Our previous discussion on the capital-owning bourgeoisie as reducing all values to the economic sphere generated an important question. If we are pursuing values beyond the economic, how can a class be established with the incentive to pursue them? Though many groups have preserved the traditions of such values—including many families of the old aristocracy—the era where they formed a ruling body in the West has gone. Restoration is not only the preservation of values, but their rebirth in the social order. This requires that a class must rise with not only the ability to form such an order, but the incentives to maintain it. This piece will delve into what traits define a class able to act in this way. It will also consider several historical examples of such classes coming into being.
In most traditions of social order—those founded before the current era—there are two non-economic classes which stand out: warrior and priest. These remain strong points of reference, with religious bodies and the state still being the two most powerful forces with non-economically defined interests. The priest is dedicated to a particular hierarchy where wisdom and discipline within a spiritual tradition are the marks of excellence rather than advancement in worldly goods. The warrior does not improve his social station through profit, but by successful combat in wartime and wise statecraft in peace. Since the culture and interests of religious bodies are matters particular to religious traditions, this piece will focus on the latter group.
We will term this group the political class. This term is chosen for two reasons. First, it distinguishes them from the economic classes (those defined by ownership of capital and use of it in labor) and the spiritual class (those defined by religious vocation). Second, it is used in the sense of Carl Schmitt’s writings on the nature of the state. The core competency of the political class, theoretically, is the creation and maintenance of order. They must maintain the peace of the polity against internal and external threat. This requires them to be extremely competent at making a key distinction: that of friend and enemy. He notes in The Concept of the Political:
The friend and enemy concepts are to be understood in their concrete and existential sense, not as metaphors or symbols, not mixed and weakened by economic, moral, and other conceptions, least of all in a private-individualistic sense as a psychological expression of private emotions and tendencies[…]
The enemy is not merely any competitor or just any partner of a conflict in general. He is also not the private adversary whom one hates. An enemy exists only when, at least potentially, one fighting collectivity of people confronts a similar collectivity. The enemy is solely the public enemy, because everything that has a relationship to such a collectivity of men, particularly to a whole nation, becomes public by virtue of such a relationship. The enemy is hostis [public enemy], not inimicus [personal enemy] in the broader sense…In its entirety the state as an organized political entity decides for itself the friend-enemy distinction. […]
The endeavor of a normal state consists above all in assuring total peace within the state and its territory. To create tranquility, security, and order and thereby establish the normal situation is the prerequisite for legal norms to be valid. Every norm presupposes a normal situation, and no norm can be valid in an entirely abnormal situation.
This ability to declare hostis and compel the social order to exercise force is a defining feature of the political class. We can see that this applies to all states. Christian monarchs made such declaration against Islamic invaders, Communist worker-states against the great capital and landowners, and the American republic against enemies from Mexico to Iraq. This distinguishes the political class from the economic and religious classes in an important way. As Schmitt notes, the political class can compel members of the society to kill—and even more importantly, to die. The economic classes as such can use economic pressure, but do not possess this power, except insofar as they are also the political class. The religious class may possess the authority to define who the political class should declare hostis, but cannot compel it, unless they are among its number.
The next question to ask is what the incentives of the political class are. We can begin with the trivial statement that its interest is the maintenance and expansion of its power. By extension, the interest of the class as a whole is to maintain its power for the long-term. In large and developed societies, the apparatus of the state operates as the institutional framework through which the class pursues this interest. Since those with wealth or power tend to be more risk averse, we can say that the political class has a bias towards achieving their ends through established methods. Generally, those who pursue disruptive, high-risk strategies to expand power are either trying to drastically elevate their status quickly, or have judged that the status-quo can no longer be relied on. In order to step in quickly and effectively if such scenarios become more likely, the political institutions must have the power to act correctively. A weak state will not be able to create or maintain the conditions necessary for the political class to maintain its position. Note that economic classes often has an interest to erode the state’s overall power. Therefore, we can isolate a unique incentive which defines the political class in power: maintaining the health and strength of the state.
