The Politics of Aristotle is the second part of a treatise of which the Ethics is the first part. It looks back to the Ethics as the Ethics looks forward to the Politics. For Aristotle did not separate, as we are inclined to do, the spheres of the statesman and the moralist. In the Ethics he has described the character necessary for the good life, but that life is for him essentially to be lived in society, and when in the last chapters of the Ethics he comes to the practical application of his inquiries, that finds expression not in moral exhortations addressed to the individual but in a description of the legislative opportunities of the statesman. It is the legislator's task to frame a society which shall make the good life possible. Politics for Aristotle is not a struggle between individuals or classes for power, nor a device for getting done such elementary tasks as the maintenance of order and security without too great encroachments on individual liberty. The state is "a community of well-being in families and aggregations of families for the sake of a perfect and self-sufficing life." The legislator is a craftsman whose material is society and whose aim is the good life.
Aristotle’s Politics is the second part of a work whose first part is the Ethics. The Politics looks back to the Ethics, just as the Ethics looks ahead to the Politics. Aristotle did not separate the roles of the statesman and the moral philosopher, as we tend to do. In the Ethics, he describes the character needed for a good life. But for him, that life must be lived in society. In the final chapters of the Ethics, he turns to the practical application of his ideas. He does not offer moral advice to individuals. Instead, he describes how the statesman can use legislation. The legislator’s task is to shape a society that makes the good life possible. For Aristotle, politics is not a struggle for power between individuals or classes. Nor is politics a way to carry out basic tasks, such as maintaining order and security, without excessively limiting individual freedom. The state is "a community of well-being among families and groups of families, seeking a complete and self-sufficient life." The legislator is a craftsman whose material is society and whose goal is the good life.
In an early dialogue of Plato's, the Protagoras, Socrates asks Protagoras why it is not as easy to find teachers of virtue as it is to find teachers of swordsmanship, riding, or any other art. Protagoras' answer is that there are no special teachers of virtue, because virtue is taught by the whole community. Plato and Aristotle both accept the view of moral education implied in this answer. In a passage of the Republic (492 b) Plato repudiates the notion that the sophists have a corrupting moral influence upon young men. The public themselves, he says, are the real sophists and the most complete and thorough educators. No private education can hold out against the irresistible force of public opinion and the ordinary moral standards of society. But that makes it all the more essential that public opinion and social environment should not be left to grow up at haphazard as they ordinarily do, but should be made by the wise legislator the expression of the good and be informed in all their details by his knowledge. The legislator is the only possible teacher of virtue.
In the Protagoras, an early dialogue by Plato, Socrates asks Protagoras why teachers of virtue are harder to find. Teachers of swordsmanship, riding, or any other art are easier to find. Protagoras answers that virtue has no specialized teachers because the whole community teaches it. Plato and Aristotle both accept the view of moral education behind this answer. In a passage of the Republic (492 b), Plato rejects the idea that sophists morally corrupt young men. The public themselves, he says, are the real sophists and the most complete and thorough educators. No private education can withstand the irresistible force of public opinion and society’s usual moral standards. But this influence makes it all the more essential not to let public opinion and the social environment develop randomly. That is how they usually develop. Instead, the wise legislator must shape public opinion and the social environment to express what is good. His knowledge must guide every detail of both. The legislator is the only possible teacher of virtue.
Such a programme for a treatise on government might lead us to expect in the Politics mainly a description of a Utopia or ideal state which might inspire poets or philosophers but have little direct effect upon political institutions. Plato's Republic is obviously impracticable, for its author had turned away in despair from existing politics. He has no proposals, in that dialogue at least, for making the best of things as they are. The first lesson his philosopher has to learn is to turn away from this world of becoming and decay, and to look upon the unchanging eternal world of ideas. Thus his ideal city is, as he says, a pattern laid up in heaven by which the just man may rule his life, a pattern therefore in the meantime for the individual and not for the statesman. It is a city, he admits in the Laws, for gods or the children of gods, not for men as they are.
