Rabu, 24 April 2013

The Concept of Civil Society

There is in Western political philosophy a set of basic categories, which can be traced back to Aristotle, for distinguishing between government in terms of monarchy, democracy or despotism. While it is possible to approach these categories numerically, that is, by the one, few or many, one central element to the problem of government is the relationship between the state and the individual. For example, the notion of ‘despotism’ typically involves a spatial metaphor of the social system in which there is an institutional gap between the private individual and the public state. In despotism, the individual is fully exposed to the gaze of the despotic ruler, because there are no intervening social institutions, especially voluntary associations, lying between the ruler and the ruled.

The individual is completely displayed before the passion, caprice and will of the despot and there are, as it were, no social groups or institutions behind which the ruled may hide. The distance between the despot and the subject may be considerable, but the social space is not filled up with a rich growth of social groupings and institutions which could encapsulate the individual and within which separate interests could develop in opposition to the unified will of the despot.

By way of a preliminary definition, we may argue that despotism presupposes a society in which civil society is either absent or underdeveloped. A definition of ‘civil society’ is that a prolific network of institutions—church, family, club, guild, association and community—lies between the state and the individual, and which simultaneously connects the individual to authority and protects the individual from total political control. The notion of ‘civil society’ is not only fundamental to the definition of political life in European societies, but is also a point of contrast between Occident and Orient.

In the Scottish Enlightenment tradition, the emergence of civil society was regarded as a major indication of social progress from the state of nature to civilization. The theory of civil society was part of the master dichotomy of nature/civilization, since it was within civil society that the individual was eventually clothed in judicial rights of property, possessions and security. In Hegel’s social philosophy, civil society mediates between the family and the state; it is constituted by the economic intercourse between individuals. The Hegelian conceptualization of ‘civil society’ in terms of economic relationships was the source of so much confusion in subsequent Marxist analysis in that it became difficult to locate civil society unambiguously in the metaphor of economic base and superstructures. For Marx, Civil Society embraces the whole material intercourse of individuals within a definite stage of the development of productive forces.

It embraces the whole commercial and industrial life of a given stage and, in so far, transcends the State and nation, though, on the other hand again, it must assert itself in its foreign relations as nationality and inwardly must organise itself as a state. (Marx and Engels 1953:76) Since Marx was primarily interested in the theoretical analysis of the capitalist mode of production, it has subsequently been difficult for Marxists to determine the precise relationship between civil society/state, on the one hand, and to analyse such sociological concepts as ‘family’, ‘church’, ‘community’, or ‘tribe’ on the other. One solution, of course, is to treat this area of social life as explicable in purely economic terms; the primary divisions within society are those between classes, which in turn are explained by the mode of production (Poulantzas 1973).

The difficulties of locating civil society in relation to the economy and the state are exemplified by some recent debates over Antonio Gramsci’s analysis of the concept (Anderson 1974). In a famous passage, Gramsci commented that, ‘Between the economic structure and the state with its legislation and its coercion stands civil society’ (Gramsci 1971). In Gramsci’s writing, civil society is the arena within which ideological hegemony and political consent are engineered, and it therefore contrasts with the state, which is the site of political force and coercion. Such a conception complicates the more conventional Marxist dichotomy of base superstructure, but there is much dissensus over exactly where Gramsci places his theoretical emphasis (Anderson 1977).

While there is much disagreement over the extent of hegemonic consent in modern capitalism, it is interesting to note that Gramsci’s conceptualization of ‘civil society’ was important for his view that political strategies were relevant in relation to the extent of coercion and consent in society. Gramsci made a basic distinction between the West, in which there is widespread consensus based on civil society, and the East, where the state dominates society and where coercion is more important than consensus. Speaking specifically of Russia, Gramsci argued that: the state was everything, civil society was primordial and gelatinous; in the West, there was a proper relationship between state and civil society, and when the state trembled a sturdy structure of civil society was at once revealed. The state was only an outer ditch, behind which there stood a powerful system of fortresses and earthworks. (Gramsci 1971:238)

Where civil society is relatively underdeveloped in relationship to the state, political coercion of individuals is the basis of class rule rather than ideological consent which characterizes the bourgeois institutions of Western capitalism. Liberal political theory, while clearly fundamentally different in outlook and conclusions, has often approached the East/West, and coercion/consent dichotomies in somewhat similar terms, especially in terms of the notion of constitutional checks and balances.

