Contrary to Arendt's claims, totalitarianism is not unique to the modern world. It is found occasionally in past ages and is exemplified in Shaka's rule over the Zulu. It is not clear whether the ideological “logic” of modern dictators differs from the seemingly paranoid behavior of Shaka or of certain ancient despots. Indeed, if Aristotle's account is accurate, certain extreme despots, by definition, treated citizens as slaves or household laborers. They thus projected the private realm into the public, effectively abolishing both; Arendt is wrong to say that modern dictators were the first to do so.

Announcement of the so-called Brezhnev Doctrine by Soviet spokesmen in 1968 has been widely regarded in the West as a development marking a new epoch in the evolution of the world communist system. The Doctrine has been commonly viewed as a Soviet response to the exigencies of Great Power politics in circumstances of continuing loss of revolutionary dynamism or as a reaction to the threat to Soviet hegemony in its inner bloc posed by uncontained polycentrism, or both. Much attention has been devoted to the concept of “limited sovereignty,” with this concept being treated as the heart of the Doctrine and as evidence of a major new departure in the Soviet approach to world politics. This assessment, interestingly enough, is generally favored both by Western analysts and by anti-Soviet spokesmen within the world communist system.

This essay examines various intellectual challenges posed by John Rawls's conception of an overlapping consensus, both in terms of his own approach and also that of Charles Taylor. Two questions are entertained: (1) whether various criticisms of Rawls's view are indeed justified and (2) if they are, whether Taylor puts them to rest. Though the latter question is answered somewhat in the negative, Taylor's version of overlapping consensus is interestingly different from that of Rawls in that Taylor introduces an important distinction between a tradition on the one hand and what Rawls terms a “comprehensive doctrine” on the other. The advantage of this distinction, among other things, is that it clarifies what is at stake in moving to any sort of overlapping consensus.

The unique relationship between religion the state, and society is perhaps the most fundamental—certainly it is the most distinctive—feature of American religious as well as American political life. It is not only central to any understanding of American institutions. It also constitutes the sharpest difference between American and European institutions, concepts, and traditions.

This article distinguishes between a competitive individualist process-oriented vision of equality and an egalitarian results-oriented vision of equality, and examines the changing relationship between these visions of equality in the American past. What is “exceptional” about the United States is not, as is often claimed, that it lacked a tradition of equal results but that those who favored equalizing results believed that equal process was a sufficient condition for realizing equal results. This study contends that these rival visions of equality, once believed to be mutually supportive, have become increasingly divorced in 20th century America.

In America, as elsewhere, Catholic effort to reform the modern economic order antedates by some years Rerum Novarum, Leo XIII's masterly encyclical on the condition of labor, issued in May, 1891. For a full generation Catholics in France and Germany had been organizing to ameliorate social conditions, and in all industrialized lands the more progressive members of the Church insisted that a sincere attempt to apply Christianity to the social order must be made without delay. The reformers, nevertheless, needed aid and encouragement from the Pope, preferably a reasoned analysis of the industrial situation showing the desirability and means of bettering labor's condition. Everywhere, the few Catholics who championed labor's cause in the Church's name met unyielding resistance from highly placed Catholics intent on protecting vested interests or sincere in thinking that social reform meant social convulsion. As for American Catholics, if their leaders, ecclesiastics for the most part, had not, in many instances or to a conspicuous degree, deferred to great wealth, as a group they had seen in the struggling labor movement little more than a revolutionary uprising, a projection on these shores of the Socialist and Anarchist movements of the Old World.

The concept of the General Will has been criticized as being either tyrannical or empirically unattainable. From a social choice perspective, Riker (1982) and others have merged the substance of both perspectives. The new argument maintains that Arrow's Theorem and similar impossibility results imply that the General Will is both dangerous and “intellectually absurd.” While not denying the relevance of the collective choice literature, it is argued that such apocalyptic conclusions are premature.

The study of national communal feeling is often limited by the reluctance many theorists have to consider the manifest, affective meaning which so many discover and embrace through their nations. The writings of Johann Gottfried Herder suggest a way to theorize about that affectivity without treating it as either incidental to the real nature of national communities, or as a threat to the individuals who inhabit them. Herder's approach is based on language, and involves a metaphysical assumption about the aesthetic operation of human thought and collective belonging. Herder's linking of the history and nature of nation-building with a vision of linguistic revelation through one's Volk presents a fairly original take on the question of nationality, one which approaches communal affections with a moral (and ultimately theological) seriousness, but is also flexible enough to recognize (and even anticipate) contemporary critiques of metaphysics which have complicated our traditional assumptions about national identity.

