Since the modern nation-state itself emerged as a domestic
response to an imperial redrawing of the map of the planet that brought a
chaotic influx of wealth and ideas into the core countries from abroad, and
since the discourse of
Archibugi wishes to ‘deprive [states] of the oligarchic power they now enjoy’ by a direct appeal to the peoples within states to create a global community with enforceable legal powers. He explains that he prefers the term ‘cosmopolitical’ to describe his prospect, to avoid the colloquial or vaguely humanist connotations of ‘cosmopolitan’. By contrast, I will retain the latter term because I think it indicates the cultural dominant to which his political theory is still unwittingly subject. Archibugi writes from the discipline of international relations, but many of his premisses and referents—invocations of ‘heterogeneity’, ‘spontaneity’ or ‘custom’—are borrowed from the realms of the new urban ethnography and cultural criticism. In considering his construction, I will therefore approach it from the viewpoint of a cultural theory more sensitive to the interdisciplinary flows that have characterized this semantic zone. We need to historicize cosmopolitan discourse. If we do, my argument will be, we can see that cosmopolitanism today is not a new and more supple kind of internationalism, but rather that the two are theoretically incompatible.
Historically, cosmopolitanism has combined two distinct
significations. On the one hand, it designates an enthusiasm for customary
differences, but as ethical or aesthetic material for a unified polychromatic
culture—a new singularity born of a blending and merging of multiple local
constituents. Typically, in this conception, a subjunctive ‘ought’ contains
a normative ‘is’: the suggestion that the period in question is—for the
first time in history—already substantially cosmopolitan. On the other hand,
cosmopolitanism projects a theory of world government and corresponding
Archibugi does not call for the abolition of existing states, or the creation of a single world government. He opts instead for a global civil society to monitor the system of states. Yet few of the ironies of historical development season his well-intentioned proposals. States today, he writes, are faced with new kinds of identity politics, separatist movements and immigrant enclaves, which have compelled them to recognize a degree of internal heterogeneity that goes against the grain of their natural drive towards uniformity. But this is a European perspective. What it misses is the extent to which the United States portrays itself as a cynosure of heterogeneity, its characteristic patriotic myths transforming cosmopolitan values into a national ideal. In not dissimilar fashion, Archibugi argues that political parties are still confined to the national level, and—since no international parties exist—calls for new forms of extra-statist political community to fill the gap. But would it not be more realistic to think of contemporary neo-liberal orthodoxy as a form of unofficial party organization across national frontiers? It certainly commands a vast network of fellow-thinkers in virtually every country in the world, who speak and act in remarkably similar ways, and can be confident of direct or indirect help from their counterparts abroad. It possesses a firm set of principles and a stable programme that has been put into practice with common results by governments across the globe, whose list lengthens every day. As such, it surely constitutes the core of any future community that could plausibly be called cosmopolitical.