Augustine: Political and Social

Philosophy

St. Augustine (354-430 C.E.),

originally named Aurelius Augustinus, was the Catholic bishop of
Hippo in northern Africa. He was a skilled Roman-trained
rhetorician, a prolific writer (who produced more than 110 works
over a 30-year period), and by wide acclamation, the first
Christian philosopher. Writing from a unique background and
vantage point as a keen observer of society before the fall of the
Roman Empire, Augustines views on political and social
philosophy constitute an important intellectual bridge between
late antiquity and the emerging medieval world. Because of the
scope and quantity of his work, many scholars consider him to
have been the most influential Western philosopher.
Although Augustine certainly would not have thought of himself
as a political or social philosopher per se, the record of his
thoughts on such themes as the nature of human society, justice,
the nature and role of the state, the relationship between church
and state, just and unjust war, and peace all have played their
part in the shaping of Western civilization. There is much in his
work that anticipates major themes in the writings of moderns
like Machiavelli, Luther, Calvin and, in particular, Hobbes.
Table of Contents
1. Background
a. Historical Context
b. Augustinian Political Theory
c. The Augustinian World View
2. Foundational Political and Social Concepts
a. Two Cities
b. Justice and the State
c. Church and State
2. War and Peace
a. War Among Nations
b. War and Human Nature
c. The Just War
d. Jus ad Bellum and Jus in Bello
e. Augustines Conception of Peace
2. Conclusion
3. References and Further Reading
a. Primary Sources
b. Secondary Sources
1. Background
a. Historical Context
Augustines political and social views flow directly from his
theology. The historical context is essential to understanding his
purposes. Augustine, more than any other figure of late
antiquity, stands at the intellectual intersection of Christianity,
philosophy, and politics. As a Christian cleric, he takes it as his
task to defend his flock against the unremitting assault by
heresies spawned in an era uninformed by the immediate, divine
revelations which had characterized the apostolic age. As a
philosopher, he situates his arguments against the backdrop of
Greek philosophy in the Platonic tradition, particularly as
formulated by the Neo-Platonists of Alexandria. As a
prominent Roman citizen, he understands the Roman Empire to
be the divinely-ordained medium through which the truths of
Christianity are to be both spread and safeguarded.
Augustine died reciting the Penitential Psalms as the Vandals
besieged the city of Hippo on the coast of northern Africa (now
the city of Annaba, in Algeria). This occurred two decades after
the sacking of Rome by Alaric.

b. Augustinian Political Theory

Augustines willingness to grapple with substantive political and
social issues does not mean, however, that the presentation of his
ideas comes pre-packaged as a simple systemor even as a
system at all. Quite the contrary, his political arguments are
scattered throughout his voluminous writings, which include
autobiography, sermons, expositions, commentaries, letters, and
Christian apologetics. Moreover, the contexts in which the
political and social issues are addressed are equally varied.

Nevertheless, it would be a mistake to suggest that his arguments

are not informed by a cogent theory. Taken together, his political
and social musings constitute a remarkable tapestry. Indeed, the
consistency evident in the expression of his varied but related
ideas leads both fairly and directly to the assumption that
Augustines political-philosophical statements arise from a
consistent set of premises which guide him to his conclusions; in
other words, they reveal the presence of an underlying, if
unstated, theory.
c. The Augustinian World View
Because Augustine considers the Christian scriptures to
constitute the touchstone against which philosophyincluding
political philosophymust be assayed, his world view necessarily
includes the Christian tenets of the Creation, the Fall of man, and
the Redemption. In stark contrast to the pagan philosophers
who preceded himwho viewed the unfolding of history as a
cyclical phenomenon, Augustine conceives history in strictly
linear terms, with a beginning and an end. According to
Augustine, the earth was brought into existence ex nihilo by a
perfectly good and just God, who created man. The earth is not
eternal; the earth, as well as time, has both a beginning and an
end.
Man, on the other hand, was brought into existence to endure
eternally. Damnation is the just desert of all men because of the
Fall of Adam, who, having been created with free will, chose to
disrupt the perfectly good order established by God. As the result
of Adams Fall, all human beings are heirs to the effects of
Adams original sin, and all are vessels of pride, avarice, greed
and self-interest. For reasons known only to God, He has
predestined some fixed number of men for salvation (as a display
of His unmerited mercya purely gratuitous act altogether
independent even of Gods foreknowledge of any good deeds
those men might do while on earth), while most He has
predestined for damnation as a just consequence of the Fall. The
onward march of human history, then, constitutes the unfolding
of the divine plan which will culminate in one or the other
outcome for every member of the human family.

Within this framework of political and legal systems, the state is

a divinely ordained punishment for fallen man, with its armies,
its power to command, coerce, punish, and even put to death, as
well as its institutions such as slavery and private property. God
shapes the ultimate ends of mans existence through it. The state
simultaneously serves the divine purposes of chastening the
wicked and refining the righteous. Also simultaneously, the state
constitutes a sort of remedy for the effects of the Fall, in that it
serves to maintain such modicum of peace and order as it is
possible for fallen man to enjoy in the present world.

