The relationship between politics and morality, at least in recent times, may be
formulated in the following contradictory assertions and theoretical propositions.
1. Politics is a form of techne. In political life we do not follow ethical
norms,
but technical rules. The success of any kind of politics depends on the skillful
application of a number of basic rules. These rules can be learned. To an extent,
their skillful application demands a special talent. It is also partly a matter of
experience. Any form of politics which is not based on adherence to a set of
technical rules will fail to achieve its objectives. The assertion that politics
is a
techne is
also to be understood as a postulate: politics should be practiced as a
techne.
2. Politics, in practice, is learned and applied as techne. It should,
however,
be founded on morality. The real task of politics is not simply to seize power or
strengthen one’s hold on power but to improve humankind and the world. The
merits of any system of politics depend on the strength of moral purpose of those
who believe in it and act in accordance with it. Any system of politics which does
not adhere to some moral norm must be wrong, simply because it sets no high
moral goals and is, moreover, incapable of generating any enthusiasm for
achieving them.
Despite the contradictions between the norms they establish, both propositions
agree in stressing that in practice politics follows technical rules and not moral
norms. We shall now go on to question the truth of this assertion and examine
how far either or both of these norms can be justified.
The assertion that politics only follows technical rules and not social norms can
only be true in one particular case, namely, when all political decisions are taken
by just one person and that person is above all social laws and controls –
either
an absolute monarch, a charismatic leader, or a despot. It is no coincidence that
Machiavelli recommended the Prince to adopt his political techne. If an individual
stands above all social rules, then it follows that he does not have to conform
to them. At the same time, however, his power depends entirely upon the
spectacular success of his political and military decisions. Neither his goals nor
the means by which he achieves them presuppose a consensus; a false consensus, motivated
by fear, is guaranteed anyway. It must be acknowledged, however, that unlimited political power is characterized not by its
stability but by its liability. If a statesman’s freedom of action is prescribed and limited to some extent, then the
population is much more tolerant of his failures than if he enjoyed unlimited power. Furthermore, the human psyche is not
adapted to wielding unlimited power. The consequences of all this are easy to appreciate. Although politics can only be practiced
as techne as long as the statesman is above all social rules, under those circumstances its practice is de facto rarely
governed by rational considerations. When power is unlimited politics generally loses all trace of rationality.This is a minor
point which is repeated here only in order to dispel the
preconception that politics is nothing but techne.
Apart from this one case, politics could never be practiced as pure techne, and
that still holds true today. Tradition, on the one hand, and laws, on the other,
considerably restrict both the choice of goals and the means of achieving them.
Moreover, these social norms not only prescribe the limits which cannot be
exceeded without arousing disapproval, but they also contain more or less
definite rules for just conduct. There are, of course, various restrictions and rules
governing behaviour within individual countries and relationships with other
states (both allies and enemies). The conduct of politics as pure techne is
more
customary in the latter than in the former case, but even there are exceptions.
The argument that the rules are frequently violated, particularly in the
sphere of foreign politics, is irrelevant. Moral norms are frequently violated
without losing their validity.
There are, of course, technical rules in all forms of politics. ‘Politics’
as such,
however, has no general technical rules, for differing social norms determine the
nature of the rules operating in different societies. For example, the technique
of
vote-catching can only be employed in a state where elections are held at all.
Whether someone plays an aristocratic or a jovial role depends no less on the
rules of a society than on its parliamentary methods.
In a modern state where the rights and liberties of the individual are protected
by law, its social norms are formalized in its constitution (whether written or
unwritten). No political technique is officially permitted to infringe the constitution,
although in practice of course it may. But as well as legal controls, there are
also numerous purely traditional rules which have to be taken account of in the
mechanics of politics.
Social norms are binding on those active in politics. Whether an individual
accepts them as binding on himself or conforms to them purely for pragmatic
reasons is another question. From this point of view, the attitudes of politicians
are of minor importance. As long as they do not infringe the society’s political
norms and conduct their political affairs within this framework, it does not
matter whether they are motivated by concern for the prosperity of their country
or by the pursuit of power. As Kant pointed out, the norms of politics have
nothing to do with morality. They are ethical (sittliche) norms, reflecting
social,
not moral, values.
