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Elements of Platonic theology. The Mystery of the Demiurge

Without prior knowledge of the theology underlying it, Plato’s cosmogony would be incomprehensible. It is precisely this theological foundation that gives meaning to the universe described by the master of the Academy, a point emphasized by Professor G.E.R. Lloyd, who, in his article “Plato on Mathematics and Nature, Myth and Science” (1983), highlighted that the special significance of the dialogue Timaeus lies in its affirmation of the first systematic teleological cosmology. The teleological nature of Platonic cosmogony derives from the theology that underpins it. At the center of this doctrine is the figure of the Demiurge.
Attested since Homeric times, the term demiourgos is used textually for the first time by Plato with the meaning of “creator” (“maker,” “craftsman”) of the entire cosmos, as noted by the same Professor Lloyd. Observing that in classical Greece there were official figures called damiorgoi, Professor Luc Brisson states in the article Demiourgos from the Encyclopédie Philosophique Universelle (1990) the following, “By giving the maker of the universe (macrocosm) and of man (microcosm) in the Timaeus the name demiourgos, Plato takes into account all this institutional background.”
Thus, it is a notion used in the context of the social life of ancient Greece, in regions such as Sparta or Corinth, where there were officials called demiourgoi or demiurgoi. Known in Attica as archontes, these were high magistrates responsible for enforcing laws. In a lexicon of Plato’s philosophical-religious language, Édouard des Places notes the two main meanings of the Greek term demiourgos: a) “worker, artist” (in both the literal and figurative senses); b) “Demiurge.” Although of these meanings, only the latter is of special interest to us—since it refers to God (ho théos in Greek) in his role as the creator of the cosmos—the first meaning is also important due to the quality of being an artisan of creation.
Some modern commentators, such as Cătălin Partenie, argue that the Demiurge was forgotten by the tradition of the old Academy. Contrary to such opinions, there are authors and arguments to prove otherwise. Simone Petrement, relying on Robert Heinze’s monograph Xenocrates (1892), showed that the second head of the Academy recognized a higher God (Zeus hypatos) and a lower God (Zeus neatos). The first god was considered by Xenocrates to be the Monad or supreme Intelligence, and at the same time, the supreme Father and First God; the lower god was identified with the Dyad, both the generator of gods and the Soul of the world (the Dyad is, therefore, a double god). Called by Xenocrates the Father of gods, the supreme God described by the scholar is synonymous with Plato’s Demiurge. If Heinze managed to correctly reconstruct Xenocrates’ theology (which is impossible to prove, given the scarcity of sources), I assert—anticipating my own description of the Demiurge—that it is faithful to the doctrine of the founder of the Academy.
The systematization of Platonic theology, developed by Plotinus, would reach its perfection in the writings of Proclus. In a summarized and simplified manner, the Neoplatonists’ conception can be described as representing divinity in the form of a supreme tri-hypostatic God. The three hypostases (not equal “persons,” as in Christian Trinitarian theology) are, in descending order, the Good, the Demiurge, and finally, the Divine Intellect. This conception varies notably depending on the author who professes it. Differences that are more in form than in substance. To illustrate this conception, I will limit myself to describing the conception of Numenius, a Neoplatonic thinker whose theology has sparked scholarly controversies.
A Platonic Theologian: Numenius of Apamea
One of the most esteemed scholars of Numenius, P. Merlan, following the suggestions of A.-J. Festugière, pointed out that the philosopher advocated for the existence of two gods, the first simple and the second double:
There is a supreme God who can also be called the Good (taghaton), the First Intellect, incorporeality, the One who exists, or Being (on, ousia). He lives in the aiôn, which can also be characterized as a nunc stans. The First God is the Idea (in the Platonic sense of the word) of the Second God, who can also be designated as the Second Intellect or Demiurge, and who is good by participation or the Good. Instead of speaking of a Third God, we should rather say that the Second God is double (but one could also say that if we consider the World, the product of the Second deity, as another God, we have three gods). (…) The main difference between the First and the Second God is that the First is entirely at leisure; in other words, the cosmos is not his work; it is the work of the Second God, the Demiurge.
