HOBBES, OR THE LIMITS OF WISDOM

 

 

 "As Hobbes asserts, the state of nature is a state of injustice and violence, and one must necessarily leave it in order to submit to a legal constraint, which limits our freedom only so as to make it compatible with the freedom of others and, thereby, with the public good. To this freedom there is therefore also attached the freedom to submit one’s thoughts and doubts to the judgment of the public when one cannot clarify them by oneself, without thereby being regarded as a turbulent and dangerous citizen." (I. Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, II.1)

 

Introduction

Hobbes, as has often been repeated, offers a pessimistic view of human beings and of society, and proposes an authoritarian and security‑oriented response. One should instead regard human beings as capable of solidarity in order to defend a “democratic” society. Yet even if human beings are indeed capable of mutual aid, they are at the same time embedded in social structures that place them in competition with one another; and even if a “democratic” society is possible, it cannot dispense with regulation and safeguards. In other words, Hobbes is perhaps not absolutely incompatible with a progressive approach to politics.

The purpose of the Leviathan is to defend the State. But it seems to me that Hobbes’s analysis applies equally to other institutions. His central idea is that natural coordination among human beings is insufficient, and that it is necessary to construct an artificial structure in order to guarantee justice. Ultimately, Hobbes contributes to social ontology and to the problem of the binding force that unites individuals. His solution rests on the fear of violence and on each person’s self‑interested calculation.

What is also remarkable in the Leviathan is its systematic dimension. As in Plato’s Republic or Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit, Hobbes attempts to provide a synthesis of the different branches of philosophy, in particular epistemology and political philosophy. Contemporary philosophy has generally turned away from this kind of overarching project, preferring to concentrate on specific issues in epistemology, ethics, or aesthetics. It is indeed legitimate, for the sake of precision, to focus on particular questions. But this does not, in my view, require us to forbid ourselves from zooming out in order to study the articulation of large domains. One can be just as rigorous in cartography at the scale of a world map as at the municipal level, just as one can analyze the anatomy of an animal as well as the structure of a cell.

What may seem particularly timely in Hobbes, on the other hand, is his critique of jargon and of the misuse of language, which evokes the positions of Carnap or Ryle. Hobbes’s nominalist approach leads him to treat cognitive processes in linguistic form, avoiding the inflation of psychological terms that one finds in part of modern philosophy.

The synthesis of the Leviathan we now propose should allow us to recontextualize this work in light of our own areas of interest, as we have just outlined in the introduction. The questions that will arise as we follow the structure of the book will be: How are physicalism, empiricism, and nominalism articulated in the Leviathan? Why does human nature, as Hobbes conceives it, lead us to oppose one another? What exactly is the political solution proposed by Hobbes?

 

I. True Philosophy

Knowledge begins with sensation, which is caused by the object. Sensations are the effects produced by the object upon our senses (“Part. I, Ch. 1, Of sense”). Then this sensation, as an effect on us of the object, persists even when the cause has ceased to act and the object is absent (“Ch. 2, Of imagination”). What remains is an image that represents the object and its properties in its absence. This image is stored and becomes memory. “Imagination and memory are but one thing, which for divers considerations hath divers name.” There is continuity between imagination and memory. These faculties are less independent modules than different ways of considering the processing of sensory data. The distinction thus established between physical object, sensation, and mnemonic image raises the following skeptical problems: To what extent does sensation provide us with valid knowledge of objects? To what extent is the mnemonic image capable of faithfully preserving sensory information?

But Hobbes does not seem to pursue these questions in depth. He deals instead with the relations between representations in what he calls mental discourse (“Ch. 3, Of the consequence or train of imaginations”). The organization of this mental discourse, according to relations of causes and effects, is governed by our desires and our fears. “From desire, ariseth the thought of some means we have seen produce the like of that which we aim at.” The experience we have of things, thus fixed within mental discourse, leads us to improve our conduct: “by how much one man has more experience of things past, than another, by so much also he is more prudent, and his expectations the seldomer fail him.” With experience, we know in advance what will be a source of pleasure or of pain.

The mechanism of the cognitive faculties described so far is common to human beings and other animals. The distinction appears only with verbal discourse as an auxiliary to mental discourse. Language serves to fix representations, to transmit them to others, and to add to them the expression of our will. There are also aesthetic and playful uses intended to produce pleasure. However, abuses are also possible, when one uses incorrect expressions, or lies, or seeks to wound by means of speech (“Ch. 4, Of speech”).

In addition to the functions of language, Hobbes sets out the types of words he uses: proper names, common names, names of material things, of their qualities, of the impressions they produce in us, and names of names or of discourse (e.g. “general,” “universal,” “special,” “equivocal,” “affirmation,” “interrogation,” “command,” “narration,” “syllogism,” “sermon,” “oration”). With this typology, one should be able to detect category mistakes and false problems that arise from misuse of names: “therefore of absurd and false affirmations, in case they be universal, there can be no understanding; though many think they understand them, when they do but repeat the words softly, or con them in their mind.”

A particularly important linguistic function is then presented: calculation, which is carried out on the basis of clear concepts. Here Hobbes takes as a model of scientific knowledge the hypothetico‑deductive model of inference from an axiomatic definition (“Ch. 5, Of Reason and science”). Truth depends on the accuracy of the order of words among themselves. Logical inference seems equivalent to causal determinism (one could translate it as counterfactual dependence, as in “no fire, no smoke”). The question of the relation between language and states of affairs does not seem to be raised. “A man… can by words reduce the consequences he finds to general rules, called theorems, or aphorism; that is, he can reason, or reckon, not only in number, but in all other things, whereof one may be added unto, or subtracted from another.” Logical‑mathematical rigor constitutes the method that allows one to avoid confusions and absurdities. It is disinterested, in that it follows the objective order of things and not that of subjective preferences.

Thus conceived, science belongs to an art, a know‑how through which one masters syntax on the basis of definitions. “The first cause of absurd conclusions I ascribe to the want of method; in that they begin not their ratiocination from definitions; that is, from settled significations of their words; as if they could cast account, without knowing the value of the numeral words, one, two and three.” The elimination of absurdities concerns the regulated use of language. As for the question of error, which Hobbes distinguishes from absurdity, it pertains to experience and is combated by prudence. Non‑human animals, like human beings, commit errors when they act imprudently or lack experience. But only human beings formulate absurdities when they do not master the art of reasoning. One may nevertheless wonder whether the separation is really so clear between the two. Does reasoning not require experience and prudence? And does prudent action not benefit from the art of reasoning?

The distinction between empirical errors and logical absurdities leads Hobbes to separate history, as knowledge of events based on sensation and memory, from science (or philosophy), founded on logical demonstration. Now thanks to science, when we know the dependence of one fact upon another, we are able technically to master phenomena: “when we see how any thing comes about, upon what causes, and by what manner; when the like causes come into our power, we see how to make it produce the like effect.”

In that case, when we say that knowledge of history allows us to avoid repeating the errors of the past, are we mistaken about the domain? If history is not a science, how could it guide our practice? For this to be possible, past events would have to be, at the same time, facts capable of recurring in the manner of uniform natural phenomena—something that does not seem entirely excluded.

Hobbes specifies what can be the object of scientific study through a classification of the sciences. There is first a quantitative philosophy of nature (metaphysics, mathematics, cosmography, and mechanics), then a qualitative one (sciography, astrology, what we would today call “physics”, optics, music, ethics, what we would call “linguistics”), and finally civil philosophy concerning rights and duties.

Hobbes bases science on the generation of the properties of things through reasoning. As we have seen, it possesses a utilitarian dimension. He sees continuity between mathematical reasoning, scientific propositions, and technical applications: “By philosophy is understood ‘the knowledge acquired by reasoning, from the manner of the generation of any thing, to the properties; or from the properties, to some possible way of generation of the same; to the end to be able to produce, as far as matter, and humane force permit, such effects, as humane life requireth’” (“Chap. 46, Of darkness from vain philosophy, and fabulous traditions”).

The starting point of science, as we have also seen, is the mastered use of speech, without which there would be no reasoning. For a correct and rigorous use of reason to be possible, appropriate social conditions are required, Hobbes tells us. Philosophy develops thanks to the leisure time available, which only the State can guarantee. “Leasure is the mother of philosophy; and commonwealth, the mother of peace, and leasure.”

Vain philosophy is that which does not follow the geometrical method and which uses empty words. True philosophy, by contrast, defines its concepts, explains them, and establishes their meaning. Hobbes rejects jargon whose sense is confused, with terms inherited from scholasticism such as “essence,” “substantial form,” or “incorporeal.” For example, the word “being,” which indicates the consequence of a term, is improperly taken as the name of a thing. Likewise, the word “soul” is treated as if it designated something located in a particular place. Other words are incomprehensible, and this unintelligibility conceals the truth or discourages its pursuit. Instead of false and incompetent philosophy, true philosophy must rely on knowledge of physical causes.

II. Knowledge and Action

We have just seen what, for Hobbes, are the principles of knowledge and the origin of errors and absurdities. Let us now turn to the theme of action—that is, to voluntary motions whose origin lies in sensation, imagination, and memory (“Ch. 6, Of the interior beginnings of voluntary motions; commonly called the passions; and the speeches by which they are expressed”). The beginning of an action, which is not yet visible, is effort. “These small beginnings of motion, within the body of man, before they appear in walking, speaking, striking, and other visible actions, are commonly called endeavour. This endeavour, when it is towards something which causes it, is called appetite, or desire… and when the endeavour is fromward something, it is generally called aversion.” The effort directed toward what is desired is caused by something pleasant, whereas the effort in the opposite direction is caused by what is painful and feared.

