The Ideology of Order

A Comparative Analysis of Jean Bodin and Thomas Hobbes

Preston King

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• eBook ISBN: 9781135253332
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

A school of thought traceable to the political writings of Bodin and Hobbes believes that "order" is the cardinal principle which takes precedence over "justice" - which is reduced to conformity. The main concern of this book is to analyse this tradition through study of its progenitors.

PART ONE

INTRODUCTION

Chapter One

Introduction

ABSOLUTISM AND PLURALISM

Descriptions of group activity which posit such activity as involving, or tending towards, complete control from a discrete centre, as well as normatively espousing such a tendency, are often called absolutist. Descriptions of group activity which posit such activity as involving, or tending towards, the lack of control from a discrete centre, as well as normatively espousing this, are frequently labelled pluralist. In the case of absolutism we are concerned with a movement of thought which both describes and recommends the ‘illimitable’ concentration or integration of political power. In the case of pluralism we are concerned with the same process in reverse: description and recommendation of the ‘illimitable’ decentralisation, or indeed the dissolution, of power. Descriptively and normatively, the logical terminus of absolutism is hier-archy; that of pluralism is an-archy.

On one level, hierarchy may be described as a situation in which several groups are controlled by one (perhaps an imperial polity). On the same level, anarchy may be described as a situation in which each of several groups controls itself (perhaps a community of sovereign states). On another level, hierarchy can be defined as a situation in which one group is controlled by one of its members (perhaps a despotic state). On this same level, anarchy can be defined as a situation in which no member of a group is controlled by any other member (perhaps a Hobbesian ‘state of nature’). Let us concentrate on this second level of hierarchy and anarchy. On this level, anarchy, for example, implies an absence of control by any member over others, but does not exclude the presence of control by each member over himself. Similarly, hierarchy implies a presence of control by one member over all others, but does not exclude an absence of control over the controlling member by another agent (perhaps a foreign power). Anarchy therefore defines not a total lack of control, but an absence of control from a specific centre. Hierarchy does not define a total presence of control, but the exercise of some degree of control from a specific centre. Anarchy, therefore, is compatible with the presence, and hierarchy with the absence, of control. They only define the absence or presence of control from a given locus, or from the perspective of a given agent, or as regards adherence to a specific rule (or rules).

To describe a society as anarchical must always imply, not that there are no rules, nor any authority, but that some particular rule or rules are inoperative, or that some particular agent is not authoritative. To describe a society as hierarchical must always imply, not that all activity is rule-bound, nor that some authority wields total power, but merely that a specific rule or rules, or a specific authority or authorities, wields or wield some determinate and ordering power. We may assume that any unit which we designate a society is to be understood to cohere by virtue of the sharing of some common rule or rules. In so far as such a unit gives evidence of some form of ordered character, it represents, to such a degree, a hierarchy. In so far as there is no formal limit upon the number of rules that such a unit may evolve, so far as it can always add more rules than it actually has, and so far as a society (accordingly) always exhibits fewer rules than it might, it follows (from all this) that every hierarchy – now observed from the perspective of rules which it does not observe – is also an anarchy.

Some aspects of political and social activity will be organised, others will be un-organised. No society or collectivity or state can be completely organised or completely un-organised. This is merely to say that in so far as a society exhibits some rule-bound behaviour it is organised; and that, in so far as all behaviour cannot be rule-bound, it is not nor can be completely organised. Any organisation, perceived from the perspective of one of its foci, may elaborate more rules, or fewer. An organisation may go on elaborating rules indefinitely, but it cannot go on subtracting rules indefinitely. When it has subtracted the last rule, if it leaves not a single one in force, then that organisation, as defined from a specific centre, ceases to exist. However, because one focus of control within an organisation ceases to exist, it does not mean that the organisation per se expires. Similarly, if that focus is itself identified as the organisation, it does not follow that, on expiry, those persons who were accounted the members of the organisation cease entirely to be related to one another in some rule-bound fashion. (An imperial polity, for example, might ‘expire’, in the sense that the central power is subsequently replaced by a series of independent states. The anarchy implied in the expiry of imperial control – a particular focus – is not equivalent to a disintegration of control per se.)