Using these observations, let’s draw some conclusions about the political class of the United States government and its geopolitical order. First, it seems clear that the coherency of the overall USG structure continues to decline. Large segments of the official structure are in more or less open conflict with the executive branch. The State Department has been a major example of this. Various state and city governments have official policies of noncooperation with the federal structures. Although many parts of USG have seen massive expansions of power—particularly homeland security—this has come at the cost of maintaining overall coherence and integration. In lieu of health and strength, USG seems to grow schizophrenic and frail. It also seems that those involved with state structures are not able to restore this coherency, even if they might wish to. Increasing numbers of resources are needed to return smaller victories. This is especially true in elected branches of the structure, and anywhere else where the news cycle directly impacts decision-making. Those in control of media power micro-target segments of the population to weaponize them against political opponents. The erosion of institutions has resulted in a political class unable to pursue its interests in any coordinated way.
In order to achieve Restoration, USG requires a political class which can act in a coordinated and long-term manner. If the existing institutions are not able to provide these incentives, then it seems that this will occur only with a state of affairs arising that allows for drastic levels of restructuring. Schmitt terms such a suspension of norms a “state of exception”. Were such a situation to arise, that segment of the political class able to create and normalize a new structure would prove itself to have won sovereignty. In the current order, no existing faction seems to have this ability. If this is so, we can conclude that sovereignty has become so dispersed that USG cannot be considered a unified body in any practical sense. We are not dealing with one unified political class of USG, but in fact multiple competing political classes of USG sub-structures. The situation is made more difficult insofar as many structures are partially or fully in thrall to economic interests. In some cases, the political classes of nominally separate countries even exercise control. An obvious example is the influence of Israeli and Saudi proxy organizations in policy-making.
In that case, our interest is in creating a political class which can rule the American order in a coherent and unified way. So, how do new political classes come into being? This has in fact occurred regularly throughout history, and there numerous examples which we can draw on. While political classes could theoretically arise in a large number of ways, one can see three major situations where such a class can establish itself and its regime. These are the conquest of an existing regime by another, the overthrow of such conquerors by local actors, and the displacement of one regime by another within a given territory.
First, the situation of conquest. In the English world, the most famous example of this is the regime of William, Duke of Normandy. Ties to the Conqueror have characterized nearly every English dynasty since the establishment of Norman rule in Britain. One component of this regime was of course the Norman aristocracy of the sword which had made the conquest possible. Wealth and land were expropriated from the English aristocracy. However, many of the institutions established by the former English political class were maintained, such as the system of shires. Eventually, the intermarriage of Normans and Anglo-Saxons established a political class that was tied to England by blood and heritage as well as conquest.
A second example is the regime established by the Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II following his conquest of Constantinople. Like William, he took over several existing institutions for use by the Ottoman regime—chief of these was his claim of the title of Caesar, a claim recognized by the Byzantine church under his rule. However, unlike the Normans, his regime also maintained a degree of autonomy for conquered groups under the Millet system. A final example is the British Empire, which established colonial regimes in a number of regions across Africa and Asia. Like the Ottomans, the British regimes generally depended on the cooperation of a number of local elites to suppress hostile ones. However, the British political class of these regimes was often smaller, and so we could speak of the conquering political class ruling via a number of local and subject political classes.
The second situation is the successful capture of power by a local political class against a distant or conquering one. The first example we can draw on here is the establishment of the American republic. In this case, many of those who would take leading roles in rebellion were already powerful and influential. However, this power was restricted by that of the British political class to whom they were subject, through the persons of royal governors. Ultimately, segments of the colonial American political class were able to take military action and—with the tacit support of segments of the British government—establish a fully independent regime. Here we see more drastic institutional shifts to a republican regime, which was likely possible because ethnic and cultural norms were not disrupted. A much more recent example is the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Founded from the start on the desire for a sovereign Chinese regime—along with the Kuomintang (KMT)—it took power through victory in war. Ironically, the political class of the People’s Republic is in many ways a red aristocracy of the sword. The strong sense of national mission in the CCP and KMT allowed them to pause their own conflict to prosecute a liberation war against Japanese imperialism. Following this, Mao led the battle-hardened communists in a strategic war combining soft-power infiltration in urban areas with military offensives elsewhere. Exploiting widely perceived corruption in the KMT, he established the PRC in 1948. Its supremacy is uncontested on any significant level—particularly with the rapid development of the country following Deng’s reforms—and its political class holds power to this day.
