sole educator of Greece, he ranks along with Solon, Lycurgus, and Thales as one of its major educators. Civilized human beings are a complex and variable composite of what generations of poets, legislators, scientists, and philosophers have made them. What Homer may lack in specific, direct impact on a particular place or art, he makes up for by his broad appeal. While Lycurgus gave laws only to the Spartans, and Thales inspired a small group of philosophers, Homer alone produced poems that influenced almost all the Greeks.27 Only Homer, therefore, ever received the title “educator of Greece.” It is also possible that Homer’s influence was deeper. Even when speaking to sophisticated young Athenians, Socrates displays far more interest in Homer than in Solon or other great Athenians, as if the former is a greater rival for his interlocutor’s souls.28 The regime in the soul is more likely to be disturbed by the pleasure of poetry than by the severity of the law (607a6–8, 608b1–2).
Socrates’s final response to the challenge of Homer is to construct a story on his own, namely, the myth of Er. Yet even Socratic mythmaking fails to escape entirely from Homer’s shadow. Rather than invent his own characters from scratch, Socrates chooses to rewrite the Alcinous section of the Odyssey, which chronicles Odysseus’s ascent into Hades (614b2–3; Rosen 382). The new version of the myth recasts many of the greatest Homeric heroes in an unflattering way. Basing his account of these heroes on characteristics given to them by Homer himself, Socrates shows how their love of glory eventually leads to pain and misanthropy; most suffer so greatly as men that they choose to assume an animal form in the next life (619e6 ff.). Ajax, who remembers his humiliating failure to attain Achilles’ arms, prefers the form of a lion (620b1–3; Odyssey 11.620 ff.), while Agamemnon, who hates humankind because of his untimely death at the hands of his wife, prefers to become an eagle (620b3–5; Odyssey 11.460 ff.). The implication is that these mighty Homeric heroes, if properly understood, are more reminiscent of spirited, predatory beasts than human beings. It is perhaps only here that Socrates finally succeeds in calming Glaucon’s own passions for Greek heroism and war. Myth, or the recasting thereof, steps in where philosophy fails (Rosen, 387–88). But the recasting of myth must begin with the poetry of a particular nation: it follows that grappling with the stories of the nation emerges as a necessary complement, even in speech, to the project of founding a city shorn of all ethnic qualities. At the end of the great, otherworldly adventure of the Republic, the philosopher Socrates has not entirely ceased to be a Greek speaking to Greeks.
The nation in the Republic does indeed form one of the many obstacles to the imposition of the rule of the philosophers and the establishment of the heavenly city on earth, but it also plays a crucial role in both political and cultural education. It introduces a political attachment that stretches beyond the interlocutors’ immediate clan, city, and surroundings, and tells stories about human beings and the cosmos that continue to form the basis of their understanding of the world, even after the tale of the heavenly city has run its course. These are matters to keep in mind when we turn to Alfarabi. While his account of the Umma is more elaborate than Plato’s, it never strays far from these essential themes.
The Elusive Other Umma of Alfarabi’s Plato
I have suggested that a useful way to approach the question of Alfarabi’s knowledge of Plato would be to examine Alfarabi’s interpretation of him, and see how it compares to our own. Alfarabi sets down much of this interpretation in a work titled Philosophy of Plato, which purports to describe the parts of Plato’s philosophy from beginning to end (PP 3.1). This memorable treatise gives a summary of most of the extant dialogues. Both the summary of the Republic and the subject of the Umma play an important role in it. By interpreting this work with these two themes in mind, I hope to shed light on Alfarabi’s view of Plato, as well as foreshadow some of his own investigations.29
Plato begins his search for knowledge by investigating a number of generally accepted arts and ways of life in existing human communities. These investigations take place in both the Ummas30 and the cities (PP 6.9, 16.12). However, there are certain important passages in which Alfarabi has Plato speak of one kind of community but not the other. The first such passage occurs during Plato’s investigation of language, whose meanings are ascribed to the multitude of a given Umma. Plato thus recognizes the connection between the Umma and language (7.1–8). The investigations of poetry and rhetoric that follow (7.9–8.5) are not ascribed explicitly to the Umma or the city. However, Alfarabi indicates in the Book of Letters that these arts are closely linked to a particular language and Umma (BL 142.6 ff., #129 ff.).31 Alfarabi’s Plato also acknowledges that both poetry and rhetoric have something to contribute to his quest for wisdom and virtue (7.18–19, 8.4–5). While failing to provide the certain knowledge that Plato seeks, they are clearly worthy subjects of investigation. Poetry in particular has a great influence on human character and way of life (7.14–17). Insofar as the Umma is linked to language and poetry, it plays an important part in the philosopher’s investigations.
