Issn 2181-1296 ilmiy axborotnoma научный вестник scientific journal

ILMIY AXBOROTNOMA FALSAFA 2021-yil, 6-son 
92 
And there is one more point in the teaching of Socrates, which still causes conflicting 
opinions. This is his daimonion, the "divine voice", which, according to Socrates, is heard 
under certain circumstances, as if from within. There are various assumptions about this. 
Someone considers this daimonion the voice of conscience. Someone speaks of a demonic 
feeling, a companion of genius. Someone remembers psychiatry and interprets this daimonion 
in terms of psychoanalysis. But here J. Reale and D. Antiseri pay attention to the fact that this 
daimonion does not dictate anything to Socrates in the field of philosophical principles and moral 
harm. They are justified solely by the power of the logos. This inner voice is, apparently, a sign of 
Socrates, his stigma, which prevents certain actions. It can be called a guard exclusively in 
everything of the personality of Socrates, especially at the moment of intense spiritual 
concentration, ecstatic penetrations. And here's something else to note. The ancient Greeks often 
turned to the oracle, soothsayers, before making important decisions, being afraid to take on 
important decisions. They were waiting for advice from outside. But the daimonion of Socrates is 
the inner revelation of the spirit. A person takes responsibility for his actions, draws a solution 
from himself, and not from somewhere outside. It is very important. This is already a timid 
beginning of the discovery of the inner world of the personality. No wonder Hegel noted: “the 
central point of the whole world-historical turn, which constitutes the Socratic principle, is that the 
place of the oracles was taken by the evidence of the spirit of individuals and that the subject took 
upon himself the act of making a decision.” 
So, Socrates discovered the problem of human freedom, his free choice. He showed that 
the essence of man is his soul, that the body is only a subordinate instrument for the soul. He 
substantiated that the real hero is the one who can, first of all, curb his inner fears, not be their 
slave. 
This man wanted to understand and appreciate life. This was his fateful mission, that 
appointment, without which their further ancient life would have been unthinkable, nor the 
century of subsequent culture. He wanted to bring life into the realm of self-consciousness. His 
appearance was mysterious and scary. He knew something hidden and secret about every person, 
and knew something especially bad in him. But he did not take advantage of this, but, on the 
contrary, covered it up with his good nature. But it was painful kindness! Some would prefer a 
direct reprimand or even an insult than these knowing antics, from which it is not known what to 
expect in the future. All his life he constantly laughed at people, joked at them. And at that time 
his interlocutor's heart skipped a beat, and tears flowed from his speeches. Socrates is the absence 
of any system. He swims all over, shudders, fools around, lisps, giggles, crawls into the depths of 
the human soul, so that later he can jump out unnoticed, like a fish from an open cage, in which 
you only managed to notice a flashed tail. Socrates is a subtle, mocking, whimsical, ferociously 
intelligent decadent who has gone through all sorts of fires and waters. Keep an eye out for him! 
A.F. Losev will evaluate him like this: “A terrible person! The coldness of reason and the 
decadent excitement of sensations merged in him into one great, striking, exciting, even majestic 
and tragic, but also funny, comical, frivolous, fluttering and sophistic. Socrates is perhaps the 
most exciting, the most unsettling problem in the entire history of ancient philosophy.