Vitoria, Hobbes, Democracy
Read a book of excerpts concerning Francisco de Vitoria (1500's) trying to argue he's a proponent of "Catholic democracy"...
Putting aside the fact that Vitoria was an unabashed supporter of Charles V and that the revisionist book itself was published in Franco's Spain, it's an interesting (at least thought provoking) argument! It baldly reveals the silent presupposition in most democratic theories that everyone's aspirations can be amalgamated into some single polity. It's silly, but framing as "democratic" Vitoria's argument that a monarch was given their power by the people (commonwealth), but that the commonwealth must give up their power and cannot rescind their mandatory choice makes the often silent tension between us as a rich many and "the people" as an alien abstraction (in this case embodied by our friend Carlos) really obvious!
public power is of God... just and legitimate... [and] cannot be abolished even by the consensus of men. If a man cannot give up his right and ability of self-defence and of using his own body for his own convenience because this power belongs to him by natural and divine law, by the same toke. the commonwealth also cannot by any means be deprived of its right and power to guard and administer its affairs against violent attack from its enemies, either from within or from without. - Political Writings of Vitoria, Cambridge, On Civil Power, p19
Isn't that such a fascinating quote?!
First, notice the resemblance to Hobbes. This might seem odd considering the fact that the theoretical framework underneath Vitoria's theory is extremely Thomist, and often relies on the distinction of power (potestas) and authority (autoritas) that Hobbes so hated. But I think there's a decent argument to be made that the argument of both Vitoria and Hobbes sketch out different sides of a very similar picture.
Vitoria's Catholic divinity emphasizes harmony, in the tradition of Thomism etc etc. Hobbes, on the other hand, emphasizes the conflict between the individual and the united polity; the latter is explicitly antithetical to the former. But this difference of emphasis is only because Vitoria places natural law as a physical other, something divine and literally outside, whereas Hobbes puts that same law within individuals, in the form of a self contradictory impulse for both immediate self interest and mediated order. Hobbes' state of nature, in his own theory, is a self-obliterating step, that necessarily results in the exact same orderly system as Vitoria, except without any of that spooky metaphysical talk Hobbes hated. On the other hand, the iron fist that Vitoria conceals so nicely in the glove of late Medieval Christian doctrine unveils itself whenever he speaks of those "seditious fellows" who "have denied that kingly power or any kind of rule by a single person comes from God, affirming that all sovereign, generals, and princes are tyrants and robbers of human liberty" (p 13), and especially heretics.
I'm not the first one to notice this. Cumberland, a fascinating contemporary of Hobbes, made a very similar argument.
Second, about Vitoria. He exists at a point in which the modern nation state was just beginning to emerge. While it may have existed in England by 1520, Spain was still an amalgamation of cities, currencies, flags and banners with a flemish dude stuck on top and a colonial project uncomfortably tacked to the side. (Marx's intro to his articles on the Spanish Civil War is a surprisingly good summary). Vitoria was himself a part of the tail end of the scholastic tradition, and saw himself reconciling doctrine that was increasingly inadequate to the world around him. He tried to explain colonialism with roman terms, and Portuguese slavery, a new novel horror, as a new instantiation of an ancient practice. Commercial expansion was framed by reinterpreting roman private law to be universal, and so on.
It's with Vitoria that we find one of the first (seemingly accidental!) descriptions of jus gentium as a law shared among nations, rather than a law shared among all people; he misquotes Gaius, substituting "among all men" (inter omnes homines) with "among all nations" (inter omnes gentes). But this division is only made clear with SuĂĄrez. (See Nussbaum's concise history, p63)
Finally, a tentative conclusion. It seems to me that if we reduce our definition of democracy to "majority vote" or whatever we've lost the drift of how the concept historically existed and what social configurations make it theoretically viable as such. We've concealed the more important issue- that such a legislative process, if it predominates, necessarily requires a particular relationship between the individual and the polity- a relationship in which the "democratic will" is certainly not the same as the will of the people as a rich multiplicity. The original material- the hopes and passions and ideals of the many- has to be mutilated in the democratic machine.
This mutilation isn't just mere compromise, either- even if (as a stupid hypothetical) only one person voted (the robinsonade of the democratic process), or more realistically a single individual had some kind of commanding position over the state, their personal social existence would not be the same as the political character mask that actually rules. No matter how benevolent or kind Charles V could have been, as a ruler those human intentions would be only a mediating factor at best.
So what's the alternative? How can harmonious social life not result in some kind of suffocating necessity, alleviated only by a Stoic acceptance or bourgeois indifference? How can people be taken as people? How can the dream of democracy overcome its actuality?