I hope these lines about a great master of Western culture, Cicero, have more impact than those I usually write based on the Chinese philosophy of Mozi. Perhaps what I write about China generates some resistance or attracts less attention among readers here, who are likely to be mostly Western or, in any case, have the West as their primary reference.
Likewise, I hope this helps you understand the seriousness, confidence, and certainty with which I speak when proposing the reform of the UN. After all, what could be greater proof of the truth than the absolute coincidence of the judgment of the sages of both East and West, without any communication between them? This is also an expression of the common sense shared by all human beings.
What I do not know, my friend, is how to act or what else to do to bring this clear and distinct thought about peace and human harmony into practice. All it requires is to be known, shared, and publicized, yet no one seems to take notice. I receive no likes, and paradoxically, this knowledge— which I have no doubt is beneficial to everyone without exception and has the power to save us permanently from the misery in which we find ourselves— is not being shared. I do not even want to turn your gaze toward that misery.
And I believe all of this happens because politics is the state’s means of corrupting human beings—that is, of denying them their humanity in favor of violence.
I have previously presented here the Chinese cosmopolitanism of Mozi, the so-called policy of Universal Love. His masters and books were burned by the Qin state once it unified China. His texts were secretly preserved within Taoist Patrology, and even today, his doctrine is known in China in a rather distorted and obscure manner. And although I have addressed Chinese scholars, no one there wants to talk to me about Mòzǐ.
Mòzǐ’s doctrine, known as the Policy of Universal Love, states that humans naturally and unanimously condemn evil— harming others, stealing, killing, etc. However, among states, killing by the thousands or millions and stealing as much as possible is considered glorious. Therefore, Mozi argues that humans simply need to coexist and share the same community, and mutual love will logically follow. Just as the cause of hatred and confrontation is division or partiality.
This is the same thought found in Western cosmopolitanism, which emerged after the death of Socrates— a moment when the evil of politics could no longer be concealed. At that time, all free schools— the Cyrenaics (precursors of the Epicureans) and the Cynics (precursors of the Stoics)— became cosmopolitan, sharing Mozi’s idea of humanity’s need to coexist in the same community. The only exception was Plato’s Academy, which was funded by the polis/the state.
The works of Zeno, the founder of Stoicism, have been “lost,” unfortunately, but Plutarch clearly explains his ideas:
“The much-admired Republic of Zeno, the first author of the Stoic school, aims solely at this: that we should not live under different laws in different cities and nations, but should regard all people in general as our compatriots and fellow citizens, following a single way of life and a single type of order, like a herd feeding in a common pasture with equal rights. Zeno wrote this, imagining, as in a dream, a certain scheme of civil order and the image of a philosophical community.” (Plutarch, On the Fortune or Virtue of Alexander, I, p. 240)
The fact is that cosmopolitanism has no political form; it is not a system of command and cannot take place within the framework of the state because it is a system of freedom. This is why the proposed UN reform, as a body of Humanity, does not impose the will of some over others—whether by majorities or minorities—but rather enables free cooperation for the common good.
It is curious that Stoicism is currently studied while leaving aside its core concept—human unity and coexistence. Instead, it is presented as a doctrine of virtue, a subjective philosophy, an “inner Cosmopolis,” as it was transmitted by notable Roman politicians such as Cicero, Seneca, and Marcus Aurelius. They accepted the impotence of cosmopolitanism as a political practice and transformed it into a mental doctrine, a way to subjectively reconcile themselves with the universe. Meanwhile, they ignored the fundamental, objective aspect of its founder, Zeno. I have already explained here that this impotence was due to the ignorance of world limits and lack of communication among humans in the ancient world—something that no longer applies today.
Even though cosmopolitanism has no political form, I am gradually finding texts that refer to what could be called its “political form” or the form of human relations within a cosmopolitan community. This coincides with Mozi’s vision in the concept of “utility”—the idea that everything, except for weapons (which are used to cause harm), exists to serve us.
I have found this idea in various scattered texts on the Stoic scholars and, particularly, in Cicero’s work On Duties (De Officiis), which he dedicated to his son:
“Everything the earth produces is given for the benefit of mankind, and men, in turn, are born for the benefit of their fellow men, so that they can do good to one another.”
The reader should note that the UN reform proposal was formulated without prior knowledge of these texts (although I was familiar with Mòzǐ’s works).
On Duties aims to demonstrate that “utility and honesty are the same,” which is why I say above that politics corrupts, as it forces dishonesty through partiality. I include here some passages for the reader to judge for themselves.
Cicero states:
“We have learned that Socrates used to curse those who first separated in thought what nature had united. The Stoics certainly agreed with this view, believing that everything that was honest was useful and that nothing useful could be dishonest.”
Or:
“Consequently, everyone should have a single purpose: that individual utility and the utility of all be the same; for if each person takes it for themselves, the entire human community will be undone. And if nature prescribes that a man should care for the welfare of another man—whoever he may be—simply because he is a human being, then by the same natural law, utility must be common to all. If this is so, then we are all bound by one single and identical natural law; and if this is the case, then we are certainly prohibited by the same law from harming another. If the first is true, then the last must also be true.” (De Officiis, Book III, VI)
It is also fascinating how Cicero—whom I had not read until now (though Kant certainly did)—links both concepts, even in the most doubtful cases, through publicity. I insist that publicity is the guarantee of the common good and the proper functioning of UN reform. For instance, in discussing Plato’s myth of a man who finds a ring that makes him invisible and allows him to become king through a series of crimes, Cicero argues:
“When we ask what people would do if they could conceal their wrongdoing, we are not asking if they actually can conceal it, but rather forcing them to admit that if they would act wrongly under guaranteed impunity, they confess themselves to be criminals; and if they deny it, they concede that all wrongdoing must be avoided for its own sake.” (De Officiis, Book III, IX)
Thus, Cicero concludes:
“Nothing is useful that is not honest; and not because it is useful is it honest, but because it is honest, it is useful.” (De Officiis, Book III, XXX)
Politics fosters hatred. As Carl Schmitt says, a state is forged against an enemy. Is Russia really a threat to Europe? Or is it simply the necessary enemy to forge Europe’s armed power—that is, its state? It makes no difference to me.
The UN reform proposal to establish human unity is based on utility and has nothing to do with narratives, rituals, or beliefs, which serve only to conceal evil. Evil is the weapon—the opposite of utility—since its purpose is destruction, that is, the negation of utility.