While it is not clear that God predestines every event during

mans sojourn on earth, nothing happens in contravention of His
designs. In any case, predestination fixes the ultimate
destination of every human beingas well as the political states
to which they belong. Hence, predestination for Augustine is the
proverbial elephant in the room. Whether predestination was
divinely contemplated prior or incidental to the Fall (a point
which Augustine never clearly articulates), the following problem
arises: If one is to be saved or damned by divine fiat, what
difference does it make whether the world possesses the social
order of a state? For those who are predestined for damnation,
what is the point of their being chastened (or a means to
encourage their reformation) by the state? For those predestined
for salvation, what is the point of their being refined by the
vicissitudes of life in a political state? In order to prevent the
collapse of such a systematic account of the human condition as
Augustine provides, the question simply must be set aside as a
matter unknowable to finite man. However, this means that the
best Augustine can hope to accomplish is to provide
a description of political life on earth, but not
a prescription for how to obtain membership in the perfect
society of heaven; for, even strict obedience to Christian precepts
will not compensate for ones not being gratuitously elected for
salvation.
As the social fabric of the world around him unravels in the
twilight years of the Roman Empire, Augustine attempts to
elucidate the relationship between the eternal, invisible verities
of his faith and the stark realities of the present, observable
political and social conditions of humanity. At the intersection of
these two concerns, Augustine finds what for him is the central
question of politics: How do the faithful operate successfully but
justly in an unjust world, , where selfish interests dominate,
where the general welfare is rarely sought, and where good and
evil men are inextricably (and, to human eyes, often
unidentifiably) intermingled, yet search for a heavenly reward in
the world hereafter?

2. Foundational Political and Social

Concepts
a. Two Cities
Even though those elected for salvation and those elected for
damnation are thoroughly intermingled, the distinction arising
from their respective destinies gives rise to two classes of
persons, to whom Augustine refers collectively and allegorically
as citiesthe City of God and the earthly city. Citizens of the
earthly city are the unregenerate progeny of Adam and Eve, who
are justifiably damned because of Adams Fall. These persons,
according to Augustine, are aliens to Gods love (not because God
refuses to love them, but because they refuse to love God as
evidenced by their rebellious disposition inherited from the
Fall). Indeed, the object of their lovewhatever it may beis
something other than God. In particular, citizens of the earthly
city are distinguished by their lust for material goods and for
domination over others. On the other hand, citizens of the City
of God are pilgrims and foreigners who (because God, the
object of their love, is not immediately available for their present
enjoyment) are very much out of place in a world without an
earthly institution sufficiently similar to the City of God. No
political state, nor even the institutional church, can be equated
with the City of God. Moreover, there is no such thing as dual
citizenship in the two cities; every member of the human family
belongs to oneand only one.
b. Justice and the State
The Augustinian notion of justice includes what by his day was a
well-established definition of justice of giving every man his
due. However, Augustine grounds his application of the
definition in distinctively Christian philosophical commitments:
justice, says Augustine, is love serving God only, and therefore
ruling well all else. Accordingly, justice becomes the crucial
distinction between ideal political states (none of which actually
exist on earth) and non-ideal political statesthe status of every
political state on earth. For example, the Roman Empire could
not be synonymous with the City of God precisely because it
lacked true justice as defined above; and since, where there is no
justice there is no commonwealth, Rome could not truly be a
commonwealth, that is, an ideal state. Remove justice,
Augustine asks rhetorically, and what are kingdoms but gangs of
criminals on a large scale? What are criminal gangs but petty
kingdoms? No earthly state can claim to possess true justice,
but only some relative justice by which one state is more just
than another. Likewise, the legitimacy of any earthly political
regime can be understood only in relative terms: The emperor
and the pirate have equally legitimate domains if they are equally
just.

Nevertheless, political states, imperfect as they are, serve a

divine purpose. At the very least, they serve as vehicles for
maintaining order and for preventing what Hobbes will later call
the war of all against all. In that respect, the state is a divine
gift and an expression of divine mercyespecially if the state is
righteously ruled. The state maintains order by keeping wicked
men in check through the fear of punishment. Although God will
eventually punish the sins of all those elected for damnation, He
uses the state to levy more immediate punishments against both
the damned and the saved (or against the wicked and the
righteous, the former dichotomy not necessarily synonymous
with the latter). Rulers, as Gods ministers, punish the guilty and
always are justified in punishing sins against nature, and
circumstantially justified in punishing sins against custom or
against the laws. The latter two categories of sins change from
time to time. In this regard, the institution of the state marks a
relative return to order from the chaos of the Fall. Rulers have
the right to establish any law that does not conflict with the law
of God. Citizens have the duty to obey their political leaders
regardless of whether the leader is wicked or righteous. There is
no right of civil disobedience. Citizens are always duty bound to
obey God; and when the imperatives of obedience to God and
obedience to civil authority conflict, citizens must choose to obey
God and willingly accept the punishment of disobedience.
Nevertheless, those empowered to levy punishment should take
no delight in the task. For example, the prayer of the judge who
condemns a man to death should be, as Augustines urges, From
my necessities [of imposing judgment to a person] deliver thou
me.

c. Church and State

Even though the ostensible reason for the states divinely
appointed existence is to assist and bless humankind, there is no
just state, says Augustine, because men reject the thing that best
could bring justice to an imperfect world, namely, the teachings
of Christ. Augustine does not suggest that current rejection of
Christs teachings means that all hope for future amendment and
reformation is lost. However, Augustines whole tenor is that
there is no reason to expect that the political jurisdictions of this
world ever will be anything different than what they now are, if
the past is any predictor of the future. Hence, Augustine
concludes that
Christs servants, whether they are kings, or princes, or judges, or
soldiers . . . are bidden, if need be, to endure the wickedness of
an utterly corrupt state, and by that endurance to win for
themselves a place of glory . . . in the Heavenly Commonwealth,
whose law is the will of God.

