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InterpretationA JOURNAL J.OF POLIT ICAL PHILOSOPHYFall 1999

Clark A. Merrill

William Walker

Thomas L. Krannawitter

Volume 27 Number 1

Spelunking in the Unnatu ra l Cave: L eoStrauss's Ambiguous Tribute to Max Weber

Stanley Fish's Miltonic Interpretation ofMartin Luther KingDiscussion

Constitutional Government and JudicialPower: The Political Science ofThe Federalist

Book Reviews

Charles E. Butterworth A Cornucopia of Rousseau Translations:

The Collected Writings of Rousseau, Editedby Roger D. Masters and Christopher KellyRousseau, th e Discourses and other earlyPolitical Writings, and Rousseau the SocialContract and other later Political Writings,edited and translated by Victor Gourevitch

Peter Augus tine Lawler

Ronald J. Pestritto

Nature, History, and the Human IndividualModern Liberty and Its Discontents, byPierre ManentThe Supreme Court and AmericanConstitutionalism, edited by Bradford P.Wilson and Ken Masugi


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InterpretationEditor-in-Chief

Executive EditorGeneral Editors

Consulting Editors

International EditorsEditors

Manuscript EditorSubscriptions

Hilail Gildin, Dept. of Philosophy, Queens CollegeLeonard GreySeth G. Benardete Charles E. ButterworthHilail Gildin Robert Horwitz (d . 1987)Howard B. White (d . 1974)Christopher Bruell Jo seph Cropsey Ernest L. FortinJohn Hallowell (d. 1992) Harry V. JaffaDavid Lowenthal Muhsin Mahdi Harvey C. MansfieldArnaldo Momigliano (d . 1987) Michael Oakeshott

(d . 1990) Ellis Sandoz Leo S trauss (d . 1973)Kenneth W. ThompsonTerence E. Marshall Heinrich MeierWayne Ambler Maurice Auerbach Fred BaumannAmy Bonnette Patrick Coby

Elizabeth C de Baca Eas tman Thomas S. EngemanEdward J. Erler Maureen Feder-Marcus

Pamela K. Jensen Ken Masugi Will MorriseySusan Orr Charles T. Rubin Leslie G. RubinSusan Meld Shell Bradford P. Wilson Martin D. YaffeeMichael P. Zuckert Catherine H. Zuckert

Lucia B. ProchnowSubscription rates per volume (3 issues):

individuals $29libraries and all other institutions $48students (four-year limit) $18

Single copies available.Postage outside U.S.: Canada $4.50 extra;elsewhere $5.40 extra by surface mail (8 weeksor longer) or $11.00 by air.

Payments: in U.S. dollars and payable bya financial institution located within th e U.S.A.(or the U.S. Postal Service).

The Journal Welcomes Manuscripts in Political Philosophy as Well as Thosein Theology, Literature, and Jurisprudence.

contributors should follow The Chicago Manual of Style, 13th ed. or manualsbased on it; double-space their manuscripts, including notes; place references in th etext, in endnotes or follow current journal style in printing references. Words fromlanguages not rooted in Latin should be transliterated to English. To ensureimpartial judgment of their manuscripts, contributors should omit mention of theirother work; put, on th e title page only, their name, any affiliation desired, addresswith postal/zip code in full, E-Mail and telephone. Please send four clear copies,which will not be returned.

Inquiries:

Composition by Eastern CompositionA Division of Bytheway Publishing ServicesBinghamton, N.Y. 13901 U.S.A.Printed by The Sheridan Press,Hanover PA 17331 U.S.A.(Ms.) Joan Walsh, Assistant to th e Editorinterpretation, Queens College, Flushing N Y1 1367-1597, U.S.A. (718)997-5542 Fax (718) 997-5565


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InterpretationA JOURNAL _L OF POLIT ICAL PHILOSOPHYFall 1999 Volume 27 Number 1

Clark A. Merrill

W illiam Walker

Thomas L. Krannawitter

Charles E. Butterworth

Peter Augustine Lawler

Ronald J. Pestritto

Spelunking in th e Unnatural Cave: LeoStrauss's Ambiguous Tribute to Max Weber 3Stanley Fish's Miltonic Interpretation ofMartin Luther King 27DiscussionConstitutional Government and JudicialPower: The Political Science ofThe Federalist 43Book Reviews

A Cornucopia of Rousseau Translations:The Collected Writings ofRousseau, Editedby Roger D. Masters and Christopher KellyRousseau, the Discourses and other earlyPolitical Writings, and Rousseau the SocialContract and other later Political Writings,edited and translated by Victor Gourevitch 71Nature, History, and the Human Indiv idua lModern Liberty and Its Discontents, byP ie rre Manen t 81The Supreme Court and AmericanConstitutionalism, edited by Bradford P.Wilson and Ken Masugi 89

Copyright 1999 interpretation

ISSN 0020-9635


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Editor-in-ChiefExecutive EditorGeneral Editors

Consulting Editors

International EditorsEditors

Manuscript EditorSubscriptions

InterpretationHilail Gildin, Dept. of Philosophy, Queens CollegeLeonard GreySeth G. Benardete Charles E. ButterworthHilail Gildin Robert Horwitz (d . 1987)Howard B. White (d . 1974)Christopher Bruell Joseph Cropsey Emest L. FortinJohn Hallowell (d . 1992) Harry V. JaffaDavid Lowenthal Muhsin Mahdi Harvey C. MansfieldArnaldo Momigliano (d . 1987) Michael Oakeshott

(d . 1990) Ellis Sandoz Leo Strauss (d . 1973)Kenneth W. ThompsonTerence E. Marshall Heinrich MeierWayne Ambler Maurice Auerbach Fred BaumannAmy Bonnette Patrick CobyElizabeth C de Baca Eastman - Thomas S. EngemanEdward J. Erler Maureen Feder-MarcusPamela K. Jensen Ken Masugi Will MorriseySusan Orr Charles T. Rubin Leslie G. RubinSusan Meld Shell Bradford P. Wilson Martin D. YaffeeMichael P. Zuckert Catherine H. ZuckertLucia B. ProchnowSubscription rates per volume (3 issues):individuals $29libraries and all other institutions $48students (four-year limit) $18

Single copies available.Postage outside U.S.: Canada $4.50 extra;

elsewhere $5.40 extra by surface mail (8 weeksor longer) or $ 1 1 .00 by air.

Payments: in U.S. dollars and payable bya financial institution located within th e U.S.A.(o r th e U.S. Postal Service).

The Journal Welcomes Manuscripts in Political Philosophy as Well as Thosein Theology, Literature, and Jurisprudence.

contributors should follow The Chicago Manual of Style, 13th ed. or manualsbased on it; double-space their manuscripts , including notes; p la c e r e fe re n ce s in th etext, in endnotes or follow current journal style in printing references. Words fromlanguages not rooted in Latin should be transliterated to English. To ensureimpartial judgment of their manuscripts , contributors should omit mention of theirother wo rk ; p ut, on the title page only, their name, any affiliation desired, addresswith postal/zip code in full, E-Mail and te lephone. Please send four clear copies ,which will not be returned.

Composition by Eastern CompositionA Division of Bytheway Publishing ServicesBinghamton, N.Y. 13901 U.S.A.Printed by The She ridan Press,Hanover PA 17331 U.S.A.

Inquiries: (Ms.) Joan Walsh, Assistant to the Editorinterpretation, Queens College, Flushing, N.Y1 1367-1597, U.S.A. (718)997-5542 Fax (718) 997-5565


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave:Leo Strauss's Ambiguous Tribute to Max Weber

Clark A. MerrillSalve Regina University

How then should human beings live? What is the best political order fo rman? Must social science restrict itself to accumulating knowledge about possible means fo r achieving the ends of pol icy, whatever those ends may be, withoutever venturing to establish or judge th e ends themselves? Max Weber's fact-value distinction says precisely that: no Ought can ever be derived from any Is .Why is that? Because th e Is, the sensible facts of our existence, do n ot re vealour proper ends as human beings. In ou r moral perplexity, the universe remainssilent. Yet p ol it ic s m us t constantly assert the Ought. Should political candidatesaccept large financial contributions? Should the law execute murderers? Shouldthe s ta te c om p en sa te an individual when it takes his property fo r the publicgood? The language of politics is necessarily the language of good and bad, justand unjust , honorable and dishonorable. How ar e such questions to be answeredif we cannot know the end at which we should aim? The question before us iswhether Weber wa s right, w h et he r s ci en ce or human reason cannot , in fact,make any contribution to political discourse beyond th e bare analysis of factand comparison of means.

Since fifth-century Athens, political philosophy has been the science co ncerned with the relation between knowledge and action. Within th e long t radit ion o f political phi losophy, th e family of teachings that affirm the capacity ofhuman reason to tell us how we should live has gone by the name of naturalright o r n atu ra l law. The greatest and most intriguingly ambiguous explorationof Weber's social science from the viewpoint of political philosophy is that byLeo Strauss in the second chapter of Natural Right and History.1 In this essay,I propose to undertake a detailed analysis of Strauss's argument in that denselywritten chapter.

