According to Canadian political philosopher George Grant, modern progressives believe the human essence is freedom, achieved in a universal society or “global community,” making all “local cultures,” such as nation-states, redundant at best and repressive at worst.1 In the Politics, Aristotle argues that the human being “is by nature a political animal” whose home is in the polis.2 He defines the citizen of the polis as someone who participates in the regime. Although acknowledging the common view that citizenship derives from birth, Aristotle argues that those who first establish the polis are not citizens by birth; therefore, we must recognize that citizenship is not simply derivative of birth but also of the ability to participate in the regime. Yet, can the regime and the polis over which it rules be extended beyond a finite group of citizens to include all persons capable of citizenship? Are scholars such as Mary Dietz, Michael Wineman and Martha Nussbaum correct to see in Aristotle’s understanding of nature an unstable polis without fixed boundaries, suggesting that the citizens of the most complete regime see themselves as a global citizen of the world?3
Aristotle would thus caution against attempts to establish a universal regime. Rather, Aristotle’s concept of nature suggests a plurality of poleis in which distinct citizen bodies develop unique understandings of beauty, goodness, and justice. Such understandings make pursuit of the noble possible and allow human beings to fulfil their political nature and, thus, attain their highest good.
The citizen
In Book 1 of the Politics, Aristotle argues that the polis, “coming into being for the sake of living […] [but] exist[ing] for the sake of living well,” is “among the things that exist by nature.”4 This means, according to Aristotle, that the human being “is by nature a political animal” whose natural home is in the polis.5 Citizenship is thus natural to us and necessary if we are to achieve the good life, our highest human end. Aristotle enquires into the nature of the citizen at the beginning of Book 3. Noting that citizenship is often relative to the regime and that citizens of one type of regime often do not qualify as citizens of another type, Aristotle says he is “seeking the citizen in an unqualified sense.”6 Aristotle first defines the citizen in an unqualified sense as a person who shares “in decision” and “indefinite office,” the latter understood as that of juror and assemblyman, those, according to Aristotle, “with greatest authority” in the polis.7 The citizen, in other words, is someone who participates in rule through serving on juries and voting in assemblies, or the way the many actually participate in decision-making and hence the regime. Aristotle, however, acknowledges that his definition of the citizen is of someone, “above all in a democracy; he may, but will not necessarily be, a citizen in the other [regimes].”8 Democracy, therefore, seems to have the most citizens, or to be the most political or public of regimes. In some regimes, according to Aristotle, “there is no people,” as it were, as the majority, bereft of all political rights, is excluded from citizenship altogether if citizenship is defined as participation in rule; hence, there is no public or political sphere at all.9
Aristotle, to take in more regimes, proceeds to a second definition of citizenship that would be more inclusive. Therefore, a citizen is now said to be “[w]hoever is entitled to participate in an office involving deliberation or decision.”10 Thus, whoever the regime allows to participate in rule and political decision-making in any way can be considered a citizen.11 Who qualifies as a citizen, therefore, can change with the regime, and, as the regime changes, the citizen body can either increase or decrease.
It is important to note in this discussion thus far that Aristotle has given two definitions of the citizen that makes citizenship derivative of the regime; different regimes allow different kinds and numbers of people to participate in rule, with the democratic regime allowing all to participate in rule, therefore containing the most citizens. Aristotle acknowledges, however, that this is not the common view of what makes a citizen a citizen. Rather, according to Aristotle, “[a]s a matter of usage, […] a citizen is defined as a person from parents who are both citizens, and not just one, whether the father or the mother; and some go even further back, seeking two or three or more [generations of citizen] forbears.”12 In the customary view, therefore, citizenship is based on birth or ancestry; it is determined by blood or biology, not the regime. The suggestion here is that the identity of the polis is in its biology and is determined by its past, despite any changes of its regime that may occur. Thus, even if the city experiences a regime change from democracy to tyranny, there is no contraction in its citizen body. The identity of the city and its citizens, in other words, is based in body and, thus, has a certain freedom from its regime or governing institutions.
Aristotle, however, immediately points to the problem of basing citizenship on birth by asking about the founders or first inhabitants of the polis. Aristotle thus argues:
[S]ome raise the question of how that third or fourth [generation ancestor] will have been a citizen […] If they shared in the regime according to the definition that has been given [—i.e. “sharing in decision and [indefinite] office”—] they were citizens; for at any rate, it is impossible that the definition from citizen father or mother should fit in the case of the first inhabitants or founders.13
The founders or first inhabitants of the polis, in other words, were not citizens by birth, and thus we must look to another principle other than birth that allowed them to be citizens. According to Aristotle, we must go back to the original definition; founders or first immigrants can be considered citizens because they participated in rule or political decision-making. We must recognize, therefore, that citizenship is not simply derivative of birth but also of participation in the regime.
The regime-based character of citizenship is further emphasized when Aristotle enquires whether a city changes when the regime changes and whether the city owes the debts of past regimes.14 Does the regime give the city its identity or not? Aristotle indicates that when a city experiences regime change from an oligarchy or tyranny to a democracy, the customary opinion is that city does not owe the debts contracted by the oligarchs or the tyrant.15 Two reasons are given: first, the people did not consent to the tyrant’s actions, which were not taken for the common good.16 Second, (implied) is that the regime gives the city its identity; the city changes along with the regime, so the city under the new democratic regime is not the same city as that under the tyranny. Aristotle, therefore, subtly indicates that there is an inconsistency in customary opinion that is trying to have it both ways. With respect to citizenship, customary opinion asserts that it is based on birth or ancestry—biology gives the city its identity. With respect to regime change from tyranny to democracy—it insists that the city does not owe the debts of past tyrants because the regime gives the city its identity; the “slate is wiped clean,” as it were, with the new democratic regime.
Aristotle then raises the question of the debts contracted by a democratic regime itself.17 Do future generations within a democracy need to make reparations for the injustices of previous generations in the same democracy? Does the city change with the passage of time and the birth and death of human beings, or does it stay the same if the regime stays the same?18 Here, Aristotle is addressing not regime change but generational change.
To both questions, 1) if the regime changes from tyranny to democracy, does the city owe the debts of the past regime, and 2) do future generations owe the debts of past generations, when the regime stays the same, Aristotle indicates his answer when he says:
At any rate, just as we assert that a chorus which is at one time comic and at another tragic is different even though the human beings in it are often the same, it is similar with any other partnership and any compound, when the compound takes a different form […] If this is indeed the case, it is evident that it is looking to the regime above all that the city must be said to be the same.19
In this passage Aristotle posits an analogy between actors in the chorus and the city, and between the script of the chorus and the regime. He then suggests two possibilities: 1) If the actors stay the same, but the script changes from comic to tragic, the chorus changes. So, if the people stay the same (the same generation) but the regime changes, the city changes because as the script gives identity to the chorus, so the regime gives identity to the city. 2) If the actors change, but the script—either comic or tragic—stays the same, the chorus stays the same. So, if the people change (generational change) but the regime stays the same, the city remains the same. Again, as the script gives identity to the chorus, so the regime gives identity to the city. So, for Aristotle, if the regime changes, does the city owe the debts of the past regime? No, the city has changed. If the regime stays the same but the generations change, do future generations owe the debts of past generations? Yes, the city is the same. The regime gives identity to the city, and citizenship, therefore, is derived from the regime or the ability to participate in rule.