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Rhetoric in British Columbia : an analysis of its influence upon adult education and women Chambers, Carmel M. 1985

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RHETORIC I N BRITISH C O L U M B I A : A N A N A L Y S I S OF ITS I N F L U E N C E U P O N A D U L T E D U C A T I O N A N D W O M E N by C A R M E L M . C H A M B E R S A THESIS SUBMITTED IN P A R T I A L F U L F I L M E N T OF T H E R E Q U I R E M E N T S FOR T H E D E G R E E OF M A S T E R OF A R T S I N A D U L T E D U C A T I O N in T H E F A C U L T Y OF G R A D U A T E STUDIES Department of Administrative, Adult and Higher Education We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard T H E U N I V E R S I T Y OF BRITISH C O L U M B I A A U G U S T , 1985 © Carmel M . Chambers, 1985 In presenting t h i s thesis i n p a r t i a l f u l f i l m e n t of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of B r i t i s h Columbia, I agree that the Library s h a l l make i t f r e e l y available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of t h i s thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my department or by h i s or her representatives. I t i s understood that copying or publication of t h i s thesis for f i n a n c i a l gain s h a l l not be allowed without my written permission. Department of r W H A ^ U < ' r ^ The University of B r i t i s h Columbia 1956 Main Mall Vancouver, Canada V6T 1Y3 Date A B S T R A C T The topic under consideration is the rhetoric of British Columbia's political leaders and their strategic use of language whereby the government maintains its position of power and authority, implements its own ideological priorities, even if unpopular, and deprives the opposition of its ability to effectively mount a counter strategy. Aspects of political philosophies, human nature, scientific knowledge, education, and alternate feminist political philosophical views are presented. Brief sketches of Constitutionalism, The Rule of Law and' ideological bases of modern political systems, liberalism and socialism, are considered in the context of a political spectrum that spans communism to fascism. A n analytical framework adapted from the classical rhetoric of Aristotle and the new rhetoric of Kenneth Burke is used to examine the rhetoric and actions of the political leaders of British Columbia. Findings indicate that the strategies employed are effective and persuasive to the dominant majority of the populace. Components of strategy are identified which are deemed necessary in order that a democratically elected government may pursue successfully, a revolutionary political ideological change in its philosophy. Priorities and areas of social concern are identified in terms of their esteem for the present government leaders. The market principle and technology are the sacred cows. Education of a liberal kind, women, the welfare state, are a sow's ear. One recommendation is that adult education unite with movements that espouse and practice like philosophies so that it is strengthened and rejunevated in its mandate and not precipitated to bend to the prevailing political ideology. ii T A B L E OF CONTENTS LIST OF F I G U R E S v; A C K N O W L E D G E M E N T S vi CHAPTER I: INTRODUCTION 1 CHAPTER II: DEFINITIONS A N D BASIC CONCEPTS 9 Definitions 9 Political Philosophy and Human Nature 17 Political Philosophy and Scientific Knowledge 22 Science, Politics and Human Nature 24 Political Philosophy and Education 31 Democratic Principles and Basic Assumptions 35 Three Basic Assumptions 39 Human Nature and the Concept of Women 45 Feminism as Political Philosophy 48 Feminism and Women's Liberation 52 Women's Liberation and Political Philosophy 56 CHAPTER III: P O L I T I C A L IDEOLOGIES 60 Political doxa or Ideology 60 Constitutionalism 67 The Rule of Law 68 Liberalism 69 Conservatism 76 Socialism 89 Nationalism 117 Left, Right and Centre 136 CHAPTER IV: A N A L Y T I C A L F R A M E W O R K 143 Rhetorical Criticism 143 Classical Rhetoric 144 New Rhetoric 151 Recapitulation 164 CHAPTER V: T H E RHETORIC OF T H E L E A D E R S 171 An Analysis 171 Hierarchy 173 Guilt 175 Scapegoat 176 Sacrifice 182 Redemption 184 Salvation 186 A Vision of Unity 188 Criticism and Interference Criticism 191 A Trinity of sorts! 193 i i i . C H A P T E R VI: CONCLUSIONS, R E F L E C T I O N S , A N D R H E T O R I C A L ISSUES 195 Conclusions 196 Reflections 208 Rhetorical Issues for Contemplation 217 References 225 Index 239 LIST OF FIGURES Figure 1. A conventional political spectrum 136 Figure 2. The economic dimension of the political spectrum 139 Figure 3. Expressions of political state control 141 v . A C K N O W L E D G E M E N T S Friends, colleagues, and my children have offered their criticism, advice, and support during the many years I have spent in academe. I should like to acknowledge all of them here even though I can only mention a few by name. To Nancy Horsman and Jane Flick who helped me muddle through a number of difficult patches to emerge with spirit intact; to Bernie Hughes and Nan Johnson for the fun and learning in rhetoric; to Margaret Owen, Rae Dixon, J im Scarfe, and Bil l Mussell, my appreciation of your sagacity, patience, and unfailing humour during the process of my struggle with this text; to Tom Sork (renamed Thomas the Fair in his role as fifth business), for his invaluable guidance, astute observations, and his presence as an adult educator (and what of the printer Tom?); to Jeanne Young for her cheerfulness and thoughtful consideration toward the students; to Paz Buttedahl for her creative vitality; to Bil l Griffith for all his knowledgeable assistance—and those ten papers; to Peter van den Bosch for his puckish good humour and energy in helping me through the frustrations I experienced in the formatting of this work and the subsequent attractive, acceptable, appearance he achieved; to Gordon Selman for his kindness and understanding; to Joan, with her eagle eye, for her editorial work; to all my friends, unnamed but not unsung; and finally, to my children, Kar l and Mireille, to whom I owe much for their forbearance and insight during these past few years. I thank you, one and all. vi-1 CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION This time in society is a time of not knowing. It is like the time of anxiety before a creative event, you have no way of being sure that a creative event will follow, or how soon it will follow! The writer believes adult education has an important leadership role in fashioning a collaborative planetary consciousness, by which is meant two things: First, an ability to perceive, to think, and to interpret the experiences of life in many cultures, with an underlying implicit awareness that we are one species, and second, that the planet itself is a living being, that our roles are in relationship to that organism. Adult educators, in collaboration, can help redefine the nature of human existence which leads to the concrete application of skills, of knowledge, of ability, of human will and effort: to consubstantiate a culture that is planetary in its nature, not just international, but aligned with the realization that we are part of a living being, a living world. However, adult educators must come to grips honestly with this role and not indulge in the metaphorical dance and story-telling of Scheherazade: to stave off the end by continuing to spin out, endlessly, new stories, or endless new versions of the same story. As educators we must address the political rhetoric that keeps fabricating ambiguous language, or the rhetors who keep recombining or recontextualizing language as symbolic action, in order for the dominant group to retain their positions of dominance. A language and action which gets us 2 farther and farther away from direct experience, attempting to get farther away from our fears by throwing up new possibilities which are always based upon the quasi-certitude of the end, the staving off, not the examination of the causative factors, factors with which we have persistently and, effectively, camouflaged the use of conflict, and connotative and ambiguous language; a language that admits only band-aid measures as solutions. A language use which educators have consented to in bending to the demands of the controlling societal group's ideology. A recognition of complicity (or ignorance) in participating, and continuing to participate in, hegemonic forms of knowledge dissemination: an action which allows education, and educators, to acquiesce as tools in the manufacture of consent, the domestication of the masses and the maintenance of discrimination by persons in positions of dominance who consequently are able to legitimize their self-interest actions. History in the modern West has essentially meant progress: development. Its goal has been imagined as an image of millenial perfection; its meaning has been derived from its promise of fulfillment in the future. It is this future that has now been thrown into doubt. Historj' has always depended on nature as its source of support; but, so long as nature's limits had not been reached, this dependence could be overlooked. Now, it stares us balefully in the face. The exhaustion of resources, the extinction of vulnerable species, including evidence that humans have also become a vulnerable species, and the pollution of air, earth, and water all speak painfully and eloquently of the discovery of these limits and suggest that the political promises of future abundance can no longer assuage present dissatisfaction. History can no longer derive its meaning from a 3 future which humans have made potentially impossible. Thus it is necessary to speak of a new age, not in a millenial sense, but rather as a precondition for human survival. Time in this new age will have to be conceived not as the pursuit of the future, but as what Plato calls the moving image of eternity. A l l human development, both individual and collective, works by a principle of recapitulation. In entering a new phase of development, we re-evaluate and redeploy the resources of our past. It is maintained that the origin of the private ego and the separate identity is found in the phonetic alphabet. Before the alphabet, information was identical with the person producing it or receiving it, whereas after the introduction and use of the alphabet, information became extracted from language and extracted from the people who are using the information. Thus there is a separation between what is referred to as the body of knowledge on the one hand, and the knower on the other (Frye, 1982). The reason the phonetic alphabet is so important in our culture is because it is the first system of writing that enabled us to completely interiorize language, to make language available for use, for personal use, for anybody who could read or write. We cannot conceive ideas in linguistic forms in our heads unless we have symbols which will present these linguistic forms. Once we do this, we modify radically our relationship to and with the environment: The separation between the knower and the known (Burke, K . 1966; Houston, 1980; Sheldrake, 1981; Frye, 1982). These developments gave rise to the idea of a transcendent human destiny .which moves beyond nature and toward the future. 4 This turning away from nature has been considered by many to be the origin of our contemporary disregard for the substance and meaning of the natural world and has led, through biblical and scientific tradition, to a progressive devaluation which is now possibly irreversible because we have reached a state of ultimacy: that is the inclining toward termination of the planet earth, either by nuclear conflict or by technological plundering. This acts as an absolute limit to any further projection of history into the future. As humans we have now become god-like, we can do what God does, namely create and destroy life. With the splitting of the atom and the deciphering of the genetic code, the divine power of life and death has been given into our hands. We have developed a civilization that has extinguished for all practical purposes the boundaries of time and space upon the planet. We have instant communication around the earth, cultures are brought together in ways in which they have not had to confront each other in the past, and this evolving complexity of our civilization has produced both challenges and opportunities that can only be properly understood and grasped with a global perspective. Most of us have allowed the levels of our lives to be given to us gratuitously in symbolic form outside of ourselves in church or school or civic institutions. Very often we fulfill our hunger for a life lived mythically and in depth by becoming slaves to forces whose existence we are unwilling to consciously recognize. Through wars and other violent and destructive behaviour, we achieve a kind of transcendence on the sly, a transcendence we can no longer afford. We can behave in ways that are destructive to us, and in the earlier years of our life it may not be sufficiently destructive. It is only when 5 a behaviour pattern becomes sufficiently destructive, and frequently it is not because the behaviour pattern gets worse, but because other aspects of our selves become more sensitive to what the consequences of the destructive behaviour pattern does to us. It is in this sense that what we see today is that our warring conflicts and our technological plundering and polluting have always been destructive, but that (insanely) they have never been seen as sufficiently destructive to deter us. Concomitant with this destructive behaviour there has been a time of tremendous and beguiling creativity. As Einstein said: we've changed the whole course of the world, but we haven't changed the consciousness orchestrating what we're doing. That is, we have an addiction to creating more energy through the conflict mode, the crisis mood of consciousness, rather than the considerate mood. Many of the powerful political, religious, union, and terrorist leaders in the world continue to speak and act upon a concept of conflict which is alien to species and planetary survival. These leaders would persist in accepting continued power, monetary and material profit, as a way of life that must continue for certain privileged sectors of society in order that their reality, their existence, make sense to them. And implicit in this is the expectation that some of the human species are to be inferior, expendable (one can dissociate from moral principles if the object is viewed as inferior (Bandura, 1977)), to be the vulnerable yet infinitely reproducing slave species in order for the vision to remain a reality. 6 In order to examine this envisioned reality the writer has chosen to analyze the rhetoric and actions of political leaders to determine their political and ideological positions and priorities. It is expected that if a prevailing ideological priority is determined, then, given that knowledge and the rhetorical message, one should be able to predict the subsequent actions, estimate whether the the rhetorical vision of the present and the envisioned future reality has truth and is acceptable, even if grudgingly, to the citizens. Therefore, this thesis is about power, the power of rhetorical persuasion. Rhetoric itself is a form of censorship and, therefore, it can be used for personal and political domination. It is maintained that societies are organized upon the principle of unequal power and that this power differential is maintained largely through the use of language as symbolic action. It is not claimed that the rhetor has a theoretical knowledge of the art of rhetoric, though this may be true in some instances. It is probable that it is largely intuitive, or began intuitively, by the rhetor's observing audience response, and in turn, responding to that stimulus. However, to analyse speech and its effects it is necessary to use literary terms. This work consists of "essays," to use the word in its original sense as a trial or incomplete attempt, on the possibility of a synoptic view of the scope, theory, principles, and techniques of rhetorical criticism as an educative tool in the critical analysis of the pervasive political philosophy and ideology that at present afflicts education and women. One of the aims is to give reasons for believing in such a synoptic view; another aim is to provide a tentative version 7 of it which will make enough sense to convince the reader that a view, of the kind outlined, is attainable. The gaps in the subject as treated here are too huge for this thesis ever to be regarded as presenting my system, or even my theory. It is to be regarded rather as an interconnected group of suggestions which may be of some practical use to critics and students of adult education. The approach is based on a precept of Matthew Arnold's (1869/1965) of letting the mind play freely around a subject in which there has been much endeavour and little attempt at perspective. It is assumed that many readers will not be overly familiar with areas of political philosophies of human nature or with political ideologies. Therefore, brief outlines of these areas have been included to assist the reader. Being able to conceptualize politics as a coherent process is an essential first step in evaluating political rhetoric and action or in becoming a critic of one's own political system. It is pointed out that in an effort to be consistent the scope of meaning attached to some important terms in both political philosophy and political ideology has been contracted. Thus there is a narrowing of the meaning of many terms without, it is believed, departing from the mainstream of current usage. This work is divided into six parts which constitute what can be considered a logical point of departure for the study of political rhetoric. Chapter I consists of the introduction. Chapter II gives a definition of terms as they are used in this work, ideas, and concepts to do with rhetoric, figurative 8 language, political philosophical views of human nature, scientific knowledge, education, women, and feminist political philosophies. Chapter III discusses the ideological bases on which modern political systems are founded. Liberalism and socialism, the fundamental ideological systems of the modern world, are considered in the context of the political spectrum from communism to fascism. Chapter IV presents an analytical framework in which are classified the different sets of characteristics pertaining to the chosen forms of rhetorical criticism. Part V is an analysis of the political rhetoric. Chapter V I presents conclusions and reflections and rhetorical issues for contemplation. This work is meant to be objective, but that does not mean that it is value-free or without commitment. There are many aspects of politics and government which require different approaches in order that we may understand their many facets. Political scientists who use quantitative methods now co-exist peacefully with colleagues who rely on the older techniques of description and reflection. It has been accepted that analysis of politics is an inherently pluralistic discipline united not by possession of a single method but by concern with a common subject. The following work is a time-honoured method of description and reflection. 9 CHAPTER II DEFINITIONS A N D B A S I C CONCEPTS Definitions The following definitions are offered to assist the reader to understand, the way these words are used by the writer. The Oxford English Dictionary hereinafter will be referred to by the initials OED. Agnosticism is used in this work in two senses: Philosophically, that certainty, absolute truths are unattainable and only perceptual phenomena are objects of exact knowledge; ergo, in the theological sense, God is not denied just the possibility of knowing him. (Adapted from: Gowers, 1978; OED, 1978 c.1973). Ambiguity is the expression of an idea in language that gives more than one meaning and leaves uncertainty as to the intended significance of the statement. Referred to at times as the "resourcefulness of language" to charge words with great pressures of meaning. (Adapted from: Burke, K . , 1950; Abrams, 1971; Corbett, 1971). Concept is the meaning of a term and thus its smallest unit of thought, just as a term is the smallest unit of discourse. (Adapted from: Holman, 1975; OED, 1978 c.1973). Connotation is the cluster of implications that words or phrases may carry with them, as distinguished from their denotative meanings, and: Denotation is its primary meaning, such as the dictionary ordinarily specifies. (Adapted from: Abrams, 1971; Corbett, 1971; OED, 1978 c.1973). 10 Consubstantiate means to unite in one common substance, to become united in one common identity. Together we will Substantiate to make real or actual. (Adapted from: Weaver, 1964; Burke, K . , 1965; Corbett, 1971). Discrimination is the act, practice, or instance of making or perceiving of a distinction or difference. In this work it is used as discriminating categorically rather than individually, e.g., groups of persons such as women, persons of religious or ethnic affiliation, children, and the poor. (Adapted from the OED). Enthymeme. As logic it is a syllogism with one of the premises implicit: to have in mind. A rhetorical syllogism is one which is probable and persuasive, but may not be valid. As an example: As we are dependent; therefore, we should be humble. (Adapted from: y Abrams, 1971; Corbett, 1971). Epideictic means it is designed primarily for rhetorical effect; to exhibit, to show off, to display and is more at diction, though it can be demonstrative in forms of writing and is seen more in the nature of forensic writing. Thus it is associated with ceremony, ceremonial occasions, to amplify the praise or sometimes the blameworthiness of a person or group of persons. (Adapted from: Abrams, 1971; Corbett, 1971). Ethics, morals. The two words, once fully synonymous, have now been so divided in their functions that neither is superfluous. They are not rivals for one job, but are holders of complementary jobs; ethics is the science of morals, and morals are the practice of ethics; His ethics may be sound, but his morals are shameless. This is the broad distinction. The points where confusion arise are: (1) sometimes those who are talking about morals choose to call them ethics because the familiar word strikes them as more imposing; (2) there is an 11 impression that ethics is in some way more disconnected from religion than are morals; (3) the distinction is rather fine between the sense of ethics as a prevailing code of morals, and the morals themselves; but, though fine, it is considered clear enough. Ethical, moral. It is in the nature of words that the dividing line between the adjectives should be less clear than with the nouns. For, if ethics is the science of morals, then whatever concerns morals evidently concerns ethics too, and is as much ethical as moral; and vice versa. Nevertheless, we talk of a moral but not an ethical, man and we tend more and more to talk of the ethical rather than the moral basis of society, education, and so forth. At the same time, since immoral is popularly associated with sexual immorality, unethical has come, into vogue as an adjective for the conduct of the man who is immoral in other ways, especially in violating the accepted code of a profession or business. This latter is particularly true of North America. In Europe the word immoral is avoided for the same reasons, but is replaced with words such as dishonest or more strongly unscrupulous. However, it is evident that the North American term is gaining currency in England. (Adapted from: Gowers, 1978; Bullock & Stallybrass, 1984). Feminism. The word seems to have no precise and generally recognized meaning, but has many connotations, and an unexplained statement of support for feminism may therefore easily be misunderstood, and taken to mean more than is intended. The position taken is that the writer believes there are excellent reasons for thinking that women suffer from systematic social injustice because of their sex. Throughout this work the writer will take this proposition 12 as constituting the essence of feminism, and counting anyone who accepts it as a feminist. Further elaboration of meaning is given in the text. Folk, folklore. Coined by William John Thorns (British antiquary, 1803-1850) in 1846 for a central part of folk culture: the collective 'wisdom' or 'learning' of the folk as embodied in customs, belief, rituals, games, dances, songs, legends, myths, tales, proverbs, sayings, etcetra. Carries connotations of belonging to the common people, the primitive or less well educated persons in society. Researchers have tended to denigrate folklore as merely a corpus of erroneous but widely held beliefs. Good. Happiness is presumed to be the goal of life, while pleasure is merely the concomitant of successful functioning. Aristotle stated: We may define a good thing as that which ought to be chosen for its own sake; . . . All this being settled we now see that both the acquisition of good things and the removal of bad things must be good. . . . The acquisition of a greater in place of a lesser good, or of a lesser in place of a greater evil, is also good. . . . Again that is good which has been distinguished by the favour of a discerning or virtuous man or woman. Aristotle, Rhetoric, Book I, Chapters 6, 7. Ideology ideology is used simply as a convenient, contemporary word for political ideas in action. Instantiate means the representing of an abstraction or universal by a concrete instance. (OED, 1978 c.1973). Metonymy is the substitution of some attributive or suggestive word for what is actually, meant, e.g., brass for military officers. (Adapted from: Abrams, 1971; 13 Corbett, 1971). Morphogenesis. A theory of morphogenetic fields which link life forms across time and space. Carl Jung spoke of this in terms of synchronicity. Physicists use it as a means to understand the behaviour of sub-atomic particles and the concept of the reality of matter at the sub-atomic level where matter does not exist with certainty at definite places, but rather show tendencies to exist and atomic events do not occur with certainty at definite times nor in definite ways, but rather show tendencies to occur. (Adapted from: Progoff, 1973; Houston, 1980; Sheldrake, 1981). Norm. There are two main uses to be distinguished: (1) What is normal or usual behaviour in some community or social group (in the statistical sense a measure of location, an empirical distribution, norm, mean, mode); and (2) an ideal or standard to which people think behaviour ought to conform, or which some legislative authority lays down. The two may coincide, but frequently they differ: thus never to drink and drive may be a norm in sense 2 but not in sense 1. The related adjectives are, for sense 1, normal, eg. normal distribution, and for sense 2, normative. (Adapted from: Gowers, 1978; OED, 1978 c.1973; Bullock & Stallybrass, 1984) Normative. In general, it is concerned with rules, recommendations, or proposals, as contrasted with mere description or the statement of matters of fact. The words evaluative and prescriptive are used in the same way, though "normative," unlike the other two, tends to imply that the standards or values involved are those of some social group rather than of an individual -cf. Norm. The specific applications in this work are at: (1) Philosophy, where the label is 14 applied to value-judgements where the truth or falsity of value-judgements cannot be assessed: (2) Logic, likewise, is sometimes called a normative science because it does not simply classify forms of inference that are actually followed but critically selects, and by implication recommends, those it regards as valid. A valid inference, after all, is one whose conclusions ought to be accepted if its premises are. (Adapted from: Gowers, 1978; OED, 1978 c.1973; Bullock & Stallybrass, 1984). Opinion is a belief or conclusion held with confidence, but not substantiated by conclusive knowledge or proof. (Adapted from OED, 1978 c.1973). Oxymoron. The yoking of two terms which are ordinarily contradictory, e.g., little big man, make haste slowly, astute silliness. (Adapted from: Abrams, 1971; Corbett, 1971). Personification is the investing of abstractions for inanimate objects with human qualities or abilities, e.g., the ground thirsts for rain. (Adapted from: Abrams, 1971; Corbett, 1971). Synecdoche is a figure of speech in which a part stands for the whole. In general, we have an instance of synecdoche when the part or genus or adjunct that is mentioned suggests something else. It is an oblique manner of speaking, e.g., a part substituted for the whole: hands for helpers; oblique: are there no roofs in this town that will harbour an honourable man? (Adapted from: Corbett, 1971, Gowers, 1978; OED, 1978 c.1973). Syllogism. (1), As logic, it is a form of reasoning consisting of a major premise, a minor premise, and a conclusion: (2), It may be reasoning from the general to the specific: (3), It may be a subtle or specious piece of 15 reasoning. It is deduction, from two propositions containing three terms of which one appears in both, and a conclusion that is necessarily true if they are true. A n example in its simplest form is: All men are mortal; All Canadians are men; Therefore all Canadians are mortal. The predicate of the conclusion (here mortal) is called the "major term," and the preliminary proposition containing it the' "major premise"; the subject of the conclusion (here Canadians) is called the minor term, and the preliminary proposition containing it the "minor premise." The term common to both premises (here men) is called the "middle term." (Gowers, 1978). Symbol. A symbol, in the broadest sense of the term, is anything which signifies something else; in this sense all words are symbols. As commonly used in discussing literature and orality, however, symbol is applied only to a word or set of words that signifies an object or event which itself signifies something else; that is, the words refer to something which suggests a range of reference beyond itself. Some symbols are "conventional" or "public"; thus "the Cross," "the Red, White, and Blue," "the Cadillac" are terms that signify symbolic objects of which the further significance is fixed and traditional in a particular culture. We all use such conventional symbols, but many of us, however, also use "private" or "personal symbols" (as do some educational disciplines and the sciences), which are developed by the individual or by the group. Often this is done by exploiting pre-existing and widely shared associations with an object or action: For example, the general tendency to associate a peacock with pride and 16 an eagle with heroic endeavour, a dove with peace, rain with cleansing and healing, or to associate climbing with effort, progress, or development, and descent with surrender, failure, or non-development. Some, however, often use symbols whose significance they mainly generate for themselves, and these set the reader or listener a more difficult problem in interpretation. (Adapted from: Burke, K . , 1966; Abrams, 1971; Gowers, 1978). Trope. In rhetoric a trope is a figure of speech involving a "turn" or change of sense; the use of a word in a sense other than its proper or literal one. In this sense figures of comparison such as metaphor and simile, as well as ironical expressions are tropes or figures of speech. Other examples of tropes are synecdoche, metonomy, syllepsis, periphrasis, hyperbole, ironj' and paradox. (Adapted from: Abrams, 1971; Corbett, 1971). Thomism. The system of Thomas Aquinas' teaching that philosophy and theology have separate spheres with one seeking truth through the agency of reason and the other through that of revelation but reaching conclusions that support each other. The more rigid type of Thomism is known as scholasticism. (Adapted from the OED, 1978 c.1973). 17 Political Philosophy and Human Nature . . . All men are idealists and cannot help being idealists, provided we mean by idealism the striving for the satisfaction of needs which are specifically human and transcend the physiological needs of the organism. The difference is only that one idealism is a good and adequate solution, the other a bad and destructive one. The decision as to what is good and bad has to be made on the basis of our knowledge of man's nature and the laws which govern its growth (p. 312). Erich Fromm, The Sane Society. Governmental authority and legitimacy rest upon a network of beliefs about man, society, and the purpose of government. Speculation about these matters, which is known as political philosophy or political theory, is the first aspect of political science to have arisen, having been well cultivated by the Greek thinkers of classical antiquity. What is said of philosophy in general, -"all philosophy is a footnote to Plato," - is equally true of the special field of political philosophy. A l l the currently recognized issues have been addressed in the writings of Plato and his pupil Aristotle (384-322BC /1953). Plato (C.429-347BC /1953) made a distinction that is still crucial to the study of political beliefs. He distinguished between "episteme," which might translate as true well-founded knowledge, and "doxa" or opinion, episteme is knowledge demonstrated by logical argument from first principles, whereas doxa is an opinion that may be at least partially true, but which the believer cannot fully expound. Episteme is accepted because of the confidence credited to its source. To give a non-political example, consider the proposition that the earth revolves around the sun. Most people know this to be true, but few of us can 18 justify our belief except by referring to the authority who has taught us. Only a scientifically instructed minority can develop the proposition from the first principles of physics; the rest of us accept this as a matter of doxa. The field of political philosophy deals with both episteme and doxa. It tries to achieve episteme through discovery of valid first principles and deduction of results from them. It also studies the "doxai" found in society to see whether they are logically coherent and are a disciplined form of knowledge. The study of episteme and doxa are not wholly separate and generally reinforce each other because analysis of the opinions that the philosopher encounters is the first step in the pursuit of higher levels of understanding. The goal of political philosophy is to articulate a vision of the good society. Political philosophy, essentially a normative enterprise, seeks to determine the ideals and principles that are able to inform social organization. This is not to deny that much political philosophy^ especially contemporary political philosophy, appears on the surface to be concerned less with arguing in favour of such ideals as equality, democracy, equity, or community than with attempting to define them. Every theory must clarify its key concepts and, in the case of political philosophy, many of the central concepts are controversial, not as abstract ideals, but rather in their interpretation. Even in their debates over the meaning of freedom or individuality, justice or equality, political philosophers are not really trying to discover how those terms are ordinarily used. Instead, although they often express their conclusions as claims about meaning, political philosophers in fact argue for their own stipulated interpretation 19 of the disputed concepts. And in arguing for their own interpretation, political philosophers take into account not only traditional usage and conceptual clarity; they also employ explicitly normative arguments about the superiority of a society that instantiates this rather than that conception of democracy, freedom, or justice. Thus, it can be seen that even the conceptual arguments of political philosophers have a normative dimension. The normative nature of political philosophy is not controversial. Indeed, it is customary to distinguish political philosophy from political science precisely by claiming that political science, which is said to investigate how political systems in fact work, is empirical, while political philosophy, which tells us how they ought to work, is normative. Political science is seen as descriptive, political philosophy as prescriptive. However, the writer will challenge this customary way of distinguishing political philosophy from political science b}' arguing that both, as they are commonly defined, include both normative and empirical elements. Interchangeably with political philosophy, this writer will use the more ambiguous term political theory, which is more generally recognized as including both claims in what is ordinarily called political science and also explicitly normative claims. (Not everyone, of course, regards "political philosophy" and "political theory" as interchangeable. Some academics jealously guard their turf and allow no intermingling of the terms). Inseparable from a vision of the good society is a critique of the philosopher's own society. This critique may not be worked out in detail but it is always at least implicit because a conception of justice is simultaneously a 20 conception of injustice. Inequality defines equality, oppression defines liberation. How much emphasis a philosopher gives to the positive vision and how much to the negative critique depends upon a number of things: on the philosopher's motives in writing about their situation (for some, an overt critique of their own society may be too dangerous to undertake) and also on the philosopher's conception of the nature and social function of political theory. Some philosophers may believe that their task is to provide a detailed blueprint for the future; others, like Marx, may have epistemological reasons for believing that the future society must be designed by its future inhabitants and that the immediate task is to struggle against specific forms of oppression. Thus Marx's philosophy, unlike Plato's 'good society', for instance, consists largely of a detailed critique of the capitalist future. Nonetheless, the vision of an alternative society, however indistinct, underlies every philosophical criticism of contemporary injustice or oppression, just as every philosophical theory of the good society contains an implicit condemnation of existing social evils. Another aspect of political philosophers is a consideration of the means for travelling from here to there, a strategy for moving from the oppressive present to the liberated future. Many philosophers have failed to give explicit attention to the question of means. Some may have wished to avoid charges of subverting the status quo; others, however, have had an underlying epistemological rationale for not addressing the question of the means to social change. They hold an elevated conception of political philosophy as the articulation of universal ideals and have viewed the question of how to instantiate those ideals as being both logically secondary and not universal. The Marxist tradition is one of the 21 few philosophies that has given much thought to questions of means as well as ends. Marxists believe that theory is born from practice and only in the process of struggling against oppression can people formulate new visions of liberation. Whether or not one accepts this tenet of Marxist epistemology, there are other reasons for viewing questions of strategy as integral to political philosophy. One reason is that questions of means are not just questions of efficiency; Marxists also involve normative issues about means that can be morally justifiable in achieving social change. Examples of such questions concern the justifiability as well as the effectiveness of propaganda, strikes, boycotts, restrictions on freedom of speech or movement, censorship, torture, sabotage, terrorism and war. Because questions of means have this normative aspect, they are related logically to questions of ends. So the basic principles of a political theory may imply the propriety of some means to social change and to prohibit the use of other means. For example, the liberal commitment to preserving individual rights seems to rule out censorship, terrorism and assasination, as legitimate means to social change. On the other hand, a Marxist analysis of the state as an instrument of class domination undercuts the state's claims to political authority and justifies illegal and possibly violent forms of resistance on the part of the oppressed classes. For these reasons, as well as the fact that political philosophy has an ultimately practical aim, this writer views a consideration of the appropriate strategies for social change as an integral part of political philosophy. 22 Political Philosophy and Scientific Knowledge To acknowledge that political philosophy is concerned with means as well as with ends is to recognize that it must be practicable as well as practical; an adequate political theory must show how to translate its ideals into practice. To use a well-known if rather dated formula of analytic philosophy, "ought" implies "can." To know what can be, however, requires considerable information about what is. To know how certain political ideals can be instantiated, for instance, requires information about human motivation to determine the circumstances in which people will cooperate; it requires information about the available technology, to determine the social possibility and social costs of satisfying certain human desires; and, to discover workable strategies, it requires information about the motors of social change. A political theory that is practicable as well as practical obviously depends heavily on scientific knowledge about the "real" world. It is not only to discover the "means" of social change that political philosophers require scientific knowledge. In order to engage in a critique of contemporary society, a political philosopher must know what is going on in that society. It is obvious that the critical and the strategic aspects of political philosophy require a knowledge of the "real" world, it may be less obvious that to construct a positive vision of the good society also requires knowledge of the world. Abstract ideals need specific interpretations, e.g. the Marxist attack on the liberal conception of equality, draws on empirical data showing that individuals with more economic power in a society inevitably use that power to 23 weaken or even eliminate the ability of those with less economic power to exercise their civil rights. It is partly on the basis of empirical considerations, therefore, that Marxists argue for an economic dimension to equality. To take an even more fundamental example, in order to make a general determination of what is socially desirable, it is necessary to be able to identify the basic human needs. Although "good" may not be definable in terms of human needs, as one form of philosophical naturalism claims, there is a conceptual connection such that, if something fulfills a basic human need, this constitutes a prima facie, although not an indefeasible, reason for calling it good (Alderfer, 1972; Taylor, 1972; Pinder, 1984). An intimate relationship exists, between political philosophy and such sciences as psychology, economics, political science, sociology, anthropology and even biology and the various technologies. Some political philosophers recognize this explicitly. For instance, Rawls (1971) requires that those who formulate the principles of justice in his ideal society should know "whatever general facts affect the choice of those principles," and gives examples that include "political affairs and the principles of economic theory; . . . the basis of social organization and the laws of human psychology" (p. 137). A knowledge of many sciences is necessary to give substance to the philosophical ideal of human well-being and fulfillment, to add trenchancy to philosophical critiques of oppression and to avoid idle speculation by setting limits to social and political possibility. 24 Science, Politics and Human Nature The dependence of political philosophy on information about the world, particularly the sort of information that the humanities or life sciences are designed to provide, raises for political philosophers not only the problem of acquainting themselves with findings of those sciences but adds the deeper problem of determining which findings they should accept as valid. Scientific claims to provide the information for which Rawls (1971) calls, "the principles of economic theory," "the basis of social organization and the laws of human psychology," (p. 138-139) are all highly controversial. For instance, there are no generally accepted laws of psychology, and no generally accepted prospect that any will be found soon (Popper, 1966; Frye, 1971; Shaw, 1975; Mheel, 1979; Gilligan, 1982). One aspect of the intractability of the human sciences is that their disputes often lack clear criteria for resolution. This is not to say that there are no relatively straight forward empirical questions about, for example, the voting patterns or divorce rates of certain groups. But the more persistent disputes within the human sciences concern not facts, but the interpretation of facts; that is, they are concerned with which theoretical models will best explain or make sense of these facts. To take a current example, the new "discipline" of sociobiology has developed a theoretical framework that attempts to explain instances of apparently altruistic behaviour in both animals and humans in terms of an evolutionary strategy through which genes seek to maximize their chances of reproductive success (Murphy, 1978; Powledge & Fletcher, 1979; Barney, 1980; 25 Ives, 1981; Miller, 1982; Roy, 1982; Merchant, 1983). This theoretical framework is in sharp contrast, of course, to older theories about altruism which may interpret it as a triumph of the moral will over the selfish instincts or as a flowering of the human potential for self-actualization through cooperation. It is illuminating to see many of the disputes in the various human sciences as grounded ultimately in competing conceptions of what it is to be human. Psychology provides perhaps the most convincing examples of this claim with its variety of theoretical models of the human mind: the behaviouristic model, according to which people are complicated stimulus-response mechanisms; the "humanistic" model, which sees people in basically existential terms as agents who are capable of making an individual choice about their own destiny; the Marxian model, which views humans as self-creating only through social action; the Freudian model; the model of humans as computers, and so on. Conflicts between schools of economists, also, seem to involve competing conceptions of human nature: classical economics rests on a conception of humans as beings whose individual interests are constantly likely to conflict, whereas Marxist economics posits a fundamental identity of interest between members of the same class and ultimately, indeed, between all members of the human species (Pinder, 1984). Within sociology, the structural-functionalist school conceives of the human individual simply as the bearer of roles, while other approaches ascribe various levels of autonomy to human agents. 