Ancient Philosophy

Neoplatonism

This final philosophical movement of antiquity developed during the 3rd to 5th centuries of the Common Era, a time marked by the emergence and establishment of Christianity, the infiltration of new religious doctrines, cults, and mysteries from the East into the West. In this era, philosophy gradually transformed into a religious endeavor. The Neoplatonic school exemplified this shift, beginning with Plotinus (205-270) and concluding with Proclus (412-485). However, before delving into Plotinus, it is necessary to recall some aspects of the history of the Platonic school—the Academy.

The immediate successors of Plato grappled with issues inherited both from the well-known dialogues of their teacher and from the portion referred to as "Plato's unwritten teachings," known only to his listeners. An important source for our understanding of Plato's views, which did not appear in his dialogues, is Aristotle (though he focuses only on certain fragments of Plato's orally expressed thoughts), as well as testimonies from the followers of Platonism within the Academy itself. It is fitting to focus on some fundamental aspects of Plato's metaphysics that were discussed for a long time after him by the so-called "Academics."

In the first book of his "Metaphysics," Aristotle notes that Plato borrowed many concepts from the Pythagoreans, particularly the notions of the One and the Dyad. These can be regarded as the first principles or causes of all that exists, as Aristotle states, or as principles, as indicated by scholars such as D. Dillon. The "One" serves as the active principle that directly influences the duality of the Dyad ("Two"). The Dyad is multifaceted and contradictory, representing something "great and small," indivisible yet discrete. The Dyad can be equated with matter. The term "matter" here is somewhat conventional, as Aristotle later ascribes categorical significance to this term in philosophy. In Plato's dialogue "Timaeus," the concept we conditionally refer to as matter emerges as a necessity to reconcile the ends in Plato's cosmology. A third, auxiliary cause of existence needed to be introduced (in addition to the eidos and their copies). This auxiliary cause is what things project upon, an intermediary, or the "body of the cosmos." This third element is referred to as the "nurturing mother of any birth." Plato further states, "We must mentally distinguish three kinds: that which is born, that within which the birth occurs, and that after which the born grows." The first refers to visible things, the second to matter, and the third to eidos (ideas). Plato vaguely delineates the attributes of matter, indicating that this aspect is dark and difficult to comprehend. It represents a certain pure simplicity, a receptacle that "both flows with moisture and burns with fire, takes on the forms of earth and air, and undergoes a range of similar states, presenting a varied visage." Thus, the Dyad (the Two) can be identified with Plato's "matter."

From the action of the One on the Dyad, the "ideas-numbers" emerge (at least Aristotle suggests this uncertainly, stating: "eidos <as numbers>"). Regardless, Plato indeed envisioned ideas as numbers or some mathematical entities. Like the Pythagoreans, Plato and his followers attributed special significance to the first four numbers and their sum (1+2+3+4=10), linking them to the three-dimensional world of tangible objects: 1 also represented a point, 2 a line, 3 a plane, and 4 a body.

A crucial element of Platonism is the doctrine of the Soul, which is most comprehensively presented in Plato's "Timaeus." As the World Soul, it "is the locus of forms (the same as ideas—O.K.), with the caveat that not the whole soul, but the thinking part, possesses forms not in actuality but in possibility." The Soul somehow transforms ideas into mathematical objects and then projects them onto matter, thereby generating the physical world. The individual soul relates to the World Soul as the microcosm does to the macrocosm.

Among the questions inherited from Plato was the nature of the Demiurge (the Creator of all). In subsequent Platonism, the Demiurge was equated with Reason, Spirit, and Logos (Nous, known also from Anaxagoras). The key foundational concepts—One, Soul, Spirit, and Matter (underpinned by the "Dyad")—are characteristic of all Neoplatonism and serve as starting points for addressing philosophical problems. The contradictions, ambiguities, and gaps in Plato's teachings were addressed by both close and distant followers of the master, while preserving the spirit of Platonism.

Thus, the progenitor of Neoplatonism was Plotinus. He hailed from Egypt and studied philosophy in Alexandria under Ammonius Sakkas, a proponent of the Platonic tradition. Plotinus arrived in Rome at the age of forty and established his own school there. He articulated his teachings towards the end of his life in separate treatises, which his disciple Porphyry compiled after his death. In total, Porphyry grouped the 54 treatises into six sets of nine. Since then, Plotinus's foundational work has been called the "Enneads" (that is, "Nines": from the Greek εννέα - nine).