The final situation is the development of a political class within an existing polity, which successfully displaces the existing class. This usually happens when new factions develop in the existing class, or when enough of it defects to a new actor. One example of this is Napoleon’s taking of power in France. His capture of power through a coup was possible because of a republican structure too weak to prevent his desertion from Egypt to actively campaign in France. Operating through both personal intelligence and charisma, as well as political acumen, he built his regime through strong incentives to cooperation. His policies ensured the cooperation of large segments of the church, the military, the business classes, and—before his conquests—foreign governments. This allowed him to establish the stability needed to pass more significant reforms, some of which last to the current day.
In this strategy, there are parallels between him and Mussolini. Like Napoleon, Mussolini rose to prominence through both his own personal strengths and an ability to incentivize cooperation. The promise of economic order, political rebirth, and a front against communism eventually brought him royal sanction. A final example less dependent on any single man was the taking of power by the Bolsheviks. In this case, segments of the establishment had already destabilized the state by removing the Tsar. This allowed the strongly centralized and disciplined Bolsheviks to take advantage of political and military opportunities. Once in power, they were also able to disrupt huge segments of the old order and establish their own Soviet institutions.
The next question to ask is: which of these does America and its world order bear the most similarity to? China and Russia are the only powers which can truly confront America on something approaching the same level. Neither political class seems set on conquest; few, if any, favoring change within the American world order would desire it. Being a global power, it is also difficult to say that America has any foreign actors to throw off. One might propose that the Trump coalition represents a local attempt to try and remove a cosmopolitan and borderless political class. However, the fact remains that this class depends on American might and many of them are born and bred in American society. The involvement of certain foreign or borderless groups within the political class doesn’t undermine that fact.
Therefore, the emergence of a new political class in America would most closely resemble the third situation. This means we should imagine either a powerful actor convincing the defection of key current stakeholders, or else an organization strong and coordinated enough to overpower surrounding chaos. Of course, a combination of the two is also possible. In a structure as large as the American one, the cooperation of large segments of the structure would be necessary for restructuring. Of our three examples above, only Napoleon operated within an advanced and long-established structure (developed under both royal and republican regimes). As the current administration is finding, even simple actions like tax or abolition of a policy become drains of political energy if strong institutional resistance occurs. External threats often spur cooperation—in Bolshevik Russia, the threat and then fact of German aggression played this role. Nevertheless, such cooperation is only useful if a high degree of quality exists in the membership. Napoleon’s personal charisma often disguises the fact that he was adept at promoting talented individuals in the ranks of civil and military power. An equivalent example of the time is the growth of Prussian power—spurred by institutions such as its Great General Staff—to the point where it was eventually able to unite the many German polities into a single Empire. This means that any formal organization must discriminate in favor of quality, even against those who nominally hold the same aims.
There is a final piece to consider in this puzzle. The type of organization which we are considering does not begin as a state per se. Since we identified the incentive of the political class as “the health and strength of the state”, what is the incentive of such a class in embryonic form? Recall that the health and strength of the state is an incentive because these institutions are the normal ruling mechanisms of the political class. In embryonic stage, the class does not yet rule. Nevertheless, both formal and informal institutions develop among the class-in-formation. Napoleon drew on a network of allies and the institutions of state and military. The Bolsheviks had a much more organized and centralized party structure which could begin to exercise power as they captured it.
In relation to the state, existing institutions either assist or impede the rise of the new political class. When they assist, the incentive is to preserve or strengthen them and the incentive is essentially identical. But where they impede, the incentive is to disrupt. For this to occur, the organization must have the internal strength and coordination to project power. Disruption also places pressure on the embryonic class as it faces opposition and must be able to step into the vacuum. Thus, the incentive is the health and strength of the institutions which the embryonic political class is using to govern itself. In practice, successful organizations have undergone continual tests and crises which have made them resilient and able to respond on increasing scales. It is helpful to view such organizations as states in exile. The incentives are analogous to each other, merging as the new political class assumes full sovereign power. There is also an analogous relationship to the declaration of hostis. Such organizations—indeed, even modern political parties—generally name those they consider political adversaries and who are targeted when they attain power.