26 Alternative models of human motivation may also be found to underlie competing analyses in political science. Reinforcing this point, Charles Taylor (1972) writes: For a given framework (of explanation) is linked to a given conception of the schedule of human needs, wants, and purposes, such that, if the schedule turns out to have been mistaken in some significant way, the framework itself cannot be maintained. This is for the fairly obvious reason that human needs, wants, and purposes, have an important bearing on the way people act, and that therefore one has to have a notion of the schedule which is not too wildly inaccurate if one is to establish the framework for any science of human behaviour, that of politics not excepted. A conception of human needs thus enters into a given political theory and cannot be considered something extraneous which we later add to the framework (p. 155). To attribute the divisions within the human sciences to the lack of a generally accepted conception of what it is to be human is not to diagnose the problem, but to restate it. Yet the writer believes that this restatement has heuristic value because it leads us to focus attention on the whole notion of a theory of human nature. What questions should a theory of human nature be designed to answer, what are the methods by which it might discover those answers and what are the criteria for determining the adequacy of the answers offered? No single issue, of course, can be identified as the problem of human nature. Rather, there are a cluster of interrelated questions, many of which have been perennial objects of study by philosophers. These questions include ontological issues, such as whether human beings can be thought of as existing prior to or independently of society; and metaphysical or methodological issues, such as whether human beings are irreducibily different from the rest of nature or whether their activities can be understood in principle by the concepts and methods of natural sciences. Other questions include the basis, scope, and limits of human knowledge, and the nature of human fulfillment and self-realization. 27 In modern times, a skeptical issue has been raised: is it possible to identify any universal characteristics of human nature which all human beings have in common and which distinguish them from animals, or are persons living at different places and times, in different social contexts, so diverse that the only characteristics they may safely be assumed to share are biological? An attempt to provide a comprehensive and systematic answer to these and other questions may be called a theory of human nature. Given the range and extent of these problems, it is obvious that a complete theory of human nature stretches beyond the findings of any single discipline, be it anthropology, sociology, psychology or even education. Rather, each of these disciplines provides a partial contribution to a comprehensive theory of human nature. But, as well as contributing to the development of such a theory, there is a clear sense that research into each of these disciplines also "presupposes" a certain model of human nature. Take as an example the problem of understanding human motivation. Empirical data are certainly required to develop an explanatorj' model, but a systematic account of motivation is not simply derivable from empirical data. On the contrary, what are to count as data is determined by the conceptual framework set up to guide the project of research. Empirical observations do not simply discover what motivates human beings; they must also presuppose or infer certain very general features of human motivation. For example, if psychologists believe that human behaviour is governed by innate biological, drives or instincts, then psychological research obviousfy will focus on attempts to identify those drives and will tend to disregard environmental stimuli and rational agency. If psychology is 28 dominated by a conception of human motivation according to which persons are complicated stimulus-response mechanisms, then this branch of psychological research will attempt to explain behaviour through the discovery of the stimuli to which the organism is responding and will tend to ignore biology and rational agency. And if psychology takes people to be essentially rational agents, then research will tend to ignore human biology and environmental stimuli and will be directed instead toward discovering the individual's reasons for action - the exact direction of the research is determined by the researcher's own conception of rational behaviour. This example illuminates the now familiar interdependence between theory and observation and it also illustrates the way in which questions, answers and methods are not independent aspects of a conception of human nature - or any other theory. What count as appropriate methods and appropriate answers are determined by what one takes the questions to be and, conversely, what one takes to be significant questions is in part a function of one's pre-existing theoretical and methodological commitments. Theories of human nature "do not differ from theories of non-human nature in their interdependence of question, answer, and method, but in another respect the}' are generally taken to differ from such theories and this is in their normative element. A few philosophers of science deny the alleged contrast by arguing that all knowledge is pervaded by normative, moral, and political assumptions (Young, 1973). Whether or not this is true for the physical sciences is undetermined, but it is certainly true for the theories that constitute the human sciences. For instance, to determine an individual's reasons for action requires an inevitably normative decision about what counts as rational 29 behaviour. More generally, the core of any theory of human nature must be a conception of human abilities, needs, wants, and purposes; but there is no value-free method for identifying these. Obviously, a theory of human nature requires us to separate the "real" or basic or ineliminable needs and wants from among the innumerable things that people in fact say they need and want. There seems to be a strong conceptual connection between the notion of a basic need or want and the notion of human flourishing and well-being. What constitutes flourishing and well-being, however, is a question of value, both with respect to the individual and with respect to the social group. It has been commonplace for some time that the notion of mental health has overtly normative and ideological ingredients and philosophers (and others) are now beginning to argue the same for the notion of physical health (Shapiro, 1978; Beauchamp, 1978; Fletcher, 1978; Kass, 1978; Childress, 1980; Morgan, 1984; Lendvoy, 1985). Even the standard of physical survival cannot be used as a value-free criterion for determining human needs, for it raises questions about how long and in what conditions humans can and should survive. Perhaps our future survival will depend upon who should survive, who will procreate, how many issue can be permitted, and how and by whom this will be determined. This discussion of human well-being brings out one way in which values are embedded in the human sciences. Thusfar, the writer has shown that the human sciences are grounded on conceptions of human nature that are not straightforwardly empirical, both because they presuppose certain very general features of what it is to be human and because they rest on certain normative assumptions. The presuppositions of the human sciences, in fact, constitute 30 varying answers to what the western tradition has taken to be the central problems of philosophy. These include questions regarding the relations between human and non-human nature, between mind and body, and between individuals and other individuals, questions regarding the possibility and source of genuine human knowledge and questions regarding human well-being and fulfillment. The original object of this section thus has been turned on its head. The writer began by looking for standards of well-established scientific knowledge about human beings that could be used by political philosophers in the construction of a theory of the good society. But now it appears that the human sciences themselves rest on a philosophical foundation. In part, moreover, this foundation consists precisely in answer to the central questions of political philosophy. If this argument is sound, political philosophy and the human sciences, including political science, are ultimately inseparable. None of them are "autonomous." Philosophy, science, and politics are not distinct endeavours. The human sciences do not constitute a reservoir of factual knowledge, uncontaminated by values, on which political philosophers can draw; nor, since political philosophy depends on the findings of the human sciences, can the former be viewed simply as a prologue (or prologomenon) to the latter. Instead, a certain methodological approach to the human sciences is correlated with a basic perspective in political philosophy in such a way that each reinforces the other (Young, 1973). The unifying element in each case is a certain very general conception of human nature. 31 Political Philosophy and Education There is a growing interest in philosophy of education among students of philosophy as well as among those who are more specifically and practically concerned with educational problems. Philosophers, from the time of Plato, have taken an interest in education and have tried to deal with education within the context of broader concerns about knowledge and the "good" in life. It is only recently that philosophy of education has been rediscovered as a specific branch of philosophy like those of science or politics. To call philosophy of education a specific branch of philosophy is not, however, to suggest that it is a distinct branch in the sense that it could exist apart from established branches of philosophy such as epistemology, ethics, and philosophy of mind. It is more appropriate to conceive of it as drawing on established branches of philosophy and bringing them together in ways which are relevant to educational issues. In this respect the analogy with political philosophy would be a good one. Thus use can be made of work that already exists in philosophy. Though there is much work already done by philosophers on rights, punishment, and authority, there exists, however, little or no systematic work in other relevant branches of philosophy related to education: i.e., such concepts as education, teaching, learning, indoctrination. Thus philosophers of education have had to break new ground - in these cases the philosophy of mind. Work on educational issues can also bring to life and perhaps • illuminate long standing problems in philosophy. For instance, concentration on the common predicaments of children may throw new light on problems of punishment, 32 dependence, independence, and responsibility and possibly the matter of participation in educational activities by adults in later life. Thus the old worries of Moore, Rashdall and Gramsci about what sorts of things are good in themselves can be brought to life by urgent questions about the justification of the curriculum in our educational institutions and the implicit view of human nature thereby espoused or underlying that justification (Peters, 1967; Singer, 1979). There is a danger of polarization in the philosophy of education as in any other applied field. The product could be practically relevant but philosophically feeble; or it could be philosophically sophisticated but remote from practical problems. Thus the aim of philosophy of education must be to build a body of fundamental work in this area which is both practically relevant and philosophically competent. This brings us to the philosophical discussion of rights and their justification; the clarifying of key issues to do with a "democratic" society. Such issues deal with the nature of power, the "proper" control of economic power, control of the majority's power and dissent, within society. This is the critical awareness of the power of politics. It is here maintained that the feminists' point that the claims for women's and children's rights goes far beyond just the issue and appeals of the "moderate" centred women's movement or moderate ideology. (Engels, 1972; Habermas, 1976; Reed, 1976; Benn, 1976; Dworkin, R. 1977 & 1978a; Macpherson, 1977; Dworkin, A . 1978; Ackerman, 1980; Richards, 1980; MacKinnon, 1983 & 1984). 33 It is maintained that societies are organized upon the principle of unequal power and that this power differential is maintained largely through the use of language as symbolic action. In suggesting critical political education as the keystone of education, as a strategy to achieve a balance, it is not Marxist. This is stressed because many people believe that there are just two sorts of philosophy of education - either a radical Marxist one or one which serves as an ideological prop to the status quo. But these are not the only possibilities. Recent work in feminist and liberal democratic theory suggests we are capable both of mounting a fundamental critique of contemporary political and educational practice and of suggesting more defensible alternatives. It is in this latter respect that these theories have more to offer than any Marxist analysis with which the writer is familiar. The writer is surely not the only reader of Marxist works on education who finds much to agree with in their .searing critiques of capitalism but who- feels that waiting for the Revolution to lead us into an ill-defined Utopia is not the most practicable or practical of suggestions as to how we can escape our present troubles. Revolution invaribly only produces more efficient and well-taught oppressors, who have a select leadership, and who also must either co-opt those they have displaced or annihilate them and oppress those who did not follow them. In other words, the writer believes any "good" by this means is fragile and short-lived before the cycle of political hierarchical power structure as a way of conducting society is reimposed. The writer proposes that any lasting good can only be achieved by 'education' and 'applied' fundamental democratic principles and not by 'propaganda' that manufactures consent. An example would be the Boston Women's Health 34 Collective. In any discussion of democracy one does not have to remain at the level of general principles - justice, freedom, and fraternity. One may attempt to devise ways and means through which these general principles might be realized. In this latter respect the findings bear the mark of American influence and the considerable work done in political philosophy in the United States on practical political issues such as civil rights, positive discrimination, a just scale of incomes and so on. This type of work has not figured to any great extent in British philosophy of education. British and Canadian philosophers of education, anxious to make this subject as respectable as its purer cousins, such as philosophy of religion or philosophy of science, have often been reluctant to offer partly empirical claims and recommendations. This writer's experience working in a variety of large institutions with professional colleagues in other educationally related disciplines, medicine, psychology, nursing, rehabilitation as examples, has made the writer aware that an opportunity is lost by such a purist stance. If philosophers do not sometimes trace the institutional and policy implications of their work, and necessarily put themselves in a position of vulnerability, it is highly improbable that anyone else will do so. If it is thought therefore, that philosophy of education has important contributions to make to educational policy-making this has to be demonstrated - even at the risk of a little impurity. The outcome of recent elections both in Canada and the United States have caused' many people to lament the political ignorance and apathy of the voting public and have urged that as individuals and as a society we must do 35 something about it. What is most often recommended is that we try to fill the ignorance gap with plugs of political education. It is doubtful if anything could be more inappropriate. Political education provides the context or framework for the whole of education: it is not in any sense peripheral, or an extra, or an afterthought. Its absence can imply deliberate intent at knowledge hegemony with the specific intent of class maintenance. This thesis is about power, the power of rhetorical persuasion, of rhetoric as a' form of censorship itself, and therefore its possibilities for domination. This writer also assumes in this essay a multicultural society. The writer is aware that it is not possible to consider all the issues that are raised for democratic principles and practice by a culturally plural society, given the particular focus of this work. Yet some issues do impinge, however, at various points. One of the preoccupations is, for instance, the position of minorities whether temporary or permanent, and of whatever kind, whether bound together by a common religious pattern of life or by some other common interests or traditions or by some common oppression. The majority/minority problem is one of the most intractable for any community which essays participatory democracy. Democratic Principles and Basic Assumptions There has been little attempt by philosophers of education, except perhaps in the area of issues that deal with the democratic control of curriculum (Sockett, 1980), to attempt suggestions on the concrete implementation of principles in our particular historical situation. One could of course say that 36 there is good reason for this. Philosophy is a matter of the formulation and refining of concepts and general principles. It is for someone else to apply these to the concrete situation. Yet within the educational field there does not appear to be a detail worker who fills this position. If we look to history the classical political philosophers filled this position (Plato on the domestic arrangements for the Guardians, Locke on decision-making machinery and Hegel on the family). American political philosophers tackle these questions and in the United Kingdom there is work like The Skeptical Feminist (Richards, 1980), which surely must support the case that there is an important job for philosophers to do in applying general principles to particular situations. It is of course an untidy job in that the philosophical worker has to make empirical assumptions of all kinds, any of which, if false, may destroy the case in hand. It is important to point out that the person should be prepared for their work to be rapidly overtaken or expanded upon and, therefore, to see this type of endeavour as a form of brainstorming in print. This endeavour's value is to be measured as much by the sheer number of ideas it expresses directly or indirectly as by the correctness of the ideas put forward. Having said this let us then turn to the general principles and basic assumptions underlying democracy. Take as a starting point the "normal" person, in particular the normal person as a chooser (Benn, 1976). People, all the world over, make choices be they complex or simple. The common-sense presumption is that the onus is on anyone who wants to interfere with another's choices to justify the interference. The interference may be justifiable (the chooser is deemed insane, an infant is risking her safety), but it has to be justified. This is the barest statement of a 37 principle of freedom which takes as unproblematic, for the moment, the notion of what is involved in "making-choices." Even this bare statement of the principle will, however, make the most stringent demands on anyone wanting to justify the exercise of political power. Political power may be exercised in such a way as to insist that I fill out forms, drive on a certain side of the road, give up part of my income, take up a certain occupation, not proclaim my thoughts, even to insist that I kill people in times of war. If anyone has thought that the way to avoid this clash with the principle of freedom was to reject the whole idea of political power, then this view has been nullified, by Nozick (1974) and Kenneth Burke (1966). Both have made evident that if structured states did not exist we would have to invent them - or back into them by degrees at least. If, however, one rejects the anarchistic alternative and accepts that it is in every person's interest that there be some political power, some state apparatus, can any guidelines be established as to the morally permissable form of such a state? Anyone tempted, in an unthinking way, to claim that a democracy like the United Kingdom, the United States or Canada would constitute such a morally permissable state, might do well to reflect that these countries, according to Habermas (1976) and feminists, such as: de Beauvoir (1970), Mitchell (1973), Daly (1978), Okin (1979), Rich (1979), and Morgan (1984) as advanced capitalist states, are held to be experiencing a legitimation crisis. These capitalist societies are not then unproblematically acceptable. It may be that the demands for justifications for capitalist political principles and practices can be met, but such justifications have to be produced. If they do not stand up under such scrutiny, 38 the question arises again of the form political power would have to take to be acceptable. If we lived in a radically different world, the form a political state could take might be rather more obvious. In a world where a minority of the population were normal people, moderately rational, moderately benevolent, not conspicuously lacking in strength of will (Hart, 1962), and the rest were feeble creatures, irrational, weak in understanding, weak in will-power and possibly with tendencies toward psychopathic behaviour, there would be grounds for maintaining that the political state should take a paternalistic form. A benevolent despotism with the normal minority taking care of the interests of the weak-minded majority, with careful and impartial benevolence, might well be the most justifiable political arrangement. Our world, however, is not really like that. Overwhelmingly we are all normal people. And there are no "super-people" around, constant in wisdom, rationality and strength of will, who might have a claim to exercise power over us. Might have a claim is stated because the case has not actually been made that if these super-people did exist, they would be justified in virtue of the fact of their superior wisdom, rationality, and so on, in interfering with the plans, intentions, purposes of us normal people. As these super-intelligences are not available to us so that they might have a claim to run our political affairs for us, no one has a better claim to exercise political power over the rest of us, on the grounds of superior insight into the unriddling of life. Given that this argument is correct, then the only way to dispose of political power in an ethically acceptable way is to allow each 39 individual access to an equal share in the exercise, or the control, of power. This, the writer believes, is the basic case for democracy. In assembling the case for democracy the writer is taking the position that the appropriate stance toward democracy is not to see it, for example, as a brilliant way of encouraging the development of certain sorts of admirable people. This writer tends rather to see it negatively, as the most morally and ethically acceptable form of government available to protect individuals from the abuse of power by an individual, a minority or even a majority. Democratic government will also be concerned with the impartial promotion of the well-being of citizens. However, a benevolent despot could do this also. What is uniquely characteristic of democracy is the assertion that the individual has the right and responsibility to share equally in the exercise or control of power: a demand which recognizes that no individual or group should have the power to impose preferences for a certain way or style of life on others. This posture rests in turn on three basic assumptions which the writer will now address. Three Basic Assumptions The first basic assumption is that there are no experts, moral and ethical, on what constitutes the good life for individuals. In the long history of ethical theory, despite continual endeavours, none have managed to demonstrate conclusively that broad styles of life are to be preferred over other styles: for instance, the active over the contemplative life or vice-versa, the life of the devoted, enthusiastic specialist over the urbane all-rounder or the obverse and so 40 on (White, 1982). The only authority on the good life is, therefore, the individual herself or himself who has had the chance to "reflect" on possible lives. The considered, reflective choice is not corrigible by any moral experts (even if the choice confounds them!). A democratic government cannot therefore pursue policies which endorse one conception of the good life as intrinsically superior to others. This is an assumption held by many feminist and liberal democratic theorists, such as Mitchell (1973), Dworkin (1978b), Okin (1979), Ehrenreich and English (1979), Gelpi (1979), Ackerman (1980), Richards (1980), Jagger (1983), Morgan (1984). Dworkin sees this assumption as one of the constitutive elements of the liberal position. Interestingly it is an assumption which has a close parallel in a similar assumption made by Marx and also contemporary Marxists such as C. B . Macpherson (1977) and Brian Simon (1983)., They are not prepared to specify the form of the good life for individuals in the future communist society, because as they see it, it is for future individuals to choose how best to fulfill their natures. Since human interests, needs, and values evolve historically, it is only possible to be agnostic about the choices future individuals in a changed social context might make. This theoretical similarity in one important aspect of feminist, Marxist and liberal theory, namely their agnostic views on the good for mankind, suggests that, insofar as their practice in each case realized their theory, a real possibility exists for some reconciliation between feminist, Marxist, and liberal political systems. Therefore, unless or until a breakthrough is achieved in the determination of what constitutes the good life for individuals by experts, the democratic assumption that the government and other institutions in the society 41 shall not, either directly or indirectly, favour one conception of the good life over another must remain unchallenged. In the second assumption, this agnosticism about the good life gives firm guidelines on a number of further assumptions which a government must make and embody in its policies if it is concretely to realize this stance. These assumptions about particular goods which a government should guarantee to its citizens are commonplace among democratic theorists. Perhaps more remarkably, there is considerable agreement on the list of such goods. The fundamental idea is that certain goods and rights are a necessary means to the good life. The writer believes these are: opportunities and wealth (in terms of sufficiency not only money) and the traditional civil rights; freedom of thought and conscience and the rule of law; and the right and responsibility to participate in the exercise and control of power. This bare and abstract list, which is closely akin to Rawls's (1972) list of "primar}' goods," is unlikely to be controversial. What is likely to be controversial are the ways of realizing policies which can secure such goods for people. To cite a case particularly relevant to this thesis, Rawls includes in his list of primary goods "opportunities and powers" but does not explore the kind of institutional machinery which might secure them for people. A fundamental element of such machinery, the writer believes, must be education. However, Rawls is not alone amongst contemporary political theorists in not tracing the implications of his political theory for a theory 42 of education. In reference to this point, Dworkin (1978a) has made a pertinent statement: It does seem to me that liberalism is rather weak at this point and needs a theory of education and a theory of cidture-support that it does not have. That, I think is part of the answer to the question: Where must political theory go? (p. 161). Third, come assumptions about the nature and context of the persons and the community in question. These assumptions fall into two sets. The first set comprises those capacities and abilities which it may be supposed all normal human beings possess by nature (Hart, 1961). These are things such as limited understanding and strength of wil l , which make i t . possible for our behaviour to be rule-guided. In the same category would come our capacity for altruism. It is these attributes which make any government both possible and necessary. The second set of assumptions relate to the attributes of democratic citizens in particular. A great deal has been written (almost ordained) on the democratic character presupposed by the democratic state. It is into this tradition that Rawls's work on his suggested primary good of "self-esteem" fits. Yet there remains considerable work to be done in examining these accounts of the democratic character and sifting out what is necessary for citizens in a democratic state, what is permissable, and what is unnecessary if not in direct conflict with democratic ideals. Given the fundamental agnosticism of the good life, which is a basic assumption, (a) the community will have to see that citizens develop who are capable of appreciating ideals of life and reflectively consider them as possible 43 options. In other words they will need to critically analyse information to make choices. They will need as well, of course, the kind of institutions, educational and otherwise, which permit, encourage, and enrich choices, but do not enforce them. Accordingly, and to enhance these attributes,- they will need an absence of certain, presently fostered, character-traits. Traits such as servility, obsequiousness, and a desire to follow the crowd, and thereby their nonexercising of their individual responsibility either to themselves, their families, or their community. They will require confidence and courage to adopt unfashionable ways or contrarj' stances if they consider these to be right and to defend and/or listen to others who wish to do so. This point takes us beyond the self-regarding attributes presented under (a), to (b), the unprejudiced tolerance of others and their chosen ways of life which the democratic citizen will need to make manifest. The writer does not mean "non-judgemental" in this instance as this would be contrary to the presented argument. It is pertinent to emphasize that this is not an individualistic conception of democracy in the sense that its rationale is the autonomous citizen standing up for rights in the face of state power, the power of institutions, or the power of other individuals. Since the state (or any other institution) has no reason to show any preference towards any conception of the good life over any other, if, therefore, citizens find a way of life preferred, or downgraded, by the state, they will, quite literally, have no reason to endorse this and every reason to oppose it and attempt to get the "state of affairs" redressed. If by design, or chance, our way of life happens to be favoured by state policies, given the assumptions of agnosticism about the good life with which we are working, then we have no 44 reason, it would be irrational of us, not to oppose this. Agnosticism about the good life brings with it reasons for justice and tolerance toward others' chosen ways of life, but not reasons for us to accept a policy which gives ours or anyone else's life a privileged place. Thus tolerance is the correlate of censorious judgement. It is emancipation from prejudicial discrimination. The attributes noted under (a) and (b) are not exhaustive, they are a start in this area. Thus this account has far-reaching implications for the conduct of education in its widest sense. Adult education is not a socially and politically neutral educational process but is influenced by theideology of the setting in which it finds itself. It can be argued that most of adult education is involved in maintaining the existing order. Roberts (1982) expresses an: . . . uneasy feeling that adult education as a whole does not question dominant social values and practices. . . . A search of the literature in North America reveals a dominant interest, not in the philosophy and underlying purposes in adult education, so much as in methods and techniques and objective research studies of such techniques and of the characteristics of client populations (p. 8). The underlying or implicit assumptions in curricula are not analysed or studied. Educators are mainly concerned with aspects of individual interaction and methods of teaching subjects which uphold the social order. This is partly due to the voluntary nature of adult education and the predominant concern with the behavioural aspects rather than the value aspects of education. It is believed that adult education has to begin to address the applications of basic democratic principles and with points about the democratic exercise of control, and responsibilities of power in any society. The position taken is that it is important in political education to bring home to people that in addition to 45 their political duties of participation, they may, on occassion, have a duty to be civilly disobedient. When and how will often be difficult to determine, but historical cases of civil disobedience may help one to judge. As an example, were the suffragettes or the anti-Vietnam war campaigners justified in civil disobedience viewed from the perspective available to them at the time? Topics such as abortion, disarmament, and pollution will require careful examination in a political education program as will those who teach such programs. Learners should, for instance, be disabused of the idea that civil disobedience is the only option if a vote goes against them. If that happens, it does not mean the topic is to be avoided or forgotten. The topic or issue can, obviously, profitably, be linked with work on decision-making and majority voting, all of which are part of the educative process and part of the responsibility of present citizens in order that we all might participate in a good life. Human Nature and the Concept of Women In developing its vision of the good society, every political theory gives at least some indication of women's and men's relative positions in that society - even if its view is indicated as much as by what it fails to say as by what it actually says. Consequently, since every political theory is grounded on a certain conception of human nature, each political theory incorporates some assumptions about the nature of women and men. In the case of most classical theories claims about women's nature were explicit although definitely not accorded a central place in the total system (Mahowald, 1978). In contemporary 46 times, systematic political philosophers, such as John Rawls (1971) and Robert Nozick (1974), have rarely discussed women directly. Nevertheless, the very silence of contemporary philosophers on this topic is significant. Either it suggests that standard moral or political theories, such as natural rights theory, utilitarianism, or even the theory of alienation, apply without modification to women, or it suggests that they do not apply to women at all. In other words, from contemporary philosophers' silence about women one might infer either that there are no differences between women and men that are relevant to political philosophy, or that women are not part of the subject matter of political philosophy at all. Feminists break this silence. Their critique of women's position in contemporary society demonstrates that every aspect of social life is governed by gender. In other words, it reminds that all social life is structured by rules that establish different types of behaviour as appropriate to women and men (Mill, 1970; Rich, 1976, 1979; Leibowitz,1978; Daly, 1978; Gilligan, 1983). Feminists subject these rules to critical scrutiny, arguing that, in many cases if not all, they are oppressive to women. To establish this critique, feminists are confronted inevitably by questions about women's nature, their potentialities and their limitations. Feminists are forced to reflect on the social and political significance of all the differences, including the biological differences, between the sexes. That is, feminists are forced to develop a theory of human nature that includes an explicit account of the natures of women and men. There has been extensive development of feminist theorizing (world-wide) about women's and men's natures. Earlier feminists (Mary Astell, 1668-1731; Mary Wollstonecraft, 47 1759-1797) accepted, somewhat uncritically, prevailing conceptions of human nature that took the male as paradigm (the model of comparison), and concerned themselves primarily with demonstrating that women are as fully human as men. In making this argument, both liberal and Marxist feminists insisted on a sharp distinction between the biological attribute of sex and the cultural attribute of gender, and they argued that biological differences were, by and large, irrelevant to political theory. As contemporarj' feminism developed, however, it extended a new critique to other areas of social life, including sexuality and childbearing (Lucy Stone, 1818-1893; Matilda Joslyn Gage, 1826-1898; Josephine Butler, 1828-1906). In those areas it was less plausible to assume the political irrelevance of biological differences between the sexes, and so some contemporary feminists have seen the need to reconsider the political and philosophical significance of biology. Other feminists (Charlotte Perkins Gillman, 1869-1935; Emma Goldman, 1869-1940; Virginia Woolf, 1882-1941; Simone de Beauvoir, 1908- ; Adrienne Rich, 1933- ; Mary Daly, 1935- ; Shulasmith Firestone, 1918-) have begun to look closely at the conceptual distinction between sex and gender, suggesting that the distinction itself may have what one feminist calls "a false clarity" (Palmeri, 1980). A consequence of this has been a renewed series of efforts to conceptualize the nature of women and men. Although contemporary feminists focus mainly on women, their work has implications for political philosophy as a whole. One result of their work is that the adult white male should no longer be taken to represent all of humanity, nor the adult white male experience to encompass all that is important in human life. Contemporary feminism has come to challenge traditional androcentric paradigms 48 of human nature and traditional androcentric definitions of political philosophy. If these feminist critiques are demonstrated to be valid then they will necessitate a reconstruction not only of political philosophy, but of the human sciences as well. As Christine Delphy (1979) points out: Materialist feminism is therefore an intellectual approach whose coming is crucial both for social movements, for the feminist struggle, and for knowledge. This project would not be - could not be, even if desired - limited to a single population, to the sole oppression of women. It will not leave untouched any aspect of reality, any domain of knowledge, any aspect of the world. As the feminist movement aims at revolution in social reality, the theoretical feminist point of view (and each is indispensable to each other) must also aim at a revolution in knowledge. (p. 64). Feminism as Political Philosophy In a sense, feminism has always existed. Certainly, as long as women have been subordinated, feminists have resisted that subordination. Sometimes the resistance has been collective and conscious; at other times it has been solitary and only half conscious, as when women have sought to escape from their socially prescribed roles through illness, drug and alcohol addiction, and even madness. Despite the continuity of women's resistance, however, only within the last two or three hundred years has a visible and widespread feminist movement emerged that has attempted to struggle in an organized way against women's special oppression. The first unmistakably feminist voices were heard in England in the 17th century (Aphra Benn, 1640-1689; Mary Astell, 1668-1731). In the next- 200 years, more voices began to speak together and were heard also in France and the United States. Organized feminism emerged in a period of 49 economic and political transformation; industrial capitalism was beginning to develop, and Britain, France and the United States were adopting political systems of representative democracy. These economic and political changes drastically altered women's situation and also the way in which women perceived their situation. Much of this alteration was the result of the transformation in the economic and political significance of the family. In the earl}' modern period, (1640-1760) production was organized through the household and noble families still had substantial political influence, even though the feudal system had been replaced by the centralized nation-state. By virtue of their family membership, women were guaranteed a certain status both in production and in government, although this status was always lower than that of men. Noblewomen savored considerable political power through the influence of their families, and married women who were not of "noble rank had substantial economic power within their families because production was organized through the household. In the pre-industrial era, most women were solidly integrated into the system of productive work necessary for a family's survival. In this era, childcare and what we now consider domestic work occupied only a small proportion of women's time. . We must remember that adolescence is a recent phenomena. You were a child or an adult. In addition to these tasks, most women made a substantial contribution to food production by keeping poultry and bees, making dairy products and cultivating vegetables; they were responsible for food processing and preservation; they spun cotton and wool and then sewed or knitted the results of their labours into clothes; they made soap and candles, accumulated considerable empirical knowledge and produced efficacious 50 herbal remedies. The importance of women's contribution to social survival was so evident that there seemed no reason to raise questions about it; women's place in the social order appeared as a natural necessity. The impact of industrialization, together with the formulating of the democratic state, undermined and finallj' transformed the traditional relationships that had defined pre-industrial society. It significantly transformed the family and thereby disrupted women's traditional position. Women of the upper classes lost political power, with the decline of aristocratic families and the emergence of the democratic state. At the same time women of the lower classes had the basis of their economic power undermined as industrialization removed much of their traditional work out of the home and into the factory. Even though many women and children were employed in the factories, especially in the early ones, the industrialization of their traditional work meant that women lost control over such vital industries as food processing, textile manfacturing and garment manufacture. Women's reduced contribution to the household increased their economic dependence on their husbands and diminished their power within the family group. As has become evident with hindsight, the further away one gets from nature the less control one has in one's job. While the decline in the economic and political significance of the family tended to undercut women's economic and political status, it held the promise of a new status for women, one not predicated on their family membership. For example, the factory system and the opportunity for wage labour opened to women for the first time the prospect of economic independence outside the 51 household and apart from husbands or extended family. Furthermore, the new democratic ideals of equality and individual autonomy provided a basis for challenging traditional assumptions of women's natural subordination to men. The contradictory results of these economic and political developments meant that women's position in society was no longer perceived as a natural necessity. Instead, women became what Marxists called "a question." That question concerned the proper place of women in industrial societj' and many answers were proposed. Organized feminism emerged as women's answer to this question. In the two or three centuries of its existence, organized feminism has not spoken with a single voice. Just as feminism first arose in response to the changing conditions of 17th century England, so changing circumstances since that time have altered the focus of feminist demands. As an example, suffrage, temperance, and birth control have all been, at one time or another, the object of organized feminist campaigns. The most recent resurgence of feminism occurred in the late 1960s with the rise of women's liberation movement. This movement surpassed all earlier waves of feminism in the breadth of its concerns and the depths of its critiques. It was far less unified than previous feminist movements, offering a multitude of analyses of. women's oppression and a profusion of visions of women's liberation. 