Political Philosophy and the God of Abraham by Thomas L. Pangle
(Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2006).
(PPGA)
In the beginning was Leo Strauss with his trail-blazing Platonizing
interpretations of Genesis, “On the Interpretation of Genesis””
and “”Jerusalem and Athens”” (1967).2 Strauss famously said that
Western civilization has two vital principles or “”roots””: Greek
philosophy and the Bible. It behooves its current members to
consider both and thoughtfully opt for one.3 Strauss begat many
strong minds who in their turn considered and commented on
Genesis. Hillel Fradkin wrote well about “”God’s Politics: Lessons
from the Beginning”” (1983). Robert Sacks brought forth a fascinating
book-length reading, A Commentary on the Book of Genesis
(1991), which first appeared in installments during the 1980s in
the journal of political philosophy, Interpretation.
More recently we have received important, and rather contrasting,
commentaries by Leon R. Kass and Thomas L. Pangle.
Pangle and Kass remind of Socrates’ two interlocutors in the
Republic. Pangle resembles Glaucon, who was “”most manly [or:
courageous] in all things.”” He writes with sovereign selfconfidence
as expressed in a vigorous, complex, sometimes charged
or self-consciously dramatic prose. Kass on the other hand
reminds us of Glaucon’s gentler brother, Adeimantus, the soul of
“”moderation”” and moved by concern for the moral and physical
well-being of others. Like Glaucon Pangle is “”spiritedly”” attached
to, and comes to the defense of, the one thing he deems most
necessary. In his case, though, it is not justice understood a
certain way (as pure and as wholly beneficial to its possessor); it
is political philosophy understood in a certain Socratic-Platonic
manner.
Remarkably, both Pangle and Kass present themselves and
their readings as “”philosophical.”” For both, Socrates is a, if not
the, philosophical paradigm.4 Both read Genesis in a “”wisdomseeking
spirit.”” These deep commonalities, though, coexist with
equally deep differences and ultimate disagreements. Despite the
illumination one could derive from a comparison of the two,
because of space limitations we will attend solely to Pangle, and
only to a portion of his rich and complex book, the introduction.
It is here, however, that he provides his most extensive treatment
of what political philosophy is, and why it must engage with the
Bible. It is here that, in Strauss’s phrase, he explicitly considers
one of the two roots of Western civilization, as he prepares to
consider the other. He is well qualified to do so.
Pangle’s Credentials
Pangle is a highly regarded professor and scholar. A longtime
professor of political philosophy at the University of Toronto, in
2005 he moved to the University of Texas at Austin. He possesses
an impressively inquisitive, penetrating, and capacious mind and
he has been constant in pursuing a demanding intellectual agenda
determined early in his career. His previous work includes
complex illuminating studies of Montesquieu’s Spirit of the Laws
and of Plato’s Laws, as well as thorough treatments of John Locke,
“”America’s philosopher,”” and many of the American founders,
including their thoughts on education.5
From graduate school at the University of Chicago onward,
he wanted to study the philosophical principles of modern liberalism,
including in its distinctive American form; in significant
part this was to acquire self-knowledge as a citizen and human
being formed by his country’s regime. To do so he studied its most
self-conscious proponents, its philosophical and statesmen architects.
In order to do so with a critical vantage point, though, he
studied the classical philosophical and political alternatives. In all
this he did so under the guidance of his chief intellectual guide,
Leo Strauss, to whom he has devoted important essay-length
studies. A recent book by Pangle considers “”Leo Strauss’s thought
and intellectual legacy”” in especially (but not solely) American
academic circles.6 He is one of America’s leading “”Straussians.””
Throughout all his work Pangle presents himself as a proponent
and practitioner of what he calls “”classical rationalism”” or
“”classical political rationalism.”” In shorthand, it is Socrates,
Plato, Xenophon, and Aristotle as interpreted by Strauss. It is
more “”zetetic”” or searching than affirming; its focal topic is
human virtue and various authoritative claims made about it; and
its chief concern is the nature and viability of philosophy itself.
Having taken the measure of the liberal tenets that entered into
the foundations of our way of life, and having immersed himself
in his classical and contemporary mentors, he felt himself equipped
to consider the alternative to rationalism in any form: biblical
religion, biblical revelation, and faith.7
Political Philosophy and the God of Abraham was longmatured,
including, I’ve been told, in reading groups. While
acknowledging “”financial support”” from five institutions “”during
the years when I worked on this book,”” he points especially to “”a
very [intellectually] profitable year as Fellow”” at “”the “”Carl
Friedrich von Siemens Institute in Munich”” run by the German
Strauss scholar and devoteé Heinrich Meier.8 His book was
preceded by a contribution to a festschrift, entitled “”Political
Philosophy’s Response to the Challenge of Creation: An Essay in
Honor of Wilson Carey McWilliams.””9
Pangle’s book is considerably more intellectually dense than
Kass’s much longer commentary10 despite having only 184 pages
of text and dealing directly with “”only”” the first twenty two
chapters of Genesis. For one thing, it contains seventy-eight
pages of jam-packed, often discursive “”Notes”” whose references
would have to be looked up and considered before anyone could
justly claim to have fully taken the measure of Pangle’s thoughts
on the biblical text and on Law-centered monotheism. There is at
times staggering erudition on display in this book. It would take
a great deal—probably years—of concentrated study to absorb,
digest, and come to terms with all that Pangle has prepared for his
industrious reader’s consideration. There are other, more intrinsic,
reasons for the intellectual density of Pangle’s book. They
hinge upon the intrinsic difficulty of the biblical materials and
Pangle’s complex conception of political philosophy’s tasks and
character. Nonetheless, I believe that its broad outlines and
fundamental themes are accessible to a reflective reader who
devotes adequate time and energy to the task, say three readings
of the book.
In what follows I want to focus, as I said, upon its introduction
and the introduction’s chief theme: what political philosophy is
according to Pangle. Since it is his sovereign concern in life, we are
not surprised that it is presented in a wholly sympathetic, quite
complex and subtle way. Unpacking it will take commensurate
care.
Political Philosophy in Speech and Deed
Pangle’s general presentation of political philosophy in Political
Philosophy and the God of Abraham as a whole reminds of an
important feature of certain Platonic dialogues and their presentation
of philosophy and the philosopher. Straussian-influenced
commentators (among others) have noticed that in the Republic
and the Theatetus there is a mismatch or a lack of fit between the
ex officio presentation of “”philosophy”” and “”the philosopher””
expressed in the dialogues and the dramatis persona Socrates, the
philosopher at work in the dialogues. The presentation “”in speech””
of the philosopher is not the same as the philosopher at work “”in
deed.”” Socrates, his particular knowledge or his knowledge of
particulars and his interest in political topics such as law, nobility,
and justice, does not resemble “”the philosopher”” he sketches in
the Theatetus. And all sorts of learned efforts to liken Socrates in
the Republic to the philosopher-king of the Republic have proved
more ingenious than convincing. One certainly has to wonder
whether Socrates would be at home in, or allowed in, Kallipolis,
the beautiful “”city in speech”” he and his interlocutors construct.
