Ciceronian international society

The meaning of international society

One of the great theoretical contributions to the study of international relations is that of “international society,” first identified as a phenomenon for study by Martin Wight (1991, 2005), and then more fully examined by Hedley Bull (1977). According to Wight, the central question of any theoretical approach to the study of international relations is “what is the nature of international society?” Wight (1991, 1966: 92, 94, 105) identified three thinkers with three answers: Niccolo Machiavelli, Hugo Grotius, and Immanuel Kant. ²

Kant and Machiavelli reject international society as an ordering principle in international politics: for Machiavelli, international society was the pretense of morality in world governed by power and self-regard, and for Kant international society was an immoral construction that violated the sacred rights of man (Bull, 1976: 104–105). ³ For Grotius, international society was both a reality of international relations, and a framework for the moral evaluation of foreign policy.

It is striking that Kant and Machiavelli are both modern theorists and both reject international society as an ordering principle of international relations. The third thinker, Grotius, defends international society and is only ambiguously a modern thinker. Grotius does emphasize rights and the social contract—hallmarks of modern political theory—but remains heavily indebted to ancient and medieval political theory (Geddert, 2014; Pangle and Ahrensdorf, 1999: 162). While Grotius does not rely on any particular source exclusively, Cicero is a consistent presence throughout The Rights of War and Peace. ⁴ Hence, there is reason to think that the concept of international society is ultimately of classical origin, and that Cicero provides a particularly clear articulation of the idea in classical political theory. I argue below that Cicero does in fact articulate elements of a theory of international society, which in turn might offer new insights into the character of that society. ⁵

According to Bull (1977: 13), international society

exists when a group of states, conscious of certain common interests and common values, form a society in the sense that they conceive themselves to be bound by a common set of rules in their relations with one another, and share in the working of common institutions.

Not every international system is an international society, but where it exists, international politics appears to be more social in character, oriented toward common ends by common means. Those ends include, but are not limited to, the preservation of international society itself, the preservation of the independence of each state, and peace within the society (Bull, 1977: 16–18). Rules and institutions are the means to these goals. The rules include an acceptance of the integrity and independence of each member of the society (classically articulated in the doctrine of state sovereignty), limits in warfare, and upholding international law; the institutions to uphold those rules are the balance of power, international law, diplomacy, rule of the great powers, and war (Bull, 1977: 70–74).

International society presumes the existence of separate and independent political communities, engaged with each other, each recognizing the freedom of the others. Inasmuch as international society presupposes the existence of independent political communities, as well as a role for power and conflict, it is theoretically similar to realism and anticosmopolitanism (Shapcott, 2008: 189). ⁶ In that it makes space for, and emphasizes the importance of, cooperation, institutions, and ends that transcend the national interest narrowly conceived, one might say the notion of international society also shares elements with cosmopolitan theory. Hence the apparently contradictory character of Bull’s book title.

Cicero, as I show below, offers support for this approach to studying international relations. We can see this through Cicero’s account of the law of nations and keeping faith, his teaching on property, and his teaching on war. Even as Cicero offers support for the concept of international society, he offers avenues that deepen the concept, especially through the notion of honor, and with it, the notion of ruling among states.

While the following will show considerable support for a notion of international society, we must exercise care in interpreting Cicero’s (1945: 5.4) thought, given his penchant for hiding his real views on philosophy and politics. Cicero suggested that this is the proper mode of philosophic writing as it spurred on greater thought in the reader, inviting him to walk along the path of philosophy with the author. Furthermore, Cicero points out more than once that Romans were suspicious of philosophy as alien learning diluting Roman virtue. Many scholars have shown that even apparently straightforward Ciceronian texts raise far more questions than they answer, and do not reward the careless reader (Benardete, 1987; Kries, 2003). We can see this phenomenon especially in Cicero’s dialogues, in some of which the author is not even present. In this way, Cicero falls among the other great political writers. Cicero, then, should be read with appropriate care—we should not assume that Laelius fully represents Cicero’s views on warfare or the natural law, as will become clear in the following.

Keeping faith

A key feature of international society is the principle of pacta sunt servanda, or that promises are to be kept. Because there is no world sovereign that legislates, adjudicates, or enforces law among nations, it is up to each state to take on that role for itself with respect to other states. Since each state takes on the role of lawmaker, judge, and enforcer, each state claims radical equality and hence reciprocal independence with respect to the others (Vattel, 2008: Preliminaries, §4, §8, §16, §18). In such a legal situation, each state relies on other states’ good faith in keeping the obligations outlined in treaties or the customary norms of international life. What does Cicero teach us on the subject of keeping faith?