Augustine clearly holds that the establishment and success of the

Roman Empire, along with its embracing of Christianity as its
official religion, was part of the divine plan of the true God.
Indeed, he holds that the influence of Christianity upon the
empire could be only salutary in its effect:

Were our religion listened to as it deserves, says Augustine, it

would establish, consecrate, strengthen, and enlarge the
commonwealth in a way beyond all that Romulus, Numa, Brutus,
and all the other men of renown in Roman history achieved.

Still, while Augustine doubtless holds that it is better for Rome to

be Christian than not, he clearly recognizes that officially
embracing Christianity does not automatically transform an
earthly state into the City of God. Indeed, he regards Rome as a
kind of second Babylon. Even if the Roman Emperor and the
Roman Pontiff were one and the sameeven if the structures of
state and church merged so as to become institutionally the same
they would not thereby become the City of God, because
citizenship in the City of God is determined at the individual and
not the institutional level.

Augustine does not wish ill for Rome. Quite the contrary, he
supplicates God for Romes welfare, since he belongs to it, in
temporal terms at least. He sees Rome as the last bastion against
the advances of the pagan barbarians, who surely must not be
allowed to overrun the mortal embodiment of Christendom that
Rome represents. Nevertheless, Augustine cannot be overly
optimistic about the future of the Roman state as suchnot
because it is Rome, but because it is a state; for any society of
men other than the City of God is part and parcel of the earthly
city, which is doomed to inevitable demise. Even so, states like
Rome can perform the useful purpose of championing the cause
of the Church, protecting it from assault and compelling those
who have fallen away from fellowship with it to return to the fold.
Indeed, it is entirely within the provinces of the state to punish
heretics and schismatics.
3. War and Peace
a. War Among Nations
Inasmuch as the history of human society is largely the history of
warfare, it seems quite natural for Augustine to explain war as
being within Gods unfolding plan for human history. As
Augustine states, It rests with the decision of God in his just
judgment and mercy either to afflict or console mankind, so that
some wars come to an end more speedily, others more slowly.

Wars serve the function of putting mankind on notice, as it were,

of the value of consistently righteous living. Although one might
feel to call upon Augustine to defend the notion that God can,
with propriety, use so terrible a vehicle as war to chasten the
wicked, two points must be kept in mind: The first point is that,
for Augustine, all of Gods acts are just, by definition, even if the
application of that definition to specific cases of the human
experience eludes human reasoning. This point invites a
somewhat more philosophically intriguing question: Is it just to
compel men to do good who, when left to their own devices,
would prefer evil? If one were forced to act righteously contrary
to his or her will, is it not the case that he or she would still lack
the change of heart that is necessary to produce a repentant
attitudean attitude that results in genuine reformation?
Perhaps; but Augustine is unwilling to concede that it is better, in
the name of recognizing the agency of others, to let them
continue to wallow in evil practices. Augustine argues,
The aim towards which a good will compassionately devotes its
efforts is to secure that a bad will be rightly directed. For who
does not know that a man is not condemned on any other ground
than because his bad will deserved it, and that no man is saved
who has not a good will?

Exactly how God is to bring about his good purposes through the
process of war may not be clear to man in any particular case.
Any who acquire a glimpse of understanding as to why the divine
economy operates as it does truly possess a good will and shall
not hesitate to administer to those erring, according to Gods
direction, the punitive discipline that war is intended to bring.
Moreover, those of good will shall administer discipline to those
erring by moving them toward repentance and reformation.

All of this leads conveniently to a second point: War can bring

the need to discipline by chastening. Those of good will do not
manifest cruelty in the proper administration of punishment but,
rather, in the withholding of punishment. It does not follow,
Augustine states, that those who are loved should be cruelly left
to yield themselves with impunity to their bad will; but in so far
as power is given, they ought to be both prevented from evil and
compelled to good. What if, however, the violence of war serves
only to subdue the wrongdoings of the wicked but fails to
produce the change of heart that would characterize the
transition from a bad to a good willmuch like the case of the
criminal who is sentenced to prison but who feels no remorse for
his or her actions and, given his or her freedom, would all too
readily repeat the crime? For Augustine, it is always better to
restrain an evil man from the commission of evil acts than it is to
permit his continued perpetration of those acts. As for the evil
but unrepentant man, it would seem that he will have failed to
reap the intended benefit of Gods chastening, which, reckoned
by any measure, is a great tragedy indeed.

For Augustine, even the death of the mortal body, as ultimate a

penalty as it might appear from the mortal perspective, is not
nearly so serious a consequence as that which would ensue if one
is left to wallow in sin: But great and holy men, although they at
the time knew excellently well that that death which separates
the soul from the body is not to be dreaded, yet, in accordance
with the sentiment of those who might fear it, punished some
sins with death, both because the living were struck with a
salutary fear, and because it was not death itself that would
injure those who were being punished with death, but sin, which
might be increased if they continued to live.

