Friends,
When you think of the word 'aristocracy'... what comes to mind?
Let me guess:
Pompous people with powdered wigs sipping tea with their pinkies up?
Victorian laughs and Vivaldi's Spring in a velvety Versaillesque garden?
That sort of thing, right?
But what if I told you this is not what the word was originally meant to evoke?
The word 'aristocracy' comes from two Greek terms:
Aristoi, meaning, 'the best', and,
Kratos, meaning, 'power.'
So, an aristokratia is a system where the best hold power.
Alas, in a chicken-and-egg-style conundrum, humans have started mixing up whether...
It is really the best who hold power, or,
It is those who hold power that others deem to be the best.
But those are two different things—and the difference isn't small.
What most people associate the word 'aristocracy' with nowadays is better described as a plutocracy; that is, not rule by the best, but rule by the wealthiest.
In fact, I would say people associate 'aristocracy' even to the bourgeois class—something true aristocrats would find appalling.
You might now be thinking:
But why?
Couldn't the wealthiest be considered the best?
No.
It is a backwards measure.
In Greek, the word aristoi shares the same root as the word arete, one of the (if not the) most influential words in Western philosophy, usually translated as 'virtue'.
To the classical eyes, the aristoi were inherently virtuous.
Hell, Greek aristocracy called itself the kaloi kagathoi, which roughly translates to 'the beautiful and virtuous.'
And something the modern bourgeois just cannot accept is that classical virtue had little to do with money—and a lot to do with war.
That's right: a constant relationship with war was the defining feature of classical aristocracy.
Not tea parties, not Cuban cigars, not trimmed beards and bowties—but war.
The Greek elite was involved in politics precisely because they were responsible for defending their polis (meaning, their city; the very word 'politics' comes from this term).
Consider this:
To the classical man, material riches were often the byproduct of military conquests, which meant the former were often hollow without the latter. Marcus Crassus—"the richest man in Rome"—self-conscious of his lack of military triumphs (especially compared to those of his rival Caesar), risked it all to conquer Parthia, and died a torturous death as a result.
Not even artistic productions, which were back then so highly regarded, could overshadow the glories of war. Aeschylus, the so-called father of Greek tragedy, had on his tombstone engraved that he fought in the battle of Marathon, not that he wrote any plays.
And the greatest Greek heroes—which you could argue were almost religious figures—were all kings and princes, and supremely capable warriors. Achilles, whose powerful wrath is the entire topic of Homer's Iliad, was described by the bard as 'brilliant', 'godlike' and 'perfect', precisely because he was the very best in battle; and Odysseus, the king of Ithaca, was offended most when somebody implied he did not look like a soldier.
My friend, true aristocracy is not cast from silver and gold but from iron and bronze.
Yes, it can entail wealth and opulence, but only if its riches echo the marches of war.
Which makes me wonder…
Is there any place for aristocratism today?
Well, certainly not like it was back then.
But if we wish to become better aristocrats, in the classical sense, maybe engaging in dangerous sports could be a good place to start (see this).
Otium et bellum, leisure and war, as Nietzsche liked to say.
Therein lies true aristocracy.
Upwards,
Yago