In de Officiis, Cicero (2016: 1.23) claims that

fundamental to justice is trust—that is to say, the constancy and honesty of assertions and agreements. Consequently, although this will perhaps seem too rigid to some, nevertheless, let us dare to imitate the Stoics, who eagerly seek from whence words are derived, and let us accept that trust is so called because what is said should also be done.

Keeping faith is a way of maintaining union between word and deed, which for Cicero is a fundamental part of justice. Maintaining the union between word and deed is integral to the upkeep of trust, and trust in turn is integral to the very possibility of political community, that is, a union of free people united by justice and a common conception of what is good for all (Cicero, 2013: 1.39). Hence, all social and political bonds rely to some extent on trust, whether we mean the bonds between citizens or friends. When this trust is absent, the relations between individuals will be more like those of master and slave, or tyrant and subject. Telling the truth is a sign that we live in a properly political community rather than a despotism.

As such, keeping faith with fellow citizens, friends, and family is the normal course of affairs. Cicero, however, extends this principle to foreign policy, including enemies in wartime. Cicero (2016: 1.39) writes, “even if individuals have been induced by circumstances to promise something to an enemy, this very promise ought to be kept in good faith.” To make his point, Cicero offers the example of Regulus, a Roman statesman captured by the Carthaginians in the First Punic War. The Carthaginians sent him back to Rome in order to negotiate the release of Carthaginian prisoners of war, along with a promise to return. Although he went to Rome, he persuaded the Senate not to return the prisoners, and returned to Carthage, knowing that he was to be tortured to death. He also offers the example of Roman soldiers captured after the disastrous defeat at Cannae in the Second Punic War. Ten of these soldiers were sent to Rome, again to negotiate the return of Carthaginian prisoners of war (Cicero, 2016: 1.40, 3.113). Rome was so committed to keeping faith, even with as bitter an enemy as Carthage, that it bound and returned one of the prisoners who had tried to remain in Rome.

Cicero appears to offer a strict approach to the keeping of promises, and consequently, provides a foundation for international law. Using Rome as an example, he makes it clear that it is a basic part of justice that states live up to their treaty obligations, or even informal promises made to each other. Considerations of utility should not cause the violation of obligations. The ground for obligation among political communities, as it is with each case we take from Cicero (2016: 3.27–3.28), is the universal society of human beings. Indeed, Cicero (2016: 3.23) claims that law, in every form, ultimately aims at human unity: unity among citizens, which is civil law, and unity among all human beings, which is natural law or the law of nations. ⁷ While civil law aims at the unity of the city, the law of nations aims at the unity of humanity as such. Breaking one’s word is a grave injustice precisely because it harms this natural unity of human beings.

The keeping of promises, then, is not a commitment to a rule of life abstracted from its social context. The force of the precept comes from the natural community of all humanity, and the obligation to cultivate that community. Since the natural community of humanity finds its roots in human nature itself, the precept to cultivate humanity as a whole has the character of a natural law. So natural law itself provides the force behind the general obligation for political communities to keep their promises.

Cicero appears to stand at the opposite extreme of Machiavelli, who advised princes that they should not overly concern themselves with keeping their promises because of the wickedness of human affairs. Indeed, where Machiavelli tells princes to act unjustly, for the sake of advantage, Cicero claims there can be no division between the noble, just, and advantageous. And as Machiavelli does not look to any authority above the prince himself, Cicero appeals to the natural unity of humanity and the natural law that protects that unity as authorities to which political communities should bow. All this supports the conclusion that Cicero’s international theory is certainly at odds with a raw realism, and that the social character of human existence is the most salient point for his theory. The question remains as to whether it supports a cosmopolitan, Kantian, reading of Cicero.

Cicero (2016: 3.107) qualifies his strict admonition to keep promises by saying “often good faith must be observed in oaths sworn to an enemy.” Why only often instead of always? Pirates are not protected by the law of nations or the natural law for Cicero, because “a pirate is numbered among those designated an enemy proper, but is the common foe of all; thus there is no common ground for good faith of sworn oaths.” Likewise, justice does not apply to tyrants, since they have separated themselves from humanity and may be treated accordingly (Cicero, 2016: 3.32). ⁸ Indeed, Cicero (2016: 1.31) goes so far as to argue, “there often occur circumstances when those things that especially seem to be worthy of a just human being, and for which we call a man ‘good’, change and become the opposite.” For Cicero, the goods must be kept in mind more than the rule itself. The good of the promisee must be borne in mind—if a fulfilled promise harms the promisee, it is better not to fulfill that promise (Cicero, 2016: 1.32). Other goods must be considered as well when we think about fulfilling certain promises—what is good for my political community, what is good for another’s, and then what is good for the community of humanity. Pacta sunt servanda is not an absolute principle.