Alexander Hamilton and James Madison agreed in the Federalist that the Constitution authorizes both political and judicial processes to define and safeguard the boundaries of federalism, but disagreed on public opinion's role in a republic and how to cultivate public sentiment for the Constitution. Hamilton preferred resolving intergovernmental disputes via political and public processes because public endorsement would legitimize broad national powers. Madison favored building public sentiment for the Constitution through strict limits on the national government enforced in part by the judiciary. He thought resolving intergovernmental disputes via public processes would confirm widespread suspicions of imperium in imperio and might provoke a popular backlash that would upset the constitutional equilibrium and undermine even legitimate national powers. This difference foreshadows Hamilton and Madison's later constitutional disagreements, reveals fundamental ambiguities in America's federal system, and confirms the need to consider how institutions and policies affect public sentiment for the constitutional order.

The moral theory of “mixed modes” John Locke presents in his Essay concerning Human Understanding is beset with paradoxes. On the one hand, he tells us that all mixed modes, including moral concepts, are “arbitrary” mental constructs. On the other hand, he speaks of an “eternal law” of right and wrong, and is well known as a champion of objective, universally valid natural law. This paradox stems from problems created by the new natural science. That science is predicated on the demolition of Aristotelian Scholasticism. Locke participates in that demolition on behalf of science, but it leaves him with limited options in building his own moral theory. Samuel Pufendorf responded to this situation by devising a theory of “moral modes,” and Locke follows Pufendorf's model. The essay concludes by noting some similarities and differences with the moral metaphysics of Immanuel Kant.

Modern politics is at times a balancing act between universal claims about the human (equal rights, dignity, and respect) and political actions which may seem to violate these claims (torture, just wars, repudiation of certain cultural practices, tacit discrimination). An exploration of some of the philosophical roots of the modern understanding of the person, when it was the subject of debate, provides a perspective at the origin of Modernity from which to evaluate the tenuous relationship between moral universalism and alterity at the heart of this tension. The debates at Valladolid in 1550–51 between Las Casas and Sepúlveda, arguing their conceptions of the human, can shed light on how and why arguments for inequality creep back into the modern discourse on alterity. The lessons from Valladolid, therefore, might help to limit or clarify recourse to such arguments.

One of the enduring problems in democratic theory is its inability to specify who should belong to the demos. In recent years, several scholars have been arguing that democratic theory should try to overcome this “boundary problem” through different kinds of global reform. I argue, however, that the boundary problem is an analytical distraction in thinking about global reform. I begin with general doubts as to whether the boundary problem can ground global reform. I then join the developing conversation on Arash Abizadeh's and Robert Goodin's boundary problem arguments. I offer new reasons for why both arguments encounter fundamental difficulties. I conclude by anticipating the concern that my argument does not take the need for global reform seriously enough.

Among the foreign policies of the new states which have emerged from the Western colonial empires, that of India occupies a leading place. The first non-Western nation to become a member of the British Commonwealth, India became a symbol and catalyst of self-determination for several nationalist movements. India proceeded on an “independent” path in world politics and had numerous emulators in the world. Where India's role in the state-making revolution has met with considerable approval, its strategy of nonalignment has been debated in the West, and even in India since the open appearance in 1959 of the Sino-Indian dispute. The criticism has included questions about the wisdom of nonalignment, doubts as to its feasibility, and charges that its application has shown preference for the communist states during periods of the Cold War. The Indian defense includes assertions that nonalignment serves India's welfare and often the world's, answers about its workability, and claims that application has been consistent with professed ideals.

The title of this lecture is not entirely of my own choosing. I do not like very much the term political theory; I would prefer to speak of political philosophy. Since this terminological question is not entirely verbal, I beg leave to say a few words about it.