Plotinus constructed a philosophical system that has its ultimate goal with an internal structure subordinate to it. The aim or task of philosophy correlates with the goal of human existence in the world. As Plotinus's disciple Porphyry reveals, "the convergence and reunion with the universal God is our ultimate goal," adding that during their time together, Plotinus achieved this goal four times. Such a state is attainable for each of us, writes Plotinus, "because God is not outside us and not far from us, but always with us, and only unobserved by us." Justifying this goal and thereby aiding humanity in attaining bliss and happiness is the task of philosophy. How does Plotinus accomplish this? Let us turn to his metaphysics.

All that exists subsists only through its inherent unity. Entities devoid of unity cease to be what they are. For instance, an army without unity is no longer an army, just as a choir or a herd loses its essence; a house or a ship exists only as long as they possess unity, and once it disappears, they too immediately cease to be what they were. Numerous examples abound. Plant and animal organisms exist as such as long as each represents a unity; the same can be said for health, which belongs to the body as long as all functions are united and ordered, and for beauty, which is determined by the harmonious unity of parts, and even for virtue, as it occurs only when there is a harmonious unity of the soul.

Every entity that we may also call "one" is always equally characterized by both unity and being, such that a lower degree of being corresponds to a lower degree of unity, while a higher degree of being corresponds to a higher degree of unity.

In the world, everything is interconnected and thus imbued with unity. Individuals are linked to species, species to genera, genera to classes, and so forth, all the way up to absolute unity. This entire system (the universe) of things is subordinated to a higher principle of unity, known as the One. It encompasses the totality of being in its infinity. Expressing the essence of the One by ascribing any attributes (predicates) to it is impossible, for that would limit the infinite. It can only be characterized apophatically. The One (Εν) is referred to by Plotinus with various names: the First One, the Absolutely One, God, He, the Good. The One is not something within the order of the existent; "to it, neither the categories of substance, nor quality, nor quantity can be applied; it is neither Spirit nor Soul, neither in motion nor at rest, nor is it located in any place or time." It cannot be grasped by the intellect nor expressed in words.

This One Plotinus considers the First Principle. A principle can only be something that itself is not generated or coming into being, as everything begins from it. The question arises: why does the First Principle, the One, not remain self-sufficient? Here, Plotinus presents a somewhat unconvincing argument: "Can we suppose that the First One, being the most perfect being and at the same time the first and greatest Good, remains closed within itself, or that envy prevents it from allowing something else to participate in its being, or that it is powerless to create—being the force and might of all else? And how could it then be the First Principle? Therefore, we must posit, on one hand, that it generates something from itself, and on the other hand, that if there is something else apart from it, it necessarily originates only from it." From the First Principle radiate circles of creation: what follows directly after the First is the most perfect after it, and thereafter come all other beings that occupy lower degrees of being. Plotinus seeks to rely on universally known experience, for as soon as a being reaches maturity and fullness of power, it does not remain barren but inevitably generates something else, and this applies not only to living beings but also to inanimate ones (e.g., fire heats other bodies, while ice cools them).

What is directly created by the One and follows immediately thereafter, Plotinus refers to as “Nous,” a term that within the context of Neoplatonism is conventionally translated as “Spirit” (rather than “Reason,” as in Anaxagoras). How is Spirit born? The Spirit, born from the One, can be likened, by analogy, to light that is emitted while the source of light remains unchanged and undisturbed. The born Spirit is the image of the One, just as light is a likeness of the sun. The Spirit is filled with essences, and it is nothing other than the eidos and numbers. This stage constitutes what is known as the noumenal world. In the noumenal realm, each essence exists in duality: both as essence and as thought, so that, for example, within it resides the essence of humanity and its eidos, the essence of justice and the eidos of justice, and so forth.

The Perfect Spirit, as Plotinus further contemplates, cannot remain barren and thus gives birth to the Soul, which “on one hand is closely linked to the Spirit, participates in it, perceives it, and is filled by it, while on the other hand, it creates things of a lower order and is connected to them... The Soul concludes the world of the highest divinities.” The specificity of the Soul lies not in thought, which is solely the concern of the Spirit; it merely partakes in the thinking Spirit. Its purpose is the generation of all corporeal existence and its governance.

