Simone Weil, la filosofia che si fa vita

Simone Weil, la filosofia che si fa vita 

Articolo di Marco Iacona
Dal Secolo d'Italia di martedì 3 febbraio 2009

È da tempo che stiamo riproponendo su queste pagine quegli autori di frontiera che rappresentano al meglio quella nuova sintesi verso la quale, nel suo esito post-totalitario, il Novecento auspicava nel profondo. È il caso di figure come Charles Peguy, Hannah Arendt, Albert Camus o l’Ernst Jünger del secondo dopoguerra. Figure nel cui pensiero si conciliava l’apparentemente inconciliabile: la spiritualità e la trasformazione politica, la libertà e la tradizione, la battaglia per i diritti sociali e l’adesione al principio di realtà. È questo anche, e soprattutto, il caso di Simone Weil, di cui proprio oggi ricorre il centenario della nascita. In Italia fu Adriano Olivetti a tradurne per primo alcune opere già nei secondi anni Quaranta e saranno, successivamente, Cristina Campo, Alfredo Cattabiani e Augusto Del Noce a valorizzarne l’importanza filosofica, in particolare la riscoperta moderna del platonismo. Un editore non di sinistra come Rusconi pubblicherà il fondamentale La Grecia e le intuizioni precristiane e, infine, le edizioni Adelphi di Roberto Calasso ne tradurranno quasi l’intera opera a cominciare dalle Riflessioni sulle cause della libertà e dell’oppressione sociale. Una pensatrice, la Weil, che sfugge a qualsiasi facile classificazione di natura ideologica: da ebrea si avvicinò alla fede cattolica, socialista e molto legata al sindacalismo rivoluzionario scoprirà che una vera rivoluzione s’invera nella religione, studiosa di livello sceglierà di andare a lavorare in fabbrica per sperimentare la questione sociale del Novecento.

Nata a Parigi nel 1909, allieva del filosofo Alain, fu all’inizio insegnante di liceo e militante sindacale e politica nell’ambito cristiano-anarchico e intrattenendo vari contatti internaziopnali, ospitando anche per un breve periodo il leader antistalinista Trotzkij. Fu poi esule in America, infine a Londra. Affetta da tubercolosi, morì nel sanatorio di Ashford in Inghilterra nel 1943 a soli 34 anni lasciando un’immensa produzione scritta che verrà pubblicata postuma. Il suo pensiero è caratterizzato da un forte principio di realtà, nonché dall’esigenza di ancorarlo al contesto sociale e politico di appartenenza (del quale sperimentava, spesso in prima persona, le condizioni). L’analisi filosofica di Simone Weil, asistematica e irregolare, difficilmente collocabile all’interno delle correnti tradizionali, ha purtroppo finito per passare in secondo piano rispetto al vissuto dell’autrice. Ci si trovava immedrsi, a suo dire, in un mondo moderno dove nulla è a misura dell’uomo, dove tutto è squilibrio e la società è collettività cieca, trasformata in una macchina per comprimere cuore e spirito e per fabbricare l’incoscienza. Separando il lavoro dalla conoscenza, la società moderna e soprattutto la società industriale, avervano aumentato enormemente la complessità della sua organizzazione, ponendo quindi le condizioni per un potere sempre più forte che tende a riprodursi anche là dove è stata fatta una rivoluzione. Emerge, già da queste sue analisi, il grande contributo weiliano a quel pensiero anti-totalitario e post-totalitario che è ancora oggi l’orizzonte sul quale si muove il dibattito pubblico. Ma veniamo a lei. Il suo stesso volto da eterna e pensosa giovane – i suoi occhi così grandi in un ovale imperfetto – ricorda una poesia triste, una poesia che raramente si legge in pubblico ma che ciascuno di noi ama ripetere fra sé e sé, alla ricerca di sottili verità. Verità umili e sofferte da sgranare come i chicchi di un Rosario. Come dicevamo, Simone oggi avrebbe cento anni, un’età patriarcale impossibile da raggiungere da una come lei che la vita la sudò fino all’ultima goccia. Nata e cresciuta in un mondo colmo di afflizioni ed ella stessa di salute cagionevole, interpretò la vita al pari di un vero grande scrittore contemporaneo, mescolando la teoria alla pratica, la fede – quella con la F maiuscola – alla parola, la speranza alla fatica, il lavoro al sublime pensiero. E mescolando, sopra ogni cosa, la cerca delle più grandi verità (così come viene fuori dai suoi Quaderni), alla preziosa ma passiva attesa che saranno esse stesse – le verità – a manifestarsi nel cuore degli uomini prima o dopo. Ci ha lasciato oltre che la forza di un pensiero innalzato sulle fondamenta della realtà sociale, l’immagine di una tenue dolcezza (e di un amore sincero): la compagna di una scelta di vita che obbliga al rispetto, quasi all’adorazione, da qualsiasi parte – quella scelta di vita – la si contempli e da qualsiasi parte si scelga d’ammirarla. La sua vita è stata un romanzo interrotto, forse, nel capitolo più bello. Simone Weil era stata tentata dal marxismo (ma mai scritta ad alcun partito), anarco-sindacalista e rivoluzionaria, una donna pugnace dunque che era partita volontaria per la guerra di Spagna già nel ’36, militando ovviamente fra le fila degli anarchici. Di professione era stata una insegnate di filosofia nei licei francesi fino al 1934, fino a quando cioè aveva capito che occupare una comoda sedia (pontificando su questo e quello), sarebbe stato solo un pratico lasciapassare per una buona carriera. Redditizia e borghese. Una carriera dimentica della rilevanza e della dignità dell’altro da sé, con la voce “giustizia” confinata all’interno di un freddo manuale di storia ad uso scolastico. Così aveva deciso di rimettersi in gioco, d’inventarsi salariata della Renault di Parigi per conoscere e toccare con mano le condizioni della classe operaia. Per dividere e condividere le sofferenze di chi a quel tempo sembrava davvero riassumere i mali di quella fetta di genere umano chiamato Occidente. Ovvio che i temi ricorrenti negli scritti della Weil (tutti usciti postumi a cura di padre Joseph-Marie Perrin e del grande pensatore cattolico Gustav Thibon con la collaborazione di Albert Camus), fossero quelli della miseria, della schiavitù e dell’oppressione. Ed altrettanto ovvio che uno dei suoi rimedi per porre fine alle condizioni sfavorevoli dei più deboli fosse quel vero, sano, umanismo calpestato da qualsiasi rivoluzione in qualunque epoca storica.

