Chapter 9: Normative Citizenship
“We rent, we don’t buy” Rabbi Zushi Silberstein
“The role of the Jewish citizen is to take a good system and give it a soul”
Menachem M. Schneerson (The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
Are Lubavitchers good citizens? There are two theoretical issues related to normative citizenship. The first has to do with the virtues of democratic citizens; what are they and how do we foster them? The second has to do with the loyalties or allegiances of democratic citizens; does democracy require patriots?
The first issue is about capacities and skills; the second is about sentiments and identity. One could imagine two axes. On the vertical we might arrange “high” citizenship skills against “low” citizenship skills and on the horizontal we might arrange “particular” or “local” loyalties against “universal” or “cosmopolitan” loyalties. That done, we might attempt to locate Lubavitchers on the “good citizenship” scale in terms of their sentiments and capacities. But the question of whether or not Lubavitchers (or any of us) make good democratic citizens would not be resolved because we do not know, as a society, what it means to behave as a good citizen or even if democracy requires skilled and patriotic citizens.
Democratic Virtues and Skills
In this section we will discuss several possible models of citizenship and see whether any of them can accommodate the Lubavitcher Chassidim. When we speak of citizenship, it will be in terms of the normative, rather than legal definition, that is "citizenship as a desirable activity".1 The focus will not be on the classic issues of rights and freedoms, but on the dimension of duties, loyalties, rules, virtues and responsibilities of citizenship. The latter issue has taken on a new sense of urgency in the scholarly literature as concern for the stability of democratic institutions is expressed in terms of whether we are producing citizens with sufficient competence and commitment to keep these institutions afloat.
Politicians and social scientists are sounding the alarm over the disintegration of our families, schools, churches, and civic organizations that are supposed to be the incubators of democratic behaviors and norms. The classical laissez-faire approach to citizen virtues has produced what would rate as “low” citizens on our scale. We can no longer be confident that individuals motivated by self-interest, alone, will function, in Robert Dahl’s terms as “good enough” citizens2. The "free rider" citizen may not expend the energy necessary to get to the polls if there does not appear to him to be a personal payoff. We could leave our democratic institutions in the hands of those citizens who are interested in politics, but the decline in voter turnout has been so precipitous that it raises the possibility that the outcome of our elections may not even reflect the majority’s preference. This would not satisfy even the minimalist definition of democracy for most political theorists. Democracy may be a low-maintenance regime compared to others, but it is not a no-maintenance one.
This recognition has led to a revival in some circles of the classical republican model of citizenship, and attempts to reconcile this more demanding model of public life with the liberal model emphasizing privacy and individualism. Few would return to the Greek ideal, but they are closer to the “high” citizenship end of our spectrum represented by Pericles' view that private concerns be made subordinate to public ones.3 It would be difficult to convince modern citizens that the public life is superior to the private. Our attachment to our private lives may be “a result not of the impoverishment of public life but the enrichment of private life”. 4 Whatever the causes and consequences of the contemporary political malaise, public spiritedness is not the defining characteristic of contemporary democratic citizens.
Meanwhile, the relative lack of political mobilization and intensity may account for the relative civil peace that Americans and Canadians have enjoyed. In previous eras, it was not political passivity, but excessive mobilization of diverse factions that posed the greatest challenge to both rulers and political theorists. A remedy for incessant strife was found through the adoption of new civic virtues: toleration and civility. Good citizenship, redefined as civility, demanded that individuals keep their moral and religious convictions to themselves. The government would maintain an aura of neutrality toward people's private commitments, and it would be the role of private institutions like church and family to see to moral training of citizens.
The market, against the backdrop of private institutions and associations that provided moral tutelage, could be amoral, doing the job of coordinating private interests so that the greatest good for the greatest number resulted, with a minimum of governmental interference or supervision of individual activities. But it wasn't long before it became clear that the market could not direct self-interest in completely constructive ways. As private institutions such as family and church began to lose their authority over the individual, and as immigrants from diverse backgrounds began to arrive in force, the public schools became the vehicle for inculcating the moral and civic values of a unified American culture.