Thus, in addition to the divine, noumenal world, there exists the realm of sensation, the physical world. How is it formed? Here Plotinus turns to the concept of matter. By this, he means pure substrate, necessary for the existence of the corporeal world. The initial substrate (matter) is devoid of any properties and lacks any determination. It is the Soul that imparts determinate essence to matter through eidos; matter “is shaped into individual objects, and the Soul immediately provides matter with a specific form, for indeterminacy causes it suffering. The Soul seems to fear remaining outside of being; it is incapable of lingering long in the realm of non-being.” Thus, the Soul, as the third hypostasis of the divine, has a dual purpose: on one hand, the creation of the cosmos, governing order within the corporeal world, and on the other, observing the truly existing within the Spirit. The duality of the World Soul manifests in that, while remaining an integral hypostasis of the One, it multiplies into numerous individual souls of objects. Individual souls are also dual; one part, engrossed in the corporeal, becomes filled with passions and finds pleasure in the unworthy, while the other—the higher, spiritual part—does not forget its connection to the Spirit, to the universal order, and does not find joy in lowly pleasures.

Having resolved fundamental metaphysical questions, Plotinus directs attention towards addressing human problems. The human soul, as an individualized part of the World Soul, enters our body according to the general rule governing this cosmic force, so to speak, through ontological necessity, for it performs a guiding function regarding each individual body, nurturing and caring for it, sometimes forgetting its noble origin. The two parts of the individual soul experience the negative influence of matter. Matter is the cause of the soul’s weakness and its evil. The fall of the soul begins immediately upon its reunion with matter: “It descends into matter and weakens, as many of its powers and abilities sink into it, like into a mire, losing their capacity to act; and thus matter occupies the place that belonged to the soul, constraining the soul as if squeezing it, and what it has stolen from the soul, it makes evil; and so it continues until the soul finds within itself the strength to restore its rights.”

Human beings are complex creatures in their structure. Within them, one can essentially distinguish three humans: the first human—one that exists in the Spirit—first in being and most perfect in essence, emanates its light upon the second human—the discursive (the one that reflects)—and the second upon the third, the sensual. At times, only this third, base human operates within us; at other times, it receives something from the higher, that is, the second, and sometimes even energy from the highest human, and thus each of us may embody one or another of the three, depending on our actions. Generally speaking, the soul's communion with the corporeal is evil, while its liberation from the body is good. The soul appears as if ensnared by this world and imprisoned in the jail (the body); it has lost its former state when it was guided by higher plans along with the World Soul, towards which all its essence will now aspire.

Thus, the destiny of the soul is to return to the bosom of the divine. How is this achieved? Plotinus provides a brief answer, reduced to the ritual formula “Cast aside all!” Behind this formula lies a complex and lengthy procedure of purifying the soul and uniting with the One, termed ecstasy. One must ascend a long path from the very “lowest” aspect of oneself to the divine. Guided by one’s own cognitive abilities, a person, ascending step by step from the individual to the universal while relying upon the spiritual within, will reach a union with the One. In essence, Plotinus invites us to believe in his philosophy and to accept it as truth and simultaneously as a path to truth. He introduces a peculiar intellectual faith, that is, a faith acquired through the discursive conviction of an individual’s capacity to achieve liberation and bliss through philosophy.

If Plotinus belonged to the Roman Neoplatonism, Proclus operated in Athens. He bore the nickname “Diadochus” (Successor) because he took over the leadership of the Platonic Academy from his teacher, Syrianus. What we know about his life comes from Marinus, a disciple of Proclus, who composed a panegyric a year after the philosopher’s death. Proclus’s work marks the culmination and systematization of Neoplatonism. He shared the fundamental positions of Neoplatonism, including the ideas of Plotinus, and devoted much of his effort to commenting on Platonic dialogues. His body of work is colossal. Even the treatises of Proclus that have survived to this day span several thousand pages, exceeding both the works of Plato and Aristotle. Scholars say that, in fact, the study of Proclus’s works has only just begun, although they were quite popular during the Middle Ages. Among his philosophical-theoretical works is “The First Principles of Theology,” which consists of 211 clear theses with brief explanations; the grand work “Platonic Theology,” detailing the doctrine of the One, Numbers, and Spirit, applying these categories to ancient mythology. Proclus also wrote extensively on commentaries on specific Platonic dialogues. Particularly well-known are his massive commentaries on “Timaeus,” “Parmenides,” and “The Republic,” which also provide a systematic exposition of Neoplatonism. Here, we will pause only at the most essential differences in Proclus’s style and thoughts.

