What is the proper relation of religious moralities—and of moralities generally— to politics, especially to the politics of a society as religiously and morally pluralistic as our own. May a person rely on her religious-moral beliefs in making political choices? In deliberating about political choices with persons who do not share — who may even reject — her religious-moral beliefs? In defending her political choices to such persons? In this article, which is mainly critical rather than constructive, I indicate some basic respects in which the principal contemporary liberal responses to the question of the proper relation of morality to politics are deeply problematic.1 Elsewhere in the work of which this article is a part, my effort is mainly constructive: I elaborate and defend a postliberal conception of the proper relation of moral beliefs, especially religious-moral beliefs, to the politics of a pluralistic society like our own; in particular, I elaborate and defend a conception of the proper relation of religious communities to the religiously and morally pluralistic political community of which they are a part.2

Constitutional transplantation, the process by which the constitutional practice of one society becomes an important source for the legal development of another, has figured importantly in the institutional evolution of new politics. In this article, I examine the constitutional experience of Israel and the United States, two societies that share a language of jurisprudential discourse while differing significantly in a number of polically relevant ways. In particular, the fact that both societies can be described as pluralistic only conceals the fact that they represent alternative models of pluralism that may render problematic the the transferablity of constitutional outcomes from one place to another. Thus, the literature of modern constitutionalism, which has tended to emphasize the rights-based liberal ethic of individualism, is arguably more compatible with an American model in which the principles of the “procedural republic” are more unproblematically embraced. To pursue this question, I look at two issues—the advisability of adopting a bill of rights and the appropriate stance of the regime on the question of free speech—that allow us to reflect upon the limits and possibilities of constitutional transplantation.

In the Second Treatise, John Locke presents two stories about the development of political society: (1) the dramatic story of the state of nature and social contract; and (2) a more gradualist account of the evolution of political society “by an insensible change” out of the family group. The relation between these two accounts is analyzed in order to deal with familiar objections about the historical truth and internal consistency of contract theory. It is argued that Locke regarded story (2) as the historically accurate one, but that he believed historical events needed moral interpretation. Story (1) represents a moral framework or template to be used as a basis for understanding the implications — for political obligation and political legitimacy — of story (2). Even if the whole course of the evolution of political institutions out of prepolitical society cannot be seen as a single intentional or consensual process, still individual steps in that process can be analyzed and evaluated in contractualist terms. The task of political judgment is to infer the rights and obligations of politics from this representation of political development as an overlapping series of consensual events.

Modern principles of morality are inadequate for solving the structural problems faced by contemporary societies. Early in the modern epoch the normative, social concept of nature that had supported Greek, Roman, and medieval ethical theories, became transformed into a purely empirical, private one. Thus for Hobbes, Locke, and most eighteenth-century political theorists, the “state of nature” referred to the opposite of a social state, ruled by lawful custom, it had meant before. The idea of “natural right” which gradually emerged as a substitute principle was denned in individualist terms. With the notion of “general will” Rousseau attempted to establish a more genuinely social basis for the State.

The claim made by antifoundationalist thinkers such as Nietzsche, Heidegger, and more recently Richard Rorty is that the search for a standard or foundation for our moral and political judgments inevitably arrives at a distorting reductivism. This radical claim, if true, makes dubious the very possibility of political philosophy understood as the rational investigation of human affairs. A response to this claim which merely adduces the potentially harmful consequences of such a view is inadequate; our manifest need for such a standard in no way guarantees the existence of such a standard. An adequate response requires that we meet the premise of the antifoundationalist view. That premise resides in a certain understanding of Platonic thought, an understanding which I here undertake to show is mistaken.

This essay questions whether it is as appropriate as it is common to speak of the federal judiciary as legitimately engaged in “statesmanship”— however that rather slippery concept may be denned or elucidated. Scholars of both the “interpretivist” and “noninterpretivist” schools in constitutional law appear to subscribe to the expectation that judges should be statesmen. Some point to Tocqueville for support of this notion. The argument here is that Tbcqueville is unreliable on this point, for he parts company not only with his contemporary, Joseph Story, but with the framers of the Constitution. The Federalist is examined for its thoughts on the meaning and location of statesmanship in the constitutional order, and it is argued that the essays on the judiciary reveal a conspicuous absence of any expectation that that branch should contain statesmen. Indeed, Publius advances an argument that Congress should act to restrain (through the threat of impeachment) judicial temptations to engage in any adventures that can be called statesmanship.

