Book V, 465–472

465a “And this law, too, is sound,” I said. “If anyone should be angry with another, by satisfying his anger in this way he would be less likely to go on to more serious feuds.”

“Certainly.”

“An elder, moreover, will be authorized to rule and discipline all who are younger.”

“Clearly.”

“And, as is natural, no younger person will ever attempt to use force against an elder, or strike him, unless the rulers command it. Nor, I imagine, will he dishonor him in any other way. For two guards will be enough to restrain him: fear and reverence—reverence preventing him from laying hands 465b on one who might be his parent, and fear that others will come to the victim’s aid, some as sons, others as brothers, others as fathers.”

“That is how it follows,” he said.

“So the laws will ensure that the men live at peace with one another in every respect?”

“At profound peace.”

“And if these men have no factions among themselves, there is no danger that the rest of the city will ever be divided against them or against itself.”

“None at all.”

“As for the least of the evils they will escape, I shrink 465c from even mentioning them, they are so unseemly: the poor flattering the rich, the hardships and suffering involved in raising children and making money to support a necessary household of servants—borrowing some of it, disowning some obligations, gathering the money by every means, depositing it with wives and servants, and entrusting them with its management. What they endure over all this, my friend, is obvious, ignoble, and not worth recounting. 465d”

“Obvious even to a blind man,” he said.

“They will be rid of all these troubles, and live a life more blessed than the life for which Olympic victors are called blessed.”

“How so?”

“The victors are counted happy for a small fraction of what our people possess. Their victory is finer, and their upkeep at public expense more complete. For their victory saves the entire city; both they and their children receive food and all else life requires, and from their own city they receive honors 465e while alive and a fitting burial when they die.”

“Splendid honors indeed,” he said.

“Do you remember,” I said, “how earlier someone—I cannot remember who—reproached us for failing to make the guardians happy,

466a when they might have everything belonging to the citizens but have nothing? And we said that we would consider that point later if occasion arose; for the present we were making the guardians into guardians, and the city as happy as we could, rather than shaping one class within it for happiness alone.”

“I remember,” he said.

“Now, then, if the life of the auxiliaries seems far finer and better than that of Olympic victors, does it resemble 466b the life of shoemakers, or of other craftsmen, or of farmers?”

“I think not,” he said.

“Yet what I said then is fair to say here as well: if a guardian tries to be happy in such a way that he ceases to be a guardian, and if a life so moderate, secure, and, as we maintain, excellent does not satisfy him, but some foolish and childish notion of happiness seizes him and drives 466c him, by the power he holds, to appropriate everything in the city, he will learn that Hesiod was truly wise when he said that the half is somehow greater than the whole.”

“If he takes my advice,” he said, “he will remain with this life.”

“So you agree,” I said, “to the sharing between women and men that we have described—sharing in education, children, and the guardianship of the other citizens? Both when they remain in the city and when they go to war, they must guard together 466d and hunt together like hounds, sharing everything in every way as far as they can; in doing so, they will act for the best, and not against the nature of female and male, which fits them for partnership with each other?”

“I agree,” he said.

“Then what remains,” I said, “is to determine whether such a partnership can arise among human beings as it does among other animals, and in what way it is possible.”

“You have anticipated,” he said, “what I was about to ask. 466e”

“As for their conduct in war,” I said, “I think it is clear how they will fight.”

“How?” he asked.

“They will campaign together and take to war those among their children who are strong enough, so that, like the children of other craftsmen, they may observe the work they will have to perform once they are grown.

467a Besides watching, they will serve and assist in everything to do with war, and attend to their fathers and mothers. Have you not noticed what happens in the crafts? The sons of potters spend a long time serving and observing before they put their hands to pottery.”

“Indeed.”

“Should those craftsmen train their children more carefully than the guardians train theirs, through experience and observation of their proper work?”

“That would be absurd,” he said.

“And every animal fights especially fiercely 467b when its offspring are present.”

“That is so. But there is no small danger, Socrates, that if our people suffer a defeat, as often happens in war, they will lose their children as well as themselves and leave the rest of the city unable to recover.”

“You speak the truth,” I said. “But do you think our first obligation is to arrange that they never face any danger?”

“Not at all.”