In The Spirit of the Laws (Montesquieu 1949) written in 1748, Montesquieu distinguished between republics, monarchies and despotisms in terms of their guiding principles which were respectively virtue, honour and fear (Montesquieu 1949). The main differences between monarchy and despotism were: (1) while monarchy is based on the inequality of social strata, in despotism there is an equality of slavery where the mass of the population is subject to the ruler’s arbitrary will; (2) in monarchy, the ruler follows customs and laws, whereas a despot dominates according to his own inclination; (3) in despotism, there are no intermediary social institutions linking the individual to the state. In an earlier work, Considerations on the Causes of the Greatness of the Romans and Their Decline, Montesquieu had been particularly concerned with the problems of centralization in the Roman Empire and with the transformation of republics into monarchies (Montesquieu 1965).

Montesquieu, who was profoundly influenced by Locke and English constitutional history, came to see the divisions of powers and constitutional checks on centralized authority as the principal guarantee of political rights. His Persian Letters (Montesquieu 1923) permitted him to write a critical
review of French society through the eyes of oriental observers; it has subsequently not been clear whether Montesquieu’s definition of and objections to the despotism of the East were, in fact, directed against the French polity, especially against the absolute monarchy (Althusser 1972).

Emile Durkheim, whose Latin dissertation on Montesquieu and Rousseau was published in 1892, came to see the problem of modern political life not in the effects of the division of labour on common sentiments, but in the absence of regulating institutions between the individual and the state. The decline of the Church, the weakness of the family, the loss of communal ties and the underdevelopment of occupational and professional associations had dissolved those important social relations which shielded the individual from the state. Unlike Herbert Spencer, however, Durkheim did not believe that the extension of state functions in contemporary society necessarily resulted in political absolutism.

Durkheim in his ‘two laws of penal evolution’ defined absolutism in the following terms: what makes the central power more or less absolute is the more or less radical absence of any countervailing forces, regularly organised with a view toward moderating it. We can, therefore, foresee that what gives birth to a power of this sort is the more or less complete concentration of all society’s controlling functions in one and the same hand. (Durkheim 1978)

While Durkheim does not specifically employ the term, in the light of his reference to the importance of ‘countervailing forces,’ it is not illegitimate or inappropriate to suggest that Durkheim’s argument is that the weakness of civil society, situated between the individual and the state, is a general condition for political absolutism. This French tradition in the political sociology of absolutism from Montesquieu to Durkheim cannot be properly understood without some consideration of the debate which arose in France over the nature of enlightened government. What we now refer to as ‘enlightened despotism’ or ‘enlightened absolutism’ first arose as an intellectual and political issue in France in the 1760s partly as the result of the doctrines of the Physiocrats (Hartung 1957).

The terms favoured by the Physiocrats were ‘Despotisme eclaire’ and ‘Despotisme legal’. For example, T.G.Raynal provided a definition of good government as ‘Le gouvernement le plus heureaux serait celui d’un despote juste et eclaire’ in his history of trade with the West and East Indies. In their economic doctrines, the Physiocrats adhered to laissez-faire policies to free the economy and the individual from the unnatural fetters which constrained efficiency and economic output. However, society was not free from such artificial constraints and it was necessary for radical changes to be brought about by ‘Despotisme eclaire’. The Physiocrats took for granted that such a despotism would be in the hands of an hereditary monarchy which would rationally sweep aside the artificial clutter of the past to restore the natural order of individual freedom. The despot had a duty to force people to be free by a rational policy of education and social reform.