In countries where human rights are constitutionally guaranteed, politicians
must accept them as defining the limits on (and opportunities for) their own
actions. They function as the ethical framework for all political activity. This
does not mean, however, that human rights also have the status of moral
maxims governing this activity. Those engaged in politics are not compelled
to take into account whether or not their decisions promote the liberty, equality,
etc., of every citizen. All that they need to consider are simply the reactions of those who elected them, of their supporters,
and of other power groups, together with their possible counteraction. They must, that is, take into account whether their
decisions will provoke protests which make it impossible to put them into effect and which might jeopardize their own positions
of power. It is clear, therefore, that the ethical norms expressed in a bill of human rights can be accepted as maxims of
wise political conduct, and that they are in fact usually accepted as such. One may suspect that in countries where human
rights are guaranteed, political morals are in a much healthier state than in those where this is not the case. However, it
cannot be inferred from this that political morality is in an equally healthy state. This can be seen most clearly in the
field of foreign politics. Despite the fact that every member of the United Nations has committed itself in writing to respect
human rights, the majority of states have today still not constitutionally recognized the existence of human rights, still
less enacted legislation to guarantee them. It is not surprising that these empty gestures, which
commit countries to nothing, have failed to lead to the provision of agreed social
norms in international affairs. Even in democratic states, where the recognition
of human rights imposes moral restrictions inside the country and has made
possible the formulation of maxims of wise political conduct, no such maxims can
be applied in the sphere of foreign politics because of the lack of any social morals
which could result in a similar commitment. Consequently, the democratic
regulation of foreign politics by maxims of wise conduct is inconceivable at
present. Only when politics is prepared to follow moral maxims will there be any
likelihood of introducing truly democratic politics in the field of international
relations. It will, however, be necessary to assume here that foreign and domestic
politics cannot be completely separated from one another. We can, moreover,
take seriously Marx’s dictum that no nation can be free that oppresses peoples.
In
the same spirit I should like to put forward the following theoretical suggestion:
a
consistently democratic form of politics is not characterized solely by the fact
that
a state recognizes human rights as constituting social norms and chooses its
maxims for wise conduct accordingly. It must also conduct its political affairs in
accordance with a set of moral maxims.
We have assumed that both our contradictory suggestions about the relationship
between politics and morality agree in asserting that politics today is simply
techne. We
have rejected this assertion as false. We have concluded that, with
some exceptions, political activity is governed by social norms and that its
technical rules must also be compatible with these norms. In acknowledging that
constitutional guarantees of human rights define moral norms and the legal status
of democratic politics we also refuted the suggestion that politics should simply
obey technical rules. We also made the theoretical suggestion that a consistently
democratic form of politics should accept certain moral maxims. Accordingly, it
would seem that we share the view that politics should be founded on morality.
However, this is not the case.
A moralizing form of politics has the aim of improving mankind and the world.
If one wants to improve mankind, one must have a clear conception of what true
virtue is. True virtue relates to mankind as a whole, all aspects of man’s
behaviour both in public and in private life. Moralizing politics opts for a particular
way of life and is prepared to demand its general adoption, at least within a
given country or political movement. Modern society, however, is characterized
by its heterogeneity. It contains a multiplicity of customs and individual options
which is increased further by the various cultural traditions within a country.
Moralizing politics is antagonistic towards all cultures, movements, classes,
even individuals, with divergent life-styles. It can, therefore, only achieve its
goal – of improving mankind in accordance with its conception of virtue – by resorting to
force. Moralizing and oppression go hand in hand in politics. The history of
puritanical political systems, and particularly of Jacobinism (which openly
declared its belief in morality and in terror), speaks for itself.
Moralizing politics has two distinct traditions. One upholds a conception of
virtue and a way of life founded on religion and is pre-enlightenment, even
though it has re-emerged in our own time (in, for example, forms of politics based
on Islamic teachings on virtue). The other crystallized out in the course of a series
of revolutions (as a reaction against Liberalism) and can be characterized as a
retreat from enlightenment. In this second case it can also happen that the
morally evil, in Hegel’s use of the term, functions as the basis of politics.
If one
looks at the slogans of the two most destructive dictatorships of this century,
‘Honour is loyalty,’ ‘The party is our reason, our honour, our
conscience,’ one
can understand immediately how morality and terror can be associated. Moralizing
politics is certainly no less cruel than machiavellian politics. The proposition
that the end justifies the means is part of its ideological arsenal rather than part
of
the mechanics of politics (which does not recognize ‘sacred’ goals, only
‘advantageous’ ones). If one were faced with the choice between political techne and moralizing politics,
it would certainly cause less suffering to human beings if one were to choose the former.