Thus, on this quite important issue, one is warranted to distinguish
between “”speech”” and “”deed”” in Platonic dialogues.
In the introduction to his philosophical reading and exploration
of Genesis 1–22 (PPGA, 1–16), Pangle presents what one
could call “”political philosophy in speech,”” while in the rest of the
book he presents it “”in deed”” as it actually engages with a text, the
biblical text, and an “”interlocutor””: the biblical redactor and his
leading character, God Almighty. We will focus upon the former.
This, of course, will give our discussion an incomplete character.
Focusing first on the initial explicit presentation, however, is the
path that Pangle wants his reader to take. It is the praeparatio
lectionis he himself designed. Among other things, it provides the
model one should have in mind when reading and judging Pangle’s
subsequent interpretive practice. The introduction also has the
interest of presenting an intriguing look at Western civilization’s
philosophic and religious past and present, focused through the
lens of a single topic, political philosophy, which according to
Pangle is vitally concerned with religion and philosophy (as well
as politics) in their distinctiveness and relations.
The “”in speech”” presentation of political philosophy is cast in
terms of a number of pairs, which are (mostly) chronically and
logically connected. They follow the history of political philosophy,
starting with Socrates (PPGA, 1–3), and they culminate in a
somewhat circular manner with a renewed discussion of “”the
original core Socratic meaning of political philosophy”” and the
question of what it would mean “”to conceive of a Socratic
existence in our time?”” (PPGA, 14–15) “”In my beginning is my
end.”” The fact that Pangle proceeds in pairs is significant, it
indicates something important concerning political philosophy’s
modus procedendi. Political philosophy is “”dialectical”” and dialectics,
as the term “”dia”” indicates, requires two. (PPGA, 14) It also
recognizes or leads to “”ambiguities.””
During the course of his presentation of these pairs Pangle
introduces us to an eye-catching albeit mysterious figure: the god
of the philosophers, sometimes said to be a “”rationally intelligible
and wisely benevolent deity.”” (PPGA, 2, 5) We, however, are also
introduced to political philosophers’ practice of “”benevolent
irony”” concerning the highest themes; or in more direct language,
their wittingly uttering falsehoods about divinity, something that
Pangle does not hide but rather exposes and explains. They do so
for several understandable reasons: to accommodate their nonphilosophic
brethrens’ intellectual capacities, to provoke and
point potential philosophers to the road to the deepest issues and
toughest questions, and, last but not least, to defend philosophers
and the practice of philosophy from popular suspicion and worse.
#page#
These propositions concerning philosophical rhetoric or
esotericism are, I believe, widely known and often attributed to
“”Straussianism.”” I however want to insist that they (and other
interesting results) come from actually reading Pangle’s discussion,
not from arbitrarily imposing some stereotype upon it. They
result from an attentive reading. It is true that I have applied a few
plausible and hopefully illuminating hermeneutical principles
thereto.
My first hermeneutical principle is to read Pangle as he reads
and presents others, that is, the political philosophers from
Socrates to Strauss, whom he claims are his “”forerunners”” and
mentors. Thus, if he says that they uttered “”bold but puzzling
asservations”” as part of a deliberate rhetorical or pedagogical
strategy (PPGA, 4), I am not surprised to see many such utterances
by Pangle himself. In fact he begins his discussion of
political philosophy with two such statements. “”Bold”” attracts
intellectual interest, “”puzzling,”” queries, and (hopefully) deepening
reflection.
In a similar vein Pangle expressly says that if one wants to lead
“”a Socratic existence in our time . . . it is obviously necessary to
study with the utmost care and with the fullest self-reflection the
writings of Plato and Xenophon, in which the life of Socrates as a
political philosopher is so richly and provocatively depicted.””
(PPGA, 15) A glance at his bibliography confirms that he has done
so.11 Here he candidly declares that “”in the pages of Plato and
Xenophon we see Socrates portrayed as at pains to disguise the
extent of his unorthodoxy, through the weaving of a designedly
ambiguous . . . self-presentation.”” (PPGA, 3; italics added) Furthermore,
in Pangle’s judgment “”Xenophon and Plato [themselves]
manifestly carry further this benevolently deceptive, responsibly
prudent rhetoric.“” (PPGA, 3; italics added) We thus are
clued to the need to consider Pangle’s own prose, his claims and
arguments, with a certain care, open to such rhetorical and
pedagogical possibilities.
A second hermeneutical principle I have adopted is to modestly
apply Socratic questioning to Pangle’s own claims and
arguments. A genuine Socratic would have to welcome, I would
think, a friendly outsider looking in upon his claims and commitments
and offering to help him with his self-appointed task of
“”severely self-critical rational investigation.””
The Idea of Political Philosophy
With these two principles and this agenda in mind, we can turn to
Pangle’s first two-part statement of what political philosophy is. As
the first, it sets the tone and opens the horizon for the subsequent
discussion. I liken it to a star Pangle sets atop that horizon, which
sheds its cool light on Western civilization below. (cf. 1)
“”Political philosophy in the strict sense aspires to be unqualifiedly
normative rationalism: political philosophy claims to show
how human beings, led by the wisest among them, can discover the
fixed truth about their situation in the universe, about the good,
about justice, and even about the revelations of divinity, by using
reason as their ‘only Star and compass’ (John Locke, Two Treatises
of Government, 1. 58).”” (PPGA, 1) The closing reference to
John Locke highlights the otherwise impersonal and abstract
character of the opening description of political philosophy. In
addition to its abstractness, it is quite arresting in the boldness of
its “”claim,”” and upon reflection more than a little puzzling. This
probably is the intended result. But such a procedure is not solely
in the control of the pedagogue or rhetor Pangle, and this in two
senses. The reader himself has to find it remarkable and puzzling,
and he may reflect upon it in unanticipated, even critical, ways.
To repeat: political philosophy initially is presented as an
impersonal “”it”” which requires or demands “”strict”” specification;
as such it is a remarkable combination of grandiosity and yet-tobe-
attained aspiration or unrealized possibility which together (as
well as separately) raise questions rather than settle the mind. One
might call this the idea of political philosophy.