52 Feminism and Women's Liberation Feminism was originally a French word. It referred to what in the 19th century United States was called the woman movement: a diverse collection of groups all aimed, each in their own way, at "advancing" the position of women (Jagger, 1983). When the word "feminism" was introduced into the United States in the early 20th century, however, it was used to refer only to one particular group of women's rights advocates, namely that group which asserted the uniqueness of women, the mystical experience of motherhood and women's special purity. Ehrenreich and English (1979) call this trend in the woman movement "sexual romanticism" and contrast it with the more dominant tendency of "sexual rationalism." In opposition to the romantic "feminists," the sexual rationalists argued that the subordination of women was irrational not because women were purer than men, but because of the basic similarities between women and men. In contemporary usage, the 19th century restriction on the meaning of "feminism" has again been lost. For the writer "feminism" is practised by all those who seek, no matter on what grounds, to end women's subordination. This inclusive definition of feminism is opposed to the usage by persons who exert feminism as an imprimatur to bestow upon those we agree with. Because feminist claims touch all aspects of our lives, the term feminism carries a potent emotional charge. For some, it is a pejorative term; for others, it is honorific. Consequently, some people deny the title feminist to those who would claim it, and some seek to bestow it on those who would reject it. This writer, 53 like many feminists, thinks that this practice is not only sectarian but misleads us about history. Just as an inadequate theory of justice is still a conception of justice, so the writer would contend that an inadequate feminist theory is still a conception of feminism. The women's liberation movement, as indicated previously, is the major version of feminism in contemporary western society. The very name of the movement reflects the political context from which it emerged and provides a clue to some of the ways in which it differs from earlier forms of feminism. Earlier feminists used the language of rights and equality, but in the late 1960s oppression and liberation became the key words for the political activists of the new left. In the proliferation of liberation movements (black liberation, gay liberation, Third World liberation, and so on) it was inevitable that the new feminism should call itself women's liberation. The change in language reflects a significant development in the political perspective of contemporary feminism. The etymological origin of the word oppression lies in the Latin oppressus for "press down" or "press against." This root suggests that people who are oppressed suffer some kind of restriction on their freedom. Freedom is not licence nor is freedom the right to be rude. Not all restrictions on people's freedom, however, are oppressive. Some would suggest that people are not oppressed by simple natural phenomena, such as gravitational forces, blizzards or droughts. However, others might suggest that persons can be oppressed by such non-human phenomena as the weather and possibly even phases of the moon. Others believe instead that oppression is the result of human agency, humanly 54 imposed restrictions on people's freedom. The conceptual connection between oppression and human agency is presupposed by the fact that it is unjust, at least as justice is conceived in modern times. Questions of justice are considered to arise only with regard to situations that result from human agency. For example, it is neither just nor unjust that some individuals are born with physical handicaps, so long as their handicaps cannot be traced to some prior unjust situation, such as the avoidable malnutrition of their mothers or exposure to avoidable environmental pollutants or harmful drugs. Not all humanly imposed limitations on people's freedom are oppressive, however. Oppression must also be unjust. Suppose you are in the proverbial lifeboat with nine other people, that there is sufficient food only for six but that those in the lifeboat decide democratically to divide the food into ten equal parts. Here you would be prevented from eating your fill as the result of some human action but you could not complain that this restriction on your freedom was oppressive as long as you accepted the democratic decision as just. Thus, oppression is the imposition of unjust constraints on the freedom of individuals or groups: Liberation is the correlate of oppression. It is release from oppressive constraints. From these definitions it is apparent that there are conceptual connections between oppression and liberation and the traditional political ideals of freedom and justice. To speak of oppression and liberation, however, is not simply to introduce new words for old ideas. While the concepts of oppression and liberation are linked conceptually to the familiar philosophical concepts of freedom, 55 justice, and equality, they cannot be reduced without loss to those concepts. Talk of oppression and liberation introduces not just a new political terminologj' but a new perspective on political phenomena. It is a perspective that presupposes a dynamic rather than a static view of society and one that is influenced by Marxist ideas of class struggle. Oppression is the "imposition" of constraints; it suggests that the problem is not the result of bad luck, ignorance or prejudice but is caused rather by one group actively subordinating another group to its own interest. Thus, to talk of oppression seems to commit feminists to a world view that includes at least two groups with conflicting interests: the oppressors and the oppressed. It is a world view, moreover, that strongly suggests that liberation is unlikely to be achieved by rational debate but instead must be the result of political struggle (Feinberg, 1973; Bayles, 1973; Beauchamp, 1975; Rich, 1976; Daly, 1978; Rawls, 1978; Gelpi, 1979, Gramsci, 1979; Eichler, 1980; Richards, 1982; Buttedahl, 1984; Freire, 1984; Morgan, 1984). The emphasis on the process of struggle, rather than its ends, relieves those who advocate liberation from the need to attempt a complete characterization of the end at which they aim. It weakens the temptation to plan Utopias by the recognition that our conception of what it is to be liberated must be subject to constant revision. As human knowledge of nature, including human nature, develops, we gain more insight into possible human good and learn how good may be achieved through the increased understanding of our material desires and what these do to our environment if unchecked. Through this process, the sphere of human agency is constantly increased. Drought is no 56 longer an act of God but can be the result of failure to practice suitable water, soil, flora and fauna conservation measures; disease and malnutrition are no longer inevitabilities but can be the result of social policy and greed. Consequently, constraints that once were viewed as natural necessities are transformed into instances of oppression; simultaneously, the possible domain of human liberation is constantly being extended. In principle, therefore, human liberation is not some finally achieveable situation; instead, it is the process of eliminating forms of oppression as long as they continue to arise. (One might use a gardening allegory - tending weeds in innocence or pulling them out, is it oppression by omission or by commission). Women's Liberation and Political Philosophy New perspectives notwithstanding, there is a continuity between the traditional and the contemporary feminists projects. In seeking liberation, contemporary feminists take over the interest of their predecessors in freedom, justice, and equality. Their concern with the traditional concepts of political philosophy means that feminists cannot avoid the familiar philosophical controversies over the proper interpretation of these concepts. Apparently, interminable disagreement over what should count as freedom, justice, and equality has led to the characterization of these concepts as essentially contested (Gallie, 1955-56; Maclntyre, 1973), and much of political philosophy itself may be viewed as a continuing series of attempts to defend alternative conceptions of freedom, justice, and equality. In developing its own interpretation of these 57 ideals, women's liberation engages in political philosophy. Partly because of their traditional training and parti}' in an attempt to "legitimate" the philosophy of feminism, academic philosophers have tended to discuss feminist issues in terms of the older and more familiar concepts. By contrast, the grass-roots discussions of non-academic feminists have revolved around questions of oppression. The language of these grass-roots discussions has raised different philosophical questions of oppression and liberation. Some questions posed are: What is the precise nature of women's special oppression? Does the nature of their oppression vary for different groups of women? Can individual women escape oppression? If women are oppressed, who are their oppressors? Can one be an unknowing or unintentional oppressor? May oppressors themselves be oppressed? Can individual members of the oppressor group refrain from oppressing women so long as the group, as such, continues to exist? To each of these questions, contemporary feminists have provided a range of competing answers. Feminist political philosophers thus use both traditional and non-traditional categories in attempting to describe and evaluate women's experience. In either case, they often raise issues that may seem foreign to political philosophy as it is currently conceived. For instance, they ask questions about the ideas of love, friendship, or sexuality. They wonder what it would mean to democratize housework or childcare. They even challenge entrenched views about the naturalness of sexual intercourse and childbearing. Their demands or slogans are unfamiliar and may appear non-political. They demand: control of their 58 bodies, an end to sexual objectification, and reproductive rights. They even assert that the personal is political. In focussing on these issues, feminist theorists are exploring the possibility of applying existing political categories to domains of human existence that hitherto have been considered to lie beyond the sphere of politics. Thus, feminist reflections on equality for women consider not only the questions of equal opportunity and preferential treatment for women in the marketplace but whether equality requires paid maternity leave, the issue of single career women choosing to bear and rear a child on their own, and the topic of in vitro fertilization. As a feminist, it is maintained that equity is what we are seeking rather than the illusory concept of equality. By raising such topics, contemporary feminists are giving a new focus to political philosophy. Rather than simply providing new answers to old problems, they seek to demonstrate that the problems themselves have been conceived too narrowly. In reconceptualizing old problems or in raising new ones, contemporary feminism is providing novel tests for the adequacy of existing political theories. Where traditional political theory seems inadequate, feminism is beginning to suggest alternative ways of conceptualizing social reality and political possibility. By seeking to extend the traditional domain of political philosophy, contemporary feminism challenges both existing political theories and our conception of political philosophy itself. Thus, to summarize, political philosophy is devoted ultimately to practical ends. Consequently, the adequacy of a political theory is tested Finally by the 59 kinds of political activity that it encourages and the levels of success achieved in overcoming forms of domination. Our fears tempt us to lower the consciousness we struggle to raise, in the hopes that we can find a rationale for making do with what is available. We need ways of balancing the insight that every aspect of life has a political dimension against the recognition that contemporary society allows only limited means for the satisfaction of individual or collective need and that, in any case, the needs of us all have been shaped and distorted by an authoritarian male and capitalist society, the education we receive, both formal and informal, and the roles we are expected to fulfill. As long as the basic structure of contemporary society remains unchanged, these contradictions are unresolvable. So that the reader might gain further insight into the complexities of the value and belief systems inherent in our Western society, a brief sketch of political ideologies, developed over the past two to three hundred years, is now presented. 60 CHAPTER III P O L I T I C A L IDEOLOGIES Political doxa or Ideology The usual contemporary word for political "doxa" is "ideology", described by Sargent (1978) in these terms: A n ideology is a value or belief system that is accepted as fact or truth by some group. It is comprised of sets of attitudes towards various institutions and processes of society. It provides the believer with a picture of the world both as it is and as it should be, and, in so doing, it organizes the tremendous complexity of the world into something fairly simple and understandable. . . . An ideology must be a more or less connected set of beliefs that provide the believer with a fairly thorough picture of the world (p. 110). Several aspects of this description merit further comment. (a) Ideology is not a mere personal opinion but a social belief that is accepted by large numbers of people and passed on by the normal channels of cultural transmission. If a person feels surrounded by enemies at home and at work who wish to ruin him, that is personal paranoia; but if as a leader of the Soviet Union that person feels that his country is encircled by hostile capitalist powers who wish to destroy his country, then this is a tenet of communist ideolog}'. (b) Ideology always involves a mixture of factual and .moral beliefs. Since governmental legitimacy is an inherently ethical problem, ideology always contains beliefs about how men should act and what they should consider right or wrong. 61 (c) Ideology, as a mass belief, is somewhat simplified. The infinite complexity of the world is reduced to simpler ideas that can be understood by large numbers of people who, after all, must devote most of their time to concerns other than the study of politics (this belief can only be based on the perception that the masses cannot possibly understand, nor even want to, the issues that impinge upon their daily existence). (d) A n ideology is not a random collection of opinions but a more or less organized system of beliefs that fit together logically. It is important to say "more or less," for the integration is never perfect. A l l of us have some surprising contradictions in our opinions. However, there is a large difference between an orderly, interrelated set of ideas and an assortment of unrelated opinions. In this sense, ideologies are espoused by intellectuals in politics: lawyers, teachers, journalists, and politicians who carry on public debate in ideological terms. But it is doubtful whether many "ordinary" people, even among the well-educated populace, can be said to have ideologies if one agrees with the prior comments. They are more likely to believe in an assortment of rather conflicting ideological fragments: to be liberal on some points, socialist on others and so forth. According to Dickerson and Flanagan (1982) ". . .the ordinary people are not much bothered by an inconsistency in their views. . ." (p. 146) because Dickerson's and Flanagan's perception is that people probably expend relatively little thought on social and political questions. It is not unusual, for instance, for respondents to say that taxes are too high while simultaneously 62 demanding higher levels of public spending on education, health, old-age pensions, job creation, and roads. One interesting aspect of the term ideology is the negative connotations it carries. The word is often used as a weapon to degrade ideas with which one disagrees. Dismissing them as "mere ideology" is a common tactic in an argument. The reasons why this is possible are worth being acquainted with. The word "ideology" was coined in 1796 by the French philosopher Antoine Destutt de Tracy who gave it a meaning quite different from the one it bears today. For Destutt de Tracy, ideology was to be the name of a new science, the study of human consciousness in all its aspects. When Destutt de Tracy, who had once been a supporter of Napoleon, began to criticize the emperor, the latter responded by ridiculing de Tracy's new science of ideology as an obscure doctrine and the men who espoused it as "ideologues" (Destutt de Tracy, 1796/1982). The concept of ideology could possibly have died out except that Marx and Engels picked it up and redefined it to express one of the most noteworthy ideas in their system. They used it as part of their theory that all human thought rests upon an economic basis, that art, science, literature, law, and political thought reflect the underlying economic conditions of their creators. Marx instructed that one should always distinguish the "economic conditions of production," which are the essence of class conflict, from the legal, political, religious, aesthetic, or philosophic, that is, ideological forms, in which men become conscious of this conflict and fight it out. Economic relations are the "foundation, on which rise legal and political superstructures and to which 63 correspond definite forms of social consciousness" (Marx, 1859/1959, p. 162). Marx's viewpoint implied derogatory connotations on the term "ideology," for he regarded his own theory as science - "scientific socialism." Other men's beliefs were ideology, whereas his were science. Marx had a profound, albeit debatable, reason for thinking this, and yet it is easy to see how the word can become a mere polemical weapon in the hands of some. Moreover, there is much that is obviously true in Marx's insight. The intellectual world clearly does have some relation to the. economic milieu that surrounds it. Marx's insight was of such significance that the term in which he expressed it was bound to become popular. However, as it often happens, the word has become detached from the particular theory that gave it currency. Today, when a belief system is labelled an ideology in a derogatory way, the detractor might mean many of several things. He might imply that the beliefs are not really thought through and would not stand comparison to a well-developed philosophy (such as his own). Or he may mean that the beliefs are a not-very-subtle expression of self-interest on the part of some group that is trying to assert itself. Or, in agreeing with the sociologist Kar l Mannheim (1936), he might mean that the beliefs are a rationalization of the status quo, inherently conservative in function. In this section the use of the term is not intended to have any of these special implications, ideology is used simply as a convenient, contemporary word for political ideas in action - ideas not as they are found in the philosopher's den but as they motivate large numbers of people. It is important, however, to 64 be aware of the many other connotations of the term, since one will certainly encounter them elsewhere. A discussion of four of the predominant ideologies in the contemporary world will now be presented: liberalism, conservatism, socialism and nationalism. Up to a point, it is useful to analyze them as systems of ideas or beliefs. However, one must remember that all ideologies are abstractions. What exists are real people with individual thoughts, and organizations that adopt statements or programs. It is unlikely that the beliefs of any person or organization perfectly fit the description given here of particular ideologies. Yet there are tendencies and common concerns that unite diverse thinkers, even if they do not agree on every point. No two people, identified as liberal or socialist will think identically, but there will certainly be recognizable patterns in their ideas. Also, one should not think of ideologies as fixed creeds, from which a thinker is excommunicated if she or he varies on any point. From this perspective, the writer submits, it is a waste of time to argue whether someone "is" or "is not" a liberal, conservatist or socialist. With this proviso in mind, the concept of a structured ideology can be a helpful device for showing how ideas are interrelated. Although it is perhaps not readily apparent, these four ideologies are members of an interrelated family, exhibitive of modern systems of thought. Although they have earlier common roots, they have taken on distinctive form only in the last two hundred years (Sargent, 1978). None of the terms liberalism, socialism, conservatism or nationalism were used to denote a system 65 of thought before the early decades of the nineteenth century. These "isms" furnish the terms of discourse about politics in the modern world, but they are not a universal and permanent vocabulary of mankind. Another similarity is that all four are secular in orientation. Belief in God can be and has been combined with each of them, but it is not essential. A l l four ideologies are humanistic, not in the sentimental sense of kindness or generosity, but in the philosophical sense of being centred about man. A l l four propose human happiness on earth as an undoubted goal. Each has a different waj' of getting there, but the goal remains the same. In 1789 Jeremy Bentham an early liberal, expressed this when he said, "The business of government is to promote the happiness of the society, by punishing and rewarding, not to fulfill the will of God or to prepare men for the next life: These may be important things, but they are not the business of government" (p. 192). Marx's humanism was even more militant, picturing belief in God as a barrier to man creating happiness for himself. "Religion," wrote Marx, "is only the illusory sun about which man revolves so long as he does not revolve about himself." (Marx, 1843/1964, p. 163). Humanism is not always as forceful as it is in Marx's teachings, but it is a common trait of modern ideologies. This means that the arguments among them are instrumental ones about the best means for achieving human happiness on earth which is the ultimate goal common to all the ideologies. The ideologies proposed for study, also presuppose a widespread belief that society is something that human beings can change, reform, or mold according to 66 their desires. Liberalism, socialism, and nationalism all have programs or agendas of social change to be undertaken by government. Conservatism differs in believing that society is too complex to be improved by conscious human designs. However, it would not exist as a self-conscious ideology except for the challenges posed by the other ideologies. If it had not occurred to anyone that mankind could take charge of and deliberately improve society, there would have been no occasion for the development of a conservative ideology that argues against such possibilities (Orwell, 1933, 1937). Thus the modern confidence in social improvement is the backdrop to all contemporary ideologies. Finally, all the ideologies stem from the same historical situation, symbolized by the French Revolution. It is the transition from traditional to legal authority and legitimacy. .Broadly speaking, liberalism celebrates this transition as the emancipation of man from bondage. Conservatism is suspicious of it, fearing that the accumulated wisdom of the past will be lost if the transition is too abrupt. Socialism is ambiguous about it, welcoming the demise of traditional authority, but also fearing that the freedom created by legal authority will produce a new aristocracy of wealth even more exploitative than the old aristocracy of inherited privilege. Nationalism also welcomes the transition to legal authority but seeks to formulate a new form of political identity to replace traditional ones. Thus it is no accident that the great ideologies of our age appeared almost simultaneously upon the political scene at the end of the eighteenth century. The French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars were the visible signs of the underlying social change. These events in Europe proved to be a rehearsal for similar changes throughout the world 67 (Watkins 1964; Keynes, 1975; Sargent, 1978). This then is the unifying theme of our era, often called the age of ideology. However, before presenting the four ideologies it is necessary to mention constitutionalism and the rule of law. They are not ideologies as such but are an essential part of the fabric of politics and societies and, therefore, a brief sketch is included for the reader. Constitutionalism A constitution is a set of fundamental rules that generally: (1) establishes the powers and responsibilities of the legislative, executive, and judicial branches of government; (2) allocates powers to different levels of government, such as federal, provincial, and local; (3) enumerates the rights of citizens against each other and against the government, as in a bill of rights; and (4) stipulates a procedure for amendment of the constitution. The phrase "fundamental rules" is used advisedly because a constitution comprises both laws that are enforceable in the courts and customs or conventions that are enforceable only in the sense that a government may lose political support by violating them. Although useful, this distinction is not as firm as it appears; for courts have no power to enforce anything unless they are obeyed by those who control the coercive apparatus of the state. This obedience is at bottom no more than a custom, based upon politicians' belief that public opinion wishes the courts to be obeyed. In the last analysis, law and convention are two related manifestations of the same spirit of constitutionalism and the rule of law (Feuer, 1975). 68 The Rule of Law Law in the broadest sense means a rule or regularity of behaviour of an element in the universe. The motion of falling bodies on the earth or of the planets in the heavens is described by the laws of gravitation. Certain changes in living species are described by the laws of evolution. Human behaviour in dealing with scarce resources is described by the laws of supply and demand. Laws or regularities such as these make the universe intelligible. Without law there would only be the unpredictability of random motion and thus no order, life or intelligence. Law, also, is the foundation of society, which is essentially a group of people living together under the same laws. Some things are so socially important, however, that they cannot be left to spontaneous self-correction. Ordered society demands that, at the very least, we know which family we belong to and which material things are within our control. Thus all societies have rules about the family and property that are coercively enforced. The enforcement of law performs a number of functions for society, conveniently remembered as (another) four R's: retribution, restitution, rehabilitation, and restraint. Retribution is the punishment of those who violate the norms of society. Restitution is the provision of compensation to those who have been damaged by rule-breakers. Rehabilitation is a change in conduct that will prevent law-breaking in the future. And restraint is the deterrence that is imposed by fear upon those who cannot be swayed by other means. 69 Two general points about rules are worth noting. First, we do not need to "know what" a rule is in order to follow it, we only need to "know how" to act. Language, for example, is a complex system of rules, which are recorded in grammar books. We all learn to speak by imitation long before, if ever, we have any ability to say what the rules are. Similarly, as children we learn what kind of behaviour is just and fair long before we develop an abstract notion of the rules of justice. As children we can honour a rule of not grabbing another's toys. Second, rules may be but are not necessarily designed by conscious intelligence. They may grow over time in an evolutionary process of trial and error, as is true of habits, customs, and a great many laws. These observations help to explain the two main kinds of law. The older kind of law found in all societies is evolut ional or customary law, which arises gradually without ever being "made" at an identifiable moment in time. The newer kind of law, legislation, is consciously formulated and deliberately constructed. Both kinds of rules are equally capable of being enforced, hence both are equally valid as-law (Hart, 1961). Liberalism The word "liberal" comes from the Latin liber, meaning "free." Before it became a political word, it had well-established usages, such as a "liberal" (generous) giver, or the "liberal arts," which refers to the studies worthy of a free man. It first was used as a political term during the Napoleonic Wars, becoming common later in the nineteenth century with the establishment of the 70 Liberal party in Britain. However, the ideas of liberalism are older than the name: Broadly speaking, liberalism is a product of the constitutional tradition of the West. More specifically, it is an outgrowth of the English Whig tradition of liberty under law. Prominent Whig thinkers were John Locke (1637-1704) and Edmund Burke (1729-1797) in England, Adam Smith (1723-1790) and David Hume (1711-1774) in Scotland and Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) and James Madison (1751-1836) in America. These men did not call themselves liberals, but they elaborated the principles later know as liberalism. They were followed by writers such as Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832) John Stuart Mi l l (1805-1873) and his French contemporary Alexis de Tocqueville (1805-1859), who consciously thought of themselves as liberals. The history of liberalism reveals four interrelated principles involved in the broad concept of freedom: (1) personal freedom; (2) limited government; (3) equality of right; and (4) consent of the governed. These concepts, which are part of constitutionalism, are briefly outlined here. Personal freedom refers to the absence of coercion in the various realms of life. It includes free speech, religious liberty, private property, and the right of political opposition. Limited government means that the state is understood as an instrument serving a particular function in society rather than being in general charge of all of society. Equality of right implies that all must abide by the same laws impartially enforced by the state. Consent of the governed means that government emanates from the people, is responsible to them and may be changed by them; it is a moderate and practical way of implementing the 71 doctrine of popular sovereignty (Dickerson & Flanagan, 1982). These four principles mark the entire liberal tradition from Locke, who did not call himself a liberal, to the twentieth century. Indeed there is such wide acceptance of these principles today that almost everyone in the Western world pays at least lip service to them. However, it should be noted, there is a deep division within liberalism, and this may be distinguished as the older classical liberalism and the newer reform liberalism. Classical liberalism was the dominant ideology in the nineteenth century in Britain, North America, and much of Western Europe. It accepted these four principles in a straightforward and literal way. In particular, it identified personal freedom with a free market or laissez-faire ("let alone") economy. Reform liberalism, which began as a reform movement within the British Liberal party at the end of the nineteenth century, has become dominant in the twentieth century. It is an attempt to graft certain features of socialism onto the liberal tradition, in particular to use the state to modify the market system without abolishing it altogether (Dickerson & Flanagan, 1982). The differences between classical liberalism and reform liberalism may be summarized in terms of the four principles: First, for classical liberals, freedom is simply the absence of coercion. Without totally rejecting this definition, reform liberals try to add another dimension. They usually think of freedom in terms of capacity, arguing that freedom from coercion means little unless 72 means of attainment are provided. The Canadian journalist Pierre Berton (1968) expressed this position well in his book The Smug Minority: A poor man is not free and a destitute man is as much a prisoner as a convict; indeed a convict generally eats better. A man who can't afford a streetcar ticket, let alone real travel, who can exercise no real choice in matters of food, clothing, and shelter, who cannot follow the siren song of the TV commercials, who can scarcely afford bus fare to the library let alone a proper education for himself or his children -is such a man free in an affluent nation? (p. 64). Here Berton is saying the poor people are not "really" free, even though they are not apparently being actively coerced. Absence of financial means and education limits peoples opportunities in life as effectively as if they were kept down by force. This difference in understanding of freedom is not an inconsequential matter; it is at the hub of the difference between the old and the new liberalism. The classical liberal emphasizes the absence of coercion, freedom in the sense of being left alone to choose one's rules of conduct, as long as they do not infringe on the freedom of others to do likewise. The reform liberal, on the other hand, may wish to use governmental power, even coercion if need be, to reduce the freedom of some in order to provide economic opportunities for others. The reform liberal will justify this in terms of freedom, arguing that he is increasing the sum of "real" .liberty in society by furnishing people with the means to achieve their goals. The two types of liberals use the same words but do not speak the same language of meaning. Their different conceptions of freedom lead to different ideas about the role of the state in economic life. Specifically, economic freedom and the market system are no longer accorded the same primacy in reform liberalism as in classical liberalism (Ball, 1977; 73 Bramsted & Melhuish, 1978). Second, classical liberals see the state in negative terms. Its role is primarily to prevent people from harming each other through force or fraud. To this end, it uses force to protect the community from external attack and to punish those who commit acts of aggression or deception toward each other. Beyond these functions the state does relatively little, leaving men to work out their own destiny in society. The classical liberal idea of government has been caricatured as the "night-watchman state," which is only the caretaker of society. Reform liberals accept these caretaking functions, but they wish to add to them a positive or interventionist state role of promoting freedom in the additional sense of capacity. They want the state to be a positive force ensuring social welfare in the broad sense - leisure, knowledge, security - for those who might not otherwise achieve or be able to entertain these deals as goals. Thus the two different views of freedom lead to two different conceptions of the duties of the state (Dahl, 1976; Ball, 1977). Third, for classical liberals, equality of right means only that all abide by the same rules. It definitely does not imply equality of condition (that is, equality of outcome or result). Classical liberals accept that there will always be inequality of wealth, status, and power. Reform liberals, while not committed to a wholesale equalization of conditions, desire to reduce economic and social differences. Thus, they have often adopted what was originally a socialist formula, equality of opportunity. 74 It is not difficult to recognize that equality of right and equality of condition are two different things: one corresponds to a negative, the other to a positive use of the state. But equality of opportunity is an elusive concept, which seems initially to call upon the state to ensure that none are prevented by others from having a chance to make a success of themselves. If that were all that was meant it would be little different from equality of right. However, equality of opportunity in today's vocabulary usually implies a claim for positive state action to equalize men's starting points in life. Opportunities, by themselves, are never equal. One child is born to wealth, another to poverty. One child is born to industrious, thrifty parents who save for the child's education and encourage the child's progress through school, while another child is born to parents who care nothing for learning. One child is born beautiful, another not so endowed. Obviously we can do little about many of these inequalities; but if equality of opportunity is to have any meaning beyond lip service, the state will have to take positive steps to overcome handicaps that cannot be reasonably blamed on the child, and this must include gender. Therefore, government may provide education through a system of public schools or other educational facilities trying to establish that all may start with the same sort of education or have access to it during their lifetime. Or at another level it may offer financial assistance to help with professional training and job obtainment, something that their parents may have been unable to afford for them. Such measures would go much farther than the classical liberal conception of equality of right. This is not to equate equal opportunity with attempting to say this brings about equal talent or equal ability (Dahl, 1976; 75 Bramstead & Melhuish, 1978). Fourth, consent of the governed, to classical liberals, did not necessarily entail democracy in the sense of universal sufferage. It was enough if government was accountable to a sizeable section of the population. Thus some classical liberals in the nineteenth century often favoured a property franchise, that is, a requirement to own a stipulated amount of property before receiving the right to vote (as an aside, this area has a facinating history of larceny, much like our present income tax forms but not so prosaic. The said propertj^'s size was manipulated, dependent on the way it was taxed, whether it was the width of the windows or the length of the building front on the street, as examples. Thus one can date various house architectural styles, such as tall narrow windows or narrow frontages with deep taller buidings as innovative, evasive measures of the times, in order to pay as little as possible in taxes, yet the property assumed quite different "rhetorical" proportions in terms of the power it obtained for the owner as a man of property) (Forster, 1926/1973). Visualizing government as being largely for the protection of property, classical liberals felt it reasonable to entrust government to those who possessed substantial amounts of property and who paid most of the taxes to support the state. Reform liberals, in contrast, are substantially democratic. Since they put so much emphasis on the positive use of the state to provide for the common welfare, they consequently think it important that everyone have a share of political power. Classical liberals, having a much more restricted view of state action, do not see democracy as such an urgent necessity, though they need not oppose it in principle (Bramsted & Melhuish, 1978). 76 Reform liberalism has much in common with democratic socialism. It differs from socialism in that it has adopted the liberal rhetoric of freedom rather than the socialist rhetoric of planning, but the specific ideas about the role of the state in society are similar in the two ideologies. For historical reasons, the term socialist has been unpopular in North America, whereas it is more respected in Europe. Many who are known as liberals in North America might well be named social democrats if they lived in Europe. One final note of special relevance to Canadians: The writer in this thesis discusses the two types of liberalism as ideologies, that is, small-l liberalism. The ideologies are only loosely connected with the capital-L Liberal party of modern Canada. The Liberal and the Progressive Conservative parties each contain persons whose ideologies are, in the terms outlined in this work, classical liberal as well as reform liberal. The Liberals lean a bit to the reform liberal (left) side, the Conservatives to the classical liberal (right); but the difference is not profound. Thus party labels and ideological names must be carefully distinguished in Canadian politics. Conservatism To conserve is to save or preserve. Thus we would expect a conservative to be a person who wishes to keep society as it is and who is sceptical about change. Conservatism in this sense is a disposition "to prefer the familiar to the unknown . . . the tried to the untried, fact to mystery, the actual to the possible, the limited to the unbounded, the near to the distant, the sufficient to 77 the superabundant, the convenient to the perfect, present laughter to Utopian bliss." So stated Michael Oakshott (1962, p. 75), a contemporary British political theorist and a widely known conservative. This preference for the present over the conjectural future rests upon a sober assessment of human nature. The Canadian historian W.L . Morton (1959) presented it this way: To the theologian, this is the belief in original sin, the belief that man is by nature imperfect and may be made perfect only by redemption and grace. In philosophic terms, it is a denial of the fundamental liberal and Marxist belief that human nature is inherently perfectible, and that man may realize the perfection that is in him if only the right environment is created (p. 233). Thus, the limitations of human nature make it imprudent for mankind to embark on large-scale ventures of social transformation, according to conservative thinking. Much that is good may be lost with little likelihood of reaching "Utopian bliss." This attitude can also be defended with arguments drawn from social science, particularly from the idea of spontaneous order. The main point is that spontaneous order acts as a vast filter for selecting desirable, and discarding undesirable, innovations. Such an order consists of millions of intelligences freely cooperating under suitable rules. Any innovation, for instance, a new idea in science, a new trend in art or a new product in business, is subjected to the repeated, independent scrutiny of countless persons who will decide whether to accept, imitate, or purchase the innovation. Any given individual may make a poor decision, but there is a presumption that in time the right decision or course of action will emerge. This is in the main true since the testing process continues over decades or generations. 78 Thus there is some reason to assume that the present way of doing things is socially useful. If a better way existed, the chances are that it would have already been adopted. But this is only a probability, not a certainty. The fact that progress occurs shows that some innovations do have value - even if many do not. Thus the conservative tends to adopt a cautious attitude toward changes, wanting to see their usefulness demonstrated before adopting them. This is not necessarily hostility to change as such, but, peut-etre, respect for wisdom inherited from the past and caution in the face of an unknown future. The reformer, whose proposals seem so obviously beneficial (in her or his own eyes), is often impatient with this conservative attitude. The conservative would reply (in her or his own defence) that existing institutions already have the tacit approval of millions of minds over generations of time. This is a powerful counterweight to the reformer's confidence in her or his own ideas. The reformer's proposals may in fact be correct, but upon the reformer must rest the burden of proof. An interesting consequence of conservatism is respect for habits and customs whose rationale may no longer be immediately apparent. Conservatives assume that there is a tacit wisdom in inherited patterns of behaviour. People may not understand all the reasons for what they do, but they may still be doing the right thing in following custom. Reformers, in contrast, are often quick to condem what they do not understand, preferring conscious reason to inarticulate habit. 