in exposing naked emperors, or in showing that there are no emperors. Cynics are professional critics of convention and thus upset those who seek balance and harmony in their relationships. Cynics have a bad reputation because, like Diogenes of Sinope, they deface the currency, mock, tease and upset others. A day that passes without upsetting somebody is a bad day for a Cynic.
For 800 years the Cynics – the dogs – roamed the streets of Greece and Rome, defacing the currency, upsetting their colleagues and unsettling customs and conventions. In modern times, however, the word cynic has a different connotation. Hypocrisy, deceitfulness, unrestrained egoism, rampant materialism and Machiavellian ruthlessness characterise modern cynics. Yet it was not always so.
The man who inaugurated the ancient school of Cynicism was Antisthenes, an Athenian and pupil of Gorgias, the rhetorician. After encountering Socrates he was so impressed that he advised his pupils to debate with him. From Socrates he learned his frugal way of living, including his disregard of feeling, and he went so far as to demonstrate that pain is a good thing stating that he would rather be mad than feel pleasure. When a priest spoke glowingly about the delights of Hades, he suggested the priest go there sooner rather than later.
Diogenes Laertius tells us that he was a stern teacher who was particularly suspicious of flatterers, remarking that it is better to fall in with crows than with flatterers: the former devour you when you are dead, the latter when you are alive. And when applauded by thieves, he said he was horribly afraid he had done something wrong. When asked what is so good about a life of philosophising he replied: ‘The ability to talk with myself’. He was critical of Plato who, in turn, regularly slandered him. He taunted Plato with being conceited and when he visited his sick-bed, he pointed to the basin into which Plato had vomited and said: ‘The bile I see, but not the pride’.
Antisthenes believes virtue can be taught and nobility belongs only to the virtuous. Virtue is sufficient to ensure happiness: if we are wise we are self-sufficient and will be guided not by the laws of the land but by virtue and thus happiness. If we are wise we know who is worthy of love and make friends of men who are brave and just. We pay attention to our enemies because they are the first to discover our mistakes, acknowledge that virtue is the same for women as for men, count all evil as alien and believe that wisdom can neither be removed nor betrayed.
When he lay dying of consumption his friend, Diogenes, responded to his cries of pain by drawing his dagger. Antisthenes insisted that he wanted relief from pain, not from life. This story, from Laertius, is important in the history of Cynicism because it reveals the symbolic handing over of the keys of the cynical kingdom to Diogenes. Antisthenes, the old dog, hands over the secrets of the cynical philosophy to the pup, Diogenes, a ‘Socrates gone mad’, as Plato called him.
Cynicism, then, was a school of philosophy founded by Antisthenes and developed by Diogenes who chose to live like a canine. Diogenes explained that he was called a dog because he fawned on those who gave him anything, yelped at those who refused, and sank his teeth into rascals. He held up the life of animals as a model for humankind, advocated free love and did in public what is normally done in private, and even what is not done in private. He adopted a vagrant, ascetic life, attacked established values, and used satire to entertain and educate.
Diogenes was forced into exile when his father adulterated the State’s money. This act of defacing the currency became his philosophical motif since he saw himself as the architect of demolition. On reaching Athens, he met Antisthenes and after being forcibly rejected told the philosopher that he would stay near him for as long as he had something important to say.
He took a fiendish delight in pouring scorn on his famous contemporaries, especially Plato whose lectures he considered a waste of time. When he saw philosophers and physicians at their work, he deemed humans the most intelligent of all the animals, but when he saw interpreters of dreams and diviners and those who believed in their nonsense, he thought no animal sillier. When Plato invited him to his home for dinner, Diogenes wiped his dirty feet on Plato’s carpet claiming that he was trampling on ‘Plato’s pride’, to which the ever-sharp Plato replied: ‘He merely replaced one pride with another’. As Plato was conversing about his famous Forms and using such abstractions as table-hood and cup-hood, Diogenes said that while he could see table and cup he could not see table-hood and cup-hood. Unfazed, Plato told him that while he had the eyes to see the visible table and cup, he lacked the understanding by which ideal table-hood and cup-hood are discerned.
He loved witty repartee and was quick with humorous replies to the constant stream of questions put to him. Philosophy taught him to be prepared for every fortune. And the best way to begin philosophy is to carry a cheese around the market-square. He thought it right that Plato called him a dog because he came back repeatedly to those who sold him. When asked whether he really knew anything, he said that even if he was a pretender to wisdom that is itself a philosophy. To those who rejected philosophy, he wondered why they lived, if they did not care to live well. He said that he came from the cosmos, wished to be buried face down because soon down will be up, thought he would be buried by whoever wanted his house. He removed from his door the inscription ‘let nothing evil enter’, so that he would be able to get in. When asked what he was doing with a lamp in the daylight, his immortal reply was that he was looking for an authentic human being. He had no time for people who used ingratiating speech which is like honey used to choke one. He did not feel guilty about begging for money since it was repayment of his due. When boys threw stones at him, he pissed on them and when people laughed at him, he said that at least he was not laughed down. He was never bothered by people who laughed behind his back because he thought the asses probably laughed at them but as they didn’t care for asses, he didn’t care for them. He did not express his feelings more because he preferred to express his reason. He did not pursue wealth because he preferred courage, but preferred above all else, liberty. For him, the most beautiful thing in the world was freedom of speech. He thought that libertines are like fig-trees growing on a cliff: their fruit is not enjoyed by any man, but is eaten by vultures. He compared beautiful courtesans to a deadly-honeyed potion and thought that lovers derive their pleasures from misfortune. When asked about the right time to marry he said: For a young man, not yet; for an old man, never. That human beings choose to be miserable is his definition of madness and education can keep us sane because it is a controlling grace to the young, consolation to the old, wealth to the poor, and ornament to the rich. Overall, life is not evil but living evilly is, and death cannot be an evil thing because, when in its presence, we are not aware of it.
There are two stories of his death. One has it that he was bitten on the foot by a wild dog. The other is that he died at a grand old age by holding his breath. After his death it was written of him that he was rightly named Diogenes, a true-born son of Zeus, a hound of heaven.
Diogenes is not a cynic in the modern sense: he sought virtue and moral freedom in liberation from desire. To this end he rejected social and religious conventions: manners, dress, housing, normal food, decency, patriotism. By declaring that he was a citizen of the world, he coined the word ‘cosmopolitan’. He lived for some time in a wine vat, perfected the art of begging and took a perverse delight in the amused tolerance of his fellow citizens. When the great Alexander came to visit and asked him what he wanted, his immortal reply was: ‘Get out of my sunshine’.
The most important disciple of Diogenes is Crates who renounced a life of wealth in favour of one of practical asceticism. Known as the Watchdog and the Door-Opener, he was warmly received as a man of honourable wisdom, even acting as an umpire of family quarrels. He was revered as a household deity and was favourably compared to Heracles the slayer of wild beasts. Crates overthrew anger, lust, envy and greed in men’s hearts: from such pests as these he freed men. Many people said that he passed his whole life as though on perpetual holiday.
Unlike Diogenes, Crates did not beg, and even more surprisingly, married. A rich and beautiful young woman, Hipparchia, fell in love with the decrepit 60-year-old Crates and threatened to kill herself if he did not marry her. The girl’s parents were horrified