Writing after the time when Christianity became the official

religion of the Roman Empire, Augustine holds that there is no
prohibition against a Christian serving the state as a soldier in its
army. Neither is there any prohibition against taking the lives of
the enemies of the state, so long as he does it in his public
capacity as a soldier and not in the private capacity of a
murderer. Nevertheless, Augustine also urges that soldiers
should go to war mournfully and never take delight in the
shedding of blood.

b. War and Human Nature

If, however, the presence of war serves as a defining
characteristic of the earthly city, why does Augustine not pursue
the course taken by some of the Latin Patristic writers who
precede him by labeling war and military service as merely a
worldly institution in which true Christians have no place. The
answer seems to lie in Augustines world view, which differs from
that of many of his predecessors in terms of his optimism for
man to comprehend the ultimate verities, live in an orderly
manner and find his way back to God. He becomes quite
pessimistic though in his view of human nature and of the ability
and desire of humans to maintain themselves orderly, much less
rightly. Pride, vanity and the lust for domination entice men
toward waging wars and committing all manner of violence,
because of mens tendency to do evil as the result of Adams Fall.
Augustine holds that, given the inextricable mixing of citizens of
the two cities, the total avoidance of war or its effects is a
practical impossibility for all men, including the righteous.
Happily, he holds that the day will come when, coincident with
the end of the earthly city, wars will no longer be fought. For,
says Augustine, citing words from the Psalms to the effect that
God will one day bring a cessation of all wars,

This not yet see we fulfilled: yet are there wars, wars among
nations for sovereignty; among sects, among Jews, Pagans,
Christians, heretics, are wars, frequent wars, some for the truth,
some for falsehood contending. Not yet then is this fulfilled, He
maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; but haply it shall
be fulfilled.

For the present, however, manparticularly Christian manis

left with the question of how to live in a world full of war.

c. The Just War

As the Roman Empire collapses around him, Augustine
confronted the question of what justifies warfare for a Christian.
On the one hand, the wicked are not particularly concerned
about just wars. On the other hand, the righteous vainly hope to
avoid being affected by wars in this life, and at best they can
hope for just wars rather than unjust ones. This is by no means
a perfect solution; but then again, this is not a perfect world. If it
were, all talk of just wars would be altogether nonsensical.
Perfect solutions characterize only the heavenly City of God. Its
pilgrim citizens sojourning on earth can do no better than try to
cope with the present difficulties and imperfections of the earthly
life. Thus, for Augustine, the just war is a coping mechanism for
use by the righteous who aspire to citizenship in the City of God.
In terms of the traditional notion of jus ad
bellum (justice of war, that is, the circumstances in which wars
can be justly fought), war is a coping mechanism for righteous
sovereigns who would ensure that their violent international
encounters are minimal, a reflection of the Divine Will to the
greatest extent possible, and always justified. In terms of the
traditional notion of jus in bello (justice in war, or the moral
considerations which ought to constrain the use of violence in
war), war is a coping mechanism for righteous combatants who,
by divine edict, have no choice but to subject themselves to their
political masters and seek to ensure that they execute their war-
fighting duty as justly as possible. Sometimes that duty might
arise in the most trying of circumstances, or under the most
wicked of regimes; for
Christs servants, whether they are kings, or princes, or judges, or
soldiers, or provincials, whether rich or poor, freemen or slaves,
men or women, are bidden, if need be, to endure the wickedness
of an utterly corrupt state, and by that endurance to win for
themselves a place of glory

hereafter in the heavenly City of God.

In sum, why would a man like Augustine, whose eye is fixed upon
attainment of citizenship in the heavenly city, find it necessary to
delineate what counts as a just war in this lost and fallen world?
In general terms, the demands of moral life are so thoroughly
interwoven with social life that the individual cannot be
separated from citizenship in one or the other city. In more
specific terms, the just man who walks by faith needs to
understand how to cope with the injustices and contradictions of
war as much as he needs to understand how to cope with all
other aspects of the present world where he is a stranger and
pilgrim. Augustine takes important cues from both Cicero and
Ambrose and synthesizes their traditions into a Christianized
world view that still retains strong ties to the pre-Christian
philosophic past. He resolves the dilemma of just war and
pacifist considerations by denying the dilemma: war is simply a
part of the human experience that God Himself has ordained or
permitted. War arises from, and stands as a clear manifestation
of, the nature of fallen man. For adherents to nominal
Christianity, the explanatory power of Augustines thoughts on
just war is substantial; his approach enables Christians to
understand just war as a coping mechanism for just men who are
trying to get along as morally (if not as piously) as they can in an
imperfect world.

However, since Augustine seeks to resolve the nature of his

ethical tensions, the synthetic character of Augustines approach
to war is important, not merely for adherents to Christianity, but
also for others seeking a strictly rational account of the problem.
For example, if one were to take a de-theologized view of
Augustines approach and focus simply upon the general
theoretical problem of the morality of war, Augustines attempt
fully deserves serious philosophical consideration. His approach
explains how a morally upright citizen of a relatively just state
could be justified in pursuing warfare, in prosecuting war, and
ultimately, although unhappily, in taking human life. In any
case, Augustines just war theory arises from his most deeply
rooted philosophical assumptions. Augustine as a Christian
philosopher achieves a full synthesis of the Roman and Christian
values associated with war in a way that legitimizes war as an
instrument of national policy which, although inferior to the
perfect ideals of Christianity, is one which Christians cannot
altogether avoid and with which they must in some sense make
their peace.