Hierarchy and anarchy may be regarded as interrelated phenomena: a given society always projects a hierarchy from one perspective, anarchy from another. The idea involved here is that within a society one may escape some organisation, but not all organisation. A further conjoint idea involved in all this is that, although one may promote some organisation, one cannot achieve total organisation. The ultimate sin of absolutism lies in the promotion of total organisation, that of pluralism in the promotion of no organisation. Absolutism and pluralism are inclined to fall overboard fore and aft in this way. Both, however, looking at the matter more charitably, merely define a direction of concern, where the direction seems to indicate an a priori disposition.

In so far as both absolutism and pluralism are descriptively concerned with the nature of social structure (however far they may tend to go in recommending divergent extremes of action), both reflect empirical interest in the nature and degree of organisation or non-organisation that obtains within groups. On the empirical level, absolutism and pluralism involve reflection on order, but from divergent standpoints: the one is largely concerned with those characteristics which make it possible to say that an organisation is an organisation, that it exists as a unit, as a whole; the other is largely concerned with the manner in which an organisation retains its identity as a unit while containing a variety of sub-units, and thus projects unity in diversity. Unity (the concentration of power or authority), whether it be considerable or minimal, still involves unity. Power or authority, whether diffuse or constricted, remains one or the other. An order, whether weak or strong, whether expressed through one rule or through many, remains an order. And absolutism and pluralism, in so far as they are concerned with unity or authority or power or order, may attach to this concern a measure of reverence for these things: which we may simply refer to as order, however absolute or plural a form it may assume. Pluralism, however, partly attempts to undermine the reverence for order which absolutism betrays. (For the moment it does not matter that the pluralist attempt is largely unsuccessful.) The result is that the ideology of order is a more distinctly absolutist than a pluralist concern. The present essay, accordingly, has essentially to do with absolutism rather than with pluralism.

When we think of political philosophies of absolutism, attention may be directed to writers like Niccolb Machiavelli, Jean Bodin and Thomas Hobbes. When we think of pluralism, however, no similarly immediate response is possible. In an earlier essay, Fear of Power, which is entirely continuous with the present book, I treated Alexis de Tocqueville, Pierre-Joseph Proudhon and Georges Sorel, in effect, as pluralists – as being more concerned, in an a priori fashion, with dismantling than with constructing power concentrations. There is no need to retrace here the steps of that earlier study. But it is in part because of it that I feel no need here to supply a portrait of pluralism, other than sketchily, comparatively, and as consisting in little more than a general current of ideas. More importantly, there are no individual ‘pluralists’ who will bear comparison with ‘absolutists’ like Hobbes (especially), Bodin, Spinoza, Rousseau, Kant, Hegel and, indeed, John Austin. Such men as these display analytical powers of the very first order. Men like Johannes Althusius and the Baron de Montesquieu are quite out of their depth in such company (although they might bear comparison with Bodin). John Locke would be an excellent recruit for the pluralist school, the only difficulty being that he points decisively in two contrary directions: the one towards some form of separation of powers, the other towards an unlimited concentration of power in the hands of the people.

There are at least two reasons why no individual ‘pluralist’ will stand comparison with the chief ‘absolutists’, why pluralism in itself tends to constitute a cluster of ideas lacking representatives as distinguished as Machiavelli, Bodin and Hobbes. In the first place, not one of the latter can actually be regarded as entirely anti-pluralist. Machiavelli had republican yearnings. Bodin was absorbed by a genuine search for justice. Hobbes remained to some degree an individualist. That is to say, none of these men would accept that a complete absence of independence or diversity was either possible or desirable (however far they might lean in that direction). Accordingly it would be difficult for any social or political theorist of note, following in their wake, to proclaim himself wholly uninfluenced by their arguments – at least in the sense that none is completely opposed to all they say. Secondly, pluralism has no entirely independent character since it consists largely in an attack upon absolutism: modifications to a plan do not mean much when examined out of the context of the plan they modify. Accordingly, those who might stand out by virtue of attempts to amend absolutist doctrines in a pluralist direction, find themselves, instead, enveloped in an historical shadow – the shadow of absolutist icons, the reach of which (for sound heuristic reasons) they never entirely escape.

