particular that, as such, officials should not unionise), it is the idea of society
that runs deeper into his work, from *The Division of Labour in Society* to *The
Elementary Forms*, as well as that of Mauss with *The Gift* or *The Nation*.

If the pragmatic sociology of Boltanski and Thévenot regenerates sociology
by expanding perspectives beyond nostalgia for the state, we have nevertheless
stopped in midstream. Certainly, Boltanski and Thévenot are aware of what
is at stake, when they point to the need for international comparisons. Their
typification of worlds indeed depends on a given social totality, as we see in
the choice made by Boltanski and Thévenot of referring to authors who, all
Western, are supposedly the depositaries of a vein of justification, in relative
contrast to a preponderance of the domestic logic in Russia and the merchant
logic in the United States of America (Boltanski & Thévenot, 2022). However, if
this is the case, it means that a more advanced comparison, resolutely anthro-
pological, would burst their model. Therefore, it becomes eventually necessary
to make the 'whole' appear as totality, in other words, as the society which
'holds together' the principles of justice. This program, already perceived by
Boltanski and Thévenot through the idea of 'historical sedimentation', must
be extended. We propose to do so by assuming the socialist ideal, more pre-
cisely the critical republican ideal, while signalling towards cosmopolitanism
(Erez & Laborde, 2020).

5 Sociological Holism and Comparative Education

Let us clarify the link between a socialist perspective and critical republicanism. According to Karsenti and Lemieux, the socialist ideal is indeed an ideology, but with a particular status, clear of the circular dynamics that oppose liberals and conservatives. The socialist ideal must indeed be understood, according to these authors, as a reaction to what is the conservative reaction. The latter being worried about the effects of a nominalist liberalism, which tends to grant existence, as in Margaret Thatcher's famous sentence of 1987,¹ to individuals and families but not to society. It is here that a connection can be made with critical republicanism, that of Cécile Laborde in particular: it is socialist in the sense that it constitutes a reaction to the conservative reaction of Dominique Schnapper and Catherine Kintzler. Essentially, Laborde shares with these 'republican' authors a number of assumptions relating to the value of moral individualism in its egalitarian component. But, unlike Schnapper and Kintzler, she takes fully into account the progress of modernity, which means that the republican ideal, in France and beyond, should be adapted to these new conditions in order to remain faithful to itself.
particular that, as such, officials should not unionise), it is the idea of society
that runs deeper into his work, from *The Division of Labour in Society* to *The
Elementary Forms*, as well as that of Mauss with *The Gift* or *The Nation*.

If the pragmatic sociology of Boltanski and Thévenot regenerates sociology
by expanding perspectives beyond nostalgia for the state, we have nevertheless
stopped in midstream. Certainly, Boltanski and Thévenot are aware of what
is at stake, when they point to the need for international comparisons. Their
typification of worlds indeed depends on a given social totality, as we see in
the choice made by Boltanski and Thévenot of referring to authors who, all
Western, are supposedly the depositaries of a vein of justification, in relative
contrast to a preponderance of the domestic logic in Russia and the merchant
logic in the United States of America (Boltanski & Thévenot, 2022). However, if
this is the case, it means that a more advanced comparison, resolutely anthro-
pological, would burst their model. Therefore, it becomes eventually necessary
to make the 'whole' appear as totality, in other words, as the society which
'holds together' the principles of justice. This program, already perceived by
Boltanski and Thévenot through the idea of 'historical sedimentation', must
be extended. We propose to do so by assuming the socialist ideal, more pre-
cisely the critical republican ideal, while signalling towards cosmopolitanism
(Erez & Laborde, 2020).

5 Sociological Holism and Comparative Education

Let us clarify the link between a socialist perspective and critical republicanism. According to Karsenti and Lemieux, the socialist ideal is indeed an ideology, but with a particular status, clear of the circular dynamics that oppose liberals and conservatives. The socialist ideal must indeed be understood, according to these authors, as a reaction to what is the conservative reaction. The latter being worried about the effects of a nominalist liberalism, which tends to grant existence, as in Margaret Thatcher's famous sentence of 1987,¹ to individuals and families but not to society. It is here that a connection can be made with critical republicanism, that of Cécile Laborde in particular: it is socialist in the sense that it constitutes a reaction to the conservative reaction of Dominique Schnapper and Catherine Kintzler. Essentially, Laborde shares with these 'republican' authors a number of assumptions relating to the value of moral individualism in its egalitarian component. But, unlike Schnapper and Kintzler, she takes fully into account the progress of modernity, which means that the republican ideal, in France and beyond, should be adapted to these new conditions in order to remain faithful to itself.
## 5.1 Modernity