d. Jus ad Bellum and Jus in Bello

Traditionally, the philosophical treatment of the just war is
divided into two categories: jus in bellum and jus in bello.
The former describes the necessary (and, by some accounts,
sufficient) conditions for justifying engagement in war. The
latter describes the necessary conditions for conducting war in a
just manner.
Augustines jus ad bellum prescripts enjoin that wars can be
initiated justly only on the basis of:
1. a just cause, such as to defend the state from external
invasion; to defend the safety or honor of the state, with the
realization that their simultaneous defense might be impossible;
to avenge injuries; to punish a nation for failure to take
corrective action for wrongs (legal or moral ) committed by its
citizens; to come to the defense of allies; to gain the return of
something that was wrongfully taken; or to obey a divine
command to go to war (which, in practice, issues from the
political head of state acting as Gods lieutenant on earth); and in
any case, the just cause must be at least more just than the cause
of ones enemies;
2. a rightly intended will, which has the restoration of peace as
its prime objective, takes no delight in the wickedness of
potential adversaries, views waging war as a stern necessity,
tolerates no action calculated to provoke a war, and does not seek
to conquer others merely for conquests sake or for territorial
expansion; and

3. a declaration of war by a competent authority, and except in

the most unusual of circumstances, in a public manner, and only
as a last resort.

Concerning jus in bello, Augustine holds that wars, once begun,

must be fought in a manner which:
1. represents a proportional response to the wrong to be avenged,
with violence being constrained within the limits of military
necessity;

2. discriminates between proper objects of violence (that is,

combatants) and noncombatants, such as women, children, the
elderly, the clergy, and so forth.; and
3. observes good faith in its interactions with the enemy, by
scrupulously observing treaties and not prosecuting the war in a
treacherous manner.

e. Augustines Conception of Peace

Both Augustines political world view and his approach to war
incorporate his conception of peace. According to Augustine,
God designed all humans to live together in the bond of peace.
However, fallen man lives in society as according to the divine
will or as opposing it. Augustine distinguishes the two cities in
several important ways, as well as the kind of peace they seek:

There is, in fact, one city of men who choose to live by the
standard of the flesh, another of those who choose to live by the
standard of the spirit. The citizens of each of these desire their
own kind of peace, and when they achieve their aim, that is the
kind of peace in which they live.

Because the common choice of fallen man is a peace of his own

likingone that selfishly serves his own immediate or
foreseeable ends, peace becomes, in practice, merely an interlude
between ongoing states of war. Augustine is quick to point out
that this life carries with it no guarantee of peace; that blessed
state is reserved for the saved in heaven.
Augustine delineates three kinds of peace: the ultimate and
perfect peace which exists exclusively in the City of God, the
interior peace enjoyed by the pilgrim citizens of the City of God
as they sojourn on earth, and the peace which is common to the
two cities. Sadly, Augustine is abundantly clear that temporal
peace is rather an anomalous condition in the totality of human
history and that perfect peace is altogether unattainable on
earth:

Such is the instability of human affairs that no people has ever

been allowed such a degree of tranquility as to remove all dread
of hostile attacks on their dwelling in this world. That place,
then, which is promised as a dwelling of such peace and security
is eternal, and is reserved for eternal beings.

However, Augustine insists that, by any estimation, it is in the

best interest of everyonesaint or sinnerto try to keep the
peace here and now; and indeed, establishing and maintaining
an earthly peace is as fundamental to the responsibilities of the
state as protecting the state in times of war.
As for the churchs quest for peace, he writes, it seems to me
that no limit can be set to the number of persecutions which the
Church is bound to suffer for her training; and he opines that
persecutions will continue until the final scenes of the current
state of human history incidental to the second coming of Christ.
Interestingly, Augustine gives no suggestion whatsoever that the
rest of the earth will be at peace while this violence against the
church continues. On the contrary, the entire tenor of his
argument suggests that anti-Christian violence is merely typical
of the violence and disorder that will accompany the human
experience until the second coming of Christ.

While men do not agree on which kind of peace to seek, all agree
that peace in some form is the end they desire to achieve. Even
in war, all parties involved desireand fight to obtainsome
kind of peace. Ironically, although peace is the end toward which
wars are fought, war seems to be the more enduring, more
characteristic of the two states in the human experience. War is
the natural (albeit lamentable) state in which fallen man finds
himself. The flesh and the spirit of manalthough both are good
are in perpetual opposition:

But what in fact, do we achieve, when we desire to be made

perfect by the Highest Good? It can, surely, only be a situation
where the desires of the flesh do not oppose the spirit, and where
there is in us no vice for the spirit to oppose with its desires.
Now we cannot achieve this in our present life, for all our
wishing. But we can at least, with Gods help, see to it that we do
not give way to the desires of the flesh which oppose the spirit to
be overcome, and that we are not dragged to the perpetration of
sin with our own consent.

Augustine concludes that war among men and nations cannot be

avoided altogether because it is simply characteristic of the
present existence. The contention that typifies war is merely the
social counterpart to the spirit-body tension that typifies every
individual person. However, man can, through the general
application of divine precepts contained in scripture and through
the pursuit of virtue as dictated by reason, manage that tension
both on the individual and societal levels in such a way as to
obtain a transitory peace. War and peace are two sides of the
same Augustinian coin. Owing to the injustice that is inherent in
the mortal state, the former is presently unavoidable, and the
latter, in its perfect manifestation, is presently unattainable.