Hobbes distinguishes two levels of affects: the pleasure and pain of the senses, and the joy and sadness of the mind. He provides a long list of variations of these simple passions and indicates their visible signs: “The best signs of passions present, are either in the countenance, motions of the body, actions, and ends, aims, which we otherwise know the man to have.” He then shows that deliberation designates the hesitation arising from several contradictory passions: “When in the mind of man, appetites, and aversions, hopes, and fears, concerning one and the same thing, arise alternately… the whole sum of desires, aversions, hopes and fears continued till the thing be either done, or thought impossible, is that we call deliberation.” The last appetite or the last aversion that prevails just before action is the will. “Will therefore is the last appetite in deliberating.”

Hobbes compares the will to judgment (or resolution, the final decision in discourse), which is the last opinion in inquiry and reflection. “As the whole chain of appetites alternate, in the question if good, or bad, is called deliberation; so the whole chain of opinions alternate, in the question of true, or false, is called doubt” (“Ch. 7, Of the ends, or resolutions of discourse”). If the opinions in question come from someone’s testimony, one must note in this case that what is credible or doubtful concerns both the person and what he says: “In belief are two opinions; one of the saying of the man; the other his virtue.”

Hobbes then turns to intellectual virtues. Intelligence depends on the liveliness of imagination and on the constant orientation of thought toward a goal. Discernment is the capacity to perceive differences and resemblances (“Ch. 8, Of the virtues commonly called intellectual; and their contrary defects”). As for intellectual vices, they are not necessarily the consequence of passions. On the contrary, intelligence presupposes passion insofar as it is a desire for power. “To have no desire is to be dead: so to have weak passions, is dullness; and to have passions indifferently for everything, giddiness, and distraction; and to have stronger and more vehement passions for anything, than is ordinarily seen in others, is that which men call madness.” It is therefore not passion in general that is harmful to intelligence, but certain passions, when they are inconsistent or too strong.

Hobbes also addresses the question of religious faith. According to him, it arises from fear of the future and of the invisible, and from the search for origins. “When there is nothing to be seen, there is nothing to accuse, either of their good, or evil fortune, but some power, or agent invisible” (“Ch. 12, Of religion”). Divination, in pagan religion, bears witness to this tendency to ward off fear of the future. It is merely the supernatural modality of a natural attitude consisting in wanting to predict the future based on past experience. For Hobbes, institutional religion is above all a factor of peace, altruism, and obedience, rather than discord. As for the ritual dimension of religion, insofar as it makes possible to neglect one’s duties, it values personal responsibility, which discourages blaming others or rebelling.

III. The Complicated Collective

To return more specifically to action, Hobbes is interested in our power, our dispositions, our means of acting in the future within the social field—that is, in our social capital. This includes our intellectual faculties, our financial means, our relationships, our luck, our reputation, our physical appearance, our merit, our titles, our status, our abilities, etc. (“Ch. 10, Of power, worth, dignity, honour, and worthiness”). Individual powers can then aggregate to form a collective power, particularly in the unity of the state: “The greatest of human powers, is that which is compounded of the powers of most men, united by consent, in one person, natural, or civil, that has the use of all their powers depending on his will; such as is the power of a commonwealth.” But Hobbes also identifies a capacity for aggregation at the pre‑state level through manners: “By manners, I mean… those qualities of mankind, that concern their living together in peace, and unity” (“Ch. 11, Of the difference of manners”).

However, the union of human beings is endangered by competition among them for various goods such as wealth, honor, command, and so on. (Let us dispel an ambiguity here. If A desires x and B desires x, A and B desire the same object x. But they do not have the same desire. For A desires x for himself, and B desires x for himself.) The fear of death and of injury (that is, the desire not to die or be wounded) and the pursuit of comfort nevertheless lead human beings to submit to a common power, as we shall see when discussing the State. Moreover, the search for praise and the fear of blame lead individuals to display virtue. Still, human beings have various inclinations that are negative and antisocial passions, such as vanity, ambition, irresolution, ignorance, credulity, and so forth. And one can hardly rely on custom to correct them: “Ignorance of the causes, and original constitution of right, equity, law, and justice, disposeth a man to make custom and example the rule of his action.”

What constitutes the state of nature for Hobbes is the fact that each person, whatever his capacities, represents an equal threat to others. Whatever our strength, we are all equally capable of harming or even killing our neighbor: “The weakest has strength enough to kill the strongest, either by secret machination, or by confederacy with others, that are in the same danger with himself” (“Ch. XIII, Of the natural condition of mankind as concerning their felicity, and misery”).

Discord and rivalry arise, as we have said, from the fact that we desire the same things and do not have the same desires; complementarity among individuals and their cooperation therefore does not come naturally. A superior power will be necessary to contain conflict. War, even if intermittent, remains a perpetual threat (Hobbes compares it to bad weather, and we may also think of illness, which sometimes makes us suffer and at other times seems to disappear). What indicates this mutual distrust is the observation of everyday practices, such as the use of locks or the carrying of weapons when traveling: “What opinion he has of his fellow-subjects, when he rides armed; of his fellow citizens, when he locks his doors; and of his children, and servants, when he locks his chest.

 

IV. Contract and State

The fear of death and the pursuit of comfort therefore lead human beings to seek peace, and we shall see that the means to achieve it is the social contract and its implementation by the sovereign. Hobbes then proposes two distinct notions: natural right, which is the freedom to defend one’s life by any means, and natural law, which is the obligation to maintain peace. These two principles bear an asymmetrical relation. Peace allows each person to preserve his life. But it is impossible if each, in order to defend his life, must attack others. The best means in this case is the mutual renunciation of natural right in order to guarantee respect for natural law: “that a man be willing, when others are so too, as far-forth, as for peace, and defence of himself he shall think it necessary, to lay down this right to all things; and be contented with so much liberty against other men, as he would allow other men against himself” (“Ch. 14, Of the first and second natural laws, and of contracts”).

This mutual renunciation of natural right is called a “contract.” It consists only of signs and has no force of its own. What can be effective is solely the fear of the consequences of breaking the contract, or the vanity of showing that one can keep one’s commitment. To ensure that two contracting parties honor their commitments, what is needed above all is a power above them capable of enforcing performance: “If there be a common power set over them both, with right and force sufficient to compel performance, it is not void.” For the social contract to be honored, the State must ensure its enforcement, which guarantees the application of justice: “Before the names of just, and unjust can have place, there must be some coercive power, to compel men equally to the performance of their covenants, by the terror of some punishment, greater than the benefit they expect by the breach of their covenant” (“Ch. 15, Of other laws of nature”).

The simplest expression of the law of nature that the State is charged with enforcing is the golden rule: do not do to another what you would not want done to yourself. This natural law is what the social contract expresses as a rational agreement under ideal conditions. The contract represents a stable equilibrium resulting from mutual commitment in a cooperative game. The players have more to gain by alienating their power than by exercising it against one another, just as in the prisoner’s dilemma it is preferable that neither prisoner confess rather than both confess or only one of them.

Let us clarify this comparison between the social contract and the prisoner’s dilemma. According to the latter, two prisoners have an interest in not confessing to having participated in a robbery if they are presented with the following rule: either no one confesses and no one is punished; or both confess and each receives a five‑year prison sentence; or only one confesses and is not punished, while the one who does not confess receives a ten‑year sentence. In the case of the social contract, two contracting parties have an interest in renouncing the use of violence if the rule is as follows: either no one uses violence and each lives in peace; or both use violence and only the stronger survives; or only one uses violence and the one who refuses it perishes.

To define the nature of the State, Hobbes turns to a reflection on the notion of representation, using the theatrical model of the author being represented by the actor (“Ch. 16, Of persons, authors and things personated”). The author delegates his power to the actor (we will not complicate this image here by reflecting on the place of the fictional character embodied by the actor in this relation, though one could say that the fictional character represents certain thoughts of the author, and that the actor represents the character according to his own interpretation).

Hobbes then makes a second comparison between the author and the owner: “That which in speaking of goods and possessions, is called an owner… speaking of actions, is called author.” One may suppose that what would be analogous in this case to the actor would be the user—for example, the captain of a merchant ship who serves a shipowner. But the actor can also represent a multitude, which is the case of the sovereign if he represents the people. “A multitude of men, are made one person, when they are by one man, or one person, represented; so that it be done with the consent of every one of that multitude in particular.” Thus sovereignty is assimilated to a process of representation, of personification of the people. The function of the State will be to realize by this means the citizens’ desire for security and to bring them out of the state of war (“Ch. 17, Of the causes, generation, and definition of a commonwealth”).

The process through which state representation is formed is a commitment, an implicit promise of common alienation to authority: “As if every man should say to every man, ‘I authorize and give up my right of governing myself, to this man, or this assembly of men, on this condition, that thou give up thy right to him, and authorize all his actions in like manner.’” Thus the State, under these conditions, is not an obstacle to freedom, for human beings submit to it voluntarily. What opposes freedom is an external constraint, for example when an obstacle prevents us from moving forward (when the obstacle is internal to the agent, we speak instead of “impotence,” as when one loses one’s voice) (“Ch. 21, Of the liberty of subjects”).

If freedom requires the absence of obstacles, it does not nevertheless require the disappearance of all framework and all context. Lightening a boat that is about to sink, or paying one’s debts out of fear of reprisals, does not mean lacking freedom. In other words, freedom is compatible with necessity. For example, a river flows freely even though the riverbed channels its current. Just as one channels a river, human beings, in order to maintain peace and preserve themselves, have fabricated the artificial creature of the State, whose chains are less shackles than safeguards. “As men, for the attaining of peace, and conservation of themselves thereby, have made an artificial man, which we call a commonwealth, so also have they made artificial chains, called civil laws, which they themselves, by mutual covenants, have fastened at one end, to the lips of that man, or assembly, to whom they have given the sovereign power; and at the other end to their own ears.” As long as the sovereign protects his subjects, they owe him obedience: “the obligation of subjects to sovereign, is understood to last as long, and no longer, than the power lasteth, by which he is able to protect them.” In other words, the State loses its legitimacy if it ceases to protect its subjects.

