in fact–is more urgent because in the interval murdered Clytemnestra's angry, eloquent old father Tyndareus has made the moral flimsiness of Orestes' position clear, certainly to craven Menelaus, probably also–as if he needed any more compunction!–to the matricide himself in one of the playwright's finest pieces of lethal rhetorical force (Or. 491–541). Orestes gets nowhere. His reported off-stage effort to talk the Argive judicial assembly out of a capital sentence likewise fails, but he maintains dignity enough in his dubious argument so as not to supplicate. Sophistry is for the public, supplication for intimates. At 1332–1339 Electra lures her innocent cousin Hermione into a trap, beseeching her to join Orestes and herself in supplicating Helen. It is a false supplication, however, since Orestes and Pylades intend to assassinate Helen and hold Hermione hostage against any attempt at revenge her father Menelaus might contemplate. The Phrygian eunuch describes their "suppliant" ambush and their ultimate frustration when they cannot stab Zeus' elusive daughter to death (1408– 1502; supplication at 1414f.: "they threw, they threw suppliant hands both of them around the knee of Helen"). Their swords drawn against her, 97 she disappeared! At least they catch Hermione. When Orestes exits the palace the Phrygian himself supplicates Orestes at Or. 1507, in oriental style with a proskynesis. Orestes toys with him, then sends him back inside. There is no point in killing him, as long as he does not spread word of what has happened before Orestes and his accomplices, including Electra, are ready for Menelaus. The slave is one of the furnishings of his father's house that Orestes and Electra still hope to regain. Undeserv- ing Orestes has failed with both honest and treacherous supplications; ironically the innocent Phrygian–or maybe it is not so ironic?–succeeds in his. FANTASIAS ON THE SUPPLICATION THEME In each of the half dozen plays remaining for my discussion–in fully a third of his surviving tragedies, Euripides stages a series of supplica- tions in which interpersonal dynamics and moral positions shift in often sensational ways. In some plays supplications succeed with terrible consequence; in others, they fail with equally catastrophic result. Plays, however, more persons than one supplicates (or in an important past has done so) with ultimately disappointing effect. A. BARBARIANS AND GREEKS (MEDEA, HECUBA) First chronologically are these two sensational dramas, named after wrathful, murderous barbarian women. Each in fact has learned sup- plication from a Greek in her back story (Medea from Jason: Med. 496– 498; Hecuba from Odysseus, Hec. 245–250 and 274f.) whom in her present plight she now must abjectly supplicate in turn. The two plays are contrasted, however, in how the theme is developed. Medea uncannily manipulates two kings, first Creon of Corinth (Med. 324–339), then Aegeus of Athens (709–713) before she works her sly physical-emotional magic on Jason. She persuades each by a double argument, a bodily one of grasping his knees and hand or beard, a mental one of suggesting to the kindly Corinthian that she cannot do any harm in a single day's reprieve from banishment, and that she seeks this little respite only for her children's sake (Med. 340–347), to the eager Athe- nian that she can cure his childlessness (714–718). Both monarchs are anxious about children, Creon about the bride he is giving to Medea's estranged ex-husband, Aegeus about the dynastic heir he lacks. However and first, the physical contact with an exotic but beautiful, still young woman makes an impact. Creon is mistaken about what one day will 98 permit her to achieve, his own death as well as his daughter's; but Aegeus is already part-way sexually seduced. If, as seems likely, Euripides' lost Aegeus was produced in the years before Medea,18 the audience knew that at Athens the Colchian princess would marry their king and bear him the Medus son who nearly replaced the hero Theseus in royal suc- cession. Medea then works upon Jason not by arguments, which fail in the memorable agon of their first scene (Med. 446–626) but by supplica- tion–not hers, however, but by his sons': I understand lines 894–902 to be their supplication, directed by her, of a much affected Jason.19 Through the very children whom she will later murder in order to complete his destruction Medea now works upon Jason himself; and through them in an off-stage suppliant approach to his bride (Med. 969–973), she brings about the princess's and her father's gruesome deaths. In this case the little boys' suppliant request, viz. to be allowed to stay in Corinth with their father, is reinforced by irresistible golden gifts that the boys bear with them. Medea has evidently learned that supplication is part of a "one-two punch" that can bring down foe or reluctant friend. She herself, on the other hand, has learned to resist supplication, and does so when the chorus beg her not to kill her children (Med. 853–855 during the third stasimon). Naiden, who overlooked the boys' supplication of their never- -to-be stepmother, suggests (as the chorus do in that same ode, at 856– 865) that their off-stage appeal to their murderous mother should be a supplication. All that we or the chorus will actually hear, however, will be their dying complaints (Med. 1271f. and 1275f.). Supplication, therefore, Medea and the Medea suggest, is a weapon, to be thrust or to be parried as one's passionate interests dictate. Jason taught her its offensive power. Others whom she confronts, and Jason himself, have not learned to defend themselves against it. Hecuba shows how cynical the supposedly "civilized" Greeks are with respect to the ritual of supplication. The same Odysseus who gave the Trojan queen a lesson in the compelling technique of clutching a powerful person's knees (Hec. 245f. and 274f., already noted), when she recognized him on his spy mission into Ilium but spared his life, resists her when she tries the same on him now her master (275–290, with hand and cheek evidently at 276, beard at 286). He must and will save her life, he explains, but has no obligation to save that of her 18 See Jouan and Van Looy p. 3 with nn. 2 and 3. 19 Naiden does not record it as such, although "right hand" (899) and "arm" (902) are in the script; and the little boys may well first embrace their daddy at his knees, which, however, are not mentioned. 99 daughter Polyxena (demanded in sacrifice by Achilles' ghost). Perhaps, however, if Polyxena herself were to supplicate him? A visually striking non-supplication occurs later in the episode. Polyxena steps forward and Odysseus buries his right hand under his cloak to prevent its grasping; likely also he covers his knees or turns them away, certainly he averts his head. "I see you, Odysseus," she says at 342–345, "hiding your right hand under your garment and turning your face back so I may not touch your beard. Cheer up! You have escaped Zeus of Supplication for my part (τὸν ἐμὸν Ἱκέσιον Δία)." She does not intend to supplicate at all, for, as she goes on to explain, she will gladly die! Despite all this, Hecuba, powerless otherwise, and only after de- liberation and hesitation (Hec.737–739), does supplicate the enemy com- mander-in-chief, the man ultimately responsible for so many deaths of her nearest and dearest. One might think of the sublime meeting of her husband Priam and Achilles earlier in the Trojan saga. This one, however, is hardly sublime. When at ll. 752–754 she supplicates Agamemnon by knees and beard and right hand, he offers her freedom. She, however, craves only revenge, and this against a current ally of his. Thracian Polymnestor has murdered Hecuba's youngest son Polydorus, for the treasure that came with the boy when he was entrusted to Polymnestor for safe-keeping. Hecuba finally bends him to connivance with her by inserting a very different appeal, through his lust for a surviving daughter of hers, Cassandra (Hec. 824–830), before she returns to supplication (836–840). However, moreover, the opportunist barbarian can claim that he did the Greeks a real favor by eliminating such a possible future avenger of Priam and many others. Agamemnon thus faces a political problem and a personal dilemma. Somewhat like Aegeus in Medea, Agamemnon will "look the other way" when the suppliant woman wreaks terrible but unspecified bloody vengeance upon a third party with whom the Greek host has friendly relations. He wants his justification to fellow Greeks army to appear to be justice itself and supplication, and nothing to do with Cassandra (850–856). As also in the Medea, supplication is followed up by sex, although here is it not the aged suppliant's own, as it was Medea's own but her nubile, virginal daughter's. Far from being efficacious per se on Greeks, therefore, supplication needs a value added from some other motivation. Only Creon of Corinth appears to have been scrupulous enough to accept supplication simple, and look what happens to him! Both Medea and Hecuba, by accepting supplication on the part of Greeks, got themselves into their tragic plights. Medea, of course, also came to feel love, not only mercy for the glamorous hero of Iolchus. 100 B. ASYLUM OR SURRENDER? (ANDROMACHE, HERACLES, HELEN) Although like the two grim plays just discussed Andromache con- trasts a "barbarian" woman with despicable Greeks–here ones of both sexes–the woman in question is not driven to monstrous acts of her own in response to what men have done to her. She has a child, her master Neoptolemus' only child Molossus, to save, not to avenge, and she does so in a way that ties this play to two others with the same scenic feature: a physical structure that gives or should give one or more persons protec- tion from a female rival for a man (princess Hermione in Andromache), from a murderous usurper (tyrant Lycus in Heracles), and from a would-be royal husband (king Theoclymenus in Helen). These con- spicuous sites of asylum are respectively a shrine of Thetis, an altar of Zeus, and the tomb of the reigning king's father Proteus. Each is clearly identified in the prologue of its play.20 As in the two suppliant plays examined above, the thing almost becomes a silent but potent character in Andromache. Indeed at its end Thetis appears in person, while in Helen Proteus' daughter Theonoë represents his intention and will. In Heracles, on the other hand, it is Zeus' jealous wife Hera who intervenes, not directly but through two supernatural agents, midway through the play.21 In each drama as it unfolds the asylum falters and other appeals, by personal supplications, become a last resort. Hermione wants to be rid of the beloved concubine of her absent estranged husband Neoptolemus. She proposes to burn the hated bar- barian woman, suppliant though she is, right at the shrine (And. 257) or to slaughter her (259). Menelaus, however, has a formally reverent tactic by which to pry his daughter's unwilling but hated rival from divine protection: he threatens to slay Andromache's infant son if she will not leave the shrine (380–383). He then gives the toddler to Hermione to do what she wishes to him! Subsequently he spurns the little boy's human supplication (529–542). Although he is superstitious, he is otherwise thoroughly unscrupulous. Only the sudden arrival of ancient but resolute Peleus saves mother and child from the suddenly craven Spartan. An- dromache describes Menelaus' trick to get her to leave the Thetis-shrine 20 Thetis' shrine and a statue of the goddess: And. 20 and 43; altar of Zeus, HF 48f. and 51; Proteus' tomb, Hel. 64. However, only in the relatively early play is the sacred site mentioned so often as in the two suppliants plays: And. 115, 117, 130, 135, 161, 162, 246, 253, 260, 262, 314, 357, and 380, until Andromache leaves it at 411 (and Menelaus gloats about how he has tricked her into doing so, at 427). 21 Kopperschmidt on Andromache (pp. 161–178) and on Heracles (179–192) offers valuable analysis of motif and structure in each, finding significant correspondences between them. 101 (And. 565–571) and now she supplicates her master's old grandfather, falling at his knees while pathetically unable to reach for his check be- cause her hands are bound (572–576). Peleus becomes her protector. In fact, the tables are turned and Hermione needs protection herself. Abandoned by her father, she dreads the wrath of her husband Neoptole- mus. Dare she rush as suppliant to "statues"–of Thetis–or to her own slave's knees (And. 859f.)? An apparently half-hearted attempt to hang herself (the only failed suicide in Greek tragedy!) leaves her ready to supplicate Cousin Orestes when he unexpectedly arrives (892–895)– unexpectedly, that is, to her, since Menelaus and he seem to have arranged this intervention. She begs him to defend her against Neoptolemus (whose assassination he has already managed) and to get her away from Phthia–perhaps home to Sparta (921–923). Her panicked supplication in itself, like her appeal to kinship, actually matters less to him than the opportunity to marry her now himself. (They are in a sense made for each other. Who else would want to marry either of them! She, of course, does not think that way.) Exeunt the dastardly fiancés. The play is not over. A messenger returns from Delphi with the young hero Neoptolemus' bruised and butchered corpse. His typically brilliant speech reports terrible off-stage happening–in this case the farthest off stage of any in Euripides (And. 1085–1160). Although neither noun nor verb denoting supplication, suppliant, or supplicate is used in describing it, an example of what should be holy asylum gone scandalously wrong brings this play toward its grim dénouement. In the prologue we learn from Andromache that her master Neoptolemus has gone to Delphi to appease the god whom he had previously offended by demanding just amends for the death of his father Achilles. (In other forms of the myth he sacked the Delphic temple; here, however, he seems only to have blasphemed.) When he is there, in the very sanctuary, he is ambushed by Delphians whom Orestes has deceived into thinking he would come to pillage the treasuries and the very temple. At the end of his report the messenger indicts Apollo for evil and unwisdom (And. 1161–1165), after inviting us to visualize a shocking scene in the Pythian ἀνάκτορα (1115, 1157), at the altar of which (1102, 1123, 1135, 1138, 1156), by the sacrificial fire (1113), Achilles' son has been atrociously assassinated. During the ensuing exodos of the play goddess Thetis instructs Peleus to deliver their grandson's body back to the Pythic altar (1240) and bury it there, "a reproach to Delphi, so that the tomb may proclaim the violent murder at the hand of Orestes" (1241f.). The aforementioned empty threat of Hermione to apply fire to the lone suppliant Andromache becomes a serious danger to a group of five suppliants in Heracles. The evil usurping king of Thebes Lycus, who has already murdered Heracles' Theban father- and brothers-in law, calls for 102 his minions to gather a great deal of lumber to make a pyre of Savior Zeus' altar (HF 240–246) to incinerate the absent hero's Theban wife Megara, their three young sons, and their guardian old Amphitryon. Never mind supposed asylum there! Megara takes the horrific prospect quite seriously (285). Lycus' targeted enemies have been locked out of their home and are already starving (51–54); however, he cannot wait for them to die–as he is sure Heracles himself has done on a suicidal fool's errand to fetch Cerberus from the Underworld. Personal supplication to this bloody villain is, of course, useless, unless to ask the "favors" sought by Amphitryon (HF 321–325) and Megara (327f), that they both die before the children so they do not have to watch the slaying of the little innocents. And that they be allowed to dress the boys for their funerals. Favors grandly granted! This is a technically and theatrically useful ploy that permits the actor playing Megara to be recycled into– Heracles, for the next episode!–and the children, probably also their elders, to be dressed behind the scenes ominously for the death that does, in fact, await Megara and the boys when Heracles later goes cata- strophically mad. When Megara does not appear with the black-clad children in Lycus' next scene he mocks her for (as Amphitryon imag- ines) supplicating goddess Hestia at the hearth (715f.), where Heracles waits in righteous ambush to kill the killer. The actual uselessness of supplication in the world of the gods that preside over this distressing play, careless Zeus and atrocious Hera, is made clear during a reported off-stage scene of horror. Heracles in his madness has stabbed on son to death. Then he ignores a second son's supplicating plea, at an interior altar of Zeus, and brains him with his club (HF 984–994). He believes that he is killing a son of his persecutor Eurystheus, as we know; but the victim is still a little boy, still a suppliant. Heracles surrounded a scene of ruin is wheeled out on an ample ekkyklēma. After he revives from his knockout by Athena's hurled piece of broken stone and comes to his right mind, perceiving what he has wrought. Astonished Theseus arrives on the scene. Heracles resists his stepfather Amphitryon's lyric supplication, 1st-person plural in his own and the concerned Athenian's name (HF 1207–1213). He responds instead to Theseus when he invokes friendship (1214–1225). If supplication is always to be understood as an institution of Zeus, as I believe it should be, why should Heracles honor it? Ironically, sadly, he has higher notions of divinity than the gods who are to blame for his circumstances de- serve. He himself regards Amphitryon as his father, not Zeus. Indeed, to conclude Sophocles' Trachinian Women Heracles' son Hyllus can declare that "Nothing of this is not Zeus," at the end of this play one might say "Nothing of this is not derelict Zeus." The last thing we see after the characters and chorus exit are the shocking ekkyklēma and 103 his altar as "Savior." If supplication there has saved Megara and her sons from mere criminal death, it saved them for a much worse kind. A less grim play, the Helen is nevertheless by no means all sweet- ness and light. The title character Helen is a daughter of Zeus, who is here pretty delinquent too. He would not intervene in the nastiness between his wife Hera (again) and his heavenly daughter Aphrodite. Indeed he "passed the buck" to Paris, who launched the thousand ships that pursued him and–not Helen! Hera made an image of her, whom all the world vilified, ignorant of her actual virtue, hidden away in Egypt, the setting of this tragicomedy, almost tragi-farce. He thought the slaughter of the ten years war at Troy a good means to lighten the human burden on Earth and to determine who was greatest man, or at least κράτιστος, in Greece (Hel. 36–41). So much for his justice. Significantly here, as in Andromache, the monument of asylum does not belong to a major Olympian, but to someone closer to the resident family. There, however, it was shrine of a minor goddess, Achilles' Nereid mother Thetis whose statue stood before the audience before she herself arrived in the exodus. In Helen it is not a god's sacred space at all, but a humanized Proteus' tomb–that is, the tomb of a person otherwise clas- sified as an immortal (for example, in Odyssey 4). Helen's supplication there is understated, in large part because Proteus' amorous son (a) does not appear on stage till the play is two thirds over, and (b) when he does return from his hunt he makes clear his reverence for his late father (Hel. 1165–1168). We cannot imagine this barbarian building a murder- ous fire there like Spartan Hermione or Euboean, pseudo-Theban Lycus! His regard for suppliants and supplication is never tested, however. Rather the piety of his priestly sister Theonoë is on the line, to act and to be judged by standards as much humane as religious. Will she take the part of Aphrodite or of Hera, in covering up or publicizing the lie that the former perpetrated on all the world, based on a false "Helen" at Troy; will she side with her father, who wanted to preserve Helen for her right- ful Greek spouse or with her brother, who wants her for himself? Both Helen and, in his bumbling, bombastic way Menelaus supplicate her. Helen does so conventionally and eloquently at lines 894–943. Mene- laus, in contrast, the great hero who was reduced to weeping when an old housemaid shooed him away fro the place with (probably) a broom, ostentatiously refuses to supplicate her-directly by knee and with tears, as beneath his dignity (Hel. 947–949). However, his does appeal to her by her father's tomb, threatening her brother with individual combat or even threatening to kill himself there (949–985). As I read lines 991f. and the sequel he does break into tears before his whimpering peroration. She does take the better course, as we would think, revering her father; but she does nor what her irascible brother to know what they have gained 104 by supplication, namely her agreement not to disclose Menelaus' iden- tity. The later intrigue based upon a false report of his death depends on her silence. We should probably not classify Helen's prayer, with raised hands, to Hera as a supplication (Hel. 1093–1096), nor the anxious prayer to Aphrodite that follows (1097–1106). In any case, neither would-be "most beautiful" goddess acts. The eventual escape of Mr. and Mrs. Menelaus is rather to the credit of wise Helen herself and of her divine brothers the Dioscuri, di ex machina who provide safe sailing home (and protect Theonoë from her angered brother when he has learned how she and her husband, very much alive, have escaped). EURIPIDES' EPILOGUE (BACCHAE, IPHIGENIA AT AULIS) Both of the poet's extant posthumous plays are mutilated. The Iphigenia may even have been unfinished at the poet's death in Macedonia. The Bacchae, on the other hand, lost the sensational, grisly sequence that was torn from the sole exemplar for all the surviving manuscripts. We have enough of the play, however, to know what we need to know. In its second later messenger speech, as already remarked (n. x above), the play's only supplication is a grotesquely failed one: a mother does not gently take her supplicating son's hand but tears off his entire arm (Bacc. 1125–127). The tradition's text of Iphigenia at Aulis, on the other hand, is non- -Euripidean early and late. Moreover, all the male characters –on stage or off–are so corrupt22 that we cannot be sure whether Calchas' "prophecy" that the formidable goddess Artemis demands the life of commander Agamemnon's daughter before the Greeks may sail to Troy the goddess' will. (At IA 879 the Old Man seems less than certain about this.) That the Greek army thinks it is enough, of course, and Agamemnon cannot save the girl. Uniquely in this play a supplication is anticipated, with dread, by that father who knows that his daughter will supplicate him (IA 462–464), and not for protection from some extraneous, third-party threat but from him. Other supplication will occur first, while Agamem- non is awkwardly keeping his distance from wife, daughter, and little son after his painful scene with them (630–740). Clytemnestra's almost- -supplication (865) to the Old Man, who knows the terrible truth about her daughter's doom leads to the sequence of urgent pleas: when the 22 Those who know the play might object that, although both Atreids, Agamemnon and Menelaus, certainly Odysseus "in the wings," and maybe even Calchas are not to be trusted, Achilles is honorable. However, he implies in passing that, had he been asked, he might have allowed his name to be used in the deadly deception of Iphigenia, lured to Aulis on the pre- tense that she was to be married to Peleus' and Thetis' heroic son IA (962f.!). 105 queen supplicates Achilles "as an altar" for help against her husbands plan to sacrifice the girl (900–911). He, however, advises Clytemnestra to supplicate Agamemnon, and come to him only if that fails (1015f.). When the confrontation comes it is a kind of inversion of the situation in Bacchae. There, son supplicates mother–in horrifying vain. Here, daughter supplicates father (IA 1216–48, with in some ways a more ter- rifying outcome: Agamemnon talks the girl into accepting her slaughter as a good thing, the despicable Greek cause in the coming war as a noble one. To strengthen her pathetic appeal she hold baby Orestes toward their father (1248), of whose own tragic future we can hardly be unmindful. For ee also know how Clytemnestra will respond to the sacrifice–she who, in the striking backstory that she tells in her confrontation with he husband, has suffered so much already from him and yet has been an irreproachable wife. Until now. We even learn that when her brothers the Dioscuri threatened to avenge the deaths of her first husband and child at his hands Agamemnon supplicated her father Tyndareus, who not only saved him but gave him her "beds" in marriage (IA 1148–1156)! CONCLUSIONS The two "political- suppliant plays" Children of Heracles and Suppliants really do stand apart. The gods to whom the suppliants appeal (Zeus, Demeter) and the Athenian leaders supplicated are efficacious, and actually function as what Kopperschmidt calls σώτηρες, though Demophon and Theseus appropriately hesitate before going to battle. And there are clear "enemies," who lose out. Winning a decisive victory, the supplicandi fulfill the suppliants' wishes. In Ion among the asylum-plays Creusa escapes execution for at- tempted murder thanks to a triple action at Apollo's altar. First the altar itself, as we have seen, then the Pythian Prophetess (prompted by the god: Ion 1353), and finally Athena (acting for her embarrassed brother: Ion 1556–1559) brings about the Athenian queen's release and reconcilia- tion with–her pious son! Apollo has saved them both. In Helen, too, pious, even superstitious regard of Theoclymenus for his father Proteus' tomb keeps the chaste wife safe long enough for her husband Menelaus to arrive and deliver her–or, rather, to be delivered by her, with the essential connivance of the Pharaoh's sister Theonoë. Proteus has been effective. Both Apollo and Proteus require human agents, however, to do their good work (and Apollo a couple of divine ones: prologuist Hermes many years ago, Athena ex machina now). In almost every other instance questions arise about effectiveness of sacred places (e.g., in Heracles) and about the goodwill and helpfulness 106 of human supplicandi (e.g., in Hecuba). This makes the scenes of urgent, pathetic appeal so much the more pathetic where the petitioners are in- nocent (in Andromache and the second Iphigenia), so much the more ominous where they are not (in Medea). It is paradoxical, albeit in keep- ing with Euripides' general pessimism, that the innocent are often not protected, while the guilty are. Furthermore, where a sacred asylum should benefit suppliants there, it is invariably human agency that pro- vides whatever deliverance they receive. Supplication itself invariably involves pathos, partly from the sup- pliant's recent backstory, but also and enhanced by the unequal power relationship between her/him/them and the person appealed to. Almost never is the petitioner someone born to inferiority, like the slave Nurse in Hippolytus. Especially pathetic is when a child begs for mercy from a parent: one oh Heracles' sons to him in his deadly madness, (off stage) Pentheus to his equally murderous maenad mother, Iphigenia to Agam- emnon. Usually, however, the Euripidean beseecher is a king or queen, prince or princess whom some crisis has humbled to abject dependence on an extraneous benefaction, what is embodied, literally, in self-abasing gesture. Only twice does a person stand on her or his dignity and refuse to supplicate: Polyxena in Hecuba, the Oedipus of Phoenician Women. (In Hecuba the title character does hesitate before approaching Agam- emnon. In Helen although Menelaus pretends to be above supplicating, in the very same speech he does do.) Supplication is never inconsequential–and its results are often sen- sational. Supplication can be rejected, typically to the detriment of both sup- pliant and supplicandus. Tiresias in Phoenician Women is an exception, perhaps Menelaus in Andromache23; Odysseus equivocates in response to Hecuba's Hecuba. Menelaus in Trojan Woman rejects Hecuba's plead- ing (as I understand the third episode), accepts Helen's and gets–Helen, for good or ill! When, on the other hand, a suppliant plea is honored, even if its acceptance was hesitant the initial effect is always a good feeling. Nev- ertheless in the longer run the boon that is granted will often be bad for one or both parties. Everyone whom Medea successfully supplicates suf- fers for it–as she had suffered from her former suppliant Jason! 'No good deed,' as a cynical saying tells us, 'goes unpunished.' Her wrathful brother nearly murders Theonoë in Helen, while in Iphigenia at Aulis Achilles runs the risk of being stoned by his Greek comrades, even his own Myr- 23 After a terrible fright Hermione in the same play comes out all right, if we suppose that her future marriage to such a despicable Orestes is a 'happy ending.' 