Such a plan for a book on government might lead us to expect mainly a Utopia or ideal state in the Politics. Such a state might inspire poets or philosophers but have little direct effect on political institutions. Plato's Republic is clearly impractical because its author had turned away from existing politics in despair. At least in that dialogue, Plato offers no proposals for making the best of things as they are. The first lesson his philosopher must learn is to turn away from this world of change and decay. Instead, the philosopher must look to the unchanging, eternal world of ideas. So Plato's ideal city is, as he says, a model set in heaven for the just person to live by. For now, therefore, the model guides the individual, not the statesman. As Plato admits in the Laws, his ideal city is for gods or the children of gods. It is not for human beings as they are.
Aristotle has none of the high enthusiasm or poetic imagination of Plato. He is even unduly impatient of Plato's idealism, as is shown by the criticisms in the second book. But he has a power to see the possibilities of good in things that are imperfect, and the patience of the true politician who has learned that if he would make men what they ought to be, he must take them as he finds them. His ideal is constructed not of pure reason or poetry, but from careful and sympathetic study of a wide range of facts. His criticism of Plato in the light of history, in Book II. chap, v., though as a criticism it is curiously inept, reveals his own attitude admirably: "Let us remember that we should not disregard the experience of ages; in the multitude of years, these things, if they were good, would certainly not have been unknown; for almost everything has been found out, although sometimes they are not put together; in other cases men do not use the knowledge which they have." Aristotle in his Constitutions had made a study of one hundred and fifty-eight constitutions of the states of his day, and the fruits of that study are seen in the continual reference to concrete political experience, which makes the Politics in some respects a critical history of the workings of the institutions of the Greek city state. In Books IV., V., and VI. the ideal state seems far away, and we find a dispassionate survey of imperfect states, the best ways of preserving them, and an analysis of the causes of their instability. It is as though Aristotle were saying: "I have shown you the proper and normal type of constitution, but if you will not have it and insist on living under a perverted form, you may as well know how to make the best of it." In this way the Politics, though it defines the state in the light of its ideal, discusses states and institutions as they are. Ostensibly it is merely a continuation of the Ethics, but it comes to treat political questions from a purely political standpoint.
Aristotle has none of Plato’s intense enthusiasm or poetic imagination. He is even too impatient with Plato’s idealism, as his criticisms in the second book show. But he can see the potential for good in imperfect things. He also has the patience of a true politician. Such a politician knows that to make people what they ought to be, he must take them as they are. Aristotle builds his ideal not from pure reason or poetry, but from careful, sympathetic study of a wide range of facts. In Book II, chapter V, he criticizes Plato in light of history. Though strangely ineffective as criticism, the passage reveals Aristotle’s own outlook admirably: "Let us remember that we should not ignore the experience of the ages. Over so many years, these things, if they were good, would certainly have become known. For almost everything has been discovered, although sometimes discoveries have not been brought together. In other cases, people do not use the knowledge they have." In his Constitutions, Aristotle studied the constitutions of one hundred and fifty-eight states of his day. The results appear in his constant references to actual political experience. These references make the Politics, in some respects, a critical history of how Greek city-state institutions worked. In Books IV, V, and VI, the ideal state seems far away. Instead, we find an impartial survey of imperfect states and the best ways to preserve them. We also find an analysis of what makes these states unstable. It is as though Aristotle were saying: "I have shown you the proper and normal type of constitution. But if you refuse it and insist on living under a distorted form, you might as well know how to make the best of it." In this way, the Politics defines the state through its ideal, yet discusses states and institutions as they actually are. On the surface, the Politics is merely a continuation of the Ethics. But it comes to address political questions from a purely political standpoint.
This combination of idealism and respect for the teachings of experience constitutes in some ways the strength and value of the Politics, but it also makes it harder to follow. The large nation states to which we are accustomed make it difficult for us to think that the state could be constructed and modelled to express the good life. We can appreciate Aristotle's critical analysis of constitutions, but find it hard to take seriously his advice to the legislator. Moreover, the idealism and the empiricism of the Politics are never really reconciled by Aristotle himself.
