In both Exodus and the Republic, the idea of leaving a world of corruption to see the true light seems to take center stage. In Exodus, the Israelites are encouraged to abandon an indentured life resulting from materialism, as they are led out of Egypt into a “land of milk and honey” by God through Moses; the Republic stresses the importance of leaving behind the dark cave to live in the light of true wisdom among other enlightened citizens in the Kallipolis. It is my contention, therefore, that separation from a materialistic lifestyle are the necessitating elements of revolutionary change, which are achieved chiefly through relocation and the type of change in generations found in the Exodus and Plato’s Republic.
The first broad subject that needs to be brought to light is the abandonment of materialism that is necessary in invoking radical change. In both Exodus and the Republic, living within the realm materialism can be observed as being the biggest psychological hindrance to the formation of a just social order, as it deters the people of the Covenant Nation away from God (whom I will from this point refer to as YHWH for neutrality’s sake) while it threatens the unity and the integrity of the guardians and citizens of Kallipolis.
While general readings of the Exodus story would have one believe that the nation of Israel was enslaved by the sheer dominating imperialistic will of the Egyptians, it is important to firstly note that the Israelites willingly entered the land of Egypt as a free nation and were “fruitful… swarm[ing] and multiply[ing]… filling [the land of Egypt].” (Ex. 1:7) It is also hard to imagine that Israelites were forcefully enslaved by the Egyptians as it also records in Exodus that “the people of the sons of Israel is more numerous and vaster than [the Egyptians],” (Ex. 1:9) and given that the idea of superiority in numbers means anything, the Israelites could have easily fought back or resisted the hostile takeover. The fact that the Exodus fails to mention any instance or incidence of persuasive rebellion against the Egyptians suggests that the people of Israel indentured themselves to live as slaves to preserve their material claims in the land of Egypt. This idea holds true throughout many points in Exodus where the Israelites, despite YHWH’s numerous promises of “[bringing up the Israelites] from Egypt to a goodly and spacious land, to a land flowing with milk and honey,” (Ex. 3:8) choose to bite the hand that feeds them by disobeying and “murmuring” against him time after time.
Before exploring specific instances of the aforementioned disobedience and ungratefulness on part of the Israelites, it is important to understand the irony behind the fact that the minds of the Israelites were so clouded by materialistic wishes that they either a) failed to recognize YHWH’s promises of material rewards, or b) were not satisfied by the generous material bestowments of YHWH upon “his people”. It is first stated in Genesis chapter three that YHWH curried Israelites “favor in the eyes of Egypt,” so that they would not “leave empty-handed” upon flight from Egypt, but instead “despoiling” it of its riches (Ex. 3:21-22); this is reciprocated in Exodus 12, where it is documented that Israelites carried with them “ornaments of silver and ornaments of gold” which was “lent” to them by the Egyptians as a result of YHWH currying their favor. Thus upon their exodus from Egypt the Israelites, by effects of divine providence, plundered the wealth of their captors and were exacted retribution for their forced servitude (in the form of the infamous plagues struck upon the Egyptians); an extremely generous “repercussion” which even the NAACP has yet to achieve in America.
YHWH’s overcompensation to the people of Israel, despite their ignorance, is continually seen throughout the Israelite’s wandering in the wilderness. In response to the Israelites’ groveling in longing to “sit by fleshpots and eat [their] fill of bread” (Ex. 16:3), which as Professor Mathiowetz explained in lecture to be a “longing to long for meat”, YHWH sends actual meat and bread in the form of quails and manna (Ex. 16:13) thus going further than fulfilling their longings by giving them something far greater. Despite having been shown such unparalleled generosity, the Israelites continuously failed to see beyond the limitations of material wealth and continued testing his patience and ultimately incur his wrath.
Irony finds its way once again in Exodus as they commit the biggest blunder and what ultimately on the part of the Israelites is a reflection of their inability to separate themselves from material desire. The landmark event that chronicles that demonstrates the immunity of the material blindness within the Israelites comes through (although it is technically anachronistic) their breaking of the first and foremost covenant with YHWH, wherein they are told not to have “other gods besides [YHWH]” (Ex. 20:4). It is interesting to observe that not only do the Israelites break this covenant in spectacular fashion by belittling YHWH’s existence and rendering it inferior to that of a statue, but also that they choose to mold their own god out of the ultimate symbol of material wealth: gold.
The moral of the story on the Israelites and their need to abandon their material desires is not realized until YHWH’s punishment is taxed upon the Israelites. The lives of three thousand men are claimed as a result of the Israelite’s disobedience (Ex. 32:28) alongside YHWH’s decision to get rid of bad blood and start his “holy nation” anew by putting an end to them “on the way” to the land of milk and honey (Ex. 33:3). It is only at this point that we can conclude that in the case of Exodus, a failure to separate from the grasp of materialism prevented the Israelites in advancing from a nation of slaves into a Covenant Nation and the only remedy to undo the damage was by a generational change taking place.