Nel 1934 Simone aveva scritto Riflessioni sulle cause della libertà e dell’oppressione sociale, una critica contro il capitalismo industriale; in esso aveva posto al centro della società il valore del lavoro non più rigidamente diviso in lavoro manuale e lavoro intellettuale, causa profonda secondo lei di ingiustizia. In Oppressione e libertà invece aveva denunciato alcune forme di varia oppressione, quella dovuta all’uso della forza, quella dovuta al capitale e quella dovuta appunto alla divisione del lavoro. Un giorno però messa a dura prova da un’esperienza professionale e di vita (il lavoro in fabbrica appunto), nella quale il semplice apporto volontaristico sembrava non essere più sufficiente, la giovane Weil imprime alle sue riflessioni e ai suoi modi una direzione in senso affatto teologico. Cristo? Sì il Cristo dei Vangeli venuto a redimere l’uomo… Lui poteva mostrarsi quale “pietra angolare”, capace di dar ragione alle sue sofferenze, capace di motivare le sue sopportazioni e di assegnare un significato alle infinite realtà e con esse al passato filosofico e al visto e al non-visto. Nel 1937 (non a caso ad Assisi), c’è così la svolta nella vita dell’agnostica Simone Weil. Quella crisi mistica che la condurrà a cercare anche con estrema durezza verso se stessa, una conoscenza diretta della Verità e della Bellezza, dunque – per lei – della divinità. La conoscenza di quel Dio la cui vicinanza è condizione essenziale perché l’uomo sconfigga l’infelicità che lo possiede, di quel Dio di fronte al quale è opportuno annullarsi e annullare il proprio io (“decreando” quello che lui ha creato limitandosi, cioè noi stessi). Di quel Dio che non va cercato, perché si incontra semplicemente non amando tutto ciò che Egli stesso non è. Di quel Dio che, infine, si manifesterà se impariamo ad accettarlo così com’è; e del resto come è opportuno che Egli stesso venga accettato.

Dal momento in cui Simone indirizza se stessa verso l’immenso fronte della spiritualità – e dal momento in cui sembra scrollarsi di dosso gli interessi più superficialmente politici a vantaggio di una riflessione sul senso dell’esistenza e del “noi fra gli altri” – i suoi studi si arricchiranno di pagine e pagine di testi sacri, dalle religioni orientali al Corano, dalla Bibbia alla Bhagavad-Gita. Scritti ancora poco conosciuti e tutti ancor meno studiati da molti filosofi di casa nostra. La Weil condiva però la sua forte attenzione verso le condizioni materiali dell’uomo con un altrettanto vigoroso pessimismo sociale. Le società contemporanee sono soltanto delle macchine, diceva, ove più nulla è fatto e pensato per essere a misura d’uomo. Quelli passati a lavorare in fabbrica – e poi dopo come contadina – saranno senz’altro anni duri ma decisivi per la sua formazione. D’altra parte, ed ancora dal punto di vista del pensiero della Weil, nessuna società giusta potrà fare a meno di fondamenta etico-religiose e di una tensione continua verso quei principi supremi – in primo luogo il Bene – che fanno di un popolo una società e che non possono basarsi sui requisiti di un determinismo a sfondo materialista che informa quasi tutta la filosofia di Marx. Un Marx a questo punto ben lontano dalle realizzazioni weiliane (chi ci dice che il proletario giunto al potere non opprima com’egli stesso era oppresso in precedenza?).

Ma la Chiesa di Roma, per una Simone concentrata sul rapporto fra creazione, fede e libertà, non è meno colpevole di quei regimi totalitari del Novecento contro i quali la scrittrice si era schierata per estrema coerenza (da ebrea fu costretta a fuggire dalla Francia di Vichy a rifugiarsi per poco tempo in America, e poi stabilirsi in Inghilterra ove morì). Una Chiesa nel cui grembo Simone non entrerà mai, rimandando il battesimo e con esso l’ingresso ufficiale nella comunità dei cristiani, rifiutando tutto quel che di feroce e oppressivo era stato avallato dalla Chiesa fino a quel dato momento. Ma forse Simone – morta troppo giovane – non ebbe il tempo per fare il passo definitivo.

Oppressione, debolezza e sofferenza: è questo il trinomio di tragica concretezza steso dalla professoressa Weil sulla lavagna della nostra e della sua contemporaneità, ed è questo il filo biografico che unisce la sua vita da esclusa a buona parte della primo Novecento. A un certo punto della sua vita Simone non riuscì – o semplicemente non volle – sottrarsi a una fine terribile, morire d’inedia per solidarietà con gli ebrei che morivano nella tristissima Europa degli anni Quaranta vittime della hitleriana “soluzione finale”. Magra e quasi del tutto irriconoscibile, era l’estate del 1943. Fu il gesto estremo di chi nella sua vita e col suo pensiero aveva dato pochi punti di riferimento. L’atto finale di chi con la morte aveva voluto cancellare gli unici rimasti che non fossero l’amore per il Dio universale e per la dignità dell’uomo.

Marco Iacona è dottore di ricerca in "Pensiero politico e istituzioni nelle società mediterranee". Si occupa di storia del Novecento. Scrive tra l'altro per il bimestrale "Nuova storia contemporanea", il quotidiano "Secolo d'Italia" e il trimestrale "la Destra delle libertà". Per il quotidiano di An nel 2006 ha pubblicato una storia del Msi in 12 puntate. Ha curato saggi per Ar e Controcorrente edizioni. Nel 2008 ha pubblicato: "1968. Le origini della contestazione" globale" (Solfanelli).

Drechos humanos vs. Derechos ciudadanos

 

Derechos humanos vs. Derechos ciudadanos

 

 

                                                                                       Alberto Buela (*)

 

Hace ya muchos años el pensador croata Tomilslav Sunic realizaba la distinción entre derechos humanos y derechos de los pueblos tomando partido por estos últimos.

No es para menos, los derechos humanos tienen un anclaje filosófico en la ideología de la ilustración de corte político liberal mientras que los derechos de los pueblos fundan su razón de ser en el historicismo romántico de corte popular.

Hoy ya es un lugar común - luego de la afirmación de Proudhon (1809-1965), el padre del anarquismo, “cada vez que escucho humanidad sé que quieren engañar” - cuestionar la incoherencia de la Ilustración en materia política, así como la exaltación de la razón humana como “diosa razón”.

Este pensamiento ilustrado sufre una metamorfosis clara que va desde sus inicios con el laicismo libertario de la Enciclopedia y el racionalismo, pasa por el socialismo democrático y desemboca en nuestros días en el llamado “progresismo” que se expresa en la ideología de la cancelación como bien lo hace notar el muy buen pensador español Javier Esparza: “ que consiste en aquella convicción según la cual la felicidad de las gentes y el progreso de las naciones exige cancelar todos los viejos obstáculos nacidos del orden tradicional” [1]

 

La gran bandera del pensamiento “progre” es y han sido los derechos humanos donde ya se habla de derechos de segunda y tercera generación. Esta multiplicación de derechos humanos por doquier ha logrado un entramado, una red política e ideológica que va ahogando la capacidad de pensar fuera de su marco de referencia. Así el pensamiento políticamente correcto se referencia necesariamente en los derechos humanos y éstos en aquél cerrando un círculo hermenéutico que forma una ideología incuestionable.

Esta alimentación mutua se da en todas las formulaciones ideológicas que se justifican a sí mismas, como sucedió con la ideología de la tecnología en los años sesenta donde la tecnología apoyada en la ciencia le otorgaba a la ciencia un peso moral que ésta no tenía, hasta que la tecnología llevaba a la práctica o ponía en ejecución los principios especulativos de aquélla.

