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Liberalism in Dark Times: The Liberal Ethos in the Twentieth Century
A timely defense of liberalism that draws vital lessons from its greatest midcentury proponents
Today, liberalism faces threats from across the political spectrum. While right-wing populists and leftist purists righteously violate liberal norms, theorists of liberalism seem to have little to say. In Liberalism in Dark Times, Joshua Cherniss issues a rousing defense of the liberal tradition, drawing on a neglected strand of liberal thought.
Assaults on liberalism―a political order characterized by limits on political power and respect for individual rights―are nothing new. Early in the twentieth century, democracy was under attack around the world, with one country after another succumbing to dictatorship. While many intellectuals dismissed liberalism as outdated, unrealistic, or unworthy, a handful of writers defended and reinvigorated the liberal ideal, including Max Weber, Raymond Aron, Albert Camus, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Isaiah Berlin―each of whom is given a compelling new assessment here.
Building on the work of these thinkers, Cherniss urges us to imagine liberalism not as a set of policies but as a temperament or disposition―one marked by openness to complexity, willingness to acknowledge uncertainty, tolerance for difference, and resistance to ruthlessness. In the face of rising political fanaticism, he persuasively argues for the continuing importance of this liberal ethos.
Today, liberalism faces threats from across the political spectrum. While right-wing populists and leftist purists righteously violate liberal norms, theorists of liberalism seem to have little to say. In Liberalism in Dark Times, Joshua Cherniss issues a rousing defense of the liberal tradition, drawing on a neglected strand of liberal thought.
Assaults on liberalism―a political order characterized by limits on political power and respect for individual rights―are nothing new. Early in the twentieth century, democracy was under attack around the world, with one country after another succumbing to dictatorship. While many intellectuals dismissed liberalism as outdated, unrealistic, or unworthy, a handful of writers defended and reinvigorated the liberal ideal, including Max Weber, Raymond Aron, Albert Camus, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Isaiah Berlin―each of whom is given a compelling new assessment here.
Building on the work of these thinkers, Cherniss urges us to imagine liberalism not as a set of policies but as a temperament or disposition―one marked by openness to complexity, willingness to acknowledge uncertainty, tolerance for difference, and resistance to ruthlessness. In the face of rising political fanaticism, he persuasively argues for the continuing importance of this liberal ethos.
328 pages, Hardcover
First published October 5, 2021
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March 17, 2022
Very compelling study of the liberal ethos and some critical thinkers in the mid-2oth century period of liberalism in the Western world. Cherniss takes an interesting approach to the study of intellectual history and political theory: rather than focus on formal doctrine, chains of logic, and disembodied ideas, he looks at how liberal thinkers developed an ethos. This is a tricky thing to define, but it roughly refers to a style of self-presentation, a personal discipline, and character; it is separate from ideas in the sense that it's the way one tries to connect how one lives and interacts with others to one's ideological commitments.
Cherniss argues that the core challenge for liberalism in the mid-20th century (or the liberal predicament) was how to deal with the problem of ruthlessness. Liberals faced domestic and international opponents on the left and right that both embraced political ruthlessness, or the willingness to shed massive amounts of blood and destroy norms and institutions in the name of ideology or national greatness. The ideologically ruthless of rival forms of totalitarianism believed they had some kind of theory that explained the course of history, society, the economy, etc and would lead to some kind of utopia. Many of them and their ideological apologists argued for political realism (think Carl Schmitt, I think), or the idea that morality has no place in the political realm. What unified this threat was their mutual loathing of liberalism, which they saw as weak, soft, lacking in purpose, unable to ameliorate human suffering, and a form of national or cultural suicide.
Cherniss examines how liberals like Weber, Aron, Camus, Niebuhr, and Berlin developed not just a set of ideas but an overlapping ethos to alter and strengthen liberalism in response to an age of ruthlessness. He doesn't so much spell out their ideas as their approaches to intellectual and political life. The liberal ethos has a few key elements. 1. Humility and self-doubt: it was in part the absolute certainty of the totalitarians that enabled them to do horrible things, so these liberals always interrogated their own ideas and kept in mind that they could also do horrible things. Niebuhr was especially big on this point. 2. A focus on human beings rather than abstractions. Communists, fascists, and others talked about human beings in terms of huge categories: ubermenschen, kulaks, bouregeoisie, imperialists, etc. These abstractions became justifications for atrocities, as murdering "the kulaks" was a lot easier than murdering individual human beings. These liberals always focused on the human beings beneath the categories and were not willing to justify violence against present people in the name of future goods. 3. A personal style that embraced complexity, qualification, and openness to alternative viewpoints. 4. A skepticism of pacifism and other forms of idealism. The reality of this era was that if liberalism and liberals were not willing to fight and die for their beliefs, they would be extinguished by the fanatics of both sides. That's why most of these figures reconciled themselves to the use of U.S. (and other democracies) power against fascists or communists, as in Niebuhr's support for the US in the Cold War. 5. A continued devotion to incremental justice. Utopia may not be possible or even desirable, but these liberals believed that constant work toward a more just and humane society was necessary if pursued within constitutional and ethical boundaries.
