awr-1avu. 21:. ~31; does not shrink from invoking the pro- phetic tradition in opposition to the idolatry of the nation-State. But he makes it clear that such criticism must never be applied to Israel alone. And he understands that criticism will reg- ister only if it is presented as part of an af?rmation of the Jewish right to self-determination. The Ruethers have BOOK REVIEW failed on these counts, and they have consequently forfeited the audience they claim to seek. Progressive Jews are engaged today in a fateful struggle over the future of Israel and, indeed, the future of the Jewish people. We desperately need all the allies we can get. But the lasr thing we need is modern versions of the Thinking With the People medieval sermons thatJews were forced to listen to in Christian churches, or ?well-meaning? attempts to ?liberate the Jewish community." \We wish to be neither oppressors nor victims, neither heroes nor puppets in someone else?s theology. We wish, in short, to be a normal people. Casey Blake The Compaiz of riticr: 50cm! riticzsm and Politicei Commitment in the liver:- tietia Century by MichaelWalzer. Basic Books, 1988, 288 pp. a famous battle cry against the America that had executed Sacco and Vanzetti, John Dos Passos wrote ?All right we are two nations? (The Big Money). Such a declaration of inde~ pendence is a familiar refrain in the history of modern American radicalism. In subsequent decades, Dos Passos?s sentiments were echoed by celebrants of American pluralism and their critics within the New Left. The historian Richard Hofstadter, describing ?the heartland of America" as ?filled with people who are often fundamentalist in religion, nativist in prejudice, isola- tionist in foreign policy, and conserva- tive in economics," betrayed the not- so?secret contempt for mainstream values that informed much of Kennedy liberalism in the early sixties (flitti? litteliectzmiism in American Life). So did those bitter radicals of the late sixties (including many err-liberals) who raged against and sepa- rated the country neatly into ?pigs? and ?freaks.? A cold, cruel disdain for anything smacking of convention and common sense has too often served as a badge of honor for borh liberal and Casey Blake teaches history at imiimm University. He is currently writing a book on tine culture! criticism of Randolph Boonie, Vim Wka Brooks, ?Waldo Frank. and Lewis Axiom/ford. 102 TIKKUN VOL. 4, NO. 3 leftist critics of American society. To be capable of critical insight, to rise above the platitudes of one's fellows, has meant being distanced from the dominant culture. In this view, social criticism requires a truly dispassionate elite?a vanguard party, perhaps; or a professional corps of experts, an avant- garde, or a school of critical theorists possessed of superior insights and a vocabulary unavailable to ordinary citi- zens. Or it requires the heroism of a lone rebel, armed only with the wea- pons of criticism, who risks everything in a desperate private shoot-out with the authorities. Michael \Valzer?s new book, The Company of Critics, is aimed direcrly at challenging these assumptions. For Walzer, both elitisr condemnation and romantic rebellion obscure the way effective social criticism actually works in the twentieth century. Social critics succeed, he argues, only when they speak with their fellow citizens in a commonly understood moral language. The best criticism articulates the shared aspirations and grievances of people even as it painfully notes their short- comings. ?We criticize our society just as we criticize our friends,? \?Ualzer writes, ?on the assumption that the terms of the critique, the moral refer- ences, are common." Thus, reading in a \V?alzerian vein, one would say that the crucial passage in Dos Passos?s novel is not the Oft- repeated line about America's ?two nations," but a preceding section that laments: ?America our nation has been beaten by strangers who have turned our language inside out who have taken the clean words our fathers spoke and made them slimy and foul.? Our nation, our language, oar fathers?without this assumption of some shared moral de- cency and democratic heritage uniting Americans, Dos Passos?s grim acknowl? edgment that ?we are two nations" would hold no force. Dos Passos moves us because he speaks as Socrates or the Old Testament prophets did, as a voice of civic conscience that appeals to values that continue to shape many of our private pracrices and that may yet serve to renew our public life. \?Ualzer examines the careers of eleven \Vestern critics, from Julian Benda and Randolph Bourne to Michel Foucault and Breyten Breytenbach, in order