107 midons (IA 1350–1352) if he actually defends the princess, bride or no bride, against their demand that she be sacrificed. Overall the deployment of the supplication theme demonstrates the helpless of many, including those that seek and those that offer help. Even the plays with happy endings–dare we say that Andromache ends happily for the evil Peloponnesians?–have a distinct bitterness about the characters who survive (Menelaus in Helen, Xuthus in Ion) and about the gods who barely avert catastrophe.24 As ever in Euripides, however, and certainly in his work taken as a whole the message is mixed. Victor Castellani University of Denver FLEHEN UND ZUFLUCHT BEI EURIPIDES: VARIATIONEN ZU EINEM DOPPELTEN THEMA Zusammenfassung Ständiger als in der älteren Literatur, sogar als bei Äschylos oder Sophokles, fügt der Euripides die Not von Flehenden bzw. Schutzflehenden und anderen drin- genden Bittstellern in seine Schauspielen ein, und die angemessenen körperlichen Gesten derer hochtheatralisch auf Bühne bringt. Ob sie um Schutz gegen einen dro- henden Feind oder positive Hilfe zu einem bestimmten Ziel bei einem menschlichen Machthaber bitten, oder Zuflucht an einem Altar, Heiligtum, oder anderem heiligen Gegenstand besetzen, macht ihre Anwesenheit ein ausdrucksvolles Tableau, ihre Tätigkeit und die zögernde oder schroffe Erwiderung daruf, widerwillige oder gar keine Zusage, packendes Drama. Wird die Bitte erhört, sieht die wirkliche, wirkende Motivation des Beistands normalerweise komplex aus. Weder blosses Mitgefühl noch Ehrfurcht vor dem Zeus Hiketēsios oder irgendeinem Heiligtum genügt; denn fast immer treiben den Hilfsbe- reiten nicht zu lobende persönliche Gründe auch, auch sexuelle Anregung. Anderseits wird die Bitte auf der menschlichen Ebene abgelehnt, oder rechtzeitige Wirkung aus dem Himmel fehlt. Das Hauptteil des Artikels untersucht das doppelte Thema Flehen-Zuflucht in drei Sätzen: (1) Die beiden Tragödien die als ganze „Flehende-Spielen" gelten, nämlich, Heraclidae und Supplices, wo sich Flehen und Zuflucht zufriedenstellend zusam- menschliessen; (2) die neun Schausspiele worin das Thema vereinzelt, am meisten zwei- bis dreimal erscheint: Cyclops, Hippolytus, Ion, Electra, Iphigenia Taurica, Troades, Phoenissae, Orestes, und Bacchae; und (3) sechs beunruhigende Stücke 24 I must note a much more optimistic understanding of these plays in A. P. Burnett, Catastrophe Survived: Euripides' Plays of Mixed Reversal (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1971). Although he probably goes too far in the opposite direction, dashing any hope for divine goodness in Euripides' thinking, P. Vellacott's Ironic Drama: A Study of Euripides' Method and Meaning (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1975) is a persuasive antidote to any thought that Euripides can have been a pious Apollonian. 108 wodurch Flehen mit oder ohne Asyl eine Art Fantasie über unser Thema spielt, wo sich moralische Urteile und theologische Fragen auseinandersetzen: Medea und He- cuba, Andromacha und Hercules, Helena und Iphigenia Aulidensis. Man kann folglich zum Schluss kommen, dass in verzweifelten Krisen Mitleid und Frömmigkeit wenig wenn überhaupt helfen können, und ja unabsichtlich scha- den. Weder Menschen noch Göttern dürfen wir vertrauen, zumal da der Olymp oft entzweit ist, und irdische Leute so schwach in Kraft und in Moral sind. Beste Personen sind allzu leicht zu überzeugen–oder zu überwältigen, obgleich menschliche Güte etwas Gutes schaffen dann und wann kann. Nur Euripides' zwei verhältnismässig frühe Flehende-Dramen lassen uns auf Besseres hoffen, weil das dortige Flehen geruhsam, richtig geprüft wird, und wo athenische Tugend, nicht ohne die Götter, böse Feinde siegt. 109 UDC 1 Harpocration 141.131 Georgios Steiris Department of Philosophy University of Athens HARPOCRATION, THE ARGIVE PHILOSOPHER, AND THE OVERALL PHILOSOPHICAL MOVEMENT IN CLASSICAL AND ROMAN ARGOS ABSTRACT: In this paper I focus on philosophy in classical and roman Argos, looking forward to contribute to the promotion of an undervalued as- pect of the intellectual history of the city. The Argive Hapocration was a phi- losopher and commentator from the second century A.D. He was a disciple of the philosopher Atticus who belonged to the Middle Platonists. Harpocration was a partner and friend of a certain Caesar. Harpocration wrote detailed com- ments on almost all the texts of Plato. In the few passages that have survived from Harpocration's work, we observe a version of Platonic thought clearly influenced by the current of Gnosticism and Pythagoreanism. Harpocration's influence on both his contemporaries and his successors remains sufficiently obscure, although Proclus included Harpocration among the top Platonists. Nevertheless, this is not the only known philosophical activity in the city of Argos. This is confirmed by the existence of many philosophers from Argos in classical antiquity who, to some extent like Harpocration much later, adhered to the current of Pythagoreanism. KEYWORDS: Philosophy, Harpocration, Argos, Atticus, Middle Platonism, Pythagoreanism, Neo-Platonism. The city of Argos boasts a rich history and cultural contribution that stretched over the centuries, from early prehistory to modern times. However, though esteemed researchers spilled tons of ink for many centuries, the past of Argos has not yet been sufficiently elucidated. There are still many fields of studies and topics that have not been sys- tematically studied, patiently waiting research to shed light on them. In this paper I aim to spell some out looking forward to contribute to the 110 promotion of an undervalued, but highly interesting, aspect of the intel- lectual history of Argos, namely philosophy. The Argive Hapocration was a philosopher and commentator from the second century A.D. His origin is not disputed by any source. How- ever, there is still a potential possibility that he might have descended from a different Argos: namely that which is in Amfilochia, Orestiko or that in Cyprus. Yet, the absence of any additional geographical des- ignation in his name in ancient sources is likely to disprove such claims. Simply mentioning 'Argos' can only indicate the most notable of the cities with this name, namely the Argive Argos. As will be revealed later in this paper, the close relationship between Hapocration with the Atticus family may well support his Argive origin.1 HARPOCRATION'S EARLY STUDIES Harpocration was a disciple of the philosopher Atticus who belonged to the Middle Platonists.2 Platonism between the period of Antiochus of Ascalon (130–68 B.C.) and Plotinus (204–270 A.D.) – the founder of Neo-Platonism, is called Middle Platonism. The main characteristic of Middle Platonism is the return to the old Platonic tradition through the study of all Platonic texts. Representatives of Middle Platonism are dis- tinguished by their intense eclecticism. They sought it as a response to philosophical problems that concerned them. Middle Platonic eclecticism was some form of agreement among all earlier eminent philosophers, led by Pythagoras, Socrates and Plato, of course. This eclecticism is perhaps explained by the inability of these scholars to produce original philosophical thought. Instead, they simply reviewed already formulated opinions. Their interest focused on doctrinal terms of metaphysical principles and on the exploration of ethical principles which were par- ticularly expressed in Stoicism and Peripatetic Philosophy.3 We know little about the life of the Middle Platonist Atticus, as is the case with many philosophers of his time. Eusebius confirms that he lived around 176 A.D., which coincides with the end of the reign of Marcus Aurelius (161–180 A.D.), the emperor – philosopher, who was a pupil of Herod Atticus.4 The name 'Atticus', exceptionally rare back then, pos- sibly indicates some association with the family of Herod Atticus against other less plausible suggested interpretations.5 Moreover, placing Atti- 1 Steiris, 2006: 257–268. 2 Proclus, In Timaeum, I.305.6. 3 Georgoulis, 2004: 475–485; Merlan, 1967: 53–83; Zeller – Nestle, 2004: 365–371. 4 Dillon, 1996: 248; Des Places, 1977: 7. 5 Karamanolis, 2006: 150; Oliver, 1981: 223. 111 cus at this point in chronology is also intriguing. It could be interpreted as to enhance his connection to Herod Atticus; indeed, in 176 A.D. Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius established a chair for Platonic philosophy in Athens. It is very probable that this chair was assigned to Atticus ex- plaining the choice of this particular time period. For this more plausi- ble claim, the opinion of Herod Atticus would have been of significant meaning; it is reasonable to assume that Marcus Aurelius could select someone from his milieu and satisfy his former teacher Herod Atticus. In addition ancient sources suggested that Herod Atticus had a significant role in the appointment of the chairs of philosophy.6 Unfortunately L. Benakis confused Atticus with Herod Atticus, who was not a philosopher, leading to misunderstanding.7 More confusion arises from this point; Herod Atticus was a student of the Platonic phi- losopher Taurus from Tyr. According to the sources, the latter lived around 145 A.D. and was in turn a disciple and friend of Plutarch. This testimony reaches us through another student of Taurus, Aulus Gellius.8 Taurus was a skeptical philosopher and director of the New Academy in Athens, though the existence of this institution has itself been questioned.9 Nonetheless, the philosopher Atticus was the successor of Taurus as an advocate of Platonism and the preservation of true faith, even though this did not prevent him from disagreeing with him philosophically. Atticus was an opponent of eclecticism. Atticus remained essen- tially the most mainstream Platonic, despite targeting with his position other philosophers like Amonius.10 Of course, while he basically main- tained the Platonic forms he presented them as ideas or thoughts of the divine. Moreover, he opposed the attempt to harmonize Plato's teachings with those of Aristotle, which Albinus had begun, remaining thus a loyal Platonist. He did not hesitate to proclaim that Aristotle's philosophical positions conflicted with those of Plato. He maintained that Aristotle's positions have no value whatsoever, since Plato had already completely and thoroughly dealt with all areas of knowledge.11 Furthermore, his office as head of the Platonic Academy possibly entailed a war on Aristotle.12 Conflicting views between proponents of different philosophical schools were not unusual in that period. Indeed, Taurus, among others, had written texts with similar content.13 6 Dillon, 1996: 248; Kalligas, 2004: 37–56; Oliver, 1977: 160–178; Oliver, 1981: 216–217, 222–225. 7 Benakis, 1976: 437–438. 8 Merlan, 1967: 63. 9 Dillon, 1996: 248. 10 Des Places, 1977: 7–8. 11 Karamanolis, 2006: 150. 12 Sharples, 2010: 250. 13 Des Places, 1977: 16. 112 Most of Πρός τούς διά τῶν Ἀριστοτέλους τά Πλάτωνος ὑπισχνουμένους – Eusebius' surviving work on Atticus – addresses this very issue, though the original title of Atticus' treatise might not have been this.14 Of course, Eusebius finds weakness in Atticus' work and fights Aristotle's views that were not compatible with Christian theology.15 It is definitely no coincidence that a few years earlier History of Philosophy by Aristo- cles – a Peripatetic philosopher and mentor of the famous Alexander of Aphrodisias – circulated in Athens. In this work, Plato was presented as inferior to Aristotle.16 At this point, it is worthwhile noting that Atticus' texts are marked by a greater tendency to eloquence. As shall be seen later Herod Atticus was distinguished in rhetoric. Belonging to the classical line of Greek philosophy, Atticus accept- ed the tripartite division of philosophy into ethics, physics and logic.17 Atticus' thought is characterized by focusing his interest primarily on God rather than on nature. In particular, his debate focused on Aristotle's views on divine providence, eternity of the world and the refusal to accept the immortality of the soul. All of them mainly originate from Aristo- tle's theory of entelecheia. Aristotle's theology at least, as perceived by Atticus, was a form of atheism since it denied providence and deprived God from the ability to intervene in earthly affairs. For Atticus, provi- dence, nature and cosmic soul were the same.18 Furthermore, in his work the Demiurge and the cosmic soul are replaced by reason, in the vein of earlier Platonists who had tried but never reached the point of equating God with reason. Reason will always remain a tool in the hands of God. He also stresses how the one and only God arranged for the creation of the world, which is connected to providence. In fact his conception of God is dualistic (God-world), while other Middle Platonists could be characterized as monists.19 Atticus did not avoid though being influenced by Stoic philosophy in topics regarding the presence of God in the world and the conception that only virtue can ensure human happiness without the assistance of material factors, as argued by the Peripatetic School. On the other hand, he never reached the point of supporting the position of the Stoics on severe limitation of passions.20 Regarding this point, his ideas seem to converge to those of Eudorus and diverge from those of Antiochus and Plutarch. However, Aristotle's questioning of the Platonic view that virtue is sufficient for the conquest and retention of happiness, troubled him. 14 Eusebius, Praeparatio Evangelica, ch. 11, 15; Karamanolis, 2006: 152. 15 Festugiere, 1932: 257–258. 16 Mras, 1936: 183–188. 17 Baltes, 1983: 38–57; Dillon, 1996: 251. 18 Des Places, 1977: 66. 19 Baltes, 1983: 38–57; Dillon, 1996: 252–257. 20 Georgoulis, 2004: 483–484; Dillon, 1996: 281–282. 113 In addition, Atticus wrote comments on Plato's Timaeus and Republic. Of course, he identified the Demiurge in Timaeus with the es- sence of good.21 In the interpretation of Timaeus, Atticus suggested the existence of an uncreated matter, which exists in continuous and cha- otic motion under the effect of the bad soul of the world. The Demiurge intervenes to give form to matter and mind to the bad soul of the world. Disordered matter, whose main cause of existence is the bad soul, is thought to exist before the κακεργέτιδα ψυχή (worst soul) which remained ἒμφρων and not rational during Creation due to the intervention of the intellect.22 Consequently, Atticus' reasoning is roughly as follows: motion emanates from the soul but it is disordered. It follows that the soul is disordered. The soul is distorted by the pressure exerted by higher forms and descends downward. The result of this motion is the existence of a lesser cosmic soul comparable to Plutarch's Isis. This soul is inferior to the actual cosmic soul which, for Atticus, has a similar role as the De- miurge in Timaeus. Atticus thinks of the Demiurge as the transcendent God. It is no coincidence that he named Him 'mind' and associated Him with goodness.23 He is transcendent and of the νοητόν ζῶον (intelligible form of life) thus even transcending the Platonic world of forms.24 From Atticus' texts, it can easily be concluded that it is enough to consider the forms as God's thoughts. This is consistent with the per- ception of other Platonists who accept the trinity of the Godhead, Matter, and Form.25 Nevertheless, Porphyry accuses him to place the forms out of the mind while, according to him, they are subjective.26 From a com- ment of the Neo-Platonist Syrianus, we could infer that, for Atticus, forms exist at the level of the cosmic soul and not in the mind of the transcendent God.27 However, connecting a transcendent God to the forms remained an unsolvable problem to every Platonist who believed in the existence of such a transcendent God. Both Atticus and Plutarch argued that the world has a specific be- ginning in time, which is a position sufficiently studied by many Neo- -Platonic philosophers. This assertion arose from a reading of Timaeus which led to the conclusion that time existed before the world, since motion characterized the universe before the creation of the world and time is a measure of motion. Atticus' view was that limits should be 21 Proclus, In Timaeum, I.305. 22 Merlan, 1967: 76–77. 23 Proclus, In Timaeum, I.305. 24 Proclus, In Timaeum, I.431; Dillon, 1996: 253–258. 25 Des Places, 1977: 67–69. 26 Proclus, In Timaeum, I.394, 6. 27 Dilllon, 1996: 256. 114 placed on the creative power of God, as Aristotle and his disciples had attempted.28 Numenius of Apamea in Syria is classified as a Neo-Pythagorean,29 though strongly influenced by the principles of Platonic philosophy.30 He exercised a strong influence on Harpocration and Atticus, without supporting the discipleship of neither one of them. Other scholars classi- fy him with the representatives of Middle Platonism, which were strongly affected by Neo-Pythagoreanism.31 Indeed, he dedicated his life to rec- onciling Platonic concepts with Pythagorean doctrines, while arguing that the differences between them are only verbal. Neo-Pythagoreanism probably developed in Alexandria in Egypt along with the Greek-Jewish philosophy. It aimed at discovering the absolute truth through studying the teachings of the Orphics, the Py- thagoreans and Plato with the assistance of mysticism and Gnosticism. From the first century B.C. the attempt to revive Pythagoreanism began to form, but its end was marked by the person of Apollonius of Tyana towards the first century A.D.32 Numenius lived in the second century A.D. Around the middle of his life he authored an attack against Antiochus of Ascalon, who attempted to identify Platonic and Stoic philosophy. Nevertheless, in his work, apart from Pythagoras and Plato whom he thought equal, he extolled Maggi, Egyptian priests, Brahmans and Moses to whom Numenius reserved a special treatment saying: "τί γάρ ἐστί Πλάτων ἤ Μωυσῆς ἀττικίζων;".33 Discerning between God and matter, individualism and dualism, he renders direct action of God in matter impossible. This made him posit a second Creator God. The world constituted his third God. Matter, according to Numenius, was associated with a bad soul from which the irrational part of the human soul comes. Numenius thinks that the entrance of the soul in the body is degradation and misfortune. The soul's goal is to leave it and unite with the divine. Numenius also seems to accept posthumous punishment of wicked souls in hell.34 Cronius, who shared many of Numenius' views, also seems to exercise a noticeable influence on Harpocration. 28 Des Places, 1977: 51. 29 Des Places, 1973. 30 Des Places, 1973: 19–20; Karamanolis, 2006: 127–149; Merlan, 1967: 96–106. 31 Burnyeat, 2005: 143–169; Georgoulis, 2004: 484; Zeller – Nestle, 2004: 369–370. 32 Zeller – Nestle, 2004: 359–362. 33 Eusebius, Praeparatio, IX 6, 9. 34 Georgoulis, 2004: 470–471, 484; Zeller – Nestle, 2004: 369–370. 115 INFORMATION ABOUT HARPOCRATION'S LIFE According to Suda's dictionary, written around the tenth century A.D., Harpocration was a partner and friend of a certain Caesar (συμβιώτης), while he probably had a notable rank in the imperial court: "Ἁρποκρατίων, Ἀργεῖος, Πλατωνικὸς φιλόσοφος, συμβιωτὴς Καίσαρος. ἔγραψεν ὑπόμνημα εἰς Πλάτωνα ἐν βιβλίοις κδ ,ʹ Λέξεις Πλάτωνος ἐν βιβλίοις βʹ".35 Suda mentioned three other under the same name: "Ἁρποκρατίων, ὁ Γάϊος χρηματίσας, σοφιστής... Ἁρποκρατίων, ὁ Αἴλιος χρηματίσας, σοφιστής... Ἁρποκρατίων, ὁ Βαλέριος χρηματίσας, ῥήτωρ".36 Some scholars believe that a reference to the grammarian Harpocra- tion refers to the Argive philosopher.37 The referred grammarian was the mentor of the heir to the imperial throne of Rome, Lucius Verus who was born around 130 A.D. and ascended the throne of Rome in 161 A.D. as co-emperor with Marcus Aurelius.38 This Harpocration was listed as Grammaticus, while the philosophical education of Lucius Verus was assumed by Sextus, Plutarch's nephew, together with the Stoic philoso- pher Apollonius, who also were Marcus Aurelius' teachers of philosophy. Lucius Verus' discipleship to Harpocration took place around 140–160 A.D., before he ascended to the throne. During the same period, Herod Atticus had assumed the task of educating Marcus Aurelius at the re- quest of his father, emperor Hadrian, who had the young Lucius Verus under his protection during the latter's childhood.39 Marcus Aurelius was one of the greatest philosophers of the ancient world, adhering to the movement current of Stoic philosophy. Others argue that the Argive Harpocration was not the teacher of Lucius Verus since referring to him as grammaticus does not suit his competence as a philosopher. They suggest Valerius Harpocration as Lucius Verus' teacher. He was a Greek from Alexandria in Egypt and the author of Περί τῶν λέξεων τῶν δέκα ρητόρων, which is a large diction- ary on the work of the orators of Attica. However, objections were raised against the period during which Valerius Harpocration lived. Indeed, some scholars confirm it to be towards the late second and third century, based on the fact that there are references in his work to the Athenian author of Δειπνοσοφιστών.40 35 Suda, Lexicon, 4011. 36 Suda, Lexicon, 4012–4014. 37 Hohl, 1965: II 5. 38 Dillon, 1971: 126. 39 Chaignet, 1890: 189–190; Skiadas, 1976: 406. 40 Donaldson, 1858: 383–384; Sharpe, 2003: 189; Smith, 1880: 353. 116 At the beginning, Dillon argued that perhaps the Argive philoso- pher Harpocration accepted this office, not having any better alternative.41 Later (1996), he confirmed that the Argive Harpocration was not Lucius Verus' teacher because, being Atticus' student, he would have been about the same age of Lucius Verus. A link is thus suggested between the Argive Harpocration and the reign of another emperor, not Marcus Aurelius, because the latter did not cite his name, i.e. that of the Argive Harpocration, in his work Τά εἰς ἑαυτόν where he mentioned his men- tors.42 Dillon's view is not adequately supported. The emperors of that period are not so many: Hadrian, Antoninus, Marcus Aurelius, Lucius Verus and Commodus. Accurate chronological dating of the philosophers of the second century A.D. is extremely difficult. Atticus and Numenius, the two persons who influenced Harpocration, must have existed around the same time with Herod Atticus, who was born in the beginning of the second century A.D. Both were famous philosophers towards the middle of the same century. Of course, the question arises: how could the Argive philosopher Harpocration be associated with the imperial court of Rome? The an- swer can be helpful in clarifying the general issue. We could assume that the family of Atticus played a key role setting him up using their access to Roman nobility. Moreover, the family of Atticus had very good relations with the emperors Hadrian, Antoninus and Marcus Aurelius.43 The presence of the family of Atticus in theirs villa in Eve, near Astros, could be behind their acquaintance with the intellectual circle of the city of Argos, which was the largest urban center of the region at the time. The presence of Herod Atticus could not go unnoticed. Certainly, it enhanced the spiritual life of Argos. Furthermore, it should not escape our attention that Herod used to teach students in special places he chose and not in some school. The apprenticeship of Harpocration to Atticus and his possible presence in the imperial court of Rome may be the result of his relationship with the Atticus family. Indeed, even when he was young, Harpocration may have taught Lucius Verus for some time, or simply 'lived with' (συμβιώτης) him. As to Herod Atticus, he was born and died in Marathon (101/2–177/8 A.D.). Atticus and his son Herod held Roman citizenship transmitted to them by their predecessors. Because of the wealth and eminent social position held by his father, the young Herod received careful education. In his childhood, he visited Rome and joined the imperial milieu. In 125/26, on the occasion of the visit of Emperor Hadrian to their city, the 41 Dillon, 1971: 126. 42 Dillon, 1996: 259. 43 Steiris, 2005: 257–260. 117 Athenians awarded Herod with a noble title, due to the knowledge of his personal friendship with Hadrian. Choosing Herod as the mentor of the future emperor Marcus Aurelius was a personal choice made by the emperor Hadrian. Around 140, his social activity expanded greatly. In 143 he was honored with the office of Consul. Before 160, emperor Antoninus appointed him professor of Rhetoric in the Rhetoric School of Athens, which was directly sponsored by the Romans.44 Apart from his contribution to rhetoric, Herod realized an impor- tant architectural project from which most notable are the Odeon, the Panathenaic Stadium, the Nymfaium in Olympia and others. He also extended and embellished the villa he inherited from his father in Eve of Kynouria, near Astros, trying to imitate the architecture of Hadrian's villa in Tivoli. In this one, he united much of his art collection, both from his era and earlier. In fact, he had organized some kind of museum, scientific and artistic institution, unique in Greece.45 Unfortunately, the surviving data do not inform us about the deeds of Herod Atticus in Kynouria and his alleged relationship with Harpocra- tion. Nevertheless, it must be stressed that the material prosperity of Roman Argos may have been accompanied by an intellectual develop- ment which could nurture a philosopher of such a range. The existence of Harpocration, coupled with the simultaneous presence of Herod Atticus in Eve of Kynouria, where he had formed cultural sites under the frame of his holiday residence, is evidence to substantiate the existence of a remarkable intellectual activity in Eastern Peloponnese during the second century A.D. THE PHILOSOPHICAL WORK OF HARPOCRATION Harpocration, following the example of his teacher Atticus, wrote detailed comments on almost all the texts of Plato that occupied a total of 24 volumes. This work is not preserved, though references to it can be tracked in philosophical texts that study the Platonic dialogues, mainly Timaeus, Alcibiades and Phaedo.46 In addition, the dictionary of Suda attributes to him the writing of a two-volume Platonic dictionary. Walking in the footsteps of Plutarch and Atticus, Harpocration thought that the world was created in time: "Ὁ Ἁρποκρατίων καί ὁ Ἀττικός οἱ τό γενητόν λέγεσθαι τόν κόσμον ἐν Τιμαίῳ ὑπό τοῦ Πλάτωνος κατά χρόνον ἀκούοντες, ἐπειδή ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης ἐγκαλεῖ τῶ 44 Skiadas, 1976: 406. 45 Skiadas, 1976: 406. 46 Hermias, In Platonis Phaedrum Scholia, 102.14. 118 θείῳ Πλάτωνι ἐν τῇ Περί οὐρανοῦ, διότι λέγειν κατά χρόνον τόν κόσμον γενητόν...".47 Like Atticus, Harpocration believed in the existence of an uncre- ated matter that exists in perpetual chaotic motion caused by the bad cosmic soul. The Demiurge, a pure Platonic concept, is the one who gives form to matter and mind to the cosmic soul. In view of that, Harpocra- tion's thought lies closer to Numenius who distinguished three gods, the Father, the Creator and the Creation, whereby the Creation is equated to the World. Both Harpocration and Numenius understood Plato to have already separated the Father from the Demiurge in Timeaus.48 However, Harpocration named the first God Uranus and Saturn, while the second was Jupiter and the third was the Cosmos. He later changed his position and named the first God 'Jupiter and king of the world' while the second was Archon, believing that the relationship between Jupiter, Saturn and Uranus is that of son, father and grandfather respectively. We draw this information from the work of Proclus who is very likely to have different interpretations of Harpocration. Proclus states specifically: Ἁρποκρατίων δε θαυμάσαιμ' ἄν, εἰ καί αὐτός ἑαυτόν γε ἀρέσκει τοιαῦτα περί τοῦ δημιουργοῦ διαταττόμενος* ἓπεται μέν γάρ τῷδε τῷ ἀνδρί κατά τήν τῶν τριῶν θεῶν παράδοσιν καί καθόσον διττόν ποιεῖ τόν δημιουργόν, ἀποκαλεῖ δέ τόν μέν πρῶτον θεόν Οὐρανόν καί Κρόνον, τόν δέ δεύτερον Δία καί Ζῆνα, τόν δέ τρίτον οὐρανόν καί κόσμον. Πάλιν δ  αὖ μεταβαλών τόν πρῶτον Δία προσαγορεύει καί βασιλέα τοῦ νοητοῦ, τόν δέ δεύτερον ἄρχοντα, καί ὁ αὐτός αὐτῷ γίγνεται Ζεύς καί Κρόνος καί Οὐρανός.49 Most probably, the term God refers to the first God and the term Lord to the Creator.50 It is worthwhile noting that the term Lord was widely used by the Gnostics, especially Basilides while it is attributed to the devil in the Gospel of St. John.51 Harpocration diverged from his teacher Atticus on the question of the origin of evil that exists in the human soul. Particularly, unlike Atticus, he alleged that evil does not exist in the soul, but around us, in the world which is thus completely bad.52 He thought of the body as the source of evil and not matter in general, as did Numenius. According to Harpocra- tion, each incarnation favors the development of evil.53 Although Harpocra- tion's positions on the issue of the creation of the world are platonic, he 47 Proclus, In Rempublicam Comentarii, II 37. 48 Plato, Timaeus, 28c. 49 Proclus, In Platonis Timaeum Commentaria, I 303–304. 