The uninvited neighbour: A Christian response to modern refugee issues

I would like to thank Jessie Taylor & Gordon Preece for helping me to think about this issue in a clearer manner.

Refugees on Nauru during the 'Pacific Solution' era

Biblical teaching suggests that Christians have a special duty to love those who are foreigners and refugees (Deuteronomy 10:19). How should this teaching be understood and applied by Christian citizens in Australia's current political context?  

Introduction

This article seeks to examine if and to what extent the normative elements of the Christian texts are relevant to the context of the current debate surrounding uninvited asylum seekers in Australia. I begin by providing a brief outline of the current political situation. Then, I explore the relationship between the biblical narrative, Christian principles of justice, and the politics of asylum. Finally I will consider the normative implications of applying Christian principles of justice within the Australian political context and what issues this may raise.

The Australian context

Many Australians will remember the famous words of John Howard in 2001 when he declared ‘we will decide who comes to this country and the circumstances in which they come.’[1] Thus began, or at least brought to the surface, a nation’s fear of so-called ‘illegals’, ‘queue-jumpers’, ‘aliens’, or the all-inclusive term ‘boat people’. In August of that same year, a small fishing boat called ‘Palapa I’ was discovered by MV Tampa as it carried 433 asylum seekers who were ‘mostly Hazaras escaping the Taliban.’ MV Tampa, the Norwegian fishing vessel proceeded to take the asylum seekers to Christmas Island, However, the SAS forcefully gained control of the vessel. On September 11, 2001, the Federal court ruled that ‘the government was obliged to bring the asylum seekers ashore and assess their claims.[2] Later, that decision was reversed and the refugees recued by MV Tampa were taken to Nauru. The ‘Tampa affair’ presented Howard with the perfect opportunity to reassure Australians that the government was in control of the nation’s borders.[3]

The offshore processing of the refugees discovered by MV Tampa in the Indian Ocean marked the beginnings of the ‘Pacific Solution’, which would a decade later be reinvented by the Gillard-Labour government in response to political turmoil over an apparent ‘influx’ of ‘boat people’. This costly endeavour of sending those who ask for our help to offshore detention centres has been praised for its effectiveness, or more precisely, its ability to ‘stop the boats’. The slogan ‘stop the boats’ has been embraced by both major Australian political parties.[4] Digging beneath the surface of such a slogan reveals the troubling normative issues in deterring asylum seekers through what is effectively indefinite imprisonment (or more diplomatically, detention). The costs associated with offshore processing are not just financial but also moral, psychological, and spiritual. I believe the Christian metaphysical underpinning that can operate from a non-consequentialist basis has something unique to offer the ethical discourse on this matter.

A biblical narrative

The narrative of the biblical texts are crucial for developing a holistic understanding of what a biblical response to this seemingly complex issue could look like. Rev. Dr. Gordon Preece emphasises that ‘we are all boat people,’ and that like us, ‘the Israelites needed repeated reminding that they were originally refugees.’[5] William Cavanaugh goes further in suggesting that the church itself is ‘already constituted by refugees,’ not merely originally, but is continually a body of refugees.[6]

The Old testament provides countless images of refugee stories. The Hebrew word ‘ger’ appears 92 times in the text. The word is translated to mean ‘stranger’ (Gen15:13, 23:4), ‘sojourner’ (Exod 2:22, 1 Chron 29:15), ‘alien’ (Exod 12:19, 2 Chron 2:17), or ‘foreigner’ (1 Chron 22:2).[7] Nearly all appearances of this word are accompanied by normative commands. Examples of these normative commands can be found when God orders no preferential treatment for the native-born over the alien (Lev 24:16, Num 9:14), when God orders the Israelites to love the foreigners (Deut 10:19), and when God commands the Israelites to leave enough food ‘for the foreigners, orphans, and widows (Deut 24:20).[8] Rather than top down charity which reinforces existing power relations, there is a strong emphasis on empathetic solidarity in the biblical text.[9]

Furthermore, Jesus is presented as a refugee who is fleeing a despotic dictator who gave orders ‘to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under.’[10] As a refugee King, Jesus recapitulated the normative themes explored in relation to refugees in the Old Testament texts. In Matthew 25, for example, Jesus tells his followers that we must view actions which are to the benefit of the least advantaged members of society as our duties as people who claim to love God.[11] It is in this crucial passage where Jesus explicitly states that there is no difference between an act of commission and an act of omission. Not doing something good, in Jesus’ ethical framework, is doing something bad. In other words, ignorance is not bliss.

