A Challenge for Political Philosophers

In a previous blog, Bertrand Russell’s bullshit interpretation of Jean Jacques Rousseau, I expressed puzzlement how it is possible to claim that Hitler is the outcome of Rousseau.

Here I want to introduce a different puzzle.

Consider the following passages, and footnotes in D. G. Ritchie, “Chapter 7. Contributions to the History of the Social Contract Theory,” in Darwin and Hegel with Other Philosophical Studies (1893), (pp. 196-226); p. 206:

As we have seen, Locke quotes King James I. about the “paction” between king and people; but the original compact on which he basis civil government is, just as with Hobbes and with Rousseau, a compact between individual and individual, not between king (or whatever else may be the government) and people.

“Whosoever [he says] out of a state of nature unite into a community must be understood to give up all the power necessary to the ends for which they unite into society, to the majority of the community, unless they expressly agreed in any number greater than the majority. And this is done by barely agreeing to unite into one political society, which is all the compact that is, or needs be, between the individuals that enter into or make up a commonwealth.”2[2 Treatise of Civil Government, II., § 99. In a footnote in the English translation of Bluntschli’s Theory of the State (Oxford, 1885), p. 276 — a footnote for which I am responsible — I followed the usual fashion of contrasting Locke and Rousseau. Further study of Locke has convinced me that there is no essential difference between them in this matter. The error has been avoided in the second edition (1892); see p. 294.”

Later, pp. 215-216, Ritchie writes:

Milton’s own theory is expounded earlier in his treatise :

“ No man who knows aught can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free, being the image and resemblance of God Himself, and were, by privilege above all creatures, born to command and not to obey; and that they lived so, till from the root of Adam’s transgression falling among themselves to do. wrong and violence, and foreseeing that such courses must needs tend to the destruction of them all, they agreed by common league to bind each other from mutual injury and jointly to defend themselves against any that gave disturbance or opposition to such agreement. . . . The power of kings and magistrates is only derivative, transferred and committed to them in trust from the people to the common good of them all, to whom the power yet remains fundamentally, and cannot be taken from them without a violation of their natural birthright.”1 [1 For the term “birthright” in this connection, cf. Clarke Papers, pp. lc, lxi., 322-325.]

This is precisely Locke’s theory; expressed in Milton’s impassioned language, it reveals its identity with the theory of Rousseau. Milton, like Locke, gives the theory a setting of Biblical history. Remove this setting, and we have the theory as it appears in Rousseau.

Ok, you may ask “What’s your point?”

My point is that according to Ritchie, the positions of Locke and Rousseau (as concerns the main points) are the same. But Russell wrote: “Hitler is an outcome of Rousseau; Roosevelt and Churchill of Locke.”

So, evidently Russell must be in disagreement with Ritchie that the positions of Locke and Rousseau (as concerns the main points) are the same. Who is right?

If Ritchie is right, then Russell’s position becomes that Hitler, Roosevelt, and Churchill are the outcome of Locke/Rousseau.

My own position is that it is not clear to me what it means to say that x is the outcome of y; i.e., understood as x’s views are the outcome of y’s views.

Bertrand Russell’s bullshit interpretation of Jean Jacques Rousseau

I write this piece with regret because I admire most of Russell’s writings, and I do recommend his History of Western Philosophy (1945) as an introduction to philosophy, as I also recommend reading Wikipedia articles as a starting point for most inquiries. But starting points should not be taken as terminating points. Because everything is subject to critical review.

Chapter 19 of his History is about Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) who is known primarily for his essays, as collected in , The Social Contract and Discourses, translated with an introduction by G.D.H. Cole, 1913. [(In my American edition of 1950, there is an 1931 entry in the Bibliography. ]

Some regard Rousseau as the greatest political philosopher. Here are two such opinions;

“. . . Jean-Jacques Rousseau is the greatest political philosopher who has ever lived. His claim to immortality rests upon one short book, Of the Social Contract . . .” Robert Paul Wolff, About Philosophy 9th ed. (2006), p. 318.

G. D. H, Cole (1889-1959), in his clear and insightful introduction to Rousseau’s essays, writes: “. . . the Social Contract itself is by far the best of all textbooks of political philosophy.” (p. l)

Bertrand Russell, on the other hand, describes Rousseau in the most disparaging ways. Let me cite the most outrageous of his claims:

1. “. . . the inventor of the political philosophy of pseudo-democratic dictatorship as opposed to traditional absolute monarchies.”