The influence of associations, be they churches, families, unions, charitable organizations, or Putnam's bowling leagues and bird watching clubs certainly help foster democratic values and behaviors. They continue to serve as "seed beds of civic virtue". Yet, their influence is indirect and passive. Moreover, not all associations are internally democratic or liberal. What is the mechanism whereby they serve a civic function? Would the Lubavitcher community qualify, in this case, as a passive transmitter of civic virtues? If it fails, would not most of the associations of civil society, if scrutinized, also fail the “structure and values” test? For instance, the most prevalent form of association, the family, has been characterized by Okin as "a school of despotism". Perhaps we demand too much of these groups. If the associations and groups that make up our society are not necessarily reliable cradles of democracy, then, as many theorists are convinced, the state must take a more direct and active role in inculcating the necessary skills and virtues of democratic citizenship. They contend that democracy can not be expected to chug along, indifferent to the underlying political culture, or private values of its citizens. Reviving the old common school tradition of deliberate civic education is one proposed remedy for our current civic malaise.
Theorists such as William Galston, Richard Rorty, Ben Barber, Amitai Etzioni and Amy Gutmann contend that the democratic state can infuse its future citizens with common purposes and civic virtues through civic education. The Character Education Partnership of 1992 is an example of such an initiative. Congress has funded several character education pilot programs in the schools to date. The problem is that there is no obvious consensus as to what virtues and character traits are required of the democratic citizen. Here, any list, no matter how abstract and general, is likely to run afoul of some culture or religion. Whatever consensus there might have been as to what constituted our common culture broke apart by the 1960s.
In fact, the idea of cultural consensus was probably always an illusion. While the original intent behind the Common School Movement was to forge a unified national identity and public philosophy, focusing on patriotism, morality, discipline, self-restraint, and assimilation or "Americanization", well before the turn of the century the Catholic Church broke ranks with the strongly Protestant overtones of the program and opted out of the public school system by creating a parallel private system.
Some advocates of civic education, undaunted by the multiplicity of moral and religious views in our society, insist that a value-free curriculum can be developed which focuses on the structure and function of our political institutions. Others insist that the core curriculum must inculcate specific liberal values. Among them are often included toleration and respect for law and the equal rights of others. These are arguably critical to civil peace and coexistence, as well as democratic politics. William Galston outlines four categories of citizen virtues: 1) general virtues of law-abidingness and loyalty; 2) social virtues such as independence and open-mindedness; 3) economic virtues such as a work ethic, the ability to delay gratification, and the ability to adapt to technological changes; and 4) political virtues including respect for the rights of others, willingness to demand only those social services that can be paid for, the ability to evaluate the performance of elected officials, and willingness to engage in public discourse.5 These are arguably uncontroversially salutary for society.
Other theorists raise the hurdle for citizen competence by demanding that the democratic citizen possess "critical thinking skills". A citizen, according to their definition, is a "democratic deliberator". The duty to prepare children for their role as citizen of the state trumps even the parental right of free exercise of their religion, as well as their rights over their children. 6 Critical rationality, by definition, means more than open-mindedness, clear-headedness, or common sense. It demands that one be willing to question all received knowledge; ready to step outside of his or her world of meaning and treat its norms, values and truth claims as provisional and relative. This is a more controversial demand, and is challenged by people who do not believe that the skeptical stance is a requirement of democratic deliberation. In asserting that responsible participation in the political process requires the exercise of a particular form of rationality that is both "critical" and "autonomous", liberal reason is made to appear synonymous with democratic reason.
If only liberals are judged competent to deliberate about politics, then citizens who do not adhere to the liberal mode of reasoning might be deemed incompetent to participate. While no one has suggested disqualifying non-liberal voters, it has certainly been suggested that a curriculum be formulated which has, as a component, civic education and citizenship skills. This education, more than family upbringing or the exercise of individual conscience, becomes the vehicle for democratic character formation.
According to Maya Stolzenberg, there are basically three strands of liberal theory to be found in the contemporary literature, each with a corresponding model of citizenship: liberal individualism, civic republicanism, and communitarianism. Liberalism and civic republicanism converge in accepting liberal principles as civic virtues and embracing as a civic good, the use of education as a method of inculcating liberal values. They see the schools as playing an essential role in socializing future citizens into the "critical analytical" mode of thought. While communitarians deplore what civic republicans advocate, that is, the assimilative impact of exposure to liberal culture and values, nonetheless, they accept most of the principles of civic education enunciated by liberals.
