The Fall of A Republic

The Fall of A Republic

There was once a republic, built in the image of Plato’s. A republic where the guardians rule over all with their wisdom, with their knowledge of the forms; A republic where the auxiliary enforces the guardian’s rule with their fortitude, their passionate spirit; A republic where the producers sustained the auxiliary and the guardians for the republic’s sake, with their temperance. The republic is a soul of a man. A spirit where wisdom rules over passions as passions rule over appetite. A spirit sustained from both ends – the world of forms and the world of physicality.

The republic was not always such a Platonic one, in fact the republic started as an appetitive city. As the city grows, so too does his appetite. To meet his appetite, a new class of citizens arises, a military class, the auxiliary. The auxiliary waged wars after wars, to gather up lands for cultivation, for the producers to work on. They conquered some territories, gave up others that he deemed unworthy. Some wars were won, others were lost, but in everything there was chaos, both in victory and defeat. It was as the days when the Olympians fought against the Titans, when there were no gods, only wrestlers. Amidst this chaos, the citizens gathered, the citizens debated, the citizens deliberated. It was not right for the military to wage indiscriminate and all-directional wars, the citizens concluded. Thus, a new class is necessary for the survival and welfare of the city. But what class should they create? What else is necessary? For they had food, they had iron, timber, stones, weapons, houses, great halls, temples and palaces; they had colonies, protectorates, allies, they had all the things of this world. They need all the things of another.

And then came the prophet, the wandering philosopher, the teacher that taught them knowledge of another world. A world consisting of true goodness, true justice, true beauty. A world of forms. A certain group of people, the philosopher’s hearers and pupils emerged as the new class, a class of guardians of the city. The guardians ruled the city as the republic, with the wisdom, the knowledge of this world of forms. They ruled with a strong hand, imposing wisdom on the auxiliary, who then imposes their might on the producers. The republic at last was stable, as wisdom rules over passions, and passions rule over appetite.

But the republic fell…

The republic fell at the sight of a tree. A tree of beauty, a gift from the lady of wisdom and war, the virgin lady Athena daughter of Zeus Polieos. Why did Athena gifted the republicans with this gift? A gift that could far surpass anything that Poseidon could give? Perhaps it was because Athena deemed it good for the city to build itself up with the beautiful fruit and wood and oil of this tree. Maybe then, the republic would not only be wise and mighty and prosperous but would be beautiful and pleasant. Perhaps it was a gift out of her generosity, perhaps it was a trial out of her envy. Perhaps, Athena was challenging the republic’s guardians, a council of Arachnes in her sight, for their hubristic wisdom of a world beyond hers, of the forms that sustained Athena’s own being. No matter the intention, the republic fell nonetheless, long gone was its wisdom, long gone was its might. Or perhaps the republic was never wise nor mighty in the first place.

But the tree was truly the incarnation of the beauty herself, of the Platonic, immaterial, form of ideal beauty, pure and untainted. Or at least that is what the tree seems to the guardians. Or perhaps it was not the tree, but the smile or the laughter of the tree. A smile purer than a child’s, than an unborn child’s. A laughter that is as if it escaped the fall of man, untainted by Sin. A smile that hints at the world beyond this physicality. A smile truly from the world of forms. Alas, it is impossible for this to be a trial from Athena, for this is truly beyond her, beyond the gods of Olympus, beyond Zeus! If it be a trial, it certainly is not from Olympus. It must be from the world of forms, if… This tree was in Eden, certainly so. Is it the tree of knowledge? Is it the tree of life? Or perhaps it was a tree that was cast out of Eden, yet somehow uncursed? For the beauty of Eden was in this one tree, the gift of Athena.

How can a republic stand before such a tree. Even Adam fell for a lesser one! If it be a trial, the republic has failed. For once again I tell you, the republic fell at the sight of the tree. All its structures crumbled, and even though the knowledge of the forms remains, the social order was no longer in place. The guardians, begged the city to allow them to be producers instead of guardians so that they could cultivate the tree. So too did the auxiliary, for they could not be passionate about any other thing other than to be stripped of their military might, so they could be cultivators of this tree. How can a republic stand when its leaders forgo the whole concept of duty! Wisdom cried out in the streets together with justice, but the guardians are deaf now and the auxiliary are blind. Certainly, the republic was not as wise and mighty as it perceived itself to be. For it was certainly not wiser than Athena, who gave it a gift or a trial. For it was certainly weaker than Athena, or even weaker than a tree. Alas, what might the future hold for this republic? Can it rebuild itself up, set up its just social order once again, together as it grows together with the tree within its borders? Or would the tree not have it? I pray to the God of gods, the God of forms, that the republic and the tree may rise together, building each other up, bring about the truly just order, for the love and glory of the God of gods, the God of forms, and not for the republic’s.