Ancient Philosophy

Pre-Socratics

Heraclitus

At present, two opposing views of the Greeks are widespread. Proponents of one perspective—almost universally accepted since the Renaissance to the present day—regard the Greeks with a near-superstitious reverence, viewing them as the inventors of all that is best, as individuals of superhuman genius with whom contemporary people cannot hope to compare. Advocates of the contrary viewpoint, inspired by the triumph of science and an optimistic belief in progress, consider the authority of the ancients a nightmare and assert that it is best to consign much of their contributions to human thought to oblivion. I myself cannot accept either of these extreme positions. I must state that each is partially correct and partially false. Before delving into details, I will attempt to elucidate what kind of wisdom we can still glean from examining Greek thought.

When it comes to the nature and structure of the world, a myriad of hypotheses is possible. Progress in metaphysics, where it has occurred, has consisted in the gradual refinement of these hypotheses, in the development of what they imply, and in their revision to counter objections raised by proponents of rival theories. Learning to understand the universe according to each of these systems is a delight for the imagination and, at the same time, an antidote to dogmatism. Moreover, even if none of the hypotheses can be definitively proven, the true significance lies in uncovering the element contained within them that renders each logically consistent within itself and in accord with known facts. Indeed, almost all the hypotheses dominating contemporary philosophy were initially proposed by the Greeks. Their imaginative inventiveness regarding abstract questions is hardly to be overestimated. In all that I will discuss about the Greeks, I will primarily be guided by this perspective. I will regard them as the progenitors of theories that, despite their initially juvenile character, have proven capable of preservation and development over more than two millennia.

The Greeks accomplished, it is true, something further that has proven to possess truly enduring value for abstract thought: they discovered mathematics and the art of deductive reasoning. In particular, geometry is a distinctly Greek invention, and without it, modern science would be impossible. However, regarding mathematics, the one-sidedness of the Greek genius becomes evident: they think deductively, starting from what appears self-evident, rather than inductively, according to the object of observation. The astounding successes of the Greeks in employing this method misled not only the ancient world but also a significant portion of the modern world. Only very slowly did the scientific method, which seeks to inductively derive principles from observations of individual facts, replace the Hellenic belief in deduction from radiant axioms extracted from the philosopher's mind. Therefore, aside from other reasons, it is erroneous to regard the Greeks with superstitious reverence. The scientific method, despite the Greeks being the first, albeit among a few, to hint at it, is overall foreign to their mindset, and the attempt to glorify the Greeks while diminishing the intellectual progress of the last four centuries hinders the development of contemporary thought.

However, there exists a more general argument against blind reverence for the Greeks or anyone else. The correct approach to studying any philosopher is not to worship or disdain them but to cultivate a certain predisposition that allows for an understanding of what precisely inclines one to believe in their theories, and only then should one invigorate a critical stance that aims to recall, as much as possible, the mindset of that individual who dismisses the opinions they previously espoused. Contempt impedes the first part of this process, while reverence impairs the second. Two considerations should be borne in mind: one must remember that a person whose views and theories merit examination must, apparently, possess a certain intellect, but it should also be acknowledged that no individual has likely attained complete and final truth on any matter. When an intelligent person expresses a view that is utterly absurd from our perspective, we should not attempt to prove that this view is nevertheless correct; rather, we should seek to understand how this view once seemed correct. This exercise of historical and psychological imagination simultaneously broadens the scope of our thinking and aids us in realizing how foolish many of the prejudices we cherish will appear to a future age with a different mindset.

Between Pythagoras and Heraclitus, with whom we shall engage in this chapter, lies another, less significant philosopher, namely Xenophanes. The dates of Xenophanes's life are uncertain; they can be primarily inferred from the fact that he references Pythagoras, and Heraclitus cites him. Xenophanes was of Ionian birth but spent most of his life in Southern Italy. He believed that all things originated from earth and water. Regarding the gods, Xenophanes was very insistent in his freethinking.

All that Homer and Hesiod have said about the gods, Which is considered a disgrace or vice among men: To steal, to commit adultery, and to deceive one another [secretly], ‹…› But people fancy that the gods were born, And they have their attire, their voice, and appearance [just like us]. ‹…› If bulls and lions or horses had hands, To paint with their hands, to create statues as men do, Then horses would draw the likeness of horses, and bulls would depict bulls, Creating images of the gods and shaping their bodies, Exactly as each one has their own appearance. The Ethiopians... black and flat-nosed, The Thracians—red-haired and blue-eyed.