Probably the most insightful point in this book is the inseparability of means and ends in politics. A marker of political ruthlessness was the ambivalence toward means as long as they advanced certain ends. That was a recipe for atrocity over and over again. Instead, these liberals believed that means must be restrained and mostly humane, although there would have to be some exceptions. Corrupted means would undermine and distort ends while undermining norms that we need for a humane life. For example, these liberals held that to become like the totalitarians as they fought against them ( McCarthyism, for example) was to lose even if you defeated the totalitarians. The enemy was totalitarianism per se, whether that was a foreign state or our own society. This is a key check against the human tendency to self-righteousness and the desire for certainty.
Cherniss differentiates these "chastened liberals" from other strains of liberalism in a mostly successful attempt to delineate a new strand. In my own work, I called these folks the Vital Center liberals, borrowing from Arthur Schlesinger Jr.. Cherniss' description works just as well IMO.These liberals were less optimistic about reform and human nature than the earlier generation of progressives. They were more introspective, moderate, and restrained than the New Left that emerged to challenge them and that has often embraced illiberal politics. They were also different from Shklar liberalism of fear because they believed human societies could rationally and consciously move toward greater humanity, equality, and freedom as long as they did so carefully and without sacrificing any group. I personally find this strain of liberalism fascinating, and it was great to hear Cherniss' explication of them.
However, the book has some flaws, most of which are stylistic. Cherniss' writing style is highly academic, sometimes elliptical, and often ornate. Some of the book feels like a slog to get through. He assumes a solid amount of background knowledge about these figures and the history of this time period. Moreover, while the liberal ethos emerges vividly from this book, the main characters still feel a bit two-dimensional. I would have liked to see more color and biography along with the theory and history, kind of like in Barry Gewen's book on Kissinger and his main intellectual influences. All of these factors' limit this book's appeal to academics, but those studying liberalism in any capacity should check out this book, a stirring mix of political commentary and history.
Cherniss argues that the core challenge for liberalism in the mid-20th century (or the liberal predicament) was how to deal with the problem of ruthlessness. Liberals faced domestic and international opponents on the left and right that both embraced political ruthlessness, or the willingness to shed massive amounts of blood and destroy norms and institutions in the name of ideology or national greatness. The ideologically ruthless of rival forms of totalitarianism believed they had some kind of theory that explained the course of history, society, the economy, etc and would lead to some kind of utopia. Many of them and their ideological apologists argued for political realism (think Carl Schmitt, I think), or the idea that morality has no place in the political realm. What unified this threat was their mutual loathing of liberalism, which they saw as weak, soft, lacking in purpose, unable to ameliorate human suffering, and a form of national or cultural suicide.
Cherniss examines how liberals like Weber, Aron, Camus, Niebuhr, and Berlin developed not just a set of ideas but an overlapping ethos to alter and strengthen liberalism in response to an age of ruthlessness. He doesn't so much spell out their ideas as their approaches to intellectual and political life. The liberal ethos has a few key elements. 1. Humility and self-doubt: it was in part the absolute certainty of the totalitarians that enabled them to do horrible things, so these liberals always interrogated their own ideas and kept in mind that they could also do horrible things. Niebuhr was especially big on this point. 2. A focus on human beings rather than abstractions. Communists, fascists, and others talked about human beings in terms of huge categories: ubermenschen, kulaks, bouregeoisie, imperialists, etc. These abstractions became justifications for atrocities, as murdering "the kulaks" was a lot easier than murdering individual human beings. These liberals always focused on the human beings beneath the categories and were not willing to justify violence against present people in the name of future goods. 3. A personal style that embraced complexity, qualification, and openness to alternative viewpoints. 4. A skepticism of pacifism and other forms of idealism. The reality of this era was that if liberalism and liberals were not willing to fight and die for their beliefs, they would be extinguished by the fanatics of both sides. That's why most of these figures reconciled themselves to the use of U.S. (and other democracies) power against fascists or communists, as in Niebuhr's support for the US in the Cold War. 5. A continued devotion to incremental justice. Utopia may not be possible or even desirable, but these liberals believed that constant work toward a more just and humane society was necessary if pursued within constitutional and ethical boundaries.
Probably the most insightful point in this book is the inseparability of means and ends in politics. A marker of political ruthlessness was the ambivalence toward means as long as they advanced certain ends. That was a recipe for atrocity over and over again. Instead, these liberals believed that means must be restrained and mostly humane, although there would have to be some exceptions. Corrupted means would undermine and distort ends while undermining norms that we need for a humane life. For example, these liberals held that to become like the totalitarians as they fought against them ( McCarthyism, for example) was to lose even if you defeated the totalitarians. The enemy was totalitarianism per se, whether that was a foreign state or our own society. This is a key check against the human tendency to self-righteousness and the desire for certainty.
