On the Dangers of Liberal Society, part IV
When I began re-posting these essays I admitted that I was unsure about whether the point to be made in this series was important to me or not. Now, that I have re-posted all the sections that I had already written, I am more convinced than ever to continue this series and try to connect to what I was trying to say previously.
I largely have to thank the astute comments in Part III from Zach, Ian Boudreau, and Josh Brockway for crystallizing this affection in me. In their straightforward critiques of this series’ “defense” of fascism, they actually clarify the very dialectic I am trying to deconstruct in these essays. Describing that dialectic in reply to their objections and pointing to the inner problem with the axiology embedded in that dialectic will be the purpose of this post.
All of the objectors repeat, in different ways, a point initially made by Zach that seems (to them) to be quite obvious: “Liberal societies are better than illiberal ones.” Ian reiterates this by saying that my series “is a dead end. It ignores what is important about liberal and illiberal societies.” Josh, the most robust critic, makes his own similar points by saying that “the alternatives [to liberalism] are worse.”
My own intuitions are not far from the general point made by these most honorable critics. (Something I noted in part III, citing my own cowardliness in writing so glowingly about fascism.) I, too, find liberality—freedom, in other words—to be preferable to illiberality—oppression, in other words—in many ways, especially when those are the only two options on the table. But that preference is largely conceptual. In the world we live in, I am not so sure that what we consider to be liberal, or free, is, in fact, the case. I think that we can find a great deal of freedom in what seems to be remarkably oppressive and a great deal of oppression in what seems to be remarkably free.
That is to say, my point is not to merely advocate for an ethical preference or a theoretical fancy. Instead, I am commenting on the actual things we find in the world: the liberal state, the fascist state, the free market, the gulag. In that commentary I think it is important to point out that a liberal society is dangerous in ways that a illiberal one is not. In fact, when we look closely, we may find that what we usually consider to be “liberal” is actually quite “illiberal.” Following that somewhat uncontroversial observation, it follows that fascism presents us with degrees of liberality we often miss completely.
This shouldn’t be such a bombastic thing to say among Catholics. After all, “the blood of martyrs” is often referred to as “the seed of the Church.” Do we relish in the torture and death of the martyrs? Do we relish in the torture and death of Christ? (Something I wrote about in more detail here.) Not exactly, depending on what is meant by “relish.” Certainly not without a great deal of reverence and awe. What is understood by this sensibility is that the manifestation of oppression and even evil can still be pregnant with meaning—even the seed of the Church itself.
This sensibility would not be possible encased in the dialectical reasoning between the liberal and the illiberal. This would be, primarily, because there is nothing around that can be found to be reliably liberal or illiberal in total. And this only adds to the strangeness of the devotion we have acquired in the modern world to liberty as an end in itself.
That is to say that, this dialectic (between liberality and illiberality) is not only mysterious to me in the world we live in, it is also an odd axiom to begin with. Freedom and liberty seem to be rather sterile things to desire in and of themselves. I recently mentioned to a friend that that “fighting for freedom” is absurd, and I mean that. What I mean is this: No one “truly” fights for freedom, pure and simple. Not even when the fight is for the best we could possibly fight for.
Freedom is not an end in itself. So, it should come as little surprise that the dialectic between liberal and illiberal societies reveals a certain void. If all we desire as a society is to be free, then, we are not anarchists: we are fools.
Of course, no one would argue that the only thing they wanted society to be was free.
“Freedom is not an end in itself.”
This is true if one has a substantive notion of the good. Then freedom becomes important only insofar as it allows you to pursue this good. Call this the Augustinian Position.
But if one does *not* have a substantive notion of the good, if one thinks that one’s good is dependent upon one’s *choice*, then freedom must necessarily become an end in itself, since it is equated simply with the capacity to choose, and so the capacity to choose is taken to be constitutive of, rather than instrumental to, one’s “good”. Call this the Liberal Position.
So I agree with you that, in truth, freedom is not an end in itself. But I believe that it is part of the logic of liberalism to transform freedom into an end. This is, of course, one good sign of the incoherency of the liberal project. But that’s another question.
wj,
I understand what you are saying — although this kind of thing is way above my head, I admit — but when there is no one universally acknowledged substantive notion of the good, then doesn’t freedom become an end in itself for those who collectively want to form a society where they can follow their own notion of the good? Consequently, in the United States, where we have freedom of religion and a large number of religions, doesn’t freedom of religion — rather than one particular religion — become the end in itself for Americans collectively, so that each can pursue his own religion?
wj wrote: “I believe that it is part of the logic of liberalism to transform freedom into an end. This is, of course, one good sign of the incoherency of the liberal project. But that’s another question.”
I agree with the first part—you get right to the heart of my warning against ‘liberal’ society. I disagree that it is another question. It seems to be the major question to be answered. Although, it still doesn’t alleviate the thorny issue of finding liberality or illiberality in mutually exclusive ways.
Dave: These “freedoms” (speech, religion, and so on) are not innocent as I see them. That was my previous point about honey and bees.
Zach: I am glad this is uncontroversial to you. If you extend the ramification clarified by wj here, then, I think your assertion that “liberal societies are better than illiberal ones” becomes suspect at its root.
David,
You raise a good question. Here is an attempt at a response, that will also address some of Sam’s larger concerns in his series. (I take his point, by the way, that the conceptual incoherence of liberal “freedom” is “the major question to be answered.” My point was only that there are plenty of people, such as Rawlsians, who don’t see a problem here. How one motivates them to *see* a problem is itself a difficult question.)
But back to your question, which I consider rather to be a clarifying objection. Given the complete and total dominance of the Nation-State as the political framework within which the vast majority of human beings now live, it may very well be the case that a “liberal” State–one which does not presume to enforce from above a substantive notion of the good–is vastly preferable to what some people would call a “communitarian” State–one in which the State itself articulates and legislates a particular vision of the good for its citizens. The objection to Communitarianism, of course, is that it leads to, or is itself indistinguishable from, a totalitarian political regime.
The advantage of Liberalism *within the framework of the Nation-State* is that it allows, by virtue of its formal non-commitment to a *particular* vision of the good, for civic communities within its framework to articulate and pursue a substantive notion of the good. In America, for example, the Amish are able to develop a communal life in pursuit of a common good that is radically different and actually hostile to some of the presuppositions of liberal political theory, but they are able to do as much because the liberal State does not *itself* presume to have any such vision of the good.
So it *may* be the case that, given the reality of the Nation-State, we are wise to prefer a liberal rather than an illiberal state.
But the liberal Nation-State has its own problems, two of which emerge directly from our discussion. First, as Sam and others have documented at length, liberalism’s stated agnosticism with regard to a substantive notion of the good easily slips beyond the position of mere neutrality with regard to such a good, and can be taken implicitly to suggest that there *is* no such good. Second, it is unclear how the liberal Nation-State is supposed rationally to convince its citizens of their necessary allegiance to it to the point of death, precisely because, in lacking a substantive notion of the good, it may be seen to lack a reason justifying one’s dying for it–as opposed to one’s dying for a community with whose good one *does* identify.
So perhaps you are right that, given Nation-States, Liberal Nation-States are better than Illiberal ones. Much better, though, if our options were not so constrained by the ideology of the Nation-State itself.