It is clear from what has been said so far that any theoretical proposal that one
accept certain moral maxims for political conduct is far from being a plea for all
politics to be founded on morality. But before we begin analyzing what moral
principles a form of politics not founded on morality might have, we must
first
examine carefully another area of political activity.
In politics, one can either follow certain laid-down principles or act in a purely
pragmatic fashion. These two possibilities can also be combined in various ways.
Pragmatic politics is the politics of adaptation. It involves skillful manoeuvring
on the part of several power groups or lobbies, each attempting to safeguard their
own position of power. Programmes and objectives must be regarded here purely
as instruments of power. A pragmatic politician will never voluntarily retire from
office simply because he cannot push through his policies; instead, he will give
his support to some other policy. Pragmatic politics is often termed, with
justification, ‘empirical’ (since it responds with great sensitivity
to experience).
Sometimes it is even called ‘bureaucratic’ (since it risks nothing
and develops
no new initiatives). However, this label is inapt. Nowadays, all types of political
activity require some form of bureaucratic apparatus, pragmatic politics no less
than politics motivated by principles.
‘Principled’ politics sets out to put into effect programmes, plans,
and aims that
have been conceived in advance. A politician committed to certain principles will
resign if he cannot achieve his objectives, and will wait until the time is ripe
for
their achievement; in a state which does not recognize liberal values, he will
simply achieve his objectives by force, if he can. The political principles
themselves can differ greatly, not simply in kind but also in scope. They may
include the complete restructuring of economic or foreign policies or changes in
party policy, or they may relate to a single specific objective or decision. This
does not mean, of course, that ‚principled‘ politicians are indifferent
to power,
only that they always regard power as ‘power to achieve something’.
It is open to debate whether pragmatic or principled politics is ‘better.’
Viewed
strictly from a standpoint of a morality based on individual conscience, principled
politics is preferable. Which of the two kinds of political action proves to be
better depends probably on whether the politician lives in a democratic or an
undemocratic state. In an undemocratic country, principled politics may cause
more harm than pragmatic politics. If one poses the question of how politics
could be regulated by moral maxims, however, one is forced to come down on the
side of principled politics. But it must always be born in mind that principled
politics is not necessarily superior to purely pragmatic politics. The principles
which a politician should be encouraged to adopt as moral maxims are, therefore,
those which can in general ensure the superiority of principled politics over
purely pragmatic political action.
When we examined principled politics we were talking about political and not
moral principles.
Principled politics has just one moral implication – loyalty to a
chosen set of principles. The principles themselves are not moral in origin. If it
were possible to formulate universal political principles which were capable of
acting as principles in all forms of democratic politics (however diverse their
individual goals) and which could function as maxims of a universal morality as
well, then,
theoretically at least, our problem would be solved. It is easy to see
why.
If politics is founded on morality, it is open to it to use any means to achieve
whatever desired ‘improvement’ in mankind it sets as its aim. But no
single way
of life (no system of moral values) is universal, even if it claims universality.
Accordingly, its political principles are ideological and essentially undemocratic,
simply because it generalizes particular values and therefore prevents, if it can,
the expression and representation of all other value systems. Indeed, it excludes
and suppresses them. However, if it is not a particular value system that is
(wrongly) universalized, but the political principles themselves, then those
political principles become binding on all men, whatever their value system or
way of life. Political principles can only be universalized if they assume a
plurality of value systems and ways of life. In order for political principles to
function as moral maxims, they must accord in form (though not it content) with
all moral decisions.
What does it mean to follow universal principles (as moral maxims)? Certainly
not (or not only) to declare one‘s belief in them. It means rather: (a) to
consider
whether political decisions are in accord with those principles, (b) a readiness
to
base one’s arguments for any political decision upon those universal principles,
and (c) to brand as illegitimate all political decisions taken by individual citizens
(or nations) if it is proved that they contradict those principles.
It seems as though we have worked out something quite abstract, Utopian, and
hypothetical. This not so, however. All we have done has been to reconstruct,
albeit with some modifications, a procedure that has been in existence and put into
practice sporadically for more than two hundred years. It would be more
accurate to say that we were arguing in the spirit of a democratic tradition.
