The Sophists are relativists, egalitarians, pragmatists, atheists, but for the most part, at any rate towards the end of the fifth century, they are not individualists. They want to alter society, not concentrate attention upon the individual and his character and needs. They differ about what kind of society is the most rational. They wish to eliminate mere traditional survivals. They criticise institutions for which they see no good reason, but not institutional life as such. Some appear to be democrats, some are not. It is one of the great paradoxes of history that the democracy that is Athens' greatest political glory was defended by so few that almost every writer who has survived is in some degree an enemy or a critic of it. The ideal is isonomia, equality before the laws - 'the most beautiful of all names', as Herodotus makes Otanes call it[120] - or eunomia, good order, a conservative slogan. Equality is defended against tyranny and arbitrary rule. Aristotle thinks that a State is satisfactory in which men rule and are ruled in turn/ while the cynical Antiphon wonders whether any man would not prefer to rule unjustly rather than be ruled justly by others.
There is no trace here of genuine individualism, the doctrine that there are personal values - pleasure, or knowledge, or friendship, or virtue, or self-expression in art or life - to which political and social arrangements should be subordinated: for which they create a pedestal, a means however indispensable, but still only a means. The assumption is, on the contrary, that all these values can be realised only within and as part of the life of the Greek polis. To ignore social arrangements, to profit by them, is not a normal frame of mind. Even Thrasymachus, who thinks that justice is the interest of the stronger, does not imply that life outside the intimate association of masters and slaves is conceivable. Callicles in Plato's Gorgias speaks for the bold, unscrupulous, self-seeking, gifted egoist who sweeps aside the institutions of the city like cobwebs and tramples on them and does as he likes - that is, might is right: nature demands despotism, not individualism. Lactantius is right in thinking Socrates does not win the argument against Thrasymachus and his like; the common opinion which he mar- shalls against him is not enough against violent individualism of this type. But Plato evidently thought that he had refuted the claims of these egomaniacs, with their distorted view of the facts, which would cost them dear in the end.
At this point it may be asked whether I have forgotten the greatest of all professions of political faith, the funeral speech of Pericles as reported by Thucydides, incomparably the greatest statement of its kind in the whole of our history. Certainly, Pericles says, Athens differs from Sparta in that 'we live as free citizens, both in our public life and in our attitude to one another in the affairs of daily life; we are not angry with our neighbour if he behaves as he pleases, we do not cast sour looks at him, which if they can do no harm nevertheless can cause pain'.[121] There is a similar remark, less nobly expressed, in the speech of Nikias to the dispirited, defeated Athenian troops in Sicily in 416 bc.[122] Euripides also speaks up for freedom of speech/ and Demosthenes says: 'In Sparta you are not allowed to praise the laws of Athens, or of this State or that; far from it, you have to praise what agrees with their constitution';[123] whereas in Athens free criticism of constitutions is evidently permitted.
What does this come to? Pericles says that some States are more liberal than others: not, as he has all too often been interpreted, that in Athens individuals have rights, natural or State-conferred, to speak as they please or act as they please within certain limits, with which the State has no right to interfere. This is the view advanced by Gomme, but he seems to be mistaken. No doubt the individual did 'have ample freedom in private life'/ no doubt there were protests from the conservatives, such as Aristotle's disapproval of men 'who live as they please' - as Euripides says, 'each according to his fancy" - or Plato's disgust with the city that has so much variety, so many foreigners, women and slaves who get above themselves and presume to behave almost like citizens. The pseudo-Xenophontic Constitution of Athens launches a diatribe against resident foreigners and slaves. Isocrates complains that there is not enough moral control over private lives, that the Areopagus should reassert its ancient authority in these matters. All this implies that life in Athens was a good deal freer, that there was more variety, perhaps more chaos than in totalitarian Sparta or perhaps other more tightly organised, more militarised States. But what Pericles is saying, in effect, is what any headmaster proud of the spirit of his school, any commander proud of the spirit of his army, might well say: We do not need compulsion. What other States have to force their citizens to do, ours perform because they are truly devoted to their city, because they are spontaneously loyal, because their lives are bound up with their city, in which they all have faith and pride.
It is a far cry from this to the assertion of the rights of the individual. Schoolboys, however lightly ruled, have no rights against the masters. The school may take pride in the fact that it does not need to threaten or bully, punish or intimidate, but it is the collective spirit of the school, the solidarity of its members, that is being praised: the Athenian State was the object of its own worship and upon its altar men were, if Pericles is to be believed, ready to sacrifice themselves. But to sacrifice oneself freely is still to sacrifice oneself, uncoerced surrender is still surrender; and vice and error are still defined in terms of each man pulling in his own direction, satisfying his own individual nature. Thucydides likes Pericles and does not like Cleon. Demosthenes believes in political freedom, freedom from rule by other States - say, Macedon - and so does Pericles, and all the great Athenians. Some believe in a loose texture, some in a tight one, but there is no note of individualism here, of the value of the State consisting in what it contributes to the individual satisfactions of its individual members. They are to lay down their lives for it; it has no duties, only claims; they have no claims against it, only duties. But in a well- organised, harmonious State, such as Pericles tries to represent Athens as being, claims are not pressed; they are satisfied spontaneously, and no one scowls at his neighbour for being different from himself. Variety versus uniformity, spontaneity versus coercion, loyalty versus tyranny, love instead of fear: these are the Periclean ideals. However attractive they may be found, they are not identical either with individualism or (a much later stage of human development) with the notion of the right of the individual against encroachment by the State - the staking out of a claim to the sacrosanct area within which he literally can do as he pleases, however foolish, eccentric, outrageous his conduct.
That is the testimony of the major authors. There are some dissident voices; they are few and far between, and I shall have occasion to mention them later. Aristotle may have been an old- fashioned conservative towards the end of his life, but it is his view of the nature of society - the harmonious social whole, pursuing goals implanted in it by nature herself, to which every element must be subordinated, so that ethics and politics are wholly social and educational, as explained in his treatises on what the relationships are between the natural purposes of the various constituents of society, and how they may be made to perform their functions, their natural functions, as effectively and richly as possible - it is that vision that has bound its spell on the ancient world, the middle ages, and on a good many modern societies since his day.
At this point there is a most surprising development. Aristotle died in 322 bc. Some sixteen years or so later, Epicurus began to teach in Athens, and after him Zeno, a Phoenician from Kition in Cyprus. Within a few years theirs are the dominant philosophical schools in Athens. It is as if political philosophy had suddenly vanished away. There is nothing about the city, the education of citizens to perform their tasks within it, bad and good constitutions - nothing at all about this.1 Nothing about the need for hierarchies or their dangers; nothing about the value of small organised communities, of extrovert social life as the mark and criterion of human nature; nothing about how to train specialists in governing men, or about the organisation of life so that unequal gifts are appropriately rewarded, with the explanation that different constitutions place different emphasis on different types of gift and character. Personal ethics are no longer deduced from social morality, ethics are no longer a branch of politics, the whole no longer precedes the parts, the notion of fulfilment as necessarily social and public disappears without a trace. Within twenty years or less we find, in place of hierarchy, equality; in place of emphasis on the superiority of specialists, the doctrine that any man can
' It is possible that Berlin might have wished to qualify this to some degree to take account of Zeno's Republic, a response (of which only fragments survive) to Plato's work of the same title. See Malcolm Schofield, The Stoic Idea of the City (Cambridge etc., 1991). Ed.
discover the truth for himself and live the good life as well as any other man, at least in principle; in place of emphasis on intellectual gifts, ability, skill, there is now stress upon the will, moral qualities, character; in place of loyalty, which holds small groups together, groups moulded by tradition and memories, and the organic fitting-in of all their parts and functions, there is a world without national or city frontiers; in place of the outer life, the inner life; in place of political commitment, taken for granted by all the major thinkers of the previous age, sermons recommending total detachment. In place of the pursuit of grandeur, glory, immortal fame, nobility, public spirit, self-realisation in harmonious social action, gentlemanly ideals, we now have a notion of individual self- sufficiency, praise of austerity, a puritanical emphasis on duty, above all constant stress on the fact that the highest of all values is peace of soul, individual salvation, obtained not by knowledge of an accumulating kind, not by the gradual increase of scientific information (as Aristotle taught), nor by the use of sensible judgement in practical affairs, but by sudden conversion - a shining of the inner light. Men are distinguished into the converted and the unconverted. There are to be no intermediate types - they are either saved or not saved, either wise or stupid. One either knows how to save one's soul or one does not. One can be drowned as easily in a foot of water as in many fathoms, said the Stoics. One is either in Canopus or outside it: to be an inch outside and many miles outside are equally not to be in Canopus - all or nothing. It is something like the sudden puritanism following the Elizabethan Age.
For the older of the two teachers, Epicurus, the State hardly exists. The problem is how to avoid being hurt, how to escape misery. Reality - nature - is governed by iron laws which men cannot possibly alter. You cannot destroy or avoid nature, but you can avoid colliding with it unnecessarily. What makes men unhappy? Fear of the gods, superstition, fear of death, fear of pain - whence all the elaborate ritual, propitiation, obedience to the infernal powers that is called religion. But what if the gods, even if they do exist, take no interest in men, but live blissfully in their own remote world, unconcerned with affairs on earth? If fear of the gods goes, the burden is much lightened. As for pain, skilful management will diminish that too, both for me and for my neighbours. If the pain is intolerably intense it will not last long and death will release me; if it lasts it cannot be intense, and by living carefully, following the prescriptions of nature, one can avoid pain and disease. What remains of life? Happiness, peace, inner harmony. How may it be obtained? Not by seeking wealth, power, recognition, for these expose you to competition and all the sweat and toil of the arena. Public life brings more pains than pleasures; its rewards are not worth having, for they merely multiply your anxieties. Avoid situations in which you become liable to pain. All men are vulnerable: they must contract the vulnerable surface that may be wounded by other men or by things and events. This must be done by avoiding all forms of commitment. Epicurus preaches passionately, as a man who wishes to suppress all passions as sources of pain and trouble, against what today is called an engage attitude to politics. Lathe biosas:[ get through life as obscurely as you can. Seek to avoid notice and you will not be hurt. Public life holds out rewards that are only a painful delusion. Be like an actor.2 Play the part that has been set up for you, but do not identify yourself with it. Above all, no enthusiasm, pas trop de zele. Pay taxes, vote, obey orders, but withdraw into yourself. 'Man is not by nature adapted for living in civic communities.'3 'Confront every desire with the question: What do I gain by gratifying it, and what shall I lose by crushing it ? '4
Should one be just? Yes, because if you cheat - break rules - you may be discovered, and others may, because they are not dispassionate sages like you, punish you or at least hate you; and if you are haunted by the fear of being exposed, this will ruin your pleasures. There is no value in justice as such; justice is only a means of avoiding too much friction with others, of getting along. The reason for it is utility: all society is founded upon a social contract whereby arrangements are made which make it possible for human beings not to get in each other's way too much.
And knowledge? Is that desirable? Certainly, for only in this way will you know what to do and what to avoid if you are to attain to peace and contentment. 'Vain is the word of the philosopher which heals not the suffering of man.'5 This might well be the motto of the Rockefeller Foundation today. Knowledge is not an end in itself; nothing is an end in itself except individual happiness, and this is to be obtained by reliable goods - the love of friends, which is a positive source of pleasure, the joys of private life.
Should wealth be sought? Not as such, for that leads to fears, conflicts, but if it comes your way it is unreasonable to reject it. The wise man should be able to do with bread and water, but if luxuries come his way, why should he not accept them too? Public life is a snare and a delusion, and you should participate in it only if you need to - to avoid pain - or if you happen to have a restless temperament, or enjoy it: that is, if it offers some kind of opiate to you which other things do not. You cannot obtain all that you want: to want and not to get is to be a slave to desires, to be tossed about by forces stronger than yourself. Since you cannot get what you want, you must try to want only what you can get - you cannot manipulate the universe, but you can manipulate your own psychological states, within limits. Try not to want something that may easily be taken away from you. 'There is but one way to freedom: to despise what is not in our power." What you cannot get is not worth striving for.
There are two ways of being happy - by satisfying desires and by eliminating them. The first can be achieved only on a modest scale, since we are neither omniscient nor omnipotent, and facts are as they are and cannot be changed much; the second way is the only way to peace and independence. Independence is everything: the two great Epicurean words are autarkeia and ataraxia - self- sufficiency and imperturbability. And social life? And the glory of the city? And great dangers bravely faced? And Alexander in his plumed helmet mowing down the slaves of the King of Persia? These are not roads to permanent happiness. They merely excite the desires and make you seek for more and more, and enslave you more and more hopelessly to vast unfulfillable ambitions, and expose you to hopes and fears which do not let you rest. The greatest achievement of a man is to teach himself not to mind. That is the lesson to be drawn from the life of Socrates, not social arrangements or the value of mathematics as a path to metaphysical truth. You have not long to live and might as well arrange yourself as comfortably as possible in your own corner of the world. If you
' Encheiridion 19. 2.
do not interfere with others, or envy or hate them, or seek to alter their lives against their wishes, or try for power, you will get by.
This combination of belief in rationalism, which liberates one from fanaticism and anxiety, and belief in utilitarianism and personal relationships as the supreme good in life is a doctrine familiar whenever the stresses of life become too much for distinguished and sensitive persons. It is a form of retreat in depth, retreat into the inner citadel of the inviolable individual soul, so protected by fortitude and reason that nothing can upset it, or wound it, or throw it off its balance. Godwin believed something of the kind and imparted it to Shelley, in whose Platonism it plays a part. In our own day it constituted the morality of a good many English and, perhaps, some French and American intellectuals before and after 1914 - rationalist, anti-clerical, pacifist, contemptuous of the pursuit of reputation or wealth - who believed above all in personal relationships and aesthetic enjoyment, friendship and the production and enjoyment of beauty, and the pursuit of the unvarnished truth as alone worthy of human beings. Virginia Woolf, Roger Fry, the philosopher G. E. Moore, in his earlier years Maynard Keynes believed something of this kind. When E. M. Forster declared shortly before the last war, 'if I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country',[124] this was a militant expression of the Epicurean creed - a total reversal of previous Greek beliefs. 'A study of the laws of nature creates men of haughty independence of mind [sobroi and autarkeis] who pride themselves on the goods proper to man [idioi agathoi], not to circumstances.'[125] Public life is part of circumstances, not of the individual. The State is an instrument and not an end. Personal salvation is all that matters. The doctrine is one of liberation through self-sufficiency. This is indeed a transvaluation of values.
The Stoics were, of course, more influential than the Epicureans. Zeno, who established himself in Athens at the turn of the fourth century, was a foreigner, a Phoenician from Cyprus who taught that wisdom consisted of inner freedom, which could be obtained only by eliminating the passions from one's constitution. The world was a rational pattern and order, and since man by nature was a rational creature, to understand this order was to recognise its beauty and its necessity - the laws of reason were graven in deathless letters upon our deathless reason.[126] If only you could rid yourself of the influences that ruined you - errors about the world, induced by stupidity or ignorance or a bad and corrupt condition - you would become invulnerable to that which made other men vicious and unhappy. To understand the world truly is to understand that everything in it is necessary, and what you call evil is an indispensable element in a larger harmony. To achieve this understanding is to cease to feel the common desires, fears, hopes of mankind, and dedicate yourself to a life led in accordance with reason or nature - which to Zeno are the same, for nature is the embodiment of the laws of universal reason. The Stoic sage observes that reason governs the world. If pain is part of the design, it must be embraced; your will must be adjusted to it. 'Do your worst, pain,' exclaimed the Stoic Posidonius when racked by mortal disease; 'no matter what you do, you cannot make me hate you.'2
Since any man can grasp the rational necessity of whatever occurs, there is no need to achieve harmony, stability, peace of mind for that minimum of material health and wealth that Aristotle admitted to be necessary for happiness. King Priam, however brave and good, could not achieve happiness, according to Aristotle, because his misfortunes were too great; according to the Stoics, he could. The only thing that is real is the basic reason that goes through nature and men. Why collect details of 257 constitutions in order to find out what suits what kinds of men, where, in what climates, with what traditions - when all men are fundamentally the same, and we can discover a priori, by training the reason within us to grasp the eternal laws of the world, what we must do to be at harmony with ourselves and the external world, rather than learn this by the uncertain inductive path chosen by the Peripatetics? How do we know what is certain? Because sometimes something 'almost takes hold of us by the hair . . . and drags us to assent'.3 Some truths are incorrigible and irresistible. It is easier to be harmonious and at peace in some circumstances than in others: if gold had not been dug up or luxuries brought by ships from abroad, there would be more simplicity and peace, but even in the
' Stoicorum veterum fragmenta (hereafter SVF) iii 360.
' loc. cit. (p. 3 i above, note i) = Edelstein-Kidd T3 8.
' Sextus Empiricus, Adversus mathematicos 7 (Adversus lagicos i). 2 57.
sophisticated and corrupt Athens of the beginning of the third century, discipline over emotion can be obtained, and one can make oneself impervious to the evil will of men or the blows of fortune. The ship must be wholly sealed from leaking - allow the faintest crack through which feelings might seep and you are sunk.
