The Naturalness of International Political Life

One major theme of the Thomists was the naturalness of political authority. While coercion might be often used by the state, it did not constitute its fundamental principle. Rather, the state's fundamental principle was the coordination of the common good, a task that would be necessary even if there were no evil people at all from whom to protect others. Thomism of course was ultimately Aristotelian in its foundation, and hence there is heavy emphasis on the idea of human beings as political animals. Wight explicitly ties in this Aristotelian view of political life to the Grotian tradition.Footnote ¹¹

While not everyone Wight places in the Grotian tradition can be described as an Aristotelian — Locke comes to mind — quite a few can: Aquinas, Vitoria, Suárez, and so forth. In fact, Aquinas is the very first thinker mentioned as being in the Grotian tradition in the International Theory lectures, and Wight notes he is “the first Whig” according to Lord Acton. Wight also explicitly associates Thomism as a whole with the Grotian tradition (Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter1992, 13, 15; Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter2005, 123).

One could, of course, hold an Aristotelian view of politics and yet deny community between states. But, in contrast to the Machiavellian view, the Grotian view held that this sociability is not confined to one's own political community, but extends outward to the international community. As Wight states:

Maritain argues in a similar fashion that contemporary nation-states are “imperfect” communities, particularly because economic interdependence is running ahead of extant political structures, and hence there is a necessity for international institutions as well as the recognition of duties to those outside the political community (Maritain Reference Maritain1951, 189–200).

Thus, the Grotian tradition is situated between a Machiavellian view of a non-existent society of states and a cosmopolitan Kantian view that sees the nation-state as fading away into nothingness. This perspective on the international arena is at odds with more traditional realist thinkers like Morgenthau and Niebuhr, who see states as the concrete locus of values and little or no community between them. In other words, the realists are simply restating the Hobbesian dictum that “Where there is no common Power, there is no Law; where no Law, no Injustice.”Footnote ¹²

Both Wight and Maritain resisted this account of the sovereign state. Wight wrote of the modern state as Leviathan in which power was emancipated from right, contrasting it with medieval political communities that saw themselves as part of a broader moral framework. Furthermore, the modern sovereign state demanded ultimate loyalty; the rise of nationalism as an ideology reinforced this. Likewise, Maritain criticizes the idea of the modern state as being its own justification; that is, the state was an end in itself and thus it was permissible to do anything to preserve it. Thus, the idea of the state as a means to an end, the well-being of its citizens, is obscured. Furthermore, as long as this idea remains, nothing can check the state's desire for external expansion other than other states with their similar desires (Wight Reference Wight, Bull and Holbraad1995, 26; Wight Reference Wight1948, 30; Maritain Reference Maritain1951, 191–194).

Natural Law and the Non-Political

If one is not satisfied with the Hobbesian view, as Wight is not, where does one find the concrete meaning of ideals other than in national institutions or some messiah-state? One finds it in the heroic sacrifice of the individual who defies the state.

In this context, the term political refers to the polis, the state. As noted above, much of the realist tradition could not see the relevance of moral ideas above the state; these were abstractions. But Wight explicitly rejects this perspective. The two ideas mentioned in the quote above “contain the paradox, that the health of the political realm is only maintained by conscientious objection to the political… It is clear that the natural law tradition is the soil out of which these ideas have sprung” (Wight Reference Wight, Butterfield and Wight1966, 122–23). Here is a clear break with Wight's fellow realists, most of whom reject natural law as mere ideology or at least of no effect in the international arena (Morgenthau Reference Morgenthau and Thompson1985, 106). Reviewing Morgenthau's book Dilemmas of Politics, Wight noted that Morgenthau

While thinkers such as Morgenthau and Strauss seemed to have in common the idea of the pursuit of perennial political truths, they apparently disagree on any sort of final moral truths about politics, or at least the knowability of them. In terms of substantive analysis of the international system, Wight and Morgenthau differed little (Morgenthau Reference Morgenthau1970, 250). But given his exploration of natural law ideas in the Grotian tradition, it seems clear that Wight has reservations about the rejection of natural law by the mainstream of the realist tradition. Maritain likewise rejected this view of the particular society being the final arbiter of morality.Footnote ¹⁴