Among the host of questions the dual formulations naturally
engender, I want to raise a few fairly obvious ones concerning its
goal and means, especially concerning the necessary implications
of the affirmation of the real possibility of attaining the goal. The
striking (but unexplained) affirmation of what political philosophy
“”can”” achieve raises thorny issues concerning all that is
required for it to be able to reasonably and justifiably say: I can.
That is, one can and must ask about the rational justification of
such a claim, and hence political philosophy’s possible connection
with unjustifiable claims and aspirations, with irrational hubris.
Merely asserted ability, especially of this order: comprehensive
theoretical and normative knowledge, cannot but raise eyebrows.
Even non-philosophic reason can note such boldness and request
clarification; self-conscious philosophic reason must be aware of
inherent problems with the claims and must adequately address
them, at least privatissime, if it is to make them en pleine connaissance
de cause.
Political philosophy’s guiding ideal, or its ultimate self-image,
is reason as the supreme guide and judge of man and human life.
Its goal is a form of sovereignty, in the form of or justified by
comprehensive and definitive theoretical and practical knowledge,
a goal that is breathtaking in its scope and entailments. In
the light of “”fixed truth”” about the whole, the deity, and man’s
rightful place therein, political philosophy is, or would be, “”unqualifiedly
normative.”” Whence came this ideal? Is it credible? Is
it rationally justified or justifiable? We are not told. We instead
are presented a beautiful picture, a gargantuan claim (with some
precious specification), but no supporting argumentation. The
alert reader is arrested and intrigued by it, but also puzzled and
unsure as to whether to accept the claim.
The initial questions that come to mind are corroborated and
heightened by the second dimension of this presentation of
“”political philosophy in the strict sense””: its aspirational or “”can””
character. Political philosophy both has a goal, one it is selfconscious
about, and knows that it has not arrived at its goal. But
it declares that it “”can”” attain it: presumably its aspiration is
rational or rationally justified. But that “”can””—an intriguing inbetween
condition of not-yet but able-to—requires a considerable
amount of self-knowledge, including knowledge of the adequacy
of reason’s capacities to know the whole, the deity, and
man and his good, as well as of the appropriate and adequate
means to realize those potentials. It also would entail some
prevenient but adequate “”knowledge”” of the ultimately knowable
character of the deity, the whole, and the human good. But all this
is “”known”” in media res, in media via, since reason has not yet
attained to its (purportedly) full stature. “”Can”” in this case has to
be based on a significant amount of “”already has”” if it is to be a
rationally justified “”claim.”” But it also avowedly has not arrived at
its own self-professed goal, hence my putting “”known”” and
“”knowledge”” in quotations. The quotations indicate unexplained
matters, important explanatory and justificatory matters.
Therefore it strikes one as a bit more appropriate, a bit more
modest, for political philosophy to “”claim”” to know “”how”” (and
thence “”show how””) “”human beings can discover the fixed truth.””
The accent is on method or “”how to”” go about attaining, rather
than on the attainment—the actual contents—of “”fixed truth.””
Nonetheless, the “”how to”” is necessarily connected with both
subject and object, soul and cosmos, is it not? Suitable or
adequate knowledge of “”how to”” would seem to require knowledge
of, at least, the cognitive powers of the soul and the knowable
qualities of the universe and the deity. These presuppositions in
turn raise difficult issues.
For instance, one can wonder what place, if any, there might
be for ultimate, undecipherable “”mystery”” in such a “”methodological””
conception and in the “”claim”” of ultimately “”fixed””
truthful knowledge it is intended to serve. Does “”fixed”” necessarily imply a certain view of the character of reality by predetermining
the traits of (what will be taken as) knowledge? In short:
methodical knowledge—that is, knowledge of method—always
requires methodological knowledge, i.e., rational justification for
the adequacy or appropriateness of one’s approach or view of
“”how to.”” Between soul and cosmos (and deity) a bridge must be
found and steps taken to cross it. The bridge must be rationally
constructed or justified, as well as the steps.
Upon a bit of reflection, therefore, even this “”can””—””claim””
is a puzzling and a rather demanding (or presumptive?) description
of reason, its capacities and its already acquired “”knowledge.””
As such it is one that needs much more unpacking and considerably
more justification to be accepted.
Socratic Ambiguities
The careful reader has yet to turn the first page of the introduction
and already he is abuzz with thoughts of a highly abstract
character. It comes as a certain relief, then, when Pangle next
turns to august individuals who have dealt with such abstruse
matters. Pangle, that is, introduces actual historical figures, real
political philosophers. He first turns to Socrates, who was the first
political philosopher and who remains the normative master. In
his consideration of Socrates pairs abound and structure Pangle’s
highly ambiguous discussion. This is not surprising, given that
Socrates himself was notoriously and self-proclaimedly dialectical
and “”ironic.””
We are first told that “”the philosophic enterprise . . . was
refounded by Socrates”” (PPGA, 1), then that “”he initiated . . . the
enterprise of political philosophy”” (PPGA, 2; italics added).
Philosophy was refounded by Socrates and political philosophy
came to be. One thinks of Socrates’ account of his “”second sailing””
in the Phaedo. Pangle, however, does not mention this famous
passage. Nor does he explain the claim when he first makes it. It
is only later that he addresses this intriguing Socratic re-founding
or “”second sailing.”” To anticipate a bit: philosophy tout court seeks
the truth about “”nature, including human nature””; political philosophy considers authoritative—that is, divinely and legally
enforced notions of nobility and justice, especially those which
explicitly or implicitly deny that knowledge of nature is necessary,
desirable, or possible. Explaining this conundrum will be the
special task of the “”medieval Platonists and Aristotelians,”” especially
Maimonides.
Pangle’s discussion of Socrates is broadly structured around
the important distinction and pair, the public and the private. On
one hand he attends to “”his most famous public statement about
the meaning of his life (Apology of Socrates, 37e–38a)”” (PPGA, 1),
on the other he considers “”the private conversation that Plato
allows us to overhear in his Symposium“” (PPGA, 2). The public
Socrates “”proclaimed”” his piety, his god-given mission, his special
relationship with a “”daimonic voice.”” (Pangle uses the remarkable,
distancing term “”proclaimed”” twice in this connection.)