“And if they must run a risk, should it not be one that will make them better if they succeed?”

“Clearly. 467c”

“Do you think it makes so little difference, and is so little worth the risk, whether children who will become warriors observe warfare or not?”

“No; it makes a difference for the purpose you describe.”

“Then we must begin by making children spectators of war, while devising means to keep them safe. That will be well, will it not?”

“Yes.”

“In the first place,” I said, “their fathers, to the extent that human judgment permits, will not be ignorant but discerning about which 467d campaigns are dangerous and which are not.”

“That is likely,” he said.

“They will take them on some campaigns and avoid taking them on others.”

“Right.”

“And they will put in charge of them not the least capable commanders, I imagine, but men whose experience and age qualify them to be both leaders and tutors.”

“As they should.”

“But we shall say that many things have happened to many people contrary to expectation.”

“Indeed.”

“To meet such contingencies, my friend, we must give the children wings from their earliest years, so they can fly away if need be. 467e”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“We must put them on horseback as young as possible; once they have learned to ride, take them to watch on horses not spirited or combative but as swift of foot and easy to rein as can be found. Thus they will have the finest view of their own future work and, if necessary, the safest escape, following older guides.”

“I think you are right,” he said.

468a “Now what about war itself?” I asked. “How should your soldiers behave toward one another and toward the enemy? Does my view seem right to you, or not?”

“Tell me what it is,” he said.

“Should we not assign anyone among them who deserts his post, throws away his weapons, or commits some similar act of cowardice to the status of craftsman or farmer?”

“Certainly.”

“And should we not give anyone captured alive by the enemy as a gift to his captors, to do what they wish with their prize? 468b”

“Absolutely.”

“And the man who distinguishes himself and wins renown: should he not first be crowned on campaign by the youths and children serving with him, each in turn? Do you agree?”

“I do.”

“And be greeted with a clasp of the hand?”

“That too.”

“But I suppose you will not agree to this next thing,” I said.

“What is it?”

“That he should kiss and be kissed by each of them.”

“I agree most emphatically,” he said. “And I would add this to the law: 468c while they are on that campaign, no one he wishes to kiss may refuse him. That way, if he happens to love someone, male or female, he will be more eager to win the prize for valor.”

“Well said,” I replied. “We have already said that a good man will have more opportunities for marriage than others and be chosen for such unions more often, so that as many children as possible may be born from him.”

“So we have,” he said.

“And according to Homer, too, it is right to honor brave young men in this fashion. For Homer said that Ajax, when he distinguished himself in war, was honored 468d with ‘the long cuts of the chine,’ as a fitting tribute to one who is young and courageous, and one that strengthens him even as it honors him.”

“Exactly right,” he said.

“Then we shall follow Homer in this matter at least,” I said. “At sacrifices and all such occasions, according to the measure of their merit, we shall honor the brave with hymns and the tributes just mentioned, as well as with ‘seats of honor, cuts of meat, 468e and brimming cups,’ so that while we honor them, we also train our good men and women.”

“An excellent proposal,” he said.

“Very well. Of those who die on campaign after distinguishing themselves, shall we not say first that they belong to the golden race?”

“Above all.”

“And shall we not believe Hesiod when he says that after some of that race die,

469a ‘They become pure spirits dwelling on earth, noble, warding off evil, guardians of mortal men’?”

“We certainly shall.”

“Then we shall ask the god how we must bury these godlike and divine people, and what special rites to use, and bury them in whatever way he directs.”

“How could we do otherwise?”

“And thereafter we shall tend their tombs 469b and revere them as those of divine spirits? And we shall establish the same practice when someone dies of old age or in another way, if he was judged outstandingly good during his life?”

“That would be just,” he said.

“Now, how will our soldiers treat their enemies?”

“In what respect?”

“First, on enslavement: do you think it right for Greeks to enslave Greek cities, or should they prevent others from doing so as far as they can, and make it their practice to spare the Greek 469c people, guarding against enslavement by foreigners?”

“By every measure,” he said, “it is better to spare them.”

“Then they themselves must own no Greek slave and must advise other Greeks to do likewise?”

“Certainly,” he said. “That way they would be more likely to turn against the foreigners and leave one another alone.”