We will often use the expression ‘modernity’ or ‘modern societies’ in this book. At times, the objective will be to assume the status of Human and social sciences as being part of a social process. At other times, the goal will be to describe the deepening of individualism in societies presenting a strong division of labour. In other parts, the point will be to limit ‘debates of modernity’ around the republic, post colonialism, and communities (Blitstein & Lemieux, 2018). Therefore, it is worth fixing the meaning of it now. Karsenti’s proposal seems like a good starting point. Typically, being modern means paying

> attention to the individuality of each epoch, as bearer of a beauty of its own, and [to attribute] the qualification of modern for that very attention, for its ability to extract value specific to the life form it observes, including when it observes itself. (Karsenti, 2013, p. 180)

Let us try nevertheless to be more specific. If the relationship to the present is essential, while providing the means to extract from any epoch the beauty that is its own, it is often by specifying a hierarchy, in the name of evolution for example. Though this can certainly lead to colonial violence, it is assumed that the moderns have gone through the earlier stages of civilisation, so that the latter, theoretically, also fully participate in humanity. This is the ambiguous but decisive humanism of the first social anthropologists.

That being said, seized with a very understandable concern for coherence with themselves, the moderns are at times inclined to consider that any hierarchy of this type must be proscribed. This is why there are debates on modernity, consisting in saying, for example, that the 1990 Declaration of Human Rights in Islam is equivalent in value² to the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The latter is based on a Christian model, first Protestant, then also Catholic: firstly in the context of weakening of the clergy under secular humanist pushes; secondly, on the borders of Europe, in the context of decolonisation, putting Catholic minorities at risk and requiring the defence of the rights of the individual as such.

This shows how necessary it is to cross disciplines, in order to grasp the essential component of secularism that freedom of conscience is. We cannot understand its place at the top of our hierarchy of values, as a notion and human right, without tracing the context of the implosion of the hearth of Latin Christianity. This specific location of emergence does not devalue the scope of freedom of conscience, since its place of incubation in a given space does not change the fact that everyone is “neither more nor less than an heir likely to adhere to it or to reject [it]”, whatever the geographical location (Avon,
## 5.1 Modernity

We will often use the expression ‘modernity’ or ‘modern societies’ in this book. At times, the objective will be to assume the status of Human and social sciences as being part of a social process. At other times, the goal will be to describe the deepening of individualism in societies presenting a strong division of labour. In other parts, the point will be to limit ‘debates of modernity’ around the republic, post colonialism, and communities (Blitstein & Lemieux, 2018). Therefore, it is worth fixing the meaning of it now. Karsenti’s proposal seems like a good starting point. Typically, being modern means paying

> attention to the individuality of each epoch, as bearer of a beauty of its own, and [to attribute] the qualification of modern for that very attention, for its ability to extract value specific to the life form it observes, including when it observes itself. (Karsenti, 2013, p. 180)

Let us try nevertheless to be more specific. If the relationship to the present is essential, while providing the means to extract from any epoch the beauty that is its own, it is often by specifying a hierarchy, in the name of evolution for example. Though this can certainly lead to colonial violence, it is assumed that the moderns have gone through the earlier stages of civilisation, so that the latter, theoretically, also fully participate in humanity. This is the ambiguous but decisive humanism of the first social anthropologists.

That being said, seized with a very understandable concern for coherence with themselves, the moderns are at times inclined to consider that any hierarchy of this type must be proscribed. This is why there are debates on modernity, consisting in saying, for example, that the 1990 Declaration of Human Rights in Islam is equivalent in value² to the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The latter is based on a Christian model, first Protestant, then also Catholic: firstly in the context of weakening of the clergy under secular humanist pushes; secondly, on the borders of Europe, in the context of decolonisation, putting Catholic minorities at risk and requiring the defence of the rights of the individual as such.

