David Pan

ExcerptDiscussions of China and the Chinese Communist Party, and in this case our Telos engagements, have challenged us all to carefully read the tea leaves of Chinese economic, political, and academic developments in order to understand their role and impact in the world. As with the rest of the world, the Telos circle is divided on how to evaluate the most recent developments, even as it remains committed to engaging with as many perspectives as possible, both within and outside of China. Certainly, the hope is to arrive at better understandings of what is happening in China as well as of Chinese perspectives on their own domestic developments and on the world. As last issue’s introduction demonstrated, it has been difficult to maintain a single conversation in the face of deep divides about the nature of the CCP and China more generally.

ExcerptChina saturates Western media and academic discourse, invoked incessantly as a force remaking the world, while the political and social-theoretical ideas through which China thinks, judges, and interprets that world remain largely unheard. Western discourses on China exhibit a persistent tendency toward objectification and reification. Chinese phenomena figure as objects of analysis, yet such analyses rarely delve into their subjective-interpretative depth. Were they to do so, they would encounter these “objects” as subjects who actively make sense of their worlds, carrying ideas, ideals, and self-conceptions embedded in distinct interpretive traditions. At the same time, Western media and academics are often unaware that their own views are actively influenced by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which spends $10 billion per year on international propaganda efforts that include advertising, news production, and social media campaigns.1.

ExcerptOne difficulty in postliberal discussions of liberalism is that the word liberalism encompasses at least three different conceptions, some of which conflict with each other. In opposing both state and market in Telos 212, John Milbank and Adrian Pabst critique two versions of liberalism that confront each other in our left-vs.-right political divisions today. On the one hand, the most immediate meaning of liberalism is the leftist, statist policies that today support various forms of socialist engineering, including the welfare state, the identity politics of race and gender, and the diversity, equity, and inclusion policies that undermine merit-based decision-making. Milbank and Pabst oppose this form of liberalism, which leads to statist interventions to promote equity, because such policies undermine communities. On the other hand, Milbank and Pabst also criticize the second version of liberalism, neoliberalism, which promotes free markets and trade. They see this form of liberalism as a reduction of everything to profit and thus a turning away from ethics, which allows impersonal market forces to undermine communities.

ExcerptAs we survey the landscape of war today, it has become truer than ever that hot wars are a consequence of culture wars. Trump’s support for Israel against Iran contrasts with the discourse on college campuses that opposes Israel as a white supremacist, settler-colonial state. In opposing the most egalitarian liberal democracy in the Middle East, this left-wing perspective poses a major threat to the liberal values that the United States has always stood for. But the anti-Israel protests at colleges represent only the tip of the iceberg of a more widespread form of hierarchical rule that has established itself globally through a “new class” of managers. Looked at in this way, the culture war at U.S. universities will have far-reaching consequences for the future of the world. At stake are not merely research funding and tax breaks, but a social structure that privileges expert opinion over popular rule in all areas of our society. Colleges and universities are the key to this system, as the social sciences train the professionals that go on to manage the lives of the uncredentialed, while the humanities develop the perspectives that justify this form of managerial rule. In this issue of Telos, we consider how today’s culture wars over universities will shape the global future.

ExcerptIn this special section on the prospects for Trump’s second presidency, Jay Gupta and Paul Kahn worry about Trump’s expansion of executive power and the consequent threat to the rule of law.1 They have support from Steven Levitsky and Lucan A. Way, who argue that “U.S. democracy will likely break down during the second Trump administration,” primarily through “the politicization and weaponization of government bureaucracy.”2 Yet such an expansion of executive power was in fact already a significant problem during the Obama and Biden administrations, both of which ruled by executive order, enforced laws selectively, and weaponized the bureaucracy. Trump’s attempt to undermine birthright citizenship by executive order is comparable to Biden’s attempts at canceling student loans, later overturned by the Supreme Court. Where Biden neglected to enforce immigration law, Trump has chosen not to immediately enforce the TikTok ban. In these examples, Trump has not diverged significantly from the practices of previous administrations.

ExcerptFrustrating the hopes of cosmopolitans and globalists, state power is back. Rather than imagining a replacement of sovereignty with law, political debates now revolve around the particular forms that state sovereignty might take. Even Europe, long seeing itself as the place from which a new international legal order might expand its reach, is reinvesting in military power to protect its sovereignty from the threats posed by Russia, China, and, in some ways, the United States. Yet this realization about the continuing centrality of the state does not mean an abandonment of the moral imperatives and prejudices of the people. On the contrary, state power is being recognized as the instrument through which the people can exercise their will, even as the state places constraints on popular sovereignty. The essays in this issue of Telos consider the ways in which state power interacts with popular attitudes and social institutions in order to establish the basis for sovereignty and law.

