This article deals with the possibility of ascribing passions to states in Thomas Hobbes's political theory. According to Hobbes, the condition of sovereign states vis-à-vis one another is comparable to that of individuals in the state of nature, namely, a state of war. Consequently, the three causes of war (competition, diffidence, and glory) identified in chapter 13 of Leviathan could also be relevant to interstate relations. Since these war triggers are mainly passions, one could presume that state action is motivated by passions as well. Some argue that it is just a figurative way of speaking. Others claim that the passions of war affect only sovereign rulers. I explore an alternative answer based on the ability of sovereigns to direct the preexisting passions of their people.

The article introduces the second part of a symposium, “The Crowd in the History of Political Thought,” which is being published as a two-part special issue, and which explores visions of the role of the people and populism in the writings of past thinkers. The articles in this second part are by European scholars with disparate interests and approaches to the history of political thought. Populism proves difficult to define, partly because populist politicians evince different understandings of “the people” and the purpose of government. The liberal, democratic, and national visions of “the people” can be harmonious but can also become disharmonious. Untangling them by exploring how thinkers in the history of political thought distinguished between crowds and peoples can help us to better understand the ideological dynamics of our moment. Articles on Hobbes and Spinoza offer disparate accounts of the differences between peoples and crowds. Herder, by contrast, helps us understand the political self-determination of peoples, while Schmitt and Arendt offer rival visions of the tensions between democratic and liberal principles.

The article introduces a symposium, “The Crowd in the History of Political Thought,” which is being published as a two-part special issue. The articles are by American and European scholars with disparate interests and approaches to the history of political thought. Some engage contemporary questions, while others offer interpretive analyses. Today, commentators, scholars, and pundits alike ignore the history of political thought to the detriment of their understanding of populism. Many thinkers have reflected on democratic health and sickness. The articles here furnish a partial catalog of the quarrels associated with this inherited vocabulary. The tradition itself is best conceived of as an unfinished Socratic conversation. In this issue, articles on Thucydides, Aristophanes, Plato, and Aristotle orbit the original democracy at Athens, the backdrop for reflections on popular rule of so many thinkers. The final article on Josephus moves away from the experience of the Greek polis toward the more contemporary preoccupations of the second issue.

Readers have found at least two distinct and perhaps contradictory accounts of civil authority in the works of Francisco de Vitoria, and some hold that Vitoria himself holds contradictory positions. This article argues that Vitoria holds one consistent position, namely, that civil power is based on a necessity that is rooted in human nature, and in particular on the final cause of human life, and not on a necessity that is a result of any historical decision or process on its own. Rulers receive from the community their authority, which is a power to act on behalf of that community. Scholars have failed to consider how Vitoria's understanding of civil power is Aristotelian and Thomistic to the extent that it is based on the thesis that the political community is natural in a way similar to how families and individuals are natural.

This article examines the peculiar fusion of secular and religious temporal orders in Hobbes's Leviathan in light of the debate between Löwith and Blumenberg over the origins of modern time consciousness. The analysis places Hobbes more securely on the side of Blumenberg by uncovering the constructive agency at work in the anxiously future-preoccupied account of human nature which distinguishes Leviathan from Hobbes's earlier works and which gives his revision of Christian eschatology its psychological coherence and rhetorical force. This interpretation of Hobbes as an early architect of modern time consciousness fills in the missing temporal pieces in Blumenberg's own engagement with Hobbes and gives the theme of temporality—of creating and securing the experience of an open future above all—the attention that it deserves in the account of Hobbes's modernity.

Modern discussions of freedom focus on negative liberty or nondomination. In his portrait of the Athenian democracy, Thucydides thematizes the psychology of ancient freedom. By focusing on the psychology of the demos, Thucydides shows how democratic imperialism unfolds from the experience of freedom as a kind of felt power. His analysis offers us a way to think about contemporary populism. In representative democracy, the connection between power and freedom has been severed by representation and the modern state, but an experience of power nonetheless remains part of what we mean by freedom today. Modern citizens frequently feel powerless and so unfree, ensnared by impersonal forces. One lure of populism is that it satisfies the longing for freedom as a form of felt power, for a measure of control over one's life.