Se necesita entonces un gran quiebre, una gran eclosión, el surgimiento de una gran contradicción para poder quebrar esta mutua alimentación. Mutatis mutandi, Thomas Khun hablaba de quiebre de los paradigmas, claro que no para hablar de este tema, sino para explicar la estructura de las revoluciones científicas.

 

Los derechos humanos tal como están planteados hoy por los gobiernos progresistas están mostrando de manera elocuente que comienzan a “hacer agua”, a entrar en contradicciones serias.

En primer lugar estos derechos humanos de segunda o tercera generación han dejado o han perdido su fundamento en la inherencia a la persona humana para ser establecidos por consenso. Consenso de los lobbies o grupos de poder que son los únicos que consensuan, pues los pueblos eligen y se manifiestan por sí o por no. Aut- Aut, Liberación o dependencia, Patria o colonia, etc. Es por eso que hoy se multiplican por cientos: derecho al aborto, al matrimonio gay, a la eutanasia, derecho a la memoria por sobre la historia, a la protección a las jaurías de perros que por los campos matan las ovejas a diestra y siniestra (en la ciudad de La Paz- Bolivia hay 60.000 perros sueltos) [2]. Cientos de derechos que se sumaron a los de primera generación: a la vida, al trabajo, a la libertad de expresión, a la vivienda, al retiro digno, a la niñez inocente y feliz, etc.

Ese amasijo de derechos multiplicados ha hecho que todo el discurso político “progre” sea inagotable. Durante horas pueden hablar Zapatero y cualquiera de su familia de ideas sin entrar en contradicciones manifiestas y, por supuesto, sin dejar de estar ubicado siempre en la vanguardia. La vanguardia es su método.

Pero cuando bajamos a la realidad, a la dura realidad de la vida cotidiana de los ciudadanos de a pié de las grandes ciudades nos encontramos con la primera gran contradicción: Estos derechos humanos, proclamados hasta el hartazgo, no llegan al ciudadano. No los puede disfrutar, no nos puede ejercer.

El ciudadano medio hoy en Buenos Aires no puede viajar en colectivo (bus) porque no tiene monedas, es esclavizado a largas colas para conseguirlas. Es sometido al robo diario y constante. Viaja en trenes desde los suburbios al centro como res, amontonado como bosta de cojudo. Las mujeres son vejadas en su dignidad por el manoseo que reciben. Los pibes de la calle y los peatones sometidos al mal humor de los automovilistas (hay 8000 muertes por año). Llevamos el record de asesinatos, alrededor de 12.000 al año. Los pobres se la rebuscan como gato entre la leña juntando cartón y viviendo en casas ocupadas en donde todo es destrucción. Quebrado el sistema sanitario la automedicación se compra, no ya en las farmacias, sino en los kioscos de cigarrillos. El paco y la droga al orden del día se lleva nuestros mejores hijos, mientras que la educación brilla por su ausencia con la falta de clases (los pibes tienen menos de 150 días al año).

 

Siguiendo estos pocos ejemplos que pusimos nos preguntamos y preguntamos ¿Dónde están los derechos humanos a la libre circulación, a la seguridad, a la dignidad, a la vida, al trabajo, a la vivienda, a la salud, a la moralidad pública, a los 180 días de clases que fija la ley?. No están ni realizados ni plasmados y  no tienen ninguna funcionalidad político social como deberían tener. Así los derechos humanos en los gobiernos progresistas son derechos “declamados” no realizados. Es que este tipo de gobiernos no gobiernan sino que simplemente administran los conflictos, no los resuelven.

En este caso específico que tratamos aquí los derechos ciudadanos mínimos han sido lisa y llanamente conculcados. La dura realidad de la vida así nos lo muestra, y el que no lo quiera ver es porque simplemente mira pero no ve.

La gran contradicción de lo políticamente correcto en su anclaje con los derechos humanos en su versión ideológica es que estos por su imposibilidad de aplicación han quedado reducidos a nivel de simulacro. Hoy gobernar es simular.

 

Y acá surge la paradoja que en nombre de una multiplicidad infinita de derechos humanos, estos mismos derechos de segunda o tercera generación han tornado irrealizables los sanos y loables derechos humanos del 48 que tenían su fundamento en las necesidades prioritarias de la naturaleza humana. Han venido a ser como el perro del hortelano que no come ni deja comer. Todo esto tiene solo una víctima, los pueblos, las masas populares que padecen el ideologísmo de los ilustrados “progres” que los gobiernan.

Un ejemplo final lo dice todo: año1826, primer presidente argentino González Rivadavia, un afrancesado en todo menos en la jeta de mulato resentido, alumbró 14 cuadras de la aldea que era Buenos Aires, en la cuadra 15 los perros cimarrones se comían a los viandantes. Siempre el carro delante del caballo.

 

 

 

(*) [e-mail]

 

---

[1] Esparza, Javier: “Para entender al zapaterismo: entre el mesianismo y la ideología de la cancelación”, Razón Española Nº 153, Madrid, enero-febrero 2009, p.10

[2] Hay quienes hablan hoy de “derechos humanos de los animales” un verdadero hierro de madera.

Sovereignty : The History of the Concept

Sovereignty: The History of the Concept

Ex: http://faustianeurope.wordpress.com/

What is sovereignty? In general, it might be said that the sovereignty is always either ‘internal’ or ‘external’, or de facto and de jure [1]. My primary concern in this essay will be to shed some light on the first of these - internal sovereignty. Indeed, it is entirely correct to say that sovereignty cannot be so easily labelled into two separate categories and it should be acknowledged that the ‘external’ sovereignty, in the light of the Westphalian peace treaty, could be regarded as nothing else but placing a last piece of the puzzle of sovereignty into its place – granting the internally acknowledged sovereign entity also the external recognition of its legitimacy.

John Hoffman suggests that most often, the contemporary view considers sovereignty to be a ‘unitary, indivisible and absolute power concentrated in the state’ [2]. However was it always so? If not, when did the idea of sovereignty as supreme power, as Weberian ‘monopoly on the violence in a given territory’, first appear? My suggestion will be that the concept of sovereignty in its fullness is a very modern phenomenon, whose emergence can be traced back no deeper than into the early modern period [3], but which, nevertheless, remains with us almost intact even today – still being necessarily thought of as ‘absolute and indivisible’.

The Necessity of a Historical Perspective

It is important to acknowledge that sovereignty, although a common part of our contemporary political vocabulary, is fundamentally a historical concept. The concept of sovereignty as such was unknown before the sixteenth century [4]. It was completely unfamiliar to the Ancient Greeks, Romans, as well as to the scholars of the medieval period [5]. Although the Roman law provided the technical vocabulary to the theory of sovereignty, the Romans themselves spoke only about different layers of authority, not about ‘supreme power’ or about any conceptual notion of sovereignty as such. Potestas was thus used to signify the official legal power of the magistrates, auctoritas on the other hand implied the influence and prestige, and imperium the right to command in certain offices – all that in the interest of the whole political body [6].