“And what of stripping the dead after a victory, except for their weapons?” I said. “Is that proper? Does it not give cowards an excuse 469d to avoid the fighting, as though they were doing some necessary duty when they crouch over a corpse? Have not many armies already been destroyed by such plundering?”

“Indeed they have.”

“And does it not seem servile and greedy to despoil a corpse, and the mark of a petty, womanish mind to think that the dead body is the enemy, when the enemy has flown away and left behind what he fought with? Do you think those 469e who do this behave any differently from dogs that rage against the stones thrown at them but do not touch the one who threw them?”

“Not in the least,” he said.

“Then we must put an end to stripping the dead and to preventing their bodies from being recovered?”

“We must indeed, by Zeus,” he said.

“Nor shall we carry weapons to the temples as offerings—particularly weapons taken from Greeks—if we care at all

470a about good relations with the other Greeks. Indeed, we should fear bringing such things from our own kin into a sanctuary as a pollution, unless the god directs otherwise.”

“Exactly right,” he said.

“What about ravaging Greek land and burning houses? How do you think your soldiers should treat their enemies in these matters?”

“I would gladly hear your judgment,” he said.

“My own judgment,” I said, “is that they should do neither, 470b but should take away the harvest of that year. Shall I tell you why?”

“Certainly.”

“It seems to me that, just as there are two names, war and civil strife, so there are two distinct things, arising from two distinct kinds of division. By these two I mean, on the one hand, what belongs to us and is akin to us; on the other, what is foreign and strange. Enmity among kindred is called civil strife; enmity with foreigners is called war.”

“What you say is not at all unreasonable,” he said. 470c

“Consider whether this next point is reasonable too. I maintain that the Greek people are their own kin and family, but foreign and strange to the non-Greek peoples.”

“Well said,” he replied.

“So when Greeks fight non-Greeks, and when non-Greeks fight Greeks, we shall say they wage war and are enemies by nature, and call this enmity war. But when Greeks do such a thing to Greeks, we shall say that they are friends by nature, that in this condition Greece is sick and divided, 470d and call this enmity civil strife.”

“I agree,” he said, “that we should regard it so.”

“Consider, then, what happens in what everyone now acknowledges to be civil strife. When a city is divided and each side ravages the other’s fields and burns its houses, the strife seems accursed, and neither party seems to love its city—for otherwise neither would dare to strip the land that nourished and mothered them. But it would be a measured course for the victors to take away the harvest 470e of the defeated, with the thought that one day they will be reconciled and will not be at war forever.”

“That way of thinking,” he said, “is far more humane than the other.”

“Well, then,” I said, “will the city you are founding not be a Greek city?”

“It must be,” he said.

“And will its people not be good and humane?”

“Very much so.”

“And lovers of their fellow Greeks? Will they not regard Greece as their own home and share in the sanctuaries of the other Greeks?”

“Most certainly.”

471a “Then they will regard a dispute with Greeks, as with kin, as civil strife, and will not even call it war?”

“No.”

“And they will conduct their dispute with reconciliation in view?”

“Certainly.”

“They will discipline them with goodwill, not punish them to enslave or destroy them, acting as correctors, not as enemies.”

“So they will,” he said.

“Being Greeks, then, they will not ravage Greece or burn homes, nor will they claim that everyone in each city is their enemy—men, women, and children alike—but only the few who are responsible for the dispute. 471b And for all these reasons they will be unwilling to devastate their land, since most of its people are friends, or to destroy their houses. They will pursue the dispute only until those responsible are compelled by the suffering of the innocent to pay the penalty.”

“I agree,” he said, “that our citizens should deal with their opponents in this way, but should treat non-Greeks as Greeks now treat one another.”

“Then shall we make this a law for the guardians too: neither to ravage land 471c nor to burn houses?”

“Let us,” he said. “This law and the ones before it are sound.”

“But it seems to me, Socrates, that if anyone lets you talk about such matters, you will never return to the question you pushed aside before all this began: how this constitution could come into being, and by what means it might be possible. I grant that if it did come into being, all would be well with the city where it arose; and I can add what you have omitted: that its citizens would fight 471d their enemies superbly because they would be least likely to abandon one another, knowing and calling one another by these names: brothers, fathers, sons. And if the women joined the campaign as well, either in the same ranks or posted behind the men, to strike fear into the enemy and offer aid if ever the need arose, I know they would be invincible from every quarter. I see, too, how many benefits at home you have left unmentioned. 471e But since I agree that they would have all these benefits and ten thousand more if this constitution came about, say no more about them. Let us now try to convince ourselves of this very thing: that it is possible, and how it is possible. We can leave the rest aside.”