50 Dillon, 1996: 259–260. 51 John: 12:31, 14:30, 16:11. 52 Van den Broek, 1979:265. 53 Johannes Stobaeus, Anthologium, I.49.37.97; Dillon, 1996: 260–262; Dillon – Fina- more, 2002: 137–138. 119 tends to adopt the Neopythagorean thoughts of Numenius and Cronius54 on the issue of the evil: "τῶν δ' αὖ διισταμένων προς τούτους καί ἀπό τῶν ἒξωθεν προσφυομένων προστιθέντων ὁπωσοῦν τῇ ψυχῇ το κακόν, ἀπό μέν τῆς ὓλης Νουμηνίου καί Κρονίου πολλάκις, ἀπό δε τῶν σωμάτων αὐτῶν τούτων ἒστιν ὅτε καί Ἁρποκρατίωνος".55 On the soul, Hermias reports that Harpocration considered each of its kinds as immortal, as Numenius believed, while both did not illustrate the fate of the inanimate part of the soul after the death of the body. Harpocration's solution was helpful even for Marsiglio Ficino56: Πρῶτον περί ποίας ψυχῆς ὁ λόγος ζητητέον. οἵ μέν γάρ περί τῆς τοῦ κόσμου μόνης ᾠήθησαν εἶναι τόν λόγον διά τό εἰρηκέναι αὐτόν  πᾶσα  καί μετ' ὀλίγα ἐπάγειν  ἢ πάντα τε οὐρανόν πᾶσαν τε γένεσιν ξυμπεσοῦσαν στῆναι* ὧν ἐστι Ποσειδώνιος ὁ Στωικός. οἳ δέ περί πάσης ἁπλῶς καί τῆς τοῦ μύρμηκος καί μυίας, ὧν ἐστιν Ἁρποκρατίων* τό γάρ  πᾶσα  ἐπί πάσης ψυχῆς ἀκούει.57 According to Olympiodorus, Harpocration could not interpret cer- tain puzzling passages from Phaedo, where Plato discussed the way philosophers and non-philosophers faced death. Harpocration asked why Plato underestimated the love of pleasure, but he was not able to provide an answer: Καί φησιν ὅτι εἰ φιλόσοφος, ἀδεὴς περὶ τὸν θάνατον, οὐκ εἶπεν δέ, εἰ ἀδεὴς περὶ τὸν θάνατον, καὶ φιλόσοφος• πολλοὶ γὰρ διὰ θράσος καὶ προπέτειαν ἐθέλουσιν ἀποθνῄσκειν μὴ ὄντες φιλόσοφοι. εἰ οὖν φιλόσοφος, καὶ ἀδεὴς περὶ τὸν θάνατον, καὶ εἰ μὴ ἀδεὴς περὶ τὸν θάνατον, οὐ φιλόσοφος, ἀλλά τις φιλοσώματος• ὁ τοιοῦτος δὲ ἢ φιλοχρήματός ἐστιν ἢ φιλότιμος. Καὶ διὰ τί τὸ φιλήδονον παρῆκεν; ὁ μὲν Ἁρποκρατίων ἀπορήσας οὐκ ἐπελύσατο•.58 On the contrary an anonymous commentary on Phaedo informs us that Harpocration gave two possible answers: he equated the lover of the body with the lover of pleasure. Otherwise we are obliged to suppose, according to Harpocration, that Plato censured Socrates.59 Nonetheless, in another source, Harpocration seems to support per- petual creation of souls. This position distances him away from classical Platonic philosophy and brings him closer to Christianity, despite the fact that Aeneas of Gaza presented Harpocration as a champion of the reincarnation of the soul: 54 Dillon, 1996: 261. 55 Johannes Stobaeus, Anthologium, 1.49.37.97; Dillon, 1971: 141. 56 Allen, 1990: 120. 57 Hermias, In Platonis Phaedrum scholia, 102.10–15; Dillon, 1971: 140. 58 Olympiodorus, In Platonis Phaedonem commentaria, 7.4.13–7.5.1. 59 Snyder, 2000: 104. 120 Πλωτῖνος γοῦν καὶ Ἁρποκρατίων, ἀμέλει καὶ Βοηθὸς καὶ Νουμήνιος τὸν τοῦ Πλάτωνος ἰκτῖνον παραλαβόντες ἰκτῖνον παραδιδόασι, καὶ τὸν λύκον λύκον, καὶ ὄνον τὸν ὄνον, καὶ ὁ πίθηκος αὐτοῖς οὐκ ἄλλο ἢ τοῦτο καὶ ὁ κύκνος οὐκ ἄλλο ἢ κύκνος νομίζεται• καὶ γὰρ πρὸ τοῦ σώματος κακίας ἐμπίμπλασθαι τὴν ψυχὴν δυνατὸν εἶναι λέγουσι καὶ τοῖς ἀλόγοις ἐξεικάζεσθαι• ᾧ γοῦν ὡμοιώθη, κατὰ τοῦτο φέρεται, ἄλλη ἄλλο ζῷον ὑποδῦσα.60 According to Damascius, Harpocration expressed also views on the nature of earth.61 As evidenced by Olympiodorus and Damascius, Harpocration was also interested in war, arguing that the two main motivations for it are enrichment and looting.62 Concerning virtue, he distinguishes false from true virtues taking into consideration political virtues, in some sense, as rhetorical qualities63: Ὅτι σκοπὸς αὐτῷ ἀποδιακρῖναι καὶ ὡς ἀληθῶς καθᾶραι τὰς καθαρτικὰς ἀρετὰς τῶν καταδεεστέρων πασῶν ἀρετῶν, οὐ μόνον τῶν ψευδωνύμων, ὡς Ἁρποκρατίων, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν 'ἐσκιαγραφημένων', οἷον τῶν φυσικῶν τε καὶ ἠθικῶν, οὐδὲ τούτων μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν τελείων πολιτικῶν. ἀποκρίνας γὰρ τὰς κακίας εἰκότως νῦν καὶ τὰς χείρους ἀρετὰς ἀποκαθαίρει.64 Harpocration was probably interested in politics, because he inter- preted politically even passions.65 Harpocration also was interested in love of body and honor, arguing that the human body has an inclina- tion to honor.66 In addition Harpocration suggested that braveness and prudence are almost the same: the abstention from the worst. As for justice, Harpocration adopted the Platonic definition: Ὁ μὲν οὖν Ἁρποκρατίων εἴξας καὶ ἐνταῦθα τὰς ἐν Πολιτείᾳ φησὶ παραδίδοσθαι. ἡμῖν δὲ ῥητέον ὅτι πᾶσαι τοὺς οἰκείους χαρακτῆρας ἐπιδείκνυνται πανταχοῦ κοινοὺς ὄντας ἰδίως ἐν ἑκάστοις• ἔστι γὰρ τῆς μὲν ἀνδρείας τὸ ἀρρεπὲς πρὸς τὰ χείρω, τῆς δὲ σωφροσύνης τὸ ἀποστρέφειν ἀπὸ τοῦ χείρονος, τῆς δὲ δικαιοσύνης ἡ ἴδιος ἐνέργεια καὶ τῷ ὄντι προσήκουσα, τῆς δὲ φρονήσεως τὸ ἐκλεκτικόν τε καὶ ἀπεκλεκτικὸν ἀγαθῶν τε καὶ κακῶν. διὸ τὸ 'μάλιστα' πρόσκειται.67 In conclusion, we would say that in the few passages that have survived from Harpocration's work, we observe a version of Platonic 60 Aeneas Gazaeus, Theophrastus, P. G., 85, c. 892 b; p. 12, 1. 5–11, in Numenius, Fragmenta, 5.49.1–9; Dillon, 1971: 135–136. 61 Damascius, In Phaedonem, 503. 62 Damascius, In Phaedonem, 110.1–4; Dillon, 1971: 129. 63 Dillon, 1971: 132–134. 64 Damascius, In Phaedonem, 147. 65 Damascius, In Phaedonem, 164.4–5. 66 Damascius, In Phaedonem, 137. 67 Damascius, In Phaedonem, 149.6–12. 121 thought clearly influenced by the current of Gnosticism. Harpocration's influence on both his contemporaries and his successors remains suf- ficiently obscure. Iamblichus, Proclus, Hermias, Olympiodorus, and Damascius as well as philosophers who were included in the current of Neoplatonism, spanning from the third to the sixth century A.D., had knowledge of his work. Proclus included Harpocration, with Numenius, Albinus, Gaius, Maximus of Nicaea, Euclid and Porphyry, among the top Platonists (τῶν Πλατωνικῶν οἱ κορυφαῖοι).68 Aeneas of Gaza, a Christian philosopher of the sixth century who followed the Neoplatonic tradition, also mentioned him. We cannot safely conclude from the sources whether all of them had studied the writings of Harpocration or their testimonies came from indirect sources. However, the testimony of Olympiodorus – who probably implied the existence of disciples to Harpocration "ὡς οἱ περί Ἁρποκρατίωνα ἠξίωσαν ἀκούειν"69 – is of a particular interest. Dillon believes that it is not clear from this sentence whether there actually was a circle of students of Harpocration. Such expressions are not uncommon in Neo-Platonic texts. Nonetheless, we would not say that something like that cannot be; it is very likely, if we accept that Lucius Verus was actually Harpocration's student, which strengthens the possibility of his teaching activity. PHILOSOPHY IN ARGOS IN PRE-CHRISTIAN TIMES Nevertheless, this is not the only known philosophical activity in the city of Argos. This is confirmed by the existence of many philosophers from Argos in classical antiquity who, to some extent like Harpocration much later, adhered to the current of Pythagoreanism. Pythagoras was born in Samos; however, in 532 BC, he moved to southern Italy, in an attempt to escape the tyrannical power of the tyrant Polycrates of Samos. In Croton he founded a philosophical school, with religious and political perspectives. The influence of his ideas expanded later to Tarentum and Metapontum, where he settled towards the end of his life. His teaching was oral and secret. No written text of his survived. His biographers included mainly: Diogenes Laertius, Porphyry and Iamblichus. Suppos- edly, they extracted information about Pythagoras' life from the trea- tises of Aristoxenus and Dicaiarchus, who were Peripatetics. Similarly, Aristotle had probably written "Περί Πυθαγορείων", which unfortunately did not survive.70 68 Proclus, In Platonis rem publicam comentarii, 2.96.10–13. 69 Dillon, 1971: 129. 70 Georgoulis, 2004: 53–62; Huffman, 2010. Zeller – Nestle, 2004: 38–45. 122 Pythagoras believed in reincarnation.71 Moreover, he claimed that he had a clear knowledge of the stages of reincarnation and of his own soul. According to Diodorus Siculus, Pythagoras told his disciples that in his previous life he was Euphorbus, the hero of the Trojan War. When Pythagoras visited Argos, he recognized in the temple of Hera his ar- mor which the people of Argos robbed from Troy. Indeed, he wept when he saw the shield which made the people of Argos confused and they asked him about the reason of his emotions. When he explained to them, they called him crazy. To convince them, Pythagoras told them that he had written the name Euphorbus on the inside of the shield which was not visible. The people of Argos brought the shield down for the first time in centuries and his words were proved true72: ὅτι ὁ Πυθαγόρας μετεμψύχωσιν ἐδόξαζε καὶ κρεοφαγίαν ὡς ἀποτρόπαιον ἡγεῖτο, πάντων τῶν ζῴων τὰς ψυχὰς μετὰ θάνατον εἰς ἕτερα ζῷα λέγων εἰσέρχεσθαι. καὶ αὐτὸς δὲ ἑαυτὸν ἔφασκεν ἐπὶ τῶν Τρωικῶν χρόνων μεμνῆσθαι γεγενημένον Εὔφορβον τὸν Πάνθου μὲν υἱόν, ἀναιρεθέντα δὲ ὑπὸ Μενελάου. ὅτι φασὶν αὐτὸν ἐν Ἄργει ποτὲ παρεπιδημήσαντα καὶ θεασάμενον τῶν Τρωικῶν σκύλων ἀσπίδα προσηλωμένην δακρύειν. ἐρωτηθέντα δὲ ὑπὸ τῶν Ἀργείων τὴν τοῦ πάθους αἰτίαν εἰπεῖν, ὅτι τὴν ἀσπίδα ταύτην εἶχεν αὐτὸς ἐν Τροίᾳ γεγονὼς Εὔφορβος. ἀπίστως δὲ διακειμένων καὶ μανίαν αὐτοῦ καταγινωσκόντων, σημεῖον ἐρεῖν ἔφησεν ἀληθὲς τοῦ ταῦθ' οὕτως ἔχειν: ἐκ τοῦ γὰρ ἐντὸς μέρους ἐπιγεγράφθαι τὴν ἀσπίδα γράμμασιν ἀρχαίοις ΕΥΦΟΡΒΟΥ. πάντων δὲ διὰ τὸ παράδοξον εἰπόντων καθελεῖν αὐτὴν, ἐντὸς συνέβη τὴν ἐπιγραφὴν εὑρεθῆναι.73 The great Roman poet Ovidius delivers the story in one of his Metamorphoses, where Pythagoras himself narrates the incident that happened in the temple of Hera: O genus attonitum gelidae formidine mortis, quid Styga, quid manes et nomina vana timetis, materiem vatum, falsique pericula mundi? Corpora, sive rogus flamma, seu tabe vetustas abstulerit, mala posse pati non ulla putetis! Morte carent animae, semperque priore relicta sede novis domibus vivunt habitantque receptae. Ipse ego (nam memini) Troiani tempore belli Panthoides Euphorbus eram, cui pectore quondam haesit in adverso gravis hasta minoris Atridae: cognovi clipeum, laevae gestamina nostrae, nuper Abanteis templo Iunonis in Argis.74 71 Diels – Kranz, 1952: 21Β7. 72 Barnes, 1982: 86–88. 73 Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca Historica, Χ.6.2–3. 74 Publius Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses, 15. 61–72. 123 In Pythagoras' biography, Diogenes Laertius shows that Euphorbus was one of the figures where Pythagoras' soul had previously incarnated: ἐν μὲν οὖν τῇ ζωῇ πάντων διαμνημονεῦσαι, ἐπεὶ δὲ ἀποθάνοι τηρῆσαι τὴν αὐτὴν μνήμην. χρόνῳ δ' ὕστερον εἰς Εὔφορβον ἐλθεῖν καὶ ὑπὸ Μενέλεω τρωθῆναι. ὁ δ' Εὔφορβος ἔλεγεν ὡς Αἰθαλίδης ποτὲ γεγόνοι καὶ ὅτι παρ' Ἑρμοῦ τὸ δῶρον λάβοι καὶ τὴν τῆς ψυχῆς περιπόλησιν, ὡς περιεπολήθη καὶ εἰς ὅσα φυτὰ καὶ ζῷα παρεγένετο καὶ ὅσα ἡ ψυχὴ ἐν τῷ Ἅιδῃ ἔπαθε καὶ αἱ λοιπαὶ τίνα ὑπομένουσιν. ἐπειδὴ δὲ Εὔφορβος ἀποθάνοι, μεταβῆναι τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ εἰς Ἑρμότιμον, ὃς καὶ αὐτὸς πίστιν θέλων δοῦναι ἐπανῆλθεν εἰς Βραγχίδας καὶ εἰσελθὼν εἰς τὸ τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος ἱερὸν ἐπέδειξεν ἣν Μενέλαος ἀνέθηκεν ἀσπίδα, (ἔφη γὰρ αὐτόν, ὅτ' ἀπέπλει ἐκ Τροίας, ἀναθεῖναι τῷ Ἀπόλλωνι τὴν ἀσπίδα,) διασεσηπυῖαν ἤδη, μόνον δὲ διαμένειν τὸ ἐλεφάντινον πρόσωπον. ἐπειδὴ δ' Ἑρμότιμος ἀπέθανε, γενέσθαι Πύρρον τὸν Δήλιον ἁλιέα· καὶ πάντα πάλιν μνημονεύειν, πῶς πρόσθεν Αἰθαλίδης, εἶτ' Εὔφορβος, εἶτα Ἑρμότιμος, εἶτα Πύρρος γένοιτο. ἐπειδὴ δὲ Πύρρος ἀπέθανε, γενέσθαι Πυθαγόραν καὶ πάντων τῶν εἰρημένων μεμνῆσθαι.75 Pausanias and Diogenes Laertius report that Pythagoras came from Phlius, near Nemea. This city, in the ancient times, flourished and was a loyal ally of the people of Sparta against those of Argos. When Falcus, son of Temenus of Argos, attacked Phlius, Hypassos, an ancestor of Pythagoras, moved to Samos, where existed, as in Argos, a famous temple of Hera. Particularly, Pausanias wrote: Ἡρακλειδῶν δὲ κατελθόντων Πελοπόννησος ἐταράχθη πᾶσα πλὴν Ἀρκάδων, ὡς πολλὰς μὲν τῶν πόλεων συνοίκους ἐκ τοῦ Δωρικοῦ προσλαβεῖν, πλείονας δὲ ἔτι γενέσθαι τὰς μεταβολὰς τοῖς οἰκήτορσι. τὰ δὲ κατὰ Φλιοῦντα οὕτως ἔχει. Ῥηγνίδας ἐπ' αὐτὴν ὁ Φάλκου τοῦ Τημένου Δωριεὺς ἐκ τε Ἄργους στρατεύει καὶ ἐκ τῆς Σικυωνίας. τῶν δὲ Φλιασίων τοῖς μὲν ἃ προεκαλεῖτο Ῥηγνίδας ἐφαίνετο ἀρεστά, μένοντας ἐπὶ τοῖς αὑτῶν βασιλέα Ῥηγνίδαν καὶ τοὺς σὺν ἐκείνῳ Δωριεῖς ἐπὶ ἀναδασμῷ γῆς δέχεσθαι: Ἵππασος δὲ καὶ οἱ σὺν αὐτῷ διεκελεύοντο ἀμύνεσθαι μηδὲ πολλῶν καὶ ἀγαθῶν ἀμαχεὶ τοῖς Δωριεῦσιν ἀφίστασθαι. προσεμένου δὲ τοῦ δήμου τὴν ἐναντίαν γνώμην, οὕτως Ἵππασος σὺν τοῖς ἐθέλουσιν ἐς Σάμον φεύγει. Ἱππάσου δὲ τούτου τέταρτος ἦν ἀπόγονος Πυθαγόρας ὁ λεγόμενος γενέσθαι σοφός: Μνησάρχου γὰρ Πυθαγόρας ἦν τοῦ Εὔφρονος τοῦ Ἱππάσου. ταῦτα μὲν Φλιάσιοι λέγουσι περὶ αὑτῶν, ὁμολογοῦσι δέ σφισι τὰ πολλὰ καὶ Σικυώνιοι.76 Diogenes Laertius reports: "ἔνιοι δ' υἱὸν μὲν εἶναι Μαρμάκου τοῦ Ἱππάσου τοῦ Εὐθύφρονος τοῦ Κλεωνύμου φυγάδος ἐκ Φλιοῦντος, οἰκεῖν δ' ἐν Σάμῳ τὸν Μάρμακον, ὅθεν Σάμιον τὸν Πυθαγόραν λέγεσθαι".77 75 Diogenes Laertius, Vitae Philosophorum, VIII 4–5. 76 Pausanias, Pausaniae Graeciae Descriptio, ΧΙΙΙ, 1–2. 77 Diogenes Laertius, Vitae Philosophorum, VIII 1–2. 124 In Iamblichus' work De vita Pythagorica, Hippomedon, Timosthenes, Evelthon, Thrasydamus, Criton, Polyctor and Possidis are mentioned as followers of Pythagoreanism. They fall within the current of the Py- thagoreans and originate from the city of Argos. Furthermore, in the same work, Iamblichus reports the names of 17 women who lived and were active during the 6th–4th centuries B.C. Like the aforementioned males, these women had learned Pythagorean mathematics and Pythagorean philosophy. Two of them were from Argos: Boio and Vavelyca.78 More- over, the Argive sculptor Polykleitos seems to have been influenced by Pythagoras' philosophy.79 He argued that beauty results from numbers. Except for a portion of researchers, some doubts are still raised about the validity of Iamblichus' reports because his work is not very accurate in some respects. I would say that the list Iamblichus provides is probably valid because its inaccuracy has not been proven so far.80 To strengthen the writings of Iamblichus relative to the existence of intense philosophical activity in Argos in the classical period, it is necessary to briefly refer to the case of Phlius, a relatively small town west of Nemea, shortly distance from Argos. From Phlius, the following philosophers of the classical period came: the Pythagoreans Phadon, Echecrates, Diocles and Polymnastos. They were considered to be disciples of Philolaus and Eurytus who, in turn, were among the most prominent Pythagoreans of ancient times.81 Moreover, the Pythagorean Echecrateia had her origin from Phlius. In addition to the Pythagore- ans, we have Asclipiades from Phlius (4th/3rd century B.C.). He initially studied at the Academy of Athens, but then went to Megara where he became a disciple of Stilpon, a philosopher of Megarian School. Further- more, the very important Timon (320–230 B.C.) was also a student of Stilpon, coming from Phlius and left a diverse work consisting of com- edies and tragedies along with satirical poems and philosophical texts. He also was a student of the great skeptic philosopher Pyrrho of Elis who, in turn, had accompanied Alexander the Great in his campaign to India (given in Sextus Empiricus, Pyrrhoniae Hypotyposes, first book and Adversos Mathematicos, books I, III, VI, VII, IX, X and XI, Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Philosophers). Axiothea was a student in Plato's Aca- demy as well. She came to Athens from Phlius and showed particular interest in mathematics and natural philosophy (Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Philosophers, Books III and IV). She later taught these sciences in Corinth and Athens.82 78 Iamblichus, De vita Pythagorica, ch. 128, 167. 79 Huffman, 2002: 303–327. 80 Huffman, 2010. 81 Diels – Kranz, 1952: I 442–443; Diogenes Laertius, Vitae Philosophorum, II 124–125. 82 Georgoulis, 2004: 352, 358, 444–445. 125 CONCLUSIONS I think it is obvious to assume that there is a close affinity of philo- sophical activity in Phlius and in Argos which remains to be investigated in more detail in the future. The research of written and archaeological sources can flourish further still. I hope that in the near future there will be evidence enough for a fuller presentation of philosophical activity in ancient Argos. BIBLIOGRAPHY Allen M., "Two Commentaries on the Phaedrus: Ficino's Indebtedness to Hermias", Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, v. 43 (1980), 110–129. Baltes M., "Zur Philosophie des Platonikers Attikos", Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum, v. 10 (1983), 38–57. Barnes J., The Presocratic Philosophers, London: Routledge, 1982. Benakis L., "Η ελληνική φιλοσοφία των πρώτων χριστιανικών αιώνων", in Ιστορία Ελληνικού Έθνους, v. ΣΤ , Athens: Εκδοτική Αθηνών, 1976, 430–448. Burnyeat M., "Platonism in the Bible: Numenius of Apamea on Exodus and Eternity", in R. Salles (ed.), Metaphysics, Soul and Ethics in Ancient Thought, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005, 143–169. Chaignet A. Ed., Histoire de la psychologie des Grecs: La psychologie de la nouvelle Académie et des écoles éclectiques, Paris: Hachette, 1890. Des Places Ε., Atticus Fragments, Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1977. Diels H. – Kranz W., Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, Dublin and Zurich: Weidmann, 1952. 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Zeller E. – Nestle W., Ιστορία της Ελληνικής Φιλοσοφίας, Athens: Εστία, 2004. Γεώργιος Στείρης Αθήνα Ο ΑΡΓΕΊΟΣ ΦΙΛΌΣΟΦΟΣ ΑΡΠΟΚΡΑΤΊΩΝ ΚΑΙ Η ΓΕΝΙΚΌΤΕΡΗ ΦΙΛΟΣΟΦΙΚΉ ΚΊΝΗΣΗ ΣΤΟ ΚΛΑΣΣΙΚΌ ΚΑΙ ΡΩΜΑΪΚΌ ᾺΡΓΟΣ Περίληψις Ο Αργείος Αρποκρατίων υπήρξε φιλόσοφος και υπομνηματιστής του 2ου μ.Χ. αιώνα, μαθητής του φιλοσόφου Αττικού, ο οποίος ανήκε στην παράδοση της μέσης πλατωνικής φιλοσοφίας. Σύμφωνα με το λεξικό της Σούδας ο Αρποκρατίων υπήρξε συνομιλητής και φίλος κάποιου Καίσαρα ("συμβιώτης"), ενώ πιθανότατα κατείχε και αξίωμα στην αυτοκρατορική αυλή. Ο Αρποκρατίων, ακολουθώντας το παράδειγμα 127 του δασκάλου του Αττικού, συνέγραψε αναλυτικότατα σχόλια για το σύνολο σχεδόν των κειμένων του Πλάτωνα, τα οποία συνολικά κατελάμβαναν 24 τόμους. Το έργο αυτό δεν διασώζεται, αλλά σημεία που το αποπνέουν μπορούν να αλιευθούν σε φιλοσοφικά κείμενα Το λεξικό της Σούδας του αποδίδει επιπλέον τη συγγραφή ενός δίτομου Πλατωνικού Λεξικού. Συμπερασματικά, θα λέγαμε πως στα ελάχιστα αποσπάσματα που έχουν διασωθεί από το έργο του Αρποκρατίωνα παρατηρείται μια εκδοχή της πλατωνικής σκέψης σαφώς επηρεασμένη από το ρεύμα του γνωστικισμού. Αρκετά σκοτεινή παραμένει και η επίδραση του Αρποκρατίωνα τόσο στους συγχρόνους του, όσο και στους μεταγενεστέρους. Γνώση του έργου του είχαν οι Ιάμβλιχος, Πρόκλος, Ερμείας, Ολυμπιόδωρος, Δαμάσκιος. Τον αναφέρει επίσης ο Αινείας Γαζαίος, χριστιανός φιλόσοφος του 6ου μ.Χ. αιώνα. Ιδιαίτερο όμως ενδιαφέρον παρουσιάζει η μαρτυρία του Ολυμπιοδώρου, ο οποίος πιθανότατα υπονοεί την ύπαρξη μαθητών του Αρποκρατίωνα: "ὡς οἱ περί Ἁρποκρατίωνα ἠξίωσαν ἀκούειν". Αυτή δεν είναι όμως η μόνη γνωστή φιλοσοφική δραστηριότητα στην πόλη του Άργους, καθώς και στην κλασσική αρχαιότητα μαρτυρούνται Αργείοι φιλόσοφοι, οι οποίοι, όπως και κατά ένα μέρος ο Αρποκρατίων αρκετά αργότερα, εντάσσονται στο ρεύμα του πυθαγορισμού. Aκόμα και ο Αργείος γλύπτης Πολύκλειτος φαίνεται να είχε επηρεαστεί από τη φιλοσοφία του Πυθαγόρα, καθώς υποστήριζε πως το ωραίο προκύπτει από τους αριθμούς.

UDC 1:61(38) 61:929 Galen 1 Koraes Soteres Fournaros University of Athens KORAES' PHILOSOPHY OF MEDICINE: BETWEEN HIPPOCRATES, GALEN AND HUME ABSTRACT: Do we need a doctor to be a philosopher? If no, we must not principally look for a virtuous person and, on the other hand, we must accept the humanistic crisis of our age, which has covered medicine, too. This means that we should not complain about a materialistic point of view, evident in contemporary medical affairs. If yes, we should presuppose medical ethics as prevalent and demand its realization. Koraes (1748–1833), the so called "Dean of the Neohellenic Enlightenment", was a philosopher-doctor. He forms a philosophy of medicine within ethics and rationalism. Rationalism refers to the scientific progress, putting an emphasis on a cause-causal approach. Ethics contains a doctrina de officiis (such as serving the poor, refusing profiteering, acquiring Plato's view that a doctor is a ruler, having the human body as a subject, and not a money-maker, etc.). We must also stress that, according to the Neohellene enlightener, "proper" medicine cannot be conceived without ethics. Given his eclecticism, Koraes enriches the aforementioned scope of convictions with ancient ideas and underlines them by opposing to certain modern ones. Hippocrates mainly, and Galen, cover both ethics and rationalism. On the contrary, Hume stands for an opposition when he severely undermines the environment's overall impact on moral (and political) matters. This was unacceptable for Koraes, since Hippocrates proved to be his philosophical guide regarding medicine, and, moreover, one of the ancient philosopher-doctor's leading principles was the importance of the environmental role in shaping ethics and affecting pathology. But, moderns are not outcast by the Neohellene philosopher. Doctors and medical schools of his time are apparent in his works. Nowadays, an update of this philosophy of medicine would still illuminate a humanistic-moral imperative. KEY WORDS: Koraes (1748–1833), Galen (2/3 century AD), Hume (1711– 1776), philosopher-doctor, Neohellenic Enlightenment, ethics, rationalism, environment, anti-materialism. 176 INTRODUCTION Philosophy of medicine is principally focused on two philosophical areas: rationalism and ethics. The first one can be combined with epis- temological principles – and, therefore, we would talk about an episte- mological rationalism, or about the rational principles of gnosiology regarding medicine. The second area reveals either the doctor's virtues or the contemporary ethical context or of humanity in general, with which he should comply as a human being who serves humans of his time and humanism as well. In such a frame, we find in the works of a Helene philosopher-doctor of the late 18th and the early 19th century, Adamantios Koraes, a rationalistic approach that stands for reasoning, revolving around the cause-causal effect. Additionally, his medical ethics demonstrate doctor's virtues derived from a -beyond time- humanistic fountain, but updated and applied to the aforementioned period of time. Thus, it is ecumenical and contemporary, too. This point of view gives rise to an eternal question, especially nowadays when materialism and atomistic utilitarianism, not humanism, prevail: do we need a doctor to be a philosopher, meaning a virtuous person mainly? With all the specialization of the 21st century, the medical reasoning which covers the cause-causal mystery is being unraveled in the laboratory. But ethics still remains a difficult matter, from the realization of which a doctor becomes virtuous, in other words human, and philosopher. Undoubtedly, Hippocrates, or to be more accurate the Hippocratic corpus, provides solutions to both philosophical areas we have mentioned. Koraes' primary focal point is the Hippocratic On Airs, Waters and Places (first published by him in French in 1800 and in Greek in 1816 – updated editions with later evolutions on the Philosophy of Medicine)1. However, the preparation of this work is found in 1787, when Koraes published the treatise he had submitted to the University of Montpellier entitled Médicus Hippocraticus, sive de praecipuis officiis medici ex primo Hippocratis aphorismo deductis2. This is "The Hippocratic Doctor, 1 The full titles of these works are: 1) Traité d' Hippocrate des Airs, des Eaux et des Lieux, Traduction Nouvelle, avec le texte grec collationé sur deux manuscrits, des notes critiques, historiques & médicales, un discours préliminaire, un tableu comparatif des vents anciens & modernes, une carte géographique, & les index nécessaires, par Coray, docteur en Médicine de la ci-devant Facultè de Montpellier, à Paris, de l' imprimerie de Baudelot et Eberhart, l' An IX (1800), and 2) Ἱπποκράτους καὶ Γαληνοῦ Συγγραμμάτια, ἤτοι Ἱπποκράτους τὸ Περὶ Ἀέρων, Ὑδάτων, Τόπων, δεύτερον ἐκδοθὲν μετὰ τῆς Γαλλικῆς μεταφράσεως, ᾧ προσετέθη ἐκ τοῦ αὐτοῦ Ἱπποκράτους καὶ ὁ Νόμος, μετὰ τῆς Γαλλικῆς μεταφράσεως καὶ τὸ τοῦ Γαληνοῦ Ὅτι ἄριστος ἰατρός, καὶ φιλόσοφος, φιλοτίμῳ δαπάνῃ τῶν ὁμογενῶν Χίων, ἐν Παρισίοις, ἐκ τῆς τυπογραφίας Ἰ.Μ. Ἐβεράρτου, se trouve chez Thèophille Barrois, père, lib., 1816. 2 The full title is: Médicus Hippocraticus, sive de praecipuis officiis medici ex primo Hippocratis aphorismo deductis Oratio ab auctore D. Coray Smyrnensi, in inclyta Universitate Monspeliensi, habita, pro gradu Doctoratus consequendo, Monspelii, apud Joannem Martel, 177 namely the main doctor's doctrina de officiis as deduced by the first Hippocratic Aphorism". The emergence of the Koraic medical ethics is evident here. Furthermore, another important philosopher-doctor of the ancient years, Galen, attracts the Neohellene enlightener together with Hippocrates. In the 1816 Hippocratic publication we notice the presence of the Galenic work That the Best Physician is also a Philosopher. Koraes' eclectic philosophical attitude is deliberately directed to one more powerful bond between philosophy and medicine. These two signifi- cant ancient figures, together with some Europeans of the 18th and 19th centuries, consist a spectrum, opposite to certain Humean convictions which are connected with medical parameters. HIPPOCRATES FIRST APHORISM The Hippocratic aphorisms are in general the most famous work of the Hippocratic corpus. All the aphorisms are the outcome of a life experience on practicing medicine. Their main aim is didactic and they refer to all doctors beyond time limits. The first aphorism, especially, belongs to a section where medical theory and practice occur: 1. Life is short, and Art long; the crisis fleeting; experience perilous, and decision difficult. The physician must not only be prepared to do what is right himself, but also to make the patient, the attendants, and externals cooperate. (transl. Francis Adams)3 It deals with the lifelong significant parameters that characterize such a profession. These could be summarized in a combination of per- sonal traits and external conditions, which must be well-balanced, and well-directed by the doctor. In this medical context of the above men- tioned world-wide known aphorism "ars longa, vita brevis", we should point out that the meaning of "art" results primarily into "craft", indi- cating the medical art, the practice of medicine on a patient. Therefore, this task takes a lifetime to be fully approached, whereas simultaneously life is too short. Hence, the medical task ends to be huge when compared to the smallness of life. Additionally, the essence of "the crisis fleeting" emerges from an opportunity or an occasion that does not happen so often and does not last too long. It is a right – a best time, or a critical (medical) moment difficult to capture and handle. As far as the "expe- rience perilous" is concerned, it is better understood as a full-of-dangers road to gain experience. At the same time, an evidently ambiguous natu majorem, Regis, Occitaniae Comitiorum, Universitatisque Typographum MDCCLXXXVII [1787]. 3 Available in MIT Classics Archive: http://classics.mit.edu/Hippocrates/aphorisms.1.i.html. meaning stems from "decision difficult". The problem arises from the Hellenic original text, where the term "crisis" is used and is rendered in the English translation as "decision". Without a doubt, this is the first option. The second one is based upon a different interpretation: the "crisis of an illness". Hence, this meaning would relate to "the accompanying hazards of the crisis and, therefore, doctor's obligation to take (the not so easy) measures for the confrontation of these hazards"4. At the end of the aphorism we witness the important overall medical atmosphere, which paves the way for a successful practice of the profession. This consists of the right decisions a doctor should make, but also of his efficiency to achieve the best cooperation with the patient and the people accompanying him / her, as well as the external conditions. ON AIRS, WATERS AND PLACES This Hippocratic work reveals the impact airs, waters and places have on medicine. It is a bioclimatological aspect wich puts emphasis on the environmental effects on human beings. It mostly focuses on climate's impact on the disease causation. Definitely, it sets as an indisputable term the beforehand consideration of the environmental factors towards the proper investigation of medicine: Part 1 Whoever wishes to investigate medicine properly, should proceed thus: in the first place to consider the seasons of the year, and what effects each of them produces for they are not at all alike, but differ much from themselves in regard to their changes. Then the winds, the hot and the cold, especially such as are common to all countries, and then such as are peculiar to each locality. We must also consider the qualities of the waters... when one comes into a city to which he is a stranger, he ought to consider its situation, how it lies as to the winds and the rising of the sun; for its influence is not the same whether it lies to the north or the south, to the rising or to the setting sun. (transl. Francis Adams)5 And: Part 2 From these things he must proceed to investigate everything else. For if one knows all these things well, or at least the greater part of them, he cannot miss knowing, when he comes into a strange city, either the dis- eases peculiar to the place, or the particular nature of common diseases, 4 Hippocrates, Medical issues, Zitros, Thessaloniki 2000, vol. 2, p. 204. all translation by the author. 