79 The conservative theory of change is closely associated with the Anglo-Irish parliamentarian Edmund Burke (1729-1797), who gave it an influential formulation. Burke (1795/1980) was moved to reflect upon change by his observation of the French Revolution. In 1789, Louis X V I convened the Estates-General, a medieval type of consultative body that had not met since 1614. The King's goal was to raise new taxes, but events quickly eluded his control. Change followed change with dizzying rapidity. The Rights of Man was declared and a parliamentary system created. The last remnants of feudalism were abolished, and the property of the Catholic Church was nationalized. The old provinces were replaced by geometrically drawn departements. Even weights and measures were affected, as the National Assembly commissioned the preparation of a study that led to the metric system. A l l this, as well as other important things, was quickly done in ,an exalted spirit of reform: the rationalism of the Enlightenment, finally put into practice, would remodel society. The results were not what had been expected. Within four years France was, under the dictatorship of Maximilien Robespierre, in what historians usually refer to as the terror. France was at war with the rest of Europe. Louis X V I and Marie Antoinette had been put to death on the guillotine, a novel, but unimitated form of execution. Thousands of other opponents of Robespierre also went to the guillotine, and alas he was finally rejected in the same manner. Political stability was restored solely by Napoleon, who ruled at least as autocratically as, and far more effectively than, any of the Bourbon kings had done (Burke, 1792/1955). A similar train of excesses has followed the overthrow of the Shah of Iran in 1979, and the author feels sure the reader could offer 80 other examples of this kind of happening. Thus Burke's views on sudden, revolutionary change are not merely of historical interest. Burke wrote Reflections on the Revolution in France (1791) before the worst excesses began, but he correctly predicted that turmoil and despotism would grow out of such a radical break with the past. His interpretation was that men are not wise enough to remake society all at once; that they must rely on the accumulated wisdom of the past as contained in customs, traditions and practices: We are afraid to put men to live and trade each on his own private stock of reason; because we suspect that this stock in each man is small, and that the individuals would do better to avail themselves of the general bank and capital of nations and ages. Many of our men of speculation, instead of exploding general prejudices, employ their sagacity to discover the latent which prevails in them. If they find what they seek, and they seldom fail, they think it more wise to continue the prejudice, with the reason involved, than to cast away the coat of prejudice, and to leave nothing but the naked reason; because prejudice, with its reason, has a motive to give action to that reason, and an affection which will give it permanence (p. 58). The contemporary reader is struck by Burke's praise of prejudice, which is today a word with negative connotations implying unfair discrimination. For Burke, prejudice meant literally pre-judgement that contained the latent wisdom of past experience. Men are not able to think their way through each new situation, so they have to fall back on rules of thumb that have served them well in the past. As a modern example, take the landlord who may refuse to rent to young unemployed males receiving welfare. In his defence, he can site several unhappy experiences with this type of young tenant who gave noisy parties, were delinquent in their rent payments and did not take care of the apartment and in some cases actually destroyed his property. The landlord's "prejudice" 81 against a category of people is, in a sense, unfair and irrational because not all members of the category behave the same way. Yet, is it irrational for the landlord to rely on his prejudice if he has no better way of predicting behaviour? He considers his past experience, limited as it may be, as better than nothing as a guide to the future. The conservative view expressed by Burke is that prejudice is not just an irrational closing of the mind but a necessary way of dealing - with a world in which adequate information is rarely available. Burke was not opposed to change as such (he spoke in defence of the American Revolution). But he wanted change to be gradual, so that inherited wisdom might not be lost. He said: We must all obey the great law of change. It is the most powerful law of nature, and perhaps of its conservation. All we can do, and that human wisdom can do, is to provide that the change shall proceed by insensible degrees. This has all the benefits which may be in change, without any of the inconveniences of mutation. This mode will, on the one hand, prevent the unfixing old interests at once: a thing which is apt to breed a black and sullen discontent in those who are at once dispossessed of all their influence and consideration. This gradual course, on the other hand, will prevent men, long under depression, from being intoxicated with a large draught of new power, which they always abuse with a licentious insolence. (1792/1960; p. 110). The conservative attitude toward change is perhaps best expressed in the maxim, "If it is not necessary to change, it is necessary not to change." In the absence of some compelling reason for innovation, it is desirable not to tamper with the status quo, which has at least shown some degree of viability. Alternatives that are superficially attractive may turn out to be much worse when they are tested in practice. In evaluating proposed reforms, the 82 conservative is aware that one is comparing something that exists and whose faults are therefore apparent to an idea that does not yet exist and whose faults may be unsuspected. Conservatism is a prejudice (in Burke's sense) against using the state's coercive power to sponsor large efforts of social change. The conservative will eventually give grudging approval to change that has taken place spontaneously through the accumulation of many individual decisions testing the effects of innovation at each stage. For conservatives, to use the state as an agency of rapid reform short-cuts this process, and may commit society to beautiful but unworkable visions. Edmund Burke (1792) expressed a unity of past, present, and future by metaphorically speaking of the state as a partnership across the generations: It is a partnership in all science; a partnership in all art; a partnership in every virtue and in all perfection. As the ends of such a partnership cannot be obtained in many generations, it becomes a partnership not only of those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born (p. 99). No one has better stated the conservative's sense of continuity. Thus, as explained here, conservatism is really an attitude, not a full-fledged ideology with a whole set of beliefs about man, society and government. By the conservative's own admission, the status quo is always changing and is never the same from year to year. Conservatism's commitment to the status quo paradoxically entails gradual acceptance of new principles as the content of the present reality changes. In this way, conservatism differs 83 markedly from liberalism or socialism, both of which are built around certain ideas regarded as universal truths. The classical liberal believes the market, and the socialist believes state planning, to be the most effective means of meeting human wants. Each will defend his preferred system where it exists and work for its introduction where it does not. The status quo is regarded as a secondary factor affecting the speed with which the desired goal may be achieved. The goal itself is intellectually derived as a matter of principle, and there is no commitment to what exists simply because it does exist. A consideration of some of Burke's opinions shows the complexities of being a conservative in a society whose traditions are largely liberal. Burke was a strong advocate of private property and totally rejected the redistributive state. Politically, Burke was a Whig, meaning that he was a member of the party which, in broad terms, supported the rights of parliament. He revered the memory of 1689 (The Bill of Rights restricting royal power, which, for example, prevented the king from levying taxes without consent of parliament), and he spoke in favour of the American colonies in their dispute with England because he thought they were being deprived of traditional English rights of self-government. A l l of these positions sound very "liberal," seeming to imply freedom, constitutionalism and the rule of law. On the other side, Burke was a strong advocate of hereditary aristocracy, though he himself was not of that class. To ensure that the nobility together with merchants of great property retained control of English government, he opposed any extension of the right to vote, which in his day was already quite narrowly restricted. His conception of equality before the law did not imply that literally the same laws would apply 84 to all. He thought that societjr was necessarily divided into hierarchical levels and that this was something for government to protect because of its usefulness to mankind. Burke's "conservatism," although he did not so label himself, was a combination of economic liberalism and social conservatism. The precise elements of the combination are intelligible only in the light of issues of his day. Since Burke, Anglo-American conservatives have held various ideas, depending on when and where they lived; but they have generally followed his example in combining market economics with respect for the past and a hierarchical view of society. The chief founders of Canada - John A . Macdonald and George Etienne Cartier along with Charles Tupper of Nova-Scotia, (c. 1876) fit this description in every respect. A l l were confirmed advocates of the market system. Macdonald ( ultimately adopted a protective tariff, which violates the theory of free trade because he could not conclude a reciprocity agreement with the United States. These men were opposed to universal suffrage and regarded the United States as an instructive example of democracy run amok. A l l were strong supporters of the British Empire and the Crown, and saw a constitutional monarchy as a valuable source of social stability (Francis and Smith, 1982). In the late twentieth century the issues are somewhat different. Conservatives in the Anglo-American world have become reconciled to democracy, though they still fear that popular majorities may be politically mobilized against the rights of property (however, there remains the issue of whose property is being protected, witness the present Meares Island issue and the Quebec farmers 85 with the Mirabelle fiasco). The major economic issue for conservatives today is protection of the market system from further state intervention or even reversal of the statist tendencies of reform liberalism and democratic socialism. The main social issue is the protection of traditional institutions and practices in an era of rapid social and technological changes. Conservatives wish to defend the family in its traditional form, which implies a number of political positions: making abortions difficult to obtain, discouraging youthful promiscuity, preventing "value-free" sexual education in the public schools and so on. In other ways, conservatives want the state to maintain the traditional standards of conduct by inflicting harsher penalties for crime, including reinstating capital punishment, and by enforcing stricter discipline in schools, in places of work, and for those who receive unemployment or welfare benefits. Conservatives are generally against legalizing the use of such drugs as marijuana or cocaine, on the grounds that they promote a life devoted to pleasure rather than the fulfillment of duty toward others. Similar reasons account for opposition to pornography in films and publications. The common denominator in all these positions is a belief that a good society cannot be a mere collection of pleasure-seeking individuals. Social existence demands that human behaviour be restrained by established institutions such as the family, church, school, and, i f all else fails, the state. Conservatives are particularly outraged by certain activities of the state which they interpret as weakening other institutions. For example, government sponsorship of homosexual rights is to them an attack upon the family, and government-mandated "busing" of children to achieve racial or economic balance is an attack upon the local school. Conservatism appears to have taken on new 86 popularity in various parts of the world including Britain and North America, a phenomenon that political commentators call the New Right. In the sphere of international relations, however, conservatives often strongly support the state's efforts to promote the national interest. They usually advocate military strength as an absolute necessity amidst a hostile world. Thus Ronald Reagan was elected America's president in 1980 on a platform that promised large increases in military spending together with a large reduction in the internal programs of the welfare state and was re-elected with similar tough-minded attitudes as a platform in the 1984 election. Margaret Thatcher has also maintained power with a similar stance in the "national economic interest" on such issues as the Falkland Islands and the coal miner's strike in England. (The Ayotollah Khomeini of Iran rules in a like manner even though his is a religious rule. Even the words of the Pope have a similar "national-interest" ring to them). This Janus-like attitude toward the state can sometimes involve conservatives in painful dilemmas, for maintaining a large military establishment necessitates taxes and other measures of compulsion that conservatives generally find distasteful. This sketch of conservatism adds new difficulties to the problem of overlapping ideological labels. It has already been noted how classical and reform liberals are not black-and-white opposites but share considerable common ground. In different respects, conservatives and classical liberals have much in common. Classical liberalism, as exemplified in Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mi l l , espoused freedom in both economic and social matters. Reform 87 liberals, while preserving a belief in freedom in social matters, wish to use the state to restrict economic behaviour. Conservatives have always been more favourable toward economic than social freedom. The terminology used thus far is chiefly found in the literature of political science. In the everyday language of politics, at least in North America, the two terms liberal and conservative suffice. Liberal means what has been referred to as reform liberal, and what some writers sometimes call "left-liberal" or "welfare-state liberal." Conservative has just been described. Classical liberalism, as a consistent ideology (until recent times), has had relatively few adherents. The term classical liberalism has little place in our contemporary vocabulary except to describe a past ideology (Amiel, 1980; Francis and Smith, 1982). For practical purposes the ideological landscape in North America used to be divided into (reform) liberal and conservative camps, corresponding generally, but only very generally, to the distinction between Liberal and Conservative or Democrat and Republican. The situation in Europe is similar in substance but different in terminology because the name liberal is hardly used except in an historical sense. What is called liberalism in North America is usually called democratic socialism in Europe. The major reformist parties include the words "Labour" or "socialist" in their titles. "Conservative" in contrast, means about the same thing as it does in North America and is often used as a rough description of the Conservative party in Britain, the Gaullists in France, and the Christian Democrats in Germany and Italy. A l l of them combine a favourable orientation 88 to the market economy with a cautious attitude toward social change and some reverence for the past. What the writer has called Anglo-American conservatism can be explained only in terms of the relative stability of North Atlantic society in the last two centuries. Cautious change and deference to the past can scarcely work in revolutionary circumstances, where change is so rapid that there is no continuity of tradition to guide present behaviour. One speculative hypothesis of the viability of Anglo-American conservatism is that England and its colonies are in fact the oldest modern society, having undergone their modernizing revolution in the seventeenth century. A parallel transition from traditional to legal authority was delayed in France until 1789, in Russia until 1917, and is only now taking place in much of the Third World. Local forms of conservatism can hardly be ver37 effective in the midst of such momentous transitions, but may arise over time as legal authority develops a tradition of its own. 89 Socialism . . . The lights were turned out, the work went on, the rain fell, and the smoke-serpents, submissive to the curse of all that tribe, trailed themselves upon the earth. In the waste-yard outside, the steam from the escape-pipe, the litter of barrels and old iron, the shining heaps of coals, the ashes everywhere, were shrouded in a veil of mist and rain. The work went on, until the noon-bell rang. More clattering upon the pavements. The looms and wheels, and the hands, all out of gear for an hour (p. 108). Charles Dickens, Hard Times, 1854. Like liberalism and conservatism, socialism is not a single ideology. It is used as a global concept to include communism, social democracy, anarchism, syndicalism and other ideologies that have family resemblance because of certain common characteristics. Four of these common traits are particularly important. They are presented here in unqualified form, although it will become obvious that the several socialist schools of thought accept them in varying degree. (1) Socialists repudiate the market economy and wish to replace it with a planned economy, believing that we can emancipate ourselves from impersonal market processes and take conscious control of our economic affairs, deliberately planning them to maximize human happiness. (2) Socialists dislike private ownership of productive property such as land, stores, or means of transportation and communication. They believe such assets should be owned by the community, supposing that the benefits will then flow to all, not just to a restricted circle of private owners. 90 (3) Socialists, aspire to a high degree of equality of condition. While recognizing that men cannot be literally equal in all respects, they believe that much can be done to reduce major inequalities of wealth, income, social position, and political power. They see the planned economy and common ownership, though not desirable solely on grounds of equality, as an important means to this end. (4) Socialists usually regard selfishness not as an innate characteristic of man, but as a result of living in flawed social institutions. They are convinced that appropriate social change can produce new generations of men who are less selfish and more concerned about the welfare of others. This overall change in human behaviour will result_ from, and at the same time support, the first three objectives. The paramount source of disagreement among socialists is the political question of obtaining and maintaining the power necessary to effect such changes in society. Almost every conceivable strategy has been canvassed: rational persuasion; teaching by the example of a working commune; winning democratic elections; general strike of organized labour; guerilla warfare among the rural population. The writer will explore these political questions in an historical sketch of the socialist family tree. To begin, common ownership of property is an ancient topic of philosophical speculation. Plato's Republic (c. 380 b.c./1955). portrayed a polls (a city-state of Greece) in which the intellectual and military classes would share property and wives, although the ordinary people would continue to have private 91 property and families (Lee, 1955). Thomas More's Utopia (1516/1975) went farther in extending common property to an entire society, but his book was a "satire" on the England of his day, not a serious proposal for implementation. It is worthy of comment to note our reverence for More as a scholar, a statesman, the creator of Utopia. (The ironic tragedy of our rememberance of this "satyrist" is that he was a burner of heretics: Condemn the non-believers; they don't see what I see. He is inviolate. He is offered the highest place. He refuses. The citizens persist until it becomes inevitable. They canonize him. Hail not Caesar but Anthony!) (1520/1983). Other philosophers have coquetted with socialism from time to time, but it was not viewed as a realistic possibility until the nineteenth century. There is also a long religious history to socialism. The Acts of the Apostles report that in the first Christian community of Jerusalem "the whole body of believers was united in heart and soul. Not a man of them claimed any of his possessions as his own, but everything was held in common" (4:32:33). Ananias and his wife Sapphira were struck dead by God for holding back on their contribution and lying to the community about it (5:1:5; 5:7:10). Community of goods has repeatedly been reintroduced by Christian sects, particularly those who believe that the Second Coming of Christ to earth is imminent. The selfishness of private property does not seem to fit well with the Kingdom of the Saints! In Canada today, this kind of Christian socalism is represented by the Hutterites, who collectively own and operate large farms in the Prairie provinces. But the focus in this work is on socialism as a secular, political ideology, not as part of religious doctrine. However, the reader may 92 find this an interesting point for speculation given the apparent influence of fundamentalist religious groups on the "conservative" New Right. Like so much else in modern politics, secular, political socialism made its debut in the French Revolution. A journalist, Francois Noel Babeuf, organized an abortive communist uprising in 1796. Its practical significance at the time was nil, since the plot was discovered by the police and Babeuf was sentenced to death; but the events, and particularly the speech Babeuf made at his trial, began the story that led to Marx, Lenin, and the socialist revolutions of our time (Scott, 1972). Babeuf (1796) desired a short, successful insurrection in Paris, using the model of several insurrections that had been attempted since 1789. Upon seizing the French state at the centre, he then would institute a. provisional government to crush the enemies of the people. Confiscation of private property would lead to a Grand National Economy. The market system of allocation would be replaced by a central storehouse where goods would be deposited, stored and distributed to all as needed. It will be composed of all in complete equality - all rich, all poor, all free, all brothers. The first law will be a ban on private property. We will deposit the fruits of our toil in the public stores. This will be the wealth of the state and the property of all. Every year the heads of the families will select stewards whose task will be the distribution of goods to each in accordance with his needs, the allotment of tasks to be performed by each, and the maintenance of public order (p. 68). Babeuf did not desire nor expect this system to create great wealth. He quoted with approval the words of Rousseau that "all luxury is superfluous - everything is superfluous above and beyond the sheerest of physical necessities" (Scott, 93 1972, p. 201). To ensure that luxury did not creep into this Spartan society, money and foreign trade would be banned. Babeufs conspiratorial and insurrectionary approach survived his death, but was complemented in the first decades of the nineteenth century with the ideas of men like Robert Owen • (1771-1858) and Charles Fourier (1772-1837) who proposed not to seize the state by force but to teach by example. Unlike Babeuf, they did not seek to impose a regime of universal poverty, but believed that their communities would allow all men to enjoy the luxuries previously reserved to the rich. The "Utopian" strategy of showing the world the merits of socialism on a small scale has not been fully successful, but neither has it been without effect. The Israeli kibbutz, for instance, is a lineal decendant of these early social experiments. The ideology of socialism was given classic formulation by K a r l Marx (1818-1883) and Frederich Engels (1820-1895). Their greatest innovation was to transform socialism into the doctrine of a single class, the industrial working class, which they renamed the proletariat. They mocked their predecessors as "Utopian" for having aimed at the betterment of all mankind through appeals to reason. For Marx and Engels, socialism could only be created by means of the political victory of the working class. The proletariat was the "universal class," which embodied the future hopes of mankind; its political struggle would furnish the "material weapons" of socialist philosophy (Marx and Engels, 1892/1968). Marx's emphasis on the working class gives an impression that the central issues are poverty, equality, and standard of living; but rediscovery of 94 certain unpublished earlier manuscripts has put the matter in a different light. " A n enforced increase in wages," wrote Marx, "would be nothing more than a generation of slaves, and would not restore, either to the worker or to the work, their human significance and worth." (Marx, 1843/1964, p.86). The true issue was what Marx called alienation. A market system, he argued, reverses the proper order of human priorities. Work, which ought to be a man's highest activity, the expression of his creative powers, becomes merely a means to keep himself alive. Instead of valuing human activity for its own sake, men are driven to become acquisitive, storing up purchasing power. They lose control over what they produce as their products are bought and sold on the market. Property owners are equally dehumanized, even if they escape the impoverished condition of the proletariat. The social alienation between owners {bourgeoisie in Marx's vocabulary) and workers was only an aspect of the larger alienation of all men from their human essence. This did not make class differentials less odious for Marx, and he depicted this with all his rhetorical power: Labour certainly produces marvels for the rich but it produces privation for the worker. It produces palaces, but hovels for the worker. It produces beauty, but deformity for the worker. It replaces labour by machinery, but it casts some of the workers back into a barbarous kind of work and turns the others into machine. It produces intelligence, but also stupidity and cretinism for the workers (1892, p. 124). Marx offered not only a moralistic critique of society but an analysis of the course of history. He wanted to show not that capitalism ought to be destroyed, but that it would destroy itself through its internal contradictions. Marx and Engels called their doctrine scientific socialism because they thought it was not just a morally attractive alternative but a guide to what was bound to 95 happen. It is evident that most of their writings do not deal with socialism at all; rather they analyze the capitalist or market system to find the mechanism of its self-destruction. The class-divided market society would, through the victory of the proletariat in the class struggle, give way to a classless society. When property would be collectively owned, there would no longer be a meaningful distinction between proletarians, who live by selling their labour, and bourgeois owners of industry, who became wealthy by employing labour. Although the subject is much too complex for such a brief exposition, the main lines of the capitalist breakdown, according to Marx (1844/1964), can be briefly indicated. One salient fact is the polarization of society. Capitalism creates a large working class who will be its own "gravediggers." According to Marxian economics, the proletariat was doomed to impoverishment, perhaps not in absolute terms, but at least in comparison to the rapidly increasing affluence of the bourgeoisie. The working class, led by socialist intellectuals such as Marx himself, would eventually seize the state and use it to abolish capitalism. Ironically, when the proletariat would come to power, it would find that the system had already virtually abolished itself. The market process would have generated industrial monoplies, as only a few giant firms would have survived the rigours of competition. Without many competitors, the market cannot work, even on its own terms. The new proletarian state would simply have to confiscate these monopolies from their bourgeois owners and set them to work under central planning. 96 Marx thought the uprising of the working class would probably come at the bottom of the business cycle, when unemployment with all its attendant distress was high among the proletariat. He had several reasons for thinking these cycles could not be avoided. He began from earlier economists' speculations about the long-term tendency of the rate of profit to fall and added to it some rather inchoate ideas about overproduction. The full train of reasoning is too technical to pursue here, but the conclusion is relevant: capitalism would destroy itself in a great crash. Marx held that the ultimate victory of socialism was certain but not automatic; it required deliberate political struggle. Marx proposed and helped to bring about the representation of the working class by organized political parties. He saw two means by which the worker's party could come to power: evolution or revolution. In constitutional states with a parliamentarj' system, the workers might struggle for the universal franchise. Once the vote was achieved for all, socialists could expect to be elected to power, for the proletariat would be the majority of society. Socialism would be the natural outgrowth of democracy. Simultaneously, Marx (1875/1959) also proposed a revolutionary seizure of power, particularly where constitutionalism and the rule of law did not exist. In this, he was influenced by the insurrectionary tradition stemming from Babeuf. Such a rising would produce a workers' government, the dictatorship of the proletariat. In a situation equivalent to civil war, the proletarian dictatorship would have to ignore the niceties of the rule of law, at least until its power was secure. This dual approach to gaining power was to prove fateful for the subsequent history of socialism. Ultimately, the two 97 approaches, united -in Marx, would split apart into separate and mutually antagonistic socialist movements (Elliott, 1981) It is curious that neither Marx nor Engels wrote much about socialism itself. What one mostly finds are theoretical passages from which we learn that man will attain true freedom by emancipating himself from natural and social constraints and taking over his own destiny, but we do not see the mundane details of a socialist state and society. Some scattered passages from Marx and Engels give a rough idea of their views about what will happen after the workers come to power. Initially, there will have to be a transitional period in which the state gains control of property and puts itself in a position to plan the whole economy. It is striking to read the list of transitional measures given in the Communist Manifesto 1848 (Beer, 1955) and to reflect that several of them have already been implemented, even by liberal or conservative governments: • Abolition of property in land and application of all rents of land to public purposes. • A heavy progressive or graduated income tax. • Abolition of all right of inheritance. • Confiscation of the property of all emigrants and rebels. • Centralization of credit in the hands of the state, by means of a national bank with State capital and an exclusive monopoly. 98 • Centralization of the means of communication and transport in the hands of the State. • Extension of factories and instruments of production owned by the State; the bringing into cultivation of wastelands, and the improvement of the soil generally in accordance with a common plan. • Equal liability to all to labour. Establishment of industrial armies, especially for agriculture. • Combination of agriculture with manfacturing industries; gradual abolition of the distinction between town and country, by a more equable distribution of the population throughout the country. • Free education for all children in public schools. Abolition of children's factory labour in its present form. Combination of education with industrial production (Marx and Engels, 1848/1955, pp.113-116). Accomplishment of these and other measures is supposed to make the state master of the economy, able to conduct central planning. However, full equality of condition will take a long time to achieve. There will have to be an interim period when equality will mean in effect "equal pay for equal work." A l l will be emploj'ed by the state, and ownership of property will no longer allow the wealthy to escape labour; but some will work more effectively and diligently than others, and they will be rewarded for doing so. 99 Beyond this juncture, Marx's prognosis becomes visionary, almost cabalistic. The state, even though it has to be large and powerful to conduct central planning, will lose its coercive character. This may make sense if we accept the premise that human quarrels are fundamentally caused by desire for private property, thus the classless society will not need a state to maintain civil peace. At any rate, it was Marx's perspective that the state was always the tool by which one class dominated others, so by definition a classless society would be a stateless society. As Engels put it in a biological metaphor, the state will "wither away." Marx preferred to use a religious or mystical metaphor to say that the state would be "transcended," that is, that men would learn to conduct their affairs without a centralized apparatus of coercion. The transcendence of the state is linked to what Marx called, in 1848, the "higher phase of communist society," where "equal work for equal pay" gives way to a nobler form of equality. In a higher phase of communist society, after the enslaving subordination of the individual to the division of labour, and therewith also the antithesis between mental and physical labour, has vanished; after labour has become not only a means of life but life's prime want; after the productive forces have also increased with the all-round development of the individual, and all the springs of cooperative wealth flow more abundantly—only then can the narrow horizon of bourgeois right be crossed in its entirety and society inscribe on its banners: "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs." (p. 119) At this advanced stage of development, the alienation of labour is finally transcended. Work becomes a freely creative activity performed for its own sake, not to be bought and sold. Men will express themselves in all directions, utilizing their repertoire of human powers; there will be no economic necessity in 100 the "kingdom of freedom" to force them to be narrow specialists. In addition to being theorists, Marx and Engels were also political activists who contributed to the political struggle of the working class. Their first organization, the Communist League, is memorable only because the Communist Manifesto (1848) was written as its program. Of more importance was the International Workingmen's Association (1864-72), commonly known as the First International, in which Marx and Engels were deeply involved. It was a loose association of socialist parties and labour unions in Western Europe," with headquarters in London. It split into hostile wings in 1872 when old factional differences became to strong to contain. The split was partly a clash of personalities between Marx and the Russian Michael Bakunin, but there was also an important ideological issue. Bakunin and his followers, who have subsequently become known as anarchists, thought that Marx was infatuated with the state. They believed the state could be destroyed fairly quickly in the aftermath of the worker's revolution, whereas Marx envisioned a period of state socialism leading up to the true classless society and' the higher phase of communism. The anarchists feared, with considerable foresight, that the Marxian socialist state might turn out to be permanent rather than temporary (Elliott, 1981). Although the First International collapsed, socialist parties continued to exist in the various European states. They were reunited, excluding the anarchists, in the Second International, founded in Paris in 1889 to celebrate the centennial of the French Revolution. Marx had died in 1883, and Engels was the elder statesman of the new organization, and Marxism was its ideology. 101 With the Second International, socialism came of age in Europe.- Socialist and labour parties thrived by following Marx's evolutionary strategy. None ever won a majority in an election, but they did succeed in electing substantial blocs of representatives in all countries where liberal and constitutional values kept politics open. In compromising or sacrificing some of their principles, some socialist politicians even served as ministers in coalition governments. The Second International kept up a pretence of revolutionary rhetoric, but its political practice was overwhelmingly evolutionary and constitutional. In the Russian Empire, however, absence of a parliament made the evolutionary strategy irrelevant. The Russian Social Democratic party was forced to be illegal, secretive, and conspiratorial. Vladimir Ilyich Lenin (1870-1924), leader of the wing of the party known as the Bolsheviks, was led by these conditions, so different from what Marx and Engels had known in Western Europe, to create a new style and a new theory of party leadership. Marx had expected the revolution to grow from the spontaneous class consciousness of the workers; the role of bourgeois intellectuals was not to create this revolutionary state of mind but to lend to it theoretical precision. Lenin, faced with a constrained country and a small working class, tended to think of revolutionary consciousness as something transmitted by bourgeois intellectuals to the workers. . This seemingly minor difference implied a new approach to the problems of party organization. The party had to be firmly controlled from the top because the workers' spontaniety could not be fully trusted. Lenin's theory of the disciplined party "democratic centralism" molded it into an effective revolutionary weapon, especially suited to survival in the autocratic Russian setting. 102 Lenin, incidentally, is associated with another major innovation in socialist ideology. Marx had always insisted that the socialist revolution would be a world revolution. With his emphasis on Europe, Marx thought the revolution would occur soon; for capitalism, which was fated to put an end to itself, was well advanced on that continent. Marx expected a proletarian victory in his own lifetime, but when World War I broke out, Marx had been dead thirty years and socialists had still not come to power anywhere. Lenin, who spent most of the war in Switzerland, used this period to write a pamphlet explaining the delay. In Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism (1915/1983), Lenin argued that the advanced nations had managed to postpone the revolution by amassing colonial empires. Overseas investments counteracted the falling tendency of the rate of profit, while colonial markets temporarily solved the problem of overproduction. Merciless exploitation of the colonies could buy off the workers at home, creating a "labour aristocracy." But the imperialist solution could only be temporary, for the world was finite and was now totally subdivided. World War I showed that the imperialists had begun to quarrel with each other. The socialist revolution would arise not from a business crash, as Marx had been inclined to believe, but out of the turmoil of war. Thus Lenin's view left his revolutionary optimism intact by decisively broadening the scope of socialism from a European to a world-wide movement. World War I tolled the death knell for the Second International. Although socialists had prided themselves on their internationalism, national loyalties prevailed in wartime. Most of the workers in the combatant states supported the war effort, effectively pitting the International against itself. The 103 coup de grace was delivered by the successful and bloody socialist revolution in Russia. In February 1917, the Tsar was overthrown and a constitutional democracy created. In October of the same year the Bolsheviks, led by Lenin, seized control of the state through insurrections of armed workers in Petrograd and Moscow. The Bolsheviks then created a dictatorship of the proletariat in which their party played the dominant role. Political opposition, even socialist opposition, was outlawed. These events were an agonizing test for the socialists of Western Europe, who had talked about revolution for generations, and now that the}' were confronted with one, they were appalled by its undemocratic aspects. The result, after some years of indecision, was an irreparable split in the world socialist movement. Those who approved of Lenin and his methods formed Communist parties in every country and gathered themselves in the Third International (Comintern). The official ideology of these parties was now Marxism as modified by Lenin or Marxism-Leninism (Ball, 1977). Those who opposed Lenin regrouped under the general name of "Social Democrats." The parties still exist as the Labour party of Great Britain, the Social Democratic party of Germany and so on. Politically, they have kept to the course of constitutionalism and are well integrated into the political system. They form governments when they win elections and resign from office when they lose. Socialism, in the form of social democracy, is a familiar part of contemporary politics. The ideology has over decades become considerably diluted in comparison to the original Marxian version so that social democrats today are 104 hard to distinguish from reform liberals. Both espouse, to a limited degree, the typical socialist goals of central planning, common ownership and equality of condition. Social democrats call for government to guide the economy through measures of spending, taxation, and regulation, but not to replace the market by comprehensive planning. They want some of the major enterprises to be publicly owned, but do not advocate wholesale nationalization of all business. They approve of redristribution of income in the direction of social justice, but not wholesale egalitarian levelling. Several small socialist parties existed in Canada before the great split between communists and social democrats, but none obtained significance. The first important party of the social democratic type was the Cooperative Commonwealth Federation (CCF), founded in Calgary in 1932. It drew together remnants of the old socialist parties, selected trade unionists, farmer activists, and certain intellectuals who had been educated in Britain and had been influenced by socialist thought in that country (Cross, 1974). The C C F achieved some political success, most notably the election of the first socialist government in North America in Saskatchewan in 1944. However, its electoral support was badly eroded in the 1950s, and in 1961 it converted itself into the New Democratic party with a much stronger tie to organized labour. Tellingly, the word "socialism" was not to be found in the "New Party Declaration" adopted by the N D P (Cross, 1974). As in other countries, social democracy in Canada had relaxed its ideology considerably since the Depression. It no longer presented itself as a full alternative to the market system but as a 105 means of using the state as a reforming agency. In certain ways, the history of socialism has become almost opposite to the expectations of Marx, who saw socialism as the successor to capitalism. He had a grudging admiration for the market system as a means of accumulating wealth, but regarded this as a temporary phase of human development. Socialism would be able to make much more humane use of the productive powers unleashed by capitalism. But, in fact, socialism has been least successful in just those countries that have been most capitalistic and, on Marx's assertions, most ready for socialism. In the industrialized countries, socialism has chiefly been effective in the attenuated form of social democracy, where it represents a reformist impulse within the system, not a polar alternative. The more resolute form' of communism came to power in the economically, backward Russian Empire, and the Soviet Union has imposed it by force on the less advanced nations of Eastern Europe. Authentic communist revolutions, not the result of Soviet initative, have also taken place in Yugoslavia, China, and Vietnam. The latter two are almost the opposite of what Marx had in mind: they are pre-industrial societies in which the capitalist system never got fairly started (Holsti, 1983). At a broad level of generalization, we can see that socialism has become not the successor to liberalism but an alternative to liberalism as a modernizing force. Socialism has had its greatest success in societies that had begun but had not yet made a complete transition from traditional to legal authority. Quite apart from the communist states, a large portion of the Third World 106 claims to be socialist: Algeria, Syria, Iraq, Tanzania, India, Nicaragua; and the list could be much longer. One source of socialism's popularity in the Third World is that being anti-capitalist, it can be used as an ideological weapon against the Western powers. Also, great disparities of wealth and health, typical of many traditional societies, seem to cry out for state-initiated redistribution. Most profoundly, there is a certain congruence between socialist collectivism and the communal institutions that still exist in much of the Third World. Common ownership and central planning have some appeal in societies that have not yet taken, and may never take, the Western path of individualism, private property and the competitive market. This has been most clearly formulated by Julius Nyrere, president of Tanzania, who is a leading theorist of Third World socialism. Nyrere (1969) translates the word socialism into Swahili as ujamaa, which means literally "familyhood." He claims that in Tanzania, where society is still largely tribal, a socialist state can grow organically out of the family and tribe. Traditional Tanzanian society had many socialist characteristics. The people did not call themselves socialists, and they were not socialists by deliberate design. But all people were workers, there was no living off the sweat of others. There was no very great difference in the amount of goods available to the different members of the society . . . traditional African society was in practice organized on a basis which was in accordance with socialist principles (p. 42). Nyrere has enjoyed great prestige in the Western world, and Western governments have contributed remarkable amounts of aid to Tanzania to help this experiment in Third World socialism succeed. In spite of this foreign .assistance, Tanzania has not achieved financial stability, and Nyrere speaks now of placing greater reliance on the market principle (Holsti, 1983). 