Popular-vote processes — such as plebiscites, referendums, and initiatives — are frequently understood as Rousseauian instruments of popular sovereignty. Yet, Rousseau did not theorize these devices himself. As a result, he has been claimed by proponents of competing theories of popular-vote processes. Theorists of sleeping sovereignty have claimed Rousseau's distinction between sovereignty and government in support of rare, constitutional referendums. Theorists of direct democracy invoke Rousseau's criticism of representation to demand frequent referendums. Plebiscitarianism casts Rousseau's general will as demanding the unification of the nation in one popularly legitimated leader through top-down plebiscites. Lastly, Condorcet's proposal for the “censure of the people” outlines how the sovereign could initiate popular votes itself in order to check the power of the government. I contend that Condorcet's account provides the most compelling link between Rousseau's account of popular sovereignty and the institutional design of popular-vote processes.

This article reconstructs Hannah Arendt's theoretical arguments in relation to current authoritarian-populist crowds, which can be understood as organized mobs of the twenty-first century. Drawn from all classes and originating in societal and political disenfranchisement, in Arendt's understanding they are rebellious nihilists who falsely believe they represent the people as a whole while they exclude any citizens who do not share their tribal nationalism and leader worshiping. Illuminating conditions of their emergence, Arendt also helps to elucidate what drives the populist crowds’ illusions about an uncompromising “sovereign will” they and their leaders claim to embody. Such illusions benefit from broader modern trends eroding differences between facts, opinion, truth, and lies. In public environments suffering from destabilized factual truths, organized lies can easily fill a political vacuum generated by crises of political modernity. Unpacking interrelated theoretical trajectories, it is argued that an Arendtian framework can significantly contribute to the study of present-day authoritarian populism.

In this article I try to identify the nature of the Hobbesian Crowd Problem as a problem depending on the nature of the connection, or absence of connection, between the notions of “crowd” and “people.” When a crowd is considered as a “subjected crowd” it is but the flip side of a people, which is itself the other name of the sovereign. When considered as a gathering of people, the crowd's status depends on the intention of its members as well as the number of its participants, but also on whether it is authorized by the sovereign. Within the framework of his complex theory of associations (or “system subjects”), Hobbes's theory of crowds is a useful instrument for assessing what we now call “populism,” the claim by some citizens to speak for the whole political community.

This article interprets Michel Foucault as a thinker of political coalition. While Foucault is often associated with a localist “micro-politics,” he also sought to help dispersed struggles “generalize” themselves into bigger, cohesive movements. Foucault gave his fullest account of the politics of generalization in manuscripts and drafts associated with two courses at the Collège de France, entitled Security, Territory, Population (1978) and The Birth of Biopolitics (1979), which are well known to political theorists for their discussions of “governmentality.” Intellectual historians have recently generated controversy by proposing that Foucault used his governmentality lectures to flirt with neoliberal positions. By reconstructing Foucault's coalitional project in the late 1970s, this article offers an alternative contextualist account of his purposes, while encouraging political theorists to reappraise the lectures as the basis for a Foucauldian theory of large-scale alliance politics.

Aristophanes in his comedy the Acharnians educates the crowd that he creates as a character on stage, as well as the crowd gathered to watch his comedy, about what is truly in their interest: the peace that allows them to be happy by satisfying their longings for good food and frequent sex. I suggest, invoking the medieval language of vox populi vox dei, that Aristophanes (like the politicians and demagogues of today) competes to become the one who gives the people their voice. His comedy imagines that both the crowd in the play and the audience in the theater learn through the action of the comedy the value of peace for private happiness. The crowd so educated will give voice to Aristophanes's wisdom when they vote in their democratic assemblies about what seems best to the people.

