Similarly, in the United States, the Monroe Doctrine (1823) went from a categorical non-interventionism (principle of neutrality) to a moral position giving the United States an unlimited right to interfere. ‘The principle of non-intervention and rejection of foreign powers’, writes Carl Schmitt, ‘has evolved into a justification for US imperialist interventions.’
Civilisational states oppose Western universalism with a model in which each civilisational grouping has a distinct identity, both in terms of cultural values and political institutions, an identity that cannot be reduced to any universal model. These states do not only want to implement a sovereign policy without submitting to the dictates of supranational elites. They also want to thwart any ‘globalist’ project aimed at making the same principles reign over the whole planet because they are aware that the culture they carry is not identical to any other. This is a reminder that there can be no culture of all cultures.
Whether ruled by a new tsar, a new emperor, a new caliph, whether this rejection is in the name of the Confucian notion of ‘harmony’, the heritage of ‘holy Russia’ (‘Moscow, the Third Rome’), Eurasianism, Hinduism or the memory of the caliphate, civilisational states refuse to submit to Western standards, which some of them had accepted in the past in order to ‘modernise’ themselves. Westernisation and modernisation no longer automatically go hand in hand.
The Russian philosopher Konstantin Krylov (1967–2020), in his posthumous book Povedenie (‘Behaviour’), published in 2021, describes Russia as a country that has been alien to liberal thinking since its origins. He rejects liberalism but not democracy. Although he became a Zoroastrian during a stay in Uzbekistan, he also stresses the importance of the Orthodox religion. Paul Grenier, who runs the Simone Weil Center for Political Philosophy in the US and recently wrote an essay on him, writes: ‘I don’t know of any conservative Russian intellectuals for whom Russia is part of Western civilization. All of them see in it something separate and different.’ (3) This was already the opinion of Nikolai Danilevsky and Oswald Spengler, who emphasised the specificity of Russian social behaviour and ethical precepts, starting with ‘ourness’ (in Russian, we do not say ‘my brother and I went for a walk’ but ‘we and my brother went for a walk’).
To the liberal system based on the search for one’s best interest (self-interest), Russia opposes the prerogatives of the sacred, which it refuses to see relegated to the private sphere, while rejecting the neutrality of the state in matters of values. It is therefore understandable that in Ukraine, Russia not only defends the idea that this country cannot become a nation-state because it belongs to the Slavic civilisational space but also fights against the logic of the nation-state itself, the proponents of a purely secular vision of the world, the liberal values of the ‘collective West’, which are perceived as ‘decadent’, and the American hegemonism backed by the liberal system.
The main representatives of this school were philosophers, such as Kōsaka Masaaki, Kōyama Iwao, Nishitani Keiji and Suzuki Shigetaka. The European thinkers who seem to have had the most significant impact on them were Johann Gottfried von Herder and Leopold von Ranke. In recent times, the ideas of the Kyōto School have also been linked to those of communitarian writers such as Charles Taylor and Alasdair MacIntyre. (4) It was in this circle that the idea of a ‘sphere of co-prosperity of the greater East Asia’ was elaborated, bringing together several countries based on shared values and respect for their autonomy. This idea should not be confused with the ‘Japanocentrism’ of the nationalist Right or with Japanese imperialism of the same era. As early as June 1943, official censorship ordered silence on the school’s publications, precisely reproaching it for wanting to assign to the Japanese government a mission that was not identical to mere imperialist expansion.
Its theorists refer to the central notion of tianxia (‘all under heaven’) (5), a spiritual principle of premodern China whose institutional body was the Celestial Empire. This polysemic term, used since before the time of Laozi and Confucius, refers to an ideal civilisational order, a spatial imaginary in which China constitutes the core, a hierarchised order in which the ‘virtue’ of its members determines the place they must occupy, and a political system meant to guarantee the harmony of the whole. According to Zhao Tingyang, it is a ‘dense concept, where metaphysics as political philosophy replaces metaphysics as ontology as the first philosophy’, (6) which asserts that cultures are incomparable in terms of values and that China must escape from Eurocentrism and fully assume its role as the Middle Kingdom.
