For my final installation on the Presocratics, I'm not going to analyze a philosopher, but rather a single tragedy: Aeschylus'
Prometheus Bound. If we are to understand the way in which the Solonian and Cleisthenian reforms were made against the overarching power wielded by the aristocracy, we must understand what was going through the public mind - after all, for the Greeks, the `public' mind was the only one there was, as a concept of self was centuries away. All Greek thought, poetry, literature, politics - it all happened at symposia, or in the agora, or in the theater. They were first and foremost a public culture.
What was going on in the public mind, was the great equalization: the high brought low and the lowly lifted up. Economically speaking, the period immediately before Solon was marked by debt slavery and gross abuse by the land-owning arisotocracy. Athens was about to rip itself asunder. Solon, in response, passed two laws: debt forgiveness and an end to the condition that participation in politics was by birthright only. As we shall see in
Prometheus Bound, both of these reforms not only sum up the imagination of the polis at large, but they dovetail beautifully with what has been elicited in prior diaries: the balance of the divine and human in Parmenides, the equality and mutual respect of the powers in Empedocles and Anaximander, and the statement that `man is the measure' from Protagoras.
From the opening of Prometheus Bound it is clear that one of the principle political targets Aeschylus sights is tyranny. Soon after Prometheus is chained to the rock by an unwilling Hephaestus, he declares to his audience of Okeanids: "These were the services I rendered to this tyrant and these pains the payment he has given me in requital. This is a sickness rooted and inherent in the nature of tyranny: that he that holds it does not trust his friends". To this end Zeus is portrayed as a young, brash tyrant who flies in the face of the `old ways' and disregards the relationship between his actions and his own fate (line 518). Every interaction between Prometheus and other interlocutors centers on Zeus' rapacity. The play works itself to its pinnacle in the encounter of Io and Prometheus, one immortal and one mortal, both of whom have suffered the greatest duress and injustice at the hands of Zeus. Likewise, this mirrors the empirical, historical level: A partial purpose of the Solonian reforms and the eventual democracy developed after Cleisthenes was to insure that Athens would never again come under the rule of a tyrant. Solon himself stepped down from power because he knew of its corrupting influence and did not think even one such as himself immune. However, to warn against tyranny and present the negative consequences of its injustice does not necessarily align one with democratic ideas. To find these, we must look at the structure of the relationship between humanity, Prometheus, and Zeus.
If we are to say that Zeus here is the tyrant, then we can also say that not just the gods, but humanity too are his subjects (that Io becomes a focus of the play is important in this regard) -- and Prometheus is the great liberator who concomitantly educates, frees, and promotes the interests of the lowly mass of humanity while taming the blind whim of the tyrant. The play delicately wends its way through these two necessities, the elevation of humanity and humbling of Zeus, all in the course of producing a meditation on the nature of the dispensation of justice and an appeal to the archaic conception of justice in which each is equally requited their due by necessity. The action, of course, revolves around the punishment of Prometheus for actions against the immortals, and in particular the will of Zeus, whose intention for humanity was "to blot the race out and create a new". When Zeus came to power, humanity was indeed a lowly creature:
But man's tribulation, that I would have you hear -- how I found them mindless and gave them minds, made them masters of their wits. I will tell you this not as reproaching man, but to set forth the goodwill of my gifts. First they had eyes but had no eyes to see, and ears but heard not. Like shapes within a dream they dragged through their long lives and muddled all, haphazardly...
The utter destitution of humanity is not just a common thread in the many permutations of the Prometheus myth, but also a fundamental condition for tragedy itself. As Hans Blumenberg notes in Work on Myth, the very question of whether or not humanity is worthy of existence given its utter destitution and inevitable fate [death] is not only the central theme, but the principle precondition of all Greek tragedy. "[Greek] tragedy has become fundamentally impossible when it cannot be better for anyone or anything not to have existed or not to exist any longer." Such is the movement that happens with the coming to be of metaphysics. Here again, we have shades of the charis cult, and the rich polytheistic tapestry underlying Greek humanism. It is also the key to understanding the manner in which it differs from modern humanism: what is the worth of human life? What value does it have? How do we apportion and recognize that value in social life? As Blumenberg contends, with the onset of metaphysics, there develops a cosmology in which the existence of everything is preconditioned by a universal structure. The value of the existence of humanity can no longer be a question, and hence the need for consolation [art] against the horrible truth of this question disappears. Likewise with monotheistic religions, the question can never arise because the divine does not express apathy for human destitution. One can clearly see in this the impetus for Nietzsche's later condemnation of metaphysics and monotheism as the great lies of history -- lies which cover the horrible human truth that `maybe it would be better not to have existed at all' -- a truth that when reflected upon opens the possibility for valuative thinking. This `valuative' thinking is also the ground of the Greek version of humanism. Enough of this - back to theplay.
