This essay will focus on the
“pragmatic contradiction of liberalism” as outlined by Charles Taylor in
the excerpt from Multiculturism in
our textbook, and will attempt to defend Steven Rockefeller1 and
Michael Walzer’s2 proposed answer to this problem. I will therefore
strive to show that the law in liberal democratic societies must not be either
difference-blind or sensitive, but both
in a certain precise sense that will be expounded on below. The essay proceeds
in three stages. First, drawing primarily from Taylor, the problem faced by
liberalism is summarised. Second, Rockefeller’s observations are presented;
Walzer builds on these, and his arguments will form the final step.
Taylor
begins his discourse of the politics of equal recognition by considering two
major changes that have taken place in Western society, the first of which is the
move from a culture of honour to one of dignity. This brought with it the politics
of universalism; Taylor refers to it as “the politics of equal dignity.” Universalism
emphasises the equal dignity of citizens, and the political fulfilment of this
has been in the equalisation of rights and entitlements. He notes that
universalism is so appealing, that even persons who wished to deny African
Americans voting rights all those years ago, did so under pretexts consistent
with this philosophy.
The second change is the development of the notion of
identity, and it has given rise to what Taylor calls “the politics of difference”.
Though the notion that every person has a unique identity follows from
universalism, its ramifications in the political sphere are different. While
the politics of equal dignity requires “an identical basket of rights and
immunities” for each person, the politics of difference requires recognition of
the uniqueness, the distinctness of each individual; the lumping together of
this unique identity with that of the majority group is the “cardinal sin”, as
it were, against the idea of authenticity.
He notes that the politics of dignity clearly has an
“entry point” into the politics of difference as on the most basic level, both
are concerned with the denunciation of discrimination on any grounds—this is equality
in its most fundamental form. A closer examination however, reveals that their
interests do not align much further than that; as Taylor says, “The universal
demand powers an acknowledgement of the specificity.” In other words, distinct
minority groups do exist in our society, and hence the politics of equal
dignity is fighting to protect something that really isn’t universally present
in the first place. This problem is two-sided however: the politics of
difference, in the name of recognising the identity of each human being, often
discriminates by providing differential treatment to certain groups.
While this disconcerting difference of interests might be
explained away in the case of groups that have been subject historically to
discrimination—here differential treatment is due as recompense, and to raise
these groups up to the level that the rest of society enjoys—the seriousness of
the divergence becomes apparent when laws that uphold or cherish distinctness
on the grounds that one’s culture (for instance) is fundamentally intertwined
with one’s identity are considered.
One way to explain this difference, Taylor proposes, is
to consider the underlying intuitions of each value. The politics of dignity is
based on the idea that all humans are equally worthy of respect, which in turn
can be based on the concept of the universal
human potential. It is this potential itself, rather than what a man may
choose to make of it, that is worthy of respect. The politics of difference
however, has a different sort of potential at its core: here, it is the
potential to form and define one’s own identity as an individual, and as a
culture. But the main point of contention that the politics of difference has
with the politics of identity is illustrated with the Saul Bellow quote, “When
the Zulus produce a Tolstoy we will read him;” this remark seems to deny the
very principle of equality among cultures. As Taylor says, “The possibility
that the Zulus, while having the same potential for culture formation as anyone
else, might nevertheless have come up with a culture that is less valuable than
others [should be] ruled out from the start.” In other words, the politics of
dignity seems to go beyond an acknowledgement of the equal potential of humans
and cultures, and places value on what
they have made of this potential.
We can
here sum up the disagreement: the politics of dignity claims that the politics
of difference violates the principle of non-discrimination, while the latter
reproaches the former of negating identity and “forcing people into a
homogenous mold”. But the complaint that the politics of difference has against
the politics of dignity goes even further than that: the “mold” is in fact a
reflection of the dominant culture at the time, and it is only “minority groups
and supressed cultures that are forced to take alien form.” Therefore the so-called
difference-blind society is itself highly discriminatory. Taylor recognises the
seriousness of the complaints from both sides and hence does not attempt to
provide simple answers where none exist. To further the discussion then, we
turn to Rockefeller’s observations on Taylor’s essay.