 

V. The megamachine

Hobbes used the image of the actor to illustrate how the sovereign represents the people. Now it is the image of a mechanical animal that serves to depict the State. “Having spoken of the generation, form, and power of a commonwealth, I am in order to speak next of the parts thereof. And first of systems, which resemble the similar parts, or muscles of a body natural” (“Ch. 22, Of systems subject, political, and private”). Its organs are the administrations with their ministers. Its food is land and raw materials. Its digestion is the technical transformation of nature. Its blood is money. Its children are its colonies. Its head is composed of the counselors and the laws that direct action (“Ch. 25, On counsel”). Good counsel rests on experience, expertise, and argumentative clarity. A good decision rests on the quality of the counsel.

The fundamental law is the natural law commanding one not to do to another what one would not want to suffer oneself (“Ch. 26, Of civil laws”). Beyond this law, the State upholds distributive and penal laws. “Of human positive laws, some are distributive, some penal. Distributive are those that determine the rights of the subjects, declaring to every man what it is, by which he acquireth and holdeth a propriety in lands, or goods, and a right or liberty of action: and these speak to all the subjects. Penal are those which declare which penalty shall be inflicted on those that violate the law.” These positive laws must be interpreted by qualified judges. “For it is not the letter, but the intendment, or meaning, that is to say, the authentic interpretation of the law (which is the sense of the legislator), in which the nature of the law consisteth.”

If right defines the liberties one retains from natural right, civil law is what obliges one to abandon certain aspects of the law of nature. “Nature gave a right to every man to secure himself by his own strength, and to invade a suspected neighbour, by way of prevention: but the civil law takes away that liberty, in all cases where the protection of law may be stayed for.” Penal law establishes the punishments associated with crime in order to prevent the arbitrariness of vengeance. “Neither private revenges, nor injuries of private men, can properly be styled punishment; because they proceed not from public authority” (“Ch. 28, Of punishments and rewards”).

Punishments are defined with regard to future good: “All evil which is inflicted without intention, or possibility of disposing the delinquent, or, by his example, other men, to obey the laws, is not punishment; but an act of hostility.” Salary is a reward as well as a contract. As for a gift, it is a favor granted to someone. “Reward, is either of gift, or by contract. When by contract, it is called salary, and wages; which is benefit due for service performed, or promised. When of gift, it is benefit proceeding from the grace of them that bestow it, to encourage, or enable men to do them service.”

The State is the necessary framework for the application of law. But it is not invincible. The causes of its dissolution are the imperfection of its institutions, the influence of seditious doctrines, the inappropriate imitation of neighboring States, the mixed nature of government (the separation of powers), lack of money, concentration of monopolies, the excessive size of cities, and so on (“Ch. 29, Of those things that weaken, or tend to the dissolution of a commonwealth”).

Nevertheless, the State must maintain itself in order to ensure peace and the security of its subjects. It is the sovereign’s charge to uphold this objective and to meet it through instruction and the application of law (“Ch. 30, Of the office of the sovereign representative”). Finally, if the life of the State rests on culture as the fruit of labor, it also includes worship, which seeks to obtain results through prayer, offerings, and sacrifices (“Ch. 31, Of the kingdom of God by nature”).

 

Conclusion

The first part of this text reconstructs the main lines of Hobbes’s empiricist epistemology in the Leviathan. Sensation is the source of all knowledge. Nevertheless, the use of speech introduces another principle, that of deduction. It seemed to us that the articulation between the empirical and the linguistic is more presupposed than demonstrated by the author (unless a longer and more detailed study could bring out this foundation in his writings). Still, the link does exist, since calculation leads to technical applications. Hobbes insists on the necessity of method to eliminate the absurdities produced by a careless use of language.

Next, Hobbes explains human action through the mechanism of pleasure and pain and of the corresponding desire and fear. He draws a parallel between the chain of passions and that of beliefs, and their respective results: will for action and judgment for knowledge. He then shows the confusion that results from the interaction between individuals and the state of conflict arising from the confrontation of divergent points of view.

This observation ultimately justifies the establishment of arbitration and regulation by a superior authority. The social contract and its application by the sovereign respond to the fear of death and the desire for peace common to human beings. State power, insofar as it represents and realizes the will of the citizens, does not oppose their freedom. Rather, it establishes its framework. Finally, Hobbes describes the State as a giant automaton and details its composition, its functions, and its weaknesses.

What is remarkable in the Leviathan is the attempt to articulate, in a fairly concise manner, knowledge and action, as well as the individual and the collective. Likewise, one sees an attempt to articulate the empirical world and the logical world, even if it seems to us that the connection between the two remains to be defined (a task to which part of contemporary philosophy still devotes itself). The important intuition, present in philosophy from Socrates to the present and particularly explicit in Hobbes’s nominalism, is that reflection on language offers a key to understanding the world (even if this principle is sometimes abandoned in the history of philosophy in favor of speculations on Spirit, Understanding, Reason—entities that can obscure the linguistic stakes). At the empirical level, Hobbes provides a description of psychology that intertwines sensible impulse and voluntary motion. Sensibility acts as the motor of conscious and active behavior. But the detour through language in the human animal allows, notably through calculation, access to a certain objectivity and thus a detachment from one’s individual point of view.

However, human capacities within society hinder one another. The more an individual gains power within the social fabric, the more he enters into competition with other individuals. In other words, human interactions do not directly allow for harmonious cooperation. The elaboration of the political artifact does not constitute a radical rupture with nature, but rather a form of resolution, enabling the passage from nature to morality and then to politics. The agonistic state of nature described by Hobbes corresponds to a pessimistic (others will say “realistic”) conception of society without a State, against which the State constitutes a remedy. It is moreover this natural origin of the political artifice that explains its interested character. The State responds to a consequentialist and functionalist logic: guaranteeing peace. To do so, one must think of society not as a natural community but as the invention of an artificial creature correcting the deficiencies of nature. This correction is carried out through the implementation, via the mechanism of the State, of the legal order. The state machine extends into reality the verbal structure of the law.

 

R. EDELMAN NANTES JUILLET 2026

Crédit photo : Henry Doyle (1868), Massacre of Drogheda (1649), Herodote.net

 

 

 

HOBBES OU LES BORNES DE LA SAGESSE

 

 

« Ainsi que Hobbes l’affirme, l’état de nature est un état d’injustice et de violence, et l’on doit nécessairement le quitter pour se soumettre à une contrainte légale, qui ne limite notre liberté que pour la rendre compatible avec la liberté d’autrui et, par là même, avec le bien public. A cette liberté se rattache donc aussi celle de soumettre au jugement du public ses pensées et ses doutes quand on ne peut pas les éclaircir soi-même, sans que, pour cela, on soit réputé un citoyen turbulent et dangereux » (I. Kant, Critique de la raison pure, II. 1).

Introduction

Hobbes, on l’a souvent répété, fournit une vision pessimiste de l’homme et de la société et offre une réponse autoritaire et sécuritaire. Il faudrait considérer les hommes comme solidaires pour défendre au contraire une société « démocratique ». Cependant, si les hommes sont effectivement capables d’entraide, ils sont en même temps intégrés dans des structures sociales qui les mettent en concurrence les uns les autres ; et si une société « démocratique » est possible, elle ne peut pour autant se passer de régulation et de garde-fous. Autrement dit, Hobbes n’est peut-être pas absolument incompatible avec une approche progressiste de la politique.

Le Léviathan a pour objet la défense de l’Etat. Mais il me semble que son analyse vaut pour d’autres institutions. L’idée principale est que la coordination naturelle entre les hommes ne peut suffire et qu’il est nécessaire de construire une structure artificielle pour garantir la justice. En fin de compte, Hobbes apporte une contribution à l’ontologie sociale et au problème de la force de liaison entre les individus. Sa solution repose sur la crainte de la violence et le calcul intéressé de chacun.

Ce qui par ailleurs est remarquable dans le Leviathan, c’est sa dimension systématique. Comme dans la République de Platon ou la Phénoménologie de l’Esprit de Hegel, Hobbes tente de fournir la synthèse des différentes branches de la philosophie, en particulier la philosophie de la connaissance et la philosophie politique. La philosophie contemporaine s’est généralement détournée de ce genre de projet globalisant, pour se concentrer sur des points particuliers en épistémologie, en éthique ou en esthétique. Il est effectivement légitime, par souci de précision, de se concentrer sur des questions spécifiques. Mais cela ne suppose pas d’après moi de s’interdire de dézoomer pour étudier l’articulation de grands domaines. On peut être tout aussi rigoureux en cartographie, à l’échelle du planisphère, qu’au niveau communal, tout comme l’on peut analyser l’anatomie d’un animal aussi bien que la structure d’une cellule.

Ce qui peut paraître par contre particulièrement actuel chez Hobbes, c’est sa critique du jargon et du mauvais usage du langage, qui évoque les positions d’un Carnap ou d’un Ryle. L’approche nominaliste de Hobbes l’amène à traiter sous forme linguistique les processus cognitifs, en évitant l’inflation de termes psychologiques que l’on observe dans une partie de la philosophie moderne.

