Rousseau Seminar 1962

508 Pages·2014·3.097 MB·English

by  Leo Strauss

Leo Strauss

Seminar in Political Philosophy: Rousseau

A course offered in the autumn quarter, 1962

The Department of Political Science, The University of
Chicago
Rousseau, autumn 1962
Table of Contents

Session 1 1-23

Session 2 24-49

Session 3 50-65

Session 4 66-92

Session 5 93-121

Session 6 122-154

Session 7 155-182

Session 8 183-214

Session 9 215-244

Session 10 245-276

Session 11 277-307

Session 12 308-337

Session 13 338-371

Session 14 372-404

Session 15 405-437

Session 16 438-469

Session 17 470-505
Rousseau, autumn 1962 1

Session 1

Leo Strauss: I will speak about Rousseau in general and, starting from the most external
side, of the way in which he is generally discussed today in this country. To the extent
that I know the current literature, Rousseau is today frequently contrasted unfavorably
with Locke, and I believe much of the present-day understanding of Rousseau which is
available to us is exactly this understanding. The view is this: Locke [is] in a way the
father of liberal democracy. [The] simple proof [is] the direct relation of the Declaration
of Independence to Locke’s Second Treatise of Civil Government.1 Rousseau, [on the
other hand], is called a totalitarian, and especially the connection between Rousseau and
the French Jacobins is mentioned in this connection. Related to this is [that] the key term
in Locke is “property.” Locke used the word “property” in a large sense, implying also
the body, life, and liberty; but the comprehensive term is “property,” and this of course
throws also some light on how he understands life, and liberty: as forms of property.
“Property” is the key word. In Rousseau, in contradistinction, the key words, one would
say, are “liberty” and “equality,” surely not “property.”

Furthermore, Locke is well known as a man much concerned with a reservation of or for
the individual of a private sphere; and therefore, connected with that, he is known and
praised as the author of letters on tolerance. Rousseau, on the other hand, is understood to
be opposed to this reservation of a private sphere; the famous formula, the social contract,
means that the individuals surrender themselves and all their powers to the society. So
one can call this totalitarianism. One point I mention right away: whenever one speaks of
the totalitarianism of Rousseau, one must in simple fairness say that Rousseau has
absolutely nothing to do with present-day totalitarianism, because the totalitarianism
which Rousseau praises is the totalitarianism of society, not of the government. That is
practically of some importance. You know, when we speak today of totalitarianism, we
mean the totalitarianism of government, and only indirectly of society. Rousseau speaks
only [of], one could say admits and demands only, the totalitarianism of society. To
explain this contrast with Locke: Locke [gives a teaching of] tolerance; Rousseau [gives]
a teaching of civil religion, a state religion. The last point in this overall survey of the
difference between Rousseau and Locke [is that] Locke stands for representative
government—1688—and Rousseau for direct democracy: no representative assemblies,
but the citizen body assembling in a town-meeting, as it were, is the legislator. These are
the undeniable facts; crude, but undeniable facts.

So you see that since we are today in the grip of the cold war, it appears naturally that
Locke is a much better authority for those who are opposed to communism than
Rousseau is. But the picture is a bit more complicated, for the following reason: there
was one man who was a pupil of Rousseau and had a certain influence on American
affairs, and that was Thomas Paine. There was also a connection between Thomas Paine
and Thomas Jefferson. So the view which some very patriotic authors now hold, that
America was never contaminated by Rousseau, is probably exaggerated. But there is
another side of Rousseau where the influence is quite visible. There has been going on for
a long time in this country an enterprise called progressive education. You must have
Rousseau, autumn 1962 2
heard of that. Now this is of course directly the work of John Dewey; but the father of
progressive education was none other than Rousseau, whose Emile is a basic book. I
begin with this purely political, not to say ideological, consideration so that we become
somewhat critical of this simple labeling.

