If political philosophy has recovered from its twentieth-century torpor, one reason is the work and continuing influence of Leo Strauss. Strauss famously declined the title of philosopher, calling himself “only a scholar,” but those who have benefited from his work understand the transformation in their own thinking that he helped to foster, a transformation comparable to those effected by many of the great philosophers of the past.

For those not familiar with Strauss’s thought and ideas, the task of becoming so promises to be arduous, nor is it rendered any easier by Strauss’s unique approach to textual interpretation, his manner of writing, and the controversies that swirl about him. Michael and Catherine Zuckert are well-known students of Leo Strauss. Their first joint effort, The Truth about Leo Strauss (2006), was an attempt to defend Strauss from critics who had not always begun with a solid understanding of his thinking. The current book expands on their previous work, but it is, as the authors say, “much less polemical and aims to be more comprehensive and philosophic” (p. 14). In fulfilling this aim, the Zuckerts have succeeded beautifully. This latest effort will serve both as an excellent introduction for those unfamiliar with Strauss’s thought and influence and as a path to a much fuller understanding for those who are already familiar with some aspects of his works.

The Zuckerts identify what Strauss called the problem of political philosophy, but “problem” here has several related meanings. The most fundamental problem for Strauss is the tension between philosophy and the city, between what the Zuckerts call “intransigent questioning” and “unquestioning faith” (p. 11). This tension informs two approaches to political philosophy: the Aristotelian approach, which sees political philosophy as an offshoot of political life, and the Socratic-Platonic approach, which sees it as an offshoot or even the core of philosophy itself. The Zuckerts argue that Strauss’s approach is Socratic-Platonic, regarding political life primarily from the standpoint of the philosopher. This tension also gives rise to the need for esotericism: the cultivation of a protective rhetoric for philosophy that avoids unnecessary harm to the beliefs and morals that hold society together, while at the same time inviting the philosophically inclined to a life of free inquiry.

Another aspect of the problem of political philosophy concerns the conflict between reason and faith, between Athens versus Jerusalem, which can be understood as a species of the conflict between philosophy and the city. Greek philosophy seeks the source of order and justice in the austere, impersonal forces that determine the character of the cosmos, as the Zuckerts say, while the biblical God is omnipotent, ruling the universe according to his mysterious will. Strauss saw this tension as the secret of Western civilization and took a dim view of the efforts of Aquinas and others to overcome it. Indeed, medieval Christian efforts to synthesize faith and reason, in Strauss’s view, provoked the “antitheological ire” of Machiavelli and gave rise to the project of modern political philosophy, which, eschewing the efforts of the classics to start with the ideal, lowered its sights onto the real and changed philosophy’s role in society to that of conquering nature for the benefit of mankind. The quarrel between the ancients and moderns represents yet another aspect of the problem of political philosophy.

The Zuckerts’ current book is divided into three parts. The first concerns Strauss’s critique of two highly influential schools of twentieth-century thought: positivism and historicism, which had pernicious effects, in Strauss’s view, on the correct understanding of the ancient texts of political philosophy. Indeed, positivism and historicism seemed to imply that political philosophy itself, the quest for knowledge about moral and political things, is impossible. Strauss’s critiques, paving the way for a renewed interest in political philosophy, may prove the most beneficial and enduring feature of his legacy. The second part of the book discusses prominent features of Strauss’s understanding of the history of political philosophy. This section offers intriguing discussions about Aristotle as the forerunner to the great Christian synthesis, about the main differences between Marsilius of Padua and Machiavelli at the beginnings of modernity, and about Strauss’s critique of the Thomistic theory of natural right in an essay of his on the political philosophy of Locke. In the third part, the Zuckerts discuss Strauss’s relation to his contemporaries, including his relation to Jewish thinkers like Franz Rosenzweig and Martin Buber, and a summary of the diverse interpretations of Strauss’s thought among his students.

The book concludes by describing Strauss’s “project” and by discussing certain of his claims that, from the Zuckerts’ point of view, and my own, need reexamination. They wonder if Strauss’s dismissal of the Platonic theory of ideas as central to Platonic thought can be sustained. They wonder if Aristotle’s science of politics can be understood apart from his teleological understanding of nature, as Strauss seemed to suggest it could. They wonder if Strauss’s understanding of the conflict between philosophy and law characteristic of medieval Islamic philosophy adversely affected his reading of the ancient Greek and Roman philosophers who had no contact with Jewish law. And they wonder if Strauss’s claim that Machiavelli was a “philosopher” in the Socratic-Platonic tradition can be accurate.

To this list of claims by Strauss that need reexamination another should be added, perhaps the most fundamental of them all from Strauss’s point of view: the assertion of an ineluctable tension between philosophy and the city, and of the related tension between Athens and Jerusalem. In fact, much of Strauss’s understanding of the history of political philosophy emerges out of these fundamental claims.

No one, of course, doubts that such tensions exist, but the question is whether Strauss has characterized them accurately. Is the city in fact well served by unquestioning faith? Plato’s ideal city teaches noble lies to its young, but its rulers are wise by hypothesis. The rulers of actual cities almost never are. To what degree were the city fathers of Athens, for example, acting wisely when they punished Socrates? How much, on the other hand, were they acting out of baser motives, ignorance, or mere superstition? How one answers such questions will determine the extent to which one considers esotericism essential to the philosophical life and to the art of philosophical writing. Finally, is the related tension Strauss seeks to restore between Athens and Jerusalem really the secret of Western civilization? Is the God of revelation as voluntaristic as Strauss claims, without any features of the transcendent idea of the Good that we find in Plato’s Republic or of Aristotle’s mind that thinks itself? And does the God of the Bible in fact demand unquestioning faith (see, e.g., Gen. 18:16–33, Job 21, 42:7, Matt. 7:7–8)?

The Zuckerts are inviting readers to learn about, consider, and even challenge Strauss’s ideas and his interpretations of ancient texts. This formidable task requires an adequate understanding of his work; Leo Strauss and the Problem of Political Philosophy is an invaluable aid in getting us there.