La synthèse du Léviathan que nous proposons maintenant doit permettre de recontextualiser cet ouvrage en fonction de nos centres d’intérêts, tels que nous venons de les exposer en introduction. Les questions qui se poseront à nous en suivant le plan du livre seront : Comment s’articulent le physicalisme, l’empirisme et le nominalisme dans le Léviathan ? Pourquoi la nature humaine, telle que la conçoit Hobbes, nous conduit-elle à nous opposer les uns aux autres ? En quoi consiste la solution politique proposée par Hobbes ?

I. La vraie philosophie

La connaissance commence par la sensation, laquelle est causée par l’objet. Les sensations sont les effets produits par l’objet sur nos sens (« Part. I, Ch. 1, Of sense »). Ensuite, cette sensation, comme effet sur nous de l’objet, se maintient, même lorsque cette cause a cessé d’agir et que l’objet est absent (« Ch. 2, Of imagination »). Il nous reste alors une image qui représente l’objet et ses propriétés en son absence. Cette image est emmagasinée et devient mémoire. “Imagination and memory are but one thing, which for divers considerations hath divers name”. Il y a continuité entre imagination et mémoire. Ces facultés sont moins des modules indépendants que des façons différentes de considérer le traitement des données sensibles. La distinction ainsi posée entre objet physique, sensation et image mnésique, soulève alors les problèmes sceptiques suivants : Dans quelle mesure la sensation nous fournit-elle une connaissance valable des objets ? Dans quelle mesure l’image mnésique est-elle capable de conserver fidèlement l’information sensible ?

Mais Hobbes ne paraît pas approfondir ces questions. Il traite plutôt des relations entre les représentations dans ce qu’il appelle le discours mental (« Ch. 3, Of the conséquence or train of imaginations »). L’organisation de ce discours mental, selon les relations de causes et d’effets, est réglée par nos désirs et nos craintes. “From desire, ariseth the thought of some means we have seen produce the like of that wich we aim at”. L’expérience que nous avons des choses, ainsi fixées dans le discours mental, nous amène à améliorer notre conduit : “by how much one man has more experience of things past, than another, by so much also he is more prudent, and his expectations the seldomer fail him”. Avec l’expérience, nous savons par avance ce qui sera source de plaisir ou de peine.

Le mécanisme des facultés cognitives décrit jusqu’à présent est commun aux hommes et autres animaux. La distinction apparaît seulement avec le discours verbal comme auxiliaire du discours mental. Le langage a pour fonction de fixer les représentations, de les transmettre aux autres, en y ajoutant l’expression de notre volonté. On trouve également des usages esthétiques et ludiques destinés à susciter le plaisir. Cependant, des abus sont également possibles, quand on utilise des formules incorrectes, ou lorsqu’on ment ou encore si l’on cherche à blesser par la parole (« Ch. 4, Of speech »).

Outre les fonctions du langage, Hobbes détaille les types de mots qu’il utilise : noms propres, communs, de choses matérielles, de leur qualité, de l’impression qu’elles produisent sur nous et noms de noms ou de discours (e. g. « general », « universal », « special », « equivocal », « affirmation », « interrogation », « commandement », « narration », « syllogism », « sermon », « oration »). Avec cette typologie, on doit pouvoir détecter les erreurs de catégorie et les faux problèmes qui naissent du mauvais usage des noms : “therefore of absurd and false affirmations, in case they be universal, there can be no understanding ; thought many think they understand then, when they do but repeat the words softly, or con them in their mind”.

Une fonction linguistique particulièrement importante est ensuite présentée : le calcul, qui s’effectue à partir de concepts clairs. Hobbes prend ici comme modèle de la connaissance scientifique le modèle hypothético-déductif de l’inférence à partir d’une définition axiomatique (« Ch. 5, Of Reason and science”). La vérité dépend de l’exactitude de l’ordre des mots entre eux. L’inférence logique semble équivalente au déterminisme causal (on pourrait le traduire par une dépendance contrefactuelle, comme dans « sans feu, pas de fumée »). La question du rapport du langage aux états de fait ne paraît pas soulevée. « A man… can by words reduce the consequences he finds to general rules, called theorems, or aphorism ; that is, he can reason, or reckon, not only in number, but in all other things, whereof one may added unto, or subtracted from another”. La rigueur logico-mathématique constitue la méthode permettant d’éviter confusions et absurdités. Celle-ci est désintéressée, en tant qu’elle suit l’ordre objectif des choses et non celui des préférences subjectives.

Ainsi conçue, la science relève d’un art, d’un savoir faire par lequel on maîtrise la syntaxe à partir des définitions. “The first cause of absurd conclusions I ascribe to the want of method ; in that they begin not their ratiocination from definitions ; that is, from settled significations of their words ; as if they could cast account, without knowing the value of the numeral words, one, two and three”. L’élimination des absurdités porte sur l’usage réglé du langage. Quant à la question de l’erreur, que Hobbes distingue de l’absurdité, elle concerne l’expérience et se combat par la prudence. Les animaux non humains comme humains commettent des erreurs lorsqu’ils agissent imprudemment ou manquent d’expérience. Mais l’homme uniquement formule des absurdités s’il ne maîtrise pas l’art de raisonner. On peut toutefois se demander si la séparation est si nette entre les deux. Raisonner ne réclame-t-il pas expérience et prudence ? Et l’action prudente ne bénéficie-t-elle pas de l’art de raisonner ?

La distinction entre erreurs empiriques et absurdités logiques conduit Hobbes à séparer l’histoire, comme connaissance des événements, basée sur la sensation et la mémoire, et la science (ou philosophie), fondée sur la démonstration logique. Or grâce à la science, quand nous connaissons la dépendance d’un fait par rapport à un autre, nous sommes en mesure de maîtriser techniquement les phénomènes : « when we see how any thing comes about, upon what causes, and by what manner ; when the like causes come into our power, we see how to make it produce the like effect ».

Dans ce cas, lorsque nous disons que la connaissance de l’histoire nous permet d’éviter de répéter les erreurs du passé, sommes-nous en train de nous tromper de domaine ? Si l’histoire n’est pas une science, comment pourrait-elle guider notre pratique ? Il faudrait pour cela que des événements passés soient en même temps des faits susceptibles de se répéter, à la manière de phénomènes naturels uniformes, ce qui ne nous paraît pas totalement exclu.

Hobbes précise ce qui peut faire l’objet d’une étude scientifique, grâce à une classification des sciences. Il y a d’abord une philosophie de la nature quantitative (métaphysique, mathématiques, cosmographie et mécanique) puis qualitative (sciographie, astrologie, ce qu’on appellerait aujourd’hui « physique », optique, musique, éthique, ce qu’on appellerait « linguistique »), et enfin la philosophie civile des droits et devoirs.

Hobbes fait reposer la science sur la génération des propriétés des choses à partir d’un raisonnement. Comme nous l’avons vu, elle possède une dimension utilitaire. Il voit une continuité entre le raisonnement mathématique, les propositions scientifiques et les applications techniques : “By philosophy is understood "the knowledge acquired by reasoning, from the manner of the generation of any thing, to the properties; or from the properties, to some possible way of generation of the same; to the end to be able to produce, as far as matter, and humane force permit, such effects, as humane life requireth"  » (“Chap. 46,   Of darkness from vain philosophy, and fabulous traditions”).

Le point de départ de la science, nous l’avons également vu, est l’usage maitrisé de la parole sans laquelle il n’y aurait pas de raisonnement. Pour qu’un usage juste et rigoureux de la raison soit possible, il faut des conditions sociales appropriées, nous dit Hobbes. La philosophie se développe grâce au temps de loisir disponible, ce que l’Etat seul peut garantir. « Leasure is the mother of philosophy; and commonwealth, the mother of peace, and leasure”.

La vaine philosophie est celle qui ne suit pas la méthode géométrique et qui utilise des mots vides. Au contraire, la philosophie véritable définit ses concepts, les explique et établit leur signification. Hobbes rejette le jargon dont le sens est confus, avec des termes hérités de la scolastique comme « essence », « forme substantielle » ou « incorporel ». Par exemple, le mot « être », qui indique la conséquence d’un terme, est abusément pris pour un nom de chose. De même le mot « âme » est considéré comme s’il désignait quelque chose en un lieu donné. D’autres mots sont incompréhensibles et cette inintelligibilité dissimule la vérité ou décourage de la poursuivre. Au lieu d’une philosophie fausse et incompétente, la philosophie vraie doit s’appuyer sur la connaissance des causes physiques.

II. La connaissance et l’action 

Nous venons de voir quel sont pour Hobbes les principes de la connaissance et l’origine des erreurs et des absurdités. Abordons à présent le thème de l’action, c’est-à-dire celui des mouvements volontaires qui trouvent leur origine dans la sensation, l’imagination et la mémoire (« Ch. 6, Of the interior beginnings of volontary motions; commonly called the passion; and the speeches by wich they are expressed »). Le commencement de l’action qui n’est pas encore visible est l’effort. « These small beginnings of motion, within the body of man, before they appear in walking, speaking, striking, and other visible actions, are commonly called endeavour. This endeavour, when it is towards something which cause it, is called appetite, or desire… and when the endeavour is fromward something, it is generally called aversion”. L’effort en direction de ce qui est désiré est causé par une chose agréable, alors que celui en sens contraire est causé par ce qui est pénible et redouté.

Hobbes distingue deux niveaux d’affects : le plaisir et la douleur des sens et la joie et la tristesse de l’esprit. Il fournit une longue liste de déclinaisons de ces passions simples et indique quels en sont les signes visibles : « The best signs of passions present, are either in the countenance, motions of the body, actions, and ends, aims, which we otherwise know the man to have ». Il montre ensuite que la délibération désigne l’embarras face à plusieurs passions contradictoires : “When in the mind of man, appetites, and aversions, hopes, and fears, concerning one and the same thing, arise alternately… the whole sum of desires, aversions, hope and fears continued till the thing be either done, or thought impossible, is that we call deliberation”. Le dernier appétit ou la dernière aversion qui prévaut juste avant l’action est la volonté. « Will therefore is the last appetite in deliberating ».