to defend a prophetic role for critical intellectuals on the left. His book is not a work in intellectual history or in the sociology Of knowledge. It is rather a personal manifesto, a contribution to the long debate about the social position and function of the critic that assesses how ?general intellectuals" have situated themselves in relation to the moral and political discourses of their contemporaries. From the start, Walzer makes clear his belief that com- mitment tO some kind of local political or moral community is necessary for the practice of social criticism. ?The mOSt attractive picture of the true in- tellectual," Walzer writes, is not ?as the inhabitant of a separate world, the knower of esoteric truths, but as a fellow member of this world who de- votes himself, but with a passion, to the truths we all know." His book is an argument for thinking about moral and political truths as embedded in ?the strucrures and practices of every- day existence." Consequently, The Company ofCr'lr- t'cs deserves to be read alongside Habits of the Heart by Robert Bellah and his aSSOCiates, Jacoby?s The Last lnfe/lectuals, Carol Gilligan?s In a Dif? ferent Voice, Norman Birnbaurn?s The Radical Renewal, and many of the con- tributions to this magazine. It is an example of a growing concern among liberals and leftists about grounding contemporary criticism in a public culture that would promote collecrive moral reasoning. Walzer?s book shares with such writings a broader interest in renewing citizenship as a practice linking individual aspirations and civic obligation, a goal that nor only chal- lenges conventional understandings of the critic?s sodal role but also under- mines many assumptions about what constitutes progressive politics. If one agrees with \Y?alzer that the best criti- cism grows out of what Clifford Geertz calls ?local knowledge" ?or what Wal- zer?s hero, Ignazio Silone, considered ?the ordinary sense of the relations be- tween [oneself] and others, the ordinary sense of rights and duties, the ordinary standards of moral judgement" ?then one has to challenge not only the Enlightenment model of the critic as ?teacher? of the ignorant but also a good deal of conventional progressiv- ism, from Hofstadter?s assumption of the masses! superstitious stupefaction to the left?s condescending complaints about ?false consciousness? and a static ?one-dimensional society." alzer?s antagonists on the left are those who refuse to acknowl- edge their participation in the very communal practices they criticize. They are advocates of an abstract univer- salism who ?miss the texture of moral life? in their blanket condemnation of a social group or an entire society. He is scornful of Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone De Beauvoir, and Herbert Marcuse, whose misanthropic portraits of the French bourgeoisie and the pied noz'r community of French Algeria, ?unliberated? women, and the ?moron- ized" working class of mid-twentieth- century America respectively allow those being described no legitimate response other than silent assent. Ac- cording to these thinkers, the French bourgeoisie and the pied noz'r may undergo a conversion experience and remake themselves as dedicated revolu- tionaries engaged in a war to the death with their own friends and family; women may ?nally free themselves once they accept that ?culture, civilization, and universal values have all been created by men. because men represent universality," as De Beauvoir claimed; and American workers might hold out for salvation from a technical elite cap- able of satisfying the ?real needs" of the population through better tech- nology. But such people may not draw on their own historical experiences, their own conventions, and their own ways of understanding the world in a collective project of which criticism is only a part. They certainly may not speak in their own voices. Soczal crz?tz'cs succeed, W/alzer argues, only when they speak with their fellow citizens in a commonly understood moral language. In the most benign version of the position \Walzer rejects, the one pre- sented in Antonio Gramsci?s Prison Notebooks, Subordinate groups trapped in hegemonic ?common sense? may aspire one day to live without teachers, but, in the meantime, they must take their lessons from those dissident ?tra- ditional intellectuals? who have cast their lot with the Communist party. What unites all such views of the social role of the radical critic is the assump? tion that, at this moment, there can be no productive dialogue with ?the masses,? whose historical situation pro- hibits them from speaking as political 0r moral agents. Even Michel Foucault's calls for local insurrections againsr the disciplinary systems of modern civili- zation founder on this point, insofar as his social theory addresses no com- prehensible antagonist? of a society organized on the basis of total sur- veillance. In Walzer?s analysis, success- ful social criticism cannot take place outside of a public conversation?