Another interesting example is Fougeret de Monbron, who published his travel memories under the title Le Cosmopolite ou le Citoyen du Monde (London, 1753). Again, appearances are deceptive. His cosmopolitan attitude is aesthetic and individualistic rather than reflective. He does not offer a theory, but resembles the contemporary frequent traveller or tourist who is prejudiced and uncritical of himself. ‘Some would perhaps not call him a cosmopolitan at all, because he permanently uses his own subject as the norm, and notes what is different from his habits without reflecting on himself.’26
Finally, there is the confusing example of Kant. He is usually considered to be a cosmopolitan, because of his moral universalism, his scathing criticism of European colonialism and his advocacy of a world government. On the other hand, there are openly racist statements, which simply do not go together with Kant’s cosmopolitan ‘disposition’ or Gesinnung elsewhere.27 These examples suggest that a pluralistic model of cosmopolitanisms is more appropriate. There is no ‘typical form’ of cosmopolitanism, the ‘cosmopolitan Enlightenment’ is most likely a myth, and the diverse forms of cosmopolitanisms have different functions in the discourses as well.28
I want to continue with two glaring examples of historical distortion. Arguing that the United States is on the way to become a worldwide empire, Massimo La Torre ends his essay on ‘Global citizenship’ (2005) with a suggestion how it could preserve its republican tradition. The solution is to ‘take the Ancient Romans’ great example and grant American nationality to all members of the globalized world community’. This way the US could buy the world’s ‘everlasting gratitude’.29 If we leave aside the political aspect of the demand and focus on its historical dimension, we quickly find that the reference to the Constitutio Antoniania of 212 is completely mistaken. It is true that the Antonine Constitution of Emperor Caracalla granted all free inhabitants of the Roman Empire full citizenship. However, it is hard to see what was ‘great’ about this law, and it is even more difficult to detect any cosmopolitan dimension. In the first place, the law conveniently widened the circle of subjects who had to pay inheritance tax (applicable only to full citizens). By the beginning of the third century, the status of Roman citizenship had already been devalued by constantly extending the number of recipients. On top of that, the distinction between Roman citizens and free non-citizens had been eroded, while new class distinctions had been set up.30 It is hard to see how the Antonine Constitution should serve as an example or point of reference for contemporary conceptions of world citizenship espoused by David Held and others.
I am highly critical of cleansing operations which seem to be at work in several contemporary cosmopolitan discourses. There is a certain tendency to distinguish ‘true’ cosmopolitanism from allegedly ‘degenerated’ forms, or inconvenient evidence is simply ignored. This brings me to my second example. For a long time, Hugo Grotius has been revered as the founding father of modern international law and, implicitly, as a cosmopolitan pacifist. This might be the main reason why Martha Nussbaum has offered a surprisingly rose-tinted view on Grotius. Her reference to Grotian ‘international society’ is reminiscent of Hersch Lauterpacht. Grotius is the knight in shining armour. As a moral philosopher, he developed a progressive theory of ‘humanitarian intervention’, influenced Kant, and even turned into a forerunner of Nussbaum’s own capabilities approach. As a cosmopolitan, he believed ‘that all human beings form part of a single moral community’.31 The context of the article was Bush’s invasion of Iraq in 2003. While I am sympathetic to the view that the invasion violated the UN Charter and international law, I believe that Nussbaum simply picked the wrong author. Recent scholarship has convincingly shown that Grotius is an emperor who has no clothes. Nussbaum ignores the pragmatic, bellicose and imperialist dimension of Grotius’ legal thinking (see the following chapter). It is mistaken to refer to ‘the Grotian/Kantian vision’, since Grotian and Kantian international legal theories have little in common (Chapter 4).
I believe that Nussbaum’s distortions point to a deeper problem. She has also offered an interpretation of Cynic and Stoic cosmopolitanism which is highly dubious as well. For instance, Nussbaum repeatedly refers to the Stoic idea of a moral community of equal human beings all over the globe, or describes Cicero as a pacifist.32 This is at variance with textual evidence. Some scholars claim that there might be no positive content at all to the Cynic Diogenes’ famous and often-quoted claim: ‘I am a citizen of the cosmos.’ Sellars asserts that Diogenes aimed at an independent, personal ethic directed towards happiness or eudaimonia rather than endorsing the idea of human fellowship. Zeno’s Republic probably proposed an isolated and elitist community of intellectuals or sages, where the non-wise were considered sub-human. Finally, Roman Stoicism was definitely rather lenient towards Roman patriotism (to say the least), and formed an uneasy alliance with (not always benevolent) Roman imperialism.33 All this suggests that it is very problematical to subscribe to Nussbaum’s approach, which she describes in one essay as follows: ‘to begin writing a different chapter in the history of our classical heritage, one from which I think we can derive lessons of direct political worth.’34 Can we really ‘derive lessons’ from ancient authors whose scant texts are open to divergent interpretations? Are not the lessons we have to derive from Grotius’ work completely different from Nussbaum’s? I think we must keep this problem in mind when we start digging in the past ‘with a cosmopolitan purpose’, to use Kant’s phrase.
The concept and forms of cosmopolitanisms
I have already pointed out that the term ‘cosmopolitanism’ often remains quite vague in current debates and leads to sweeping generalizations. We can define cosmopolitanism as the belief or the theory that all humans, regardless of race, gender, religion or political affiliation, belong to, or should belong to, one single community. Cosmopolitanism’s two basic tenets are: its reach is global in scope, all humans belong to this community. Second, this commonwealth should be cultivated, for instance, by trying to understand cultures different from one’s own or – see Richard Price – by mutual trade and commerce.35
We can flesh out the concept if we compare cosmopolitanism with related webs of belief, theories or its ‘enemies’. Cosmopolitanism has to be distinguished from forms of regionalism such as patriotism, nationalism or Europeanism. A pro-European attitude, for instance, is sometimes mistaken for a cosmopolitan attitude. The Abbé de Saint-Pierre and his focus on the idea of European unity is a case in point (see the beginning of Chapter 3). Cosmopolitanism is at odds with political realism and statism, and might conflict with liberalism or civic republicanism. It does not easily go together with communitarianism.36
We can distinguish between different types or forms of cosmopolitanisms.37 The core idea of human rights (or moral) cosmopolitanism is that there are universal rights and obligations, and these should not be limited in scope, that is, they should be applied to all human beings. For instance, moral cosmopolitans argue that we have a duty to help strangers who are in need or suffering, or that we should promote basic human rights everywhere. Moral cosmopolitanism usually includes an element of normative universalism: all humans enjoy equal moral status, and they share certain essential features. Thomas Pogge refers to the main features