Stolzenberg finds it ironic that liberal individualism, civic republicanism and Communitarianism all share the same disposition to treat the principle of critical rationality, uncertainty and subjectivism as axiomatic. Accordingly, she sees liberal education as a form of indoctrination. By denying that political deliberation may require no more than the sort of common sense that most people possess, and by claiming that citizens must be taught a special form of reasoning which happens to support or conform to liberal premises, groups like the Chassidim can be defined as bad, or at least, inadequate citizens.
Diversity and Citizenship
Liberalism may be unable to account for society's "deep diversity"7 Cultural and normative diversity is likely to produce different views about what constitutes good citizenship, many of them potentially constructive from a democratic standpoint. It is argued by some that diversity is the only principled formula on which the state can remain united. But the liberal model erects a transcendent ideal that is supposed to supersede particular differences and group affiliations. This ideal, has in practice, excluded groups not willing to adopt the general point of view. These groups are then condemned by the majority as non-rational. Women and, in this case, Lubavitchers might serve as examples. Something akin to Young’s model of "differentiated citizenship" might be adopted if not, as Young might want, to ameliorate past exclusion and under-representation, but if only to grant legitimacy to diverse concepts of citizenship. The most radical version of this model understands the state as obliged to serve particularistic identities of subgroups, rather than the other way around. Minorities and immigrants would be under no reciprocal obligation to conform to a national political identity.8 Respecting diversity would be not only a chief virtue of the liberal state, but its obligation. 9Our cultural identities would be understood to co-exist in a nesting fashion with our identity as citizens.
But other theorists worry that such a model of citizenship might fragment the polity into an aggregate of sub-national ghettoes and create a "politics of grievance" in which groups compete for entitlements and reparations on the basis of shared victimization at the hands of the majority.10 Will Kymlicka attempts to reconcile political integration and social pluralism using three categories of group rights (reflecting Canada's situation) The first would offer disadvantaged groups special representation, the second would offer multicultural rights for immigrant and religious groups, and the third, under rare conditions, would grant political autonomy and self-governing powers to geographically concentrated national minorities, such as native tribes or the Quebecois.
According to Kymlicka, the consequences of this form of differentiated citizenship would actually be integrative rather than disintegrative, because most individuals, especially those covered under the second category, would want to use their special rights in order to assimilate politically and economically. He does not worry that Canadian identity will be squeezed out by Anglo or French or native or immigrant identities. He is willing to grant sub-national minorities a fair amount of latitude, and even to use state resources to bolster the cohesion of minorities, giving them roughly equal chances at survival with other groups, with the proviso that they conform to liberal norms in their internal practices.
Michael Walzer declares himself to be sympathetic to the vision of a pluralistic civil society, but in practical terms, the state and the demands of citizenship must take precedence over more local loyalties. Multiple identities must all be encompassed within the bounds of citizenship.11 All individuals are called upon to conform to a model of civic or national political unity to which parochial ethnic, religious and cultural allegiances must be subordinated. This unified political allegiance to the Constitution arguably will not do any significant damage to other important identities and loyalties they may cherish.12 Patriotism: the Sentiment of Citizenship
In addition to defining democratic citizenship in terms of a set of practical skills and behaviors, some theorists contend that democratic citizenship requires a set of sentiments, particularly, the willingness to subordinate all loyalties and allegiances to the state. Does democracy require patriots? The pendulum has swung historically between two ends of the spectrum: particular, local loyalties versus universal, cosmopolitan loyalties. In the contemporary debate, Martha Nussbaum argues in favor of educating American students to be “world citizens”, while Richard Rorty argues for a renewal national pride.13 This debate echoes the classical tension between the loyalty of Pericles to the polis and the loyalty of Diogenes to the world. In Socrates’ relationship to Athens, his cosmopolitan loyalty to philosophy is pitted against his local loyalty to the polis. In the case of the fictional relationship of Antigone to Thebes, the tension is between loyalty to the polis and loyalty to her particular family.
Centuries later, the Enlightenment project fostered a universal outlook, culminating in the ultimate universalizing philosophy of Marxism. The dismal collectivity that it produced has been countered by revivals of nationalism, many of them virulent and insidious. Patriotism has its ugly side: chauvinism and intolerance. Is the alternative a “healthy” form of patriotism or is it cosmopolitanism? Perhaps we should place our primary allegiance with something closer to home than the world or the state. Where should a democratic citizen locate himself on the spectrum of loyalties? What should a citizen do with her other loyalties? Should we arrange our allegiances hierarchically, or in concentric circles or like a nesting doll? If patriotism is a natural sentiment necessary for good citizenship, how does it rank against our other natural loyalties? Is it the case, as Kohlberg suggested, that more abstract and universal attachments are of a higher moral order than more particular or concrete attachments?