A glance at the Declaration of Independence will be sufficient to make this
clear.
The Declaration begins with the statement that the political decision which
it
represents requires a reasoned justification. The way this is expressed, however,
makes it relevant to more than just this one political decision. It has something
to
say about all similar decisions: ‘When in the course of human events,
it becomes
necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands… a decent respect
to the
opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes….’ The
Declaration goes on to list the universal principles which are also valid as moral
maxims. All
governments should safeguard the three ‘unalienable’ human rights,
as well as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. If this does not happen,
then
‘it is their right (that of the people), it is their duty, to throw
off such government
and to provide new guards for their future security.’ It is clear from the
reference
to ‘duty,’ which cannot mean political duty since it calls for the overthrow
of the
existing political order, that the three universal political principles were also
conceived of as moral maxims. However since the Declaration goes on to list
the
grievances of the American colonies against the English Crown and these turn
out all to be political in nature, it is clear that they were devised primarily as
political principles. The nature of the colonies’ grievances confirms that
the
Crown had persistently violated all universal political principles. That is
sufficient to justify the specific political act proposed here. And the conclusion
reads: ‘We, therefore . . . solemnly publish and declare, That these United
Colonies are, and of Right ought to be, Free and Independent States.’
This is a masterpiece of political deduction, without a trace of ideological
demagogy. Of course, the argumentation depends on the truth (correctness) of
the initial premise. However, the truth (and correctness) of the initial premise
requires no justification. It reads: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident,
that allmen are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain
inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.’
It was appropriate in the Declaration to assume the universal principles of
politics
(which also have the status of moral maxims) as self-evident, not simply because
it
restated a view which was already widely held at the time or because such a
Declaration could not concern itself with philosophical problems, but also for
more profound reasons.
One could criticize the text of the Declaration on the grounds that its starting
point
is wrong. First of all, the assertion that all men are created equal and with
unalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness was by no means
self-evident at the end of the eighteenth century. It was only self-evident within
the context of a particular view of the world. It is, moreover (according to our
view) a false assertion as it stands. We shall return to the second point later.
As
for the first point, however, I believe that it is impossible to improve substantially
upon the views expressed in the Declaration, still less to evade them. It
is true that
the political principles of the initial premise are only self-evident with a specific
political world view. Clearly, however, it becomes impossible to formulate any
general principles of political conduct at all as soon as one starts looking in detail
at all possible forms of political conduct. In speaking at all about universal
principles, one can only mean a form of politics which can be related to universal
political principles. The title of this essay is: ‘Moral maxims of democratic
polities.’ In fact, it is anything but self-evident that politics must
be democratic;
but within the framework of this analysis it is assumed to be so. It is the axiom
of
our argument. So here too I am following in the footsteps of those who drew up
the Declaration. And I believe that the idea of replacing the initial formulation,
‘sacred and undeniable,’ by ‘unalienable’ in the final version
of the Declaration
involved a similar insight on the part of its authors and that the fundamental
reason for it is to be found in the axiomatic validity of the principles.
In proposing universal principles for a democratic system of politics, I must reemphasize
that they are only reformulations of traditional democratic principles.
But one can only reformulate principles which have already at some time been
regarded as self-evident, if only within one particular world view. They have to
be reformulated in order to make them more plausible in the context of contemporary
philosophy and, by so doing, to be able to acquit them of the
charge that they are ‘wrong.’ At the same time, the principles can only
be reformulated in the spirit of contemporary philosophy if they are subjected
to some form of social radicalization.
The principles are as follows:
1. Act as if the personal liberty of every citizen and the independence of every
nation depended on your actions. This is the moral maxim and political principle
of liberty.
2. Act in accordance with all the social rules and laws, whose infringement,
even in the case of just one citizen (or one nation) you would disapprove of. This
is the moral maxim and political principle of (political) equality.
3. In all your political dealings assume that all persons are capable of making
political decisions. So submit your plans for public discussion and act in
accordance with the outcome of those discussions. If you cannot do so, resign all
your positions of power and set about convincing others of the correctness of your
opinions. This is the moral maxim and political principle of (rational) equality.
4. Recognize all human needs, as long as they can be satisfied without coming
into conflict with the maxims of liberty, political equality, and rationality. This
is
the moral maxim and political principle of justice.