Wight goes on in “Western Values” to discuss some of the natural law characteristics of Western thought as it relates not only to the relation of citizen to state, but to the politician in relating political responsibilities to moral duties. It may give encouragement “to rulers themselves to break free from political categories, to deny the finality of human institutions” (Wight Reference Wight, Butterfield and Wight1966, 123). Wight's examples of statesmen who thought in this fashion are Burke, Lincoln, Bismarck, Gladstone, and Churchill, who sensed themselves as in some way, and in varying degrees of humility, “instruments of Providence.” Wight goes on to say that the natural law ethic comes into its own “at the point where the politically expedient and the morally permissible come into conflict” (Wight Reference Wight, Butterfield and Wight1966, 124). Responding to the skeptic who thinks the dramatic moral veto on immoral action is non-existent, or at least exceedingly rare, Wight contends that European civilization has given rise to the idea of political ethics, whereas the Greeks and Romans had given little thought to such matters; the idea of a political morality distinct from personal morality and from Realpolitik is particular to medieval and modern European thought (Wight Reference Wight, Butterfield and Wight1966, 126–27).

I have noted Wight's linkage of the Grotian tradition with the natural law tradition. For Wight natural law at its most basic is the idea of a “higher” law that denies the finality of human institutions, the ideal that holds up the non-political against the alleged finality of political institutions. According to Wight, the fundamental problem of politics is the justification of power: is power for something or is it an end in itself? The Grotian tradition holds that there is a higher law, and that it gives guidance as to the purpose of politics.

The opening sentence of this paragraph seems to be a direct allusion to Maritain's Man and the State, probably the most definitive Thomist work of political philosophy: “The human person as an individual is for the body politic and the body politic is for the human person as a person. But man is by no means for the State. The State is for man;” “The people are above the State, the people are not for the State, the State is for the people” (Maritain Reference Maritain1951, 13, 260).Footnote ¹⁵ Maritain likewise notes that the task of political society is to better the conditions of human life itself for each concrete person; this is a moral task (Maritain Reference Maritain1951, 54; Maritain, Reference Maritain, Bird, Bird, Evans and O'Sullivan1996, 288). These conceptions of politics all posit that the essence of politics is the facilitation of human flourishing. Thus, the Thomist tradition does not see power as of the very essence of politics, despite its obvious importance. In contrast, many realists define politics as the struggle for power. This power may be used for a variety of ends, whether noble or base, but politics is essentially amoral (Morgenthau Reference Morgenthau and Thompson1985, 31).

Prudence as Virtue, not Expediency

Wight contends that medieval and early modern thinkers developed the concept of governments as trustees or stewards of their peoples, and hence have different moral duties from individuals (Wight Reference Wight, Butterfield and Wight1966, 127–28). Thus, the Grotian tradition contends that political life and private life are governed by different principles. The public official is a trustee; he or she is not free to act sacrificially, but rather must act in accordance with justice.

International ethics then considers prudence to be the paramount moral virtue. But note that prudence is not merely modest intention or the downscaling of great ambition, as it is often used in discussions of foreign policy. It is not mere pragmatism. Rather, prudence is a moral virtue that takes on added import when the actor is conceived of as a trustee. Thus, Wight contends, the fruit of the natural law ethic is that political expedience “is softened into prudence, which is a moral virtue” (Wight Reference Wight, Butterfield and Wight1966, 128). Clearly this places Wight well within the “normative prudence” tradition that Coll has outlined.

Like Wight, Maritain also seems to consider prudence to be the prime political virtue.

This prudence aims at fulfilling the common good of the social body, but, Maritain notes, it is a body of sinful and weak beings, which requires one to apply the principle of the lesser evil in order to achieve the greatest possible approximation to the common good. This view coheres with the Grotian tradition's perspective of politics as the field of the approximate and the provisional, which is grounded in its view of human nature that humans are both rational and pugnacious. Wight concludes that politics is the perpetual attempt to approximate justice; circumstances change, so the approximation must adjust. Since this is so, Wight contends, the mode of all statecraft and political action has to be compromise. Politics is the art of the possible: the concrete circumstances of the political environment will dictate to what extent a just outcome can be manifested; the principle governing the compromise is the choice of the lesser evil (Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter1992, 242–43).

Maritain argues that most proponents of the principle of the lesser evil use it as a pretext for not pursuing justice (Maritain Reference Maritain, Bird, Bird, Evans and O'Sullivan1996, 291). Charitably, this lack of pursuit might be attributed to the lack of belief that politics has anything to do with justice, for politics is the realm of the non-moral. Wight indicates that this is indeed what distinguishes Machiavellians from Grotians.