The question of where we should locate ourselves on the spectrum of loyalties, from local to universal ultimately yields no logically satisfying answer. If universalizing moral reason leads us ever outward, beyond the boundaries of local attachments, why stop at the nation state? Why not cast ourselves as world citizens? The contrary also holds. If our moral reasoning leads us in the other direction on the continuum, again, why stop at the nation state? Why not bestow our highest loyalty on some sub-national unit like clan, family, or finally, the atomistic self? In the post-modern world this may be the most logical repository of our loyalty.
In Favor of the “low” citizen
Not all theorists share the premise that something is terribly wrong with the behavior or sentiments of contemporary citizens. They feel that the urgent warnings that the political sky is falling are overwrought and exaggerated. They see no reason to impose a “supercharged” model of civic virtue on contemporary citizens. Richard Flathman draws a distinction between two models of citizenship: "high" and "low". "Low" citizenship corresponds to the "bourgeois" and "high" to the "citoyen". According to the "low" model of citizenship, the individual looks after his own needs and interests and requires little from the state except the enforcement of laws and contracts in order to maintain the environment of free transactions and exchanges. The "high" model of citizenship is closer to the classical ideal associated with Pericles, Aristotle, and Rousseau. Here, citizens find their fullest gratification when engaged in the business of the polis. Flathman sees the revival of normative theorizing about citizenship as a throwback to this tradition.
Unlike the civic republicans and communitarians, Flathman rejects the "high" model of citizenship. His worry is not that particularistic identities or loyalties will scuttle a common political identity. Nor does he worry that incompetent citizens will fail to deliberate rationally about political issues and candidates, and thereby sink the polity. He worries about the revival of citizen virtues of the "high" sort because these virtues encourage citizens to identify too strongly with the authority. He fears strong government more than he fears poor citizenship; or else he defines good citizenship as requiring suspicion of authority. Rousseauian citizens come dangerously close to the Jacobin or totalitarian model in which individuals are stripped of any other identity besides that of public citizen. Citizens who are too virtuous, too good and too public may be a greater danger than today’s typical, merely adequate citizen.14 Religion and Citizenship
Given his conception of the ideal citizen, it is no accident that Rousseau saw religion as a potential threat to the social unity he sought. He argued for harnessing religious sentiments to public purposes in the form of a single, state regulated “civic religion”. Religious sentiment necessarily competes with patriotism because the religious person is, ultimately, a citizen of the “City of G-d”. Spiritual citizenship, unlike physical citizenship, obviously cuts across territorial boundaries. While spiritual citizenship does not preclude patriotism, the state is revealed as contingent. The traditional “wandering Jew” has been used historically, as the stereotypic antithesis of patriotism; the ultimate, rootless cosmopolitan. He was the recipient of the universal law that went forth from Zion, and he went forth, as well. Sojourning in many lands, he remained the quintessential outsider, always in physical and spiritual diaspora. While it is true that according to Jewish thought, any excessive attachment to tangible things or entities runs the risk of violating the prohibition against “avodah zarah”, or idolatry, nothing in Jewish thought precludes local commitments or patriotism.
Judaism, patriotism and cosmopolitanism are not at odds if they are properly arranged. According to the sage Hillel, the self is the starting point of natural attachments. He said that first one must be for himself. But if he is only for himself, he is a moral failure. One must proceed outward from the self in order to be a moral person. Similarly, the account of the creation of Adam and Eve provides a model for marriage as a bridge from wife to husband, and than from family outward to the community and the world. The first attachments and loyalties are immediate, concrete, particular, and close to home. Local attachments are the prerequisite for being able to reach out to more distant and abstract places.
There are a variety of principled allegiances that are capable of coexisting, rather than competing. We have a primary residence, but many homes. Torah lays claim to a Jew’s ultimate loyalty, but it is commonly held that if one were to live according to Torah law, one would simultaneously be a good person, a good Jew, a good neighbor and a good citizen.