In order to arrive at a broader view, I would suggest the following consideration: let us
look at the consequences of Rousseau, and not take the simplistic view that the French
Jacobins were the only men who derived from Rousseau. [It is, of course, true that]
Jacobins and all later Jacobinism modified, including Marxism2 [derived from Rousseau].
But this is only one offspring of Rousseau; there are others. The other offspring is
German idealistic philosophy. That is unthinkable without Rousseau, and that is perfectly
clearly stated by Kant, the founder of this German philosophy, who said, “Rousseau has
brought me into right shape.”i There is a well-known thing of Kant regarding what he
owed to Hume, that Hume awakened him from the dogmatic slumber;ii but the statement
about Rousseau is much more far-reaching than the statement about Hume. We will see
later on what this means. So German idealism, which has very little to do with
Jacobinism and that kind of thing also developed from Rousseau. But above all,
romanticism in all its forms has been generated by Rousseau. And that means all notions
of Volk, of nationalism, those in the peaceful and in the not-so-peaceful understanding,
stem from Rousseau; and all sorts of3 [organicists], as they4 [came] to be called in the
nineteenth century, have their ultimate root in Rousseau. The main point which I must
emphasize is this: the German idealism understood itself as viewing man and political
society from a loftier point of view than, say, John Locke, especially,5 [had] done. And
Rousseau has very much to do with this loftier view, as we shall see. The key word of
Rousseau is virtue. No one, however enamored of Locke, could say that the key word of
John Locke is virtue. Property, yes; freedom, to some extent—ordered freedom. But
virtue is not the favorite term of Locke.

The second consideration—I propose, though, that we take a somewhat broader view,
and not merely the view generated by the present political situation—is this: Locke and
Rousseau, in spite of their antagonisms, have something very important in common. Both
begin their political theory with reflections on the state of nature. And the key
phenomenon which determines both the state of nature and the transition from the state of
nature to civil society, the fundamental human phenomenon for both of them, is self-
preservation. This is unchanged on the way from Locke to Rousseau. Now, this kind of
political theory, which starts from the state of nature and regards as the crucial
phenomenon self-preservation, was originated neither by Locke nor Rousseau, but by
Hobbes. So what Locke and Rousseau have in common is a Hobbean basis. In other
words, however important the difference between Locke and Rousseau is, it is

i From the notes Kant made in 1764-65 in his own copy of Observations on the Feeling of the
Beautiful and Sublime (1764). See Immanuel Kant, Notes and Fragments, ed. Paul Guyer, trans.
Curtis Bowman, Paul Guyer, and Frederick Rauscher (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2001), 7.
ii Immanuel Kant, Prolegomena to any Future Metaphysics, trans. Paul Carus, rev. James W.
Ellington (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett, 2001), 5.
Rousseau, autumn 1962 3
nevertheless a difference on a common ground; and we misunderstand Rousseau as well
as Locke if we do not always keep in mind this common ground.

Now, on the basis of this somewhat enlarged view of the situation—I mean, taking into
consideration on the one hand that Locke and Rousseau are building on a Hobbean
foundation and secondly that Rousseau originated German idealistic philosophy and
romanticism—we can perhaps venture this more general statement, which you will take
for the time being merely as an assertion, naturally: we are compelled to speak of modern
political philosophy in an emphatic sense. By this I mean a political philosophy which
exists only in modern times. Not all thinkers in modern times were modern political
philosophers—the mere fact that someone lives around 1830 or 1960 does not yet [in
itself] make him modern6. But on the other hand, there is a kind of political thinking
which is peculiar to modern times. This characteristically modern political philosophy
understood itself as fundamentally different from the earlier kind of political thinking;
and this earlier political philosophy was thought to7 [have been] originated by Socrates,
whose most famous successors are, of course, Plato and Aristotle. Everything which
happened afterward in political philosophy strictly understood—so-called Stoicism, even
Scholasticism in the most famous cases, at any rate—does not involve a break with this
Socratic foundation; great modifications, but no break. But in modern times, and with
particular clarity in the case of Hobbes, a conscious break with the whole Socratic
tradition took place. This has also a very complicated history, and I will limit myself only
to what is indispensable for the present purpose.