5. In all your dealings support those classes and nations which are enduring
the greatest suffering, as long as this does not conflict with the other maxims of
political conduct. This is the moral maxim and political principle of equity.
These are, in my view, the universal moral principles of democratic politics.
They are, at the same time, moral maxims since they can act as guide-lines for all
moral decisions. Using these maxims we can also formulate the basic law of
democratic politics: Act in a way which allows all free and rational human beings
to assent to the political principles of your actions.
This basic law assumes the possibility of a consensus omnium, not a consensus
in all political decisions but a consensus about the political principles of such
decisions. Simply because free and rational human brings assent to the principles
of decisions and actions, this does not prevent them from questioning, criticizing,
or even opposing an individual decision or action. A consensus omnium will
be the
exception rather than the rule. If individuals were forced to reach such a consensus,
this would establish a norm which would be firstly unrealizable, secondly unnecessary from the point of view of democratic
politics, and thirdly
undesirable. Firstly, there can often be not just one but several decisions which
are in accord with the first, second, fourth, and fifth principles, and in a society
with many heterogeneous ways of life and different needs and desires it is highly
improbable that everyone would arrive at the same decision. Decisions are in any
case always taken under pressure of time. The third principle of democratic
politics enjoins that in cases where there are several options and time is pressing,
the decision of the majority as it emerges through discussion should be accepted.
The principle of majority rule would often be criticized, but there is no way of
avoiding it completely. This can be unpleasant and frustrating for the minority,
but whenever decisions have to be taken quickly one has to say: vox populi vox
dei. In
practice, a consensus omnium assumes homogeneity in a particular decision or action and does not leave room for discontent
or trial and error, a state of affairs which is far from desirable. However, if all that is required is a consensus
omnium that
the political principles must be obeyed, then unanimity and
disagreement need not be thought of as mutually exclusive.
To avoid misunderstandings, it should be emphasized that the basic law is not
meant to be a legitimizing principle in the stricter sense of the word. The requirement
that one act in a way which allows all free and rational human beings to assent to the political principles of your actions
is not only binding on governments but on all those engaged in political activities, that is, it is formulated in a spirit
of absolute reciprocity. If all men can and should act legitimately, that is, in accordance with the basic law, there can
be no legitimation in the narrower sense of the term, namely the legitimation of domination. And then there is no such
thing as domination.
It may seem as if we have become lost in daydreams and tangled up in contradictions.
We were talking about politics, about a form of action in which
power is the overriding factor. But at the same time we assumed the existence of
a
basic law of political conduct which precluded domination of one group or
individual by another. We have also generalized the concept of legitimate
political conduct in such a way that it can apply to all those engaged in political
activities. In Max Weber’s classical formula, however, authority is identified
with
legitimate power. I should like to suggest here that Weber’s third form of
legitimation of domination, namely legitimation by laws, is highly ambiguous
and can be interpreted in accordance with our own analyses.
‘Domination‘ describes a relationship between ordering and obeying. If
all men
obey the laws (or just one single law) equally, then the word ‘domination’
is
simply a metaphor without any social content. In saying this, I in no way wish to
deny that domination cannot be legitimized by laws, only to emphasize that
legitimation by laws does not necessarily mean the legitimation of domination.
In our analysis of the universal principles (moral maxims) of democratic
politics nothing was said about the structure of any society. It goes without saying
that universal principles and the basic law can only in practice act as guidelines
for conduct if all persons (and all nations) have an equal opportunity to participate
in the decision-making process. If this condition is not fulfilled, they function
only as moral maxims which are binding only in the consciences of some
individuals. It is an old truth that property relations determine whether men are
equal enough to enjoy equal freedom. Aristotle regarded (relative) equality of wealth as the first prerequisite for equality
of freedom. It is tempting to contrast ‘being’ and ‘having’ as the two possible forms
of human existence, but only birds can be free without owning any possessions, and then only in the realm of allegory. I have
discussed in detail in another article the proposition that all persons must be
property-owners in order to be free, and merely repeat it here. In the modern
industrialized world, universal ownership of property is only conceivable in the
form of collective ownership, of self-government. If no single individual enjoys
such overwhelming economic power that he can force his political will upon
others, and if everyone enjoys sufficient economic power that they can direct
some of their energies towards the political decision-making process, then one is
only ‘obeying’ laws, not another individual or group, and then it becomes
conceivable that one is obeying the universal political principles and the basic
law. The result is a society without a ruling elite.
