The Genesis of Social-Philosophical Thought

Social-Philosophical Views of Thinkers in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance

The dependence of social philosophy on religion during the medieval period (2nd to 15th centuries) was influenced by several circumstances. First and foremost, the nature of religion itself underwent a significant transformation. The ancient belief in polytheism, which allowed a degree of spiritual autonomy for individuals to choose their deities for worship, gradually gave way to monotheism, dictating a set of "truths" regarded as the only correct beliefs. In the Roman Empire, Christianity emerged as this singular faith, formally recognized as the state religion by Emperor Constantine in 324 AD. The position of Christianity was further solidified after the fall of Rome, when, amidst a profound cultural crisis, the Christian Church became the only social institution that maintained a connection to the heritage of antiquity and the capacity to generate spiritual values.

Christianity's role also grew in the context of the emergence and development of feudalism, founded on a natural agrarian mode of economy. During this time, the influence of cities diminished, trade waned, and socio-economic ties between different parts of the country weakened, creating favorable conditions for political fragmentation. For a considerable period, Christianity resisted disintegration, uniting various social groups and entire nations on the basis of shared religious values. However, the influence of the Church was also manifested in the constriction of individual creative freedom, enforced by undeniable dogmas whose observance was guaranteed not only by the power of preaching but also by persecution and the physical destruction of dissenters. Nevertheless, within these narrow religious confines, an intense philosophical reflection on social issues occurred, giving rise to profound and intriguing ideas.

The first stage in the history of social-philosophical thought during the Middle Ages is associated with the works of the "Fathers of the Church," aimed at philosophically justifying Christianity (e.g., John Chrysostom, Saint Paul, Gregory of Nyssa, Augustine of Hippo, etc.). Among these, Augustine of Hippo (354—430)—a bishop in Hippo (North Africa), theologian, and politician—exerted the most significant influence on subsequent centuries. He reinterpreted Plato's concept of ideas within a Christian framework, viewing them as the Creator's thoughts prior to the act of creation. God, who created the world, also invented time as a measure of movement, the change of all things, which inevitably leads to their demise. God Himself is beyond time, embodying immutable eternity. The unfolding of these overarching principles of understanding the foundation of the universe led to different views on the history of society than those of antiquity. The development of humanity was envisioned as subject to divine design and oriented toward an impending end of the world, characterized by six distinct epochs: 1) infancy—from Adam to the Flood; 2) childhood—from Noah to the patriarch of the Jews, Abraham; 3) adolescence—from Abraham to King David; 4) youth—from David to the Babylonian captivity; 5) adulthood—from the Babylonian captivity to Christ; and 6) old age, commencing from Christ and culminating with the end of the world.

As a key to understanding the internal logic of divine will governing history, Augustine proposed the idea of the conflict between two cities: the heavenly and the earthly. The first city consists of those who live for the flesh, while the second comprises those who wish to live according to the spirit. Thus, "two cities are created by two kinds of love: the earthly—love of self, which culminates in contempt for God; and the heavenly—love of God, which leads to contempt for oneself." However, these cities do not manifest on earth in pure forms. While Augustine tends to view earthly states as "kingdoms of evil" or "great bands of robbers," he nonetheless adheres to the Christian postulate that "all authority is from God," as proclaimed by Saint Paul in his "Epistle to the Romans." Therefore, he asserts that, in real life, the heavenly and earthly cities are intertwined and will ultimately be separated only after the end of the world, at which time the citizens of the "divine city" will receive eternal bliss, while the citizens of the "earthly city" will be condemned to eternal torment. Overall, the historical process was characterized by a gradual overcoming of the forces of evil and the refinement of morality, with the recognition that the forces of the world, particularly strengthened by the establishment of the Christian Church, aimed to conquer the devil's world and convert all humanity to Christianity.

Thus, a linear-eschatological model of history was constructed, dismantling the ancient inclinations toward the idealization of the past and a cyclical perception of historical changes. Instead, it encouraged a reorientation toward the future, activating the individual in the pursuit of predetermined goals. However, this potential unfolding of Augustine's ideas was, of course, at odds with the religious aspect of his teaching, which drew fatalistic conclusions about the predetermined nature of every individual's life and the course of social history as dictated by divine providence. Religious dogmas also pushed towards the absolutization of historical necessity, ensuring unity "in Christ." In particular, to resolve this issue, violence was deemed permissible, which, according to the thinker, was not evil if applied with good intentions, thus justifying the actions of a father who punishes disobedient children or of God who inflicts suffering on sinners.