The Politics combines idealism with respect for the lessons of experience. In some ways, this combination gives the work its strength and value, but also makes it harder to follow. We are used to large nation states. This familiarity makes it difficult to imagine shaping a state to express the good life. We can appreciate Aristotle's critical analysis of constitutions, but we find his advice to lawmakers hard to take seriously. Moreover, Aristotle himself never really reconciles the idealism of the Politics with its reliance on experience.
It may help to an understanding of the Politics if something is said on those two points.
Saying something about those two points may help readers understand the Politics.
We are accustomed since the growth of the historical method to the belief that states are "not made but grow," and are apt to be impatient with the belief which Aristotle and Plato show in the powers of the lawgiver. But however true the maxim may be of the modern nation state, it was not true of the much smaller and more self-conscious Greek city. When Aristotle talks of the legislator, he is not talking in the air. Students of the Academy had been actually called on to give new constitutions to Greek states. For the Greeks the constitution was not merely as it is so often with us, a matter of political machinery. It was regarded as a way of life. Further, the constitution within the framework of which the ordinary process of administration and passing of decrees went on, was always regarded as the work of a special man or body of men, the lawgivers. If we study Greek history, we find that the position of the legislator corresponds to that assigned to him by Plato and Aristotle. All Greek states, except those perversions which Aristotle criticises as being "above law," worked under rigid constitutions, and the constitution was only changed when the whole people gave a commission to a lawgiver to draw up a new one. Such was the position of the AEsumnetes, whom Aristotle describes in Book III. chap, xiv., in earlier times, and of the pupils of the Academy in the fourth century. The lawgiver was not an ordinary politician. He was a state doctor, called in to prescribe for an ailing constitution. So Herodotus recounts that when the people of Cyrene asked the oracle of Delphi to help them in their dissensions, the oracle told them to go to Mantinea, and the Mantineans lent them Demonax, who acted as a "setter straight" and drew up a new constitution for Cyrene. So again the Milesians, Herodotus tells us, were long troubled by civil discord, till they asked help from Paros, and the Parians sent ten commissioners who gave Miletus a new constitution. So the Athenians, when they were founding their model new colony at Thurii, employed Hippodamus of Miletus, whom Aristotle mentions in Book II, as the best expert in town-planning, to plan the streets of the city, and Protagoras as the best expert in law-making, to give the city its laws. In the Laws Plato represents one of the persons of the dialogue as having been asked by the people of Gortyna to draw up laws for a colony which they were founding. The situation described must have occurred frequently in actual life. The Greeks thought administration should be democratic and law-making the work of experts. We think more naturally of law-making as the special right of the people and administration as necessarily confined to experts.
Since the rise of the historical method, we have grown used to believing that states are "not made but grow." We therefore tend to be impatient with Aristotle’s and Plato’s faith in the powers of the lawgiver. But however true this saying may be of the modern nation state, it did not apply to the Greek city. The Greek city was much smaller and more conscious of itself as a community. When Aristotle discusses the legislator, he is not speaking in the abstract. Students of the Academy had actually been called on to give Greek states new constitutions. For the Greeks, a constitution was not merely a system of government, as it so often is for us. They regarded it as a way of life. Ordinary administration and the passing of decrees took place within the constitution’s framework. The constitution itself was always considered the work of a particular man or group of men, the lawgivers. If we study Greek history, we find that the legislator’s role matches the role Plato and Aristotle give him. All Greek states operated under rigid constitutions, except the distorted forms of government Aristotle criticizes as being "above law." A constitution changed only when the whole people commissioned a lawgiver to draw up a new one. In earlier times, this was the role of the AEsumnetes, whom Aristotle describes in Book III, chapter xiv. In the fourth century, pupils of the Academy held the same role. The lawgiver was not an ordinary politician. He was a doctor to the state, called in to prescribe treatment for an ailing constitution. Thus Herodotus recounts how the people of Cyrene asked the oracle of Delphi for help with their internal disputes. The oracle told them to go to Mantinea. The Mantineans lent them Demonax, who acted as a "setter straight" and drew up a new constitution for Cyrene. Similarly, Herodotus tells us that the Milesians suffered from civil conflict for a long time before seeking help from Paros. The Parians sent ten commissioners, who gave Miletus a new constitution. Likewise, when the Athenians were founding their model new colony at Thurii, they employed Hippodamus of Miletus. Aristotle mentions him in Book II. The Athenians hired him as the best expert in town planning to lay out the city’s streets. They hired Protagoras as the best expert in lawmaking to give the city its laws. In the Laws, Plato presents one of the dialogue’s speakers as having been asked to draw up laws. The request came from the people of Gortyna, who were founding a colony and needed laws for it. The situation Plato describes must have occurred frequently in real life. The Greeks thought administration should be democratic and lawmaking should be the work of experts. We more naturally see lawmaking as the people’s special right and administration as necessarily restricted to experts.