2. “Hitler is an outcome of Rousseau; Roosevelt and Churchill of Locke.”

3. “Rousseau forgets his romanticism and speaks like a sophistical policeman. Hegel, who owed much to Rousseau, adopted his misuse of the word “freedom,” and defined it as the right to obey the police, or something not very different.”

4. “Its doctrines, though they pay lip-service to democracy, tend to the justification of the totalitarian State.”

5. The final paragraph of Russell’s chapter on Rousseau is this:

“The Social Contract became the Bible of most of the leaders in the French Revolution, but no doubt, as is the fate of Bibles, it was not carefully read and was still less understood by many of its disciples. It introduced the habit of metaphysical abstractions among the theorists of democracy, and by its doctrine of the general will it made possible the mystic identification of a leader with its people, which has no need of confirmation by so mundane an application as the ballot-box, Much of its philosophy could be appropriated by Hegel. [Hegel selects for special praise the distinction between the general will and the will of all. He says: “Rousseau would have made a sounder contribution towards a theory of the State, if he had always kept the distinction in mind.” (Logic, Sec. 163).] in his defense of the Prussian autocracy. Its first-fruit in practice was the reign of Robespierre, the dictatorship of Russia and Germany (especially the latter) are in part an outcome of Rousseau’s teaching. What further triumphs the future has to offer to his ghost I do not venture to predict.”

I find all these claims bizarre — a complete misunderstanding of Rousseau.

As an immediate antidote to this misreading, I recommend the introduction to the essays by G.D.H. Cole, and an essay which Cole recommended as a historical summary of the social contract tradition by D.G. Ritchie, “Chapter 7. Contributions to the History of the Social Contract Theory,” (pp. 196-226) in Darwin and Hegel with Other Philosophical Studies (1893)

Although in my opinion Russell totally misunderstood Rousseau’s Social Contract, for the sake of what I am about to say, let us assume (pretend) that Russell’s interpretation of Rousseau is correct. Let us assume (pretend) that Rousseau was espousing a dictatorship of a leader. How does such an alleged espousal lead to, cause, influence, or inspire Hitler?

To make such a claim at least plausible would require, I think, the following presuppositions:
1. Intellectuals have an influence on the general public, or
2. Intellectuals have an influence on politicians, or
3. Hitler was influenced by Rousseau.

My general view is that intellectuals are taken notice of by mostly other intellectuals, and hardly at all by the general public or by politicians. This is to say that intellectuals have almost no effect on politics.

The exceptions are — to speak sarcastically — philosopher kings, i.e., politicians who happen to be intellectuals. I am thinking of such figures as Jefferson, Madison, Hamilton, Woodrow Wilson (in the United States); Thomas Masaryk in Czechoslovakia; Lenin and Trotsky in Russia; and such.

Was Hitler an intellectual? And if he read Rousseau, what did he get from him? How in the world does one support the thesis that Hitler is an outcome of Rousseau?

Looking on the Internet whether anyone else commented on Russell’s view of Rousseau, I came across the following interesting piece: Thomas Riggins, “Russell, Rousseau, And Rationality: A Marxist Critique,” Countercurrents.org, June 30, 2007.

Philosophy as Hermeneutics

As Curt Ducasse pointed out in Philosophy as a Science (1941), there are many conceptions of the nature of philosophy. And there is one which I would like to focus on: philosophy as hermeneutics.

The conception of hermeneutics which I want to focus on is the techniques for the interpretation of the Christian Bible. It is taken for granted (assumed) that the Bible is the word of God, revealed to some individuals. As such, because God is conceived as not a liar, everything in the Bible is taken to be true. However, there are passages which seem to say falsehoods and seem to be contradictory. So, techniques of interpretation are introduced in such a manner as to make the Bible speak only the truth. Look at the Wikipedia articles: hermeneutics and Biblical hermeneutics.

When I read philosophical writings, many of them seem to be written in the same reverential manner as the writings of theologians. They want or assume that the author wrote in a sensible manner and wrote the truth, and they do hermeneutical acrobatics to make it so.

The curious fact is that the authors chosen for such hermeneutical exercises are authors who are on the face of it totally esoterically obscure. And the authors who are clear are ignored. See my discussion at: C. D. Broad: The Default Philosopher of the Century.

The Bullshit of Intellectuals

Thomas Sowell has written a book, Intellectuals and Society (2009), which, in essence, repeats the thesis of Jose Ortega y Gasset, in his book Revolt of the Masses (1930), namely, that men of science who are experts in field X, espouse claims in field Y (in which presumably they are not experts).