From the concept of the "two cities" logically flowed the prevalent notion during the Middle Ages of the "two swords," according to which society is governed by dual authority: the Church exercises spiritual power, while the state wields temporal authority. Responses to the relationship between these powers varied. Representatives of the ecclesiastical hierarchy (such as Pope Gregory VII and Pope Innocent III) argued for the subordinate status of the state in their works and encyclicals, claiming that initially all power, both "swords," was entrusted to the Church by Christ, and only later did the Church delegate one of them—symbolizing temporal authority—to kings and emperors, who thus were obliged to serve her. In turn, the ideologists of the state defended the thesis of the independence of the two powers from each other, citing the divine origin of state authority and Christ's reluctance to combine spiritual and temporal powers in a single hand.

This debate gave rise to "tyrannicide theories," which justified the rights of subjects to remove secular rulers who failed to adhere to the laws of religion and ecclesiastical canons. One such theorist was John of Salisbury (d. 1180), who, in his treatise "Policraticus," likened society and the state to the human body, where the head represents the prince, the heart the senate, the tongue and ears the judges, and the soul the priest. All parts are connected by divine laws that possess a universal nature and are owed to everyone—both the ruler and the subjects. If a ruler violates these laws and disregards the will of the clergy, he becomes a tyrant who usurps power and turns his people into slaves. In this case, subjects have the right to depose the tyrant, and even to kill him. By asserting the people as the guarantor of the fulfillment of divine laws, the medieval theologian, in this way, approaches views that closely resemble contractual ideas of the 17th and 18th centuries. Nevertheless, the positions of John of Salisbury and those of the theorists of the modern age are distinct. Firstly, the term "people" in medieval social-philosophical concepts generally referred not to the entire population but only to its chosen part—spiritual and secular feudal lords. Secondly, and more importantly, elements of philosophical-rational reasoning were subordinated to theology, evident in the interpretation of social and state laws as results of divine will manifested in religious revelations, rather than as rules of social coexistence discerned by human reason.

The pinnacle of medieval philosophy was represented by the works of Thomas Aquinas (1225—1274)—a Dominican monk and founder of Thomism, an influential religious-philosophical doctrine recognized as the only true philosophy of Catholicism in 1879 according to the encyclical of Pope Leo XIII. At the foundation of Thomism lies a revised philosophical concept of Aristotle, aligned with Catholic thought. In particular, based on Aristotle's idea of the unity of active form and passive matter, the structure of the universe was envisioned as a hierarchy of forms descending from the pure intellect of God to the spiritual substances of angels, and then from them to the souls of humans, finally descending to the material, corporeal world. In the relationships between forms existing at different levels, strict subordination operates, with lower forms being subordinate to higher ones. Simultaneously, in the entire universe, there are no "superfluous" forms, unnecessary beings, objects, or phenomena; each occupies a specific place ordained by divine providence, fulfilling certain functions that ensure the harmony of the whole. Accordingly, society emerges as a hierarchically organized integrity established by God, where subjects must obey their rulers, slaves must heed their masters, and everyone is bound to perform their labor: peasants and artisans must produce material goods, priests must conduct religious rituals and pray, and rulers must govern people's actions and direct them toward the common good.

Addressing the question of the tasks of secular authority, Aquinas somewhat echoed the ideas of "tyrannical resistance" concepts, defining the necessity of limiting the ruler's powers by laws that can be categorized as follows: 1) eternal laws of divine reason; 2) natural laws, reflecting God's prescriptions within human reason (the right to self-preservation and procreation); 3) human laws, encompassing existing customary law; 4) laws of revelation, as articulated in the Bible. Although the source of all legislation was ultimately seen as divine intent, the formulated principles concerning natural laws provided "hooks" for a humanistic reorientation of Aquinas's doctrine towards the respect and adherence to individual rights. However, within the framework of Catholic religious-philosophical worldview, this possibility was realized only in the 20th century during the development of the doctrine of neothomism.