4. Conclusion
In sum, the state is an institution imposed upon fallen man for
his temporal benefit, even if the majority of men will not
ultimately benefit from it in light of their predestination to
damnation. However, if one can successfully set aside
Augustines doctrine of predestination, one finds in his writings
an enormously valuable descriptive account of the psychology of
fallen man, which can take the reader a very great distance
toward understanding social interactions among men and
nations. Although the doctrine of predestination is
indispensable for understanding Augustines theology, its
prominence does not preclude one from reaping value from his
appraisal of the state of man and his political and social
relationships in the fallen earthly city, to which all either
belong or with which they have unavoidable contact.

5. References and Further Reading

All the primary sources are readily available in English.
 a. Primary Sources
Augustine. City of God [De civitate Dei]. Translated by
Marcus Dods, in The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. Edited by
Philip Schaff. First Series. Vol. II. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans
Publishing Company, 1956.
Augustine. On Christian Doctrine [De doctrina
christiana]. Translated by J. F. Shaw, in The Nicene and Post-
Nicene Fathers. Edited by Philip Schaff. First Series. Vol. II.
Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1956.
Augustine. On Free Choice of the Will [De libero
arbitrio libri III]. Translated by Anna S. Benjamin and L. H.
Hackstaff. New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1964.
Augustine. Our Lords Sermon on the Mount [De Sermone
Domini in Monte secundum Matthaeum]. Translated by William
Findlay, in The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. Edited by Philip
Schaff. First Series. Vol. VI. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing
Company, 1956.

\Political Revolution
Revolutions are commonly understood as instances of
fundamental socio-political transformation. Since the age of
revolutions in the late 18th century, political philosophers and
theorists have developed approaches aimed at defining what
forms of change can count as revolutionary (as opposed to, for
example, reformist types of change) as well as determining if and
under what conditions such change can be justified by normative
arguments (for example, with recourse to human rights).
Although the term has its origins in the fields of astrology and
astronomy, revolution has witnessed a gradual politicization
since the 17th century. Over the course of significant semantic
shifts that often mirrored concrete political events and
experiences, the aspect of regularity, originally central to the
meaning of the term, was lost: Whereas in the studies of, for
example, Nicolaus Copernicus, revolution expressed the
invariable movements of the heavenly bodies and, thus, the
repetitive character of change, in its political usage, particularly
stresses the moments of irregularity, unpredictability, and
uniqueness.
In light of the marked heterogeneity of the ways in which
thinkers such as Thomas Paine (1737-1809), J.A.N. de Condorcet
(1743-1794), Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), G.W.F. Hegel (1770-
1831), Mikhail Bakunin (1814-1876), Karl Marx (1818-1883),
Hannah Arendt (1906-1975), and Michel Foucault (1926-1984)
reflect on the possibilities and conditions of radically
transforming political and social structures, this article
concentrates on a set of key questions confronted by all these
theories of revolution. Most notably, these questions pertain to
the problems of the new, of violence, of freedom, of the
revolutionary subject, the revolutionary object or target, and of
the temporal and spatial extension of revolution. In covering
these problems in turn, it is the goal of this article to outline
substantial arguments, analyses, and aporias that shape modern
and contemporary debates and, thereby, to indicate important
conceptual and normative issues concerning revolution.

This article is divided into three main sections. The first section
briefly reconstructs the history of the concept revolution. The
second section gives an overview of the most important strands
of politico-philosophical thought on revolution. The third section
examines paradigmatic positions developed by theorists with
respect to the central problems mentioned above. As the majority
of thinkers who address revolution do not elaborate
comprehensive theories and as there is comparatively little
thematic secondary literature on the subject, this part proposes a
framework for individually situating and systematically relating
the differing approaches.

Table of Contents
1. History of the Concept
2. Three Traditions of Thought
a. The Democratic Tradition
b. The Communist Tradition
c. The Anarchist Tradition
 2. Concepts of Revolution
a. The Question of Novelty
b. The Question of Violence
c. The Question of Freedom
d. The Question of the Revolutionary Subject
e. The Question of the Revolutionary Object
f. The Question of the Extension of Revolution
2. Conclusion
3. References and Further Reading
1. History of the Concept
In preparation for presentation of the different philosophical
approaches to revolution in the following article, this section is
concerned with providing a concise outline of the history of the
concept. In so far as revolution is employed to describe political
transformation, conceptual historians understand its origins to
be genuinely modern. Critically informed by the experience of
the revolutions in England, America, and France, the term in
common usage designates the epitome of political change, that
is, change not only in laws, policies, or government but in the
established order that is both profound and durable. Earlier
conceptions of political change are missing the notions of a
peoples autonomous ability to act or of its right to emancipation.
Further, the absence of two structural preconditions explains
why revolution in the sense of fundamental politico-social
transformation is not conceived prior to modernity. On the
historical level, it is the formation of the strong state that is
conducive to a political imagination of radical liberation from
state oppression and the subsequent founding of an essentially
different order. The extent of the Hobbesian type of the states
disciplining power and the impossibility of direct political
participation thus lay the ground for revolutionary projects. On
the conceptual level, the supersession of cyclical conceptions of
history as advocated by Aristotle, Polybius, Cicero, or Machiavelli
by linear models of thought allows for the idea of irreversible
progress in politics and society. In the course of this shift in
historical thinking revolution is eventually looked upon as a
catalyzing, even enabling factor of progress. Since history is no
longer understood as dependent on forces beyond human control
(such as, for example, divine providence), human agency comes
to be regarded as the decisive factor in shaping its course
(compare Koselleck, 1984 and 2004; for arguments that
revolution, both as a concept and a phenomenon, does have pre-
modern origins, compare Rosenstock-Huessy, 1993 [1938];
Berman, 1985).

