Medieval Political Theory: A Reader

The Quest for the Body Politic 1100-1400

Kate Langdon Forhan, Cary Joseph Nederman, Kate Langdon Forhan, Cary Joseph Nederman

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• eBook ISBN: 9781136123566
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

A textbook anthology of important works of political thought revealing the development of ideas from the 12th to the 15th centuries. Includes new translations of both well-known and ignored writers, and an introductory overview.

Part I

THE TWELFTH CENTURY

1

LETTER TO POPE EUGENIUS III

Bernard of Clairvaux

INTRODUCTION

Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153) was a fiery preacher, an inspiring correspondent, and a prayerful ‘father of souls’ who had tremendous influence on medieval life and ideas. He was born into an aristocratic family in France and received the education appropriate to his age and class, and, presumably, his family expected him to have an influential career as well. But in 1111, Bernard entered a poor and strict monastery at Citeaux, accompanied by a number of young noble friends. Three years later, he was sent by his abbot to found a ‘daughter house’ at Clairvaux, the monastery associated with his name. From there he began a career that would influence popes, kings, scholars, lay people and monks. He had a burning desire to extend the reforms of the monastic movement to the whole Church – emperors and popes included. His zeal for reform, his charisma, intelligence, and, one suspects, a touch of self-righteousness, led him to accuse the philosopher Peter Abelard of heresy, to rebuke Emperor Lothair for his support of the rival Pope Antecletus, to preach (at the request of Pope Eugenius III) in favour of the Second Crusade. Throughout his long and influential career, he wrote hundreds of letters of instruction, rebuke, encouragement, consolation, and common sense to a varied audience of the poor and humble as well as the rich and powerful. He was canonized in 1170.

The letter included here had far more influence on medieval political ideas than would appear. It was long considered to be written about 1146 and to be describing the Second Crusade. Today some scholars believe it was written later, about 1150, and that it was to encourage the Pope to launch a new expedition to recapture the ‘Holy Lands’ and the city of Jerusalem. In any case, the letter articulates the doctrine of the ‘two swords’ which was used to justify the Pope’s temporal as well as spiritual authority. Told in slightly different versions in each of the four Gospels, the story of Jesus’ arrest in the garden of Gethsemane was understood by Bernard to signify the origins of Christian political power (Matthew 26:51–6, Mark 14:47, Luke 22:49–52, John 18:10–12). At the end of the meal which Jesus was eating with his followers, he warns them of the dangers to come and tells them that they should sell what they can to buy swords. The disciples show him that they already have two swords and Jesus says ‘It is enough’ (Luke 22:36–8). During the scuffle in the garden later that same evening, Peter drew his sword to defend Jesus, at which time Jesus commanded Peter to sheathe his weapon. Consequently, although Peter had the right to the ‘sword’ of temporal power, and therefore political authority, he and his successors were not permitted to shed blood.

LETTER TO POPE EUGENIUS III

The news is not good, but is sad and grave. And sad for whom? Rather, for whom is it not sad! Only for the sons of wrath, who do not feel anger, nor are they saddened by the sad events, but rejoice and exult in them. For everyone else, it is sad because it is a cause that affects the community. You have done well to praise the just zeal of the Church in France, and to corroborate its authority with your letters. I tell you, such a general and serious crisis is not an occasion to act tepidly nor timidly. I have read [in the book of] a certain wise man: ‘He is not brave whose spirit does not rise in difficulty.’ And I would add that a faithful person is even more faithful in disaster. The waters have risen to the soul of Christ, and touch the very pupil of his eye. Now, in this new suffering of our Lord Christ, we must draw the swords of the first Passion. And by whom else, if not you? Peter has them both to draw when necessary; one by his command, the other by his hand. One of them was not to be used by Peter, since he was told ‘Put your sword in the scabbard.’ Therefore, they were both his, but one was not to be drawn by his hand.

