By James M. Patterson
Monday, August 26, 2024
In 2018, when I first began engaging in debates over what
is today called “postliberalism,” more than a few of my fellow academics told
me not to waste my time. In their view, it was an especially niche debate among
a few mostly obscure and highly placed academic eccentrics.
But we should all care because postliberalism is now on
the presidential ballot, and many of the same people I spoke to are scrambling
to understand why and how. To do so we must understand what “postliberalism”
means, who the major actors are in developing its ideas and influencing
political elites, and the next steps for postliberals given that they now have
one of their own on the 2024 Republican presidential ticket in Ohio Sen. J.D.
Vance.
Put simply, postliberalism is three things. First, it is
an authoritarian ideology adapted from Catholic reactionary movements
responding to the French Revolution and, later, World War I. Second, it is a
loose international coalition of illiberal, right-wing parties and political
actors. Third, it is a set of policy proposals for creating a welfare state for
family formation, the government establishment of the Christian religion, and
the movement from republican government to administrative despotism.
The third point might sound unhinged, but postiberals
have come to object to liberalism. While most Americans know the term
“liberalism” as a reference to a left-of-center ideology common among
Democrats, the other common use is in reference to a political theory that
prioritizes individual rights as a source of political authority and human
flourishing. Postliberals believe this “classical liberalism” to be a
disembodied secularizing
(even satanic) force that
uses the language of liberty of conscience, representative government, and
constitutionalism to conceal the true liberal aim of denying the authority of
the highest
good. In their view, liberalism has presently fallen apart, and there is
now no need to
“conserve” classical liberalism as movement conservatives like William F.
Buckley Jr. to Milton Friedman and Ronald Reagan had argued.
On the contrary, postliberals want to end liberalism and
entirely replace it with what comes next—what is literally “postliberal.” Given
that liberalism entails liberty of
conscience, representative
government, and a constitution,
none of those will be part of a postliberal order. Citizens will become
subjects.
Personal liberty gives
way to bureaucratic
discretion. Market economies are replaced by an
alliance of corporate and state power.
What does that mean in policy terms? If Donald Trump wins
the presidency again in November, does that mean we could be one election away
from a postliberal America? The answer is, for postliberals, eventually. Postliberals
have adopted a long game, believing that they will not secure policy wins
all at once but rather one at a time. For example, family policy might wed
middle-class voters to postliberalism like tax cuts once united them to
movement conservatism. Family policy could thus become the leverage for future
postliberal positions, such
as giving China and Russia free hands in their spheres of influence. After
all, why should America spend money defending Ukraine when the nation could
spend that money on rebuilding the American family? This might sound
far-fetched, but one should consider that recommendations for a middle-class welfare
state and opposition
to Ukraine are coming from postliberals,
who are repeating messages from Viktor Orbán in the process. This is not
speculation but their stated position.
Much of this is new to many ordinary American
conservatives, but these arguments are actually quite old and have unpleasant
roots.
What are the historical roots of postliberalism?
“Postliberalism” as an ideology has complex origins:
medieval papalism, ultramontanism, and continental reactionary thought.
Medieval papalism was the school of thought that the
pope’s claim to spiritual authority over Christendom made him the true
sovereign over Christian subjects. Hence, the church could authorize a king’s
subjects to revolt against his rule in favor of a person the church favors.This
school of thought reached its zenith under Pope Boniface VIII, who issued the
1302 bull, Unam sanctam, to declare his spiritual sovereignty over
Christian kings. The result was that the French king, Philip the Fair,
kidnapped him, and Boniface died soon after of an “illness” and thus ushered in
a century-long religious and political crisis called the “Babylonian Captivity”
with its popes and anti-popes. We are not off to a good start.
Ultramontanism (based on the Latin meaning “beyond the
mountains,” meaning the Alps) was the successor ideology to papalism after the
Reformation and the rise of nation-states. In this case, ultramontanism
referred to the deference Catholics should pay to obeying the pope over secular
laws when the two were in conflict.
Finally, and perhaps most obscure, is the rightwing
continental reaction to the French Revolution, which requires more explanation.