Hobbes compare la volonté au jugement (ou résolution, décision finale, dans le discours), qui est la dernière opinion dans la recherche et la réflexion. « As the whole chain of appetites alternate, in the question if good, or bad, is called deliberation; so the whole chain of opinions alternate, in the question of true, or false, is called doubt” (“Ch. 7, Of the ends, or resolutions of discourse”). Si les opinions en question proviennent du témoignage de quelqu’un, il faut remarquer dans ce cas que ce qui est crédible ou douteux, c’est autant la personne que ce qu’elle dit : « In belief are two opinions ; one of the saying of the man ; the other his virtue ».

Hobbes s’intéresse ensuite aux vertus intellectuelles. L’intelligence dépend de la vivacité de l’imagination et de l’orientation constante de la pensée en direction d’un but. Le discernement est la capacité de percevoir les différences et les ressemblances (« Ch. 8, Of the virtues commonly called intellectual; and their contrary  defects »). En ce qui concerne les vices intellectuels, ils ne sont pas nécessairement la conséquence des passions. Au contraire, l’intelligence suppose la passion en tant que désir de puissance. « To have no desire is to be dead : so to have weak passions, is dullness; and to have passions indifferently for everything, giddiness, and distraction; and to have stronger and more vehement passions for anything, than is ordinarily seen in others, is that which men call madness”. Ce n’est donc pas la passion en général qui est nuisible à l’intelligence mais certaines d’entre elles, si elles sont inconséquentes ou trop fortes.

Hobbes aborde également la question de la foi religieuse. Elle nait selon lui de la crainte de l’avenir et de l’invisible, et de la recherche de l’origine. « When there is nothing to be seen, there is nothing to accuse, either of their good, or evil fortune, but some power, or agent invisible” (“Ch. 12, Of religion”). La divination, dans la religion païenne, témoigne de cette tendance à vouloir conjurer la crainte de l’avenir. Ce n’est que la modalité surnaturelle d’une attitude naturelle consistant à vouloir prédire l’avenir à partir de l’expérience passée. Pour Hobbes, la religion instituée est avant tout un facteur de paix, d’altruisme et d’obéissance, et non de discorde. Quant à la dimension rituelle de la religion, en tant qu’elle rend possible la négligence de ses devoirs, elle valorise la responsabilité personnelle, ce qui détourne de blâmer autrui ou de se révolter. 

 

III. Le collectif compliqué

Pour en revenir plus précisément à l’action, Hobbes s’intéresse à notre puissance, à nos dispositions, à nos moyens d’agir à l’avenir, à l’intérieur du champ social, c’est-à-dire à notre capital social. Cela comprend nos facultés intellectuelles, nos moyens financiers, nos relations, notre chance, notre réputation, notre apparence physique, notre mérite, nos titres, notre statut, nos capacités, etc. (“Ch. 10, Of power, worth, dignity, honour, and worthiness”). Les puissances individuelles peuvent ensuite s’agréger pour former une puissance collective, en particulier dans l’unité étatique : “The greatest of human powers, is that which is compounded if the powers of most men, united by consent, in one person, natural, or civil, that has the use of all their powers depending on his will; such as is the power of a commonwealth”. Mais Hobbes identifie également une capacité d’agrégation au niveau pré-étatique à travers les mœurs :  “By manners, I mean… those qualities of mankind, that concern their living together in peace, and unity” (“Ch. 11, Of the difference of manners”).

Toutefois, l’union des hommes est mise en péril par la compétition entre eux, pour divers biens comme la richesse, l’honneur, le commandement, etc. (Dissipons au passage une ambigüité. Si A désire x et B désire x, A et B désirent le même objet x. Mais ils n’ont pas le même désir. Car A désire x pour lui-même et B désire x pour lui-même). La peur de la mort et des blessures (c’est-à-dire le désir de ne pas mourir ni être blessé) et la recherche du confort conduit néanmoins les hommes à se soumettre à une puissance commune, comme nous le verrons en traitant de l’Etat. De plus, la recherche des éloges et la crainte du blâme conduit à faire preuve de vertu. Il reste que les hommes ont divers penchants, qui sont des passions négatives et antisociales, comme la vanité, l’ambition, l’irrésolution, l’ignorance, la crédulité, etc. Et l’on ne peut guère compter sur la coutume pour les corriger : « Ignorance of the causes, and original constitution of right, equity, law, and justice, disposeth a man to make custom and example the rule of his action”.

Ce qui représente l’état de nature pour Hobbes, c’est le fait que chaque homme, quelques soient ses capacités, représente une égale menace pour autrui. Quelle que soit notre force, nous sommes tous également capables de nuire à ou même de tuer notre prochain : « The weakest has strength enough to kill the strongest, either by secret machination, or by confederacy with others, that are in the same danger with himself” (“Ch. XIII, Of the natural condition of mankind as concerning their felicity, and misery”).

La discorde et les rivalités naissant, comme nous l’avons dit, de ce que nous désirons les mêmes choses et n’avons pas les mêmes désirs, la complémentarité entre les individus et leur coopération ne va donc pas de soi. Une puissance supérieure sera nécessaire pour contenir la conflictualité. La guerre, même si elle est intermittente, reste une menace perpétuelle (Hobbes compare cela au mauvais temps, et nous pouvons aussi songer à la maladie qui parfois nous fait souffrir et d’autres fois paraît disparaître). Ce qui indique cette méfiance de uns envers les autres, c’est l’observation des usages, avec l’utilisation de serrures ou le port d’armes lorsqu’on voyage : « What opinion he has of his fellow-subjets, when he rides armed; of his fellow citizens, when he locks his doors; and of his children, and servants, when he locks his chest”.

 

IV. Le Contrat et l’Etat

La peur de la mort et la recherche du confort poussent donc les humains à rechercher la paix, et nous allons voir que le moyen en sera le contrat social et sa mise en œuvre par le souverain. Hobbes propose alors deux notions distinctes : le droit naturel, qui est la liberté de défendre sa vie par tous les moyens, et la loi naturelle, qui est l’obligation de maintenir la paix. Ces deux principes entretiennent un rapport asymétrique. La paix permet à chacun de se maintenir en vie. Mais elle est impossible, si chacun, pour défendre sa vie, doit s’en prendre aux autres. Le meilleur moyen dans ce cas sera l’abandon mutuel du droit naturel pour garantir le respect de la loi naturelle : « that a man be willing, when others are so too, as far-forth, as for peace, and defence of himself he shall think it necessary, to lay down this right to all things; and be contended with so much liberty against other men, as he would allow other men against himself” (“Ch. 14, Of the first and second natural laws, and of contracts”).

Cet abandon mutuel du droit naturel est nommé “contrat”. Il n’est fait que de signes et n’a aucune force propre. Seul peut être effective la peur des conséquences de la rupture du contrat ou la vanité de montrer que l’on sait tenir son engagement. Pour s’assurer que deux contractants honorent leurs engagements, il faut surtout une puissance au-dessus d’eux capable de les leur faire respecter : « If there be a common power set over the both, with right and force sufficient to compel performance, it is not void”. Pour que le contrat social soit honoré, il faut que l’Etat se charge de le faire respecter, ce qui garantit l’application de la justice  : “Before  the names of just, and unjust can have place, there must be some coercive power, to compel men equally to the performance of their covenants, by the terror of some punishment, greater than the benefit they expect by the breach of their covenant” (“Ch. 15, Of other laws of nature”).

La plus simple expression de la loi de nature que l’Etat est chargé de faire appliquer est la règle d’or : ne fait pas à un autre ce que tu ne voudrais pas qu’on te fît à toi-même. C’est cette loi naturelle que le contrat social exprime en tant qu’accord rationnel sous condition idéale. Le contrat représente un équilibre stable issu d’un engagement mutuel dans un jeu coopératif. Les joueurs ont plus à gagner en aliénant leur puissance qu’en l’exerçant les uns contre les autres, tout comme dans le dilemme du prisonnier il est préférable qu’aucun prisonnier n’avoue plutôt que les deux n’avouent ou l’un des deux seulement.

Précisons cette comparaison du contrat social avec le dilemme du prisonnier ! Selon celui-ci, deux prisonniers ont intérêt à ne pas avouer avoir participé à un hold-up si on leur soumet la règle suivante : soit personne n’avoue et personne n’est puni, soit les deux avouent et chacun subit une peine de cinq ans d’emprisonnement, soit un seul avoue et n’est pas puni alors que celui qui n’avoue pas subit une peine de dix ans. Dans le cas du contrat social, deux contractants ont intérêt à abandonner l’usage de la violence si la règle est la suivante : soit personne n’use de violence et chacun vit en paix, soit les deux usent de violence et seul le plus fort survit, soit un seul use de violence et celui qui s’y refuse périt.

 

Pour définir la nature de l’Etat, Hobbes recours à une réflexion sur la notion de représentation en utilisant le modèle théâtral de la représentation de l’auteur par l’acteur (« Ch. 16, Of persons, authors and things personated »). L’auteur délègue son pouvoir à l’acteur (on ne compliquera pas ici cette image en réfléchissant à la place du personnage incarné par l’acteur dans cette relation, mais on pourrait affirmer que le personnage de fiction représente certaines pensées de l’auteur et que l’acteur représente le personnage selon sa propre interprétation).  