ExcerptIn The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy, Carl Schmitt describes the multiple ways in which parliamentarism can be beset by forces that undermine its coherence and legitimacy.1 Writing in the context of a fledgling Weimar Republic and few historical examples of successful transitions to republican and democratic government, he analyzes the structures of parliamentary democracy in order to evaluate its claims to legitimacy as well as the practical threats to its endurance as a system of government. His thinking was premised upon his previous work on forms of dictatorship on the one hand and the idea of political theology on the other. By linking democracy to dictatorship and popular sovereignty to representation, Schmitt indicates how parliamentary democracy, though appealing to an ideal of rational discussion, nevertheless depends on a mythic basis for its legitimation.

ExcerptIt hardly needs mentioning that liberal democracy is facing a number of threats today, both internal and external. Even if the political parties in the United States cannot agree on the main source of the threats, they both believe that democracy is in danger. Democrats point to the January 6 Capitol riot and Trump’s role in it as examples of the way in which liberal democratic procedures are being directly attacked. Republicans point to the Democratic-backed court cases against Trump as well as the FBI’s favoritism toward Democrats in their public announcements before elections as evidence that the legal system and the administrative state are being used to shut out political opponents. Both parties point to violations of free speech rights at college campuses, yet they also both seek to establish limits to those rights in defense of liberal democratic values.

The Metaphysics of the Decision Recent attempts to merge democratic theory with political theology have had to face a fundamental difficulty in the approach to sovereignty. While Carl Schmitt bases sovereignty in the decision on the exception, this idea runs counter to the democratic idea that sovereignty resides with the people and therefore cannot be exercised by a single authoritative leader. This problem leads Jeffrey Robbins, for instance, to attempt to imagine political theology without sovereignty. For him, such an elimination of sovereignty is necessary for democracy because the idea of a single sovereign contradicts the democratic…

ExcerptAs we consider the recent turmoil at our colleges and universities, it seems nearly incomprehensible that college students, faculty, and many politicians have been supporting Hamas’s terrorism against Israel. The disconnect between the anti-Israel and the pro-Israel perspectives has revealed to the world both that there is a profound rift in our educational establishment and that what is happening is symptomatic of a larger problem that has grown over many decades. Since the problem has exceeded the limits of the academy and has begun to influence foreign affairs, in ways that have undermined allies such as Israel, and domestic policy, for instance in our approach to the freedom of speech, the problem of higher education is in fact a problem of our entire constitutional order. I would like to describe the problems at our colleges and universities, some of the causes, and possible strategies for reversing the deterioration of higher education.

Because Carl Schmitt’s work on political theology and representation in politics presuppose a mythic basis for political order, Hamlet or Hecuba is important for providing a theory of the relationship between tragic myth and politics. If much of his work involves an attempt to understand the representational aspect of politics, Schmitt’s foray into Shakespeare criticism rejects a kind of art that is divorced from political concerns. Politics underlies the tragic effect of art by forcing the playwright to alter the plot to avoid politically determined taboos in a kind of self-censorship. In addition, this chapters argues, Schmitt develops a more aesthetic understanding of this political effect that accords better with Walter Benjamin’s idea that art can recapitulate the otherwise unspoken political exigencies of an epoch. In contrast to Benjamin’s argument in his Trauerspiel book, however, Schmitt’s theory of the relation of myth to politics rejects a modernization story in which myth gives way to reason.

ExcerptWe often have the experience of intuiting something without being able to precisely define what that intuition is. Sometimes this intuition leads to a more well-defined insight, and sometimes it might lead to some kind of action, even in the absence of clear conceptual definitions. Yet it is difficult to ascertain what kind of knowledge or awareness such intuitions consist of. What is an intuition as opposed to a defined concept of something? How seriously should we take such intuitions? Are they something separate and qualitatively different than concepts? Are they just fuzzy concepts? Do they really exist at all? These are crucial questions because they lead to conclusions about the status of concepts themselves. If the alternative to clear concepts is nothing at all, then the sociopolitical corollary would be that the alternative to conceptual knowledge and the holders of such knowledge would also be nothing at all. By contrast, if intuitions are separate from concepts and real, then expert knowledge might possibly have some deficiencies in comparison with intuitions. The essays in this issue of Telos explore in one way or another this question of the status of conceptual knowledge as opposed to intuitive awareness.