5 Available in MIT Classics Archive: http://classics.mit.edu/Hippocrates/airwatpl.1.1.html. 178 so that he will not be in doubt as to the treatment of the diseases, or com- mit mistakes, as is likely to be the case provided one had not previously considered these matters. (transl. Francis Adams)6 This perspective is the outcome of a revolutionary, for the ancient times, disconnection of illness with gods. Hereafter, sickness relates to environmental parameters and unhealthy factors (i.e. diet) and not to a godly given punishment. This Hippocratic work detects all these in two levels: first, the health of the individuals (Parts 1–11) and, second, the psychological and the bodily qualities of peoples (Parts 12–24). The latter concerns the most marked morphological, geographical and natural differences between Asia and Europe, and Asians and Europeans as well: Part 12 I wish to show, respecting Asia and Europe, how, in all respects, they differ from one another, and concerning the figure of the inhabitants, for they are different, and do not at all resemble one another. To treat of all would be a long story, but I will tell you how I think it is with regard to the greatest and most marked differences. (transl. Francis Adams)7 Additionally, as it becomes obvious in the original Hellenic text, philosophy makes its presence clear from the first words. These are "ὀρθῶς" (properly), "ζητέειν" (investigate), "ἐνθυμέεσθαι" (consider). Attention, especially, should be drawn to "ζητέειν" (investigate), which is a typical philosophical term. Therefore, a proper philosophical investi- gation in medicine and a consideration of relevant matters takes place. GALEN'S THAT THE BEST PHYSICIAN IS ALSO A PHILOSOPHER Galen, this prominent philosopher-doctor, in his small work That the Best Physician is also a Philosopher defends Hippocrates towards all the doctors of the late antiquity (2nd and early 3rd century AD), who ap- peared Hippocratic advocates, whereas they weren't. In such a frame- work, Galen demonstrated his interest in the ancient debate between the empiricist and the rationalist medical schools, expressing an eclectic stance in the combination of theoretical -the so called "philosophical" in that period of time- and practical medicine involving experimentation, observation, vivisection, dissection. Additionally, there was a third school of medicine, the Methodists, who neared Galen's middle attitude, but 6 Ibid.: http://classics.mit.edu/Hippocrates/airwatpl.2.2.html. 7 Ibid.: http://classics.mit.edu/Hippocrates/airwatpl.12.12.html. 179 were simultaneously neither so theoretical, nor so experimental. They mostly focused on the study of the step-by-step evolution of the illnesses and not on their cure. Apparently, the grounding of medical practice in theory ("philoso- phy") constructs Galen's point of view. In this regard, his philosophical aspect comprises rationalism and ethics: What reason, then, remains why the doctor, who practises the Art in a manner worthy of Hippocrates, should not be a philosopher? For since, in order to discover the nature of the body, and the distinctions between diseases, and the indications for remedies, he must exercise his mind in rational thought, and since, so that he may persevere laboriously in the practice of these things, he must despise riches and exercise temperance, he must already possess all the parts of philosophy: the logical, the sci- entific, and the ethical. Οr need he fear, if he condemns riches and lives temperately, that he will be doing something out of place; for all the rash and unjust things that men do, they do because they are seduced by covetousness, or bewitched by pleasure. So he must of necessity have the other virtues as well; for they are all connected [...] (transl. P. Brian)8 Evidently, whoever is a true doctor must be a philosopher, too. This means that he needs rational thought as far as physiology and true knowledge of diseases and remedies is concerned, and moreover he should be a virtuous person, which is a sum of certain virtues (despise of riches, exercise of temperance) in co-ordination with virtuous life in general. Thus, the true doctor must possess all parts of philosophy as Galen indicates them in the (stoic) spirit of his time: the logical, the sci- entific (on physics9, on nature), and the ethical. Logic is "the science of how to think. Logic will help the physician to use deduction and reach conclusions in medical research. Physics, on the other hand, is the science of what is, the knowledge of the Nature in the widest sense, and Ethics is the science of what to do; its ideals are self-control, scorn for material wealth, for the weaknesses of the flesh, and finally to live a hardwork- ing life"10. It is of great importance to stress that Galen demands from a potential doctor a beforehand possession of the philosophical branches, in order to become a true Hippocratic follower, even better than the father of medicine, and a true doctor, too. 8 See P. Brian, "Galen on the ideal of the physician", South Africa Medical Journal, 52 (1977), p. 937. The original Galenic text is in p. 14 (publisher: Erlangae, Typis Joann. Paul. Adolph. Junge et Filii, 1873). 9 The original word is "φυσικόν", which is on physics, including nature for sure. The relevant stoic notion refers to universe in general. 10 T. Drizis, "Medical Ethics in a Writing of Galen", Acta Med Hist Adriat, 6, 2 (2008), p. 335. 180 181 HUME'S ESSAYS AND TREATISES ON SEVERAL SUBJECTS It is worth emphasizing that Koraes grabbed the pulse of his era when showed interest in a very famous in the 18th century Humean work, the Essays and Treatises on Several Subjects. Hume dedicated most of his lifetime (from about 1740 until 1776, when he passed away) in the preparation and revision of these Essays, which were on moral, political and literary matters. The widely known today Humean Treatise of Human Nature did not attract many readers in the aforementioned century, whereas the reverse result appears with his Essays and Treatises. It must be noted that Adam Smith found Hume revising and cor- recting the Essays and Treatises, when visited him a couple of weeks (August 8) before Hume's death (August 25, 1776). Indeed, this collec- tion had numerous editions, from the four-volume ones in 1753–1754, 1760 and 1770, to the one-volume edition in 1758, and to the two-volume ones in 1764, 1767, 1768, 1772 and 1777. It was also honored with plenty of translations, in German, French and Italian. THE HIPPOCRATIC KORAES VERSUS HUME The prima facie moral, political and literary content of the Essays and Treatises on Several Subjects can bear little or no relation to philoso- phy of medicine. Conversely, the Hippocratic First Aphorism and the On Airs, Waters and Places, as well as the Galenic That the Best Physician is also a Philosopher are obviously correlated to this philosophical area. But, Koraes contradicts Hume on political, epistemological-gnosiologi- cal and ethnological grounds in the light of environmental effects on human beings and moral attitude, which lead us back to the origins of philosophy of medicine. The Neohellene enlightener argues that Hume's conviction that "regarding the establishment of a democracy is needed only one Brutus at the head of the government, in order his enthusiasm to be transmitted to the whole nation and be reinforced, passing on from one generation to the other"11 is incorrect. The core of the argument comes from the direct relation between the establishment of democracy and the bioclimatological conditions. Koraes asserts that we mustn't disregard the absence of a Brutus in Lapones (who live in the icy Arctic), nor in the tropical coun- tries (which are extremely warm and humid). Due to climate's impact, the Neohellene enlightener adds the collapse of all advantages concerning 11 A. Koraes, Traité d' Hippocrate des Airs, des Eaux et des Lieux, 1800, pp. 551–552. 182 equality, which could be given by a generous political person to his fel- low-citizens, and this would take place soon, compared to the possible establishment of democracy in a more temperate country. Where does Koraes draw such conclusions from in his first argu- ment? What makes him certain? The answer is found in the Hippocratic philosophy of medicine. The On Airs, Waters and Places provides all the necessary material for a shift from climate to differences between peoples: Part 1 When one comes into a city to which he is a stranger, he ought to consider its situation, how it lies as to the winds and the rising of the sun; for its influence is not the same whether it lies to the north or the south, to the rising or to the setting sun. (emphasis added) And Part 12 I wish to show, respecting Asia and Europe, how, in all respects, they differ from one another. (emphasis added) Indeed, the Neohellene philosopher-doctor, who had studied medi- cine (1782–1787) in the Hippocratically directed University of Montpel- lier, adopts these theses affirming the undoubted and great climate's and laws' impact on the physical and ethical condition of both healthy and sick people12. Thus he brings the Hippocratic tradition to the fore, leading it to a political outcome, which in general was the predominant trend in his thought. Ergo, Koraes results into underlining the difference between political freedom and servitude. The rationalistic background the Koraic first argument versus Hume has, addresses political matters within philosophy of medicine. Hippoc- rates stands for an indisputable paradigm on the linkage of environmen- tal parameters, human composition, political conditions, on the one hand, and their total effect on the disposition of the human soul, on the other13. In this way the Neohellene philosopher-doctor contradicts rationally Hume, stating politics' interconnection with bioclimatological factors, which prevented an, equivalent to Brutus', political appearance in the arctic or the tropical zone and concurrently augur well for the power of democracy in the temperate zone. Koraes' second argument versus Hume covers gnosiological-epis- temological issues in a relation to ethics. He maintains the Humean philosophical maxim "we must regard as inexistent all causes that do 12 See A. Koraes, Ἱπποκράτους καὶ Γαληνοῦ Συγγραμμάτια, 1816 in Προλεγόμενα στους Αρχαίους Έλληνες συγγραφείς [Prolegomena to the Ancient Greek writers], MIET, Athens 1988, vol. 2, p. 359. 13 Ibid. 183 not at all come under our senses"14 is surely acceptable but, he adds, natural causes, such as weather changes, escape our senses. The Neohel- lene enlightener refers specifically to the ethical impact of the winds' change. He clarifies the empirical truth regarding the different mood humans have due to sunny or rainy weather, especially when it changes from one to the other, and north or south wind. He adds the conviction that there are certain winds almost paralyzing the body which impart their action to the spirit leading it to inertia and depriving it of even its power to think. The argument results in the hypothesis that a constant presence of such natural causes can, in the long term, affect our tem- perament, modify our passions and determine our moral character15. Thus, the famous Humean law of causality gets Koraes' credit, but is simultaneously surpassed. Is this a paradox? It could be if the Hippocratic background did not remain unaltered in the Koraic thought. The gnosio- logical-epistemological first part of this argument, which is bonded with empiricism (senses), is fully accepted by the Neohellene enlightener due to his philosophical engagement in the chariot of the enlightenment, where "the particular stress of the world of senses is the weapon of a noesis, which desires to constitute a system of thought versus, amongst others, the axiological scale of another cosmotheory"16 coming from the Middle Ages. But it is surpassed within his philosophy of medicine and its Hippocratic grounding. The unperceived from the senses impact the weather changes have on human mood, results into the argument's second part, which refers to changes in the moral character, hence illuminat- ing a philosophical transposition from gnosiology to ethics within the surpassing of gnosiological matters. The intriguing part of the afore- mentioned Koraic argumentation concerns the presence of natural causes, such as weather changes, which escape our senses. Apparently, it means that humans don't see, hear, smell, taste, or touch these changes, but, first of all, feel them. An inner experience – different to physical sensation – occurs. Even if our criticism could focus on the possible involvement of senses in the creation of a feeling (e.g. we see the change from sunny to rainy weather, which may provide the ground for generating different feelings; we also see and hear the (north and south) wind blowing, which may result in creating feelings), it's the Hippocratic philosophy of medi- cine, with its environmental effects on human beings, that prevails in the Koraic thought. Accordingly, the Humean law of causality is being re-approached by the Neohellene philosopher-doctor, indicating an ad- ditional existence of (natural) causes beyond senses. 14 A. Koraes, Traité d' Hippocrate des Airs, des Eaux et des Lieux, 1800, p. 553. 15 Ibid. 16 P. Kondyles, Ο ευρωπαϊκός διαφωτισμός [The European Enlightenment], Themelio, Athens 1993, pp. 64–65. 184 The other two Koraic arguments versus Hume reveal the same en- vironmental prerequisite in the shape of ethics, signifying the intercon- nection between climate and moral attitude. The third argument espe- cially pertains to the Chinese, who according to Hume, as quoted by Koraes, "have in their whole vast empire the same national character though their climate is not the same everywhere"17. The Neohellene enlightener's reaction affirms his commitment to the Hippocratic ideas. Koraes states that the Chinese national character, "the same as to the moral causes that formed it, ought to present by virtue of natural causes so many different nuances as many the provinces are"18. Correspond- ingly, the fourth Koraic argument illuminates the difference between a German Jew and a Portuguese one, whereas Hume claims the similarity of Jews worldwide19. Koraes is clear that this amazing resemblance is a consequence of the moral causes, which form general similarities in an attitude. RATIONALISM AND MEDICAL ETHICS: THE KORAIC HIPPOCRATES AND GALEN Obviously, the Koraic philosophy of medicine involves moral issues. But, if these are placed under climate's impact – demonstrating a peculiar synthesis referring to environmental ethics, not in the way we know it today (extending ethics beyond humans, in the non-human world) –, as far as the doctor is concerned moral principles almost monopolize Koraes' thought. Nevertheless, rationalism stands for a medical presupposition regarding medicine and designates the philosophical intervention in the first place. In this regard, Galen provides important evidence: [The doctor] in order to discover the nature of the body, and the distinctions between diseases, and the indications for remedies, he must exercise his mind in rational thought, and since, so that he may persevere laboriously in the practice of these things, he must despise riches and exercise temperance, he must already possess all the parts of philosophy: the logical, the scientific, and the ethical. [...] So he must of necessity have the other virtues as well; [emphasis added]. Thus, rationalism and ethics consist two inherent parts of the phi- losopher-doctor and augur well for his connection with the Hippocratic paradigm. Galen illuminates the case: 17 A. Koraes, Traité d' Hippocrate des Airs, des Eaux et des Lieux, 1800, p. 554. 18 Ibid. 19 See ibid., p. 555. 185 [...] and it should be our first duty to study philosophy, if we are to be true followers of Hippocrates (transl. P. Brian)20 [emphasis added]. This last Galenic thesis clarifies Koraes' choice to publish in Greek in 1816 one of his most important works on Hippocrates, his Prolegomena to the On airs, waters and Places by the father of medicine, to which he added the Hippocratic The Law21, together with Galen and his trea- tise That the Best Physician is also a Philosopher. In this publication the combination of rationalism and ethics remains unaltered, but most importantly it is updated. The Neohellene philosopher-doctor stresses that "'Proper'-'True' medicine must be inseparable from Ethics"22. True medicine refers to rational parameters, such as "a methodical system" of proceeding this art, reasoning, "philosophical judgment" that relates to acuteness and preciseness, knowledge built on observation23 and experience, induc- tion. On the other hand, an "irrational" medicine, which Koraes calls "non-philosophical", encompasses irrationalism, mysticism and, con- sequently, quackery. The synthesis of all these – adoption of the first part and rejection of the second – mirrors an updated equivalent to the Hippocratic practice of proper medicine. This update can be identified with the content of the philosophical evolution of the European 17th–18th century: the "experimental philosophy"24. Koraes derives his medical ethics from the Hippocratic First Aphorism, the Hippocratic paradigm in general, and Galen as well. In the Koraic dissertation in Latin Médicus Hippocraticus, sive de praecipuis officiis medici ex primo Hippocratis aphorismo deductis (which is "The Hippocratic Doctor, namely the main doctor's doctrina de officiis as deduced by the first Hippocratic Aphorism") we read: 20 See P. Brian, "Galen on the ideal of the physician", p. 937. The original text is in p. 14 (publisher: Erlangae, Typis Joann. Paul. Adolph.Junge et Filii, 1873). 21 This work contains pedagogical, and deontological, material regarding the real, and not in title, doctor, which can be summarized in its following phrase: "Whoever is to acquire a competent knowledge of medicine, ought to be possessed of the following advantages: a natural disposition; instruction; a favourable position for the study; early tuition; love of labour; leisure." Part 2 (transl. Fr. Adams). See MIT Classics Archive: http://classics.mit.edu/ Hippocrates/airwatpl.2.2.html. 22 A. Koraes, Ἱπποκράτους καὶ Γαληνοῦ Συγγραμμάτια, 1816, ibid., p. 365. 23 Cf. Galen's interest in observation in section 3. 24 Koraes puts it explicitly. See his Στοχασμοὶ Αὐτοσχέδιοι [Improvised Reflections], in A. Koraes, Προλεγόμενα στους Αρχαίους Έλληνες συγγραφείς [Prolegomena to the Ancient Greek writers], MIET, Athens 1986, vol. 1, p. 193. It is worth underlining that experimenta- tion, especially its effective use by the doctor, appears even in Koraes' early writing, the Médicus Hippocraticus, sive de praecipuis officiis medici ex primo Hippocratis aphorismo deductis, in 1787. See the Greek translation in A. Koraes, Medicus Hippocraticus (Introduction and translation by A. Kalospyros), Alfa-Pi, Chios 2009, p. 69. 186 Whoever wants to possess the art of curing [...] is necessary to distin- guish himself, not only as acute, but as someone who participates in the genuine virtue25. The two cornerstones of his philosophy of medicine (rationalism and ethics) are still evident. Or, to be more accurate, they are existent from this first writing in 1787 and remain identical in his later ones regarding the great doctors of antiquity. Thereupon Koraes unfolds the doctor's doctrina de officiis while focusing on the Hippocratic first aphorism. In this doctrina becomes evident the epitomizing of rationalism as "medical wisdom"26, and follows the core of medical ethics containing: usefulness, or at least no harm to the patients, love of humanity (which, according to Hippocrates as stated by Koraes, results in the love of the art of medicine), affability, patience, love of truth, with courage and hope, collaboration with other doctors without envy and arrogance, no selfishness – which embodies avoidance of more care for the looks than the salvation of the unhealthy, cleanness and elegance –, indiscriminate offer of the medical services (to the rich and the poor), distance from profits27. Unsurprisingly, the later Koraes, in 1816, insists on a similar se- lection of moral principles constructing them again on the prerequisite of wisdom's (rationalism) and virtue's (ethics) synthesis that shapes the philosopher-doctor. The principles refer to: love of humanity, indiscrimi- nate offer of the medical services, close watch of few patients, cure of a compatriot28 first, and a poor man in case of extreme work, rejection of profiteering -bearing especially in mind the Platonic words that a doctor is "a ruler, having the human body as a subject, and not a money-maker"29, not-beforehand-agreement of the payment, love of and devotion to medi- cine, body-and-soul option of cure, curbing of passions, usefulness, or at least no harm to the patients30. The recipients of the aforementioned humanistic-moral imperatives are the young Greek students of medicine of the early 19th century. It's of great importance to stress that Koraes calls them repeatedly "teachers of ethics"31. No doubt, the Neohellene enlightener's philosophy of medicine is an updated Hippocratic sacred art and its medical ethics the outcome 25 Translation is mine. See A. Koraes, Medicus Hippocraticus, ibid., pp. 61–69. For this passage see p. 61. 26 Ibid., p. 65: "ιατρική σοφία". 27 For all these principles see ibid., pp. 63, 67–69. 28 Let us not forget that the Koraic lines are published in 1816, when Greece was under the Ottoman yoke. This justifies his viewpoint regarding curing the compatriots first. It also illuminates the more practical content of the 1816 publication of Hippocrates (and Galen). 29 Plato, Republic, Α , 342 d 6–7. 30 A. Koraes, Ἱπποκράτους καὶ Γαληνοῦ Συγγραμμάτια, 1816, ibid., pp. 363–378. 31 See ibid., e.g. pp. 366–367. 187 of the Hippocratic moral paradigm, which Koraes parallels to the So- cratic one32. Next to it stands the Galenic paradigm, where a lot of the doctor's moral principles – such as to "despise riches and exercise temperance" and to have "other virtues as well; for they are all connected" – are the same with the father's of medicine. In the end, all these and, particularly, their rational and moral content form Koraes' philosophical medicine and depict the Koraic Hippocrates and Galen in its updated description. CONCLUSION The cornerstone of the Koraic thought, not only in the philosophy of medicine, is principally classical and – parallel to this – later antiquity. Moreover, Koraes' philosophical eclecticism33, evident in his Prolegomena, is the reason for his philosophical moves from ancients to his con- temporaries. Hence, in his thought the latter are not generally outcast, not in the field of medicine and its philosophy, too. His professor of physiology and pyretology in Montpellier, Jean Charles Marguérite Guillaume de Grimaud, as well as Philippe Pinel34, Paul Joseph Barthez, the English doctors William Herbeden and Sir George Baker, are only some of them. We must mention that Barthez, Grimaud and Pinel are of the greatest exponents of the Hippocratic theory regarding the impor- tant environmental impact on the formation of the human society35. Additionally, the University of Montpellier, where Koraes studied medi- cine, was the French center of the theory of vitalisme, in which Hip- pocrates was linked with the theory of animisme. In that regard, the descartesian perception of the body as a machine was rejected. Such a philosophical atmosphere paved the way for the principally Hippocratic and subsequently Galenic grounding of the Koraic philos- ophy of medicine. Galen, as a true follower of Hippocrates, could not but be a crucial part of the Koraic philosophical medicine. Hume, on the other hand, came under a criticism any philosopher would come under, 32 Ibid., p. 325: "[Hippocrates] resembling his contemporary Socrates in the way of liv- ing[...] [Hippocrates] had only one goal, which all the true friends of virtue should have: to benefit humans [just like Socrates did]". 33 His admiration for the enlightened France and England of his time is bonded with their eclectic philosophy, too: "εἰς τὴν Ἀγγλίαν καὶ τὴν Γαλλίαν ἄλλην φιλοσοφίαν δὲν ἐξεύρουσιν παρὰ τὴν Ἐκλεκτικὴν" ["in England and in France they do not know any other philosophy than the Eclectic"]. See A. Koraes, Αλληλογραφία [Correspondence], Estia, vol. 2, Athens 1966, p. 314. 34 Pinel had published in 1789 his Philosophical Nosography. See Ph. Pinel, Nosographie philosophique, ou la méthode de l' analyse appliquée à la médicine, vols I–II, Paris 1789. 35 See A. Koraes, Medicus Hippocraticus (Introduction and translation by A. Kalospyros), p. 32 (Introduction). 188 if his convictions set aside the Hippocratic philosophy, particularly re- garding the different environmental effects on humans. Koraes' philosophy of medicine is mainly focused on a bipartite approach, with rational and moral portions. Can such an angle be regard- ed as out of date? No doubt, today's great scientific progress, in medicine too, owes a lot to rationalism, and especially reasoning. But, if medicine is confined to it and a doctor is just a machine curing diseases, what's the point in examining the philosopher-doctor? If it's worth-doing it, then we would look for a doctor-virtuous person inside the core of the numerous moral principles as described by Hippocrates, Galen, or their Koraic synthesis. If we don't follow this route, it's worthless complaining about a materialistic point of view, evident in contemporary medical affairs, in which humans are not sometimes treated as they should. In our age philosophy in medicine equates to the doctor's humanistic moral principles above all. Σωτήρης Φουρνάρος Αθήνα Η ΦΙΛΟΣΟΦΙΑ ΤΗΣ ΙΑΤΡΙΚΗΣ ΤΟΥ ΚΟΡΑΗ: ΑΝΑΜΕΣΑ ΣΤΟΝ ΙΠΠΟΚΡΑΤΗ, ΤΟΝ ΓΑΛΗΝΟ ΚΑΙ ΤΟΝ ΧΙΟΥΜ Περίληψη Χρειάζεται ο ιατρός να είναι φιλόσοφος; Αν όχι, δεν θα πρέπει να προσμένουμε να συνιστά πρόσωπο με κυρίαρχη την ηθική διάσταση, ενώ ταυτόχρονα πρέπει να αποδεχτούμε την ανθρωπιστική κρίση της εποχής μας, η οποία έχει αγγίξει και το ιατρικό πεδίο. Τούτο σημαίνει ότι δεν θα πρέπει να δυσανασχετούμε απέναντι στη σύγχρονη υλιστική οπτική που έχει αφήσει τα αποτυπώματά της και στην ιατρική. Αν η απάντηση στο παραπάνω ερώτημα είναι «ναι», τότε θα πρέπει να θέτουμε ως προϋπόθεση στην ιατρική τέχνη την ηθική και να απαιτούμε την πραγματοποίησή της. Ο Κοραής (1748–1833), ο αποκαλούμενος «Πρύτανης του Νεοελληνικού Διαφωτισμού», υπήρξε ιατροφιλόσοφος. Κατά τη διάρκεια του Διαφωτισμού, η φιλοσοφία χαρακτηριζόταν κατεξοχήν για την πρακτική της ροπή, στο πλαίσιο της οποίας τα εγκόσμια τύχαιναν μεγάλης αποδοχής εν συγκρίσει προς τα μεταφυσικά τους θεμέλια. Έτσι, ο Κοραής διαμορφώνει μια φιλοσοφία της ιατρικής με βάση την ηθική και τον ορθολογισμό. Το ορθολογικό πεδίο συναρτάται με την επιστημονική πρόοδο και στρέφεται γύρω από τη σχέση αιτίου-αιτιατού. Η ηθική συμπεριλαμβάνει μια καθηκοντολογία (όπως η υπηρεσία προς τους φτωχούς, η άρνηση του κέρδους -με γνώμονα και την πλατωνική θέση ότι ο ιατρός «σωμάτων είναι άρχων αλλ' ου χρηματιστής»-, κ.λπ.). Επιπροσθέτως, πρέπει να τονίσουμε ότι, σύμφωνα με τον Νεοέλληνα διαφωτιστή, η «ορθή» ιατρική δεν μπορεί να νοηθεί χωρίς την ηθική. Με δεδομένο τον εκλεκτικισμό του, ο Κοραής εμπλουτίζει τις προαναφερθείσες πεποιθήσεις του με αντίστοιχες προερχόμενες από την αρχαιότητα, ενώ τις τονίζει 189 εμφατικά αντιπαραθέτοντάς τις προς ορισμένες σύγχρονές του. Ο Ιπποκράτης, κυρίως, και ο Γαληνός, καλύπτουν τα δύο πεδία της ηθικής και του ορθολογισμού και αποτελούν τις αρχαίες πηγές απ' όπου προέρχονται οι σχετικές ιατροφιλοσοφικές τοποθετήσεις. Από την άλλη πλευρά, ο Χιουμ αντικατοπτρίζει τη χαρακτηριστική σύγχρονη (της εποχής του Κοραή) πηγή, η οποία υπονομεύει τη γενικότερη επίδραση του φυσικού περιβάλλοντος πάνω στα ηθικά (και πολιτικά) ζητήματα. Μια τέτοια άποψη δεν μπορούσε να γίνει αποδεκτή από τον Νεοέλληνα διαφωτιστή, από τη στιγμή που ο Ιπποκράτης υπήρξε ο φιλοσοφικός του οδηγός ως προς τα ιατρικά ζητήματα, μία από τις βασικές αρχές του οποίου αποτελούσε η σημασία του ρόλου του περιβαλλοντικού παράγοντα στη διαμόρφωση της ηθικής καθώς και στην παθολογία. Ωστόσο, οι σύγχρονοι δεν αποβάλλονται από την κοραϊκή διανόηση. Ιατροί και ιατρικές σχολές του 18ου και του 19ου αιώνα καθίστανται εμφανείς στα κοραϊκά συγγράμματα. Σήμερα, ο εκσυγχρονισμός αυτής της φιλοσοφίας της ιατρικής θα εξακολουθούσε, μέσα και από την τεράστια πρόοδο στην ιατρική επιστήμη, να ρίχνει άπλετο φως στην υιοθέτηση μιας ανθρωπιστικής-ηθικής προστακτικής.