His
main aim is to deepen the politics—and ethics—of equal dignity so that it can
make meaningful contact with the politics of recognition, and he undertakes
this by examining the politics of dignity in light of (1) the values of liberal
democracy, (2) the environmental movement and (3) the religious dimension of
experience. He additionally attempts to show that though the politics of
difference has a place in liberal democracies, in its extreme form it
“threatens to subvert the ideals of universal freedom and inclusive community”.
Firstly
from the point of view of democracy, a person’s ethnic or cultural identity is not his primary identity—this is
inherent in the above discussion, but Rockefeller makes it explicit. A person
claims equal recognition under the law on the basis of his universal human
identity and potential. In other words, he notes that Taylor’s argument that human
potential is at the center of the politics of dignity at the very least
relegates a lower position to the potential to define one’s own identity,
particularly culturally, which is at the center of the politics of difference.
This is not a mere difference of opinion as to what is “more important” to each
of these strands of politics within a liberal democracy; it is rather a
question of what is more important to a liberal democracy itself: “To elevate
ethnic identity, which is secondary, to a position equal in significance to, or
above, a person’s universal identity is to weaken the foundations of liberalism
and to open the door to intolerance.” Though this may seem like a rewording of
the main contention that the politics of difference has against the politics of
dignity, closer inspection reveals that it is in fact not. Here he is arguing that
the objective of a liberal democratic culture is to respect ethnic identities
and to encourage different cultural traditions to develop fully their potential
for expression of the democratic ideals of freedom and equality, “leading in most cases to major cultural
transformations [my emphasis].”
He
agrees with John Dewey then, that liberalism is the expression of a distinct
moral faith and way of life3. One can realise this “good life…by
living with a liberal spirit, showing equal respect to all citizens, preserving
an open mind, practicing intolerance, cultivating a sympathetic interest in the
needs and struggles of others, imagining new possibilities, protecting basic
human rights and freedoms, solving problems with the method of intelligence in
a nonviolent atmosphere pervaded by a spirit of cooperation.” Liberal
democracy, understood in this way, is first and foremost a way of individual
life, and its moral meaning is realised when institutions become instruments of
human growth and liberation.
Thus “when
a liberal society faces the question of granting special privileges, immunities,
and political autonomy to one cultural group…it cannot compromise on
fundamental human rights.” The liberal democratic ideal is opposed to the rigid
idea of cultural survival, and instead calls for the moulding of values according
to the ideals of freedom and equality, among others that democracy upholds—“cross-cultural
dialogue that transforms human understanding” deserves a special mention here. So
if a culture is so preoccupied with its own protection and growth that it
wishes the law to make exceptions in its favour at the expense of another
culture’s—or individual’s—freedom, it is operating contrary to the very spirit
of democracy that it wishes to be a part of.
The
environmental movement is used by Rockefeller to demonstrate how a politics of
equality might arise from a concern with the preservation of diversity—he attempting
to go deeper than the “entry point” discussed above. Like multiculturalists,
environmentalists wish to further the appreciation of the distinctness of
different forms of life, and by extension, campaign for moral and legal rights
of oppressed “groups”. Both philosophies attack hierarchal modes of thought;
cultural on the one hand, biological on the other. It can further be argued
that cultures are like life-forms; organic and evolutionary. “Each, in its own
distinct fashion, reveals the way the creative energy of the universe, working
through human nature in interaction with a distinct environment, has come into
a larger focus,” Rockefeller says; disease and disintegration are part of
evolution, and can hence be accounted for in this framework. Therefore, the multiculturalist
contends, all cultures must be treated equally. Closer scrutiny however,
reveals that inherent in this claim is the knowledge that cultures are in fact not
equal; akin to the notion “to honour everyone is to honour no one”, if all
cultures were indeed equal, equal treatment would be a non-issue. Nonetheless, the
“biocentric” view—that each culture is unique and hence worthy of respect—is
clearly not mutually exclusive from
the observation that cultures may not be equal; each has its place in a
democracy. To give a concrete example, in the issue of whether textbooks in certain
American schools should be rewritten to highlight the histories of particular ethnicities,
Rockefeller holds that what is needed is a “new, deeper appreciation of the
ethnic histories of the American people, not a reduction of American histories
to ethnic histories.” The two views presented above can in fact coexist if the
deeper ideals of liberal democracy are adhered to.