This shows how necessary it is to cross disciplines, in order to grasp the essential component of secularism that freedom of conscience is. We cannot understand its place at the top of our hierarchy of values, as a notion and human right, without tracing the context of the implosion of the hearth of Latin Christianity. This specific location of emergence does not devalue the scope of freedom of conscience, since its place of incubation in a given space does not change the fact that everyone is “neither more nor less than an heir likely to adhere to it or to reject [it]”, whatever the geographical location (Avon,
2020, p. 21). As it happens, this tension between place of incubation, actual aspirations of societies, and universalisation is fully supported in the sociology of Durkheim and Mauss.

For if Durkheim assumed the Christian lineage of moral education, this did not prevent him from introducing a severance marked by the process of division of social work. This process, affecting all societies with a high density of population, gives substance to social aspirations marked by the seal of individualism and which need to be taken over first by the state (as integrator and regulator), itself counterbalanced by collective forces, internal (secondary groups) and external (individuation of nation-states conducive to organic solidarity between them). This last step falls within an ideal of cosmopolitanism, assumed by Durkheim and Mauss, even if the latter preferred to call himself internationalist because he considered “the nation [as] the support of politics” and cosmopolitanism may, for this very reason, tend to “deny political responsibility and circumvent legal regulations” (Tarot, 2003, p. 68).

This is why the comparative dimension related to secondary teacher training, through the GlobalSense research program, funded by the European Commission (Erasmus+ Cooperation Partnerships in Higher Education) and the *Pays de la Loire* Region, led to deploy a resolutely Durkheimian sociology through Mauss and Dumont's anthropology – comparative science *par excellence*. The question, for example, is to gain a deep understanding of what distinguishes the French, German and Israeli national characters (Mauss, 1953/2013; Dumont, 1991; Karsenti, 2023). This need to understand also comes from interactions between researchers, within the GlobalSense consortium: we must constantly distinguish misunderstandings depending on their theoretical, political or disciplinary causes (I do not agree because you are a sociologist and I am a philosopher; or because you are a communitarian and I am a republican, etc.), from incomprehension due to national belonging. Indeed the words we use – citizenship, society, world, universalism, nation, republic, liberalism, individual – do not have the same meaning depending on the social totalities that give them meaning.

In fact, a generally equivalent vocabulary was created in theology, morality, philosophy, and not just in science and fine arts. Islam, Buddhism conveyed ideas with words throughout the East and the Far East, just like philosophy and Christianity, partly a heir to it. And not only words, but also formulas, common places; where many civilisations can meet and complement each other. [...] Ideas are not only translatable, they are identical. There is no reason to suppose that with the considerable development of science, the arts, including politics and morals, and fine arts and
2020, p. 21). As it happens, this tension between place of incubation, actual aspirations of societies, and universalisation is fully supported in the sociology of Durkheim and Mauss.

For if Durkheim assumed the Christian lineage of moral education, this did not prevent him from introducing a severance marked by the process of division of social work. This process, affecting all societies with a high density of population, gives substance to social aspirations marked by the seal of individualism and which need to be taken over first by the state (as integrator and regulator), itself counterbalanced by collective forces, internal (secondary groups) and external (individuation of nation-states conducive to organic solidarity between them). This last step falls within an ideal of cosmopolitanism, assumed by Durkheim and Mauss, even if the latter preferred to call himself internationalist because he considered “the nation [as] the support of politics” and cosmopolitanism may, for this very reason, tend to “deny political responsibility and circumvent legal regulations” (Tarot, 2003, p. 68).

This is why the comparative dimension related to secondary teacher training, through the GlobalSense research program, funded by the European Commission (Erasmus+ Cooperation Partnerships in Higher Education) and the *Pays de la Loire* Region, led to deploy a resolutely Durkheimian sociology through Mauss and Dumont's anthropology – comparative science *par excellence*. The question, for example, is to gain a deep understanding of what distinguishes the French, German and Israeli national characters (Mauss, 1953/2013; Dumont, 1991; Karsenti, 2023). This need to understand also comes from interactions between researchers, within the GlobalSense consortium: we must constantly distinguish misunderstandings depending on their theoretical, political or disciplinary causes (I do not agree because you are a sociologist and I am a philosopher; or because you are a communitarian and I am a republican, etc.), from incomprehension due to national belonging. Indeed the words we use – citizenship, society, world, universalism, nation, republic, liberalism, individual – do not have the same meaning depending on the social totalities that give them meaning.