As an example, this is exactly the charge which Sowell makes against Bertrand Russell and Noam Chomsky. He admits that they are experts in mathematical logic and linguistics, respectively, but denies that they are experts in social, economic, and political matters.

There are three possible errors in this claim. The first is that Sowell may be wrong by denying to them an expertise outside their core expertise. The second is that people may appeal to the conclusions of experts outside their own area of expertise, as do Russell and Chomsky. And, thirdly, experts disagree; so there is a need to adjudicate.

The conclusion from this reasoning should be that an intellectual should have, as C.D. Broad put it, a synoptic approach, taking into account everything relevant to what he is talking about. So, what Sowell should be saying, or is saying, is something like the following: “Most, or many, intellectuals do not have a synoptic approach — including Russell and Chomsky; but I, Sowell, do.”

Contrary to what Sowell claims, both Russell and Chomsky have a better synoptic view than does Sowell. Why? Simply because Sowell scope of interest is in the actual state of affairs under liberal democracy and capitalism rather than in any radical alternative. Specifically, both Russell and Chomsky espouse a form of liberal socialism, about which Sowell has nothing to say. And I, for example, cite Switzerland as having a better form of democracy than that in the United States. Again, something about which Sowell has nothing to say.

But the point Sowell may be making is that there is too much bullshit coming out of the mouths of so-called intellectuals. And so, what is the remedy? Write a book such as Sowell’s exposing the bullshit. But really? Who will read his book?

The Influence of Science and Intellectuals?

Sowell exaggerates the influence of science and that of intellectuals, including his own influence. For example, Sowell has nothing to say about superstitions and religion. But, in the period of the 17th and 18th centuries, many intellectuals dismissed superstitions and religions as unworthy of belief — as incompatible with science. And recently, four intellectuals have written anti-theistic books. What impact has the Enlightenment or these authors made on the publics belief in superstition and religion?

Since Sowell constantly urges us to consult the empirical and statistical data, here are the statistics about religion: A WIN/Gallup International poll in 2015 found that 63% of the globe identified as religious, 22% as not religious, and 11% as convinced atheists. So much for the influence of science and intellectuals on popular beliefs!

Here is an interview with Thomas Sowell. Judge for yourself.

Problem Solving and Its Enemies

I have a problem. I cannot go across the street from where I live where there is an open grass-covered block of land and plant some edible plants, or erect a fenced-in chicken coop for a supply of daily eggs. Instead, I have to get these from a grocery store by paying money — which I may be short of, or may not have.

Why can’t I use that empty lot across the street? Because if I try, someone will complain to some government official and a policeman will come telling me that what I am doing is illegal, to stop and desist on the threat of arrest. And if I ignore him, he will arrest me. And I will be in a jail, where they will then feed me some vegetables and eggs, and even give me a chicken breast. In other words, they will give me (in exchange for a deprivation of my freedom to roam) the very things which I was trying to procure by my own efforts.

A bit paradoxical, don’t you think?

To explain this conundrum requires getting some knowledge of the culture of my vicinity. And as with all work — including the getting of information and knowledge — there is a division of labor. Knowledge is obtained by research and study, and the results are published in all sorts of places — mostly in scholarly journals and books. And these are stored, mostly in libraries, and now also on computers.

How does this relate to my problem of trying to understand why if I try to furnish my own food supply on the empty lot, I could wind up receiving food in jail, where I would rather not be?

How and where do I get an answer to this problem? If I go to a library, I am sure that someone there will figure out that this is a legal problem and point to the section housing the law books. And if I tell the librarian that I want a wider cultural and historical perspective, I will most likely be taken to a section on sociology and economics, and then to a section on history. And if I ask the librarian if there are any normative studies as to what should be the case, I will likely be taken to some section on political philosophy or political science (so-called).

You get the picture!

And if you pick up any of these “scholarly” writings, you will be bombarded with a nightmare of references and footnotes. Why? To prove to some decider (like an editor of some publication, or a chairman or a dean in some school who decides whether to hire the scholar), as well as to the reading public that the scholar did a whole lot of “research.”

So, what is literary “research”? It is the scrutiny of the work of others as to how they tried to solve some problem, and referencing the work of authors; so that others — if they so desire — can verify the references for accuracy and plausability of interpretation.