Thucydides is famous for the speeches in his work, so rich in arresting generalities. Yet his handling of these speeches has been often questioned and seldom understood. This article illuminates his procedures by considering them within the context, too often ignored, of Thucydides' equally famous “Archaeology,” or account of ancient times, which expresses his criticism of previous writers. It attempts to vindicate his own methods, and in particular his own contribution to the speeches that he presents in the mouths of his characters, with reference to the political character of the speeches as originally delivered as well as of Thucydides' purpose in reproducing them.

The current historiographical debate over the relation of John Locke's philosophy to the republican political tradition has ignored the medical orientation which Locke brought to his political writings. Recognizing that Locke wrote within a medical paradigm, which he derived from Calvinist religious thought, permits us to see that Locke was working within a variation of republicanism and not in opposition to it. Locke attempted to “cure” political corruption, much as Puritans had tried to cure their society of sin's corruption. The failure of Locke's therapeutic approach to political virtue has provided the basis for recent criticisms of liberalism and a challenge to the convention that Locke was an original and central figure in creating Anglo-American political culture.

Liberals and communitarians differ most basically on the justification of values, a disagreement that leads to alternative approaches to social criticism. Liberals insist on cosmopolitan justification, which has universalistic criteria, while communitarians are committed to local justification based on the shared values of particular societies. Although communitarians correctly believe that justification cannot be foundationalist, the universalism of cosmopolitan justification is essential to the defense of values like freedom that are supported by both communitarians and liberals. Moreover, cosmopolitan justification is possible when understood in contextual terms. An exploration of the political implications of the human capacities of rationality and moral agency can derive universal principles as criteria for social criticism.

An important feature of Rawls's theory of justice is the putative separation of justice and desert. It is shown that Rawls in fact presupposes a quite strong theory of desert which provides the key justification for the original position. It is further argued that the theory of desert has implications for distributive shares which contradict those of Rawlsian justice in general and the difference principle in particular. Finally, it is claimed that this contradiction seems to resist any kind of easy resolution since the theory of justice rests upon, hence requires, the theory of desert.

This article investigates an oft-alleged kinship between the political thought of Machiavelli and Thucydides concerning “virtue.” In the background is the current debate over whether or not Machiavelli initiates “modern” thought with (among other things) a radically new teaching on “virtue.” Machiavellian virtù is reprised; Thucydidean attributions of aretē, catalogued; observations proffered. Then Thucydides' assessment of the career of Nicias is discussed; this, to support the contention that when read in their proper contexts, contexts carefully crafted by Thucydides, Thucydidean attributions of aretē do not support the apparent kinship between Thucydides and Machiavelli: Thucydides is not a “Machiavellian.”

The article is a comparative study of Hegel and Marx on the nature and function of the political state and it argues that Marx's critique of Hegel on this topic is aimed not at the “idealism” of the state, which concerns the principle of universal freedom, but rather at the “material” presuppositions of the state. Indeed, Marx's critique of political institutions is premised upon the way in which they are infected with the egoism and self-seeking of civil (bürgerliche) society. The relationship between the views of Hegel and Marx on these points is explored by (1) giving an exegesis of Hegel's conception of civil society as a foundation for freedom, (2) examining Marx's critique of Hegel's theory of the state, (3) distinguishing the Hegelian and Marxian philosophical conceptions of freedom, the individual, and community, and (4) evaluating the fairness and cogency of Marx's critique of Hegel.

The treatment of the natural law in the Roman law is puzzling because the relationship between jus naturale and the two other forms of law, jus gentium and jus civile, is far from clear in the texts. Moreover, the jus naturale does not appear to have the dignity most readers expect it to have. This article attempts to sort out the relationships among the three types of jus by showing that the various classifications the jurists use are based on their perceptions of the complexities of nature as a source of right and on the attempt to work out a political embodiment of natural right.