THE SOCRATIC ANSWER

Strauss begins the chapter with a terse series of a ss er ti on s a nd distinctions.Historicism claims to have demonstrated that natural right, th e teaching that wecan derive knowledge of our proper ends from knowledge of what is, is impossible because philosophy is impossible. Philosophy, to be possible, requires access

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4 Interpretationto an absolute horizon beyond the limited, contingent horizon given us by ou rparticular time and place. Philosophy requires access to what is true withoutqualification, no t simply w ha t a pp ea rs to be true to us here an d n o w . But thepossession of such an absolute horizon actually entails far less than we mightat first imagine: philosophy does not r e qu ir e p o ss es s io n of wisdom or knowledge of the good ; it merely requires knowledge of the fundamental problems,the fundamental alternatives, tha t constitute the permanent horizon of the humancondition. Thus, philosophy requires fa r less than natural right. Natural rightimplies the possession of wisdom; it requires a solution to the fundamentalp ol it ic al p ro bl em of how we should live. "[P]hilosophy is only the necessaryand not the s u ff ic ien t c o nd itio n of natural right"(NRH, p. 35).

Yet political philosophy without a solution to the fundamental problem ofpolitics is of n o p ra cti ca l value; it cannot tell us how to act. Such a politicalphilosophy would leave the goal of action to blind choice, to arbitrary will.

Having laid out these distinctions, Strauss then makes an astonishing claim:"The whole galaxy of political philosophers from Plato to Hegel, an d certainlyall adherents of natural right, assumed that the fundamental political problem issusceptible of a final solution"(NRH pp. 35-36). Philosophy ca n potentiallyprovide no t just the necessary but th e sufficient condition fo r natural right; it isconceivable that the philosopher may eventually possess wisdom. This solutionwas discovered by the discoverer o f political philosophy, and Strauss calls it byhis name: the "Socratic answer."But what is this Socratic answer? It consistsin this: "By realizing that we are ignorant of th e most important things, werealize at the same t ime that the most important thing fo r us, or the one thingneedful , is quest for knowledge of th e most important things or quest fo r wisdom" (NRH, p. 36).

This answer , this foundation of natural right, is deeply shocking to anyoneconcerned with active, political life. Indeed, it is so shocking that the minds ofmost readers will long resist and may in fact prove finally impermeable to thefull implications of this answer. The Socratic answer tells us that th e on e thingwe can know fo r certain about how we should live is that th e final end of humanlife is to live as a philosopher. This answer denies that political or practical life,the life of action, possesses any rational order, any source of guidance, withinitself. For Strauss, all arguments intended to ground the moral conventions o fsociety in nature are, in fact, neither rational nor natural. Thus, according toStrauss, th e Socratic answer approves (o r at least does not deny) the claims ofthe historicists: all strictly political or moral claims about th e good can stemonly from well-intentioned ignorance or cynical lust fo r power or, more comprehensively, from the random conjunction of historical forces; in short , from fate.

Yet this Socratic answer does not reduce th e standards of political life tomere arbitrariness. Instead, it preserves a peculiar sort of natural right. It hasonly on e principle: the goodness of th e philosophical life. Of course, this answerdoes no t entirely do away with many of the moral precepts with which we are


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 5all familiar: how can one philosophize or how can a young man or womanbecome seriously attracted to the philosophical life whose soul is distracted orenslaved by drunkenness, lust, greed, or any other form of bodily intemperance?But morality on this basis is greatly reduced from th e status given it by politicalmen. Morality, in light of the Socratic answer , is purely instrumental, a meansto the end of philosophizing, a means which may be varied at need.2

This teaching is so foreign to our usual understanding of morality that it isdifficult fully to grasp, le t alone accept. Strauss himself put his finger on thepoint that makes it so shocking: "[I]f these virtues are understood only as subservient to philosophy and fo r its sake, then that is no longer a moral understandingof the virtues."3he question of the best order fo r active life can be answeredonly by referring to the needs of the contemplative life. The best political orderis that which in the given circumstances best conduces to philosophizing bythose who are able to philosophize.

In a certain sense, nothing more needs to be said. Yet the whole of Plato'sRepublic, Aristotle's Politics, and the entire corpus of later political philosophyshow that a lo t more can be said. There are two broad reasons fo r this loquacity:th e philosophers must adapt their teachings about the best possible politicalorder as circumstances change, and they must also find new words to justify th elife of philosophizing to the vast majority of mankind who cannot think beyondth e political, beyond the exigencies of the life of action. This means that naturalright will always have two faces: an inward, permanent face, the Socratic answer , the real natural right teaching, that quest fo r wisdom is the one thingneedful ; and an outward , changing face, the apparent natural right teaching, thatth e principles of morality have a direct basis in nature. Only the first is true; thesecond is literally false but serves the truth. Both faces of political philosophyare necessary to implement the Socratic answer as long as philosophers do notrule a most unlikely event , as the Socrates of the Republic is perfectly aware.Strauss does not say he accepts the Socratic answer. After all, if one rejects theSocratic answer , one only denies that philosophy in the form of political philosophy can be useful to the active life; philosophy itself remains possible. Thusthere are true philosophers, the Epicureans, who reject th e Socratic answer andhave li tt le use fo r political philosophy.

Now th e life of reason, the quest fo r wisdom, which th e Socratic answerproclaims the true, highest end of man, may lead its devotee to conclude that"wisdom is not the one thing needful"(NRH, p. 36). Reason may demonstratethat reason is not enough fo r man to achieve his highest end; but, as Strausssays, "the very disavowal of reason must be reasonable disavowal" (p . 36). Thispossibility we might call it the anti-Socratic answer constitutes one of thepermanent features of the absolute horizon that makes philosophy possible. Inthis way , philosophy itself always preserves, not only the possibility of revelation, but the possibility of man's absolute need for revelation. Yet reason's owndiscovery that the human good may require more than reason appears to put


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6 Interpretationreason an d unreason (o r faith) on the same footing: each appearing to be theobject o f a choice that, on this premise, ca n only be arbitrary, since reason itselfis one of the alternatives, not th e common principle.4

FIRST ACCUSATION: WEBER AS NIHILIST

Strauss introduces his discussion o f Weber by saying that Weber wa s a victim of this very confusion, that it led him to posit the ultimate equivalence offaith and reason, and that consequently he rejected the Socratic answer and,with it, the possibility of natural rig ht and a useful political philosophy.

Strauss's entire analysis o f Weber's teaching takes the form of a descent intoan abyss, a r ed uc ti o adprofundum.5ach of Strauss's arguments or explicationsis shown to be partial an d provisional by th e next step, which descends to a stilldeeper level, a truer understanding of Weber's fundamental teaching.Facts versus Values

Strauss begins by examining that part of Weber's teaching remembered byeven the most casual graduate student. According to th is teaching, facts andvalues are entirely heterogeneous. Science, including social science, dealsstrictly with facts; values lie beyond its competence.

Who aside from certain big children who are ind eed found in th e natural sciences still believes that th e findings of astronomy, biology, physics , or chemistrycould teach us anything about th e meaning of th e world? . . If these natural sciences lead to anything in this way , they are apt to make th e belief that there is sucha thing as th e

"meaning' of th e universe die out at its veryroots.6

Weber goes on to quote Tolstoy: "Science is meaningless because it gives noanswer to ou r quest ion, the only question important for us: 'What shall we doand how shall we live?' " (p. 143). According to Strauss, Weber attributes science's meaninglessness to "the most fundamental of all oppositions, namely ,the opposition of th e Is and the Ought, or the opposition of reality and norm orvalue"(NRH, p. 41). Yet, Strauss immediately points out that the heterogeneityof Is and Ought does not logically entail the impossibility of an evaluating socialscience. If science possessed from some nonempirical source true knowledge ofth e Ought, this would legitimately guide all scientific investigation of the Is .Thus, when Weber maintains th e impossibility of an evaluating social science,he reveals that he rejects any possibility whatsoever of knowing the Ought."Weber denied to ma n any science, empirical or rational, any knowledge, scientific or philosophic, of the true value system: the true value system does not


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave ' 7exist; there is a variety of values which are of th e same rank, whose demandsconflict with one another , and whose conflict cannot be solved by human reason"(NRH, pp. 41-42) .

The Reduction to Nihilism

Having revealed th e actual assumption underlying Weber's fact-value distinction, Strauss makes his first (and, as it turns out, provisional) accusation: "Icontend that Weber 's thesis necessarily leads to nihilism or to the view thatevery preference, however evil, base, or insane, has to be judged befo re thetr ibunal of reason to be as legitimate as any otherpreferenNRH, p. 42).Yet Weber himself appeared to accept this same conclusion about the humanpredicament , that we must embrace values without the ability to demonstraterationally why one value is superior to another , as evidence of a new , a us te re ,and elevated conception of human dignity.

Man's dignity, his being exalted fa r above everything merely natural or above allbrutes, consists in his setting up autonomously his ultimate values, in making thesevalues his constant ends, and in rationally choosing th e means to these ends. Thedignity of man consists in his autonomy, i.e., in th e individual's freely choosing hisown values or his own ideals or in obeying th e injunction: 'Become what thou art.'(NRH, p. 44)7

Strauss sets about analyzing what Weber can possibly mean by this injunction.What is the dignity possessed by the autonomous human being who freelychooses to become what he is? Strauss does this by pursuing that injunctionthrough six transformations, each representing a further clarification of what theinjunction must really mean. (The following summarizes NRH, pp. 44-47.) Atfirst, to "become what thou art"appears to imply a nonarbitrary standard: "Thoushalt have ideals." But Weber does not believe human beings can know whatthose ideals are. Thus to "have ideals" can only mean "Follow thy demon" or"Follow thy god or demon."8 Political life can never be based on the rationalapprehension of a common good ; the essence of politics must always be conflictamong blindly asserted values. But even this formulation hides th e implicationthat these gods or demons can as easily be bad as good. The fully articulatedimperative is "Follow thy demon, regardless of whether he is a good or evildemon." Transla ted into nonmythic language, this injunction becomes "Striveresolutely fo r excellence or baseness."