The history of political thought largely attests to the assessment

that the idea of revolution as structural, justifiable change is
unknown prior to modernity. Aristotles reflections on political
change (metabol tes politeas) in books III and IV
of Politics show that the alterations he takes into consideration
do not amount to the complete breakdown of an existing order,
its organizing hierarchy, and its principles of
inclusion/exclusion. Despite certain arguable similarities to
modern concepts (for instance, with respect to the element of
violence), conceptual predecessors of revolution such
as stasis and kinesis in the Greek tradition
or seditio, secessio, and tumultus in the Roman tradition
have strong negative connotations. In ancient and medieval
political thought, they are primarily related to anarchy and civil
war. Even in the works of an early-modern thinker like
Machiavelli the idea of an absolute hiatus, a fundamental rupture
on the continuum of politics is not developed fully. Although he
is occupied with political change, key concepts related to the
topic (most importantly, rinovazione, mutazione,
and alterazione) are overridden by the conviction that all shifts
as to forms of constitutions ultimately do not break out of a cycle
of historical recurrence. In short, the notion of a world-shaping
human power to interrupt and to begin (compare Merleau-
Ponty, 2005 [1945]) and the corresponding pathos of novelty
(compare Arendt, 2006 [1963]) remain alien to pre-modern
thought.
In the 17th and 18th century, the discovery of revolution as a
relevant political category is reflected and supported by political
and moral philosophy. John Locke, in his Second Treatise on
Civil Government (1689), develops an influential defense of the
right of resistance, rebellion, and even revolution. Going beyond
Thomas Hobbess considerations on a subjects right to defend
herself against the sovereign if her life is under threat, his social
contract theory presents this protective right against stately
coercion and oppression as a necessary political concretization of
the individuals inalienable natural right to life, liberty, and
estate. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, in the Discourse on the
Origin of Inequality (1755) and the Social Contract (1762),
aims at exposing the morally degenerate, politically illegitimate
state of the Ancien Rgime and proposing a liberal, egalitarian
political and legal constitution to replace it. According to
Rousseau, the general will ousts the particular will of the
monarch as the guideline in politics, thereby implying that the
people attain autonomy, sovereignty, and, thus, the status of full
political subjectivity. Lockes and Rousseaus considerations thus
importantly add to a revaluation of acts of protest and
insurrection: Such acts can no longer be dismissed as the work of
political offenders or public enemies as was the case prior to the
undermining of the political theology of absolutism and
feudalism, which was largely based on the doctrine of divine
right (compare Kantorowicz, 1997 [1957]; Walzer, 1992). Instead,
thanks to the political thought of the enlightenment in general
and to Lockean and Rousseauian social contract and natural
rights theory in particular, such acts can now be interpreted as
an exercise of rationally and morally justifiable political self-
determination. Although neither Locke nor Rousseau present
elaborated theories of revolution, they develop positions that are
inherently critical of any political order that is not built on the
principles of consent and trust and, thus, potentially
revolutionary. Their reflections on legitimate governance and on
citizens rights go beyond earlier discussions of justified
resistance to monarchssuch as the 1579 Vindiciae contra
Tyrannos, published under the pseudonym Stephen Junius
Brutus, which rely on expertocratic leadership as opposed to
political self-determination of the people. Their works thus
prepare the ground for the two main ideas of the revolutionary
age: natural human rights and national sovereignty (compare
Habermas, 1990; Menke/Raimondi, 2011).
Resulting from a plethora of intellectual and material factors, the
distinctly modern understanding of revolution takes shape on
the eve of the historical revolutions of the late 18 th century: It is
both a combat term (R. Koselleck) in political praxis and an
essentially contested concept (W.B. Gallie) in political theory.
It is in the works of thinkers like Condorcet, Kant, or Marx that
this contest is henceforth held and that the specific political and
philosophical meaning of the term is spelled out, albeit in widely
differing ways.
2. Three Traditions of Thought
Before turning to a detailed examination of important conceptual
and normative issues concerning revolution, this section aims at
giving an overview of three dominant lines of thought on
revolution. Given the considerable discontinuities and breaks
within each of these strands on the one hand and the numerous
overlaps and interchanges between them on the other, the lines
of thought presented here have to be understood as ideal types.
Although it is likely that there are alternative perspectives, very
few theories of revolution resist classification into one of these
strands.