Hobbes effectue une seconde comparaison entre l’auteur et le propriétaire :  « That which in speaking of good and possessions, is called an owner… speaking of actions, is called author”. On peut supposer que ce qui serait analogue dans ce cas à l’acteur serait l’utilisateur, par exemple un capitaine de navire commercial qui serait au service d’un armateur. Mais l’acteur peut aussi représenter une multitude, ce qui est le cas du souverain s’il représente le peuple. “A multitude of men, are made one person, when they are by one man, or one person, represented; so that it be done with the consent of every one of that multitude in particular”. Ainsi la souveraineté est-elle assimilée à un processus de représentation, de personnification du peuple. La fonction de l’Etat sera de réaliser par ce moyen le désir de sécurité des citoyens et de sortir de l’état de guerre (« Ch. 17, Of the causes, generation, and definition of a commonwealth »).

Le processus par lequel se forme la representation étatique est un engagement, une promesse implicite d’aliénation commune à l’autorité :  « As if every man should say to every man, “I authorize and give up my right of governing myself, to this man, or this assembly of men, on this condition, that thou give up thy right to him, and authorize all his actions in like manner” ». Ainsi l’Etat, dans ces conditions, n’est pas un obstacle à la liberté, car les hommes s’y soumettent volontairement. Ce qui s’oppose à la liberté, c’est une contrainte extérieure, si par exemple un obstacle nous empêche d’avancer (quand l’obstacle est interne au mobile, on parle plutôt d’ « impuissance », si par exemple on a une extinction de voix) (« Ch. 21, Of the liberty of subjects »).

Si la liberté suppose l’absence d’obstacle, elle ne réclame pas néanmoins la disparition de tout cadre et de tout contexte. Délester un bateau qui menace de couler ou payer ses dettes par peur des représailles ne signifie pas manquer de liberté pour autant. Autrement dit, la liberté est compatible avec la nécessité. Par exemple, la rivière s’écoule librement, même si le lit du cours d’eau canalise son flux. Tout comme on canalise un cours d’eau, les hommes, pour maintenir la paix et leur conservation, ont fabriqué la créature artificielle de l’Etat, dont les chaînes sont moins des entraves que des garde-fous. « As men , for the attaining of peace, and conservation of themselves thereby, have made an artificial man, which we call a commonwealth, so also have they made artificial chains, called civil laws, which they themselves, by mutual covenants, have fastened at one end, to the lips of that man, or assembly, to whom they have given the sovereign power; and at the other end to their own ears”. Aussi longtemps que le souverain protège ses sujets, ceux-ci se doivent de lui obéir : “the obligation of subjects to sovereign, is understood to last as long, and no longer, than the power lasteth, by which he is able to protect them”. Autrement dit, l’Etat perd sa légitimité s’il cesse de protéger ses sujets. 

 

V. La mégamachine

            Hobbes a utilisé l’image de l’acteur pour illustrer la manière dont le souverain représente le peuple. A présent, c’est l’image d’un animal mécanique qui sert à figurer l’Etat. “Having spoken of the generation, form, and power of a commonwealth, I am in order to speak next of the parts thereof. And first of systems, which resemble the similar parts, or muscles of a body natural” (“Ch. 22, Of systems subject, political, and private”). Ses organes sont les administrations avec leurs ministres. Ses aliments sont la terre et les matières premières. Sa digestion est la transformation technique de la nature. Son sang est la monnaie. Ses enfants sont ses colonies. Sa tête est constituée des conseillers et des lois qui commandent l’action (« Ch. 25, On counsel »). Un bon conseil repose sur l’expérience, l’expertise et la clarté argumentative. Une bonne décision repose sur la qualité des conseils.

La loi fondamentale est la loi naturelle qui commande de ne pas faire à autrui ce qu’on ne veut pas subir (« Ch. 26, Of civil laws »). Outre cette loi, l’Etat défend des lois distributives et pénales. « Of human positive laws, some are distributive, some penal. Distributive are those that determine the rights of the subjects, declaring to every man what it is, by which he acquireth and holdeth a propriety in lands, or goods, and a right or liberty of action: and these speak to all the subjects. Penal are those which declare which penalty shall be inflected on those that violate the law”. Ces lois positives doivent être interprétées par des juges qualifiés. « For it is not the letter, but the intendment, or meaning, that is to say, the authentic interpretation of the law (which is the sense of the legislator), in which the nature of the law consisteth”.

Si le droit définit les libertés que l’on conserve du droit naturel, la loi civile est ce qui oblige à abandonner certains aspects de la loi de nature. « Nature gave a right to every man to secure himself by his own strength, and to invade a suspected neighbour, by way of prevention: but the civil law takes away that liberty, in all cases where the protection of law may be stayed for”. La loi pénale établit les peines relatives au crime pour prévenir l’arbitraire de la vengeance. « Neither private revenges, nor injuries of private men, can properly be styled punishment; because they proceed not from public authority » (“Ch. 28. Of punishments and rewards »).

Les peines sont définies en considérant le bien futur : “All evil which is inflicted without intention, or possibility of disposing the delinquent, or, by his example, other men, to obey the laws, is not punishment; but an act of hostility”. Le salaire est une récompense en même temps qu’un contrat. Quant au don, c’est une faveur que l’on accorde à quelqu’un. « Reward, is either of gift, or by contract. When by contract, it is called salary, and wages; which is benefit due for service performed, or promised. When of gift, it is benefit proceeding from the grace of them that bestow it, to encourage, or enable men to do them service”.

L’Etat est le cadre nécessaire à l’application de la loi. Mais il n’est pas invincible. Les causes de sa dissolution sont l’imperfection de ses institutions, l’influence des doctrines séditieuses, l’imitation inappropriée des Etats voisins, la mixité du gouvernement (la séparation des pouvoirs), le manque d’argent, la concentration des monopoles, la taille exagérée des villes, etc. (“Ch. 29, Of those things that weaken, or tend to the dissolution of a commonwealth”).

Cependant l’Etat doit se maintenir pour assurer la paix et la sécurité des sujets. C’est la charge du souverain de maintenir cet objectif et d’y répondre, par le moyen de l’instruction et par l’application de la loi (« Ch. 30, Of the office of the sovereign representative »). Enfin, si la vie de l’Etat repose sur la culture en tant que fruit du travail, elle comprend également le culte, qui cherche à obtenir des résultats par la prière, les offrandes et les sacrifices (« Ch. 31, Of the kingdom of God by nature »).

  

Conclusion

La première partie de ce texte restitue les grandes lignes de l’épistémologie empiriste de Hobbes dans le Léviathan. La sensation est la source de toute connaissance. Néanmoins, l’usage de la parole introduit un autre principe, celui de la déduction. Il nous a semblé que l’articulation entre l’empirique et le linguistique était plutôt présupposé que démontrée par l’auteur (à moins qu’une étude plus longue et approfondie puisse permettre de dégager ce fondement dans ses textes). Il reste que le lien existe bien, puisque le calcul aboutit à des applications techniques. Hobbes insiste sur la nécessité de la méthode pour écarter les absurdités produites par un usage désinvolte du langage.

Ensuite, Hobbes explique l’action humaine par le mécanisme du plaisir et de la peine et du désir et de la crainte corrélatifs. Il dresse un parallèle entre l’enchainement des passions et celui des croyances et leur résultat :  la volonté pour l’action et le jugement pour la connaissance. Il montre ensuite la confusion qui résulte de l’interaction entre les individus et l’état de conflit qui résulte de la confrontation des points de vue divergents.

Ce constat justifie finalement l’établissement d’un arbitrage et d’une régulation par une autorité supérieure. Le contrat social et son application par le souverain répond à la crainte de la mort et au désir de paix commun aux hommes. Le pouvoir étatique, en tant qu’il représente et réalise la volonté des citoyens, ne s’oppose pas à leur liberté. Il en établit plutôt le cadre. Enfin, Hobbes décrit l’Etat comme un automate géant et détaille sa composition, ses fonctions et ses failles.

Ce qui est remarquable dans le Leviathan, c’est la tentative d’articuler de manière assez concise la connaissance et l’action, ainsi que l’individuel et le collectif. De même, on y voit une tentative d’articuler le monde empirique et le monde logique, même s’il nous semble que la connexion entre les deux reste à définir (ce à quoi s’emploie encore aujourd’hui une partie de la philosophie). L’intuition importante, qui habite la philosophie depuis Socrate jusqu’à présent, et particulièrement explicite avec le nominalisme de Hobbes, est que la réflexion sur le langage offre une clé de compréhension du monde (même si ce principe est parfois abandonné dans l’histoire de la philosophie au profit de spéculations sur l’Esprit, l’Entendement, la Raison, autant d’entités qui peuvent brouiller la compréhension des enjeux linguistiques). Au niveau empirique, Hobbes donne une description de la psychologie qui entrelace l’impulsion sensible et le mouvement volontaire. La sensibilité agit comme moteur de l’activité consciente et agissante. Mais le détour par le langage chez l’animal humain permet, notamment par le calcul, d’accéder à une certaine objectivité et donc de se détacher de son point de vue individuel.