Christians are far from united on the specific issue of ‘boat people’, perhaps even more so than other modern political and ethical issues that the churches are tackling. Tony Abbott, the leader of the federal Liberal party, when responding to a question about ‘why his attitude to asylum seekers was unchristian’ responded by suggesting: ‘I don’t think it’s a very Christian thing to come in by the back door rather than the front door.’[12] But as Preece points out, there have been plenty of Christian Refugees at Maribynong, Woomera, and Curtin detention centres.[13] Others, such as the Anglican Archbishop of Sydney, Peter Jensen, have endorsed the Houston and Aristotle reports, effectively supporting the reintroduction of the ‘Pacific Solution’ even though Jensen opposed offshore processing a decade earlier, arguing that ‘illegal’ actions of asylum seekers were caused by necessity.[14]

Normative issues

The consequences of a policy of deterrence can be severe and the policy can cost lives. On the other hand, the consequences of having no deterrence mechanism in place could also cost lives. In a normative sense, all I have suggested thus far is that we should be nice to refugees, which I presume is fairly uncontroversial. The next section seeks to establish which moral theory is most compatible with a biblical response to this issue.

The justifications given in support of coercive deterrence mechanisms in regards to those seeking asylum are largely utilitarian. The utilitarian perspective suggests that the means can be compromised in order to achieve the desired ends. This means that a utilitarian would find it acceptable to strive towards an ideal through non-ideal means. This is the first and most obvious clash between Christianity and utilitarianism. If Jesus wanted us to ‘love our neighbours’ or ‘love our enemies’ only when it was effective, then the command itself is ruled invalid by a greater command of ‘do what is most effective’. Martin Luther King, Jr. noticed this contradiction between Christian thought and utilitarianism, contending, ‘ultimately you can’t reach good ends through evil means, because the means represent the seed and the end represents the tree.’[15] Elsewhere he suggests that ‘the means represent the ideal in making and the end in process ... So as you seek justice as an end, you use just methods to get there.’[16] Paul writes in Romans that the people who think the Christians are teaching ‘let’s do evil so that good will come from it’ will be justly condemned.[17] Sending asylum seekers to detention centres in third world countries is the most explicit example of doing evil, in the hope that good will eventuate.

The second problem associated with the utilitarian justification for sending asylum seekers to places like Nauru is that it treats the individual asylum seekers who are sent to Nauru as mere means rather than ends in themselves.[18] This is a separate problem from the first issue raised which is specifically about the inconsistency of the means. The second problem differentiates the common asylum seeker from the common criminal. The common criminal has her liberty denied firstly for her own sake (rehabilitation, inability to reoffend), and the secondly, as a means to deter other people from committing that same crime.[19] For example, I would agree to live in a society where if I murdered someone I would then be incarcerated. Even if I am not rational at the time I murder someone, I can say now that it would be in my best interests to be separated from society for a time and to receive compulsory counselling and behavioural training so that I can be rehabilitated. Whereas, the common asylum seeker differs from the common criminal in that the asylum seeker has committed no moral or legal wrong, does not need rehabilitation, and imprisonment, (particularly in places like Nauru) and imprisonment is not in the asylum seekers’ interests. Imprisoning people who have committed no crime in order to deter other people from asking for our help treats the imprisoned people as a means rather than an end and strips them of their personhood and equality under God.

It is important to remark, that even if the utilitarian framework is accepted, one still needs to consider whether the empirical data shows that coercive deterrence leads to the maximisation of welfare. In a similar way, a utilitarian would only support torture in circumstances where welfare is maximised (eg., torturing one person to save the lives of two others). Authors such as Andy Lamey point out that Australia’s deterrence system causes asylum seekers to suffer from high stress levels and an increased risk of committing suicide.[20] He also points out that it gives them a status lower than criminals which is detrimental to their identity.[21] This shows that even from a utilitarian perspective (which does not generally synthesise with biblical teaching) it is difficult to justify ‘stopping the boats’.

A common objection to applying biblical principles to national security policies is the radical and demanding outcomes they infer. Unfortunately Christian thinkers such as Preece and Ralston have done very little to address the objection which asks: ‘at what point ought we turn people away?’ Preece inaccurately suggests that ‘even the most bleeding hearted, naive liberal is not saying ‘let everyone in’.’[22] Perhaps most liberals are not arguing this approach, but some of them are, and they should be considered. Still, it is unclear as to when Preece thinks we should begin to refuse asylum seekers protection and what means we should use to keep uninvited asylum seekers out of Australia. Ralston suggests that it is not necessary for the church to ‘advocate for a complete open-door policy to refugees,’ pointing out that the break-even point may arise if resettling refugees has a negative outcome for the ‘existing marginalised populations.’[23]

One suggestion would be that our obligations begin at the point where we have to sacrifice something significant, but they should not exceed the point where our self-care diminishes. In regards to where our obligations begin, we should take seriously Carens’s claim that ‘we have an obligation to open our borders more fully than we do now,’ and especially more fully to those who are in need.[24] Carens suggests that ‘open immigration would change the character of the community, but it would not leave the community without character.’[25] We must avoid holding on to our ideals of a static hegemonic culture when displaced people require our assistance. In regards to the upper constraints of our obligations, we should not require of ourselves more than God has called us to. God has called all believers to love their neighbour as themselves, which requires a basic level of self-love and self-care as a means to fulfil his work on earth.