Now, this political philosophy—as it was originated by Hobbes in conscious opposition
to all earlier political philosophy—was very powerful up, roughly, to the time of the
French Revolution. Then its defects led to a new kind of political philosophy, which was
however not a return to the ancient, pre-modern political philosophy, but a very profound
modification of what Hobbes and his immediate predecessors had said. I will now speak
for convenience’s sake of the first wave, of Hobbes and so on, and of the second wave,
which roughly came into being at the time of the French Revolution. This wave, the
second wave, I would tentatively say, was originated by Rousseau. The dissatisfaction
with the basic principles of modernity was for the first time stated, 8not from an ancient
point of view but from9 what was then a super-modern point of view, by Rousseau. The
only event which I believe we can compare with this great historical importance of
Rousseau—for good or for ill, but its importance cannot be denied—is Nietzsche. When
the movements generated, quasi, by Rousseau—the German idealism and all its famous
followers in other countries, including Great Britain, and also romanticism in all its
forms—when they somehow seemed to be unsatisfactory, a new revolution, a new
explosion as it were, occurred. And that is Nietzsche, who knew quite well—in fact he
said this more than once—[that] his opponent was Rousseau. This is only in the way of a
very general provisional statement. But we would be then compelled to try to understand
what is the meaning of this second wave of modernity; and therefore we must study
Rousseau. This is at least, I think, the broadest way in which one can approach Rousseau.
But there are also other reasons, more simple reasons, why one should study Rousseau; it
is not necessary to go into them.
Rousseau, autumn 1962 4
Now, in order to study Rousseau, one would [not] have to read10 everything which
Rousseau has written. This can be done only by people who are willing to sacrifice or
devote their whole life to the study of Rousseau. There are such people, but we cannot
possibly do that; because if you would go into a library and look at a complete edition of
Rousseau’s works and letters, you would become repelled by the magnitude of the task.
But there are some writings—and we should at least enumerate them—which are
indispensable for an understanding of Rousseau. These are the so-called two Discourses:
the First Discourse and the Second Discourse; and there is the Social Contract of course,
a very small writing, short writing; there is the Emile; there is his Confessions; and there
are some political writings of a more practical nature: the Government of Poland and
Corsica; and there is of course his famous novel, Julie, or the New Heloise. These are
probably the most important writings, and someone who has read all these and has
understood them could claim, I think, to have understood Rousseau. But we cannot do
that. To read even a part of them, we shall limit ourselves to the Second Discourse, the
writing of which Rousseau has said that this was his boldest writing; and the Emile,
which contains also a summary of the Social Contract, so that we are excused for not
reading the Social Contract here, and especially since the Emile is in a way the most
fundamental writing of Rousseau. He develops his psychology in the wide sense of the
term.

We must begin somehow, and since this is probably the most simple, we read the paper
today on the First Discourse. The title of the First Discourse is “Whether the Restoration
of the Sciences and Arts Has Contributed to the Purification of Morals.” This was a
question raised by a French11 [Academy] in Dijon in 1750 or 1751. Rousseau’s answer
was: the restoration of sciences and arts has not contributed to the purification of morals,
but on the contrary it has led to the depravation of morals. The restoration12 means of
course the development since the Renaissance. Was this modern development, from
roughly 1500 on, a blessing or a curse? And Rousseau says it was a curse. But the
important thing to see is that the academicians who raised this question were at least open
to the possibility that the question would have to be answered in the negative, unless the
question would be merely rhetorical. So the question was in no way peculiar to Rousseau,
but Rousseau was the one who gave this answer in 1751. And, to use a favorite
eighteenth century French phrase, he astonished Europe—il étonna l’Europe—by saying
this is all terrible, the sciences and the arts.

Now, Rousseau states right at the beginning what his point of view is. Rousseau’s point
of view is not that of the men of the Enlightenment, who called themselves les esprits
forts—the strong minds, free minds, free-thinkers, or philosophers; nor is it that of the
fanatic, of the bigot. But he takes the view of the man who knows nothing: he praises
ignorance; he takes the side of virtue or probity against science. But he does this on the
basis of the natural right—on the basis of reason. Now I will first give you a kind of
summary, and you will see that there are certain difficulties which will lead us somewhat
deeper. Rousseau begins the first part of this Discourse by describing the beautiful
spectacle of man’s13 [attempt at] universal knowledge, this magnificent spectacle which
was renewed, as he said, in the last few generations, meaning since roughly 1600. Prior to
that, Europe lived not in virtuous ignorance, however, but in a state worse than ignorance,
Rousseau, autumn 1962 5
still more despicable than ignorance. That is Rousseau’s description of Scholasticism,
although the term is not used. So you see, Rousseau is not simply opposed to science,
although he is opposed to science. We can say, and that will concern us later, he is
opposed to the supremacy of science. I read to you a passage which will be helpful for
later discussions.iii “The mind has its needs as well as the body. The needs of the body
form the foundation of society; the needs of the mind form the ornament of society.” The
foundation, the needs of the body; the ornament, the needs of the mind.