-that is to say, outside of a polity. It is telling that the very worst thing Walzer can say about Marcuse is that he ?has no faith in the linguistic creativity of the common people.? contrast. the critics Walzer ad- mires?Randolph Bourne, Martin Buber, Ignazio Silone, Albert Camus, George Orwell, and Breyten Breyten- bach generally practice what Gramsci called the ?national-popular? version of criticism, closely connected to the linguistic, moral, and political idioms used by their fellow men and women. They speak to a potential democratic culture immanent in the practices of their society, as in Bourne?s ?trans- national? ideal of a ?Beloved Commu- nity," or they draw on the practical wisdom of their neighbors, as in Silone's evocation of the common decency of the Abruzzi peasants. When they attack their culture, they do so from within, as Buber did when he launched an internalist critique of Zionism and Breytenbach does when he Challenges his fellow Afrikaaners to accept their identity as Africans. \?Ualzer?s endorsement of such so- cially connected criticism leads him to defend Camus and Orwell from their NOW IN PAPERBACK . . The Controversial Last Work of the Noted Israeli Peace Activist w?v?r??fths A?p naturist: I would like to recommend this book is as brash, bold and fresh as [he man who wrote it." Rotem Bar, Philadelphia Inquirer "Essential." Library Journal $8.95 at your bookstore or atoll-free 800-733-3000 BOOKS REVIEWS 103 supposed acquiescence to nationalistic imperatives during wartime. For Wal- zer, Camus's famous refusal to support the FLN during the Algerian \War sig- nifies not capitulation to the colonialist privileges he enjoyed as a member of the pied noir community, but his belief that justice absrracted from bonds of family and friendship is no justice at all. Similarly, Orwell?s I941 expression of his English patriotism, The Lion and (be Uizz'rom, is for Walzer an appeal to a concrete democratic culture em- bodied in the minutiae of English working-class life. Like Bourne in the United States during World War I, Orwell spoke in the early forties for a patriotism of the left that gave the radical critic the opportunity to argue with other Englishmen on the basis of a shared love of land and values that was the very antithesis of a coercive state nationalism. family with the wrong members in control? was how Orwell described England in 1941, in a sentence that captures the spirit of ?antagonistic connection? that \Xlalzer believes essential to Successful social criticism. Clearly, Walzer has more on his mind than the social role of the intel- lectual. The Company ofCrz'tz'c: makes a powerful argument for seeing radical criticism as part of a broader project of deepening and enriching democratic discourse. A defense of what might broadly be called ?populism? emerges time and again in the book, in opposi- tion to the various Strains of Leninism, technocratic elitism, and social dis- tancing Walzer decries. But such a political argument is never made ex- plicit. Aside from urging critics to talk with their contemporaries in the ver- nacular and to appeal to their capa- cities for moral and political reflection on a democratic basis, \Valzer is not clear about how committed intellec- tuals should proceed in the last years of the twentieth century. This omission is especially troubling because, as J. Peter Euben has observed in ?Fanfare for the Common Complaint? (New l?br?e Times Boole Review, Jan. 8, 1989), \Walzer never identifies where he him- self stands or how he locates his own project. At various times, \Valzer di- rectly draws his readers into the project, addressing us as ?you and But whom exacrly is he speaking to? Are ?we? the twentieth-century, social-democratic successors to the ?gentle readers" of 104 TthtUN VOL. 4, N0. 3 the genteel Victorian literary tradition? if so, who is being excluded here, and why? Are ?we? among the ?friends in Jerusalem to whom Walzer dedicates the book and to whom Walzer presum- ably Speaks as an internalist critic of contemporary Zionism? If so, then wouldn?t \?