But Strauss pushes Weber's meaning still deeper. Weber did not attach theusual , moral meanings to "excellence" and "baseness." No one can distinguisha good cause from a bad cause , and this incapacity underlies Weber's belief thatthe essence of politics is conflict. What then can he mean by excellent and base?


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8 InterpretationHe cannot distinguish among causes; instead, Strauss argues, Weber distinguishes dedication to a cause , any cause, from lack of such dedication. "Excellence no w means devotion to a cause, be it good or evil , and baseness meansindifference to all

causes"(NRH, p. 46). All the usual moral content has, bynow, been s qu ee ze d o ut of Weber's imperative, but an attenuated core remains,captured in the command: "Thou shalt livepassionhere all values areequally empty of cognitive content , th e laurel goes to the m o s t passionate. Thedegree of energy or commitment will supplant the quality of the action or theintended outcome as the criteria by which to judge an actor's "authenticity." Itis in light of this preference fo r passionate commitment that we must understandWeber's contempt fo r "specialists without spirit or vision and voluptuaries withou t heart." Yet Weber must have known that he would ultimately be driven todeny even this core or re mn an t of objective morality; strict conformity to thefact-value dichotomy does not permit one to p ra is e p as si on over apathy, commitment over self-absorption. Thus, following Weber's ow n logic, Strauss drawsout the final transformation o r r ed uc ti on of the imperative "Become what thouart."It can be stated: "Thou shalt have preferences.Note that Strauss twiceused th e word "preference" in his original accusation of nihil ism , NRH, p. 42.)

If this is Weber's nihilism, it still rests upon a ledge somewhere above thefinal abyss. The passionate man , even the man wh o simply has preferences,ought to choose his preferences responsibly. Though each of us chooses in amoral void without objective norms , in darkness w i th o ut e xt er na l light, Weberholds onto one last principle: intellectual honesty. One must choose what , according to one's ow n internal light, on e believes to be right. Weber would haveus be responsible nihilists. Against this final redoubt , Strauss merely asks: Why,in th e absence of all criteria, sh ou ld o ne choose to adhere to s om e s ta nd ar d ofresponsibility rather than indulge in utter irresponsibility? If nothing is true,everything is permitted. Strauss thus pushes th e fact-value distinction of f thelast ledge on which Weber had attempted to halt its descent. Noble nihilism isan oxymoron ; complete nihilism is the logical terminus of Weber 's fact-valuedistinction.

The Impossibility of a Value-Free Social ScienceThe nihilism inherent in the fact-value distinction, however, would make

social science impossible. The student of human action wh o could not distinguish between g oo d and bad, important and trivial, excellent and debased wouldbe incapable of making sense of his subject, let alone writing intelligibly aboutit. Weber's practice wa s better than his theory. "His work would be no t merelydull but absolutely meaningless if he did not speak almost constantly of practically all intellectual and moral virtues and vices in the appropriate language,i.e., the language of praise and blame" (NRH, p. 51).


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 9The tactic Weber employed to accommodate the need to recognize and study

values while , at th e same time, isolating his method from contamination bythose values was called "reference to values."The social scientist may , by thismethod, study how a value, such as freedom or industriousness, has operated asa source of cohesion or contention, stability or change , within a given society.Strauss, however, points out that a social science which conducted its studypurely with reference to the values of those being studied, while itself makingno value judgments,

would have to accept as morality, religion, art, knowledge, state, etc., whateverclaimed to be morali ty , religion, art, etc. . . . But this limitation exposes one to th edanger of falling victim to every deception and every self-deception of th e peopleone is studying; it penalizes every critical attitude; taken by itself it deprives socialscience of every possible value. (NRH, p. 55)10

W eber's own immense body of scholarship is only intelligible, let alone insightful and enl ightening, because of the acuity and balance of his own value judgments lying behind the selection, analysis , and expression of the phenomena hestudied. If Weber the theorist was a nihilist , Weber the practicing scholar wasnot.

A Legit imate Historicism

Then, in an apparent about face, Strauss claims there is a certain kind ofscholarship that not only benefits from value-neutrality but is only made possible by an approach that "limits itself to understanding people in th e way inwhich they understand themselves . . (NRH, p. 56). This argument justifiesthe methodology Strauss himself employed in his own historical scholarship.Now Strauss is simply not interested in the self-understanding of the commonindividual, social groups , mass movements , or institutions. He has in mind thegreat teachers, the originators of doctrines, the rare philosopher, prophet, lawgiver , or theologian. In these cases, the proper approach is an historical interpretation unprejudiced by one's own values (which are likely to be the valuesof one's own time), an approach that "understands a teaching as meant by itsoriginator."11trauss concedes that such value-free, purely historical scholarshipis "merely preparatory or

ancillary"(NRH, p. 57). One must presume that it ispreparatory to a mature or final science which would be evaluative. Havingunderstood the greatest thinkers, not of one age, but of all ages, as they understood themselves, one would have achieved a truly t ranshistorical vantage fromwhich to pronounce upon th e teaching of any time or place. Strauss neverclaimed to have completed this preparatory work; it is not clear he thought itscompletion possible. But he did argue that Weber failed to avoid allowing his


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10 Interpretation

scholarship to become entangled in time-bound prejudices. Thus, fo r all itsworth and its espousal of value-neutral i ty, Weber's work does not attain thelevel of purely historical scholarship that Strauss imposed on himself. Specifically, Weber's late-modern prejudice which "takes it fo r granted that objectivevalue judgments are impossible cannot take very seriously that thought of thepast which was based on the assumption that objective value judgments arepossible, i.e., practically all thought of earliergeneratialue-free scienceis held captive by its own unacknowledged value; its historicism presupposes atranshistorical truth.

SECOND ACCUSATION: WEBER AS PROTO-POLITICAL THEOLOGIAN

At this point , there occurs the central transition in Strauss's explication ofWeber's fact-value distinction. Having already completed twenty-six pages ofdense analysis and pursued the logic of Weber's self-declared methodology tothe depths of nihilism, Strauss announces that the preliminaries are over, andwe can now proceed to consider what actually was Weber's central thesis. Ithas been demonstrated that a value-free social science is impossible; Webercertainly did not practice such a science, nor even when theorizing did he pressth e fact-value distinction to its logical conclusion. We may surmise that Weberwas really not concerned about the practicing social scientist's supposed inability to make commonsense judgments to distinguish a serious religious thinkerfrom a crackpot, a conscientious politician from a demagogue, self-denial fromself-seeking, art from trash, an important issue from a trivial one.

The Ineradicable Conflict among Fundamental Alternatives

The fact-value distinction has obscured th e real issue which, according toWeber, science is helpless to decideth e issue of religion versus irreligion, i.e., of genuine religion versus noble irreligion, as distinguished from th e issue of mere sorcery, or mechanical ritualism versus th e irreligion of specialists without vision and voluptuaries without heart. It isthis real issue which , according to Weber, cannot be settled by human reason, justas th e conflict between different genuine religions of th e highest rank (e.g., th e conflict between Deutero-Isaiah, Jesus, and Buddha) cannot be settled by human reason. Thus, in spite of th e fact that social science stands or falls by value judgments,social science or social philosophy cannot settle th e decisive value conflicts. (NRHpp. 62-63)

Social science can distinguish the great scholar from the academic drone, but itcannot prove that the scientific life itself is superior to the life of th e saint or


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 11politician. Social science can distinguish th e religious leader from th e charlatanand th e statesman from the functionary, but it cannot prove that the life dedicated to God is superior or inferior to the life dedicated to th e state, or thateither is better or worse than the life dedicated to science. Science cannot judgebetween the ultimate callings to which men dedicate their lives. With such questions, one enters the realm where "ultimate Weltanschauungen clash, worldviews among which in th e end one has to make a choice"(Weber, "Politics asa Vocation," p. 1 17).

Behind Weber's premise of irreconcilable conflict among ultimate values,Strauss finds the presupposition that conflict is the fundamental condition ofhuman existence; peace is illusory. Since real peace , a real resolution or harmonization of these fundamental conflicts, is impossible, the only possible simulacrum of peace must be the bovine somnolence of Nietzsche's last men. ButWeber does not stop at envisioning a world of perpetual international conflictdominated by "warrior ethics"and governed by Machiavellian "power politics."In such a world , the individual could still be at peace within himself . Thoroughgoing conflict must penetrate th e very soul , dividing each man against himself.The patriotic duties of political life, which entail strife, contradict the sacredduties of rel igion, which command love; and faith in either God or fatherlandrepudiates unbelieving science.12eber's final teaching about the human predicament appears to be that man cannot plumb th e existential depth, cannotexperience the full tragedy of authentic existence, without confronting the irreconcilable claims of atheism and faith on th e battleground of his own anguishedsoul (NRH, pp. 64-66). Strauss cautions us that Weber's "unshakable faith inth e supremacy of conflict"suggests that, to th e extent his social science actuallyinfluences politics or the ideas of politicians, its influence is likely to be deleterious , since that faith " forced him to have at least as high a regard fo r extremismas fo r moderate courses"(NRH, p. 67). His social science tends to equate theextreme with the authentic, thereby undermining the virtues of moderation andstatesmanship. This by itself is a serious charge against Weber's social science.