Whereas Government and Law provide for the security and well-being of assembled
men; Sciences, Letters and Arts, less despotic and more powerful perhaps, extend
garlands of flowers on these iron chains . . . and they extinguish in men the feeling for
that original liberty for which they seemed to be born, make them love their slavery, and
from them what one calls civilized People.iv

We see here already one point which will come up later. Government and laws, these
provide iron bonds. They establish slavery. And science and arts are inimical to what
Rousseau calls original liberty.

I do not have to go into the argument which takes up most of14 [this] place [in the text],
but which is not particularly interesting because it simply follows . . . is partly trivial and
partly a mere consequence. Rousseau’s attack on civilization is an attack on the
appearance of virtue as distinguished from virtue itself. In other words, people are polite;
they are externally nice in their conduct; but their hearts are black. There is no genuine
virtue. What we have to keep in mind is this: there is a connection in Rousseau, which we
have to explore, between virtue and original liberty. And this original liberty is illustrated
to some extent by the famous noble savage, peoples who are not civilized, but for this
very reason [are] morally superior to the civilized peoples. You know, this myth has
played a very great role, in popular literature especially, and Rousseau is perhaps the
most eloquent exponent of this view. But it is only a part of a very long argument. We
keep [this] in mind15; virtue seems to be connected with original liberty.

Now, what is that virtue? We find one definition, and that is this: virtue is the force and
vigor of the soul; of the soul, not of the mind. Rousseau does not develop this here, but in
some writings more or less contemporary with this, in a Discourse on the Virtue which is
Most Necessary for Heroes, for example, he says force of the soul is the true foundation

iii The class is using G.D.H. Cole’s translation, first published in 1913. See Jean-Jacques
Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses, trans. G.D.H. Cole (London:J. M. Dent, 1913).
But Strauss is translating from a French edition. While Strauss’s translations are sometimes
questionable, as one might expect of a scholar translating on the the fly, I will take note of such
translations only if they seems significant for the argument or otherwise noteworthy. [Ed.]
iv First Discourse (FD), 7-8; 5. Citations are first to Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Oeuvrès Complètes,
5 volumes, ed. Bernard Gagnebin and Marcel Raymond (Paris: Gallimard, 1959-95), then to an
English translation. The First Discourse is in volume 3 of the Oeuvrès Completes. The translation
is Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Discourse on the Sciences and the Arts (First Discourse) and
Polemics, ed. Roger D. Masters and Christopher Kelly, trans. Judith R. Bush, Roger D. Masters,
and Christopher Kelly (Hanover, NH-London: University Press of New England, 1991).
Rousseau, autumn 1962 6
of heroism.v And this force of the soul is explicitly distinguished from such things as
prudence, justice, and moderation. This is one crude element of Rousseau’s concept of
virtue: virtue [is] connected with original liberty, in essence pre-political, and as we see
also amoral. Let us keep this in mind.

I think I must read this to you. This is a good point.

Before art had fashioned our manners and taught our passions to speak an artificial
language, our mannersvi were rustic, but natural. Human nature was fundamentally not
better [LS: Say, these French of the fourteenth century were not better than the French of
the eighteenth] but men found their security in the ease with which they could penetrate
themselves mutually.vii

So, in other words, they were honest, without being good. Present-day Europeans,
eighteenth century Europeans, are dishonest and also not good. But there is a certain
virtue in this frankness of insufficient goodness. “Today, where more subtle researches
and a more refined taste have reduced the Art of pleasing to principles, there rules in our
manners a vile and deceptive uniformity, and all minds seem to be thrown into the same
mold. Constantly, politeness demands; decency orders. Constantly, one follows customs,
never one’s own genius.”viii

That is a crucially important passage; I will try to explain that. I have spoken before of
the connection between virtue—one meaning of virtue in Rousseau—where virtue is
connected with original liberty, with a pre-political state, and something which is
fundamentally amoral: the force and vigor of the soul, regardless for which purpose it is
used. Now we have another term connected with it: the virtue which Rousseau has in
mind is natural, not affected. It is, and that is the key point, individual.16 We are all by
nature individuals. Then we have to submit to rules, to rules of conduct, social rules
which command in the main the same for all. We are molded by the same form. This
affects, detracts from, our individuality. Now, this notion of the sacredness, as it were,
of17 individuality, would itself lead to the rejection of any universal rules or standards.
This is already implied in Rousseau, and was developed later on by romanticism, at least
by certain branches of romanticism, and today it is indeed very well known. This much
about this one concept of virtue which we must keep in mind. To repeat, virtue, the force
and vigor of the soul; emphatically natural; in no way molded by society or any law; and
meaning individuals' goodness consists not in being good according to any standard of
excellence, but in being yourself.

v Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Discourse on the Virtue Most Necessary for a Hero, in The Social
Contract, Discourse on the Virtue Most Necessary for a Hero, Political Fragments, and Geneva
Manuscript, ed. Roger D. Masters and Christopher Kelly, trans. Judith R. Bush, Roger D.
Masters, and Christopher Kelly (Hanover, NH-London: University Press of New England, 1994),
9.
vi Strauss’s unusual translation of moeurs, a notoriously difficult term to translate, which connotes
both manners and morals. Strauss also translates maniéres as “manners” earlier in the passage.
Cole’s translation is “morals.”
vii FD, 8; 6.
viii FD, 8; 6.
Rousseau, autumn 1962 7

Now, it gradually appears that Rousseau understands by virtue also something different,
namely patriotism, where the emphasis is not on the individual in his individuality, but on
the dedication of the individual to the common good, let us say to the fatherland. And in
this connection he attacks not the existence of rules, of laws, but rather the
cosmopolitanism and skepticism which were so powerful in his age. What the citizen as
citizen needs is certainty of conviction, of faith, and regarding himself as belonging to
this particular society—French, German, or whatever it is—and not as a citizen of the
world. In other words, virtue means in Rousseau also the characteristics of the republican
citizen, the republican citizen according to the usage of Montesquieu,ix the great French
thinker who died at about the same time when Rousseau emerged, of whom you will
know, if not directly, at least from the Federalist Papers.18 [Montesquieu] states [that] the
characteristic principle of democracy is virtue, as the principle of monarchy is honor, in
the feudal sense, and the principle of despotism is fear. The principle of democracy is
virtue. Now this virtue—that is a very long story in Montesquieu itself. But the primary
starting point is simply public-spiritedness, full dedication to the public weal, which is
not necessary in monarchy, and which is impossible in a despotism. So this is an
important point of Rousseau’s argument. These two notions of virtue, democratic or
republican citizen virtue, and the force and vigor of the soul, as before, are of course very
different, because there is apparently a connection between the individualism, if I may
use these terms in the sense defined, and skepticism, on the one hand, and between
citizen virtue and faith on the other.

The argument proceeds as follows: the corruption of our souls, the decay of virtue, is a
consequence of the sciences and the arts. And Rousseau asserts that this is the universal
law. He gives examples from the time of ancient Egypt, via Greece and Rome, and up to
modern times which all show that effeminacy is the consequence of the cultivation of arts
and sciences.19 [He praises] the simple peoples not affected by sciences and arts, and
especially of course of Sparta. Sparta is good and Athens is wicked; which of course has
a long pre-history in classical literature, and Rousseau simply takes this up. Yet there is a
difficulty which arises [inaudible word] at this point. Rousseau fights science; and
science I mean now in the wide sense where it includes also the arts, the fine arts. Now,
Rousseau attacks the sciences and the arts in the name of virtue, but virtue has here an
ambiguous meaning, as I have indicated. Yet he uses science for fighting science. He
uses argument, reasoning. So there must be some science. I mean, there is not only the
ambiguity regarding virtue; there is also an ambiguity regarding science. There is a
science which is an enemy of virtue, and there is a science which is favorable to virtue.
Otherwise Rousseau’s own science would not make sense. Rousseau helps us even to
identify that science which is favorable to virtue by using the name of Socrates.20 And
when Rousseau says of himself he is proud of his ignorance, [that] he knows that he
knows nothing, these are simply repetitions, one could say, of what Socrates has said.

So, Socratic science, one might say, is exempted from the verdict against science. He
quotes a passage from Plato’s Apology of Socrates, and—this is very characteristic—it is

ix See Montesquieu, The Spirit of the Laws, ed. and trans. Anne Cohler, Basia Miller, and Harold
Stone (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 1.4.5, 35-36, 1.5.2, 42-43.