Cherniss differentiates these "chastened liberals" from other strains of liberalism in a mostly successful attempt to delineate a new strand. In my own work, I called these folks the Vital Center liberals, borrowing from Arthur Schlesinger Jr.. Cherniss' description works just as well IMO.These liberals were less optimistic about reform and human nature than the earlier generation of progressives. They were more introspective, moderate, and restrained than the New Left that emerged to challenge them and that has often embraced illiberal politics. They were also different from Shklar liberalism of fear because they believed human societies could rationally and consciously move toward greater humanity, equality, and freedom as long as they did so carefully and without sacrificing any group. I personally find this strain of liberalism fascinating, and it was great to hear Cherniss' explication of them.
However, the book has some flaws, most of which are stylistic. Cherniss' writing style is highly academic, sometimes elliptical, and often ornate. Some of the book feels like a slog to get through. He assumes a solid amount of background knowledge about these figures and the history of this time period. Moreover, while the liberal ethos emerges vividly from this book, the main characters still feel a bit two-dimensional. I would have liked to see more color and biography along with the theory and history, kind of like in Barry Gewen's book on Kissinger and his main intellectual influences. All of these factors' limit this book's appeal to academics, but those studying liberalism in any capacity should check out this book, a stirring mix of political commentary and history.
March 30, 2022
Every once in a while we stumble into a book that seems tailor-made for the occasion. Over the Christmas holiday, I bought this book, having recently read a favorable review of it. (I don't recall where, alas.) And given that my reading list remains backed up for years (and I fear well beyond any reasonable hope of clearing in my lifetime), I could have chosen to start any number of worthy books. But I chose this one. Why? I can't say for sure, but in looking back, I believe that the invasion of Ukraine by the Putin regime, along with the continuing threat of Trump and his ilk, played a role. But by whatever prompt, I'm very pleased that I selected and read this book. It is, as I referenced above, tailor-made for the times.
I also selected this book because I recognized the names of those whose thought it explores: Max Weber, Albert Camus, Raymond Aron, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Isaiah Berlin, along with many other figures discussed or cited in this book. I sometimes rue that education--my education-- was wasted on my callow youth, but--take heart teachers--sometimes planting a seed, even if it takes decades to fully bloom, brings about the desired blossom. Professor and instructors in the departments of History and Political Science introduced me to all of these thinkers, if not by direct assignment, then by reference. Indeed, the subtitle of this book refers to “dark times,” a term deployed by one of their peers, Hannah Arendt, which, along with the idea of a "time of troubles" were introduced to me as a student. When I think back, the 70s were not an easy time. American politics had to deal with the social and political turmoil of the 60s and the continuing competition between the liberal democratic regimes and the Marxist camps. Also, we experienced Watergate, the Vietnam War, and continuing forms of political unrest through much of the world. And the totalitarian threat remained real. Stalin had only died the year of my birth, while Mao still ruled in China. Thus, the thinker-actors considered in this book were all still quite topical in the 1970s.
In addition to a thorough and considered examination of the legacy of these thinkers, Cherniss deploys a vocabulary that resonated deeply with me. Ethos, ethics, stance, posture, dirty hands, ruthlessness, and other such terms were prominent in the final political theory course I took as an undergraduate. (Hat tip to Professor (then Instructor) John S. Nelson for this class.) From where I am now, and in accord with Cherniss's argument, I find that these terms, these concerns, this mode of addressing the world of politics, goes to the very heart of the political enterprise. Not that laws, institutions, policies, and such don't count. They do. However, politics is a very human endeavor marked by speech and thus persuasion. Violence, the negation of politics, always lurks in the background, and one must understand that war (violence) isn't the continuation of politics by other means, but the cessation of politics, which comes about when politics fails. Thus, political leaders must contend not only with the plurality of views and words, but they must deal with violence or the threat of violence. There are, of course, political leaders, who, like Mao, believe political power emanates from the barrel of a gun. And some who wield the power of government believe that the utopian ends often justify ruthless means. This “realism” led to some of the greatest atrocities known to humankind. Terms like “war crimes” and “crimes against humanity” seem too sterile when addressing the horror perpetrated by individuals and regimes in the twentieth century, but we must start somewhere.
In brief, all of these individuals opposed ruthless individuals and regimes and those who claimed to be only “realistic” and were excessively “Machiavellian.” (Poor Niccolò, I think, gets a bum rap with this usage, but the usage remains as if written in stone into our political vocabulary.). Cherniss provides detailed expositions of the thought of Camus, Aron, Niebuhr, and Berlin. (The consideration of Weber is less detailed, and Cherniss includes Gyorgy Lukacs as a foil to Weber's outlook.) Cherniss dubs these five thinkers, and others of their perspective, as “tempered liberals.” (With some hesitation expressed about Weber's bona fides as a liberal.) That is, these thinkers attempt to walk the tightrope between naïveté and excessive “realism” and “Machiavellianism.” They do so by attention to persons and situations, and they recognize the reality of competing values and goods. They tend to particular observations and appraisals, and they shy away from systems of thought and purely logical conclusions. They tend to write essays instead of tomes. They work to avoid suffering while recognizing that sacrifices often prove necessary. As one reads about each of these figures, one can see from our current position that they didn't always get things right (to the extent that we can identify what's right). But overall, they provided markers against which political actions could be appropriately judged.