I believe that it is time for both to be drawn in defence of the Eastern Church. You hold the position, you ought also to have the zeal. What is it to hold the chief position and decline the responsibility? A voice is heard, ‘I go to Jerusalem to be crucified again.’ Some may be indifferent to it, others deaf, but the successor of Peter may not ignore it. He will say therefore, ‘All may be offended by you, but I am not.’ He will not be dismayed by the prior defeat of the army, but rather will do his best to restore it. Is there any reason for a man not to do his duty, just because God does as He wishes?

Truly, as I am a Christian and a believer, despite all the evils, I will hope for better, and I believe it to be a great joy, that we will find the way through various tribulations. Truly, we have eaten the bread of sorrow and drunk the wine of compunction. Why are you distrustful, friend of the Bridegroom, as though the kind and wise Bridegroom had not, as usual, delayed serving the good wine? Who knows, if God changes His mind, perhaps He will forgive, and leave behind a blessing? And certainly, as you know, the highest Divinity is accustomed to judge in this way. When has great good not been preceded by great evil? To mention nothing else, was not the unique and singular benefit of our salvation preceded by the death of our Saviour?

You therefore, friend of the Bridegroom, prove yourself a friend in need. If you love Christ with that triple love about which your predecessor was questioned [cf. John 21: 15–17] – with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength – then it is necessary to have no reservations, no inattention, while the bride is in danger; but watch over her with all the strength, with all the zeal, with all the care, with all the authority, with all the power that you have. An extraordinary danger demands an extraordinary effort. The foundation is shaken, and imminent ruin follows unless resisted. I have written boldly, but also truthfully for your sake.

You have heard by now that the assembly at Chartres chose me (in an amazing decision) leader and head of the military expedition, which, you may be sure, was not then nor is it now my wish. I am not capable (as I measure my strengths) of accomplishing such a thing. Who am I to set up camp efficiently or lead forth armed men? There is nothing more remote from my vows, even if I had the strength and the skill. But you know all this, it is not for me to lead you to wisdom. I ask humbly, by the love you particularly owe me, not to abandon me to human caprice; but ask eagerly for divine counsel, as particularly incumbent on you, and work diligently, so that as His will is done in heaven, it will also be on earth.

2

THE FABLE OF A MAN, HIS BELLY, AND HIS LIMBS

Marie de France

INTRODUCTION

Stereotypes about the Middle Ages abound, and the writings of Marie de France (fl. c. 1160) disprove several of them: she was a woman who was literate yet probably not a nun, she knew Latin as well as French, she was proud of her work and willing to take steps to defend it from others’ claims. Although details of her life are few, tantalizing bits of information can be found in her work. Scholars speculate that she was educated in Latin as well as French, and that she knew some English. It is believed that she had some connection with the literate, sophisticated Anglo-Norman court of Henry II of England and his queen Eleanor of Aquitaine.

We know today of three works composed by her: a collection of narrative poems, ‘Lais’; a translation from Latin of a twelfth century tale about a trip to the underworld, St Patrick’s Purgatory; and her collection of fables. But ‘facts’ about her life – who she was, where in France she was from, or how she lived, are very few.

The selection we have chosen from Marie’s works is a fable, the theme of which enjoyed great popularity in the Middle Ages. It was considered to have a political ‘moral’ stemming from the metaphor of the body politic, a metaphor that was often used to express ideas about politics. The story that the fable tells has two major classical sources: Livy’s History of the Romans which was the more ‘scholarly’ and philosophical source; and the Greek fabulist Aesop, whose work was translated into Latin in the fourth century by Romulus. Marie’s French version of the story made it accessible to non-scholars as well. It is even possible that Marie’s contemporary, John of Salisbury, heard her tell the story at Henry II’s court.

THE FABLE OF A MAN, HIS BELLY, AND HIS LIMBS

Of a man, I wish to tell,
As an example to remember,
Of his hands and of his feet,
and of his head – they were angry
Towards the belly that he carried,
About their earnings that it ate.
Then, they would not work anymore,
And they deprived it of its food.

But when the belly fasted,
They were quickly weakened.
Hands and feet had no strength
To work now as they were accustomed.
Food and drink they offered the belly
But they had starved it too long.
It did not have the strength to eat.
The belly dwindled to nothing
And the hands and feet went too.