Cicero’s argument about the plasticity of promises corresponds to the concept of rebus sic stantibus in international law. Rebus sic stantibus allows for the disregarding of promises if circumstances change to make the fulfillment of those promises highly damaging to the promiser, in a way that could not have been foreseen at the time that the promise was made. The rule does not demand that, in order to be released from the promise, the harm done to the promiser outweigh the good done to the promisee, but it is an illustration of the rule of pacta sunt servanda being relaxed depending on the circumstances and consequences. ⁹

We can conclude that while Cicero’s thought generally supports the rule of pacta sunt servanda, and gives that rule the force of the natural law supporting the unity of all humanity, he is aware of the problem of living by a strict rule of justice. Because justice is most of all upholding the common good, rules and laws must be evaluated according to the standard of reason, or what benefits all. Consequently, reason governs law. The subordination of law to reason is significantly different from Kantian theory, which identifies reason with law with respect to just action. But, generally speaking, upholding the natural unity of mankind militates against lying and failing to fulfill our obligations even to our worst enemies. That our worst enemies might have a claim of justice in our conduct with them leads to the question of what belongs to whom.

Stability of possession

Another elementary goal of social life, according to Bull, is “stability of possession,” or, more simply, “property.” Although societies may organize themselves in different ways with respect to property, all observe some sort of arrangement whereby the goods external to human beings are settled (Bull, 1977: 19). International society, especially inasmuch as it is divided into sovereign states, can be said to be akin to a society in which each individual has an absolute claim to his property, where each oversees his own life and property. ¹⁰

While the concept of property is intimately related to the concept of sovereignty, and hence the cornerstone of Bull’s notion of international society, Cicero’s teaching on private property is ambiguous. In de Officiis, Cicero (2016: 1.20–1.21) makes it clear that for ordinary human life, the laws and customs regarding property are a matter of justice:

To be sure, no property is private by nature, but rather owing to long-standing occupancy, as when a people formerly arrived at an unoccupied area; or to victory, a when they acquired it through warfare; or to law, agreement, contract, or lot. Thus it happens that the land of Arpinum is said to belong to the Arpinates, Tusculum to the Tusculans, and a similar assignment of other private possessions. Therefore, since what becomes each person’s own is actually part of those things that had been by nature common, whatever happens to fall to each person’s lot, he ought to keep. And if someone should desire another’s property for himself, he would be violating what is right for human association.

Cicero argues that private persons ought to dispose of their property as they see fit. This part of justice, however, is decidedly not natural. By nature, all things are common—no bit of earth or wealth belongs to one person or another. Nor does property become private by work, but rather through tradition, war, or consent. Cicero explicitly compares the possessions of entire peoples, such as the Tusculans, to the possessions of an individual. Hence the lands that belong to a community also belong to that people by tradition, war, or consent. Thus far, there is some analogy between the property of individuals and the property of communities, and so the rules governing possessions may be applied to the relations between political communities. This is abundantly clear with Cicero’s inclusion of war as a just claim to property.

For Cicero, property relations are more a matter of what is reasonable for communities rather than the natural law itself. Because human beings are naturally inclined toward association, they need principles regarding the allocation of material goods to one another. ¹¹ The institution of private property is a useful convention rather than a natural right (Cicero, 1931: 3.68). Cicero (2016: 2.74) draws out the relation between private property and the political community in Book II of de Officiis:

For it is especially owing to this cause—that people may keep what is theirs—that commonwealths and cities were established. Although human beings were gathered together under the guidance of nature, nevertheless, it was in the hope of defending their own property that they sought the protection of cities. ¹²

In this account of the origin of the city, Cicero claims that it first came into being out of self-interest and the desire to protect property, showing some similarities to the Lockean account of the rise of civil society (Wood, 1988: 111–115). Plans of redistribution are unjust. Indeed, the political importance of private property is so significant that Cicero (2016: 2.73) strongly suggests avoiding property taxes, although circumstances may require them. While Cicero’s account of the origin of the city given here is like a foreshadowing of Locke, the likeness is seriously qualified when Cicero (2016: 1.158) says that reducing human community to mere self-preservation is an error. Cities and the laws of cities are for the sake of human happiness, which means living honorably, that is to say, virtuously (Cicero, 1945: 5.5, 2013: 4.1–4.3).

