“The One Before the One” in Plato, Dionysius the Areopagite, and Damascius: The Journey to the Ineffable One

Abstract

The reason I chose this particular theme is because I considered that Plotinus’ One cannot fully satisfy the demand for an ultimate principle. This becomes evident when we study the Areopagite and even more so Damascius, whose notion of the ultimate principle refers to a metaphysical source that precedes the Neoplatonic One. The selection of these three philosophers was based on the following rationale: Firstly, Plato is the founder of the concept of the One. Then comes Dionysius, who speaks of the supra-essential One and connects it with God. Finally, I turn to Damascius, who almost explicitly states that there exists an ineffable reality that precedes the One and is the ineffable One. This endeavor unfolds through a reasoning process developed in three escalating stages, as follows: Initially, in Plato, we encounter the “One that is not one”, which corresponds to light. Next, in Dionysius the Areopagite, we encounter the “supra-essential One”, which corresponds to the invisible light (the place where we can only stand, but cannot see). Finally, in Damascius, we encounter the “ineffable, inexpressible One”, which is not even invisible. In Damascius, what makes this “One before the One” unique is not that we do not know it because, by nature, it is, e.g., invisible, but because it does not allow us to know the reason why we do not know it. Through the connection of these three philosophers, I will aim to demonstrate that this “one” possesses a self-referential existence, establishing its superiority in relation to the One of Plotinus. In the final analysis, the article aims to connect the concept of the supreme principle as God, in relation to this highly apophatic One. Therefore, I will develop the reasoning according to which this “One before the One” can exist.

1. Introduction

In Plotinus, we certainly have a clear distinction between the One and the Intellect (Nous). However, what this paper aims to examine is the possibility that within the One itself, there may also be a distinction, one that separates the absolutely ineffable One from the classical Plotinian One. For Plotinus, of course, the One is the ultimate first principle. It is Dionysius and Damascius who proposed their own versions of the One, and through my interpretive analysis, I find that their conceptions surpass that of the Plotinian One. Now, the fact that in certain cases we refer to this first principle as “God” is because, in Dionysius, God possesses the characteristics of the One. This is the apophatic One, which is not merely “one” but rather the self of God as the cause of the pre-existence of ideas. This apophatic nature of the One is notably described in the first hypothesis of Plato’s Parmenides, while in Dionysius the Areopagite, it is encountered in On the Divine Names (Perfect and One). Ultimately, in Damascius, we encounter the corresponding “ineffable One” in his work “Problems And Solutions Concerning First Principles (part one: On the Ineffable)”. I will attempt to connect these three notions of the One to demonstrate that the One is ultimately the selfhood of God and primarily to explain how the One serves as the cause of the generation of all things without yet bringing them into existence. The One in its pure essence is essentially the knowledge of beings, not through the beings themselves but through the knowledge of God, since He is the cause of beings. If, for the human mind and humanity, the obstacle is the self, and therefore the need for absolute abstraction, then in God, knowledge is inherently His mind, for He is the cause of all beings.

Damascius proposes a much more intensified version of the One in terms of its inaccessibility, as he aims to emphasize even further the unapproachability of the One. In seeking to highlight the power of the supreme principle—which represents a more advanced interpretation of the One—Damascius identifies a new criterion. This criterion is that, with regard to this One, we know that we do not know the reason why we do not know it. As a criterion, this is stronger than that of Dionysius, where we know that the One is something invisible, because even invisibility is a specific property. Therefore, when we are dealing with the strongest possible criterion, as is the case with Damascius, the conclusion arises that there exists a version of the One even more inaccessible than Plotinus’ One. The problem with Plotinus’ One is that it still possesses a kind of selfhood (that is, its own One engages in intellection). This is problematic, because when something thinks, it becomes dual, and at the same time, we know it becomes the cause of Intellect. Even worse, we also know the reason why we cannot know the One, since our very act of thinking is the obstacle to it. In contrast, in Damascius, the ineffable One is, at best, the cause of the One but in no case the cause of Intellect. All of this impacts Being, which ultimately does not even know the cause of this inaccessibility. In essence, it is the ineffable One itself that produces this incapacity within Being. The result is that we must consider that within the One itself, this distinction exists, and in this sense, the Plotinian One is limiting. This interpretive distinction, however, always takes place within the One and is in no way connected to Intellect (Nous).

The ineffable One is the term we encounter in Damascius, and it is this form of reality that expresses superiority in comparison to Plotinus’ classical One. The distinction takes place within the One itself, and the ineffable One is that which precedes the more conventional One of Plotinus. Plotinus’ One, to some extent, possesses selfhood and even engages in intellection. We know that the Plotinian One is light, that it does not participate in essence, and that it is the cause of Intellect and subsequently of beings. There is a connection and a causal explanation for the origin of both Intellect and beings. In contrast, the characteristics of the One in Damascius are far more inaccessible. In Damascius, the ineffable One has no self, does not think, is the cause of the One itself, is not connected to Intellect, and—most importantly—we do not even know why we cannot know it. The inaccessible One is in no way connected to beings, and I believe its main function is to explain, as cause, the origin of the One itself. Its referentiality is solely toward the One, and it is not a cause of beings.

The occasion for writing this paper stems from the realization that the classical Neoplatonic One of Plotinus cannot bear the burden of the ultimate principle. The level of abstraction and inaccessibility of God emphasized by later Neoplatonists exerts such pressure that the Plotinian One is insufficient to express the concept of God. In other words, something prior to the One is needed to articulate the magnitude of the ineffable. Nearly all philosophical views concerning the notion of the One focus on the fact that this One, as God, exists—that is, is—but we do not know what it is. Very characteristically, Ramelli (2014, p. 170) notes that the One, as God, exists, but its essence is incomprehensible. “What humans can know about God is that God is, but not what God Is” (Ramelli 2014, p. 171). Ramelli expresses a traditional thesis, according to which the divinity is unknowable in its essence and therefore also ineffable but knowable through its activity. “Indeed, What Is cannot be grasped from itself alone, without anything else, but only through its works, either qua creator or qua ruler” (Ramelli 2014, p. 170). Ramelli (2014, p. 171) also adds that “The people were standing at a distance, but Moses went into the darkness where God was. Philo and his followers interpret this darkness as a reference to God’s unknowability. Non-seeing is a metaphor of human cognitive impairment before the divine” (Ramelli 2014, p. 171).