a. The Democratic Tradition

A primarily democratic strand of theory is influenced by the
works of Locke, takes shape in Thomas Jeffersons and J.A.N. de
Condorcets thinking, and is further developed in Kants
reflections on gradual, yet profound transformation. Throughout
the 19th and 20th century, it is continued selectively in the late
writings of Friedrich Engels or in Hannah Arendts and Jrgen
Habermass considerations of the subject. This strand is
characterized by a strong emphasis on non-violent, legal means
and on politico-legal liberty and equality as the essential aims of
revolution. Its representatives understand revolution as a
continuing project or task that cannot reach a point of
completion and satisfaction. Correspondingly, these thinkers, for
the most part, reject notions of instantaneous rupture and
absolute novelty whereby they undermine rigid distinctions
between revolutionary and reformist change. Key elements of
this tradition resonate in the work of a contemporary thinker like
Etienne Balibar. He suggests an understanding of revolution as a
progressive power that operates from within the democratic
system. Instead of aiming at the radical overthrow of this system,
democratic citizens assume the role of the revolutionary subject
by advocating constant additions to and revisions of the existing
order and its institutionsfor example, an extension of what
Arendt calls the right to have rights to non-citizens, increased
possibilities for political participation, or a more consequent
adherence to human rightsallowing for its continued legitimacy
(compare Balibar, 2014).
b. The Communist Tradition
A primarily communist line of revolutionary theory begins with
the works of Rousseau. This line is elaborated decisively in the
thinking of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels. Significant
modifications notwithstanding, it is continued in the writings of
Vladimir Lenin and Jean-Paul Sartre during the 20 th century. The
majority of its representatives share the belief in the possibility
of revolutions being finalized and completed. Although they offer
different suggestions as to justifiable forms and degrees of
violence, they further share the idea that violence, in general, can
function as an acceptable means of revolution. They also agree
that the realization of material liberty and equality (as opposed
to merely formal, that is, legal liberty and equality) in the social
sphere are its main goals. As this sphere includes apolitical
institutions such as the market, substantial revolutionary
transformation cannot satisfy itself with abstract political
principles but needs to affect the concrete conditions in which a
society exists (for example, the relations of production). In
addition, the notion of solidarity is central to these thinkers
vision of revolutionary action and of a post-revolutionary society
that is realized through these actions. Key elements of this strand
of revolutionary thought shape the works of contemporary
theorists such as Alain Badiou and Slavoj Zizek. Interpreting
existing democratic orders as regimes of radical immanence, it is
evident to them that genuine transcendence (a communism to
come) has to manifest itself as a supersession of this order. To
overcome the inherently bourgeois structures and discourses of
power that are ceaselessly reproduced by late-capitalist
democracies, radical disruptions are needed. Taking the form of
acts of terror or subtraction, such disruptions express the
eternal truths of the suffering of the masses (compare Badiou,
2012; Zizek, 2012).
c. The Anarchist Tradition
An anarchist tradition of revolutionary theory has its sources in
19th century America (Josiah Warren), France (Pierre-Joseph
Proudhon), and in the thought of the Russian theorists Mikhail
Bakunin and Peter Kropotkin. This tradition is later taken up in
the works of, for example, Emma Goldman, Rosa Luxemburg,
and Paul Goodman. Although these thinkers differ considerably
in their assessment of revolutionary violence, they converge as to
the crucial emancipatory aim of revolution: As any form of
institutionalized authority is considered incompatible with
human autonomy, their vision is the creation of a society
independent of imperial institutions in the economic, social,
and political realms. Consequently, they do not content
themselves with a redistribution of political power, however
radical, within the framework of the state, but aim at its abolition
instead. David Graeber, in his contemporary reformulation of
anarchism, describes the way in which the envisaged
revolutionary abolition of vertical structures is linked to the
emergence of new forms of horizontal relations, that is, of
communal existence. These forms are no longer organized by the
logic of dominance and of cost/benefit; instead, they are shaped
by the principles of mutual aid and free cooperation, which are
not guided by instrumental rationality (compare Graber, 2004).
3. Concepts of Revolution
The following section discusses central questions addressed in
the works of theorists from these main strands: The questions of
novelty, violence, freedom, the revolutionary subject, the
revolutionary object or target, and the extension of revolution. As
it is neither possible to comprehensively discuss relevant
concepts of revolution proposed by political philosophers and
theorists nor to comprehensively include thematic
considerations of the theorists presented here, this section
contents itself with highlighting certain crucial features. Since
this article is concerned with concepts of revolution as developed
by political philosophers and theorists, important historical
(compare Furet/Ozouf, 1989; Hobsbawm, 1996 [1962]; Palmer,
2014 [1959]), sociological (compare Skopcol, 1979), and
politological (compare DeFronzo, 2011) studies that primarily
concentrate on the phenomenon of revolution, its empirical
forms and causes, are not taken into account. Further, a number
of theoretical explorations of revolution are also not taken into
consideration. This applies to the works of partisans of
revolution such as, for example, Georges Sorel or Georg Lukcs
as well as to the works of critics of revolution such as, for
example, Edmund Burke, Jeremy Bentham, Joseph de Maistre,
or Carl Schmitt.

The exclusive focus on the six questions mentioned above is

justified by the fact that they constantly appear in the theoretical
debates regarding revolution as criteria in determining (a) if and
under what conditions political change can be considered as
revolutionary and (b) if and under what conditions such
revolutionary change can be considered as legitimate. Despite
the differing historical settings as well as the differing political
and philosophical commitments of the individual thinkers, these
questions thus constitute the common themes that connect their
heterogeneous approaches to revolution. For each of these
questions, the intent is to display the extremes of the spectrum
on which important theorists of revolution operate and to
indicate paradigmatic stances they take on this spectrum. It is
with the help of this analytical framework that the various
approaches to revolution since its intellectual discovery can be
individually situated and systematically related to one another:
The original revolutionary experience in the context of the
American and French Revolution as reflected in the writings of
Jefferson, Paine, Sieys, and Condorcet; its reception in German
Idealism; the further development of revolutionary thought in
different versions of Marxism; its application to the problem of
colonialism in the 20th century; and, finally, contemporary
debates about the relevance and meaning of revolution informed,
among other things, by the crises of late capitalism and
representative democracy