Circle of Reading

The Trial of Socrates and His Defense

Sud nad Sokratom i ego zashchita

Loading audio player...

(Based on Plato’s “Apology”)

The accusations brought against Socrates consisted of: 1) not recognizing the state religion, and 2) corrupting the youth by teaching them disbelief in the state religion.

What happened to Socrates was the same as what later happened to Christ and to the majority of prophets and teachers of humanity. Socrates showed people the rational path of life that had been revealed to him in his consciousness, and in showing this path he could not help but deny the false teachings on which the social life of that time was based. And the majority of the Athenians, being unable to embark on the path he showed, though recognizing it as true, could not tolerate the condemnation of everything they considered sacred, and in order to rid themselves of this accuser and destroyer of the established order, they brought Socrates to trial, which was bound to end with the death of the condemned. Socrates knew this and therefore did not defend himself, but only used the trial to explain to the Athenians why he acted as he did and why, if they were to spare his life, he would continue to act in the same way.

The judges found Socrates guilty and sentenced him to death.

Having calmly heard the verdict, Socrates addressed the judges with the following speech:

“People will say now,” he said, “that you, citizens of Athens, have groundlessly put to death the wise man Socrates; they will say that I was a wise man, though I am not at all a wise man, only in order to reproach you; they will say that you groundlessly put me to death because, if you had waited a little, this would have happened of its own accord, since at my age I am already close to death anyway.

“But I also want to say to you—to those who have condemned me—that you are wrong if, having sentenced me to death, you think that I do not know how I could have saved myself from death. I know this, but I do not do it because I consider it unworthy of me. I know that you would have been pleased to hear me weep and moan and do and say many other things. But neither I nor anyone else should try to save himself from death in an unworthy manner. In all dangers there are means of escaping death, if only one has no self-respect. To escape death is not difficult; what is far more difficult is to escape evil: evil is swifter than death and will overtake you sooner. I am heavy and old, and death has overtaken me; but you, my accusers, you are vigorous and swift, and something swifter has overtaken you—evil. So that I, condemned by you, will meet death; but you, who have condemned me, will meet evil and disgrace, to which truth condemns you. And I will abide by my punishment, and you by yours. All this was bound to be, and all is for the best.

“Besides this, I want to prophesy something to you, my accusers. For before death people see the future more clearly. So I prophesy to you, my fellow citizens, that you will be punished immediately after my death—with a punishment far heavier than that to which you have condemned me. Namely, the opposite of what you expected will happen to you. By putting me to death you will arouse against yourselves all those who condemn you, whom I was restraining, though you did not notice it, and these accusers will be the more unpleasant for you because they are younger, and it will be still harder for you to endure their attacks. So my death will not deliver you from reproach for your bad life. This is what I wanted to prophesy to you, my condemners. You cannot escape reproach by putting people to death. The simplest and most effective means for this is one: live better.

“Now I address you—those who at the trial did not accuse but defended me. Conversing with you for the last time, I want to tell you of something remarkable that happened to me today and what I conclude from this extraordinary occurrence. Throughout my life, in the most important and most insignificant circumstances, I have always heard a mysterious voice in my soul that warned me and held me back from actions that could bring me misfortune. Today, however, as you yourselves see, despite the fact that something has happened to me which is usually considered the ultimate calamity—today this voice did not warn me or hold me back, neither in the morning when I left my house, nor when I entered here—into the court, nor during my speech.

“What does this mean? This, I think: that what has happened to me today is not only not evil but good. For indeed, one of two things: death is either complete annihilation and the disappearance of consciousness, or else, according to tradition, only a change and migration of the soul from one place to another. If death is complete annihilation of consciousness and is like a deep sleep without dreams, then death is an undoubted blessing, because let each person recall a night he spent in such dreamless sleep and let him compare that night with those other nights and days with all their fears, anxieties, and unsatisfied desires that he experienced both awake and in dreams, and I am sure that anyone will find few days and nights happier than a night without dreams. So if death is such a sleep, then I at least consider it a blessing. But if death is a passage from this world to another, and if what they say is true—that all the wise and holy people who died before us are there—then can there be a greater good than to live there with these beings? I would wish to die not once but a hundred times, just to reach that place.

“So I think that you, judges, and all people should not fear death and should remember one thing: for a good person there is no evil either in life or in death.

“And therefore, although the intention of those who condemned me was to do me harm, I am not angry either at those who condemned me or at my accusers.

“However, it is already time to part: for me—to die, for you—to live. Which of us goes to the better lot—only God knows.”

Soon after the trial, the death sentence on Socrates was carried out when he drank a cup of poison and died calmly among his disciples. The details of his end are described by his disciple Plato in the dialogue Phaedo.


Translator’s Notes:

  • This adaptation of Plato’s Apology simplifies and condenses the original while preserving its essential arguments and spirit.
  • The parallel drawn between Socrates and Christ (“What happened to Socrates was the same as what later happened to Christ”) reflects Tolstoy’s view that genuine prophets and teachers are inevitably persecuted by the societies they seek to reform.
  • The “mysterious voice” (таинственный голос) refers to Socrates’ famous daimonion, the divine sign or inner voice that he claimed guided him throughout his life.
  • Socrates’ two possibilities for what death might be (dreamless sleep or migration to another realm) became one of the most famous passages in Western philosophy, influencing conceptions of death and immortality for millennia.
  • The final words—“Which of us goes to the better lot—only God knows”—express the Socratic profession of ignorance even regarding life and death, combined with trust in divine providence.
  • Tolstoy included this text because Socrates embodied his ideal of the philosopher who lives according to truth regardless of consequences, preferring death to moral compromise.