107 Following this brief historical sketch, let us return to an analysis of the main ideas of socialism: (1) Planning: In varying degree, all socialists have been hostile to the market, condemning it as anarchic, inefficient, and inequitable. They particularly condemn the pursuit of profit; in the words of the Regina Manifesto, the principle of a socialist society "will be the supplying of human needs and not the making of profits." (Cross, 1974, p.83). This formulation unfortunately obscures the problem. Profit in the market system is not antithetical to need; it is rather the means by which needs are met. The fact that people need food, clothing, shelter, and recreation and are willing to pay for them, induces entrepreneurs to seek a profit by offering these goods for sale. The question is not need versus profit but what is the most effective means of discovering and satisfying human needs. Is it the market system with competition, floating prices and the profit motive, or is it a planning system in which a central authority decides what to produce and allocates production to consumers, or,> given our present lack of definition by both government and the private sector, is there another question we have as yet to address? Without claiming that the market is a perfect system, it can be said that it does demonstrably perform a job of matching production and consumption across a large number of commodities. Early socialists were quite naive about how difficult this task is. Babeufs central storehouses could scarcely have coped with the problem; but he probably would not have cared, since he wanted everyone to live in Spartan simplicity. Marx ignored the problem by simply 108 refusing to speculate on the concrete features of a socialist society. After much painful experience of trial and error, the Soviet Union and other socialist states have worked out a state planning machinery that is actually a hybrid of the planning principle and the market principle. The State Planning Committee, as it is called in the USSR, produces and continuously updates a national plan that specifies production quantities in the various industries. The market is used for relating the industrial complex to the inhabitants of the country, who purchase the output at retail stores owned by the state and who sell their labour to the state as employer. Through this partial use of markets, the state refrains from trying to control directly the daily affairs of hundreds of millions of people. These markets, however, are ponderously controlled by the state. The labour market is restricted by lack of mobility. A worker is not legally free to change the type or place of employment. Also, prices in markets for both labour and consumer goods do not float according to supply and demand but are administered by the state. As one might expect, this leads to the shortages and surpluses of commodities that are chronic in the Soviet Union as in all planned economies (Holsti, 1983; Pinder, 1984). When price is not used to ration scarce commodities, other forms of rationing must be employed. One is direct assignment by authority; the other is queuing. The ability to spend time waiting replaces the ability to spend money as a means of acquiring goods. Bribery and black markets are frequently resorted to by those with more money than time. State planners in Eastern Europe are aware of the difficulties of their system and would like to ameliorate them. Reform proposals that are suggested 109 and sometimes adopted almost always amount to an extension of the market principle or at least decentralization of bureaucratic authority (Talmon, 1979; Holsti, 1983). Thus practical experience suggests that the original socialist vision of the totally planned economy will not be attainable. A similar retreat from full-scale planning has taken place among social democrats in the Western world. In 1935, Social Planning for Canada, written by the leading intellectuals of the CCF, called for a National Planning Commission modelled on the Soviet example (Cross, 1974). Today, neither the N D P nor other social democratic parties advocate full scale planning. Instead, they see the state as a means for guiding the market toward particular objectives such as full employment, location of industry in depressed areas, advancement of racial and other minority groups, or energy self-sufficiency. To attain these goals, the state may employ a set of interventionist machinery: taxation, subsidy, monopoly concessions, regulatory legislation, price controls, interest rates and so on. A program of such interventions is sometimes referred to as a plan, but it is not planning in the original sense of the term or even planning as it now exists in the communist states (White, 1981). (2) Except in time of war or other emergency, central planning is unable to work without a high degree of public ownership. Presumably the central plan will require investment decisions other than those that private owners would spontaneously make; otherwise there would be no need for the plan. Implementation of the plan will require coercive threats against owners to make sure they do as instructed. If a whole new class of potential criminals is not 110 to be created, it seems reasonable for productive property to be publicly owned, thus obviating conflicts between the plan and property rights (Dickerson and Flanagan, 1982). Common ownership can be achieved in a number of ways. In the Third World, it can be built directly on to existing communal traditions. Another approach to common ownership is the voluntary cooperative, which lends itself to organizing either producers or consumers. A great many cooperatives - credit unions, wheat pools, housing co-ops - already exist in Canada, where they function as part of the market economy, but they could also be integrated into a socialist economy. Another possibility is for the workers themselves to own their factory or work place. A variant of socialism known as syndicalism (from the French syndicat, "association") takes this approach. A fully syndicalist economy has never been tried, but there are elements of syndicalism in the Yugoslavian version of socialism, where workers councils have some say in the running of enterprises (Holsti, 1983). Although these options are interesting and important, common ownership in the mainstream of socialism has meant state ownership. Socialization or nationalization of property has implied a takeover by the state, which owns and administers it as agent of the people. This ownership can be direct as in the case of the Canadian armed forces, which is operated as a government department under ministerial supervision, or indirect as in the case of A i r Canada and Canadian National Railways, which are Crown corporations owned by the state but operating more or less autonomously under a board of directors. I l l The Soviet Union represents state ownership carried out consistently. The state owns all factories, railwa3's, retail stores, publishing houses, schools, hospitals and so forth. It also owns all natural resources and all land, which it may lease to projects such as collective farms or housing cooperatives. Private ownership is almost wholly confined to consumer goods. Some other communist states have not gone quite this far. In Poland, there" is still an independent peasantry, as most farm land has never been nationalized. But the general principle of state ownership is dominant in Eastern Europe, China, North Korea, Vietnam, and Cuba (Holsti, 1983). Social democracy long ago retreated from a commitment to complete nationalization. The Regina Manifesto, while exempting farms from public ownership, called for nationalization of the entire financial industry, transportation, communications, electric power, "and all other industries and services essential to social planning" (Cross, 1969, p. 64). The logic of the list is that these industries represent "the commanding heights of the economy." A l l other businesses, whether in manufacturing, wholesaling, retailing, or personal services, need access to credit, transportation, communications, energy, and natural resources. If government owns and controls these indispensable industries it will be able to compel or induce other industries to work toward politically chosen goals. As an example, manfacturing firms can be lured to locate in depressed areas by offers of low interest loans or cheap transportation. Of course it may be the case today that these firms actually solicit preferential treatment with governments in what they perceive as politically and economically under-developed countries thus extricating themselves from union negotiations and narrowing profit 112 margins at home. (3) One of the attractive goals of socialism has been to reduce the material inequality that is part of a market economy. This inequality is unseemly to socialists, and they have sought to overcome it through a planned economy and public ownership of property. However, it is easy to call for equality of condition, but much harder to state precisely what it means. Since we differ so much in our aptitudes, needs, and desires, it would be absurd to say that we should all have the same number of items of clothing or the same square footage of housing. One approach, referred to previously, is equality of opportunity: using the state to make sure that everyone can have certain chances in life, yet allowing the individual to keep the rewards of her/his own effort. This social democratic idea, now widety accepted by reform liberals, fits well with the contemporary welfare state, which is supposed to educate us as children and protect us against contingencies as adults. Its sanctuary will allow us to recover from sickness, accident, or unemployment, but will not in itself guarantee a very desirable standard of living. We have to achieve that on our own initiative. A related approach to equality is the attempt to reduce the range of inequality by, metaphorically, raising the floor and lowering the ceiling. Extremes of wealth and poverty would vanish, but some variation would still remain. This partial egalitarianism is widely accepted today, not just by socialists but by reform liberals and many others who have no definable ideology. It can be attempted as an intervention in the market system through progressive 113 taxation, redistribution, and the abundant services of the welfare state. Or, in the Soviet style of planned economy, it can be done by setting wages and salaries on an egalitarian basis. Yet this is not as straightforward as it would appear. Progressive taxation, if pushed too far, may become a disincentive to productivity because more effort may be spent in avoiding taxes than in effective market competition. The progressive income tax seems to have reached a ceiling in most Western countries. The Soviet model has pitfalls of its own. By some statistical indices, the communist states do seem to have equalized living standards remarkably. Published data on incomes show smaller differentials between manual workers and professionals than exist in the West, and also that large pools of capital in private hands have been abolished. Statistics, however, do not always tell the whole storj' because the communist systems have significant forms of non-monetary privilege. High officials of the Communist party, as well as leading scientists, athletes, managers, and artists have access to special housing and shopping, can often avoid being on waiting lists for things such as automobiles, and receive the privilege of foreign travel (Djilas, 1983). Djilas, a Yugoslav communist, draws a provocative analysis of this inequality. Once a high official in the party and the state, he has become, ideologically, like a social democrat. He has argued that communism as practised in Eastern Europe is the opposite of a classless society. That its essence is that a "new class" of party officials and managers has created a privileged position for itself, stemming not from ownership of property but from 114 domination of the state (Djilas, 1982). The expressed ultimate in equality is still the Marxian slogan, "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs." This noble sentiment proclaims the operating principle of a happy family, but could an entire society be like one happy family? If we let them assess their own needs and contributions, it is likely that the former will be estimated on the high side and the latter on the low side. It seems fraught with difficulty to avoid the requirement of a central authority to decide such questions. And if this is true, it casts serious doubt about the withering away of the state, which is supposed to occur in the highest stage of communism. Who except those who run the state could adjudicate the disputes about abilities and needs that would arise under Marx's famous slogan? (4) The discussion in the preceding paragraph assumes that human behaviour will remain self-interested. The situation would be different if selfishness were only due to the effects of a market economy, which encourages people to put their own interests first. Socialists have often assumed that whereas conflict is typical of capitalism, co-operation would be typical of a socialist system. However, to oppose co-operation to conflict is misleading. Spontaneous order depends upon co-operation voluntarily achieved through mutual pursuit of self-interest. A planned economy calls for - co-operation directed from above. The important question is not whether we shall have co-operation, for obviously we must; it is whether mutual co-ordination or authorative direction is a more effective means of achieving co-operation. 115 Furthermore, it is debatable whether man's behaviour can be so easily altered by a change in his social surroundings. In contrast to socialism, both liberalism and conservatism claim man as he is, with all his flaws, and seek to erect a social order on that basis. They assume that society is, and always will be, composed of different groups in conflict with one another. The most they hope to do is to contain that conflict within a peaceful framework, not to abolish it altogether. To the extent that socialists in the twentieth century have retreated from some of their earlier and more visionary expectations about planning, public ownership, and equality, the}' have also become pessimistic about an easy, quick, change in human tendencies. (5) This discussion is seen as sufficient in explaining the differences between communists and social democrats in their approach to obtaining power. The distinction between constitutional and unconstitutional means also carries through to governing the socialist state. Social democrats in their rapprochement with liberalism have adopted the constitutional philosophy of the limited state and rule of law, which was originally a liberal creation. Communists use constitutionalism as a means of achieving power but have not demonstrated any abiding attachment to it; and indeed the Leninist principle of democratic centralism, when made the working theory of the state, seems incompatible with liberal constitutionalism. Communist states are more than mere absolute or unlimited governments, of which the world has seen many, because central planning and state ownership of the means of production put the entire economy at the disposal of the 116 government. This produces such an unparalleled concentration of power that a new term, "totalitarian," has had to be invented to describe the resultant system. This expansion of the state has posed thorny problems to the ideologists of Marxism-Leninism. Marx's dictatorship of the proletariat was, to be sure, an absolute, unlimited government, but it was clearly a transitional device, even if Marx did not say how long it would last. Marx, a classically educated man, adopted the term "dictatorship" from the Roman dictator, who was appointed for six months at a time to guide the state through emergencies. The dictatorship of the proletariat was supposed to preside over the dissolution of social classes and thus make itself unnecessary; a permanent dictatorship would be a contradiction in terms. Soviet thinkers now maintain that the state is "a state of the whole people." In the words of Nikita Khruschev (1961/1977) to the twenty-second Congress of the Communist party of the Soviet Union: With the victory of socialism and the country's entry into the period of full-scale communist construction, the working class of the Soviet Union has on its own initiative, consistent with the tasks of communist construction transformed the state of proletarian dictatorship into a state of the whole people. That, comrades, is a fact unparalled in history! Until now the state has always been an instrument of dictatorship by this or that class. In our country, for the first time in history, a state has taken shape which is not a dictatorship of any one class, but an instrument of society as a whole, of the entire people (p. 118). This solves one problem but creates another, for it contradicts Marx's view that all states are means by which one class rules over others. Ideology cannot conceal the fact, contrary to the expressed intentions of the early socialists, that implementation of their ideology has exalted, not abolished the state. 117 Nationalism The nation is the specific type of political community that evolved from feudal Europe and now exists in the modern world. The decline of universal institutions -. Catholic Church and Holy Roman Empire - coupled with the erosion of regional loyalties to manor, village, city or province, produced large aggregates of people sharing a common identity. The nation, having arisen in Western Europe, has now become the model of community for the rest of the world as well. Nationalism, at the level of emotion, is a feeling of loyalty to the nation, a recognition of ties with other members of the group. The pride Canadians have when a Canadian wins a medal at the Olympics or the sense of recognition that Canadians may experience when they happen to meet in a foreign land are manifestations of nationalism. Writing about the polis, Aristotle said that the community was based on friendship. Nationalism is the equivalent of friendship in communities that are so large that we can never actually know more than a tiny proportion of the other members. A common identity in the nation helps us to care about people with whom we are not personally acquainted. These experiences of identity and loyalty are fostered by a sort of national mythology, stories about the common history and destiny of the nation. The model for such national myths is the historical self-awareness of the Hebrews, who might be taken as a prototype of all nations. Their understanding of themselves as a Chosen People, endowed by God with a mission 118 to perform for the betterment of mankind, recurs in the myths by which other nations justify their existence. No nation has a single myth or story but rather a complex mythology or set of stories existing at levels from folklore up to deliberate creations of intellectuals writing history in order to further national consciousness. A fine example of the latter is the work by Monseigneur Lafleche, Bishop of Trois-Rivieres, Quelques considerations sur les rapports de la societe civile avec la religion et la famille (1866). Lafleche wrote that "Providence has alloted each and every nation its own mission to fulfill." (Cook, 1968). The French-Canadian people were a nation among the human family of nations, with their homeland in the valley of the St. Lawrence. Their special calling, according to Lafleche, was basically religious in nature: it is, namely, to convert the unfortunate infidel local population to Catholicism, and to expand the Kingdom of God by developing a predominately Catholic nationality (p. 95). Lafleche's sketch of the history of French-Canada emphasized missionary work among the Indians. When that period was largely past, the new calling was to be a devout Catholic enclave in Protestent North America, setting an example that might lead others to Rome. Catholic faith would be reinforced by adherence to the French language. The whole ideology is well suited to preserve the identity of a minority by intertwining their language, religion, and customs into a protective whole. Lafleche did not create French-Canadian nationalism; rather he articulated historical symbols to express more clearly feelings that already existed among the 119 people. His myth entered the wider mythology to which many other writers also contributed. Of course, the nrythology changes over time. Today the religious formulation of Lafleche would not well express the aspirations of French-Canadian nationalists, who are more likely to speak about the unique value of "culture." However, the underlying idea is still the same, that the nation has a special role to play in the drama of human history. The national mythology of English-Canada is much more diffuse than that of French-Canada because the community itself is less well defined. English-speaking Canada is not a single entitiy but an alliance of several communities founded in different circumstances. Massive immigration has further complicated an already complex situation. In spite of this, one continuing theme in the interpretations that Canadians give of the meaning of their collective existence is that to be Canadian is not to be American. Initially, there was no Canada and no Canadian identity, only several British colonies in North America sharing the ideological rejection of the American Revolution. Noticeably many of these colonies were largely populated by the decendants of those who had left the United States in 1776 or shortly thereafter. The union of these separate colonies was impelled less by positive feelings of friendship for one another than by fears that they would inevitably fall into the orbit of the United States if they remained separate. Not suprisingly, statements about the meaning of Canada almost always involve a comparison with the United States. In the nineteenth century and much of the twentieth, these comparisons usually interpreted Canada as a more conservative, orderly, and peaceful country than the United States. Common themes of self-congratulation included were the 120 superiority of constitutional monarchy over democracy, the British tradition of social deference, an orderly frontier protected by the North West Mounted Police, and generous treatment of Canada's native people. Today, some of the topics of comparison are different, but the mental process remains much the same. Now Canadians repeatedly stress that they are fortunate to have less crime than the U.S. , less racial hostility, a more pristine natural environment, and a lesser burden in international politics. Again, it is obvious that the structure of Canadian national mythology serves to protect the group's distinctivenes by discouraging absorbtion into a larger neighbour. The logic of the situation compels both English- and French-Canadian national mythologies to be defensive in nature. The character of American nationalism differs from both Canadian nationalisms. The American national identity rests upon the political ideas that animated the Revolution of 1776. Americans have ever since that time interpreted themselves as participants in a social experiment of vast importance to all mankind. They are continually probing and testing the confines of their, and other's, liberty. As Thomas Jefferson (1802/1965) wrote in 1802: It is impossible not to be sensible that we are acting for all mankind; that circumstances denied to others, but indulged to us, have imposed on us the duty of proving what is the degree of freedom and self-government in which a society may venture to leave its individual members (pp. 120-121). American national mythology plays endlessly on the theme of freedom and interprets everything else in relation to it. Democracy, which was first introduced in the United States, is not just majority rule, and capitalism is not just the organized pursuit of wealth; both are the means by which a free people 121 conducts its affairs. The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and Bill of Rights are not just political documents; they have become the sacred texts for the inspiration of all humanity. But as has been stated they are not unproblematic. This characteristic of American national mythology may possibly help to explain why American ventures in international politics so often tend to become crusades. Freedom itself is at stake in contests with other nations. Woodrow Wilson brought the United States into World War I "to make the world safe for democracy." Franklin Roosevelt interpreted American participation in World War II in a similar way. The rivalry with the Soviet Union is not just an exercise in power politics; it is the defence of the "free world." These slogans are wholly serious to Americans, even when they amuse, bewilder or confound other nationalities. The point is not that one nation's myths are false while another's are true: it is that each nation worthy of the name has a mythology that supports its national identity by giving meaning to its collective history. Without such a source of meaning, the nation, which is ultimately a psychological reality, could not exist. Space has permitted only a brief sketch of a few examples, but similar myths will be found for all nations. This means that nationalism is not a single ideology. The details of each nationalism will be unique because each nation is unique. However, there are common factors in the structure of belief, as the national mythologies serve similar purposes for the various nations. There are also two common 122 nationalistic beliefs that can be expressed as propositions: (1) Loyalty to the nation should transcend other loyalties, such as allegiance to one's family, region, or ethnic group. The nation is taken to be the primary social group that outranks all others. This presupposition is so deeply entrenched today that we often do not recognize its significance. Why, for example, are economic statistics kept on a national basis? In fact, economic relationships do not necessarily coincide • with national sentiments. To say that the unemployment rate in Canada is a specific figure, say 10%, obscures the fact that in some parts of the country it may be 3% and in others 33% and yet again be widely different in certain age groups or gender groups. What the national figures mean is rather unclear, yet they are religiously computed. Similarly, an athlete can only compete in the Olympic games as a member of a national team; they cannot represent themselves, a town or a sponsoring club. Yet sport has intrinsically as little to do with the nation as do economic relationships. (2) The nation and the state should coincide in the nation-state. This is not a universal belief of nationalism. The traditional posture of French-Canadian nationalism, for example, was defence of the French-Canadian nation within the Canadian bi-national state, which in practice often meant heavy emphasis on provincial autonom3r. However, the demand for the nation-state tends to recur. Thus French-Canadian nationalism has become separatist since the early 1960s. Interestingly, Premier Levesque has defended separatism by saying that it was "natural" for a nation to aspire to state-hood. The word "natural" reflects the 123 predominance of the nation-state in contemporary thinking. Opinion about the inevitabty of the nation-state is divided. Since authority depends upon legitimacy and freedom upon authority, John Stuart Mi l l argued that a free society is in the long run only possible in a nation-state. In 1861 he wrote: "Free institutions are next to impossible in a country made up of different nationalities. Among a people without fellow-feeling, especially if they read and speak different languages, the united public opinion, necessary to the working representative government, cannot exist" (Mill, 1962, p. 106). Mil l feared that one nation would always end by coercively oppressing others in a multinational state. National antagonism would require such a strong government that individual freedom would be impossible. The contrary opinion was maintained by Mill 's younger contemporary Lord Acton, who wrote that "those states are substantially the most perfect, which, like the British and Austrian Empires, include various distinct nationalities without oppressing them" (Himmelfarb, 1949, p. 72). The existence of different nationalities is a positive blessing because it provides a bulwark against too much state domination of society. Smaller nations within the state, fearful that the government will -be controlled by the larger nations, will be reluctant to assign too many functions to the central authorities. Such things as education and social insurance programs will tend to remain with local governments or perhaps in private hands. Acton's beliefs had great influence on the political thought of Pierre Trudeau and formed the philosophical basis of his linguistic and constitutional policies, which have the intention of making Canada a pluralistic state in which neither French nor English feel oppressed by each other. Trudeau's vision of Canada as a 124 culturally pluralistic state was expressed in his oft quoted essay "The New Treason of the Intellectuals": Without backsliding to the ridiculous and reactionary idea of national sovereignty, how can we protect our French-Canadian national qualities? ... we must separate once and for all the concepts of state and nation, and make of Canada a truly pluralistic and polyethnic society. Now in order for this to come about, the different regions within the country must be assured of a wide range of local autonomy, such that each national group, with an increasing background of experience in self-government, may be able to develop the body of laws and institutions essential to the fullest expression and development of their national characteristics (1968, p. 96). These two general concerns of nationalism, loyalty to the nation and the quest for the nation-state, manifest themselves in a bewildering complexity of phenomena. The writer will draw attention to a few of the typical situations in which we speak of nationalism. (1) A tribal, ethnic or racial, minority seeks to establish its credentials as a nation in order to assert itself as a group. Thus the Dene Nation, and the Indians of Canada in general, are now calling themselves "The First Nations." In both these instances, nationalism is joined to a demand for self-government within Canada, not the establishment of a soverign nation-state. (2) A national minority seeks to separate from the state that now rules it in order to establish a nation-state, as illustrated by separatist movements in Quebec or among Welsh and Scots in Great Britain or the island colonies of France in the Pacific Ocean. Sometimes the minority would have to separate from two or more states, such as the Basques who are now ruled by France and Spain, or the Kurds who are divided among Turkey, Iraq, Iran, and the 125 Soviet Union. (3) A national majority that controls the government uses its political power to supress, assimilate, or expel minorities that do not fit the image of the nation-state. In the early 1970s, the African states of Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania drove many from among their substantial East Indian minorities to emigrate. They were vilified as alien exploiters who had received from the British colonialists an unfair position of economic advantage. (4) A nation-state lays claim to fragments of territory on its borders on the grounds that they constitute an historical part of the nation. China and Taiwan are examples of this type of claim. The technical name for this sort of claim is irredentism (McWhinney, 1981). (5) A large and powerful nation creates an empire by imposing itself on its neighbours. German nationalism between the two world wars began with irredentist claims to territory that had once been part of the German Empire but had been taken away at the Treaty of Versailles, such as the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia, and then to demands of Lebensraum by subjection of the peoples of Eastern Europe such as Jews, Gypsies, Slavs, and Magyars. Thus nationalism can transcend the nation-state to build a multinational empire under the rule of the dominant nation (Kohn, 1965). (6) The nation-state tries to insulate itself from external influences that are perceived as threatening in some way. This could entail the blockade of ideas, as in the censorship of foreign publications. It could also mean the 126 erecting of barriers against the movement of goods, such as import quotas or protective barriers. A particularly important form of nationalism involves the attempts of national governments to exert control over multinational corporations operating within their boundaries. The National Energy Policy announced by the government of Canada in the fall of 1980 is a case in point. Canadian-owned companies were to be given preference over foreign-owned companies. These were strong measures by Canadian standards, although they did not approach steps often taken elsewhere, such as confiscation or nationalization of corporate assets without compensation. The rule of law in a fundamentally liberal country such as Canada puts very real obstacles in the path of economic nationalism (Holsti, 1983). This last point brings up the relationship of nationalism to other ideologies. History shows that one can be a nationalist while simultaneously being liberal, conservative or socialist. The reason is that nationalism has a different fundamental concern than these other three ideologies. These latter three are all ranged about the question of what the role of' government in society is, whereas nationalism addresses itself to the question of what the proper limits of the political community are. One can imagine three French nationalists agreeing that France ought to be a soverign nation-state une et indivisible, but otherwise adhering to conservative, liberal or socialist views about the functions of government. The relationship between nationalism and other ideologies is not merely a matter of random chance but is structured according to the course of historical development in the last two centuries. 127 Initially, nationalism and liberalism seemed to be natural allies. Great Britian, the first modern nation to emerge, was also the home of liberal constitutionalism. The United States, the first "new nation," was constituted in 1776 in a reaffirmation of the principles of the Glorious Revolution. In France the concept of the nation was discovered and proclaimed in 1789 as part of the liberal freedoms enunciated in the "declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen." The political situation in the first half of the nineteenth century strengthened the assumption that nationalism and liberalism were two sides of the same coin. Nationalism meant chiefly the liberation of small European nations from rule by large empires: The Irish from the British Empire, the Czechs from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Greeks from the Ottoman Empire, the Poles and Finns from the Russian Empire. With the notable exception of Britain, these empires were based on traditional authority, not on legal constitutionalism. Those who struggled for national emancipation had to struggle at the same time for liberal goals such as elected parliaments, freedom of the press and religious toleration. It was assumed that peoples of the earth, once liberated from alien rule, would compose a family of nations living peacefully and freely side by side. The alliance between liberalism and nationalism reached its peak in 1848, when there was a wave of attempted revolutions across Europe, all having the same goal of creating liberally governed nation-states. But the empires were able to reassert themselves, not least by playing off the different nationalities against each other, and the liberal nationalist dream did not become reality (Kohn, 1965). 128 Liberal nationalism continued to exist after 1848, but it was increasing^ displaced by a more militaristic, state-oriented nationalism. The national unification of Germany and Italy, long a goal of liberal nationalism, was achieved in 1870, less by liberal methods of voluntary agreement than by military conquest. The new nation-states of Germany and Italy almost immediately began acquiring colonial empires, especialty in Africa, where Britain and France, which had long possessed overseas empires, also joined in. Even the United States, which had always been critical of European imperialism, acquired overseas colonies - Peurto Rico, Cuba, the Phillipines - in a war with Spain. By the end of the nineteenth century, nationalism had come to imply much less the liberation of small nations than the aggrandizement of powerful nations. Numerous writers extolled the virtues of military service and loyalty to the state (Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori). This was also the period when racial theories became allied with nationalism. Writers of the various large nations justified the policies of imperial expansion by claiming biological superiority for Anglo-Saxons, French or Germans. The coloured races had to be ruled for their own good as well as that of mankind in general (Davis, 1983). Anti-semitism also became a political factor in this period. Jews, who lived dispersed in many European states, were attacked as alien elements in the national community. The German 129 composer Richard Wagner (1850/1965) wrote: The Jew speaks the language of the nation in whose midst he dwells from generation to generation, but he always speaks it as an alien. . . . Our whole European art and civilization, however, have remained to the Jew as a foreign tongue; for, just as he has taken no part in the evolution of the one, so he has taken none in that of the other; but at most the homeless wight has been a cold, nay more, a hostile on-looker (p. 165). One of the most important expressions of this mood of anti-semitism was The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a fraudulent document first published in 1903 and afterwards often reprinted (Cohn, 1969; Roiphe, 1982). It purported to prove that there was a secret Jewish conspiracy to degrade and enslave the entire world. Jewish achievements in science, international finance and in the socialist movement were interpreted not as isolated events, but as part of a calculated ploy to gain ascendancy over the Gentiles. The Protocols were to have a fateful influence upon Adolf Hitler later in the twentieth century. As a significant illustration of how deep-seated nationalist thinking has become, European Jews reacted to this wave of anti-Semitism by developing their own form of nationalism. Zionism taught that the Jews would never achieve respect until they became a nation-state. The Jewish population must be gathered onto a single territory under control of a soverign Jewish state. The state of Israel is the result of Zionism (Holsti, 1983). The aggressive nationalism of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries culminated in World War I, with Britain, France, Russia and Italy arrayed against Germany, Austria-Hungary and Turkey. A t first, the outcome of this gruesome, bloody war seemed a revival of liberal nationalism. The Treaty 130 of Versailles dismembered the empires that had ruled Central and Eastern Europe and replaced them by nation-states equipped with liberal constitutions. Poles, Czechs, Hungarians, Lithuanians, Finns and so on, emerged with their own states for the first time in history. But nationalism and liberalism soon parted company. Each of these new "nation-states" had important national minorities such as the Germans in Czechoslovakia or Hungarians in Romania. Nationalistic conflict and irredentism raised the temperature of politics to the point where individual freedom seemed of small moment in comparison to the status of the national group. In the 1920s and 1930s, constitutional government was overthrown in almost all these new states of Europe from Italy and Germany eastward (Ball, 1977). Nationalism took an even more aggressive appearance as the new ideology of fascism. It is difficult to describe fascism briefly for it was intimately bound to conditions in Central Europe in the years entre deux guerres. A communist takeover, as had ocurred in the Russian Empire in 1917, seemed a very real possibility in many of these countries. Liberal constitutionalism appeared unable to combat this - threat or to deal with post-war inflation and unemployment. The alternative of fascism was created by Benito Mussolini (1883/1945) who had been an ardent socialist but who rallied to the support of Italy in the Great War. After the war, Mussolini began a political movement with a unique mixture of ideological themes. Rejection of liberal individualism and constitutional government was paramount. There would no longer be a private sphere of life exempt from government intrusion. The state was exalted as the highest expression of the nation, and war was extolled for bringing "all human energies to their highest 131 tension and setting a seal of nobility on the peoples who have the virtue to face it" (Dickerson and Flanagan, 1982, p. 123). The symbol of the movement, which also lent it its name, was the fasces, a bundle of sticks that had been a Roman symbol of authority. The sticks represented the power of coercion -beating - while the fact that they were bound together symbolized the unity of the nation. Looking far back into Roman and medieval history, Mussolini primed a myth about the destiny of the Italian nation. For the third time, Italy would emerge as the leader of mankind. After the Rome of the Caesars and the Rome of the Popes would come the "Third Rome," the "Rome of the People." To these nationalist motifs Mussolini added elements of socialism. The state, while not nationalizing property, would guide the economy for collective purposes. From Lenin, Mussolini learned that an elite, disciplined party could seize power in a constitutional state and maintain its hold thereafter by ruthlessly supressing opposition. Conspicuously absent were the egalitarian ideals of socialism, except inasmuch as all were equally exhorted to follow the charismatic leadership of II Duce. Hitler's doctrine of "national socialism" was similar to Mussolini's facism except that he substituted German for Italian nationalism. Hitler's goal was the "Third Reich," a new German Empire to suceed the medieval Holy Roman Empire and the Reich created in 1870 by Bismark. Hitler introduced a heavy measure of anti-Semitism, which had not been part of Mussolini's doctrine. Similar ideologies sprang up elsewhere in Europe. Their adherents came to power in Spain, with the help of Italian and German intervention, and became influential in Central European countries such as Hungary and Romania (Holsti, 1983). 