Meanwhile, history did not "wait" for the time when the church would be capable of critically reflecting upon its own teachings. The monopoly of religious forms of understanding the world was disrupted much earlier, with the emergence of capitalist social relations that led to the rise of the national state and civil (bourgeois) society. The development of these forms heralded a qualitatively new level of human freedom, including in the spiritual sphere, where spiritual pluralism gradually strengthened and favorable conditions were created for the independent development of socio-philosophical concepts. The onset of spiritual emancipation coincided with the Renaissance (14th to 16th centuries), a period named for the awakening of mass interest in the culture of antiquity, manifesting in careful secular research and reconstruction of its achievements. It is essential to note that ancient spiritual values were not merely mechanically repeated; they were creatively reworked in the spirit of refuting religious conceptions and substantiating a new humanistic, "humanized" understanding of the cosmos. A defining characteristic of Renaissance social philosophy was anthropocentrism, according to which humanity was viewed not as a result or object of the divine craftsman's creative efforts but as an autonomous personality capable of producing the new and transforming both natural and social realms.

The formation of an anthropocentric vision of humanity was not an instantaneous act. In reality, it was a prolonged and contentious process of the secularization of consciousness, liberating it from the shackles of religious dogma. For instance, turning to the figure of Dante Alighieri (1265—1321), one of the early Italian humanists, we observe in his works (the poem "Divine Comedy," treatises "On the Banquet," "Monarchy") a curious, sometimes eclectic blend of theology and philosophy, intertwining religious and secular worldviews. The thinker does not reject the religious doctrine of God’s creation of all that exists, yet he is captivated by humanity as the greatest wonder of divine wisdom. Building on the idea of the dual nature of the human being, embodying both a mortal body and an immortal soul, he elaborates a concept concerning the significance of both the celestial and the real earthly life for humanity. Acknowledging the doctrine of the heavenly and earthly cities, he draws conclusions about the necessity of non-interference by religious organizations in state affairs, criticizing the Catholic Church for its divergence from the ideal representation of the forces of light.

The acute internal conflict between the recognition of the value of earthly joys and religious faith is reflected in the works of Francesco Petrarch (1304—1374), the Italian poet and moralist. In the dialogue "My Secret or The Book of Conversations on Contempt for the World," an imagined discussion unfolds between the writer and Augustine of Hippo, illuminating the clash of opposing ways of understanding the meaning of existence: the "earthly" (sensuous) and the "heavenly" (rational). In one of the conversations, Augustine deems the poet's love for the real earthly woman, Laura, as sinful and irrational. Urging him to abandon this love, he declares: “She has turned your soul away from love of celestial things and diverted your desires from the Creator to the creation, which is the most convenient path to death.” Petrarch endeavors to defend his feelings, asserting that love for Laura elevates him, providing the soul with the finest joys and prompting a love for God. The debate concludes without a clear resolution; while the writer seems to concede to the arguments of the "father of the Church," he acknowledges that he cannot overcome his earthly desires.

From such reflections emerged an important socio-philosophical idea that every individual possesses free will and bears personal responsibility for their actions. Thus, the precondition for the next step was forming the rejection of religious fatalism and the recognition of humanity as the creator of its own fate. This step was most clearly articulated in Giovanni Pico della Mirandola's treatise "On the Dignity of Man" (1463—1494), a humanist and representative of the Florentine Neoplatonists. In his view, humanity is not included in the hierarchy of forms of the cosmos, as determined by God, but rather represents an independent world, a "microcosm," which combines earthly substance (air, water, fire), animal (body and food), and celestial (capacity for knowledge). Consequently, humanity possesses the freedom to create its own "self," always open to the new and never able to exhaust the inner source of self-improvement.