The ideal is apathia - passionlessness. The Stoic sage is impassive, dry, detached, invulnerable; he alone is king, priest, master, god. Like the Pharisees to whom Josephus compares them, the Stoic sages were accused of coldness, hypocrisy, pride, disdain, pretentiousness. The movement had its martyrs: since misery resulted only from deviation from reason, from over-attachment to persons or things, if circumstances became too evil or the tyrant too brutal and menacing, you could always escape the consequences by freely taking your own life. The Stoics did not advocate suicide, but neither did they preach against it. A rational man dies when life according to reason becomes impossible, because his faculties have decayed too far or life can be bought at too irrational a price. Man is a dog tied to a cart; if he is wise he will run with it. (That is called following nature - being rational and wise. If he is unwise it will drag him and he will run with it willy- nilly.)
What are the political doctrines of the early Stoics? Only the wise can live in peace and concord. They can live in any city; it doesn't matter where, for being passionless they will feel no special attachment to any body of men. The ideal dwelling-place will have no temples to the gods, no statues of them, no law courts, no gymnasia, no armies or warships or money, for the wise do not need these things; if you live in the light of reason, the conflicts, the fears and hopes that lead to the erection of these institutions will melt away. Zeno advocates total sexual freedom: all children shall be children of all the inhabitants. In the proper human life, according to Zeno, 'We should not live by cities or demes, severally divided according to our own idea of what is just, but should consider that all men are demesmen and fellow citizens; there should be one life and one world, just as of a herd feeding together, nurtured by a common pasture." This is the world of good men; only they can enjoy love, friendship, inner and outer harmony.
This is what Zeno preached; and, Plutarch exclaimed enthusiastically, Alexander of Macedon achieved it. Tarn complains that, just as Aristotle divided men into those who are free and those who are slaves by nature, so Zeno divided them into the good and wicked, the saved and the sinners. But this is not just. Any man can be saved, but not any man can transform his Aristotelian, fixed nature from that of a slave to that of a free man. What is plain is that while Plato and Aristotle desired to organise, to create and preserve an order, Plato's communism is, principally, a means of breeding suitable citizens. Zeno wishes to abolish this; both Zeno and his disciples Cleanthes and Chrysippus advocated social freedom of the most extreme kind: sexual promiscuity, homosexuality, incest, the eating of human flesh, permission to do anything that is not forbidden by physis - nature - for all contrary rules and traditions and habits, when examined, will be found to be artificial and irrational. When you look into yourself, and only into yourself - for there is nowhere else to look (you should certainly not look at social institutions, which are a mere external, adventitious aid to living) - then you will find that some rules are graven upon your heart by nature herself, while others are mere human inventions, ephemeral and directed to irrational ends, nothing to the wise man.
Later Stoicism absorbed a much more Aristotelian doctrine into itself and adapted itself to the uses of the Roman Empire, abandoning its sharp anti-political tone and content - for in principle Stoicism is as anti-political as Epicureanism. True, Zeno impressed the Macedonian ruler of Athens, Antigonus Gonatas, as a teacher of civic virtue. He would not serve him himself, but supplied pupils who became court chaplains and personal advisers to Hellenistic kings, and sometimes generals and practical social reformers (as in Sparta). Nevertheless the king, for the Stoics, is not a divine creature as he is for the Pythagoreans and even for Aristotle; he is a human being, and since it is desirable that life should be as rational as possible, the Stoic sage can give him advice and influence him in the right direction, which, although not the most essential duty - which is to put oneself in the right frame of mind and nothing else - creates conditions in which men can more easily save themselves by Stoic introspection, self-examination of the tasks that reason lays upon them.
It is sometimes said that Zeno believed in a world State, but this is a misinterpretation of Plutarch's text: he has no interest in the State at all. In sharp contradiction to Plato and Aristotle, he believes that wisdom is to be learned and exercised not in the ideal polis, but in a world filled with wise men. Society is fundamentally a hindrance to self-sufficiency. It is evident that men cannot avoid society altogether, and must make the best of it, but so far from ethics being deducible from politics, the private from the public, the proper route is the other way about: to regulate public affairs in accordance with the rules of private morality. The virtuous or wise man must learn not to mind the storms of public life, to escape into himself, to ignore that which, being public, is ultimately of small importance. The distance between the Epicurean ataraxia - imperturbability - and the Stoic apathia - passionlessness - is not great. Pleasure or duty, happiness or rational self-realisation, these were the opposed ideals of the Hellenistic world. Whatever their differences, they were as one against the public world of Plato and Aristotle and the major Sophists. The break is immense and its consequences great. For the first time the idea gains ground that politics is a squalid occupation, not worthy of the wise and the good. The division of ethics and politics is made absolute; men are defined in individual terms, and politics, at best, becomes the application of certain ethical principles to human groups, instead of the other way around. Not public order, but personal salvation is all that matters. To sacrifice salvation to public needs is the greatest, most fatal error a man can commit; the betrayal of all that makes him human, of the reason within him, that which alone confers dignity and value upon men. There is no need to speak of the influence of this conception in Christianity, particularly in its Augustinian and quietist traditions.
It is very odd. How could so sharp a break occur within two decades? At one moment all the major thinkers appear to be discussing social and political questions; less than twenty years later no one at all is doing so. The Aristotelians are collecting plants, accumulating information about planets, animals and geographical formations; the Platonists are occupied with mathematics; no one speaks of social or political issues at all - it suddenly becomes a subject beneath the notice of serious men.
The official explanation which almost all historians adopt is, of course, the destruction of the city-state by Philip and Alexander of Macedon. The conventional view, adopted by almost all historians on the subject (there are some honorable exceptions), is that the writings of the major thinkers reflect political conditions directly and unambiguously. Sophocles, the Thucydidean Pericles, Aeschylus, Herodotus are spokesmen for Athens during the highest peak of her power and creative achievement. Plato, Isocrates, Thucyd- ides himself reflect the internal stress and strain of the beginning of decadence. Demosthenes is the last desperate stand of independent democracy. Then comes the battle of Chaeronea in 338 bc. The polis is destroyed by the Macedonian phalanx. Aristotle - like Hegel's owl of Minervai - speaks for the past, not the future, and is out of date by the time that he escapes from Athens in 323. The polis becomes insignificant. A great new world is opened by Alexander's armies, and the average Greek or Athenian (as the author chooses), deprived of the sense of intimacy and security provided by the walls of the small self-contained city, feels puny and insignificant in the vast new empire which stretches out to the East. There is no natural unit to which to give his loyalty, and in which he can huddle for security.
The bleak new atmosphere, with familiar landmarks gone, makes him feel frightened and solitary, and concerned with his own personal salvation. Public life decays. Public concerns seem irrelevant. Menander, the fellow citizen and contemporary of Epicurus, writes comedies about domestic personal issues. Naturalism succeeds the idealised painting and sculpture which represented common ideals of the entire polis - noble objects of social worship and admiration and emulation. Superstition fills the vacuum left by the disappearance of State religion. Men retreat into themselves. The social fabric disintegrates. All men are equal before the remote despot in Pella or Alexandria or Antioch. The organic community has been pulverised into dissociated atoms. Stoicism and Epicureanism are natural forms of faith for men in this condition.
What is unplausible about this account is that the catastrophic change - for it is nothing less - occurs too rapidly. Athens was of small account before Chaeronea, and did not cease to be a city- state in 3 3 7 bc. It was defeated, but it had been defeated by the Spartans before, and yet it led a sufficiently intense life as a city- state in the fourth century, as the speeches of the orators, if nothing else, convey. There was a Macedonian garrison in the Acropolis; it was expelled. True, it returned to subdue the rebellious city. Still,
' Mentioned at the end of Hegel's foreword to Grundlinien der Philowphie des Rechts: see Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Samtliche Werke, ed. Hermann Glockner (Stuttgart, 1927-51), vol. 7, p. 37.
civic feeling continued; men continued to vote, to elect to public office, to bear liturgies. The poleis were not dissolved by Alexander or his successors: on the contrary, new ones were created. The inscriptions do not show a slackening of public spirit. There was no real collapse until Romans appear on the scene. No doubt the cities did lose their independent character, especially in the field of foreign policy. It would, of course, be absurd to deny that Alexander had transformed the Mediterranean world. Yet however firmly you may believe that the ideological superstructure faithfully follows changes in the social or economic substructure - in this case, political organisation - there was certainly no break in the history of the polis so sharp, to judge from the subjective experiences of the citizens, as to explain so abrupt, swift and total a transformation of political outlook.
That Alexander's conquests were a pertinent factor in the development is, of course, true; but it is difficult to suppose that it is alone sufficient to explain what occurred. It is as if one were to say that Napoleon's conquest of Europe totally transformed social and political thought; it did not. It modified it deeply, but there is not that gap between the writings of, say, Hume and James Mill, or Kant and Hegel, which marks the break between Aristotle and Zeno. Men do not say to themselves: 'My old world is crumbling, I must turn my attention to other aspects of experience. The outer life has become dreary, frightening and flat - it is time to turn to the inner life.' (And if the unconscious is, at this point, called to our aid, it is only reasonable to say that it does not work quite so fast underground.) Men did not say this, especially in the ancient world, where changes seem to have taken less abrupt and catastrophic turns than in our own time. It is only reasonable to assume, therefore, that Stoic and Epicurean individualism did not spring quite so fully armed from the head of this now defeated and humiliated Athena. And, indeed, the new thinkers had some predecessors, occasionally mentioned by the ancient historians of philosophy. Zeno was a pupil of Crates, who was a Cynic, and he, in his turn, belonged to the school of Diogenes, who flourished, if that is the proper term for his peculiar life, in the middle of the fourth century bc. We know that behind him stand the figures of Antisthenes and Aristippus. Antisthenes, who was a personal pupil of Socrates and was known not to have taken an interest in public life or the State, who believed in independence, whose hero was Herakles, performer of great labours for the benefit of men, followed the narrow path of principle. Aristippus, who proclaimed himself a stranger everywhere, said that he wished 'neither to rule nor to be ruled',1 and therefore went too far for Socrates. His device was ekho all' oukh ekhomai ('I possess but am not possessed'):2 I enjoy pleasures and seek them but they cannot make me their slave; I can detach myself from them at will. Antisthenes agreed with Plato about one thing, at any rate, that victory over oneself was the most difficult and most important of all victories. Aristippus was a Cyrenaic who came to Athens from a very different climate; he may have believed that pleasure, provided one is not enslaved by it, is the natural end of man, whereas the Stoics believed that it was the enemy and clouded the passions and obscured the truth and so made men stumble and lose their way and become enslaved by forces they could not control; but the ideal of both was the same - independence, self-possession, individual self-assertion. So far as most men were blind, enslaved, prey to irrational feelings, the sage was likely to be unpopular and in some danger; hence his interest in swaying the rulers to his own way of thought.
Behind Antisthenes, behind Socrates even, stands the enigmatic figure of Antiphon, the Sophist of the end of the fifth century, of whom at least we possess independent evidence in a papyrus. He believed that you can cheat men, but not nature. If you eat a poisonous food, you die; but if you commit what is called an injustice, then, if no one has seen it, you will not suffer for it. It pays you to practise justice only if there are witnesses of your act - human beings upon whom you can make an impression, if need be a false one. Anarchy is a painful state of affairs, so there is a reason to teach children to obey, but if you can get away with something condemned by the human rules which particular human beings have established, then why not do so? He was against lawsuits because in claiming justice you made enemies of those against whom you witnessed, however truthfully, and this might prove a source of grave disadvantage to you later. From what we gather, Antiphon was a pessimistic quietist who preached the need for self- protection. The world was full of violent, dangerous men ready to make the innocent suffer. He gives advice to the victims on how to keep out of trouble. This is the first audible voice in ancient Greece which says - what Epicurus and his followers later echoed down the centuries - that the only satisfactory life is lived by keeping out of the sight of those who can do you damage, by creeping into a corner of your own choosing and constructing a private life which alone can satisfy the deepest needs of man. This is what Plato set himself to refute - the view that justice, participation in public life, does not pay but leads to wounds and misery and frustrated ambition. How well he accomplished his task is an issue that is still argued to this day.
Diogenes went further than this. He declared that he had to alter the currency - to destroy the old values and substitute new ones. He boasted that he belonged to no city - for that is what the claim to be cosmopolitan means - in the sense in which the Communist Manifesto of i 847 declared that 'The workers have no country' and 'The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains.'[127] Only the independent man was free, and freedom alone makes happy, by making invulnerable. He inveighed against the arts, the sciences and all external graces with deliberate rudeness to Alexander. The rough jokes attributed to him create an image of a man who deliberately set out to shock public opinion in order to call attention to the gratuitous falsity and conventional hypocrisies of civilised life. He advocated, so we are told, total disregard of the proprieties: sexual intercourse and every intimate function may be performed in public. What deters one from it? The fact that people are shocked? What of it? Why should one respect the reactions of fools or hypocrites, slaves of convention, men who do not understand that men can attain to happiness and dignity only by following nature, that is by ignoring artificial arrangements when all their instincts urge them in the opposite direction? This is fullblown individualism, but represented by our authorities as eccentric and a little deranged.
Crates, a rich man, gave up his wealth and took a few possessions in a knapsack and became the missionary and the saint of life according to nature. He called on families made unhappy by fears or jealousies or hatreds, reconciled enemies, created harmony and happiness, and, pauper and hunchback that he was, won the love of a beautiful and aristocratic lady, who married him against all protestations and became his fellow missionary. Man must be free, his possessions must be few enough to be carried in a sack slung across his shoulders, the pera which became the symbol of itinerant preachers of the Cynic sect. Here are Crates' words:
There is a city, Knapsack is its name, in the midst of the wine-coloured sea of Typhos [illusion]. Fair and fruitful it is, exceedingly beggarly, owning nothing. Thither sails no fool nor parasite nor lecher delighting in harlots, but it bears thyme and garlic and figs and bread. For such men fight not one another, nor yet do they take up arms for petty gain, nor for glory . . . Free are they from lust, the enslaver of men, they are not twisted by it: rather do they take pleasures in freedom and immortal kinghood. i
And again:
I am a citizen of the lands Obscurity and Poverty, impregnable to fortune, a fellow citizen of Diogenes, who defied all the plots of envy.[128]
These are the true predecessors of the new individualism - not many; and represented by our major authorities as somewhat marginal figures in the development of Greek culture. But were they indeed marginal? We cannot tell, for the principal, the fatal difficulty of this entire account is that we simply do not know what doctrines and opinions were held either by ordinary Greeks or by the thinkers among them. The vast bulk of our information comes from the writings of Plato and Aristotle, and they do not trouble to conceal their bias. Aristotle is perhaps a little more detached, scholarly and objective than Plato, but his own views are very positive and he shows little charity to his opponents, neither more nor less than other philosophers have since the beginning of the activity. What we know about the Sophists of the fifth century, and the Cynics and Sceptics and other so-called minor sects, is about as accurate as it would be if all we knew about, say, the writings of Bertrand Russell and modern linguistic analysis came to us from Soviet histories of philosophy; or if our only source for medieval thought was Russell's own history of Western thought. It is difficult to represent one's opponents fairly, and Plato plainly did not even try, unless they were positively sympathetic to him, like Parmenides or, in part, Protagoras - while the thinkers of whom we speak were plainly bitter enemies, whose views were to be put down at all costs.
The only point I wish to stress is that it is intrinsically unlikely that Zeno and Epicurus, Carneades and the new academy sprang up fully fledged to take over ethics and politics from the failing hands of degenerate Aristotelians and Platonists. Other scholars have felt this and have made gallant efforts to derive Stoicism, at least, from oriental sources. They point out, quite accurately, that every Stoic teacher of any note came from Asia or Africa. Grant and Zeller, Pohlenz and Bevan and a host of others think it no accident that Zeno and Persaeus came from the Phoenician colony in Cyprus; Herillus came from Carthage; Athenodorus came from Tarsus; Cleanthes from the Troad; Chrysippus from Cilicia; Diogenes the Stoic from Babylon; Posidonius from Syria; Panaet- ius from Rhodes; others from Sidon and Seleucia, Ascalon and the Bosphorus - alas, not a single Stoic was born in old Greece. It is implied that these men brought oriental ideas for personal salvation, black-and-white conceptions of good and evil, duty and sin, the desirability of dissolution in the eternal fire, the attractiveness of suicide. And perhaps it is hinted that this is echoed, in however vague a form, in the Jewish Bible: in the notion of individual responsibility to God that is no longer communal in Jeremiah, in Ezekiel and in the Psalms.' Who knows? Perhaps Philo of Alexandria, who was always trying to persuade people that Plato was acquainted with the teachings of Moses, was saying something that had some substance in it.
These theories are more interesting as indications that there is something inexplicable in this situation than because they are intrinsically plausible. Epicurus, whose doctrines for these purposes come close to those of the Stoics, was of pure Athenian blood, even though he grew up in Samos. Diogenes had come from Sinope, but Crates came from Elis, and no one suspected Antiphon of foreign origin. There is nothing inherently un-Greek in Zeno's doctrines: the belief in universal reason, in nature, in peace and inner harmony, self-mastery and independence, liberty and a calm detachment are not Hebraic values. He did speak of duty in terms of absolute rules, but this sprang from his conception of reason as providing ends, as in Plato - as a rigorous category admitting of no degree. There are no voices that thunder at human beings, no sublime and mysterious and terrifying divine presence whose nature it is impious to enquire into: on the contrary, everything is nearly too rational, too systematic, too neat and cut-and-dried, too positivistic. There is no element of mysticism in either Zeno or Epicurus. Cleanthes' profoundly religious hymn is not the utterance of a mystic but of a rationalist, a believer in cosmic reason. If these men were, indeed, foreign in origin and habits and appearance, they assimilated, if anything, too eagerly to the Greek model, like many a colonial in Imperial Rome or natives of the Levant or India in France or England in the nineteenth century. The movements are Greek through and through. Indeed Dodds complains that they were too rationalistic, so that the irrational impulses of the Greeks forced a return to superstition.
