Bertrand Russell's Realist Moralism on International Law and the World State (pt. 1)
During the first world war, Bertrand Russell (1872–1970), published a collection of essays (1916) Principles of Social Reconstruction (in America published as Why we Fight) that in the “preface” Russell claims he wrote in 1915.* The use of ‘Principles’ in the title hints, despite the essayistic character, at the ambition of the work. In fact, in the first paragraph of the first essay, “The Principle of Growth,” Russell announces that he wishes to offer a new “political philosophy more capable of standing erect in a time of crisis than the philosophy of traditional Liberalism.”
To what degree this is supposed to indicate a wholesale rejection of traditional Liberalism or just the part that is crooked in time a of crisis is unclear. I put it like that because these Principles revive an idea in the second essay, “The State,” that we find in the founding generation of liberalism of Adam Smith, Bentham, and Kant: "A world-State or federation of States.” (p. 47) Below I quote the full passage he first discusses it.
Now, there had been (recall) renewed interest in European even global federalism by left liberals (see, especially, J.A. Hobson 1902 Imperialism, Part II, Chapter II.) And it is pretty clear that (recall) socialists (Kautsky ca 1911) had also explored the possibility of “the United States of the Civilised World.” So, I don’t want to claim that Russell, who is self-consciously drawing on syndicalists ideas is especially original. (In fact, libertarians like David Gordon, while writing for a Mises Institute, have had admiring things to say (here) about this essay.)
However, there is an interesting wrinkle in Russell’s position that I find worth exploring a bit. Let me quote one of the key passages first, before I discuss it:
The State has one purpose which is on the whole good, namely, the substitution of law for force in the relations of men. But this purpose can only be fully achieved by a world-State, without which international relations cannot be made subject to law. And although law is better than force, law is still not the best way of settling disputes. Law is too static, too much on the side of what is decaying, too little on the side of what is growing. So long as law is in theory supreme, it will have to be tempered, from time to time, by internal revolution and external war. These can only be prevented by perpetual readiness to alter the law in accordance with the present balance of forces. If this is not done, the motives for appealing to force will sooner or later become irresistible. A world-State or federation of States, if it is to be successful, will have to decide questions, not by the legal maxims which would be applied by the Hague tribunal, but as far as possible in the same sense in which they would be decided by war. The function of authority should be to render the appeal to force unnecessary, not to give decisions contrary to those which would be reached by force.—Russell “The State” p. 47-48
First, for Russell the world-state is, in fact, the completion or telos of the (acceptable) function of the state. That is, to make law regulate the relations among people. Earlier in the essay, Russell had already argued that “law is less pernicious than force employed capriciously. If international law could acquire sufficient hold on men’s allegiance to regulate the relations of States, a very great advance on our present condition would have been made.” (p. 34) So, it is natural to expect that for Russell a world federation governed by law is the ultimate political end (especially because of the high desirability to end war). So, one might expect to see in Russell the ancestor of contemporary liberal justice-first cosmopolitanism.
However, and somewhat surprising, Russell explicitly rejects the idea that the establishment (and the enforcement) of international law is the ultimate end of a world state. He has two kinds of argument for this position: one I call ‘the dynamic argument’ and the other ‘a realist argument.’ In Russell the two arguments are treated as the same side of the coin, and why this is so will be readily clear. But it is worth treating them separately.
The dynamic argument is centered on the idea that the articulation and establishment of laws systematically trails what is progressive and vital (a term Russell frequently uses in this collection of essays) in society. So, if one were committrd to the rule of law as the ultimate ideal for a pacific federation, one would be aiming for permanent friction and so permanent potential conflict
Second, the realist argument treats justice and law as worthy ideals, but if these ideals are systematically out of kilter with the existing balance of balance in a society, then veto-players in society will find it not in their interest to adhere to the laws or rules of justice. I use ‘veto-players’ here because something like this insight is lurking behind the role of veto-powers in the UN security council which makes internal law. (I am not claiming Russell’s writings influenced this, but there is at least recognition of Russell’s insight.)
Russell recognizes that the second argument “may be thought by some to be immoral.” And that the point “of civilization should be to secure justice, not to give the victory to the strong.” (p. 48) Russell goes on to make some concessionary remarks to this love of justice, but then he points out that “what is desirable in a Legislature, is, not that it should decide by its personal sense of right, but that it should decide in a way which is felt to make an appeal to force unnecessary.” (p. 48)
So, the real, somewhat scandalous insight lurking in Russell’s two arguments is that a world state or a system of international justice is only itself secure if it does not violate the perceived interests of the strongest powers. And somewhat surprisingly if one forgets this insight one is less likely to eliminate conflicts, that is, war.
Russell’s stance presupposes a kind of functional analysis of the point of international law — the elimination of war — and so is willing to allow deviations from pure justice (“the legal maxims”) in the decision-making of a world-state if there is another, better way to achieve that end (because going to war would be unnecessary). Lurking in Russell, then, is a kind of recognition that while the law binds us all, the way it binds the stronger powers in (international) society should be conducive to the interests of the stronger power for any system of law to be stable and enduring.
There is a delicate line here, of course, between merely cheering on the mighty and the recognition that for a system of law to be functional it also has to be compatible with the perceived rights of the mighty. Too often those that recognize the latter desideratum exhibit a lamentable coldness in the service of virtue and justice. But aiming for a system of international law wholly out of sync with the balance of power is a pointless exercise if one wishes to eliminate and not encourage war.
This insight recurs later in the same essay, when in a different (more domestic) context, Russell notes that he thinks “justice, by itself, is, like law, too static to be made a supreme political principle: it does not m when it has been achieved, contain any seeds of new life or any impetus to development. For this reason, when we wish to remedy an injustice, it is important to consider whether, in so doing, we shall be destroying the incentive to some form of vigorous action which on the whole useful to the community.” So, the point of political life, for Russell, is not just the pacification of possible conflicts, but also the growth of vitality (whatever that may be) and creativity in society. And law on this view is often too stifling of such growth. This is why Russell thinks often it is better to forego law and tackle issues by way of private associations. But that’s for another time.
*I am in a reading group with two distinguished scholars of the history of analytic philosophy, Sander Verhaegh and Alex Klein, and so this digressions reflects their insights, too.