Aristotle's Politics, then, is a handbook for the legislator, the expert who is to be called in when a state wants help. We have called him a state doctor. It is one of the most marked characteristics of Greek political theory that Plato and Aristotle think of the statesman as one who has knowledge of what ought to be done, and can help those who call him in to prescribe for them, rather than one who has power to control the forces of society. The desire of society for the statesman's advice is taken for granted, Plato in the Republic says that a good constitution is only possible when the ruler does not want to rule; where men contend for power, where they have not learnt to distinguish between the art of getting hold of the helm of state and the art of steering, which alone is statesmanship, true politics is impossible.
Aristotle's Politics, then, is a handbook for the legislator, the expert called in when a state wants help. We have called this expert a state doctor. One of the most distinctive features of Greek political theory is how Plato and Aristotle understand the statesman. They see the statesman as someone who knows what ought to be done and can advise those who seek help. They do not primarily see the statesman as someone with the power to control the forces of society. Society's desire for the statesman's advice is taken for granted. In the Republic, Plato says that a good constitution is possible only when the ruler does not want to rule. True politics is impossible where men compete for power without having learned to distinguish between two arts. One is the art of gaining control of the ship of state. The other is the art of steering the ship, and only steering is statesmanship.
With this position much that Aristotle has to say about government is in agreement. He assumes the characteristic Platonic view that all men seek the good, and go wrong through ignorance, not through evil will, and so he naturally regards the state as a community which exists for the sake of the good life. It is in the state that that common seeking after the good which is the profoundest truth about men and nature becomes explicit and knows itself. The state is for Aristotle prior to the family and the village, although it succeeds them in time, for only when the state with its conscious organisation is reached can man understand the secret of his past struggles after something he knew not what. If primitive society is understood in the light of the state, the state is understood in the light of its most perfect form, when the good after which all societies are seeking is realised in its perfection. Hence for Aristotle as for Plato, the natural state or the state as such is the ideal state, and the ideal state is the starting-point of political inquiry.
Much of what Aristotle says about government agrees with this position. He accepts the characteristic Platonic view that all people seek the good and go wrong through ignorance, not evil intent. So he naturally sees the state as a community that exists for the sake of the good life. The shared pursuit of the good is the deepest truth about humanity and nature. In the state, this pursuit becomes clear and conscious of itself. For Aristotle, the state comes before the family and the village in importance, although it develops after them in time. Only when people reach the consciously organized state can they understand their earlier struggles toward a goal they could not identify. If early society is understood through the state, the state is understood through its most perfect form. In this form, the good that all societies seek is fully achieved. So, for Aristotle as for Plato, the natural state, or the state as such, is the ideal state. The ideal state is therefore the starting point for political inquiry.
In accordance with the same line of thought, imperfect states, although called perversions, are regarded by Aristotle as the result rather of misconception and ignorance than of perverse will. They all represent, he says, some kind of justice. Oligarchs and democrats go wrong in their conception of the good. They have come short of the perfect state through misunderstanding of the end or through ignorance of the proper means to the end. But if they are states at all, they embody some common conception of the good, some common aspirations of all their members.
Following the same reasoning, Aristotle sees imperfect states as the result of misunderstanding and ignorance rather than bad intentions. He takes this view even though these states are called distortions of proper government. All these states, he says, represent some form of justice. Oligarchs and democrats are mistaken in their understanding of the good. Their states fall short of the perfect state because they misunderstand its goal or do not know how to achieve it. But if these states are states at all, they embody some shared understanding of the good. They also embody some aspirations shared by all their members.