Thus, Grotians and Machiavellians both agree that politics is about compromise, but they have different conceptions of compromise. The Grotian compromises at a position short of absolute justice, because circumstances prevent a full manifestation. Justice is the ideal; an approximation is the goal. The Machiavellian sees compromise as being between opponents, not between justice and reality. The result of this, Wight contends, is that instead of attempting to secure justice, the “emphasis is on the technique rather than the content of the bargain, on the sheer expertise, what Machiavelli called virtù (virtuosity)” (Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter1992, 248).

The key idea is that for the Grotian compromise is vertical; it is compromise between reality and some transcendent conception of justice, which includes the legitimate interests of all states. For the Machiavellian, compromise is horizontal; it is simply compromise between State A and State B, without reference to a transcendent conception of justice. While Wight does not endorse the Machiavellian position, he does not deny it some validity. He lists several examples of negotiations in which justice had little or no consideration. But if the Machiavellian picture is completely accurate, then moral criteria do not matter and politics is solely about technical skill: virtù.

To be consistently Machiavellian, according to Wight, is to be consistently amoral. Contrasting the Machiavellian idea is the Grotian idea that politics is for something: the approximation of justice. Politics for politics' sake is a distortion of what politics is supposed to be all about, the securing of the material conditions necessary for human flourishing. Machiavellianism jettisons the notion of a purpose that politics is to serve.

Maritain's analysis of the Machiavellian perspective is similar to Wight's. Maritain dubs the Machiavellian view politicism, which is a conception that

This argument mirrors very closely the dichotomy that Wight seems to be setting up between Grotianism and Machiavellianism. Wight comments that for the Grotian, politics was a means to an end — “the security and comparative freedom of the rational man” — while for the Machiavellian the ends of politics is the enhancement of state power.

Maritain notes that politicism arose in response to supermoralism, a “purely formal and geometric” morality.

Maritain calls this supermoralism Kantian in inspiration.Footnote ¹⁷

In his article “The End of Machiavellianism,” Maritain elaborates on this account. He notes that the Machiavellian account of politics is that “good politics, politics conformable to its true nature and to its genuine aims, is by essence non-moral politics.” This view, Maritain goes on to say, is a “violent mutilation” of the human practical intellect and practical wisdom. Because of Machiavelli, Maritain says, today we have an “illusory but deadly antinomy” between idealism and realism. The former is supposedly equated with ethics, while the latter is supposedly equated with politics. If this is so then politics is art, not ethics; ethical and religious systems simply become material for the political artist to manipulate for the end of power (Maritain Reference Maritain1942, 3–9).

Both Maritain and Wight see the choice between Machiavelli (realism) and Kant (idealism) as a false dilemma. Wight's exploration of the three traditions seeks to transcend this “illusory but deadly antinomy.” As I noted above, each of Wight's three traditions has a particular emphasis and hence are potentially complementary. In contrast, the traditional realist-idealist dichotomy is a disagreement based on philosophical anthropology. In one sense, the three traditions are potentially complementary in that one can acknowledge the existence of diplomacy and commerce while believing that power and anarchy are pre-eminent. However, in International Theory, Wight does include a brief chapter on human nature and here the three traditions are arrayed on a spectrum ranging from pessimistic to optimistic. The Machiavellians tend to be pessimists and think that humans are plain bad or irreformable; the Kantians tend to be optimists and have an eye toward human perfection; the Grotians see human nature as a blend of good and evil. Since Wight includes a chapter on human nature, it is reasonable to conclude that there must be some sort of linkage between one's view of human nature and one's emphasis upon what is significant in international politics. Indeed, in what seem to be later versions of his lectures, Wight experimented with synthesizing that anthropological realist-idealist dichotomy into his three traditions when he subdivided each of them into two sub-traditions. Hence, there are Aggressive and Defensive Machiavellians, Grotian Realists and Grotian Idealists, and Evolutionary and Revolutionary Kantians. Wight arrayed them in a circle, so that Revolutionary Kantians and Aggressive Machiavellians are close neighbors (Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter1992, 158ff). Listed among the Grotian Realists are Churchill, Acheson, and Morgenthau; this position seems fairly close to Coll's prudence theorists with their realist starting point.