I should note that Weber's distinction between the “ethic of ultimate ends” and the “ethics of responsibility” is an insight and a guide that has been with me for a long time. And I never seem to go very long without thinking about the hard decisions political officials must make, such as whether to take half a loaf or none in regard to some legislation. Or whether to rest with some evil for the sake of peace or decide that some good merits the sacrifice of lives. So also with the work of Reinhold Niebuhr, perhaps the thinker amongst these five of whom I've read the most and the deepest. Like Weber and the others, Niebuhr walks a tightrope between realism (which include a theological position grounded in original sin) and the need for justice. And while Weber and Niebuhr have provided the greatest influence on my thinking from amongst these five, Cherniss's work prompts me to want to explore Camus, Aron, and Berlin in more depth. I realize that as much as I appreciate and admire Cherniss's summary and exploration of their work, his exposition points to the depth of what he's exploring. He allows me to see that there's much more in each of these thinkers than what he can share in a chapter.
Finally, I asked myself: “Is this a work of history or of political theory?” The answer, I suggest, is that it's both. And that is as it should be. All political thought of lasting interest arises from the politics of the age in which it is produced. To understand concerns with ethos, ethics, dirty hands, stances, and the like is to be of a time. As throughout the parade of human life, we live in a world that is at once unique in the fleeting now and yet that follows paths laid down by generations before us. History provides a rough guide, but only a rough guide, a map of the terrain without the details. Thus, history provides a path to self-knowledge, both collectively and individually, but it doesn't provide a running commentary. We have to explore the sites on our own. And while history doesn't repeat itself, it does rhyme. (I know this is an old chestnut, a cliché, but it harbors too much truth to ignore.) Thus, while we are not repeating the 1930s, we can certainly discern its echoes as a land hungry dictator marches his armies without justification into a neighboring nation in Eastern Europe. And in the wider world, democracy and liberalism have been under attack and have seemed to wane. Even in the U.S., where fascist-style populism and authoritarianism threatened but was turned aside during the Great Depression, has recently experienced fascist-style populism allowed demagogue and wanna-be authoritarian to gain the presidency. And even as I write this little man (intellectually, morally) leads polls for the presidency despite the continuing revelation of his overtly criminal activities. So, yes, “tempered liberalism” is needed once again. We can't simply repeat the thoughts of these exemplars, but we can gain a great deal of wisdom and insight from their work, and we can hope that Joshua Cherniss continues to guide us in our quest.
I also selected this book because I recognized the names of those whose thought it explores: Max Weber, Albert Camus, Raymond Aron, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Isaiah Berlin, along with many other figures discussed or cited in this book. I sometimes rue that education--my education-- was wasted on my callow youth, but--take heart teachers--sometimes planting a seed, even if it takes decades to fully bloom, brings about the desired blossom. Professor and instructors in the departments of History and Political Science introduced me to all of these thinkers, if not by direct assignment, then by reference. Indeed, the subtitle of this book refers to “dark times,” a term deployed by one of their peers, Hannah Arendt, which, along with the idea of a "time of troubles" were introduced to me as a student. When I think back, the 70s were not an easy time. American politics had to deal with the social and political turmoil of the 60s and the continuing competition between the liberal democratic regimes and the Marxist camps. Also, we experienced Watergate, the Vietnam War, and continuing forms of political unrest through much of the world. And the totalitarian threat remained real. Stalin had only died the year of my birth, while Mao still ruled in China. Thus, the thinker-actors considered in this book were all still quite topical in the 1970s.
In addition to a thorough and considered examination of the legacy of these thinkers, Cherniss deploys a vocabulary that resonated deeply with me. Ethos, ethics, stance, posture, dirty hands, ruthlessness, and other such terms were prominent in the final political theory course I took as an undergraduate. (Hat tip to Professor (then Instructor) John S. Nelson for this class.) From where I am now, and in accord with Cherniss's argument, I find that these terms, these concerns, this mode of addressing the world of politics, goes to the very heart of the political enterprise. Not that laws, institutions, policies, and such don't count. They do. However, politics is a very human endeavor marked by speech and thus persuasion. Violence, the negation of politics, always lurks in the background, and one must understand that war (violence) isn't the continuation of politics by other means, but the cessation of politics, which comes about when politics fails. Thus, political leaders must contend not only with the plurality of views and words, but they must deal with violence or the threat of violence. There are, of course, political leaders, who, like Mao, believe political power emanates from the barrel of a gun. And some who wield the power of government believe that the utopian ends often justify ruthless means. This “realism” led to some of the greatest atrocities known to humankind. Terms like “war crimes” and “crimes against humanity” seem too sterile when addressing the horror perpetrated by individuals and regimes in the twentieth century, but we must start somewhere.