472a “You have made a sudden assault on my argument,” I said, “and have no mercy on my hesitation. Perhaps you do not know that after I have barely escaped two waves, you are bringing upon me the greatest and most difficult of the three. Once you have seen and heard it, you will readily forgive me for having good reason to hesitate and fear to state and examine so astonishing a proposal.”

“The more you say things like that,” he replied, “the less likely we are 472b to release you from explaining how this constitution can come into being. Speak, then, and delay no longer.”

“First,” I said, “we must remember that we came to this point in our search for the nature of justice and injustice.”

“We must, but what follows?” he asked.

“Nothing, except this: if we find what justice is, shall we demand that the just man differ from justice itself in no respect, but be in every way exactly as justice 472c is? Or shall we be content if he comes as close to it as possible and has a greater share in it than anyone else?”

“We shall be content with that,” he said.

“It was as a model, then,” I said, “that we sought what justice itself is, what a perfectly just man would be like if he came into existence, and likewise what injustice is and what the most unjust man would be like. We sought to look at them and at how they appear to us with regard to happiness and its opposite, so that we would have to agree, concerning ourselves too, that whoever most resembles 472d either of them will receive the most similar share of that one’s lot. We did not do it to prove that such men could actually exist.”

“What you say is true,” he replied.

“Do you think a painter would be any less good for painting a model of the most beautiful person and rendering every feature adequately in his picture, if he could not prove that such a man could exist?”

“By Zeus, I do not,” he said.

“And were we not also,” I said, “making a model 472e in speech of a good city?”

“Certainly.”

“Do you think our account is any less sound because we cannot prove that a city could be governed in the way we described?”

“Not at all,” he said.

“That, then,” I said, “is the truth of it. But if, to oblige you, I must also make every effort to show how and under what conditions it might be most nearly possible, grant me once again the same points for this demonstration.”

“What points?”

465a “This law is right for another reason too,” I said. “If one person gets angry with another, satisfying that anger in this way will make him less likely to start a more serious fight.”

“Certainly.”

“And every older person will have the authority to direct and punish anyone younger.”

“Obviously.”

“And a younger person won't try to force an older person to do anything, or strike one, unless the rulers order it. That seems likely. I don't think he'll show disrespect in any other way either. Two strong guards will stop him: fear and respect. Respect will keep him from laying hands on someone he regards as a 465b parent. Fear will remind him that if he harms someone, others will come to that person's aid: some as sons, some as brothers, and some as fathers.”

“That follows,” he said.

“So the laws will keep the men at peace with one another in every respect?”

“At considerable peace.”

“And if these men don't quarrel among themselves, there's no real danger that the rest of the city will split against them or against one another.”

“No, there isn't.”

“I hesitate 465c even to mention the smallest troubles they would avoid, since they are so unworthy of discussion: poor people flattering the rich; the need and hardship people face while raising children and earning money to support their servants; borrowing some money, denying they owe other amounts, and somehow getting still more, then putting it in the hands of their wives and servants to manage. You know, my friend, all the troubles people go through over such matters. They're obvious, undignified, and hardly worth talking about. 465d”

“Obvious even to a blind person,” he said.

“They'll be free of all these troubles. They'll live a life happier than the one people praise Olympic victors for living.”

“How?”

“Olympic victors are considered happy because they have a small part of what our guardians will have. The guardians' victory is greater, and the support they receive from public funds is more complete. Their victory preserves the whole city. Both they and their children get food and everything else they need to live. They receive honors 465e from their city while alive, and after death they receive a fitting burial.”

“Those are fine rewards indeed,” he said.

“Do you remember,” I said, “that earlier someone—I forget who—criticized us for not making the guardians happy?

466a He said they could have everything the citizens owned, but would own nothing. We replied that we would look at that question later if it came up. For now, we were making guardians into guardians and making the city as happy as we could. We weren't focusing on a single group in the city and making just that group happy. Remember?”