In turn, in line with P. Merlan, Henri Charles Puech describes Numenius’ conception as follows:
We have, therefore, tiered, three gods or three Nous that Numenius calls: the Father––the Creator––the Creation (pater––poietes––poiema or kosmos) or also the Grandfather––the Son––the Grandson (pappos––engonos––apogonos). But, in reality, the second and the third God are one, distinguished only by the transcendent or immanent aspect or the becoming of the demiurgic action.
Investigating the possible sources of Numenius’ doctrine, one of the prominent members of the Tübingen School, Hans Joachim Krämer, attempts to demonstrate that the three gods attributed by Numenius to Socrates and Plato are, in fact, the three gods––the first simple, the second double) of Xenocrates. A debatable hypothesis, considering the decisive difference between the hierarchy of Xenocrates’ Gods and that of Numenius: for the former, the Demiurge is the supreme God, while for the latter, the Good is the God who holds supremacy within the triad. We could perhaps agree with Krämer regarding the similarity of the structures involved in the theological doctrines of the two philosophers: both have a supreme (unique) God and an inferior (double) God.
As I suggested earlier, all Neoplatonists were concerned with systematizing and explicating Plato’s theology. Determining the extent to which they succeeded in revealing his conception remains one of the tasks of exegesis dedicated to classical Greek philosophy. As for me, I believe that the Neoplatonic tradition, despite the differences between the theological conceptions of its representatives, is much closer to the real content of Plato’s doctrine than most modern and contemporary Platonists. They identify in the Athenian master’s teaching a tritheistic (not trinitarian) theology, within which the Demiurge plays a well-defined role and position.
Plato’s tritheism has exerted a constant fascination on Christian theologians, given some striking similarities with the Trinitarian dogma propounded by the Magisterium of the Christian Church. Even in the modern era, there are interpreters who, like Caesar Baur in An Investigation of the Trinity of Plato and of Philo Judaeus (1853), draw—often excessively—comparisons between Platonic theology and Christian theology. To clarify such matters, detailed exegesis is absolutely necessary.
Presenting the contemporary exegesis of the Timaeus dialogue, Professor Luc Brisson distinguishes three types of interpretations of the Demiurge. The first is the one that identifies the Demiurge with the Platonic Good. The second conceives of the Demiurge as the model of the universe, considering it “the subjective face of the Good, which, according to its objective face, is the highest idea.” Finally, the third interpretation sees in the Demiurge the Nous contained within the World Soul.
Clearly different from Neoplatonic exegesis, all these interpretations are characterized by a rather demythologizing reading applied to the Demiurge, reducing him to one or another of the hypostases of the Platonic tri-hypostatic God. Moreover, these types of hermeneutics risk depersonalizing the imposing Platonic God, stripping him of the substance that grants him authenticity and life.
The Demiurge: Personal God, Father, and Creator of the Cosmos
Commenting on passages from the Timaeus, such as the one where we are told about “the reasoning of the eternally existing god” (34a), Auguste Diès emphasizes that the Demiurge is “the God par excellence, ho théos, the God who always exists.” This statement also implies the transcendence of the Demiurge, who is positioned beyond Being (to on) and Becoming (to gignomenon), and thus beyond his own creation. Concisely and with nuance, Professor Lloyd notes that for Plato, “the Craftsman (the Demiurge) is transcendent, or at least is described in terms that seem to imply that he is transcendent.”
Although they acknowledge the Demiurge’s transcendence, authors like H.-Ch. Puech, L. Robin, and A.J. Festugière consider that, for Plato, he does not hold the role of the supreme God, leaning more toward an interpretation similar to that of Numenius, distinct from that of Xenocrates––for whom the Demiurge is the supreme God. In passage 28e of the Timaeus, the Demiurge appears in the role of “creator” (ho poietes) and “father” (ho pater) of the universe. We can observe, in all these names applied to the Demiurge, the masculine gender that characterizes them, with the Platonic God containing clear personalistic suggestions in line with the classical Greek tradition. By its very structure, the masculine principle is always considered the generator of life, while the feminine principle, through its function as a receptive matrix of the seed, is the bearer and creator of life. The analogy with the concrete procreative functions of human beings, male and female, is certainly implied in such designations.