For Xu Jilin, ‘the origin of the [current] crisis is nothing but the mentality that gives absolute supremacy to the nation’. ‘To really deal with the root of the problem’, he adds, ‘we need a form of thinking that can serve as a counterpoint to nationalism. I call this thinking the “new tianxia“, a pearl of axial civilisational wisdom from China’s premodern tradition, reinterpreted according to modern criteria.’
The way in which, since the 1990s, the Chinese authorities, claiming to have ‘Asian values’, have rejected criticism in the name of the human rights ideology is significant. In January 2021, at the Davos Forum, Xi Jinping said,
‘Just as no two leaves in the world are the same, no two histories, no two cultures, no two social systems are the same. Each country is unique in all these areas, and no country is superior to another. There is no need to worry about differences, but rather … about attempts to impose a hierarchy between civilisations or to force some of them to align themselves with another in terms of history, culture or social system.’
Liberals always claim to ‘defend civilisation’, which, in their eyes, equates to the logic of individual rights and the market. To them, civilisation must be understood in the singular, and it is liberal democracies that embody it. Anyone who deviates from it is no longer part of the ‘civilised world’, and those who refuse to comply with this model are immediately delegitimised and denounced as ‘authoritarian powers’ and antidemocratic, as if liberal democracy were the only possible form of democracy. This idea of a singular civilisation legitimized colonisation in the past before inspiring the speculations of a Fukuyama on the ‘end of history’ in a world purged of all power relations. For civilisational states, on the contrary, civilisations (or cultures) are only conceived in the plural. Civilisational states do not defend ‘civilisation’ itself but their civilization.
The notion of the civilisational state is even more reminiscent of the ‘great space’ (Großraum) theorised by Carl Schmitt to rethink international relations beyond the codification of relations between nation-states. A ‘great space’, Schmitt says, requires a ‘great people’, a vast territory and an autonomous political will. ‘Empires’, he writes, ‘are those ruling powers that carry a political idea radiating out into a determined great space from which they exclude, as a matter of principle, the interventions of foreign powers.’ And he adds this essential reminder: ‘The empire is more than an enlarged state, just as the great space is not just an enlarged micro-space.’ ‘The logic of great spaces does not have a universalist scope. It only integrates the historical evolution of the great territorial powers influencing third countries. The paradigm is therefore no longer national, but spatial.’ (8)
Footnotes(1) Trans.: La laïcité is a French concept that advocates for the separation of religion and state, ensuring equal treatment and freedom of belief for all individuals.
(2) Christopher Coker, The Rise of the Civilizational State. London: Polity, 2019.
(3) ‘Konstantin Krylov’s Ethical Theory and What It Reveals about the Propensity for Conflict between Russia and the West’, in Telos 201 (Winter 2022), p. 112.
(4) Kenn Steffensen, ‘The Political Thought of the Kyoto School’, in Michiko Yusa (ed.), The Bloomsbury Research Handbook of Contemporary Japanese Philosophy, New York: Bloomsbury, 2017. See also John W. M. Krummel, ‘The Kyoto School’s Wartime Philosophy of a Multipolar World’, in Telos 201 (Winter 2022), pp. 63-83.
(5) Tianxia is said to have reached its golden age at the time of the Duke of Zhou, a military leader and writer who lived in the 11th century BC and is sometimes presented as the founder of Confucianism, although he lived several centuries before Confucius.
(6) ‘La philosophie du tianxia’, in Diogène, 2008, 1, pp. 4-25. See also Zhao Tingyang, Tianxia, tout sous le même ciel [2016], Paris: Cerf, 2018.
(7) Amitav Acharya, The End of American World Order, Cambridge: Polity, 2014; Oliver Stuenkel, Post-Western World: How Emerging Powers Are Remaking Global Order, Cambridge: Polity, 2016. See also Martin Jacques, When China Rules the World: The End of the Western World and the Birth of a New Global Order, New York: Penguin Press, 2009; Charles Horner, Rising China and Its Postmodern Fate, Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2009.
(8) Karl Peyrade, ‘Le droit des peuples réglé sur le grand espace de Carl Schmitt’, online text, 23 May 2017.
Carl Schmitt (1940) - Großraum gegen Universalismus. (Great Space vs. Universalism.)