Nevertheless, Vincent still argues that ‘it does not follow that the reality of state sovereignty did not exist in earlier periods, even though the concept itself had yet to be formulated’ [7].

I believe that the problem here is that Vincent does not sufficiently acknowledge what the questioning of the very concept of sovereignty entails. He conflates the sovereignty with merely being ’sovereign’ or having the authority of command in a certain sphere, which the Romans sophisticated into many different layers of political auctoritas as was mentioned before.

To understand what sovereignty is, one cannot stop by finding out who has the powers of a sovereign. The sovereignty is a political concept and is thus bound to the process of questioning of who should be sovereign, which tries to provide certain justifications for a political authority where such authorities were previously unquestioned. The point here is that the moment of questioning itself – the intellectual vacuum instead of previous unquestioned traditions, which the scholar tries to fill in, forms the integral part of every political concept. It is the contest – dispute – over its exact meaning, which can be present only if the consent and some self-evident social truth between the arguing parties already disappeared.

But when and how did that ‘moment of questioning and uncertainty’ arise?

Jean Bodin

Although Bodin (1520-1596) did not ‘invent’ sovereignty, he was certainly the first who gave it a serious consideration and conceptualized it in a systematic manner [8]. His magnum opus Six Books of the Commonwealth was written on the background of the waging Wars of Religion. Bodin’s chief concern was thus understandably to find a way to end the chaos and war, which he perceived to be the natural result of the labyrinthic feudal order, with its myriad of principalities, guilds, cities, and trading unions, formally united under the Church and Emperor, but with none of them having the power to subdue the others in the time of crisis [9]. Bodin argued that for a government to be strong, it must be perceived as legitimate, and to be legitimate it must follow certain rules of ‘justice and reason’ comprehensible through the divine law. Essentially however, the power of a sovereign is for him the ability to create laws and break them according to one’s will [10].

Since according to this definition, the sovereign must be able to simultaneously create laws ex nihilo (the ‘positive law’) [11], and to break it at his own discretion, the sovereign cannot be also his own subject, otherwise he would be bound to the laws he created and therefore would no longer be the sovereign. The sovereign’s power is thus for Bodin necessarily ‘absolute and indivisible,’ the sovereign standing above the law and above the society itself [12]. In fact, the sovereign is a ‘mortal God’[13]. Bodin elaborates:

‘The attributes of sovereignty are . . . peculiar to the sovereign prince, for if communicable to the subject, they cannot be called attributes of sovereignty . . . Just as Almighty God cannot create another God equal with Himself, since He is infinite and two infinities cannot co-exist, so the sovereign prince, who is the image of God, cannot make a subject equal with himself without self-destruction’[14].

With regard to the Wars of Religion, Bodin’s purpose is clear, Vincent suggests that, ‘to make civil law the will of the sovereign is to undermine some of the impact of customary and natural law. Effective law becomes the command of the sovereign’ [15]. Sovereignty in this light is ultimately absolutely independent of the subjects - sovereign becomes the source of his own legitimacy responsible only to God, the legislator as well as the executor.

For these purposes, the principles of princeps legibus solutus (the prince is the living law) and plenitudo potestantis (the fullness of legal power) were adopted by the medieval jurists from the Roman law for an attack on until-then predominant feudal ‘ascending thesis’, the argument that authority of a sovereign comes from below - from feudal lords and other intermediary bodies - not the other way around (’descending thesis’ – legitimacy comes from above – God and the sovereign) [16].

It is most often argued that this shift to centralization from the decentralized feudal order occurred because of the increasing conflicts - as mentioned the Wars of Religion brought on France unprecedented suffering – thus to bring order, monarchs required taxation, orderly collection of such revenues, which again dependent on the disciplined troops, and above all the justification for these extended sovereign’s interventions that would give him the upper hand over disloyal nobility [17].

Finally, what is important to stress, as Alain de Benoist rightly notes, is that such ‘new sovereign order’ henceforth recognizes only the state and atomized individuals (’society’) and ‘abolishes particular ties and loyalties, and bases itself on the ruins of concrete communities’.[18] From the multiplicity of feudal communities – build upon the natural ties, loyalties and mutual interest – Bodin creates an abstract community of atomized individuals bound together only by the common monarch – the state. This is for Bodin inevitable, although he recognizes the importance of human associations to a certain extent, he cannot make them nothing but communities of individuals with no claim on the political power or self-management, since that would threaten the absolute power of the sovereign. This was nevertheless taken even a step further by Thomas Hobbes.

Thomas Hobbes

Hobbes (1588-1679) similarly to Bodin wrote his magnum opus Leviathan during the period of a civil war, wishing to mitigate this ‘worst of all evils’. His concept of sovereignty knows however even less limits than that of Bodin. Whereas Bodin acknowledged that there are some actions which might be perceived as illegitimate [19], Hobbes accepted only the right of the individual for ‘self-preservation’ [20].

To avoid the constant civil war and anarchy, to which humans are according to Hobbes prone because of their ‘evil’ human nature [21], people by entering into society agree to give up their ‘natural’ sovereign rights in favour of the sovereign. The sovereign, not being a party to the original contract, does not recognize any limits to his authority. He exercises his powers unconditionally. While Bodin based the legitimacy of the sovereign on the divine sanction, Hobbes built his own on the social contract between ‘naturally free and equal’ individuals [22], thus relating his argument very much to our contemporary time.

The paradox of Hobbes is that although his sovereign bases his legitimacy on the relation between him and the people (i.e. because of the original social contract) the ruler is made autonomous, possibly even operating against the community from which he derives his legitimacy in the first place. The question thus arises whether the ruler can really think of himself as legitimate when the source of his legitimacy (the people) does not consider him anymore as being such. Bodin could not have this problem because his source of legitimacy was God. Hobbes wants to have it both ways however, the source of the legitimacy of the sovereign comes from the below, but at the same time he takes over from Bodin the sovereignty as ‘absolute and indivisible’ and hence cannot allow the sovereign any limits on his powers even if this means the fight against his own people.

The gap between the state sovereignty and ‘popular sovereignty’ (the source of legitimacy designating the ruler) is thus open, and as it will be shown, remains open even under our liberal representative democracies. One needs to take one further step to John Locke, who managed to synthesize Bodin and Hobbes to provide us with the foundations for liberalism and thus for our modern Western states.

John Locke

Whereas Hobbes’ thought contains both liberal (social contract) and illiberal (absolute ruler) elements, it is Locke (1632-1704) who is considered to be the true father of liberalism [23]. Nevertheless, contrary to what some liberal thinkers seem to suggest[24], there is no significant gap between him, Hobbes and Bodin. Similarly to Hobbes, he founds the society on the abstract social contract, which every individual ’signs’ by coming into it [25].

For Locke, certain ‘natural rights’ can never be taken away from the individual and his preservation is in fact the only reason why utility-maximizing individuals enter the society [26]. Although the life in the ’state of nature’ for Locke is not ‘nasty, brutish, poore, and short’ as for Hobbes, Locke’s individuals being relatively benign, living according to the divine law, and not interfering with each other’s ‘natural rights’ [27], there are still few who are dangerous.