Conclusion

In terms of acting upon our obligations as Christians to care for the refugee, I will briefly note one model which Ralston believes is compatible with a Christian understanding of justice. Ralston suggests that one of the most effective ways of communicating God’s ‘love and presence’ is through living with refugees, as exemplified by the Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS). He believes that the church is lacking in genuine encounters with refugees, and I am not inclined to disagree with him. This same model is being replicated through the ‘First Home Project’ in Perth, Australia. The Christian call is, however, not limited to one particular model (which some may find too demanding in their current context). Political activism and financial donations, or offerings of skills training and language development are all ways that Christians can live out the community and compassion they have been called to.

In conclusion, the Christian narrative and principles of justice encourage Christians to treat asylum seekers as humans who hold inalienable rights. This essay has shown the incompatibility of utilitarianism and the Christian ethical framework. First, coercive deterrence mechanisms severely compromise the commands which have been given to us in regards to how we ought to treat our neighbours. Second, people should not be treated as mere means due to their mode of transport and their legal status. Therefore, the Christian cannot endorse a policy which seeks to coercively use one lot of people purely as a means to deter others from asking for our assistance.

Works Cited

ABC. “Seek and Ye Shall Submit (Transcript).” Q&A, September 10, 2012. http://www.abc.net.au/tv/qanda/txt/s3581623.htm.

Biblos.com. “Online Parallel Bible”, 2011. http://bible.cc/.

Burnside, Julian. “Australians Don’t Fully Understand What Is Being Done in Their Name.” The Age, August 26, 2011. http://www.theage.com.au/opinion/politics/australians-dont-fully-understand-what-is-being-done-in-their-name-20110825-1jcbn.html#ixzz28TZW5Dm7.

Carens, Joseph H. “Aliens and Citizens: The Case for Open Borders.” The Review of Politics 49, no. 2 (April 1, 1987): 251–273.

Cavanaugh, William T. “Migrant, Tourist, Pilgrim, Monk: Mobility and Identity in a Global Age.” Theological Studies 69, no. 2 (June 2008): 340–356.

Clarke, Sarah. “Liberals Accused of Trying to Rewrite History.” Lateline. ABC, November 21, 2001. http://www.abc.net.au/lateline/content/2001/s422692.htm.

Jensen, Peter. “Interview with Amy Butler on Australia’s Treatment of Asylum Seekers and Refugees”, 2001. http://sydneyanglicans.net/seniorclergy/archbishop_jensen/48a.

Kant, Immanuel. “The Categorical Imperative.” In Ethics, edited by Peter Singer, 274–279. Oxford University Press, USA, 1994.

King, Martin Luther. “A Christmas Sermon on Peace” (n.d.).

———. Methodist Student Leadership Conference Address. September 10, 2011. American Rhetoric, 1964.

Lamey, Andy. Frontier justice : the global refugee crisis and what to do about it. Canada: Doubleday Canada, 2011.

Maccullum, Mungo. “‘Stop the Boats’ Has Become Bipartisan Policy.” ABC, July 2, 2012. http://www.abc.net.au/unleashed/4105116.html.

Mares, Peter. Borderline : Australia’s Treatment of Refugees and Asylum Seekers. Sydney, Australia: UNSW Press, 2001.

Preece, Gordon. “We Are All Boat People: An Exposition of a Biblical View.” In Refugees : justice or compassion?, edited by Hilary D Regan, Andrew Hamilton, Mark Raper, and Australian Theological Forum. Hindmarsh, S. Aust.: Australian Theological Forum, 2002.

Ralston, Joshua. “Toward a political theology of refugee resettlement.” Theological Studies 73, no. 2 (June 2012): 363+.

“Report of the Expert Panel on Asylum Seekers”, n.d. http://expertpanelonasylumseekers.dpmc.gov.au/report.

The Australian. “Abbott Slams Boatpeople as un-Christian”, n.d. http://www.theaustralian.com.au/national-affairs/immigration/abbott-slams-boatpeople-as-un-christian/story-fn9hm1gu-1226422034305.

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[1] Clarke, “Liberals Accused of Trying to Rewrite History.”

[2] Burnside, “Australians Don’t Fully Understand What Is Being Done in Their Name.”

[3] Mares, Borderline : Australia’s Treatment of Refugees and Asylum Seekers.