Viewed in this way, the concept of the One possesses selfhood (i.e., the One has a self because it is thinking), and, most importantly, when something takes on the character of the One, it becomes inaccessible. The issue I raise in this article is that, through allegories such as the notions of light or darkness, the concept of the One gains meaning as something that does not comprehend because we know why we do not know. For example, I do not see because there is no light. This means that when I know the cause, I gain access to the object of inquiry, even if I do not know what that object is. Similarly, I know that the very act of intellection that I possess hinders access to the One. This knowledge of ignorance is expressed through the vision of the invisible. It is invisible, because it cannot be seen due to our cognitive perception of the self that comprehends. However, the invisible exists and allows us to communicate with it indirectly. This is exemplified by Conway (Conway-Jones 2021, p. 3) as follows: “The life of Moses relates three principal theophanies: the burning bush (1.20; 2.19–26); the darkness, within which is revealed the tabernacle not made with hands (1.46–56; 2.162–201); and Moses’ vision, from within a hole in a rock covered by God’s hand, of “the back of the One who called him” (2.219–255)” (Conway-Jones 2021, p. 3).

At the same time, Conway considers light to be the burning bush, while also incorporating elements of the voice of God emerging from the cloud. The “light” obviously refers to the burning bush. She adds that “The lights that Dionysius1 refers to, which he describes as “flashing forth pure and widely diffused rays”, correspond to the lightings of Exodus 19:16 and the flashes of 20:18, neither of which Gregory mentions, talking only of “a fire shining out of the darkness”, which “hovered all around the sides of the mountain”, drawing on Exodus 19:18” (Conway-Jones 2021, p. 5). This particular kind of light becomes the reason why God is not visible. Therefore, He is not invisible by nature, but there is a cause for His invisibility. In other words, I mean to say that in these ways, the concept of the One remains inaccessible due to the absolute cognitive inability of the subject to perceive it. However, the One itself is not so indeterminate regarding its existence.

However, if we follow the reasoning of Damascius, which holds that I do not know why I do not know, the conclusion is that this One is insufficient to express the inaccessibility of God. In some sense, we would need a One before the One, whose distinctive characteristic would be absolute disconnection, not only from epistemological criteria but also from ontological ones. The Neoplatonic One in the Parmenides, even in its apophatic form, is tied to the resulting hypotheses, where, even when the One is not One (i.e., does not exist), we understand this to be because it does not participate in anything. In Dionysius, God is the Being (“Ο Ὢν ” which is of course beyond the being but under the consideration it has existence), so once again, we know that He exists. In all these allegories, whether it be Plato’s cave, the notion of light, or the voice of God, significant questions arise regarding the relationship between consciousness and experience. The experiential element is also found in Plotinus,2 who is said to have achieved union with the One. Moreover, the two stages of ascent and descent include the dynamics of experience at the mystical level.

This is a perspective I adopt in conjunction with the view that the obscurity of God relates to the extent to which the cognitive perception of the idea of self acts as a hindrance to the transition toward the One. A contrasting and rather provocative view is held by Turner (1998), who, according to McGinn (McGinn 1997, p. 310), strongly opposes the concept of experience. According to McGinn (1997, p. 310) a key to Turner’s argument is the distinction between what he calls “first-order language” of the experience of negativity and “second-order language” of the negativity of experience (see pp. 34–35, 45–46, 250, 252–53, 257, and 270–72 in Turner’s book). The former describes what can be put into speech regarding interior states, while the latter “reveals” God as being beyond all experience, negative or positive. McGinn notes that “Beginning from the observation that metaphors of interiority, ascent, light and dark, and union with God are both traditional in Christian spirituality and still current today”. Turner argues that what distances medieval uses of these metaphors from contemporary uses is that in the Middle Ages they were employed dialectically in order to critique “religious experience” and even the customary sense of the self, whereas in a broad trajectory stretching back at least to the fourteenth century, these metaphors have been evacuated… of their dialectics and refilled… with the stuff of ‘experience’, “a development Turner labels “experientialism”3 (McGinn 1997, p. 310).

Ramelli places great emphasis on the works of God, through which she is led to the conclusion that God exists. She does not examine what God is in Himself. On the other hand, Conway understands the concept of light as the means through which God is not visible, since light prevents vision.4 Additionally, she considers darkness as an expression of the subject’s inability to see. In contrast to these views, I believe that darkness has an entirely constructive character, as it refers to the removal of all impressions and opens the way to non-thinking, which is the ultimate goal. Furthermore, I think Turner’s approach has the major weakness of getting lost within its own argument. That is, the linguistic-analytical approach refers to the problem of logic created by the ambiguity between thought and external reality. Nevertheless, it is precisely this condition that we seek when trying to transcend reason.

So far, we have examined the framework within which the concept of the One is connected to God. Additionally, this first principle was presented in terms of how it is conceived within Neoplatonic terms. In the continuation of the article, a detailed analysis of the concept of the One in each philosopher will follow, starting, of course, with Plato.

2. Plato

The Platonic dialogue Parmenides undoubtedly centers on the concept of the One, but its contribution extends further, highlighting two significant issues. The first pertains to the relationship of the One with itself, which is particularly relevant to this article, as it explores the self of God and how it transcends both the sensible world and the realm of ideas. The second critical issue in the dialogue is the relationship between the One and the Others, which sheds light on participation, Forms, and the divisible world. While the One serves as the principal connecting link I aim to emphasize between Plato and Dionysius, there is, I believe, an additional dimension that underscores the Areopagite’s Platonism when correlated with Plato’s Parmenides. The dialogue is structured into eight hypotheses, whose arrangement and sequence are far from arbitrary. Instead, they delineate and substantiate a conceptual mechanism. The first four hypotheses address the consequences of the existence of the One and its relationship to both the “One” itself and the “Others.” In contrast, the fifth through eighth hypotheses examine what occurs when the One does not exist, considering the self of the One and the Others in their resulting states. In the Areopagite framework, the One can be equated with God, while the Others represent ideas and the sensible world.5

The progression of the hypotheses begins with the first hypothesis, where the apophatic One is presented, followed by a descending trajectory. This structure, I argue, parallels the two corresponding trajectories found in Dionysius the Areopagite. In Dionysius, there is an apophatic ascent toward God, ultimately leading to His description, and a cataphatic descent, which reveals how the divisible entities, humans, and divine attributes emerge from a human perspective. In Plato’s Parmenides, the trajectory is singular, beginning from the supra-essential apex and descending into nothingness. In the first four hypotheses, we observe the One described through apophasis, followed by a descent with the One still present. From the fifth to the eighth hypothesis, however, there is a negatively descending path, where the absence of the One entirely undermines the existence of the Others. Consequently, the structure of the hypotheses reflects, to some degree, the apophatic and cataphatic pathways of Dionysius, reinforcing the Platonism I seek to highlight.