Socrates also says in this passage, however, that some among his
auditors will think that he is being “”ironically deceptive”” in making
these claims. He does not say why they might think so, nor
whether they would be on to something. However in the very same
breath he gives an alternative account of his distinctive “”thing””
(his pragma), his “”peculiar refutative activity”” (PPGA, 2). This
characteristic activity was fueled by the desire to seek “”the
greatest good for a human being”” (PPGA, 2), this was the prize
that drew him. It involves “”carrying on dialogues and examining
both myself and others,”” that is, “”each day [making] rational
arguments about virtue and also about other matters.”” (PPGA, 2)
Having raised this alternative account of his way of life, he again
declares to his audience: “”you will believe me still less when I say
these things.”” He stands disbelieved and discounted on either
ground! But the reader is puzzled by these alternative accounts. Is
his life divinely inspired, supremely obedient to “”the god,”” or is it
the prudent carrying out of a rational understanding of the human
good and of the necessary and constitutive means toward it,
dialectical investigation, elenchic arguments? At this juncture
one simply can note that the puzzling ambiguity is itself raised by
the publicly speaking Socrates. Such discourse, however, continues in Pangle’s own subsequent discussions of Socrates and his
relationship to the divine.
Basing himself on certain passages in Xenophon, Pangle avers
that Socrates “”does not by any means discount divine revelation
or inspiration as an experienced source of guidance that may be
beyond what reason and the evidence of the senses manifestly
provides.”” Immediately following, though, we are told that “”the
Socratic way is to bow to such guidance solely insofar as it can be
recognized as delivered by an intelligibly wise and benevolent
deity—supplementing (especially for educational purposes), but
not contradicting, reason”” (italics added). We thus are told about
a most remarkable figure, “”an intelligibly wise and benevolent
deity.”” Apparently deity exists and is in communication with
human beings, Socrates included. The deity likewise appears to be
a model and supreme friend of reason, as well as a supreme
pedagogue: in its utterances or revelations it supplements reason
while not contradicting it. It is in this deity, we are told, that
Socrates believes, to its utterances he attends. But we are also told
that he does so with a certain criterion of evaluation and acceptance
in mind, his own canon of intelligibility and reasonableness.
Speak, O god, I will listen; but I will accept what you say only so
far as I understand it and find it reasonable. This is a remarkable
relationship for a human to have with the divine, a deity. It seems
somehow superfluous, why does Socrates’ reason need to be
supplemented, if it is the bar at which purported divine utterances
are judged? More pointedly, the deity seems to be subordinate to
Socrates himself in a decisive way. A certain uneasiness dawns.
When one pursues Pangle’s subsequent discussions of philosophers’
criteria for judging purported revelations, one’s suspicions
are further confirmed. Commenting in his own name on a
passage from John Locke’s Reasonableness of Christianity, Pangle
writes: “”The role assigned . . . to revelation implies that the
philosophers understand genuine revelation as the prudent instructional
and political rhetoric attributable to a wisely benevolent
deity.”” (PPGA, 5; italics added) Revelation, “”genuine revelation,””
from the philosophers’ perspective is “”rhetoric””—prudent,
educational, and political—that can be attributed to a deity of a
certain character. The ambiguity of the term “”attributable”” cannot
escape notice. Does revelation come from a really existing
deity or is it merely ascribed to a fiction? This question, this
ambiguity, is kept alive throughout Pangle’s discussion. For now
we will simply note that he openly acknowledges that “”it is true
that the character of the divinity that unassisted reason is held to
disclose is in serious dispute between the ancient and the modern
rationalists.”” (PPGA, 5) And in a similar vein, he speaks of “”the
classical and medieval conceptions of divinity”” (PPGA, 3; italics
added), indicating plurality and disagreement. “”The god of the
philosophers”” is far from a univocal notion.
We have already heard Pangle declare that “”in the pages of
Plato and Xenophon we see Socrates portrayed as at pains to
disguise the extent of his unorthodoxy, through the weaving of a
designedly ambiguous and even deceptive self-presentation.””
(PPGA, 3) With this confession it becomes clear why Socrates
raised the possibility that some among his auditors at his trial
would think that he was being “”ironically deceptive.”” He was. How
are we then to understand, to decipher, Socrates’ ambiguous
utterances? This is indicated by Pangle in his treatment of the
“”private”” Socrates, the Socrates of the Symposium. There Socrates
and Pangle turn from “”the god”” to “”eros [love],”” a “”proclaimedly””
lesser member of the divine realm. But Pangle (plausibly) strips
away Socrates’ own daimonic and deistic language in the Symposium
and exposes a remarkably naturalistic reality.
Socrates’ words in the dialogue are that “”all the daimonic is inbetween
god and mortal,”” having the power to “”interpret and
transmit to gods the things from humans, and to humans the
things from gods—from the former, the imploring prayers and
sacrifices; from the latter, the commandments and reciprocations””
(Symposium 202d–e).”” (PPGA, 2–3) But Pangle infers and
paraphrases: “”Thus according to Socrates, erotic love—at once
devotional and needy, and deeply linked to righteousness or
justice—is the avenue to the divine.”” (PPGA, 3) Two points:
Pangle translates, that is, bleaches, Socrates hypercultic language
of “”gods,”” “”prayers and sacrifices,”” and “”commandments and
reciprocations”” and substitutes more straightforward, less “”inflected””
terms: “”devotion”” and “”need,”” “”righteousness or justice.””
They are not nearly the same. Similarly, he enhances or emphasizes
the original in novel, distinctive ways. Socrates does not say
that “”love”” is “”the avenue to the divine””; this superlative or
singularity is Pangle’s gloss. One might be able think of other
possible Socratic avenues to the divine. Pangle’s entire recasting
statement is a distilled interpretation of Socrates or Socratism in
the guise of a paraphrase.
Similarly, Pangle gives content to eros, devotional and needy,
that, while not implausible, does not appear on the surface of
Socrates’ words. Nor does Pangle’s glossing end at this point, the
matter is too important for him. He next asserts (again, without
any instant textual warrant), “”but if love is to conduct the soul to
the truly divine, to the truth about the divine, then love must be
purified in the fire of severely self-critical rational investigation of
both love itself and its primary or apparent objects.”” (PPGA, 3)
We are far from Socrates’ above-cited words.
Eros motivates the ascent to the divine, we are told: it is some
sort of “”need”” of which one is aware and to whose fulfillment one
is “”devoted.”” But it also requires “”purification”” by a distinctive
form of asceticism, self-critical rational investigation. And that
self-criticism takes in both the great motor or motive of the
ascent, eros itself, as well as its very motivating object, the divine
(or the beautiful). Given these qualities, these hard-to-hold
together features, it is not surprising to read in a Socratic-poetic
vein in the Symposium that eros is the issue of the irregular or
illegitimate one-time coupling of a very odd couple, plenty and
penury, and that he is a fellow who has to make his own way in life
inventing and attending to “”contrivances”” of marvelous cast.12
These contrivances would include dialectics itself, as well as
fictions concerning the highest things.
