legitimacy in peace; legitimacy in war
by Sebastian Benthall
I recently wrote a reflection on the reception of Habermas in the United States and argued that the lack of intellectual uptake of his later work have been a problem with politics here. Here’s what I wrote, admittedly venting a bit:
In my experience, it is very difficult to find support in academia for the view that rational consensus around democratic institutions is a worthwhile thing to study or advocate for. Identity politics and the endless contest of perspectives is much more popular among students and scholars coming out of places like UC Berkeley. In my own department, students were encouraged to read Habermas’s early work in the context of the identity politics critique, but never exposed to the later work that reacted to these critiques constructively to build a theory that was specifically about pluralism, which is what identity politics need in order to unify as a legitimate state. There’s a sense in which the whole idea that one should continue an philosophical argument to the point of constructive agreement, despite the hard work and discipline that this demands, was abandoned in favor of an ideology of intellectual diversity that discouraged scrutiny and rigor across boundaries of identity, even in the narrow sense of professional or disciplinary identity.
Tapan Parikh succinctly made the point that Habermas’s philosophy may be too idealistic to ever work out:
“I still don’t buy it without taking history, race, class and gender into account. The ledger doesn’t start at zero I’m afraid, and some interests are fundamentally antagonistic.”
This objection really is the crux of it all, isn’t it? There is a contradiction between agreement, necessary for a legitimate pluralistic state, and antagonistic interests of different social identities, especially as they are historically and presently unequal. Can there ever be a satisfactory resolution? I don’t know. Perhaps the dialectical method will get us somewhere. (This is a blog after all; we can experiment here).
But first, a note on intellectual history, as part of the fantasy of this argument is that intellectual history matters for actual political outcomes. When discussing the origins of contemporary German political theory, we should acknowledge that post-War Germany has been profoundly interested in peace as it has experienced the worst of war. The roots of German theories of peace are in Immanual Kant’s work on “perpetual peace”, the hypothetical situation in which states are no longer at way. He wrote an essay about it in 1795, which by the way begins with this wonderful preface:
PERPETUAL PEACE
Whether this satirical inscription on a Dutch innkeeper’s sign upon which a burial ground was painted had for its object mankind in general, or the rulers of states in particular, who are insatiable of war, or merely the philosophers who dream this sweet dream, it is not for us to decide. But one condition the author of this essay wishes to lay down. The practical politician assumes the attitude of looking down with great self-satisfaction on the political theorist as a pedant whose empty ideas in no way threaten the security of the state, inasmuch as the state must proceed on empirical principles; so the theorist is allowed to play his game without interference from the worldly-wise statesman. Such being his attitude, the practical politician–and this is the condition I make–should at least act consistently in the case of a conflict and not suspect some danger to the state in the political theorist’s opinions which are ventured and publicly expressed without any ulterior purpose. By this clausula salvatoria the author desires formally and emphatically to deprecate herewith any malevolent interpretation which might be placed on his words.
When the old masters are dismissed as being irrelevant or dense, it denies them the credit for being very clever.
That said, I haven’t read this essay yet! But I have a somewhat informed hunch that more contemporary work that deals with the problems it raises directly make good headway on problem of political unity. For example, this article by Bennington (2012) “Kant’s Open Secret” is good and relevant to discussions of technical design and algorithmic governance. Cederman, who has been discussed here before, builds a computational simulation of peace inspired by Kant.
Here’s what I can sketch out, perhaps ignorantly. What’s at stake is whether antagonistic actors can resolve their differences and maintain peace. The proposed mechanism for this peace is some form of federated democracy. So to paint a picture: what I think Habermas is after is a theory of how governments can be legitimate in peace. What that requires, in his view, is some form of collective deliberation where actors put aside their differences and agree on some rules: the law.
What about when race and class interests are, as Parikh suggests, “fundamentally antagonistic”, and the unequal ledger of history gives cause for grievances?
Well, all too often, these are the conditions for war.
In the context of this discussion, which started with a concern about the legitimacy of states and especially the United States, it struck me that there’s quite a difference between how states legitimize themselves at peace versus how they legitimize themselves while at war.
