Socrates and His Audience
Tim Johnson
Department of Classics
Baylor University
If you look too long at a classicist, they'll flinch. As a general rule classicists are self-conscious and introspective members of the academy. What other disciplines can boast such 'self-study styled' titles as, Classics: A Discipline and Profession in Crisis? (Phyllis Culham and L. Edmunds, edd; R. A. Smith co-editor [Lanham, MD] 1989) and Who Killed Homer? The Demise of Classical Education and the Recovery of Greek Wisdom (V. Hansen [New York] 1998)? Homer died in a homicide/suicide -- we classicists murdered Homer in the process of shooting ourselves. Some would say we have been elistist academic oligarchs. I will apologize only a little for our mood, since for at least the last thirty years Classics has been in a mostly defensive posture so tensed that it has become reflexive: we pounce on every opportunity to argue the importance and relevance of the Classics for modern society. So, I smile and admit that we enjoy democracy's discontent. Via Isocrates, Plato, Aristotle, Aristophanes, Thucydides, Demosthenes, Aeschines, and the collective Athenian demos, classicists have found a place in the recent discussions of democratic political philosophy alongside philosophers, political theorists, and other scholars. I have very little reason, then, for an apology, but in 399 BC before the citizen-judges of Athens and by extension before the collected demos Socrates did. We should not overlook the drama of the situation. The disasterous collapse of the Sicilian expedition with the defeat of the Athenian army at Syracuse (413 BC) had heralded the revolt of the Delian league the following year and the final victory of Sparta over Athens (404 BC). During these years, rule at Athens was a volatile mixture of competing powers between the demos, elected generals, and an oligarchial elite, which twice came to power, once in the Council of Four Hundred during the summer of 411 BC and again after the final surrender of Athens (404 BC), when the Spartan admiral Lysander reduced Athens to a satellite state and installed an oligarchy known as 'the Thirty.' In both instances the counter democratic forces remained strong and the oligarchies failed to last out a year, but the political upheaval left a memory of bitter citizen conflict and terror. 'The Thirty' in their political purges were said to have killed more Athenians in eight months than the Spartans in ten years of war (Xen. Hell. 2.4.21). The reign of 'the Thirty', already destabalized by internal conflict and the unpopularity from the extremity of the purges, ended abruptly when pro-democratic forces led by Thrasybalus took control of the Piraeus and defeated the army of the oligarchy. The oligarchy did appeal for Spartan support, but King Pausanias ended the policy of Lysander by restoring the democracy and declaring a general amnesty with the exception of 'the Thirty' themselves and a few of their followers. In general, the democracyÕs reaction towards dissidents was lenient, but scepticism toward the political elite had earned a very difficult edge. Within the immeditae memory of violent oligarchial elitisms, Socrates comes to trial, charged with rejecting the gods of the city and corrupting the youth. He is on trial for his life in the sociopolitical context of democratic discontent.
What you, Athenian citizens, have undergone at the hands of my accusers, I don't know; As it is though, I almost forgot (¤pelayñmhn) who I myself was, they were speaking so persuasively, and yet of the truth they have said, as it were, nothing.
(Pl. Ap. 17a1-4)So Socrates begins the defense for his life. It is a straightforward, if not rather trite attack against his accusers that they have used clever, persuasive rhetoric to inflict injury on the Athenian citizen-judges. Even Socrates almost took leave of his senses, forgot who he was, and allowed them to define his person (most undemocratic conduct on their part). Socrates will have none of this:
They, then, as I say, have said nothing or next to nothing that is true, but you will hear from me the whole truth ...
(Pl. Ap. b6-8)Socrates will not take his arguments out to the beauty-parlor and have them made-up with a rhetor's words and phrases, but as befits his age-seventy years old--and experience--never before had he been brought before the court--he will tell the truth in order with whatever phrases occur to him naturally. He will speak as he has always spoken (Pl. Ap. 17b6-18a6).