Lubavitchers as Citizens
Lubavitchers are very much like other citizens in many respects. They are tax paying, law-abiding members of the community. They have a higher rate of voter turnout than the general public, and they have gone beyond electing sympathetic representatives, to becoming candidates for local political positions. In addition, Lubavitchers, like other Chassidim achieve the kind of communal solidarity and self-help that democrats ought to find admirable. Yet, they are also different in many ways from mainstream citizens. These are people who regard themselves as in exile. Exile, in Chassidic thought, has both a spiritual and territorial dimension. Diaspora means that Judaism had to take on a supra-territorial aspect if it was to survive. Bereft of a physical homeland, the Torah became the spiritual homeland that has held together the communal structure even in the absence of the physical borders and means of coercion exercised by true political entities.
Living a Torah life is the meaning a Lubavitcher attaches to freedom. That is why, ironically, a hospitable culture may be as dangerous as a hostile one. Physical exile is less of a problem than spiritual exile, meaning exile from his true nature and from his heritage, which occurs through assimilation. The Chossid can not function as a Jew outside of his community. He transforms his neighborhood into sacred space, where private religious observances spill over into the streets. It is simply impossible for religion to be restricted to the private sphere. To be stripped of membership in his community is to be stripped of identity and self. Assimilation would make his exile total. Because Lubavitchers define self and community, and the whole purpose of life in a distinctive way, it is no surprise that their view of citizenship is distinctive, as well.
The physical place is always seen as temporary and provisional, even when it is comfortable and welcoming. But if he is living according to Torah values, then he is not living in spiritual exile, he is merely living, for the time being, in a foreign country, hopefully a friendly one. This is because all countries are by definition, foreign. Lubavitchers appreciate liberal democracies because, although the values are alien, and despite the threat of assimilation, the net gain over other regimes, in terms of the ability to live a Jewish life without impediment, is considerable. Canadian and American Lubavitchers are fully cognizant that they live in a “country of kindness” and feel that they reciprocate with good citizenship.
Lubavitchers do not conform perfectly to the liberal, communitarian or civic republican models. They are vexing to theorists not because they withdraw from politics, but because they are politically active. It is feared that they are injecting their alien, non-liberal values and political reasoning into the system, creating a threat to our democratic institutions. Yet, in a system in which most citizens view themselves primarily in their roles as taxpayers and consumers, and in which many citizens hold illiberal views such as racism, sexism and homophobia, and in which interest groups are free to lobby for everything from guns to tobacco, why be concerned with groups like Lubavitch?
They engage in political activity for many of the same reasons that other citizens do. They care about their political leader's skills, character, and ability to represent their constituents' interests with sympathy and accuracy. They love to tell deprecatory political jokes, just like their neighbors. For the most part, just as the vast majority of citizens, their concerns are local: the crack in the sidewalk, local garbage pick-up, neighborhood security and safety, school funding, and the like.
If Lubavitchers participate more in politics why wouldn't they be considered model citizens, instead of being vilified as unhealthy for democracy? After all, unlike the Montana Militia or the Branch Davidians with which they have been grouped, no Chassidim have been known to stockpile weapons. They do not spread a message of hate for other races or religions; They do not commit violent crimes. Lubavitchers do not foment revolution, nor do they encourage disobedience to the law or disrespect toward the Constitution.
The complaints against Lubavitch voiced by liberal political theorists fall into three general categories: 1. Lubavitch is not internally structured along democratic lines, 2. Lubavitchers do not share society’s liberal values, and 3. the political activism of Lubavitchers is aimed at reinforcing their group solidarity, insularity, and autonomy. These three alleged shortcomings lead to the conclusion that Lubavitcher citizens do not serve democratic purposes.
The first complaint, that Lubavitch is not democratically structured is difficult to assess. If anything, Lubavitch, which is a loosely and non-hierarchically organized community with no officially recognized leadership, may be suffering from excessive democracy, even to the point of anarchy. Rabbi Manis Friedman, one of the most public and widely recognized figures in the Lubavitch community, feels that this extreme democracy is a political liability.15 Each community and each ChaBad House is quite independent in terms of decision-making and fundraising. Each year there are several inclusive conventions in which Lubavitchers make their preferences known and discuss the direction that the movement should take, but there are no formal voting procedures and no formal elections. While it is alleged that women have no part in these discussions, in fact, women have separate conventions in which their preferences and agenda items are decided upon. But again, there is no formal mechanism for registering member preferences. The outcome, in terms of policy statements and guidelines, seems to be arrived at by consensus. What becomes of dissenting opinions is hard to ascertain.