The idea
of the equal worth of different cultures, Rockefeller goes on, may also be grounded
in religious experience; all the arguments that are presented thus far for the
equal value of human identity reflect Biblical and classical Greek notions
“that there is something sacred about human personality.” But religious
perspectives bring heavy implications, as Rockefeller notes eloquently: “[Religion
is] opposed to anthropocentrism as well as to all egoisms of class, race, or
culture. It calls for an attitude of humility. It encourages a respect for, and
pride in, one’s own identity only insofar as such respect and pride grow out of
a recognition of the value of the uniqueness in the identity of all other
peoples and life forms.”
Building
on Rockefeller’s observations, Walzer begins by sharpening the distinction
between the two kinds of liberalism that lay immanent in both Taylor’s and
Rockefeller’s essay—he calls them Liberalism 1 and 2. Liberalism 1 is committed
in the strongest possible sense to individual rights, and by extension, to
neutrality. This state has no cultural or religious projects beyond ensuring
safety and guaranteeing freedom for its citizens. Liberalism 2 allows for a
state to pass laws that encourage the flourishing of one culture, as long as
the rights and freedoms of members of society who do not belong to that culture
are respected. However, Liberalism 1 can be chosen within Liberalism 2, since the latter presents several options, and
one of those is Liberalism 1. This is the option that Walzer himself—quite
rightly in my opinion—would choose. It is important to note that he is speaking
here primarily of Western democratic societies with immigrant populations and
minorities, like Canada and the United States. Walzer reasons, “[Immigrants to
societies like this one] intended for, and prepared to, take certain cultural
risks when they came here and left the certainties of their old way of life
behind…The communities they have created here are different from those they
knew before precisely in this sense, that they are adapted to, and shaped
significantly by, the liberal idea of individual rights.” So in the United
States—and to some extent Canada—cultural groups are left free to fend for
themselves, and do not rely on the state for support or recognition of their
particular projects, and this is precisely because this is the path that has
been chosen through the democratic process and actual life choices of the men
and women in these groups. So to frame it in the words of the question that we
started with, in a Western liberal
democracy committed to equality, law
should be difference-blind from within the framework of being difference-sensitive.
We
close with the consideration of language laws in Quebec. Do they fit the principles
of liberal democracy just discussed? I agree with Taylor and Walzer, who argue
that they do. This is a case where Liberalism 2 has taken precedence over
Liberalism 1, and this is precisely because democracy gives Quebeckers this
power. Quebec is a society with collective goals, and the government sees fit
that these goals are given the force of law. Since no fundamental rights of individuals
are infringed on, laws encouraging the flourishing of French Canadian culture
are completely acceptable by the standards that we have discussed above—recall
that Liberalism 1 is merely one option among several that Liberalism 2
presents. What about minority groups in the United States? Walzer notes, “What
would the state have to do to guarantee or even to begin to guarantee the
survival of all the minorities that make up American society? The various
minority groups would need control over public monies, segregated or partially
segregated schools, employment quotas that encouraged people to register with
this or that group…” Clearly in this case, because of the sheer number of
disparate voices calling out for recognition, the people have chosen Liberalism
1 from within Liberalism 2, as we noted above, and this is also in line with
the principles of liberal democracy.
ENDNOTES
1 Steven Rockefeller, “Comment” in Multiculturalism (New Jersey: Princeton
University Press, 1994), 87-98.
2 Ibid. 99-103
3 Rockefeller references John Dewey,
“Creative Democracy—The Task Before Us,” in Later
Works of John Dewey, 1925-1935, ed. Jo Ann Boydston (Carbondale: Southern
Illinois University Press, 1988), 14: 224-30
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