[4] Maccullum, “‘Stop the Boats’ Has Become Bipartisan Policy.”

[5] Preece, Gordon, “We Are All Boat People: An Exposition of a Biblical View,” 73. I must thank Gordon for the time he has spent with me discussing these issues.

[6] Ralston, “Toward a political theology of refugee resettlement,” 373.

[7] Strong’s Hebrew: 1616 in Biblos.com, “Online Parallel Bible”, see: http://concordances.org/hebrew/strongs_1616.htm.

[8] Strong’s Hebrew: 1616 in ibid., see: http://concordances.org/hebrew/strongs_1616.htm.

[9] Cavanaugh, “Migrant, Tourist, Pilgrim, Monk,” 352.

[10] Biblos.com, “Online Parallel Bible”, Matt 2:16.

[11] Ibid., Matt 25.

[12] The Australian, “Abbott Slams Boatpeople as un-Christian.”

[13] Preece, Gordon, “We Are All Boat People: An Exposition of a Biblical View,” 82.

[14] Jensen, “Interview with Amy Butler on Australia’s Treatment of Asylum Seekers and Refugees”; ABC, “Seek and Ye Shall Submit (Transcript)”; “Report of the Expert Panel on Asylum Seekers.”

[15] King, “A Christmas Sermon on Peace.”

[16] King, Methodist Student Leadership Conference Address.

[17] Biblos.com, “Online Parallel Bible”, Romans 3:8 and 6:1.

[18] Kant, “The Categorical Imperative,” 279. Kant suggest that “every rational being exists as an end in himself and not merely as a means to be arbitrarily used by this or that will.”

[19] At least, this is how one would expect the legal system to function.

[20] Lamey, Frontier justice, 118.

[21] Ibid., 129.

[22] Preece, Gordon, “We Are All Boat People: An Exposition of a Biblical View,” 70.

[23] Ralston, “Toward a political theology of refugee resettlement,” 386.

[24] Carens, “Aliens and Citizens,” 270.

[25] Ibid., 271.

Rawls and the Abolition of the Family

...just a quick side note, I hope to have more peace podcasts out soon once I have finished my next two essays. Thanks for your interest. Stay tuned and leave lots of comments :)

Does justice as fairness imply the abolition the family?

Justice as fairness has had a profound effect on political theory. This essay seeks to establish whether justice as fairness implies the abolition of the family or whether justice as fairness implies the more modest action of reform. The essay begins with an explanation of the key concepts such as the ‘basic structure’ and the ‘veil of ignorance’ in Justice As Fairness: A Restatement by John Rawls. The ideas of Susan Moller Okin and Veronique Munoz-Dardée will be discussed in order to go beyond Rawls’s limited writings on the topic in order to consider more fully how his principles of justice interact with the institution of the family. For this topic I will attempt to separate the normative elements from the empirical elements while acknowledging that one’s perspective on the empirical elements of the institution of the family may influence their perspective of what justice as fairness requires for the institution in a normative sense.

Rawls uses a device called the ‘veil of ignorance’ through which he suggests that risk-averse and rational participants would choose the following two principles of justice to apply to the basic structure. The two principles of justice are as follows

a)                  ‘Each person has the same indefensible claim to a fully adequate scheme of equal basic liberties, which scheme is compatible with the same scheme of liberties for all; and

b)                  Social and economic inequalities are to satisfy two conditions: first, they are to be attached to offices and positions open to all under conditions of fair equality of opportunity and second, they are to be to the greatest benefit of the least-advantaged members of society (the difference principle).’[1]

The basic structure, which Rawls seeks to apply these principles of justice to, ‘is the way in which the main political and social institutions of society fit together into one system of social cooperation, and the way they assign basic rights and duties and regulate the division of advantages that arises from social cooperation over time.’ The basic structure consists of ‘the political constitution with an independent judiciary, the legally recognised forms of property, and the structure of the economy (for example, as a system of competitive markets with private property in the means of production), as well as the family in some form.’ [2]

Rawls includes the family in the basic structure because ‘one of its essential roles is to establish the orderly production and reproduction of society and of its culture from one generation to the next.’[3] Rawls suggests that ‘no particular form of the family (monogamous, heterosexual, or otherwise) is so far required by a political conception of justice so long as it is arranged to fulfil these tasks effectively and does not run afoul of other political values.’[4] However, Rawls, somewhat ambiguously limits the scope that the principles of justice have in their affect upon the family by suggesting that ‘political principles do not apply directly to its [the family’s] internal life but they do impose essential constraints on the family as an institution and guarantee the basic rights and liberties and fair opportunities for all its members.’[5]

One may question how the substance of this formal equality can arise without directly affecting the internal life of the institution. If the family, in its current and historical modes is perceived to be moderately unjust and in need of minor reform, Rawls’s approach would seem reasonable and remain consistent with values of liberty. Whereas, if the family, in its current and historical modes is perceived to be severely unjust and in need of major reform or abolition, then one would be more sympathetic to an approach where the family is directly the subject matter of the principles of justice.