The definitive rupture with theology was achieved by Niccolò Machiavelli (1469—1527), the Italian thinker and statesman, author of treatises such as "The Prince," "Discourses on the First Ten Books of Titus Livius," and "The History of Florence." In Machiavelli's teachings, in contrast to Christian eschatology, the historical development of humanity is portrayed as a perpetual cycle of events governed by Fortune: the birth of societies and states, their peak of power, and, ultimately, their decline. At the same time, historical changes are determined not solely by objective necessity; much depends on the "virtue," the intellectual and volitional qualities of individuals that shape their capacity for effective transformative activity. By studying the experiences of the past and the characteristics of contemporary individuals, one can identify the best forms of action, thus influencing the character and direction of the historical process. The overcoming of fatalistic conclusions was also reinforced by revealing the driving forces of social development rooted in the material and economic interests of individuals—the immediate causes of human actions that comprise political and social institutions. According to this perspective, the primary goal of the state is to protect private property and the security of the individual. In this regard, private property holds greater significance: a ruler may deprive a subject of life if there is sufficient reason and evident cause, but he must beware of encroaching upon their property, for people "would rather forgive the death of their father than the loss of their possessions."

Thus, a collective effort was made within Renaissance social philosophy to understand society as a product of human activity, rather than celestial forces. At the same time, Machiavelli's position significantly diverges from those of other Renaissance humanists. He refrains from extolling the higher "dignity" of humanity, instead expressing the belief in human frailty and imperfection, the principal traits of which, in his view, are selfishness, greed, distrust, and ambition. Hence, the defining characteristic of social life is constant struggle and competition among individuals, social groups, and nations, each striving to satisfy their material interests at the expense of one another. Achieving peace and safeguarding individuals' security under such conditions is objectively impossible without a powerful state, whose ruler is permitted to employ any means necessary to maintain and strengthen his authority. In this regard, the boundary between good and evil, justice and injustice becomes tenuous, as all that serves the state and preserves its integrity is deemed moral.

In opposition to the Machiavellian pessimism that ultimately reconciles itself with the corruption of human nature, the conflictual essence of social existence, and even justifies them to some degree, are the utopian concepts of the late Renaissance, which radiated an optimistic confidence in the possibility of "remaking" humanity after the model of unchanging perfection. One of the authors of such concepts was Thomas More (1478—1535)—an English humanist, statesman, and philosopher. In his work, "A Book of a Truly Golden and Equally Useful and Delightful Nature, Concerning the Best State of a Commonwealth and the Island of Utopia," he sharply critiques the contemporary political and social order: royal despotism, inhumane laws against theft and vagrancy, the policy of "enclosure," which impoverishes thousands of peasants, among others. The root of social evil lies in private property and money, which give rise to wealth and poverty, crimes and violence. In this light, the essence of political organization reveals itself as "a conspiracy of the rich, who think only of their own interests, cloaking themselves with the name and good of the state." Thus, in the "best form of government," situated on the island of Utopia (literally translated from Greek as "nowhere"), private property is forbidden, the production of material goods is socialized, all citizens are mandated to work, and money is retained solely for the purposes of external trade.

A similar model of an ideal society was later conceived in "The City of the Sun" by Tommaso Campanella (1568—1639)—a Dominican monk, philosopher, and poet. Advocating against private property, he focused even more intently on the task of overcoming human egoism. By excluding all possible sources of its emergence and imposing strict norms for the collectivization of family, education, and daily life, while establishing an authoritarian regime governed by philosopher-priests, the thinker subtly approached the complete subjugation of the individual to a society that nullified any individual differences, which of course contradicted the idea of a free person who independently asserts their "self." Thus, the initial individualistic values of humanism transformed into their opposite—an advocacy of extreme collectivism and uniformity.

In summarizing the characteristics of the socio-philosophical doctrines of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, it is crucial to emphasize that, in their unity, they form a dynamic system of thought, demonstrating the potential threats of opposing the spiritual to the material and vice versa. In defending the idea of the "heavenly city," medieval thinkers reflected, in their own way, the objective, necessary foundation of social integrity. However, in its absolutized form, this theoretical approach turned into a means of legitimizing the subjective arbitrariness of spiritual and secular rulers. Conversely, humanists, by developing the idea of the intrinsic value of the "earthly city," moved closer to defining the active mode of human existence. At the same time, many of them, having rejected a religiously transcendent understanding of society, repeated the errors of the sophists, failing to provide an explanation of the necessary nature of unity within social diversity that would avoid the pitfalls of extreme individualism (or extreme collectivism) and moral relativism. The resolution of this task was continued by the thinkers of the New Age.