The debate about the virtues of forms of government was generated not only by absolutism in the late eighteenth century but also by the rise of colonialism in the nineteenth. Colonial administrators were forced to decide upon schemes of imperial control for the new dependencies. Raynal’s use of the notion of ‘legal despotism’ is interesting in the context of a discussion of the colonies. Utilitarian commentaries on political organization in Britain were similarly set in the context of criticisms of British government by an hereditary aristocracy and in terms of the colonial administration in India. The utilitarians were concerned both with the problem of the working class and parliamentarian government in Britain and with the question of the government of Indian natives Thus, James Mill’s The History of British India was driven in particular by the question of native despotism and government reform. He observed that: Among the Hindus, according to the Asiatic model, the government was monarchical, and, with the usual exception of religion and its ministers, absolute. No idea of any system of rule, different from the will of a single person, appears to have entered the minds of them, or their legislators. (Mill 1972:212–3)

For Mill, there was a social hiatus between the traditional, all-embracing life of the Indian village and the outer, public world of kingdoms. The constant break-up of the latter contrasted with the social isolation and stagnation of the former. The principal political solution to this static despotism was a dose of ‘Despotisme eclaire’, that is, strong central government, benevolent laws, modernized administration and a redistribution of land rights. In many respects, John Stuart Mill followed his father’s line of argument both about political reform in Britain and colonial government. J.S.Mill’s basic fear was focused on the effects of majority rule in popular democracies on the life and conscience of the educated and sensitive individual.

This fear had been greatly confirmed by the more pessimistic aspects of Alexis de Tocqueville’s analysis of American political institutions in Democracy in America, which Mill read in 1835 (de Tocqueville 1946). According to de Tocqueville, majority rule on the basis of universal franchise could result in a sterile consensus which was inimicable to individuality and individual rights. The only check to the despotism of the majority would be the existence of strong voluntary associations (that is, civil society) protecting the individual from majority control and protecting diversity of interests and culture. Without safeguards, democracy would produce in Britain the same sterility which tradition had brought about in Asia, namely social stagnation. Mill’s fears were consequently, ‘not of great liberty, but too ready submission; not of anarchy, but of servility; not of too rapid change, but of Chinese stationariness’ (Mill 1859:56).

In the case of colonial rule, however, the choice was between two types of despotism: native or imperial. Native despotism was always arbitrary In Western sociological accounts of Islamic societies, it has been argued that, because of the absence of a ‘spirit of capitalism’ in the middle class, trade in most Islamic societies was dominated historically by minorities (Greeks, Jews, Armenians and Slavs). Recent sociological studies of Islam have continued this tradition by suggesting that in the absence of the entrepreneurial spirit and achievement, motivation was linked to the underdeveloped nature of the middle class in Islam (Bonne 1960; Lerner 1958; McClelland 1961).

The absence of a civil society in Islam and the weakness of bourgeois culture in relation to the state apparatus have been associated, in the orientalist problematic, not only with the backwardness of economic development, but also with political despotism. There is a common viewpoint among political scientists that there is no established tradition of legitimate opposition to arbitrary governments in Islam, because the notions of political rights and social contract had no institutional support in an independent middle class (Vatikiotis 1975). However, the orientalist theme of the absence of a civil society extends well beyond the area of economics and politics. The scientific and artistic culture of Islam is treated as the monopoly of the imperial court which, within the ‘city camp’, patronized the emergence of a rational culture in opposition to the religion of the masses.

The union of science and industry which was characteristic of the English Protestant middle classes in the nineteenth century was noticeably absent in Islamic culture. Ernest Renan, in a forthright commentary on Islam and science, suggested that, ‘the Mussulman has the most profound disdain for instruction, for science, for everything that constitutes the European spirit’ (Renan 1896:85). For Renan, science could only flourish in Islam in association with heresy. While Renan’s highly prejudicial attitudes are rarely articulated in an overt fashion in contemporary oriental scholarship, the same arguments concerning elitist patronage of arts and sciences in the absence of a middle class are constantly repeated. This perspective is normally conjoined with the notion that science in Islam was merely parasitic on Greek culture and that Islam was simply a vehicle transmitting Greek philosophy to the Renaissance in Europe (O’Leary 1949). The deficiencies of Islamic society, politics, economics and culture, are, in orientalism, located in the problem of an absent civil society.

Jalaluddin Rumi, Penyair Sufi Terbesar dari Konya-Persia

          Dua orang bertengkar sengit di suatu jalan di Konya. Mereka saling memaki, “O, laknat, jika kau mengucapkan sepatah makian terh...