Xenophanes believed in a single God who is not like a man either in thought or appearance and who “...with ease, by the contemplation of the mind, shakes all things.” Xenophanes ridiculed the Pythagorean doctrine of the transmigration of souls:

Once, they say, he was walking and saw a puppy being beaten, Moved by pity, he uttered these words: “Stop! Cease your beating! In the poor creature I discern a soul, as I hear its cries.”

Xenophanes held that in matters of theology, it is impossible to establish the truth.

No one has seen or will see precise truth Among men regarding the gods and all that I convey: If someone does manage to fully express what has happened, They still do not know; in all, only conjecture prevails.

Xenophanes occupies his place among rationalists who protested against the mystical tendencies of Pythagoras and other philosophers, but as an independent thinker, he does not rank among the foremost.

As we have seen, the teachings of Pythagoras are challenging to distinguish from those of his followers. Though Pythagoras emerged quite early, the influence of his school began to manifest only after the spread of various other philosophers. The first among them to establish a theory that still holds sway was Heraclitus. His flourishing activity occurred around 500 BCE. Little is known about his life, except that he was a citizen of Ephesus and belonged to its aristocracy. In antiquity, Heraclitus was renowned for his doctrine that everything is in a constant state of change; however, as we shall see, this is merely one aspect of his metaphysics.

Heraclitus, despite being an Ionian, did not belong to the scientific tradition of the Milesian school. He was a mystic, but of a particular kind. He regarded fire as the fundamental substance; all things, akin to the flame of a fire, are born through the death of another. "The immortal are mortal, the mortal are immortal; by each other they live, by each other they die." In the world, there exists unity, but this unity is formed through the interplay of opposites. "Of all things, one; of one, all," yet much possesses less reality than the One, which is God.

Judging by the surviving fragments of his works, Heraclitus appears to have lacked a genial disposition. He tended toward sarcasm and was a stark contrast to a democrat. Concerning his fellow citizens, he remarks: "The Ephesians would do well to hang each other, however many of them are grown, and leave the city to minors—for they expelled Hermodorus, the best among them, with the words: 'Let none among us be the best; if such a one arises, let him live elsewhere and among others.'" He spoke ill of all his well-known predecessors, with but one exception: "Homer deserves to be expelled from public places and beaten with rods." "None of those whose teachings I have heard have reached the acknowledgment that the wise are distinguished from all." "Much knowledge does not teach one to be wise; otherwise, it would have taught Hesiod and Pythagoras, as well as Xenophanes and Hecataeus." "Pythagoras… fashioned for himself… his wisdom: much knowledge and deception." The sole exception to this judgment was Thales, of whom Heraclitus notes that his "teaching was better than that of others." If we seek the reason for this praise, we find it in Thales's assertion: "Many are bad."

Heraclitus’s disdain for humanity leads him to believe that only force can compel people to act in accordance with their own good. He states: "Every animal is driven to food by a whip"; and again: "The asses would prefer straw to gold."

As one might expect, Heraclitus believes in war. "War," he declares, "is the father of all things and the king of all; it has made some gods and others men; it has made some free and others slaves." Moreover: "Homer was mistaken in saying: 'May war vanish among men and gods!' He did not understand that he prays for the destruction of the universe; for if his prayer were to be heard, all things would vanish." Elsewhere, he asserts: "It should be known that war is universal and that justice is strife, and that all things come about through strife and necessity."

Heraclitus's ethics represent a kind of proud asceticism, strongly reminiscent of Nietzschean thought. He perceives the soul as a mixture of water and fire: fire being the noble principle, while water represents the base. The soul with the most fire he calls "dry." "The dry radiance is the wisest and best psyche." "It is a delight for souls to become moisture." "The unripe youth leads the drunken man who staggers and does not notice where he is going, for his psyche is moist." "For psyches, death is to become water." "It is difficult to wrestle with the heart: every desire is purchased at the price of psyche." "Would it not be better for people if all their desires were fulfilled?" One could say that Heraclitus highly values the ability achieved through self-mastery and despises the passions that distract individuals from their primary goals.

Heraclitus's attitude toward the religions of his time, particularly the Bacchic religion, is largely hostile, though not in the manner of a scientific rationalist. He possessed his own religion, partially interpreting the prevalent theology to align with his teachings, while also dismissing it with evident contempt. He was often regarded as a proponent of Bacchic religion (Cornford) and seen as an interpreter of the mysteries (Pfleiderer), but it seems to me that the relevant fragments do not support this viewpoint. For instance, he states that "the initiations into the mysteries accepted among men are not performed in a sacred manner." This suggests that he may have meant some possible mysteries that would not be "unholy," yet would be entirely distinct from the existing mysteries. He would have been a religious reformer had he not held the common people in such disdain as to deign to engage in religious propaganda.