While the section of the Philosophy of Plato that treats the linguistic arts mentions only the Umma, certain other sections mention only the city (PP 3.7, 13.12–20). These passages relate to politics: the first speaks of ruling “over a city or group,” while the second treats moderation and courage, both political virtues defined in Book IV of the Republic. Alfarabi recognizes that in the domain of politics, Plato gives strong priority to cities. The city and Umma are further distinguished near the end of the Philosophy of Plato, where the Umma is associated with ways of life, and the city is associated with laws (22.18–23.1). Alfarabi’s Plato perceives a strong link between language, poetry, ways of life, and the Umma on the one hand, and political virtues, ruling, and cities on the other.32
There are also prominent passages that ignore both the city and the Umma. When Alfarabi’s Plato turns from moderation and courage to friendship and love, he drops the city without reintroducing the Umma (PP 14.1–3). Friendship and love lead in turn to a discussion of reveling, seduction, and related qualities, both human and divine, and how they must be practiced by the philosopher (14.4–15.17). This section, too, is notable for its omission of both the city and the Umma, as well as any other particular human community. By making Plato speak anachronistically of the praiseworthy, divine madness that is cultivated in both “mosques and temples” (14.18), Alfarabi implies that his discussion of these themes pertains equally to civilizations as disparate as classical Greece and medieval Islam. Not only philosophy, but also a set of private human qualities that lead up to it, seem to transcend all particular communities. Particular Ummas may establish human language and literary tradition, while particular cities bind their inhabitants with laws. Yet the power of love (14.1 ff.; cf. 22.5), along with the various qualities associated with it, cannot be so easily tamed. With regard to friendship, this point is not difficult to understand: friendships based on love, piety, and philosophy have all been known to survive the most savage wars and political disputes. Most perplexing, however, is the inclusion of statesmanship and royal authority among these same, transnational qualities, since they too occur in passages that contain no reference to either Ummas or cities (13.4–11, 14.5, 15.16).33 It is only a very peculiar kind of statesman or king34 who does not deal with particular communities: he is far removed from the ordinary ruler examined at the beginning of Plato’s investigation, who governs a well-defined city or group (3.7). Since this figure is identified repeatedly with the philosopher (13.7, 14.5, 15.15–16), one may infer that his aversion to particular communities and their norms follows from his uncompromising devotion to wisdom and virtue. Alfarabi soon reintroduces Ummas and cities, but only in order to emphasize that the philosopher-king is too busy reveling in his acts and own peculiar craft to pay much attention to the generally accepted opinions of Ummas and cities, so that he cannot make use of his abilities in any of the Ummas and cities existing in Plato’s time (16.11–16).
Alfarabi’s Plato eventually concludes that the existing cities and Ummas are woefully inadequate: “another city and another Umma,” where the best humans can attain their perfection, will have to be considered (PP 19.12–13). This new, particular community might succeed in persuading the philosopher-kings to participate in it, by elevating them to the highest rank within the city (20.9–10, 22.9–14).35 In the subsequent summary of the Republic, Plato immediately sets out to describe the other city, but seems