The Activity of the Demiurge
“The work of a Craftsman,” writes Professor Lloyd, “is described in vivid metaphors in the Timaeus dialogue, many of which were used by Homer and Hesiod in connection with Zeus and Hephaestus.” This observation reminds us once again that “the Timaeus is Plato’s transposition of ancient cosmogonies,” as Auguste Diès notes.
Cătălin Partenie has meticulously inventoried all the terms used in Timaeus to describe the activity of the Demiurge: “deliberates” and “thinks” (logizesthai––30b1 and 34a8); “considers” (nomizein––33b7); “speaks” (41a7 sq.); “expresses his will” (boulesthai––41b4); “is filled with delight” (egasthe––37c7 in Greek) and “rejoices” (euphranteis––37c7).
Through all the demiurgic attributes enumerated, Plato’s vocabulary clearly indicates the personal nature of his God. This character becomes even more evident when we note, by recording each term used to describe the creative activity of the Demiurge, the complete resemblance to the terms used to describe human activity. Beginning with the name given to his God, “the Demiurge,” Plato uses words with precise anthropological meanings, commonly used at the time to describe the activities and functions of his fellow citizens. Based on these considerations, I emphasize, along with R.D. Archer-Hind, that the Demiurge “is a personal God.” The consistent use of personalized appellations, of masculine nouns instead of neutral ones, is a clear sign of personalism. In this sense, an important research subject pertains to (neo)Platonic religious life, an investigation that could fully reveal the vision developed by the tradition of the Academy as a result of a systematic theological interpretation applied to Plato’s dialogues.
The Demiurge and Plato’s Good (tou Platonos tagathon)
While in the case of the Neoplatonists, the Demiurge is never identified with the Good, for modern exegetes, one of the preferred interpretations is that the two aspects of the Platonic god are identical. It would be more prudent to ask ourselves, as Albert Rivaud does, “what is the relationship between the Demiurge, the first active cause, and the Idea of the Good, which dominates the intelligible world?”
Interpreters have widely debated this issue. Some, led by Eduard Zeller, have adopted the identity of the Good and the Demiurge, while others, following Victor Brochard, have preferred a radical distinction between the two aspects. The most profound solution, which attempts to overcome the difficulty of establishing a correct relationship between the Good and the Demiurge, is that of Jean-Claude Nilles. Here is his solution:
The conception that remains, in our opinion, faithful to the Platonic text is the one that sees in the Demiurge an anthropomorphic analogy of the Good, more precisely a mythical figure that belongs to ‘the kind of the Good’ insofar as it expresses an action that, just like that of the Good, perfects the participation between the sensible and the intelligible. Similarly, the Demiurge makes the sensible world ‘as similar as possible’ (mallon homoion) to the most perfect of the intelligible ideas (Timaeus, 30d). This means that the Demiurge can be neither the Good nor the intelligible world.
Personally, I believe that the passage cited from Jean-Claude Nilles contains one of the most valuable solutions recorded so far in the context of specialized exegesis, which I fully recognize as justified. The emphasis on the anthropomorphism of the Demiurge is congruent with a personalist interpretation within a mythological context that does not admit superficial rationalist simplifications.
The Demiurge and the Intellect (Nous)
Another interpretative approach is that which identifies the Demiurge with the nous contained within the World Soul or, according to Luc Brisson, with a transcendent nous that is separate from the cosmos. According to Jean-Claude Nilles, the essential––though less visible––error of this interpretation lies in the demythologization to which the Timaeus dialogue is subjected, overlooking the personal nature of the Demiurge. Against such tendencies, I side with A. Diès, who firmly states that “the Demiurge clearly figures as a personal god.” However, for the French exegete, the relationship between the Demiurge and nous (intellect) is understood slightly differently than by Jean-Claude Nilles, with his solution based on the way the divine is depicted in the Timaeus:
First: as the object of our intellect or of the Intellect. It then designates the intelligible world, the unity that contains and synthesizes all ideal species of living beings, and is called an Intelligible God. Second: As the subject who contemplates and reproduces this divine model. He is then called the Demiurge or God.
