George Orwell, the author of 1984, is a visionary. He’s not a visionary in the positive and idealistic sense, but a visionary in that he clearly foreshadows the future and uses his knowledge to warn the world against the dangers of totalitarianism. Yet, although he is a prophet focused on the future, he still borrows from the past. Written thousands of years earlier in a different genre, Plato’s The Republic is commonly acknowledged as the first utopia, and its shadow is seen throughout 1984. Orwell skillfully creates what Plato creates in The Republic, a hypothetical state, but one based on dystopian values rather utopian ones. In the process of his creation, Orwell borrows heavily from Plato’s magnum opus, specifically Plato’s censorship and history fabrication, class division, and collectivist society, to show how all forms of control lead to a dystopia, even ones that have good intentions.

Beginners to The Republic might be appalled by the amount of censorship and distortion involved. Plato wants to create a perfectly just society where everyone prospers, but he knows there is a cost: freedom of expression. With an understanding of the malleability of youth, Plato censors any idea that may negatively affect child development. Additionally, what is especially intriguing is a fictional story Plato has his citizens tell their children to promote social order and acceptance. Although Plato has good intentions in spreading this blatant propaganda, it is a clear case of inconsistency in the truth-loving Plato. The erudite English author Orwell borrows heavily from this Greek thinker’s idea of censorship. In Oceania, not a single word of rebellion is allowed and history is continuously rewritten. The antagonist O’Brien states: “We, the Party, control all records, and we control all memories” (Orwell 248). Censorship, in Oceania, has a different purpose. It is not to keep the youth pure and uncorrupted, but it is for the sake of control. Enforced by the syntactical parallelism in the excerpt, the Party simultaneously controls all records, all memories, and all information, leading to a control of all human behavior and thought. Not only that, but the diction choice “we” enforces a notion of collective control and brutal government. The big question that is looming here is, why? Why does Orwell borrow this idea of suppression and distortion from Plato? The answer is that Orwell wants to show how censorship necessarily leads to constraining human thought and ideas. In The Republic, Plato heavily limits the music that can be heard, the stories that can be told, and the arts that can be seen. As a matter of fact, he banishes almost all the poets from his ideal city-state. Certainly, his republic is not as culturally rich as the democratic Athens of his time. In Oceania, censorship has a more direct and clearly evil purpose: to control the masses. Whatever the purpose of censorship is, Orwell’s didacticism tells his readers that even if censorship has good purposes, as it does in The Republic, it still leads to bad.

Censorship is simply one of the many Platonic ideas that flow throughout Orwell’s famous novel. Another idea just as pervasive in 1984 is class division. In Plato’s republic, the highly disciplined rulers or elite guardians make up the highest class. Following the rulers are the almost equally disciplined and educated auxiliaries, also known as guardians or soldiers. The working class, composed of artisans, merchants, farmers, et cetera, is the final group. The class system in Oceania is strikingly similar. The ones in control are the Inner Party members, the equivalent to the rulers. Not only are they the most powerful, but they are also the most well-read and mentally disciplined, evidenced by their mastery of doublethink: “… The subtlest practitioners of doublethink are those who invented doublethink [the Inner Party members]” (215). One can just fathom the amount of psychological willpower needed to simultaneously hold and believe two contradictory ideas, and at the same time be “subtle” and secret about it. This is akin to the musical and literary training rulers undertake to benefit their mind. The outer party members, similarly, parallel the auxiliaries. Although they are not necessarily soldiers, they are indoctrinated like the auxiliaries. They too are literate, subject to heavy propaganda, and mentally disciplined. Finally come the proles, the Orwellian equivalent of the working class. The proles, similar to the Platonic laborers, are the most numerous, least disciplined, and least respected: “… nobody cares what the proles say…” (9). Indeed, nobody in Oceania cares about the proles, as Winston points out. Ironically, they are crucial for they produce the materialistic goods. Similarly, Plato pays little to attention to them. He recognizes the need for a working class, but he certainly does not regard them as important as the other classes. He directly states in a condescending tone that they are much more intellectually inferior. Once again, what is Orwell’s purpose? Just as Orwell’s use of censorship is a stab at Plato, so is his class organization. Orwell, the egalitarian socialist, does not believe in any form of class distinction whatsoever. His theme is that Plato’s class division for the sake of justice is too idealistic. For Orwell the realist, class division never leads to justice, but to mistrust, abuse, and most importantly, a collectivist society that eradicates any form of individuality.

Today, the word collectivism brings a pernicious connotation. Collectivism means a loss of personal individuality, submission to the masses, and a lack of human emotions and connections. Collectivism allows for minorities to rule over and abuse its power. The collectivistic philosophy resonates throughout both 1984 and The Republic. For instance, Plato never speaks of his society’s members as individuals. Instead, they are collectively grouped together as auxiliaries, shoemakers, toolmakers, artists, or whatnot. Similarly, although Orwell’s literary masterpiece focuses on the protagonist Winston Smith, the writer constantly reminds readers how Winston is like everybody else in his society.

Collectivism manifests itself not only in the grouping of the numerous classes, but also in the lack of personal bonds, particularly the loss of the family. Both books paint disturbingly similar pictures: “The wives of our guardians are to be common, and their children are to be common, and no parent is to know his own child, nor any child his parent” (Plato 467). Some may think this is absurd in a utopia, but this is exactly how Plato envisions the family. Essentially, the guardians have wives, picked at random, for the duration of intercourse. After the wives reproduce, they become wives of another guardian until they reproduce again, and et cetera. The children are reared together by the government without any knowledge about their parents. In this way, children and wives are “in common.” In what is almost a direct allusion, Eric Blair adopts it his dystopian society: “But in the future, there will be no wives… Children will be taken from their mothers at birth… Procreation will be an annual formality like the renewal of a ration card” (Orwell 267). As one can see, there is no difference between the two cases. Children are to be raised apart from their parents; sexual intercourse is only for the conception of children; there is no such thing as wives, husbands, or families. And, here is a rare case where both Plato and the Party have the same motive: to destroy any personal relationships because those may interfere with the citizen’s with the government. Orwell’s message is that Plato is straight-out wrong. Destroying the family leads not to a utopia where everyone regards his fellow citizens as family, but to a nightmarish dystopia where the only love there is is love for the government. This gives the government even more power and freedom to enforce its sick schemes.

Both Plato, author of The Republic, and George Orwell, author of 1984, are geniuses ahead of their times. And, as the clichéd saying goes, great minds think alike, for both conceived states based on the same principles of censorship, class separation, and collectivism. What is astounding is how with the same principles, Plato arrives at a utopia and Orwell arrives at the exact opposite, a dystopia. It is clear that Orwell borrowed many of Plato’s ideas. In addition to the aforementioned principles, the structure of the government in both novels is presented through dialogues, and the famous Allegory of the Cave, where a character in a moment of epiphany escapes deceit, replays through the protagonist Winston Smith’s character development. The big difference is that Orwell inverted the guiding principles to reveal how they could never lead to an idealistic utopia, but to more and more government oppression. Whenever freedom or individuality is limited, a dystopia naturally results. Orwell may be an admirer of Greek philosophy, but that does not stop him from criticizing one of the most important Greek philosophers, while at the same time enlightening the readers on the structures of totalitarian government.