In Plato, we encounter the notion of “nothingness” in the eighth hypothesis of the Parmenides. There, “nothingness” corresponds to a state in which the One, by definition, does not exist. In contrast, in the first hypothesis, the One does exist, with the crucial distinction that it does not exist for beings, since it does not participate in them nor in Being itself. As for the supra-essential or the ineffable One, these too exist, but with the very critical parameter that they do not participate—not in Being this time—but in the One. Thus, from the perspective of the One, they do not exist, but from their own perspective, they do. In general, although we are situated within a mode of reality that is entirely inaccessible, the distinction from “nothing” must be emphasized. Whether we are speaking of the supra-essential or the ineffable One, these do exist, and the inability to approach them stems from their non-participation in Being and the inherent incapacity of beings to conceive of singular structures (since thought only grasps multiplicity, as the contents of thought are concepts). “Nothingness,” on the other hand, is not the absence of meaning but the negation or devaluation of meaning. In this sense, “silence,” non-thinking, and the ineffable are not “nothing” but rather constitute a higher-order reality and the cause of the reality of Being. Non-being is a state that has arisen through the reduction of meaning to Being by way of abstraction, in which thought is confronted with itself. “Nothingness” is a condition without any premise, one that cannot lead to content.

Plato, in the first hypothesis, describes “the One” as something that does not exist in any way. This absolute abstraction is undoubtedly articulated with the human perspective as its reference point, where everything is removed to describe the ultimate principle. The scale of this abstraction is total, aiming to lead us to the conclusion that “the One” is not even “one.” However, it does not become “nothing”; rather, it exists without participating in essence. This is where the essential connection with the Areopagite comes into play, which I aim to establish. That is, “the One”, existing for itself, remains inaccessible to us. In this sense, as we see in Parmenides, it cannot exist either within something else or within itself. The reasoning is that if it existed within itself, “the One” would be doubled, as there would then be both a container and content. From this text, we can observe that the fundamental characteristic of the One is the absence of content. When the One is itself, then it is no longer One because we have both the One and the knowledge that it is One. However, if it has no content—meaning no self—then it will be nowhere, and thus, the implication arises that this One will not be located anywhere. Essentially, I present this text to show that the existence of content is what grants something a self. The cost, however, is that the entity (which has content and is usually the one that thinks) becomes dual.

-Certainly not.

-But if, on the other hand, one were in itself, it would also be contained

by nothing else but itself; that is to say, if it were really in itself;

for nothing can be in anything which does not contain it.

-Impossible.

-But then, that which contains must be other than that which is contained?

for the same whole cannot do and suffer both at once; and if so, one

will be no longer one, but two?

-True.

-Then one cannot be anywhere, either in itself or in another?

(Plato n.d., 138b)

The conclusion is that “the One” does not exist anywhere. What is particularly fascinating is that, in Parmenides’ reasoning, conclusions arise that even when “the one” is one, it consequently follows that “the One” is not one. That is, when there is similarity with itself, this ultimately reverses itself; no matter how much “the One” attempts to be one, it ends up functioning negatively concerning its intended essence. The argumentation continues with examples relating to the relationship of “the One” with magnitude, time, and the “other”, where all the examples aim to demonstrate that any form of participation of “the One” in something immediately deprives it of its apophatic existence. In other words, any kind of participation causes “the One” to become “a One” and therefore ceases to be a supra-essential One. “The One” will only truly become One when it ceases to be One. In this sense, as a final outcome, the aim is to grasp the meaning of “the One” (i.e., not many) but ultimately to transcend even that meaning so as to attain a supra-essential existence.

This absolute abstraction of meaning is achieved at the culmination of the reasoning in the first hypothesis, where “the One” neither exists, nor is, nor can be spoken of, nor can be known. “The One” does not participate in time; hence, it neither came into being, nor exists in the present, nor will it ever come into being. Consequently, it follows that “the One” cannot in any way participate in essence and therefore cannot “exist” in any manner, ultimately leading to the conclusion that “the One” cannot even be one. If “the One” is one, then it implies that it exists, and thus, it is not One but something else. This corresponds to the paradox of how something intangible or indivisible can exist. On the other hand, from the perspective of itself, if “the One” is not one, nor like anything else, then “the One” precedes the One and thus exists by not existing. Here, the apophatic “One” reaches its peak, becoming a bearer of meaning, since it sustains and encompasses all things. Yet, it accomplishes this by existing prior to and within all things. This is precisely why, at the culmination of the first hypothesis, we encounter the following phrase: Then there is no name, nor expression, nor perception, nor opinion, nor knowledge of it?

-There are none.

-Then the one cannot possibly partake of being?

-That is the inference.

-Then the one is not at all?

-Clearly not.

-Then the one does not exist in such way as to be one; for if it were and partook of being, it would already be; but if the argument is to be trusted, the one neither is nor is one?

-True.

-But that which is not admits of no attribute or relation?

-Of course not.

-Then there is no name, nor expression, nor perception, nor opinion, nor knowledge of it?

-Clearly not.

-Then it is neither named, nor expressed, nor opined, nor known, nor does anything that is perceive it.

-So we must infer.