I present all the surviving fragments of Heraclitus that reveal his attitude toward the theology of his contemporaries:

The ruler whose oracle is at Delphi neither speaks nor hides, but indicates by signs.
The Sibyl utters grim, unadorned, and unembellished words with frenzied lips, and her speech resounds through the millennia, for she is inspired by divinity.
Souls scent in Hades.
The greater the lot, the greater the share that is drawn. (Those who die then become gods.)
To the night-wanderers, magi, Bacchants, Maenads, initiates…
For the initiations into the mysteries accepted among men are not performed in a sacred manner.
And they pray to these statues as if someone wished to converse with houses; they do not know what the gods and heroes are.
If they did not perform processions and sing phallic hymns in honor of Dionysus, they would act in the most shameless manner. Yet Dionysus, for whom they rave in Bacchanals, is identical to Hades.
But they labor in vain, stained with blood, wishing to cleanse themselves with sacrifices, as if someone, having entered into filth, would wish to wash himself clean with filth. A man would be deemed mad who noticed that he acts thus.

Heraclitus believed that fire is the primal element from which all subsequent things arise. Thales, as you recall, thought that everything originated from water. Anaximenes maintained that air was the primary element. Heraclitus, however, preferred fire. Finally, Empedocles reached a commendable compromise befitting a statesman, accepting all four elements: earth, fire, air, and water. The chemistry of the ancients halted at this stage of development, and no further progress in this science was observed until the Islamic alchemists embarked on the quest for the philosopher’s stone, the elixir of life, and the means of transmuting base metals into gold.

Heraclitus' metaphysics is sufficiently dynamic to satisfy the tastes of the most active individuals of modern times: "This cosmos, the same for all that exists, was neither created by any god nor by any man; it has always been, is, and will be an eternally living fire, igniting and extinguishing in measured intervals…"

"The transformations of Fire: first, the sea; the sea is half land, half hurricane." In such a world, one should expect constant change, and constant change was what Heraclitus believed in. However, he espoused another doctrine, one that he regarded as even more significant than the idea of eternal flux. This was the doctrine of the merging of opposites. "They do not understand," says Heraclitus, "how that which diverges from itself is in harmony: a returning [to itself] harmony, like that of the bow and the lyre." His belief in conflict is intimately connected with this theory, for in struggle, opposites unite to generate the movement that is harmony. There exists unity in the world, but this unity is achieved through diversity: "Connections: the whole and the not-whole, converging and diverging, harmonious and discordant; and from all, one; and from one, all."

At times, he speaks as if unity were more fundamental than diversity: "Both good and evil are [one]." "All that is divine is beautiful, good, and just; yet humans deem one thing unjust and another just." "The way up and down is one and the same." "[God]: day — night, winter — summer, war — peace, abundance — hunger [all opposites. This mind] changes, like fire, which, when mixed with fragrances, is called variously, just as the pleasures derived from each differ."

Yet there would be no unity were it not for the opposites that combine: "Good is a contrary for us." This doctrine contains the germ of Hegelian philosophy, which arises from the synthesis of opposites. In the metaphysics of Heraclitus, as in that of Anaximander, the concept of cosmic justice predominates, which precludes the possibility of the struggle between opposites ever culminating in the complete victory of one side. "All exchanges with Fire, and Fire exchanges with all, as goods are exchanged for gold and gold for goods." "Fire lives by the death of the earth, and air lives by the death of Fire, water lives by the death of air, and earth lives by the death of water." "The sun shall not exceed its measure; otherwise, it would be pursued by the Erinyes, handmaidens of Justice." "It is necessary to understand that war is universal, and Justice is strife."

Heraclitus repeatedly refers to "God" as distinct from "gods." "The human way of thinking lacks reason; the divine possesses it." "A man is considered a child before the Deity, just as a boy is before a man." "The wisest of men compared to God will seem like an ape." "The most beautiful ape is loathsome compared to the human race." Undoubtedly, "God" embodies cosmic justice.

The doctrine that everything is in a state of flux is the most renowned of all Heraclitus' ideas, and it is emphasized most by his disciples, as described in Plato's Theaetetus: "One cannot enter the same river twice"; "as one enters the same river, new waters flow." "The sun… is new every day." His belief in universal change, as is commonly held, was expressed in the phrase "everything flows," though this seems to be a dubious assertion, much like Washington's: "Father, I cannot tell a lie," and Wellington's: "Stand, guards, and charge them!" His works, like those of all philosophers prior to Plato, are known only through citations, mostly used to refute them by Plato and Aristotle. If one imagines what would become of any contemporary philosopher known only through polemics against him by his opponents, it becomes clear how remarkable the pre-Socratics must have been, for even through the haze of animosity spread by their adversaries, they still appear great. Nevertheless, both Plato and Aristotle agree that Heraclitus taught that "there is nothing eternal; everything becomes" (Plato) and that "there is nothing enduring" (Aristotle).

