[by Anne Kornhauser]
How did a group of German émigré intellectuals end up in a book about American liberalism and the rise of the leviathan state? As mentioned in my previous post, my book identifies three areas of concern among liberals who supported the newly enlarged, executive-centered, bureaucratized state but who did so with reservations about the absence of legitimating principles and the direction in which the state might be heading. The areas under threat were democracy, the rule of law, and individual autonomy. Here I will focus on the second, the rule of law.
How did a group of German émigré intellectuals end up in a book about American liberalism and the rise of the leviathan state? As mentioned in my previous post, my book identifies three areas of concern among liberals who supported the newly enlarged, executive-centered, bureaucratized state but who did so with reservations about the absence of legitimating principles and the direction in which the state might be heading. The areas under threat were democracy, the rule of law, and individual autonomy. Here I will focus on the second, the rule of law.
As Joanna Grisinger superbly shows,
the campaign to shore up weakened legal institutions turned technical
and piecemeal in the 1940s. In legal thought, meanwhile, most legal
realists were dabbling in a sort of eclecticism that lent itself to
specific social and political reforms and viewed law as merely
instrumental to these goals. By contrast, a group of German émigré intellectuals, who were trained in law and who advised the U.S.
government on its strategy to defeat the Nazis and to reconstruct the
German state, thought in broad terms about the erosion of legal norms in
the wake of the administrative state at war.
There are
good reasons why the Germans took up the mantle of what I call
"legalism" in the 1940s, but before delineating them let me take a step
back to comment on the very presence of the Germans in my book about American liberalism and its state. Although
this was less the case when I started this project, German-born
intellectuals have been enjoying a scholarly renaissance of late, not
least among historians. No small part of this resurgence can be
attributed to an outburst of scholarship on Henry Kissinger alone. The
reasons for this are rather obvious and I will not rehearse them here.
This
revivification of German émigré intellectuals goes well beyond the
hoopla surrounding Kissinger. Intellectual and legal historians have
brought newfound attention to a larger group of "foreign policy
intellectuals," as they ride the wave of transnational historiography
and seek to understand what lay behind the postwar assertion of
U.S. power. These scholars trace the growth and transformation of the
national security state in which German émigrés played a significant, if
underappreciated, role. One notable multidisciplinary effort has
focused on the concept of "militant democracy," which, put crudely,
claims radical limitations on democracy to prevent a threat to its existence. (This concept will be the subject of my next post.)
Faced
with a state determined to eradicate all vestiges of fascism and to
prevent its resurrection, German legalist émigrés, including Arnold
Brecht, Carl Friedrich, Otto Kirchheimer, Karl Loewenstein, and Franz
Neumann, among others, turned to the rule of law ideal, as they
understood it. Broadly, this ideal valorized the constraining influence
of law on political power--including democracy itself in some instances--and
its concomitant protection of the individual. In my book, I use
"legalism" to describe this set of ideas, as it did not follow precisely
either the German concept of the Rechtsstaat or the Diceyean idea of the rule of law.
Legalism
was useful for thinking about the state in wartime because it defined legitimate state action under the simultaneous conditions of great
duress and maximal power. The state was constrained by circumstances
alone. In the legalist view, law had distinct properties, such as
generality, impartiality, and non-retroactivity, which would help limit
arbitrary power and ensure both procedural and substantive justice for the individual. This
set of ideas did not map neatly onto any extant American legal
language. Yet if one looked at academic writings, including law journals, and occasionally the popular
press, not to mention the documents
they wrote for the OSS, concern for legality was at the forefront of
the émigrés' thinking about postwar reconstruction and justice. Why the
Germans? Among other reasons, they had been thinking about the rule of law and the state since
the rise and fall of Weimar and their intellectual training was better
suited to the times.
To return to the theme of interdisciplinarity, one lesson I learned from
my journey among the Germans is that scholars need to be aware of
different disciplinary idioms rather than identifying a single language,
such as the language of law in the mid-twentieth-century United States,
and assuming this language exhausts the contributions of a discipline--in this case how "the law" was imagined,
discussed, and fought over. They might also look in different places:
much of this law talk about the American state took place on German
soil.