Moving forward in time on to Greek times, Plato echoes the notion that the pursuit of material wealth cannot coincide with radical change, as it disrupts the unity of the city in its process of justice. Justice, according to Plato, is found in “doing one’s own work and not meddling with is not one’s own” (IV, 433a) in the ideal city of Kallipolis, and maintains that the true citizens should not concern themselves material possessions and private property as these only advance personal happiness, and not the happiness of the city as a whole.
As a part of defining and solidifying the existence of justice, Platonic Socrates conjures up a utopian environment where justice is able to full recourse among its inhabitants given the idea that “justice [within a] larger thing will be easier to discern” (II,369a). Thus introduced is the myth of the metals, which although Plato states its purpose to be a “simple noble lie” to discern inhabitants of the city their role in the social hierarchy (III, 414c), is actually an accurate portrayal of the division of class in the city itself. According to the myth of the metals, there are three different compositions of metals that can be found inside the inhabitants of Kallipolis (in a strictly symbolic, non-transmutative sense): those composed of gold, of silver, and of iron and bronze. The idea to be taken here is that the more precious the metal that composes the inhabitant, the more crucial its role in the city; this aforementioned metallic composition is supposedly meld into each inhabitant by the “Earth god” at the time of each man’s formation, which in non-metaphoric form can be understood as being the natural characteristics and composition that define the person.
Starting from the bottom up, the iron and bronze class of inhabitants in the myth of the metals refers to the “farmers and other craftsmen” who provide services such as a food, clothes, and commerce (III, 415a). Although these types of people are crucial to the survival of Kallipolis in that they form the basic definition of a city—that is, they form “a single settlement [of] partners and helpers” who co-exist to fulfill and consolidate the different needs that each possesses (II,369c)—since they take no part in the governing or the physical sustainment of the city, they cannot be considered “citizens” in the light of the Roman concept of the civitatan or the Greek polite since they neither practice civics or exercise politics.
The second class of inhabitants is made up of those that are composed of silver, whom Plato throughout the course of the Republic refers to as the “guardians”. Although their name rightfully implies that their job is to defend the city and maintain order, their existence in itself also guards the integrity of the city owing to the ideals they reflect. The upbringing of a guardian is chiefly divided into training in two areas designed to cultivate the soul with properties needed in protecting the city: musical training and physical training. Through musical training, the guardians are made graceful through “the permea[tion] of the inner soul [by rhythm and harmony]… which brings grace [to the soul]” (III, 401d), and also made so that they “feel distaste correctly”, which leads one to “praise fine things… be pleased by them… [and] become fine and good” (III, 401e). Through physical training, which emphasizes healthy eating and strengthening of the body, guardians are made proud, spirited, and courageous which counteracts with their musical training to form a balance of physical and mental strength, enabling them to be “gentle to their own people and harsh to their enemies” (II, 375c)
At the top of the metal hierarchy are those that are composed of gold; the “most honorable” and complete guardians that are “capable of ruling” the Kallipolis (III, 415a). Although Plato elaborates on these guardians that are capable of ruling as “Philosopher-kings” later on in the Republic, for the purpose of the essay it is easier to see them as “the best of the guardians… who are best at guarding the city” as described in Book three, 412d.
Thus, given the idea that citizens by nature are those who concern themselves with the affairs of the civitas, and given the fact that both the governing class and those that defend the integrity and the physical formation both stem from a same species of people we have come to identify as the “guardians”, it is safe to say that guardians are the only true citizens of the Kallipolis; and as it is commonly understood that the citizens of a city reflect the ideals it stands for, it only makes sense to explore next the ideals and the convictions that these citizens live by, so to get a better grasp of materialism and its would-be effect on the Kallipolis.
First of all, it is important to understand the concept of happiness as it pertains to Plato’s beautiful city. A happy city, if Plato is to be believed, is one where the citizens are “happy as a whole”, as opposed to being a gathering of individual happy people (IV, 420c). That having been said, it is then the goal of citizens of such a city to make sure the greatest possible happiness develops for the whole city (IV, 421b), and in order to make this happen, the citizens must ensure that those who contribute to the city (i.e. the craftsmen, guardians) are at the best level possible, holding true to the idea—and assuming that what is good is what makes people happy as opposed to the bad—that each citizen contributes a part to the whole and a summation of happy parts equals a happy whole (IV, 421c). It can then be implied that whatever causes a contributing citizen to become corrupt or bad at his work will cause unhappiness to the whole, and this cause is identified by Plato as wealth and poverty.