The Greek doctrine that the essence of the state consists in community of purpose is the counterpart of the notion often held in modern times that the essence of the state is force. The existence of force is for Plato and Aristotle a sign not of the state but of the state's failure. It comes from the struggle between conflicting misconceptions of the good. In so far as men conceive the good rightly they are united. The state represents their common agreement, force their failure to make that agreement complete. The cure, therefore, of political ills is knowledge of the good life, and the statesman is he who has such knowledge, for that alone can give men what they are always seeking.
The Greek view that the state is based on shared purpose has a counterpart in a common modern view. In that modern view, the state is based on force. For Plato and Aristotle, force is a sign not of the state but of the state's failure. Force arises from clashes between conflicting, mistaken ideas of what is good. To the extent that people understand what is good, they are united. The state represents their shared agreement, while force represents their failure to reach complete agreement. The cure for political problems, therefore, is knowledge of the good life. The statesman is someone who has that knowledge, because only that knowledge can give people what they are always seeking.
If the state is the organisation of men seeking a common good, power and political position must be given to those who can forward this end. This is the principle expressed in Aristotle's account of political justice, the principle of "tools to those who can use them." As the aim of the state is differently conceived, the qualifications for government will vary. In the ideal state power will be given to the man with most knowledge of the good; in other states to the men who are most truly capable of achieving that end which the citizens have set themselves to pursue. The justest distribution of political power is that in which there is least waste of political ability.
If the state is a group of people seeking a common good, power and political office must serve that goal. They must go to those who can advance it. Aristotle expresses this principle in his account of political justice: "tools to those who can use them." The qualifications for governing will vary according to how the state's purpose is understood. In the ideal state, power will go to the person who knows most about the good. In other states, power will go to those most capable of achieving the goal the citizens have chosen to pursue. The fairest distribution of political power wastes the least political ability.
Further, the belief that the constitution of a state is only the outward expression of the common aspirations and beliefs of its members, explains the paramount political importance which Aristotle assigns to education. It is the great instrument by which the legislator can ensure that the future citizens of his state will share those common beliefs which make the state possible. The Greeks with their small states had a far clearer apprehension than we can have of the dependence of a constitution upon the people who have to work it.
Further, a state's constitution is believed to be only the outward expression of its members' shared hopes and beliefs. This belief explains why Aristotle gives education such great political importance. Education is the main tool lawmakers can use to ensure that future citizens share the beliefs that make the state possible. The Greeks, with their small states, understood far more clearly than we can how a constitution depends on its people. Those people must put the constitution into practice.
Such is in brief the attitude in which Aristotle approaches political problems, but in working out its application to men and institutions as they are, Aristotle admits certain compromises which are not really consistent with it.
In brief, this is how Aristotle approaches political problems. But when applying this approach to people and institutions as they are, Aristotle accepts certain compromises. These compromises are not really consistent with his approach.
1. Aristotle thinks of membership of a state as community in pursuit of the good. He wishes to confine membership in it to those who are capable of that pursuit in the highest and most explicit manner. His citizens, therefore, must be men of leisure, capable of rational thought upon the end of life. He does not recognise the significance of that less conscious but deep-seated membership of the state which finds its expression in loyalty and patriotism. His definition of citizen includes only a small part of the population of any Greek city. He is forced to admit that the state is not possible without the co-operation of men whom he will not admit to membership in it, either because they are not capable of sufficient rational appreciation of political ends, like the barbarians whom he thought were natural slaves, or because the leisure necessary for citizenship can only be gained by the work of the artisans who by that very work make themselves incapable of the life which they make possible for others. "The artisan only attains excellence in proportion as he becomes a slave," and the slave is only a living instrument of the good life. He exists for the state, but the state does not exist for him.