(lalzer?s Israeli friends benefit more from a book that used Buber?s career as a starting point for a con sideration ofthe current state oflsraeli politics? A a practitioner of ?local knowl- edge,? Walzer must situate himself somewhere, and this book suggeSts that he is most at home with Silone, Orwell, and Camus, those exemplars of socially connected criticism who provide the standard by which \?Ualzer judges virtually everyone else he dis- cusses. If \Y?alzer himself has a cultural base, it is here, in the intellectual tradi~ tion that he shares with Irving Howe, his coeditor at Dissent. For someone advocating a ?national-popular" criti- cism, as Walzer does, this is a remark- ably selecr and cosmOpolitan heritage. The conversation \Walzer engages in is one involving other critics, most of whom are Europeans. Like earlier cos? mopolitan intellecruals described by hisrorian David A. Hollinger in In the American Province, Walzer seems more comfortable viewing local cultures ?as repositories for insights and experi- ences that can be drawn upon in the interesrs of a more comprehensive out- look on the world than he is in show- ing how his own intellectual project intersects with a particular set of local conventions. Despite his own inten~ tions, Walzer?s re?ections on the critic's social role are unconnected to any project beyond criticism and unrelated to any speci?c vernacular idiom. One leaves \Valzer's book, as one leaves much of the current discussion of ?community? and ?public culture" on the left these days, with the impression that the public conversation resulting from such recommendations will be short on substance and devoid of the inflections, accents, and of any particular community. It is fine to keep talking, but whom will one talk with, by what means, and in what way? Here, Walzer's hermetic community of critics proves maddeningly abstract and unhelpful. Whatever its appeals to the moral pracrices of local, every- day life, The Company ofCr-r'rrcs never quite leaves the confines of the com- pany store. \Y?alzer?s lack of a concrete cultural or political reference point suggests that the problem of is simply a matter of one?s critical in- tentions. But more than the critic?s own will is required for genuinely democratic conversation to take place. The political arrangements of mo- dern cultural life have made it increas- ingly dif?cult for such a discourse to get Started. Corporate control of the mass media may not involve direct censorship, but it certainly marginalizes writers, artists, musicians, and others who lack the ?nancial means and con- nections necessary for the production and distribution of culture. Unusual and dissenting works rarely reach a large audience. Even if they do. they may have little effect if they remain disrant from the everyday experience of most people. The organization of the workplace since the late nineteenth century has consistently narrowed possibilities for creativity and autonomy on the job, even as it has increased the power of professionals and managers (who are themselves often constrained by cor- porate and bureaucratic hierarchies). Our political culture leaves little room for optimism about the possibilities for democratic conversation either, since politics has taken on the charac- teristics of the corporate advertising campaign. It is an odd conversation, after all, in which one participant insists on speaking through a bullhorn. One reason for this problem is the ascendancy of languages of profes- sional and administrative expertise, which has accompanied the rise of large-scale bureaucratic insritutions. But another reason involves the in- creasingly central role of the university in modern cultural life. \?C/alzer?s book will likely find its widest audience among academics drawn from several disciplines. Given the expansion of the university since 1945, this is a sizable readership, far larger than that of the ?little magazines" of the twenties and thirties. Yet, as Russell Jacoby and other critics argue, the academy?s inclination is to discourage writing like Walzer?s in favor of more specialized publica- tions. This is hardly the terrain for the kind of socially connected criticism \Valzer envisages. These institutional arrangements have exacerbated conflicts over questions of values?what Christopher Lasch has called our ?cultural civil war." It has always been difficult for Americans living in a pluralistic society to reach any kind of consensus about the ends of a good polity or a good life, but the cur- rent divisions within our culture now make it increasingly dif?cult even to hold such discussions, let alone resolve them. One doesn?t have to believe in a torally administered ?one-dimensional society? to realize that the constraints on our cultural citizenship require more than plain speaking from our social critics. Without democratic spaces for