Toutefois, les capacités humaines au sein de la société se contrarient les unes les autres. Plus un individu gagne en puissance à l’intérieur du tissu social, plus il entre en concurrence avec d’autres individus. Autrement dit, les interactions humaines ne permettent pas directement une collaboration harmonieuse. L’élaboration de l’artefact politique ne constitue pas une rupture radicale avec la nature, mais plutôt une forme de résolution, permettant le passage de la nature, à la morale puis à la politique. L’état de nature agonistique décrit par Hobbes correspond à une conception pessimiste (d’autres diront « réaliste ») de la société sans Etat, contre laquelle l’Etat constitue un remède. C’est d’ailleurs cette origine naturelle de l’artifice étatique qui explique son caractère intéressé. L’Etat répond à une logique conséquentialiste et fonctionnaliste : garantir la paix. Pour cela il faut penser la société non plus comme une communauté naturelle mais comme l’invention d’une créature artificielle corrigeant les insuffisances de la nature. Cette correction s’effectue par la mise en pratique, via le mécanisme étatique, de l’ordre légal. La machine étatique étend dans le réel la structure verbale de la loi.

 

R. EDELMAN NANTES JUILLET 2026

Crédit photo : Henry Doyle (1868), Massacre of Drogheda (1649), Herodote.net

PACIFISM AND ENVIRONMENTALISM

Wars and environmental issues occupy a central place in current events. In the 1970s, protest movements pursued pacifist and environmentalist struggles simultaneously, particularly against nuclear power and the Vietnam War. Even today, we would like to put an end to wars and to the destruction of the environment. Yet we still do not know how. Why do we wage war and destroy the environment? Is there a common thread between these two phenomena? Where, when, and how should we intervene to prevent them, and with what difficulties?

To begin with, what explains the destructive activity of part of humanity? Classical answers include excess, irrationality, passion, greed or thirst for power, selfishness, or indifference to the common good. Raymond Aron, for example, evokes in Peace and War Among Nations (1962) a certain “pride in ruling” that drives the most powerful nations to seek domination over others (1).

One may add, as another explanation, that human beings are caught up in competitive social mechanisms whose long term and large scale effects are toxic. These mechanisms are comparable to phenomena of interspecific competition or predation. This is the case, for example, with environmental risks that “cannot be attributed to individuals according to existing rules of responsibility, because no one foresaw or intended the endangerment of everyone and the destruction of nature” (2). Yet these mechanisms are in principle reversible, since they are institutional rather than natural. It is therefore possible to try to oppose them.

To oppose war and environmental pollution, one may first, at the individual level, seek to encourage virtuous behavior through education and awareness raising. The aim here is to ensure that everyone adopts responsible consumption and a respectful attitude toward others, in the hope of gradually transforming society from the ground up. “According to Arne Naess, we must work to modify the properly metaphysical system of ideas that determines the place human beings are supposed to occupy within nature, so as to modify, indirectly, the way they behave within it” (3).

At the level of collectives, activist associations and non governmental organizations attempt to influence public awareness and institutional decision making. For example, on 30 November 2023, the CGT Ports and Docks union called for a symbolic one hour work stoppage to protest against the wars in Gaza, Ukraine, Africa, Armenia, and elsewhere, recalling the major strikes of 1949 and 1950 against the Indochina War, which sought to prevent the loading or unloading of weapons (4).

Some actions denounce both war and pollution at the same time, such as the struggle against nuclear testing. “Throughout the entire period of the French nuclear testing program in Moruroa (1960–1995), sailors from all nations, sometimes in tiny boats, sometimes alone, risked their lives year after year, sometimes in small flotillas navigating at the very heart of nuclear test zones, to alert the world to the danger of the atomic bomb” (5).

Finally, at the state and corporate levels, a few ethical initiatives are being adopted or at least displayed. For example, Dominique Voynet, Minister of Spatial Planning and the Environment in 1997 under the Jospin government, obtained the abandonment of the Rhine–Rhône canal project, the shutdown of Superphénix, limits on automobile traffic, and the introduction of ecological taxation. But these initiatives are constrained by productivist development strategies, which “associate happiness with infinite growth but lead to pollution, waste, resource depletion, and frantic competition” (6).

Another reason why these initiatives struggle to ward off threats is that risks become even greater as atomic, chemical, genetic, and digital technologies evolve. It even seems that we have reached the highest possible level of risk with the atomic bomb. For Karl Jaspers, it puts human existence as a whole at stake. “Humanity becomes a single entity by virtue of being threatened in its entirety” (7).

Given the globalization of risks and the inadequacy of the means available to contain them, a global institution devoted to maintaining peace and preserving nature proves necessary. According to Kant, in his Essay on Perpetual Peace, it is possible to “turn the mechanism of nature to the advantage of humankind, so as to direct within a people the antagonism of their hostile intentions in such a way that they compel one another to submit to coercive laws, thereby producing the state of peace in which laws have force” (8).

This project of a global institution for maintaining peace was partially realized. “In France, writes C. Tixier, as early as 1867, numerous associations committed to pacifism emerged, such as the International and Permanent League for Peace.” Founded in 1919 (and dissolved in 1946, shortly after the creation of the UN), the League of Nations promoted “understanding, rapprochement, and reconciliation among peoples in the economic, legal, social, humanitarian, and cultural spheres, through more than a hundred international conventions” (9). The doctrine of the League of Nations, later taken up by the United Nations, is “delegitimization of wars of aggression, promotion of peaceful settlement of disputes (arbitration, mediation), and collective solidarity of League members with any state that is attacked, through economic sanctions and even the provision of armed forces by member states” (10). One may also cite, as an example, the position of High Commissioner on National Minorities, created in 1992 by the Organization for Security and Co operation in Europe during the Yugoslav conflict (which followed the fall of the Berlin Wall and the USSR). Its task is to ensure prevention of ethnic conflicts, with a mandate to trigger early warning and rapid action when tensions between national minorities risk escalating into conflict. It continues to play a mediating role today in Ukraine (11).

An international institution such as the United Nations therefore seeks to guarantee peace. “UN operations aim to separate, disarm, and reintegrate combatants into civilian life, to organize free elections, to support the construction of the rule of law, and to structure civil society (support for NGOs)” (12). NATO can provide military means for the UN, which is a legal body, but the link between the two is not automatic. The UN may disagree with certain NATO interventions (Kosovo, 1999). The UN is also subject to criticism, for example because of its powerlessness in Rwanda or in the former Yugoslavia in the 1990s. The UN may therefore be reproached both for its lack of effectiveness, its impartiality, or its interventionism in relation to state sovereignty.

A federal system articulating the grassroots and the top level would allow an international institution for protection of peace and environment to remain democratic. Within the environmental movement, as an inheritance from May 1968, one already finds “libertarian principles of organization: no accumulation of mandates, rotation of positions, distrust toward leaders and professional politicians, self management and decentralization, etc.” (13). An anti authoritarian tendency also seems to exist in certain institutions dedicated to establishing peace. According to N. Lemay Hébert, the OSCE defends a vision of peacebuilding based on “the establishment of an infrastructure conducive to the development of genuine local initiatives,” rather than the imposition of top down solutions (14).

One may compare war and pollution to diseases which, if left untreated, can lead to death of populations. This comparison between illness of an organism, war within and between societies, and environmental pollution is encouraged by the different levels of integration of living matter. These levels structure the individual, the group, and their environment. Cells are organized into (i) multicellular organisms, plant or animal, which form (ii) colonies and societies and, at a higher level, (iii) a population which, in relation to other species, constitutes (iv) a biological community—the biocenosis—and a biotope, including physical and chemical environment, all of which form an ecosystem, up to the ultimate planetary level of (v) the ecosphere (15). B. Callicott’s biosocial theory, in In Defense of the Land Ethic (1989), distinguishes more simply (i) the circle of other human beings; then (ii) that formed with hybrids, such as pets, domestic or farm animals, zoological gardens, etc., within an artificial ecosystem; and finally (iii) the community formed with all other species of the biosphere (16).

One may consider depollution of a site or de indoctrination of a society as forms of therapy aimed at restoring a natural and social equilibrium. The following description of the situation in Holland, where Spinoza lived, illustrates quite well the idea of a viable socio physical whole: “Very poor himself, with almost no needs, Spinoza is grateful to wealthy Holland for being not only a land of freedom—at least relative freedom—hospitable to the Jews of Spain and to all the persecuted, a place of refuge for thinkers, but also a country where people strive to diversify and beautify their lives: a land of great commerce and skillful industry, importer of spices and producer of fine fabrics, a land of rich pastures and well kept dairies, of useful windmills, of gardens blooming with delightful shade, of healthy and pleasant homes lit by a ray of art” (17). Through this example, one understands the following remark by H S. Afeissa: nature, far from being reduced to a mere reservoir or dumping ground, may “take on an aesthetic, moral, spiritual, or scientific value in the eyes of human beings, and in such cases the satisfaction it provides requires that the object remain intact” (18).

The idea of turning to an international institution, conceived on a medical model, to preserve peace and environment may appear as a biopolitical monstrosity worthy of Brave New World. Yet one may compare benefits provided by international protective organizations to those brought by large scale vaccination or literacy campaigns. If adequate safeguards are put in place to prevent potential abuses by such an institution, it may help us avoid the far more threatening dangers of war and pollution. Consider the case of the Zaporizhzhia and Chernobyl nuclear power plants in Ukraine, which suffered drone attacks and power outages in 2025, despite their vulnerability and the risks of radioactive contamination they pose.

Whatever the problem—disease, pollution, or war—the action of the institution tasked with resolving it consists in prevention, control, and repair, corresponding respectively to the before, during, and after. This sequence can be found in the canonical doctrine of just war, which distinguishes jus ad bellum, in bello, and post bellum, concerning moral justification for entering a war and obligations during and after the conflict (19). It is easy to compare this doctrine with the phases of prevention, treatment, and healing in medicine.

What corresponds to ecological prevention consists, for example, in developing circular economy, thermal insulation, or organic agriculture. “Conservation of nature,” explain M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, and P. Blandin, “is not a museological operation aimed merely at preserving products of the past, but implementation of the means necessary to maintain or even improve adaptive strategies of ecological systems: to conserve nature is to preserve its evolutionary potentialities” (20).