(Plato n.d., 142a)

From this excerpt, it is evident that this apophatic One possesses all the characteristics that render it inaccessible. It serves as proof that we are led to it through the negation of everything. Here, the general framework of the One is essentially established, with the key aspect being that it does not participate in anything and is unreachable by intellection. Plato, in this context, outlines the supreme principle in broad terms, without, of course, introducing any internal distinction within the One. Nevertheless, the first hypothesis in Plato’s Parmenides brings to the fore the One in terms of its fundamental property: that the One is One when it is nowhere and cannot be known in any way. The fact that we cannot say anything about the One is, in essence, a general statement that anticipates the absolute ignorance signified by the ineffable. This very non-existence is what allows “the One” to pre-exist, and this is precisely what is implied at the conclusion of the first hypothesis, where the analysis of the subsequent hypotheses will follow to establish the foundation of “the One.” At this stage, however, the initial nature of “the One” is introduced, this distinctive existence, which is prior even to “the one” itself. The ultimate conclusion is that the One assumes the role of a cause without itself participating in any form of “being.” This ambiguous mode of existence that now defines it is articulated by Darren Gardner (Gardner 2018, p. 38), who points out that it is a “One” that must not belong at all to the level of Platonic ideas. His statement is particularly striking:

“I argue for a different view of the subject ‘one’ [ἓν] as it is present in the exercises. I believe that the ‘One’ taken as the subject of the hypotheses can be understood as an open or indeterminate ‘One’. This view has several important benefits: first, it avoids conflicts that emerge between the subject if it is understood as a form (or as Parmenides’ ‘One’ understood as “the all” [128b]) and the conclusions that are drawn about that subject; … Another conflict can be seen in the second hypothesis, which concludes about the attributes of the ‘One’ in a way that would undermine the independent character that is basic to a form. For the ‘One’ from this hypothesis would hold attributes like multitude and divisibility [144e], which render it a kind of ‘One’ that is a one of many. As such, this kind of ‘one’ is in conflict with the essential “itself by itself” nature of a form [130b7].”

(Gardner 2018, p. 38)

This discussion by Gardner inevitably leads to an unavoidable conclusion: this ambiguous One becomes the cause of the Idea Form of the One. The idea of the One is not merely an idea but refers to the One that encompasses that which contains everything. It is a variation of the idea of the Good6 and, in this sense, the cause of all Forms. Seen in this way, apophatism emerges, for here we encounter a new transcendental One, which is inside of the total initial Plotinian One. This reasoning is also highlighted by Darren Gardner (Gardner 2018, p. 53), who aims to emphasize the ambiguity of the One. His argumentation relies on semiotics and the logic of contradiction. More specifically, he connects the first two hypotheses, where, despite sharing a common premise—that the One exists—different conclusions ultimately arise. In the first hypothesis, the One ultimately does not exist, whereas in the second, it exists along with the others (a condition that refers to the characteristics of Nous). These two contradictory conclusions, derived from the same initial premise—the existence of the One—are addressed and explained through the acceptance of this distinctive existence of the One as ambiguous.

“The problematic view of the contradiction becomes clear if we rephrase the premise and the conclusions in the following way, taking the assumption that the ‘one’ is the form of the ‘One’: ‘If the form ‘One’ is’ (premise), then the form ‘One’ in all ways is not (conclusion of hypothesis 1); and, ‘If the form ‘One’ is’ (premise), then a form ‘One’ in all ways is (conclusion of hypothesis 2). Finally, if the form ‘One’ could admit of two contradictory accounts, then that form would not be “itself by itself”, which is a defining characteristic. For, having two contradictory and mutually opposed articulations, the form admitting of both would betray the essential unity required of a form. On the other hand, seen as an ambiguous subject, the indeterminate subject of the premise can allow for different sets of conclusions. If we embrace the idea that the premise is not inquiring about the form of ‘One’ but instead suggests in the conclusions an ambiguous ‘One’, the two different depictions can be opposed and even contradictory without undermining the premise: ‘If some ‘One’ is’ then One conclusion can be that this One is ‘a One-that-is-not’ and another ‘a One-that-is’.”

(Gardner 2018, p. 53)

To sum up with Plato, the term “hierarchical One” refers to the Plotinian hypostasis of the One in its general sense, as that which does not participate in Being and is, of course, distinct from Intellect (Nous). However, since this article examines the nature of the One, I proceed to make a distinction within the One itself. In this distinction, I identify a domain that is even more inaccessible, and although this new One is integrated within the general One, it nevertheless proves to be superior. Because this is a realm where the element of inaccessibility has been further intensified, it ends up being characterized as a controversial ambiguous One when viewed as a whole, so as to differentiate it from Plotinus’ One, whose nature is more measurable. Furthermore, within the “hierarchical One”, the One functions as the cause of Intellect (Nous), and Intellect, in turn, as the cause of Soul. Here, the One is the cause of multiplicity. In contrast, this controversial ambiguous One is the cause only of the One itself; it explains the origin of the One, not of beings. This controversial One is the cause of the idea of the One, and conceptually, it points toward the ineffable One. On the other hand, the “hierarchical One” is that of Plotinus, which clearly does not participate in Being but is the cause of Intellect.

3. Dionysius the Areopagite

To establish this connection between Dionysius and platonic Parmenides, it is crucial to elucidate the Areopagite’s Platonism. In The Mystical Theology, Dionysius advocates a radical via negativa (way of negation), denying all affirmations about God to reach the divine mystery. This mirrors the Parmenides, especially the idea that the One is unknowable, has no predicates, and is beyond being, which Dionysius explicitly echoes. In On the Divine Names, Dionysius explicitly states that God creates the angels before their existence as angels and all other forms from His very self, first as pure essence and then leading them into existence.7 In other words, all things can exist as ideas without necessarily being brought into existence, as indicated by the scriptural phrase “Who knoweth all things before their birth.” This approach, firmly rooted in Platonism, significantly shapes the understanding of God’s nature as the One in terms of apophasis. The divine intellect8 does not comprehend beings through the beings themselves but through its own self, standing in opposition to inductive reasoning and its reliance on external entities. However, this comes at the cost of inaccessibility to truth and God. Hence, it becomes necessary to strip away all things and embrace the knowledge of unknowing.

Knowing and creating angels before the angels were, and knowing all other things inwardly and (if I may so put it) from the very beginning, and thus bringing them into existence. Τhis is taught by the Scripture when it saith “Who knoweth all things before their birth.” For the Mind of God gains not Its knowledge of things from those things; but of Itself and in Itself It possesses, and hath conceived beforehand in a causal manner, the cognizance and the knowledge and the being of them all. And It doth not perceive each class specifically, but in one embracing causality It knows and maintains all things—even as Light possesses beforehand in itself a causal knowledge of the darkness, not knowing the darkness in any other way than from the Light. Thus the Divine Wisdom in knowing Itself will know all things: will in that very Oneness know and produce material things immaterially, divisible things indivisibly, manifold things under the form of Unity. For if God, in the act of causation, imparts Existence to all things, in the same single act of causation He will support all these His creatures the which are derived from Him and have in Him their forebeing, and He will not gain His knowledge of things from the things themselves, but He will bestow upon each kind the knowledge of itself and the knowledge of the others. And hence God doth not possess a private knowledge of Himself and as distinct therefrom a knowledge embracing all the creatures in common; for the Universal Cause, in knowing Itself, can scarcely help knowing the things that proceed from it and whereof It is the Cause. With this knowledge, then, God knoweth all things, not through a mere understanding of the things but through an understanding of Himself.