Logically for Locke, for his people qua ‘rational individuals,’ it is therefore only in their best self-interest to enter the society, where in exchange for certain duties (for instance: the service in the national army) [28], they receive the state protection against these perpetrators.

What one immediately might notice is the fact that the state is again an all powerful entity, except for a certain limited sphere of ‘natural rights’ (similarly to Bodin), which he cannot interfere with if his actions are to be perceived as legitimate. In fact, as Hoffman notes, one might regard Locke as Bodin ‘refurbished’ with the social contract to the 17th century English conditions [29].

French Revolution, Soviet Revolution, National Socialists

The distance in legitimacy between the ruler and ruled did not disappear, although there were certainly some efforts to solve this duality in many different ways. The French Revolution, based on the concept of Rousseau’s ‘general will,’ argued that the will of the nation is embodied in the National Assembly - therefore, by this logic, the nation was the general assembly [30], being able to send thousands under the guillotine, for their ‘own good.’ Similarly the Russian Bolsheviks argued that it is the Communist Party acting as the vanguard of the proletariat, embodying its will, and ‘subsequently,’ that the party qua the proletariat embodies the true spirit of the whole people, ‘free’ of the class interests [31]. And indeed, the German National Socialists claimed that the will of the German volk is embodied in Führer, the German jurist Carl Schmitt claiming (in the vein not unlike Bodin) that Hitler embodies the ‘living law’ of the Aryan race, purifying the nation from its bad elements (Aktion T4) in the victims’ own name.

In all these instances, the sovereignty, as the ’supreme, absolute and indivisible’ is based on the Hobbesian idea that the state can operate against the wishes of those from whom it draws it legitimacy.

But this is untenable, as David Beetham argues, the legitimacy ‘must be conceived as a relationship between parties bound together by shared beliefs and by some kind of common interest’ [32]. This does not mean that the government cannot be oppressive, the argument only suggests that the legitimacy means the dual relationship, which cannot be broken from either side, otherwise the action of the state is not considered legitimate, but merely the manifestation of the force, not of the right. The individual’s peers thus might justifiably expect that he will try to develop certain civic virtues that help to preserve that very community in which he lives in and the individual rights he enjoys. He as well might be expected to fight (and potentially die) for that community in a battle, being considered a coward, effeminate or ostracized if he does not do so – but otherwise – no one can legitimately press him to act in such way – since the legitimacy – the ability to acknowledge a certain force as rightful and not just a mere force – belongs only to him.

Liberal democracy

It would be a mistake to assume that the paradox of sovereignty has been solved in contemporary Western liberal democracies. Quite the contrary, the modern liberal state is built on the principles outlined by Locke three hundred years ago. There exists a certain set of rights with which the state cannot meddle with. Similarly, it is also based on the ’social contract’ between the citizens and government, which is periodically ‘renewed’ in the general elections.

Nevertheless, the legitimacy of the liberal state sovereignty is in fact more questionable than ever before. The chief problem might be regarded in what is called ‘legal sovereignty’ or also Rechtsstaat. As Alain de Benoist suggests, today “politics… is considered to be inevitably dependent upon irrational and arbitrary ‘decisions,’ is disqualified, since the political sphere denies the autonomy and, thus, the essence of law” [33]. The titular wielder of the power can thus be ignored, since his decision might be considered to clash with the ‘ethical’, legal sovereignty.

Politics is thus not only alienated from the hands of its titular wielders – people, but also constantly moved from the realm of deliberation to the realm of administration. The people are not only distrusted enough that they have to be ruled through representatives (acting according to their ‘best’ judgement), not by delegates who would have to represent their will and could not act without having the people’s consent, but the realm of the possible political action is constantly circumscribed in the name of the revelation of the superior historical reason manifested in certain political taboos which today are ‘evil’ or ‘immoral’ to questioned. The liberal democratic state thus appears to be a messianic entity, moving towards a paradise where no longer any political activity, action, and deliberation will be necessarily – since all our ‘human reason’ will be imbued in the rational Hegelian machinery of our legal state.

As Chantal Mouffe notes – liberal democracy wants to completely annihilate the political in the name of the ‘rational’ management of the divergent interests within the political community, because it supposedly transcends their ‘particularities’ and is applicable to them all [34]. Indeed, as in all universalistic regimes, unquestionably.

Thus all pluralism of divergent life styles within the liberal state is destroyed, as Mouffe concludes, ‘. . . conflicts, antagonisms, relations of power, forms of subordination and repression simply disappear and we are faced with a typically liberal vision of a plurality of interests that can be regulated, . . . where the question of sovereignty is evacuated’ [35].

The liberal thus does not understand that people are inherently social and political beings – that for them it is not enough to have their divergent political ideas, cultures, traditions, religions somewhere in the private, dark recesses of their minds – but that they want to live according to them, have the right to behave in a certain way in public, celebrate traditions in a certain way, consider some things to be moral and some not without any ‘political correctness.’ To allow the diversity of the public – of the political – and not merely of the private and atomized is something which the liberal democracy will never be able to solve.

A pluralist alternative?

As might be seen, the central flaw of the theories of ‘supreme and indivisible’ sovereignty is that they conceive of the individual and society in highly individualistic, rational, and pre-social terms. In case of Hobbes and Bodin, individuals are anti-social power-maximizers, who can be subdued only by the all-powerful entity. In case of Bodin and liberals, individuals are utility maximizers coming together only for their own greater benefit, in order to better protect their ‘natural rights’ and property, and content to fetishize their identities somewhere in private.

Nevertheless, there exists a certain group of scholars, inspired by the contemporary of Bodin, Johannes Althusius, and the German thinker Otto von Gierke, who argue that humans are social beings who do not come to society just for the profit or protection, but because of their social nature [36]. Althusius calls humans ‘symbiots’ [37], since they form multiplicity of public associations according to their sense of belonging (families, tribes, cultural groups, ethnics), mutual interest (guilds, manufactures, trading unions, today political movements etc.) and never can be reduced to the simple dichotomy “individual-state” as according to the modern theorists of sovereignty since Hobbes.

These pluralist thinkers are for instance J. N. Figgis, H. J. Laski, or G. D. Cole. They argue that sovereignty is inalienable to the individuals, who are not some ‘unencumbered selves’ of the liberals [38], but their ‘individuality’ only truly exists because they are members of various intertwined social groups. But at the same time, the sovereignty is for them divisible, with each such group having the authority over its own internal affairs, to the extent it can manage for itself, and its social activities do not clash with those of the others’ [39]. The state is for them only the highest of such groups uniting not individuals qua individuals, but only as the members of multiplicity of various other groups, as social beings with already determined, divergent interests [40].

This idea is present also in Mouffe, who suggests that these divergent social groupings do not have to be united by their thick public moralities, as communitarians suggest, but by ‘thin’ set of goods, or ‘thin morality’ if you like only – by the common adherence to the ideal of the polity (res publica) which allows them to live their divergent public lifestyles, and which therefore requires them certain civic virtues. As Mouffe notes, ‘this modern form of political community is held together not by a substantive idea of the common good, but by a common bond, public concern.’