Yet the revolution is very great, and if it is not sudden - because the names of the thinkers who preceded it or the opposition to the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle has simply been suppressed or forgotten - that is no more than a conjecture, and rests on considerations of general plausibility, not on any hard evidence that we possess.
What did the revolution come to? Let me attempt to summarise
it.
Politics and ethics are divorced. The natural unit is now no longer the group, in terms of which men are defined as natural members of it, even if not limbs of an organism, but the individual. His needs, his purposes, his solutions, his fate are what matter. Social institutions may be natural ways of satisfying the individual's needs; however, they are not ends in themselves, but means. And politics, the discipline that deals with the nature and purpose of such institutions, is not a philosophical enquiry that asks about ends and the nature of reality, but a technological discipline that tells men how to obtain what they need or deserve, or should have or make or be - questions answered by ethical or psychological enquiry, not by treatises about the State or about kingship. There are many of these latter, but they are handbooks for Hellenistic rulers or loyal tributes and justifications of their conduct by tame court philosophers.
The only genuine life is the inner life; what is outer is expendable. A man is not a man unless his acts are dictated by himself and not forced upon him by a despot from without or by circumstances which he cannot control. The only portion of himself that is within his control is his inner consciousness. If he trains that consciousness to ignore and reject what it cannot control, he acquires independence from the external world. Only the independent are free, and only the free can satisfy their desires, that is, attain to peace and happiness. Such independence can be obtained only by understanding the nature of reality. But whereas for Plato and Aristotle this reality contains public life - the State - as intrinsic parts of it, for the Hellenistic philosophers it does not; hence the decay of political philosophy until Roman needs and Roman practice cause a specious revival in it.
(c) The ethics are the ethics of the individual, but this is not the same - and this point is of some importance - as the notion of individual rights or the sacredness of private life. Diogenes did not mind whether you were disgusted by his mode of living, his rags, his filth, his obscenity, his insulting behaviour, but he did not seek privacy as such. He merely ignored social conventions because he believed that those who knew the truth would not be horrified, but would live as he did. There is more inclination to privacy in Epicurus, but even there there is no individual to keep others out of his particular corner - a right to a room of one's own. This is a much later idea, and those writers who, like Sabine and, indeed, Pohlenz, who is a far more genuine scholar, speak of the emergence of the new value of privacy, and in the case of Sabine go so far as to talk about the rights of man, misunderstand the ancient world profoundly. Not until a force that in principle resisted the encroachments of the civil establishment - the Christian Church in its early struggles against Rome, and, perhaps, before it, Orthodox Jews who fought the secularising policies of Antiochus Epiphanes - created a conflict of authority did the idea arise that frontiers must be drawn beyond which the State is not entitled to venture. Even then it took many centuries for the notion of individual rights to emerge, the notion defended so passionately by Benjamin Constant, that men need an area, however small, within which they can do as they please, no matter how foolish or disapproved of by others. The notion of freedom from State control which his contemporary Humboldt defended, and which found its most eloquent champion in John Stuart Mill - that notion is wholly alien to the ancient world. Neither Plato nor Xenophon nor Aristotle nor Aristophanes, who deplore the selfishness, rapacity, lawlessness, lack of civic sense, irresponsibility of Athenian democracy; nor Pericles, who defends the 'open' society over which he presides; nor the Stoics and Sceptics and their successors, who thought of nothing but the self-preservation and self-gratification of individuals - none of these had any notion of the rights of man, the right to be left alone, the right not to be impinged upon within identifiable frontiers. That comes much later, and it is a gross anachronism to find it in the ancient world, whether Greek or Hebraic.
(d) But what happened was dramatic enough. One of the legs of the tripod upon which Western political philosophy rests was, if not broken, cracked. Individual salvation, individual happiness, individual taste, individual character emerge as the central goal, the centre of interest and value. The State is no longer what it was for Aristotle - a self-sufficient group of human beings united by natural pursuit of the good (that is, satisfying) life - but 'a mass of people living together, governed by law' (so Chrysippus at the beginning of the third century defined it).[129] A man may serve the State 'if nothing stops him'/ but it is not the central function of his life.
This is the moment that marks the birth of the idea that politics is unworthy of a truly gifted man, and painful and degrading to a truly good one. Of this attitude to politics there is scarcely any earlier trace, although perhaps the life of Socrates, as perhaps of original and interesting thinkers of earlier times of whom we know too little, bears witness to this too. At any rate, from now on this new scale of values haunts the European consciousness. Public and individual values, which had not been discriminated before, now go in different directions and, at times, clash violently. There is an attempt to patch up the situation by the Stoics of the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire. Panaetius regrets Zeno's violently anti-political attitude and tries to say that all this was written on the 'dog's tail'/ that is, when Zeno was still under the influence of the Cynic Crates. But once the seamless whole of the city-state in which the public and the private were not distinguished is torn, nothing can ever make it entirely whole again. In the Renaissance, in modern times, the notion of the separateness of moral and political values, the ethics of resistance, of withdrawal, of personal relationships, versus those of the service of mankind, is one of the deepest and most agonising issues. This is the hour of its birth.
It seems to have come to maturity, and to have begun to possess the minds of the intellectually most influential city that ever existed, somewhere between the death of Aristotle and the rise of the Stoics and the Epicureans. We know little about this intermediate period. Theophrastus reigned in the Lyceum in the place of Aristotle, and he believed in oikeiosis - kinship of all life - that there was a natural bond that united men to one another, a great solidarity, not service in a common cause, or the march towards a common purpose, or perception of the same truths, or union by some reciprocally accepted convention, or the claims of utility, but the sense of the unity of life, of the value of men as men, of humanity as a single family with world-wide frontiers. This is not a political idea, but a biological and moral one. Where does it come from? Not from Aristotle, who thought that neither barbarians nor slaves were even remote cousins to free men. But it is echoed by Zeno and by Epicurus. Where does it come from? That is a question to which we may never be able to discover the answer. Antiphon? Pythagoras? We do not know. Plato and Aristotle, if they knew, chose not to tell us.
(e) The new age of individualism is usually deplored as an age of decadence. Cornford says that after Aristotle 'nothing remains but the philosophy of old age, the resignation of a twilight that deepens alike over the garden of Pleasure and the hermitage of Virtue'. Sabine observes that the result of the decline of the city-state was 'a defeatist attitude, a mood of disillusionment, a disposition to withdraw and to create a private life in which public interests had a small or even a negative part' .2 Then follows a passage in which it is suggested that 'the unfortunate and dispossessed' made themselves even more violently vocal against the city-state and its values and laid 'stress upon the seamy side of the existing social orderV 'To Plato and Aristotle', the same author goes on, 'the values offered by citizenship still seemed fundamentally satisfying, or at least capable of being made so; to a few of their contemporaries and increasingly to their successors this appeared to be false.'[130] How does he know that there were few? If Greek literature does not reflect the prevalent democracy, but, on the contrary, criticism of it, why should it record a perhaps widespread desire for private values and private salvation? Why should we consider Plato and Aristotle better witnesses to the general thought of their time than Prodicus or Antiphon? Are Burke and Hegel, because they possess more genius, more reliable witnesses of the thought of their own time than Paine or Bentham? If Goethe and Comte were the only authors that survived from their age, how accurately should we be able to deduce its political and moral outlook? As for the pessimistic note struck by Cornford or Sabine, why should we assume that the decline of the 'organic' community was an unmixed disaster? Might it not have had a liberating effect? Perhaps the individuals who lived in greater and more centralised units felt a greater degree of independence, less interference. Rostovtzeff speaks of 'buoyant optimism' in the cities of the Greek diaspora/ The great leap forward in the sciences, and the arts as well, coincides with Cornford's theory of twilight and the disillusionment and defeatism of which Sabine and Barker speak. To every age its values: the individualism of the Hellenistic age is attributed by these thinkers to men's loneliness in the new mass society. Yet perhaps what they felt was not loneliness, but a sense of suffocation in the polis? First aristocrats like Heraclitus complained of it, then others. So far from being a sad, slow decline, it meant expanding horizons. The third century marks the beginning of new values, and a new conception of life; the condemnation of it by Aristotle and his modern disciples rests on assumptions which, to say the least, do not seem self-evidently valid.
FINAL RETROSPECT
Excerpts from 'My Intellectual Path' Determinism
Political freedom is a topic to which I devoted two lectures during the 1950s. The first of these was entitled 'Historical Inevitability'.[131] Here I stated that determinism was a doctrine very widely accepted among philosophers for many hundreds of years. Determinism declares that every event has a cause, from which it unavoidably follows. This is the foundation of the natural sciences: the laws of nature and all their applications - the entire body of natural science - rest upon the notion of an eternal order which the sciences investigate. But if the rest of nature is subject to these laws, can it be that man alone is not? When a man supposes, as most ordinary people do (though not most scientists and philosophers), that when he rises from the chair he need not have done so, that he did so because he chose to do so, but he need not have chosen - when he supposes this, he is told that this is an illusion, that even though the necessary work by psychologists has not yet been accomplished, one day it will be (or at any rate in principle can be), and then he will know that what he is and does is necessarily as it is, and could not be otherwise. I believe this doctrine to be false, but I do not in this essay seek to demonstrate this, or to refute determinism - indeed, I am not sure if such a demonstration or refutation is possible. My only concern is to ask myself two questions. Why do philosophers and others think that human beings are fully determined? And, if they are, is this compatible with normal moral sentiments and behaviour, as commonly understood?
My thesis is that there are two main reasons for supporting the doctrine of human determinism. The first is that, since the natural sciences are perhaps the greatest success story in the whole history of mankind, it seems absurd to suppose that man alone is not subject to the natural laws discovered by the scientists. (That, indeed, is what the eighteenth-century philosophes maintained.) The question is not, of course, whether man is wholly free of such laws - no one but a madman could maintain that man does not depend on his biological or psychological structure or environment, or on the laws of nature. The only question is: Is his liberty totally exhausted thereby? Is there not some corner in which he can act as he chooses, and not be determined to choose by antecedent causes? This may be a tiny corner of the realm of nature, but unless it is there, his consciousness of being free, which is undoubtedly all but universal - the fact that most people believe that, while some of their actions are mechanical, some obey their free will - is an enormous illusion, from the beginnings of mankind, ever since Adam ate the apple, although told not to do so, and did not reply, 'I could not help it, I did not do it freely, Eve forced me to do it.'
The second reason for belief in determinism is that it does devolve the responsibility for a great many things that people do on to impersonal causes, and therefore leaves them in a sense unblameworthy for what they do. When I make a mistake, or commit a wrong or a crime, or do anything else which I recognise, or which others recognise, as bad or unfortunate, I can say, 'How could I avoid it? - that was the way I was brought up' or 'That is my nature, something for which natural laws are responsible' or 'I belong to a society, a class, a Church, a nation, in which everyone does it, and nobody seems to condemn it' or 'I am psychologically conditioned by the way in which my parents behaved to each other and to me, and by the economic and social circumstances in which I was placed, or was forced into, not to be able to choose to act otherwise' or, finally, 'I was under orders.'
Against this, most people believe that everyone has at least two choices that he can make, two possibilities that he can realise. When Eichmann says 'I killed Jews because I was ordered to; if I had not done it I would have been killed myself' one can say 'I see that it is improbable that you would have chosen to be killed, but in principle you could have done it if you had decided to do it - there was no literal compulsion, as there is in nature, which caused you to act as you did.' You may say it is unreasonable to expect people to behave like that when facing great dangers: so it is, but however unlikely it may be that they should decide to do so, in the literal sense of the word they cow/d have chosen to do so. Martyrdom cannot be expected, but can be accepted, against whatever odds - indeed, that is why it is so greatly admired.
So much for the reasons for which men choose to embrace determinism in history. But if they do, there is a difficult logical consequence, to say the least. It means that we cannot say to anyone, 'Did you have to do that? Why need you have done that?' - the assumption behind which is that he could have refrained, or done something else. The whole of our common morality, in which we speak of obligation and duty, right and wrong, moral praise and blame - the way in which people are praised or condemned, rewarded or punished, for behaving in a way in which they were not forced to behave, when they could have behaved otherwise - this network of beliefs and practices, on which all current morality seems to me to depend, presupposes the notion of responsibility, and responsibility entails the ability to choose between black and white, right and wrong, pleasure and duty; as well as, in a wider sense, between forms of life, forms of government, and the whole constellations of moral values in terms of which most people, however much they may or may not be aware of it, do in fact live.
If determinism were accepted, our vocabulary would have to be very, very radically changed. I do not say that this is impossible in principle, but it goes further than what most people are prepared to face. At best, aesthetics would have to replace morality. You can admire or praise people for being handsome, or generous or musical - but that is not a matter of their choice, that is 'how they are made'. Moral praise would have to take the same form: if I praise you for saving my life at your own risk, I mean that it is wonderful that you are so made that you could not avoid doing this, and I am glad that I encountered someone literally determined to save my life, as opposed to someone else who was determined to look the other way. Honourable or dishonourable conduct, pleasure-seeking and heroic martyrdom, courage and cowardice, deceitfulness and truthfulness, doing right against temptation - these would become like being good-looking or ugly, tall or short, old or young, black or white, born of English or Italian parents: something that we cannot alter, for everything is determined. We can hope that things will go as we should like, but we cannot do anything towards this - we are so made that we cannot help but act in a particular fashion. Indeed, the very notion of an act denotes choice; but if choice is itself determined, what is the difference between action and mere behaviour?
It seems to me paradoxical that some political movements demand sacrifices and yet are determinist in belief. Marxism, for example, which is founded on historical determinism - the inevitable stages through which society must pass before it reaches perfection - enjoins painful and dangerous acts, coercion and killing, equally painful at times both to the perpetrators and to the victims; but if history will inevitably bring about the perfect society, why should one sacrifice one's life for a process which will, without one's help, reach its proper, happy destination? Yet there is a curious human feeling that if the stars in their courses are fighting for you, so that your cause will triumph, then you should sacrifice yourself in order to shorten the process, to bring the birth-pangs of the new order nearer, as Marx said. But can so many people be truly persuaded to face these dangers, just to shorten a process which will end in happiness whatever they may do or fail to do? This has always puzzled me, and puzzled others.
All this I discussed in the lecture in question, which has remained controversial, and has been much discussed and disputed, and is so still.
Freedom
My other lecture on freedom was entitled 'Two Concepts of Liberty' .1 This inaugurated my Oxford Professorship, and its gist was to distinguish between two notions of liberty, negative and positive. By negative liberty I meant the absence of obstacles which block human action. Quite apart from obstacles created by the external world, or by the biological, physiological, psychological laws which govern human beings, there is lack of political freedom - the central topic of my lecture - where the obstacles are man- made, whether deliberately or unintentionally. The extent of negative liberty depends on the degree to which such man-made obstacles are absent - on the degree to which I am free to go down this or that path without being prevented from doing so by man- made institutions or disciplines, or by the activities of specific human beings.
It is not enough to say that negative freedom simply means freedom to do what I like, for in that case I can liberate myself from obstacles to the fulfilment of desire simply by following the ancient Stoics and killing desire. But that path, the gradual elimination of the desires to which obstacles can occur, leads in the end to humans being gradually deprived of their natural, living activities: in other words, the most perfectly free human beings will be those who are dead, since then there is no desire and therefore no obstacles. What I had in mind, rather, was simply the number of paths down which a man can walk, whether or not he chooses to do so. That is the first of the two basic senses of political freedom.
Some have maintained, against me, that freedom must be a triadic relationship: I can overcome or remove or be free from obstacles only in order to do something, to be free to perform a given act or acts. But I do not accept that. The basic sense of unfreedom is that in which we ascribe it to the man in gaol, or the man tied to a tree; all that such a man seeks is the breaking of his chains, escape from the cell, without necessarily aiming at a particular activity once he is liberated. In the larger sense, of course, freedom means freedom from the rules of a society or its institutions, from the deployment against one of excessive moral or physical force, or from whatever shuts off possibilities of action which otherwise would be open. This I call 'freedom from'.
The other central sense of freedom is freedom to: if my negative freedom is specified by answering the question 'How far am I controlled?', the question for the second sense of freedom is 'Who controls me?' Since we are talking about man-made obstacles, I can ask myself 'Who determines my actions, my life? Do I do so, freely, in whatever way I choose? Or am I under orders from some other source of control? Is my activity determined by parents, schoolmasters, priests, policemen? Am I under the discipline of a legal system, the capitalist order, a slave-owner, the government (monarchical, oligarchic, democratic)? In what sense am I master of my fate ? My possibilities of action may be limited, but how are they limited? Who are those who stand in my way, how much power can they wield?'