In fact, a generally equivalent vocabulary was created in theology, morality, philosophy, and not just in science and fine arts. Islam, Buddhism conveyed ideas with words throughout the East and the Far East, just like philosophy and Christianity, partly a heir to it. And not only words, but also formulas, common places; where many civilisations can meet and complement each other. [...] Ideas are not only translatable, they are identical. There is no reason to suppose that with the considerable development of science, the arts, including politics and morals, and fine arts and
reason, the fruit of human education and translation, this universal part of
our mind does not result in a single language that finds equivalents every-
where, even in the details of the discourse. [...] So that the heterogeneity
of languages will be counterbalanced by this homogeneity of the rational
part and that one can conceive – what it would have been difficult to con-
ceive a hundred years ago – how a universal language will make possible
the universal society and inversely. (Mauss, 1953/2013, p. 148)

Mauss, however, specifies the conditions for this possible future movement. They are not easily united since morality or fine arts make the constitution of a nation³ and the modern form of societies is the nation, so that there is no society beyond nations. This means that, whilst being members of different nations, we want to understand each other on these crucial scientific questions, or even universalise the “rational part” of our language, we must first assume our anchor age in these societies, as providers of meaning. In doing so, we come back to the essential principles of comparative education, at least when it is concerned with clarification, which is inseparably anthropological and linguistic: “It is not in a world free of language that one must seek a potentially universal word, for it is precisely culture that allows one to seek, beyond the constraints of one’s own language, what is not reduced to it” (Malet, 2022, p. 446).

The author specifies that this often engages a holistic perspective. It takes
into account, without reifying them, these tenacious realities that are nations,
serving a scientific validity based less on term-to-term comparison than on the
management of issues of comparability and epistemology specific to the com-
parative approach.

5.2 *Societal Challenges*

To do this, we must also ask ourselves what sort of international cooperation
is at stake. The GlobalSense research certainly overlaps what Mauss says about
technical, civilisational, and linguistic borrowings between nations. Never-
theless, mentioning this is not enough. In this case, the consortium anchored
in five countries aims to develop citizenship education. ‘Education towards’
(peace, sustainable development, interculturality, etc.) involves a multitude
of scientific and political issues that require not only sociological, philosoph-
ical and anthropological reflexivity, but also educational reflexivity. Since if
researchers are funded, it is in the name of societal challenges (Erasmus+,
Horizon Europe) that are not always sufficiently problematised. This is a dif-
ficult point and it will be developed in the company of Mauss at first, then in
reference to more current works in Education and training sciences.
reason, the fruit of human education and translation, this universal part of
our mind does not result in a single language that finds equivalents every-
where, even in the details of the discourse. [...] So that the heterogeneity
of languages will be counterbalanced by this homogeneity of the rational
part and that one can conceive – what it would have been difficult to con-
ceive a hundred years ago – how a universal language will make possible
the universal society and inversely. (Mauss, 1953/2013, p. 148)

Mauss, however, specifies the conditions for this possible future movement. They are not easily united since morality or fine arts make the constitution of a nation³ and the modern form of societies is the nation, so that there is no society beyond nations. This means that, whilst being members of different nations, we want to understand each other on these crucial scientific questions, or even universalise the “rational part” of our language, we must first assume our anchor age in these societies, as providers of meaning. In doing so, we come back to the essential principles of comparative education, at least when it is concerned with clarification, which is inseparably anthropological and linguistic: “It is not in a world free of language that one must seek a potentially universal word, for it is precisely culture that allows one to seek, beyond the constraints of one’s own language, what is not reduced to it” (Malet, 2022, p. 446).

The author specifies that this often engages a holistic perspective. It takes
into account, without reifying them, these tenacious realities that are nations,
serving a scientific validity based less on term-to-term comparison than on the
management of issues of comparability and epistemology specific to the com-
parative approach.