What would happen if we removed from a piece of scholarship all the footnotes and references?

The result would be some sort of alternative proposals for a solution. Let’s call the listing of proposed solutions — a librarian’s list.

But, although a listing of alternatives is good, what I really want is a solution — and if not a solution, at least the best alternative.

Now, I do not mean to single out the book by Alexander Gray, The Socialist Tradition: Moses to Lenin (1946), but it does serve as an example of what I want to stress. I have consulted it as a book about socialism, and have found the scholarship very helpful — I mean it is full of names, references, and footnotes — all very helpful for further research for a solution to my original problem.

It has led me to look at the work of Anton Menger and the uncovering of the early English writers on socialism, which present more alternatives.

However, the book also endeavors to provide us with the abstracted alternatives gleaned from all this scholarship, and to adjudicate between them.

Here, I believe, it fails. Not all the plausible alternatives are presented for consideration. There are too many conceptual blunders, and too many emotive disparagements.

In a broad sense of speaking, too much concentration on scholarship distracts and prolongs the finding of a solution to a problem, and is thus, in this sense, its enemy.

In Search of Scholarship about Social Problems

I feel confident about how to find scientific and technological information. Today this is quickly accomplished through the internet. If you want to cook cassava (or find out what it is) or if you want to restart your hot water heater (as I had to do recently), use a search engine, and you mostly likely will not only receive the needed information, but you will also most likely find a video demonstrating how to do the cooking or the repair.

When it comes to normative social issues, the matter is not that simple. By a “normative” issue, I mean some prescription of what should be done, rather than just a description or even an explanation of what is being done.

There are, of course, various recipes and procedures for using particular methods and tools for achieving particular goals. For example, there are prescriptions for using a hammer for the purpose of driving a nail, and a prescription for how to hold and use a hammer. I, myself, gave a prescription or recommendation to use the internet for getting information and a demonstration. You, of course, can get such information and demonstration from some live persons, or you could find some paper source.

But my concern is with the state of the social world. The fact that we are facing an ecological doomsday, the fact that there is war, genocide, protest, violence, a stark division of people into wealthy classes, poor, and desperate. These are problems for which I want solutions; if not a practical one, at least an ideal one. And I read and listen to people with their proposals, and to date I have formulated my own solutions to the extent that I have. But I do not rest content. I entertain the possibility that I may be wrong, and that others may have formulated better solutions. So I keep reading, listening, watching, searching.

If you have been reading my blogs, then you know where I stand so far.

However, I feel that I am not that well informed about the history of that vague thing called “socialism.” I mean I know that socialism was widely discussed from the early part of the nineteenth century, after the French Revolution (1789). But I wanted some comparative historical guidance about socialism. Don’t ask me how or when, but I stumbled on a book by Alexander Gray, The Socialist Tradition: Moses to Lenin, 1946. In some previous blogs I have expressed my dissatisfaction with the book, but still in all, it has a bibliography, an attempt at classification, and commentary. All this is helpful.

One thing that I noticed is that Gray is more concerned with “influence” than with the truth, coherence, feasibility, or value of an idea. The result is that in this book he views Marx as the most influential socialist writer. By “influence” he means the amount of literature devoted to examining his writings, and I suppose to how many people have heard of Marx and Marxism, and called themselves Marxist. And, in terms of this kind of “influence,” he is probably correct.

The result of this view of Marx is that a very important part of his chapter 11, is called “The Pre-Marxians.” And the reason he gives them this title is that they had some similar ideas to Marx, and, in fact, Marx learned from some of them and accepted some of their ideas.

Reading Gray’s exposition of these “pre-Marxians” was an eye-opener. I wanted to read them myself. And I took careful notice of Gray’s footnote #1 to his exposition of William Thomson: “[Anton] Menger, The Right to the Whole Produce of Labour, with introduction by H.S. Foxwell (1899).” But what grabbed my attention was the next sentence: “It was this volume that brought belated recognition to the members of this group.” Aha, so it was Anton Menger’s book which was the source of Gray’s knowledge of these “pre-Marxians.”

So, I have now read this book by Anton Menger. In a future blog I will make a critical assessment of this book. But here I simply want to express two thoughts.

1. After reading Menger’a book, it turns out that Menger has given a systematic examination of socialism from a juridical perspective which pales Gray’s approach by comparison.

2. My second observation is this. A current writer on a social topic is not necessarily better informed or a better thinker just because he has access to past writings. For example, Alexander Gray apparently read Menger, and learned the names and books of the English socialists, but as far as learning from Menger’s critical thought, he learned nothing — so it seems.