In brief, all of these individuals opposed ruthless individuals and regimes and those who claimed to be only “realistic” and were excessively “Machiavellian.” (Poor Niccolò, I think, gets a bum rap with this usage, but the usage remains as if written in stone into our political vocabulary.). Cherniss provides detailed expositions of the thought of Camus, Aron, Niebuhr, and Berlin. (The consideration of Weber is less detailed, and Cherniss includes Gyorgy Lukacs as a foil to Weber's outlook.) Cherniss dubs these five thinkers, and others of their perspective, as “tempered liberals.” (With some hesitation expressed about Weber's bona fides as a liberal.) That is, these thinkers attempt to walk the tightrope between naïveté and excessive “realism” and “Machiavellianism.” They do so by attention to persons and situations, and they recognize the reality of competing values and goods. They tend to particular observations and appraisals, and they shy away from systems of thought and purely logical conclusions. They tend to write essays instead of tomes. They work to avoid suffering while recognizing that sacrifices often prove necessary. As one reads about each of these figures, one can see from our current position that they didn't always get things right (to the extent that we can identify what's right). But overall, they provided markers against which political actions could be appropriately judged.
I should note that Weber's distinction between the “ethic of ultimate ends” and the “ethics of responsibility” is an insight and a guide that has been with me for a long time. And I never seem to go very long without thinking about the hard decisions political officials must make, such as whether to take half a loaf or none in regard to some legislation. Or whether to rest with some evil for the sake of peace or decide that some good merits the sacrifice of lives. So also with the work of Reinhold Niebuhr, perhaps the thinker amongst these five of whom I've read the most and the deepest. Like Weber and the others, Niebuhr walks a tightrope between realism (which include a theological position grounded in original sin) and the need for justice. And while Weber and Niebuhr have provided the greatest influence on my thinking from amongst these five, Cherniss's work prompts me to want to explore Camus, Aron, and Berlin in more depth. I realize that as much as I appreciate and admire Cherniss's summary and exploration of their work, his exposition points to the depth of what he's exploring. He allows me to see that there's much more in each of these thinkers than what he can share in a chapter.
Finally, I asked myself: “Is this a work of history or of political theory?” The answer, I suggest, is that it's both. And that is as it should be. All political thought of lasting interest arises from the politics of the age in which it is produced. To understand concerns with ethos, ethics, dirty hands, stances, and the like is to be of a time. As throughout the parade of human life, we live in a world that is at once unique in the fleeting now and yet that follows paths laid down by generations before us. History provides a rough guide, but only a rough guide, a map of the terrain without the details. Thus, history provides a path to self-knowledge, both collectively and individually, but it doesn't provide a running commentary. We have to explore the sites on our own. And while history doesn't repeat itself, it does rhyme. (I know this is an old chestnut, a cliché, but it harbors too much truth to ignore.) Thus, while we are not repeating the 1930s, we can certainly discern its echoes as a land hungry dictator marches his armies without justification into a neighboring nation in Eastern Europe. And in the wider world, democracy and liberalism have been under attack and have seemed to wane. Even in the U.S., where fascist-style populism and authoritarianism threatened but was turned aside during the Great Depression, has recently experienced fascist-style populism allowed demagogue and wanna-be authoritarian to gain the presidency. And even as I write this little man (intellectually, morally) leads polls for the presidency despite the continuing revelation of his overtly criminal activities. So, yes, “tempered liberalism” is needed once again. We can't simply repeat the thoughts of these exemplars, but we can gain a great deal of wisdom and insight from their work, and we can hope that Joshua Cherniss continues to guide us in our quest.
January 5, 2025
Liberalism can be difficult to get excited about. While most of us want constitutional protections built into our government, the protection of human rights, and democratic representation, these ideas don’t make for the most compelling political slogans. This is one of the problems that Joshua Cherniss, associate professor of government at Georgetown University, addresses in “Liberalism in Dark Times: The Liberal Ethos in the Twentieth Century” (Princeton University Press, 2022). He takes up five thinkers – Max Weber, Albert Camus, Raymond Aron, Reinhold Neibuhr, and Isaiah Berlin – and examines how they embody what Cherniss calls tempered liberalism.
For Cherniss, tempered liberalism is an approach to politics exercised through certain features of character and disposition embodied by intellectual modesty, openness to engage in good faith dialogues with those with whom you disagree, skepticism, pluralism, and moderation. This is not an exhaustive list of liberal principles. Still, it suggests an “ethics of politics” – not just a set of political goals or ideologies, but attitudes to be embodied while aiming for those goals. When tempered liberalism is put into practice, these attitudes serve as guardrails against illiberalism like the militant nationalism that contributed to World War I and the quick descent into totalitarianism that came a generation later.
All of Cherniss’s subjects react in different ways to the rise of political extremism, whether it’s Isaiah Berlin’s boyhood experience during the Russian Revolution of 1917, Camus’s boyhood in colonial French Algeria, or Aron’s bemusement at the growing hold Communism had on European intellectuals in the years following World War II. Unlike his friend and fellow Communist Jean-Paul Sartre whose Marxism was fanatical, Camus’s embrace of the epuration legal (the purge of French collaborationists after the fall of the Vichy government) was much more pragmatic.