It is striking that Proclus represents an author of somewhat new formation. He writes systematically, as one might expect from a scholar. He possesses none of the charm of style that still partially characterizes Plotinus. Hegel noted that Proclus lived in a “cult of science” and added: “It cannot be denied that he had great depth of thought and that his views are better developed and more transparent than those of Plotinus; it cannot be denied either that they are articulated in a more scientific manner and are overall superbly expressed.” His style impresses with virtuosity in the most microscopic details of exposition, everything filtered and scrutinized by thought. The renowned scholar of antiquity, O. F. Losev, called Proclus a “genius of reason.” According to him, “he is the unique and irreplaceable genius of rational ecstasy in antiquity.”

In the philosophy of Proclus, as in that of any Neoplatonist, the discourse inevitably revolves around the One, the Spirit, the Soul, and Matter (Nature) in their interconnections and causal dependencies. The specificity of Proclus is manifested in the general law he established regarding the genesis of all things, alongside a detailed analysis of the One and its hypostases, emphasizing and delineating distinct phases of their manifestation. The essence of this law lies in the triadic nature of cosmic development: 1) being in unity (μονη); 2) emergence from it (προοδος); 3) return to unity (επιστροφή). This law expresses the rhythms of reality within all its bounds, from individual moments to universal scales. Such triadicity is discerned by Proclus both in the One and in the Spirit, in the Soul, and in the generation of one from another. This represents a departure from Plotinus. Thus, all that is related to the One, even prior to the generation of the Spirit, exists simultaneously as both singular and multiple. This can be understood through the following passage: “That which exists within itself (in this case, the One), will evidently be both that which contains and the content itself; to ’contain’ and to be ’contained’ will prove far from identical, and thus the discourse surrounding them will not be one and the same. Hence, in this sense, two will exist, and certainly not merely one single unity.”

What the One emits beyond itself, even before the generation of the Spirit, constitutes a certain multitude of absolute, trans-phenomenal units of being (“genadi”), which represent the hypostases of the One. The genadi of being, or the transcendent gods, partake in the creation of the Spirit (otherwise known as the Intellect or Nous), and at the beginning of this stage, the first to arise are the “intelligent gods,” or “gods of the Spirit,” followed by the gods associated with the Soul—“guiding gods” of the material world. The exploration of the theme regarding the “orders of being,” “divine orders,” and “orders of the circle of guiding gods, which resemble” their predecessors comprises the content of the work titled “Platonic Theology.”

The triadic law of creation posited by Proclus should not be interpreted in a chronological sense, as though the interrelated processes of “μονη - προοδος - επιστροφή” are accomplished in a temporal sequence. For Proclus, this is merely a logical distinction, a linear arrangement for the convenience of our linear thought processes. In reality, each of the stated stages is eternal; that is to say, eternal μονη, eternal προοδος, and eternal επιστροφή.

As for other essential details, Hegel already noted a significant aspect of Proclus's teaching concerning three crucial “principles” of all being—“the limited,” “the unlimited,” and “the mixed.” This law, sometimes referred to as the “tercet,” pertains to both the higher hypostases of the One and to physical, corporeal objects.

The historical evolution of ancient philosophy culminates in Roman and Greek Neoplatonism. For the last two centuries, it had to defend itself against the cultural and ideological pressures exerted by Christianity. Even as early as 325, the Nicene Council, convened by the Roman Emperor Constantine I, facilitated the transformation of Christianity into the state religion, although paganism, whose pinnacle achievement was precisely ancient philosophy, had not yet been outlawed. However, in 529, the Byzantine Emperor Justinian (482-565) ordered the definitive closure of all philosophical schools in Athens. The end of the epoch of philosophical antiquity became inevitable. Yet, the profound spiritual treasures did not vanish without a trace. The intellectual inheritances of the great Greeks became embedded in the very fabric of European civilization.