(Rolt 1920, chap. 7, para. 2, p. 78)

Divine wisdom possesses selfhood and, by extension, its intellect precisely because what it knows pertains to pre-existent (before actualization) entities that pre-exist due to their emanation from divine wisdom itself. In other words, divine wisdom knows the material in an immaterial manner, the divisible in an indivisible manner, and the manifold in a unified manner. Seen in this way, the selfhood of God is not an impediment, as the reference point is the pre-existent, which has God as its cause. Conversely, when the human subject knows itself, the operation of its intellect entails that it understands divisible and material things, as the human mind is not the cause of existence, unlike God. God, by contrast, has direct access to the very ideas because He is their creator. When humans attempt to know ideas through beings—that is, inductively rather than directly—this mediation, rooted in our selfhood, hinders the vision of God. The essence of the One is God’s selfhood,9 and selfhood means not only the one who thinks but also the one who sustains and unites. The One in its essence knows and generates all things. Thus, God (DN VII. 2 196), as the cause of beings, does not know beings through beings but through His selfhood. In this sense, His selfhood is not an obstacle but is the bearer of knowledge. Therefore, He grants knowledge to beings while simultaneously bestowing existence upon them by providing the material and the divisible (the transition from concept to actualization).

In Plato, this idea is embodied in the concept of the Good, which serves as the prerequisite for vision, light, and the cause of existence, whereas in Dionysius, it is represented by the Christian God. Dionysius, regarding the name of God (despite the apophatic One transcending all names, as we will see), distinguishes two names of semantic significance: the Good (Agathos) and the Being (O Ὢν). The name Agathos refers to the supreme good and virtue, while O Ὢν signifies one who exists from Himself. Specifically, God as O Ὢν embodies the Platonic idea of the Good, as He constitutes the proven existence of ideas, surpassing the richness of the visible world. While both Agathos and O Ὢν encompass critical divine attributes, this article focuses on the name of the Pure One, which I believe conveys God’s most crucial and superior attribute: the manner in which He acquires selfhood. Selfhood is inextricably linked to intellect. However, since this One possesses its own distinctive form of intellect, it follows that it must also possess selfhood. Through the One, Plato and Dionysius achieve a perspective of God’s vision of Himself rather than a perspective mediated by beings, which is realized in the apophatic One. The apophatic One not only grants selfhood to God, as viewed from His perspective, but also serves the affirmative theology of Dionysius by enabling the human mechanism of abstraction to approach the divine nature. This type of mechanism, which expresses abstraction from oneself, is described very characteristically by Golitzin (1993, p. 100).

“To be sure, Dionysius uses Proclus’s triad of abiding (mone), procession (proodos), and return (epistrophe) as the frame work of his system (Dodds 63, 38, cf. Brons 77, 168ff), but here, too, he works significant changes. God’s procession or “ecstasy” in creating is the product of his love or eros (Suchla 188:6 for God’s ekbasis, 159:9–12 for eros), with which he as well both works to sustain creation and to bring the creature back to himself (Suchla 160–162). That both “ecstasy” and eros are in the Areopagite ascribed to the divinity is surely a sign of his Christian inheritance (so Rist 1966; de Vogel 1981). To borrow Rene Roques’s phrase, Dionysius’s ecstasies are reciprocal (Roques 1957, p. 12, p. 58, pp. xliii–xliv). God goes “out of himself” into diversity and the creature “out of itself” into union. The impelling force in both “downward” procession and “upward” return is the one, divine love.”

(Golitzin 1993, p. 100)

The correspondence with the concept of “the one” in the Areopagite’s theology can be found in the section “Perfect and One” in On Divine Names (DN XIII.). While the name “One” does not carry the same authority and grandeur as “Good” or “Being”, it better supports the notion of apophasis, explains participation, and ultimately reveals the Platonic roots of the Areopagite’s thought. The critical phrase is that there is nothing among beings that does not partake of “the One”, which has already encompassed beings within itself beforehand. Without “the One”, beings cannot exist, and at the same time, “the One” itself has already included all beings before they exist in a unified manner (DN XIII. 2).

There is naught in the world without some participation in the One, the Which in Its all-embracing Unity contains beforehand all things, and all things conjointly, combining even opposites under the form of oneness. And without the One there can be no Multiplicity; yet contrariwise the One can exist without the Multiplicity just as the Unit exists before all multiplied Number.

(Dionysius the Areopagite. The Divine Names n.d., chap. 13, para. 2, p. 96)

Dionysius references the name One, which establishes God’s selfhood because He is the cause of all things without departing from the One. Without the One, multiplicity cannot exist, while the One can exist without multiplicity. Here, we arrive at the heart of Platonic ontology, for not only does each idea acquire an individual essence independent of its instantiations, but participation itself is also better explained. The concept of the One satisfies the demand for unity, as the multiplicity of ideas gains intrinsic existence and explains God as their cause. Simultaneously, it preserves God’s transcendence, as He is immaterial with respect to material things and indivisible with respect to divisible things. Broadly speaking, this synthesis reaches its pinnacle in Dionysius, where the apophatic One (nor essential One, nor intellect One) is described as the supra-essential One (DN XIII. 3).

And you will not find anything in the world but derives from the One (which, in a super-essential sense, is the name of the whole Godhead) both its individual existence and the process that perfects and preserves it. And we also must, in the power of the Divine Unity, turn from the Many to the One and declare the Unity of the whole single Godhead, which is the One Cause of all things; before all distinctions of One and Many, Part and Whole, Definiteness and Indefiniteness, Finitude and Infinitude; giving definite shape to all things that have Being, and to Being itself; the Cause of everything and of all together—a Cause both co-existent and pre-existent and transcendent, and all these things at once; yea, beyond existent Unity itself, and giving definite shape to existent Unity itself. For Unity, as found in the creatures, is numerical; and number participates in Essence: but the Super-Essential Unity gives definite shape to existent unity and to every number, and is Itself the Beginning, the Cause, the Numerical Principle and the Law of Unity, number and every creature.