These are the two central senses of 'liberty' which I set myself to investigate. I realised that they differed, that they were answers to two different questions; but, although cognate, they did not in my view clash - the answer to one did not necessarily determine the answer to the other. Both freedoms were ultimate human ends, both were necessarily limited, and both concepts could be perverted in the course of human history. Negative liberty could be interpreted as economic laissez-faire, whereby in the name of freedom owners are allowed to destroy the lives of children in mines, or factory-owners to destroy the health and character of workers in industry. But that was a perversion, not what the concept basically means to human beings, in my view. Equally it was said that it is a mockery to inform a poor man that he is perfectly free to occupy a room in an expensive hotel, although he may not be able to pay for it. But that, too, is a confusion. He is indeed free to rent a room there, but has not the means of using this freedom. He has not the means, perhaps, because he has been prevented from earning more than he does by a man-made economic system - but that is a deprivation of freedom to earn money, not of freedom to rent the room. This may sound a pedantic distinction, but it is central to discussions of economic versus political freedom.
The notion of positive freedom has led, historically, to even more frightful perversions. Who orders my life? I do. I? Ignorant, confused, driven hither and thither by uncontrolled passions and drives - is that all there is to me? Is there not within me a higher, more rational, freer self, able to understand and dominate passions, ignorance and other defects, which I can attain to only by a process of education or understanding, a process which can be managed only by those who are wiser than myself, who make me aware of my true, 'real', deepest self, of what I am at my best? This is a well- known metaphysical view, according to which I can be truly free and self-controlled only if I am truly rational - a belief which goes back to Plato - and since I am not perhaps sufficiently rational myself, I must obey those who are indeed rational, and who therefore know what is best not only for themselves but also for me, and who can guide me along lines which will ultimately awaken my true rational self and put it in charge, where it truly belongs. I may feel hemmed in - indeed, crushed - by these authorities, but that is an illusion: when I have grown up and have attained to a fully mature, 'real' self, I shall understand that I would have done for myself what has been done for me if I had been as wise, when I was in an inferior condition, as they are now.
In short, they are acting on my behalf, in the interests of my higher self, in controlling my lower self; so that true liberty for the lower self consists in total obedience to them, the wise, those who know the truth, the elite of sages; or perhaps my obedience must be to those who understand how human destiny is made - for if Marx is right, then it is a Party (which alone grasps the demands of the rational goals of history) which must shape and guide me, whichever way my poor empirical self may wish to go; and the Party itself must be guided by its far-seeing leaders, and in the end by the greatest and wisest leader of all.
There is no despot in the world who cannot use this method of argument for the vilest oppression, in the name of an ideal self which he is seeking to bring to fruition by his own, perhaps somewhat brutal and prima facie morally odious means (prima facie only for the lower empirical self). The 'engineer of human souls', to use Stalin's phrase,[132] knows best; he does what he does not simply in order to do his best for his nation, but in the name of the nation itself, in the name of what the nation would be doing itself if only it had attained to this level of historical understanding. That is the great perversion which the positive notion of liberty has been liable to: whether the tyranny issues from a Marxist leader, a king, a Fascist dictator, the masters of an authoritarian Church or class or State, it seeks for the imprisoned, 'real' self within men, and 'liberates' it, so that this self can attain to the level of those who give the orders.
This goes back to the naive notion that there is only one true answer to every question: if I know the true answer and you do not, and you disagree with me, it is because you are ignorant; if you knew the truth, you would necessarily believe what I believe; if you seek to disobey me, this can be so only because you are wrong, because the truth has not been revealed to you as it has been to me. This justifies some of the most frightful forms of oppression and enslavement in human history, and it is truly the most dangerous, and, in our century in particular, the most violent, interpretation of the notion of positive liberty.
This notion of two kinds of liberty and their distortions then formed the centre of much discussion and dispute in Western and other universities, and does so to this day.
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL APPENDICES
Berlin aged twelve, Arundel House School, July 1921
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The first page of the manuscript of 'The Purpose Justifies the Ways' (1922)
THE PURPOSE JUSTIFIES THE WAYS
way and thus stopped him. In his fall a sheet of paper fell out of his hip pocket. Old Vasily the servant, who followed him remarkably quickly for a man of sixty, picked up the paper unnoticed by the officer.
II
Meanwhile Peter decided to go to his cousin Leonid. Leonid, a young man himself, five years elder than his cousin, was dining when Peter rushed in. His burning black eyes, waving dark hair and the bewildered expression on his countenance made Leonid stunned to his place, amazed and bewildered.
'Where do you come from, cousin?' he asked when he recovered his breath, 'And what does that wild look of yours mean?'
Peter, full of hatred, told everything briefly to Leonid, when a knock on the door interrupted him. 'The soldiers!' exclaimed Peter, who looked through the keyhole.
'This way,' pointed Leonid shortly, pointing at the cupboard in the room.
Peter jumped into it without any noise. Leonid, who opened the door to the soldiers, let them in and, as if amazed, asked: 'What made you enter my quiet house, my worthy friends?'
The deceived soldiers asked in loud voices: 'Leonid Ivanov, confess that your cousin is hiding here. You will not be remembered in the court as a guilty man (for we know all your little faults for which you deserve to be punished).'
Peter trembled in his hiding place when he heard this.
'No, my worthy friends, you are on the wrong path, and very much mistaken in thinking that Peter my cousin is here. He never entered my house since his last visit two weeks ago.' Leonid played his part so well that the soldiers were ready to believe that they made mistake.
'But we saw Peter enter this house ... In any case you would not mind if we would search the house instantly.'
'But my friends,' protested Leonid, 'surely you would not mind a glass of good wine before you start!
'Ahoy! Gregory, bring some of my best wine for these worthy veterans,' cried Leonid, not waiting for the answer of the soldiers. 'Now then friends, let us be merry.'
Leonid all the time added more and more wine to the cups of the 'comrades' while himself hardly touched his own cup. Two hours passed and the drunken soldiers were carried off to unconscious. Meanwhile Peter thanked Leonid for his narrow escape, when suddenly Vasily the old servant of the Ivanovs rushed in.
'Your father is murdered by the wretches,' exclaimed the man, 'by the order of Uritsky, and there is the evidence,' said Vasily, hastily pulling out of his pocket the document he picked up when the officer dropped it. It run like this: 'By the hand of Uritsky minister of justice in the Republic of the Soldiers', Peasants' and Workmen's deputies: allowance given to Captain B. to arrest Andrew Ivanov and if necessary also Peter Ivanov. Uritsky.'
When Peter had read this he found a bit of paper between the folds of the document: 'Andrew Ivanov to be shot 3.1 5 p.m. at Gorohovaya 3. Peter Ivanov to be executed at 5.30 the same day. Uritsky.'
Peter looked at his watch. It showed 3.Ю p.m. Without telling a word he darted from the house in the direction of Gorohovaya 3. He entered the gate at 3-I4j. Thirty seconds remained. Not looking where he went, he slipped and fell down. When he got up he heard a horrible scream. Death and life fought in this scream. 'Boom!' Twelve guns sounded, and Peter knew the fate of his father.
He wandered on the streets like a madman. At last, when he came back to Leonid's house, he fainted on the doorstep. Leonid at once understood what had happened. He tried to keep himself up but failed, and burst into bitter tears.
After Peter came to his senses again the old Vasily said to him: 'Peter! Thy enemies the Bolshevist wretches have executed thy father! Therefore swear that thou wilt revenge for thy father!'
In that minute a shot was fired through the window by the officer which came to know how his soldiers were treated. He fired to revenge himself for the blow he received. His shot hit Vasily in his back.
'I swear!' said Peter. Meanwhile the old man's eyes for a moment closed, opened, and had that clear look that people only get in their last moments.
'Revenge!' he murmured, and fell heavily on Peter's hands, unconscious. A minute elapsed, and he opened his eyes for the last time. 'I'm going to meet you, my Master . .. Andr. . .'. He did not finish for death cut his bounds on the earth.
'As long as I live I shall try to revenge upon Uritsky,' called Peter loudly.
'And I am with you, 0 Peter!' cried Leonid, taking a step forward and raising his hand.
'Death to Uritsky!' they cried both.
III
It was the year 1919. A dark November night. The wind blew outside and the soft armchair before the burning stove seemed so warm and comfortable. In this deep armchair sat a man about forty years old with long flowing hair which showed a big white forehead, two deep little black eyes covered with long eyebrows grown together (which gave his face a somewhat severe look), a sharp nose, a carnivorous mouth and a sharp chin covered with a little French beard. This was the famous Uritsky.
He possessed a clever but also cruel look and all his countenance bore an expression of a fanatic. He signed death verdicts without moving his eyebrow. His leading motto in life was 'The purpose justifies the ways.' He did not stop before anything for bringing out his plans.
He made a good impression at first, but if one looked at the man with his little burning eyes, the man felt that Uritsky read all his thoughts. His eyes made an impression of a thousand little spears shooting through one's brains.
His look hypnotised people whom he wanted to obey him. This was once a famous man, 'comrade' Uritsky, the man of action and one of the greatest Bolshevist factors.
He divided manhood in two classes: first class, people that stood in his way; second, the people who obeyed him. The former, according to Uritsky's understanding, did not deserve to live at all.
'Tzin! tzin!' sounded the bell rung by Uritsky. A moment later Uritsky's young secretary appeared. His name was Michael Sere- veev. He wore a big black beard and a black curling moustache. Had he not the moustache and the beard, which at a careful examination would be recognised as false, you would see our old friend Peter Ivanov.
'Sit down Michael,' said Uritsky to him in a weak voice. After Michael alias Peter sat, Uritsky continued his talk. 'Come here,' he said melancholically, 'and tell me a story that would quieten my nerves, for I am tired of the day's work, you know, Michael. Tell me a story that a nurse told you when you were a baby. It is foolish, but it will quieten my nerves. Go on and tell me your tale.'
'I see, sir,' answered Peter, and began.
'Thousands of years ago and thousands of miles away there lived a folk of good people. The people were kind and noble and enjoyed their life thoroughly until a great disaster came along. A new not worthy government ruled the country and destroyed it. It shed the blood of the people. At the head of it stood an ex- murderer, a cruel and clever villain.
'Between others, also one of the most honourable citizens was executed. His son also was to be executed. But he escaped and swore to revenge his father's death upon the villain who signed the death verdict.
'And now', finished Peter loudly, pulling out his automatic, 'the hour come! Hands up!' he shouted, levelling his pistol with Uritsky's forehead. 'Boom!' sounded the pistol, and Uritsky without a groan fell heavily on the floor.
'Ho! Ahoy! Soldiers!' shouted Peter, and when the soldiers appeared he faced them with his pistol. The soldiers moved back in alarm. 'I killed your master,' he cried, 'and now my mission on earth is finished. My father is executed, so is Leonid, both without a trial, and I have not got anybody to live for! О Father, I am going to join you!' 'Boom!' fired Peter and fell heavily over the body of his dead enemy.
When the soldiers came near they found that both were dead.
A LETTER TO GEORGE KENNAN
plainly, and very, if I may say so, poignantly, depends one's entire moral outlook, i.e. everything one believes.
Let me try and say what I think it is; you say (and I am not quoting) that every man possesses a point of weakness, an Achilles' heel, and by exploiting this a man may be made a hero or a martyr or a rag. Again, if I understand you correctly, you think that Western civilisation has rested upon the principle that, whatever else was permitted or forbidden, the one heinous act which would destroy the world was to do precisely this - the deliberate act of tampering with human beings so as to make them behave in a way which, if they knew what they were doing, or what its consequences were likely to be, would make them recoil with horror and disgust. The whole of the Kantian morality (and I don't know about Catholics, but Protestants, Jews, Muslims and high-minded atheists believe it) lies in this; the mysterious phrase about men being 'ends in themselves' to which much lip-service has been paid, with not much attempt to explain it, seems to lie in this: that every human being is assumed to possess the capacity to choose what to do, and what to be, however narrow the limits within which his choice may lie, however hemmed in by circumstances beyond his control; that all human love and respect rests upon the attribution of conscious motives in this sense; that all the categories, the concepts, in terms of which we think about and act towards one another - goodness, badness, integrity and lack of it, the attribution of dignity or honour to others which we must not insult or exploit, the entire cluster of ideas such as honesty, purity of motive, courage, sense of truth, sensibility, compassion, justice; and, on the other side, brutality, falseness, wickedness, ruthless- ness, lack of scruple, corruption, lack of feelings, emptiness - all these notions in terms of which we think of others and ourselves, in terms of which conduct is assessed, purposes adopted - all this becomes meaningless unless we think of human beings as capable of pursuing ends for their own sakes by deliberate acts of choice - which alone makes nobility noble and sacrifices sacrifices.
The whole of that morality, which is most prominent in the nineteenth century, in particular in the romantic period, but implicit in both Christian and Jewish writings, and far less present in the pagan world, rests on the view that it is a marvellous thing in itself when a man pits himself against the world, and sacrifices himself to an ideal without reckoning the consequences, even when we consider his ideal false and its consequences disastrous. We admire purity of motive as such, and think it a wonderful thing - or at any rate deeply impressive, perhaps to be fought but never despised - when somebody throws away material advantage, reputation etc. for the sake of bearing witness to something which he believes to be true, however mistaken and fanatical we may think him to be. I do not say that we worship passionate self- abandonment or automatically prefer a desperate fanaticism to moderation and enlightened self-interest. Of course not; yet nevertheless we do think such conduct deeply moving even when misdirected. We admire it always more than calculation; we at least understand the kind of aesthetic splendour which all defiance has for some people - Carlyle, Nietzsche, Leontiev and Fascists generally. We think that only those human beings are a credit to their kind who do not let themselves be pushed too far by the forces of nature or history, either passively or by glorying in their own impotence; and we idealise only those who have purposes for which they accept responsibility, on which they stake something, and at times everything; living consciously and bravely for whatever they think good, i.e. worth living and, in the last resort, dying for.
All this may seem an enormous platitude, but, if it is true, this is, of course, what ultimately refutes utilitarianism and what makes Hegel and Marx such monstrous traitors to our civilisation. When, in the famous passage/ Ivan Karamazov rejects the worlds upon worlds of happiness which may be bought at the price of the torture to death of one innocent child, what can utilitarians, even the most civilised and humane, say to him? After all, it is in a sense unreasonable to throw away so much human bliss purchased at so small a price as one - only one - innocent victim, done to death however horribly - what after all is one soul against the happiness of so many? Nevertheless, when Ivan says he would rather return the ticket, no reader of Dostoevsky thinks this cold-hearted or mad or irresponsible; and although a long course of Bentham or Hegel might turn one into a supporter of the Grand Inquisitor, qualms remain.
Ivan Karamazov cannot be totally exorcised; he speaks for us all, and this I take to be your point, and the foundation of your optimism. What I take you to say, and what I should have said myself if I had had the wit or the depth, is that the one thing which no utilitarian paradise, no promise of eternal harmony in the future within some vast organic whole will make us accept is the use of human beings as mere means - the doctoring of them until they are made to do what they do, not for the sake of the purposes which are their purposes, fulfilment of hopes which however foolish or desperate are at least their own, but for reasons which only we, the manipulators, who freely twist them for our purposes, can understand. What horrifies one about Soviet or Nazi practice is not merely the suffering and the cruelty, since although that is bad enough, it is something which history has produced too often, and to ignore its apparent inevitability is perhaps real Utopianism - no; what turns one inside out, and is indescribable, is the spectacle of one set of persons who so tamper and 'get at' others that the others do their will without knowing what they are doing; and in this lose their status as free human beings, indeed as human beings at all.
When armies were slaughtered by other armies in the course of history, we might be appalled by the carnage and turn pacifist; but our horror acquires a new dimension when we read about children, or for that matter grown-up men and women, whom the Nazis loaded into trains bound for gas chambers, telling them that they were going to emigrate to some happier place. Why does this deception, which may in fact have diminished the anguish of the victims, arouse a really unutterable kind of horror in us? The spectacle, I mean, of the victims marching off in happy ignorance of their doom amid the smiling faces of their tormentors? Surely because we cannot bear the thought of human beings denied their last rights - of knowing the truth, of acting with at least the freedom of the condemned, of being able to face their destruction with fear or courage, according to their temperaments, but at least as human beings, armed with the power of choice. It is the denial to human beings of the possibility of choice, the getting them into one's power, the twisting them this way and that in accordance with one's whim, the destruction of their personality by creating unequal moral terms between the gaoler and the victim, whereby the gaoler knows what he is doing, and why, and plays upon the victim, i.e. treats him as a mere object and not as a subject whose motives, views, intentions have any intrinsic weight whatever - by destroying the very possibility of his having views, notions of a relevant kind - that is what cannot be borne at all.
What else horrifies us about unscrupulousness if not this? Why is the thought of someone twisting someone else round his little finger, even in innocent contexts, so beastly (for instance in Dostoevsky's Dyadyushkin Son[133] which the Moscow Arts Theatre used to act so well and so cruelly)? After all, the victim may prefer to have no responsibility; the slave be happier in his slavery. Certainly we do not detest this kind of destruction of liberty merely because it denies liberty of action; there is a far greater horror in depriving men of the very capacity for freedom - that is the real sin against the Holy Ghost. Everything else is bearable so long as the possibility of goodness - of a state of affairs in which men freely choose, disinterestedly seek ends for their own sake - is still open, however much suffering they may have gone through. Their souls are destroyed only when this is no longer possible. It is when the desire for choice is broken that what men do thereby loses all moral value, and actions lose all significance (in terms of good and evil) in their own eyes; that is what is meant by destroying people's self-respect, by turning them, in your words, into rags. This is the ultimate horror because in such a situation there are no worthwhile motives left: nothing is worth doing or avoiding, the reasons for existing are gone. We admire Don Quixote, if we do, because he has a pure-hearted desire to do what is good, and he is pathetic because he is mad and his attempts are ludicrous.