#page#
After a first look at Socrates, which culminates in a consideration
of his deepest motivation and its imperatives, Pangle turns
to “”the original Socratics,”” Plato and Aristotle.
Authentic Heirs
Most readers of Plato and Aristotle would agree that “”the speculations
of Plato and Aristotle culminate in a pure and eternally
active mind.”” We have the “”likely story”” of the Timaeus concerning
the demiurge, as well as the nous-god of the Metaphysics. They
probably would agree that it is “”disembodied but manifest in the
visible universe, especially in the stars, which appear to be the
bodies of lesser divinities.”” (PPGA, 5) They might even note and
agree with Pangle’s use of the term “”speculations”” to indicate the
character of these reflections and arguments; these do not have
the character of demonstrative or apodeictic proofs.
But Pangle goes further and contextualizes—that is, renders
questionable—even these speculations and the deity they arrive
at. To be sure, Pangle affirms that “”the ancient rationalists”” were
“”serious about elaborating a ‘natural theology’ (theologia naturalis).””
But Pangle’s ancient (and modern) rationalists are always aware
of their audiences and the possible, and divergent, impact of their
words. On one hand, says Pangle, Plato and Aristotle “”expect””
their natural theologies “”to be only barely tolerated in society,””
while for a few they “”will provide a map of the path toward
constructive fundamental questions.”” In other words, the popular
many and the intellectually talented few are understood and
approached differently, even in the same argument. For the
promising few, understanding the speculations culminating in a
disembodied nous-god as a “”map of the path toward”” further
questions is not the same as accepting the arguments and the
natural theology tout court. Once again, Pangle’s notion of the
philosophers’ deity remains elusive.
What is clear is that like Socrates, his Aristotle can argue
about divinity both dialectically, i.e., on the premises of his nonphilosophic
readers, as well as on his own independently arrived
at philosophical principles. In keeping with the former tack,
“”given the premise of the ‘special blessedness and happiness of the
gods,’ would it not be ‘absurd,’ Aristotle asks, ‘for them to manifest
themselves as entering into covenants and returning deposits and
other things of this kind?'”” (PPGA, 5–6) Aristotle begins from a
commonly held opinion concerning the perfection of the gods and
then draws unpopular conclusions there from. He is not thereby
committed to holding the premise itself, especially in the way that
popular opinion does.
The Medieval Rationalists
Readers of this and similar arguments who adhered to, or were
aware of, biblical religion—religions precisely of various “”covenants,””
old and new—could not fail to be challenged by them.
For more than chronological reasons Pangle turns next to “”the
medieval Platonists and Aristotelians.”” (PPGA, 13) Their reflections
are particularly important because they directly confronted
the challenge of biblical religion to classical philosophy. They also
were the first to conceive and execute a classically informed
philosophical response. According to Pangle they maintained
“”that the original vindication of classical rationalism—carried out
in the face of the challenge posed by popular and poetic claims of
contrarational polytheistic revelation—remained valid when rethought
or reenacted in a confrontation with the challenge posed
to philosophical rationalism by the more awesome Holy Scripture.””
(PPGA, 13)
Pangle’s discussion of “”the medieval rationalists”” accordingly
involves the fullest statement of the nature of the enterprise of
political philosophy. It continues his characteristic manner of
proceeding, adding a new twist or two. The discussion, for
example, moves from “”the medieval rationalists,”” otherwise known
as “”medieval Platonists and Aristotelians,”” to “”medieval Platonists,””
to “”Maimonides.”” Aristotle drops out, and at the end Maimonides,
a puzzling figure in his own right, steps to the fore.13
Speaking of “”the medieval Platonists”” Pangle acknowledges
that they “”do not themselves offer commentaries on Genesis.””
(PPGA, 13) How then could they be of assistance, even fundamental
assistance? They “”give . . . guidance as to what would or
should be the foci of a classically rationalist interrogation of the
bible”” (italics added). Initially, they indicate what to focus on. The
guidance deserves full citation.
“”They indicate that the cynosure ought to be, in the first place,
Creation and the divine attributes; and then in the second place,
and most decisively, the meaning of divine law and right as
delivered through prophecy”” (italics added). These latter—divine
law and right—refer to “”the principles of justice and nobility
underlying and animating the divine law, and also animated the
providence and the prophecy that bring this law from God to
humanity.”” God, his attributes and his distinctive actions of
creation and providence, then divine-human conjunctions and
products, prophecy and Law, and, finally, divinely required
human justice and nobility: these are the interconnected themes
that the medievals and the contemporary Socratic put before
themselves. When one asks, how do they fit together, both in
themselves and in an order of investigation? Pangle answers by
invoking an authoritative name:
According to Maimonides, the focus on Creation and the divine
attributes clarifies and deepens the meaning of the philosophy
of nature (including, of course, human nature) which is the heart
of the enterprise that political philosophy comes into being to
defend (consider Plato Theaetetus 173c7–177c2). And then the
philosophic inquiry into divine law and lawgiving—into the
foundation or vindication of law as such, in its majesty or in its
most complete self-expression—is the authentic expression of
classical political philosophy, that is, of the only adequate
philosophic grounding for or justification of the philosophic
study of nature.14 (PPGA, 13–14)
Structurally, one could put the foregoing in two parallel
columns, one devoted to classical authors, the other to medievals
who confronted biblical religions centered around divine Law.
The former column would consist of philosophy simply, the
philosophy of nature and of human nature, and political philosophy.
The second column would be headed by topics: God and
nature or the cosmos understood as creation, and man, understood as the recipient of divine guidance via divinely inspired
prophets and above all a divine Law which enjoins right action and
corresponding proper attitudes and motives. The task for medievals
was to bring the two together, hopefully or presumably in a way
that would respect the integrity of both. That, of course, was a
Herculean task. It is not surprising that Pangle does not fully state
how they did so.15 As it is the crux of the matter, one should
carefully attend to what is said.
Socrates “”refounded philosophy”” and “”initiated”” the enterprise
of political philosophy. Philosophy antedated political philosophy.
The questions become, why did Socrates re-found
original philosophizing, why did he turn from inquiry into nature
(phusiologia) to the polis, its inhabitants, and political philosophizing?
Many, including Pangle himself, have written and written well
about the rationale or meaning of the “”Socratic turn,”” Socrates’
“”second sailing.”” One answer given is that the original philosophers
presupposed the legitimacy of their “”phusiologic”” activity,
whereas the authoritative nomoi of their communities declared
that such investigations were unnecessary and even hubristic,
worthy of censure and worse. The gods had given the mortals
adequate guidance in the nomoi or laws of the cities, as well as
warning them about the adverse consequences of immoderately
seeking to know more than was mete. Independent inquiry
therefore had to justify itself for both external, threats of condemnation,
and internal reasons (avoiding a petitio principii). The
nomoi had to be confronted and critiqued, their inadequacy
demonstrated, if philosophy were to continue its investigations
into the natural world with a rationally justified clear conscience.
