While teaching the central ideas of classical social contract theorists -- namely Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), John Locke (1632-1702), and Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) -- students often relate Hobbes to the current global disorder.
Are we still living in a state of nature? Of course, this is an exaggeration, but the growing number of wars around the world and the absence of enforceable laws to restrain belligerent nations give the impression of lawlessness, where the jungle law of “might is right” prevails.
While the international scene is bleak, so is the situation in several countries, where establishing an orderly, rules-based society is of utmost importance today.
Thomas Hobbes's views were shaped by the English Civil War (1642-1648), during which the parliamentarians fought the monarchists. Hobbes fled to Paris for self-preservation. The experience of the civil war left a deep impression on him. In his masterpiece Leviathan, published in 1651, he advocated for absolute political authority with indivisible sovereign power as an antidote to social disorder.
Hobbes prioritized social order over everything else, even if that meant surrendering all individual rights to an all-powerful political authority.
Hobbes's view of politics was founded on his understanding of human psychology, or what was referred to as “human nature” in his time. All three classical social contract theorists had their respective views on human nature. Rousseau, for example, claimed that people, if left alone, would be fine; he had a positive view of human nature, which was the opposite of Hobbes's outlook.
Of the three, Hobbes had the bleakest view of human nature. He thought that, if left to their own devices, humans would harm each other because they are selfish and brutal. Humans, he believed, are warlike and seek power. As a result, in the state of nature -- pre-state society -- life was "nasty, poor, brutish, and short."
Yet, humans were not completely devoid of rationality. They were rational enough to recognize their own limitations. They reached a social contract -- an agreement to surrender their rights and invest total power in a supreme authority, such as a powerful monarch or other authority -- a Leviathan, who would protect them from themselves.
It’s not that people in society literally gathered in a large field to transfer power to a supreme leader; rather, this was a thought experiment -- a hypothesis to account for the rise of political authority -- and a plausible one.
The problem of social order is not unfamiliar to Bangladesh. I remember the breakdown of political authority in 1971 during the Liberation War. While some people may now find it convenient to forget that glorious history of the freedom struggle, history is not so easily erased. Yes, histories are sometimes rewritten or reinterpreted to suit those in power, but fake history has a short shelf life.
I distinctly remember, as we sought shelter in the villages near Bagerhat, that even without any semblance of political authority, society functioned well. People took care of one another, and society did not descend into Hobbesian lawlessness or a return to the state of nature.
My foremost responsibility was to protect my mother and two younger siblings from harm. I was amazed by the hospitality of the villagers when we took shelter in a school in Kochua. The intimidation, lawlessness, and divisiveness followed the Pakistani army's invasion into the hinterlands, as some locals chose to side with the Pakistani forces.
Some joined them out of loyalty to Pakistan, while others were opportunistic, viewing collaboration as a survival strategy.
As tens of thousands left their homes and sought refuge in India, a reign of organized looting was unleashed by the Razakars and Pakistani loyalists.
Recent episodes of social disorder and lawlessness have reached new heights. Lynching and mob violence have turned Hobbes's nightmare into a reality.
But Hobbes’s solution of an all-powerful ruler is not an option for a democracy-loving people. The paradox of Bangladesh's politics is that while the aspiration for democracy is high, the preparedness -- both institutionally and culturally -- is low.
There is much to learn from John Locke, a great proponent of tolerance and rights, and from Rousseau, who championed cooperation based on the principles of equality and liberty. Rousseau’s insistence on equality, in addition to liberty, laid the foundation of modern democracy.
While valuable lessons can be drawn from the 17th- and 18th-century European philosophers who lived through the Age of Science and the Enlightenment, it is also important to consider the ground realities of contemporary society.
Back then, technology was limited to the printing press. Today, we live in the age of high-speed internet and artificial intelligence. We have more diversity but also more divisiveness and animosity. More and more people depend on unfiltered social media, avoiding reading, which requires reflection and a different kind of cognitive exercise.
Traditional class divisions are no longer the sole basis of societal fragmentation. There are now new factions based on emotion, loyalty, and partisanship.
As emotion takes the place of rational discourse, and as the reading public is overwhelmed by the TikTok and reels generations, divisiveness and fissures deepen.
A new social contract is more challenging to establish now than at any time in the past, yet the absence of a social contract is not an option. And this new social contract must be inclusive.
Habibul Haque Khondker is a sociologist and columnist.