To quell the tribulation of humanity, Prometheus bestows upon them numerous gifts (numerous to the point that the Okeanids hint that he may "help mortals beyond due occasion"). These gifts fall into two distinct categories: On the one hand he gives them fire, accompanied by all of the myriad technical arts listed in verses 436-505. These gifts enable humanity to overcome and shape the nature that surrounds them. On the other hand, he gives them the gift of blind hope so that they will remain forever ignorant of the inevitable fate of death and always look toward the future against this very fate. The meaning of the latter gift is a bit difficult to pin down. As Blumenberg mentions, Plato's reading of this idea in the Gorgias asserts that this sowing of blind hopes is actually a trick by Zeus, our tyrant, so that "they [humanity] will not be able to falsify the true characters of their soul". On this suggestion, the sowing of blind hopes, which superficially would seem to free humanity from the thought of external coercion [death], actually disguises a means by which Zeus is able to secure more firmly his reign as tyrant and subordinate more ferociously his subjects. However, David Greene, in his introduction to Prometheus Unbound, makes the suggestion that this blind hope (once again the tricky word ate in the Greek) is actually more akin to reason than folly, when taken in conjunction with the first class of gifts. The technical arts, in conjunction with the lack of knowledge of death, enables humanity to forge for itself a future -- it is able to project itself beyond its immediate empirical conditions, i.e. it is able to reason. On this reading, far from binding humanity more firmly to the arbitrary will of Zeus, Prometheus' gift of folly turns out to be the gift of rational thought, whereby humanity is able to project of its own accord its own specific futurity into the antagonistic world which stands against it. Humanity no longer conceptually requires the sovereign will of a god directing its destiny and enacting its justice, but rather humanity is elevated to the point where its own will directs, organizes, and yes, judges itself in utter disregard for an ironbound notion of fate. A parallel sentiment is found in Aeschylus' Eumenides. Here we find Athena setting up a judicial court composed of human beings who, against the will of the Furies, judge Orestes to be innocent of crimes against nature. Though it is Athena which sanctions this court, and the Furies must be transformed into its guardians [the Eumenides] in order to satiate their wrath, the very foundation of the court serves to free humanity of its dependence upon external regulation with respect to its destiny. It now has the means by which justice can be served universally among the people without recourse to the assurances of various deities. Given this, I think the latter reading of the gift of folly to be the intended one. In fact, an argument could be made that Prometheus' punishment stems not from mere theft of material goods from the gods, but rather from this very emancipation of humanity from necessary recourse to the gods in their concrete everydayness -- Prometheus steals not fire, but humanity from the gods. As Hephaestus states at the opening "such is the reward you reap for your man-loving disposition. For you, a God, feared not the anger of the Gods, but gave honors to mortals beyond what is just".
As another aside, in a similar way, with Hesiod's Prometheus myth we find that woman, given to humanity as a curse because of Prometheus' actions, represents hope both literally (in the first version) and metaphorically (in the second): metaphorically, though she looses all evil upon humanity with the opening of the `jar' [given Greek anatomy, this is likely a literal reference to the womb], she also looses hope, which sustains humanity through the evils it faces; literally, though she is simply another `empty stomach' to fill and causes men to labour too heavily (in both agriculture and reproduction), she sows hope in the reproduction of offspring who will both aid the father in labour and inherit and carry on family honour. Thus a rather interesting suggestion emerges -- the gift of `woman' in the Hesiodic cosmology is actually the gift of reason. `Woman' symbolizes reason for the Greeks -- it is to `her' that humanity owes its futurity, and thus it is `her' which inspires the greatest fear in the literature. Such is the basis of Hegel's eventual reading of Antigone. In Phenomelogy, Hegel essentially sees the symbolic image of `woman' as the `truth' of Greek culture which cannot be fully actualized within that culture, necessitating the dialectical fall of that culture. Irigaray's musings on Plato's metaphor of the cave in Speculum are very similar to this idea as well. Once I have completed this series, I will likely return to this issue with my own reading of Sophocles' masterpiece.
Anyhow, we have, for the second time, reached an interesting suggestion -- that Prometheus' action was unjust in that the surplus given humanity plundered the gods of their due. Such would seemingly constitute injustice along the lines that I have previously developed. However, Prometheus' seeming injustice is mitigated by structures he rebels against. Prometheus says of Zeus, "I know that he is savage: and his justice a thing he keeps by his own standards". The justice Prometheus claims is justice against the excesses of Zeus, who, as tyrant, seemingly stands beyond retribution. Zeus not only oversteps his bounds in the dispensation of justice among immortals, but further, in the case of Io and, in fact, the whole of the species, extends unjust action towards humanity. Prometheus' plunder -- on the level of honor -- is not of `the gods' in general, but of Zeus in particular. The figure of Hephaestus again is important in this regard. The stealing of fire and the technical arts is not a theft from Zeus proper, but a theft from Hephaestus. If anyone, it is Hephaestus who should claim retribution. Yet Hephaestus has "not the heart to bind violently a God who is my kin here on this wintery cliff". From the outset then the issue of petty theft and honour due `the gods' in general becomes unimportant. What is centrally at stake is a claim between Zeus and humanity -- a claim which Prometheus takes upon himself to ejudicate as representative of humanity; and in order to rectify the situation, he must level the playing field. He accomplishes half of this process through the emancipation of humanity, an action which positions him to complete the process through his imprisonment.