In Justice, Gender, and the Family, Okin provides a generally constructive critique of Rawls’s Justice As Fairness from a feminist perspective. In her response to Justice As Fairness and Rawls’s other works she suggests that Rawls uses sexist language and largely ignores historical injustices directed towards women and their subjugation within the family. This has led Okin to feel obliged to ask, ‘does this theory of justice apply to women?’[6] Okin’s drawn out critique of Rawls’s sexist language, while accurate and somewhat relevant, is on the weaker side of her criticism. The strongest challenge that she presents to Rawls is questioning what grounding he has to omit the institution of the family from the direct impact of the principles of justice as they apply to the rest of the basic structure.

Rawls suggests that the principles of justice apply to broader political and economic institutions rather than to the internal life of private groups and associations such as ‘firms and labour unions, churches, universities, and the family.’[7] He uses the example of a church being able to excommunicate heretics but not being allowed to burn them. This, according to Rawls, is compatible with justice as fairness. Although Rawls may not personally believe such an action is justified, he is seeking to establish a system of political justice rather than a moral framework such as utilitarianism which is significantly more comprehensive in its scope. In the same way, Rawls sees the institution of the family as ‘bound by the constraints arising from the principles of justice’, but only ‘indirectly from just background institutions within which associations and groups exist, and by which the conduct of their members is restricted.’[8] He points out that women and men ‘are equal citizens and have equal basic rights,’ and goes on to state that ‘to establish equality between men and women in sharing the work of society, in preserving its culture and in reproducing itself over time, special provisions are needed in family law (and no doubt elsewhere) so that the burden of bearing, raising, and educating children does not fall more heavily on women, thereby undermining their fair equality of opportunity.’[9]

Rawls explicitly argues for reform as opposed to more radical change such as abolition in securing justice for all peoples including those who form part of a family institution. While Okin does not directly call for the abolition of the family in Justice, Gender, And The Family, she does believe that ‘a consistent and wholehearted application of Rawls’s liberal principles of justice can lead us to challenge fundamentally the gender system of our society.’[10] It is apparent that this is not the purpose of justice as fairness as intended by Rawls. However, if Okin is right in suggesting that Rawl’s principles of justice would ‘fundamentally change the gender system of our society’, then these same principles would ultimately impact on the family which is an institution which has historically been largely shaped through the gender system.

Another important analysis of what Rawls’s theory means for the institution of the family is presented by Munoz-Dardé in Is the Family to Be Abolished Then?. She makes several empirical claims as background to her argument. The article begins with the assertion that ‘the family is one of the main causes of morally arbitrary inequality. Moreover, it is not inequality which makes everyone better off.’[11] This empirical claim is directly appealing to Rawls’s ‘difference principle’ which was explained earlier. The same claim could also be made about private property. It seems likely that private property also does not satisfy the difference principle in being of the ‘greatest benefit of the least advantaged members of society.’[12] In the same way, the author suggests that the difference principle should lead us to question whether the family is to the greatest benefit of its lest well-off members. To satisfy the ‘difference principle’ in this case, one may need to consider whether the institution of the family benefits women and children, or at least, whether the inequalities created by the institution are to their maximum benefit. Such a broad empirical assertion cannot be made here, but it will suffice to say that there are conceivable instances of the family working to either the advantage or the disadvantage of its least well-off members.

Munoz-Dardé views child rearing by elders within a community as an essential function of the family and she describes the family by this function. Understanding that children must still be cared for if the family were to be abolished, she contrasts the institution of the family with a well-run orphanage. In Marriage and Morals, Russel suggests the state substitution of the family would come with both positive and negative consequences. He argues that health and education have improved due to state intervention in Western nations. However, he also point to ‘grave dangers’ in trusting the state in the role of ‘parenting’ children. The main issue of concern for Russell is that the state is likely to treat children as a means rather than an ends, whereas, due to individual bonds between parents and their children, parents are more likely to treat their children as an ends in themselves. After referring to Russell’s argument, Munoz-Dardé concedes that the abolition of the family in favour of a well run orphanage ‘would probably pose such extreme threats to individual liberty and capacity for self-determination, that it would defeat the very purpose that made us envisage its substitution by a well-run orphanage.’[13]