public conversation, how can American culture provide the right setting for the type of criticism Walzer advocates? During the twentieth century, discus- sion of public issues has tended to fragment into separate specialized dis- ciplines inaccessible to outsiders. Walzer?s reliance on the tradition of Silone, Orwell, and Camus has an ad- ditional drawback: it deprives him of the opportunity to examine American traditions of radical thought that are particularly appropriate to his enter- BOOK REVIEW prise. Walzer?s theoretical writings are, in many ways, firmly in the American pragmatic tradition. Yet he makes no effort to address that tradition direCtly and ignores the career of John Dewey, the twentieth-century American who best embodies Walzer?s own ideals. Moreover, where, in this brief for the prophetic role of radical intellectuals, are the prophetic voices of Jane Ad- dams, Edmund Wilson, Lewis Mum- ford, Dwight MacDonald, the (Staughton, as well as Robert and Helen}, James Baldwin, or the authors of the Port Huron Statement? By sticking to Silone, Orwell, and Camus, Walzer stays on what is fa- miliar ground for him. European critics of totalitarianism have provided the ethical underpinnings for the social- democratic perspective Dissent has at- ticulated since its founding. Such critics have done for American social demo- crats what Reinhold Niebuhr did for ?realist? liberals in the forties and ?fties. They give a moral dimension to reformism that juSti?es itself in the adminisrrative language of the welfare state rather than in the rhetoric of civic republicanism or Old Testament prophets. Perhaps the American radi? cals I mentioned are in the end too pietistic, too populistic, too libertarian for Walzer?s brand of social democracy. They have less to say about the state as the center of reform activity than they do about the ways in which friendships and associations formed in the church, the school, or the protest movement link the quest for personal meaning to public endeavors. In their insistence that moral and cultural issues are at the heart of a democratic politics, they have embraced positions closer to the ambiguous tradition of radical protest that link Tom Watson to Jesse Jackson than to the rationalist socialism of Olaf Palme and Willy Brandt. The first tradi- tion may be messier, more problematic, than the second. But it cannor be ignored by American social critics committed to the renewal of a demo- cratic discourse. As Dos Passos under- stood, the ?clean words? spoken by our fathers?and our mothers~may sometimes become ?slimy and foul,? but they are in the end the words we must use and try to make our own. Tom Hayden: The Waning of a Politics of Vision Harold Jacobs Reunion: A Memoir by Tom Hayden. Random House, 1988, 539 pp. A rticulate, intelligent, courageous, committed, energetic, and charis~ matic, Tom Hayden was the radical intellectual who, as a result of his leadership abilities, stood out among all his peers in the sixties. The publica- tion of Reunion: A Memoir; a book he had been thinking about writing for over a decade, has been a long-awaited event for all those who have an interest in him as a political ?gure or in the Harold jacobr is a professor ofsociofogv at Part: and is the editor of the book Weatherman (Rarirpan?s Press, 1971). New Left itself. While his recent sepa- ration from Jane Fonda, much like his March 1989 introduction of legislation to create a California Holocaust Com- mission, guarantees that he will remain a mass-media figure, Hayden?s future significance transcends the hype: he is one of the few veterans of the move- ment against the Vietnam War who remains capable of playing a national leadership role in a revived left during the coming decade. It is, therefore, all the more important to understand his current attempts to distance himself from the New Left which he did so much to shape. Hayden was at the cutting edge of the action during the pivotal moments of the movement?s history. A brief synopsis of his political career high- lights his presence through all the twists and turns of the New Left?s evolution. He was active in the South during the early civil rights struggle; he was elected president of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) in 1962 and drafted the organization?s famous manifesto, the Port Huron Statement; he was a com- munity organizer in the Newark ghetto from 1964 to 1967; he was among the first New Leftists to travel to North Vietnam and became a nation? ally known antiwar spokesman; he planned and helped lead the demon- strations at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago in 1968 and 105