**Diogenes: The Dog Who Bit an Emperor**

 **Diogenes: The Dog Who Bit an Emperor**

Diogenes of Sinope (c. 404–323 B.C.E.) was no ordinary beggar. He lived on a riverbank in Greece, owning nothing but a beautiful begging bowl and a loincloth. He begged at temple gates and ate whatever he received.

One day, after finishing his meal, he walked toward the river. A stray dog ran at him, snarling. Diogenes fled into the water for safety, swam a short distance, and emerged on the opposite bank. There, in a burst of ecstasy, he rolled joyfully in the sand. Then he stopped and thought: *"My life is worse than that of a dog."*

This was a strange realization—because he was already ecstatic. Yet he understood that many times before, he had wanted to throw himself into the river but hesitated, worried about wetting his loincloth or losing his precious bowl. On that day, he threw both away and lived totally naked.

Diogenes was later captured by pirates and sold into slavery, eventually settling in Corinth. He became famous for his radical acts: lighting a lamp in broad daylight and announcing, "I am searching for a human being." When Plato was asked what sort of man Diogenes was, he replied, "A Socrates gone mad."

He slept and ate wherever he chose, toughening himself against nature. He declared himself a cosmopolitan—a citizen of the world, not of any single city. He famously followed Antisthenes like a dog, becoming his "faithful hound." He begged for a living and often slept in a large ceramic jar in the marketplace.

In Athens, he once took a tub for a home. According to *Lives of Eminent Philosophers*, Diogenes had written to someone asking for a cottage. When the man delayed, Diogenes simply moved into a tub in the Metroön, as he explained in his letters. The inspiration came from watching a mouse, which taught him that one can adapt to any circumstance. That adaptability became the root of his legendary self-discipline.

Diogenes mocked convention relentlessly. He carried a lamp in daylight, claiming to be looking for an honest man. He criticized Plato, disputed his interpretation of Socrates, and sabotaged his lectures—sometimes by bringing food and eating during discussions.

Another pivotal episode occurred during his enslavement in Corinth. When asked what he could do, he answered, "Govern men." That is exactly what he did after being bought by a man named Xeniades. Xeniades and his household learned to follow Diogenes' ascetic example. One story says Diogenes became a cherished member of the household and was freed; another claims Xeniades freed him immediately; yet another says he grew old and died in Xeniades' house. Whatever the truth, the point is the same: Diogenes the slave was freer than his master.

He was also known for mocking Alexander the Great, both in public and to his face when Alexander visited Corinth in 336 BC.

Now comes the most famous encounter between them.

One day, Diogenes lay on the riverbank, eyes closed, rolling in the sand in great ecstasy. Alexander the Great, riding his tall horse and dressed in imperial robes, looked down at him. He raised his voice and nearly screamed: "You wretched animal! You don't have a single piece of cloth on your body. You are like an animal. What could you possibly be ecstatic about?"

Diogenes opened his eyes, looked up at the most powerful man in the world, and asked a question no one had ever dared to ask an emperor: *"Would you like to be like me?"*

The question struck Alexander deeply. He answered, "Yes. What should I do?"

Diogenes said, "Get off that ridiculous horse. Take off those emperor's clothes and throw them into the river. This riverbank is big enough for both of us. I am not conquering the whole thing. You can lie down and be ecstatic, too. Who is stopping you?"

Alexander replied, "Yes, I would love to be like you. But I do not have the courage to do what you are doing."

History books have always celebrated Alexander the Great (356–323 B.C.) as a paragon of courage—the glamorous Macedonian ruler and conqueror. Yet here, he admitted his lack of courage before a naked beggar. So he said, "I will join you in the next life." He postponed it.

Who knows about the next life?

From that encounter, a strange dispassion and coolness dawned on Alexander. Toward the end of his life, he lost his passion for battle, though he continued fighting out of habit. Once the passion died, so did his energy. And he died.

Just before his death, he gave a strange instruction to his people: "When you make my coffin, cut two holes on either side so that my two arms hang outside—just to show all of you that even Alexander the Great goes empty-handed."

He was thirty-two years old.