5.2 *Societal Challenges*

To do this, we must also ask ourselves what sort of international cooperation
is at stake. The GlobalSense research certainly overlaps what Mauss says about
technical, civilisational, and linguistic borrowings between nations. Never-
theless, mentioning this is not enough. In this case, the consortium anchored
in five countries aims to develop citizenship education. ‘Education towards’
(peace, sustainable development, interculturality, etc.) involves a multitude
of scientific and political issues that require not only sociological, philosoph-
ical and anthropological reflexivity, but also educational reflexivity. Since if
researchers are funded, it is in the name of societal challenges (Erasmus+,
Horizon Europe) that are not always sufficiently problematised. This is a dif-
ficult point and it will be developed in the company of Mauss at first, then in
reference to more current works in Education and training sciences.
In principle, sciences must contribute to meeting ‘societal challenges’, because they are themselves part of society, according to a model glimpsed by Durkheim and Mauss. The latter challenged both non-reflexive forms of political engagement in the name of science and apolitical entrenchment in the name of academic purity. This is why the theme worked on in GlobalSense, around global citizenship education, is neither an opportunity to defend a special cause, nor an opportunity to retreat into the academic arena in order to deconstruct ruthlessly a notion that is certainly, at first glance, akin to a square circle. What indeed is the framework of so-called ‘global’ citizenship if the world itself is not a society? Unless a rather anarchic assembling of nations in permanent competition, or even in latent and sometimes real war, can be assimilated to a society?

On the sociological level, Mauss considered that there is no reality, at a global or quasi-global level, that can be considered as an environment where national societies live, in the way individuals live in a ‘social milieu’ that is superior to them. Certainly, nations have an exterior environment, but the latter is not a milieu of different order, since it is the nations themselves that form it.

> It is indeed an abstraction to believe that the internal policy of a nation is not largely conditioned by the outside, and vice versa. Only, and this remarkable, while societies live among other societies, [...] their environment is of the same nature and order as them, (whereas) the other organisms, including human individualities, live in environments that are totally heterogeneous to them: either inferior to them, such as the physical environment, or superior as the social environment. A society that is already a milieu for the individuals who compose it, lives among other societies that are also milieux. (Mauss, 1953/2013, p. 123)

The author accuses ‘utopians’ of losing sight of this reality. He adds that of course, ‘humanity’ exists. However, the latter does not include societies: it is a ‘set of environments’, therefore a set of societies. Adopting this perspective, the fashionable slogan of global citizenship seems inconsistent, at least if one thinks that one must be in a society to be a citizen. To put it bluntly: if there is no global society, but only a set of environments called ‘humanity’, then there can be no global citizenship. Admittedly, it may be objected that Mauss had not yet witnessed federative processes such as the European Union, but the continuation of this book will show that this type of federation, establishing a de facto European citizenship, is rather a denial of the notion of global citizenship.
In principle, sciences must contribute to meeting ‘societal challenges’, because they are themselves part of society, according to a model glimpsed by Durkheim and Mauss. The latter challenged both non-reflexive forms of political engagement in the name of science and apolitical entrenchment in the name of academic purity. This is why the theme worked on in GlobalSense, around global citizenship education, is neither an opportunity to defend a special cause, nor an opportunity to retreat into the academic arena in order to deconstruct ruthlessly a notion that is certainly, at first glance, akin to a square circle. What indeed is the framework of so-called ‘global’ citizenship if the world itself is not a society? Unless a rather anarchic assembling of nations in permanent competition, or even in latent and sometimes real war, can be assimilated to a society?

On the sociological level, Mauss considered that there is no reality, at a global or quasi-global level, that can be considered as an environment where national societies live, in the way individuals live in a ‘social milieu’ that is superior to them. Certainly, nations have an exterior environment, but the latter is not a milieu of different order, since it is the nations themselves that form it.

> It is indeed an abstraction to believe that the internal policy of a nation is not largely conditioned by the outside, and vice versa. Only, and this remarkable, while societies live among other societies, [...] their environment is of the same nature and order as them, (whereas) the other organisms, including human individualities, live in environments that are totally heterogeneous to them: either inferior to them, such as the physical environment, or superior as the social environment. A society that is already a milieu for the individuals who compose it, lives among other societies that are also milieux. (Mauss, 1953/2013, p. 123)

The author accuses ‘utopians’ of losing sight of this reality. He adds that of course, ‘humanity’ exists. However, the latter does not include societies: it is a ‘set of environments’, therefore a set of societies. Adopting this perspective, the fashionable slogan of global citizenship seems inconsistent, at least if one thinks that one must be in a society to be a citizen. To put it bluntly: if there is no global society, but only a set of environments called ‘humanity’, then there can be no global citizenship. Admittedly, it may be objected that Mauss had not yet witnessed federative processes such as the European Union, but the continuation of this book will show that this type of federation, establishing a *de facto* European citizenship, is rather a denial of the notion of global citizenship.
And yet, it is also possible to approach the problem from the other end. Let us return to what Mauss says about the new movements of societies of which the sociologist must be on the lookout in order to sketch a theory about them. It may be that the multifaceted success, as we shall see, of the slogan global citizenship is the indicator of a new social (and educational) aspiration of our morally individualistic societies. Thus, we will approach GCE from a sociological perspective: it is neither a well formed concept nor an educational ideal that could be defended hastily without compromising itself in utopia (to speak as Mauss). On the other hand, it is definitely a slogan to which pre-service teachers are sensitive, are sometimes annoyed by, other times enthusiastic about, and often express interest for it. This is the social phenomenon that we must grasp: how does the deployment of an international pedagogy on global citizenship reveal the aspirations of members of morally individualistic societies, whose ideology increasingly disregards borders and differences in status between human persons, making it a priori receptive, in different ways, to the slogan of global citizenship?