Politics and Providence

In concluding “Western Values in International Relations,” Wight notes that two extreme positions opposing the “political ethics” view that he has been outlining are Realpolitik, pure expediency where moral considerations are irrelevant, and Fiat justitia et pereat mundus, “let justice be done even if the world perish,” or, to use Maritain's terms, politicism and supermoralism. Wight ends his essay with the following.

There are remarkable parallels between Wight's position and Maritain's. There is a passage in Integral Humanism that closely parallels Wight's statement. In a section entitled “Politics and the Providence of God,” Maritain writes:

What the Machiavellian overlooks is duration: in the long run, Maritain argues, just political actions will bear good fruit and conversely, unjust political actions will bear bitter or rotten fruit. Wight's account of Hitler's fall seemed to imply such a perspective.

The added dimension to Hitler's Machiavellianism was his fanaticism that refused to admit the possibility of defeat. Presumably, limitless aims driven by fanaticism will bring forth the attempt to check such expansion; thus defeat seems inevitable or even providential. As discussed above, Wight recoiled from the idea of Leviathan: the sovereign state emancipated from morality. Here it is the individual who is so emancipated; in either case amorality leads to downfall.

In contrast to the above “Christian conception” of politics, Maritain describes three other conceptions of politics, which, consciously or not, are built upon non-Christian premises; he calls these pseudo-realisms. Upon close examination, the pseudo-realisms and the “true realism” he outlines bear a striking resemblance to Wight's three traditions, although discussed in a more overtly theological fashion. The first pseudo-realism, even though held by many Christians, rejects the idea of a Christian politics. It sees only the efficacy of force and grandeur, and a belief in what can only be immediately seen. This form of politics looks at political life in specific separated points of time; it fails to take into account history as a unified whole. This is a “banal and weak” pseudo-realism.

The second form of pseudo-realism is Machiavellian realism, which “denies in practice that man has come from the hands of God, and that he retains within him, in spite of everything, the grandeur and dignity of such an origin. Its pessimism, which invokes incontestable empiric truths, turns these truths into ontological lies” (Maritain Reference Maritain, Bird, Bird, Evans and O'Sullivan1996, 294). Wight says something similar about the Machiavellians: “Realists [Machiavellians] tend to be pessimistic about human nature, or rather, if ‘pessimism’ suggests a regret about the badness of what is recognized to be bad, the consistent Realist has no regrets; he sees human nature as just plain bad.” Presumably this is because of Machiavellianism's “rejection of transcendentalism” and “self-conscious, decisive break with the scholastic method” (Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter1992, 25; Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter2005, 5). For both Wight and Maritain, Machiavellianism replaces the Thomist and Grotian account of human beings as ontologically good but corrupted with an account of them as ontologically bad.

The third pseudo-realism is an “idealism inverted, of utopia become ‘science’ and ‘dialectic’''; this third pseudo-realism bears strong resemblance to Wight's Revolutionist or Kantian tradition, particularly in its Marxist form. Rousseau plays a role here for both Maritain and Wight. In contrast to the Machiavellians, this pseudo-realism “does not wish to recognize that which comes from nothingness in man.” If humans lack a divine condition, it is because some obstacle in the world prevents it, such as a class of people or set of institutions. If so, any means for eliminating that obstacle are legitimate (Maritain Reference Maritain, Bird, Bird, Evans and O'Sullivan1996, 294; Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter1992, 10, 12, 27).Footnote ¹⁹

What these three pseudo-realisms have in common, according to Maritain, is their lack of penetration as to what is deepest in humankind. The pseudo-realisms are atheistic in practice, if not in theory; they either debase man or divinize him. The Right denies the dignity that comes from being a creature of God: “it ousts God by dint of scorning man.” The Left denies the limitations that come from being a creature: “it removes the Creator in order to divinize man.” Fascism derives from the former; communism from the latter. The Grotian tradition in general and Thomism in particular affirms both the godlike and flawed aspects of human nature keeping them in tension, without losing sight of either (Maritain Reference Maritain, Bird, Bird, Evans and O'Sullivan1996, 295; Wight Reference Wight, Wight and Porter1992, 29). Thus, overtly for Maritain and covertly for Wight, it seems that “true realism” needs to incorporate God into its theory in some way.