This chapter revisits Sadr’s production from the mid-1970s until his execution in 1980, analyzing two overlooked texts – Manabi‘ al-Qudra fi al-Dawla al-Islamiyya and Al-Madrasa al-Qur’aniyya – that challenge portrayals of Sadr as an unequivocal supporter of Khomeini and Wilayat al-Faqih. These writings reflect Sadr’s engagement with Arab Leftist thought and Marxist determinism, as well as his commitment to developing a political theology centered on human agency. In contrast to Khomeini’s model of absolute clerical guardianship, Sadr advanced a participatory theory of Islamic government. His writings articulated the cultural and civilizational aims of Islamic governance. Notably, Sadralso staged a rare intervention on veiling and gender norms, marking a striking but forgotten episode. The chapter situates Sadr’s thought within ideological currents of the 1970s, including intra-Shi‘i debates in Iraq, the emergence of the Islamic Left, and evolving conceptions of turath (heritage). It argues that Sadr’s vision represented a distinctive alternative to both leftist models and clerical authoritarianism: a Shi‘i Islamic framework for cultural renewal, moral agency, and constitutionalism. By theorizing an Islamic notion of free will and social contract, Sadr carved out a critical space within post-1967 Arab political thought – one that remains vital to rethinking modern Islamic political thought.

Chapter 1 draws on the history of Russia’s military interventions in Ukraine to distinguish two conceptions of sovereign equality under international law. It argues that that international law in the twentieth century embraced a constitutional and equitable conception of sovereign equality, generating state obligations to cooperate with one another to resolve disputes over matters of common concern in accordance with equitable principles.

This book offers a selection of key texts mostly written by leading figures in the history of Spanish American political thought during the first century of independence. Political thinkers in the region had to grapple with rather unique and extraordinary circumstances after three centuries of Spanish colonial rule. The emergence of a significant number of new independent polities that adopted representative institutions in an era when absolutism still prevailed in Western Europe, their general adoption of republicanism (except for Mexico during the brief rule of Agustín de Iturbide in 1822–1823, and Maximilian in 1864–1867), and their complex demographic composition, all posed serious challenges for the formation and consolidation of national states in Spanish America. In dialogue with the major currents of thought in Western Europe and North America, Spanish American thinkers often reflected upon these and other related problems while being politically engaged, either in government or in opposition.

The historical background to democracy, which good citizens must defend, started with the Greeks. Thucydides, Plato, Aristotle, and Polybius thought that political history was circular, which meant that good regimes, ruling on behalf of the people, held sway for a time but deteriorated into bad regimes – tyrannical – ruling for the rulers’ benefit. Their solution was to propose “mixed regimes,” containing monarchical, aristocratic, and democratic elements which, checked and balanced, would have to cooperate with each other by compromising different interests. Such a regime was the Roman Republic, which promoted both compromise and public virtue (“republicanism”) in the sense of devotion toward the state. During the Enlightenment, European political thinkers added the concepts of “sovereignty,” in order to impose public order, and “social contracts,” to make sovereigns at least somewhat answerable to subjects. Thus when the Founders convened to invent their government, they used “common sense,” prescribed by Paine, Jefferson, Madison, and others, to fashion a mixed government of special character. That government, which the Founders called “republican,” rested on a written “constitution,” which reined in “factions” via “checks and balances,” and which refrained from creating a “sovereign” who might, as in the French case almost immediately, plunge the nation into war.

The French imaginary is a Republican imaginary that is premised on political liberty. The red thread across the political thought and the various constitutions of France has been the pursuit of the ideal political regime that would best realise political liberty and the general interest. That approach stands in stark contrast with the civil-liberty-focused Anglo-American liberal tradition, according to which state power ought to be curtailed in order to maximise individual rights. Those two essentially different traditions could rather peacefully coexist in Europe at the Westphalian time of the nation-states. The clash has, however, become inevitable in a time where globalisation and the latter’s regional avatars act as vehicles of Anglo-American liberalism. This chapter introduces the French constitutional imaginary, relying on the tools provided by intellectual history and constitutional law. It contrasts it with the Anglo-American political thought and shows how the former has remained strong despite the erosion caused by the pervasiveness of the latter.