1. Aristotle sees membership in a state as belonging to a community that pursues the good. He wants to limit membership to those capable of pursuing the good at the highest and most conscious level. His citizens must therefore be men with leisure, capable of thinking rationally about life's purpose. He does not recognize the importance of a less conscious but deeply rooted sense of belonging to the state. This sense of belonging is expressed in loyalty and patriotism. His definition of a citizen includes only a small part of any Greek city's population. He must admit that the state cannot exist without the cooperation of men he excludes from citizenship. Some are excluded because they cannot understand political goals rationally enough. These include the barbarians he considered natural slaves. Others are excluded because the leisure needed for citizenship depends on the work of artisans. Yet that very work makes artisans incapable of living the life they make possible for others. "The artisan achieves excellence only to the extent that he becomes a slave," and the slave is merely a living tool for the good life. He exists for the state, but the state does not exist for him.
2. Aristotle in his account of the ideal state seems to waver between two ideals. There is the ideal of an aristocracy and the ideal of what he calls constitutional government, a mixed constitution. The principle of "tools to those who can use them" ought to lead him, as it does Plato, to an aristocracy. Those who have complete knowledge of the good must be few, and therefore Plato gave entire power in his state into the hands of the small minority of philosopher guardians. It is in accordance with this principle that Aristotle holds that kingship is the proper form of government when there is in the state one man of transcendent virtue. At the same time, Aristotle always holds that absolute government is not properly political, that government is not like the rule of a shepherd over his sheep, but the rule of equals over equals. He admits that the democrats are right in insisting that equality is a necessary element in the state, though he thinks they do not admit the importance of other equally necessary elements. Hence he comes to say that ruling and being ruled over by turns is an essential feature of constitutional government, which he admits as an alternative to aristocracy. The end of the state, which is to be the standard of the distribution of political power, is conceived sometimes as a good for the apprehension and attainment of which "virtue" is necessary and sufficient (this is the principle of aristocracy), and sometimes as a more complex good, which needs for its attainment not only "virtue" but wealth and equality. This latter conception is the principle on which the mixed constitution is based. This in its distribution of political power gives some weight to "virtue," some to wealth, and some to mere number. But the principle of "ruling and being ruled by turns" is not really compatible with an unmodified principle of "tools to those who can use them." Aristotle is right in seeing that political government demands equality, not in the sense that all members of the state should be equal in ability or should have equal power, but in the sense that none of them can properly be regarded simply as tools with which the legislator works, that each has a right to say what will be made of his own life. The analogy between the legislator and the craftsman on which Plato insists, breaks down because the legislator is dealing with men like himself, men who can to some extent conceive their own end in life and cannot be treated merely as means to the end of the legislator. The sense of the value of "ruling and being ruled in turn" is derived from the experience that the ruler may use his power to subordinate the lives of the citizens of the state not to the common good but to his own private purposes. In modern terms, it is a simple, rough-and-ready attempt to solve that constant problem of politics, how efficient government is to be combined with popular control. This problem arises from the imperfection of human nature, apparent in rulers as well as in ruled, and if the principle which attempts to solve it be admitted as a principle of importance in the formation of the best constitution, then the starting-point of politics will be man's actual imperfection, not his ideal nature. Instead, then, of beginning with a state which would express man's ideal nature, and adapting it as well as may be to man's actual shortcomings from that ideal, we must recognise that the state and all political machinery are as much the expression of man's weakness as of his ideal possibilities. The state is possible only because men have common aspirations, but government, and political power, the existence of officials who are given authority to act in the name of the whole state, are necessary because men's community is imperfect, because man's social nature expresses itself in conflicting ways, in the clash of interests, the rivalry of parties, and the struggle of classes, instead of in the united seeking after a common good. Plato and Aristotle were familiar with the legislator who was called in by the whole people, and they tended therefore to take the general will or common consent of the people for granted. Most political questions are concerned with the construction and expression of the general will, and with attempts to ensure that the political machinery made to express the general will shall not be exploited for private or sectional ends.