Two Proofs

Strauss next considers some of Weber's attempts to prove the irreconcilability of ultimate values. He seems uncertain, however, just how many proofsWeber provides. In a footnote, he says there are three or four; in the text, hesays he will discuss tw o or three of these (NRH, p. 67 and n. 27). In the following pages, be clearly enumerates tw o proofs. Does he discuss a third and perhapseven a fourth without calling attention to them as such? I will argue that, afterdiscussing and refuting the tw o clearly enumerated proofs , Strauss goes on toconsider a third and fourth which he shows to be inconclusive but which hecannot definitively refute. It may be th e profoundly disturbing implications of


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12 Interpretationhis inability to refute Weber's true, underlying arguments that cause Strauss todisguise their significance in such a way that casual readers will overlook them.

The first tw o proofs need not long delay us. In th e first, Weber sets out pairsof opposed views about various moral quest ions, such as whether it would bejust fo r society to shower rewards or impose demands on an individual who hasdistinguished himself by his superiority in some activity. Weber implies that noobjective criteria exist fo r determining which response would be truly just.Strauss simply points out that, in any case where a just solution remains unclearor where the choice lies between morally indifferent alternatives, society can dowhatever most expediently serves the public interest. W eber's notion of justicemakes it a purely individual matter , cutting it off from any consideration of thecommon good of society (NRH, pp. 67-69).In his second proof , Weber contrasts the ethics of responsibility, which isconcerned with practical consequences, to the ethics of intention, which is concerned with the realization of a preconceived ideal. By this opposition, Weberpurports to show that moral commitment requires us to override considerationsof social responsibility, while social responsibility demands that we turn a blindeye to moral ideals. Strauss argues that this contrast betrays a fundamental confusion on the part of Weber, a confusion between what can be known by humanreason and what can only be believed. Strauss dryly comments that Weber"merely proved tha t otherworldly ethics, or rather a certain type of otherworldlyethics, is incompatible with those standards of human excellence or of humandignity which the unassisted human mind discerns." Moral injunctions based onrevealed knowledge or some suprarational ideology are very fa r from posing aproblem for social science which is, after all, concerned strictly with "humanknowledge of human life," and whose light is, after all, only the natural light.Strauss even goes so far as to state that, "if genuine insights of social sciencecan be questioned on the basis of revelation, revelation is not merely abovereason but against reason"(NRH, pp. 69-7 1).13

Third Proof: Historicism or Fate

The fact that Strauss could so easily refute the first tw o proofs is an indication that they were merely the expressions or symptoms of a deeper problemthat made Weber despair of th e adequacy of human reason. The questionwhether human reason can judge of good and bad actions was not th e core ororigin of Weber's doubt. The core lies in his apprehension that "science orphilosophy is unable to give a clear or certain account of its own basis" (NRH,p. 72). Is the life devoted to "the search for knowable truth" good? Is it worthwhile and choiceworthy? Or is it rather a curse? Does it turn its practitionersfrom h igher ends and make them the destroyers of human happiness throughthe rationalization and disenchantment of the world? "By regarding the quest


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 13fo r truth as valuable in itself, one admits that one is making a preference whichno longer has a good or sufficient reason"(p . 72). In Weber, one sees a modernrationalism that has lost confidence in itself.

Even to the extent that Weber did, by his ow n example, assert that sciencecan provide reliable knowledge about human things, can free human beingsfrom delusion and establish the foundation for a free and self-reliant life fo rman, he still denied that we can affirm that the life devoted to science is simplybest or that t he truth it discovers is universally valid. Specifically, "he refusedto say that science or philosophy is concerned with the truth which is valid fo rall m en regardless of whether they desire to know it or not"(NRH, p. 73).Strauss speculates that it was the influence of historicism that prevented Weberfrom claiming fo r science th e authority of universal t ruth. Weber suspects thatth e modern elevation of scientific knowledge and its intrinsic claim to universality are, in fact, only th e products of a unique , arbitrary conjunction of historicalforces. "What claims to be freedom from delusions is as much and as littledelusion as the faiths which prevailed in the past and which may prevail in thefuture" (p . 73). History, in this view, is fate.14 If Weber r em a in e d s te ad fa st inhis allegiance to the strict discipline of science, if he acknowledged only reasonas the p ro pe r m ea ns fo r discovering truth an d spurned th e claims of faith, if he"refused to bring the sacrifice of th e intellect," it ca n only be due to when andwhere he was born, how he was educated, who he was who , in short, historyor fate determined him to be (NRH, pp . 73-74).

Fourth Proof: Science as a Vocation

No sooner does S trauss complete his compelling case fo r labeling Weber anhistoricist than he introduces a reservation which reveals that account , too, tohave been only p ro vi si on al a nd superficial; we have not yet quite reached thebottom. Weber was not an historicist.

What then lies at th e bottom of Weber's anguished doubts about the sufficiency, even the goodness , of science as a vocation? Strauss states th e fundamentalproblem as follows: "Man cannot live without light, guidance, knowledge; onlythrough knowledge of the good can he find th e good that he needs."If on e startsfrom this concern , it is inevitable that the "fundamental question"will be"whether men c an a cq uir e that knowledge o f the g oo d w ith ou t w hich they cannot guide their lives individually or collectively by the unaided efforts o f theirnatural powers, or w hether they are dependent fo r that knowledge on DivineRevelation" (NRH, p. 74). Furthermore, having raised the question of human ordivine guidance, r ea so n o r revelat ion, philosophy or th e Bible, Athens or Jerusalem, Strauss concurs with Weber's conclusion: the choice c an n ei th er be evadedno r settled conclusively. The claims of the life dedicated to obedient faith andthe life dedicated to free investigation contradict on e another; neither side can


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14 Interpretation

ultimately refute the other; and th e tw o cannot be harm onized. In other words,having reached the core of Weber's doubts about science or philosophy, we findStrauss agreeing with him!

This startling convergence between the critic and his subject, however, isfollowed by a very peculiar paragraph.

If we take a bird's-eye view of th e secular struggle between philosophy and th eology, we can hardly avoid th e impression that neither of th e tw o antagonists hasever succeeded in really refuting th e other. All arguments in favor of revelationseem to be valid only i f belief in revelation is presupposed; and all argumentsagainst revelation seem to be valid only if unbelief is presupposed. This state ofthings would appear to be but natural. Revelation is always so uncertain to unassisted reason that it can never compel th e assent of unassisted reason, and man is sobuilt that he can find h is satisfaction, his bliss, in free investigation, in articulatingth e riddle of being. But, on th e other hand, he yearns so much fo r a solution of thatriddle and human knowledge is always so limited that th e need for d iv ine illumination cannot be denied and th e possibility of revelation cannot be refuted. Now it isthis state of things that seems to decide irrevocably against philosophy and in favorof revelation. Philosophy has to grant that revelation is possible. But to grant thatrevelation is possible means to grant that philosophy is perhaps something infinitelyunimportant. To grant that revelation is possible means to grant that th e philosophiclife is not necessari ly , not evidently, the right life. Philosophy, th e life devoted toth e quest fo r evident knowledge available to man as man , would itself rest on an un-evident, arbitrary, or blind decision. This would merely confirm th e thesis of faith,th a t th e re is no possibility of consistency, of a consistent and thoroughly sincerelife, without belief in revelation. The mere fact that philosophy and revelation cannot refute each other would constitute th e refutation of philosophy by revelation.(NRH, p. 75).

On its surface, this paragraph carries the agreement further, seeming to moveStrauss closer to Weber's position. The very irresolvability of the dispute between reason and revelation would seem actually to decide in favor of revelation, fo r even the decision to pursue a life of skeptical rationality would haveto begin with a leap of faith. It would seem that all one has to do is prove thatrevelation is possible (i.e., that reason cannot finally refute it) in order to forcereason to concede to revelation the ultimate victory. If the justification fo r th ephilosophical life is not demonstrable, then it, like the life of obedient belief,must rest upon a blind decision. This realization lies at th e heart of Weber'stortured dedication to th e vocation of science; it also lies at the center of themodern crisis of rationality.

But le t us look more closely at this paragraph. Almost every sentence is insubjunctive mood or contains some other device to qualify its apparent sense.16The paragraph begins with "If; three t imes something is said to "seem" tobe th e case; the auxiliary "would" appears four times; tw o "perhaps," a "notnecessarily,"a "not evidently,"and the phrase "we can hardly avoid the impres-


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 15sion that" round out the number of qualifiers. In short, this paragraph sets outthe innermost core of Weber's dilemma and demonstrates that it is th e positionStrauss to o would be compelled to embrace if he had begun his thinking fromthe point at which Weber began. Thus, Strauss concedes that, given Weber'sstarting place, th e life dedicated to rational inquiry must ultimately be based,like dedication to any other god , on an act of faith. What Strauss specificallydoes not say is that he accepts Weber's starting place, namely his assumptionthat men must have knowledge of the good if they are to have any basis uponwhich to guide their lives.

