This is a particularly interesting book to read at the moment, given Australia’s rejection (in deed, if not in word) of international conventions on the treatment of refugees and asylum seekers.
Benhabib’s argument is situated in the history of philosophy and she provides various moral considerations on the issue surrounding how one might treat ‘the other’. She tracks this from Kant, through Arendt and Rawls, and then to her own view of the moral imperative – although all remains on much the same ground Kant would recognise. She has a very cosmopolitan view of the rights of others, but we should start, as she does, with Kant.
Kant’s work as a philosopher, in large part, involved seeking ways to prepare the ground upon which we can decide if ‘philosophy’ itself is even possible. If we lack the adequate equipment for the task – as, say, presumably dogs lack this ability – then we would be best advised to leave philosophy alone, in much the same way dogs tend to. This has lead to a lot of criticism of his work. Hegel, for instance, says that Kant wanted to understand if people could swim before they even got into the water, for instance.
All the same, and as a case in point, Kant wrote his Critic of Pure Reason essentially to answer the question ‘to what extent are the human faculties up to the task of understanding the world?’ Like I said, he didn’t muck around and liked to think about the biggest of the big questions of philosophy.
One of Kant’s major contributions is in the area of moral philosophy and the contribution he made was mainly with the book ‘Groundwork for a Metaphysic of Morals’. The question being, how can I know I am acting morally? His answer (he actually gives a three part answer, though he says each is equivalent to the other) is very similar to the golden rule – do onto others as you would have them do unto you. It is a bit more complicated than that, he was a philosopher, a bit more complicated is mandatory, but that gives a flavour if nothing else.
He also wrote a pamphlet called Perpetual Peace in which he asked how nations should respond to each other – particularly in ways that facilitate their peaceful co-existence. His answer was pretty much an application of the golden rule to international relations – treat other nations as ends, rather than means to your own ends.
He also recognised that from time to time, on a planet with limited space, we were likely to be confronted by strangers that want/need to come onto our land – either to pass through or even to stay. So, what is the moral way of dealing with such people?
To Kant the answer was that nations have an obligation to treat such people with hospitality. As Benhabib stresses (and in fact, quotes Kant himself on this point) hospitality is an odd word to be using in this context. It being something we would normally associate with giving people a cup of tea, rather than how to go about treating refugees. But Kant’s point is that people have a right to life, and while a nation has no obligation to allow such people to enter their territory so as to stay forever, Kant felt that for our actions to be moral, which, as I’ve said, essentially means treating others as we would like to be treated if we were in their circumstances, then treating the stranger with hospitality is called for.
There is much more detail to this argument – not least on the limits to this hospitality and the various ways that such hospitality can be manifest – such as helping to address the reasons why these people have had to leave their homeland in the first place and therefore overcome the need for your direct hospitality.
Kant lived at a time when the Westphalian nation state was forming (there was a treaty of Westphalia that established that the prince of a territory was in control of that territory and essentially this treaty brought about the modern notion of a nation state – that is, nations are formed around bounded areas of land and that the people within those boundaries owe their allegiance to their prince). Western colonial expansion was also underway at the time. It is hardly surprising then that Kant might say it was the obligation of nations to welcome the stranger, while somewhat overlooking the fact that Westerners were likely to be the stranger and that these Westerners were also likely to be the advance party doing reconnaissance to eventually take from you everything you own.
Arendt was from quite a different time to Kant, and spent time after the Second World War as a stateless person. Our idea of ‘nations’ is much more recent than we often acknowledge and there has probably never been a time when there was a completely consistent ‘nation’ as both bounded landmass and well-contained ‘ethnos’. Europe, for instance, has always had its Gypsies, Travelling People, Jews: that is, its outsiders. They have often both been and not been part of the ‘nation’ in the general popular understanding and in their own consciousness. Hitler stressed, for instance, that the reason why Jews were so much trouble was that they were a people without a nation. This was, in fact, his major claim against them.
The 20th century, with its various ethnic cleansings, has complicated the notion of what is a nation and how they should respond to the other – the formation of Turkey, the expansion of Nazi Germany and so on, all created massive dislocation of populations of people deemed as not belong to various ‘nations’, despite these people’s having lived in the areas for longer than living memory. The end of World War Two saw an enormous number of ‘displaced persons’. Many of them with literally no way to ‘return’ to their previous homelands, and quite possibly also with effectively nowhere to return to even if they could go. As such, these people called into question much of the premise of the Westphalian state – or, at least, called into question how such a state might respond to such people.
Benhabib’s criticism of Rawls is mostly that his view remains very much ‘nation’ centric. That is, he does not really acknowledge a couple of things that ought to be very obvious in today’s world. The first is that there is a massive relocation of human populations and that these relocations are not going to stop any time soon. In fact, climate change and endless wars are likely to accelerate this movement of people beyond our comprehension. Regardless of what the future holds, what we are already witnessing makes the nation state difficult to sustain as a kind of ever-fixed entity. One has only to buy an atlas from the 1970s…
Globalisation, the free movement of certain people, goods and money, simply doesn’t extend to poor people. However, Benhabib’s concern is that rather than our moral responsibility being exhausted by offering hospitality and then encouraging people to move on – we need to acknowledge our responsibility for the situations these people find themselves in. As a case in point, Australia was more than happy to join the Coalition of the Willing and to bomb Iraq. After Australian troops were withdrawn our foreign aid support to Iraq dropped to zero – that is, we cut spending down to nothing. In such a circumstance, and regardless of the fact that we entered the war on a lie, it seems reasonable (and perhaps even moral) to ask is it really possible to argue that we have no responsibility for the refugees fleeing the circumstances we did so much to help to create? The truly sickening twist in this story is that now that ISIL is in control of large swathes of territory there we are able to find billion dollars a year to bomb Iraq again.
There is an interesting discussion in this on how a democracy ought to respond to the strangers in their midst. When can the stranger be allowed to become a citizen? To what extent is a sovereign people required to allow the stranger rights? When, for instance, are they entitled to vote? What rights do they have to have rights? This book is, in the main, a modern day application of Kant’s categorical imperative to the rights of the stranger given the degenerating nature of the nation state. In an age where we are too keen to build walls to keep the stranger out – both physical or metaphorical walls – our basic humanity is at risk.
This book begins as I will end, with a quote from the Immigrant Workers’ Freedom Ride 2003: ‘No human is illegal’.