Yet, the faces of the speaker are complex: Socrates, "the ordinary citizen", "the offended older gentleman" and simultaneously "the political insider /outsider" sets out a puzzle or at the very least a very difficult tension that still impacts much of the current political debate between the procedure and the ideals of democratic political theory, namely, non-ego-centric inquiry ("I don't know") versus objective standards ("you will hear from me the entire truth"). With all the craft of a rhetorician, Socrates places first his question and delays the governing verb and its negative so that it occupies central position in his first statement. The verbal tri-colon (all in last position) continues and the progression and contrast sets the tone for the remainder of the defense: 'i don't know; i overlooked; they spoke; (of the truth) they have said nothing'. What is the solution to such polarity? How can the Socratic voice here maintain open inquiry and envalued ends? I would like to suggest that the answer lies in the dialectic that follows and the relationship it forces between Socrates and his audience.
Now in my opening statement I will hazard being unSocratic: I will immediately abandon the dialectic tenet by stating my goals. (1) To bring up for debate the assumptions about classical political practice that undergird modern discussions on American democracy. Much of our political context involves classical political systems and their corresponding texts comprise much of our primary source material. It is an essential part of our investigation into citizenship in democracies, then, to question several presuppositions that when coupled together have often served as a matrix for understanding ancient classical political practice. In discussions of the contemporary sociopolitical landscape these assumptions underlie supposed connections between Athenian and American democratic forms.
1) Greece and Roman political practice are often grouped together as ancient forms of democracy without any real understanding of their many differences, and consequently how these differences reflect on the current political debates. For instance, references are often made to the classical form (Greece and Rome lumped together) of democracy as is if it were a precursor for the 'new experiment', when in fact American foundations in conception and practice parallel Rome and, perhaps Sparta, not Athens.
2) Greek political theory is analyzed almost exclusively as Athenian or Spartan, and this limited perspective invites a skewed view of the Greek world and the varied city-states that shaped its history. The wide-ranging distribution of literature from the Archaic period illustrates clearly that Athens was one city-state among many (Archilochus [Paros and Thasos], Simonides and Bachylides [Ceos], Sappho and Alcaeus [Lesbos], Mimnermus and Xenophanes [Colophon], Theognis [Megara], Pindar [Thebes], Hesiod [Askra], etc.). Greek political history should not be narrowed to a condensed overview of only the Classical period to the neglect of the formative Archaic period.
3) Classical political philosophers, such as Plato and Aristotle, are taken to represent majority opinion and are simply read as if they were normative for Athenian society instead of prescriptive or antagonistic. Primary sources often generated by the philosophical or rhetorical elite are cited as the way political practice ÔwasÕ or even more often the way political practice "should have been."
4) The pervasive notion that radical democracy is an undesirable, unwise impossibility, that is, Athenian democracy was elitist and in fact rule by only a small privileged section of society. Democracy is a mask for oligarchy. Robert MichelÕs "The Iron Law of Oligarchy" (Political Parties: A Sociological Study of the Oligarchical Tendencies of Modern Democracy. Trans. Eden and Cedar Paul [New York 1915]) coupled with the highly influential work by R. Syme (The Roman Revolution [Oxford 1939]).
Although I hope that my discussion will relate, even if only in a cursory manner, with all the first three mis-presuppositions, my primary concern (objective 2) will be with the last. I will propose that the dialectic negotiation between the citizen- judges and Socrates in PlatoÕs Apology support Josiah Ober's argument (Mass and Elite in Democratic Athens: Rhetoric, Ideology, and the Power of the People (Princeton 1989) that Classical Athens represented a radical democracy, and I would add in character quite different from the American revolution. Specifically, borrowing from Ober, Athenian practice demonstrates much confidence in popular mass decisions. Further, in contrast to Sparta, no special education was needed for a citizen to participate well in the political process beyond growing up in the polis. There was a general mistrust of the academic or political elite, and the Athenians believed themselves to be a collective nobility (Josiah Ober, The Athenian Revolution: Essays on Ancient Greek Democracy and Political Theory [Princeton 1996] 26-27).
