Autor: Manent, Pierre

Buch: An Intellectual History of Liberalism

Titel: An Intellectual History of Liberalism

Stichwort: Rousseau 3; R. - Montesquieu; Absolutismus (-> homogene Gesellschaft) - Stadtstaat; R.: Hobbes Naturzustand als Beschreibung d. Gesellschaft (-> wahre menschl. Natur: Ggs zu Gesellschaft, Aufwertung solzialer Korrektur -> Revolution

Kurzinhalt: ... the idea of human nature oppressed by an unjust social order gives an eminent dignity to any social or political discontent ... the fact that this human nature can no longer be defined positively opens ... an unlimited space for action ...

Textausschnitt: 71a It would be highly presumptuous of anyone to decide hastily between Montesquieu and Rousseau. Rousseau's strength lies in the extraordinary persuasiveness of his description of modern man, to which we owe some of the most powerful achievements of modern literature. Montesquieu's strength is less dazzling, but no less convincing in the end: he proves that there is no desirable substitute for liberalism. Absolutism, of which the French monarchy represented the perfected example, could no longer be a real possibility. Its very success led to its downfall: precisely because he was elevated so high above the society he ruled, the king had been in a position to break up to a considerable extent the power of the various intermediary social bodies—seigniories, parliaments, Church—that constituted and also divided society. He had been in a position to create in their place a unified society composed of individuals, each one obeying the king directly, independently of the intermediary social bodies. The king had thus given society the possibility of perceiving itself as a unity, even, or especially, without him. The medium of this new unity was opinion. Besides, one can deduce the necessary abolition of absolutism from the very principles on which Hobbes founded it. Leviathan's raison d'être was to pacify relations among members of society. As that task was ever more efficiently accomplished, Leviathan became superfluous. (Fs)
71b Once absolutism self-destructs in this way, what political forms can be counted as viable? The idea of empire having been absorbed by absolute monarchy, there remains the city-state. Each time that a political order in Europe approaches its end and the question of succession arises, the idea of the ancient city-state reemerges with its prestige intact. That was the case during the Renaissance, as we saw earlier; at that time, monarchy prevailed because it was better equipped to confront the theologico-political problem. That was the case again in the eighteenth century when the exhaustion of the monarchical form became ever more noticeable. Montesquieu took this possibility seriously, yet rejected it resolutely. In his eyes, the Greek city-states and Rome were great achievements, superior in many respects to modern monarchies. But their advantages were bought at a very great cost: they were essentially warlike political bodies, in which the individual was certainly not oppressed as he is by despotism, but in which he was subjected to an exhausting social discipline.1 Modern man, whom commerce has led to acquire new habits, would find it very difficult to bear such inhuman constraints; and it would be absurd for him to take on such a burden. The English found a radically new means of escaping any risk of despotism, one that was also more satisfying since it transformed the individual from warrior into a proprietor of goods or talents, engaged in "making good use of his independence whenever he pleases." (Fs)

72a As for Rousseau, what substitute for liberalism does he propose? In his case, there is a great temptation to answer, the ancient city-state. And it is true, as I have noted, that ancient greatness is the criterion that in his eyes establishes modern degradation. But does he really propose the ancient city-state, or some new political system similar to it, as an effective and desirable possibility? The answer is no. The reason is twofold. First, such a revival is impossible. Monarchies built large states, whereas ancient public-spiritedness required a body politic of reduced dimensions. And there is a second, deeper reason: even if the ancient city-state were still possible, it would not be desirable. In Rousseau's own eyes, the ancient city-state is not really a credible model. (Fs)

72b A quotation taken from the Social Contract will make the ambiguity of Rousseau's position clear:

What! Freedom can only be maintained with the support of servitude? Perhaps. The two extremes meet. Everything that is not in nature has its problems, and civil society more than all the rest. There are some unfortunate situations when one cannot preserve one's freedom except at the expense of others, and when the citizen can only be perfectly free if the slave is completely enslaved. Such was Sparta's situation. As for you, modern peoples, you have no slaves, but you are slaves. You pay for their freedom with your own. You boast of that preference in vain; I find it more cowardly than humane. (Fs)

I do not mean by all this that it is necessary to have slaves, nor that the right of slavery is legitimate, since I have proved the opposite.2

The Greek city-state is the principle of indictment of modern liberal society, but it does not furnish a substitute for liberalism.3 (Fs)

73c What then are Rousseau's positive principles? This a is particularly delicate question. For him, modern society makes men nasty and unhappy; but it is unnatural for man to be nasty and unhappy. Therefore, this society is unnatural. The good society can only be one that conforms to man's nature. Thus the true nature of man has to be discovered: this is Rousseau's great investigation. (Fs)

73a Precisely because our society is unnatural, because the man we see is not natural man, the investigation is particularly difficult and perhaps impossible. Can we at least find a guide among the authors who have sought the truth about the state of nature? The greatest of such moderns is Hobbes. But it is quite obvious that his "state of nature," in which everyone is bent on seeking ever more power and getting the upper hand, is simply a reflection of our social state. Our social state, one might retort, is peaceful, whereas the state of nature fosters the war of all against all. But the difference is superficial, since our passions in time of peace are the very same as in the state of war. And the very fact that they do not dare approach a state of war, that they are condemned to inactivity, only makes them more corrupting. What Hobbes exposes is the very depths of the heart of civilized man. (Fs) (notabene)

73b So then what is the solution? There is only one: to remove one by one the veils that human convention and artifice have draped over the true face of man, to isolate the simplest operations of the human soul, to be able to say at last: "Here is man, man in his true nature!" This is the approach taken by Rousseau in his First Discourse, the "Discourse on the Origin of Inequality." (Fs) (notabene)

73c Since any society implies conventions and artifice, one has to consider man prior to conventions, artifice, or society: the original solitary individual. And since man develops his faculties only through the development of society, this original solitary individual will not be a man, but rather a kind of animal endowed with perfectibility, that is with the capacity to become a man. I have tried to suggest why Rousseau engages in this strange quest for natural man: the revulsion evoked by perhaps the most sociable, pleasant, and artificial society that Europe had even known naturally thrust him toward the opposite extreme. But there is another reason, one more intellectual and political. We have seen how Hobbes, in order to confront the theologico-political problem, posited a hypothetical individual who precedes what I have called the two obediences—the obedience to human law and to divine law. Through him Hobbes reconstructs the legitimate state finally delivered from conflict between the civil and religious powers. But since the entity being sought is imaginary, nothing can end this investigation, for there are always good reasons for going further than one's predecessors. Or rather, this search reaches a necessary end only when the original man ceases to be a man. This is the point reached by Rousseau. (Fs)

73d The political consequences of this new and ultimate definition of the natural "man" are considerable. At this stage natural man no longer has anything social or specifically human about him: the natural "man" is one who lives outside of or beyond any society. Not just our society, but every society, even the best, is contrary to man's nature. What then is the meaning of political protest, of the search for a society conforming to man's nature, if man is not by nature social—if society as such is contrary to his nature? This is Rousseau's problem. Rousseau's thought incarnates that paradoxical moment when man's nature is most vehemently appealed to in the political debate, and when it ceases in fact to serve as its regulator and criterion. This theoretical contradiction opens new possibilities for political action. On the one hand, the idea of human nature oppressed by an unjust social order gives an eminent dignity to any social or political discontent; on the other, the fact that this human nature can no longer be defined positively opens an immense opportunity, an unlimited space for action destined to right all social wrongs. It is the point when revolution, in the modern sense of the term, becomes possible. (Fs)