Put-down writing and other side-issues like “influences,” “schools,” and “movements.”

I am going to comment on the book by Alexander Gray, The Socialist Tradition: Moses to Lenin, 1946. What I say about this book can also be said about many other books as well.

On the one hand, I find the book very valuable for several reasons. Among these is its listing and coverage of a host of socialists and its classification of socialisms, and its bibliography. I also find valuable the exposition of the ideas covered, and for the critical commentary.

However, on the other hand, I find the book annoying for its attempts at psychological and sociological commentary, and more so for Gray’s — what can I call them? — put-downs. As examples of put-downs which annoyed me are: “The fundamental trouble with the anarchist is that, though he may be highly intelligent, he has no sense.” (p. 381) “Anarchism is rather the charming dream of an innocent child.” (p. 495) Without explanations, these are simply ridicule and insult.

This reminds me of the famous description of Noam Chomsky [Paul Robinson,”The Chomsky Problem,” The New York Time, Feb. 25, 1979.] as “arguably the most important intellectual alive today.” This is followed by a criticism of his political writings. It leaves the impression that the writer is using the following put-down: “How is it that such a brilliant linguist is so politically naive?”

There are other things in Gray’s book which annoy me. They could be classified under an attempt at psychology and sociology.

Let me begin with psychology. Instead of just stating and evaluating an author’s ideas, he also attempts at trying to understand what caused him to have these ideas. Thus he looks into a thinker’s biography for what are called “influences.” Instead on focusing on the ideas or claims themselves, Gray seeks some sort of assimilation from someone else’s writings — perhaps a “borrowing” or “stealing” from someone else. What is being ignored or postponed is an exposition of an author’s position — his ideas and claims. Where they came from — other than from his own brain — is a different question — perhaps a question of originality, plagiarism, or subconscious assimilation. But this is a separate matter from understanding the ideas themselves.

In reading a piece of argumentative writing, for most of the time, I have no idea who the author is — and I really don’t care. Why? Because I am able to critically evaluate what I am reading regardless of who the author is. To think that the character of the author has some bearing on the truth or value of his writings is to commit the genetic fallacy. [See my similar criticism: “A bullshit argument against the writings of Karl Marx by Stefan Molyneux”]

The other sort of irrevancy relative to an understanding of an author is the matter of his “influence” or “impact” on others. And here Gray introduces the ideas of “schools” and “movements.” I suppose a “school” exists when two or more thinkers have similar ideas as a result of talking to each other. And as to a “movement,” I don’t know what to say. Perhaps it requires some kind of association — a party, a club; or perhaps a periodical or periodicals with a broad readership. I associate the word “movement” with the flowing of lava from a volcano, land-slides, floods, a tsunami, an approaching storm with moving clouds, a herd of reindeer or buffalo moving over a grazing ground, or a crowd of people moving in some direction. All I know is that talk of human “movements” is a sociological matter, which is in principle a matter of numbers and percentages.

Gray seems to be very interested in “schools” and “movements.” I am not. I am foremost interested in the ideas themselves — not in how many people held them or what “influence” they had.

A further criticism. There seems to be some kind of expectation by snobbish writers that all readers are fluent in at least three languages: English, German, and French. And that a knowledge of Greek and Latin goes without saying. Sometimes it is expected that the reader also knows Russian and Italian. This is bullshit. If you are writing for an English reader, translate everything into English beside the foreign quotations and citations!

Bertrand Russell: “. . . the fundamental concept in social science is Power, in the same sense in which Energy is the fundamental concept in physics.”

Bertrand Russell, Power: A New Social Analysis, 1938.

Bullshit about “Influence”

It is natural to seek explanations. And we are very successful in doing this with inanimate things, as in physics and chemistry. When it comes to living things — well, it gets fuzzy. And when it comes to explaining human activity, it gets to be perplexing. There is in humans something analogous to Aristotle’s saying that “nature abhors a vacuum.” It is to the effect that “the human psyche abhors a tabula rasa.” The result: myths. And in everyday life, there is the aversion to acknowledge ignorance; hence, the production of some claim or other — bullshit.

Why am I dwelling on this. It has to do with my very long uneasiness with claims to “influence.” In trying to understand the actions (including the linguistic acts of writing), all types of explanations are sought. And since causal explanations like those in physics or chemistry are out of place, some other explanations are sought. These are segregated into “influences” and “reasons.” “Reasons” I understand; “influences” leave me puzzled.