War, in essence, allows some actors in the state to ignore the interests of other actors. There’s no need for discursive, democratic, cosmopolitan balancing of interests. What’s required is that an alliance of interests maintain the necessary power over rivals to win the war. War legitimizes autocracy and deals with dissent by getting rid of it rather than absorbing and internalizing it. Almost by definition, wars challenge the boundaries of states and the way underlying populations legitimize them.
So to answer Parikh, the alternative to peaceful rule of law is war. And there certainly have been serious race wars and class wars. As an example, last night I went to an art exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum entitled “The Legacy of Lynching: Confronting Racial Terror in America”. The phrase “racial terror” is notable because of how it positions racist lynching as a form of terrorism, which we have been taught to treat as the activity of rogue, non-state actors threatening national security. This is deliberate, as it frames black citizens as in need of national protection from white terrorists who are in a sense at war with them. Compare and contrast this with right-wing calls for “securing our borders” from allegedly dangerous immigrants, and you can see how both “left” and “right” wing political organizations in the United States today are legitimized in part by the rhetoric of war, as opposed to the rhetoric of peace.
To take a cynical view of the current political situation in the United States, which may be the most realistic view, the problem appears to be that we have a two party system in which the two parties are essentially at war, whether rhetorically or in terms of their actions in Congress. The rhetoric of the current president has made this uncomfortable reality explicit, but it is not a new state of affairs. Rather, one of the main talking points in the previous administration and the last election was the insistence by the Democratic leadership that the United States is a democracy that is at peace with itself, and so cooperation across party lines was a sensible position to take. The efforts by the present administration and Republican leadership to dismantle anything of the prior administration’s legacy make the state of war all too apparent.
I don’t mean “war” in the sense of open violence, of course. I mean it in the sense of defection and disregard for the interests of those outside of ones political alliance. The whole question of whether and how foreign influence in the election should be considered is dependent in part on whether one sees the contest between political parties in the United States as warfare or not. It is natural for different sides in a war to seek foreign allies, even and almost especially if they are engaged in civil war or regime change. The American Revolutionary was backed by the French. The Bulshevik Revolution in Russia was backed by Germany. That’s just how these things go.
As I write this, I become convinced that this is really what it comes in the United States today. There are “two Americas”. To the extent that there is stability, it’s not a state of peace, it’s a state of equilibrium or gridlock.
I think the cynical view is that the American state itself has been perpetually at war against certain race, class and gender interests, and that the two party system itself, whether it appears to be at war or at peace, is fundamentally a ruse meant to distract and discourage people from challenging its hegemony.
Historical events (COINTELPRO, Pentagon Papers, police violence) reinforce this view, and essentially delegitimize the state in the eyes of many observers. Hence the abysmal voting turnout, etc.
Recent history takes this idea to its logical conclusion – government as farce, propagated by the media, and meant to entertain and distract while the underlying logic of the economy drives history, as Marx envisioned.
Im curious how Habermas responded to Marx’s theory of historical materialism? What were his views on Lenin’s theory of the state?
That’s a good question about Habermas’s view of Leninism. I have no idea myself.
It’s hard for me to see how the cynical view as you’ve stated it is tenable, though maybe if it were more specific it would be. I think it’s untenable because the apparatus of the state in the United States keeps evolving and winds up including within it most all races, classes, and genders. So I think it’s much more realistic to talk about how the American state is constituted by warring interests than it is to talk about the state at war with (domestic) interests, except in some exceptional cases.
Maybe you have reason to disagree.
But the argument that certain problematic events and the way they reduce the legitimacy of the state is what I am arguing is a symptom of people believing, out of ‘criticality’, that what legitimizes the state (or not) is its ability to address their particular interests. This is as opposed to being the sort of thing that mediates between interests through procedure.
The German case is interesting though. A state, when faced with an unrelenting image of pure evil due to idealogical excess, decides to undertake a moral accounting of its actions, including the actions of ancestors and predecessors, to alter its own conception of itself, if not the sources of its acquired privilege?
When will capitalism and colonialism come to that reckoning? When the environment is destroyed and/or the poor are sacrificed, or before then?
Also, how much of this self-reflection and awareness due to the German tradition of bildung, for which there is no American or global equivalent? This would be consistent with your thoughts in this blog post and the previous one.
One wonders thought about the staying power of this kind of sentiment, with the renewed growth of populist and nationalist parties in Germany….