“I remember,” he said.

“So now that the auxiliaries' life appears far better and finer than the life of Olympic victors, does it resemble the life of shoemakers 466b or other craftspeople, or that of farmers?”

“I don't think so,” he said.

“Still, I should repeat what I said then. Suppose a guardian tries to become happy in a way that means he is no longer a guardian. Suppose the moderate, secure life we say is best won't satisfy him. Instead, a foolish, childish idea of happiness takes hold of him and drives him 466c to use his power to claim everything in the city as his own. Then he'll understand that Hesiod was truly wise when he said that half is, in a way, more than the whole.”

“If he takes my advice,” he said, “he'll stick with this life.”

“Then you agree,” I said, “to the partnership between women and men that we've described? They will share education, children, and the work of guarding the other citizens. Whether they stay in the city or go to war, women must guard and 466d hunt alongside men, like female dogs alongside males. They must share everything as far as possible. Doing this will be best, and it won't go against the natural relationship between female and male, which allows them to share these activities.”

“I agree,” he said.

“What remains,” I said, “is to decide whether people can actually have this partnership, as other animals can, and if so, how.”

“You've just anticipated the question I was about to ask,” he said. 466e

“As for warfare,” I said, “I think it's clear how they'll fight.”

“How?” he asked.

“They'll go to war together. They'll also bring along the children old enough to manage it, so that, like the children of other craftspeople, they can watch the work they'll have to do when they grow up.

467a Besides watching, they'll help and assist in everything connected with war and look after their fathers and mothers. Haven't you noticed what happens in the crafts? Potters' children, for instance, spend a long time helping and watching before they begin making pots themselves.”

“Of course.”

“Should those people take greater care to teach their children through experience and observation than the guardians take to teach theirs?”

“That would be absurd,” he said.

“Besides, every animal fights especially hard 467b when its offspring are present.”

“That's true. But there's a serious risk, Socrates. If the guardians suffer a defeat, as often happens in war, and lose their children as well as themselves, the rest of the city may be unable to recover.”

“You're right,” I said. “But do you think our first duty is to prepare for a life that never involves any risk?”

“Not at all.”

“Then, if we must take a risk, shouldn't it be for something that will make them better if they succeed?”

“Clearly. 467c”

“Do you think that watching warfare makes so little difference to children who will become fighters that it isn't worth the risk?”

“No. It makes a difference for the reason you gave.”

“Then we should begin by letting the children watch the fighting, while devising ways to keep them safe. That would be good, wouldn't it?”

“Yes.”

“First,” I said, “their fathers will be as capable as people can be of judging 467d which campaigns are dangerous and which aren't. They won't be ignorant.”

“That's likely,” he said.

“They'll take the children on some campaigns and keep them away from others.”

“Right.”

“And the people they put in charge of the children won't be the least capable ones. They'll be people whose age and experience qualify them to lead and teach.”

“That makes sense.”

“But we'll say that many people have faced unexpected events.”

“Certainly.”

“So, my friend, we must give children wings from the start, so they can fly away if they need to. 467e”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“We must put them on horseback while they're still very young. Once they've learned to ride, we'll take them to watch on horseback. Their horses should not be spirited or eager to fight, but as fast and easy to control as possible. This will give the children the best view of their future work. And if necessary, they'll be safest escaping by following their older leaders.”

“I think you're right,” he said.

468a “Now, what about conduct in war?” I asked. “How should the soldiers treat one another and their enemies? Does my view seem right to you?”

“Tell me what it is,” he said.

“If one of them deserts his post, throws away his weapons, or does something of that kind out of cowardice, shouldn't he be made a craftsman or a farmer?”

“Certainly.”

“And if one is captured alive by the enemy, shouldn't we give him to his captors as a gift, to do as they please with their catch? 468b”

“Yes, indeed.”

“What about a soldier who fights exceptionally well and earns a good reputation? On the campaign, shouldn't each of the young men and children fighting alongside him take a turn crowning him? Or don't you think so?”

“I do.”

“And shake his hand?”

“That too.”

“But perhaps you won't agree with my next suggestion,” I said.

“What's that?”

“That each of them should kiss him and be kissed by him.”