This does not mean, however, that there exists such a thing as a society without
power. It
would be attractive to imagine a society in which power did not exist,
but this would also be a society without politics.
If one defines power as the ability of some individuals or social classes to
impose their will upon others, then one cannot speak of power in a society in
which universal political principles are binding on everyone. But this is too
narrow a definition of power. It is still power when some individuals are
empowered to refuse to others the right to act in accordance with their own will
or to satisfy their needs. And in this sense the universal principles are not in
any
way inconsistent with the exercise of power.
If after public debate it is agreed that a decision may be reached on the basis of
majority opinion (in accordance with the third general maxim), then the minority
is forbidden to assert its will (in accordance with the first maxim). The fourth
maxim enjoins the recognition of all human needs (as long as their satisfaction is
not inconsistent with any of the other maxims), but not the satisfaction of all
these needs. The relative priority of the needs of different social groups is also
a
matter for public discussion. So at any given time, there must be some groups
whose needs cannot be satisfied. This means, on the one hand, that power is
decentralized, and on the other hand that power conflicts are resolved by rational
discussion (in Habermas’ sense of the word). It certainly does not mean that
there
is no longer any such thing as power.
Moreover, a system of politics committed to universal political principles
(moral maxims) excludes neither pragmatism nor political techne. The ability
to
propose rational compromises acceptable to all concerned during the course of
a discussion demands certain pragmatic skills. And once a decision has been
reached in accordance with the principles, certain learnable rules must be obeyed
and abilities brought into play when putting it into effect. These may, with
justification, be described as the technical skills of politics. What a system of
politics based on these principles does exclude are ideological and moralizing
politics, since adherence to these principles makes it impossible to set up any
individual way of life or goal as an absolute, ‘the general good’ or
‘all that is
desirable.’
The theoretical proposal that universal principles be accepted as binding moral
maxims for a democratic system of politics, therefore, does not seem Utopian at
all, even less so since the principles themselves have been worked out in the
course of a long tradition stretching back more than two hundred years. It is also
clear, however, that today they can only have force as purely moral maxims
founded on individual conscience, since the preconditions for their universalization
as political principles are lacking in society. They do not exist even in liberal-democratic
countries where human rights and liberties are respected, as a result of property relations in them, and they are completely
absent from the various forms of despotism, where no trace of such principles has yet emerged. In foreign affairs, the establishment
of the principles present many difficulties. The inequality in property relations is even more striking here than within individual
states. Political power is more centralized too, and liberal-democratic states are
confronted more frequently with despotic states than with other liberal-democratic
ones. Neither from a philosophical nor a political point of view can we simply acknowledge
the fact that liberal-democratic states are impotent. Although,
on the one hand, it would be suicidal to urge that force (that is, the power to compel
others to do something) should be completely eliminated from the
arsenal of present-day political strategies, it would, on the other hand,
be even more suicidal to abandon the norms represented by universal
political principles and by so doing aid and abet the enemies of all democratic traditions.
You cannot force anyone to be free. You can, however, force them into a
situation in which they have to listen to rational arguments and meet them
with
counterarguments. If one forces others into a situation where they have to share
power equally for a short period, the way is then open for rational argument.
This is not a new procedure; it occurs every day when striking workers force
employers to listen to their grievances. From the point of view of democracy,
however, power that has no other purpose than the destruction or suppression of
another group cannot be tolerated. Within a liberal state which respects human
rights and liberties, it is by no means impossible to introduce the above procedure
into all political affairs. The same procedure is much more difficult to apply to
foreign affairs. There is, however, no alternative as long as one is determined not to give up hope that democratic politics
can become universally established, and if one does not want to see the world edge nearer the catastrophe of a third world
war. The principle of such a system of politics would not, of course, be identical with the basic law of democratic politics
nor with its principles. It would be: in all your political decisions and activities strive for a balance of power which can
bring about the universal acceptance of the political principles (as moral maxims). From the point of view of democratic traditions
and the democratic ethos, the acceptance of such principles would not only be honest (principled), but it would also make
good pragmatic sense. By ‘good pragmatic sense’ I mean that all other options
can only lead to the self-destruction of all democratic traditions.
From Praxis International, (1:1) April 1981. Redigitized by Central and Eastern European Online Library – www.ceeol.com