One can easily see parallels between the classical situation of
philosophy and the situation engendered by the advent of revealed
religion of a fundamentally lawful or legal cast.
But staying within the confines of Pangle’s text here, two
motives for the turn to political philosophy come to the fore. As
a “”two,”” they potentially have an ambiguous relationship, one that
bears exploring. The first motive is for what Pangle calls “”the
manifest Truth”” (especially or ultimately “”the truth of divinity””),
the second is a deep desire for “”emancipation”” and even “”selfemancipation,””
in other words for rational “”autonomy”” or “”independence””
of a very thoroughgoing sort. “”Philosophy in the strict
Socratic sense wholly agrees with Augustine and Milton and Barth
and the Rabbis that a fully human life can and ought to be guided
solely by the manifest Truth.””16 (PPGA, 9) While “”a Socratic
existence in our time”” requires “”a recapitulation of the Socratic
activity of liberation and self-liberation.”” (PPGA, 15)
The former, manifest Truth, must, as we have seen, come to
the philosopher in a mode he finds intelligible and acceptable,
perhaps even agreeable. Pangle, in this agreeing with Augustine
(PPGA, 1), speaks of “”what reason and the evidence of the senses
manifestly provide.”” (PPGA, 2) Truth as such, in and of itself, is
not quite his primary desire or object, it is truth that he can claim
as his own, as satisfying his reason’s canons and strictures. In
other words, “”rational autonomy”” is a very capacious criterion or
desideratum, perhaps even a decisive one, since it straddles both
motives. Now, reason committed to judging of its own selfsufficiency
or adequacy on the basis of its own criteria would seem
to be necessarily involved in a petitio principii. Reason “”rationally
judging itself”” is not an innocent paradox for rationalism or
rationalists.
Another “”Socratic”” person looking at these two motives,
therefore, could legitimately wonder about their interrelationship.
Has Pangle scrutinized the deepest presuppositions, and
critically examined the likely effects, of what he presents as
philosophical reason’s own desire or demand for “”emancipation
and self-emancipation””? At the very least, love of truth, of
manifest Truth, coexists with a spirited desire for independence.
The two are not the same and truly self-critical rational investigation
would have to attend to the latter motive. It would have to do
so with an exquisite sensitivity to the awkwardness of the situation
and endeavor. It is not clear in the introduction whether or how
Pangle and his heroes do so.
One can make the point in a related manner. The original
philosophic quest for nature arguably was affected by a certain,
shall we say, naiveté or perhaps headstrongness, which compromised
its rational, that is, rationally justified, character. It assumed
its legitimacy and possibility, its desirability and feasibility.
Political philosophy is philosophy that is more self-aware,
more self-aware of its need for justification, and more self-aware
of the proper avenue to take to do so. All well and good (or
rational and right), one might say.
But one still has to note that political philosophy itself has a
carried-over, self-assumed commitment and task: to justify rational
investigation into everything, that is, to justify rational independence
from all authority, including divine and political authority,
other than its own deliverances and conclusions. There
continues to be something of a petition principii at work. Therefore
it is difficult to take Pangle strictly at his word: “”We want, in
short, to recover the possibility of a philosophic interrogation of
the Bible, in unqualified openness to eliciting and hearing its
message.”” (PPGA, 12) Pangle’s openness is not unqualified, it
presupposes and is at the service of a defense, a defense against
what he takes to be a mortal foe, a “”supremely troubling challenge.””
He seems to be aware of the difficulty because he continues:
“”a [biblical] message whose supremely troubling challenge to
philosophy we want to wrestle with in all essentials””17 (italics
added). Unqualified openness, one can think, is difficult if not
impossible to maintain in conjunction with the wrestler’s stance
as he confronts and comes to grips with his supremely challenging
opponent. Elsewhere Pangle resorts to a not very helpful slash or
hypen to bridge the gap between openness and defense, as he
writes of “”political philosophy, understood as the essential dialectical
partner/antagonist of political theology”” (PPGA, 12; italics
added). At the very least, how Pangle more precisely combines
the two “”stances”” bears close watching.
When he writes later in the introduction of how he will do so,
we have to note who always has the last word in what he says he
wants to be “”the truest and fullest dialogue between political
philosophy and biblical revelation.”” (PPGA, 12) By “”setting forth
the most plausible and coherent interpretation of the Bible’s
teaching on the basis of its own premises”” he seeks to engage in
such a dialogue. (PPGA, 11) That dialogue will illumine “”what we
can gather of the integral intelligible teaching of the Bible,”” but
also “”of philosophical rationalism’s response to that integral
intelligible teaching”” (PPGA, 13; italics added). Philosophy apparently
has both the first and last words when it comes to what’s
“”reasonable”” and “”intelligible.””
Now, happily, according to Pangle there are arguably objective
or mutually agreeable grounds upon which the two can meet
and enter into dialogue. “”It is in regard to the right and the good—
that is, in regard to justice or righteousness—that political
philosophy and scriptural piety have the fullest basis for a
conversation that may well be mutually illuminating.”” (PPGA, 10)
But there are questions one can raise here, as well.
One question concerns the problem of “”translation”” or commensurability
of idioms between the two. (I continue to focus
upon “”language”” as expressing categories of thought and more
and less articulate experiences of human life and the world.)
Biblical piety expresses itself in a distinctive vocabulary, starting
with terms such as Creator and creation and going to holiness,
righteousness, and sin. Political philosophy speaks of justice and
nobility, the voluntary and the involuntary, as well as nature,
form, and causality. To be sure, there is some common or
overlapping vocabulary, the central term “”Law,”” for example. But
there are deep differences as well. It is well known that Hebrew
Scripture does not contain the central philosophical term “”nature.””
Its articulation of the world does without that term and its
presuppositions and implications. How does Pangle address the
issue or, more precisely, say that he will in the introduction?
On one hand, he makes it his “”business to set forth the most
plausible and coherent interpretation of the Bible’s teaching on
the basis of its own premises.”” (11) He wants to “”gather”” as much
as he can “”of the integral intelligible teaching of the bible.””18
(PPGA, 13) But he does so always from political philosophy’s
perspective, employing its distinctive vocabulary as well, as we
have seen. To stay at Pangle’s preferred or “”decisive”” level of the
human experience of the human, one has to wonder whether the
“”Greek”” category of, say, “”the noble,”” whether in its prephilosophical
or its philosophical meanings, adequately reflects
biblical “”righteousness,”” much less “”holiness.”” And if not, one
would have to pay particular attention to the adjustments the
contemporary Socratic makes in his inherited conceptual and
lexical framework as he addresses distinctly biblical materials.