Neibuhr is unique among Cherniss’s choices because an explicitly Christian moral framework undergirds his ideas about human nature. Neibuhr believed hubris was one of the root problems of human freedom, and therefore for the maintenance of liberalism. He simultaneously took the position that violence was necessary (even going so far as to criticize Gandhi) while also admitting that sometimes violence turned us into the same people we fight against. I could list more examples, but the pattern should be clear: Cherniss’s five exemplars avoid both fanaticism and utopianism while being cautiously optimistic about the limits of political possibility.
Other than the occasional nod to the contemporary political climate, Cherniss thankfully spares us from drawing conclusions about the rise in illiberal ideas throughout Europe and the United States. While there is always time for political application, at its heart, Cherniss’s book is one of twentieth-century political history, even if that history is recent. The five thinkers that Cherniss examines teach us something the history of modern democracy has repeatedly borne out. Liberalism is never a political given. Anyone who thinks their vision of a healthy polity is inevitable is bound to be disappointed. Francis Fukuyama’s pollyannaish thesis that the fall of Communism would bring about the dominance and stability of liberal democracy around the globe quickly fell flat on its face. Each generation must do its due diligence to adhere to the fundamental principles of liberal ideas, but that is never enough as liberal ends can always be instituted with illiberal means. What these thinkers emphasize is the temperedness of liberalism – its tendency toward forbearance, open-mindedness, caution, skepticism, uncertainty, altruism, empathy, and ethical pluralism – and how encouraging this temperance is vitally important to the future of the democratic project.
For Cherniss, tempered liberalism is an approach to politics exercised through certain features of character and disposition embodied by intellectual modesty, openness to engage in good faith dialogues with those with whom you disagree, skepticism, pluralism, and moderation. This is not an exhaustive list of liberal principles. Still, it suggests an “ethics of politics” – not just a set of political goals or ideologies, but attitudes to be embodied while aiming for those goals. When tempered liberalism is put into practice, these attitudes serve as guardrails against illiberalism like the militant nationalism that contributed to World War I and the quick descent into totalitarianism that came a generation later.
All of Cherniss’s subjects react in different ways to the rise of political extremism, whether it’s Isaiah Berlin’s boyhood experience during the Russian Revolution of 1917, Camus’s boyhood in colonial French Algeria, or Aron’s bemusement at the growing hold Communism had on European intellectuals in the years following World War II. Unlike his friend and fellow Communist Jean-Paul Sartre whose Marxism was fanatical, Camus’s embrace of the epuration legal (the purge of French collaborationists after the fall of the Vichy government) was much more pragmatic.
Neibuhr is unique among Cherniss’s choices because an explicitly Christian moral framework undergirds his ideas about human nature. Neibuhr believed hubris was one of the root problems of human freedom, and therefore for the maintenance of liberalism. He simultaneously took the position that violence was necessary (even going so far as to criticize Gandhi) while also admitting that sometimes violence turned us into the same people we fight against. I could list more examples, but the pattern should be clear: Cherniss’s five exemplars avoid both fanaticism and utopianism while being cautiously optimistic about the limits of political possibility.
Other than the occasional nod to the contemporary political climate, Cherniss thankfully spares us from drawing conclusions about the rise in illiberal ideas throughout Europe and the United States. While there is always time for political application, at its heart, Cherniss’s book is one of twentieth-century political history, even if that history is recent. The five thinkers that Cherniss examines teach us something the history of modern democracy has repeatedly borne out. Liberalism is never a political given. Anyone who thinks their vision of a healthy polity is inevitable is bound to be disappointed. Francis Fukuyama’s pollyannaish thesis that the fall of Communism would bring about the dominance and stability of liberal democracy around the globe quickly fell flat on its face. Each generation must do its due diligence to adhere to the fundamental principles of liberal ideas, but that is never enough as liberal ends can always be instituted with illiberal means. What these thinkers emphasize is the temperedness of liberalism – its tendency toward forbearance, open-mindedness, caution, skepticism, uncertainty, altruism, empathy, and ethical pluralism – and how encouraging this temperance is vitally important to the future of the democratic project.
February 19, 2022
A good overview of the ideas of Camus, Berlin, Aron, Weber and Niebuhr. The author's contribution to liberal ideas could be summed up as: don't lose yourself and your humanity in the ideals. I appreciated the emphasis on the ethics of politics.
Things that should be remembered from this book:
- The thing about communism was that it freed people from morality in the name of morality.
- Liberals own shortcomings include living up to their own ideals.
- We should be concerned about not what we should be, but what we should not become while getting there.
- Academicism is more concerned with ideas than with thinking. Fostering a belief that some ideas can betray us while others can save us. So we blame ideas instead of our bad thinking.
- Notion that the opponents can be strategically sacrificed in the name of ideas, and that violence is the only means by which this deadly world can be changed.
- Once one gives in to the logic of murder, it is difficult to stop.
- Living and dying for what one loves, not ideas.
- The actions necessary to avert moral catastrophe would not always be in line with personal mortality.
- The West's goal should not be to destroy the opposition, but to help them become more tolerant and open to diversity.