2. In his account of the ideal state, Aristotle seems to waver between two ideals. One is aristocracy. The other is what he calls constitutional government, a mixed constitution. The principle of "tools to those who can use them" ought to lead him, as it does Plato, to aristocracy. Those with complete knowledge of the good must be few. Plato therefore placed all power in his state in the hands of a small minority of philosopher guardians. Aristotle follows this principle when he says that kingship is the right government when one citizen has exceptional virtue. At the same time, Aristotle consistently holds that absolute government is not truly political. Government is not like a shepherd ruling his sheep. It is the rule of equals over equals. He admits that democrats are right to insist that equality is essential to the state. But he thinks they fail to recognize other equally necessary elements. He therefore argues that taking turns to rule and be ruled is essential to constitutional government. He accepts this form of government as an alternative to aristocracy. The state's purpose is supposed to determine how political power is distributed. Sometimes Aristotle sees this purpose as a good that "virtue" alone is both necessary and sufficient to understand and achieve. This is the principle of aristocracy. At other times, he sees it as a more complex good, requiring not only "virtue" but also wealth and equality. This second view provides the basis for the mixed constitution. In distributing political power, the mixed constitution gives some weight to "virtue," some to wealth, and some to numbers alone. But "ruling and being ruled by turns" is not really compatible with the unqualified principle of "tools to those who can use them." Aristotle is right to see that political government requires equality. This does not mean that all members of the state should have equal ability or equal power. It means that none can rightly be treated simply as tools for the lawmaker to use. Each has a right to say what will be made of his own life. Plato insists on comparing the lawmaker to a craftsman, but this comparison breaks down. The lawmaker deals with people like himself. They can, to some extent, understand their own purposes in life. They cannot be treated merely as means to the lawmaker's ends. The value placed on "ruling and being ruled in turn" comes from experience. A ruler may use his power to direct citizens' lives toward his private purposes rather than the common good. In modern terms, taking turns is a simple, rough-and-ready attempt to solve a persistent political problem. That problem is how to combine effective government with popular control. The problem arises from human imperfection, found in rulers as well as those they rule. Suppose the principle intended to solve this problem is accepted as important in shaping the best constitution. Politics must then begin with human beings as they actually are, imperfect, rather than with their ideal nature. We must therefore stop beginning with a state that would express ideal human nature. Nor should we merely adapt that ideal state as best we can to actual human shortcomings. Instead, we must recognize that the state and all political institutions express human weakness as much as human potential. The state is possible only because people share common aims. But government and political power are necessary because people's unity is imperfect. This includes the need for officials authorized to act in the name of the whole state. Human social nature expresses itself in conflicting ways rather than in a united pursuit of the common good. These conflicts appear in clashing interests, rivalry between parties, and struggle between classes. Plato and Aristotle knew the practice of calling in a lawmaker at the request of the whole people. They therefore tended to take the people's general will or common consent for granted. Most political questions concern how to form and express the general will. They also concern how to prevent institutions designed to express that will from serving private or sectional interests instead.
Aristotle's mixed constitution springs from a recognition of sectional interests in the state. For the proper relation between the claims of "virtue," wealth, and numbers is to be based not upon their relative importance in the good life, but upon the strength of the parties which they represent. The mixed constitution is practicable in a state where the middle class is strong, as only the middle class can mediate between the rich and the poor. The mixed constitution will be stable if it represents the actual balance of power between different classes in the state. When we come to Aristotle's analysis of existing constitutions, we find that while he regards them as imperfect approximations to the ideal, he also thinks of them as the result of the struggle between classes. Democracy, he explains, is the government not of the many but of the poor; oligarchy a government not of the few but of the rich. And each class is thought of, not as trying to express an ideal, but as struggling to acquire power or maintain its position. If ever the class existed in unredeemed nakedness, it was in the Greek cities of the fourth century, and its existence is abundantly recognised by Aristotle. His account of the causes of revolutions in Book V. shows how far were the existing states of Greece from the ideal with which he starts. His analysis of the facts forces him to look upon them as the scene of struggling factions. The causes of revolutions are not described as primarily changes in the conception of the common good, but changes in the military or economic power of the several classes in the state. The aim which he sets before oligarchs or democracies is not the good life, but simple stability or permanence of the existing constitution.
