The morality of international relations

The intersection between morality and expediency in international relations has been the subject of many analyses over the centuries. The debate over the primacy of might and right goes back at least as far as Machiavelli, and, arguably, back to Book 1 of Plato's Republic. In the 20th century, the debate has taken on greater urgency, both because of the development of the "realist" school (the 1948 publication of Politics Among Nations makes a convenient starting point), and because of the horrifying escalation of warfare's danger, even before the advent of nuclear weapons.

In this ongoing debate, the role of Jacques Maritain (1882-1973) is an important one. Maritain challenged the realist analysis of international relations in some significant ways, even while he accepted the major premise of the realist project. This essay will attempt to summarize and analyze the critique of realism presented by Maritain, and in the process illustrate and explain Maritain's vision of international relations. I will also note how and when Maritain's vision has become public policy. One of Maritain's most important efforts eventually played a significant role in the downfall of the Soviet Union.

Maritain was prompted to write about international relations by the rise of Nazism, and the reaction of the Western powers to this threat. For Maritain, both the rise of Hitler, and the ensuing World War, were evidence of the inadequacy of realism, or, as Maritain called it, "Machiavellianism." To understand Maritain's thinking on international relations, therefore, it is necessary to understand realism, as he understood realism.

Although the sentiments he expresses in The Prince and The Discourses are echoes of the sentiments of Thrasymacus in Plato, most observers regard Machiavelli as an innovative thinker on international relations. Maritain also takes Machiavelli as his starting point for discussions of political realism. While The Prince lacks a definitive statement regarding political idealism, it abounds with other quotable signs of its author's impatience with sentiment or ethics. To take one example, Machiavelli states: "[I]t comes about that all unarmed prophets have conquered and unarmed ones failed." (Machiavelli, ch. 6)

Machiavelli is less coy about his view of human nature: "For it may be said of men in general that they are ungrateful, voluble, dissemblers, anxious to avoid danger, and covetous of gain; as long as you benefit them, they are entirely yours." (Machiavelli, ch. 17). In the very next chapter, Machiavelli even does without the "in general" qualifier:

"Therefore, a prudent ruler ought not to keep faith when by doing so it would be against his interest, and when the reasons which made him bind himself no longer exist. If men were all good, this precept would not be a good one; but as they are bad, and would not observe their faith with you, so you are not bound to keep faith with them." (Machiavelli, ch. 18)

Because goodness is so rare, and such a liability, Machiavelli went on to develop an alternative system of ethics for political leaders. Machiavelli has only the most grudging acceptance of personal morality, and none at all for a prince who places abstract moral principles above the quest for success. He believed that it was nearly self-evident that there are two distinct systems of morality, one for princes, and the other for everyone else. There are two systems, because there are two goals: ordinary people want to get to heaven, and tailor their morality to this otherworldly goal; princes want to survive, and to command. Their morality is therefore tailored to this world, with little thought to the next world. Machiavelli did believe, however, that a prince committed to prudence would prevent the premature journey of his subjects to this afterlife, by preventing war.

By the post-World War I era, however, the influence of Woodrow Wilson, even given the failure of his dream, was such that