Chapter 8 focuses on Machiavelli’s mature theory of the state in the Discorsi. It begins by drawing attention to the extent to which his theory continues to be mounted as an attack upon the prevalent pattern of neo-classical political discourse in the humanist writings of his predecessors, which had defined and explicated the civitas, the populus, and the res publica as forms of civil association. Their political arguments had been predicated upon a belief in natural human sociability. As in Il Principe, so in the Discorsi, Machiavelli’s theory of the state involves him in rejecting these philosophical presuppositions entirely and in supplying a new philosophical picture of the state as a body. After identifying some new challenges which now face Machiavelli in his account of ‘the free state’, this chapter shows how Machiavelli uses Book 1, chapter 2, to furnish two novel pieces of his theory. The first consists in a conjectural history of the state; the second articulates a genealogy of virtue. That Machiavelli’s explanation of the generation of a moral vocabulary among humans is ensconced within his account of the formation of the state is of lasting significance for our understanding of the architecture of his philosophy.

Contemporary constitutional theorists typically assume that a system of constitutional adjudication inevitably stands in tension with a majoritarian understanding of democracy. Kelsen’s influential defence of constitutional review, by contrast, goes along with an affirmation of a procedural and majoritarian understanding of democracy. Did Kelsen fail to spot the supposed conflict between constitutional review and democracy? Or did he identify a solution to the counter-majoritarian difficulty? Michel Troper has vigorously argued that Kelsen’s defence of constitutional review is confused and fails to cohere with his conception of democracy. This chapter defends Kelsen’s argument for constitutional review against Troper’s charges. It argues both that Kelsen’s case for constitutional review is fundamentally sound and that it carries the potential to make an important contribution to contemporary debates on the legitimacy of judicial control of constitutionality. Kelsen’s argument for constitutional review offers a compelling case for constitutional review that focuses on the conditions of the proper functioning of electoral democracy rather than on the protection of liberal rights.

On my interpretation of Kelsen’s ‘pure’ theory of law, his basic norm must be understood as a regulative assumption, a claim about inquiry and what individuals must assume if their inquiry is into the authority of law. As such, this idea has both theoretical and practical dimensions. As a matter of theory, it requires an elaboration of authority as legitimate and attention to the way in which the relationship between those who wield authority and those subject to it can be said to be one of right rather than might. As a matter of practice, it requires attention to the way in which, in light of legal subjects’ experience of law, legal order is and should be designed with a view to vindicating its intrinsic commitment to the rule of law and its concomitant commitment to constitutionalism. However, all that cannot be had without acknowledging the drive towards substance in Kelsen’s theory, one that sacrifices its claim to be pure of ideology in the sense of political value commitments. But it preserves purity in an account in exclusively legal terms of how politics can take place in a space constructed by law, internationally as well as domestically.

This chapter discusses the effects on eighteenth-century conceptions of ‘the people’ of the experience of the revolutionary decade of the 1790s and the conservative reaction against it, paying particular attention to the writing of William Hazlitt, William Wordsworth, and their poet-activist friend John Thelwall. It discusses ideas of a convention of the people found in the popular radical circles influenced by Thomas Paine that Thelwall frequented, especially in relation to appeals to the state of exception that might allow for a revolutionary intervention in the constitution via a convention of the people. It ends by discussing the way these debates migrated into a tension between a philosophical idea of the people and an embodied politics that might coalesce around practical objects of reform that continued on far into the nineteenth century.

In crosscurrents of the shift away from an imperial world order surfaced another contentious debate over changing hierarchies within human rights: Were universal human rights primarily about socioeconomic rights (requiring states to strengthen social welfare and economic opportunity), or were they about the right of individuals to exercise their civil and political rights? In underscoring a need for histories of socioeconomic rights that account for interactions between civil, economic, political, and social rights over a long timespan, Steven L. B. Jensen questions the historical accuracy of too stark of a distinction. At the crossroads of decolonization and Cold War geopolitics, however, leaders of liberal democracies insisted that the political and civil rights of the individual were the most important in the universal package, while socialist states emphasized socioeconomic rights (the right to education, the right to work, the right to development) that could benefit individuals as part of their collective belonging, thus furthering the cause of the socialist revolution.