UDC 1 Sokrates 1 Plato M. Mantzanas Assistant Professor Advanced Academy of Theological Studies, Athens MENSCH: DER KERN DER PHILOSOPHIE BEZOGEN AUF SOKRATES, JASPERS UND NIETZSCHES ÄUSSERUNGEN IN IHREN WERKEN ABSTRACT: Socrates' beliefs, which survive in the works of his students, mark the shift of philosophy from nature to the universe and the nature of man. Socrates' philosophy, the way of his life itself, as well as his very death, all lent a new meaning to the notion of human existence. Nietzsche, on the other hand, rejects the idea of logic from the point of view of Socrates, and argues that the feeling of will is more powerful than cognition, senses and emotions (will to power). Nietzsche believed that life itself was will to power and projected the image of man as a human being seeking to reach the higher mode of being, defined as the "super-human" person. Finally, he also viewed knowledge and morality as great sources of power. Jaspers, a great existentialist, in an effort to illuminate the totality of man's existence, philosophizes on man and elabo- rates on conceptions related to the potential and limitations of human beings. He presents a view according to which man exists by struggling to achieve self- -definition within the shelter of society, as well freely, in the loneliness of the empirical self. Therefore, the individual exists by realizing its freedom of be- ing in the world, by acquiring self-awareness and by being the centre of reality itself. KEY WORDS: Mensch, Sinn, Bedeutung, Gedanken, Kunst, Zauberei, Religion, Tod. Bis zum Sokrates1 war die griechische Philosophie vor allem natu- ralistisch und bezweckte auf die philosophische Behandlung der äusseren Welt, aber nicht des Menschen: "Aus dem  γνῶθι σαυτόν  und dem 1 Vlastos, 1991: 20–160 und Guthrie, 1971: 126–129. 192 sokratischen Nichtwissen entwickelt sich ein ganzer Kreis von Phi- losophemen."2 Mit Sokrates spielt jedoch der Mensch die grösste Rolle in dem philosophischen Gedanken und so haben wir die anthropozent- ristische Philosophie. Diese Wende des philosophischen Gedanken trug zu der Betonung der verschiedenen Elemente der menschlichen Persön- lichkeit bei. Diese Elemente sind durch Sokrates und die späteren Phi- losophen von grosser Bedeutung unter den verschiedenen Philosophen gewesen. Philosophie ist für Sokrates Existenzphilosophie. Das Nicht- wissen ist die Unbekanntheit der Glückseligkeit.3 "Sokrates hat gesagt, dass Selbsterkenntnis, sachliches Wissen und Lebensweisheit als ein Wis- sen um das Gute gehören innig zusammen als verschiedene Seiten des einen menschlichen Bewusstseins."4 Das Problem der Beziehung des Menschen mit der Philosophie gibt es auch in Sokrates, wie wir durch die über ihn Informationen in den Werken Platons und Xenophons feststellen können. Jedoch gibt es über dieses Thema keine deutliche Lehre von Sokrates. Aus seinen Worten in den Werken seiner Schüler können wir folgern, dass durch Sokrates die Philosophie und das philosophische Bewusstsein ein innerer Treib, eine Stimme des Gottes ist, die ihm diktiert, was er tun muss5. Sokrates nennt diese innere Stimme "δαιμόνιον ἤ θεῖόν τι"6. Dieses δαιμόνιον oder Gottes Zeichen7 ermuntert Sokrates zur Ausführung des Richtigen und des Guten und rät ihm von dem Nachteiligen und dem Falschen ab. Diese Stimme besteht in Sokrates seit seiner Kindheit und deshalb können wir akzeptieren, dass sie angeboren ist. Das heisst, dass die Phi- losophie zur Selbsterkenntnis beiträgt8: "In dem Wesen des Sokrates waren nun die göttliche und menschlichen Elemente so harmonisch ge- mischt, dass schon seine Naturanlage ihn zum Erzieher bestimmt zu haben schent."9 Aus einem Abschnitt Platons in dem die innere Stimme Sokrates vom Teilnehmen an dem politischen Leben abrät, folgern einige, dass diese Stimme beschränkte Wirkung hatte und nicht als Bewusstsein wirkte. Das wird als unbegründet kritisiert, weil in anderen Abschnitten Platons die abschätzende Klangfarbe der Stimme oder des δαιμόνιον oder der Macht der Philosophie bezeugt wird10. Sokrates hat gesagt dass, man seinen Dämon und seine Visionen haben. Die Fragen des Sokrates 2 Böhm, 1929: 11. 3 Richtscheid, 1969: 149–155. 4 Waldenfels, 1961: 23. 5 Plato Apologie 21b und Vlastos, 1982: 711–714. 6 Apologie 31c-d und Scaltsas, 1989: 129–150. 7 Apologie 40 a-b und Steiris, 2010: 13–21. 8 Apologie 31c-d und Vlastos, 1971: 1–21. 9 Busse, 1914: 117. 10 Charmides 167 a-b. 193 sind stark und was er sucht, sind die allgemeinen Grundlagen der Ge- sellschaft.11 Die Philosophie von Sokrates versichert die Wert der mensch- lichen Existenz als ein abschätzendes Prinzip, das seit der Kindheit auch in Xenophon zu finden ist. Xenophon glaubt, dass die Athener καλές κἀγαθές (gute, richtige und mutige) Taten von klein an begingen. Durch Sokrates wird der Kern der Philosophie reicher, weil sie deutlich eine moralische Nuance erwerbt. Die moralische Philosophie, die Sokrates einführte, wirkte sehr auf Sokrates Lehre der Existenzen. Von der kosmo- logischen Theorie der Vorsokratiken geht Sokrates zu der anthropolo- gischen Theorie, weil diese Theorie sich darauf bezieht, das das göttliche Teil im Menschen zu finden ist, nämlich in seiner Seele. Aber dieses Prinzip ist mit der totalen Persönlichkeit des Menschen verbunden und wächst und vergrössert sich gleichzeitig mit ihr. Die Bildung und die Erziehung führen zur Integrierung der festen Wende der Persönlichkeit zum richtigen Urteil. Also hält Sokrates die Bildung des Menschen für das einzelne Mittel zur Erschaffung der menschlichen Persönlichkeit und des perfekten Bürgers, der harmonisch mit sich selbst, mit dem Staat und mit dem Gott lebt12. Wie Kuhn gesagt hat, "Zusammenfassend ergibt sich, dass die Selbst- erkenntnis den von uns herausgearbeiteten Sinn des sokratischen Tugend- wissens als eines Projektes bestätigt und bereichert. Das sokratische Wissensprojekt ergab sich in der Ausdehnung des Wissens in der Techne über die Breite des Lebens überhaupt. Wenn, wie wir anfänglich annah- men, so heisst es hier, der Besonnene wüsste, was er weiss und was er nicht weiss, das eine, dass er weisst und das andere, dass er es nicht weiss, und er wüsste auch einen anderen, wie es eben hierin mit ihm steht, zu be- urteilen: dann wäre es uns, das können wir behaupten, höchst nützlich, besonnen zu sein. Denn fehlerfrei würden wir selbst unser Leben durch- führen im Besitz der Besonnenheit, und auch alle übringen, soviel ihrer von uns regiert würden. Denn weder würden wir selbst etwas zu tun unternehmen, was wir nicht verständen, sondern diejenigen ausfindend, weiche es verstehen, würden wir es ihnen überlassen, noch auch würden wir den übrigen, welche wir regierten, verstatten, irgend etwas anders zu tun als das, was sie, wenn sie es tun, auch richtig tun werden. Dies wäre aber das, wovon sie Erkenntnis haben. Und so würde ein durch Besonnenheit verwaltetes Hauswesen wohl verwaltet werden und eine so regierte Stadt und alles andere, worüber Besonnenheit herrschte."13 Für die sokratische Fragen Kuhn hat gesagt: "Sokrates, der Elenk- tiker, dem das Fragen und Nichtwissen eine konkrete Weise des Tuns und Lebens wurde, ist darum nicht identisch mit dem Künstler jener 11 Böhm, 1929: 11–17. 12 Apologie 40 a-b und Vlastos, 1985: 1–31. 13 Kuhn, 1959: 60. 194 Lebenskunst, auf die sein Wissensprojekt zielte. Die Transzendenz des Tugendwissens, aus der das Fragen in das leere Nichtwissen zurück- sinkt, erhält sich in dem konkret gewordenen Nichtwissen als die unend- liche Differenz, die das Gute zwar als das andere, nicht aber als solches erkennen lässt und die im Dauern des echten Nichtwissens und der echten Aporie das das gesuchte Wissen-Können durch ein gekonntes und gesüsstes Suchen ersetzt."14 Maier bleibt: "Sokrates selbst hat in seinen Gesprächen nur die eine Aufgabe vor Augen gehabt, die Mitun- terredner zu sittlichen Menschen zu machen. Und das nächste Ziel seiner Dialektik war, wie im Laches ausdrücklich erklärt ist, immer und überall, die Menschen zur Selbsteinkehr zu zwingen."15 Die sokratische Dialektik ist die logische Architektonik des Weltbildes. Von der Art, wie Sokrates die Dichter für seine Protreptik ausnützte, wir uns auf diese Weise am Ende doch ein ziemlich deutliches Bild zu machen.16 Auch, Maier punkte: "Sokrates hat die Dialektik, die er betrieb, schwerlich als eine Kunst, als eine technische Methode, und ganz gewiss nicht als ein logisches Verfahren, irgend welche Wahrheiten zu suchen, betrachtet. Seine Unterredungen waren zwanglose Gespräche, deren Wirkung durch- aus auf seinem persönlichen Geschick, seinem pädagogischen Takt und seiner Menschenkenntnis beruhte."17 Die Ironie ist ein wesentliches Mittel von Sokrates  sittlicher Dialektik. Aber die Ironie ist eine Art. Sokrates immer  weiss nicht!18 Sokrates glaubt an das Bessere. Er glaubt, dass man einen Vorteil davon hat, sich als vernünftig zu erkennen und sich als Vernunftwesen zu betragen.19 Auch, Richtscheid stellt: "Das Verständnis des vorliegenden Bandes erfordert nicht, dass man auch die Gespräche mit Sokrates schon kennt, obgleich er dort in Lebensfülle in Erscheinung tritt."20 Das sokratische Gespräch hat den Streit zur Vor- aussetzung, und es ist selbst eine Umformung des Streites. Sokrates weiss was er weiss und was er weiss nicht. Er hat Selbsterkenntnis und er ist einen Lehrer für die Philosophie.21 PHILOSOPHIE: SINN UND BEDEUTUNG Was ist eigentlich Philosophie? Eine Frage, die uns alle beschäftigt. Diese hat viele Gestalten und ist zu allen Zeiten und in allen Lebensaltern 14 Kuhn, 1959: 144. 15 Maier, 1964: 359. 16 Busse, 1914: 150–155. 17 Maier, 1964: 361. 18 Guthrie, 1971: 3–8. 19 Nelson, 1965: 31– 48. 20 Richtscheid, 1969: 13 und Seeskin, 1987: 65–78. 21 Steinthal, 1885: 2–15 195 anwesend. Ob sie aber was wert sei, ist umstritten. Es gibt entgegen- gesetzte Beurteilungen, weil manche sie als gegenstandsloses Denken charakterisieren und andere sie für eine Sache halten, die jeden betrifft, deshalb auch von jedem verständlich sein und einfach ausgedrückt werden muss. Während in der Wissenschaft allgemein anerkannte Erkenntnisse gelten, sind in der Philosophie keine solche Ergebnisse erreicht worden. In der Philosophie handelt es sich um „das Ganze des Seins." Die eigene Erfahrung jedes Menschen ist eine genügende Voraussetzung, um dabei zu sein und anreden zu können. Das Suchen der Wahrheit, nicht der Besitz der Wahrheit ist das Wesen der Philosophie und jede Antwort zu ihren Fragen führt zu einer neuen Frage. In der Philosophie wird die Wirklichkeit im Ursprung erblickt. Plato sagte, der Ursprung der Philosophie sei das Erstaunen. Dieses Erstaunen hat uns den Trieb zur Untersuchung des Alls gegeben. Und Aristoteles: „Denn die Verwun- derung ist es, was die Menschen zum Philosophieren trieb: sie wunderten sich zuerst über das ihnen aufstossende Befremdliche, gingen dann all- mählich weiter und fragten nach den Wandlungen des Monds, der Sonne, der Gestirne und der Entstehung des Alls." „Sich wundern drängt zur Erkenntnis – Im Wundern werde ich mir des Nichtwissens bewusst." Das Philosophieren ist wie ein Erwachen aus der Gebundenheit an die Lebensnotdurft. Die Antwort auf die Fragen: was das alles und woher das alles sei, dient keinem Nutzen, sondern gewährt nur an sich Befrie- digung. Nach dieser Befriedigung erweckt sich dann der Zweifel. Überall stehen Behauptungen gegen Behauptungen. Der Zweifel führt zu der kritischen Prüfung jeder Erkenntnis und der klaren Gewissheit. Der Mensch wird durch das Bewusstsein seiner Verlorenheit erschüttert und stellt die Frage nach sich selbst, wie er sich in seiner Ohnmacht helfen kann. Der Mensch sucht Erlösung. Das Philosophieren ist analog dieser Erlösung. SEIN – GEDANKEN – HANDELN – GEFÜHLE Pflanze und Tier leben im unbewussten Dasein, ohne Endzweck. Nur der Mensch handelt. Er handelt bewusst für sein augenblickliches Wohl. Das Zeichen, dass das Tier Mensch geworden ist, ist, dass sich der Zweck seines Handelns geändert hat. Es hat eine Dauer und kein augeblickliches persönliches Wohlbefinden. Ausserdem wird es von Nütz- lichkeit und Zweckmässigkeit kennzeichnet. Der allgemeine Nutzen wird sich dadurch der Sinn der Vernunft. Eine noch höhere Stufe wird erreicht, wenn er nach dem Prinzip der Ehre lebt und handelt, was ihn zu einem Kollektiv – Individuum verwandelt. Der Mensch quält sich 196 jahrelang mit denselben Fragen: Jaspers22 drückt sie zusammenfassend folgendermassen aus: „Woher kommen wir Menschen? Was ist der gegen- wärtige Sinn, was ist das Ziel unseres Lebens, des Einzelnen, der Völker, der Menschheit? Welches sind unsere Möglichkeiten und unsere Gren- zen? Was sind wir eigentlich? Welche ist unsere Stellung in der Welt? Was ist unsere jeweils bestimmte Aufgabe?" Auch wurde die Frage fort- geschoben:" lasst uns nicht denken, es führt zu nichts! Aber sie lässt sich nicht zum Schweigen bringen."23 Ein langes Herumziehen, Suchen und Wechseln bestimmt das Le- ben des Menschen. Das menschliche Leben ist wie eine Wüste, in der jene glänzende Lufterscheinungen plötzlich auftreten, die man wohl mit den "philosophischen Systemen" parallelisieren kann. Der Mensch sucht in ihrer zauberischen Täuschungskraft die Lösung seiner Probleme, die Quelle des frischen Lebenswassers, das in der Nähe zu sein, erscheint. Der Ermüdete drängt, wie von einer heimlichen Kraft getrieben, immer vorwärts bis er das Ziel mühevoll erreicht. Andere werden von der schö- nen Täuschung bezaubert und bleiben stehen: sie werden leider von der Wüste verschlungen. Sie sind für die Wissenschaft nicht wert. Es gibt noch eine andere Kategorie von Menschen, in denen Mund die zauberhaften Erscheinungen einen Salzgeschmack hinterlassen ha- ben. Der entstandene Durst ist jetzt grösser, aber trotzdem wagen sie es nicht einen Schritt vorwärts zu kommen und irgendeine Quelle, die in der Nähe steht, zu erreichen. Man könnte berühmten Malern die Auf- gabe erteilen, das mysteriöse Bild vom Leben des Menschen darzustel- len und berühmten Dichtern und Philosophen das Geheimnisvolle vom Menschenleben zu entlarven. Das wäre ein grosser Unsinn gewesen, weil jeder berühmte Künstler seinen persönlichen Einstellungen vom Leben darstellen würde und das ist auch selbstverständlich. Das Leben als ein Ganzes Allgemeines kann niemand erfassen, weil „im Werden- den sich ein Werdendes nicht als fest und dauernd, nicht als ein „Das" spiegeln kann."24 Wie schön und wahr sich hier Nietzsche ausdrückt! Durch die Entwicklung der Menschheit hat sich herausgegeben, dass die Wahrheit zart und leidend ist. „Dies drückt auch Byron in un- sterblichen Versen aus: Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the most much mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth, the tree of knowledge is 22 Kirkbright, 2004: 12–56 und O'Connor, 1988: 65–78 und Olson, 1979: 45–86 und Peach, 2008: 34–56 und Samay, 1971: 38–78 und Schilpp, 1957: 78–95 und Thornhill, 2002: 98–120 und Walraff, 1970: 112–125 und Walters, 1988: 56–88 und Young-Bruehl, 1981: 34–68. 23 Jaspers, 2000: 224 und Ehrlich, 1975: 22–54 und Ehrlich – Wisser, 1988: 56–78 und Olson, 1993: 54–68. 24 Nietzsche, 1988: 387 und Acampora, 2006: 56–78 und Allison, 1985: 88–98 und Bloom, 1987: 112–134 und Burgard, 1994: 23–45 und Gemes-Simon, 2009: 128–149 und Golomb, 1997: 98–182. 197 not that of life."25 An der Wahrheit kann man oft sogar verbluten, des- halb braucht man auch verschiedene Trostmittel, um „geheilt" zu werden. Das heisst natürlich nicht, dass eine tödliche Wahrheit zum Tod selbst führen kann. Es gibt zu viele „Gegengifte". Gefährliche Feinde der Wahrheit sind Überzeugungen, die die Rolle einer Lüge spielen können. Alle Idealisten meinen, dass ihre Überzeugungen einem höheren Ziel dienen und wesentlich besser, als die der Anderen sind. Nietzsches Worte über die Idealisten sind sehr wahr und weise" „... (sie) wollen nicht glauben, dass, wenn ihre Sache überhaupt gedeihen soll, sie genau des- selben übelriechenden Düngers bedarf, welchen alle anderen menschli- chen Unternehmungen nötig haben."26 Wenn man an die eine, die echte Wahrheit glauben will, dann muss man alle bis dahin geglaubten „Wahr- heiten" verzweifeln, was natürlich überhaupt nicht leicht ist. Im Gegen- teil: nichts wird jemandem schwerer, als eine Sache unpersönlich zu fassen. In jeder Sache muss man nämlich keine Person sehen, sondern nur die Sache selbst. Es wird immer einen ständigen heimlichen Kampf mit Gedanken – Personen (Gedanken–Kinderzucht, Gedanken–Armen– und Krankenpflege) geben, in dem der Mensch das Wahre dem Un- wahren vorzieht. Warum? „Weil das Wahre – wie auch das Billige und Gerechte – nützlicher und ehrebringender als das Unwahre ist."27 Nietzsche ist grundsätzlich wider die Phantasten, die sich von den Lügnern darin unterscheiden, dass sie die Wahrheit vor sich selbst verleugnen, wo die Lügner sie nur vor den Anderen verheimlichen. Eine Frage, die wir uns alle stellen können, ist, warum die Menschen in ihrer Mehrzahl im Alltag die Wahrheit sagen: Gewiss nicht, weil ein Gott das Lügen verboten hat. Nach Nietzsche aus zwei Gründen: ers- tens, weil es bequemer ist und zweitens, weil der Weg des Zwangs und der Autorität sicherer ist, als der der List. Bequemer ist nämlich die Wahr- heit, weil derjenige, der eine Lüge berichtet, eine sehr schwere Last übernimmt, ohne es zu merken. Denn er muss um diese Lüge zu be- haupten noch 20 andere erfinden. Hauptsache also ist, dass der Mensch den Mut haben muss, seine Meinungen frei zu äussern. Nietzsche meint: „Man soll nur reden, wo man nicht schweigen darf; und nur davon reden, was man überwunden hat."28 Meinungen, die aus den Leidenschaften wachsen, erstarren zu Überzeugungen, weil der Geist zu träge ist, sie 25 Nietzsche, 1988: 108 und Golomb-Wistrich, 2002: 65–98 und Janaway, 1998: 129–146 und Salim-Gaskell-Conway, 1998: 132–187 und Leiter-Sinhababu, 2009: 45–95. 26 Nietzsche, 1988: 318 und Diethe, 2007: 34–88 und Kelly-Pearsall, 1998: 68–112 und Koelb, 1990: 59–90 und Magnus-Higgins, 1996: 124–148 und Parkes, 1991: 145–167. 27 Nietzsche, 1988: 390 und Richardson-Leiter, 2001: 158–165 und Rosenthal, 1994: 112–158 und Sedgwick, 1995: 88–115 und Schacht, 1994: 125–155. 28 Nietzsche, 1988: 369 und Scott-Franklin Todd, 2007: 56–120 und Solomon-Higgins, 1988: 65–98. 198 zu bearbeiten. Der Wechsel von Überzeugungen ist schmerzhaft. Sind sie eigentlich bei einem Wechsel notwending oder werden sie überschätzt? Prüfen wir mal, wie diese Überzeugungen entstehen. Dabei wird sich ergeben, dass der Wechsel von Überzeugungen unter allen Umständen nach falschem Masse bemessen wird, was also zu dem Entschluss führt, dass wir bisher zuviel an diesem Wechsel zu leiden pflegten. Im Grunde genommen verändert niemand seine Meinungen, so lange sie ihm vorteilhaft sind, oder weningstens so lange sie ihm keinen Scha- den bringen. Das bedeutet aber leider ein schlimmes Zeugnis über den intellektuellen Sinn aller Überzeugungen. Die erste Meinung, welche uns einfällt, wenn wir plötzlich über eine Sache befragt werden, ist ge- wöhnlich nicht unsere eigene, sondern nur die unserer Kaste. Die eige- nen Meinungen schwimmen selten oben auf. Das Gefährliche an freien Meinungen ist es, dass, „das leichte Befassen mit freien Meinungen einen Reiz gibt, wie eine Art Jucken; gibt man ihm mehr nach, so fängt man an, die Stellen zu reiben, bis zuletzt eine offene schmerzende Wunde entsteht, das heisst: bis die freie Meinung uns in unserer Lebensstellung, unseren menschlichen Beziehungen zu stören, zu quälen beginnt."29 Die Geschichte hat durch das Spiel der verschiedenen Meinungen grosse Gewalttätigkeit erkannt. Aber es ist nicht der Kampf der Meinun- gen, sondern der Kampf des Glaubens an die Meinungen, nämlich der Überzeugungen, der diese Gewalttat verursacht hat. Zuletzt ist es kein Zufall, dass wir Menschen so gern in der freien Natur sind. Wir fühlen uns wohl, weil sie über uns keine Meinung hat. Wir sind nämlich ein Teil der Natur. Die Natur ist eng mit unserer „Existenz" verbunden. „«Existenz» ist nicht das So – Sein, sondern das Sein – Können und nicht Gegeben – Sein, sondern Möglichkeit. «Existenz» ist also der Kern aller erfüllten Möglichkeiten."30 Die «Existenz» wird von der Verantwor- tung unterdrückt. Jaspers leugnet den dunklen Anspruch der Wirklich- keit an ihn als mögliche Existenz und nach ihm kann die Freiheit auf keine Weise objektiv gedacht werden, deshalb kann sie auch nicht erkannt werden. Nach Jaspers ist das Dasein, ein Sein in Situationen, deshalb tritt man ständig von der einen Situation in die andere, d.h. dass man nie- mals aus dem Situationszustand heraus kann. Situationen können sich ständig verwandelt werden, einen sicheren Halt gibt es in ihnen nicht. Das bedeutet auch Situation, nämlich ein dauerndes sich Verändern. Nur die Grenzsituationen wandeln sich nicht, weil sie auf unser Dasein 29 Nietzsche, 1988: 344 und Solomon, 1973: 24–98 und Stauffer-Bergo, 2008: 125–135 und Yovel, 1986: 67–98. 30 Jaspers, 2000: 173 und Allison, 2000: 34–88 und Aschheim, 1992: 45–98 und Babich, 1994: 78–125. 199 bezogen sind. Grenze drückt aus: es gibt ein anderes. Die Grenzsituation gehört zur Existenz. Sie ist wie eine Wand, an die wir stossen. Darin zeigt sich die Zebrochenheit des Seins. Die Grenzsituation ist eine Situation wie die, dass man nicht ohne Kampf und ohne Leid leben kann, dass man unvermeidlich Schuld auf sich nimmt, dass man sterben muss. Die bessere Begründung für eine Tat kann durch den Erfolg ersetzt werden, denn die Motive und Absichten sind selten deutlich, so dass man seiner Tat selber falsche Motive unterschiebt oder die unwesentlichen Motive als wesentliche behandelt. Das Moralische oder Unmoralische einer Tat wird von den Zuschauern nach dem Erfolg an der Tat selbst bemessen. Der Erfolg ist es, der eine Tat einen Glanz gibt und parallel das gute Gewissen erweckt. Ein Misserfolg führt zu Gewissensbissen sogar auch über die achtungswürdigste Handlung. Die Tat wird auch oft vom Wissen gelenkt. Nach Nietzsche bringt das Halbwissen ein grösseres Vergnügen als das Ganzwissen, weil der Halbwissende die Dinge einfacher kennt, als sie sind und dadurch sich fasslicher und überzeugender ausdrückt und handelt. Parallel zum Han- deln laufen auch jemandes Dienste. Dienstleistungen müssen wir nicht nach dem Wert, den sie für uns haben, abschätzen, sondern nach dem Wert, den einer darauf legt. Dabei bringt die Jugend natürlich einen Nachteil mit sich: es ist nämlich nicht vernünftig für die Jugend, in irgendeinem Sinne produktiv zu sein. Die Produktivität im Geist und Körper kommt erst später mit dem Alter. Dazu spielt auch der Beruf eine grosse Rolle, denn ein Beruf ist das Rückgrat des Lebens. Sein Wert ist sehr gross: ausser der Erfahrung, die einen reifer macht, ist er auch eine Schutzwehr für den Menschen. Der Mensch zieht sich hinter diese Schutzwehr zurück, wenn ihn Bedenken und Sorgen allgemeiner Art anfallen, denn Beruf macht gedankenlos. Die Probleme werden dadurch vernünftiger im Kopf bearbeitet und gelöst. Nach Nietzsche geschieht beim Menschen etwas Seltsames. Er glaubt, dass der Geist in die Form des Körpers versetzt werden kann. Derjenige, der viel und klug denkt auch sein Körper ein kluges Aussehen bekommt. Eine begabte Natur muss durch alle Ebenen des Lebens hindurch. Man muss die positive Energie einer Freundschaft erleben, als auch der negativen Gefühle der Verachtung gegenüber gestellt werden. Alle ver- ehren die Freundschaft. Wie schwer ist es aber einen echten Freund zu finden! Wie leicht ist es zu merken, dass Mitfreude und nicht Mitleiden den echten Freund macht. Dieser Wert der Freundschaft wird manch- mal durch Ansichten zerstört, die man zu äussern wagt, die beleidigend für den gelten, der sie hegt. Das ist aber ein neuer Schritt zum Selbststän- digwerden, deshalb muss auch eine begabte Natur auch durch dieses Feuer der Verachtung hindurch. Leider kann der Mensch manchmal sehr gemein werden. „Wenn der Mensch vor Lachen wiehert, übertrifft er alle 200 Tiere durch seine Gemeinheit."31 Der Mensch kann zu dieser Gemein- heit geführt werden, weil das Gefühl der Gerechtigkeit in ihm sehr stark gewachsen ist. Die Rache, die ein gemeines Verhalten erregen kann, gehört ursprünglich in den Bereich der Gerechtigkeit. Die Gerechtig- keit ist nämlich Vergeltung und Austausch unter der Voraussetzung einer ungefähr gleichen Machtstellung. Dieser Austausch ist nicht immer ne- gativ. Er kann ebensogut positiv aufgenommen werden und das Gefühl der Dankbarkeit anstatt des der Rache erregen. Wer das Handeln seiner Mitmenschen kontrollieren will, kann er ihre Seele durch „den Zorn" spionieren. Man kann andere Menschen in Versuchung setzen, in dem man sie in Zorn versetzt, weil der Zorn die Seele ausschöpft und selbst ihren Boden ans Licht bringt. So kann man eine Menge über seine Umgebung erfahren, sowohl über seine Anhänger, als auch über seine Gegner, nämlich, was im Grunde alles wider uns gedacht wird. Ein anderes Gefühl ausser der Gerechtigkeit, das beim Handeln auch eine wichtige Rolle spielt, ist die Gewissenhaftigkeit. Der gewis- senhafte Mensch schätzt alle Faktoren ganz genau bevor er handelt. Manchmal aber übertreibt er so, dass ein Handeln zu spät kommt, im Ge- gensatz zum fleissigen Menschen, der wegen seines Fleisses schneller als er muss, handelt. „Fleiss und Gewissenhaftigkeit sind oftmals dadurch Antagonisten, dass Fleiss die Früchte sauer vom Baume nehmen will, die Gewissenhaftigkeit sie aber zu lange hängen lässt, bis sie herabfallen und sich zerschlagen."32 Das bedingte Handeln ist ein Tun des Menschen, das von der Lebenskraft, die durch die Interessen des Lebens erweckt wird, gelenkt wird. Beim Handeln darf nicht das dunkle Abweisen existentieller Möglichkeit als Schuld verstanden werden. Man sieht Leuten zu, die mit ihren Erlebnissen umzugehen wissen und deshalb ein stabiles Leben führen, das Frucht trägt, während Andere durch den Schlag des Schicksals hindurchgetrieben werden und doch immer leicht, immer obenauf wie Kork bleiben. Man kann also die Welt in zweierlei Men- schen teilen: in eine Minorität Solcher, welche aus Wenigem Viel zu machen verstehen und in eine Majorität Derer, welche aus Vielem wenig zu machen verstehen. Es gibt Leute, welche wie von einem Zauberer verhext, anstatt die Welt aus Nichts, aus der Welt ein Nichts schaffen. Man kann die Menschen nicht nur nach ihrem Handeln, sondern auch nach ihrer Vernunft in zwei Gruppen teilen. Man kann die Vernunft im Bezug auf das Alter mit einem Ton vergleichen. Dieser Ton klingt anders, wenn man jung ist und anders, wenn man älter wird. Wie schön hat Nietzsche diesen Klang beschrieben: „Der Ton, in dem Jünglinge reden, loben, tadeln, dichten, missfällt dem Ältergewor- 31 Nietzsche, 1988: 330 und Bataille, 1992: 78–114 und Clark, 1990: 56–88 und Danto, 1965: 57–79. 32 Nietzsche, 1988: 331 und Deleuze, 1983: 85–128 und Derrida, 1979: 56–90. 