THE LAST SCIENTIST IN THE WHOLE WORLD

Strauss concludes his analysis by capturing th e essence of Weber's dilemmain tw o sentences:

It was th e conflict between revelation and philosophy or science in th e full sense ofth e term and th e implications of that conflict that led Webe r to assert th at th e ideaof science or philosophy suffers from a fatal weakness. He tried to remain faithfulto th e cause of autonomous insight, but he despaired when he felt that th e sacrificeof th e intellect, which is abhorred by science or philosophy, is at th e bottom of science or philosophy. (NRH, pp. 75-77)17

As a judgment of Max Weber, this conclusion is ambiguous. It betraysStrauss's sober respect , even admirat ion, but also his unblinking awareness ofth e fatal error which, in part through Weber's influence, would rapidly infectthe modern perception of the capacity of human reason and the estimation ofthe life dedicated to it. There is also Weber's moral superiority to many of hissuccessors who have retained his assumption that social science can neitherrefute the claims of revelation nor satisfy the demands of humanity fo r guidanceand yet who, unlike Weber, seem either unaware or not deeply troubled bythe implications of these failures. More specifically, Strauss respected Weber'sdoctrine of the distinction between fact and value as having been a noble effortto insulate science from politics. Weber may be said to have erected the fact-value distinction as a bulwark to protect his scientific investigation into causalrelationships from infection by any of the ideologies, such as national ism, socialism , and communism, then rampant in German intellectual circles. Behindthis philosophically defective barrier, he clearly succeeded in keeping his mindopen to the experience of political reality, and it is this quality that gives hiswork its lasting value. Weber remained a master in magnificent command ofhis empirical materials. Thus, we may excuse , even admire, Weber's methodology fo r having provided him "a means of critique against ideological politicsdisguised as science, a means of combating what Benda called 'the betrayal of


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16 Interpretationthe intellectuals' " (Eden, "Why Wasn't Weber a Nihilist?" with quotation fromNRH, p. 34). Strauss cannot but have admired Weber's lifelong dedication tothe attempt to preserve the possibility of r ig or ou s s ci en ce against th e imperiousdemands of dogma, both theological and political. Strauss cannot but haveconcurred that beliefs should only constitute the object of investigation by thescientist studying human things. Both w ou ld a bh or as a monstrosity the teacher-a dv oc ate or th e philosopher-believer. I w ou ld g ues s that Strauss undertook thedemolition of th e philosophical framework of Weber's life work as a painfultask that must be c ar ri ed o ut in order to force us moderns to recognize ou r needto recover a basis entirely different from the modern on e upon which to justifyand fortify the life dedicated to reason.

Part of Strauss's admiration fo r Weber is surely due to Weber's misgivingabout Nietzsche's moral influence on politics. Nietzsche's teaching relegates thecultivation of mundane , limited political virtues to a plane vastly inferior to thephilosopher's quest fo r truth and the believer's pursuit of a supernatural good.Having r e du c ed p h ilos o ph ica l e thics to history an d announced the death of God,Nietzsche never seriously considered a return to classical political philosophy'steaching about the virtues. Instead, in the absence of any ground, m an mustassume th e task of creating his own values. At least in his scholarly pract ice,Weber preserved a place fo r political virtue, even though his philosophical assumptions contradicted th e claims of such virtues. Indeed, one m ight even saythat it is a mark of Weber's stubborn nobility to have accepted the core ofNietzsche's teaching while holding out fo r the claims of moral virtue and thep ra ctic al e xige n cies of politics.19f this is true, then Weber's nobility was purchased at th e cost of incoherence.

If Weber is a half-student of Nietzsche, he is th e half-innocent precursor ofHeidegger, and from there we pass un de r the shadow of Hitler.20 By denyingthe adequacy of human reason, Weber surrendered the governance of life torevelation and contributed to th e destruction of the age-old tension betweenphilosophy a nd r e ve la tion . In Heidegger, the fundamental tension between Jerusalem and Athens is finally demolished, or rather resolved. Heidegger pilloriestheory without commitment as the destroyer of man's humanity.

Theory has culminated in th e worldwide victory of technology and th e end of philosophy The task of thinking at th e end of philosophy is to develop th e depths inou r Western thought ultimately derivative from th e Bible, th e East in us, but freedfrom those dogmatic underpinnings that might prevent them from becoming planetary.21

Strauss was, I believe, persuaded by Nietzsche's and Heidegger's critique ofmodern rationalism. In his estimation, they had proved that the modern grounding fo r th e life of reason and the expectation that life should look to reason fo rguidance is fatally flawed. Yet, like Weber, Strauss did not, on this account,


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 17give up allegiance to reason. Unlike Weber, however, Strauss did n ot re so rt toan irrational commitment to rationality. Instead, he undertook to discover orrecover a truly adequate, alternative, nonmodern basis fo r the relation betweenreason a nd p ol it ic s.

It may not be entirely misleading to compare "Politics as a Vocation" toXenophon's Hiero. Both can be read as attempts to instruct an d m o de ra te thosewhom passion has driven to aspire to political power in what must inevitablybe an imperfect, a less than just, regime.22In Weber's lecture, as in Xenophon'sdialogue, a constant t heme running below th e surface of the text is th e questionconcerning the choiceworthiness of th e life of the ruler, th e political man , versusprivate life, the life of the thoughtful man. Weber c ou ld a lm os t be another Simonides , judiciously enticing tyrants and would-be tyrants to listen to his adviceabout politics by speaking only of interest an d power , while remaining silentabout morality. Both adroitly position themselves to be able to use their wisdomfo r the greatest benefit of the city by instructing and moderating rulers whowillingly listen to t h em. W e imagine, however, that Simonides, behind his prudent reticence, really does possess an ethical teaching; Weber has none (OnTyranny, pp . 55-56).

Weber represents the impotence of wisdom, or rather a wisdom become impotent. He never becomes a sophist; he never prostitutes wisdom fo r money orprivilege. But he has rejected or forgotten the classical connection between thephilosopher wh o is concerned with truth and the gentleman who is concernedwith courage an d justice. Either Weber saw no reason to uphold the standardsof the gent leman, or else he felt constrained by his ow n notion of scientificobjectivity not to do so. That is, in his writing and teaching, he declined top r ov i de a rg u me nt s to moderate the passions of the nonphilosophers and inducethem to acknowledge the nobility and usefulness o f the philosophic or contemplative life. Weber was utterly deficient in what the Arab political philosopherscalled the art of kalam. This deficiency leaves modern philosophy exposed,defenseless, and unedifying (O n Tyranny, p. 42). Even worse , philosophy's nakedness has permitted the growth o f the vulgar opinion that wisdom itself ismerely another contender fo r tyrannical power , since philosophy has left intactno argument that might contest the popular view that tyranny is the most pleasant life. The late modern lover of freedom is left to draw the demoralizingconclusion that, to preserve freedom against rationalized tyranny, humanitymust reject the possibility of wisdom.

To repeat, the problem is the starting point. Weber is a moralist , or rather ascientist wh o believes moral concerns are of paramount importance for humanlife. He sees himself confronted by m oral a nd po litical questions to which he,as a scientist, feels called upon to provide reliable answers. From this point ofview, the value of s cien ce a nd the adequacy of reason itself stand or fall byreason's ability to answer the pressing moral and p o litica l q u e stion s . In effect,the scientist o r p hi lo so ph er does no t simply appear to submit to th e judgment


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18 Interpretationof the homines politici et religiosi; he submits in his own conscience. Thismeans that if, from the point of view of moral and political life, science provesunable to provide guidance, wisdom, knowledge of the true end, then the scientist or philosopher cannot justify the scientific or contemplative life even tohimself. Coming at th e question of science from this starting place, what firstcomes into sight is the unavailability of any certain knowledge of natural right.Philosophy cannot provide the framework for praxis. Furthermore, having begunfrom the need fo r moral guidance, the rejection of natural right brings philosophy as a whole into doubt and disrepute. It was this reversal of the classicalrelationship between philosophy and natural r ight, followed by the apparent re futation of natural r ight, that precipitated the modern crisis o f philosophy orrationalism.25

While Weber himself steadfastly refused to surrender to the irrational, refused to bring the sacrifice of th e intellect, he nonetheless conspired in thesurrender of human reason to the irrational. Behind this surrender lies the secretbelief that reason by its ow n light ca n know nothing of th e most vital humanquestions, can know nothing of the good. All questions of value can only bedecided by blind faith. Weber, in a sense the last scientist in the three-hundred-year tradition of modern science, is no t an apostle of the Enlightenment; he isone of its pallbearers. Having attempted to illuminate all the caverns of humanexistence, Enlightenment brought about the deeper darkness o f a second, unnatural ca ve. This story has the form of a Greek tragedy recounting the inevitablepunishment of hubris: only by reaching too high has reason fallen so low. Itw as m od er n philosophy's exaggerated promises of comprehens ive , r at io na l co ntrol of nature that, being demolished, converted its descendants into unbelievingtheologians wh o have despaired of finding the least precept of natural right.