Considerations of virtue lead Cicero to qualify further the institution of private property. If Cicero emphasizes the social utility of private property while denying its naturalness in de Officiis, in his work of political philosophy proper, the Republic, he makes a more radical statement regarding property. Scipio Africanus, the Socratic hero that assured the survival of Rome by destroying Carthage, argues that the natural law actually gives the “wise” the right to claim and use all things. Wisdom, in this case, would be knowledge of what is good and thus how precisely each thing should be used for the sake of the true good. Scipio’s statement also implies that the ownership guaranteed by civil law is in some way unjust, since it guarantees the use and possession of goods to those who probably do not know the proper way of using them, and consequently probably use them badly. This allocation, in turn, is good for neither the city nor the individual (Cicero, 2013: 1.26–1.27).

The context of Scipio’s statement of the natural law and preeminence of the wise suggests that natural ownership is not practicable for political life, which must make do with the cruder principle of private ownership guaranteed by Roman civil law. This also suggests that Rome, and every polity, makes serious concessions to human frailty—the possession of wisdom is clearly very difficult, but human beings must make use of property, and so the ignorant must be suffered to own what could harm them. This also happens because those who should rule, according to Scipio, prefer not to but do so out of a sense of duty. The philosophic statesman ought to rule, however, and when he does rule there is no limit to his authority. It is perhaps for this reason that, of the pure regimes, Scipio prefers kingship.

Cicero’s account of private property is far from an absolutist one, then. Rather, political prudence suggests it as a way of making sure the wealthy do not seek to undermine the city and that it has the resources necessary to act (Nicgorski, 2016: 184–185). Likewise, peoples and cities do not have an absolute claim to the territory over which they rule. Rules and customs that recognize that cities rule over one territory and not another act as a way for cities to govern their relations. While no city has a natural claim to its territory, the division of the earth is a useful way for peoples to order their relations. Cicero then seems to support Bull’s contention that international society makes use of territorial sovereignty (private property) not because it is naturally just, but because it is a necessary concession for social order to exist at all. ¹³ At the same time, we find limitations and qualifications in the teaching. In particular, those things that belong to each city or people could perhaps be rightly claimed and used by the philosophic ruler, of whom Scipio himself seems to be an example.

The use of Scipio in this context is provocative. He and Laelius are clearly the two most important characters in the Republic, Cicero associating Scipio with war and Laelius with peace (Cicero, 2013: 1.18). One cannot help but wonder about how we are to think about the destruction of Carthage and Numantia, carried out by Scipio—was it a case of the prudent exercising natural right? After all, Scipio’s most famous political actions consist not in respecting the right of Carthage and Numantia to continue possessing their territory, but in destroying each city.

We come, then, to the question of war. If Scipio is most famous for his exploits in war and his Greek philosophy, it is of course through war that Rome itself was founded (Plutarch, 2001: 359). In fact, Scipio draws attention to the fact that Rome itself was founded by the seizing of the property of others, the justice of which depends on the wisdom of Romulus and the wars he waged. ¹⁴ The original justice of Rome depends on the wars that made it great (Cicero, 2013: 2.26). Yet the first passage we saw regarding property states that war is a normal way of gaining possession.

Since war is a normal way of acquiring property or territory, and war is presumably unjust since it relies on force and thus seems nothing other than robbery, the original possession and acquisition of property is criminal for every new city (Cicero, 2013: 2.30, 45). If one wishes to claim that the origin of the city is not a crime, one must be able to defend the forcible transfer of territory from one people to another, or, in other words, defend the justice of war.

War

Like law and the stabilization of possession, the reduction of the violence of war is a key element of international society. War particularly captures the curious character of international society. As Bull puts it, “war is a manifestation of disorder in international society, bringing with it the threat of breakdown of international society itself into a state of pure enmity of war of all against all.” At the same time, “war is a means of enforcing international law, of preserving the balance of power, and, arguably, of promoting changes in the law generally regarded as just” (Bull, 1977: 187–188). ¹⁵ On one hand, war reveals the apparently anarchic nature of international relations and, on the other hand, it represents the attempt of international society to maintain its special character—a society ruled by no one, and yet maintaining some semblance of justice.

Therefore, war is a central concern for Cicero. Rome, as the best city, is the emphasis of his political thought, but Rome in his time is no longer merely a city. It is a city that is also an empire (Cicero, 2013: 3.18, 26). That empire was gained by territorial expansion, which of course entailed seizing that which belonged to another. Because seizing that which belongs to another is a classic example of injustice, it would seem that Rome’s imperial rule was gained in an unjust fashion, by force rather than by right. It is precisely this proposition that makes up Philus’ theoretical assault on justice in Book III of the Republic.

