National University For Study and Research in Law
National University For Study and Research in Law
Constitutional Law
Semester IInd(A)
Roll no.-493
At least since John Locke, writers have pitted power against lawfulness, championing the rule of
law for its protection of the political order against both popular and governmental overreaching.
Aristotle is often cited as the source of this opposition between power and lawfulness insofar as
he takes law to constrain the overreaching characteristic of human nature, the rule of law to
exemplify reason’s moderation of desire, and the constitution to be the source of the rule of law.
Offering an interpretation of Aristotle which challenges the opposition between reason and desire
driving most formulations of the rule of law, this Article argues that Aristotle understands the
rule of law as itself a practice of political power, issuing from practical wisdom, which combines
reason and desire. Treating the rule of law, in this way, as the rule of men as well raises the
possibility that the question of political authority, at the heart of debates about constitutionalism,
is at the same time a question of political authorship and accountability — accountability to, and
of, both a regime and a people.
I have argued that it is the everyday practice of law on the part of a polity’s phronetic citizens
that makes (or unmakes) its laws and that lawfulness is guided by a polity’s proper constitution
even as laws and lawfulness — themselves understood as practices of good citizenship —
preserve that constitution. The rule of (good) law, so understood, dependent on the rule of (good)
men, does not contradict popular sovereignty but, instead, promotes a political and citizen-
oriented practice of law that, while guided by the constitution, also founds and refounds that
constitution daily. Insisting that both the rule of law and the rule of men take their guidance from
the constitution does not contradict popular sovereignty either, because the authority of the
constitution, as the way of life of the people, lies in citizens’ participating as makers and subjects
of their own law. This politically-rich circularity affiliates the sovereignty of law with popular
sovereignty, both being practices of citizenship regulated by the constitutions that those citizens
authorize. So understood, the constitution disciplines the power of the people, the power of those
who govern, and the power of law itself. But it does so not by standing over and against a
citizenry, or its rulers, or the polity, for the source of its disciplinary power does not lie outside
those it regulates. Instead, the constitution is itself a practice of self-discipline. Aristotle
reconciles popular sovereignty with the rule of law by means of the dependence of both on
virtue, specifically, as we have seen, the virtue of moderation. It is the individual and
constitutional practice of moderation that is responsible for stemming the tendencies to overreach
on the part of rulers, citizens, and polities. Most important, perhaps, is that moderation preserves
or saves practical wisdom, whose imperative nature generates the laws that guide and command
citizens and rulers in much the same way that the rule of law guides and commands a political
life. If there is this direct relation between practical wisdom and law and practical wisdom gets
its bearing from moral virtue, then the political analog of moral virtue, Aristotle seems to
suggest, is the constitution. Just as virtue is comprised of sedimented habits, with no precise and
identifiable source, that are generated by actions and that themselves generate but do not fully
determine activity, so too is a constitution, as Aristotle’s endorsement of the ancestral
constitution implies, a product of long and unvarying habit, a "way of life of a people," generated
by a series of actions that have, by repetition and acquiescence, acquired the force of law. If
virtue "preserves" practical wisdom and so produces (even as it is guided by) good judgment
and, thereby, lawfulness, the polity’s proper constitution, by introducing predictability, pattern,
and order into individual practices, safeguards and preserves lawfulness to produce (even as it is
guided by) the common judgment of the community — its common sense or consensus.
Deliberative democrats tend to treat the constitution as a rule of right reason and to reify and
freeze it by locating it out of time, in an invariable realm that transcends that of human affairs.
Positivists similarly reify the constitution by treating it as a "dead" rule for the future, a fact of
social acceptance. In contrast, Aristotle’s constitutionalism refers not to time immemorial nor to
a specific founding moment, but rather to a way of life, whose origin is in the past but whose
force lies in the everyday social, political, and ethical practices of its citizens. Aristotle’s
constitution, like the practices that produce and preserve it, is changeable, albeit in the form of
the incrementalism and gradualism associated with changes in habit. In this way, it safeguards
the stability of a polity and is also able to recognize and accommodate the variability of human
affairs. Aristotle’s constitutionalism is able to do all these things because he treats a constitution
as a telos and, as such, as the way of life of a people in a regime. The tense of telos is futural,
intentional, and aspirational. Its focus, however, is not on the future but on the present.
Aristotle’s account of the telos of human beings, living well and happily (eudaimonia), for
example, concerns the practice of virtuous activities in the ongoing present of an individual life.
His consideration of the eudaimonic constitution does the same, attending to the ongoing
practices and institutions in existing regimes. If the Nicomachean Ethics investigates excellence
so that human beings may become good,thePolitics and the Constitution of the Athenians
investigate how Athens can attain its constitutional telos and become a good regime, which is to
say, one that is both democratic and oligarchic and neither, a regime Aristotle, not surprisingly,
simply calls, in the Politics, the constitutional polity or politeia. Is Aristotle’s constitutional
polity beyond the liberal imagination? Insofar as Aristotle’s politeia differs from modern liberal
democracies with, in particular, their theoretical commitment to a fundamental separation of
ethics from politics, the answer is yes. When, however, "liberal" is understood in its original
relation to liberality and liberty and hence to generosity and freedom — etymological
connections present in the Greek eleutheriotes (liberality) and eleutheria (liberty) as well — then
thinking critically about modern constitutionalism demands the exercise of a liberal, which is to
say, a generous and free, imagination. Drawing on a past to open possibilities for a future, a
generous and free imagination recognizes the importance of translating old to new in light of
both the signal discontinuities and the important continuities between past and present.
Imagination, so understood, distinguishes a practice of history, critical to modernity, which
Aristotle, in the Poetics, calls poetry.