(Dionysius the Areopagite. The Divine Names n.d., chap. 13, para. 3, pp. 96–97)

I therefore think that the superior one, as well as its semantic value in relation to other names, is summarized in the following phrase: And there is One God Who is the Father and One Lord Jesus Christ and One unchanging Spirit, through the transcendent indivisibility of the entire Divine Unity, wherein all things are knit together in one and possess a supernal Unity and super-essentially pre-exist (Dionysius the Areopagite. The Divine Names n.d., chap. 13, para. 3, p. 96). This One is the cause of all things, expressing the unity through which it exists and itself explains the participation. The phrase that a Cause both co-existent and pre-existent and transcendent, and all these things at once yea, beyond existent Unity itself, and giving definite shape to existent Unity itself’ (DN XIII. 3.) is what makes the supra-essential One transcendental in relation to the numerical one. In other words,10 one is one because before one, there is the transcendent one, which the transcendent one can be and is without being. Otherwise, it would become two. It is the way the immaterial exists, meaning there is the very condition.

Then, the Areopagite points out that the supra-essential One expresses ascent through the apophatic method in order to lead us to the God who is above every name. The convergence with the Platonic one is expressed at the point where the transcendent one itself is in the unapproachable and is, of course, beyond reason and knowledge. Whether it concerns goodness or the meaning of one, these are concepts that express the desire to describe what is neither truth, nor light, nor knowledge. Therefore, the description of God begins after the absolute abstraction is completed. There, where the one is neither one, nor good, nor existing but is the invisible light as the superluminous darkness of mystical silence, where we do not see and do not know. Indicative of the fact that the concept of the One now implies an “exit”11 from the self is also the concept of darkness. Light is perceived in the presence of darkness; thus, darkness is the necessary condition for the appearance of light. The condition of seeing is deprivation of self, in the same way that One is One when it is before it. Ultimately, the unseen, the inexpressible not only expresses the nature of God but also shows the way to union with God. This is precisely the apophatic path, which begins from the lower through abstractions until it ascends to the unutterable.

Being through the passive stillness of all his reasoning powers united by his highest faculty to Him that is wholly Unknowable, of whom thus by a rejection of all knowledge he possesses a knowledge that exceeds his understanding. Unto this Darkness which is beyond Light we pray that we may come, and may attain unto vision through the loss of sight and knowledge, and that in ceasing thus to see or to know we may learn to know that which is beyond all perception and understanding (for this emptying of our faculties is true sight and knowledge), and that we may offer Him that transcends all things the praises of a transcendent hymnody, which we shall do by denying or removing all things that are.

(Dionysius the Areopagite. The Mystical Theology n.d., chap. 1 and 2, pp. 100–1)

This line of reasoning culminates in Chapter Five (Mystical Theology), where Dionysius ultimately arrives at absolute apophatism. At this point, God is neither truth, nor good, nor intellect, nor even God. In this sense, the One is not even one, though this does not imply that the supra-essential One does not exist.

For while applying affirmations or negations to those orders of being that come next to It, we apply not unto It either affirmation or negation, inasmuch as It transcends all affirmation by being the perfect and unique Cause of all things, and transcends all negation by the pre-eminence of Its simple and absolute nature-free from every limitation and beyond them all.

(Dionysius the Areopagite. The Mystical Theology n.d., chap. 5, p. 103)

4. Damascius

So far, we have moved into a domain that lies beyond the Plotinian One, namely, to that which precedes the One.12 If Plato expressed this in the Parmenides through the first hypothesis as the apophatic One (that is, what is not even one), and Dionysius described it as the invisible light that corresponds to what is before the One and all things, then we are led to an inquiry into what this “before the One” ultimately is. The resolution to this ultimate ontological problem is finally provided by Damascius13 (Greig 2021a, p. 146). This last Neoplatonic thinker introduces the concept of the ineffable, which, as the top secret ineffable One, is precisely that which is not even One. Damascius’ reasoning is founded on establishing what we might call the quintessential unknown, and I will later demonstrate how he proves this. Greig (2023, p. 451) is showing how Dionysius’ conception of God fits more closely with Damascius’ framework for the One, especially Damascius’ description of the triad of principles (i.e., the One-All, All-One, and Unified) at the One’s level which closely parallels Ps.-Dionysius’ description of the Christian Trinitarian persons (i.e., the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit).

First of all, Damascius explicitly refers to the existence of that which is beyond the One, which arises through the negation of the very Plotinus (n.d.) One, in the same way that the negation of all else led to the One. Initially, in Damascius, there is the relationship of the One with all things, where the One is distinguished from all things but is also present within all things. Damascius preserves the autonomy of the One in Plotinian terms while introducing the concept of the ineffable regarding the One to emphasize all those characteristics that render it inaccessible and unknown yet at the same time existent. The One is ineffable in the sense that it escapes all composition of reason and name, as well as all division, such as the distinction between the object and the subject of knowledge. Viewed this way, the total One (both the ineffable + beyond essence) possesses a dual nature: one explicit, since, even through negation, we speak of it and it participates in all things, and one ineffable, which refers to its very essence that remains unknown as the One before all things. However, the necessity of an ultimate first principle leads to the negation of the One and thus to something that is even prior to the ineffable One. This, then, will be the top secret ineffable itself.

And it is perhaps the case that the absolutely Ineffable is that about which we cannot even posit its ineffability. The One, on the other hand, is ineffable in such a way as to escape every statement and description, as well as every discernment, as, for example, the differentiation between a knower and the object of knowledge.

(Ahbel-Rappe 2010, p. 73)

The reasoning required to define the ineffable itself necessitates the definition of the quintessential unknown. This is where Damascius innovates and provides us with the criterion by which we can understand what lies before the One. Plotinus stated that we grasp the One when we are not thinking, meaning it is that which cannot be conceived. For Dionysius, it is the invisible and thus the intelligible that cannot be comprehended. Damascius resolves the issue as follows: First, he examines two possible scenarios. The quintessential unknown must either stem from the cognitive limitations of the subject or from the unknown itself, as the object, being the bearer of ignorance. In the first case, we acknowledge that the unknown is that which we cannot know, meaning we are not asserting any property of the unknown itself but rather our own inability to comprehend it. However, in this instance, we know that we are ignorant of the unknown, or we know that we cannot know it. In either case, we ultimately know something about it. Even if we are unaware of its existence, we still know that it is unknown. All of this belongs to the realm of reasoning, which, when it refers to the unknown, recognizes it simply by the fact that it is ignorant of it or by acknowledging that it cannot comprehend it. Even if the unknown is unintelligible, we know that it is unintelligible, which means we still know something about it.