Similarly, Quentin Skinner agrees with this proposition when he writes:

‘All prudent citizens recognise that, whatever degree of negative liberty they may enjoy, it can only be the outcome of - and if you like the reward of - a steady recognition and pursuit of the public good at the expense of all purely individual and private ends’ [41].

What is required of the citizen is thus the adherence to the virtues of political activity and participation, public concern for the common affairs, courage in defending the public interest, prudence in dealing with the others – that is, the respect for the plurality of divergent cultures and lifestyles and their right to organize their public affairs according to themselves (for instance, Muslims having every right to wear headscarves or whatever their want according to their cultural traditions). In short – a civic morality is necessary for all members of the res publica if they want to preserve their plural lifestyles, the principle of ‘unity in diversity.’

Ultimately, the individuals thus delegate but do not forfeit their sovereignty. The sovereign of the state as the higher unit is thus only the highest intermediate between the constantly fluid diversity of the political unit, having as his goal to promote their public good [42]. In the words of Friedrich II, although superior to them all individually, he is only a subject to them as to the whole community, being nothing but the ‘first servant of the state.’

This is the expanded version of the essay submitted by the author as a part of his undergraduate degree at the University of Sheffield.

References:

---

[1] A. Heywood, Key Concepts in Politics (Basingstoke, 2000), pp. 37-39.

 

[2] J. Hoffman, Sovereignty (Buckingham, 1998), p. 32. See also D. Strang, ‘Anomaly and Commonplace in European Political Expansion: Realist and Institutional Accounts,’ International Organization 45 (1991), p. 148..

[3] R. Cooper, The Postmodern state and the New World Order (London, 2000), p. 45: defines the early modern period as dominated by centralised states, gradual shift from agrarian to commercial economy, rationalism and foreign relations dominated by the inter-state interaction.

[4] J. A. Camilleri, and J. Falk, The End of Sovereignty? The Politics of a Shrinking and Fragmenting World (Aldershot, 1992), p. 239. Also D. Held, ‘Introduction: Central Perspectives on the Modern State,’ in States & Societies, ed. D. Held et al (Oxford, 1985), pp. 1-2.

[5] A. Vincent, Theories of the State (Oxford, 1987), p. 32.

[6] Ibid., p. 32.

[7] A. Vincent, Theories of the State (Oxford, 1987), p. 35.

[8] J. Hoffman, Sovereignty (Buckingham, 1998), p. 35.

[9] J. Bodin, Six Books of the Commonwealth (Oxford, 1955). Also D. Held, ‘Introduction: Central Perspectives on the Modern State,’ in States & Societies, ed. D. Held et al (Oxford, 1985), p. 2.

[10] J. Bodin, Six Books of the Commonwealth (Oxford, 1955), II.

[11] L. L. Fuller, The Law in Quest of Itself (Boston, 1966), p. 19, thus calls Bodin the ‘father of legal positivism’.

[12] J. Bodin, The Six Books of the Commonwealth (Oxford, 1955), pp. 40-50.

[13] Ibid., pp. 49-50.

[14] Ibid., p. 42.

[15] A. Vincent, Theories of the State (Oxford, 1987), p. 54.

[16] Ibid., p. 47.

[17] F. Kratochwil, ‘Of Systems, Boundaries, and Territoriality: An Inquiry into the Formation of the State System,’ World Politics 39 (1986), pp. 27-52.

[18] A. de Benoist, ‘What is Sovereignty?’, Telos 116 (1999), p. 102.

[19] A. Vincent, Theories of the State (Oxford, 1987), pp. 58-59.

[20] T. Hobbes, Leviathan (London, 1914). For the ‘right of self-preservation’ which Hobbes grudgingly in De Cive acknowledged as ‘inalienable right’ see D. Baumgold, ‘Hobbes’, in Political Thinkers From Socrates to the Present, ed. D. Boucher and P. Kelly (Oxford, 2003), pp. 174-176.

[21] T. Hobbes, Leviathan (London, 1914), Chapter XIII.

[22] Ibid., Chapter XIV and XV.

[23] D. Held, ‘Introduction: Central Perspectives on the Modern State,’ in States & Societies, ed. D. Held et al (Oxford, 1985), pp. 9-14.

[24] J. Waldron, ‘John Locke’, in Political Thinkers From Socrates to the Present, ed. D. Boucher and P. Kelly (Oxford, 2003), pp. 181-197.

[25] J. Locke, Treatises of Government (Cambridge, 1988).

[26] Ibid.

[27] Ibid.

[28] J. Hoffman, Sovereignty (Buckingham, 1998), p. 46.

[29] Ibid., pp. 45-47.

[30] A. de Benoist, ‘What is Sovereignty?’, Telos 116 (1999), p. 106.

[31] V. I. Lenin, The State and Revolution: The Marxist Theory of the State and the Tasks of the Proletariat in the Revolution (Moscow, 1965).

[32] D. Beetham, The Legitimation of Power (Basingstoke, 1991), p. 31.

[33] A. de Benoist, ‘What is Sovereignty?’, Telos 116 (1999), p. 110.

[34] C. Mouffe, The Return of the Political (London, 1993).

[35] C. Mouffe, The Return of the Political (London, 1993), p. 49.

[36] J. Althusius, The Politics of Johannes Althusius (Boston, 1964), and O. von Gierke, Political Theories of the Middle Age (Oxford, 1900). For the overview of the pluralist theory of the state see A. Vincent, Theories of the State (Oxford, 1987), pp. 181-217.

[37] J. Althusius, The Politics of Johannes Althusius (Boston, 1964).

[38] The definition is Michael Sandel’s, Liberalism and the Limits of Justice (Cambridge, 1982).

[39] A. Vincent, Theories of the State (Oxford, 1987), pp. 181-217.

[40] Ibid.

[41] Q. Skinner, Visions of Politics - Volume 2: Renaissance Virtues (Cambridge, 2002), p. 212.

[42] Ibid.

*********************************************

Bibliography:

Althusius, J., The Politics of Johannes Althusius (Boston, 1964).

Baumgold, D., ‘Hobbes’, in Political Thinkers From Socrates to the Present, ed. D. Boucher and P. Kelly (Oxford, 2003), pp. 174-176.

Benoist, A. de, ‘What is sovereignty?’, Telos 116 (1999), pp. 99-118.

Bodin, J., Six Books of the Commonwealth (Oxford, 1955).

Camilleri , J. A., and Falk, J., The End of Sovereignty? The Politics of a Shrinking and Fragmenting World (Aldershot, 1992).

Fuller, L. L., The Law in Quest of Itself (Boston, 1966).

Gierke, O. von, Political Theories of the Middle Age (Oxford, 1900).

Held, D., ‘Introduction: Central Perspectives on the Modern State,’ in States & Societies, ed. D. Held et al (Oxford, 1985).

Heywood, A., Key Concepts in Politics (Basingstoke, 2000).

Hoffman, J., Sovereignty (Buckingham, 1998).

Hobbes, T., Leviathan (London, 1914).