The foregoing is a particular instance of a general issue, which
involves three components and an apparent presupposition on
Pangle’s part. Pangle seems to equate Greek or classical rationalism
with reason tout court, or with reason at its most selfconscious
and defensible. On the basis of that identification, he
turns to the biblical text, confident that that philosophical instrument
is adequate to grasp (well enough) that text and its “”meaning””
(PPGA, 1), at least in its fundamental “”essentials.”” (PPGA,
12) Many philosophers, and not just “”thoughtful believers,””
would find such an equation and set of presuppositions problematic,
at least worth inquiring into.
Pangle himself may dissent from such an identification. He
may hold that the medieval philosophical engagement with the
Bible, as well as the dramatically unprecedented (“”revolutionary””)
cultural project and results of modern philosophy, may have
added to, that is, importantly enlarged the stock of classical
political philosophy’s understanding. In other words and put in
aphoristic form: Leo Strauss may have known more, may have
been a more thoroughgoing political philosopher, than Socrates
himself. The introduction raises such intriguing prospects, but
Pangle does not pursue them himself. They might affect one’s
understanding of political philosophy in ways that challenge the
simple supremacy of “”classical political philosophy.””19
The Modern Rationalists, Us, and Pangle
After the medievals, of course, came “”the modern political
philosophers.”” While he calls them “”rationalists,”” Pangle does not
call them Platonists and Aristotelians. They departed significantly
from the classical forerunners. “”Machiavelli, Hobbes, and Spinoza
in the early modern period”” “”once again refounded [political
philosophy], with a dramatically altered but not wholly new
agenda.”” (PPGA, 1) One word sums up the dramatic alteration:
“”enlightenment.”” “”Hobbes and Locke and their modern comrades-
in-arms”” had a “”revolutionary, secularizing project”” in mind,
that of “”enlightenment.”” (PPGA, 10) They philosophically conceived
and literarily executed, precisely in “”theological-political
treatises,”” “”a titanic strategy”” (PPGA, 6), “”a key dimension”” of
which was “”to reconceive and in a sense rewrite Holy Writ so as
to be subsumed in a vast secular cultural revolution.”” (PPGA, 6)
That means they engaged in an “”impishly ironic conspiracy to
make the Scriptures appear to conform to, and support, their
revolutionary, secularizing project.”” (PPGA, 10) However, “”it is
not too difficult to discern this strategy,”” says Pangle.
It is more difficult, however, “”to recognize the truly serious
and troubling questions these thinkers raise (often implicitly or
quietly) about the coherence, sophistication, and provenance of
the original biblical message.”” They were “”uncompromising modern
rationalists.”” As such even their “”apparently crude and hostile
or derisive”” critiques and “”revisions of the Bible”” “”are rooted in
a searching prior attempt to grasp as clearly as possible the
biblical challenge to their rationalist independence.”” (PPGA, 11)
Pangle, accordingly, will make use of the deeper level of their
reflection.
The “”success of the cultural revolution that these modern
rationalists launched and carried out,”” however, makes his present
task both more difficult and more urgent that it would otherwise
be. Pangle reserves some of his most dramatic and ominous prose
for the description of the arid, unpromising contemporary cultural
scene. It is here that the clouds are darkest, light, most rare
and imperiled. A few citations can limn the situation.
On one hand, “”the success of the cultural revolution that these
modern rationalists launched . . . has been big enough to bring
about a condition in which it is more and more the case that
discussion not only of theology but of humanity’s spiritual fulfillment
and destiny has become radically ‘relativized’ and thus
increasingly rendered unserious.”” (PPGA, 11) So “”unserious”” has
it become that he can speak of “”this cultural amusement park that
more or less benevolently confines us like etiolated adolescents.””
(PPGA, 11–12)
On the other hand, “”what is so deeply troubling about the
current scene is the degree to which what is called contemporary
‘philosophy’ represents the explicit abandonment of rationalism.””
(PPGA, 12) The rational instrument the modern rationalists
employed in their gigantomachia with the Bible has itself suffered
decline, even eclipse.20 For example, “”‘postmodernism,’ in the
hands of its highest priests, is more and more clearly visible as a
vindication of amorphous quasi-religious faith(s) over and against
the supposedly exploded pretensions of autonomous reason.””
(PPGA, 12) It comes as no great surprise, then, that “”the acute
concern that animates the present book is the revival . . . of
rationalism,”” that is, rationalism “”in its classic form.”” (PPGA, 12)
Today’s situation can be usefully contrasted, that is, illumined
by the status quo ante. “”For Socrates (and indeed for all the
thinkers of the pre-modern centuries), authoritative, commanding
divinity, and hence the undeniable, all-comprehensive challenge
revelation poses to independent reason, was part of the very
air one breathed as one grew to maturity. The spur to think one’s
way to the truth about the divine was ubiquitous.”” (PPGA, 15) We
today, however, find ourselves “”at an enormous artificial distance
from this starting point.”” This is where Scripture enters, apparently
to save the day for philosophy. “”The Bible still lives, as an
accessible, vivid, and intrinsically mighty challenge to philosophic
reason.”” In these circumstances, one’s erstwhile (and perhaps
eternal) mortal foe is also one’s salvation. There is something
worthy of wonder, if not gratitude, and reflection here.
A Final Query
“”What is required, and what is possible, is a dialectical ascent,
wrenching but not discontinuous, from the primary experiences
and opinions to their higher and truer inner meaning.”” (PPGA, 14)
Before our day, those primary experiences and opinions were
typically shaped by “”the sacred traditions, texts, and beliefs”” that
were authoritatively, that is, legally established. Our day sees us
liberated from such compelling Authority. We, however, have
been excessively liberated, we have become liberated not only
from Law but also Reason’s authority. Thus the traditional and
natural ground or soil for philosophy, decisively but externally
articulated human experience, has been much impoverished. But
the sacred text, the awesome Holy Writ, remains available to
challenge and thus to invigorate philosophizing.
And yet the philosopher must have some experience—and
experiences of distinctive sorts—and not just “”reason””—if his
engagement with Scripture is to be plausible—is to resonate at all
with its object. The philosopher must have the distinctively
human “”moral”” experiences of obligation, fairness, nobility of
character and deed, perhaps of purity or holiness; perhaps, too,
of awe and dictates and pangs of conscience, as well as consciousness
of mystery. To be human, I would think and even stoutly
maintain, he must experience their reality, their strong claims and
even imperious demands, as well as their complexity and conflicts.