“I agree most of all with that,” he said. “I'll even add this to the law: 468c for as long as they're on that campaign, no one may refuse a kiss from anyone the brave soldier wants to kiss. If he happens to be in love with someone, male or female, it will make him all the keener to earn honors for bravery.”

“Good,” I said. “We've already said that a good guardian will have more opportunities to marry than others and will be chosen for this more often, so that he can have as many children as possible.”

“Yes, we have,” he said.

“And Homer, too, gives us reason to honor young people who show such courage. Homer said that Ajax, after distinguishing himself in war, was honored ‘with the long cuts of the back.’ He considered that a fitting honor for a strong young man. It increases his strength 468d while rewarding him.”

“Exactly right,” he said.

“Then we'll follow Homer in this, at least,” I said. “At sacrifices and all similar occasions, we'll honor brave men and women according to their achievements. We'll give them songs of praise and the honors we've just mentioned, as well as seats of honor, cuts of meat, 468e and extra cups of drink. In this way, while we honor them, we'll also help them build their strength.”

“That's an excellent suggestion,” he said.

“Now, if someone dies on a campaign after winning a good reputation, shouldn't we first say that he belongs to the golden race?”

“Absolutely.”

“And shouldn't we accept what Hesiod says happens when people of that race die? He says:

469a ‘They become pure spirits who live on earth,good protectors from harm, guardians of mortal people.’”

“Yes, we should.”

“We'll ask the god how we should bury these divine, godlike people and what distinction to give them. Then we'll bury them in the way he directs.”

“Of course.”

“And from that point on we'll tend and revere their tombs as those of spirits. 469b We'll do the same for anyone who dies of old age or another cause, if that person was judged exceptionally good during life.”

“That would certainly be right,” he said.

“Now, how will our soldiers treat their enemies?”

“In what respect?”

“First, enslavement. Do you think it's right for Greeks to enslave Greek cities? Or should we do all we can to prevent others from doing so, and make it customary to spare the Greek people, because of the danger that non-Greeks will enslave them? 469c”

“It's far better to spare them in every way,” he said.

“So our people should own no Greek slaves themselves, and should advise other Greeks to follow that rule?”

“Certainly,” he said. “That way they'd turn their attention toward the non-Greeks, and leave one another alone.”

“Next,” I said, “after a victory, is it right to strip the dead of anything besides their weapons? Doesn't it give cowards an excuse not to confront living fighters? They can pretend to be doing something necessary while they bend over a dead body. Many armies have already been ruined by looting like that. 469d”

“They have indeed.”

“Isn't it mean and greedy to rob a dead body? And isn't it petty and foolish to regard the dead person's body as the enemy? The enemy has flown away and left behind the thing he used to fight with. How is that different 469e from dogs that get angry with the stones thrown at them but don't go after the person who threw them?”

“Not different at all,” he said.

“Then we must stop stripping the dead and obstructing the recovery of their bodies.”

“We certainly must, by Zeus,” he said.

“Nor should we bring weapons into temples as offerings, especially weapons taken from Greeks, if we care at all 470a about goodwill between Greeks. In fact, we should be afraid that bringing such things into a sanctuary from our own people would pollute it, unless the god says otherwise.”

“Exactly right,” he said.

“What about destroying Greek farmland and burning houses? How should our soldiers treat enemy property?”

“I'd like to hear what you think,” he said.

“I think they should do neither,” I said. “They should take only that year's crop. Shall I explain why? 470b”

“Please do.”

“It seems to me that just as there are two names, ‘war’ and ‘civil conflict,’ there are two different things, arising from two different kinds of disagreement. One happens between people who belong together and are related; the other happens between strangers and outsiders. Hostility between people who belong together is called civil conflict. Hostility between outsiders is called war.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he said. 470c

“Then see if this sounds reasonable too. I say that the Greek people are part of one family and related to one another, while non-Greeks are foreign to them and not related.”

“Good,” he said.

“When Greeks and non-Greeks fight one another, we'll say they're at war and are enemies by nature; their hostility should be called war. But when Greeks do that to other Greeks, we'll say they're friends by nature, and that Greece is sick and divided by civil conflict 470d in such a situation. That's what we should call their hostility.”

“I agree with treating it that way,” he said.