For Hegel and for Marx (and possibly for Bentham, although he would have been horrified by the juxtaposition) Don Quixote is not merely absurd but immoral. Morality consists in doing what is good. Goodness is that which will satisfy one's nature. Only that will satisfy one's nature which is part of the historical stream along which one is carried willy-nilly, i.e. that which 'the future' in any case holds in store. In some ultimate sense, failure is proof of a misunderstanding of history, of having chosen what is doomed to destruction, in preference to that which is destined to succeed. But to choose the former is 'irrational', and since morality is rational choice, to seek that which will not come off is immoral. This doctrine that the moral and the good is the successful, and that failure is not only unfortunate but wicked, is at the heart of all that is most horrifying both in utilitarianism and in 'historicism' of the Hegelian, Marxist type. For if only that were best which made one happiest in the long run, or that which accorded with some mysterious plan of history, there really would be no reason to 'return the ticket'. Provided that there was a reasonable probability that the new Soviet man might either be happier, even in some very long run, than his predecessors, or that history would be bound sooner or later to produce someone like him whether we liked it or not, to protest against him would be mere silly romanticism, 'subjective', 'idealistic', ultimately irresponsible. At most we would argue that the Russians were factually wrong and the Soviet method not the best for producing this desirable or inevitable type of man. But of course what we violently reject is not these questions of fact, but the very idea that there are any circumstances in which one has a right to get at, and shape, the characters and souls of other men for purposes which these men, if they realised what we were doing, might reject.
We distinguish to this extent between factual and value judgement - that we deny the right to tamper with human beings to an unlimited extent, whatever the truth about the laws of history; we might go further and deny the notion that 'history' in some mysterious way 'confers' upon us 'rights' to do this or that; that some men or bodies of men can morally claim a right to our obedience because they, in some sense, carry out the behests of 'history', are its chosen instrument, its medicine or scourge or in some important sense 'Welthistorisch'[134] - great, irresistible, riding the waves of the future, beyond our petty, subjective, not rationally bolsterable ideas of right and wrong. Many a German and I daresay many a Russian or Mongol or Chinese today feels that it is more adult to recognise the sheer immensity of the great events that shake the world, and play a part in history worthy of men by abandoning themselves to them, than by praising or damning and indulging in [bourgeois][135] moralisings: the notion that history must be applauded as such is the horrible German way out of the burden of moral choice.
If pushed to the extreme, this doctrine would, of course, do away with all education, since when we send children to school or influence them in other ways without obtaining their approval for what we are doing, are we not 'tampering' with them, 'moulding' them like pieces of clay with no purpose of their own? Our answer has to be that certainly all 'moulding' is evil, and that if human beings at birth had the power of choice and the means of understanding the world, it would be criminal; since they have not, we temporarily enslave them, for fear that, otherwise, they will suffer worse misfortunes from nature and from men, and this 'temporary enslavement' is a necessary evil until such time as they are able to choose for themselves - the 'enslavement' having as its purpose not an inculcation of obedience but its contrary, the development of power of free judgement and choice; still, evil it remains even if necessary.
Communists and Fascists maintain that this kind of 'education' is needed not only for children but for entire nations for long periods, the slow withering away of the State corresponding to immaturity in the lives of individuals. The analogy is specious because peoples, nations are not individuals and still less children; moreover in promising maturity their practice belies their professions; that is to say, they are lying, and for the most part know that they are. From a necessary evil in the case of the education of helpless children, this kind of practice becomes an evil on a much larger scale, and quite gratuitous, based either on utilitarianism, which misrepresents our moral values, or again on metaphors which misdescribe both what we call good and bad, and the nature of the world, the facts themselves. For we, i.e. those who join with us, are more concerned with making people free than making them happy; we would rather that they chose badly than not at all; because we believe that unless they choose they cannot be either happy or unhappy in any sense in which these conditions are worth having; the very notion of 'worth having' presupposes the choice of ends, a system of free preferences; and an undermining of them is what strikes us with such cold terror, worse than the most unjust sufferings, which nevertheless leave the possibility of knowing them for what they are - of free judgement, which makes it possible to condemn them - still open.
You say that men who in this way undermine the lives of other men will end by undermining themselves, and the whole evil system is therefore doomed to collapse. In the long run I am sure you are right, because open-eyed cynicism, the exploitation of others by men who avoid being exploited themselves, is an attitude difficult for human beings to keep up for very long. It needs too much discipline and appalling strain in an atmosphere of such mutual hatred and distrust as cannot last because there is not enough moral intensity or general fanaticism to keep it going. But still the run can be very long before it is over, and I do not believe that the corrosive force from inside will work away at the rate which perhaps you, more hopefully, anticipate. I feel that we must avoid being inverted Marxists. Marx and Hegel observed the economic corrosion in their lifetime, and so the revolution seemed to be always round the corner. They died without seeing it, and perhaps it would have taken centuries if Lenin had not given history a sharp jolt. Without the jolt, are moral forces alone sufficient to bury the Soviet grave-diggers? I doubt it. But that in the end the worm would eat them I doubt no more than you; but whereas you say that is an isolated evil, a monstrous scourge sent to try us, not connected with what goes on elsewhere, I cannot help seeing it as an extreme and distorted but only too typical form of some general attitude of mind from which our own countries are not exempt.
For saying this, E. H. Carr has attacked me with some violence, in a leading article in The Times Literary Supplement last June.1 This makes me believe I must be even more right than I thought, since his writings are among the more obvious symptoms of what I tried to analyse, and he rightly interprets my articles as an attack on all he stands for. All this comes out particularly in his last oeuvre - on the Russian Revolution - in which the opposition and the victims are not allowed to testify - feeble flotsam adequately taken care of by history, which has swept them away as, being against the current, they, eo ipso, deserve. Only the victors deserve to be heard; the rest - Pascal, Pierre Bezukhov, all Chekhov's people, all the critics and casualties of Deutschtom or White Man's Burdens, or the American Century, or the Common Man on the March - these are historical dust, lishnye lyudif those who have missed the bus of history, poor little rats inferior to Ibsenite rebels who are all potential Catilines and dictators. Surely there never was a time when more homage was paid to bullies as such: and the weaker the victim the louder (and sincerer) his paeans - vide E. H. Carr,
' 'The New Scepticism' (unsigned), The Times Literary Supplement, 9 June 1950, 3572 'Superfluous men'. The concept of the 'superfluous man' was given its familiar name by Turgenev in Dnevnik lishnego cheloveka ('Diary of a superfluous man'): see entry for 2 3 March 18 50. The term was also used as a catchphrase by Dostoevsky in Zapiski zz podpol'ya ('Notes from Underground', 1864).
Koestler, Burnham, Laski, passim? But I must not waste your time any further.
Once more I should like to say how deeply moved I was by your formulation of what it is that excites in us the unparalleled horror which we feel when we read of what goes on in Soviet territories, and [to record] my admiration and unbounded moral respect for the insight and scruple with which you set it forth. These qualities seem to me unique at present; more than this I cannot say. Yours ever, [Isaiah][136]
NOTES ON PREJUDICE
i
Few things have done more harm than the belief on the part of individuals or groups (or tribes or states or nations or churches) that he or she or they are in sole possession of the truth: especially about how to live, what to be & do - & that those who differ from them are not merely mistaken, but wicked or mad: & need restraining or suppressing. It is a terrible and dangerous arrogance to believe that you alone are right: have a magical eye which sees the truth: & that others cannot be right if they disagree. This makes one certain that there is one goal & one only for one's nation or church or the whole of humanity, & that it is worth any amount of suffering (particularly on the part of other people) if only the goal is attained - 'through an ocean of blood to the Kingdom of Love' (or something like this) said Robespierre:[137] & Hitler, Lenin, Stalin, & I daresay leaders in the religious wars of Christian v. Moslem or Catholics v. Protestants sincerely believed this: the belief that there is one & only one true answer to the central questions which have agonized mankind & that one has it oneself - or one's Leader has it - was responsible for the oceans of blood: but no Kingdom of Love sprang from it - or could: there are many ways of living, believing, behaving: mere knowledge provided by history, anthropology, literature, art, law makes clear that the differences of cultures & characters are as deep as the similarities (which make men human) & that we are none the poorer for this rich variety: knowledge of it opens the windows of the mind (and soul) and makes people wiser, nicer, & more civilized: absence of it breeds irrational prejudice, hatreds, ghastly extermination of heretics and those who are different:if the two great wars, plus Hitler's genocides haven't taught us that, we are incurable.
The most valuable - or one of the most valuable - elements in the British tradition is precisely the relative freedom from political, racial, religious fanaticism & monomania: Compromising with people with whom you don't sympathize or altogether understand is indispensable to any decent society: nothing is more destructive than a happy sense of one's own - or one's nation's - infallibility which lets you destroy others with a quiet conscience because you are doing God's (e.g. the Spanish Inquisition or the Ayatollas) or the superior race's (e.g. Hitler) or History's (e.g. Lenin-Stalin) work. The only cure is understanding how other societies - in space or time, live: and that it is possible to lead lives different from one's own, & yet to be fully human, worthy of love, respect or at least curiosity. Jesus, Socrates, John Hus of Bohemia, the great chemist Lavoisier, socialists and liberals (as well as conservatives) in Russia, Jews in Germany, all perished at the hands of 'infallible' ideologues: intuitive certainty is no substitute for carefully tested empirical knowledge based on observation and experiment and free discussion between men: the first people totalitarians destroy or silence are men of ideas & free minds.
brooding semi-religious Slav mystics who write deep novels + a huge horde of cossacks loyal to the Tsar, who sing beautifully. In our times all this has dramatically altered: crushed population, yes, but technology, tanks, godless materialism, crusade against capitalism, etc etc. - the English are ruthless imperialists lording it over fuzzy wuzzies, looking down their long noses at the rest of the world - & then impoverished, liberal, decent welfare state beneficiaries in need of allies. And so on. AU these stereotypes are substitutes for real knowledge - which is never of anything so simple or permanent as a particular generalized image of foreigners, - & are stimuli to national self satisfaction & disdain of other nations. It is a prop to nationalism.
III
Nationalism - which everybody in the 19th century thought was ebbing - is the strongest & most dangerous force at large to-day. It is usually the product of a wound inflicted by one nation on the pride or territory of another: if Louis XIV had not attacked & devastated the Germans, & humiliated them for years - the Sun King whose state gave laws to everybody - in politics, warfare, art, philosophy, science - the Germans would not, perhaps, have become quite so aggressive by, say, the early 19th century when they became fiercely nationalistic against Napoleon. If the Russians, similarly, had not been treated as a barbarous mass by the West in the 19th century, or the Chinese humiliated by opium wars or general exploitation, neither would have fallen so easily to a doctrine which promised them to inherit the earth after they had - with the help of historic forces which none may stop - crushed all the capitalist unbelievers. If the Indians had not been patronized etc. etc. - Conquest, enslavement of peoples, imperialism etc are not fed by just greed or desire for glory, but have to justify themselves to themselves by some central idea: French as the only true culture: the white man's burden: communism: & the stereotypes of others as inferior or wicked. Only knowledge, careful & not short cuts - can dispel this: even that won't dispel human aggressiveness or dislike for the dissimilar (in skin, culture, religion) by itself: still, education in history, anthropology, law (especially if they are 'comparative' & not just of one's own country as they usually are) helps.
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The first page of the typescript of 'Political Ideas m the Romantic Age'
BERLIN AND HIS CRITICS
Ian Harris
The essays collected in Liberty are mostly attempts to develop the general position that Isaiah Berlin had adopted by the late 1940s and early 1950s. That position had three aspects. It applied Berlin's philosophical views to the intellectual history of Europe in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries; it attributed to that history practical consequences for the middle years of the twentieth century; and it responded to those consequences by outlining a liberal political theory.
Berlin's view of knowledge suggested that experience alters conceptual frameworks. Thus, for instance, since political theories address the experience of an epoch, and experience varies over time, such theories cannot cumulate progressively in the manner attributed to the natural sciences. The distinction this suggests took two, not unfamiliar, forms. One distinguished types of knowledge: between the natural sciences and the humanities. The other was an ontological distinction between their respective subject-matters, with on one side the notions that the facts of nature were consistent with one another and admitted of deterministic explanations, and on the other side that the features of a distinctively human life, including values, were inconsistent with each other and the products of free choice.
Berlin complemented these, neo-Kantian, views with a trajectory of intellectual history, seen in its most complete form in a typescript as yet unpublished, prepared initially at the beginning of the 1950s, 'Political Ideas in the Romantic Age'.1 He identified
1 For details of this typescript see Berlin's Freedom and its Betrayal: Six Enemies of Human Liberty (London, 2002: Chatto and Windus; Princeton, 2002: Princeton University Press), pp. xii-xiii, xv. (Subsequent page references are by number alone.) Freedom and its Betrayal is a reworking and selective expansion of some of the material from 'Political Ideas in the Romantic Age', broadcast as a
Kant as the inventor of the distinction between the realm of value and the facts of nature. Before Kant, it was understood that mankind belonged to a realm of fact, that facts were consistent with each other, and that all values, including moral values, were in some sense natural. These presuppositions issued during the (French) Enlightenment in the view that human conduct was determined, could be seen in a way analogous to that in which we view physical nature, and was properly a subject of modification in order to conform with nature rightly understood. If Rousseau translated such views into a political idiom, Kant, by rejecting them, gave a cue to such movements as romanticism and nationalism. These emphasised instead humanity's capacity to determine its own conduct, its capacity for invention, and its ability to multiply values.
This interpretation illuminated The Age of Enlightenment, evaluated Three Critics of the Enlightenment,2 and fertilised The Roots of Romanticism? but Berlin also found difficulties in the romantic legacy as much as in the 'scientific' one: he linked Maistre with the origins of Fascism and implied that the legacy of Marxism was more ambiguous than was made plain in Berlin's 1939 intellectual biography of its founder. Though the romantic legacy emphasised freedom, it might involve also a personification that located agency with groups, and subordinated individuals and minorities to their will; and whereas enlightened thought implied determinism, it might also include toleration and reason. Berlin's intellectual history suggested a need to clarify and to criticise traditions, as well as to express them, a general procedure not dissimilar from that of his contemporary Michael Oakeshott in The Politics of Faith and the Politics of Scepticism4 and On Human Conduct. 5 The two men differed (as in other particulars) in that Berlin's preoccupations in the 1940s and 1950s had a more obviously practical reference than Oakeshott's after the Cambridge Journal?
series of lectures in 1952. See in particular Berlin's treatment of Kant, 57-62.
' New York, 1956: New American Library.
1 London, 2000: Pimlico; Princeton, 2000: Princeton University Press.
London, 1999: Chatto and Windus; Princeton, 1999: Princeton University Press.
New Haven, 1996: Yale University Press.
Oxford, 1975: Clarendon Press.
Edited by Oakeshott from 1948 to 1954.
These preoccupations found expression from 1947 partly in Berlin's broadcasts, lectures and writings about Russia, which suggested that the pre-1917 intelligentsia contained a great many elements that did not point to Soviet destinations, besides a few that did.1 Berlin also began to work out a liberal alternative to totalitarianism. This was a more common project than the Russian one. F. A. Hayek's The Road to Serfdom,[138] Karl Popper's The Open Society and its Enemies,[139] J. L. Talmon's Origins of Totalitarian Democrat and George Sabine's 'The Two Democratic Traditions'[140] all in their different ways suggested or implied that there should be spheres within which the individual should be free from social and political interference, and constructed genealogies for totalitarianism, whilst the notion that the domestic function of the State is not to pattern the whole of society, but instead to provide a basic structure of order consistent with many different types of life and thought, is found, along with associated motifs, in many later works. Berlin's account, however, was worked out in his own manner.
Berlin's earliest surviving piece of writing, reprinted here, is the story 'The Purpose Justifies the Ways'. Whilst we certainly would do badly to read conceptual opinions into the mind of this twelve- year-old author, the piece reveals the disposition which found expression in Berlin's mature work. The tale shows how the lives situated within an area of negative freedom ('a cosy little home') are first threatened and then destroyed by the crude consequential- ism of Berlin's Commissar Uritsky, and by the belief this implied in his own intellectual sufficiency (not to mention his extreme personal nastiness). Though the tale is also about how Peter Ivanov revenged himself against Uritsky, this act vindicated a way of life against oppression. Berlin's own 'inner citadel'[141] developed conceptual protection against the same threat. He became preoccupied by the contrast between a settled, civilised life and its disturbance by the intrusive claims of intellectual monopolists. This was elaborated in many versions, of which perhaps the least formal, and certainly one of the most passionate, is his claim in 'Notes on Prejudice' (included here) that 'the belief that there is one & only one true answer to the central questions which have agonized mankind . . . was responsible for . . . oceans of blood: but no Kingdom of Love sprang from it'.1 The main essays in this volume show Berlin identifying conceptual intruders, demarcating the civil area into which they should not venture, and sketching a view of reality and knowledge that indicated just how mistaken their claims were.