The second complaint, that Lubavitchers do not share liberal values is partly on the mark. Lubavitchers, as individuals, tend not to behave as “rational maximizers”. They also accept a sexually circumscribed division of labor and roles that in public life, limit the interaction between men and women. More disturbing to liberal theorists is the respect that Lubavitchers afford their Rebbe, even after his death. His leadership conforms roughly to Weber's model of charismatic leadership, which is seen as a throwback by its critics to pre-Enlightenment, pre-rational forms of social organization and reason.
The third complaint is that Lubavitchers pursue the political objectives of the group, rather than pursuing some more refined democratic purpose, and that these political objectives are really driven by theological goals, in violation of the principle of shared public reason. If Lubavitchers allow their foundational beliefs to influence their political judgment, and reciprocally use their political judgment to protect their foundational beliefs, how much more is this an abuse of democratic citizenship than using one's vote to secure economic and material goods?
It is no mystery why Lubavitchers appear to vote as a bloc. Part of it is simply a misperception based on critics’ expectations rather than concrete exit polls. When Lubavitchers do vote the same, it is not because they are incapable of deliberating independently, and it is not because they get the word from above. In fact, most Lubavitchers told me that they discuss politics and read the papers, and then decide how to vote, just as other citizens do. It is no surprise that people who share values, live in close proximity, and most importantly, share concrete interests, would tend to vote the same way. Many American husbands and wives often do, without raising suspicions. In fact, the last presidential election split the Lubavitch community’s vote, indicating that there is more variation and more independence of political opinion than critics have been willing to acknowledge.
In short, the stringent, high-hurdle standard of citizenship probably can not be met by the vast majority of American or Canadian citizens, religious or otherwise. Much of the information we have about how the average citizen formulates his or her preferences suggests that voting is often irrationally determined by factors unrelated to politics, such as the candidate's personality or physical appearance. While there may not be a host of Pericles in their ranks, against the backdrop of the average American or Canadian voter, Lubavitchers come off as solid citizens.
Most importantly, despite their distinctive "comprehensive conception", Lubavitchers really do adhere to Rawls' model of fair play, respect for procedures and the rights and equality of other citizens. In short, they by and large adhere to his "political conception" of justice. Lubavitchers play by the rules, and allow other citizens to do the same. They accept the outcomes of elections or legal proceedings with equanimity. They pursue their rights within the parameters set out by the Constitution. If this isn't good or at least adequate citizenship, what is?
Recognizing that some of the antipathy expressed toward religious enclaves actually expresses the clash of comprehensive moral doctrines might ease some of the tension. But liberalism is the dominant ideology. Its adherents are often unaware of, or deny its non-neutrality. It is probably in the nature of hegemonic ideologies to strive to suppress both ends of the loyalty spectrum: particularistic, sub-national loyalties and cosmopolitan, supra-national loyalties, accusing both of being incompatible with good, (patriotic) citizenship.
1 Will Kymlicka and Wayne Norman, “The Return of the Citizen: A Survey of Recent Work on Citizenship Theory” Ethics 104 (January 1994) pp352-381
2 Robert Dahl, “Participation and the Problem of Civic Understanding” in Etzioni Amitai, Rightsand the Common Good, (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1995) pp261-270
3 Pericles’ Funeral Oration , Thucydides Peloponnesian War Book 2:34-36
4 Kymlicka and Norman p. 362
5 Galston, William, Liberal Purposes: Goods, Virtues, and Diversity in the Liberal State (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991)
6 Richard J. Arneson and Ian Shapiro, “Democratic Autonomy and religious Freedom: A Critique of Wisconsin v. Yoder in Shapiro, Ian and Hardin, Russell, eds., Political Order, Nomos; 38 (New York: New York University Press, 1996)
7 Gutmann, Amy, ed., Charles Taylor and Multiculturalism and the Politics of Recognition (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1992)
8 Bhikhu Parekh, cited in, Beiner, Ronald, ed., Theorizing Citizenship, (Albany: State University of New York, 1995
9 Vernon van Dyke, “Justice as fairness: For Groups?” American Political Science Review vol 69 (!975) pp 607-614 and John Tomasi, “Kymlicka, Liberalism, and Respect for Cultural Minorities” Ethics 105 (April 1995) pp580-603