If not, will he be able to detect and consider them in the Bible?
What will he think about at all, if not, at least that is of importance?
To be sure, he also must have, and have an especially powerful,
experience of the reality, the power, and, I even venture to say,
the beauty of truth. Truth does and can rightful make its claims
upon men, claims that can challenge other claims (see above) that
characterize human life. But part, an essential part, of the claim
of truth, and of the experience of the discovery of truth, is that it
is above human will, it is not manufactured, that it measures us.
Philosophers, both as human beings and as lovers of truth, I would
think should experience themselves fundamentally as recipients
and servants, not simply or even primarily as sovereign masters.
In the face of these powerful moral and intellectual experiences,
I wonder if “”autonomy”” is the best way to articulate
reason’s recognition of what it is to be human-in-the world. I
wonder if it skews the philosopher’s vision of things and himself,
even before he turns to the sacred text. At the very least, I would
think a philosopher would be intrigued by the prospect of
considering the constitutive human dialectic to be, not Authority
and autonomy, but recipient, steward, and servant who can freely
refuse to act and think accordingly.
Paul Seaton
St. Mary’s Seminary & University
#page#
NOTES
- Thomas L. Pangle, Political Philosophy and the God of
Abraham (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press,
2006). (Henceforth PPGA.) For the subtitle of this article, see
note 3. - “”On the Interpretation of Genesis”” was published posthumously
in 1981. - “”Progress or Return?”” The Rebirth of Classical Political
Rationalism: An Introduction to the Thought of Leo Strauss,
Essays and Lectures by Leo Strauss, selected and introduced by
Thomas L. Pangle (The University of Chicago Press, 1989),
245ff. - For Kass: “”As the example of Socrates reminds us, humility
before mystery and knowledge of one’s ignorance are hardy at odds
with a philosophic spirit.”” The Beginning of Wisdom: Reading
Genesis (New York & London: Free Press, 2003), 15 (cf. p. 1). - Montesquieu’s Philosophy of Liberalism: A Commentary on
the Spirit of the Laws (University of Chicago Press, 1973); The
Laws of Plato (New York: Basic Books, 1980), translated with
notes and an interpretive essay; The Spirit of Modern Republicanism:
The Moral Vision of the American Founders and the Philosophy
of John Locke (The University of Chicago Press, 1988); The
Learning of Liberty: The Educational Ideas of the American
Founders, with Lorraine Smith Pangle (Lawrence: University
Press of Kansas, 1993); see also The Ennobling of Democracy: The
Challenge of the Postmodern Age (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins
University Press, 1992). - Leo Strauss: An Introduction to His Thought and Intellectual
Legacy (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2006).
Earlier, Pangle edited The Rebirth of Classical Political Rationalism:
An Introduction to the Thought of Leo Strauss. Essays and
Lectures by Leo Strauss, selected and edited by Thomas L. Pangle
(The University of Chicago Press, 1989). He also introduced (at
Joseph Cropsey’s request) Leo Strauss: Studies in Political Philosophy
(The University of Chicago Press, 1985). And he coauthored
(with Nathan Tarcov) the entry on “”Leo Strauss”” in the third
edition of The History of Political Philosophy, originally edited by
Leo Strauss and Joseph Cropsey. - Pangle has a distinctive and elevated understanding of
“”biblical faith,”” one he finds in Calvin, Augustine, and Barth, as
well as the rabbinical tradition: “”Biblical faith at its most challenging
understands itself to be rooted in experiential knowledge—of
a kind superior to that available to unassisted reason, or to human
experience not yet illuminated by grace.”” (7; italics in the original)
Nor is it wholly or simply devoid of reason: “”In [the first twentytwo]
chapters of Genesis are to be found the most basic presuppositions
of a reflective life that roots itself finally in obedience to
the mysterious God Who reveals Himself in the Scripture”” (1;
italics added). - PPGA, Acknowledgments. Meier recently published Leo
Strauss and the Theologico-Political Problem (Cambridge & New
York: Cambridge University Press, 2006), trans. by Marcus
Brainard. In it he claims that Strauss believed that he had refuted
Revelation and he lays out several arguments that he believes
Strauss sketched to that end. The book has caused controversy in
Straussian and non-Straussian circles. - Friends and Citizens: Essays in Honor of Wilson Carey
McWilliams, edited by Peter Dennis Bathory and Nancy L.
Schwartz (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2000), pp. 13-43.
Pangle indicates that the article largely covers chapters 1 and 2 of
his subsequent book. An earlier contribution to another festschrift,
this time for his teacher Allan Bloom, set the stage for his Genesis work; it was entitled “”The Hebrew Bible’s Challenge to Political
Philosophy: Some Introductory Reflections.”” It can be found in
Political Philosophy and the Human Soul: Essays in Honor of Allan
Bloom, edited by Michael Palmer & Thomas L. Pangle (Lanham,
MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 1995), 67–82. - Kass’s weighty tome contains 666 pages of text and 11
pages of endnotes and covers all fifty chapters of Genesis. - In addition to previous lists, cf. The Roots of Political
Philosophy: Ten Forgotten Socratic Dialogues, translated, with
interpretive studies by Thomas L. Pangle (Ithaca: Cornell University
Press, 1987) and “”On the Apology of Socrates to the Jury,””
Xenophon: The Shorter Socratic Writings: Apology of Socrates to
the Jury, Oeconomicus, and Symposium, edited with interpretive
essays and notes by Robert C. Bartlett (Ithaca: Cornell University
Press, 1996), 18–38. - For a further Pangle treatment of Socratic eros, see “”On
the Theages,”” in The Roots of Political Philosophy: Ten Forgotten
Socratic Dialogues, translated, with interpretive studies by Thomas
L. Pangle (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1987), 147–74,
esp. 165–67. - For Pangle’s somewhat cryptic presentation of
Maimonides, see page 186 note 10 and page 198 note 29. - Here are Pangle’s other statements concerning the proper
order of investigation. “”Now, it is in regard to the right and the
good—that is, in regard to justice or righteousness—that political
philosophy and scriptural piety have the fullest basis for a
conversation that may well be mutually illuminating”” (10); “”Socratic
‘dialectic’ activity leads . . . through an initially painful refutational
purification of the authoritative opinions concerning justice and
nobility . . . . Plato indicates that the purgation of the understanding
of justice and nobility has as its sequel a catharsis of the
understanding of the divinity that the purified ones previously
believed