Now, let us consider the other possibility: that the unknown is a property of the unknown as an object. Here, we have an analogy with Dionysius, where the object itself has “unknownness” as a property. This corresponds to the idea that the unknown One is unknown because it is invisible. However, the issue in this case, too, is that we know this. That is, if the unknown is unknown because it is invisible, then our knowledge that it is invisible renders it known as being invisible literally. Thus, once again, we possess knowledge about it. Knowing it is not the sole criterion, as even recognizing that it is invisible constitutes knowledge of the unknown. Consequently, the unknown itself is not the absolutely ineffable.

This kind of knowledge is not of that [unknown object] but simply of one’s own state of ignorance. In speaking about that unknowable we are not describing it, but we simply affirm our own experience concerning it: the imperceptibility that belongs to the blind person is not inherent in color, since blindness is not a property of color, but of him. So the ignorance we have of that is in us, just as the knowledge of the known is in the knower, not in the object known.

(Ahbel-Rappe 2010, pp. 74–75)

Damascius resolves this issue by synthesizing the two perspectives, transferring the criterion of ignorance to the knowing subject while maintaining the cause within the unknown itself, which obstructs understanding and thus becomes unknown precisely for this reason. The unknown itself is unknown not because it cannot be conceived or because it is invisible but because it does not allow us to perceive the way in which it becomes unknown. Damascius shifts the criterion to the subject, asserting that the unknown is that which we have no sight of, meaning it is that which provides no grasp or even hint of comprehension. This initially implies that it is what we cannot know, but this does not refer to the unknown itself; rather, it refers to the manner in which the unknown becomes unknown. What we cannot know is the manner, not the unknown itself. The point of incomprehension lies in the way the unknown achieves its unknownness; in other words, the negation itself is completely ignored. For example, if we know that the unknown is invisible, then our understanding of the way the unknown becomes unknown (in this case, its invisibility) implies some knowledge about the unknown, even if we do not directly see it. Thus, the criterion must shift to how the unknown becomes unknown so as not to refer to the unknown itself. This definition of ignorance establishes the criterion within the knowing subject while simultaneously maintaining a connection to what is external to it because the unknown itself causes this ignorance.

But if we eliminate any insight or intuition, and we say that we have no knowledge at all of an entity of which we have no capacity for vision at any level, and remain utterly without such capacity, and say that it is unknowable, then we are not saying something about the object itself, such as that it is inherently invisible, as in the case of an intelligible object, or that it is inherently unknowable by means of a substantial or ordinary intellection, as in the case of the One, but rather as providing no occasion for one’s own ability to grasp it, or even to suspect its existence. We are not saying that it is only unknowable, so that it is some one thing, which then has a nature that is unknowable, but rather that it is not even something that is, nor is it One, nor is it all things, nor is it the principle of all things, nor is it beyond all things: we simply have no way to predicate anything of it at all.

(Ahbel-Rappe 2010, p. 75)

Viewed in this way, we manage not to speak of the unknown itself but rather of the knowledge of our own inability, which pertains to the cause that makes the unknown appear unknown. This knowledge of ignorance demonstrates the existence of the ineffable aspect of the unknown while we admit that we possess knowledge of an ignorance regarding something about which we do not speak. In essence, we transfer ignorance to the level of negation, resulting in the recognition that we do not understand the negation. Ultimately, Damascius’ remarkable innovation lies in his ability to connect the knowing subject to the object while simultaneously resolving the issue by introducing a perspective from a third factor. Thus, the top secret ineffable is not what I cannot know but rather that for which I do not know how it becomes unknown. Plato and Dionysius approached the unknown through the negation of all things. The negation and subtraction of everything, based on the logic that the ineffable is what is neither one nor the other, eliminated every attribute but did not eliminate the knowing subject, insofar as the subject, even in negating everything, still knows that it negates. In contrast, Damascius essentially invokes negation directed at negation itself. We do not negate all attributes of the unknown but instead negate the very manner by which the unknown achieves its unknownness, for it is this process that prevents us from understanding how it occurs. In other words, when negation is not directed at the unknown but at the very act of negating how it becomes unknown, it successfully avoids referencing the unknown itself and instead addresses what renders the unknown unknown.14

But perhaps Plato has led us ineffably through the mediation of the One to what now confronts us, the Ineffable beyond the One, by the very fact of taking away the One, just as through the removal of the others he has brought us back to the One.

(Ahbel-Rappe 2010, p. 72)

In Damascius, it is also worth mentioning the distinction between the concepts of “monad” (μονάδα) and “henad” (εννάδα). The “monad”, which refers to the one, corresponds to the Platonic idea, while the “henad” refers to the quintessential one. This distinction is very characteristically described by John Rist (Rist 1962, p. 395), and I believe it deserves to be noted. I think it holds great significance because it encompasses the relationship between the individual and the multiple.

“……as Man, Ox and Beauty first as ἑνάδες, then, only a little below, as μονάδες. There is no question but that ἑνάς and μονάς are synonyms. But such an obvious explanation is far too simple for Damascius or for his source. Damascius writes as follows: “What he calls monads and henads are the apices (κορυφάς) of the Forms: henads, as seen in relation to the multitudes depending on them; monads, as related to supra-existential principles” (trans. Westerink). Although both “monad” and “henad” are interpreted as names for Forms, Damascius prefers to call Forms “monads” rather than “henads” when they are being contrasted with what is “beyond Being”. A similar passage is to be found in Proclus’ commentary on the Parmenides where we read that “Socrates in the Philebus at one time calls the Forms henads, at another monads.” Proclus goes on to explain that the Forms are μονάδες when compared with the One itself (αὐτὸ τὸ ἕν) but may be called ἑνάδες in comparison with particulars. Thus when discussing the Forms in relation to the One both Damascius and Proclus interpreted the Philebus as teaching that we should say that the One is prior to the Monads. Compared with the One, a Form is not worthy of the name “henad“; better to call it “monad.” As Dodds (Dodds 1933, p. 258) has said,” Proclus interprets the passage (of the Philebus) as referring to the Forms, which are called μονάδες as belonging to the world of Being, but ἑνάδες in respect of their transcendent unity.” It is clear that although for Proclus and Damascius the names “henad” and “monad” both designate Forms, “henad” is the more honorific title.”