Having discerned these traits, we want to answer the question of how a political class can be formed. It seems obvious that no outside force can form a political class. Such a class self-selects. This observation is implicit in the mission of “becoming worthy”. However, the process of development can be done in better and worse ways. A political organization which binds itself to a particular economic patron has already failed to identify its class interest or how to pursue it. We desire the creation of a political class which is self-aware of that interest and wise in pursuing it. Its long-term goal is the ability to shape the political order, and to claim the ultimate sovereign power of declaring hostis. This process will require the capture or disruption of existing institutions—in the case of America, with the goal of defections rather than conquest or liberation conflicts. This entails the creation of organizational institutions with the power to actually capture or disrupt. For this to occur, the organizational competence and coherence will need to be markedly better than what currently exists. A state-in-exile only exists as the instruments of power used by those who make up the embryonic political class. This is the first part of our answer, but by itself it remains trivial.
The crux of what makes a political class also brings us beyond the usefulness of class analysis. The men of an embryonic political class of men of a particular type. Were they concerned with power for its own sake, they would generally enter established institutions. Since they have not done so, the taking of power is generally a means to an end. That end—the unifying vision of the embryonic class—is the foundation on which all else rests. The power of a vision to command belief and devotion will incentivize cooperation and sacrifice for the organization. In the Chinese case, the vision was powerful enough to motivate a pause between bitter enemies in order to fight a larger conflict. The nature of the vision determines what caliber and personality of man are attracted to it. Both Bonaparte’s charismatic image as “world spirit on horseback” (paraphrasing Hegel) and the Bolshevik claim to be agents of a grand historical telos are examples of such visions. The vision and its inherent values also determine which institutions are sought after or targeted for disruption.
A political class comes into being insofar as men pursue the shaping of society at the cost of economic advancement. While political classes obviously tend to accrue wealth, they are defined by doing so insofar as it does not undermine the health and strength of the state. When this is sacrificed for economic gain, the distinction between political versus economic interests is no longer very useful. While the political consciousness of the class exists, they judge economic concerns by their relation to political concerns. In other words, they operate on values beyond the economic. Insofar as political classes often possess wealth, the acid test is whether their vision remains strong enough to ensure that they will make economic sacrifices without direct economic returns. As noted in a previous piece, this expenditure is the concrete demonstration that a political class in the proper sense exists. It is no accident that this expenditure is what results in what we consider the hallmarks of high civilization: cathedrals, art, sacred games, philosophical libraries, and the like.
If a political order is to be maintained, then doing so must be in the incentive structure of its members. As long as members of this class—even operating on the margin—gain the benefits of status and advancement by making such sacrifices, the culture of the political class remains healthy. We can remember the willingness of Roman aristocratic sons to fight and die for their state. Once there is overwhelming incentive to defect, the culture has corroded to a significant degree. This means that a political class must work to build its own cultural and organizational institutions. This can even occur on a cooperative level, as in Christian Europe where the children of rulers interacted with their counterparts from across many realms. What unified all of them was their integration into a culture where their status depended on success in statecraft, expenditure, and war. This internal culture ensures the continuity of non-economic values in such a way that future generations continue to act on them.
The political class is formed by a meeting point of three things: common vision, men predisposed toward embracing such vision, and the institutional developments which connect the two. Each of these is a topic far beyond covering in depth at the end of this piece. Nevertheless, the concepts which we have covered provide important tools for analyzing existing and potential political classes. They also let us know whether a political organization or party is serious or not. It is safe to say that a party without the intention to become capable of declaring hostis is fundamentally unserious. An organization not actively creating the value to affect elite cooperation is not on the path to victory. It also contains a valuable lesson for the failure of political conservatism in the Anglosphere. The myriad “traditionalist” or “conservative” organizations in thrall to market actors or GDP maximization rank well below the Communist Party in their dedication to values beyond the economic.
In order to avoid such failure modes, the onus to become worthy lies on all three components: vision, men, and institutions. The convergence of a worthy three is indeed a rare thing. But the reactionary tradition has long recognized this fact. Let us consider the words of Charles Maurras:
…if methodical and persistent efforts for long ages, almost divine inventions, are necessary to build a city, erect a State, establish a civilisation, there is nothing easier than to undo these fragile formations. A few tons of vile powder knocks down half of the Pantheon; a colony of microbes decimates the population of Athens, three or four base ideas systematised by fools have succeeded…to render useless a thousand years of French history.