“Capitalism” and “colonialism” aren’t agents, even in the loose collective sense that a state is a collective with agency. Asking “capitalism” to come to moral account of its actions and ideological excesses is like asking the wind or the ocean to come to moral account. It’s a category mistake.
My sense is that German (and French, and Dutch) parliamentary institutions are better designed than the U.S.’s and so are better at balancing the influence of fringe parties against general will. That’s consistent with what I’m arguing about Habermas: that Europe is benefiting from more attentiveness to its legal procedures, holding them to an ideal of disinterestedness. In contrast, in the U.S. right now the very logic of legislative procedure (e.g. filibusters) is considered ad hoc and negotiable for the sake of short term political gain.
Fair enough. But there is a chicken and egg problem here. Are American institutions illegitimate because the population doesn’t care/know enough, or does the population not care/know enough because they are illegitimate?
Maybe we need to look at the origin of the American state to understand the answer. Most European institutions were created in conditions there were few racial/ethnic minorities to account for, or where they were greatly outnumbered by the dominant group. On the other hand the political class in this country has always had to defend itself from the interests and claims of native Americans and blacks, and so has always had an interest in erecting structural barriers to participation.
That is an interesting point, that the formation of the American state was in the context of Native Americans and blacks and so had more racial barriers from the get-go. (Like, the infamous 3/5’s clause).
This is a very interesting book review that discusses a number of theories of the American revolution.
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/05/15/we-could-have-been-canada
One book it reviews characterizes the revolution more as a victory of “radical Whigs” over “authoritarian reformers”, a contest that was happening more broadly across the British empire. This resonates with Habermas, incidentally, as if frames the new political formation as a bourgeois uprising against aristocracy. You might be inclined to say the founding of the United States was an experiment in a nation founded on mercantilism (transitioning into capitalism), as opposed to older forms of authority, from the get-go.
While I would agree that the founding institutions of the U.S. were problematically interwoven with race in particularly notable way, I’m always struck by how the political discourse in the U.S. obscures how ethnic conflict is typical everywhere else as well. Examples:
– In Europe, you have a continent ravaged by centuries of war across ethnic lines (albeit mainly variations of Caucasian ethnicities). Also, don’t get me started on religious wars.
– The Middle East has been mired in ethnic and religious conflict (often connected) since the beginning of recorded history. This includes periods of slavery, which continue on until today (see ISIS’s enslavement of Yazidis)
– South Asia has a caste system that combines all the features of racial and economic stratification. As far as I know the religious justification for the caste system is still a part of the mainstream (and now state affiliated) religion in India. (Contrast with Western Christianity, which has largely dropped its justifications of slavery (which included claims that blacks and whites were separate species) in favor of universalism).
– East Asian countries are as far as I can tell unashamedly ethnic nationalist. China has long distinguished themselves from barbarian outsiders and has a history of conquest which continues today in its treatment of Tibet and other ethnic minorities.
I could go on. My point is that all large, modern states are built on terrible histories.
I thought a bit more about it and I do think there is some merit to your points. I wonder though how much this can be attributed causally to our collective intellectual history. Is there some common precursor to both intellectual work and everyday people’s attitudes that can explain both?
That is a good question.
I do think my own bias is to vastly overestimate the importance of anything intellectual, including intellectual history.
I suppose if there is a common precursor, it is (a) history itself, and (b) the fact that students are recruited into intellectual fields from “everyday people”, and (c) that intellectuals despite their pretensions do have to engage with life every day.
The existence of intellectual institutions and their role in justifying (or critiquing) the state is interesting. It’s not direct. A comparison with religious institutions is worthwhile. College education in the United States has some things in common with religious indoctrination.
The data seems to say that college education (or lack of it) is a major factor in determining political orientation. All of this suggests you’re quite right to see disparities in the education system as the causal mechanism here.
Maybe both things can be explained by a weaker public education system – which means a less educated population, as well as less quality reviewers and academics to generate high quality scholarship. Which in turn could be explained by a reluctance of the state to educate the poor and minorities, or at least its preoccupation with issues related to segregation and class.
I think this hits the nail on the head. Relatedly, the fact that local school boards determine curriculum can lead to polarization within even public K-12 curricula. Culture wars start there.