Wealth, according to Plato causes idleness and negative productivity, as “a wealthy craftsman… will [not] be devoting himself to his craft.” (IV, 421d) Given that the implications about a part affecting the whole holds true reduced productivity, as it pertains to one’s duty to the city, in a single individual would equal reduced happiness for the whole city. Poverty also causes idleness and negative productivity as a poorly-funded craftsman will not have sufficient resources for his work, causing him to “make poorer products himself and worse craftsmen of his sons or anyone he teaches.” (IV, 421d).
Returning to the idea that the citizens reflect the ideals of the city as a whole, Platonic Socrates maintains that the guardians of the city are to be provided with living quarters, an adequate wage for maintenance, and also be deprived of private property. The provision of these three things would mean that the guardians—or more correctly, the true citizens of the city—would dedicate themselves to providing the craft that they have been best fitted for as they will not worry themselves about where to sleep, how to survive, and also will not concern themselves with consumer culture at all. Failure of these things would prescribe the opposite effect and not only will they tip the happiness balance toward the discontent, but also cause citizens to “spend their whole lives hating and being hated, plotting and being plotted against… to the brink their own destruction, and that of the rest of the city.” (III, 102b)
Therefore it can also be concluded in the same way it applies to Exodus that a change in generations, or in this case a safe regulating of generations, is important in invoking radical change; whereas in Exodus the change in generation involved the physical expiration of the previous generation to pave the way for the next, in the Republic proper education of the young in rearing them to become adequate guardian is stressed as a necessary step in disposing the grasps of materialism, and in turn maintaining justice and happiness in the city.
Seeing as how all that needs to be said about materialism has now been exhausted, it only seems reasonable that the focus now be shifted to that of why relocation is necessary to the progress of radical change. In Exodus relocation ties into the idea of liberating the Covenant Nation from the shackles of materialism by fleeing the land which enslaved them, while Plato contends that it is necessary for humans to move away from the darkness into the realm of truth and wisdom illustrated as illustrated his Allegory of the Cave.
In the case of Exodus, relocation was necessary because the Israelites were (voluntarily) trapped in a world centered on material possessions. In a sense, one can contend that as slaves, the Israelites themselves were of material nature being “material possessions” of their Egyptian overlords, and they could not live as humans but as “property” until they had fled away from Egypt. It is also notable that relocation was not only necessary but also a characteristic of the Covenant Nation: the very notion that YHWH promises his people that he will lead them out into a land of “milk” and “honey”—where “milk” is symbolic of animal husbandry associated with nomadic cultures, and “honey” symbolic of agriculture—signals YHWH’s original will in creating a physically dynamic nation, as opposed to a sedentary tribe of slaves.
Plato, however, provides a different outlook toward relocation and how it pertains to radical change through the idea that relocation is necessary for a shift in paradigm to take place. In the Allegory of the Cave, Plato describes a hypothetical situation where a group of prisoners are kept captive inside a cave and are forced to live in a fabricated reality until one of the prisoners one day makes a miraculous escape out of the cave. Upon his escape and his first sight of the sun, he discovers that the darkness he had embraced as reality was fabricated and upon his venture back into darkness, he realizes that because of his exposure to the sun, he is unable to see darkness as clearly as he used to without readjusting. In this way, the sun is truth or wisdom that is needed for change, while the world in itself is a cave with a fabricated reality (its fabricators being society); in order for radical change or revolution to occur, one must escape the realm of falsehood and be exposed to the truth, so that he may be able to guard himself from the grips of falsehood. Because change usually calls for the rebuking of something false and affirming of something true, change of any caliber cannot take place until truth or what is perceived to be the truth is revealed.
Finally, in terms of radical politics, the Exodus and the Republic seems to suggest, however, is the fact that the most ideal form of government is one that closely resembles the modern concept of communism. In Exodus, for example, God (or in this case, the Communist chairman or dictator) has an uncanny ability regulating food (as shown with the quails and manna), regulating culture and how certain traditions should be observed (exemplified by the Passover and the Sabbath which he commands the Israelites to keep holy) and ultimately in the way he is able to put to death those that oppose his will (as exemplified by the 3000 killed on Mt. Sinai for erecting the golden cattle). In the Republic, the lives of the Guardian is nothing short of being communal, as they all live in the same living quarters, own no private property, and are free of familial ties and duties other than to the city; Plato even goes far to say that “the best governed [city] is one in which the vast majority of people apply ‘mine’ and ‘not mine’ to the same things on the basis of the same principle.”
Therefore, the two contrasting texts of Exodus and the Republic share contending ideas of radical politics in that they both support radical action as the catalyst and the undermining factor for radical change. One thing to retract from these texts, however, is that the hypothetical situations that are described in the texts are either impossible to conceive or very difficult to apply in the present day. In the case of Exodus, the Israelites were led into their promised land by an omnipotent, divine figure that communicated with man; whereas the political institution founded in Republic is feasible in the present day, it is hard to envision it being materialized (no pun intended) in a world so dominated by financial institutions.