132 Fascism is also extremely difficult to categorize. The fact that it is certainty not liberal has led some to regard it as a form of conservatism. Indeed, it did play on conservative sentiments by promising to prevent the triumph of communism. However, its futuristic symbols such as the Third Rome or Third Reich express an attitude quite foreign to the conservative reverence for continuity with the past. Fascism was in fact a promise of radical reform, a conscious break with the past to produce what Mussolini called "Fascist Man." On balance, fascism is probably best understood as an extreme form of nationalism, incorporating certain elements of socialism to strengthen the state and playing on conservative fears of communism. Although some writers seek to apply the label of fascist to contemporary military and anti-communist regimes such as South Korea, Brazil or Argentina, others think that European fascism was so much a unique product of historical circumstances that it is better to restrict the terms to Hitler, Mussolini and others of their time; to regard it as a specific phase of nationalism rather than an enduring ideology as in those presented here. The aftermath of World War II has brought an historical period in which nationalism is truly a world-wide force. The British, French, Italian, Portuguese, American, Dutch and Japanese colonial holdings have attained independence, leaving the Russian Empire, surviving as the Soviet Union and its sphere of influence, as the last of the great empires. The world is now a society of nation-states, even if many of the new nations are still rather tentative aggregations of tribal, ethnic and regional groups. The most important new manifestation of nationalism in the post-war period was the struggle of these 133 new nations for independence. In several instances, such as Vietnam, Algeria, Angola, Mozambique and the Congo, the colonial power was reluctant to surrender its sovereigntj' and did so only after a prolonged war of "national liberation." In the Third World, the mentality and symbolism of national liberation is still strong. Political sovereignty has been achieved, but most of the new nations are economically precarious. They commonly blame their low standard of living not only on the colonial past but also on what they perceive as continuing domination by the capitalist nations of the Western world, especially the United States. Not suprisingly, since they believe their problems to be caused by the market system, many of the new nations have turned to socialism. However, with some exceptions, thej' are not turning to orthodox communism. Many leaders in the Third World reject both the capitalist and communist models as blueprints for rapid social, economic, and political change. Their criticism is that capitalist and communist solutions were devised for situations and experiences unlike those in developing nations today. The authoritarianism found in the communist case stifles initative and innovation so intensely required to stimulate development, while the lack of government intervention in the capitalist case enables the rich in developing nations to maintain a stratified society with little or 134 no social and economic mobility. Developing nations, they argue, must seek their own solutions to their problems of development. Celso Furtado (1962/1977), an exiled Brazilian economist, is critical of communist methods: Historical experience has demonstrated that whenever a revolution of the Marxist-Leninist type has been imposed on a complex social structure -as in the case of certain European countries - socialism as a form of humanism becomes perverted. As there is no possibility of converting an open society into a dictatorship without creating a climate of frustration, there is a deterioration of social values. Since the dictatorial regime does not permit the individual to play his proper part in society, a series of social myths is put forward in order to replace genuine human values. Thus, material development can take place at the same time that the dictatorship is consolidating itself upon principles which are the antithesis of humanistic revolutionary ideals (p. 415). And Eduardo Frei (1958/1977), a former president of Chile (1964-1970), discloses a flaw in the capitalist system: There is something that we- should understand. Capitalism as a system dehumanizes the economy, although, in its first stage, it meant an enormous expansion of economic development and the creation of wealth. Yet there is no doubt that it tended to concentrate economic power in a few hands, to allow the great monopolistic powers to control the market so that, by a fierce dialectical process within its own structure, it led to the disappearance of economic freedom. In the productive process, it separated labour from management and, more than that, from the concept of property and the exercise of that right (p. 384). Both men seek indigenous solutions to their problems of development in some form of non-communist socialism. Concrete manifestations of this socialist nationalism are: nationalization of the subsidiaries of multinational firms or heavy regulation of their business activities; attempts to create production cartels of essential commodities sold on world markets; demands for higher levels of foreign aid with no strings attached, and; proposals for an international income tax by which the Third World could claim as a matter of right a share of the 135 wealth of the more advanced nations. This alliance between nationalism and socialism may prove very long-lasting because the two ideologies have one important affinity. Both see the state as a central institution. For socialists it is the planner of society and for nationalists it is the expression of national identit}', whereas for liberals and conservatives it is of limited instruments with special purposes. Socialist and nationalist uses of the state are not incompatible and indeed, can actually reinforce each other. Nationalization of a multinational corporation may be explained as an assertion of sovereignty as well as a measure to benefit the working class. A sign that the link between socialism and nationalism may prove durable is that it is not confined to the impoverished nations of the Third World. In many wealthy nations, the socialist left is also the most nationalistic part of the political spectrum. In Canada, the New Democratic party prides itself on nationalism, while the Parti Quebecois is a social democratic as well as a nationalistic party. In Britain the left wing of the labour party was, and still is, opposed to joining the Common Market, on grounds that membership in this free trade association hinders the ability of the British government to introduce measures of socialist reform at home. This rapprochement between nationalism and socialism is mildly ironic, for the early socialists had little use for the nation-state. Marx sympathized with the national aspirations of the Irish and the Poles not for their own sake, but because national liberation would weaken the political system that helped maintain capitalism. Ultimately Marx foresaw the disappearance of all states, including 136 nation-states. The socialist parties of the Second International were also anti-nationalistic in their outlook. They saw the aggressive nationalism of their day as a distraction from the true issue of the class struggle. But the world-wide proliferation of nation-states in this century is a political fact to which ideologies must adjust if they are to survive. Socialists have managed to make the transition by focussing on the state in preference to those parts of the original doctrine that anticipated the passing away of the state as a form of political existence. Left, Right and Centre Are ideologies related to each other in a systematic way such that we could array them along a single dimension? One such classification in common usage depends upon the distinction between left and right. Many observers who are accustomed to the use of these terms agree on the following construction of the political spectrum represented in Figure 1. Left Centre Right Social Reform Classical Communism Democracy Liberalism Liberalism Conservatism Fascism Figure 1. A conventional political spectrum. Although this spectrum corresponds to common perception, it is not always easy to state precisely what it means. Is the left for, and the right against, 137 change? That simplistic an explanation will hardly do, for everything depends upon who is in power. In a communist state, classical liberalism is an ideology of radical change. In the Western constitutional democracies, both communism and fascism represent radical change. Freedom is not much help either. A l l the ideologies, even fascism, claim to be for freedom, but each defines it in a different way. Nor does invocation of democracy solve the problem, for the democratic centralism of Marxism-Leninism is in reality just as antithetical to popular government as fascism is. Some light is shed on the subject by considering the circumstances under which the words "left" and "right" first began to be used as political labels. The custom arose shortly after 1789 in the French National Assembly. Those factions that favoured retaining substantial powers for the king, such as the appointment of judges or the veto of legislation, sat on the right of the speaker of the Assembly. Those who wanted the king reduced to a purely symbolic figure and to have all political power exercised by elected representatives of the people sat to the left of the speaker. The basic issue was popular sovereignty. The extreme left held that all political power emenated from the people, the extreme right believed that political power was conferred by God on the king through the instrument (contrivance) of heredity, and the centre sought a compromise or balance of these two principles (see Figure 1) (Deutsch, 1980). This political difference between left and right was soon overlaid by an economic dimension as socialism assumed a prominent role in European politics. The term left was applied to those who favoured equalization of property through 138 political action. More profoundly, socialists proposed to replace the impersonal market process, which is not under the control of any identifiable person or persons, by a system of planning that would be under political control. Socialism thus can be seen as an extension of popular sovereignty from the political to the economic sphere. The ambiguities of the left-right terminology arise from this double origin. Advocates of popular sovereignty will not inevitably favour socialist planning; they may be sincerely convinced that the market principle will in the long run be of more benefit to ordinary working people. It is also not inevitable that advocates of socialist planning will support popular sovereignty with equal warmth, for the desires of the real, existing people (as opposed to the hypothetical, reformed people) may obstruct the plan. Thus the political and the economic left often coincide, but need not necessarily do so. In contemporary use, the economic factor seems to predominate (see Figure 2), though the political is still in the background. Returning to our common sense listing of ideologies on the left-right spectrum, we may now view an approximate interpretation in terms of the meanings of equality that have been addressed. Here is the redrawn spectrum, adding concepts to represent 139 the various forms of equality and inequality, which the ideologies claim as their own: Left equality of condition equality of opportunity Centre equality of right Right aristocracy hierarchy Social Communism Democracy Reform Classical Liberalism Conservatism Liberalism Fascism Figure 2. The economic dimension of the political spectrum. This picture could be seriously misleading without appropriate qualifications. Communists advocate long-run equality of condition in the sense of the equality of happiness that would be produced by implementing the motto "from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs." In the short-run, they claim to equalize conditions somewhat but not absolutely. Social democrats and reform liberals are not exclusively wedded to equality of opportunity. Their use of the progressive income tax as a levelling measure is also an approach to equality of condition. The classical liberal commitment to equality of right is not too problematic in this context, but the conservative position easily causes confusion. Early conservatives such as Burke saw an hereditary aristocracy as a socially useful institution. Twentieth-century conservatives no longer defend the hereditary principle but may argue that the wealthy will perform some of the same useful functions as an hereditary aristocracy - philanthropy, public service and so on. Obviously, this position shades into classical liberalism; the difference 140 is only a matter of whether one emphasizes the equality of universal rules or the unequal results arising from them. Finally, fascists tended to think of hierarchy not as social transmission through legal inheritance, but as biological transmission of racial qualities. Aryan Germans for Hitler were a "master race"; Jews and deviants were "sub-human." This is the most absolute type of inequality that can be imagined because there is no conceivable way to alter it. Fascists also completely rejected the constitutional principle of rule of law, which is another formulation of equality of right. This underlying dimension of egalitarianism is not an absolute scale of measurement that allows us to assign a precise value to an ideology from any time or place. "Leftness" is not a measurable attitude such as height or weight. However, it does make a limited amount of sense to say of two ideologies at a certain place and time that one is to the left or right of the other. The same applies to the adherents of ideologies. Thus it is reasonable to say that in recent Canadian politics, the NDP, as a party of social democracy, is usually to the left of the Liberal and Progressive Conservative parties. The difference should not be exaggerated, however. Prime Minister Louis St. Laurent said of the CCF, the predecessors of the NDP, that they were only "Liberals in a hurry." There is a long list of quasi-socialist measures, such as national health insurance or a publicly owned oil company, that were proposed by the C C F / N D P and later legislated by the Liberal party. The writer has not attempted to place nationalism on the left-right spectrum, except for fascism. As explained previously, nationalism has at 141 different times been allied with liberalism, conservatism or socialism. Commitment to the nation-state does not automatically dictate a position on issues of equality. It is indicative that in time of war normal political differences are suspended. Parties of the left and right often come together in a coalition "government of national unity" to undertake (prosecute) the war effort. This shows that support for the nation is on a different level than normal political issues. When the threat to the nation is past, the distinction between left and right reasserts itself, and governments of national unity soon fall apart, as happened in France and Italy after World War II. It is important to emphasize that the left-right spectrum is unidimensional, while ideologies are multidimensional. That is, they are concerned not only with inequality and equality but with many other political values. It would be possible to map ideologies, as an example, on a continuum according to their views on the scope of state control of society: State Control Maximum Minimum Communism Fascism Totalitarianism Social Democracy Reform Liberalism Classical Liberalism Conservatism Anarchy Figure 3. Expressions of political state control. Communists and fascists favour the total identification of state and society. o Social democrats and reform liberals espouse a theory of active government regulation and intervention, but the}' do not wish to subject all of society to 142 control by the state. Conservatives and classical liberals desire a very limited state to carry out certain restricted functions, enabling society to evolve according to its own laws. Anarchists believe that societ}' can exist without any government at all (Deutsch, 1980). This classification is as valid as the conventional left-right spectrum (see Figure 1), but expresses another aspect of the reality of ideologies, and thus does not coincide with the left-right spectrum. To speak of left and right is a useful shorthand way of referring to ideologies as long as its limitations are kept in mind. Left and right are only convenient labels; they are not a substitute for a knowlegable understanding of a point of view. Having thus briefly sketched the political philosophies and ideologies pertinent to this work for the reader, the writer will now present a framework for the analysis of the rhetoric of the present political rhetors of British Columbia. 143 CHAPTER IV A N A L Y T I C A L F R A M E W O R K Rhetorical Criticism In defining rhetoric, and identifying a rhetorical framework for purposes of analysis, the writer will use an Aristotlean classical base enlarged upon with the definitions and ideas of Kenneth Burke (1966). Burke is identified with the "new rhetoric." The "new rhetoric" of Burke attempts to apply modern refinements from psychology, semantics, motivational research, and other behavioural sciences to rhetoric. Burke has reverence for the classical rhetoricians, but he also sees possibilities for extending the scope of rhetoric. Though Aristotle can not offer a complete place of refuge because he cares little for the psychological aspects or moral forces in society he unquestionably qualifies as the furnisher of the starting point, the platform upon which rhetorical criticism has been built, if not the conclusions of critical endeavour. It is probable that his intentions were to expect his students to go beyond him and to correct him, thus the writer will begin with explanations of his classical concepts and then move to examination of the "new rhetoric" of Kenneth Burke. Rhetoric, in classical terms, is the counterpart of dialectic. It is a subject that can be treated systematically. The argumentative modes of persuasion are the essence of the art of rhetoric: appeals to the emotions warp the judgement. (There is a tendency on the part of writers of current works on rhetoric, and on research, to give too much attention to the forensic branch, in which 144 chicanery is easier, and too little to the political, where issues are larger (Mitchell, 1983)). Argumentative persuasion is a kind of demonstration; and the rhetorical form of demonstration is the enthymeme. The possible abuse of rhetoric is not considered an argument against its proper use on the side of truth and justice:the search for "good," and the honest rhetoricians have no separate name to distinguish them from the dishonest rhetoricians (Aristotle in Solmsen, 1954; Book I 1355b). Classical Rhetoric Classical rhetoric is "the faculty of observing in any given case the available means of persuasion." (Aristotle, 1954). Of the modes of persuasion, some belong strictly to the art of persuasion, and some do not. The rhetorician finds the latter kind, witnesses, contracts, medicine and so on, ready to her or his hand. The former kind she or he must provide themselves and this has three divisions: Ethos, pathos and logos. 1) Ethos (character): The speaker's power of evincing a personal character which will make his message credible; the three things which inspire confidence in the orator's own character; those things that induce us to believe a thing, apart from any proof of it: "good sense, good moral character, and goodwill" (Aristotle, 1954). Persuasion is achieved by the speaker's own character when the speech is spoken in a way to make us think the person is credible. We believe persons we deem good more fully and more readily than we do others. However, this kind of persuasion, like any other, should be 145 achieved by what the speaker says, not by what persons think of their character before they begin to speak. It is not true, as is sometimes naively assumed by writers in their treatises on rhetoric, that the personal goodness revealed by the speaker contributes nothing to his power of persuasion. To the contrary, her or his character may almost be called the most effective means of persuasion. 2) Pathos (emotion): The orator's power of stirring the emotions of their hearers. It is the persuasive mode that depends on "putting the audience into a certain frame of mind" (Aristotle, 1954). The emotions are all those feelings that so change persons as to affect their judgments and are also attended by pain or pleasure. Thus persuasion may come through the hearers when the speech stirs their emotions and there can be a collective acceptance of the speaker's message that permeates the audience. 3) Logos (proof): The speaker's power of proving truth, or an apparent truth, by means of persuasive argument; logic. This may be provided by the words of the speech itself or the persuasion is effected through the speech when the speaker proves a truth or an apparent truth by means of persuasive' arguments designed for the case in question. Hence rhetoric may be regarded as an offshoot of dialectic, and also of ethical or political studies (Aristotle, 1954). The persuasive arguments are: (a) the example, corresponding to induction in dialectic; (b) the enthymeme, corresponding to the syllogism; (c) the apparent enthymeme, corresponding to the apparent syllogism. The enthymeme is a rhetorical syllogism, and the example a rhetorical induction. (A present day 146 example might be: "times are tough and when times are tough we tighten our belts and work together," from this can flow the message of collective economic restraint. Having identified a truth held in common, and an apparent truth, then the conclusion is logical and therefore acceptable in part if not in the whole). Rhetoric has regard to classes of persons, not to the individual person; its subjects and the premise from which it argues are, in the main, to present alternative possibilities in the sphere of human action, and it must be adapted to an audience of untrained thinkers who cannot follow a long train of reasoning. Though this latter remark is very disparaging it is considered to be as true today as it was in ancient Greece. The premises from which enthymemes are formed are "probabilities" and "signs"; and are either fallible or infallible. The lines of argument, or topics, which enthymemes follow may be distinguished as common (or general) and special (i.e. special to a single study, such as natural science or ethics). Classically there are three kinds of rhetoric: (1) political (deliberative), (2) forensic (legal), and (3) epideictic (the ceremonial oratory of display). The subject matter of rhetoric may be divided into two areas: internal and external. Generally the external subject matter of rhetoric consists of such things as knowledge of political systems, national defence, and the economy. Political oratory falls under five main headings: (1) ways and means, (2) war and peace, (3) national defence, (4) imports and exports, and (5) legislation (Aristotle, 1954). 147 The internal subject matter of rhetoric consists of knowledge of the virtues of men so as to be able to persuade through or by these virtues. In urging the hearers to take or to avoid a course of action, the political orator must show that they have an eye to the happiness and well-being of the listeners. Thus the political speaker will appeal to the interests of the hearers, and this involves a knowledge of what is "good." Hence there is a comparison of "good" things. Of two good things which is the better? This entails a consideration of degree - the lore of "less or more." Internal subject matter also consists of the analysis, and consequent application in argument, of the emotions of man: shame, pity, envy, and so on. Arguments and their refutations form a part of the subject matter of rhetoric. Political speakers will find their powers of persuasion enhanced by a knowledge of the forms of government and their underpinnings. The epideictic speaker is concerned with vice and virtue, praising the one and censuring the other. The forensic speaker will have studied wrongdoing - its motives, its perpetrators, its victims, and definitions of wrongdoing. Aristotle, and many rhetoricians since, distinguish two kinds of "truth" but value them equally: • the true and the approximately true • a truth or an apparent truth. (Aristotle in Solmsen, 1954; Book I 1357a). 148 They also believe men can arrive at the truth without extensive philosophical training - that it is something "natural" within people: • men have a sufficient natural instinct for what is true (Book HI 1418b). • things that are true... and better are, by their very nature, practically always easier to prove and to believe in. (Book III 1419a.) Thus, for rhetoricians with their belief in man's natural inclination towards truth, the rhetorician's work or art is made that much easier (this is of course prior to psychoanalytic times). Truth is what can be proven true by means of the enthymeme, or rhetorical syllogism, and the example or rhetorical induction. The enthymeme uses premises accepted by the audience as true and reaches true conclusions. Thus truth is what we can all accept as true. In effect, the enthymeme works toward establishing truth by uniting ethos, pathos, and logos. For Aristotle the parts of speech and their function were very important and the format he devised for the. expedient presentation of information continues to this day in both spoken and written discourse. Its structure is: • The introduction which is the beginning of the speech; it prepares the way for what is to follow. Its main function is to identify the aim of the speech. • The statement is the second part of the speech, a "survey of the actions that form the subject-matter of the speech", often referred to as the narrative. 149 • Proof is the third part of the speech, the part which Aristotle says is actually "provided by the orator's art," as opposed to the statement which contains the actions. To prove a case involves establishing its stasis or crux (balance). This can be any one of four aspects of a question in dispute: (i) Was the act committed? (ii) If the act was committed, did it do any harm? (iii) If it did harm, how much? (iv) If it was harmful, was it justified? The function then of the proof is to "attempt demonstrative proofs." It also includes refutation and confutation • Epilogue, the fourth and final part of the oration. It has four functions: (i) to make the audience well-disposed toward you and ill-disposed toward your opponent; (ii) to magnify or minimize the principal facts; (iii) to excite the required emotion in your hearers; and (iv) to refresh their memories. Aristotle, Rhetoric, Book III 1414a - 1419b. The how-to-do-it instructions have changed little in the past 2000 years. This hierarchical system probably remains because one better learns or retains information if it is presented in an orderly fashion. Like dialectic, rhetoric has no separate subject matter; it is rather a "faculty for providing arguments." The proper method of delivery is a "matter of the right managment of the voice" involving three factors: volume, pitch, and rhythm. A good style of delivery must be clear, appropriate, and natural. A writer must disguise his art and give the impression of speaking naturally and not artificially. Naturalness is persuasive, artificiality is the contrary. 150 Aristotle also commands that strange words, compound words, and invented words must be used sparingly because they depart from what is suitable in the direction of excess. He counsels the use of proper and regular terms for things and metaphorical terms can be used with advantage because these terms are used by everybody in conversation. Metaphors must be fitting otherwise their inappropriateness will be conspicuous. Words of ambiguous meaning are not to be used. They are chiefly used by sophists to enable them to mislead their hearers (Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle did not esteem the Sophists). The classical rhetorical system assumes that the orator or rhetorician can effectively achieve what they want to achieve. It assumes the rhetorician is a good man, yet for Aristotle the key to persuasion is self-interest. Therefore, the important point had to be linked to the audience's reality, that is, connect the issue with the already established issue, the accepted knowledge in the audience. Platonic and Christian doctrine belief is that knowledge, truth, is outside the person and that one must struggle for it; that one comes to know through illumination. For Aristotle, truth is held in common by the group exchange agreement - the "mean"; that one knows through exchange (this idea is very modern in a scientific sense, i.e., morphogenis. Jung (1973) coined the term synchronicity for this phenomena, Sheldrake (1981) and Houston (1982) refer to this as a theory of morphogenesis. Physicists use this theory to explain the reality of certain matter). However, there is a marked absence of some issues in classical rhetoric that do pertain to modern times. The writer will only identify a few of these 151 and let the reader enlarge upon them and ponder the implications for today's society. One is the issue of self-deception on the part of the rhetorician. Another is the consideration of moral issues: Who decides right from wrong; can the orator's logic be wrong; can what is right be asked at the wrong time; is the morality too narrow, too liberal; can the orator be persuaded away from the moral position for love, self-preservation? The assumption that is explicit for Aristotle and many classical rhetoricians is that rhetoricians know what people want and what people like, and that the rhetorician is a good man. However, implicit in the role of the effective, persuasive orator, is the self-deceiving enchantment of the power of words and their effects, the beguiling of the orator by his own art. Thus we must accept that it implys the power to persuade for good or i l l . And therefore, we are left with the question: Can we have rhetoric without motive? New Rhetoric The new rhetoric of Kenneth Burke has no assumptions that the rhetor is a good man but defines rhetoric as involving the use of language, as symbolic action, to form beliefs and opinions in people, beings who by nature respond to symbols, and which lead/enable them to act correspondingly for purposes of cooperation and competition. Rhetoric is the means or style of verbal or non-verbal communication, used by individuals or collectives, consciously or unconsciously, which serves to produce action. This can be achieved through a host of evident and subtle techniques, devices, and rhetorical modes, and the 152 subsequent action may be of a cooperative or competitive spirit. The key term for the classical rhetoric was persuasion and its stress was upon deliberate design. The key term for the new rhetoric would be identification which can include a partially unconscious factor in appeal. Appeal is the essence of communication. When men use symbols to induce cooperation in other human beings, they must identify themselves with the audience. Thus rhetoric becomes a study of the various modes of achieving identification. The way we structure our discourse could be one of the ways in which we adjust our discourse to fit the needs of our audience. By implication this also means that having identified our audience's needs we may adjust our discourse in order to overtly or covertly influence the audience's needs with needs which, in essence, may be the speaker's needs, or those with which the speaker identifies (which, for any number of personal reasons, may or may not be moral or ethical in terms of greater human good). For Burke a definition sums things up so that all the properties imputed to the thing defined can be as though derived from the definition, but this is logically prior to the observations that it recapitulates. Burke also believes that a definition of man is at least implicit in any writer's comments on cultural matters, thus he carefully assembles appropriate observations of man in order to offer us his definition, with which we are at liberty to agree or to decide on our own modifications, so that we can understand what he means by man's use of language as symbolic action. 153 In the first clause defining man as the symbol-using animal, Burke claims that humans are distinguished by a prowess with, and responsiveness to, symbols. He notes the extent to which our symbol-systems, as opposed to our sense experience, construct for us what we think of as reality, and that by virtue of the ability to do and to make things man has acquired a "second nature" above/beyond the capabilities of other animals. Thus words not only link us to reality; they also screen us from it. For Burke, man, alone, is the symbol-using, symbol-making, and symbol-misusing animal, and he alone is capable of using the device of symbolic action, explicitly and implicitly, to indicate his uniqueness. Another important point in his first clause toward his definition of man is substitution. In his analysis of dream symbolism, Freud (1913/1946) laid great emphasis upon the two processes of "condensation" and "displacement." Burke points out, arising from Freud's observations, that in his definition the term "symbolism" is used in a much wider sense and that these processes are not confined merely to the symbolism of dreams and neuroses, but are also an aspect of normal symbol systems. A fundamental resource "natural" to symbolism is substitution. This is evident when we paraphrase; if you don't get it one way, we can try another way. As examples, we translate Japanese to English, Fahrenheit into Centigrade, pounds into kilograms, English spelling to American spelling. Here substitution is a quite rational source of symbolism; it is a more general aspect of what Freud meant by "displacement." Another typical resource of language is 154 "abbreviation." Abbreviation is a kind of substitution, thus a form of "displacement" while also being a form of "condensation." This shows that language can be used to radically abbreviate the message symbols without destroying the intent of the content or reducing the understanding intended. If the writer refers to Mr. Hughes by name, then countless corners have been cut as regards the particularities of that specific person. Or if one speaks of a familiar bus route by a number, one can refer to, while leaving unsaid, all that is subsumed under that title in terms of its route. So condensation can be viewed as a species of substitution. And quite "rational" kinds of "condensation" take place when "tables," "chairs," "beds" are referred to as furniture, or "Mum and Dad" are referred to as parents and so on. An important point that ensues from these observations is when emotional involvement is added to symbolism's resources of substitution. The conditions materalize for the symbol-using animal to tinker with varying kinds of substitution; substitutions that we experience in men's modes of penance, expiation, compensation, the paying of fines in lieu of bodily punishment, the paying of experts in lieu of being personally responsible, and the cult of the scapegoat. Thus substitution sets the condition for "transcendence." There exists a technical sense in which the name of a thing can be said to transcend the thing named by making for a kind of ascent from the realm of motion and matter to the realm of essence and spirit. The subterfuges of euphemism can carry this process still further culminating in the resources of idealization. This idealization 155 has been perfected through the dialectic of Plato, Sufi and Buddhist poet philosophers, and other poets such as Donne, Tennyson, and Shakespeare in their varied discourses on The Way (e.g., Tao, Sufism, etc.). The next clause in Burke's definition of man deals with the negative. The negative is a function peculiar to symbol-systems. Burke is concerned here with the fact that there are no negatives in nature and that this ingenious addition is solely a product of human symbol-systems. One the negative's prime uses involves its role with regard to unfulfilled expectations. We expect a certain happening and something different happens. Thus we could say the expected did not happen. But so far as the actual state of affairs is concerned, some happening positively prevails. Burke's emphasis is on the "hortatory" negative "Thou Shalt Not" rather than the propositional negative "It is not." The negative begins not as a resource of definition or information but as a command, as Don't. Burke points out that we cannot have an "idea of nothing": That we must imagine a "black hole," a "white light," something being annhilated or an abyss or some such. But he suggests that we can and do have an "idea of No," an "idea of Don't." In a subtle sense there is a paradox about "don't." That is, the negative is but a principle, an idea, not a name for a thing. Thus the injunction "thou shall not kill" is understandable enough as a negative idea, yet it also permits an aura of the positive image of killing. However, the main point the writer wishes to make is - though we may not always obey the "thou shall not," and though there will naturally be, in the offing, an image positively 156 inviting disobedience, we "get the idea." Thus this is in agreement with the many definitions that stress man as a moral agent and that all moral terms are of a polar orientation. That is, the persuasive messages, particularly the religious messages, are so often built antithetically to other persuasions. Therefore, as there is an implied sense of negativity in the ability to use words at all, in order to use words properly, man must know what they don't mean, or what they don't represent. And since language is extended by metaphor, which gradually becomes the kind of dead metaphor we call abstraction, we must know that metaphor is not literal. Further is the point that we cannot use language maturely until we are instinctively at home in irony. That is, as a familiar example, if the weather is awful, and someone says, what a beautiful day! we spontaneously know that this is not what is meant by these words. Irony often is a form of utterance that postulates a double audience consisting of one party who shall hear and shall not understand, and another party that, when more is meant than meets the ear, is aware of both their knowing what is intended for them and what is incomprehensible to the other or outsider. Thus, the negative helps to define man and that a necessary and implicit condition of symbols is that they are not the thing they stand for. The third clause in Burke's definition states that our use of tools separates us from our environment. Furthermore, by making possible the specialization of work, our tool-making ability also separates us from one another. It concerns the fact that even the most primitive of tribes are led by inventions to depart somewhat from the needs of food, shelter, and sex as defined by the survival standards of the simply animal. According to Burke, the implements of 157 hunting and husbandry, with corresponding implements of war, make for a set of habits that become a kind of "second nature," as a special set of expectations, shaped by custom, comes to seem "natural." Burke believes that the development of tools requires a kind of attention not possible without a symbolic means of conceptualization. For Burke other animals lack a second level of symbolicity; the "reflexive" dimension (or reasoning) to develop additional complex arrangements or organizations about previous symbols (animals, we think, do not use words about words, nor do they appear to invent, spontaneously, ways and means of improving simple sticks, or whatever, to obtain food or to use as weapons). Burke is also precise here by saying that language, in its essence, is not a tool. Language is a species of action, symbolic action, and its nature is such that it can be used as a tool. The fourth clause concerns man being goaded by the spirit of hierarchy or, less weightily, "moved by a sense of order." Here we encounter secular analogues of original sin: that despite any cult of good manners and humility, social structure becomes differentiated, with privileges to some that are denied to others. Social structures build pride, guilt, and mystery into human life. Multi-national company president and itinerant market-garden field-worker (king and peasant) are mysteries to each other. Those up are guilty of not being down, those down are certainly guilty of not being up. Here man's skill with symbols combined with the concept of negativity, plus inventions which imply preferences, that is, tendencies toward different modes of livelihood implicit in the invention that makes for divisions of labour, creates a division of labour, and an 158 allocation of property, protected by the negativities of the law, which, in turn creates and perpetuates an hierarchy. The final characteristic accorded to man by Burke is that man is rotten with perfection. The principle of perfection is central to the nature of language as motive: that the mere desire to name something by its "proper" name, or to speak a language in its distinctive ways is intrinsically "perfectionist." Our awarenes includes our knowledge both of perfection as a goal and of the improbabilitj' of ever reaching that goal. Burke finds that there is a principle of perfection implicit in the nature of symbol systems, and in keeping with his nature as a symbol-using animal, man is moved by this principle. The principle of perfection derives sustenance from other primary aspects of symbolicity. The principle of drama is implicit in the idea of action, and the principle of victimage is implicit in the nature of drama. Thus the negative helps to define the elements to be victimized. And as substitution is a prime resource of symbol-systems, the conditions are set for cartharsis by scapegoating, including, in Freudian terms, the "natural" invitation to project upon the opponent any troublesome traits of our own that we would negate. The problems of "pride" that are intrinsic to privilege also bring the motive of hierarchy to bear here. For many kinds of guilt, resentment, and fear tend to cluster about the hierarchal psychosis and its corresponding search for a sacrificial principle such as can be represented in a political scapegoat. To close the subject of perfection we can observe that, ignoring the ontological truth or falsity of the issue, there are simply technical reasons, 159 intrinsic to the nature of language, for belief in God and the Devil. Insofar as language is intrinsically hortatory, God perfectly embodies the petition. Similarly, the Devil provides a prime target for invective. Heaven and Hell together provide the perfect grounding for sanctions. God is also the perfect audience for praise and lamentation which are two primary modes of symbolic action: lamentation allowing or admitting tests of biological priority to man. We now have before us a definition of man as the "political animal" or the "culture-bearing animal" and the "I-Thou" relating man. Thus Burke (1966) defined man as: Man is The symbol-using (symbol-making, symbol-misusing) animal inventor of the negative (or moralized by the negative) separated from his natural condition by instruments of his own making goaded by the spirit of hierarchy (or moved by a sense of order) and rotten with perfection (or condemned to hopeless perfectionism) (p. 16). The next issue of importance in establishing this framework for analysis is identified as directing the attention; the use by man of terministic screens (Burke, 1966). A terministic screen refers to given terminology whose nature inextricably reflects, selects, and deflects slices or chunks of reality. Our screen represents our particular slice or chunk of reality. It governs both what we can't help but see and what we may find difficult (or impossible) to see; it 160 permits and limits our observation of the world. Just as much as any word or collection of words is a "reflection" of reality, it follows that the word(s) is(are) also a "selection" of reality: for words are the finite ways humans have for discussing and communicating an infinite number of things. Because each and every person sees and interprets reality from his or her own experience or vantage point (subjectivity), and because amorphous reality can be expressed in finite ways (words), then one's terminology comes to embody one's larger world or reality-view. A terministic screen directs attention, which is different for one person than for another, to a correspondingly different quality of observations. Kinds of terministic screens are vehicles to observe the situation in keeping with its nature. Terministic screens posit differences in degree as well as in kind. It is a particular nomenclature in which one may proceed to track down kinds of observations implicit in the terminology chosen and whether those choices were deliberate or spontaneous. This is analogous to the colour filters used in photography where the original image is "screened" or "touched" by the filters. Or we may say that one's choice of terms, which represent the larger reality, at once screens reality as it enters consciousness and shapes the outgoing product embodied in the. words: meaning via language. Thus we may "spotlight" some aspects of a situation with the result that other aspects of the same situation are cast into darkness. In other words, the terms we use to describe situations convey our view of the world and invite others to share it. As such, terms can be analyzed with regard to the assumptions they make about the nature of the situation, its structure, those involved, and their means and aims. 161 Thus, many observations are but the implications of the particular terminology in which the observations are made. A n example might be one person seeing a situation as a problem, another person viewing the same situation as a challenge. In terms of research, the particular methodology chosen with its inherent perspective and bias enables one to identify the assumptions of the researcher, or the organization employing the researcher. There is one other issue that Burke would like us to consider and that is entitling. With entitling Burke proposes a reversal of the view that words are the signs of things, he proposes that things are the signs of words: that words might be found to possess spirit peculiar to their nature as words. According to Burke "language as a means of entitling" means that things are the signs of words rather than the reversal. Things become the signs of the genius that reside in words. This is similar to what Richards (1936) meant, which is textual, and is based on how words work in relation to other words. Thus speech is the entitling of complex non-verbal situations: Words in mediating between the social realm and the realm of non-verbal nature communicate to things a spirit, a spirit the society accepts or imposes upon these words which come to be the names of them; that all non-verbal nature is emblematic of the spirit reflected in it by man's linguistic genius. Words signify or stand for something else. This view can be supported by the assumption that a knowable, pre-eminent, established reality exists out there. Things of experience become, in effect, the materialism of such spirit, the manifest of this spirit in visible, tangible bodies. "Time" is an example of this. 162 Thus, according to the writer, the assumptions behind Burke's statement, things are the signs of words as opposed to the commonsense notion that words are the signs of things, are: That language shapes, inspirits, infuses the non-verbal with human significance That it puts value and attitude into things because of its nature as a social product That language mediates between the verbal and the non-verbal That it is the authority of the human community that creates the inspiriting function of language That language is capable of functioning as a heuristic device for the exploration of reality That language conveys meaning without changing it That words represent, or stand for things That thought is temporally and logically prior to language. We might ask ourselves here to what extent might Burke be, somewhat mischievously, stating an extreme position - stretching the role of language about as far as it will go - in order to prod us toward a middle position in recognizing the genuine power of words, the dialectic inherent in entitling! He may not seriously espouse the radical position he takes in saying What are the signs of what? Yet it remains that, when man and his words did not exist, that reality, which we now entitle, did exist and areas may exist of which we are not yet cognisant and, therefore, are not titled by man. There is one more area of language that requires to be broached and that is the metaphor. Metaphor or figurative language deviates from what we apprehend as the standard significance or sequence of words, in order to achieve special meaning or effect. Since classical times figurative language has often been divided into two classes: (1) Figures of thought, or tropes (meaning turns or conversions), in which words are used in a way that effects a decided change 163 or extension in their standard meaning; and (2) figures of speech or rhetorical figures, in which the departure from standard use is not, primarily, in the meaning but in the order and rhetorical effect of the words. Thus, in a metaphor, as opposed to a simile, a word which in standard (or literal) usage denotes one kind of thing, quality, or action is applied to another, in the form of a statement of identity not of comparison. That metaphor is the omnipresent principle of language can be shown by mere observation. We cannot get through a few sentences of ordinary discourse without it. Even in the rigid language of the settled sciences we do not eliminate or prevent it without great difficulty. In the semi-technicalised subjects such as sociology, ethics, psychology, politics, education and health fields, our constant and chief difficulty is to discover how we are using it and how our supposedly fixed words are shifting their senses. Thus we can take no step safely without a persistent awareness of the metaphors we, and our audience, may be employing and responding to, and though we may pretend to eschew them, we can attempt to do so only by detecting them. And this is more so the more severe and abstract the discipline is. And as the discipline or idea grows more abstract we think increasingly by means of metaphors and images that we profess not to be relying on. The metaphors we avoid steer our thought as much as those we accept. It is wise to become aware of metaphor and not attempt to eradicate it. Attempts to analyse metaphor solely to debunk an argument or suggest that it is "nothing but" a metaphor are to be discouraged. What is to be encouraged is the analysis, an activity the writer believes is of considerable and increasing importance for research in matters 164 educational. In the simplest formulation, when we use a metaphor we have two thoughts of different things active together and supported by a single word, or phrase, whose meaning is a result of their interaction. Metaphor has been made to seem a verbal matter, a shifting and displacement of words, whereas, fundamentally it is a borrowing between and interaction of thoughts, a transaction between contexts. Thought is temporal and metaphoric, and proceeds by comparison, and the metaphors of language derive therefrom (Richards, 1936). Jeremy Bentham (1749-1832) insisted upon one inference that might be drawn; namely, that the mind and all its doings are Fictions. Coleridge (1772-1834) and Kenneth Burke, as well as many other writers, point to further inference; namely, that matter and its adventures, and all the derivative objects of contemplation, are fictions too, of varied rank because of varied service; a nice summation! Recapitulation Thus, to recapitulate some of the salient points of a rhetorical framework offered by these authors, rhetorical studies are properly concerned with the process by which symbols and systems of symbols have (exert) influence upon beliefs, values, attitudes, and actions, and they embrace all forms of human communication, not exclusive^ public address nor communication within any one class or cultural group. 