Aristotle's mixed constitution begins by recognizing the interests of different groups within the state. The claims of "virtue," wealth, and numbers must be balanced according to the strength of the groups they represent. Their relative importance to the good life is not the basis for this balance. A mixed constitution is workable in a state with a strong middle class. Only the middle class can mediate between the rich and the poor. A mixed constitution will be stable if it reflects the actual balance of power between the state's different classes. In Aristotle's analysis of existing constitutions, he sees them as imperfect versions of the ideal. But he also sees them as the result of struggles between classes. Democracy, he explains, is government not by the many but by the poor. Oligarchy is government not by the few but by the rich. Each class is seen not as trying to put an ideal into practice, but as struggling for power. Each seeks to gain power or maintain its position. If class ever existed in its starkest, most unvarnished form, it did in the Greek cities of the fourth century. Aristotle fully recognizes its existence. His account of the causes of revolutions in Book V shows how far existing Greek states were from his starting ideal. His analysis of the facts forces him to see these states as places where rival factions struggle for power. He does not describe revolutions as caused primarily by changes in ideas about the common good. Instead, he describes their causes as changes in the military or economic power of the state's different classes. The goal he sets for oligarchs or democracies is not the good life. It is simply the stability or permanence of the existing constitution.
With this spirit of realism which pervades Books IV., V., and VI. the idealism of Books I., II., VII., and VIII. is never reconciled. Aristotle is content to call existing constitutions perversions of the true form. But we cannot read the Politics without recognising and profiting from the insight into the nature of the state which is revealed throughout. Aristotle's failure does not lie in this, that he is both idealist and realist, but that he keeps these two tendencies too far apart. He thinks too much of his ideal state, as something to be reached once for all by knowledge, as a fixed type to which actual states approximate or from which they are perversions. But if we are to think of actual politics as intelligible in the light of the ideal, we must think of that ideal as progressively revealed in history, not as something to be discovered by turning our back on experience and having recourse to abstract reasoning. If we stretch forward from what exists to an ideal, it is to a better which may be in its turn transcended, not to a single immutable best. Aristotle found in the society of his time men who were not capable of political reflection, and who, as he thought, did their best work under superintendence. He therefore called them natural slaves. For, according to Aristotle, that is a man's natural condition in which he does his best work. But Aristotle also thinks of nature as something fixed and immutable; and therefore sanctions the institution of slavery, which assumes that what men are that they will always be, and sets up an artificial barrier to their ever becoming anything else. We see in Aristotle's defence of slavery how the conception of nature as the ideal can have a debasing influence upon views of practical politics. His high ideal of citizenship offers to those who can satisfy its claims the prospect of a fair life; those who fall short are deemed to be different in nature and shut out entirely from approach to the ideal.
The realism running through Books IV, V, and VI is never reconciled with the idealism of Books I, II, VII, and VIII. Aristotle is content to call existing constitutions distortions of the true form. But we cannot read the Politics without recognizing and benefiting from its insights into the nature of the state. Aristotle's failure is not that he is both an idealist and a realist. Rather, he keeps these two approaches too far apart. He thinks too much of his ideal state as something knowledge can achieve once and for all. He treats it as a fixed model that actual states either approach or distort. But if ideal politics is to help us understand actual politics, we must see the ideal as gradually revealed through history. We must not treat the ideal as something discovered by turning away from experience and relying on abstract reasoning. If we reach beyond what exists toward an ideal, we seek something better that may itself later be surpassed. We do not seek a single, unchanging best. In the society of his time, Aristotle found men who were incapable of political reflection. He thought these men did their best work under supervision. He therefore called them natural slaves. For Aristotle, a man's natural condition is the condition in which he does his best work. But Aristotle also sees nature as fixed and unchanging, and therefore endorses the institution of slavery. Slavery assumes that men will always remain what they are. It also creates an artificial barrier that prevents them from ever becoming anything else. Aristotle's defense of slavery shows how treating nature as the ideal can degrade our thinking about practical politics. His high ideal of citizenship offers those who can meet its demands the prospect of a good life. Those who fall short are considered different by nature and completely barred from moving toward the ideal.
A. D. LINDSAY.
A. D. LINDSAY.