“Consider what happens in the kind of civil conflict we recognize today. When a city is divided and each side destroys the other's farmland and burns its houses, everyone sees the conflict as criminal. Neither side seems to love its city, or they would never dare to ravage the land that feeds them, their mother. But it's reasonable for the victors to take the defeated side's crops 470e while expecting a future reconciliation, not endless fighting.”

“That attitude is far less savage than the other,” he said.

“Now, isn't the city you're founding going to be Greek?” I asked.

“It must be,” he said.

“And won't its citizens be good and civilized?”

“Very much so.”

“Won't they love their fellow Greeks? Won't they consider Greece their own land and share the same holy places as other Greeks?”

“Of course they will.”

471a “Then they'll see a disagreement with Greeks as a conflict within their own family, and won't even call it war?”

“No, they won't.”

“And they'll fight with the expectation that they'll make peace?”

“Certainly.”

“So they'll correct their opponents with goodwill. They won't punish them to enslave or destroy them. They'll act as people correcting others, not as enemies.”

“Yes,” he said.

“As Greeks, then, they won't ravage Greece or burn homes. They won't declare everyone in any given city their enemy—men, women, and children alike. They'll consider only a few people their enemies, the ones responsible for the dispute. 471b Because most people there are their friends, they won't want to ravage the land or tear down houses. They'll limit the fighting until those responsible are forced to answer for it by the innocent people who are suffering.”

“I agree,” he said, “that our citizens should treat Greek opponents this way. They should treat non-Greeks as Greeks today treat one another.”

“Then let's add this law for the guardians too: they must not ravage land 471c or burn houses.”

“Let's add it,” he said. “This law and the earlier ones are good.”

“But Socrates, if someone lets you keep talking about such things, I think you'll never get back to the question you set aside before saying all this. Can this political system actually come into being? And how could it? I grant that if it did come into being, everything would go well for the city. I'll even add benefits you've left out. They would fight their enemies extremely well 471d because they'd be the last people to abandon one another. They would know and address one another as brothers, fathers, and sons. And if the women went on campaigns too, either in the same ranks or posted behind them, they could frighten the enemy and provide help whenever needed. I know they'd be unbeatable with that whole arrangement. I can also see how many benefits they would enjoy at home that you haven't mentioned. 471e I agree that all of this, and countless other good things, would follow if this political system came into being. So stop listing benefits. Let's try now to convince ourselves that it can happen and explain how. Leave the rest aside.”

472a “You've suddenly attacked my argument,” I said, “and have no sympathy for me while I'm hesitating. Perhaps you don't realize that I've barely escaped the first two waves, and now you're bringing the largest and most difficult wave of all down on me. Once you see and hear what it is, you'll understand why I hesitated and was afraid to state such a surprising claim, much less examine it.”

“The more you talk like that,” he said, “the less likely we are to let you off without explaining how this political system could come into being. Speak, and don't waste time. 472b”

“First,” I said, “we must remember how we got here: we were trying to discover what justice and injustice are.”

“We must. But what has that got to do with it?” he asked.

“Nothing yet. But if we discover what justice is, will we insist that a just person differ from justice itself in no way at all, and be just in every respect exactly as justice is? Or will it satisfy us if that person comes as close to it as possible and has a greater share of it than anyone else? 472c”

“The second would satisfy us,” he said.

“So we looked for justice itself, for what it is, and for the perfectly just person, if there could be one, and what he would be like. We looked for injustice and the most unjust person too. These were examples. By looking at how happy or unhappy each seemed to be, we'd have to agree that our own share of happiness would match theirs according to how closely we resembled them. 472d We weren't trying to prove that such people could actually exist.”

“That's true,” he said.

“Suppose a good painter paints a picture of what the most beautiful person would look like and gets every feature right, but can't prove that such a person could exist. Would that make the painter any less good?”

“No, by Zeus,” he said.

“Well, didn't we make an example 472e in words of a good city?”

“We did.”

“Would our account be any worse if we couldn't show that a city could be governed exactly as we described?”

“Certainly not,” he said.

“That's the truth of it,” I said. “But if, for your sake, I must also try to show how and under what conditions it could come closest to being possible, then please grant me the same points again for that demonstration.”

“What points?”