165 Aristotle was not only the father of formal logic, but also the father of the theory of argumentation. In his Analytics, Aristotle studied the forms of valid inference and specifically the syllogism which allows us, certain hypotheses given, to infer from them a necessary conclusion. If A is B and if B is C, then the necessary result is that A is C. The inference is valid whether the premises are true or false, but the conclusion is true only if the premises are true. This inference is characterized both by the fact that it is purely formal, that is, valid whatever be the contents of the terms A , B, and C (the only stipulation being that each letter be replaced by the same value each time it is used), and at the same time by the fact that it establishes a connection between the truth of the premises and that of the conclusion. Since truth is a property of the proposition and is independent of personal opinion, analytic reasoning is demonstrative and impersonal. But this is not the case with dialectical reasoning. Aristotle tells us that dialectical reasoning presupposes premises which are constituted by generally accepted opinions. The generally accepted premises are those which are accepted by everyone or by the majority or by the philosophers. Usually, what is generally acceptable is reasonable, not probable, although on occasion it might be. We should note, that that probability concerns only past or future facts or events. Therefore, we can see that dialectical reasoning begins from theses that are generally accepted with the purpose of gaining' the acceptance of other theses which could be or are controversial. Thus it aims either to persuade or convince. But instances of dialectical reasoning are not made up of series of valid and compelling inferences; rather they advance arguments which are more 166 or less strong, more or less convincing, and which are never purely formal. Moreover, as Aristotle noted, a persuasive argument is one that persuades the person to whom it is addressed; this means that, unlike the process of analytical reasoning, a dialectical argument cannot be impersonal for it derives its value from its action upon the mind of some person. As a consequence, it is necessary to clearly distinguish analytical from dialectical reasoning; the former dealing with truth and the latter with justifiable opinion. Aristotle saw rhetoric as the counterpart of dialectic. For him dialectic was concerned with arguments used in controversy or discussion with an individual; rhetoric concerned the orator's technique in addressing a crowd gathered in a public place - a group of people who lack both specialized knowledge and the ability to follow a lengthy chain of argument. In contrast to classical rhetoric, the new rhetoric is concerned with informative and suasory discourse addressed to any sort of audience in any place, be they specialists, a local crowd, an individual, or all persons. It even examines arguments addressed to oneself in private deliberation. That is, the rhetor seeks identification with the audience. Since it aims to study non-demonstrative discourse, its analysis of reasoning is not limited to formally correct inferences or to a varied level of mechanical calculations. This theory of argumentation, conceived as a new rhetoric or dialectic, covers the whole range of discourse that aims at persuasion and conviction, whomever the audience addressed and whatever the subject matter. 167 For Kenneth Burke the political rhetor uses language of identification to confront the implications of division and thus can move from the factional to the universal - to consubstantiate. This allows an examination of a changing social order and the importance of the resources of ambiguity as a strategy (Burke, 1950). Some dramatist strategies include avoiding interaction altogether, remaining silent, or changing the topic. One may analyse a changing social order according to a dramatist sequence by examining the highly evocative, image producing, pervasive language of Western cultures. This dramatist sequence is: First, the return to an Hierarchy (the structure of power). Second is Guilt (the feeling of wrongdoing). Third is the projective mechanism of Scapegoat (the person to be blamed). Fourth is Sacrifice (the suffering for the wrong). Fifth is Redemption (the being saved from), and last is Salvation (the ultimate new society). This dramatist sequence can be observed in major literary works, from epic poems to Shakespeare's plays, to modern thought-provoking films. Therefore, the major claims can be summarized thus: Although it is normally through intuition that the simple ideas and the first principles of a theoretical science are grasped, it is recognized that recourse to argument becomes necessary in practical disciplines such as ethics and politics where choices and controversies are inevitable. The decline of rhetoric since the end of the sixteenth century was due to the rise of European bourgeois thought which generalized the role of evidence: The personal evidence of Protestantism, the rational evidence of Cartesianism, or the sensible evidence of empiricism. With the new rhetoric we 168 seek to identify, in their verbal structures, how the orators (or arguers) claim rationality: How do claims to reasonableness arise in prose that is formally logical? What does reasonable mean for someone who speaks of reasonable men? The new rhetoric of contemporary scholars abandons the traditional distinctions between rhetoric and dialectic, and contends that how opinionative ideas are to be argued will be substantially the same in either circumstance because the rhetorician is always seeking the adherence of some other person or persons to an undemonstrable thesis. The subordinating of philosophical logic to the new rhetoric is not novel. It is a centuries-old debate. The great tradition of Western metaphysics which Parmenides, Plato, Descartes, and Kant represent has always contrasted the search after truth, the announced goal of philosophy, to the techniques of the rhetoricians and sophists, who have always satisfied themselves with getting people to agree to opinions that are as diverse as they are misleading. Parmenides preferred the road of truth to that of appearance; Descartes based science on unshakeable self-evidence, treating what was only probable as all but false; and Kant proposed to rid philosophy of opinions altogether by elaborating a metaphysics which is essentially an epistemology, an inventory of all the forms of knowing which, "having an a priori foundation, must be held in advance to be absolutely necessary" (Kant, 1783/1945). To be certain that the propositions articulated by the philosophers did not constitute uncertain and false opinions instead of indisputable truths, it was necessary that these propositions have the benefit of a solid and unquestionable 169 basis - self-evident intuition that could guarantee the truth of what is perceived as self-evident. The self-evidence so conceived is not a subjective condition, varying from one moment to the next, or from individual to individual: Its role is rather to establish a bridge between what is perceived as self-evident by the knowing subject and the truth of the self-evident proposition, which must impose itself in the same way on every rational being. But an argument is never capable of procuring self-evidence, and there is no way of arguing against what is self-evident. Whoever states a self-evident proposition is sure that it will compel everyone with the same evidence. Thus, argument can intervene only where self-evidence is contested (Perelman, 1968). Aristotle had already noticed this; he recognized that it is absolutely necessary to resort to dialectical reasoning when the first principles of science are contested. The same thing happens when people dispute a definition. The contempt for rhetoric and the eclipse of the theory of argumentation have led to the negation of practical reason: problems of action being sometimes reduced to problems of knowledge, that is, of truth or probability, and sometimes considered as totally irrelevant to reason. But, if we want to acquire a clear awareness of the intellectual methods that are employed, all who believe in the existence of reasonable choice, preceded by deliberation or discussion where different solutions confront each other, then we cannot avoid a theory of argumentation such as the new rhetoric presents. The new rhetoric is not limited to the sphere of practice: It is at the heart of theoretical problems for anyone who is conscious of the roles that are 170 played in our theories by the choice of definitions, models, and analogies, and in a more general way, by the elaboration of an appropriate language, adapted to the field of our investigations. It is in this sense that the role of rhetoric, of argument, can be conjoined with practical reason: It is a role that is fundamental in all areas in which we perceive the work of practical reason, even when our concern is with the solution of theoretical problems. It is in this area that adult education could implement the position of a detail worker. A philosopher educator role for the formulating and refining of concepts and general principles and the instantiating of them to their situational context. The combining of practical reason and experience in the solution of theoretical problems. Having placed before the reader a framework for the analysis of rhetoric let us now turn to an analysis of the speech and actions of present political leaders in British Columbia. 171 C H A P T E R V T H E RHETORIC OF T H E L E A D E R S A n Analysis The purpose of this section is to enlarge our understanding of political intent by examining the rhetorical visions and strategies which occur in the speeches of present political rhetors of British Columbia. The rhetorical device of oft repeated connotative language with a function similar to a leitmotif, is language which projects an image which omits, purposefully, contextual cues and allows for multiple interpretations on the part of receivers. The political or deliberative orator's aim is utility: deliberation seeks to determine not ends but the means to ends (i.e. what it is most useful to do). But we must also notice the ends which the various forms of government pursue, since people choose in practice such actions as will lead to the realization of their ends (i.e. men choose their means with reference to their ends). As has been observed humans are both social and symbolic beings. What is less frequently identified is the strategic use of symbols to facilitate the social order. It is maintained that societies are organized upon the principle of unequal power, and that this power differential is maintained largely through the use of language as symbolic action by those in power. One common strategy for preserving existing impressions and protecting privileged positions is strategic 172 ambiguity or, deliberate dissemblance. This can be achieved by the use of tropes, substitutive, or connotative language, or condensation and displacement. In politics, strategic ambiguity is one way in which politicians can opt for "character insurance" in order to maintain their formal or informal standing with the electorate. Messages of an ambiguous nature in task-related communication can preserve future options. Disclosure of information in unequivocal terms limits options and may prematurely endanger the sought but unstated objectives. Explicitness removes the comforts of ambiguity. Rather than being entirely secretive, or clear, political communication often employs some form of deniable discourse. By complicating the sense-making responsibilities of the receiver, a strategically ambiguous message allows the source to both reveal and conceal, to express and protect, should it become necessary to retreat or 'save face'. There is much to be gained in venturing nothing (Churchill, 1940), and there is often more to be gained by giving the appearance of venturing something which, on closer inspection, may be made to seem like nothing. It is important to note that clear communication is also deniable; it is just more difficult to do so and at the same time get re-elected. Thus, dissimulation as a strategy for ambiguity must be seen as a continuum, from most clear to most ambiguous; the more ambiguous the message, the easier it is to deny specific interpretation. And as long as ambiguity of political rhetoric is regarded as deviational rather than as a usual interaction by politicians, we will remain unenlightened about the most dramatic aspect of political rhetoric: those instances of communication which most influence our lives. 173 The proclaimed intent of the rhetors of the present government is government fiscal restraint and accountability to the electorate. This is promoted by carefully chosen connotative language which has come to identify certain groups in our society. Some of the oft repeated words and phrases used are: the "ability to pay," public service "downsizing," cut-back managment, trimming the fat, wage restraint, development, growth, efficiency, productivity, incentives, de-regulation, free-enterprise, privatization, entrepreneurship, high-technology, positive and togetherness, our international competetive position and the creation of a place safe for foreign and national investment, and the importance and vitality of Canada's voluntary sector. A l l these words and phrases are used to establish the enthymeme or rhetorical syllogism, the dialectical reasoning of the rhetor. They are also forms of substitution, of condensation and displacement, and are used as terministic screens to encourage like-vision in the audience; to achieve an agreement to the transcendence and idealization of the business enterprise. Hierarchy Every movement that would recruit its followers from among many discordant and divergent groups must have some goal to which all roads lead. If a movement must have its Rome, it must also have its devil. A n important ingredient of unity is the symbol of a common enemy. People who can unite on nothing else can unite on the basis of a shared disaster (the cameraderie of the trenches). Accordingly, to maintain the structure of power (hierarchy) the leaders of the political party see it as appropriate that they provide the leadership to 174 bring the people out of their prior held expectations; expectations of a lifestyle and social order of the industrial age (which is in disarray) into the new technological age and its social order. The leaders seek consubstantiation with the people by bringing their world view as a means of salvation. This view is identified with the needs of business investment. The connotative words that imply esteem are those of the business sector (i.e., development, growth, productivity, efficiency, free enterprise, de-regulation, and entrepreneurial skills, to name some). Therefore, the arguments derived from the use of these words are probable and persuasive to the audience. These words engender an implicit premise, and this is the enthymeme used by the rhetor. There is little opposition to the political leader's legitimacy as an authority. The identity of a legitimate authority is an element of rhetorical strategy. The power was granted the political leader by the people, yet the ethos of his appeal is to the business sector in the community. Conspicuously absent from the rhetoric that encourages business investment is the word democracy. Its absence is significant. Reform liberal ideology has advanced the state as an instrument of majority interests, as government for all the people. Free-enterprise has been important in liberal thought, but since the early 1940s it has been tempered by intervention of the state through welfare policies. With the centralizing of government services through cutbacks and downsizing, the tempering has been eliminated. The message is that the state is there to serve private capital both in fact and pronouncement. 175 If free-enterprise is to be our salvation, then for salvation, guilt needs to be identified so that sacrifice can be made. The identification of wrongdoing is presented in the message that there is a fiscal crisis, that there is no mone3r? no more ability to pay. Because "we" (the assumed "we") have been spendthrifts in the past, harsh medicine is now required, and we must accept that our elected representatives know what this medicine is, and we must swallow it no matter how bitter. Guilt There is no question it is unpleasant medicine that world economies and governmental revenues are depressed presently and those of British Columbia exhibit long-term structural problems as well. But both the use of revenue and the amount of revenue are the result of political judgements which reflect the politicians' reading of community preferences. A governing political party which elects to continue construction work on Expo 86 and uses its power and authority and the construction site as a tool to erode the power of the trades unions is but stating its ideology and its priorities and sending a message to all onlookers. The subsidizing of coal exports and high profile construction while saving a few thousand dollars by cutting subsidies to support the handicapped and transition houses is making a statement about priorities and people, not the accepting of dictates of resource constraint. The contradictory actions expose the ideological position. 176 A community which accepts reduced financial support for education, reduced funding provided for health care, the closure of the Human Rights office and the Rentalsmans office, the threat to the ombudsman's position, while spending millions on recreational endeavours, millions on dining, wine and spirits, and other alcholic beverages, millions on cars and gas, videos, and cigarettes is not acting- from imposed limits on the ability to pay. The early retirement of debt on the B .C . railway of $470 million, while reducing economic support for senior's activity centres, is not responding to stated economic realities, but reflects personal and political preferences and ideology. Scapegoat The words used to identify the other, not me also reflect personal and political preference and ideology. These others, who will become the chosen scapegoat, are identified with words whose connotations imply that there are groups in society who would destroy all finance by their lack of productivity and their demands upon the system. The expenditures of the welfare state are overtly and covertly inferred as causes of fiscal crisis emanating from prior, poorly managed, other government, even though this political party has been in power for many years. These expenditures are identified by language that connotes waste and abuse; that there have been too many free or easy rides, too many free lunches. Consequently our medicine is to trim the fat, to restrain our wage demands, to downsize overweight departments. A l l evoke images of indulgence at the trough. But they also raise the thought "it is my 177 money which is being used." And who wants to support a group who do nothing productive to support themselves but just expect handouts? Or it might raise the image of a group who work but who are seen to demand too much income while I have to be satisfied with less. The contradiction that occurs for most people, in terms of their constrained circumstances and their knowledge of personal budgeting, is that the rhetor says they must also spend their money in order to get the economy moving. It is confounding for cautious people and irrelevant for the unemployed to expect to contribute. The pathos of these rhetorical persuasions is to stir the emotions of people to affect their judgment, and though this is accompanied with the pain of having less, there is also pleasure, albeit a strange form, in that those who have over-indulged or abused the system will now suffer. The logos of* the rhetoric is the apparent truth that all along we have known some of us have fed too well for too long. The metonymical use of activities associated with food and overeating is an effective strategy given the industry with which trim, slim, and fit is promoted in today's society and the disapproval and guilt cast upon those who are overweight and unfit. So who are the enemies of the new era, who are identified as the scapegoats to be sacrificed for redemption, what is the cause to be named in the rhetoric and actions of the present governing politicians? Every conflict among parliamentary spokespersons represents a corresponding conflict among the material interests of the groups for whom they are speaking. By centering an attack upon the symptoms of business conflict 178 and leaving the underlying cause, the business conflicts themselves, out of the case, the spokesperson can gratify the very public they would otherwise alienate: namely the businessmen. However, not only is the symptomatic stressed by the rhetors but there is also a search for the cause and this cause is derived from his medicine, his naming for us those who have grown too fat. Thus we have a non-economic interpretation of a phenomenon economically engendered. This policy is exemplified in the selection of an international devil, the trades unions and those who have strength through membership in unions. We now have the materialization of a religious pattern which is an old but effective weapon of propaganda in a time when religion has been progressively weakened by many centuries of capitalist materialism and psychological theories. We need only go back to the sermonizing of centuries of our history to be reminded that religion had a powerful enemy long before organized atheism came upon the scene. Religion is based upon the prosperity of poverty, upon the use of ways for converting our sufferings and handicaps into a good. But capitalism is based upon the prosperity of acquisitions, the only value by which its proliferating store of gadgets could be sold, assuming for the moment that capitalism has not got so insensately in its own way that it can no longer sell its gadgets even after it has trained people to think and feel that human dignity, the "higher standard of living," could be attained only by their vast private accumulation. Thusfar we have a unifying symbol, the international devil materialized, in the visible, point-to-able form of people with a certain kind of affiliation, a ribald 179 aspect of contemporary neo-positivism's ideal of meaning, which insists upon a material reference. Once the enemy is thus essentialized, proof is henceforth automatic. Sexual symbolism has a material reference in connotative language use that lies in wait to draw upon the responses of contemporary sexual values as a tactic in political rhetoric. The political rhetors' personal styles are dominant and assertive (not necessarily attractive) and they use a style and language of power arid authority. The behaviour of an influential politician is labelled powerful because of the position of power held by the person. By themselves, actions are neither powerful nor powerless. Context gives meaning to behaviour in that the power of an action rests in the actor, not in the behaviour alone. Two competing ideas emerge. One is that actors are perceived to be powerless because they engage in powerless actions. It follows from this assertion that persons lack power because their actions lack power. The second position is that actions are perceived to be powerless due to the powerlessness of the source. This suggests that some people's behaviour is perceived to be powerless, not because of the nature of the action, but due to its source. This is particularly true for women and the poor. It is called discrimination, a discrimination based upon gender. It is argued that all human societies allocate roles on the basis of gender. Socialization patterns in all cultures are geared to prepare persons for their socially acceptable and allocated roles. This segregation is thought to have generated a linguistic dichotomy along gender lines; i.e., males' speech tended to 180 become assertive and females' speech supportive, and because the male has become the dominant, powerful sexual symbol those that are seen as weak or powerless are seen as feminine. It is argued that this scenario is true for education. Educational endeavours given esteem and funding, portrayed as useful, are in the sciences, research, economics, business administration, computer science and law. Power and wealth are bj'-products for those who possess this knowledge. These areas of study or employment are predominately male empires. Disciplines which have been cast as frills, as extras, inferior academically or wasteful, as having to show cause for their existence in the climate of restraint, are disciplines where women outnumber men. It is predicted that if their source is seen as powerless then they will be cast with the masses and suffer discrimination. A n example of the sexual overtones of struggle is the issue between the government and the unions at the Expo site. The tradesunions were emasculated and made feminine with variously sexual symbolic language; those who shared the union sentiments were weakened, and all were cast with the masses, who historically, have always been feminine. Analysis of instances in our history of feminizing or depriving men of their manhood as a strategy to unnerve, to devitalize, and to domesticate them are to be found in works by many authors (Dickens, 1840; Marx, 1843; Mi l l , 1862; de Beauvoir, 1970; K . Burke, 1973; Chesler, 1976; Caldicott, 1978; Rich, 1979; Jagger, 1983; Morgan, 1984). And as such, the pervasive sexual portent is they desire to be led by a dominating male. This male as orator, woos them - and as he has won, he commands them. The rival, deflowered, is only a caricature and, therefore, unable to seduce. 181 The medicinal appeal of this group as scapegoat also operates from another aspect. The middle class person expresses a duality: the members simultaneously have a cult about money and a detestation of this cult. When the economy of capitalism is doing well, this conflict is quiescent. But when the economic climate declines it comes to the fore. Hence there is protective medicine for the middle class who can project upon the scapegoat their own denied knowledge. Thus the bad features can be allocated to the devil; the individuals can respect themselves by distinction between good and bad capitalism, with those of a different lodge being the bearers of bad capitalism. This strategy also divides and weakens the different lodge as members absent themselves, perhaps through fear of reprisals, the failure or unwillingness to deal with the contradictions of their actions, or the rationalizations caused by survival needs. It is probable that this remedy as a strategy has spared the political rhetors the necessity of explaining in clear unequivocal terms what is meant by government restraint and the concept of productivity. The action of establishing a Joint Committee on Productivity to pursue modes of employee involvement in administrative or procedural improvement, and consultative planning for organizational downsizing and redeployment, to which education is fiercly subjected, rather than formal productivity monitoring, emphasizes the importance of an organizational orientation and superordinate values to achieve organizational effectiveness, not whether the productivity is improved or even how that might be ascertained. Just to say that productivity will be improved through incentives such as centralized financial managment systems does not make it so. However, 182 it does imply that there w i l l . be more control and this will be in the hands of fewer people. The vagueness of the concept is a major point in its survival as a strategy. Sacrifice The actions show that there does not seem to be an inability to pay except for payment to be made to named sectors of the community deemed unproductive. The concept of productivity remains ambiguous while the rhetor continues to exhort that we can no longer live expecting the largess of the past. Yet the largess continues for business executives and visitors who will broadcast the visions of Expo 86; and $1 million can be found for Steve Fonyo's run; and roads can be paved; and subsidies can be given to already wealthy industries and nations; and the poor and unemployed must line up at the food banks. The issue of food banks shows the political ideology and the priorities of the present government. It is playing upon the moral obligations of the voluntary sectors of society, the churches and women's groups associated with the welfare of the poor. It is further evidence of the present political party distancing itself from, or disclaiming responsibility for, the welfare state. These conflicting images, portrayed in the media, cause confusion, and are allowed to be interpreted by the individuals from their experience. The strategy becomes one of unifying the political cause because of the diversity of the sense-making by receivers. 183 The portraying of a vision of sacrifice for the people, though hinted at as a process of evolution in a declining economic scene, came for many as a sudden, catastrophic mortification. Downsizing in the public and civil service, downsizing for health and day-care workers, access to major building projects by non-unionized labour, thereby downsizing incomes and potential incomes of the workers, meant for many persons a pink slip operational upon receipt. But the cost of living has not lessened while incomes for many are held static, lessened, or do not exist. The effect of cuts in these areas is to block avenues of mobility for workers and their children and to block opportunities for education as a lifelong pursuit. The cuts cause frustration of people's ability to work, to earn, and to learn. The rhetoric, however, implies that this is not the real sacrifice we will be called upon to make. In order to achieve the society envisioned by the political rhetors, British Columbians are told our sacrifices will be that we must work hard, that we must be positive, that we must pull together, that we must work hard spiritually to maintain moral values, and we must volunteer our time and energy to improve social welfare. Volunteerism in this sense being directed at, and synonymous with, women's place and women's work, and a "nostalgic" perception of women's position in society. British Columbia's society is to be brought into a new progressive form, one befitting the technological age. 184 Redemption Redemption, in the technological age, according to our political rhetors, is to be found by identifying with the goals of business, in the development, growth, and efficiency of free enterprise; the protection of private industry (i.e., property). Redemption can only be achieved through the elimination of strong opposition to the major private interests of business and those interests are, namely: profit and power. A consequence of the actions of downsizing of public services is to decrease the strength of groups most likely to oppose the increase of uncurbed profit and power on the part of business, business which is, in the eyes of opposition groups, the creation and promotion of a strong, centralized, neo-feudal business oriented hierarchy. This decrease of strength occurs because communication by the groups has mainly been through government supported channels and these are no longer available to them. Thus we have blaming of the victim and a distancing from the liberal belief in equality of opportunity and the socialist commitment to equality of condition. These beliefs are most strongly held by workers in the public service, and it is through the education system most particularly that the counter ideology of justice, fairness and equality can be proclaimed and discharged. Therefore it is right strategy that these groups be the scapegoats. Government rhetoric informs that we are moving into high-tech industrialization and our wage structure and wage expectation is not competetive 185 with Japan and other international competition. The rhetorical emphasis on high wage labour, labour unrest, and poor international competitive standing because of this, is a strategy for creating conditions for compliance (maybe we have asked for too much), and division (because we know some people will work for minium 'cause that's a lot where "they" come from). It is a means for creating a desired end; a compliant, cheap labour force. Prolonged and debilitating unemployment for young people, reduction in social services and employment for women, the inability of older men and women to re-enter the workforce and the deflection of blame onto unions and their members saps the energy and will of the people, diverts their attention from other than present daily survival tasks. The strategy and action of eliminating communication channels, the ineffectivenes or non-support of the media, isolates and weakens opposition, therefore, it is a right strategy. As there is no political opposition, in terms of an effective political party, it is evident that it is the people who are being brought to public trial and victimage. The loss of jobs and dignity is the public trial and victimage of the people. In the present depressed economic state employment of any kind in new industries that are not unionized will be seen as a god-send to desperate people. The present desperation and anxiety, the restraint which is being experienced by many persons, the loss of control and the loss of simple human pleasures and happiness, is a prelude to the instigation of a cheap labour force for whatever future industries are attracted to our shores. 186 Salvation The connotation and the images of the words used to esteem the valued vision of the future are words which have crisp efficient sounds and attractive images associated with them. High is not an idle connotation for the new technology any more than the ironic sobriquets technocrat and technopeasant. The hyperbolic use of words with longer softer vowel sounds invite importance, a vision of smooth order. These are the words of development, growth, investment, entrepreneur, positive and together. The use of metonomy in words such as downsizing, cut-back managment, trimming the fat, wage restraint invests these words with personification, and along with their harsher sounds, are designed to stir the emotions. The connotations become, in effect, oxymoronic, that is, a cruel kindness in order that we may together overcome the abusers of the system in our society who have caused the need for wage restraint. These words are the substitutive means for penance, expiation and compensation. Salvation, for us, according to the political rhetors, is the establishing of a new order of equilibrium. British Columbia is to be a small scale vision brought to fruition for all to see; a new societal order. British Columbia is to be seen at Expo 86 as a locus of orderly progress and advancement where technological progress and spiritual resurgence happen together, thus displaying a new life of balance and stability. But salvation is not achieved until a society is united from divisive influence. That divisive influence is within us: it is those who would oppose this vision. Thus, the epideictic rhetorical appeal continues, we must join together, with a positive attitude, with the business vision and defeat 187 those whose actions weaken this effort. The reality of this vision does not constitute the best elements of all human civilizations harnessed together to ensure the best and the highest possible standard of living, both material and moral, as well as spiritual for all members of society. Its special source of strength is not its ability to mix with others and to extract the best elements from them so as to produce a global composition, rather its reality is to polarize the community. The reality will be a group free to enjoy the fruits of exploitation of resources both material and human. The other group will be 'bound' to provide those very fruits and resources because they will be denied access to opportunity and therefore mobility unless they are seen as exceptional. And if they are exceptional and allowed access to that which is seen as better, and their material desires are gratified through promotion and acquisition of material benefit, then they in effect are negated and isolated, for rarely can they return whence they came, even the organic intellectual. Thus we begin anew the creation of another level in the hierarchial structure based not upon unity but upon the individual seeking of perfection and material gain. This may be viewed as a form of irridentism for we can now create the following scenario. First, is loyalty to the corporation. Second, the nation and the nation-state should now coincide with the beliefs of the business enterprise of multi-national companies. Third, this form of nation-state building lays claim to workers, in any country, as infinite resources, as well as to the country's finite resources. Fourth, the empire thus created imposes itself on these countries and 188 may hold them to ransom by threats to their economic well-being. This may entail blockade through censorship of ideas and the possibility of bankruptcy. If exploitation is not allowed to these powerful multi-national companies, who are able to move to a more favourable economic climate if it is deemed necessary, they may successfully impose such threatening trade restrictions as to reduce the country's sovereignty. The object of desire is not the country itself, because it can be seen as a financial burden, but the low salaried human resources. In this way the country co-opted and the multinational companies are insulated from external influences that could threaten the status quo that has been created. In its simplest terms this is hegemonic. It is fundamentally a process of irridentism and education carried on through various institutions of civil society in order to make normative, inevitable, even natural the ruling ideas of the ruling class. A Vision of Unity To summarize the rhetorical features used as a unification device so far: The vision has truth; it has elements of idealism and realism; dignity becomes a synecdoche; it is considered to be an attribute of all people, if they will but avail themselves of it, by right thinking and right living. But this exalted attitude has an ominous twist whereby the business vision is elevated above all other visions by its innate endowments. Business vision is an oblique synecdoche that suggests power, wealth, success. Other aspects of the social order, particularly the unions and their affiliates, the unemployed, the unemployable, the 189 poor, are implied as innately inferior, helpless; they do not possess right thinking or right living and are a drain upon the very system that sustains them. The projection device, is the curative process that comes with the ability to hand over one's failings to a scapegoat, thereby getting purification by dissociation. This is especially medicinal, since the sense of frustration leads to a self questioning. This device is, furthermore, given a semblance of reason because the individuals properly realize that they alone are not responsible for their condition. There are inimical factors in the scene itself. The person wants to have them placed preferably in a way that will require a minium change in the waj rs of thinking to which they are accustomed. This is especially appealing to the middle class who are encouraged to think that they can conduct their business without any basic change once the opposition to their progress and enterprise are eliminated. Symbolic rebirth is another aspect of the two features already noted. The projective device of the scapegoat, coupled with the doctrine of business and technological superiority provides its followers with a positive view of life. They can again get the feel of moving forward, towards a goal, a promissory feature of which the rhetors make much. The commercial use, that there is something to sell, is a constant theme - and that it is but a question of time until we are sold and so is it (i.e., financial backers for the vision). This furthers the non-economic interpretation of economic ills. As such this theme is repeatedly served with maxium efficiency to deflect the attention from the economic factors involved in the conflict; hence 190 by attacking those who expect too much while producing too little, it can stimulate a movement that leaves business finance in control. The psychological ingredient played upon here is that if the Province is in economic disarray you cannot derive dignity from economic stability. Dignity must come first and if you possess it, and implement it, from it may follow its economic counterpart. There is much to be said for this line of reasoning, as far as it goes. A people in disarray, suffering under economic frustration, with the defeat of their mentors - the unions and the educational establishments, their social services, with the very midrib of their integrative efforts, their means of communication, in a state of dispersal, leaves people with little other than some spiritual basis to which they can refer for their dignity. Furthermore, there is the desire for unity, a desire to discuss and end the conflict which is becoming a class conflict, which on the basis of conflicting interests, discussion cannot satisfy. The yearning for unity can be so great that the people will be willing to meet the political rhetor halfway if unity can be given to them by fiat, regardless of the facts. People so dislike the idea of internal division that, where there is a real internal division, their dislike can easily be turned against the person or group who would name it, let alone proposing to act upon it. The people's resentment against internal division itself, is turned against the diagnostician who states it as fact. Thus the strategic sophistry, the vagueness of the ideas and the images, is a major point in its favour. 191 So, against the disunity of the opposing voices, the political rhetor gives a contrary purifying voice. This is to be the inner voice made uniform throughout the people; an identification with each other. Criticism and Interference Criticism It is now that the step of criticism is advanced. Not criticism in the 'parliamentary' sense of doubt, the harkening to the opposition and attempting to create a policy in the light of counter-policies; but the unified kind of criticism that seeks for conscious ways of making one's position more effective. This is the kind of criticism in which there is an adept, spontaneous turning to a scapegoat mechanism. There are diatribes against the objectivity of the opposition who point to obvious social ills caused by the political agenda. This objectivity is called interference-criticism. What is wanted is the kind of criticism that is a pure and simple coefficient of power, enabling the political rhetor to go most effectively in the direction chosen. Having decided that we require certainty, and simple certainty, probably as does the rhetor himself, it seems that the fixity of the platform is more important for propagandistic purposes than any revision of the slogans. Through the use of these rhetorical slogans the politician projects a new way of life. He is symbolically and literally changing the ancestry of the reform liberal welfare tradition to the declared superior ancestry and traditions of business and technology. Relations between employer and employee must be on the personal basis of leader and follower in order to maintain commercial 192 hegemony. This is a counter-weight against the hegemony of the employee and the unemployed, and a realization of this group's hegemony must not occur in thought or deed. The political rhetoric is frequently filled with provocative remarks. Anyone who is provoked to answer these provocative remarks identifies themself as a target to be assessed and neutralized. As each group is, in effect, dismembered, the next potential or persistent opposition becomes the object of a strategy that will bring unity to the government position by the diversity that afflicts the opposition under political duress. The identification, so far, weighs perceptibly in favour of the image, the security, that the political rhetoric projects. A case in point at present is the Vancouver School Board trustees being fired and replaced by a government appointee, not an independent adjudicator. The media have given this event coverage that shows the internal political conflict among the board members. Emphasis has been placed upon an interpretation that the board saw itself as being able to bring down the present government and this has been judged an improper and unethical use of their mandate. There has been silence about the ethics of the government's action and the credentials of the government appointee, thus the real economic facts are lost in the political rhetoric. As there is virtually no interest being displayed by the public, or if it is, then the media does not make it headlines, a conclusion can be drawn that the citizens believe the government policy is correct and some board members are overstepping their mandate. As opposition they are efficiently neutered by this 193 power strategy. Of course it might be that people are just not sufficiently interested enough to fight when the messages as to whose truth to accept requires a lot of work on their part and thus it becomes a wait and see situation. A doubtful routine given the probable outcomes. The people whose children are most likely to be affected in this situation are those whose voice has no power because of its source, and these people are single parents, women, the children themselves, and the poorer classes. Parents from middle and upper classes are often of the converted who live in districts where just the appearance of the buildings and playgrounds show discrimination, even in terms of better maintenance. This source has power, has always had power, and recognizes the hegemony of education and knowledge. They also know they have alternatives, something denied to less affluent or poor people. Another case of interest, both in terms of strategy and association, is that of the allocation of doctor's billing numbers. It will be interesting to see if the established practitioners, the executives within the profession, will accept the logic of the political argument, will see their sinecure threatened by an excess of young doctors competing for a slice of "their" action. This is the locking of big horns, but the argument of the rhetor is most persuasive and does possess truth. A Trinity of sorts! 194 Thus the efficiency of the premier is to be the efficiency of one voice. One voice implemented throughout an organization that allows no other, vision. The trinity of government which he offers is: His popularity; a force; (i.e., dedicated party followers who perform and implement the unwelcome and unpleasant tactics and tasks, to back the popularity), and popularity and force maintained together long enough to become backed b}' a tradition. It is maintained that the premier has the organization and the tradition and, even if he is not popular, even if his is not the only voice, it is his voice which is the only effective voice, as other voices become either less distinct or silent. CHAPTER VI CONCLUSIONS, R E F L E C T I O N S , A N D R H E T O R I C A L ISSUES Alice I don't know what you mean by "glory"? Humpty Dumpty Of course you don't— till I tell you. I meant— 'there's a nice knock-down argument for you!' Alice But "glory" doesn't mean 'a nice knock-down argument'. Humpty Dumpty When I use a word, it means just what. I choose it to mean-neither more nor less. Alice The question is whether you can make words mean so many different things Humpty Dumpty The question is which is to be master— that's all. They've a temper, some of them— particularly verbs: they're the proudest-adjectives you can do anything with, but not verbs. However, I can manage the whole lot of them. Impenetrability! that's what I say. Alice Would you please tell me what it means? Humpty Dumpty Now you are talking like a reasonable child. I meant by impenetrability that we've had enough of that subject, it will be just as well if you'd mention what you mean to do next, as I suppose you don't mean to stop here all of the rest of your life. Alice That's a great deal to make one word mean. Humpty Dumpty When I make a word do a lot of work like that, I always pay extra. Alice Oh. Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll, 1872. 196 Conclusions An analysis of the rhetoric and actions of the present political representatives indicates that a goal of unopposed control and powerless dissent is deemed necessary in order to realize their vision of British Columbia's future society. The dramatistic sequence in which the political rhetoric has been analysed is essentially a humanistic theory (humans act, things move) less deterministic than behaviourism, but more constrained than traditional humanism by virtue of the terms used. It is dialectical because it would be impossible to define and analyse without opposites. It is a paradox of substance for to consider an act in terms of its motives is to see it in terms of what it is not. Substance denotes a thing by its support, something external and extrinsic rather than something internal and intrinsic. The concept of substance, the one thing that must not differ from itself if definition is to be defined, is endowed with what Burke calls an unresolvable ambiguity. In an era dominated by positivism, the operational definition, and an ideal of scientific precision, Burke chose his dramatist terms precisely for their dialectical ability to reveal the strategic points at which ambiguities arise. And against positivism he proposed ambiguity as a resource. This maxim is well heeded in political discourse. In the hegemony of custom the productive order is mainly regulated by unquestioned tests of property. If there is a slave function in a culture, the class that so functions does not know itself as such. A true slave morality is implicitly obeyed - and while such morality is intact, the slave does not consider 197 his obedience as slavery, any more than a child normally considers obedience to its parents slavery. Before such obedience can be explicitly considered a state of slavery a perspective of incongruity must arise. This incongruity is not yet part of the collective consciousness but slaves are being groomed. Implicit in the rhetoric is that if one chooses reform liberal traditions, the welfare state, this choice logically eliminates the hegemony of propertj' and the market principle. But it is logical to attempt to erect a stable economy atop classical liberal and fascist forms of ideology. And this ideology is antithetical to an egalitarian view of education and of society. The reform liberal tradition in a social democracj' is a logical ideology on which to erect an educational system that aspires to educate all the people equally. The ideology of classical liberalism and fascism views education as hegemonic and would, therefore, deny equal access to knowledge of equal worth. Examination of political rhetoric from this analytic perspective is to illustrate a situation that we understand in a general way, but do not always note in the particular, to show how thoroughly the merest commonplaces, the distinction between common sense and good sense (Gramsci, 1932/1980) of language serve to confuse the criticism of capitalist methods. Propaganda, capitalist and religious propaganda, is so ingrained in our speech that it is as natural as breathing. Thus a conclusion concerning hegemony in adult education in North America today is that it is centered in the efforts of our economic mercenaries (advertising, publishing, and sales organizations) to create commodities that sell, 198 commodities often consumed under expensive conditions, by appeals to the worker picturing the qualities of life to be obtained by education. A commercially stimulated desire is gratified for the benefit of the educational industry. There is evidence to suggest that the priests of educational institutions and the media educate the dispossessed to feel that their only hope of repossession is in pledging allegiance to the hierarchy that dispossessed them (Gramsci, 1980; Caldicott, 1978; Burke, 1969; Chomsky, 1968; Perelman, 1963, 1969). The intellegentsia are the tools in the manufacture of consent and the implementing of obedience. A political hierarchy combined with hegemonic rhetorical propaganda can generate the stamina to dominate history over long durations as the cases of Thomism and capitalism amply illustrate. The process of stealing back and forth unifying symbols such as rights is central to the rhetoric of ambiguity: of orientation, disorientation, and reorientation. To analyse the discourse or to deconstruct it, is to show how it undermines the philosophy and ideology it asserts. This is true for much of educational rhetoric and would be true for Social Credit if the label means Conservatism. It is maintained that this government is not practising the tradition of conservatism as has been outlined and that the political leaders are well aware of this shift in their ideological platform. It is there for all to see. The obstacle is that the receiver must have knowledge of political ideologies and their source. Most people are thought to be politically naive - yet nowhere is it mandatory in our educational S3'stem that we must take courses in the history of politics. But politics are a fundamental cornerstone of society and societal 199 interaction. It is logical to consider its exclusion as a mandatory course in our early education and as part of lifelong education as an hegemonic process. This hegemonic process is a way of gaining "free" assent to a dominating and repressive political structure without requiring recourse to violence. Hegemonic rule is the mark of the stable, mature society whose ideological apparatus is so set in place, so well buried, so unexamined a basis of our judgement that it is taken for truth and we are obedient slaves to those who possess an understanding of the power of words and this knowledge. It is maintained that the voting patterns of this country are evidence of a political ignorance maintained through the hegemonj' of the educational system, not only naivety, and education assents to this. The means to achieve the goal of unopposed control centres on the dismantling, wherever possible, of institutions or structures which might limit the executive power of a dominating provincial Cabinet or the market power of commercial sector employers. The force of the attack is directed primarily, but not exclusively, to collective bargaining mechanisms, administrative tribunals, and to a neutering of the public service. With the systematic enacting of these means it is hard to avoid the interpretation that there is some element of vindictiveness, a vendetta underlying the overall program. This leads to the spectre of a particular mind-set in action. A distorted perception of the distinction between private and public sector roles as we have come to understand them. This, perhaps, reflects a personal desire for a simpler functioning world while ignoring a mind which has been able 200 to orchestrate such a complex strategy of move and counter-move: an evidence of understanding, very clearly, the stategies and moves available to the opposition, and the institution of counter measures, already in place, should these strategies be implemented. This strategy has such complex motives that they cannot be deduced or reduced, but must be left as they are, the complete anticipation being the work of the reader. However, it is obvious from analysis of the rhetoric and the motives that there are very clear and definite goals which can only be reached by confusing the opposing forces and by refusing them a material scapegoat. If a figure is identified as a potential rallying figure, then moves are instituted that neutralize that figure, even if it is a member of their own part}': a figure about whom the opposing forces are able-to-point-to as a scapegoat for purposes of their unification in opposition (An example of this point would be Mr . Van der Zalm. One might also infer this as a reason for Grace McCarthy's disappearance from the media headlines). The epideictic rhetoric classifies activities as either productive (useful) or unproductive (wasteful) according to whether or not they are the object of a market transaction. This has an ironic twist in a province whose prospects are founded upon natural and human resources. Those who turn around material goods in order to make profit are deemed to be creating wealth. Those who enhance life through reforestation, wildlife preservation, or water conservation, are some aspects which are seen as merely redistributing wealth. 201 Also evident is that the preserving of a basic education for al l is not part of the agenda. Those engaged in furthering any of these activities are classified as wasteful claimants on a wealth-producing sector of which they form no part. Private industry will educate those it chooses to educate and with an education appropriate to the function those persons are to perform. Further, increased funding of the private-school sector creates an hegemony of knowledge for those who are already heirs to positions of dominance and excludes those whose ancestry is of the dominated. The education offered in overcrowded classrooms by overworked educators cannot match the offerings of small class size and the attendant discipline and attention of private educational establishments which are now attractive to educators and parents alike. A sequel also expected of private education is membership into a priveleged sector of society. Thus there is to be an increasing absence of equity, egalitarianism, and social democracy in education. What is argued is that there is no genuine fiscal crisis, that the rhetoric of restraint is but expressions of ideology and priorities rather than genuine reductions in expenditures. Some might argue that the substance is much the same under either set of symbols: those of reform liberalism or the present Social Credit government. However, there is an important shift in ideology. This is not the ideology of conservatism which this government claims as its philosophical affiliation. Conservatism has always accepted institutions that are shown to be the will of the people even if it favours the principles of private property. This government's actions show, their thought to be based upon classical liberalism with elements of fascism as a means to obtain classical liberal 202 traditions. Citizens are told that a political leader knows best what is needed and he need not be responsive to uninformed opinions. If this is accepted it may well reduce the commitment of a population to the mechanisms that once maintained such forms of democracy as were in effect. An examination of one example of the connotative and substitutive, rather than the dennotative rhetorical use of words as symbolic action, suggests why the citizens have not collectively prevented or ameliorated some of the present undemocratic developments prior to their enactment. Consider the word restraint. It is maintained that, in the minds of the audience, it has little to do with fiscal measures, and the rhetor uses this to advantage. Restraint, in its connative sense, can evoke images of discipline and the curbing of excesses. Or it can mean a more strict sexual code; it can expect of women that they return to traditional motherly and wifely roles, with men being the unchallenged heads of households and "breadwinners." It can mean obedience by children to adults, by workers to employers, by students to teachers, by graduate students to faculty, by faculty to the university organization. In short a more authoritarian society. It can mean the establishment of rules of everyday behaviour, rules that all are expected to observe so that everyone knows what to expect and how to behave. It evokes an image of a comfortable society, complacent perhaps, but one in which there are no uncomfortable feelings of conflict. Everyone has a place and everyone is in their place: it is the status quo with which most are comfortable. And while restraint can mean obedience, it can also evoke images of courage, 203 will-power, bravely taking control of one's life, accepting the responsibilities of one's successes, or the accepting of responsibility for one's failures. The accepting of one's medicine! The yoking of wages with restraint is further evidence of a strategic symbolic association of words designed to influence people at an emotional level. If it does mean these things, and none have to do with fiscal restraint and budgets, then it has to do with the accepting of an end to the sense of anomie. A n anomie brought about by an overdose of addictive medicine, that of personal freedom and its consequences: a permissive society of uncontrolled individuals with, perhaps, immoral excesses. It is maintained that this has produced a strong undercurrent of guilt. Guilt at odds with the Protestant work ethic. Guilt with affluence too easily achieved and the personal costs of such affluence and permissiveness. This has made ripe for the picking, by strategic rhetorical use of words with connotations of over-indulgence, those who perceive themselves as guilty and who would do penance and project penance upon others. Only those with property and power are to be individuals, the masses cannot be individuals or possess power. Even the word 'masses' evokes an image of something large and i l l defined requiring to be directed or controlled for its own and other's benefit. And as the masses are regarded as feminine, throughout our history, they do not require power, they can be content to bask in the reflection of a strong leader, to feed on second-hand scraps of approbation from the banquet table. Restraint is one of the words which catches this sentiment. It leads to puritanism rediscovered: It .204 is symbolic rebirth. Moreover, the people act upon this sentiment at a time when it can best serve the economic interests of government strategy and groups in private industry. And what of the tradesunions and the union worker? The collapse of solidarity can be seen as evidence that the union workers and their leaders see truth in the vision: that they accept the argument that wages are too high and therefore, our products are not competitively priced on world markets. The proposal that unions be consulted and that workers not take a disproportionate share of the economic burden, for what is now a fait accompli, the necessity of social change in the work place and society due to technology, is to accept the proposed vision: the market principle. There is an acceptance by the workers in the vision that there is such a thing as "free-enterprise," that Canada is "losing out" not because we have become a periphery to other industrial, technological powers, but because we have a labour force which insists upon wages that are termed excessive in today's world markets for the buying and selling of goods at a profitable margin, a margin which, it seems, should remain as high as if good times were still with us. Thus there is a belief in a non-economic interpretation of an economic phenomena. Nowhere is raised the thought that our wages and standard of living are important human rights struggled for, often at great sacrifice, over the centuries, and that the wages and conditions of the workers in other countries may be what is wrong in terms of the human not the market principle. The rhetorical question thus becomes: Who is to benefit if we return to Hard Times? 205 There is, then, a -willingness to undergo restraint because the priorities are unrecognized or are not translated into the impact they will have on daily life. This is achieved by the use of ambiguity and dissemblance, a strategy in which the ideology is accepted but not understood. The rhetorical dramatist use of a scapegoat mechanism is to heighten the sense of urgency by phrasing cutbacks in employment as restraining abuses, reduction in soft sinecures, reductions in tenure, and (mythical) reductions in costs that come out of taxes. Cleverly concealed within the acceptance of the rhetorical strategy and action, and discovered too late, is that the reductions are not only of employees, they are also in the services those employees perform. And those services are the means by which a civilized society educates its citizens, ensures access to the legal system, provides health care to citizens, aids families in distress, provides help for child and elder abuse and wife battering, provides education within the correctional institutions and assists in preventing many social evils which when unattended lead to far more costly social expenditures and a much less humane society. From a rhetorical point of view, Mr . Bennett has persuasively evoked a vision of a new society and identified it with business and technology. His discourse has isolated a concrete, visible scapegoat: ' people. People, who are to be the sacrifice on the alter of science and market technology as people were sacrificed for industrial technology. Ironically, the people are still 'minders' of a machinery which has made them obsolete, but this machinery has a different, silent accompaniment to the sounds of chaos. Whether the British Columbian 206 reality of Mr . Bennett will be able to develop itself in the economic and political arenas remains to be seen. If his discourse fails to fulfdl ordinary axiological expectations, if he is unable to translate his rhetorical vision into a sustained reality then a crisis will occur. Thus it is concluded that a revolutionary change in ideology and action, even by a political party in power, requires a scapegoat and must preclude one from the opposition. What will be important is whether the rhetoric and actions of the government of British Columbia will create an image of strength perceived as corrupt in imagination, in social democratic values, and possibly malignant. According to Sennett (1980), the crucial test of a system of public power is whether or not the figures of public authority are explicit about themselves, and about their promises, and are clear about what their power means as well as how their subjects should see and judge the authorities in their lives. These are questions that deal with rhetoric, with human rights, and with revolution. The implication is that a revolutionary rhetoric must use a strategy that is grounded in values and authority perceived as legitimate. Rhetoric involves ways of identification that contribute variously to social cohesion, either for the advantage of the community as a whole, or for the advantage of special groups whose interests are a burden on the community. The implications that arise from the points presented is that Mr . Bennett in fact meets the criteria in terms of public sentiment and that his revolution can be seen as an essential part of a larger national and international evolution 207 toward a future societal identity, a sense of world community under the auspices of business technology: a return to classical liberal traditions implemented and held in place by enacting fascist forms of ideology. The British Columbian situation can be seen as a setting for contemporary dialogue between two dialectical forces: The archetype which stresses human wholeness and conservation of the environment, and an archetype which stresses the rights of power, property and select individuals, and would use finite resources to acquire those rights; an attitude that prizes present gain and ignores long term risk to the future populations and the environment. These archetypes may eventually cause a polarization in politics as well as that seen in society: One archetype represented by classical liberal ideology supported by a form of fascism; the other archetype being the cause of a rapproachment or a uniting of the present Liberal and New Democratic Parties. This unity might represent social democracy in a counter ideology such as syndicalism, which could promote the alternate archetype. However, we bear a responsibilty to humanize the archetype that is trying to be realized. Only humans can ensure that it does not come in as a revolting episode. There is always that danger every time an archetype is activated strongly. We must sense the danger of our time and as sentient beings try to modify it, to humanize it. 208 Reflections Life is an unending dialogue; when we enter, it's already going on; we try to get the drift of it; we leave before it's over. (Burke, 1973, p. 121). It has been maintained that there is no evidence of budgetary restraint in the alternate programs proposed, but what is evident is a realignment of priorities which reflect the ideology of the prevailing political perspective. What does this mean for education and for women? One of the delusions peculiar to the present political ideology, labelled conservative, is that the past can be manipulated to suit immediate and near future .purposes. Adopting an eclectic approach to history, tradition, and culture, appropriating whatever is needed in order to piece together a "usable past," has the effect of denying the past's inescapable influence over the present. It deludes us from the reality that none of us enjoys the freedom to create our own identity, Sartre notwithstanding. Except within extremely limited circumstances, we cannot choose what we wish to become, what we wish to remember, or the choice of pain we will suffer. The stealing back and forth of symbols with giddying rapidity has increased people's sense of discontinuity and has allowed political rhetoric to play upon nostalgic themes. Education is as eager as are the politicians to deny that events and indiscriminate use of scientific knowledge in the past few decades haunt us today in our present circumstances. But the political and religious rhetoric would advance them as the good old days. 209 Ordinary women and men live in a world in which the burdens of the past cannot easily be shrugged off by creating new identities or inventing usable pasts. Ordinary women and men are much more obviously and inescapably prisioners of circumstance, circumstances not of their creating, than those who set fashion. These circumstances include the constraints of inherited poverty, parental religion, and ethnic identification, and in many instances the inherited experience of social, racial, or ethnic persecution, the collective discrimination inherited by the poor, and above all, the inheritance of apathy and resignation. Trapped in a past not of their making most people cannot afford the illusion that tradition counts for nought when much of their energy goes into a struggle against it. Only those who have escaped from the ghetto, the small town, or the farm can believe that they no longer carry the weight of a personal and collective history. But this is not true for women. The selectivity of the past in the rhetoric of the politicians, the Pope, the union leaders, and the Electronic Church, would yoke them again in subservient, traditional roles, and permit them an identity gained only in adjunct roles of wife, mother, daughter or sister. Women's increasing awareness of their collective history and their collective strength informs them that they cannot deny, in order to be free, the discrimination present in their history. It has become increasingly important for women to examine their reality from a woman's perspective, to make sense of their world as opposed to the one ascribed to them by men. So far women have been cast as invisible within the educational setting even though in numbers they are a majority. Most male educators continue to 210 regard women as performing the domestic chores of education while they aspire to the administrative positions, rationalizing to themselves that women do not perform these tasks as well as they do. For women the thought that they can be cast back into traditional roles because it is expedient in the present economic times and because men have a nostalgic, selective perception of what a wife or mother means for them, and an unrealistic perception of how women feel about this dependent role, is not to understand women as persons of equal worth with their own unique aspirations. This was evident as a tactic following World War II. Women are aware of this and are unlikely to be willing, or even able to accept this as a solution applied to them today or for the future. It has been evident throughout history that societies which practice and encourage the use of women and female children as chattels, to fill appropriate and timely niches, have unhealthy histories of violence .toward all sentient beings. We must insist that we are not returned, from whence we came, to the detriment of all our persons. The fiscal policies of present elected political parties in North America with the explicit wish for private enterprise to extricate the countries from enormous deficit leads to the presumption that if there are not enough jobs then there will be a selection process that logically will have the interests of industry as a priority. Gains for worker benefits, obtained in the past through union and government action, will rest upon the goodwill of the employer. This is maintained as possible because of actions already implemented by governments; the disbanding of public services and the right of appeal. The next step is a logical consequence once one has commenced upon this path. 211 It is predicted that education will be a reflection of a polarized society. Those areas of education seen as productive will be promoted and funded. These areas, according to Dr. McGeer (23rd May, 1985), are science and technology. They are spoken of in glowing terms. The clean-cut, the studious, the productive members of the community, the wearers of white hats or three piece suits, the complete family, law abiding, home providing, will be the disciples, the evidence of the followers of the gospel of bountiful productivity. Educational administrators will bow to the prevailing ideology. It is a matter of survival in which many dissociate from their functional moral principles. Those who will achieve positions of importance will be the aye sayers; they are those among us who agree with, and flatter and are flattered by, authority more powerful than they; an authority that has purposefully chosen them because they will perform the tasks asked of them, an unspoken understanding of the character traits of each other, character traits that require hegemony in order to be better. They are often persons who "step-on" others in order to "step-up," rationalizing to themselves, and those who will listen, that this is how the system works, so, why fight it? A pretence that the system is wrong, but ready to serve, in any way, for personal gain, an action which condones, perpetuates and strengthens this system. Disregarded are the egalitarian liberal philosophies of education, a disregard that destroys the unity of folk and thus their aspirations to share in a good life. It is predicted that adult education and proponents of an egalitarian sharing of knowledge will be given low priority, they will not be seen as furthering the aspirations of humankind in any visible productive way. With the 212 decline of Marxism because of unfulfilled prophec3' and the emergence of totalitarianism as its sequelae, its new thought, it becomes more important that feminist thought be heard and understood, not as radical women's ravings, but as a philosophy and action which demands an end to the escalating violence in our lives. The proposed fiscal policies of present political parties in North America and their wish for private enterprise to extricate the countries from enormous financial deficits leads to these employers being able to control and dictate the selection process of who will work and at what salary. The cost to families in terms of financial income and mental health will be born mostly by women. Their expected roles of caring for the elderly in their homes because of the rising health care costs and the privatizing of these institutions will lead in many instances to the breakdown of their own families. It will increase women's dependence upon a system and a society that has little respect for them as creators of wealth or as persons. They will be again yoked to the millstone of everlasting poverty and dependence, wherein the poverty of today is the same as yesterday, and will be so tomorrow. The abused will be women, and in their misery, they to will become abusers. And so, the cycle is perpetuated. Women, sadly, are all too familiar with being helpless observers of rape and plunder and the hopeless watchers of the excitement and power that unanswered abuse can generate in the perpetrators. As an activity abuse becomes more aggressive, more violent, more frequent with each success until, 213 eventually, murder occurs. And then that too becomes more violent and more frequent in order to gratify, but never quite appeasing, the appetite for excitement generated by the misuse of power. This is an allegory to the environment, the poor, and the illiterate. The environment takes up arms against this pillage in its own way but the effects are always felt in either case by the poor of the world. As Lord Thompson of Fleet once observed: If you have enough money even Hell can be comfortable. It is ironic that one of the few pleasures'? left to the poor, soon to be heavily taxed, is the cigarette. One only has to visit a waiting room for unemployed or welfare recipients to view the devouring of cigarettes as a panacea to stress: The cigarette - a symbol which now is synonymous with the "bad guy" in both film and the T V media. As humans are the rapers and plunders of our universe, it is their voices and actions which must be altered in order to approach the good life. It is maintained that consistently throughout history it is the voice and actions of feminists which asks for peace and caring conservation. This is the voice epitomized by the Women of Argentina who have met every Thursday for ten long years to protest the disappearance and murder of their children and to protest against the rulers of the military regime. The reason they could continue to protest was because as women they could be denied, they could be called mad as has been the lot of women throughout histor3' when they have sought to oppose evil. And as we all know, no one need heed the mad. However, these women were not mad, they proved to be the voice exposing an ugly reality hidden behind the rhetoric of the regime in power. The voice of these women and people like them is the voice educators and education must 214 nourish and strive to make stronger, not pay lip-service to, not to denigrate its source as powerless, and then proceed to continue as usual in maintaining the status quo. Unless adult education adheres to and practices its espoused egalitarian and humane philosophies, and joins with women in a feminist stance, it is predicted that a new man on horseback will emerge, and he will be from the ranks of the poor, not of the millionaire's club. Someone, who through unifying tactics will appear to bring order out of chaos. Someone, it is predicted, who must identify a scapegoat from among the ranks of those not in power in order divide those in power. A scapegoat that those in power also can point-to as a projection mechanism. This scapegoat will be obviously different, wear a different dress, practice a different religion, live as in a ghetto, be seen to handle finance, a group who possess the attributes of the Jews but who are not Jews, a group who will be the new Jews. It is maintained that if this prediction is to be prevented, then adult education must unite with viable movements such as the Women's Movement. But this unity must not be attained on a deceptive basis, not by emotional trickeries that shift our criticism from the accurate locus of our troubles. If unity is obtained by deception it is no unity at all. For, even if we are to be among those who happen to be "Aryan" we will solve no problems, even for ourselves, by such solutions, since the factors pressing toward calamity remain. As has been repeatedly observed, no one wins the war. War as a concept is conflict that is aimed at attaining, on both sides, some end or other. We 215 mislead ourselves with a concept that is based on conflict, a concept which suggests there are winners and losers. The attaining of this concept, of this ending, will elude us, but it will devour us. The accumulated ills of a repressive order accelerate the movement toward confusion and resentment. For here are the resentments that go with the frustration of people's abilitj' to work, to earn, and to learn. At this time industrial and financial monoplists and the dominant political thought wish for the momentary peace of one voice, amplified by co-opted social organizations, with the opposition given the quietus. Political leaders, backed by those who would protect their authority against the necessary demands of the people, are inviting chaos. Those who implement the policies that are seen as unjust, to the point of being viewed as eugenicist, will be cast as "gangsters" by workers. And if these gangsters are the leaders' insurance against the workers, who are the insurance against the gangsters? It is maintained that this insurance can occur if education unites with feminist aspirations and challenges the violence in our society with a philosophical order which esteems all sentient beings. For All things shall hint or thunder to man the laws of right and wrong. (Emerson, Nature). The words themselves possess a spirit, a power, an elation of their own, but the words of our rhetors have become powerful portrayals of desired and undesired images in our society, words of symbolic action, words, which upon closer investigation, can be seen to have no clothes. If our character is built of our responses, positive or negative, to the thou-shalt-nots of morality, if we approach life from the standpoint of our personalities, will not all 216 experience reflect the genius of this negativity? Laws are essentially negative; mine equals not thine; insofar as property is not protected by the thou-shalt-nots of either moral or civil law, it is not protected at all. The negative principle in ethics or morals is often hidden behind a realm of quasi-positives. The day may be filled with a constant succession of positive acts. Yet they are ultimately guided or regulated by postcriptive principles, involving acquiescence to a higher order. To look at secular ambitions, with the countless ways of justifying oneself, is to see such efforts for what they are, countless ways of responding to the negativity so basic to man as moral agent. It is maintained that adult education within a university setting, in spite of rhetoric to the contrary, does not practice the philosophies it would have the students believe are the humane philosophies which are the basis of adult educational practice. Students recognize the contradictory actions to which they are subjected as actions of a bellwether, maintaining the obedience of the flock, an acquiescence to a higher order, be they Right or Left, whose goal is the strengthening of the dominant group's hegemonic repository of knowledge. If adult education moves to align itself with movements which adhere to their philosophies, to the aspirations of the good life for all, despite opposition, in spite of the attractiveness of being with the winner, only then will we not have to say: Behold a pale horse, a pale rider! 217 Rhetorical Issues for Contemplation An overture for an epilogue. This work has indicated ways in which adult educators might, examine their own philosophies and ideologies. By an analysis of the rhetoric and the actions of educators practising in the fields of adult education we can be aware of the contradictions in our functioning in society and of society's views of adult education. It is maintained that a political educational program is key to the educating of the educators. Educators who may be less perceptive of the pragmatic political realities of a world that many students experience. This can be due, in part, to the terministic screens acquired by educators with extensive immersion in academe. It is recommended that adult educators develop and implement the role of detail workers. That persons from all walks of life be encouraged to contribute knowledge and experience to the field of adult education. For from the ranks of consumers may come a person who can combine the talents of practical reason and experience in the solution of theoretical problems. It is maintained that it is vital to look at the wider perspective to derive a focus so that detail work is not performed blindly or mindlessly with possible counter productive or even destructive consequences. It is argued that it is essential that we examine past research and actions, examine the history of adult education, examine what had been recommended be implemented to see if such exploration will reveal what influences prevail in our educational activities. This should identify what has been done, what remains to be done, and what direction this might take. It is 218 maintained that we must critically analyze the rhetorical visions of our projected future that are placed before us by clever, strategic media use, both by the doomsayers and the soothsayers. Political examples that we could examine as a means to understand ourselves might be to draw analogies from our histories which enable us to recognize the strategies and subtleties of discrimination and to see reflected in them present situations; to see the shifts which show how a more equitable form of society developed. This could be done, as an example, by comparing slavery in America with the apartheid practiced in South Africa today and the revolutionary process now being attempted in order to obtain a more equitable living standard for the African citizens. What was successful and why? What remained fundamentally unchanged, but gives an appearance of fairness and equity? It has been argued that adult educators must evaluate, critically - not trippingly from the tongue - the role of adult education and its ability to practice its (rhetorical) philosophy within traditional institutional settings. If we are unable or unwilling to be faithful in our practice in such settings can we then, morally, call ourselves adult educators, other than in the sense that it is adults whom we teach? From this perspective some cogent questions can be asked of our philosophical and ideological practice. • Should adult education ever consider an alliance with traditional institutions if it must become a bellwether in such settings? • What attitude should adult education and adult educators take towards post-basic education? 219 • Should a distinction be retained between professional education (i.e., the training and skills required for jobs, both manual and non-manual), and education for personal enrichment? Does it Matter? • Is it justifiable policy to continue to participate in hegemonic forms of education? To set ourselves up as arbiters of who and what will be the acceptable norm passed on to the community as expert; norms which we accept, or make, in terms of so called objective performance, subjectively ignoring our lack of objectivity in the choices we make. • What is the role of research in adult education within, and funded by, traditional institutions? What of the potential conflict of ideologies and interests? • Is it possible for teaching and research functions to be combined in one person unless that is what the person wishes? Is it deleterious to each area, to the students, and to the researcher? Is this a satisfactory and seemingly only means of gaining tenure? At its core is it not competitively destructive with an emphasis on publication and little regard for quality? Does it not denigrate those who would be educators by nature and by preference? Does it not bind those who would be researchers by preference? • Is not the competence and conclusions of much of the research open to searing criticism? Is there not a continual bickering over the merits and demerits of each others methodologies, as if they are taboo totems, to the detriment of research traditions generally? Is there not a bizarre whoring after 220 the scientific method in a time when scientists are seeking alternative means with a much wider global perspective for their research undertakings because much of the scientific methodology used in the past is inadequate to explain reality. • What of the obsession with defining adult education? Is it not logical, and allied with its philosophy, to see it in terms of an interdisciplinary field of enquiry? Should we not accept to live with a larger perspective? • How long must it take us to recognize that we must teach that a forest fire in British Columbia or a drought in the prairies has global as well as local implications: that the increasing costs of our mechanical equipment to developing nations and the reduced prices for their produce or commodities has global economic implications for them and for us. • Is it of benefit, other than to academics, to define and tie down, put parameters around, adult education? If it is, why, for what purpose, and without prevarication please. • What is the ideology implicit in the curriculum we choose? Who chooses? • What of the strange imbalance in time spent upon subjects? Is it sufficient to say this is how the university wants it, or is it that it is easier to know who is doing what, when, and for what salary? An accountability in 221 financial and fiscal terms only. Why would a course in skill or training content occupj' the same course hours as a course in our history and philosophy? Might we infer that either we have little history to discuss or that it is unimportant by comparison? This kind of emphasis illuminates the ideological stance and the political priorities or else unadorned stupidity. Many of these issues might profitably be illustrated if we examined the Antigonish Movement from a perspective other than process. In terms of its history and importance we could look at the actors, particularly Fathers Tompkins and Coady. What were the personal philosophies evident in the lives and actions of these men. What of their personal battles with the Janus-like contradictions of the two traditional institutions to which they found themselves, and their aspirations for their parish members, bound. Did the biblical traditions of the church which prospers upon the prosperity of poverty, and the hegemonic and technological traditions of the university which prospers upon obedience to the dominant class, limit the outcomes of this social action? Was this dialectic unresolvable, unapprehended, or unrealized because of myopic vision, or was it concealed? How did the demise of Antigonish influence the lives of these two men? Why was Tompkins punished b3' church authorities? Why was Coady an embittered reclusive man in his later life? What was their evaluation of what happened? 222 • Did anyone ask? What is our evaluation if we analyze what happened from the perspective of these particular personal philosophies, the ideological priorities of the institutions, and the rhetoric that implemented the vision? • What attitudes will adult educators bring towards women in the future? Will we be expected to remain the invisible majority as we have in the past; the domesticated domestics performing a slave function? Will the silent, paternal, intransigence by the keepers of the status quo be maintained until the different sounds of uncharacteristic chaos have to be heard? • Will adult educators be required to foster a theory of culture support. It is necessary for educators to explore and adapt effectively, by educating our own educators and by the co-opting of experts in the field, the roles of media educational modes and their biases. Through new techniques we can now, more than ever before in our history, make learning a pleasurable, leisure activity which is neither mindless nor covert propaganda. Learning which is for the benefit of all, literate or not. Thus it is recommended that adult educators actively pursue and encourage the wealth of expertise in the adult population; to align themselves with movements of like philosophy and action; to seek rational and coherent solutions to these fundamentally political ideological questions which beset us all. These areas are not unconnected. In them are the normative assumptions we bring to our practice. Implicit in their presence is our regard for human beings and our world. Some are not healthy. Does our rhetoric shroud our 223 inabilities or our unwillingness? Do we favour a sinecure rather than the struggle? Does our rhetoric expose or reveal? 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Index 239 agnostic, 40 Agnosticism, 9, 41, 42, 43 ambiguity, 172, 196, 205 classical liberal, 72 Classical liberalism, 71, 72, 197 common sense, 197 common-sense, 36 commonsense, 162 condensation, 154, 172, 173 connotation, 186 connotative, 172, 173, 174, 179, 202 conservatism, 64, 66, 76, 78, 82, 85, 86, 88, 115, 141, 198, 201 constitution, 67 constitutionalism, 67, 83, 103, 115, 130 consubstantiate, 167 consubstantiation, 174 Denotation, 9 displacement, 164 doxa, 17, 18 doxa., 18 enthymeme, 145, 148, 173 epideictic, 146, 147, 186, 200 episteme, 17, 18 ethics, 11 fascism, 130, 132, 137, 197, 201 feminism, 11, 47, 48, 51, 52, 53, 58 folk, 211 good, 12, 17, 18, 19, 20, 22, 23, 32, 33, 36, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 55, 77, 85, 128, 144, 147, 151, 181, 204, 211, 216 good life, 40, 213 good society, 30 ideology, 6, 7, 44, 60, 62, 63, 64, 66, 71, 82, 87, 93, 103, 104, 116, 118, 130, 132, 137, 140, 174, 175, 184, 197, 198, 201, 205, 206, 207, 208 instantiate, 20 instantiates, 19 irredentism, 125, 130 justify, 17, 37, 72, 118 Liberalism, 8, 42, 66, 70, 71, 76, 83, 84, 85, 87, 89, 105, 115, 127, 130, 137, 141, 201 liberation, 53, 54, 55, 57 morals,, 10 Morphogenesis, 13 morphogenis, 150 nation-state, 49, 141 nationalism, 64, 66, 117, 120, 121, 122, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 132, 134, 135, 136, 140 norm, 13 normative, 14, 19, 21, 28, 29 oblique synecdoche, 188 oppression, 21, 23, 48, 51, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57 reform liberal, 72, 197 reform liberalism, 72, 76 rule of law, 67, 96, 126 socialism, 64, 66, 71, 76, 87, 91, 93, 95, 96, 97, 100, 101, 102, 105, 106, 110, 112, 116, 132, 134, 135, 137, 138, 141 strategic ambiguity, 171 substitution, 154 substitutive, 186 syllogism, 10, 165 symbol, 15, 131, 153, 173, 213 synecdoche, 188 Thomism, 16, 198 tropes, 16 


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