T HE R ET UR N TO THE SURFACE

Having penetrated to the furthest depth, th e true, hidden origin of M ax W eber's social science, Strauss makes one of the most startling transit ions to befound in scholarly writing: "But let us hasten back from these awful depths toa superficiality which, while no t exactly gay, promises at least a quiet sleep."He then begins the next sentence with th e phrase, "Having come up to thes ur fa ce a ga in . . . (NRH, p. 76).26 Why "again"? When were we at the surface?What was th e surface from which we set out on ou r journey to the center of thefact-value distinction? If you remember , the first tw o pages of th e chapter onWeber were no t about Weber but Socrates. To understand this transition andthe contrast it is making, it will be useful to introduce a lengthy quotation froma later chapter of Natural Right an d History:

Socrates seems to have regarded th e change which he brought about as a returnto 'sobriety' and 'moderation' from th e 'madness' of his predecessors. In contradis-


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 19tinction to his predecessors, he did not separate wisdom from moderation. In present-day parlance one can describe th e change in question as a return to 'commonsense'or to 'the world of common sense.'That to which th e question 'What is?'points is th e eidos of a thing, th e shape or form or character or 'idea' of a thing. Itis no accident that th e term eidos signifies primarily that which is visible to all without any particular effort or what one might call th e 'surface' of th e things. Socratesstarted not from what is first in itself or first by nature but from what is first fo r us,from what comes to sight first, from th e phenomena. But th e being of things, theirWhat, comes to sight, not in what we see of them, but in what is said about them orin opinions about them. Accordingly, Socrates started in his understanding of th e natures of things from th e opinions about their natures. For every opinion is based onsome awareness, on some perception with th e mind's eye, of something. Socratesimplied that disregarding th e opinions about th e natures of things would amount toabandoning th e most important access to reality which we have, or th e most important vestiges of th e tru th which are within our reach. He implied that 'the universaldoubt' of all opinions would lead us, not into th e heart of th e truth, but into a void.Philosophy consists, therefore, in th e ascent from opinions to knowledge or to thetruth, in an ascent that may be said to be guided by opinions. (NRH, pp. 123-24)

Note particularly that Socrates started from the "surface of things," from th ephenomena , from the form or character things take in people's opinions , notfrom things as they truly are in themselves, an approach which would requireradical doubt of all opinions.27Secondly, note that it is from this surface thatphilosophy begins its "ascent from opinions to knowledge or to the truth." Thus,against Weber 's depths we have Socrates' surface, against the descent beyondthe last glimmer of truth we have the ascent to knowledge and truth, against th edark void into which one falls by having made too direct an assault on the heartof truth we have at least th e promise of a sun in whose l ight beyond the shadowsof the cave we may at last see truth.

The fact-value dichotomy appeared to impose a severe intellectual austerityupon the scientist, constraining him with ascetic renunciation from any tendencytoward intellectual hubris. In fact, it takes for granted that a claim of immensemagnitude and palpable uncertainty has been definitively answered: namely,that all the opinions about the good and the bad are simply empty of t ruth. Thisis not philosophic skept icism ; this is a radical claim to have reached the finaltruth about things. This is a declaration that we must not simply climb out ofthe cave of our pretheoretical perceptions, but that we must close our eyes tothe cave and attempt mentally to construct some other starting place. Classicalphilosophy never lets one forget that science, or at least the philosophical exploration of the human things, emerges from opinion; it remembers its feet of clay.As a result, we are always reminded that, above all else, what we know is thatwe do not know. Modern science attempted to establish a foundation in absolutely indubitable propositions. In the event , it discovered that, not only did itnot have feet of clay, it had no feet at all. Its hypotheses hung suspended overan abyss.


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20 InterpretationIs Strauss's strange jest his dismissal, his quittance, of W eber's tragic depths?

Do those depths mark the dead en d reached by the entire movement of modernthought after its wrong turn in the seventeenth century? Was no t Descartes theexponent of the universal doubt of opinions? Did no t Bacon and Hobbes (andMachiavelli before them) advocate as the proper starting point fo r gaining access to reality, no t the contemplative acceptance of the appearance of things,but the invasive analysis, rigorous conceptualization, and aggressive control ofnature? Max Weber was, in a sense, the last scientist in a long line of scientistswh o had taken a turn that led to the destruction of science. Weber 's tragic stancehas been t reated with utmost respect by on e whose intellect and sympathy haverecreated in a few dense pages the honesty and anguish of a philosophic manwitnessing the self-destruction of mankind's highest creation, the collapse ofscience or philosophy and the collapse of the possibility of a life devoted toscience or philosophy, a vocation to which he had dedicated his own life and towhich the brightest minds since Machiavelli had dedicated theirs. And yet, afterthe debacle, after the death in th e last act, when the curtain falls an d true philosophy walks back on stage, having been lost to s ig ht s in ce the first pages of th edrama, it becomes suddenly possible to dismiss Weber's t ragic pose with acomic wink.

How then are w e to begin to recover what we have lost? Strauss looks aheadalong the path we must travel: "Only a comprehensive analysis of social realityas w e know it in actual life, and as m en a lw ay s have known it since there havebeen civil societies, would permit an adequate discussion of the possibility ofan evaluating social science."Note well that Strauss does n ot c la im such a socials ci en ce w ou ld finally settle the conflicting claim s m ade by different regimes ,nor does he claim it would resolve the fundamental alternatives posed by reasonand revelation. Such a social s ci en ce w ou ld no t constitute possession of th e finalknowledge of natural right; it would merely "supply a basis for responsiblejudgment on whether the conflict between these alternatives is, in principle,susceptible of a solution"(NRH, p. 78). Strauss's prescription, then, is to startto recover the horizon that became lost with the dominance of modern science.That horizon is the natural , prescientific, pretheoretical world , what w e calledth e surface of things, the phenomena simply as they appear and come to bearticulated by human beings.

Yet Strauss warns us that we fool ourselves if we take his advice too literallyan d atte mp t to rediscover this natural horizon simply by looking around us atth e world in which we live today. This world, ou r modern world, has beent ransformed and distorted by three centuries of modern science. Our eyes, theway we have been taught to see things from the t ime we learned speech, cannotadjust to seeing the pretheoretical reality as easily as putting on correctivelenses. An extensive, intellectually and morally demanding process o f unlearning must precede any recovery of the view of th e world that was natural before,say, 1513, the year Machiavelli wrote The Prince. "To say nothing o f technol-


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 21ogy, th e world in which we live is fre e from ghosts , witches, and so on, withwhich, but fo r the existence of science, it would abound. To grasp the naturalworld as a world that is radically prescientific or prephi losophic, one has to goback behind the first emergence of science or philosophy"(NRH, p. 79). In thisstatement , Strauss acknowledges the Enlightenment's benefits to humanitywhile, at th e same time, drawing our attention to what it has cost. Modernscience exorcised the ghosts from the machinery of the world. But what if theseghosts , these opinions , were a necessary part of ou r natural understandingcontaining the "soiled fragments of th e pure truth," from which alone wecan ascend toward knowledge of th e whole? These g ho sts and w itc he s a re notWeber's postscientific gods and demons to which science, having lost confidence in itself, feels compelled to genuflect. They are the prescientific gods w hoseem naturally to have populated men's beliefs about th e world; an d it was inthis naturally god-infested world governed by divine laws that classical politicalphilosophy learned to live, bowing respectfully in acknowledgment of th e gods'irreplaceable sovereignty over the city, but without conceiving that the claimsof the city could ever bring the philosophers to renounce th e preeminence ofcontemplation nor, in the end , feel compelled to bring the sacrifice o f the intellect.

Before leaving Weber, let us look once more at the peculiar paragraph,quoted above , in which Strauss appears to accept Weber's conclusion tha t thelife of science cannot justify its own choiceworthiness. Strauss begins the paragraph with an enigmatic image: "If we take a bird's-eye view of th e secularstruggle between philosophy and theology, we ca n hardly avoid th e impressionthat neither of the tw o antagonists has ever succeeded in really refuting theother"(NRH, p. 75). We have already shown that Strauss admits indeed, it isone of his most forcefully articulated teachings that neither philosophy no rrevelation ever can refute the other. Yet this sentence introduces a paragraphostensibly denying the very possibility of the Socratic answer. The key lies inth e image of the "birds-eye view."To understand the image, first call to mindPlato's image of the cave as a metaphor fo r the city. Then imag ine a landscapewith the entrances to a number of such c av es s ca tt er ed across it. Finally, imaginea bird soaring above this landscape, looking down on the many caves. This isthe view adopted by early modern philosophy toward th e natural wor ld , theworld as it appeared and was articulated by political, moral men. Modern philosophy o r sc ien ce aspires to a point of view entirely above th e opinions held inthe various caves, a view which, looking down on th e caves , sees their opinionsas only so much delusion, superstition, and ignorance. This aspirat ion, as wehave already shown, has the unfortunate effect of making philosophy itself assume direct responsibility for the enlightened governance of th e world, since ithas proclaimed itself the sole true source of wisdom. It was the eventual , inevitable collapse of this project that led to the crisis of confidence among philosophers themselves. The bird's-eye view is fatal.28


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22 InterpretationUntil all m en become philosophers, the true science attainable by the few

and the highest way of life attainable by the many m u st r em a in entirely distinct.Science or philosophy is a purely theoretical art; morality and politics have nopart in it. Nor can phi losophy, as such, concern itself with morality and politics.That leaves the best way of life to be supplied by a nontheoretical o r p ra ct ic alart, th e ar t of lawgiving or statesmanship. The point of view that holds thesetw o aspects of life, the theoretical and the practical, in a tense and necessaryrelationship while , at th e same time, preventing either from collapsing into theother , is political philosophy.