Philus, unwillingly, presents the argument that justice is either wholly conventional or weak, and that either way to order your actions to benefit others is wholly foolish. He argues, “the justice that we seek is something political, not natural; [natural] justice would be the same everywhere and for all, like sweet and bitter or hot and cold.” Instead we find that in “many, varied nations” there are dramatically different ideas about justice. The hegemonic Greek cities had unlimited imperial goals, for the Athenians “even used to swear publicly that all land is theirs that bears olives or crops” while the Spartans “said that all territories are theirs that they can reach with a spear.” Likewise, Rome, the current leading city, treats her Gallic neighbors unjustly, not allowing the tribes on the other side of the Alps to grow grapes or olives so that Roman wine and olive oil are more valuable. Philus uses this opportunity to distinguish the just from the prudent, saying “when we do this, we are said to do so prudently, but we are not said to do so justly, so that you may understand that wisdom differs from fairness” (Cicero, 2013: 3.9).

Likewise, nearly all cities require taking land from someone else in the act of foundation, and hence all political communities rest on a basic injustice. In order to avoid this conclusion, the Athenians and Arcadians claimed to be earthborn, so that no one else could claim a prior right to their territory and thus accuse Athens or the Arcadians of injustice. If wisdom differs from fairness, then however wise Romulus may have been, Rome is still unjust in its origins. ¹⁶

Philus argues that the expedient moves human beings. This is especially true of cities: “No city is so foolish that it does not prefer unjustly commanding to serving justly” (Cicero, 2013: 3.14). There is no such thing as a correct regime, or “republic,” since all human beings prefer the private good to the common good. Hence even Rome itself, as a mixed regime that Scipio calls best, is simply a form of mutual weakness because no one part of the city can dominate others. In the balance of the mixed regime, its justice comes from weakness and not nature (Cicero, 2013: 3.17). One might say that justice, inasmuch as it exists, depends on a balance of power. The history of Roman foreign policy confirms the superiority of advantage when there is a failure to balance against it (Cicero, 2013: 3.18).

Laelius, the other chief speaker in the Republic, responds to Philus’ attack on justice by defending justice as a way of evaluating foreign policy, and grounding that justice in nature rather than the Roman regime alone. He argues,

Unjust wars are those that have been undertaken without cause. That is to say, no just war can be waged except for the sake of avenging oneself or driving back enemies . . . No war is held to be just unless it has been proclaimed, unless it has been declared, unless it concern recovering property. But our people has already gained possession of the entire earth by defending its allies. (Cicero, 2013: 3.24–3.26) ¹⁷

The immense Roman Empire does not rest on unjust foundations.

Justice is not merely conventional, determined by this or that political community. Its foundation is reason, understanding nature correctly. Reason, correctly understanding nature, provides precepts of justice according to which life should be ordered. This is not to say that human beings must abide by this law—the wicked do not obey the natural law. The existence of natural law does not depend upon all people following it, nor even on all people knowing that it exists (Cicero, 2013: 3.33).

Having provided an account for justice that extends beyond the borders of the city, and consequently can govern the relations between states, Laelius offers two criteria for a just war: it must be formally declared and that it must be due to some previous injury. In de Officiis, Cicero is more specific about the nature of just war and its requirements. While discussing the justice of punishment, Cicero (2016: 1.34–1.35) writes,

The laws of warfare must be observed especially in public affairs. Now there are two kinds of arbitration: one through discussion, another through force. Although the former is characteristic of a human being, and the latter of brutes, we must have recourse to the latter if not permitted to use the former. Thus war must be undertaken for this cause: that we may live in peace without injury.

This largely agrees with Laelius’ account of just war. It is natural for human beings to live in peace, but that peace must be a peace in accordance with justice. Cicero here also notes the contradictory character of war—it is in some way the opposite of politics and right human conduct, based as it is on force, but it should be subject to precepts of justice.

It is worth noting here that “natural” has two senses for Cicero, each of which signifies its origin from the Latin word meaning birth. On one hand, “natural” means the things that come first in time—in this sense Cicero (2013: 2.13, 27) refers to the natural as the oldest thing and that which is closest to the gods. This is akin to the Stoic concept of prima naturae, the first things of nature, which are not the same as the ends of nature. On the other hand, nature also means that which is complete, perfect, and final. Hence political life and the virtuous man is also natural (Cicero, 1931: 1.12, 2013: 1.59–1.62). Thus in Cicero’s writings we can see evidence both that the origins of human history are subpolitical (and correspondingly violent) and that it is natural for human beings to live in peace.

In the same portion of de Officiis, Cicero (2016: 1.38) goes on to argue the following:

When struggling over rule and war is sought for glory there certainly ought to be the same underlying causes that I said above are just causes for war. But these wars that have the glory of rule as their object must be waged less harshly. For as when we struggle with a fellow citizen one way if he is an enemy, another if he is a rival—the latter a struggle over honor and distinction, the former for life and reputation—so war was waged with the Celtiberians, and Cimbrians, as if with deadly enemies, simply to survive, not to rule; but the struggle with the Latins, Sabines, Carthaginians, and Pyrrhus was over rule. Yes, the Carthaginians broke treaties, Hannibal was cruel, but the rest were more just.