- Power should not be the aim, not for a nation nor in personal life.
- Intellectuals contributions are to bring to politics a tempering skepticism.
- If tolerance is born out of doubt, let's teach everyone to doubt all the models and utopias.
- A revolution can bring a new oppressor regime.
- The superiority of nonviolent methods are general, but not absolute.
- Humorlessness is dangerous, but humor on its own is not enough.
Things that should be remembered from this book:
- The thing about communism was that it freed people from morality in the name of morality.
- Liberals own shortcomings include living up to their own ideals.
- We should be concerned about not what we should be, but what we should not become while getting there.
- Academicism is more concerned with ideas than with thinking. Fostering a belief that some ideas can betray us while others can save us. So we blame ideas instead of our bad thinking.
- Notion that the opponents can be strategically sacrificed in the name of ideas, and that violence is the only means by which this deadly world can be changed.
- Once one gives in to the logic of murder, it is difficult to stop.
- Living and dying for what one loves, not ideas.
- The actions necessary to avert moral catastrophe would not always be in line with personal mortality.
- The West's goal should not be to destroy the opposition, but to help them become more tolerant and open to diversity.
- Power should not be the aim, not for a nation nor in personal life.
- Intellectuals contributions are to bring to politics a tempering skepticism.
- If tolerance is born out of doubt, let's teach everyone to doubt all the models and utopias.
- A revolution can bring a new oppressor regime.
- The superiority of nonviolent methods are general, but not absolute.
- Humorlessness is dangerous, but humor on its own is not enough.
February 24, 2024
An interesting book, though a bit long-winded and discursive in its approach, for my tastes. The most valuable thing I got out of it was the idea of thinking of liberalism as an ethos, as opposed to a set of principles. That was useful to me, and something that I hadn't really seen before. But the book only comes at the idea in a somewhat indirect way. It's a core component of what the author calls "tempered liberalism." But while the book is in some ways framed as a defense of tempered liberalism, it is actually structured as a study of four different historical liberals. So what analysis or defense of tempered liberalism is to be found here emerges only indirectly from that historical study, and thus is somewhat thinner than some readers might hope.
That said, I really appreciated the overview of some thinkers who don't receive much attention from contemporary political philosophers. Of these, Isaiah Berlin is certainly the most well-known. But I knew relatively little about Camus, even less about Reinhold Niebhur, and had never even heard of Raymond Aron. So it was nice to get a relatively succinct overview of these thinkers' ideas, and the historical contexts in which they emerged.
That said, I really appreciated the overview of some thinkers who don't receive much attention from contemporary political philosophers. Of these, Isaiah Berlin is certainly the most well-known. But I knew relatively little about Camus, even less about Reinhold Niebhur, and had never even heard of Raymond Aron. So it was nice to get a relatively succinct overview of these thinkers' ideas, and the historical contexts in which they emerged.
May 29, 2022
The value of 'character' is widely demeaned these days. The Right have indulged barbarity in the pursuit of cultural and political victory. While the Left dismiss any notion of striving for better individual practice, and treat as irrelevant the personal decency of leaders in the face of vast systemic challenges. To care about 'how' you act seems almost a quaint indulgence.
In 'Liberalism in Dark Times' Joshua Cherniss provides a remarkable book. It's not only a fine, easy to read intellectual history that recovers a strain of thought 'Ethos' explored across four very different thinkers in Albert Camus, Raymond Aron, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Isiah Berlin. It's also a book that speaks directly to our own times, highlighting the yawning absence of higher standards of personal behaviour that threatens to undermine our democratic project.
Most of our political debate - and political theory - is consumed with the 'what' of politics. Doctrines, policies, ideas. Very little of it focuses on 'How'. How should we act towards one another. How does our behaviour reflect, reinforce or undermine our goals? How do we remain loyal to our values in the face of ruthless opponents? Cherniss argues that these four 'tempered liberals' offered a way ahead by emphasising 'ethos', roughly a 'conception of the activity of politics itself, and the standards of conduct appropriate to it' (33).
This is a challenge for all political actors and political theorists. Yet it is particularly a challenge for liberals. To be a liberal requires a certain kind of character. It requires an endurance and indeed comfort with “contradiction, complexity, diversity and the risks of freedom” argues Judith Shklar. This is often seen as a weak or squishy 'centrism', yet true ease lies in the retreat to abstract principles and pre-ordained doctrine at the expense of trying to both enter the arena yet keep our heads.
For those who have read Iain McGilchrist's work on left/right hemisphere differences, this book has a seemingly special resonance. I'm not sure if Cherniss is familiar with his argument (it's not directly referenced), but this sentence early on leapt out to me: 'We have tended to be trained to focus on concepts, principles and processes more than the web of sensibilities, dispositions, aspirations and evaluative assumptions that shape thinking and link it to acting...to attend to ethos is to sacrifice a degree of simplicity and a certain sort of precision, for the sake of greater richness and (hopefully) truthfulness' (p.34-35). That just about perfectly maps McGilchrist's concern we have strayed too far into Left Hemisphere thinking at the expense of the Right Hemisphere's way of engaging the world.