The shocking aspect of Platonic political philosophy, the aspect requiring thata veil of reassuring rhetoric be pulled over it, is its denial of any independent orself-subsistent status fo r morality. Man does no t have access to any first principles of practical reason which would give a truly moral basis fo r morality."[T]he first principles of a ct io n a nd therefore also of politics [must be] suppliedby theoretical reason or natural science: it is natural science which m ak es c le arwhat th e en d of ma n is." The end of m an as ma n is "the perfection of hismind."The function of practical reason will be deliberation concerning how in anygiven circumstances one can best conduct one's life so as to become perfect asa ma n of speculation. Virtue will continue to be an important concern fo r th ephi losopher , bo th for th e ordering of his own life toward contemplation an d fo rthe ordering of society. "But ... if these virtues are understood only as subservient to philosophy and fo r its sake, then that is no longer a m oral understandingof th e virtues."trauss paraphrases a passage from Nietzsche's Genealogy ofMorals to make the Platonic teaching clear: Nietzsche compared the instrumenta l asceticism of th e philosopher to "the asceticism of a jockey, wh o in order towin a race must live very restrainedly, but that is wholly unimportant to thejockey, what is important is to win the race."29

The feature tha t identifies this teaching as the uniquely Platonic politicalphilosophy is that, in th e most perfect case conceivable, th e lawgiver or king orprophet who possesses th e political art in the highest degree is also a philosopher. Thus, the laws providing the best way of life flow from a mind that knowsthat the highest end of human nature lies in the quest fo r knowledge. Politicalphilosophy provides the absolutely essential context within which the Socraticanswer can be articulated and lived out.30

The distinction between the theoretical art and the practical art can perhapsmost instructively be understood as the distinction between "philosophy (asquest fo r the truth about the whole) and self-knowledge (as realization of theneed of that truth as well as of the difficulties obstructing its discovery andcommunication)" ("Farabi's Plato," p. 400). When the philosopher turns fromcontemplating the whatness of all beings to consider the world of opinions orbeliefs in which human beings actually live, he realizes (if he is a pupil ofSocrates) that he can only know that world by observing what is going on inhis own soul. His own soul-knowledge becomes the finely tuned instrument by


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 23means of which his understanding begins, as it were , from the cave floor andascends toward the purest light. Self-knowledge is th e origin of th e dialecticalart by which the philosophical investigation or questioning of opinion reachestoward knowledge of the whole. This turn of philosophy to ward th e humanthings proved Socrates the greatest psychologist in antiquity; it was he "whoexamined souls from the perspective of truth," that is, from the orientation toward truth which he discovered in his own soul.31

NOTES

1. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1953), hereafter NRH.2. See Leo Strauss, Persecution and the Art of Writing (Chicago: The University of ChicagoPress, 1988, first published 1952), p. 139.

3. Leo Strauss, "A Giving of Accounts," in Jewish Philosophy and the Crisis of Modernity:Essays and Lectures in Modern Jewish Thought," ed. Kenneth Hart Green (Albany: State Universityof New York Press, 1997), p. 465.

4. Cf. Leo Strauss, "Progress or Return?" in The Rebirth of Classical Political Rationalism: AnIntroduction to the Thought of Leo Strauss, ed. Thomas L. Pangle (Chicago: The University ofChicago Press, 1989), pp. 269-70. Strauss makes it clear that it is modem philosophy or sciencethat is vulnerable to th is reduction to an act of faith. Th is leaves unstated th e possibility that therewas an older philosophy or science that escaped this reduction. 1 th in k th e opening of th e secondchapter of Natural Right and History makes it clear that Socratic philosophy does avoid th e reduction to faith. I believe that it is in silent contradistinction to th e particular, Socratic approach tophilosophizing that Strauss prefaced th e passage just quoted with an enigmatic sentence: "And h erewhen I use the term philosophy, I use it in th e common and vague sense of th e term where itincludes any rational orientation in th e world , including science and what-have-you, commonsense."It is th e common or vague approach to philosophizing, th e approach that does not beginwith th e Socratic answer , that tends to reduce philosophy to an arbitrary cho ice , th e equivalent offaith.

5. "Strauss's quest takes th e form of a continuous descent in which we are compelled to abandonall hope as we spiral down in pursuit of th e basic problem of th e social sciences or th e mostfundamental disclosure of Weber's moral preferences."Robert Eden, "Why Wasn't Weber a Nihilist?" in The Crisis o f Libera l Democracy: A Straussian Perspective, ed. Kenneth L. Deutsch andWalter Soffer (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1987), p. 224. Eden's excellent essaytr ac e s th is descent to its penultimate step but fails to notice that Strauss takes th e argument downone further crucial step. The bottom is not historicism or fate; it is man's need for moral guidancein th e face of which Weber could offer no solution.

6. Max Weber, "Science as a Vocation," in From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology, trans, anded. H. H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills (New York: Oxford University Press, 1946), p. 142.

7. "How one becomes what one is" is th e subtitle of Nietzsche's autobiographical Ecce Homo,tra ns. R. J. Hollingdale (London: Penguin Books, 1979). Nietzsche answers th e question how onebecomes what one is in th e chapter "Why I Am So Clever," sec. 9. "That one becomes what oneis presupposes that one does not have th e least idea what one is." The danger of understandingoneself to o early is that it would preempt th e gradual process of th e revaluation of all values. If onesucceeds in becoming what one is, one will have gone beyond all ideals to affirm in perfect freedomwhat is. "My fo rmu la for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to beother than it is, not in th e future, not in th e past , not in all eternity. Not merely to endure thatwhich happens of necessity, still less to dissemble it all idealism is untruthfulness in th e face ofnecessity bu t to love it . . " (sec. 10).

8. For Weber, "the gods of th e various orders and values"are engaged in continuous struggle.


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24 InterpretationOne can never finally decide among their conflicting claims because "different gods struggle withone another, now and fo r all t imes to come.""Science as a Vocation," p. 148; see pp. 147-49.

9. One of th e three decisive qualities of th e poli t ician, along with responsibility and proportion,is "passion in th e sense ... of passionate devotion to a 'cause,' to the god or demon who is itsoverlord."Max Weber, "Politics as a Vocation," in From Max Weber, p. 115.

10. Cf. Strauss's summary of Georg Lukaks's critique of Max Weber's conception of socialscience: "Weber more than any other German scholar of his generation tried to save th e objectivityof social science; he believed that to do so required that social science be made 'value-free' becausehe assumed that evaluations are transrational or irrational; but th e value-free study of 'facts' andtheir causes admittedly presupposes th e selection of relevant facts; that selection is necessarilyguided by reference to values; th e values with reference to which th e facts are to be selected mustthemselves be selected; and that selection, which determines in th e last analysis th e specific conceptual framework of th e social scientist, is in principle arbitrary; hence social science is fundamentallyirrational orsubjectivistic."he Rebirth of Classical Political Rationalism, p. 19.

11. Leo Strauss, Liberalism Ancient and Modern (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1989),p. 250. This same maxim is rephrased in NRH, p. 57 .

12. Consider Weber's contrast of th e ethic of ultimate ends versus th e ethic of responsibility.The politician must make decisions based on a judgment about th e consequences they will have fo rth e nation. The pious must make decisions based on unconditional duties regardless of consequences. Thus, th e ethic of ultimate ends (enjoined by religion) is not reconcilable with th e ethic ofresponsibility required by politics. Weber, "Politics as a Vocation," pp. 122, 126, and see pp. 117-26. This passage would appear to put Weber's references to man's gods and demons in a new light:our demons consist in our attraction to th e exercise of political power ; our gods consist in ourreligious impulses. This formula offers no grounds fo r a reconciliation or even a modus vivendibetween religion and politics, love and violence. Indeed, it implies that any attempt to embodyreligious insight in political reality must end by subverting both politics and religion. Weber wouldseem to allow no place fo r prudence.

13. Strauss's translation "ethics of intention" corresponds to what our translation calls "ethicsof ultimate ends"; see NRH, p. 67 .

Thomas Aquinas solves this problem of reason and revelation by saying grace completes nature.Weber's dilemma was , by this argument , th e consequence of an erroneous theology. To make th econtrast between th e social scientist and th e saint even more pointed, we may recall that Weberoften said that belief in revelation entailed belief in th e absurd. Strauss may have had Aquinas inmind when he wondered wryly whether Weber's view "is compatible with an intelligent belief inrevelation"(NRH, p. 71). We must , for now, leave open th e question whether it is, in fact, reasonablethat human reason sometimes acknowledge th e suprarational insights of revelation.

14. According to this account , Weber exemplifies th e school of thought called historicism whichStrauss discussed in th e first chapter of Natural Right and History. Historicism leads to the conclusion that "the limitations of human thought are set by fate" (p . 21). "All human thought depends onfate, on something that thought cannot master and whose workings it cannot anticipate" (p . 27).

15. The term "vocation" arose in th e context of divine providence. Weber salvaged th e termfrom its apparently moribund theological context and applied it to th e individual's commitment toa way of life or callinghis leap in th e dark. Thus, fo r Weber, vocation remains ultimately in th eservice of th e gods. For a more extended statement of th e same dilemma, see Leo Strauss, "Progressor Return?" in An Introduction to Political Philosophy (Detroit: Wayne State University Press1989), pp. 285-89.

16. I am reminded of a passage describing th e art of esoteric writing in Strauss's book specifically devoted to expounding th e philosopher's art of writing: "For is not every sentence rich inpotential recesses? May not every noun be explained by a relative clause which may profoundlyaffect th e meaning of th e principal sentence and which, even if omitted by a careful writer, will beread by th e careful reader? Cannot miracles be wrought by such little words as 'almost,' 'perhaps,'' seeming ly'? May not a statement assume a different shade of meaning by being cast in th e formof a conditional sentence? And is it not possible to hide th e conditional nature of such a sentenceby turning it into a very long sentence and, in particular, by inserting into it a parenthesis of somelength?" Persecution and the Art of Writing, p. 78 .