As our Bicentennial celebration of our Constitution approaches its conclusion, one is struck with what can only be called wonder by the extent of the diversity among the celebrants. There seems to be at least general agreement that we are celebrating the Constitution because it establishes by a variety of means limited government. However, in this essay I show that there is vast disagreement on the precise meaning or fundamental mark of limited government. I identify the various definitions and defenses of limited government that can be derived from our Constitution and proceed to unveil their contradictory assumptions and implications. I then proceed to present our original and fundamental definition and defense of limited government as proposed by Publius in the Federalist Papers and to explore two questions: first, whether that definition is compatible with the other limiting features of the Constitution; and, second, whether that definition can render those diverse limiting features mutually coherent.

Canada and India have hybrid systems of government. Both experienced constitutional crises in the 1970's. These crises have usually been treated as sui generis. It is the hypothesis of this article that the crises raise fundamental questions regarding the very nature of such systems, which are based on “parliamentary federalism,” a political system invented in Canada to provide strong central government. This hybrid system combines two classical models: British tradition, based on parliamentary supremacy and conventions, and American principles, which require a written constitution, the separation of powers and judicial review. The two models are contradictory, since parliamentary supremacy and constitutional supremacy are incompatible.

This study deals with the experiences of the Greens (Die Griinen) during the 1980's as a “new” party in West German state and federal parliaments and specifically with the Green parliamentary groups' relationships with the movement-party. The founders of the Greens sought to organize as a decentralized, participatory democracy. Accordingly, they developed rules to hinder the emergence of a professionalized leadership and to restrict the autonomy of parliamentary groups. Utilizing a comparative approach, the author investigates the extent to which the Greens have become “parliamentarized” by the normalizing forces of the established system at state and federal levels. This study relates the Greens' developmental experiences to the “classic” observations of Duverger, Michels, and others about modern party development. Finally, it reviews the recent perspectives of various intraparty groups about the future of the Greens.

From earliest apostolic and patristic times, Christian writers have generally been suspicious of the common human desire to improve one's economic status. In Britain, however, by the end of the seventeenth century, this suspicion had all but vanished as most Christians began to accommodate themselves to the exigencies of an increasingly dynamic commercial society. This article takes up the early eighteenth-century controversy over the compatibility of traditional Christian moral virtues with the demands of economic and material progress as reflected in the writings of the two most important antagonists in the controversy, Bernard Mandeville and William Law. Although both Mandeville and Law spoke the language of Christian rigorism and perfectionism, and proclaimed attachment to the full austerity of the Christian Gospels, Mandeville, it is explained, was really a hedonist in disguise who feigned attachment to traditional Christian and Stoic ascetic principles merely to be able to discredit those principles. Law, it is explained, was a man of uncommon piety and devoutness who was shocked by the increasing secularism and materialism of his age, and who sought to recall his contemporaries to a life of true Christian holiness. The article concludes with an evaluation of the relative merits of the positions of each of the two thinkers.

The “fall” of Lucrezia in Machiavelli's play La Mandragola is a puzzlement. She is presented as an intelligent and virtuous wife who by play's end not only agrees to commit adultery but murder as well. Any attempt to interpret the play must address the significance of Lucrezia and her fall. It is argued here, however, that the real deception is that Lucrezia does not undergo a conversion—she is of questionable character from the start. Upon examination, her similarity with the Goddess Fortuna reveals a deeper tale being told within the play. Machiavelh uses her to mock the Church, and St. Augustine in particular, and to deliver a frightening message that the free will is no match for the goddess.

This article explores an attitude which I call perfect constitutionalism. Perfect constitutionalists believe that, properly interpreted, the Constitution requires that our society conform to the best principles of human governance. This belief that the Constitution is nearly flawless not only underlies the so-called fundamental values strand of constitutional thought but also those strands of constitutional argument based on conceptions of the democratic process or the original intentions of the framers. Unfortunately, empirical and theoretical problems result when constitutional theory is reduced to political philosophy. In order to overcome these problems we need to essay a different interpretive approach, one which I call imperfect constitutionalism. Imperfect constitutionalism emphasizes the value of constitutions, even ones that might be improved in many ways.

Raphael Hythlodaeus, the philosopher of Thomas More's Utopia, is generally considered to be an uncompromising and inflexible political idealist. However, Raphael may be more subde and complex than he is usually thought to be. Raphael may be capable of practical, prudent political advice, and may even desire to give such advice in some way, as long as his active participation in politics is not required. If this is true, then his real fault or blindness could be his lack of awareness of how vulnerable he is to the accusation that he is avoiding his public duty and not political idealism.