This is also a very rich book for those interested in Strategy. That may seem odd given it's focus on liberal, often domestic political theory. Yet this is a book fundamentally about the relationship between ends, ways and means. The tempered liberals were all part of the Cold War, and at times accepted the need for a strain of realism and hard-headed effectiveness to succeed. Yet, they condemned the retreat into 'ruthelessness', of ends justifying any ways. As Cherniss concludes ‘They based their commitments to, and defense of, liberalism in an analysis of human passions and motives and a diagnosis of the relation”ship between ends and means…informed by the experience of seeing noble ends inspire and be subverted by ruthless means. In this, they arguably returned to some of liberalism’s deepest roots – but departed from many more recent forms of liberalism’ (202). No one can look at the Wests' deep failure during the war on terror - trying to impose democracy at gun point, declaring our love of freedom while policing the globe and torturing suspects - and fail to see the essential importance of character. It will matter just as much in the contest with China.
I could go on. There's so many threads to pull out of this text. Non-liberals will gain just as much reading this book and thinking about the nature of political action and engagement, as will those looking to try and resurrect and revive a liberal strain that can lend a shoulder to today's Sisyphean political tasks.
Strongly recommended.
In 'Liberalism in Dark Times' Joshua Cherniss provides a remarkable book. It's not only a fine, easy to read intellectual history that recovers a strain of thought 'Ethos' explored across four very different thinkers in Albert Camus, Raymond Aron, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Isiah Berlin. It's also a book that speaks directly to our own times, highlighting the yawning absence of higher standards of personal behaviour that threatens to undermine our democratic project.
Most of our political debate - and political theory - is consumed with the 'what' of politics. Doctrines, policies, ideas. Very little of it focuses on 'How'. How should we act towards one another. How does our behaviour reflect, reinforce or undermine our goals? How do we remain loyal to our values in the face of ruthless opponents? Cherniss argues that these four 'tempered liberals' offered a way ahead by emphasising 'ethos', roughly a 'conception of the activity of politics itself, and the standards of conduct appropriate to it' (33).
This is a challenge for all political actors and political theorists. Yet it is particularly a challenge for liberals. To be a liberal requires a certain kind of character. It requires an endurance and indeed comfort with “contradiction, complexity, diversity and the risks of freedom” argues Judith Shklar. This is often seen as a weak or squishy 'centrism', yet true ease lies in the retreat to abstract principles and pre-ordained doctrine at the expense of trying to both enter the arena yet keep our heads.
For those who have read Iain McGilchrist's work on left/right hemisphere differences, this book has a seemingly special resonance. I'm not sure if Cherniss is familiar with his argument (it's not directly referenced), but this sentence early on leapt out to me: 'We have tended to be trained to focus on concepts, principles and processes more than the web of sensibilities, dispositions, aspirations and evaluative assumptions that shape thinking and link it to acting...to attend to ethos is to sacrifice a degree of simplicity and a certain sort of precision, for the sake of greater richness and (hopefully) truthfulness' (p.34-35). That just about perfectly maps McGilchrist's concern we have strayed too far into Left Hemisphere thinking at the expense of the Right Hemisphere's way of engaging the world.
This is also a very rich book for those interested in Strategy. That may seem odd given it's focus on liberal, often domestic political theory. Yet this is a book fundamentally about the relationship between ends, ways and means. The tempered liberals were all part of the Cold War, and at times accepted the need for a strain of realism and hard-headed effectiveness to succeed. Yet, they condemned the retreat into 'ruthelessness', of ends justifying any ways. As Cherniss concludes ‘They based their commitments to, and defense of, liberalism in an analysis of human passions and motives and a diagnosis of the relation”ship between ends and means…informed by the experience of seeing noble ends inspire and be subverted by ruthless means. In this, they arguably returned to some of liberalism’s deepest roots – but departed from many more recent forms of liberalism’ (202). No one can look at the Wests' deep failure during the war on terror - trying to impose democracy at gun point, declaring our love of freedom while policing the globe and torturing suspects - and fail to see the essential importance of character. It will matter just as much in the contest with China.
I could go on. There's so many threads to pull out of this text. Non-liberals will gain just as much reading this book and thinking about the nature of political action and engagement, as will those looking to try and resurrect and revive a liberal strain that can lend a shoulder to today's Sisyphean political tasks.
Strongly recommended.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 8, 2023
Erudite and thorough in its treatment of several 20th Century political thinkers. I was familiar with Niebuhr and Berlin, but now have others to read as I try to answer this question: what can a older man do to absorb the parameters of tempered liberalism and engage his community? (That would be me, by the way). I am not a statesman, nor a philosopher, nor an institutional leader, but am a citizen who believes our democracy has value… This is a thought provoking book and I appreciate Mr. Cherniss’ labors to bring it to publication.
September 19, 2022
Esse livro apresenta o liberalismo antes como um conjunto de disposições e atitudes do que como um corpo doutrinal. Uma leitura realmente reveladora e um verdadeiro achado.
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