In consequence, there are no truly notable theorists who can serve as worthy or appropriate respondents to absolutism. Hence it is best, as suggested, to portray pluralism as a current of ideas. Federalism, lying at the centre of this current, constitutes a species of float from and to which various pluralist notions spring and return. All about, a variety of nineteenth- and twentieth-century figures disport themselves: men like Tocqueville, Proudhon, Otto von Gierke, John Maitland, J. N. Figgis, William James, Ernest Barker, Harold Laski, G. D. H. Cole, Léon Duguit, and many others. It is this current of ideas, and such men as these who are drawn into it, that we should keep in mind as constituting or representing ‘pluralism’.

Having briefly outlined what we mean by absolutism and pluralism, it will now be in order to state a broad assumption which I make in regard to them: this, in short, is that it is absurd to style oneself a proponent of either doctrine in any universal or even general sense. On the factual level, each describes a reality largely complementary to that described by the other: absolutists tend to be concerned with overall state structure (‘sovereignty’ is a central feature of this concern), pluralists with such subordinate corporate structures as figure in, or are embraced by, the state (like families, guilds, businesses, local government, and so on). On the recommendatory level, each proposes a course of action which may be appropriate in one situation but not in another: absolutists tend to favour increasing, pluralists decreasing, concentrations of power.

Absolutism and pluralism, therefore, do not consistently contradict each other, and neither is to be studied, promoted or praised to the entire exclusion of the other. Absolutism suggests firmness and singlemindedness of purpose; pluralism suggests a recognition of multiplicity as legitimate. A basic norm underlying absolutism is the appeal to strength; that underlying pluralism is an appeal to tolerance. There is no necessary contradiction in any given ruler or government proving both strong and tolerant. Further, a government may increase its strength by extending its tolerance; or it may be able to extend its tolerance by virtue of its strength. And where absolutism, in the descriptive sphere, merely seeks to portray the essential features of superstructures, it gives no necessary offence to pluralism, where the latter merely seeks to account for the general character of infrastructures.

Despite differential stress upon firmness and tolerance, as promoted respectively by absolutist and pluralist orientations, the central point of the present book grows out of the compatibility of these orientations. In so far as absolutism promotes greater concentrations, and pluralism smaller concentrations of power, both must still be regarded as promoting concentrations of power – even though differences in number, type and degree are important. Even where absolutism does not stop short of the assumption and recommendation that one centre possesses total power, nor pluralism short of the belief that all centres can and should possess no power, both are aligned on an identical continuum: that which has to do with how much power is wielded from a given locus. The amount of power that is and can be wielded is, of course, always more or less. Absolutism is always concerned with more, pluralism with less, but – as argued above – both are concerned with concentrations of power.

We may now touch on a point which, for our present purposes, is more important than, although directly connected with, what has just been said: any centre of power, however great, however small, can (and may be requested to) wield such authority as it enjoys with extreme resolution and vigour. The ideology of order, involving the acceptance, praise and promotion of the latter, can obtain in any form of order, whatever the degree of order. Any ordering or ruling element, whether it consists of one, few or many, may assume that its particular constitution and composition are ideal. In such circumstances, whatever the structure of the society or state, whether it be monistic or pluralistic, the crucial consideration is that the acceptance of its legitimacy may take the form of condoning whatever regulations are cast up by whoever or whatever organs are regarded as authoritative. In this respect, it does not matter whether a power concentration is highly restricted or very extensive: its legitimacy, and that of the rules or norms which proceed from it, may be regarded as virtually or entirely absolute. The consequence is as indicated: its utterances must be regarded as inviolate.