Kratochwil, F., ‘Of Systems, Boundaries, and Territoriality: An Inquiry into the Formation of the State System,’ World Politics 39 (1986), pp. 27-52.

Lenin, V. I., The State and Revolution: The Marxist Theory of the State and the Tasks of the Proletariat in the Revolution (Moscow, 1965).

Locke, J., Two Treatises of Government (Cambridge, 1988).

Mouffe, C., The Return of the Political (London, 1993).

Sandel, M. J., Liberalism and the Limits of Justice (Cambridge, 1982).

Skinner, Visions of Politics - Volume 2: Renaissance Virtues (Cambridge, 2002).

Strang, D., ‘Anomaly and Commonplace in European Political Expansion: Realist and Institutional Accounts,’ International Organization 45 (1991), pp. 143-162.

Vincent, A., Theories of the State (Oxford, 1987).

Carl Schmitt, Aristotle and the Concept of the Political

Carl Schmitt, Aristotle and the concept of the political

 

Ex: http://faustianeurope.wordpress.com/

Carl Schmitt, besides being one of the thinkers of the ‘conservative revolution’ of the interwar Germany, was also notoriously infamous for being a ‘Hitler’s jurist,’ thus one of those important intellectuals who provided the necessary legal framework for the brutish Nazi regime. Yet, our world is seldom such that individuals can be so simply categorized as ‘good’ or ‘evil,’ and Carl Schmitt, has an interesting concept of the political which might give, and gives, contemporary political students and academics a completely new perspective on the sphere of politics.

Indeed, what is politics and its area of interest - the political? I might well continue by countless common definitions like ‘the political is what concerns the state,’ or I might mention the argument of many radical feminists or some of the scholars as Colin Hay (2002, pp. 69) who suggest that ‘everything has the potential to become political’ - even what was considered to be solely a domain of the ‘private’ - as was a few years ago shown in the infamous ‘fox hunting case’ in Britain.

Thus, the ‘classical’ definition of the political perceives politics as an arena - as Politics with the capital ‘P’ (by equating politics with places where is politics being created ~ usually the state, the government. However, many scholars including the ‘communitarians’ Charles Taylor, Michael Walker, Michael Sandel and Alasdair MacIntyre would certainly argue that politics is today also, or even primarily, created outside the national borders of the state - for instance in INGOs, QUANGOs, TNCs and in economic and financial organizations associated with them such as WTO or Bretton Woods institutions). Nevertheless, the second, ‘less traditional’ definition of politics perceives it as a process. When conceived as a process, in terms of application of power, or as of ‘transformatory capacity’ as Anthony Giddens formulates (1981), politics has the potential to emerge in every social location.

Colin Hay specifies:

‘Power … is about context-shaping, about the capacity of actors to redefine the parameters of what is socially, politically and economically possible for others. More formally we can define power … as the ability of actors (whether individual or collective) to “have an effect” upon the context which defines the range of possibilities of others’ (Hay, 1997, p. 50; quoted in Hay, 2002, p. 74)

Therefore, politics as a process is about power relations between various social actors. By the moment when one actor is able to shape the destiny - behaviour - of another, one talks according to the feminists and Hay about politics. For instance, the fox hunting in Britain was by these terms initially a social activity just as any other (such as for example going shopping, or eating in a restaurant), but by the moment the Labour government issued the ban on hunting the foxes, it pushed it from the social sphere onto the political agenda. Power relations suddenly emerged between the actor (the government in this case) and the British people and interest groups concerned. The whole-national discussion that emerged, with various groups formulated arguing on pros and cons of the ban on fox hunting was thus an excellent example of a process of creating from a formerly ‘innocent’ aspect of social life highly controversial political topic involving heated discussion of many individuals and organizations.

So far, however, these definitions of the political as either what ‘happens in the government’ or as a ‘process of application of power’ are very standard, or even ‘boring.’ Boring in a sense that these conceptions of what politics is, of what the political contains, have become almost universally accepted, and underline many other academic works without even being contested from any different perspective.

Now enters Carl Schmitt, who poses a cardinal question - ‘what is all that for?’ Indeed, what is the aim, the goal, of politics? Aristotle mentions in theNicomachean Ethics is the ‘master art’ (Book I, §2) since it uses knowledge of all other arts and hence its fundamental goal - the goal of a politician - should be to produce ‘good citizens’ (Book I, §13), while the law of a polis should be the framework to show what this good is. Again, argument being that a politician is someone who has achieved experience and knowledge in all aspects of life besides being endowed with the best abilities. Aristotle tells that only such a ‘mature’ person can engage in politics and thus be able to judge ‘what the good is.’ (Book I, §3) Hence, according to Aristotle, the laws of a polis are also moral laws, and to act according to these laws is equated to being ‘just.’

Very interestingly, the reader will see how close Aristotle and Carl Schmitt in their argument on the political are. Aristotle’s fundamental content of politics is as mentioned above to distinguish between the ‘right and wrong.’ On the other hand Carl Schmitt, in the Concept of the Political, postulates that every domain of life rests on its own distinctions; for economics it is ‘profitable and unprofitable,’ or for morality it is ‘good and evil.’ Schmitt then continues that for the political its fundamental activity is to distinct between ‘friend and enemy’ (1996, p. 27). Schmitt in his book develops a powerful theory and he states that if one empirically studies history the striking fact is that every political grouping can be distinguished as such because it organizes itself on the basis of the friend-enemy distinction.

In this sense, first human associations as primitive tribes of our ancestors, were the first political organizations because they organized people into a unit - a tribe - and their allies (’friends’) against other such groupings - other ‘tribes’ - which might pose a threat to their existence. It is irrelevant whether one conceives of this as of form of ‘contract’ between tribesmen in the sense of Locke or Hobbes or in the Nietzschean or Spenglerian sense where the organizers of this political association are the members of a warrior caste. The important fact is that behind the idea of any political organization - behind the organized political community - is the necessity to distinct in the concrete sense between friend and enemy. The similarity between the ‘right and wrong’ of Aristotle and Schmitt’s ‘friend-enemy’ dichotomy is now obvious and Schmitt is also very close to Spengler, who equated the emergence of first  communities with the necessity to form a group united in achieving one common goal (1976, Ch. 4).

Note that it is interesting that Colin Hay is unfamiliar or does not mention Carl Schmitt in his Political Analysis, since their line of thought is very reminiscent of each other. Schmitt just as Hay develops his argument by stating that every social aspect - religions, morality, economics, arts can become the political. However, while Hay equates the shift from the social to political with the ability to make a specific issue a topic of the national discussion or of a governmental debate, Schmitt specifies this by arguing that what every grouping in fact does is to specifying its enemies and organizing its friends.

The feminists therefore group themselves into various interest groups and draw support for their arguments from various think tanks, academics (’friends’) in order to ’struggle’ against their perceived enemies - masculine social institutions perhaps. In similar vein, while workers doing their job in a factory do no belong to the political sphere, by the moment they organize themselves into a labour union, they become a political organization. They form a collectivity of ‘friends’ as against what is the other, the alien - the enemy - in this case, entrepreneurs or the state, in order to reach their goal - again, the increase of wages perhaps. Similarly, for Schmitt religion communities are not political when they worship their saints and go to pray into churches, but when they organize themselves to fight against other religion communities (immediately, the Christian crusades against the ‘infidels’ comes to mind) they become the political by the very nature of forming the friend-enemy distinction.