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Spelunking in the Unnatural Cave 2517. Weber notes the attempts by th e higher religions to present their creeds in rationalized forms

and their appropriation of philosophical reasoning fo r use in systematic theology and apologetics.But he concludes: "There is absolutely no 'unbroken' religion working as a vital force which is notcompelled at some point to demand th e credo non quod , sed q ui a a bs ur du m th e 'sacrifice of th eintellect.' "

F rom Max Weber, p. 352.18. In an autobiographical passage, Strauss admits that as a young man: "I h ad b een particularlyimpressed, as many of th e contemporaries in Germany were , by Max Weber: by his intransigentdevotion to intellectual honesty, by his passionate devotion to th e idea of science a devotion thatwas c o mb in e d w it h a profound uneasiness regarding th e meaning of science.""A n Introduction toHeideggerian Existentialism," in The Rebirth o f Classical Political Rationalism, p. 27 . Strauss'scontemporary, Eric Voegelin, makes a strikingly similar test im onial: "If Weber nevertheless did notderail into some sort of r e la ti v is m o r anarch ism, that is because ... he was a staunch ethical character. ... So he knew what was right without knowing th e reasons for it." Autobiographical Reflections, ed. Ellis Sandoz (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1989), p. 12.

19. See the book review by Robert Eden, "A New Birth of Tragedy," The Review of Politics59, no. 2 (1997): 389-92.

20. Near th e end of his life, Strauss recalled how Heidegger a pp ea re d o n th e German academicscene like a flash of bril liant l ight at dusk. Strauss commented at th e tim e to Franz Rosenzweig that"compared to Heidegger, Max Weber, till then regarded by me as th e incarnation of th e spirit ofscience and scholarship, was an orphan child.""A Giving of Accounts," in Jewish Philosophy an dthe Crisis of Modernity, p. 461. Cf. Strauss, "A n Introduction to Heideggerean Existentialism," inThe Rebirth ofClassical Political Rationalism, p. 28.

21 . Laurence Berns, "The Presc ientif ic World and Historicism: Some Reflections on Strauss,Heidegger, and Husserl," in Leo Strauss's Thought: Toward a Critical Engagement, ed. Alan Udoff(Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1991), p. 177. One may speculate whether th e late-twentieth-centurymovement in favor of "global civil society"is, at bottom, inspired by Heidegger.

22. Leo Strauss, On Tyranny, ed. Victor Gourevitch and Michael S. Roth (New York : The FreePress, 1991), pp. 58-59.

23. Weber's separation of values from any possible basis in nature is in line with th e modernnotion o f m an 's freedom as self-legislation. This, th e essence of postmodern ethics, is thought to berequired by a nonteleological science of nature (Berns, "The Prescientific World and Historicism," p.174). This appears to be Strauss's meaning in a difficult passage (NRH, pp. 48-49) in which hementions a n o th e r p o ssib l e interpretation of Weber's imperative "Become what thou art": "Accordingto this interpretation, Weber rejected o bj ec ti ve n or ms because objective norm s are incompatiblewith human freedom or with th e possibility of acting."Strauss neither approves nor expands thisinterpretation.

24. Outwardly in his public profession of scientific objectivity, Weber refused to subscribe toany sect or "ism." In this respect, Weber was one of Nietzsche's "scholars or scientists"subservientsolely to philosophy. All his life Weber severely restrained any impulse he might have felt toindulge th e ecstasy of th e "poets or th e homines religiosi"trauss, Studies in Platonic PoliticalPhilosophy (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1983), p. 186. My point is th at th e core ofWeber's teaching makes such a refusal impossible; even dedication to science involves becomingwhat one is by choosing one's god or demon.

25. "Not only has rationality disappeared from th e behavior studied by science; th e rationalityo f t hat study itself has become radically problematic. All coherence has gone. We are then entitledto say that positivistic science in general , and therefore p o si ti v ist ic so ci a l science in particular, ischaracterized by the abandonment of reason or th e f light from reason. The flight from scientificreason, which has been noted with regret, is th e reasonable reply to th e flight of science fromreason."Strauss, "'Relativism'," in The Rebirth of Classical Political Rationalism, pp. 18-19.

26. The precondition fo r practice of Nietzsche's gay science is that o ne s ho ul d be able to "laughout of the whole truth" when "the comedy of

existence"ill have " 'become conscious'of itself;"i.e., when man will have left behind th e age of religion, morali ty , and tragedy. Gay science laughsat all tragedians, all th e teachers of purpose, all propounders of a truth. It is inevitable that everydogma will be overcome by laughter, reason, and nature. (Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science,trans. Walter Kaufmann [New York: Vintage Books, 1974], p. 74). Nietzsche also tells us that


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26 Interpretationmankind in th e age of Christianity (o r Platonism fo r the people) was like a sleeper in th e grip of anightmare. The present age, characterized by th e final overcoming of Christianity, promises anexuberant wakefulness fo r those few fre e spirits, like Nietzsche, and, fo r th e rest, at least a healthiersleep. (Beyond Good an d Evil, trans. R. J. Hollingdale [London: Penguin Books, 1973], p. 32).Standing behind Weber, we sense th e presence of Nietzsche as Strauss's true antagonist. AgainstNietzsche, Strauss observes that to see every teaching as only a partial perspective is to make oneselfnot a free spirit but a prisoner to th e typically late-modern perspective and, thus, unable to understand other teachings as they were meant or take them seriously. Strauss does not propound Nietzsche's gay science. On th e other hand, Strauss also repudiates Weber's assumption that philosophymust , a bo ve all else, answer th e question how we should live. Thus, Strauss is also not an advocateof "Christianity" wh o would inflict further nightmares on the world. The quiet sleep Strauss offersis perhaps th e fruit of political philosophy, which moderates (but never dreams that it can overcome)the opinions that a n im a te p o li ti ca l life.

27 . Strauss learned from Edmund Husserl th e wrongheadedness of m o de rn n at ur al science'sapproach to knowing nature. S ee Leo Strauss, "Philosophy as Rigorous Science and Political Philosophy,"in Studies in Platonic Political Philosophy, p. 35.

28 . Strauss's thinking is characterized by his refusal to take th e bird's-eye point of view. Muchof th e criticism or incomprehension of Leo Strauss derives, I think, from modern philosophy's long-ingrained habit of taking th e bird's-eye view.

29 . These remarks about th e lack of a moral basis fo r morality occur at th e point in an essaywhere Strauss clarifies th e tradition of Platonic political philosophy w hich a Christian Aristotelian,Marsilius of Padua, has r ec ei ve d v ia th e Arab Aristotelians. Leo Strauss, "Marsilius of Padua," inLiberalism Ancient an d Modem (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1989), p. 200. Strauss goes on toimply that Marsilius began th e degradation of this tradition by treating th e subordinate ends of th eactive, political life almost as though they were independent from th e tr ue human end of contemplat ion. In this way, Marsilius may be seen as transitional between th e political philosophy of Averroesand Hobbes; he retains contemplation as th e ultimate end, but he treats th e ordering of political lifealmost without reference to contemplation.

The paraphrase of Nietzsche is in "A Giving of Accounts," in Jewish Philosophy an d th e Crisisof Modernity, p. 465. In this public conversation with Jacob Klein. Strauss, speaking w i th u nu su aldirectness and in his own name, embraces th e tradition of Platonic political philosophy representedby Alfarabi, Averroes, and Maimonides, a tradition which interprets Aristotle's teaching on practicalr ea so n as fundamentally in harmony with Plato's reservation of tru th to th e activity of the speculative intelligence. Thus any claim concerning knowledge of th e good cannot be taken literally, butmust be interpreted as rhetoric or dismissed as ignorance.

30 . Leo Strauss, "Farabi'sPlato," in Essays in Medieval Jewish and Islamic Philosophy, ed.Arthur Hyman (New York: KTAV Publishing House, 1977), p. 400. Strauss is interpreting Alfara-

bi's interpretation of Plato, bu t I am fairly confident that this quotation also expresses Strauss's ownposition. He r ep ea ts m u ch th e same analysis in Persecution an d the Art of Writing, pp. 12-13.

31. Allan Bloom, Love and Friendship (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993), p. 263.


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Stanley Fish's Miltonic Interpretationof Martin Luther King

W ill iam WalkerUniversity of Canterbury

One of the many problems faced by the Miltonist Stanley Fish and othersupporters of affirmative action policies derives from something that was saidby one of the leaders of the American civil rights movement on an occasionwhich he thought was the greatest demonstration fo r freedom in the history ofhis nation. In his "I Have a Dream" speech, which he delivered before theLincoln Memor ia l in August 1963, Martin Luther King described the AmericanConstitution and the Declaration of Independence as th e nation's promise "thatall m en, y es, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed th e unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."1 Although Americaaccording to King, "in so fa r as her citizens of color are concerned,"had so fa rfailed to make good on this promise , he proceeded to affirm his hope and hisfaith that it would finally do so. He does this by describing his dream of howthings would be once this had happened in a series of sentences all beginningwith "I have a dream," one of which is the following: "I

interpretation, vol 27-1

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