Absolutism is more dependent than pluralism upon the ideology of order. It attempts to validate norms almost exclusively by reference to who issued them. At first sight, pluralism appears to proceed in exactly the same manner: its arguments against absolutism lead into arguments for a different species of who (or persona), for a larger deciding body, or for a more diversified process of decision. The difference is that pluralist objections to absolutism may project at least some minimal disquiet regarding the notion that the rules thrown up by a deciding agent are necessarily legitimate (i.e. ought absolutely to be accepted) in so far as they proceed from some accepted source. Pluralism is continuous with absolutism but also less extreme. This continuity has to be demonstrated: as, most importantly, between federalism and absolutism; both can be said, obviously, to project significant forms of centralised power. But the ideology of order, though it may surface within any regime, whether labelled federalist or absolutist or other, is most conspicuously displayed by absolutism. The ideology of order, whether it surfaces in regimes that we call ‘totalitarian’, ‘democratic’ or other, is essentially a survival from absolutism, and is essentially to be attacked through a critique of absolutism.

In any study of absolutism or pluralism the general problem that we encounter is this: what can we learn about human organisation on both factual and normative levels? The severe answer, in the context of the present discussion, is – very little. The insights that we gain are more likely to be logical than either factual or normative, but since logic is fundamental to the marshalling both of facts and of norms this need not be regarded as an unworthy gain. In the present book we are less concerned with history than with philosophy, less with aptness of judgement than with the force of logic. It is this which explains my approach to Bodin and Hobbes, who are taken as the chief representatives of the absolutist tradition. Whereas Fear of Power dealt fairly fully with the detailed logical thrust of three pluralists, the general object of the present exercise is to consider in even greater detail the logical thrust of two major absolutists.

Our concern here is not just with what given historical figures thought, but with the nature and logic of social and political organisation in so far as it may be perceived through or contradicted in their thought. Absolutism is an excellent focus of attention because, more than most doctrines, it lies at the heart at least of all classical discussions of the nature of political power and social organisation. Here we are concerned with what power and organisation are, and with how we proceed when saying what they are. In this sense, therefore, we are also concerned with the methodology – the logic – of the social sciences.

The present focus on absolutism is somewhat vulgar and certainly preliminary, in so far as it involves an underlying concern with social science methodology. But absolutism represents one of the chief clusters of ideas about the nature of the political process, and thus contains notions that purport to be normative and factual, universal and (merely) general, simply ‘true’ and self-consciously ‘ideological’. From an analysis of absolutist thinkers we may be able to begin to disengage some methodological principles for our own times.

THE METHODOLOGICAL RELEVANCE OF HISTORY

In social and political studies, the perennial debate, as also the most important, concerns (what we might broadly call) methodology. The latter is made up of a number of components, but most importantly the problem of distinguishing between values and facts; the possibility of achieving a ‘value-free’ description of social reality; the question whether all descriptions of social reality are ‘ideological’; the question whether ‘value-loaded’ descriptions are necessarily ‘unobjective’, and so on. These problems shade into one another and interlock. Such clusters of problems will surface time and again during the course of the discussion which follows. They are set in an historical tradition of (what we might call) cumulative treatment. For not only have phenomena a history; so too, has the study of phenomena. In this connection, perhaps, the modern study of social science methodology most importantly commences in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The writers of this period set out a basic range of problems which later students have come and continue to attack.

The doctrine of absolutism is basically the theory of sovereignty, and vice versa. These notions achieve their first and possibly their highest degree of theoretical significance as expounded by Bodin and Hobbes. Both men are concerned with achieving the profoundest possible understanding of what political reality is about. ‘Sovereignty’ is burdened with a variety of meanings which we need not explore. It does, however, cover at least one central concern which we shall take up: the notion of the actual character of state power, conceived in some universal sense. By many, Machiavelli is regarded as the initiator of this tradition. By others, Bodin is singled out for praise. For me, Bodin and Hobbes are the two chief figures; nonetheless, something will be said about Machiavelli. In any event, our concern is more with the reality of arguments and less...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Preface to the Second Edition: Order as Sovereignty
• Preface to the First Edition
• PART ONE: INTRODUCTION
• PART TWO: ABSOLUTIST PERSPECTIVES
• PART THREE: TWILIGHT OF THE PLURALIST STATE: JEAN BODIN
• PART FOUR: DAWN OF THE ABSOLUTIST STATE: THOMAS HOBBES
• PART FIVE: CONCLUSION
• APPENDIXES
• Bibliography
• Index