Scholars have long contested James Madison's position on religious liberty. Madison believed in governmental noncognizance of religion. The dominant view, voiced by Vincent Muñoz, interprets that to mean that government should take no notice of religion either to target it or to allow religious objectors exemptions from neutral and generally applicable laws. While there is much to commend Muñoz's view, it fails to accurately convey Madison's position. Noncognizance, for Madison, meant not that government should not notice religion, but that it should assume no authority over it. Consequently, Madison believed government should not interfere with religious duties unless to achieve important ends via carefully tailored policies.

Transparency has become the constant refrain of democratic politics. However, executive branch officials consistently seek to insulate their activities from public scrutiny. A recurrent rationale presents secrecy as a necessary measure called for in circumstances in which the basic interests of the state are at stake. The purpose of this paper is to normatively assess the appeals to the necessity of executive secrecy in democratic governance. The paper fleshes out two ways in which the necessity argument has been framed. It argues that an appeal to necessity fails to confer political and/or legal authority on the state's resort to secrecy because necessity escapes normative codification both in the moral and legal domain (“necessity knows no law”). Drawing a distinction between legitimacy and vindication, it argues, however, that even though a state resorting to secrecy acts beyond its democratic authority, this action may be vindicated.

This article argues that through the reinterpretation of the old theory of pouvoir constituant proposed by Sieyès, Carl Schmitt shows the impossibility of political modernity being anything other than authoritarian populism, whether by means of democratic or autocratic procedures. It is not that Schmitt's theory is authoritarian populism, but that modern politics, born out of the French Revolution, cannot be anything else. Schmitt's analyses of the idea of the people in political modernity in Dictatorship (1921), The Crises of Parliamentary Democracy (1923), Volksentscheid und Volksbegehren (1927), Constitutional Theory (1928), and State, Movement, People (1933) provide a fine analysis of the populist character of modernity. Something that those alive in the twenty-first century have been able to experience was theorized by Schmitt in an oracular way. Because of his keen insight he is still worth reading.

Plato's antipathy to crowds is a commonplace that reinforces a prevailing portrait of the Socratic method as a practice that centers on individuals, to the exclusion of crowds and the many. This canonical view, however, comes into tension with the tendency of Plato's Socrates to conduct his dialogues in the presence of collective audiences. I argue that Plato's position on crowds is at once more complex and more ambivalent than has been commonly accepted. I distinguish between two distinct lines of critique that Plato develops against crowds: the argument that the incentive structures that move crowds are unconducive to philosophy; and a more ambiguous argument that crowds tend not to be as amenable to control as their portrayal in the Athenian democratic imaginary seems to promise. Plato's depiction of Socratic practice can be understood as an effort to explore an alternative vision of crowd control.

Populism has lately become a matter of concern in both popular and academic circles. Yet contemporary writers have had difficulty parsing populism's relationship to democracy, partly because they are universally committed to the latter. It is worth turning to a thinker like Aristotle, who—despite not explicitly addressing populism itself—is able to reflect clearly on various democratic phenomena that we tend to consider populist, because he does not share our normative or analytical assumptions about democracy. Aristotle's discussions in books 3 and 4 of the Politics allow us to see that what we call populism is a function of a broader problem of class conflict in democracies. In light of this analysis, we can see populist movements not as an external challenge to the democratic regime, but rather as a characteristic expression of a recurring dispute over the contours and prerogatives of the people.

Recent studies have argued that Herder supported cultural, rather than national, self-determination. While Herder did not argue that all nations should become states, using the term “cultural” as the defining element of his conception of self-determination risks the false impression that political self-determination is not part of it. Focusing on Herder's discussion of the relationship between the people and the state in modern European “state-machines” and his comments on the French revolution, this article shows that Herder encouraged the national “self-constitution” of both subjugated and dominant peoples, thus contributing to the rise of the concept of self-determination of peoples. Rejecting direct popular rule as a “phantom of liberty,” he envisioned modern self-determination to be a continuous process of free public deliberation in print media and representative institutions on the possible reform of the constitution of one's political community, as guided by the public's evolving understanding of the principles of Humanität.