Munoz-Dardé does suggest that state marriage should be abolished because it ‘creates inequalities which are not beneficial to the worst-off.’[14] However, she does not see any need to intervene upon the institution as a ritual or religious ceremony. Allowing the institution of marriage to continue yet abolishing state recognition of marriage does not abolish the institution itself. Therefore, the steps that Munoz-Dardé is proposing to take in regards to both the family and marriage are closer to reform than abolition. While either reform or abolition could be invoked to achieve justice in the institution of the family, a Rawlsian political approach, both through explication and implication, would suggest that reform would be the preferred option.[15]

Rawls does not provide a strong and comprehensive defence of the family in Justice As Fairness: A Restatement. Indeed Rawls does not intend his political theory to be comprehensive and to explicitly intrude upon the domains of the private sphere or the moral sphere so long as his egalitarian political conception of the good can still be met. However, several authors, such as Okin have noted similar sentiments as this: ‘the critical force of the original position becomes evident when one considers that some of the most creative critiques of Rawls’s theory have resulted from more radical or broad interpretations of the original position than his own.’[16] The Rawlsian method has proved useful for both Okin and Munoz-Dardé in highlighting the failures of the institution of the family. However, given the unattractiveness of the alternative possibilities and their associated threats to liberty, I will conclude by suggesting that justice as fairness does not imply the abolition of the family but significant reform.

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[1] Rawls and Kelly, Justice as fairness, 42–43.

[2] Ibid., 10.

[3] Ibid., 162.

[4] Ibid., 163.

[5] Ibid., 164.

[6] Susan Moller Okin, Justice, gender, and the family, 91.

[7] Rawls and Kelly, Justice as fairness, 10.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid., 11.

[10] Susan Moller Okin, Justice, gender, and the family, 89.

[11] Munoz-Dardée, “Is the Family to Be Abolished Then?,” 37.

[12] Rawls and Kelly, Justice as fairness, 42–43.

[13] Munoz-Dardée, “Is the Family to Be Abolished Then?,” 216.

[14] Ibid., 54.

[15] Rawls and Freeman, Collected papers, 600. Such an approach is discussed in Collected Papers in direct response to authors such as Okin.

[16] Susan Moller Okin, Justice, gender, and the family, 101; see also: Okin, “Political Liberalism, Justice, and Gender,” 42.

Munoz-Darde, Veronique. “Is the Family to Be Abolished Then?” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 99, no. 1 (1999): 37–56.

Okin, Susan Moller. “Political Liberalism, Justice, and Gender.” Ethics 105, no. 1 (1994): 23–43.

Rawls, John, and Samuel Richard Freeman. Collected papers. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1999.

Rawls, John, and Erin Kelly. Justice as fairness : a restatement. Cambridge, Mass [u.a.]: Harvard Univ. Press, 2003.

Susan Moller Okin. Justice, gender, and the family. New York: Basic Books, 1989.

Why Marx Was Wrong

Can revolutionaries bring change without imitating the oppression forced upon them? http://goo.gl/2Bj5k

Marx’s theory of historical materialism rests on an indefensible economic reductionism. Critically evaluate.

In The Communist Manifesto, Marx argues that ‘the charges against communism made from a religious, a philosophical and, generally, from an ideological standpoint, are not deserving of serious examination’ (Marx, Engels, & Moore, 1998, p. 18). In this essay I will argue that many of these criticisms of Marxist style political and economic communism are deserving of serious examination. First, the terms ‘materialism’ and ‘economic reductionism will be examined’. Second, a brief overview of Marx’s thoughts in regard to the question will take place. The problems surrounding economic reductionism, materialism, and the inevitable violent outcomes of these theories will then be discussed.

According to the Routledge encyclopaedia of philosophy, materialism is ‘a set of related theories which hold that all entities and processes are composed of – or are reducible to – matter, material forces or physical processes.’ Furthermore, ‘Materialism entails the denial of the reality of spiritual beings, consciousness and mental or psychic states or processes, as ontologically distinct from, or independent of, material changes or processes’ (Wood, 1998). Materialism provides an exact scientific basis to life. For Marx, materialism is able to explain descriptive phenomena, providing a basis of history. From this basis of history, through its epochs and revolutions, patterns emerge. These patterns, from a materialist setting, emerge due to the economic relations of society. Marx’s theory is better understood as deterministic or fatalist rather than prescriptive or moral (Croce, 1966, p. xi). According to Marx, the economic sphere is ‘the real foundation of society’ and therefore, ‘labour is the essence of humanity’ (Hughes, 2007, p. 67; Marx & Engels, 1968, p. 182). The suggestion that economic science is the basis of society leads to economic reductionism, which is the natural outcome of materialism.