Every such grouping has its own means how to fight ‘traitors’ in its own ranks who do not accept the group’s idea of friend-enemy. Again, the best example is provided by mentioning the Roman Church, where those who do not ‘believed in God’ were marked as witches and burned by the Inquisition.

Implications of Schmitt’s definition of the political on the basis of ‘friend and enemy’ distinction are tremendous. Using this concept of the political it is immediately possible, just as Schmitt notes, to distinguish that supposedly ‘apolitical’ liberal society is political in its very nature. Even though that in liberal society one is supposedly able ‘to live a life one chooses’ in fact one has to live a life in the liberal free market society. Thus, indigenous people whose land and local businesses is being taken away by transnational companies, is not obviously burned at stakes of the Inquisition, but the liberal society has other means to fight these ‘infidels’ who prefer to live their life in their community, do not want to watch TV, and do not want to shop in the Wal-Mart. Simply, these can either accommodate or they are left to starve.

In liberal thought, the friend is the one who accepts the implication that the society is one gigantic free market, atomic community of people who fight all against all and only the ‘best’ is able to survive (but in fact, it is necessary to understand that this the ‘best’ only in one sense - in the Liberal sense - as formulated by Adam Smith and daily repeated by neo-liberals - the best is according to it ‘the most economic’). Traditions, agriculture, companies, or even fairy tales of local communities and indigenous people all around the world is thus taken away by what was supposed to be found the ‘best’ by the market. Thus, today for everyone the best traditions are the traditions that ‘proven to be’ the best by the rising global market - i.e. consumerism, the best agriculture ‘is’ to cease one’s lands to foreign trans-national corporations, let your own neighbours to be employed for laughtable wages and import barley from countries which produce ‘the best barley in the world.’ Similarly the ‘best companies’ are not local companies, the ‘best companies’ are gigantic trans-national corporations who are able to destroy every competition by their aggressive prize policy. And ultimately, regional and national myths and stories are being supplanted by the ‘best fairy tales’ from Disney or Warner Bros.

Implications of the world conceived by Liberal thinkers, global financial institutions and large businesses could thus well be rather sarcastically summarized as ‘compete, export or die.’

The political entity ceases to one only if it renounces its claim to choose friend and enemy and how they should be treated. Most importantly, Schmitt, continues, the universalist tendencies of Liberalism to announce that it fights for the ’cause of humanity,’ do not presuppose the end of politics and friend-enemy distinctions. Indeed, this even leads to even more extreme forms of friend-enemy dichotomy, even to the ‘total war,’ since those who fight against Liberal universalist tendencies supposedly fight against humanity itself.

Schmitt explains:

‘When a state fights its political enemy in the name of humanity, it is not a war for the sake of humanity, but a war wherein a particular state seeks to usurp a universal concept against its military opponent. At the expense of its opponent, it tries to identify itself with humanity in the same way as one can misuse peace, justice, progress, and civilization in order to claim these as one’s own and to deny the same to the enemy.’ (1994, p. 54)

The extreme form can be most notably perceived in Kant, who famously formulated his ‘categorical imperative,’ thus identifying his cause with the cause of humanity itself. The word humanity, or any other similar concepts as justice, freedom, peace, progress can be thus easily used to justify imperialist expansion. But in fact, as De Maistre mentioned:

‘(…) there is no such thing as man in the world. In my lifetime I have seen Frenchmen, Italians, Russians, etc.; thanks to Montesquieu, I even know that one can be Persian. But as for man, I declare that I have never in my life met him; if he exists, he is unknown to me.’ (1994, p. 53)

To argue that one’s ideas are universally applicable as the ideas of enlightened thinkers did, and as of other contemporary Liberal do, is according to Carl Schmitt to create the ultimate dichotomy between friend and enemy. It leads to extreme forms of opposition against those who deny their applicability. Schmitt summarizes in the following words:

‘To confiscate the word humanity, to invoke and monopolize such a term probably has certain incalculable effects, such as denying the enemy the quality of being human and declaring him to be an outlaw of humanity; and a war can thereby be driven to the most extreme inhumanity.’ (1996, p. 54)

Those who oppose are thus ‘monsters,’ they oppose their ‘own kind,’ they oppose ‘humanity’ itself, and are thus ‘unworthy’ of any human treatment.

But ultimately, what does Liberalism fights for, who are its ‘friends’?

‘Every encroachment, every threat to individual freedom and private property and free competition is called repression and is eo ipso something evil. What this liberalism still admits of state, government, and politics is confined to securing the conditions for liberty and eliminating infringements on freedom.’ (1996, p. 71)

Thus as Dr. Karl Polanyi showed in Great Transformations (1967), the modern liberal state and the interest of business goes hand in hand, indeed, they are inseparable. To conclude, one has to put Liberalism into a historical perspective, which offers a full justification for its friend-enemy dichotomy. Liberalism, and its enlightened predecessors stood in opposition to the feudal system and absolutism of the 18th century. They represented the ideals of the rising middle class - merchants and businessmen whose interests and economic activities were being threatened by the power of the state. Therefore ‘friends’ - bourgeoisie - middle class of merchants and and first entrepreneurs stood against its enemy - the aristocracy and absolutist state.

This is obviously not to say that Liberals are ‘evil,’ quite contrary, they had proven at the time to be the most powerful political force which was able to form the most powerful political grouping of ‘friends’ supported by the Liberal thought. Thus, the argument that they represent an ‘apolitical force’ is from this perspective fundamentally flawed. But as was mentioned earlier, life is diversity, it is dichotomy of people, groups and interests. Interests of some groups are not the interests of others. The claim that Liberalism represents the interests of all humanity is thus only a ‘noble lie’ in the Platonian sense, which has as its purpose to secure such interests in power or to elevate them into such position.

The belief of this author is that the interests of peoples - of cultures - of their traditions and daily life - cannot be equated with the interests of large business. It is thus necessary to refute the universalist tendencies of Liberalism and portray them in the perspective which clearly shows them as one of many ideas how the social life should be organized and as representing only the interests of the particular class and not of ‘humanity.’

******

Bibliography:

Aristotle. (1999) Nicomachean Ethics (W. D. Ross, Trans.). Kitchener: Batoche Books.

Giddens, A. (1981) A Contemporary Critique of Historical Materialism. London: Macmillan Press.

Hay, C. (1997) ‘Divided by a Common Language: Political Theory and the Concept of Power,’ Politics, 17(1), pp. 45-52.

Hay, C. (2002) Political Analysis. Basingstoke: Palgrave.

Maistre, J. d. (1994) Considerations on France. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Polanyi, K. (1967) The Great Transformation. Boston: Beacon Press.

Schmitt, C. (1996) The Concept of the Political. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Spengler, O. (1976) Man and Technics. New York: Greenwood Press.