At the center of demokratia are the free speech acts of a common assembly--the ordinary citizenry enact their debate. [The following is condensed primarily from Ober, but is common in the sources] The Athenian ekklesia was comprised of all free adult native born males (approximately 30,000-40,000) and met about once every nine days. Meetings were announced several days in advance and actual attendance, which was voluntary, was between 5,000-6,000. For those who arrived early enough there was state-pay. On the surface only one-fifth of the citizen body, along with the exclusion of all women, slaves, and resident aliens [metics], appears to be a weak argument for a radical participatory process, but "if for example 2,000 attended each meeting, 2,000 alternate meetings, and 2,000 only one meeting in four, then the total attending at least ten of forty meetings annually would be 14,000 (1 x 2,000 + 2 x 2,000 + 4 x 2,000)" (S. C. Todd, Athens and Sparta [London 1996] 250). Even more to the point, the assembly represented the ordinary citizen and was unrestricted by class, wealth, considerations of occupation, or other markers of status. The boule, a council of 500 whose members were chosen by a random lot, set the agenda for the meeting and often wrote proposals for the assembly to consider, although the assembly was free to propose its own. The citizens themselves controlled the debate. The assembly was called to order by a president, selected by lottery for that day only, who after reading the proposal of the council asked, "Who of the Athenians has advice to give?" Any citizen could then speak for or against, amend, or offer a proposal of his own, and would hold the floor until he finished or was shouted down by his fellow-citizens. At the end of the debate a simple majority would carry the proposal.
Free speech-acts also dominated court cases, public and private, in both cases initiated by citizen against citizen. The litigants would appear before a magistrate (in office by lottery) who would assign the case to a court where a jury of 200-500 citizen-judges presided. Each citizen, prosecutor and defendant, would be given a set time to make their argument, during which they could say about whatever they wanted. After the speeches, the jury voted and a simple majority determined the verdict. If a penalty was not already determined by law, another set of speeches was followed by a vote on the penalty. The entire trial would last no more than the day.
Such organization itself helped to prevent the domination of any elite, since an elite would have difficulty consolidating and sustaining its own ideology before the assembly. Simply there was little opportunity for any elite to subvert the demos. The entire democratic process, although stable, did not predict a consistent "social configuration," that is, given the voluntary attendance of the assembly, there would be no way for any speaker to know beforehand the composition of the audience. An elite could not gail control over the agenda, which was set by the council, since the random/lottery process of selection and strict limits on terms (two years not consecutive) prevented them from gaining numerical domination. Further, unlike Rome, there was no patron-client relationship that could be used to manipulate the opinions of the underclass. There were a few elected positions (generals and financial magistrates), but these were subject to intense scrutiny, such as a public audit after the year in office.
In short, Athenian policy was set by the majority opinion of the collective gathering of citizens, enacted by their own debate. This is not to say, that an elite rhetoric could not influence the speeches of the assembly and be represented in the majority vote (this possibility is, in fact, what makes Athenian rhetoric so exciting), but that any elite to be effective would first have to be persuasive. It follows that any felicitous speaker would carefully assess the dispositions and beliefs of the Athenian citizenry, and would construct the speech to engage their composite character. Therefore as in any oration, in Plato's Apology as in his other dialogues, there is resident behind the Socratic speeches an interlocutor/s, namely the citizen-judges to whom Socrates makes his defense. Whether or not Socrates is trying to win his case or prove the dissident, he is constructing a statement in response to the ideologies of this citizen group. His apology is a negotiation/dialectic with them, and as such it is possible, if we can detect how Socrates perceives his audience, to view the speech in part as an expression of democratic ideologies held by the citizen-judges. How does Socrates view the demos?