Economic reductionism, which stands at the centre of Marx’s thought, is laced with problems. Marx perceives a broad range of issues in society which through scientific historical analysis he explains the economic epochs which human societies have weaved through. He expresses strong concern in regard to the oppression of the proletariat (the working class) throughout his work, while voicing an equal degree of contempt for the middle-class bourgeoisie. As Dupré aptly summarises in The Philosophical Foundations of Marxism, Marx’s chief concern is that ‘those who contribute most to the production receive the least enjoyment from the actual product’ (Dupré, 1966, p. 149). Marx expresses further contempt for the bourgeoisie in The Communist Manifesto by stating that they have ‘agglomerated population, centralised means of production, and has [sic] concentrated property in a few hands’ (Marx et al., 1998, p. 7). He also expresses concern for child labour on multiple occasions (Marx et al., 1998, pp. 17, 20). Marx is not specifically concerned with the immorality or metaphysics of oppression, but rather, his concern regarding oppression is in relation to the progression of history. While referring to the phenomena as a struggle between proletarians and bourgeoisies, he also implies that the transition to communism is part of the unfolding development of human history. It seems that while with one hand Marx denies morality as a facade for religion through showing its incompatibility with materialism, with the other hand, he employs morality into his discourse with moral prescriptions and ethical assessments.

In The Communist Manifesto, Marx writes that ‘the theoretical conclusions of the Communists are in no way based on ideas or principles that have been invented, or discovered, by this or that would-be universal reformer. They merely express, in general terms, actual relations springing from an existing class struggle, from a historical movement going on under our very eyes’ (Marx et al., 1998, pp. 13–14). He uses a bottom-up materialist approach rather than a top-down spiritual understanding of the world (Dupré, 1966, p. 155). This has strong implications for any theorist, philosopher, or theologian who may suggest that meaning can be derived from outside the economic sphere. As one writer suggests, ‘any interpretation that sought to detect aesthetic and ethical elements of Marx’s thought must address his critique of ideology and his apparent reductionism in viewing the ‘superstructure’ as simply determined by the economic-material base’ (Hughes, 2007, p. 64). Marx’s reductionism denies the moral and philosophical realm, retendering it ‘not deserving of serious examination’, which begs the question, ‘what is one to do according to Marxist law?’ Should one stand aside from the unfolding of history, or perhaps, try to speed its progress?

It is clear that Marx suggests that there is some kind of moral imperative in his theory. Marx concludes The Communist Manifesto by stating, ‘the proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains. They have a world to win. Workingmen of all countries, unite!’ (Marx et al., 1998, p. 30). His conclusion draws out two problems, the first is conceptual while the second is practical.  The conceptual problem is that Marx gets an ‘ought’ from an ‘is’, and moreover, from an ‘is’ that is entirely based on a materialist conception of history. It is difficult to predict the trajectory of history, and even more problematic to understand morality in terms of economics and history alone. Hypothetically, if the next stage of history was the further oppression of the working people, the exploitation of the environment, and the extinction of various animal species; it would be difficult to tell what Marx’s moral prescriptions would be. It seems to be of pure coincidence that Marx’s next stage of history, when the proletarians violently overthrow the bourgeoisie, happens to synthesise with some conceptions of morality. As for the practical refutation of encouraging ‘workingmen of all countries’ to ‘unite’, it is interesting to note that there is no longer a clear division between the proletarians and the bourgeoisie, meaning that no longer are proletarians across the world united in struggle (Milanovic, 2011, pp. 110–111). Revolution seems less likely as the proletarians become more comfortable. Poverty was once driven by class, but it is now ‘almost entirely driven by location’ according to Milanovic (2011, pp. 112–113). Poverty in developing countries calls for a revolution of kinds, yet Marx seems to make no prescriptions here. It is ironic that workers in country A who are wealthier than the bourgeoisie in country B, must be equally concerned with political change in their own midst as they should be with the lot of the workers in country B who are much worse-off than they are. According to strict Marxist thought, modern understandings of poverty and development are irrelevant. The famine stricken Somali villagers must form unions and violently overthrow the classes who hold them back. If ‘man’s essence depends on his productive activity, and this activity is determined by nature’, then it seems that we will be led to these illogical conclusions (Dupré, 1966, p. 148).

It is interesting that Marx seems to support the intrinsic value of the human being. He wants to abolish the ‘miserable character of this appropriation, under which the labourer lives merely to increase capital’ (Marx et al., 1998, p. 15). Marx also voices his opinion against children being ‘transformed into simple articles of commerce and instruments of labour’ (my emphasis, Marx et al., 1998, p. 17). While I side with Marx’s concern, it is philosophically problematic for Marx to accept the concept of intrinsic value while simultaneously being a firm supporter of historical materialism and economic reductionism. It is understandable that Marx attempts to integrate a Kantian understanding that it is inappropriate to use another person as a ‘mere means’ to generate ecumenical appeal, however, to argue that children should not be ‘transformed into simple articles of commerce and instruments of labour’ presupposes that there is another basis to the value of humans that is neither economic nor material. If there was child labour intended to help the working class, it would seem that Marx could not take issue with it.