From this example, one can see
What every free person ought to know:
No one can have honour
Who brings shame to his lord.
Nor can his lord have it either
If he wishes to shame his people.
If either one fails the other
Evil befalls them both.

3

METALOGICON AND POLICRATICUS

John of Salisbury

INTRODUCTION

The twelfth century is commonly considered to be a period of intellectual renaissance in such fields as philosophy, literature and law. One of the beneficiaries of this revival was political theory. By the mid-1100s, sustained and systematic reflection about the nature and purpose of political society, and about the normative standards by which political institutions ought to be judged, was a feature of the medieval intellectual landscape. No one contributed more to this renaissance of political theory than John of Salisbury (c. 1120–80). A native of Old Sarum (the original site of Salisbury), John received the best education available during the 1130s and 1140s: studying at Paris (and possibly Chartres), he encountered the lessons of Peter Abelard, Thierry of Chartres, William of Conches, and many other outstanding minds of his time. In 1148, after a dozen years in France, John entered the service of Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury, as his secretary and confidant. Theobald’s household attracted a large pool of talent, including Thomas Becket, the future Archbishop and martyr, whom John may first have met in Paris. When Becket left Theobald’s service at the end of 1154 to become Chancellor to King Henry II, John composed a satirical poem, the ‘Entheticus on the Teachings of the Philosophers’, which warns of the dangers and pitfalls of court life. John himself was soon to discover how precarious public service could be: falling into disfavour with the King for some unspecified reason, he withstood a period of internal exile in 1156/1157, during which time he seems to have conceived and begun to write his two major works, the Metalogicon and the Policraticus (both completed in 1159). Restored to royal favour, John found himself taking on increasing responsibility in Theobald’s household as the Archbishop’s health declined. In the wake of Theobald’s death in 1161 and Becket’s appointment as his successor, John remained in the service of the new Archbishop, and eventually (if less than wholeheartedly) followed his master into exile during the course of his conflict with Henry II over the rights of the Church. The tale that John was present at and wounded in the assassination of Becket at the altar of Canterbury Cathedral in 1170 is merely fanciful. After the Archbishop’s demise, John remained active in ecclesiastical affairs, and was appointed Bishop of Chartres in 1176.

John stood at the pinnacle of learning in the mid-twelfth century, and was an influential figure in the cause of humanistic instruction. His Metalogicon, a survey of the state of academic education and a critique of current pedagogical attitudes, stressed the capacity of human beings to enhance the gifts of nature and divine grace by way of concerted study and practice. Attacking the so-called ‘Cornificians’, a pseudonym for his opponents who maintained the rigidity of intellectual endowments, John pointed out that the fruits of social and political association only became possible as a result of the progressive refinement of the rational and linguistic skills of humankind. In this regard, John reveals himself to be a devoted adherent to Cicero’s political and rhetorical thought.

The Policraticus, John’s ‘mirror’ of the moral and political standards by which governments are to be evaluated, places a similar emphasis on edification, in this case on the education of rulers and their servants. Subtitled ‘Of the Frivolities of Courtiers and the Footprints of Philosophers’, the Policraticus is often described as the first complete work of medieval political theory. John begins with a long satirical critique of the temptations associated with public life, surveying the many forms of courtly entertainment which distract officials from the performance of their duties. He stresses the importance of the moral instruction of the ruler and the necessity for the king to surround himself with literate and wise counsellors; an evil prince with equally vicious advisors will necessarily be a tyrant who enslaves and oppresses his people. John asserts that a well-organized political community will resemble a healthy human body, guided by the soul (priesthood), ruled by a wise head (the king), and populated by all the limbs and organs (from the counselling heart to peasant feet) necessary for the efficient, just and mutually beneficial functioning of the entire organism. When this is achieved, the Policraticus states, the order implicit in nature is realized, the divine will is obeyed, and the earthly as well as eternal happiness of all members is assured. A badly arranged body politic, in which some or all of the parts seek their own good in separation from the common welfare, is impious, unnatural and ultimately miserable. John insists that when the lesser members of the body politic stray from the public good, the king is ultimately responsible for their correction or punishment. Should the ruler himself behave in a tyrannical manner, however, his subjects (if they are just) are equally bound by their duty to guide him back to the proper path or, failing that, to replace him. On these grounds, John takes the important step of defending the political and religious legitimacy of killing the incorrigible tyrant.