That Prometheus be in the position of prisoner is imperative for the humbling of Zeus, for this humbling must take place through a negotiation -- one which could not take place were Prometheus free, due to the disequilibrium of hierarchy among the gods. Prometheus must be positioned such that he can withhold knowledge against Zeus' will. Early on in the play we learn that according to the prophesy of Prometheus' mother, Zeus will, in one of his myriad affairs with human women, father a son greater than himself and suffer the same fate of his forefathers. As Zeus' prisoner, Prometheus' forbearance in withholding the knowledge of that union from Zeus against the many tortures to which he is subjected acts to bring about the negotiation in which Zeus is humbled. As Prometheus holds forth, Zeus is put in the position whereby not only his power is shaken by the external threat of the unknown prophesy, but also by the internal threat of Prometheus' unflappable will. Zeus must himself bow before Prometheus' will if he is to preserve his reign over the immortals -- in order to maintain his reign he must, by an interesting reversal, abdicate his supremacy. As to what is eventually negotiated, we are in the dark. It is clear that it is not Prometheus' release, as such is undertaken by Io's child Heracles, though it is possible that Heracles' act was overlooked as punishable because of the negotiation. This we know from the extant play: "But who will free you against Zeus' will? That must be one of your own descendants." Unfortunately the other two plays in the trilogy have been lost and we can only speculate as to how it is that Zeus bows to the will of Prometheus, and by extension, humanity.
An interesting speculation as to the terms of this negotiation is put forward by Lloyd-Jones in The Justice of Zeus. If we look briefly at the Prometheus myth in Plato's Protagoras, we find that it is Zeus who confers aidos and dike upon humanity so that they can live together in communities. Such a concession would certainly not be forthcoming from Zeus as he is portrayed in the first play of the Prometheia, for Zeus is determined to do away with the species altogether. Given Prometheus' disposition toward humanity, and given that he doesn't have to bargain with Zeus directly for his own release (though possibly indirectly for Heracles' pardon), Lloyd-Jones suggests that "surely some account of mankind must have come into the settlement in question". This suggestion further leads Lloyd-Jones to propose the third play to be The Women of Aetna as opposed to Prometheus Firekindler, for the former play was written "as an omen of a good life for the citizens". The good life of the citizen would be the direct result of the concessions given Prometheus and humanity in exchange for the knowledge preventing Zeus' fated downfall. This is mere speculation, however, his suggestion that the negotiation between Zeus and Prometheus must have taken into account humanity coupled with the addition of the gift of aidos and dike from Zeus that we find in the Protagoras version would lead one to believe that Prometheus withheld the name of the fated union from Zeus until he conceded to humanity what it needed most to survive -- the ability to live peacefully within a community and dispense justice amongst themselves. If this is the case, then Prometheus' task as mediator is accomplished through his withholding of knowledge while imprisoned and tortured -- humanity has been assured of its worth through techne and the political art, and Zeus has been made to bow before both the will of another immortal and the will of the mortals themselves -- an act by which he abdicates his absolute supremacy in order to preserve his rule. Prometheus effects the conditions necessary for justice, in the archaic sense, to be served properly. The parties in question are now equals through coeval promotion and demotion, through appraisal of the proper worth of both parties and redistribution of the honour due each.
When taken politically, this play mirrors precisely the historical fall of aristocracy to democracy. Zeus here represents the brutal, exploitative aristocracy whose excesses are the bain of the poor and destitute, while humanity represents the poor and destitute peasants, whose worth has yet to be properly appraised and who suffer possible extinction at the hands of the merciless. With the democratic reforms, concessions are made to the disenfranchised while the power of the aristocrats is concomitantly eroded and they are forced into legal accountability for their actions. The law becomes open to all and is equally applied to all. Likewise Zeus is subject to responsibility for his actions against mortal and immortal alike, and the form that this responsibility takes resembles, one might say, a legal negotiation in which concessions are gained through bargaining. Hence the Athenian court becomes the bargaining table at which the disputes of the poor and the aristocrats are negotiated. Democracy then, via Aeschylus, appeals to the archaic notion of justice, one which stands above all, even Zeus, and necessitates the recognition of the equal worth of each participant in the community -- to each their due. Further, this justice is served in the form of the granting of concessions (gifts) that accord to the proper worth due those who negotiate for them and is guaranteed through equality before the law in the Athenian court -- the `blind, automatic force of moira' becomes manifest as the possibility of a universally served justice in the court of law.
When preparing this, I couldn't help but see parallels to the current state of the world. Be it the imperialism of US foreign policy or the machinations of the corporate elite, we are again poised at a kairos, the point at which a disease can either be cured or will kill. It is the disease of aristocracy, the disease of inequality, the disease absolute power. Maybe we need to look back to some of these early texts to find our way again...
For my next edition, I'll be moving on the the exemplar of our current disease: Plato and the idea of `something in virtue of itself'.