(Rist 1962, p. 395)

Greig’s view (Griffin 2021, p. 376), I believe, also supports the interpretation that the ineffable One is something different from the Plotinian One. Damascius allows the One to precontain the Limit and Unlimited, in a causal way, because he also introduces the Ineffable, an apparently noncausal entity beyond even the One. Greig denies a skeptical and “subjectivist” reading of the Ineffable, according to which the One is how our soul grasps the Ineffable, and a “superfluous” reading, according to which the Ineffable does no metaphysical work at all. The Ineffable is a grounding principle without being a cause, both in relation to the One and matter. “Stepping into emptiness” is, for Proclus, the final limit of knowledge about the One; for Damascius, it is the beginning. “Silence” becomes the explanatory “ground” of all subsequent causes. That is, we see that the ineffable One does not act, does not function as a cause, and possesses something empty yet silent. It is not that I reject these perspectives, since we are situated at the outermost limits of meaning. Rather, my own approach sought to incorporate more fully Damascius’ argument concerning the impossibility of identifying the reason for our ignorance. That is where I found the key difference in relation to Dionysius.

5. Conclusions

My view aligns closely with that of Franke (Franke 2004, p. 21), who explicitly asserts that there is some notion prior to the One. According to Franke “Damascius seems to have worried that the One, as principle of all, was involved in relations that contradicted its absolute transcendence. He therefore posited a “wholly ineffable” principle beyond even the One, criticizing the main current of Neoplatonic thought that placed as absolutely first the One, which is a One-All, ground and principle of all that is” (Franke 2004, p. 21). I would like also to add that on Damascius’ own authority (De principiis, 11. 1, 4–13), we know that Iamblichus (c. 245–325) was actually first to sustain the necessity of an ineffable principle anterior to the Neoplatonic One Franke (Franke 2004, p. 21) holds, and I agree with him that Damascius presses more than any of his Neoplatonic predecessors the contradiction between the absolute transcendence of the first principle and its being a “principle”, that is, its being coordinated with what comes after it.

The term transcendence was used by me to highlight the superiority of the ineffable One in relation to the typical One of Plotinus. This term does not appear in the writings of any of the three philosophers discussed in the article. In the case of Damascius, transcendence corresponds to the ineffable, while in Dionysius it refers to the superessential. Therefore, especially in Dionysius and Damascius, transcendence conceptually signifies the differentiation and the autonomy of the One they describe. In the context of the article, the use of the term pertains to the idea that for the first principle to truly be first, it must not have any prior principle that precedes and explains it. Each time we seek an explanation, we require something prior in order to account for what is present. However, this line of reasoning cannot be applied to the first principle; otherwise, it would no longer be first.

Franke substantiates this need for disconnection from the hierarchical process with the following reasoning: “Even its being said to be “transcendent” is problematic because “the transcendent always transcends something and thus is not absolutely transcendent, since it has a relation to that which it transcends” (De principiis, 1. 21, 8–10). Damascius judges any principle that could still be placed in relation with the All to be compromised in its transcendence. In the interest of securing its absolute transcendence, he posits a first principle anterior to the One that is not coordinated with any whole and that refuses every relation” (Franke 2004, p. 21). This reasoning can lead us next into a connection with the first hypothesis of the platonic Parmenides. Franke (2004, p. 22) suggests that the unknowability and ineffability beyond even the One, which can in no way itself be thematized, and yet the failure of our efforts to do so itself opens a whole new field for inquiry into the contents of our ignorance, together with a motive for silent veneration. This kind of meditative silence is actually what I deem as a solution, and I think it is the only way to approach the abyss of the ineffable.

Although I strongly agree with Franke that there must be a metaphysical reality prior to the One, I believe he does not dare to define it adequately. He limits himself to a description of ‘silence’ and an opening toward the unknown per se, content merely with having surpassed the classical One. In contrast, what I propose is that this One-before-the-One is something that precedes the One as we know it from Plotinus. The only thing this could be is that which gives selfhood to the Plotinian One—not in the sense that it surpasses the One, but in the sense that even for the One to be constituted, it must think15 in it’s own way. This mode of thinking will require a precondition, even if what is to be created (from the ineffable One) is the One. Simply put, the precondition for the One will be an internal creation of the One with a self, and not an external condition as is the case with the human dual mind. We need Damascius because he is the one who explicitly maintains that there exists this realm of the One, which ultimately gives itself to the total One. Damascius provides an excellent explanation of the origin of the One, which is the very condition for the existence of the One.

In all cases, the criterion of inaccessibility lies in the fact that the One does not participate in Being; thus, we understand the reason why we do not know it. However, when we do not know the reason, the criterion itself changes. Here, the criterion is no longer the knowledge of ignorance, as in Dionysius the Areopagite, but the ignorance of ignorance itself. The realization of ignorance remains knowledge and therefore defines the One as existing. What we encounter in Damascius, however, is the realization of non-consciousness. This form of the One, I argue, corresponds to a One prior to the One, and to the extent that it still expresses a realization, it represents the pre-condition selfhood of the One. In conclusion, I know that the cause of ignorance resides in God and not in myself, which also reflects the established notion of conscious ignorance. However, this has the consequence of distancing the One even further.

To sum up, I sought to establish the existence of that realm to which this “one before the one” belongs. Initially, in Plato, we observed that it concerns an apophatic “One”, which is not one. This corresponds to a light we cannot see because it itself is the precondition for seeing. Subsequently, in Dionysius, this “One” became the invisible light, which is not visible precisely because it is invisible. Dionysius the Areopagite even defined this “One” as the primary attribute of One—the way the immaterial or the indivisible exists. Finally, Damascius, in my view, provided the most abstract approach by considering the “One” as something that is not even invisible. It refers to something whose very reason for being unknown is itself unknown, as even that would constitute a form of knowledge. The absolute unknowing caused by the “One” ultimately allows the “One” to exist and, indeed, to precede the One as the ineffable, inexpressible One.