The earliest item Berlin included in Four Essays on Liberty - 'Political Ideas in the Twentieth Century' (1950) - examined the origins of Communism, Fascism and Marxism, and dwelt on the belief that human life tended in 'one and only one direction'/ on the general prevalence of instrumentality and on 'the artificial stilling of doubts'/ the last by treating people as properly subjects of science; to these it preferred 'more room' to differ,4 and suggested very briefly that human goals were really various, and 'at times incompatible'.5 It attracted little published notice beyond an unsigned leading article by E. H. Carr.6 This implied that Berlin's attitude was nostalgic rather than practical; but Berlin's piece also occasioned a notable exchange of letters between George Kennan and Berlin, which identified a need for development and the role of 'the Kantian morality' within it.7 Berlin's letter is published for the first time in the present volume.
By reprinting 'Political Ideas', Berlin placed it as a preface to two of his more substantial lectures, 'Historical Inevitability' (i 9 54) and 'Two Concepts of Liberty' (1958).
Berlin needed at least to make space for free choice if he was to give conceptual strength to his preferences. 'Historical Inevitability' accordingly was more philosophical than historical in method, and devoted itself to this task, albeit negatively. It connected determinism with the view that 'the world has a direction and is governed by laws',1 that these laws could be known, and provided grounds for understanding humanity (and not just nature) specifically in terms of groups rather than individuals; that this view undermined individual responsibility; that determinism would require radical changes in 'our moral and psychological categories';2 and that moral judgement remained possible. The lecture, which was printed as a short book by Oxford University Press/ stimulated much comment, including high praise from Pieter Geyl in Debates with Historians/ and less high praise from E. H. Carr in What is History? Popper's The Poverty of Historicism6 is in some respects comparable with 'Historical Inevitability'. Philosophical commentators included J. A. Passmore in 'History, the Individual, and Inevitability'/ Ernest Nagel in 'Determinism in History';8 Amartya Sen in 'Determinism and Historical Predictions';9 and Morton White in Foundations of Historical Knowledge.10 The piece also stimulated a most perceptive brief treatment of Berlin by D. M. Mackinnon in A Study in Ethical Theory}1
Christopher Dawson, reviewing 'Historical Inevitability', remarked that Berlin's 'thesis is a simple one that will enlist the sympathy of all good citizens', and added that 'he attacks the enemies of freedom . . . with such indiscriminate enthusiasm, that . . .he has made a clean sweep of science and metaphysics and theology, and stands alone on the stricken field' .12 Berlin did indeed need to make at least two further steps towards being constructive.
One was to insist upon negative freedom as a complement to a capacity for free choice, the other to explain that neither metaphysics nor, in particular, value, properly understood, admitted the viewpoint Berlin rejected. His classic statement of these claims was his inaugural lecture at Oxford as Chichele Professor of Social and Political Theory, 'Two Concepts of Liberty'. 'Two Concepts'
' 114. 2 123. 3 London, 1954-
• Gri:iningen/The Hague, 1955: Wolters/Nijhoff; London, 1955: Batsford.
5 London/New York, 1961: Macmillan/St Martin's Press.
' London, 1957: Routledge; Boston, 1957: Beacon Press.
Philosophical Review 68 (1959), 93-102.
Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 20 (1959-60), 291-317, at 311-6; compare his The Structure of Science (London, 1961: Routledge; New York, 1961: Harcourt, Brace and World), 599-605.
' Enquiry (Delhi) 2 (1959), 99-115, at 113-14
New York, 1965: Harper and Row, 265 ff.
London, 1957: A. and C. Black; New York, 1962: Collier, 207-17.
" Harvard Law Journal 70 (1957), 584-8, at 585.
indicated that though the concepts of negative and positive freedom were 'at no great logical distance'1 from each other, yet over time they had been developed in very inconsistent ways. Berlin gave an account of the distortion of the positive concept from its original form of collective control over external nature to group control over, and modification of, the individual; he connected it with the metaphysical view that society and nature alike disclose a harmonious order, discoverable by reason, towards which political authority might direct people; and he concluded the lecture by suggesting quite briefly a contrary view, 'that not all good things are compatible, still less all the ideals of mankind'/ that choice amongst them was necessary and therefore so was the freedom to exercise choice that the provision of negative freedom would facilitate.
'Two Concepts' excited much comment in the years immediately succeeding publication, including an unsigned review by Richard Wollheim, at once friendly and critical,3 and a eulogy by Noel Annan.4 There was a variety of further responses. These included Marshall Cohen, 'Berlin and the Liberal Tradition',5 which found 'Two Concepts' 'fundamentally obscure',6 and criticised especially its reading of positive liberty; David Spitz, 'The Nature and Limits of Freedom'/ which suggested that Berlin's 'central thesis'8 had been argued by Dorothy Fosdick's What is Liberty?? and A. S. Kaufman, 'Professor Berlin on "Negative Freedom"',10 which found confusion.
Fuller commentary began with Alan Ryan, 'Freedom'/1 which discussed both Berlin and his critics. It was carried forward by L. J. Macfarlane, 'On Two Concepts of Liberty',12 which remains the most penetrating general discussion of Berlin's treatment of liberty.
'178. 2213.
'A Hundred Years After', Times Literary Supplement, 20 February 1959, 89-90.
'Misconceptions of Freedom', Listener, 19 February 1959, 323-4.
Philosophical Quarterly io (i960), 216-27.
'217.
7 Dissent 8 No i (Winter 1961), 78-85, at 79-82.
' 79.
' London and New York, 1939: Harper.
Mind 71 (1962), 241-3.
Philosophy 40 (1965), 93-112.
Political Studies 14 ( 1966), 293-305.
H. J. McCloskey, 'A Critique of the Ideals of Liberty',[142] doubted that much of what Berlin had discussed, whether negative or positive, was liberty properly so called. Better known is the essay by Gerald C. MacCallum, Jr., 'Negative and Positive Freedom'/ which, however, does not transparently understand positive freedom; MacCallum also wrote 'Berlin on the Compatibility of Values, Ideals and "Ends"'/ On these, see respectively Tom Baldwin, 'MacCallum and the Two Concepts of Freedom',[143] and G. A. Cohen, 'A Note on Values and Sacrifices'.5 'Berlin's Division of Liberty' was questioned in C. B. Macpherson, Democratic Theory: Essays in Retrieval/ Bernard Crick advanced another view again in Freedom as Politics/ G. W. Smith argued against Berlin that the genuinely contented slave has social freedom in 'Slavery, Contentment, and Social Freedom'.[144] Hans Blokland examined 'Isaiah Berlin on Positive and Negative Freedom'.[145] Of especial importance is Charles Taylor's 'What's Wrong with Negative Liberty', in Alan Ryan (ed.), The Idea of Freedom/° which suggested quite a different account of positive freedom. Christopher Megone sharply criticised both Berlin and Taylor in 'One Concept of Liberty'/1 Ronald Dworkin's attempt to develop 'Two Concepts of Liberty' in a characteristic way is in Avishai and Edna Margalit (eds.), Isaiah Berlin: A Celebration.12 The suggestion that negative and positive freedom had supported each other in at least one country was developed powerfully by Judith Shklar, 'Positive Liberty, Negative
' Mind 74 (1965), 483-508.
Philosophical Review 76 (1967), 3 12-34; later anthologised.
Ethics, 77 (1966-7), 139-45 .
Ratio 26 (I 984), 125-42.
Ethics 79 (1968-9), i 59-62.
• Oxford, 1973: Clarendon Press, chapter 5^ See also his The Rise and Fall of Economic Justice (Oxford, 1985: Oxford University Press), 92-100.
7 Sheffield, 1966: University of Sheffield; repr. in Crick's Political Theory and Practice (London, [1972]: Allen Lane).
' Philosophical Quarterly 27 (1977), 236-48.
In his Freedom and Culture in Western Society (London and New York, 1997: Routledge), chapter 2.
Oxford, 1979: Clarendon Press, 175-93; repr. in Taylor's Philosophy and the Human Sciences: Philosophical Papers (Cambridge and New York, 1985: Cambridge University Press), vol. 2, 211-29, amongst other places.
'' Political Studies 35 (1987), 6ii -22.
12 London, i 99 i: Hogarth Press; Chicago, i 99 1: University of Chicago Press, 100-9.
Liberty in the United States'.' 'Two Concepts' is often mentioned briefly in extended philosophical discussions of political freedom, for instance, Carl J. Friedrich, 'Rights, Liberties, Freedoms: A Reappraisal'/ and Hillel Steiner, An Essay on Rights/
Criticism of the intellectual history implied in 'Two Concepts' has included David Nicholls, 'Positive Liberty, 1881^1914'/ a decidedly sceptical treatment of its illustrative examples in Anthony Arblaster, 'Vision and Revision: A Note on the Text of Isaiah Berlin's Four Essays on Liberty'? a criticism of its account of Green in Avital Simhony, 'On Forcing Individuals to be Free: T. H. Green's Liberal Theory of Positive Freedom';6 and of its view of Spinoza in David West, 'Spinoza on Positive Freedom'/ to which Berlin responded with 'A Reply to David West'/ The reader may judge how adequately the history of political thought can be understood via the negative/positive distinction by consulting Z. A. Pelczynski and John Gray (eds.), Conceptions of Liberty in Political Philosophy/ The phase of thought in which 'Two Concepts' was written is itself considered in Noel O'Sullivan, 'Visions of Freedom: The Response to Totalitarianism', in Jack Hayward, Brian Barry and Archie Brown (eds.), The British Study of Politics in the Twentieth Century, a volume of general relevance to Berlin's life.10
The possibility that Berlin's pluralism involved relativism did not escape the vigilance of Leo Strauss. His essay 'Relativism' appeared in Helmut Schoeck and James W. Wiggins (eds.), Relativism and the Study of Man.n Other important reflections on the theme are Arnaldo Momigliano, 'On the Pioneer Trail'/ Hilary Putnam, 'Pragmatism and Relativism: Universal Values and Traditional Ways of Life';2 and Steven Lukes, 'Berlin's Dilemma'.3 Berlin addressed the question in 'Alleged Relativism in Eighteenth- Century European Thought' (1980) and 'The Pursuit of the Ideal' (1988), both reprinted in his The Crooked Timber of Humanity .*
The energy of its prose, the width of its reference and the sharpness of its distinction between negative and positive freedom have made 'Two Concepts of Liberty' pedagogically irresistible, whether for works of reference - as Chandran Kukuthas, 'Liberty', in Robert E. Goodin and Philip Pettit, (eds.), A Companion to Contemporary Political Philosophy5 - for textbooks - such as Tim Gray, Freedom,b Raymond Plant, Modern Political Thought/ and Peter Lassman and Steve Buckler, Political Thinkers of the Twentieth Century - and for brief discussions on the way to other destinations - as in Philip Pettit, Republicanism,4 The lecture has been reprinted frequently as a whole or in part. Examples include Robert E. Goodin and Philip Pettit (eds.), Contemporary Political Philosophy: An Anthology;10 David Miller (ed.), LibertyMichael Sandel (ed.), Liberalism and its Criticsf1 and Anthony Quinton (ed.), Political Philosophy}1 Berlin himself obligingly provided a digest of 'Two Concepts', 'Liberty' (1995), reprinted here. Ian Harris, 'Isaiah Berlin: Two Concepts of Liberty'/ attempted to clarify what Berlin had said.
Berlin's reading of the distinction between negative and positive
| New York Review of Books, 1 I November 1976, 33-8.
In his Words and Life (Cambridge, Mass., and London, 1995: Harvard University Press), 182-97 at 192-3.
Times Literary Supplement, 27 March 1998, 8-10.
London, 1990: John Murray; New York, 1991: Knopf.
Oxford and Cambridge, Mass., 1993: Blackwell, 534-47, at 534-8.
Basingstoke, 1990: Macmillan; Atlantic Highlands, NJ, 1991: Humanities Press International, chapter I.
Oxford, 1991: Blackwell, 235-8, 247-8
London, i 999: Routledge, chapter 5.
' Oxford, 1997: Clarendon Press, 17-18, 21-2, 27.
™ Oxford and Cambridge, Mass., 1997: Blackwell.
11 Oxford, 1991: Oxford University Press (with other relevant items).
'2 Oxford, 1984: Blackwell; New York, 1984: New York University Press.
u Oxford, 1967: Oxford University Press.
'4 In Murray Forsyth and Maurice Keens-Soper (eds.), The Political Classics: Green to Dworkin (Oxford, 1996: Oxford University Press), 121-42.
freedom has been put to use in various ways. See, for example, Sandra Farganis, 'Liberty: Two Perspectives on the Women's Movement';1 Partha Dasgupta, An Inquiry into Well-Being and Destitution? Ronald Dworkin, Freedom's Law? and Robert Grant, 'Morality, Social Policy and Berlin's Two Concepts'.4
The brief account of conflicts of value at the end of 'Two Concepts' applied to politics a staple of moral philosophy that Oxford had made its own, being one of the few points on which Ross and Ayer could converge.5 It was also welcome to those who distinguished the right and the good in political philosophy, and John Rawls has endorsed Berlin's theses about it as much as those about negative and positive freedom.6 Further treatments of value pluralism include Thomas Nagel, 'The Fragmentation of Value', in his Mortal Questions? Bernard Williams, 'Conflicts of Value';8 Charles Taylor, 'The Diversity of Goods'/ Michael Walzer, Spheres ofJustice?0 Joseph Raz, The Morality of Freedom;u Michael Stocker, Plural and Conflicting Values?2 and Steven Lukes, Moral Conflict and Politics.™ A useful anthology of essays on this topic is
Ethics 88 (1977-8), 67-732 Oxford and New York, 1993: Clarendon Press, chapter 2, section 5.
3 Cambridge, Mass, 1996: Harvard University Press; Oxford, 1996: Oxford University Press, 214-17.
' In Arien Mack (ed.), Liberty and Pluralism [Social Research 66 No 4 (1999)],
1217-445 See, amongst earlier examples, James Fitzjames Stephen, Liberty Equality, Fraternity (1873, 1874), ed. Stuart D. Warner (Indianapolis, 1993: Liberty Press), 93 ff., 118, 169, 172, 174, 180, 206, 225, etc., and Franz Brentano, The Origin of Our Knowledge of Right and Wrong (1889), ed. Oskar Kraus and Roderick M. Chisholm, trans. Roderick M. Chisholm and Elizabeth H. Schneewind (London, 1969: Routledge; New York, 1969: Humanities Press), para. 3 2.
' See most recently his Political Liberalism (New York, 1993: Columbia University Press), 57, 197, i98n, 299n, 303n, 332, and Justice as Fairness: A Restatement (Cambridge, Mass., 2001: Harvard University Press), 177 note 61.
Cambridge and New York, 1979: Cambridge University Press.
In The Idea of Freedom, 221-32, and in his Moral Luck (Cambridge and New York, 1981: Cambridge University Press).
' In Amartya Sen and Bernard Williams (eds.), Utilitarianism and Beyond (Cambridge and New York, 1982: Cambridge University Press), and in his Philosophical Papers, vol. 2, 23^47.
10 New York, 1983: Basic Books; Oxford, 1983: Martin Robertson.
Oxford and New York, 1986: Clarendon Press.
'2 Oxford and New York, 1990: Clarendon Press.
и Oxford, 1991: Clarendon Press, esp. part 1.
Christopher W. Gowans (ed.), Moral Dilemmas} This view and its congeners, of course, attract criticism from utilitarians, as for example James Griffin, Well-Being} The whole topic is treated in Ruth Chang (ed.), Incommensurability, Incomparability, and Practical Reason1 which is dedicated to Berlin's memory, and is discussed with special reference to him by Dworkin, Williams, Nagel and Taylor in part 2 of The Legacy of Isaiah Berlin.* Broader philosophical considerations of Berlinian themes include Bernard Williams's 'Introduction' to Berlin's Concepts and Categories,ъ and Richard Wollheim, 'The Idea of a Common Human Nature'/
Value pluralism, not least because of Berlin's account of it, has given birth to a number of recent debates. Roger Hausheer, 'Berlin and the Emergence of Liberal Pluralism'7 was one of the earliest treatments. The implications of Berlin's views are examined search- ingly by Eric Mack in 'Isaiah Berlin and the Quest for Liberal Pluralism',8 and in 'The Limits of Diversity: The New Counter- Enlightenment and Isaiah Berlin's Liberal Pluralism'.' George Crowder questioned the relationship between 'Pluralism and Lib- eralism',10 which attracted a response from Berlin and Bernard Williams, 'Pluralism and Liberalism: A Reply', 11 with further remarks from Crowder.u For a significantly revised view from Crowder see, for example, his Liberalism and Value Pluralism}1
The attempt to disconnect liberalism and pluralism owes much to the vigorous midwifery of John Gray. In his Isaiah Berlin1* he produced a fully rounded view, hinted at previously in his 'On
' New York, 1987: Oxford University Press.
Oxford and New York, 1986: Clarendon Press, chapter 5.
Cambridge, Mass., and London, 1997: Harvard University Press.
' See p. 3 55 above, note 1.
5 London, 1978: Hogarth Press; New York, 1979: Viking, xi-xviii.
• In Isaiah Berlin: A Celebration, 67-79.
7 In Pierre Manent and others, European Liberty (The Hague, 1983: Nijhoff), 49-81.
s Public Affairs Quarterly 7 No 3 (1993), 115-30.
' In Howard Dickman (ed.), The Imperiled Academy (New Brunswick, 1993: Transaction Books), 97-126.
Polittcal Studies 42 (1994), 293-3^.
ibid., 306--9.
ibid. 44 (1996), 649-p.
" London and New York, 2002: Continuum.