METALOGICON

BOOK 1

Chapter 1

…To all who are truly wise, there is no doubt that nature, the most merciful parent and the best disposed moderator of all affairs, has raised up human beings, among the other animated creatures it has brought forth, by the privilege of reason and has distinguished them by the faculty of eloquent speech, arranging by obliging diligence and well-disposed law that man, who is burdened and drawn down by the weight of base nature and the sluggishness of the bodily mass, may rise to the heights, borne aloft as though by beating wings, and that by this fortunate advantage he may surpass all others in obtaining the pinnacle of true happiness. Therefore, while grace makes nature fertile, [natural] reason watches over the investigation and examination of various matters, searches the inner depths of nature, and measures the fruits and accomplishments of individual persons, and by the love of goodness innate in everyone, urged along by one’s natural appetite, reason strives entirely or above all else for that which seems to be well-suited to taking hold of true happiness. Since no one who is unaware of communal life or who stands outside society can even conceive of true happiness, whoever attacks that which brings about the unification and fostering of the right of human society (which is in a certain way the unique and singular fraternity among the children of nature) would seem to obstruct everyone’s path to the attainment of happiness, and the route to peace is so blocked that the depths of nature combine to incite the destruction of the world. The effect of this is to propagate discord among brothers, to hand out weapons to the peaceful, and lastly to encourage a new and great chaos between God and human beings. For the creative Trinity, the one and true God, has so ordered the parts of the universe for the sake of a more firmly joined connection and protective charity that each one requires the assistance of the others and a defect in one is repaired by the others, insofar as each individual part is like a member of the other individual parts. All things are, therefore, incomplete if they are disconnected from one another, but otherwise they are perfected if they are associated, because everything stands in a firm relation of reciprocal aid. What is more trustworthy and useful for the sake of acquiring happiness than virtue? What is more profitable? For virtue is almost the singular and unique path which grace has provided for the sake of happiness. For those who are blessed without the merits of the virtues do not so much attain to it by themselves as are carried off to it. Consequently, I do not marvel enough (because I cannot) at what is intended by someone who denies that eloquent speech is to be studied, and who asserts it to arise from nature as a gift to those who are not mute, just as sight is a gift to those who are not blind or hearing to those not deaf, but who insists that even if the gift of nature is reinforced by training, still no benefit is offered by such art, or the art is of less worth than the effort expended. For just as eloquent speech is not only defiled but also dense when not illuminated by reason, so also wisdom which is not proficient in the use of words is not only disarmed but is in a certain manner crippled. For although speechless wisdom can sometimes reveal itself to a considerable extent within the confines of the solace of self-awareness, still seldom and to a small extent does it contribute to the utility of human society. For reason – the parent, wet-nurse and custodian of knowledge and virtue – which frequently conceives by means of words and which gives birth more prolifically and more fruitfully through words, either remains entirely sterile or at least unproductive if its fruitful conceptions were not brought forth into the light by the practice of eloquence and the prudent activity of which the human mind is cognizant were not made known everywhere. It is this sweet and fruitful marriage of reason and words that has engendered so many distinguished cities, has reconciled and allied so many kingdoms, and has united and tied together in love so many peoples, so that whomever endeavours to separate that which God has wedded for the sake of the common utility is universally condemned to the punishment accorded the public enemy. He who excludes the lessons of eloquence from the study of philosophy begrudges Philology to ...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Preface
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction: The Formation of Medieval Political Culture
• Part I The Twelfth Century
• Part II The Thirteenth Century
• Part III The Fourteenth Century
• Name Index
• Subject Index