201 denen, weil er zu laut ist und zwar zugleich dumpf und undeutlich wie der Ton in einem Gewölbe, der durch die Leerheit eine solche Schall- kraft bekommt; denn das Meiste, was Jünglinge denken, ist nicht aus der Fülle ihrer eigenen Natur herausgeströmt, sondern ist Anklang, Nachklang von dem, was in ihrer Nähe gedacht, geredet, gelobt, getadelt worden ist. Der Ton des reiferen Alters ist streng, kurz abgebrochen, mässig laut, aber, wie alles deutlich Artikulierte, sehr weit tragend. Das Alter endlich bringt häufig eine gewisse Milde und Nachsicht in den Klang."33 Ausser der Vernunft, die mit dem Alter zuwächst, wächst auch die Schlauheit mit dem Alter zu und diese Schlauheit muss man positiv ausnutzen. Man muss nicht negativ denken. Es gibt Menschen, die viel Freude haben und die ihre Mitmenschen immer positiv behandeln, weil sie selber gute Menschen sind. Vielleicht sind sie nicht die Klügsten, aber sie können gerade das erreichen, was die Klügsten mit aller ihrer Klugheit erstreben und auch manchmal nicht erwerben. KUNST UND LIEBE Älter als die Sprache ist das Nachahmen von Gebärden, welches unwillkürlich vor sich geht. Im Allgemeinen werden schmerzhafte Emp- findungen wohl auch durch Gebärden ausgedrückt, welche ihrerseits auch Schmerz verursachen: (z.B. Haarausraufen, Brustschlagen, Anspan- nungen der Gesichtsmuskeln usw.) Mit der Zeit hat sich die Sprache entwickelt und mit ihr auch die Kunst. Die Liebe, die Bewunderung der Schönheit, die Furcht, das Mitleid sind nicht Bedürfnisse bestimmter Organe, welche erleichtert werden wollen wie andere Bedürfnisse des Menschen, die nach ihrer Befriedigung eine Linderung eintritt und der Trieb herabgestimmt wird. Es sind Gefühle, die ausgedrückt werden müssen, entweder durch die Sprache der Poesie oder durch die Musik oder durch die Baukunst oder durch irgendeine andere Kunst. Bei der Musik hat der Intellekt die Bedeutsamkeit der Stärke und Schwäche des Tones in den Klang hineingelegt, wie er in die Verhält- nisse von Linien und Massen bei der Architektur obenfalls Bedeutsam- keit gelegt hat. Das alles gilt als unmittelbare Sprache des Gefühls, die direkt zum Inneren spricht und aus dem Inneren kommt. An einem griechischen oder christlichen Gebäude bedeutete ursprünglich Alles Etwas, und zwar in Hinsicht auf eine höhere Ordnung der Dinge. Obwohl die Schönheit eines Gebäudes etwas Maskenhaftes war, wie das schöne Gesicht einer geistlosen Frau, hatte trotzdem eine grosse Bedeutung, sie 33 Nietzsche, 1988: 347 und Heidegger, 1979, 1982, 1984, 1986 und Hayman, 1980: 118–128. 202 milderte höchstens das Grauen. Eins muss der Mensch unbedingt haben: „Entweder einen von Natur leichten Sinn oder einen durch Kunst und Wissen erleichterten Sinn."34 Die Lehre der Kunst lautet: „Wie es auch sei das Leben, es ist gut." Diese Lehre ehrt die Lust am Dasein und stellt das Menschenleben wie ein Stück Natur und nicht als Gegenstand gesetzmässiger Entwicklung. Nitzsche meint: „Die bildende Kunst und die Musik sind der Massstab, der durch die Religion wirklich erworbenen und hinzugewonnenen Gefühls – Reichthumes ist. Der wissenschaftliche Mensch ist die Weiterentwicklung des künstlerischen."35 Man muss lieben, gütig sein lernen und dies von Jugend auf; wenn Erziehung und Zufall uns keine Gelegenheit zur Übung dieser Empfin- dungen geben, so wird unsere Seele trocken. Manche Leute können dieses grossartige Gefühl der Liebe nicht erleben. Sie können sich sogar keine Freundschaft leisten. Der Mangel an Freunden lässt auf Neid oder Anmassung schliessen. Diejenigen, die gute Freunde haben, verdanken es dem glücklichen Umstande, dass sie keinen Anlass zum Neide haben. Es ist sehr schwer einen richtigen Freund zu finden und ihm zu vertrauen. Leider haben wir Menschen die Tendenz, jemanden, der uns einen unangenehmen Satz hinstellt, schärfer zu kritisieren. Vernünftiger wäre es doch dies zu tun, wenn jemandes Worte uns angenehm wären. Die Liebe erkennt keine Macht an. Sie trennt nicht, hebt nicht ab, ordnet nicht über oder unter. Die Liebe begehrt nur, deshalb kann man nicht zugleich von derselben Person wenigstens in demselben Zeitraum geliebt und geehrt werden. Der Ehrende erkennt die Macht des Anderen an, das heisst, er fürchtet sie und die Furcht meidet. Die Forderung, geliebt zu werden, ist nach Nietzsche die grösste der Anmassungen. Der Liebe gegenüber steht der Hass. „Liebe und Hass sind nicht blind, aber geblendet vom Feuer, das sie selber mit sich tragen."36 Der Hass muss ebenso wie die Liebe gelernt und genährt werden, sonst wird auch der Kein allmählich absterben. Wie grausam klingt aber uns allen dieses, zerstörerische Gefühl von Hass! Es führt zu unangenehmen Handlungen. Ist es nicht lieber das herrliche Gefühl des Glücks in un- serer Seele anzubauen und es auch manchmal durch blossen Unsinn aus- zudrücken, anstatt uns mit negativen Gedanken zu befassen? Am Unsinn gibt es Freude, die uns momentan von dem Zwange des Notwendigen befreit. 34 Nietzsche, 1988: 317 und Higgins, 1987: 78–98 und Hunt, 1991: 75–124 und Irigaray, 1991: 12–56. 35 Nietzsche, 1988: 185 und Jung, 1988: 125–156 und Klossowski, 1993: 68–98 und Kofman, 1993: 45–89 Löwith, 1997: 59–119 und Macintyre, 1992: 25–150. 36 Nietzsche, 1988: 333 und Magnus, 1993: 156–195 und Magnus, 1978: 24–98 und Mandel, 1998: 34–88 und Nehamas, 1985: 45–78 und Oliver, 1995: 116–198. 203 In der Liebe ist Einmaligkeit. In der Liebe ist das absolute Vertau- en. Die Liebe ist unendlich. In der Liebe ist Aufschwung, gegenwärtige Befriedigung. In der Liebe ist Bewegung und Ruhe. In der Liebe ist Auf- stieg und Besserwerden. Liebe muss nicht als Besitz gesehen werden, mit dem ich rechnen kann. Man muss mit sich selbst und dem Gelieb- ten kämpfen, aber ohne Gewalt. Man muss bloss in Frage stellen und in Frage gestellt werden. Man muss, wenn möglich, der Gedankenweise weiser Leute zu folgen, denn sie haben schon den Weg zum Glück ge- funden. Nietzsches einmalige Worte über weise Leute, die nie über sich selbst sprechen, weil sie bescheiden sind, lautet: „Die Flamme ist sich sel- ber nicht so hell, als den Anderen, denen sie leuchtet: so auch der Weise."37 Wie viele Leute handeln aber im Alltag, als ob sie Weise wären? Leider fast niemand, weil dieser Weg, der Weg der Wenigen ist. ZAUBEREI – RELIGION – DASEIN – LEIDENSCHAFT – TOD Versetzen wir uns in die Zeiten zurück, in welchen das religiöse Leben am meisten aufblühte, so stellen wir fest, dass alles sich um die Natur und den Verkehr mit ihr umdreht. Von Naturgesetzen ist natürlich auf keinen Fall die Rede, weder von der Erde noch von dem Himmel. Alle Erkrankungen, der Tod selbst Resultat magischer Einwirkungen war. Für das Individuum war die Natur etwas Unbegreifbares, Schreck- liches, Geheimnisvolles. Sie war das Reich der höheren Macht, das Über- menschliche, sie erschien als Gott. Die ganze Vorstellung vom „natürli- chen Hergang" fehlte. Der Mensch wollte diese Mächte durch Gesetze beherrschen. Dieses Nachdenken führt zum religiösen Cultus. Sein Sinn ist, die Natur zu bannen und ihre Gesetze einzuprägen, die sie von vornherein nicht hat. Durch Flehen und Gebete, durch Unterwerfung, durch die Verpflichtung zu regelmässigen Abgaben und Geschenken ist es möglich auf die Mächte der Natur einen Zwang auszuüben. Der ge- waltsamere Zwang aber kommt durch Magie und Zauberei. Alles, was einen Leib hat, ist der Zauberei zugänglich also auch die Naturgeister. Wie der Mensch mit Hilfe des Zauberers einem stärkeren Feind zu schaden versucht, so glaubt auch der schwächere Mensch die mächtige- ren Geister der Natur bestimmen zu können. Zu allem Geistigen gehört etwas Körperliches. Mit Hilfe des Körperlichen (Haare, Nägel, Bilder usw) vermag man den Geist zu binden, zu schädigen, zu vernichten, denn durch das Körperliche kann man den Geist fassen. In der jetzigen Zeit erkennt man die Gesetzlichkeit der Natur und will sich in sie ein- 37 Nietzsche, 1988: 333 und Parkes, 1994: 134–146 und Pletch, 1991: 54–68 und Rosen, 1995: 49–97 und Schacht, 1983: 94–149 und Shapiro, 1989: 86–112. 204 schliessen, denn in der Natur findet man ein Mittel von Beschwichtigung für die moderne Seele. In der Tat besteht zwischen der Religion und der wirklichen Wissenschaft keine Verwandtschaft: sie entwickeln sich in verschiedenen Ebenen. Die alten Griechen sahen ihre Götter als ein Ideal ihrer eigenen Kaste. Sie sahen sie nicht als Herren über sie und fühlten sich unter ihnen nicht als Knechte wie die Juden. Sie stellten ihre Götter als ein Spiegelbild der gelungensten ihrer Exemplare dar. Das Verhältnis des Menschen zu Gott war wie jenes des niedrigeren Adels zum höheren Adel. Das Christentum dagegen will kein Mass und deshalb ist es un- griechisch und unvornehm. Es ist barbarisch und will nach Nietzsche vernichten. Trotzdem war die Inquisition damals vernünftig, denn sie be- deutete nichts Anderes, als dass man die Wahrheit in der Kirche finde. Die müsste man um jeden Preis bewahren zum Heile der Menschheit. Jetzt aber gibt man Niemandem so leicht mehr zu, dass er die Wahrheit habe. Jede Methode der Forschung hat genug Misstrauen, so dass jeder, der eine neue Meinung vertritt als ein Feind der Kultur empfunden wird. Jeder muss kämpfen, um sich durchsetzen zu können. Das Leben ist vom Anfang an ein ständiger Kampf. Leben ist identisch mit dem Kampf. Es gibt kein Leben ohne Kampf und aus jedem Kampf erwacht ein neues Leben. Jaspers unterscheidet zwei Hauptformen des Kampfes vonein- ander: den Kampf um Dasein und den Kampf um Existenz. Der Kampf um Dasein beruht auf die Macht und die Gewalt. Unser Leben beruht auf den siegreichen Kampf meiner Vorfahren, zugleich aber beruht es auch auf gegenseitiger Hilfe, was die Fürsorge unserer Eltern bedeutet. Jeder Erfolg des Einen verkleinert alle andere um ihn. Die Gewalt richtet sich nicht nur nach aussen gegen andere. Der Mensch richtet sie auch auf sich selbst. Wenn jemand ständig eine Macht nach aussen entwickelt, muss einen starken Willen auch sich selbst gegenüber haben, denn wer sich selbst nicht beherrschen kann, kann auch andere nicht beherrschen. Das ist überhaupt nicht einfach, weil in der Tat, um sich zu beherrschen, man die Vergewaltigung des Selbst schaffen muss. Auf der anderen Seite bedeutet die Gesinnung des Nichtwiderstehens Selbstvernichtung. Wer aber ständing eine Gewalt auf andere ausübt, folgt er einem Weg, an dessen Ende ihn die Einsamkeit erwartet. Er hat zwar alles vernichtet oder unterworfen, aber er steht allem da und kann mit sich selbst nichts mehr anfangen, weil ohne es zu verstehen, er die Schönheit seines Ich's auch vernichtet hat. Der Kampf um Existenz gründet in der Liebe und gedeiht nur bei vollständiger Gewaltlosigkeit. Die Solidarität spielt auch eine wichtige Rolle, wobei jeder seine Kräfte dem anderen zur Verfügung stellt, was natürlich die Möglichkeit der Existenz und weiter der Kommunikation voraussetzt. Wie die Nahrungsmittel sehr wichtig zum Leben sind, so 205 ist auch die Anerkennung wichtig für die menschliche Existenz. Die Men- schen schämen sich nicht, etwas Schmutziges zu denken, aber wohl, wenn sie sich vorstellen, dass man ihnen diese schmutzigen Gedanken zutraue. Viele versuchen einen Einfluss auf den anderen auszuüben, um sich selbst gut vor ihm aufzustellen und auf der einen oder der anderen Weise ihn manipulieren können. Dadurch wollen sie die wünschens- werte Anerkennung gewinnen. Das ist natürlich eine "negative" Aner- kennung denn derjenige, der fühlt, dass er auf einen anderen einen gro- ßen innerlichen Einfluss ausübt, ihm eigentlich ganz freie Zügel lassen muss und ein Widerstehen manchmal erwünschen, sonst wird er unver- meidlich sich einen Feind machen. Sofern Dasein Kampf ist, ist es mit Schuld verbunden. Unsere Hand- lungen können Folgen haben, die niemand vorausgesehen und gewollt hat und die wir dennoch zu verantworten haben. Der Handelnde erschrickt vor den Folgen seiner Tat, obwohl er ihr Urheber ist, weil er an sie nicht vorher gedacht hatte. Die Schuld bleibt im Hintergrund der Seele und droht heimlich dem Menschen. Die Existenz steht dann unter unaufheb- barem Druck und die Bereitschaft die Schuld auf sich zu nehmen, heisst dann Verantwortung. Es handelt sich nicht so sehr darum, schuldlos zu werden, sondern vermeidbare Schuld auch wirklich meiden zu können. Man fühlt sich erleichtert und vergisst seine Schuld, wenn er sie einem anderen gebeichtet hat, aber gewöhnlich vergisst der andere sie leider nicht. Der Mensch erfährt, dass im Leben alles sein Ende hat, auch gedankliche Möglichkeiten erschöpfen sich. Das bedeutet aber nicht, dass man in der Welt nichts tun muss, um die Schuld zu vermeiden, weil Nichthandeln selbst ein Handeln ist. Es hat auch seine Folgen, die mit Sicherheit zu schnellem Untergang führen würden. Man würde einen langsamen, dauerhaften und schmerzhaften Selbstmord begehen. Zu- sammenfassend kann man also zum Entschluss kommen, dass ob ich handle oder nicht, beides Folgen hat und dass in jedem Fall ich unver- meidlich in die Schuld gerate. Die Schuld führt sehr oft zum heftigen Leiden. Das Leiden ist die Einschränkung des Daseins, eine Teilvernich- tung des Daseins, durch die Macht anderer. Es ist eine Abhängigkeit jeder Form, eine Art körperlichen oder seelischen Sklaverei. Es ist eine Anstrengung, die ohnmächtig zusammenbricht beim Versuch zur Über- windung. Bei diesem Versuch fühlt man sich zu verlieren, ohne aber zu sterben. Beim Menschen erscheint nicht sein wirkliches Gesicht, son- dern ein anderes, ein verzerrtes. Das Leid ist ein Element der Existenz. Der Mensch kann ihm nicht ausweichen. Er kämpft gegen das Leiden nach Kräften, es einzuschränken. Er erträgt es bis er untergeht, bis die Kraft des Selbstseins sich relativiert und unbekannten Mächten unter- worfen wird. Es ist dem Menschen etwas Fremdes, aber doch etwas ihm 206 gehörig – Jeder hat zu tragen und zu erfüllen, was ihn trifft und nie- mand kann es ihm abnehmen. Die Ruhe gewinnt er weder im passiven Dulden, noch in der Wut des Nichtverstehens. Manchmal können wir das Leiden vermeiden, in dem wir das Übel, das uns trifft, verändern. Das bedeutet, den Versuch zu machen, durch ein Umdeuten des Übels, es in ein Gut zu verwandeln, dessen Nutzen vielleicht erst später ersichtlich sein wird. Dieser Gedanke könnte eine Erleichterung hervorrufen. Auf der anderen Seite aber kann man nach Nietzsche ohne Schmer- zen nicht zu einem Führer und Erzieher der Menschheit werden. Hinter allem Leiden steht der Tod. Der Tod hört sich grausam an und niemand will daran denken. Er ist leider unvermeidlich, weil er zu den Gesetzen der Natur gehört. Er bedeutet das Ende der menschlichen Existenz. Für den Menschen spielt der Tod keine andere Rolle, als nur durch die Sorge ihn zu meiden. Der Tod des nächsten ist im Leben der tiefste Schnitt. Jeder stirbt allein. Anstelle des Zusammenseins solange Bewusstsein ist, tritt die Einsamkeit, sowohl für den sterbenden als auch für den Bleiben- den. Dieser Schmerz des Trennens ist der letzte hilflose Ausdruck der Kommunikation. Es bleibt nichts Anderes als den Sterbenden allein zu lassen, ihm kann man nicht folgen – Vor dem Tod haben wir alle Angst. Diese Angst beruht erstens auf dem Vorgang des Todes, der eigentlich unmerklich sei und auf der Vorstellung von einem qualvollen Sein nach dem Tode oder von dem Nichtsein. Diese Angst versucht der Mensch aufzuheben, indem er an der Unsterblichkeit der Seele nach dem Tode glaubt. Aller Schmerz kommt dem Lebenden zu. Im Tode bleibt aber nur das Nichts zu erfassen. Und Jaspers meint: "Nur aus diesem Nichts kann mir die Gewissheit der wahren Existenz werden."38 "Wenn ich bin, ist es mein Tod nicht, und wenn mein Tod ist, bin ich nicht; darum geht mein Tod mich gar nichts an."39 Und weiter: "Den Tod als Vorgang gibt es nur als den des Anderen – Mein Tod ist unerfahrbar für mich, ich kann nur in Beziehung auf ihn erfahren. Sterbend erleide ich den Tod, aber ich erfahre ihn nie."40 EPILOG: DIE HOFFNUNG41 „Pandora brachte das Fass mit den Übeln und öffnete es. Es war das Geschenk der Götter an die Menschen, von Aussen ein schönes ver- führerisches Geschenk und „Glücksfass" zubenannt. Da flogen all die 38 Jaspers, 2000: 148 und Jaspers, 1979: 34–148. 39 Jaspers, 2000: 146 und Pelegrinis, 2011: 748–749, 1067–1068, 1219–1221. 40 Jaspers, 2000: 144 und Steiris, 2011: 755–771. 41 Nietzsche, 1988: 82 und Simmel, 1991: 12–78 und Schrift, 1990: 28–89 und Stambaugh, 1987: 97–113 und White, 1990: 124–145 und Young, 1992: 158–168 und Gilespie, 1994: 25–77. 207 Übel, lebendige beschwingte Wesen heraus: von da an schweifen sie nun herum und tun den Menschen Schaden bei Tag und Nacht. Ein einziges Übel war noch nicht aus dem Fass herausgeschlüpft, da schlug Pandora nach Zeus' Willen den Deckel zu und so blieb es darin: es ist die Hoffnung. Zeus wollte nämlich, dass der Mensch, auch noch so sehr durch die anderen Übel gequält, noch das Leben nicht wegwerfe son- dern fortfahre, sich immer von Neuem quälen zu lassen. Dazu gibt er dem Menschen die Hoffnung: sie ist in Wahrheit das Übelste der Übel, weil sie die Qual der Menschen verlängert." Die Hoffnung ist meiner Meinung nach aber gleichzeitig auch die Rettung der Menschen, weil sie das Schöne und Erlösende, das erwar- tet werden kann, entspricht, was dem Menschen die seelische Kraft gibt, weiterzuleben und kreativ zu sein. Die Seele selbst besteht bei der Ge- burt aus positiven Elementen –eins dieser positiven Elementen ist auch die Hoffnung –, die während des Lebens normalerweise nach ihrem positiven Ziel streben. Leider werden sie während des irdischen Lebens von den Menschen zerstört und dadurch wird auch die menschliche Seele verführt und manchmal geht sie in anderen komplizierteren Wegen verloren. Die Philosophie ist es diejenige, die ihr hilft, den richtigen Weg wieder zu finden. BIBLIOGRAPHY Acampora C. D., (ed.), Nietzsche's "On the Genealogy of Morals": Critical Essays, Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006. Allison D. B., (ed.), The New Nietzsche: Contemporary Styles of Interpretation, Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 1985. 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John F. Humphrey, Philadelphia: Bucknell University Press, 1987. Stauffer J. and Bergo B., (eds.), Nietzsche and Levinas: After the Death of a Certain God, New York: Columbia University Press 2008. Steinthal H., Allgemeine Ethik, Berlin: G. Reimer, 1885. 211 Steiris G., "Exemplary deaths in the Peloponnese: Plutarch's study of death and its revision by Georgius Trapezuntius Cretensis», in H. Cavanagh, B. Cavanagh, J. Roy (eds), Honouring the Dead in the Peloponesse, Proceedings of the Conference held at Sparta, 23–25 April 2009, CSPS, University of Nottingham, 2011, pp. 755–771. Steiris G., Filosofia kai Kosmos, Kosmologikes antilipseis kata tous Mesous Xronous kai tin Anagenissi stin Disi, Athens: Institute of Book – Kar- damitsa, 2010. Thornhill C., Karl Jaspers: Politics and Metaphysics, London: Routledge, 2002. Verlag Quelle & Meyer 1929. Vlastos Gr., "Socrates' Disavowal of Knowledge ,ˮ Philosophical Quarterly, Vol. 35 (1985), No. 138, pp. 1–31. Vlastos Gr., "The Socratic Elenchus ,ˮ The Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 79, (1982), No. 11, pp. 711–714. Vlastos Gr., "The Paradox of Socratesˮ in The Philosophy of Socrates: A Collection of Critical Essays, Garden City: Anchor Books, 1971. Vlastos Gr., Socrates, Ironist and Moral Philosopher, Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell University Press, 1991. Waldenfels B., "Das sokratische Fragen", München 1961. Walraff C. F., Karl Jaspers: An Introduction to his Philosophy, Princeton: Princeton University Press,1970. Walters G. J., Karl Jaspers and the Role of Conversion in the Nuclear Age, Lanham: University Press of America, 1988. White A., Within Nietzsche's Labyrinth, New York and London: Routledge, 1990. Young J., Nietzsche's Philosophy of Art, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Young-Bruehl E., Freedom and Karl Jaspers' Philosophy, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1981. Yovel Y., (ed.), Nietzsche as Affirmative Thinker, Dordrecht: Martinus Nihoff Publishers, 1986. Μιχαήλ Μαντζανάς Αθήνα ΑΝΘΡΩΠΟΣ, Ο ΠΥΡΗΝΑΣ ΤΗΣ ΦΙΛΟΣΟΦΙΑΣ Περίληψη Είναι γνωστό ότι στον Σωκράτη καταμαρτυρείται η στροφή της φιλοσοφίας από τη φύση και το κόσμο προς τον άνθρωπο. Η φυσιοκρατική φιλοσοφική θεώρηση των προσωκρατικών φιλοσόφων μεταποιείται από τον Σωκράτη σε ανθρωποκεντική αναζήτηση. Η ειρωνεία, η μαιευτική και η άγνοια συνθέτουν την πεμπτουσία της διδασκαλίας του και επιγεννούν κατά τον Σωκράτη, τον αυτοέλεγχο, την αυτοσυ- νειδησία και την αυτογνωσία. Ο Σωκράτης με την διδασκαλία του, με το ήθος του, 212 με τον τρόπο ζωής του, μα πάνω απ' όλα με την επιλογή του τρόπου του θανάτου του δίδαξε συνέπεια προς εκείνα που διακήρυσσε και έδωσε αξία στην έννοια της ανθρώπινης ύπαρξης. Ο Νίτσε καταφέρεται εναντίον της λογικής του Σωκράτη και υποστηρίζει ότι η βούληση υπερτερεί της νόησης, των αισθήσεων και των συναι- σθημάτων (βουλησιαρχία). Ο Νίτσε είναι υπέρμαχος της βούλησης για δύναμη και του ανθρώπου εκείνου, ο οποίος υπερβαίνει τα όρια των δυνατοτήτων του (υπεράν- θρωπος). Η γνώση κατά τον Νίτσε είναι δύναμη και η ηθική ταυτίζεται με την επιβολή της βούλησης. Η διδασκαλία του Νίτσε εμφορείται από ένα μηδενιστικό φάσμα, μέσα από το οποίο απαξιώνει την παραδοσιακή ηθική και οραματίζεται την νέα ηθική του υπερανθρώπου. Ο μηδενισμός του Νίτσε δεν διέπεται από αφοριστική και καθαιρετική τακτική έναντι των προγενέστερων ηθικών αξιών, αλλά από φιλοσοφικό ρεαλισμό έναντι των ηθικών προκλήσεων του μέλλοντος. Η βούληση κατά τον Νίτσε σχετίζεται με την αρχή της ευγενούς κα πολύ περισσότερο της αγενούς άμιλλας και με την επιθυμία για απόκτηση δύναμης, τόσο σε προσωπικό όσο και σε κοινωνικό επίπεδο. O Γιάσπερς, κύριος εκπρόσωπος του Υπαρξισμού (Existentialismus), στρέφει την φιλοσοφία στην ανθρώπινη ύπαρξη. Κατά τον Γιάσπερς ο άνθρωπος υπάρχει, όταν δεν είναι εκείνο που θεωρεί ότι είναι και είναι εκείνο που δεν έχει γίνει ακόμη, όταν δηλαδή διαρκώς αναζητά τις δυνατότητες του εαυτού του και τα όριά του. Ο άνθρωπος που υπάρχει, αγωνιά και αγωνίζεται, μεριμνά και ανακαλύπτει τον εαυτό του μέσα στην κοινωνία με τους άλλους και μέσα στη μοναξιά του βιώματός του. Τότε μόνο υπάρχει, όταν βιώνει το είναι του, όταν στοιχηματίζει με τον εσωτερικό του κόσμο, όταν ζει αυτοσυνειδησιακά, δηλαδή βιωματικά και πραγματικά. Τότε και μόνο ανακαλύπτει τον εαυτό του, όχι μέσα από μια γνωσιολογική και οντολογική προοπτική, αλλά μέσα από έναν διαισθητικό και βιωματικό εσωτερισμό που έχει την ουσία της έλλαμψης και του φωτισμού. Πρόκειται για μια βιωματική ενέργεια και για μια κατάσταση εσωτερικής αναδιάρθρωσης, η οποία αποσκοπεί στην ανακάλυψη του εσωτερικού εαυτού, στην βιωματική αυθυπαρξία και στην αυτοσυνειδησία. Η εσωτερική ενέργεια που εκπέμπεται από την βιωματική αυτή κατάσταση, συνεπιφέρει κατ' επέκταση την αυθυπέρβαση με σκοπό την βίωση του Επέκεινα. 213 UDC 34(37)(091) Žika Bujuklić Pravni fakultet Univerzitet u Beogradu TRI EPOHE, JEDAN PRAVNI KONCEPT: IUS CIVILE, IUS COMMUNE, IUS EUROPAEUM AP STRAKT: U ovom ra du autor se ba vi re cep ci jom rim skog pra va na evrop skom tlu, uka zu ju ći na raz lo ge ko ji su omo gu ći li nje go vo po sto ja nje u raz li či tim epo ha ma. Ono što je za jed nič ko an tič kom, fe u dal nom i mo der nom do bu je kon cept ko ji po či va na ide ji o je din stve nom, uni ver zal nom pra vu, ko je pra ti od go va ra ju ći je din stve ni po re dak u dru štvu: unum sit ius cum unum sit im pe ri um. Na vr hun cu svo je mo ći ta ide ja je po sto ja la u Ri mu (ius ci vi le), po tom je ob no vlje na u evrop skim fe u dal nim mo nar hi ja ma (ius com mu ne) i još uvek po- sto ji kao prak tič ni uzor i in spi ra ci ja za uob li ča va nje evrop skog ko mu ni tar nog pra va (ius Euro pa e um). KLJUČ NE RE ČI: re cep ci ja rim skog pra va, ius ci vi le, ius com mu ne, ius Euro pa e um. Po sto ji mi šlje nje da u prav no i sto rij skoj na u ci ne po sto ji to li ko zna- ča jan i to li ko slo žen pro blem kao što je sud bi na rim skog pra va po sle pa da Rim skog car stva. Na me će se pi ta nje: ka ko je mo gu će da prav ni si stem ko ji je ob li ko van pre ma spe ci fič nim isto rij skim okol no sti ma ne sa mo pre ži vi taj dru štve ni po re dak već osta ne vi ta lan i ka sni je, sve do mo der- nih vre me na, ka da je po li tič ki i so ci jal ni am bi jent pot pu no dru ga či ji?1 Du go smo pod u ča va ni ka ko pro gre siv ni raz voj dru štva uvek stre mi ka „bo ljoj i sreć ni joj" bu duć no sti, a da se raz voj čo ve čan stva kre će od „ko mu ni zma be de" (u pr vo bit noj za jed ni ci), do „ko mu ni zma obi lja" na 1 P. Vi no gra doff, Ro man Law in Me di e val Euro pe, Lon don 1909, 2. Ovu di le mu Vi no- gra dov je zgro vi to iz ra ža va u uvo du svo je bri li jant ne stu di je, na sta le po čet kom pro šlog ve ka, pi ta njem: „Za što se još uvek sma tra neo p hod nim da prav ni po čet ni ci iz u ča va ju udž be ni ke na me nje ne rim skim đa ci ma ko ji su na sta li pre vi še od 1500 go di na?". kra ju tog isto rij skog pu ta. Pri tom je dru štve ni raz voj de ter mi ni san eko- nom skim za ko ni to sti ma, od no sno ste pe nom (ne)raz vi je no sti pro iz vod- nih sna ga, pa ka da do đe do pre va zi đe no sti od re đe nog na či na pro iz vod- nje, evo lu tiv ni dru štve ni raz voj ta da re vo lu ci o nar nim sko kom pre ra sta u no vi, vi ši ste pen eko nom skih od no sa. Pra vo pred sta vlja sa mo nad grad- nju nad tom eko nom skom osno vom, i njom je ta du hov na sfe ra ljud skog de la nja bit no de ter mi ni sa na. Otu da, po ovom uče nju, nor ma tiv no ure- đe nje ro bo vla snič kog, fe u dal nog, ka pi ta li stič kog ili so ci ja li stič kog (ko- mu ni stič kog) dru štva, ne mo že ima ti isto vet na obe lež ja, jer su fak to ri ko ji ga bit no od re đu ju sa svim raz li či ti.2 Ne sum nji vo da se an tič ka, sred njo ve kov na i mo der na epo ha znat no raz li ku ju po svo jim op štim obe lež ji ma (so ci jal nim, eko nom skim, kul- tur nim i dr.). Me đu tim, prav na isto ri o gra fi ja je već uve li ko sta vi la pod sum nju ovaj še mat ski pri stup u ob ja šnje nju so ci jal nih fe no me na, kao i ob ja šnje nje uzro ka nji ho vog na stan ka, raz vo ja, kri ze i pro pa da nja. Isto- ri o gra fi ja je, uz po moć osta lih na uč nih di sci pli na, uz dr ma la mno ge od na ve de nih po stu la ta. Van sva ke je sum nje da se na ziv „ro bo vla snič ko dru štvo" mo ra da le ko oba zri vi je pri me ni ti u slu ča ju drev ne egi pat ske ci vi li za ci je ili u is toč njač kim de spo ti ja ma na Bli skom is to ku; ta ko đe, ni ter min „fe u da li zam" se ne mo že rav no prav no ko ri sti ti za dru štve no- e ko nom ske od no se u sred njo ve kov nim dr ža va ma za pad ne Evro pe (sa ras cep ka nom, autar hič nom i va zal nom struk tu rom) i za one ko ji se od njih bit no raz li ku ju, kod dr žav no prav nog ure đe nja Vi zan tij skog car stva (sa ja kom cen tral nom vla šću, je din stve nom dr ža vom i si ste mom pro ni ja); na ziv „ka pi ta li stič ko dru štvo" ob u hva ta to li ko ra zno rod ne ob li ke dru štve- nog or ga ni zo va nja da je iz me đu li be ral nog i kor po ra tiv nog ti pa ka pi ta li- zma te ško na ći čvr ste tač ke ve zi va nja; slič no je i sa „so ci ja li stič kim" (tj. ko mu ni stič kim) dru štvi ma, u ko ji ma su mo gli da eg zi sti ra ju kru ti eta ti- zam, ali i tzv. sa mo u pra vlja nje ili so ci jal na dr ža va skan di nav skog ti pa. Sva ka ko da se kon kret na prav na re še nja mo ra ju pri la go đa va ti re- al nim dru štve nim i eko nom skim po tre ba ma, i uto li ko je uspe šni ji onaj prav ni si stem ko ji taj cilj ostva ru je u što ve ćoj me ri. Za to je ne mo gu će za ne ma ri ti so ci jal ni am bi jent u ko me na sta ju prav ne nor me, ali je pra vo ipak, i iz nad sve ga, tvo re vi na ljud skog du ha. Ono je deo op šteg po gle da na svet, „fi lo zo fi je" jed nog dru štva, re li gij skog po i ma nja, od raz od re- đe nih etič kih vred no sti. Naj če šće su te ide je su bli mi sa ne u spi si ma naj- 2 Ova kav sled dru štve no e ko nom skih for ma ci ja du go se pri pi si vao Mark su, me đu tim, on je u svom de lu Na crt kri ti ke po li tič ke eko no mi je (Grun dris se) iz neo dru ga či ju ti po lo gi ju, dok su po me nu tu pe ri o di za ci ju za stu pa li pri pad ni ci isto rij skog ma te ri ja li zma En gels, Le njin i Sta ljin. Up. L. Mar ge tić, Pred ka pi ta li stič ki ob li ci vla sni štva po Mark so vim „Grun dris si ma", Zgo do vin ski ča so pis 1–2/1980, 159; S. Avra mo vić, „Grun dris se" i Mark sov kon cept an tič kog ti pa pro iz vod nje i ze mlji šne svo ji ne, Ana li PF u Be o gra du, 1–4/1983, 23; L. Mar ge tić, Pri log di sku si ji o Mark so vom shva ća nju an tič kog ti pa ze mlji šnog vla sni štva, Zbor nik PF u Za gre bu, 3–4/1984, 425. 