ExcerptOne of the most challenging aspects of the wars in Ukraine and Israel is the way in which the conflicts have been constantly shifting in form. In the first place, there is a conventional ground war between Russia and Ukraine, in which the identity and will of the two peoples are at stake. Yet Russia has used weapons supplied by Iran and North Korea, and Ukraine relies on NATO for its own supplies, indicating that this war depends on the maintenance and expansion of alliances. The stability of these alliances in turn depends on a combination of Realpolitik and shared values as the glue that holds them together. This logic of alliances motivates the energy war that Russia is waging with Europe, revealing that, unbeknownst to Europe, Russian energy policy over the last decade was an early form of the war. Similarly, the threat of nuclear war also tests the resolve of NATO, forcing it to consider the values at stake in the conflict. Is the war about Ukraine’s sovereignty or the principle of nation-state sovereignty itself? Is it about human rights for Ukrainians or the entire human rights project? For Russia, is it about self-defense or a pan-Slavic identity? Is it about the protection of Russian minorities in Ukraine or the threat of Western secularization? The answers to these questions will determine the will to fight on each side and thus the length and ferocity of the war.

ExcerptOld-style leftists have puzzled over how today’s left-liberals have abandoned traditional left-wing goals such as reducing class inequality and improving working-class standards of living. A key reason lies with the shifting of the politics of class. As Paul Piccone and Fred Siegel argued over thirty years ago in these pages,1 the problem of class is no longer a question of capitalists against workers. According to a recent Gallup poll, 61 percent of U.S. adults own stock,2 and such capitalist ownership, while a good way to increase wealth, is no longer the preserve of the ruling class and does not by itself confer much power. Rather, the ruling class that exercises real power consists not of owners but primarily of a bureaucratic class of managers in corporations, government, non-profits, universities, and the media.3 In spite of this shift, theories developed over a century ago continue to shape current leftist perspectives. Dominated by a socialist perspective, left-wing social policy fails to recognize and address the new contours of class division. As a result, it continues to employ a framework that is based on an anti-capitalist and anti-market agenda that tries to manipulate outcomes to promote socialist goals, precisely the methods of a managerial class.

ExcerptHuman rights organizations for the past few decades have generally attempted to promote international law against the principle of state sovereignty in order to establish human rights norms worldwide. This approach presumes the universality of human rights is in fundamental opposition to the principle of sovereignty because this principle can be used by governments to shield themselves from outside criticism. By contrast, the U.S. State Department’s Report of the Commission on Unalienable Rights has outlined an approach that emphasizes not just the compatibility between universal human rights and state sovereignty but even their dependence on each other.1 We see the results of this clash in the response to the Report by Kenneth Roth, executive director of Human Rights Watch and one of the expert witnesses during the commission’s proceedings.2 He sees in the Report’s foregrounding of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights “a frontal assault on international human rights law” because it shifts attention away from international law and toward more informal documents such as the Universal Declaration, which lays out a set of goals rather than legally binding commitments.

ExcerptOne of the most disappointing human rights debacles in the last few years was the withdrawal of U.S. forces from Afghanistan. For those who still take an interest,1 the human rights situation there has become horrendous, with Human Rights Watch documenting the denial of schooling and employment to women, extrajudicial killings, and torture.2 Moreover, in a severe rebuttal to those who supported the withdrawal, Taliban rule has created the conditions for a renewal of terrorist groups that can now develop and train in Afghanistan with impunity.3 There is also a good case to be made that the U.S. withdrawal there emboldened Putin to invade Ukraine, calculating that the United States and its allies no longer have the stomach for protracted conflicts in order to prevent human rights abuses. It may be that we have traded a low-grade conflict in Afghanistan for a high-intensity one in Ukraine.4 The lesson here is that the struggle for human rights, while beginning as a moral problem about our common responsibilities, can only be taken seriously when we consider its political ramifications. What do we owe to our fellow humans, and what sacrifices should we make in order to fulfill those responsibilities?

ExcerptFred Siegel’s passing on May 7th of this year was a profound loss for us all. A frequent guest and participant at our events, he contributed to Telos from the 1980s to the 2020 publication of his last book, The Crisis of Liberalism: Prelude to Trump. His ideas had a defining impact on Paul Piccone and the journal’s development, laying the foundations for what would become the Telos populist critique of liberalism. With a keen ear for the right turn of phrase to describe a complex idea, he titled his seminal essay for Telos “Is Archie Bunker Fit to Rule? Or: How Immanuel Kant Became One of the Founding Fathers.”1 Setting Archie Bunker as the representative of democracy against the intellectual Immanuel Kant, Siegel succinctly crystallized what was at stake as well as the audacity of his argument, especially for a Telos readership that was inclined to support German philosophy over American pop culture. In making his case for Archie Bunker, Siegel attacked with eloquence and perspicacity the intellectual foundations of liberal thinking.

ExcerptIn concluding that “All political action has then in itself a directedness towards knowledge of the good: of the good life, or of the good society,”1 Leo Strauss describes an essential link between power and values. Because the power to make decisions about our future cannot be separated from the fundamental goals and ultimate meaning of our lives, we cannot exercise power that would be divorced from some set of values. Even the narrowest understanding of self-interest must come to terms with one’s own mortality and the meaning of others for our own existence. Consequently, raw power does not exist, as it can only be exercised within some understanding of its purposes.