Peaceful prevention consists in guaranteeing education and justice, controlling circulation of weapons, and organizing diplomatic exchanges. “Positive pacifism, explains C. Bouchard, always advocates education for peace—one of the core missions of UNESCO—but above all works to reduce development inequalities that fuel militarism and violence” (21). Other types of initiatives are also possible to reduce threat and conflict, such as non violent direct action or cooperative methods of conflict resolution (22).

Controlling a phenomenon requires transparency, observation, and inspection of processes—whether biological, economic, strategic, or diplomatic. For example, “ecology makes it possible to develop monitoring instruments used to track the evolution of ecosystems and to detect early on the emergence of dysfunctions” (23). Moreover, the principles of international humanitarian law constitute an important means of observing conflicts. These principles are: (i) “the distinction between civilians and civilian objects, on the one hand, and military objectives, on the other”; (ii) “the principle of proportionality, which prohibits launching an attack that can be expected to cause incidental loss of civilian life, injury to civilians, or damage to civilian objects”; and (iii) “the principles of humanity, precaution, and the prohibition of superfluous injury and unnecessary suffering.” “Violations of these rules constitute war crimes, which are defined by international law, in particular by the Statute of the International Criminal Court” (24). One must also add the control of arms trade, for “multiplication of conflicts provides a ready made pretext for production of weapons. It is an escalation detrimental to the logic of peace” (25).

Finally, repair consists, for example, in restoring degraded ecosystems in ecology or in prosecuting and judging war criminals in law. An institution such as the League of Nations, in the interwar period, was tasked with signing of pacts (Locarno in 1925, Briand Kellogg in 1928) and settlement of territorial disputes following the disappearance of the German, Austro Hungarian, Russian, and Ottoman empires (26). Where international law has failed in its ability to resolve conflicts, just peace theory proposes a flexible process based on the principles of recognizing the other, seeking a common language for communication and dialogue, and reciprocal acceptance of renouncing certain interests (27).

What will in practice complicate defense of peace and protection of environment are, first of all, certain dilemmas: in order not to deprive population of employment or food, use of dangerous substances in industry or agriculture may be prolonged; to avoid invasion of an aggressor who intends to enslave or kill part of the population, one must be able to take up arms. Pacifism has, for example, been assigned part of the responsibility for the outbreak of war in 1939, on the grounds that it encouraged appeasement in the face of Hitler’s acts of aggression. However, this argument is questionable, for it amounts to accusing victim of having failed to deter aggressor (28).

In this complex management of situations, lies also find their way in. Under the mask of just war, people are brutalized and stripped of their rights. “In times of conflict,” recalls V. Parent, “everything is attacked and destroyed: civilian populations, infrastructures. And afterwards, it is often an opportunity to wipe out everything related to social rights” (29). Likewise, under the pretext of survival or economic development, companies and ecosystems are destroyed because of more or less opaque strategies. Since the 1970s, notes Y. Frémion, environmentalists have denounced “dangers of productivism, depletion of resources, assaults on nature.” They expressed “mistrust toward triumphant technology.” “Harms of economism, industrial gigantism, plundering of the Third World, all remind us that industrialization does not eliminate poverty but modernizes it, that we need a world with a human face, etc.” These environmentalists “proposed mastering mastery rather than mastering nature, reducing working time, argued that a society of abundance is possible by redistributing wealth differently, that Year One begins now, provided we think globally and act locally” (30).

One cannot properly conduct ecological and pacifist policy without possessing reliable and precise knowledge of situations. Thus, the first task of an institution that protects societies and environments against war and pollution is development and dissemination of the knowledge that justifies its action. Yet circulation of knowledge—and even of decisions—may be top down, bottom up, or horizontal, provided that reliability of the information is guaranteed. “When it comes to defining risks,” explains H S. Afeissa, “science loses its monopoly because it rests on speculative probabilistic hypotheses and does not integrate value criteria. A conflict may arise between the knowledge of experts and that of other experts, between the latter and the knowledge of ordinary citizens, opening battlefield of pluralist claims to rationality” (31). In other words, while it is the task of experts to train novices, the latter also possess forms of expertise, linked to their position within social structure, that are of interest to all actors.

“The challenge contemporary political ecology must meet, according to B. Latour, is therefore to build a ‘parliament of things’, that is, to give a seat to hybrids (hybrids result from human–nonhuman assemblages, e.g. car driver traffic light, patient pacemaker hospital, garden tool gardener, book reader library) in our representative assemblies, in which scientists, ecologists, urban planners, meteorologists, and ordinary citizens can debate and legislate about hybrids, with the aim of replacing the current mad proliferation of hybrids with a production that is regulated and collectively decided” (32).

The task, then, is to combine maximum participation with maximum reliability. “It goes without saying, asserts P. Engel, that a truth oriented social epistemology (…) stands at the antipodes of postmodern relativist epistemology. Adopting it presupposes rejecting all the familiar arguments that aim to reduce truth to social consensus, to adopt the principle of symmetry between the true and the false, to reject any form of foundationalism and scientific realism in the name of social constructivism, or to assimilate science and politics” (33). According to P. Engel, democratic epistemic virtues, while necessary, cannot substitute for the notions of knowledge, justification, and truth.

Finally, one must guarantee what could be called the alignment of the brain, the heart, and the hands. Since a brain without hands is powerless, a federal international institution must possess, as means of action, whatever its members grant it. Unfortunately, at present, an institution such as the UN does not possess these means to a sufficient degree. According to F. Petiteville, “the UN’s personnel levels are generally below what would be necessary to guarantee security effectively… The continuum between the political conception of peace missions and their military management on the ground is thereby weakened” (34).

As for the image of the brain without a heart, it illustrates indifference to truth, encouraged by the belief in its non existence. Yet in the face of the complexity of ecological and geopolitical issues, it is necessary to provide clear knowledge in order to enable rigorous and constructive adversarial debate. This requires not only willingness to seek objective data, but also to clarify the terms of the debates. As Pierre Allan and Alexis Keller note, “Negotiation is translation and translation is negotiation. The question of interpretation thus becomes crucial, as negotiators must agree on the meaning of terms during peace process” (35).

We have seen in this text that struggle against pollution and war is waged at various individual and collective levels. Creation of international bodies proves necessary, given the global scale of these scourges. Here are a few examples—among many others—of activist groups working for the environment around the world: the Green Belt Movement, in response to deforestation and soil erosion in Kenya; the association Navdanya (“Nine Seeds”) in India, dedicated to conserving biodiversity in agricultural practices; and the Civic Council of Popular and Indigenous Organizations of Honduras (COPINH), opposed to the Zarca dam. The role of international bodies must therefore be to provide a framework commensurate with the problems to be addressed and to support local organizations. One may compare this to the need for international coordination in combating an epidemic. However, such bodies must not substitute for the will of individuals and peoples.

We have also seen in this text that, as with treatment of diseases, actions against war and pollution take place before, during, and after crises occur. We then discussed complications arising from dilemmas and lies. Finally, we defended multidirectional circulation of information and decisions to ensure coordination of actions. Our main intention was to sketch a map of the levers that must be activated in the fight against war and pollution, given that appeals to civic mindedness, linguistic correctness, and eco gestures cannot suffice. Conversely, fatalism and discouragement in the face of ecological and geopolitical challenges must be rejected on principle, for they stifle at the root any hope of improvement. Utopianism is no longer permissible, since it leads to dissatisfaction, disappointment, discouragement, and once again to fatalism. What remains, no doubt, as a viable attitude, is perseverance sustained by occasional successes.

RAPHAEL EDELMAN NANTES 05/2026

(1) B. Brice, « Paix démocratique/paix libérale in Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(2) H-S, Afeissa, Qu’est-ce que l’écologie ?, Vrin, 2009

(3) Ibid.

(4) L. Finez, « Solidarité avec les peuples qui souffrent et subissent l’oppression », Ensemble, janvier 2024.

(5) Alain Rivat, « Gilbert Nicolas, Equipier du FRI, le bateau des luttes antinucléaires des années soixante-dix », Stop-nucléaire56.org, 30 mars 2016.

(6) Yves Frémion « écologiste (mouvement) », Encyclopaedia universalis, 2002.

(7) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(8) P. Allan et A. Keller, « Paix juste », Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(9) C. Tixier, « Société des nations », Ibid.

(10) F. Pettiteville « organisation internationales », Ibid.

(11) N. Lemay-Hebert, « OSCE », Ibid.

(12) F. Petiteville, op. cit.

(13) Y. Frémion, op. cit.

(14) N. Lemay-Hébert, op. cit.

(15) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, « Ecologie », Encyclopaedia universalis, 2002.

(16) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(17) Charles Appuhn, Note de la proposition XLV, Corollaire II, Scolie, de l’Ethique de Spinoza, Garnier 1965.

(18) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(19) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(20) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, op. cit.

(21) C. Bouchard, « Pacifisme », Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(22) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(23) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, op. cit.

(24) J. -PH Joseph & C. Bectarte, "Dans la conduite de la guerre tout n'est pas permis", Ensemble, janvier 2024.

(25) L. Finez, « La paix, une valeur hautement syndicale », Ibid.

(26) C. Tixier, op. cit.

(27) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(28) C. Bouchard, op. cit.

(29) L. Finez, op. cit.

(30) Y. Frémion, op. cit. 

(31) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(32) Ibid. 

(33) P. Engel, « La vérité peut-elle survivre à la démocratie ? », Agone, Octobre 2010.

(34) F. Petiteville, op. cit.

(35) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

Photo credit: image generated by artificial intelligence.