Although war should always begin with a just cause, the redressing of rights does not have to be the only aim of the war—in fact, avenging injury fades into the background. In its place are ruling and survival, and just war as traditionally understood applies only to cases of war for the sake of rule.

Just wars, then, can be fought as part of the struggle between cities for rule over other cities. Cicero also describes this war as one over “honor and distinction” and compares it to the ordinary civic competition that we see in the domestic life of cities. Honor, and specifically the honor of ruling and possessing more power and authority than other political communities, appears as both a natural and even a praiseworthy aim of warfare. In these wars, in which the struggle for power is concerning who will govern whom, there are stricter rules regulating the use of violence. Some of those rules were covered above: keeping faith with our enemies, even the cruel and ruthless Carthaginians, and respecting their territory in times of peace. Other rules include avoiding what Cicero (2016: 1.40) calls “criminal means,” like assassination of the opposing ruler. Hence, the war against the Macedonians, which Cicero takes to be a frank struggle for hegemony, must be conducted with scrupulous attention to the precepts of justice found in the law of nations and the natural law.

War is also for survival. In this case, the war will be harsher, more violent, more criminal, and without reference to the ordinary rules of justice. In the passage above, Cicero identifies German barbarians as those who do not merit the benefits of the laws of war, but other examples that Cicero gives for this sort of conflict are pirates and tyrants. Promises made to pirates are not binding, since pirates are outside the moral bounds of human community and have declared war on all (Cicero, 2016: 3.107). Likewise, tyrants are outside the bounds of ordinary morality—it is perfectly acceptable, and even praiseworthy to rob and murder a tyrant, comparing such actions to the action of a surgeon amputating a gangrenous limb. As Cicero (2016: 3.32) writes, “this feral and savage brute with the figure of a human being must be removed, as it were, from the common body of humanity.”

Cicero then clearly delimits a fundamental distinction in humanity—those who are within the great human association, the cosmopolis, and those who are outside it. The former seems to include all politically developed peoples, while the latter are those are either prepolitical or subpolitical, such as pirates and Germanic barbarians, or the politically decayed tyrant. ¹⁸ In either case, justice in a strict sense should govern war, but it will be more recognizable in the former.

It is not entirely clear how we know whether our enemy is in one group or another. While Germanic tribes clearly posed an existential threat to Rome, the same could not be said of Macedonia. Cicero reflects this difference by referring to the war with Pyrrhus as one over rule rather than survival. The case of Carthage is more ambiguous. Although Cicero includes the rival city-empire with other decent political communities that merit just treatment by Rome, he also points out its cruelty and injustice. Scipio’s role in the Republic also suggests that the destruction of its defeated rival was justified by Scipio’s wisdom (Cicero, 2013: 6.15). ¹⁹

Cicero’s account of war, then, supports the notion of international society. War must be justified and take place within limits. The Roman Empire can be justified as the wars that Rome fought were always for the sake of some injury, either to itself or to an ally (Phillipson, 1979: 100–105). ²⁰ Wars of extermination can be justified because some enemies lie outside the universal association of humanity. ²¹

More importantly, Cicero identifies honor as a key motivation for going to war. Honor is necessarily a political good—honor requires the recognition of excellence by others, and especially excellence as a citizen or a ruler. Honor, or glory, is the only payment to the good ruler that somewhat appropriates the goodness of just rule (Cicero, 2016: 1.65, 2.31). So the life of ruling is bound up with the life of honor, and honor, as Cicero tells us, is best had when the ruler’s prudence and justice are recognized by the ruled.

Honor in international society

Cicero’s political teaching offers much support for the concept of international society. This is evident with his explanation of keeping faith, stabilization of possession, and laws of war, each of which corresponds to the social goals of life, truth, and property (Bull, 1977: 5). As I argued above, however, Cicero connects just war to honor and rule. While all wars should begin with just cause, the goal is not simply a restoration of rights, but also preeminence in honor and ruling.

We might say, then, that a key motivation for the struggles between political communities is the desire for honorable superiority. Cicero (2016: 1.61–1.65) associates this motivation with the virtues of greatness of soul and courage. These virtues seem the noblest, because they involve hardship and scorning the ordinary human goods of peace, life, wealth, or comfort. He then points out that, “The Roman people itself excels in greatness of soul. Their devotion to martial glory is further attested by their statues we see, nearly all of which are dressed in military attire.” Romans are fearless of death, and their fearlessness is the cause of their imperial rule.