214 ve ćih umo va od re đe ne epo he, ali se one ta ko đe usva ja ju i ma nje ili vi še spon ta no, kao unu tra šnja po tre ba čo ve ka ili ši re za jed ni ce da ži vi na od- re đe ni na čin. Na knad nim isto rij skim pro u ča va njem, na osno vu sa ču va- nih prav nih i van prav nih iz vo ra, na u ka ot kri va ka ko su one iz gle da le u an tič ko do ba, u sred njem ve ku, i po re di ih sa du hov nim, pa i prav nim, te ko vi na ma sa vre me nog do ba. Mo že se uoči ti da u toj op štoj ra zno li ko sti vred no snih po stu la ta, po sto je ne ke pra vil no sti ko je po ve zu ju raz li či te na ro de, kul tu re i dru štve- ne epo he. Slav ni isto ri čar Edvard Gi bon (XVI II vek) je u glo bal noj isto ri ji čo ve čan stva uočio po sto ja nje raz li či tih ci vi li za cij skih kru go va, ko ji u svo me raz vo ju pro la ze, po put ljud ske je din ke, kroz raz li či te fa ze: od ro- đe nja, de tinj stva i mla do sti, do zre lo sti, sta ro sti i fi zič kog ne sta ja nja. Rim- ska ci vi li za ci ja je, po nje go vom vi đe nju, upra vo pri mer pro ži vlja va nja tog isto rij skog ci klu sa u nje go voj ce lo vi to sti, za raz li ku od ne kih dru gih na ro da či ji je raz voj u ne koj od tih fa za na glo pre ki nut, a da svoj vr hu nac i us pon ni su ni do sti gli.3 Pri tom se ka te go ri je „us pon" i „pad" mo ra ju uslov no shva ti ti, sa mo uko li ko se isto rij ski raz voj po sma tra glo bal no, s vi so kim ste pe nom uop šta va nja po je di nač nih isto rij skih zbi va nja, ko ja ne mo ra ju uvek pra ti ti op štu ten den ci ju dru štve nog pro gre sa ili de ka den ci- je. To je naj o či gled ni je u do ba ka da je rim ska dr ža va do sti gla ogrom no te ri to ri jal no pro ši re nje i ka da je mo gu će pra ti ti sa svim su prot ne ten den- ci je raz vo ja u raz li či tim de lo vi ma Car stva. Otu da se isto ri ja Ri ma mo že po de li ti na če ti ri fa ze, ko je sli ko vi to mo že mo obe le ži ti kao de tinj stvo rim ske ci vi li za ci je, do ba mla do sti i pu nog uspo na (pret kla sič ni pe riod), epo hu zre lo sti i sta bil no sti (kla sič ni pe riod) i na kra ju, do ba sta ro sti, kri ze i opa da nja (post kla sič ni pe riod). Slič na pa ra le la se su sre će i u sred njo ve kov nim dr ža va ma, ko je no se obe lež ja ra nog, raz vi je nog ili po znog fe u da li zma. I kod njih se mo gu pra- ti ti pe ri o di uspo na, zna ci kri ze i ko nač ni ras pad. Ta am pli tu da uz di za nja i pa da ne gde je bi la du ža, a ne gde je na glo pre ki da na, po put sred njo ve- kov ne Srp ske dr ža ve, či ji je us pon ve o ma du go tra jao, da bi za vre me ca ra Du ša na do sti gla me te or ski us pon, a pad je bio re la tiv no brz (pe riod De spo to vi ne). Sli čan pri mer je Fra nač ka dr ža va, ko ja je od V ve ka po- če la svo je formiranjе, a tek tri sta go di na ka sni je do ži ve la naj ve ći us pon pod Kar lom Ve li kim, da bi se već sre di nom IX ve ka ras pa la na ne ko li ko fe u dal nih te ri to ri ja (za če ci Ne mač ke, Ita li je i Fran cu ske). U oba slu ča ja ra di se o tri jum fu par ti ku la ri zma nad cen tral nom vla šću, od no sno afir- mi sa nju op šte ten den ci je su ko blja va nja cen tral ne i lo kal ne vla sti – to li ko ka rak te ri stič ne za raz ne epo he i raz li či te pro sto re. 3 E. Gi bon, Opa da nje i pro past Rim skog car stva, Be o grad 2003, v. pred go vor: S. Avra- mo vić, IX–XV. 215 Car Du šan je svo je pro stra no car stvo, od Du na va do Egej skog mo ra, vi deo kao ob no vu is toč nog de la Ro mej skog car stva („Vi zan ti je") i se be kao va si lev sa na nje nom če lu, dok je Kar lo Ve li ki kao „rim ski im pe ra- tor" pod svo jom kon tro lom dr žao sko ro ceo evrop ski deo ne ka da šnjeg Za pad nog rim skog car stva. Pri tom, oba ova vla da ra obe le ža va ju pe riod naj ve ćeg ci vi li za cij skog uspo na na ro da ko me su pri pa da li. To je epo ha eko nom ske, ali i du hov ne, kul tur ne, pa i prav ne re ne san se. Me đu tim, ova dva Car stva ni su ni šta dru go do dve po lo vi ne pret hod no raz bi je ne Rim ske im pe ri je. Upra vo su nje na moć, sla va i ve li či na bi li in spi ra ci ja za ovu dvo ji cu sred njo ve kov nih vla da ra. Oni su tek za ko ra či li na mu ko- trp ni put ob no ve ne če ga što je uni šte no ve ko vi ma ra ni je, i u to me su sa mo na krat ko us pe li. Par ti ku la ri zam je iz vo je vao po be du jer su lo kal ni in te- re si ob la snih go spo da ra pre vag nu li nad ide jom us po sta vlja nja or ga ni zo- va ne i prav no ure đe ne dr ža ve. Pred sred njo ve kov nom Evro pom se idej ni kon cept nje nog uje di nje nja ta da po sta vio kao že lje ni cilj, ali je ostva re- nje tog ide a la pre da to u ama net ne kim bu du ćim po ko le nji ma. Ius ci vi le. Za što su, u tim okol no sti ma, baš rim ska dr ža va i nje na prav na tra di ci ja po sta le uzor ko me ve ko vi ma te že raz li či ti evrop ski na- ro di, pa čak i u sa svim raz li či tim isto rij skim epo ha ma? Rim ska dr ža va i pra vo kla sič nog pe ri o da (do ba nje ne pu ne zre lo sti) pro dukt su od re đe nih isto rij skih okol no sti. To kom pr va dva ve ka prin- ci pa ta us po sta vljen je pe riod sta bil no sti i pro spe ri te ta, na zvan „rim ski mir" (Pax Ro ma na). Rat na osva ja nja su pri ve de na kra ju, učvr šće na je dr žav na gra ni ca (li mes) i zna tan broj sta nov ni štva ose ćao je bla go de ti eko nom skog bo gat stva aku mu li ra nog kra jem re pu bli ke. To je pe riod ve li kog pri vred nog i kul tur nog pro spe ri te ta, ko ji je na ro či to pri me tan u pro vin ci ja ma. Do la zi do pro ce sa ro ma ni za ci je po ko re nog sta nov ni štva, ko je usva ja rim ski na čin ži vo ta, la tin ski je zik, ka rak te ri stič nu ar hi tek tu- ru, pa čak i bo go ve. Do kul tur ne asi mi la ci je do la zi uglav nom ne na sil nim pu tem, jer im je ona omo gu ća va la lak še uklju či va nje u ad mi ni stra tiv ni apa rat pro vin cij ske upra ve, bo lju ko mu ni ka ci ju sa osta lim sta nov ni štvom, olak ša nu tr go vi nu, uče šće u voj sci. S dru ge stra ne, i sa mi Ri mlja ni su u kon tak tu sa dru gim raz vi je nim kul tu ra ma (po go to vo grč kom) pri hva- ta li nji ho ve ci vi li za cij ske te ko vi ne i prag ma tič no ih uklju či va li u sva- ko dnev ni ži vot. Do la zi do pro cva ta gra do va ši rom im pe ri je, bi lo da se ob na vlja ju sta ra na se lja ili us po sta vlja ju no ve ko lo ni je i mu ni ci pi je. Kon- zer va tiv ni duh Ri mlja na uti če na to da oni i da lje svo ju dr ža vu do ži vlja- va ju kao fe de ra ci ju auto nom nih gra do va-dr ža va (ci vi ta tes). Ipak, u stvar- no sti to je moć na im pe ri ja, ko ju ob je di nju je je din stve no tr ži šte, isti je zik, za jed nič ka mo ne ta, na čin ži vo ta, ali i je din stve na prav na re gu la ti va na- met nu ta iz me tro po le. Ka da je po čet kom III ve ka (Ka ra ka li nim edik tom) iz vr še no iz jed na ča va nje rim skih gra đa na sa pe re gri ni ma, ius ci vi le po- 216 217 sta je do stup no i broj nom po ko re nom sta nov ni štvu. Ovim ter mi nom se ta da ozna ča va sin te za tri prav na si ste ma ko ji su do ta da po sto ja li odvo- je no, a sa da su se sto pi li u je dan. De lat no šću pe re grin skog pre to ra to kom ve ko va na sta lo je ius gen ti um („pra vo na ro da"), ko je je od i gra lo iz u zet no va žnu ulo gu u po ve zi va nju na ro da ve o ma raz li či tih kul tu ra, ve ra i prav- nih tra di ci ja. Omo gu ći lo je ne sme ta ni pro met ro ba i uslu ga na te ri to ri ji ce le im pe ri je, po ve zi va nje lju di iz raz li či tih pro vin ci ja, pa i kul tur nu raz- me nu ko ja je „rim ski na čin ži vo ta" uči ni la pri ma mljiv i po ko re nim na- ro di ma. Na taj na čin je rim sko pra vo do sti glo svo je naj vi še do me te, ob je- di nju ju ći te ko vi ne pro šlo sti (sta ro ius ci vi le) sa kre a tiv nim do pri no som grad skog pre to ra (ius ho no ra ri um) i pe re grin skog (ius gen ti um).4 Za raz li ku od Gr ka, ko ji su kroz ras pra ve svo jih fi lo zo fa pro mi šlja li o ide al nim ob li ci ma dr žav nog ure đe nja i naj bo ljim za ko ni ma, a u prak si ipak osta ja li or ga ni zo va ni u oma njim i ra su tim po li si ma, do tle su Ri mlja- ni moć nu je din stve nu im pe ri ju stvo ri li ne ma re ći za te o ri je i ap strak ci je. Nji hov prag ma ti čan duh je ra to vi ma i ve štom po li ti kom stvo rio ogrom- nu i traj nu dr ža vu, ko ja je bi la te melj za na sta nak naj ve li čan stve ni jeg prav nog si ste ma, ko ji će osta ti bez prem ca po svom uti ca ju na po to nju prav nu isto ri ju. Či ni se ne spor nim tu ma če nje ve li kog bri tan skog isto ri ča ra A. Tojn- bi ja po ko me je, po red po volj nog stra te škog po lo ža ja, i kon takt sa vi so- ko raz vi je nim kul tu ra ma dru gih na ro da, pred sta vljao va žan pod sti caj, onaj pre su dan „iza zov" (chal len ge), ko ji je La ti ne iz veo na put ci vi li za- ci je.5 Rim sko gra đan stvo se to kom ve ko va ši ri lo u kon cen trič nim kru- govi ma, za jed no sa pro ši re njem dr žav ne te ri to ri je. Pr vo su ci ves bi li sa mo sta nov ni ci ro đe ni u gra du Ri mu i to do pr vog mi ljo ka za (ki lo me tar i po od Fo ru ma), dok su svi osta li bi li ple bej ci, ko ji će se bo ri ti sa sta ro se- de o ci ma za iz jed na ča va nje svo jih pra va to kom IV i V ve ka pre n.e. Po- tom se gra đan stvo do de lji va lo sta nov ni ci ma obli žnjih la tin skih ple me na (La ti ni), za tim sta nov ni ci ma Ape nin skog po lu o str va (Ita li ci) i na kra ju po ko re nim sta nov ni ci ma iz van Ape nin skog po lu o str va (pe re gri ni). Ve šti- nom ba lan si ra nja i po li tič ke ma ni pu la ci je, za sno va ne na na če lu di vi de et im pe ra, oni su ap sor bo va li da le ko raz vi je ni je kul tu re i ci vi li za ci je i od njih pre u ze li ono što je naj bo lje. Me đu tim, na po lju pra va ovaj na rod ne ma prem ca, pa se mo že go vo ri ti i o „prav nič koj ge ni jal no sti" Ri mlja- na.6 Ni je ni ču do da su pred stav ni ci ne mač ke isto rij sko prav ne ško le (XIX vek) upra vo na ovim spe ci fič nim oso bi na ma, po seb noj na da re no sti i ta- len tu za pra vo, stvo ri li te o ri ju o po sto ja nju „na rod nog du ha" (Volk sge ist), 4 Vi še o to me: Ž. Bu ju klić, Rim sko pri vat no pra vo, Be o grad 2011. 5 Te o ri jom „iza zo va" on ob ja šnja va na sta nak i svih osta lih ci vi li za cij skih kru go va, ko jih je po nje mu do sa da bi lo ukup no dva de set i šest. A. J. Toynbee, A Study of Hi story, Lon don 1934–54, pas sim. 6 O. Sta no je vić, Rim sko pra vo, Be o grad 1996, 10. 218 kao uzroč ni ka na stan ka, raz vo ja i ko di fi ko va nja od re đe nog prav nog si ste ma. Na toj ma tri ci oni su tra ži li ana log ni idej ni kon cept, ko ji bi od- go va rao tek uje di nje nom ne mač kom na ro du i nje go vom po ku ša ju da svo- ju no vo stvo re nu dr ža vu prav no ure di. Pri tom im ni je sme ta la vre men ska raz li ka od pre ko jed nog mi le ni ju ma, ko ja je raz dva ja la nji ho vu epo hu od Ri mlja na, ni ti ne po du dar nost ra no ka pi ta li stič kih od no sa sa da le kim an tič kim uzo rom, dr ža vom ko ja je po či va la na kla sič noj ro bo vla snič koj struk tu ri. Za hva lju ju ći po me nu tim isto rij skim okol no sti ma, su sre le su se dve epo he i je dan isti dr žav no prav ni kon cept. On je po či vao na ide ji o je din stve nom, uni ver zal nom pra vu, ko je pra ti od go va ra ju ći je din stve ni po re dak u dru štvu: unum sit ius cum unum sit im pe ri um.7 Ius com mu ne. Već je na po me nu to da je u sred njem ve ku ide ju o ob no vi Rim skog car stva na krat ko pre tvo rio u stvar nost Kar lo Ve li ki, a u X ve ku je pre u zi ma ju ne mač ki ca re vi, ko ji su se sma tra li za ko ni tim na sled ni ci ma rim skih im pe ra to ra i tu dr ža vu na zva li Sve to rim sko carstvo ne mač kog na ro da. Lo gič na po sle di ca ovog ide o lo škog kon cep ta je da je sva ki ne mač ki kaj zer že leo da pri hva ti i pra vo ko je je ko di fi ko vao nji hov uzor, car Ju sti ni jan. Otu da je pre u zi ma nje rim skog prav nog na- sle đa, kao i sve ga što je na nje go vim osno va ma pri do da to, bi lo ov de da- le ko lak še spro ve sti ne go u dru gim de lo vi ma Evro pe. U sred njo ve kov- nim ne mač kim po kra ji na ma do re cep ci je rim skog pra va do šlo je čak za kon skim pu tem (via le ge). Od lu kom Mak si mi li ja na I rim sko pra vo je po sta lo oba ve zno za Car ski vr hov ni sud, ko ji je usta no vio 1495. go- di ne. Ti me u prak si do la zi do „no ve pri me ne Di ge sta" (usus mo der nus Pan dec ta rum), a za slu gom ško le ka me ra li sta do na stan ka tzv. pan dekt- nog pra va. „Sve to rim sko car stvo" (He i li ges Römisches Re ich, Sac rum Ro ma num Im pe ri um) je uki nu to ka da je Na po leon, po sle po be de kod Auster li ca (1805), pre u zeo car sku ti tu lu za se be, či me je okon ča no hi- lja du go di šnje op sto ja va nje po li tič ke ide je da je im pe ri jal na vlast Ri ma pre ne ta u Ne mač ku (tran sla tio im pe rii).8 Me đu tim, u osta lim dr ža va ma je do re cep ci je do la zi lo spon ta no (via fac ti), ta ko što su prav ni ci ko ji su ško lo va ni na tek sto vi ma Ju sti ni- ja no vog kor pu sa svo ja zna nja pre no si li u sre di ne gde su ži ve li i ra di li (kao su di je, advo ka ti, no ta ri, prav ni sa vet ni ci lo kal nih vla da ra i sl.). Uko- 7 A. Ma le ni ca, Isto rij ski po gled na si ste ma ti za ci ju pra va u evrop skom kon ti nen tal nom pra vu i na raz voj poj ma „pri vat no pra vo", No vi Sad 2010, 30–31. 8 Slav ni fi lo sof Vol ter (XVI II v.) je iz neo sa svim dru ga či je mi šlje nje o Sve tom rim skom car stvu, is ti ču ći da ono ni je ni ti sve to, ni ti rim sko, ni ti car stvo. Raz log za tu neo bič nu iz ja vu mo že se na ći u či nje ni ci da je pa pa pre stao da kru ni še ca re ve u XVI ve ku (pa vi še ni je sve to), ono ni kad ni je vla da lo Ri mom (pa ni je rim sko) i na kra ju ca re ve je bi ra la skup šti na, a sa ma dr ža va je bi la kon fe de ra ci ja, a ne car stvo. Es sai sur l'hi sto i re généra le et sur les moe urs et l'esprit des na ti ons, Pa ris 1756, cha pi tre 70. Na ve de no pre ma: http://en.wi ki pe dia.org/wi ki/ Holy_Ro man_Em pi re. 219 li ko za spor ne slu ča je ve fe u dal no par ti ku lar no pra vo ni je mo glo pru ži ti od go va ra ju će re še nje, oni su sa mo i ni ci ja tiv no, bez iči jeg na re đe nja pri- me nji va li rim sko pra vo. Ta ko je ono pro di ra lo u sva ko dnev ni ži vot, uglav- nom pre ko sud skih pre su da, ali i kroz sa dr ži nu sred njo ve kov nih grad skih sta tu ta u či jem su sa sta vlja nju ti prav ni ci ta ko đe uče stvo va li. Re cep ci ja via fac ti za po či nje u Ita li ji u XII ve ku, a po tom se ši ri i na dru ge evrop ske ze mlje, da bi do XVI ve ka taj pro ces bio uglav nom do vr šen.9 Re zul tat tog du go traj nog isto rij skog raz vo ja je stva ra nje za- jed nič kog, „op šteg pra va" (ius com mu ne), ko je je za sno va no na me ša vi ni Ju sti ni ja no vog, lan go bard skog (ger man skog) i ka non skog pra va. Da kle, to ni je iz vor no kla sič no pra vo, ni ti ono ko je je ka sni jim in ter po la ci ma ušlo u Di ge sta, već pra vo na sta lo tu ma če nji ma i iz me na ma glo sa to ra i post glo sa to ra (ko men ta to ra). Ova kvo „rim sko" pra vo oni su uskla đi va- li sa lo kal nim fe u dal nim pro pi si ma i ele men ti ma ka non skog pra va (ius ca no ni cum). Tre ba ima ti u vi du da se pra vo Ka to lič ke cr kve u sred njem ve ku sma tra lo sa stav nim de lom po sto je ćeg prav nog po ret ka, i za to se na uni ver zi te ti ma stu di ra lo za jed no sa sve tov nim nor ma ma. Po što je i sa mo bi lo za sno va no na rim skom pra vu, od i gra lo je ve li ku ulo gu u nje- go voj da ljoj pri me ni u prak si.10 Zna čaj no je da je ka non sko pra vo ta ko đe po či va lo na ide ji uni ver- za li zma, kao i da je vr hov ni po gla var Rimoka to lič ke cr kve no sio ti tu lu rim skog (za pra vo pa gan skog) pr vo sve šte ni ka, pon ti fex ma xi mus. Ti me je za pad no e vrop ski fe u dal ni po re dak imao dva li ca, jed no ovo ze malj sko, a dru go du hov no, i nji ma od go va ra ju ća dva nor ma tiv na si ste ma (ius utru mque): ci vil no i ka non sko pra vo.11 Svi za jed no, či ni li su ius com mu ne. Ono što je osta ja lo kao pro blem ko ji je tre ba lo ob ja sni ti, bi lo je isto- vre me no po sto ja nje je din stve nog „op šteg pra va", ko je je uskla đe no sa zdra vim ra zu mom (ra tio scrip ta), na jed noj stra ni, i uz nje ga par ti ku lar- nih pra va ko ja po sto je na raz li či tim fe u dal nim te ri to ri ja ma ili u nor ma ma 9 J. Da ni lo vić, Bo lonj ska ško la i re ne san sa pra va, Zbor nik Prav nog fa kul te ta u No vom Sa du, 1967–68, knj. 2, 381–395. 10 U na u ci po sto je raz li či ta gle di šta o to me ko li ki je udeo sa stav nih de lo va ove „me ša vi- ne pra va": rim skog, ger man skog i hri šćan skog (ka non skog). O to me: G. Cas san dro, Le zi o ni di di rit to co mu ne, Na po li 1974, 254–288. Či ni se da je ova ras pra va isu vi še dok tri nar na, jer je ius com mu ne ne sum nji vo po či va lo na Ju sti ni ja no vom pra vu, ko je je, de lo va njem glo sa to ra i post glo sa to ra, bi lo ne sa mo „da va lac" već je isto vre me no i pri ma lo uti ca je ger man skog i ka- non skog pra va. 11 Ma le ni ca, nav. de lo, 33. Te žnja cr kve za je din stvom (ko je je isto ta ko mo gu će sa mo uko li ko cen tri pe tal ne si le nad vla da ju cen tri fu gal ne) ogle da la se i u po ku ša ju ko di fi ka ci je cr kve nog pra va. Ona je ot po če la sa zbor ni kom Dec re tum Gra ti a ni (oko 1140), ko ji ob u hva ta ka no ne cr kve nih sa bo ra, pap ske bu le i dru ge cr kve ne pro pi se. Sa sta vio ga je mo nah Gra ci jan, ko ji je pre da vao na uni ver zi te tu u Bo lo nji, a nje gov rad će ka sni je po sta ti deo obim ne prav ne zbir ke, na zva ne Cor pus iuris ca no ni ci. Tre ba ima ti u vi du da se ovaj zbor nik ne svo di sa mo na pra vo Rimoka to lič ke cr kve, već da u sred njem ve ku ob u hva ta i nor me ko je se da nas sma tra ju se ku lar nom sfe rom (brač no, tr go vin sko, rat no pra vo). A. Win roth, The Making of Gratian's Decretum, Cambridge 2000, naročito poglavlje Gratian and Roman Law, 146–174. grad skih sta tu ta. Pri me nom sho la stič kog for mal no-lo gič kog me to da, od- go vor je pro na đen u tek stu rim skog prav ni ka Pa u la. Mno go ve ko va ra ni- je, on je „po je di nač no pra vo" (ius sin gu la re) ob ja snio kao „pra vo ko je je na osno vu ovla šće nja stva ra o ca pra va uve de no ra di ne ke ko ri sti, pro- tiv no gla su ra zu ma".12 Ta ko đe i Gaj go vo ri o iura pro pria, prav nim po- re ci ma ko ji su u Ri mu pri pa da li po je di nim na ro di ma, na su prot „op šteg pra va": „Svi na ro di, ko ji se vla da ju po za ko ni ma i obi ča ji ma, slu že se de- lom sop stve nim pra vom, de lom pra vom ko je je za jed nič ko svim lju di ma".13 Sred njo ve kov na prav na na u ka će se ve ko vi ma is cr plji va ti u ob ja šnje nju te an ti no mi je i da va će naj ra zli či ti je od go vo re o od no su op štih i po je di nač- nih iz vo ra pra va, ali bi u tu ar gu men ta ci ju ov de bi lo su vi šno ula zi ti.14 Prav ni ci sva ka ko ni su mo gli ig no ri sa ti sna gu po sto je ćeg lo kal nog pra va, ko je je i sa mo bi lo ve o ma ra zno li ko. Po je di ni prin ci pi rim skog pra va osta li su da ži ve u obi ča ji ma po je di nih kra je va gde je osta lo po ko- re no ro man sko sta nov ni štvo, dok su u gra do vi ma rim ske prav ne usta- no ve pro di ra le pre ko sta tu tar nog pra va. Otu da rim sko pra vo va ži uvek ka da ne ma dru gog iz vo ra i kao sup si di jer ni iz vor po pu nja va prav ne pra- zni ne uko li ko po sto je ći obi ča ji, od red be sta tu ta ili cr kve ni ka no ni ne ma ju re še nje za da ti pro blem. Za to se i ka že da rim sko pra vo u sred njem ve ku po či nje ta mo gde „ces sat sta tu tum, ius non scrip tum, ius ca no ni ci".15 Ma da na sta nak i raz voj re cep ci je rim skog pra va na po je di nim pod- ruč ji ma ima svo je spe ci fič no sti, ipak se mo gu za pa zi ti ne ke pra vil no sti i u nje nom na stan ku i raz vo ju. Da bi uop šte na stao fe no men prav ne re cep ci je, neo p hod no je da se pr vo stvo re od re đe ni dru štve no e ko nom ski pred u slo vi za to, za tim, da se upo zna i pro u či pra vo ko je se že li pre u ze ti (struč na, dok tri nar na re cep- ci ja), i tek po tom se nje go ve nor me mo gu pri me ni ti u prak si (prak tič na, nor ma tiv na re cep ci ja). To va ži i za sred njo ve kov nu re cep ci ju rim skog pra va u evrop skim ze mlja ma: – u nji ma je pr vo do šlo do raz vo ja rob no nov ča ne pri vre de, za sno- va ne na pri vat nom vla sni štvu (na su prot fe u dal ne po de lje ne svo ji ne i na tu ral ne raz me ne), usled če ga se ja vi la po tre ba za pra vom ko je ta kve od no se mo že uspe šno re gu li sa ti; 12 D. 1,3,16 (Paulus, libro singulari de iure singulari): Ius singulare est, quod contra tenorem rationis propter aliquam utilitatem auctoritate constitueentium introductum est. 13 D. 1,1,9 (Gaius, libro primo institutionum): Omnes populi, qui legibus et moribus reguntur, partim suo proprio, partim communi omnium hominum iure utuntur. 14 Postglosatori su se naročito bavili pravnom prirodom gradskih statuta, koji su kao ius proprium stajali nasuprot „opšteg prava". Da bi ih uklopi u rimsko pravo, neki pravnici (Bartol, Baldus) su ih poistovećivali sa ediktima rimskih magistrata, drugi (Ćino Pistojski) u njima vide municipalni zakon (lex municipalis), a za treće (Akursije) statut je sličan rimskoj ustanovi pactum, itd. F. Calasso, Il concetto di diritto comune, Modena, 1934, 36ss. 15 Calasso, op. cit., 31ss. 220 221 – za tim se na uni ver zi te ti ma struč nom ob ra dom Ju sti ni ja no vog zbor- ni ka (dok tri nar na re cep ci ja) do la zi do spo zna je da rim sko pra vo pred- sta vlja naj bo lji od go vor fe u dal nom prav nom par ti ku la ri zmu; – po tom su raz li či te prav ne ško le to pra vo si ste mat skom ob ra dom pri la go di le po tre ba ma ži vo ta i ono je mo glo po sta ti va že će, po zi tiv no pra vo po je di nih evrop skih re gi ja ili dr ža va (nor ma tiv na re cep ci ja).16 Da kle, re cep ci ja je za hva ta la one evrop ske ze mlje gde su po sto ja li od go va ra ju ći po li tič ki, ali i eko nom ski pred u slo vi. Otu da se, na pri mer, u XI II ve ku na se ve ru Fran cu ske, zbog pri vred ne ne raz vi je no sti, i da lje pri me nju je fe u dal no lo kal no pra vo, pa je to pod ruč je „obi čaj nog pra va" (pays de dro it co u tu mi er), dok se jug Fran cu ske, gde po sto je raz vi je ni pri mor ski gra do vi, na zi va pod ruč jem „pi sa nog pra va" (pays de dro it ec rit), od no sno rim skog.17 Po što su ita li jan ski gra do vi pr vi do ži ve li na gli pro cvat već u XI ve ku, nji ho vi or ga ni vla sti (ple mić ka ve ća, skup šti ne gra đa na, ma gi stra ti raz li či tih zva nja) za po či nju prak su do no še nja sta tu ta či je su nor me bi le u pot pu nom ras ko ra ku sa po sto je ćim fe u dal nim pra vom. Tr ži šna pri vre- da i rob no nov ča na raz me na stva ra li su sa svim nov eko nom ski am bi jent u ko me su ži te lji gra do va ima li za jed nič ki in te res da se oslo bo de pa tro- na ta fe u dal nih go spo da ra. Otu da su se oni bo ri li za svo ju grad sku auto- no mi ju, za jed ni cu slo bod nih gra đa na ko ju su na zi va li „ko mu nom" (commu nio, od cum + mu ni re – ob je di nje ni unu tar zi di na), a sta tu ti su bi li iz raz upra vo tih nji ho vih te žnji. Ovim ma lim grad skim „usta vi ma" pro- pi si va li su or ga ni za ci ju unu tra šnje vla sti, ali i na či ne skla pa nja ugo vo ra, te sta mena ta i dru gih prav nih po slo va, kao i po stu pak re gu li sa nja spo ro va pred lo kal nim ko mu nal nim su do vi ma. Re še nja za mno ga od tih pi ta nja već su se na la zi la u rim skim tek sto vi ma i sa mo ih je tre ba lo pre u ze ti i pri me ni ti u prak si. Gra do vi ši rom Evro pe po sta ja li su ta ko oaze slo bo- de od fe u dal nog ugnje ta va nja, pa su čak i kme to vi ko ji bi pre be gli, i u nji ma ži ve li od re đe no vre me (go di nu da na), po sta ja li slo bod ni gra đa ni. U Ne mač koj je otu da na sta la iz re ka da „grad ski va zduh či ni čo ve ka slo- bod nim" (Stad tluft macht frei).18 16 Ovu pravilnost potvrđuje i pravni razvoj novovekovne Srbije. Naime, proterivanjem Turaka ojačao je sloj domaćih trgovaca i zemljoposednika i formirani su začeci srpske građan- ske klase. Ona traži zaštitu svoje privatne svojine i sigurnost pravnog prometa, ugroženu kne- ževom samovoljom, što se postiže donošenjem brojnih ustava i zakona, a pogotovo odredbama Srpskog građanskog zakonika (1844). Međutim, da bi novi pravni poredak (zasnovan na re- cepciji Austrijskog građanskog zakonika iz 1811) mogao biti primenjen u praksi, bilo je ne- ophodno prethodno obezbediti školovane stručnjake za to. Osnivanjem pravnog odeljenja na Velikoj školi, pogotovo uvođenjem predmeta Rimsko pravo, obezbeđen je i taj preduslov. V. Ž. Bujuklić, Recepcija rimskih pravnih koncepata i evropska integracija Srbije, u: Pravni kapa- citet Srbije za evropske integracije, br. 2, 2007, 217–234. 17 Vinogradoff, op. cit., 59–83. 18 H. Mitteis, City air makes free, in: Festschrift Edmund E. Stengel, Munster-Cologne, 1952, 342–358; Ž. Bujuklić, odrednica „Statuti", u Leksikon srpskog srednjeg veka, Beograd 1999, 702–706 (urednici S. Ćirković i R. Mihaljčić). 222 Kao da se an tič ka isto ri ja gra da Ri ma po če la od vi ja ti iz no va: sred- njo ve kov ne ko mu ne po sta ju osno va za na sta nak usit nje nih fe u dal nih dr ža vi ca, a nji ho vim udru ži va njem se po tom for mi ra ju ši re re gi je, dok ih ko nač no ne ki spo sob ni vla dar ne ob je di ni pod svo jom cen tral nom vla šću. Ti me se oži vlja va an ta go ni zam iz me đu kra lja (ca ra) i par ti ku lar nih in te- re sa fe u dal nog plem stva, ko ji se re ljef no ogle dao i u prav noj sfe ri. Otu- da, ka da je Mak si mi li jan I osno vao Car ski ka me ral ni sud (Re ic hkammer ge richt), na re dio je da se na nje mu mo ra pri me nji va ti „op šte pra vo" (Ge me i nes Recht), osim ka da se stran ke opre de le za lo kal no „ze malj sko pra vo" (Landsrecht). U tom slu ča ju su mo ra le do ka zi va ti sa dr ži nu tih pra vi la, uglav nom obi čaj nih, ko ja su se ve o ma raz li ko va la u sva koj dr ža- vi ci, fe u du ili gra du. Car ski vr hov ni sud ni je bio oba ve zan da ih po zna je, pa je va ži lo pra vi lo iura no vit cu ria („sud po zna je pra vo"), pri če mu se mi sli lo na ne mač ko op šte pra vo (ius com mu ne).19 Rim sko pra vo se vre me nom pri me nji va lo na sve ve ćoj te ri to ri ji, ko ja je naj pre ob u hva ta la ju žnu Ita li ju, jer je do do la ska Sa ra ce na i Nor- ma na bi la deo Vi zan tij skog car stva, a Ju sti ni ja nov ko deks se ko ri stio i u ita li jan skoj obla sti Ro ma nja, či ji je cen tar bi la upra vo Bo lo nja. Iz me- nje no i pri la go đe no post kla sič no rim sko pra vo će, po red ve ćeg de la Ne- mač ke, bi ti pri sut no i u Ho lan di ji, Bel gi ji, Špa ni ji, de lo vi ma Fran cu ske, a duh rim skog pra va do ta kao je i En gle sku.20 Re cep ci ju je umno go me olak ša la či nje ni ca da su vla da ri, ko ji su se be vi de li kao na sled ni ke rim- skih ca re va, sma tra li da je po red Ju sti ni ja no vog kor pu sa ne po treb no da i sa mi do no se za kon ske pro pi se, pa je nji ho va nor ma tiv na ak tiv nost bi la za ne mar lji va sve do po ja ve no vo ve kov nih gra đan skih ko di fi ka ci ja.21 Do re cep ci je je te že do la zi lo ta mo gde je usled ne raz vi je no sti po sto je će obi- čaj no pra vo bi lo ži vo, pa još od lu ka ma lo kal nih fe u dal nih go spo da ra sre đe no u po seb ne zbir ke (se ver na Fran cu ska, se ver na Ne mač ka). Po se ban slu čaj je En gle ska, gde je vla dar skim de kre tom, Mer ton- skim ak tom iz 1236. go di ne, za bra nje na pri me na rim skog pra va. Ume sto pre u zi ma nja evrop skog ius com mu ne, En gle ska je stvo ri la svo je sop stve- no „op šte pra vo" (Com mon Law), ko je je pr ven stve no na sta lo prak som kra ljev skih su do va. Zbog to ga se an glo sak son ski si stem pra va da nas znat no raz li ku je od evrop skog ili kon ti nen tal nog.22 Me đu tim, rim sko 19 P. Koscha ker, Euro pa und das römische Recht, München 1947 (1966), 378; L. S. Ma- ru ot ti, La tra di zi o ne ro ma ni sti ca nel di rit to euro peo: Dal la cri si del lo ius com mu ne al le co di fica zi o ni mo der ne, To ri no 2003, 1–15; N. Mo jo vić, Rim sko pra vo – Isto ri ja rim skog pra va, knj. I, Ba nja Lu ka 2008, 461ss. 20 Vi no gra doff, op. cit., 59–132; P. Stein, Ro man Law in Euro pean Hi story, Cam brid ge 1999. 