14 London, 1995: HarperCollins; Princeton, 1996: Princeton University Press.
Negative and Positive Liberty4 and again in 'Berlin's Agonistic Liberalism'.2 He has taken his views further in 'Where Pluralists and Liberals Part Company',3 and in Two Faces of Liberalism* Gray's interpretation of Berlin has been reviewed by Michael Walzer, 'Are There Limits to Liberalism?'/ and examined closely by Hans Blokland, 'Berlin on Pluralism and Liberalism: A Defence'.6 It provided a cue for further accounts of the matter by Amy Gutmann, 'Liberty and Pluralism in Pursuit of the Non- Ideal'/ and by Jonathan Riley, 'Crooked Timber and Liberal Culture'.8
Steven Lukes provided a robust defence of Berlin's approach to politics in 'The Singular and the Plural: On the Distinctive Liberalism of Isaiah Berlin',' and again in 'An Unfashionable Fox'.10 As the literature on pluralism has assumed very extensive proportions in the last decade - for instance, a whole number of Social Research is devoted to Liberty and Pluralism, as we have seen11 - it cannot be discussed here: but two items that demand mention are the study of the relations of liberalism and pluralism in Charles Larmore, 'Pluralism and Reasonable Disagreement',12 and the question posed by George Kateb, 'Can Cultures be Judged? Two Defenses of Cultural Pluralism in Isaiah Berlin's Work'.13
Berlin's treatment of nationalism, or something like it, in 'Two Concepts' is less critical than of other manifestations of positive liberty, and is more puzzled too. Berlin's own commitment to Zionism was expressed practically (see Michael Ignatieff, Isaiah
' Political Studies 28 (i98o), reprinted in his Liberalisms (London and New York, I 989: Routledge), chapter 4.
In his Post-Liberalism (London and New York, 1993: Routledge), 64-9.
International Journal of Philosophical Studies 6 (1998), 17-36; also in Maria Baghramian and Attracta Ingram (eds.), Pluralism: The Philosophy and Politics of Diversity (London and New York, 2000: Routledge), chapter 4^
Cambridge, 2000: Polity; New York, 2000: New Press.
New York Review of Books, 19 October 1995, 28-31.
The European Legacy, 4 No 4 (1999), 1-23.
Liberty and Pluralism, 1039-62.
In Pluralism, 1 2o-i5 5.
' Social Research 6 i ( 1 994), 698-718.
10 In The Legacy of Isaiah Berlin, 43-5711 See p. 358 above, note 4^
12 Social Philosophy and Practice 1 i No i (1994), 61-79^
'3 Liberty and Pluralism, 1009-38.
Berlin: A Life) and on paper in a number of essays, including 'Jewish Slavery and Emancipation' (1951), reprinted in his posthumous collection The Power of Ideas/ Considerations of his views include Stuart Hampshire, 'Nationalism';3 Joan Cocks, 'Individuality, Nationality, and the Jewish Question'/ and Avishai Margalit, 'The Crooked Timber of Humanity', Richard Wollheim, 'Berlin and Zionism' and Michael Walzer, 'Liberalism, Nationalism, Reform'.5 Berlin's views are sometimes discussed in broader treatments, as by David Miller in On Nationality/
'Two Concepts' left at least one important gap in Berlin's conceptual wall against totalitarianism. If to be free implied knowledge and the exercise of reason, then the distinction between the concepts of negative and positive freedom might be less radical than he had insisted in 1958. 'From Hope and Fear Set Free' (1964) correspondingly suggested that knowledge did not always liberate, and this presidential address to the Aristotelian Society finds its proper home in the present volume as a complement to the Chichele inaugural.
The tension between one view of knowledge and freedom was exemplified in 'John Stuart Mill and the Ends of Life'. This suggested that the younger Mill's thought embodied two very different strands of opinion. The first, deriving from Bentham and the Enlightenment, accented reason but also the determinism that went with man as part of nature/ yet, on the other hand, Mill's own open-mindedness made him recognise that this did not fit the facts of experience, and led him to tease out another strand, in which free choice and the importance of realising negative freedom in society were prominent. This interpretation, as well as expressing Oxonian distrust of the utilitarian tradition, portrayed a Mill who was a well-disposed but confused thinker. Though, as Berlin noted, this lecture attracted little attention, it contrasted with
' London, 1998: Chatto and Windus; New York, 1998: Metropolitan, esp. chapter 9.
London, 2000: Chatto and Windus; Princeton, 2000: Princeton University Press.
In Isaiah Berlin: A Celebration, 127-34.
Liberty and Pluralism, I i 91-1216.
All in part 3 of The Legacy of Isaiah Berlin.
• Oxford and New York, 1995: Clarendon Press, 7-8.
7 For a fuller statement of Berlin's rejection of this sort of utilitarianism, see Freedom and its Betrayal, 'Helvetius'.
another view. The footnote appended near the end of the piece in Four Essays briefly criticises, without naming, Maurice Cowling, Mill and Liberalism/ and Shirley Robin Letwin, The Pursuit of Certainty.2 These gave a higher estimate of Mill's competence and a less flattering view of his intentions. Though in the latter respect they have never won general adherence, and perhaps did not mean to do so, in the former they presaged a change in direction for the literature about Mill. This has included Alan Ryan, The Philosophy of J. S. Mill? John Gray, Mill on Liberty? Dennis F. Thompson, John Stuart Mill and Representative Government?1 William Thomas, Mill? Ann P. Robson, John M. Robson and Bruce L. Kinzer, A Moralist In and Out of Parliament/ and the number of the Political Science Reviewer devoted to Mill.8 Of especial relevance here is Richard Wollheim, 'John Stuart Mill and Isaiah Berlin',' which implies that Mill, properly interpreted, was both more coherent and closer to Berlin than Berlin had thought. Berlin and Mill are examined together with Green by Richard Bellamy, 'T. H. Green, J. S. Mill, and Isaiah Berlin on the Nature of Liberty and Liberalism'.^
Berlin devoted his intellectual energies in the years after 1959 partly to working out further the intellectual history that his published essays had adumbrated and his unpublished lectures had treated more fully. 'The Birth of Greek Individualism' of 1962, reprinted here, identified the fourth century bc, the Renaissance and Romanticism as crucial stages in his historical interpretation, and a number of Berlin's essays and lectures sought to give further substance to the two latter, especially 'The Originality of Machia- velli', in his Against the Current, 1 1 and The Roots of Romanticism.
| Cambridge, 1963, 1990: Cambridge University Press.
Cambridge, 1965: Cambridge University Press; repr. Indianapolis, 1998: Liberty Press.
London, 1970, 1987: Macmillan; repr. Atlantic Highlands, NJ, 1990: Humanities Press International.
London, 1983, Basingstoke, 1995: Routledge.
Princeton, 1976: Princeton University Press.
Oxford and New York, 1985: Oxford University Press.
Toronto and London, 1992: University of Toronto Press.
24 (l995).
' In The Idea of Freedom, 1 5 3-69.
In Hyman Gross and Ross Harrison (eds.), Jurisprudence: Cambridge Essays (Oxford and New York, 1992: Clarendon Press), 257-85.
London, 1979: Hogarth Press; New York, 1980: Viking.
Berlin's view of intellectual history was subjected to a searching examination by Hans Aarsleff, 'Vico and Berlin'/ was treated critically by P. N. Furbank, 'On Pluralism'/ and was connected to Berlin's liberalism by Graeme Garrard, 'The Counter- Enlightenment Liberalism of Isaiah Berlin'.[146] It was subjected more recently to an uncompromising criticism by Mark Lilla in 'Wolves and Lambs'.4 Berlin's view of Herder was developed by Charles Taylor, 'The Importance of Herder'.[147] It is considered by Hans Aarsleff, 'Herder's Cartesian Ursprung vs. Condillac's Expressivist Essai',[148] and placed on a larger canvas in his 'Facts, Fiction, and Opinion in the History of Linguistics: Language and Thought in the 17th and 18th Centuries'.[149] A topic relevant to Berlin's concerns was addressed in Larry Siedentop, 'Two Liberal Traditions'.8 Assessments of Berlin's own present relevance will be found in Jonny Steinberg, 'The Burdens of Berlin's Modernity',[150] and Ira Katznelson, 'Isaiah Berlin's Modernity',[151] whilst some contemporary currents of thought are surveyed in Raymond Tallis, Enemies of Hope.[152]
Extended treatments of Berlin's thought include Robert A. Kocis, A Critical Appraisal of Isaiah Berlin's Political Philosophy/2 and Claude J. Galipeau, Isaiah Berlin's Liberalism/3 as well as John Gray's enterprising Isaiah Berlin, whilst there is a running commentary on some of Berlin's writings in Ignatieff, Isaiah Berlin. Briefer synoptic views of varying perspective appear in Perry
Anderson, 'Components of the National Culture',' and 'The Pluralism of Isaiah Berlin';2 Alan Ryan, 'A Glamorous Salon: Isaiah Berlin's Disparate Gifts'/ and his 'Isaiah Berlin: Political Theory and Liberal Culture';4 Bhikhu Parekh, Contemporary Political Thinkers/ Noel Annan, Our Age? and his The Dons/ Michael Tanner, 'Isaiah: A Dissenting Voice'/ Bernard Williams, 'Berlin, Isaiah (1909-97)'/ Stefan Collini, 'Liberal Mind: Isaiah Berlin'/0 Michael Lessnoff, Political Philosophers of the Twentieth Century;" Michael Kenny, 'Isaiah Berlin's Contribution to Modern Political Theory';'2 and Maurice Cowling, Religion and Public Doctrine in Modem England/3
This bibliographical essay has commented on only a small selection of the literature about Berlin. A full listing of his own writings, compiled by Henry Hardy, to whom all students of Berlin are indebted, will be found in Against the Current}* This is also available in regularly updated form (see opposite) on the website of the Isaiah Berlin Literary Trust, which includes also a full secondary bibliography. Henry Hardy's own writings about Berlin include 'Confessions of an Editor'.15 A postscript is to be found on page 366.
199
243 The Roots of RomanticiSm, the A. W Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts, 1965, ed. Hency Hardy (London, 1999: Chano and Windus; Pnnceton, 1999: Princeton University Press; London, 2^Ю: Pimlico); ^ms. Dutch, German, Grek, Hebrew, Italian, Japanese, Polish, Spanish
244 'La repuUcion de Vico', trans. by Enrique BocardoCrespo of review of Peter Burke, Vico, in Pablo Badillo O'F^rell and Enrique Bocardo Cre
200
245 The Power of Ideas, ed. Hency Hardy (London, 200: Chatto and Windus; Princeton, 200: Princeton University Press) (reprints of 21,43, 52, 54a, 55,62, 63, 65,18,85, 102, 103, 1ll, 113, 115, 121, 221,240, together with 248); trans German, Italian, Spanish
246 Three Critics of the Enlightenment: Vico, Hai^m, Herder, ed. Henry Hardy (London, 2^Ю: Pimlico; Princeton, 2000: Princeton University Press) (reprints of 148, with revisions to the Vico material, and 212, with the English original of the Foreword to the German edition); trans. Chinese, Greek
247 'Herzen • A Preacher of the Truth', in Gionavva Calebich C^^ra, Aleksandr Jvanovic Henen: prnfezia e tradizione (Naples, 200: C^^, 39-40
248 'The Scarch for Status' (lalk on part of71). in POI, 195-9
249 Letter to Anand Chandavarlc.ar on Keynes and anti-Semitism, in Anand Chandavarkar, 'Was Keynes anti-Semitic?'. Economic and Political Weekly, 6 May 200, 1619-24, at 1623
2001
250 'A Visit to Leningrad' (1945), Times Literary Supplement. 23 March 2001, 13-15
250)a 'A Sense of Impending Doom' (1935; original title 'Literature and the Crisis'), Times literary Supplement, 21 July 2001, 11-12
250b 'The State of Psychology in 1936' (1936), History and Philosophy of Psychology 3 No I (2001), 16-83
250e 'Notes on Prejudice' (1981), Ne w York Review of Books, 18 October 2001, 12; repr. in L and, as 'Notes on Prejudice and Fanaticism', Australian Financial Review, 12 October 200 I, Review section, 4; trans. Swedish
202
251 Freedom land its Betrayal: Six Eru!mies ofHi^w liberty (1952), ed. Hency Hardy (London, forthcoming 2002: Chano & Windus; Princeton, fonhcoming 2002: Princeton University Press)
252 libery, ed. Henry Hardy, with a critical bibliography by Ian Harris (Oxford and New York, fonhcoming 2002: Oxford University Press) (253, with other writings on liberty: repnnts of 221, 24\a, excerptS from 240, and 241, together with 254 and 255)
253 'Five Essays on Liberty',cd Henry Hardy (second edition of \ \2, with reprint of 93 added). in L
254 A Letter to George Kennan 1951), in L
The end of the bibliography from the Isaiah Berlin Virtual Library, http://berlin.wolf.ox.acMk/, October 2001
Postscript
'Of making many books there is no end.' Since this essay was written, Berlin and his themes have continued to claim attention. Positive freedom has been considered by Adam Swift, who unpicks several of the strands woven together in 'Two Concepts', and finds more to say for some of these than Berlin.1 Jonathan Riley, who is writing a book entitled Pluralistic Liberalisms: Berlin, Rawls and Mill, has reworked 'Crooked Timber and Liberal Culture'2 by way of 'Interpreting Berlin's Liberalism', and has addressed George Kateb's question4 in 'Defending Cultural Pluralism within Liberal Limits'.5
' Political Philosophy: A Beginner's Guide for Students and Politicians (Oxford etc., 200 i: Polity and Blackwell), part 2, 'Liberty'.
See p. 360 above.
American Political Science Review 95 (2001), 283-95.
See p. 360 above.
; Political Theory 30 No i (February 2002), forthcoming.
CONCORDANCE TO FOUR ESSAYS ON LIBERTY
In this concordance, whose aim is to enable readers to find references to the original page-numbering of Four Essays on Liberty easily in the present volume, the first column lists the pages of Four Essays on Liberty, the second column specifies on which page of Liberty the opening words of the original page (excluding subheadings) are to be found, and the third column gives those opening words as they appear in Liberty.
FEL
L
FEL page begins
FEL
L
FEL page begins
ix
3
The first of these
xxViii
2 I
myself to have
four essays
refuted it
X
4
The main issues
xxix
22
but be conveyed
between
xxx
23
But this is so because
xi
5
and conduct
xxxi
24
enter imaginatively
xii
5
philosophers when
xxxii
25
extreme eccentricity
xiii
6
of the basic terms
xxxiii
26
more than this seems
xiv
7
'self-determinism'
xxxiv
26
unalterable patterns
XV
8
which we are then
xxxV
27
and extend our
xvi
9
Spinoza, most men
liberty
xvii
10
subscribe to
xxxVi
28
I recognize the fact
determinism
xxxVii
29
no way out
xviii
i i
different 'levels'
xxxViii
30
(b) whether the term
xix
12
inspire Professor
'liberty'
Passmore's
xxxix
3I
'Nature', which
xx
1 3
necessarily, to each
xl
32
this in any
other
quantitative
xxi
I4
would not think it
xli
33
by 'team spirit'
reasonable
xlii
34
eighteenth century
xxii
I5
if we took
xliii
35
to deserve to be
determinism
called
xxiii
i6
particular nexus
xliv
36
others, if I do
between
xlv
37
have taken this
xxiv
I 7
passage that I have
'negative'
quoted
xlvi
38
thought this too
XXV
i 8
can only escape
obvious
xxvi
19
altogether plausible
xlvii
39
form, is in far
xxvii
20
the truth
xlviii
40
strong - a situation
FEL
L
FEL page begins
xlix
41
hard-and-fast rule
I
42
expense of efficiency
li
43
there exists such a
thing
Iii
44
everything is still
liii
45
relativity largely
derives
liv
46
give the kind of
reasons
lv
46
virtually useless
Ivi
47
vision, a principle
Ivii
48
exploit or dismiss
lviii
49
enthusiasm for
common
lix
50
and finally to forget
lx
P
shown by
philosophical
Ixi
52
so critical that
lxii
53
certain evils
lxiii
54
political problems
i
55
Historians of ideas
2
56
The notion of 'laws'
3
57
of time - was not
4
57
economic and
political
5
58
Lytton Strachey
6
59
realization of that
free
7
60
common to all
8
61
And yet to a casual
9
62
even legislation
10
63
a considerable degree
11
64
Marx with much
12
65
unbridled private
i3
66
were the deepest
14
67
analysis of the
character
'5
68
essentially romantic
i6
68
a doctrine which
'7
70
a splendid disregard
i8
71
Diderot or Saint-
Simon
!9
72
that which divided
20
73
slaves by nature
21
74
the flow of life
22
75
made by such great
23
76
they - even Sextus
24
77
psychological
possibility
25
78
Orwell and Aldous
Huxley
26
78
adjusted as to
involve
FEL
L
FEL page begins
27
79
old symbols
28
80
forms the obverse
29
81
continue to say
30
82
human souls'
31
83
In the United States
32
84
flourished, for
instance
33
85
In this sinister
fashion
34
86
scientific enquiry
35
87
of diagnosticians
36
88
this kind - the
artificial
37
89
alignment of forces
38
90
eagerly today
39
9i
economic
organisation
40
92
more frequent ad
hoc
41
94
Writing some ten
years
42
95
affected the
categories
43
95
so confidently
prophesied
44
96
But whatever value
45
97
such as environment
46
98
civilisations or races
47
99
limited extent
48
100
There are many
versions
49
101
theory, stated in
50
102
knowledge permit
51
103
the Life-Force
52
104
which puts obstacles
53
105
-fore no historical
account
54
106
metaphor. To those
55
107
play their parts
56
108
ultimate 'structure of
reality'
57
109
shall have laws
58
109
laws' which make
59
110
necessarily empty
6o
111
demand justice from
61
112
irresistible - which
truly
62
113
element; they enter
63
114
direction truly
'scientific'
64
115
'responsible'. I live at
6s
47
To assess degrees
L
FEL page begins
FEL
L
I17
used, whereby
105
154
history
106
!55
118
known, to us
119
historians and
I07
155
sociologists
120
The proposition that
108
156
121
the sense of history
109
157
122
-evitable' depends on
!23
to convince ourselves
1 10
158
124
models, pure and
unapp ied
I I I
159
125
to be reminded
126
boundary between
112
160
126
everything, explain
"3
161
127
compulsion of this
type
114
162
128
relief from moral
115
163
burdens
116
164
129
see why this or that
1 !7
165
130
moment, as Taine
131
illusion, and with it
i iS
166
Ч2
claims masquerading
»33
seek to save
119
167
134
is responsible for
120
168
much
12!