Following Auguste Diès and Jean-Claude Nilles, I prefer an interpretation in which the Demiurge is a personal God, who must be understood as such against “demythologizing” readings. My stance stems from embracing one of the deepest epistemological premises of Platonism, which refuses to reduce the Platonic myth to logos. This is why the error of those who, infected by post-Enlightenment Kantian rationalism, do not recognize that for Plato, both epistemic modalities are equally valuable, must be rejected. Indeed, in some dialogues––among which Timaeus can certainly be counted––myth appears even more important than rational discourse.
Provisional Conclusions
Despite the fact that exegetes of the stature of Francis MacDonald Cornford and William Keith Chambers Guthrie deny the religious dimension of the Demiurge, the text of the Timaeus dialogue contradicts them, “To find the maker and father of this universe,” says Plato, “is a difficult task, and once found, it is impossible to reveal him to everyone” (28e).
By raising the issue of searching for and discovering the father and creator of the universe, Plato indicates a form of personalist religiosity, specific to the contemplative life practiced in the Academy. The aim was to establish a profound connection with the God. “The Demiurge is a mythical divinity,” asserts Jean-Claude Nilles, and even though he “can hardly be identified with the Creator of Judeo-Christian theology,” this does not mean he is any less personal or any less an inspiration for religiosity than the God of the Judeo-Christian tradition. Indeed, the Demiurge’s nature as a personal and supreme God (for he is the creator of all other gods) raises a tremendous question: What is the origin of Plato’s Demiurge? Fascinated by such a question, Church Fathers like Clement of Alexandria speculated that there might have been contacts between Plato’s master, Socrates, and some of the minor Jewish prophets (like Jeremiah). As for myself, I do not know whether such a complex issue will ever be fully elucidated. However, I believe we can acknowledge that Plato’s God is foreign to the classical Greek pantheon, especially since he is entirely devoid of the ambiguity of the Homeric gods––whom the Athenians mocked for their immorality.
Pointing out what we might call the “mystery of the Demiurge,” I am content to note here that the master of the Academy far surpassed his idolatrous contemporaries. Here, in the form of a systematic summary, is the conception of Plato’s Demiurge that I have sketched above.
Specifically, along with the Neoplatonists, I consider that at the center of Plato’s theology is a supreme tri-hypostatic god. The three hypostases are, in descending order, as follows: The Demiurge, the supreme hypostasis, the original cause of creation; The Good, the second hypostasis, which will “shape” the final hypostasis; this second hypostasis is the model after which the cosmos is created; The Divine Intellect, the final hypostasis, distinct in its functionality from both the Demiurge and the Good.
In the Timaeus dialogue, the first and last hypostases are especially presented, with the latter depicted in the mythological form of the “noetic living being” (noeton zoon). The Good is implicitly present in fragment 30a of the Timaeus, symbolically suggested, by analogy with the Sun, in the Republic dialogue. I hope all these considerations have contributed slightly and imperfectly to outlining the theological core of the masterful cosmogonic tableau unfolded in the Timaeus dialogue.
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Robert Lazu Kmita is a novelist and essayist with a PhD in Philosophy. His first novel, The Island without Seasons, was translated and released in the United States by Os Justi Press in 2023. He has written and published as an author or co-author more than ten books (including a substantial Encyclopedia of Tolkien's World - in Romanian). His numerous studies, essays, reviews, interviews, short stories, and articles have appeared at The European Conservative, Catholic World Report, The Remnant, Saint Austin Review, Gregorius Magnus, Second Spring, Radici Cristiane, Polonia Christiana, and Philosophy Today, among other publications. He is currently living in Italy. Robert publishes regularly at his Substack, Kmita’s Library.

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