I shall return to examine this doctrine in connection with the views of Plato, who persistently sought to refute it. For now, however, I will explore not what philosophy has to say about it, but rather what poets felt and what scientists taught.

The search for something eternal is one of the deepest instincts propelling humanity toward philosophy. It is undoubtedly linked to a love for home and a desire to find refuge from danger. Accordingly, we find this yearning most passionately expressed among those whose lives are most susceptible to catastrophe. Religion seeks eternity in two forms: in the form of God and in the immortality of the soul. In God, there is neither variability nor the semblance of cyclical recurrence. Life after death is eternal and unchanging. The vigor of the nineteenth century has stirred people against such static notions, and modern liberal theology posits that in heaven there exists progress, and within the Divine, evolution unfolds. Yet, even in this conception, there remains something eternal: namely, progress itself and its intrinsic purpose. A certain measure of misfortune may very well restore to human hopes their ancient, otherworldly form: if life on earth is filled with despair, then only in heaven can peace be found.

Poets lamented the passing of Time, which carries away every object of their affection:

The chisel of years carves on life’s brow,
Across the line it draws a scar;
All that breathes on earth’s ground,
Lies beneath the scythe’s striking bar.

They often added that their own verses were indestructible:

And still for centuries, I hope, my verses shall endure,
Exalting your virtues, despite the cruel hand of fate.

But this is merely common literary vanity. Philosophically inclined mystics, unable to deny that all temporal things are transient, devised a concept of eternity not as something permanent within infinite time but as existing outside of the temporal process altogether. Eternal life, according to some theologians, such as Father Inge, signifies not existence at every moment of future time, but a mode of being wholly independent of time, in which there is neither "later" nor "earlier," and thus no logical possibility for change. This perspective found its poetic expression in the lines of Vaughan:

I beheld Eternity that night,
Like a great ring of pure and boundless light,
All silent, for it was transparent;
And everywhere beneath it—Time in hours, days, and years,
Drawn by spheres, and
Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world
And all pertaining to it revolved.

Some of the most renowned philosophical systems endeavor to articulate this thought in sober prose, proclaiming that a patient and consistent reason will ultimately lead us to belief.

Even Heraclitus, with all his faith in change, acknowledges something eternal. The concept of eternity (as opposed to infinite duration), which emerges with Parmenides, cannot be found in Heraclitus; yet, in his philosophy, the central fire never dies: the world "has always been, is, and will be an eternally living Fire." But fire is something that is constantly changing, and its permanence signifies rather the constancy of a process than that of a substance, although this viewpoint cannot be wholly attributed to Heraclitus himself.

Like philosophy, science has sought to avoid the doctrine of an eternal flow by discovering a certain eternal substrate amidst the changing phenomena. Chemistry, it appears, meets this requirement. It has been found that fire, which seems to destroy, merely transforms: elements form new combinations, yet every atom that existed before combustion continues to exist even after the process concludes. Accordingly, the assumption arose that atoms are indestructible and that all changes in the physical world consist simply of the redistribution of immutable atoms. This view prevailed until the discovery of radioactivity, which revealed that atoms are capable of decay.

Undeterred, physicists invented new, smaller units, termed electrons and protons, from which atoms are composed. For several years, it was posited that these particles possessed the indestructibility that had previously been attributed solely to atoms. Unfortunately, it became evident that protons and electrons could collide and explode, yielding not new matter, but a wave of energy radiating through the Universe at the speed of light. Energy was thus to replace matter as a kind of eternal principle. However, energy, unlike matter, does not refine the widespread notion of "thing"; it is merely a characteristic feature of physical processes. With enough imagination, one might equate energy with Heraclitus's fire, but this represents combustion rather than the substance that burns. "What burns" has vanished from modern physics.

Shifting from the small to the grand, astronomy no longer permits us to regard celestial bodies as eternal. Planets have emerged from the Sun, and the Sun itself originated from a nebula. The Sun has existed and will continue to exist for a time, yet sooner or later—likely millions and millions of years from now—it will explode, annihilating all planets and reverting to a state of highly dispersed gas. At least, this is what astronomers assert. Perhaps, as the fateful day approaches, they will uncover errors in their calculations.

The doctrine of an eternal flow, as preached by Heraclitus, is indeed harrowing; yet science, as we have seen, cannot refute it. One of the primary aims of philosophers has been to rekindle hopes that science seemingly extinguished. Accordingly, philosophers have persistently sought something that eludes the dominion of Time. This quest began with Parmenides.