168
135
or the complexities
136
For to treat what
122
169
!37
cannot by definition
123
i70
138
Pasteur as a
124
171
benefactor
125
172
139
beliefs about the
126
173
world
140
inaccuracy, or stupidity
127
173
140
-torians to suppress
I28
175
142
historians differ from
129
i76
142
are as creditable
!3O
i77
r43
as a rule,
quantitatively
131
178
144
our historical
132
i78
language
43
i79
145
and avoidable intrusion
44
180
146
be based on
!35
181
ignorance
136
182
147
grasp these rules
I37
I83
148
of the propositions
149
with nothing to contrast
138
184
150
merited perhaps, but
139
i85
151
martyrs and the
I40
186
minorities
141
I87
i52
desirable to have
I42
188
15J
we can never know
I43
189
FEL
66
67
68
69
7°
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
9°
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
I°3
104
FEL page begins
prevent it will only Two powerful
doctrines 'the unity of the
knower in one field than invalid; and the
desire contemporary
collapse material factors -
physical there is no anxiety effective younger sister
metaphysico-theological our task to describe to me to spring little regard for
experience If men never
disagreed some cases violently It may be that ideas or spiritual
forces able to do or be freedom. It is only the interests of other is not some species ' economic ' - is
increased interference is to be
drawn would say of Occam In the second place connected with
democracy is a good deal more and positive ways if they were more theories of self-
realisation I am the possessor independent, on its creatures at the
mercy tampering with
human men and things losing their original who, even while all other obstacles fallacious corollary
37°
LIBERTY
FEL
L
FEL page begtns
FEL
L
144
190
plan my life
178
222
145
191
Those who believed
146
192
order must in
179
223
principle
147
!93
of themselves'
180
224
148
194
the predisposed order
181
225
149
195
follow. In the ideal
182
226
case
183
227
150
196
understand your true
184
228
goals
185
229
Ч1
197
aesthetic, justification
Ч2
198
that only thus will
186
23i
153
199
automatically be
187
232
154
200
to Sarastro's temple
155
201
society, everything
188
233
156
202
taken to be
189
234
157
203
human, and therefore
190
235
q8
204
or nation, than
191
236
159
204
'organic' view
192
237
160
205
Mill called 'Pagan
!93
238
161
206
can be substituted
162
207
at any rate to believe
194
239
163
208
of the fully qualified
164
209
as mercilessly as
'95
239
165
210
rights, or the word
196
240
166
211
of what I mean
167
212
One belief, more than
'97
242
168
24
of some of our ideals
198
242
169
214
perversity. Indeed
17°
215
cannot be satisfied
199
243
171
216
-counter some
unforeseen
200
245
172
217
and sense of their
201
246
own
202
247
173
218
[I must begin by]
174
219
the centenary of the
203
248
birth
204
249
175
219
Everyone knows the
205
250
story
206
2P
176
220
went through his first
207
69
177
221
spontaneity and
uniqueness
FEL page begins
conditioning human
beings whose religion
breathes in Jamaica as a criterion of unrealized; among Mill had scarcely any variety of human life the essay after her
death amiable of rulers always alter our
views great? Mill goes on foundations for just of opinion for its will, is to prevent damaging to them Kant once remarked that
means Utilitarians and
the mere refusal authority and the
inevitable revolt against this Guardians. He
thought the ancient
prescription that. A quarter formidable, they are contemporary. On
Liberty ashamed, of this fact of God was possible He was the teacher over nature, but [This is not an entirely]
INDEX
Compiled by Douglas Matthews
References in italic are to 'Berlin and his Critics' (pages 349-66)
Aarsleff, Hans, 363
Abramsky, Chimen, 69n
activity: and liberty, 34-5
Acton, John Emerich Edward Dalberg, Ist
Baron, 2 3-4, 33, I p, 249 Aeschylus, 3 io Africa: social protest in, 64n Against the Current (IB), xxvii, 362, 364 Age of Enlightenment, The (IB), 350 Agnelli Prize, xxvi Alcibiades, 296 Alcidamas, 298
Alembert, Jean Le Rond d', 109 Alexander the Great (of Macedon), i i 5,
'44. 309-I0, 312, 314 Ambrose, St, i 8 2n anarchistic nihilism, 8 8 Anarchists, 195 Anderson, Perry, 363-4 animism, i9, i 58 Annan, Noel, 354, 364 anthropomorphism, 19 Antigone, 298 Antigonus Gonatas, 309 Antiochus Epiphanes, 3 18 Antiphon, 33, 298-9, 3 ij, J2o-i Antisthenes, 312-13 Aquinas, St Thomas, 135П, 261, 287 Arblaster, Anthony, 356 Archelaus, 298 Aristippus, 312-1 3 Aristophanes, 298, 319 Aristotelian Society: IB's Presidential
Address to, xix Aristotle: and determinism, 16; and civic liberty, 33; leaves Athens, 49; on obstacles to self-fulfilment, 253; on knowledge as liberating, 257; on causation and moral responsibility, 260; moral and political ideas, 287, 289, 291,
^ ^ 302-3, 309, 3 4-2, 3 I 5, 317-21; on social life, 294-5; exalts contemplative life, 295; on King Priam, 307; and Stoic doctrines, 310; escapes from Athens, 311 Armstrong, Hamilton Fish, 55n Asia: social protest in, 64n Assassins, 88
Associated Television company, xxvi Athenodorus, 3 i 6
Athens, 294, 308, 311, 319; see also
Greece (ancient) Attila the Hun, 115 Augustine, St, 287
authority: and liberty, 35-7, 39, 194-5, 206; and obedience, 75, 198, 284; and disagreement, 88^, 90, 92; area of, 206, 209-12; in ancient world, 283-4; see also sovereignty autonomy, 185, 277 Ayer, Alfred Jules, u6n, iji, 261, j58 Aztecs, 102
Babeuf, Francois Noel ('Gracchus'), 71 Bacon, Francis, 111-12, 259 Baghramian, Maria, and Attracta Ingram, 36on
Bain, Alexander, 223П Bakunin, Mikhail Aleksandrovich, 1 13, 2 p n
Baldwin, Tom, 355
Barker, Ernest, 33, 321
Barres, Maurice, 130
Baudelaire, Charles, 66
Beaver, Harold, xiv-xv
behaviourism, 95, 124, 278
Belinsky, Vissarion Grigorievich, 172
Bellamy, Richard, 362
Belloc, Hilaire, 118, q8
Bentham, Jeremy: on law as infraction of
liberty, 4m, i 7on, 195; on social development, 62; on utilising man's slavery to passions, 184; on liberty to do evil, i94n; on individual interests, 2i7n; and J. S. Mill, 22o-2, 227, 234, 238-9, 244, 250; on happiness, 222-3, 22jn, 226; Utilitarianism, 224; Mill's essay on, 225; influence and reputation, 321, 338; and moral goodness, 340; on reason and determinism, 361 Berenson, Bernard, 94 Bergson, Henri: anti-rationalism, 67, 74 Bevan, Edwyn Robert, 3 16 Bismarck, Prince Otto von, 1 59 blame see praise and blame Blanc, Louis, 228n Blanqui, Louis Auguste, 71 Blok, Alexander, xxi n Blokland, Hans, 3 55, 3 60 Bodin, Jean, 289
Bonald, Louis Gabriel Ambroise, vicomte de, 63
Booth, John Wilkes, 1 3 Bosanquet, Bernard, 196 Bossuet, Jacques Benigne, 10, 101, 156 bourgeoisie: achievements, 8 1 Bowra, Maurice, xxin Bowring, John, 223n Boy's Herald, The, xxviiin Bradley, Francis Herbert, 196, 271 Brandeis, Louis, i64n Brather, Hans-Stephan, 230n Brentano, Franz, 358n Brinton, Crane, i94n Brown, John, xiii-xv Buchner, Georg, 67, 96 Buckle, Henry Thomas, 77, 234, 247, 289 Buckroyd, Carol, xxiv Bukharin, Nikolay Ivanovich, i84n Burckhardt, Jacob, 2on, 64, 227, 242 Burke, Edmund: on composite society, 130, 203, 2o6n, 241; on individual liberties and interests, 173, 2i7n; on restraint, 194; on compromise, 215; and Mill, 244; on political structure, 289; reputation, 32 i Burnham, James, 344 Butler, Joseph, io2n Butler, Samuel: Erewhon, i 5 Butterfield, Herbert, 133, i35n, Ij8n, 229
Cabet, Etienne, 1 i 2 Caesar, Julius, i 1 5 Callicles, 299 Calvinism, 10, 175
Campanella, Tommaso, I i 2 Carlile, Richard, 223 n Carlyle, Alexander, 236 Carlyle, Thomas: historical view, 20, ioo, 244; irrationalism, 60, 66, i 97; cynicism, 78, 134; as prophet, 218; and Mill, 228, 247; on social control, 236; on Mill's relations with Harriet Taylor, 240; opposes Victorian claustrophobia, 243; influence, 247; defiance, 3 3 8 Carneades, 261, 316 Carr, Edward Hallett: criticises IB, xxi, 352-3; and IB's views on determinism, 7, io-1 1; historiographical views, 19-22, 26-7, 30, 1 32n; moral sermonising, 24, I38n; upholds victors over victims, 343; What is History?, i in Carritt, Edgar Frederick, 277 causality: in history, 5, 27-9; and self-
determination, 26o-i Chaeronea, battle of (338 bc), 3ii Chamberlain, Houston Stewart, 100 Chang, Ruth, 3 59 Charlemagne, 20 Chasles, Philarete, 92n Chesterton, Gilbert Keith, 244 children: obedience to orders, 193, 195 choice: and exercise of liberty, 44-9, 53, 271-2, 278, 340; as illusion, 1 1 o; constraints on, i 22-6; existentialism and, 162; and coercion, i 77n; and conflict of values, 214; Mill on supremacy of, 222, 237; of belief, 257-8; and self- determination, 26o-8; Kant on, 3 3 7; and deception, 33 9; see also determinism; free will
Chrysippus, 7, 26o-z, 309, 316, 3i9 Church, the: authoritarianism, 88, 90,
283-4; and values, 291-2 Cicero, 3i, 117, 261 civil liberties, 6 5 class (social), 68-70, 99-Ю0 Cleanthes, 309, 316-17 Cleon, 301 Cobden, Richard, 3 8 Cocks, Joan, 36/
coercion: and deprivation of freedom, i68-7i, 173-6, 184, 210; of the weak and ignorant, 179, i86n, i97-8; and rule by reason, 193 Cohen, Gerald Allan, 3 55 Cohen, Marshall, 40n, 3 54 Cole, George Douglas Howard, i66n Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 36, 221, 238, 244, 248
Collini, Stefan, 364 Common Knowledge (ed. Perl), xxvi Communards (French), 71 Communism: rise of, 6o-1, 68, 352; totalitarianism of, 77, 198; fanaticism of, 88; on education, 342 compulsion, 196-7, 274, 284 Comte, Auguste: and impersonality of history, 19-20, 109, i 29; influence and reputation, 77, 94-5, 247, 321; on disagreement in ethics and social sciences, 8o-i; and scientific supremacy in politics, 86; Memorial Lectures, 94; character and qualities, 9;; Utopianism, I 12; and generalisations in history, 14 i, 158; belief in universal causation, 153; as founder of sociology, 161; and human benefactors, 1 6 3; on free thinking in politics, 197; Mill's attitude to, 227, 234, 242n, 247, 25 in; on harmony of theory and practice, 23on; and 'pedantocratie', 2pn; and self-determination, 278 Concepts and Categories (IB), xxv Condorcet, Marie Jean Antoine Nicolas Caritat, marquis de: on unitary nature of values, 42, 2 I 2n, 289; liberalism, 62; on history as natural science, 95, 109, iii, 129; Utopianism, 112, 2i2n; on individual rights in ancient world, 176; Mill and, 244; Esquisse d'un tableau historique des progres de I'esprit humain, 111
conformism, 44, 239-42, 244 Conservatives, 59, 63, 66 Constant, Benjamin: quoted, 3; and State intervention, 38-9, 173; on 'sacred frontiers', p; on libeny, 171, 209-11, 283-4; and liberalism, 207; and J. S. Mill, 227; on individual rights, 318 Constitution of Athens, 301 Cornford, Francis Macdonald, po-i Cowling, Maurice, 362, 364 Craig, Edward, 364 Crates, 312, 314-16, 319 Creighton, Mandell, Bishop of London,
23-4, 138
Crick, Bernard, 35,3^5
crimes: and blame, 14-1 5
Critias, 296, 299
Cromwell, Oliver, i 15, 138
Crooked Timb'!r of Humanity, The (IB),
xxvin, jj7 Crowder, George, 359 Cumberledge, Geoffrey, xii
Cushman, John, xii Cynics, 3 i 2, 315
Darwin, Charles, 89, 142, 158, 287; The
Origin of Species, 219 Dasgupta, Panha, J 58 David and Goliath, 276 Davin, Dan, xiii Dawson, Christopher, 27n, 353 democracy: and individual liberty, 42, 176-8, 21 i; Mill mistrusts, 24o-i, 243, 25 m; in USA, 241, 284; in ancient Greece, 283, 295-6, 299, 32i; in France, 284
Demosthenes, 30D-1, 3 i 1
Denmark, 90
Descartes, Rene, 141, 287
desires: and freedom, 3 1-2, 326
despotism: and individual liberty, 49-50;
see also tyranny determinism: concept of, 4-i2, i6-i8, 29-30, n6n, i22, 124, 155; and blame, i4-i6, iii, i i6n; and historicism, 19-21, 28, 113-i4, 120, 124; and knowledge, I 39, 154, 264, 278; social, i6o-i; belief in, i6i, 257, 322-4; and search for causes, i88; and self- prediction, 265-70; and rationality, 277; Marxism and, 325; see also self- determination Dickens, Charles, 247 Dickman, Howard, 359n Diderot, Denis, 71, 243 Diogenes of Babylon (Stoic), 316 Diogenes Laertius, 23On Diogenes of Sinope (Cynic), 312, 314, 3l8-19
Disraeli, Benjamin (Earl of Beaconsfield), 246
Dodds, Eric Robertson, 317 domination, 192
Dostoevsky, Fedor Mikhailovich, 47, 66, 79, 171, 247; The Brothers Karamazov, 86, 338 n; The Devils, 71; Dyadyushkin Son ('Uncle's Dream'), 340; Zapiski iz podpol'ya ('Notes from Underground'), 343n Durham, John George Lambton, 1st Earl
of, 224 Durkheim, Emile, q8n Dworkin, Ronald, 355, 358, 359
East India Company, 224 education: and political ideals, 61-2, 195; and obedience, 195-8, 2i4, 284, 342; Mill on effects of, 242-3; as moulding, 341-2
Eichmann, Adolf, 323
Eichthal, Gustave d', 248
Einstein, Albert, 287
Eliot, Thomas Stearns: quoted, 94
empiricism: opposes impersonal forces, 27;
and the real, 123n; Mill's, 232, 238 Engels, Friedrich, 71, 85, iom, 130, 166, 230n
England: trade unions in, 84; self- confidence in, i 87n; see also Great Britain
Epictetus, 3 I, i 82n, I 86, 273-4 Epicureans, 253, 260, 306, 309-12, 320 Epicurus, 33, 189, 302-4, 311, 314, 316-18, 320
equality: and freedom, i 8on, 200
Erasmus, Desiderius, 175, 243
ethics: and determinism, 1 6; and attaining
truth, 75 Euripides, 298, 300 evil: freedom to perform, 194 n existentialism, 162 Eyre, Edward John, 224
Fabianism, 68, 227, 229n Faguet, Emile, pn fanaticism, 345-7 Farganis, Sandra, 358 Fascism: rise of, 6o, 352 ; totalitarianism, 77; rejects old values, 79; reliance on instinct, 83; ideology, 1 58; defiance, 338; on education, 342; Maistre and, 3 50 fatalism, 1 o, 1 1 6n Festugiere, Andre Jean, 252 Feuerbach, Ludwig, 87 Fichte, Johann Gottlieb, 5 in, 167, 191,