For Cicero, however, greatness of soul, if not governed by justice and prudence, can be one of the worst traits for human beings. He notes that this greatness of soul is characteristic of tyrannical cities, cities that use their power and greatness of soul to dominate others. Cicero (2016: 1.64) reports,

But what is really hateful is that this elevated and magnanimous spirit can so very easily be imbued with obstinacy and excessive longing for preeminence. For example, we read in Plato that all the customs of the Lacedaemonians were inflamed with a longing for conquest; and so it happened that whoever was especially preeminent in greatness of soul also especially wanted to be the preeminent ruler, nay, the sole ruler. It is difficult to maintain equity, especially characteristic of justice, if one wishes to defeat everyone.

The desire to rule, while not bad in itself, is easily corrupted by unjust intentions. Those intentions include being unequal to all others and defeating them. Cicero, like the Greek political thinkers, accuses the Spartans of using their greatness of soul and courage for unjust ends. Spartan hegemony over other Greek cities, and mastery over the helots, was unjust and motivated by an inordinate desire for rule and preeminence. In fact, the greatest acts of injustice are by those individuals who seem great souled: “the loftier a person’s spirit, the more readily he is impelled to unjust acts out of a longing for glory” and “when most people fall prey to a longing for public offices, honors, and glory, they are so carried away that they become oblivious to all considerations of justice” (Cicero, 2016: 1.26, 65). This is especially the case in international politics, because “whenever there is a situation in which many are unable to excel, a great struggle usually occurs in which it is exceptionally difficult to preserve a sacred association.” While Cicero is specifically referring to the transition from an oligarchic Rome to the tyranny of Caesar, the same could be said of international politics, given the relative fewness of potential rulers. ²²

Thus, Cicero does not think that all rule is good, or that war for the sake of honor or rule is necessarily, virtuous. Wars for the sake of ruling international society must be guided by justice. Those cities that wage these wars justly, then, are responsible for “the greatest of deeds” and possess “the greatest of souls” for their beneficence “pertains to the most people” (Cicero, 2016: 1.92). If unjust, the city that wages the war for rule is similar to the tyrant city, like Sparta. And since among the hallmarks of the just ruler is orientation toward the common good or the good of the ruled, we assume that those just and great souled cities that seek hegemony do so for the benefit of allies and humanity as a whole. Presumably, Rome’s greatness of soul and courage, which allowed it to achieve preeminence in Mediterranean society of cities, should be oriented to the good of the cities that it rules. Cicero (2016: 1.149, 2.26–2.27) suggests elsewhere that Rome’s diplomatic and strategic conduct is an example of a generous foreign policy.

But Cicero repeatedly recollects the example of Sparta, the unjust hegemonic city that used its superior spiritual qualities to exercise a harsh and selfish sort of government over other Greek cities. Its failure to exercise noble and honorable rule was part of the reason for its fall at Leuctra, and reminds us of the practical limitation to the quest for honorable rule among cities. For while many wish to be preeminent, very few govern that desire with wisdom and justice. The result is that one should expect the majority of ruling cities to rule as a grasping tyrant rather than a generous king or patron. Such a mode of ruling is contrary to republican government, which is a basic element of the good life for human beings (Cicero, 2016: 3.36). To preserve free political communities against those cities that long for unjust rule, or, to put it another way, to preserve self-rule against the unwarranted ruling of those who happen to possess more power, potential tyrannical cities must be guarded against. Just as the few within a republic must guard against any one of their fellows from ascending to preeminence incompatible with freedom, so also free cities must watch each other carefully to guard against any one city in the society of cities from attaining tyrannical power over all. As in Philus’ attack on natural justice, we see here the balance of power, the tacit inverse of the honorable struggle for rule among cities. The balance of power is a necessary institution to preserve the “republican” character of international society, a society of free and relatively equal political communities, rather than a society ordered and defined by a political community of preponderant capacity to rule. As such, both the drive toward hegemony and the policy of preventing the fulfillment of that drive through prudent alliances depend on the desire for rule and honor.

The goal of ruling, and the associated honor that goes with it, shows that Cicero offers a serious theoretical contribution to the notion of international society. This is not to say that Cicero discovered the importance of honor in international life—one need only think of the Athenian speech in Sparta recorded in Book I of Thucydides. But, unlike the claims of the Athenians, the yearning for honor is necessarily connected to the question of justice in Cicero—the meting out of justice requires the desire to rule. Cicero sees that a common political and social phenomenon is the struggle for power and rule—it is a normal part of political life both within and without the bounds of the city (Pangle, 1998: 258–259). Indeed, there is reason to think that Cicero sees the desire for rule as an ordinary cause for war, and part of what makes a war just or unjust. The desire for rule culminates in hegemonic international politics, unless a balance of power is able to form. Both the balance of power and hegemony find their origin in the spiritual drive for honorable ruling. In the one case, it preserve the republican character of free political communities existing in a social way with one another, in the other, a more ordered society in which one political community generously considers the interests of other communities.