For post-revolutionary reactionaries on the European continent,
liberalism—based on the belief that individual rights informed political
authority—was the effort of radicals to destroy traditional institutions of
authority, namely the throne and altar. So continental reactionaries did not
engage with liberal ideas as much as they sought to discredit them by attacking
their supposed origins—Jews and Freemasons—and the shadowy agents that inserted
them into national political life.
Early reactionaries like Louis de Bonald in his 1806
article in the Mercurie “Sure le Juifs” joined Adam Smith’s concept of a
commercial society to the prosperity of the Jews, for example, and how their
continued freedom would spell their control of France. Later reactionaries,
like Louis
Veuillot, Henri
Roger Gougenot des Mousseaux, and Édouard Drumont,
fashioned conspiracy theories joining the Jews to the Freemasons in what became
known as the “Judeo-Masonic”
conspiracy theory. The conspiracy experienced widespread
adoption, as Catholic
clerics and political
operators bought into it for its convenience in exonerating the old
Catholic monarchies they hoped to restore. Rather than absolute monarchs being
corrupt or incompetent, they became, for reactionaries, innocent victims of Jewish tricks
and Masonic
treachery.
Postliberalism in the 20th century.
World War I ended reactionary hopes for the restoration
of the monarchies of the past. Many monarchists shifted to becoming
“integralists” or rightwing revolutionaries who hoped to establish modern
states with a Catholic dictator overseeing bureaucratic administration. The
ideological architect for this project was mid-19th century Spanish monarchist
Juan Donoso Cortés, but much of his work had become obscure until Nazi jurist
Carl Schmitt resuscitated it in his critique of the Weimar Republic and, eventually,
his support of the Third Reich. In 1923, Schmitt saw
in the papacy the last remaining example of a person who both represents
the church in that he speaks for it but also in that he is the church in his
person:
The political power of Catholicism
rests neither on economic nor on military means but rather on the absolute
realization of authority … the Church is a concrete personal representation of
a concrete personality … But it has the power to assume this or any other form
only because it has the power of representation. It represents the civitas
humana. It represents in every moment the historical connection to the
incarnation and crucifixion of Christ. It represents the Person of Christ
Himself … The Catholic Church is the sole surviving contemporary example of the
medieval capacity to create representative figures.
This treatment of the papacy echoes his 1921 book Dictatorship,
wherein Schmitt affirmed that the dictator requires “personal representation.”
Modern liberal states, in Schmitt’s view, expose their people to a constant
struggle over power that only a dictator could settle. In the same way that the
pope speaks as the final authority in the Catholic Church, so does the dictator
speak as final authority on national affairs.
While initially resistant to the rise of Adolf Hitler and
the Nazi Party, Schmitt warmed to them and found a way to fit Hitler into his
own thinking. For this, the Nazis gave him a prominent professorship from which
he defended Hitler’s extra-judicial killings and the need to “purge” German law
of the “Jewish spirit.” Though Schmitt ended up on the outs with the Nazis by
1936, he never disavowed them during their control of Germany.
Prior to World War II, different combinations of
integralists, monarchists, and fascists collaborated to seize control (or
attempt to) of national governments in Spain,
Portugal,
Austria,
Belgium,
Brazil,
and Argentina.
During the Second World War, there were postliberal regimes in Slovakia,
Croatia,
and France—all
three run by Nazi collaborators.
Postliberal parties and governments have each been unique
but the general conceit was the same: A nation has a corrupt, poorly managed
parliamentary regime that governed a population with high levels of
illiteracy—all held together by a combination of the army, patronage, and
political inertia. Once ideological polarization became bad enough for
partisans to take to the street in riots, the military often intervened to
establish a dictatorship.
Among the most radical right-wing parties were the
integralists, Catholic nationalists, and monarchists of these nations. Those
who supported integralist parties during this period were often middle-class
Catholics, much of the Catholic clergy, large landowners, industrialists, and
right-wing intellectuals. Given that they believed the only alternatives were
continued disorder of liberal parliamentarianism or a socialist takeover, they
sided with the integralists, who often themselves were in coalition with
monarchist or fascist factions, as well as the army.
What does contemporary postliberalism look like?