21 O. Stan ko vić – V. Vo di ne lić, Uvod u gra đan sko pra vo, Be o grad 1966, 270. 22 Isto rij ski je pa ra doks da je kla sič no rim sko pra vo svo jom ka zu i stič kom pri ro dom da- le ko bli že an glo sak son skom „pre ce dent nom pra vu" ne go pra vi ma kon ti nen tal nog ti pa, ko ja re še nja po je di nač nog slu ča ja za sni va ju na op štem prav nom pra vi lu. O. Sta no je vić, Ze mlje 223 pra vo je i da lje osta lo deo uni ver zi tet skih pro gra ma Oks for da i Kem bri- dža, sa ko jih su iz la zi li „dok to ri" sa di plo mom ci vil nog (rim skog) i ka non- skog pra va (doc to res utri u sque iuris). Nji ho vo de lo va nje je da lo pe čat po ku ša ji ma si ste ma ti za ci je en gle skog obi čaj nog pra va (Com mon Law) i ta ko do pri ne lo pri bli ža va nju ne kih prav nih kon ce pa ta ko ji pri pa da ju raz- li či tim prav nim tra di ci ja ma, a u Škot skoj je rim sko pra vo na sta vi lo da se ne sme ta no pri me nju je. Po što u En gle skoj ni je bi lo ko di fi ka ci ja ko je bi eli mi ni sa le po je di ne evrop ske prav ne ide je, one su se za dr ža le čak i du že ne go u kon ti nen tal noj Evro pi.23 U to me je zna čaj nu ulo gu ima la i cr kva, ko ja je pre ko ka non skog pra va de li mič no sa ču va la kon ti nen tal nu tra di ci ju, ta ko što su cr kve ni su do vi pri me nji va li nor me ko je su bi le za sno- va ne na rim skom pra vu. Su per i or nost prav nič kog re zo no va nja Ri mlja na na šla je put i pro bi ja la se kroz na iz gled ne pro boj ne ba ri je re po li tič kih in te re sa i lju bo mor nog ču va nja ostrv ske tra di ci je.24 U mo der no vre me su me đu sob ni kon tak ti kon ti nen tal nog i pre ce dent nog pra va do ve li do sve ve ćeg pri bli ža va nja ova dva prav na si ste ma, a pro ces glo ba li za ci je i in sti- tu ci o nal nog or ga ni zo va nja Evrop ske uni je to me još vi še do pri no si. Ius Euro pa e um. Po sto je dva sa svim opreč na sta va o bu duć no sti rim skog prav nog na sle đa. Je dan po la zi od pret po stav ke da se ra di o vred noj isto rij skoj te ko vi ni, ali ko ja je za mo der ne dru štve ne od no se sa- svim pre va zi đe na i ne a de kvat na. Dru gi te o re ti ča ri sma tra ju upra vo su- prot no. U vre me ni ma ka da evrop ske dr ža ve pre va zi la ze okvi re na ci o- nal nih dr ža va i idu ka us po sta vlja nju je din stve nog prav nog si ste ma svih nje nih gra đa na, rim sko pra vo tre ba da bu de in spi ra ci ja i te melj bu du ćeg za jed nič kog evrop skog pra va, po go to vo pri vat nog. Me đu ovim te o re ti- ča ri ma po sto ji je di no di le ma da li osnov tog no vog op šeg pra va tre ba da bu de sred njo ve kov no ius com mu ne (rim sko pra vo pri la go đe no ta da šnjim fe u dal nim od no si ma) ili kla sič no rim sko pra vo sa ču va no u Ju sti ni ja no- vim Di ge sta ma. pre ce dent nog pra va (Com mon Law), 1987, 1–36; P. Stein, Ro man Law, Com mon Law, and Ci vil Law, Loyola Law Re vi ew, 1991–1992, 1592–1604. 23 O uti ca ju rim skog pra va na an glo sak son sko pre ce dent no pra vo vi de ti: P. Stein, Conti nen tal In flu en ces on En glish Le gal tho ught (1600–1900), The Cha rac ter and In flu en ce of the Ro man Ci vil Law, Lon don 1988, 223ss; A. Wat son, in: Ro man Law and En glish Law: Two Pat terns of Le gal De ve lop ment, Loyola Law Re vi ew, 1990, 247ss; S. P. Bu ho fer, Struc tu ring the Law: The Com mon Law and the Ro man In sti tu ti o nal System, Swiss Re vi ew of In ter na ti o nal and Euro pean Law, 5(2007), 24ss; Encyclo pe dia Bri ta ni ca CD, ver sion 98, The Hi sto ri cal Ri se of Com mon Law (sub sec tion: „Furt her Ro man Law In flu en ces"). 24 U di rekt ne po zaj mi ce rim skog pra va spa da unjust en ric hment (u ko me se pre po zna je usta no va con dic ti o nes si ne ca u sa), po sto ji slič nost i u kla si fi ka ci ji ugo vo ra, za tim bli skost ne- kih in sti tu ci ja, po put an glo sak son skog „tra sta" (trust) i rim ske fi du ci je ( fi du cia), a oči gled na je i ter mi no lo ška slič nost ter mi na za ozna ča va nje svo ji ne i dr ža vi ne (pro pri e tas – pro perty, pos ses sio – pos ses sion). Po sto ji i pa ra le la iz me đu ac ti o nes in rem i ac ti o nes in per so nam sa po de lom na real i per so nal pro perty. Vi no gra doff, op. cit., 101ss; Sta no je vić, op. cit., 25ss. 224 Mo der ne ro ma ni stič ke stu di je na evrop skim (pa i svet skim) uni- ver zi te ti ma mo ra ju pru ži ti na uč nu ar gu men ta ci ju za da va nje od go vo ra na po me nu te di le me. Me đu tim, rim sko pra vo je već uve li ko in kor po ri- sa no u sa vre me ne in sti tu ci je gra đan skog pra va, ono je sa stav ni deo mno- gih te o ret skih kon ce pa ta, na sta lih pri hva ta njem poj mo va, ter mi no lo gi je i kon kret nih re še nja iz an ti ke. U tom smi slu ono već pred sta vlja te melj prav ne na u ke i pra va mo der nog evrop skog dru štva, kao i onih na dru gim kon ti nen ti ma, ko ji su pu tem ko lo ni za ci je pre u ze li ove te ko vi ne (La tin ska Ame ri ka, ve li ki deo Afri ke). Ti me je umno go me već ostva ren za vet Ju- sti ni ja na, is tak nut u kon sti tu ci ji ko jom je pro gla sio stu pa nje na sna gu Dige sta: „že lim ne sa mo na šem ne go i sva kom do bu, ka ko upra vo pred stoje ćem ta ko i onom ka sni jem, da po da rim naj bo lje za ko ne (pra vo)".25 Mo der na vre me na do ne la su krup ne ci vi li za cij ske pro me ne. Na sta- nak ka pi ta li zma, in du strij ska re vo lu ci ja, pre ko o ke an ska osva ja nja sve ta, na sta nak ve li kih dr ža va, pro me ni li su ži vot lju di iz te me lja. No vi so ci- jal ni mi lje na met nuo je i sa svim dru ga či je sva ko dnev ne pro ble me, za či je re ša va nje je neo p ho dan i od go va ra ju ći nor ma tiv ni po re dak. Evro pa se opet na šla pred isto rij skim iza zo vom, da li će nad vla da ti par ti ku lar ni in te re si na ci o nal nih dr ža va, ko je su na sta le iz pri rod ne že lje po je di nih na ro da za eman ci pa ci jom svo je sa mo bit no sti, ili će pre vla da ti eko nom ski in te re si ka po ve zi va nju i ši rim in te gra ci ja ma. Na stan kom Evrop ske za jed ni ce, po tom Uni je, pred nost je na čel no da ta ovom dru- gom kon cep tu. On omo gu ću je mi li o ni ma gra đa na po ve zi va nje i ostva- re nje isto vet nih eko nom skih, ali pre sve ga gra đan skih pra va. Uki da njem gra ni ca, obez be đi va njem je din stve nog eko nom skog pro sto ra, uvo đe njem isto vet ne va lu te, do mi na ci jom sa mo jed ne voj ne struk tu re, kao i po sred- nim na me ta njem en gle skog je zi ka kao espe ran ta svih Evro plja na, ob je- di nju je se obim na te ri to ri ja ko ja od Rim skog car stva ni je ni ka da bi la u toj me ri in te gri sa na. To ni je bio slu čaj ni ka da se Kar lo V na la zio na če lu „Sve tog rim skog car stva", ni ka da je Na po leon svo jim osva ja nji ma ve li ki deo Evro pe pot či nio svo joj vla sti, a i Austro-Ugar ska je ob u hva- ta la sa mo za pad ni deo Sta rog kon ti nen ta.26 Upra vo to je raz log što se u ide ji i prak si Evrop ske uni je mo gu pre- po zna ti ne spor ne pa ra le le sa ne čim što je isto rij ski de ja vù. Stva ra njem ne ke vr ste evrop ske me ta dr ža ve, do la zi do ob je di nja va nja pri vred nog, eko nom skog i kul tur nog pro sto ra, pa se na me će i po tre ba za je din stve- nim prav nim po ret kom: ius Euro pa e um.27 Ti me se oži vlja va kon cept 25 Const. Tan ta (3,12): „...et non tan tum no stro, sed eti am om ni aevo tam in stant qu am po ste ri o ri le ges op ti mas po ne re". 26 Ž. Bu ju klić, Re cep ci ja rim skih prav nih kon ce pa ta i evrop ska in te gra ci ja Sr bi je, 230–231. 27 T. Op per mann, Ius Euro pa e um: Beiträge zur europäischen Eini gung, Ber lin 2006, pas sim; J. Smits, The Ma king of Euro pean Pri va te Law: To ward a Ius Com mu ne Euro pa e um 225 ko ji po či va na ide ji o je din stve nom, uni ver zal nom pra vu, ko je pra ti od- go va ra ju ći je din stve ni po re dak u dru štvu: unum sit ius cum unum sit im pe ri um. Već je i an tič ko ius ci vi le ot kri lo for mu lu pre ži vlja va nja kroz pri la- go đa va nje po tre ba ma ži vo ta. Ri mlja ni su lju bo mor no ču va li tra di ci ju, ali su pre ko pe re grin skog pre to ra svo ri li ius gen ti um, ela stič ni prav ni po re dak ko ji je ta da oka me nje nom ci vil nom pra vu udah nuo nov ži vot. Ta ko je na sta lo uni ver zal no „pra vo na ro da", ko jim su se po čet kom tre- ćeg ve ka ko ri sti li svi rim ski gra đa ni, pa i po ko re ni pe re gri ni. Otu da se ius gen ti um po čeo iz jed na ča va ti sa poj mom ius na tu ra le, „pri rod nim pra vom", ko je je, pre ma rim skim ju ri spru den ti ma, stvo rio pri rod ni ra- zum (na tu ra lis ra tio), pa je ono več no i ne pro me nji vo i za jed nič ko svim na ro di ma. Isto ta ko, sred njo ve kov no ius com mu ne će pre ži ve ti ve ko ve, jer je kao „me ša vi na pra va" pre u ze lo pred no sti nor ma tiv nih si ste ma ko ji su ga ob li ko va li. Osno va je bi la Ju sti ni ja no va ko di fi ka ci ja, ali su se prav ni in sti- tu ti ob li ko va li pre ma zah te vi ma prak se. Po ne ki od njih su sa mo no si li sta- ra la tin ska ime na, ali bi u nji ma osta jao još sa mo duh rim skog pra va. Otu da, pod re cep ci jom u ši rem smi slu tre ba pod ra zu me va ti pre u zi- ma nje rim skih prav nih kon ce pa ta (a ne sa mo kon kret nih nor mi), jer su kon cep ti plod vi še ve kov ne ela bo ra ci je re zul ta ta rim ske prav ne na u ke i otu da pri me nji vi pri kre i ra nju ve o ma raz li či tih prav nih si ste ma, pa i za dru štva ko ja su umno go me raz li či ta od rim skog. Ti me se na ro či to po- ten ci ra uni ver zal ni ka rak ter rim skog pra va i ob ja šnja va pri me na nje go- vih prin ci pa čak i u ze mlja ma ko je ne pri pa da ju evrop skom kul tur nom kru gu (npr. Ja pan, Ki na).28 Sa ovih po la zi šta ni je te ško slo ži ti se sa za pa ža njem ko je je još u XII ve ku iz neo te o log Džon od Sals be ri ja, u svom trak ta tu na la tin skom je zi ku Me ta lo gi con (iz 1159): „Mi smo po put pa tu lja ka što se de na ra- me ni ma di vo va: vi di mo vi še i da lje od na ših sta rih, ne sto ga što je oštri- na na šeg vi da ve ća, i ne zbog na še vi si ne, već upra vo za to što nas uvis uz di že to što se ko ri sti mo nji ho vom di vov skom ve li či nom".29 as a Mi xed Le gal System, Ox ford 2002, 306; E. H. Hon di us (ed.), To wards a Euro pean Ci vil Co de, Klu wer Law In ter na ti o nal, 2004, na ro či to: R. Zim mer mann, Ro man Law and the Harmo ni sa tion of Pri va te Law in Euro pe, 21–42; R. C. Van Ca e ne gem, Euro pean Law in the Past and Fu tu re. Unity and Di ver sity over Two Mil le nia, Cam brid ge 2004, na ro či to 73–88. 28 Za ja pan sku re cep ci ju, pr ven stve no pod uti ca jem ne mač kog pra va kra jem XIX ve ka (1896. g.), vid. is crp no Lj. Đu ro vić – R. Đu ro vić, Prav ni si stem Ja pa na, Be o grad 2011. U Ki ni je Gra đan ski ko deks na stao iz me đu 1919. i 1933. go di ne, a budući da je ta ko đe bio pod uti ca- jem Ne mač kog gra đan skog za ko ni ka, pri hva tio je pan dekt ni si stem. Ko mu ni stič ka vlast ga je uki nu la i tek se ne dav no kre nu lo u stva ra nje no vog ko dek sa. Već su do ne ti Op šti prin ci pi građan skog pra va (1986), a ne dav no se pri stu pi lo i pre vo đe nju de lo va Ju sti ni ja no vih Di ge sta. Na svet skim ro ma ni stič kim kon gre si ma po ja vlju ju se ki ne ski pro fe so ri sa ra do vi ma iz obla sti rim skog pra va. A. Ma le ni ca, Rim sko pra vo, No vi Sad 2007, 155. 29 The Phra se Dic ti o nary, http://phra ses.org.uk/me a nings/268025.html 226 Ne ma ni ka kve sum nje da re še nja ko ja pru ža Cor pus Iuris Ci vi lis ne mo gu bi ti do volj na za re ša va nje broj nih, sa svim no vih i slo že nih pro- ble ma atom ske, kom pju ter ske i sve mir ske epo he u ko joj ži vi mo. Me đu- tim, to ni je do vo ljan raz log da se na sle po pre pu sti mo če sto po mod nim, ide o lo škim ili dok tri nar nim re še nji ma ko ja ni su iz dr ža la pro ve ru vre- me na. Kao što su Gr ci iz mi sli li fi lo sof sku di sci pli nu (pa čak ni da nas ne ma ta kvog fi lo zo fa ko ji bi sma trao su vi šnim da se obra zu je u nji ho- voj ško li), ta ko su Ri mlja ni iz mi sli li prav nu ve šti nu, i još ne ma zna ka da ih je u toj obla sti iko za me nio.30 Žika Bujuklić Faculty of Law University in Belgrade THREE EPOCHS, ONE LEGAL PRINCIPLE: IUS CIVILE, IUS COMMUNE, IUS EUROPAEUM Summary The author deals with the reception of Roman law in the European ground, indicating the reasons that made possible its existence in different epochs. What is common to the ancient, feudal and modern times is a concept based on the idea of unique and universal law, followed by the corresponding unique order in society: sit unum ius cum sit unum imperium. At the height of its power, this idea existed in Rome (ius civile), then has been restored in the European feudal monarchies (ius commune), and is stil existing on the level of principals and as and inspiration of European community law (ius Europaeum). Key words: reception of Roman law, ius civile, ius commune, ius Europaeum 30 M. Vil ley, Le dro it ro main, Pa ris 1993, 118. ПРОЈЕКТИ PROJECTS

UDC 316.722(=14)(560.4):005.745(460.187)"2012" Маријана Рицл Филозофски факултет Универзитет у Београду НАУЧНИ СКУП О ГРЧКО-РИМСКОЈ МАЛОЈ АЗИЈИ НА УНИВЕРЗИТЕТУ У САЛАМАНКИ Током два дана, 21. и 22. јуна 2012. године, на Универзитету у Саламанки одржан је научни скуп на којем су сарадници на тро- годишњем (2012–2014) пројекту Министарства науке Краљевине Шпаније „Etnicidad helénica y pervivencia indígena en un territorio de frontera cultural: La Anatolia grecoromana" („Hellenic Еthnicity and Survival of Native Traditions in a Cultural Border-area: Greco-Roman Anatolia"; IP: María Paz de Hoz, Universidad de Salamanca; convoca- toria de proyectos de investigación fundamental no orientada 2011 del Plan Nacional I+I=i, Ministerio Ciencia e Innovación), разматрали пла- нове о будућој сарадњи и монографији која ће бити објављена као крајњи резултат рада на пројекту. План са којим је започет поменути пројекат је да се истраже културне везе које су остварене на територији грчко-римске Ана- долије. Ова област, позната као колевка многих цивилизација и сво- јеврсни melting pot античког света, посебно је погодна за слична истраживања, имајући у виду богатство грчких и домаћих наратив- них и документарних извора. Теме истраживања биће начини и разлози који су довели до стварања посебног типа грчког иденти- тета и улога коју су у том процесу одиграли грчка културна ели та и домаће становништво градских и сеоских заједница. Посебна па- жња биће посвећена елементима грчке цивилизације које је усво ји- ло домаће становништво, очувању домаћих и иранских традиција, и начинима на које су поменуте културе утицале једна на другу и мењале се. Наративни и епиграфски извори биће анализирани из 230 лингвистич ке, историјске, религијске, социолошке и културне пер- спективе. Руководилац пројекта, Prof. Dr. María Paz de Hoz García-Bellido (Universidad de Salamanca, Departamento de Filología Clásica e Indo- europeo), обавестила је присутне сараднике о свом раду на истори- ји грчког образовања и школства у хеленистичкој и римској Малој Азији, посебно Лидији, Фригији, Галатији и Ликаонији. Prof. Dr. Luis Ballesteros Pastor (Universidad de Sevilla, Departamento de Historia Antigua) говорио је о персијском наслеђу у Понтској краљевини (291–63. године пре н.е.), са освртом на порекло краљевске дина- стије, територију коју је обухватала Понтска краљевина и локалне култове. Dr. Carlos Molina Valero (Universidad de Salamanca, Departa- mento de Filología Clásica e Indoeuropeo) понудио је приказ истори је ликијских храмова у време династије Ахеменида и анализу двоје- зичних и тројезичних натписа нађених у Ксантосу. Dr. Aitor Blanco Pérez (Universidad de Salamanca, Departamento de Filología Clásica e Indoeuropeo/University of Oxford), посветио је своје излагање пети- цијама које је становништво североисточне Лидије упућивало рим- ским царевима у трећем веку н.е. Проф. др Маријана Рицл (Фило- зофски факултет Универзитета у Београду) обавестила је присутне о прелиминарним резултатима свог истраживања локалних кул- това на територији римске Битиније. Током дискусије о потенцијалним темама за монографију која би требало да сумира резултате постигнуте током рада на пројекту „Etnicidad helénica y pervivencia indígena en un territorio de frontera cultural: La Anatolia grecoromana" („Hellenic Еthnicity and Survival of Native Traditions in a Cultural Border-area: Greco-Roman Anatolia") постигнута је сагласност међу учесницима скупа да монографија буде посвећена малоазијским светилиштима у хеленистичко и рим- ско доба. Сарадници на пројекту и позвани гости припремиће, изме- ђу осталог, и радове о следећим светилиштима: светилиште боги- ње Ма у Понтској Комани, Летоон у Ксанту, Меново светилиште у Антиохији у Писидији, светилиште Ларменске богиње у северо- источној Лидији, светилиште Мена и Анахите у североисточној Лидији, Хекатино светилиште у Лагини, итд. У вези с тим, за иду- ћу годину је планиран још један скуп у Саламанки на којем би биле представљене студије припремљене за поменуту монографију. 231 UDC 378.67(495 Athenai):1(091) Soteres Fournaros University of Athens REVIVING PLATO'S ACADEMY. UNIVERSITY OF ATHENS OCTOBER 2012 The greatest of all diseases is ignorance Plato THE UNDERLYING PHILOSOPHY The Academy of Plato is one of the oldest quarters of the city of Athens, heir to a glorious past. It takes its name from the first settler here, the hero Akadimos (or Ekadimos), but is best known for the philo- sophical school founded in the vicinity by Plato in 387 BC, which con- tinued its work of teaching and philosophical inquiry until it was finally closed down by the Emperor Justinian in 529 AD. The Academy was the intellectual heart of ancient Athens, and laid the foundations for the philosophical thought that underpins our civiliza- tion today. It was a place where men pursued studies in every discipline, a centre for political inquiry and debate. Plato made a contribution to philosophy so vital that his influence is still felt today. His philosophical thought explored the nature of reality itself, while not ignoring the more practical problems of his own time and the public affairs of the city of Athens. THE ACADEMY OF PLATO: PATHWAYS TO KNOWLEDGE The Athens of Plato and Aristotle. Places steeped in history, and individuals of world renown who have left their mark on science and 232 culture – not merely parts of our shared historical memory, but places and persons who have shared in laying the foundations of European and global civilization, and who are identified with the enduring values of education, democracy, the cultivation of personality and participation in public life. Places and persons from history – but with the power to refresh and revive the aspirations and ambitions of the society of the present day. The vision for Athens, which we share with the city's mayor, Mr. Giorgos Kaminis, is based on a comprehensive plan to restore the co- hesion of the city, regenerating its individual neighbourhoods, encourag- ing the active involvement of its citizens and highlighting its cultural heritage as an instrument of personal development and knowledge. It is against this background that I propose a plan featuring a whole range of interventions, in the fields of education and culture – and specifically in the development of the area of the Academy of Plato. The idea is to create itineraries which will bring history and tradition together, in innovative ways, with the modern world, and with contem- porary society. Most of the interventions focus on infrastructure, and it is of par- ticular importance that the Ministry of Culture has announced a pro- gramme of expansion in this area. However, in this particular project the emphasis is laid on developing human activities, on raising aware- ness and encouraging the participation of the educational community and of ordinary people in programmes of education and social network- ing designed to raise the profile of the area by drawing on its long and distinguished history. The underlying purpose of this project is to create links between the present day and the spirit and significance of the Academy of Plato as a place of research and learning, a place where not only philosophers, orators and politicians, but also ordinary members of the public, came together to learn, to debate, to reason and to explore new ideas. The inten- tion is to make this a place for discussion of the problems of our own age, a place dedicated not only to knowledge and political thought, but also to the development of the personality and the encouragement of active citizenship. At the same time the project also seeks to highlight local history and its importance to the present day, while showcasing the archaeologi- cal site and laying out specially planned itineraries or 'trails' dedicated to the approach to knowledge and the cultivation of contemporary citi- zenship. The Athens of Plato and Aristotle, of the Academy and the Lyceum – this is a city which seeks to combine thought and action, theory and practice. 233 The specific objectives of the project involve: • highlighting the history of Athens and forging links between that history and the life of the contemporary city • making the archaeological site accessible and intelligible to the public, and particularly to the residents of the immediate vicinity • promoting the value of the humanities and emphasizing their im- portance in our national development • demonstrating the power of the past in creating our future The project will seek: • To familiarize schoolchildren and adults with the discipline of phi- losophy – as a means of developing their ability to think critically, of cultivating the personality and of playing an active part in so- cial and cultural life. • To promote philosophy and philosophical debate as a means of clarifying significant issues facing the contemporary world. • To provide further education for graduates of our philosophical schools, and life-long learning for adult citizens, in the area of the humanities, with particular emphasis on ethics, political philosophy, the philosophy of art and science, the social sciences, law, history and language. • To assist in the development of joint actions, exchanges and col- laborations between Greek and foreign educational institutions (the classical schools operating in many European countries, schools in America and Australia). • To exploit alternative methods of learning based on academic and educational programmes in the arts and involving the active par- ticipation of the student. • To develop the location as an exciting arena for new activities by the city's academic and business communities. It is my ambition to see this project heralding a new role for Athens, and particularly the area of the Academy of Plato, as a place of global importance and influence, where the cultural heritage interacts crea- tively with the contemporary urban environment, fostering productive activity and growth which are compatible with the spirit and historical identity of the place. PHILOSOPHY AND CONTEMPORARY PERSPECTIVES This course will offer an approach to contemporary issues and con- cerns, seen from a philosophical perspective. Students will appreciate how 234 the ideas, perceptions and theories of the great philosophers can be applied anew to the contemporary world. They are not only timely but also of assistance in resolving the problems facing contemporary humanity. THEMATIC UNITS The programme consists of four courses of lessons/lectures. ● Course 1: Philosophy and Economics ○ Plato and business ethics ○ Economic systems and human needs ○ Self-sufficiency, greed, globalization ● Course 2: Philosophy and Values ○ Morality and legality ○ Justice – Meritocracy – Equality – Elimination of corruption ○ Slavery – Work – Leisure ○ Aesthetics: public and private ○ Art and imitation ■ Art in Plato and Aristotle ■ The kitsch in art ■ Original and reproduction: trade and the black market ○ The environmental crisis and the crisis of values ● Course 3: Philosophy and Psychology ○ The security of the citizen, and theinsecurity of the contemporary, globalized citizen ○ Melancholy: yesterday and today ○ Faith and practice ●Course 4: Philosophy and Language ○ Language and power ■ Rhetoric ■ The sophists ■ The mass media ○ Language – discrimination – violence ○ Alternative forms of language ■ Slang ■ Body language ■ Greeklish ■ Codified forms of language ACADEMY OF PLATO EDUCATIONAL MUSEUM The purpose of this programme is to upgrade the area of the Aca- demy, making use of the opportunities provided by cutting-edge tech- 235 nology to develop an appealing, state-of-the-art, interactive, multimedia exhibition. The Educational Museum will feature a range of touch screens, installed in a local building, and multimedia applications with different themes and levels of information, consisting of texts, multimedia mate- rial and images. The visitor will be enabled to explore the real world of the district, while also roaming through the world of ideas. Presenta- tions will be provided in two languages, to make the information more accessible to tourists. There will be three units, with the following content: Place / Antiquities An interactive map of the district, noting the most important land- marks, such as the archaeological site of the Academy, the Ippeios Kolonos Hill, the old tobacco factory, the green spaces, etc. When each landmark icon is activated the relevant information appears, including both archaeo- logical and historical facts. For example, when the icon for the Ippeios Kolonos Hill is activated, reference is made to Oedipus at Colonus. People A picture gallery will be created featuring persons of ancient times (contemporaries of Plato and later figures). When the portrait icon is activated, information is provided on the character's biography, relation- ship with Plato and philosophy, as well as information on the portrait itself. Influences From ancient times Platonic thought has exerted an important in- fluence on philosophy. Schools of thought and theories evolved either opposing or aligning themselves with and developing the thought of the great philosopher. This section will present some of these schools and theories, such as the various forms of Neo-Platonism and the thinkers influenced by Platonic ideas in the Middle Ages and in the Renais- sance. There will also be examples of more recent philosophers and their relationship to the thought of Plato. ASSOCIATED AGENCIES National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, the Onassis Cul- tural Centre of the Alexander S. Onassis Foundation – a not-for-profit civil association, the Institute for Youth of the General Secretariat for Youth and the Foundation of the Hellenic World

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