 In the final section of this paper, the issue of Marx’s prescriptions, especially those in relation to violence, will be discussed. Marx suggests in The Communist Manifesto that ‘the violent overthrow of the bourgeoisie lays the foundation for the sway of the proletariat’, and later that the Communists ‘openly declare that their ends can be attained only by the forcible overthrow of all existing social conditions’ (Marx et al., 1998, pp. 12, 30). He also suggests that the ‘overthrow of the bourgeois supremacy’ and the ‘ conquest of political power by the proletariat’ is part of the ‘immediate aim’ of (Marx’s version) of communism (Marx et al., 1998, p. 13). Croce articulately discerns that an action ‘may have economic value without being moral, and the consideration of economic value must therefore be independent of ethics’ (Croce, 1966, p. xvi). Therefore, the ultimate problem of Marx’s theory is that it cannot care whether an action is moral, but only whether an action has economic value. Leo Tolstoy argues that the means of socialist revolution are ‘in the first place and above all, immoral, containing falsehood, deception, violence, murder; in the second place, these means can in no case attain their end’ (Tolstoy & Stephens, 1990, p. 62). Tolstoy gives a two part criticism to socialist revolutionary theories of change. The first part pertains to the means being ‘immoral’. This will be considered as the philosophical distinction. The second part of Tolstoy’s criticism relates to the means being unable to achieve their desired ends. This will be considered as the pragmatic distinction. Both Tolstoy’s philosophical and pragmatic distinctions are powerful criticisms of Marx’s prescriptive thought.

Tolstoy shares Marx’s concern for the working class and the oppressed. He writes that the ‘men of the ruling classes, who have no reasonable explanation of their privileges, and who in order to retain them are forced to repress all their nobler and more humane tendencies, try to persuade themselves of the necessity of their superior position; while the lower classes, stultified and oppressed by labour, are kept by the higher classes in a state of constant subjection’ (Tolstoy, 2009, p. 284). Tolstoy hears the cries of the oppressed, and while he is committed to pacifism, he is not committed to being passive. He suggests that the people should cease to support the army, a body of working class people who have been convinced to repress their working class peers in the interests of the wealthy (Tolstoy & Stephens, 1990, pp. 61–63). Tolstoy argues that if power, or the current structures of its manifestations, are to be abolished it must be abolished not by force but by man’s awareness of its lack of utility and intrinsic evil. When men refuse to join the army and refuse to pay taxes the foundations of the current order will crumble. Tolstoy’s conception of nonviolent social change rests on the premise that there is some degree of humanity to be found in the so-called evil oppressors. He suggests that ‘our wealthy classes, whether their consciences be tender or hardened, cannot enjoy the advantages they have wrung from the poor, as did the ancients, who were convinced of the justice of their position. All the pleasures of life are poisoned either by remorse or fear’ (Tolstoy, 2009, p. 108). Therefore, it would be better for one to suffer than to oppress, as living a moral life, according to Tolstoy, is of far more value than imitating one’s oppressor. Tolstoy’s thoughts paved the way for the struggle for independence in India as a practical alternative to civil war. Gandhi described himself as ‘Tolstoy’s devoted follower’ and said that Tolstoy’s writings ‘overwhelmed’ him (Lavrin, 1960, pp. 132–134). As Tolstoy suggested, and as Gandhi proved, non-violent revolutions are possible and they also have greater chances of success than violent revolutions, which contradicts Marx’s thoughts. Peace and Conflict researcher Stephen Zunes suggests that ‘less destructive means can be found to overcome dictatorial regimes and unjust social systems’. He cites Iran, Bolivia, Sudan, Haiti, Philippines, Mali, and Madagascar as nations who have been able to overthrow oppressive states through non-violent action. Non-violent action in South Korea, Chile, Mongolia, Nepal, Bangladesh, and Kenya has also led to some reforms (Zunes, 1994, p. 405). While Marx would cast away the idea of a non-violent proletariat revolution as an idea that is merely religion in disguise, the tangible evidence of non-violent revolutions not only being moral but being more effective in achieving their ends is problematic for Marx’s narrow path to freedom.

Marx’s historical materialism and economic reductionism inevitably leads to the imperative for the proletariat to violently revolt against the powers that be. The narrow reductionism and materialism purported by Marx presupposes that the essence of man is his productive capacity, ignoring any other realm of influence. While his concern about the poor, property ownership, and the idle bourgeois is justified, his solutions are dangerous, immoral, and ineffective at achieving their ends.

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