Within the work of Bull, however, there is little recognition of the role of honor, glory, and the desire to rule. This, in a sense, is unsurprising since Bull wishes to articulate a theory of society without government or the state. Such a theory would necessarily need to ignore social goals that are tied up with ruling—ruling necessarily implies inequality of some sort, even if rule is shared or rotated. Consequently, Bull (1977: 17, 67–69, 71–72) emphasizes the juridical equality of states in his theory. Of course, Bull is aware of the obvious inequality that marks international politics. One of the main institutions of international society is the rule (“management”) of great powers. Most of the greater questions of international politics, especially regarding war and conflict, are especially dealt with and decided upon by the great powers. At times, the institution of great power management seems to be the most important institution of international society to Bull (1980). As such, there is an internal tension in the concept of international society: an emphasis on the great good of the sovereignty and thus the equality of states, with the necessity of more powerful political communities that act in ways that clearly undermine the premise of sovereign equality.

International society depends on a phenomenon that theoretical expositors such as Bull downplay or ignore. Cicero, as well as other ancient political thinkers, helps us see this fact better by putting the desire to rule and possess honor—or what one might call the desire for human nobility and greatness—at the front and center in our conception of political life. Including ruling and being ruled, and a desire to exercise the virtues of justice, prudence, and greatness of soul helps flesh out the notion of international society, and in doing so, makes the theory fit the appearances better.

Conclusion

Ciceronian international society proposes certain features of international life, which, while not eternal or permanent, do recur over history. Particularly, Cicero’s account of how political communities should relate to each other while also claiming independence reveals similarities to our own Westphalian system. If sovereignty, as a political and legal concept, waits until the modern era to be articulated fully, the classical world emphasized republicanism and its opposition to an empire or universal monarchy. The republicanism that we see in Cicero’s political thought is carried through into his international theorizing. Concepts such as mutual trust, property, and honor are vital to classical political thought, and these concepts are just as useful in thinking about the relations between political communities. This suggests that the fundamental phenomenon of international society—political communities living without the benefit of an overarching state, and yet living within certain rules and norms—is not unique to modern politics, and consequently does not depend on the concept of sovereignty. This suggests that international society is not merely an accident of human history, but rather a manifestation of human nature.

This is not to say that Cicero’s approach to international society is equal to modern approaches. Cicero’s insistence on the honorable ruling of international society, with its concomitant inequality, is a reasonable and praiseworthy goal. Because the upholding of justice is a worthwhile goal, then, as far as Cicero is concerned, we must also prefer the rule of great political communities that can better uphold justice among cities. Certainly, the spiritual drive that causes great cities to rule can easily be perverted into a tyranny, but the danger of tyranny does not negate the need for some sort of ruling, and thus some sort of inequality in international society. As argued above, Bull was certainly aware of this, but he did not provide much theoretical support for how to mesh the need for “great power management” with the juridical equality demanded by international society. Cicero provides a possible avenue for combining both freedom for individual political communities and a rudimentary order necessary to maintain the conditions that permit that freedom. This is not at all a mere academic question: the obvious inequality within the United Nations (UN), symbolized by the privileged status of the permanent five members of the Security Council, are responsible for restraining violence and threats to global peace. To do so, the permanent five rule over other states in a way that other states cannot rule over them, suggesting that the pursuit of the common good of peace requires a constitutionalized inequality, some effectively ruling and others ruled. This is a, if not the, major example of how contemporary international society is well understood through Cicero’s eyes: the pursuit of justice requires honorable (i.e. recognized in the UN Charter) ruling, which in turn requires inequality that is at odds with the juridical equality usually presupposed in international society and established in UN Charter 2(1). Hence, the other organs of the UN that do not touch on unjust conquest—the expression of an unjust greatness of soul—do not reflect great power inequality.

Ciceronian international society is a particularly rich concept. While Cicero offers theoretical support for international society in explaining the importance of keeping our promises, respecting another’s possessions, and rationally controlling the violence of war, he also explains the existence of inequality and suggests why that inequality is necessary. The existence of great powers, or even a single hegemon, is a necessary feature for international society because every society requires ruling. And since the ruling of many people is morally praiseworthy, and as such is honorable and worthy of glory, the honor of rule is a rational goal for every political community that has the wherewithal to make that rational goal a reality. Making provision for the just expression of this natural inequality, while also safeguarding against unjust expression, remains the challenging task of modern international society.