Reflecting on my own history. I would say that I was influences by the writings of Wilfrid Sellars and C. D. Broad — among others. How so? Simply in the fact that I read them and critically reflected on what they claimed or argued for. Did I agree with them? In some things, yes; in other things, no.

Alfred North Whitehead, in his book Science and the Western World, talked about presuppositions of the age. And Eric Dodds, in his Greeks and the Irrational, talked about an “inherited conglomerate.” Stephen Pepper talked about “World Hypotheses” as based on models and analogies. And when Descartes said “Cogito ergo sum,” he could have been a bit more reflective in recognizing that what he wrote was in a language. Call this linguistically presupposed set of implicit beliefs, a Weltanschauung. Given this understanding, I would acknowledge that I, and everyone else, is influenced by a Weltanschuung, which has a temporal and a geographical location.

Why am I dwelling on this? I am interested in politics and economics, and I have read a few books which I have tried to juxtapose with each other. Incidentally, I keep discovering old books which seem to be excellent, but which I have never heard of either in my experience with higher education, not in current articles or books . . . But then reflecting on the fact that most books in a library are picking up dust . . .

Anyway, I read Oppenheimer’s The State, and he makes constant reference to Ratzel’s “History of Mankind” and Gumplowicz’s “Der Rassenkamp.” I have also recently read some Max Weber and some Karl Marx. And most recently I have returned to Karl Popper’s The Open Society and Its Enemies. Popper is concerned with what he calls “totalitarianism,” which is exemplified by Hitler and Nazi Germany. The Closed Society, he identifies with Tribalism, which in modern times expresses itself, for Popper, as Nationalism. Such a society has a Leader, who has a plan of Holistic or Utopian Engineering. Such totalitarian societies are closed to criticism through censorship.

Popper does a Herculean labor of examining the views of practically the whole history of philosophy, and his criticisms are to the point, insightful, and convincing for the most part. He is critically examing the political views of philosophers and some economists. If one were to justify or rationalize totalitarian practices — then yes, this is the sort of study to do. But such a study as Popper’s is relevant only to scholars who study and criticize the apologists of totalitarianism.

But understanding and explaining totalitarianism is a different matter. But really, how, for example, are the views of political and economic writers relevant to what Hitler did. If Hitler created a totalitarian State, the question should be how and why. Let us compare the mind of Hitler and that of Trump in some respects — like reading. Hitler, I assume was a sincere chauvinistic Nationalist, in the sense that he believed that Germans were superior to others and that Germans should be settled in the regions of Ukraine, by wiping out the indigenous populations. (Remind you of the American treatment of Native Americans? Or the colonial practices of England in Africa and India? Of the Belgian treatment of the Congo?) I suppose Rudyard Kipling’s phrase “white man’s burden” is a rationalization and an encouragement for Americans to take over the Philippines in 1898.

From one perspective, what Hitler did was a form of colonization which all of Europe had been practicing in remote regions of the world; in particular, Hitler followed the American plan of manifest destiny by expanding the German homeland. Other European countries justified themselves by the “white man’s burden” in respect to savages. Well, Hitler extended the coverage of “savages” to include Jews, Gypsies, and Slavs. And where others killed the indigenous people in makeshift ways, he did it efficiently. It is said that he modeled himself after the Armenian genocide of 1915 and the herding of American natives into reservations (concentration camps).

I don’t see how Popper’s book explains what Hitler did, as it would not explain anything which Trump does. Hitler took the practice of colonialism in a direction adjacent to Germany; while Trump will continue American imperialism, not because of any theory, but because he has the power, and he will use it for his own benefit, as he sees fit. As far as I know, neither Hitler nor Trump are intellectuals of any depth — so the literary tradition of the scholar has no relevance for them.

What is the relevant question? How does a person like Hitler or Trump get such power? And the answer is straightforward. There is the almost universal political practice in the world to give power to a single individual — a monarch, a president, a prime minister, a chancellor; and on a smaller scale to a governor or mayor. And once this power is given, there may or may not be ways to control this power. While it is hoped that these autocrats are benevolent; for the most part, they are not. Only Switzerland has wisely refused to give executive power to a single individual; giving it instead to a council of seven. The modern model of giving power to a council, comes from the French Revolution, but, as we know, it degenerated to the dictatorship of Napoleon. So power structures of any kind are precarious.