How did postliberalism move from fringe Catholic ideology
to the GOP vice presidential nomination in less than a decade in the person of
Sen. J.D. Vance? After all, most Americans do
not want what historical postliberals have proposed. To explain requires
understanding how postliberals aimed to move from developing an ideology to
creating an elite movement. On the ideological front, Notre Dame legal scholar
Patrick Deneen has done much to break with the old Judeo-Masonic conspiracy by
attributing the problems of liberalism not to shadowy conspirators but to the
inevitable consequences of adopting liberal principles in law, culture, and
economics. Liberalism becomes “structural” for postliberals the same way racism
is for critical race theorists—the
system itself is the source of the problem. That said, not all postliberals
have opted for Deneen’s “structural turn,” as some
stricter integralists, Alan Fimister and Fr. Thomas Crean, for
example, have defended denying Jews and Muslims citizenship.
Vance has shown much more interest in Deneen’s position
than Fimister’s and Crean’s.
That said, there is still plenty of continuity between
the older and contemporary postliberals. Legal scholar Adrian Vermeule
regularly cites Veuillot
and Schmitt.
Political theorist Gladden Pappin likes to recommend the
pamphlet, “Liberalism Is a Sin,” by antisemitic integralist priest Fr. Félix
Sardà y Salvany. Recently, while appearing on
Catholic Bishop Robert Barron’s Word on Fire program, Deneen even
asserted that recent events had proven their anti-liberal positions right. He
also included ex-Cardinal Louis Billot, who in 1927 surrendered his position as
cardinal after refusing to leave the antisemitic French monarchist party Action
Française.
But contemporary postliberals have not merely held
conferences or written essays. They have conceived of a new ideology and
political program to implement it.
In 2018, Vermeule argued for
a 21st century approach to Pope Leo XIII’s 1884 call for French Catholics
to participate as citizens in the French Third Republic. He called this “integration
from within” wherein well-positioned Catholic integralists use their
academic prestige to mint new integralist elites to influence public policy and
run for office. They would then introduce Catholic integralism to the extent
possible in a kind of right-wing “march across the institutions.”
Vermeule had a plan, but Pappin had institutional access.
As a professor at the University of Dallas Pappin helped build a
network of like-minded rightwing
illiberals across
Europe
and the United States before eventually becoming president of the Hungarian Institute of International Affairs in
Budapest. From there he brings American policymakers and academics to Hungary
and Hungarian policymakers and academics to America. Pappin has since
integrated Hungarian influence into conservative
institutions such as the Intercollegiate
Studies Institute,
the Heritage
Foundation, and even the leadership
of the American Institute for Economic Research. Hungary has become
something of a go-between
for postliberalism and authoritarian
regimes like Russia and China, with postliberals being among the loudest
opponents
of support for Ukraine and advocates
for the Chinese model of economic corporatism and administrative
oversight.
But the problem for them, at least in America, was always
that while Donald Trump was good for demolishing the movement conservatism that
had predominated in the GOP since the 1980s, the former president was an
imperfect vessel for postliberal ambitions.The only real gain they secured was
Vermeule’s 2020 appointment to the Administrative Conference of the United
States, which, according to its website, is “an independent federal agency
within the executive branch whose statutory
mission is to identify ways to improve the procedures by which federal
agencies protect the public interest and determine the rights, privileges, and
obligations of private persons.” For postliberals, this appointment was
something, but not much.
What they needed was a politician of their own. That
politician has turned out to be Vance, who converted to Catholicism in 2019. In
a speech in 2022 at a postliberal
event held at Franciscan University of Steubenville in Ohio, Vance
mentioned that he had “admired … from afar” some of those in attendance while
others he had “gotten to know very well over the last few years.” A year later,
after winning his Senate seat, Vance admired them up close at the book launch
of Deneen’s Regime Change, where he declared
himself a postliberal. Vance has made many public statements backing
postliberal public policies, such as granting greater voting
power to parents of large families, and he has publicly
praised
Hungarian President Viktor Orbán as a
model for effective conservative governance.
Even now, Vermeule is training conservative Harvard Law
School graduates to adopt his negative view of the U.S. Constitution, as Mark
Tooley discovered in a recent interview. The number of these postliberal
elites will grow as the class of 2028 begins classes in a few weeks. It is
filtering into some Catholic seminaries and has made its way into American
Protestantism under the name of “Christian nationalism.” When my friends
advised me to leave this alone in the hope that this nonsense would go away,
they were wrong.
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