Sungmoon Kim's pragmatic Confucian democracy tries to provide a mediating position between the instrumental model and the intrinsic model of democracy. However, this model of Confucian democracy is problematic because it fails to justify the unique role Confucianism plays in accommodating democracy when it is one among many comprehensive doctrines in East Asia. To be truly pragmatic about democracy is to hold a pluralistic attitude toward how people will come to terms with it. This article aims to push the pragmatic tendency further and propose an alternative model of democracy that has a multivariate structure, a neutral state, and an active public role for Confucianism. This multivariate model represents a more promising future for democracy in East Asia.

Political jurist, philosopher, and publicist, Christian Thomasius (1655–1728), in seeking to set apart the ordering principle of political society from that of the religious community, in effect put forth two distinct ethics of mutuality, an “intrinsic” ethic of inherent purpose and an “extrinsic” ethic of instrumentality, the former characterized by disinterested love, in need of no further justification, the latter characterized by prudential reciprocity, in demand of a rational grounding. Unity in the former is viewed as consensual and necessary, whereas it is seen as plural and contingent in the latter, thus designating politics as the domain of instrumentality, plurality, and contingency. Similarly, citizenship is sharply contrasted with the idea of fraternity. Its defining quality is identified with decorum, which, though it entails elements of moral and legal accountability, is held to be neither strictly moral nor strictly legal. Its effective operation is, however, posited on the possibility of an unfalsified consciousness. In exploring the category of decorum as an ethic of mutuality, reference is made to contemporary discussions on liberal and communitarian theory and on the conditions of rational debate in politics.

Gandhi (1869–1948) is known primarily as the leader who led the national movement for the freedom of India from British rule; he also has an important place in social theory. “The only nonofficial figure,” says Louis Fischer, “comparable to Gandhi in his effect on man's mind is Karl Marx.” His Collected Works, including his speeches, writings, and letters, have appeared in thirty volumes with some forty more scheduled for publication. The more important of his writings from the point of view of social theory are found in two weekly journals which he edited, Young India (1919–32) and Harijan (1933–48); his social and political ideas can also be gleaned from Hind Swaraj (1908) or Indian Home Rule, The Story of My Experiments With Truth (2 vols. 1927, 1929), Delhi Diary (1948), and Satyagraha in South Africa (1950).

Political Liberalism was motivated by Rawls's belief that A Theory of Justice inadequately treated the problem of stability. Theory of Justice grounded justice in a comprehensive doctrine, ethical liberalism. In a society wherein citizens hold a variety of reasonable comprehensive doctrines, such a theory of justice is unstable. Political Liberalism seeks a free-standing political theory compatible with many reasonable comprehensive doctrines.

Reasonableness involves reciprocity which in turn requires the acceptance of the burdens of judgment. We cannot respect other citizens if we regard them or their comprehensive doctrines as pernicious or stupid. While we may continue to accept our own comprehensive doctrine, reciprocity and tolerance require that we recognize that other doctrines and those who hold them are reasonable.

Callan claims that Rawls's project fails. Ethical liberalism views autonomy as essential to a good life. However, if the burdens of judgment are a prerequisite for reciprocity, political liberalism must also value autonomy, if not as an essential part of a good life, then as a public good. Any view of political socialization robust enough to secure a recognition of the burdens of judgment must also produce habits of mind tantamount to autonomy. If so, political liberalism collapses into ethical liberalism. Their implications for political socialization are indistinguishable. Many comprehensive doctrines, paradigmatically religious ones, will be weakened by these requirements for political socialization.

Callan's argument points to a tension in liberal views of education. A liberalism that promotes a thick liberal culture will appear intolerant to many with religious commitments.

Are we justified when we care more about “our own kind” than about all others? Some scholars have tried to provide an answer based on what they consider human nature. Others—on self-interest. The author examines the implications of the constitutive roles community has in our life for this question, as well as the differences it makes when considering what kind of human flourishing we deem of value.

If three children go hungry in a community, the members of this community are more distressed than if thousands starve in some far away country. Moreover, people not only care more about members of their own communities, but maintain that they are justified in doing so, that one has a higher level of obligation to one's “own kind” than to all others. Are such particularistic obligations justified, and on what grounds?

This question has been the subject of an immense amount of deliberation, which is not reviewed here. This exploration is limited to an examination of communitarian justifications for particularistic obligations, and only to those in a societal rather than political context. That is, if concerns the obligations of members of communities, not those of citizens of states.