The return to Durkheim and Mauss makes it possible to ask again great scientific questions while avoiding “the most serious wrong”, that of “staying in [one’s] tower while leaving politics to the political theorists and the bureaucratic theorists” (Mauss, 1968, p. 74). Therefore, we seek to mobilise the strongest tools possible to avoid the following pitfall, identified by researchers in Education and training sciences:

> Researchers in Humanities and social sciences (HSS) are part of a context of expertise or innovation in which they are confronted with pseudo-research in the style of design office studies that are increasingly targeted, technical and/or utilitarian. In turn, the ability of HSS to understand and make sense of societal changes seems increasingly fragile, while broad systemic readings of processes and situations are less and less frequent.
> 
> (Barthes & Lange, 2022a, p. 32)

‘Educations towards’ are at the heart of this issue. Indeed, a-disciplinary by nature, they have a strong ideological, even doctrinal, imprint; cognitive but also emotional, moral goals, sometimes presented as being ‘connected to life’, in some cases behavioural goals even, with the support of non-school actors, whose ideological perspective may be useful, but nevertheless deserves to be questioned. Social reality varies on this point, and sometimes the ‘educations towards’ integrate school disciplines, thus more or less solving the problem of the necessary link with constituted knowledge and disciplines that allow this approach. It remains that to draw an ideal-typical definition of ‘education
And yet, it is also possible to approach the problem from the other end. Let us return to what Mauss says about the new movements of societies of which the sociologist must be on the lookout in order to sketch a theory about them. It may be that the multifaceted success, as we shall see, of the slogan global citizenship is the indicator of a new social (and educational) aspiration of our morally individualistic societies. Thus, we will approach GCE from a sociological perspective: it is neither a well formed concept nor an educational ideal that could be defended hastily without compromising itself in utopia (to speak as Mauss). On the other hand, it is definitely a slogan to which pre-service teachers are sensitive, are sometimes annoyed by, other times enthusiastic about, and often express interest for it. This is the social phenomenon that we must grasp: how does the deployment of an international pedagogy on global citizenship reveal the aspirations of members of morally individualistic societies, whose ideology increasingly disregards borders and differences in status between human persons, making it a priori receptive, in different ways, to the slogan of global citizenship?

The return to Durkheim and Mauss makes it possible to ask again great scientific questions while avoiding “the most serious wrong”, that of “staying in [one’s] tower while leaving politics to the political theorists and the bureaucratic theorists” (Mauss, 1968, p. 74). Therefore, we seek to mobilise the strongest tools possible to avoid the following pitfall, identified by researchers in Education and training sciences:

> Researchers in Humanities and social sciences (HSS) are part of a context of expertise or innovation in which they are confronted with pseudo-research in the style of design office studies that are increasingly targeted, technical and/or utilitarian. In turn, the ability of HSS to understand and make sense of societal changes seems increasingly fragile, while broad systemic readings of processes and situations are less and less frequent.
> 
> (Barthes & Lange, 2022a, p. 32)

‘Educations towards’ are at the heart of this issue. Indeed, a-disciplinary by nature, they have a strong ideological, even doctrinal, imprint; cognitive but also emotional, moral goals, sometimes presented as being ‘connected to life’, in some cases behavioural goals even, with the support of non-school actors, whose ideological perspective may be useful, but nevertheless deserves to be questioned. Social reality varies on this point, and sometimes the ‘educations towards’ integrate school disciplines, thus more or less solving the problem of the necessary link with constituted knowledge and disciplines that allow this approach. It remains that to draw an ideal-typical definition of ‘education
towards' is a way of limiting potential pitfalls and of defending their emancipa-
tory goal "in front of those who proclaim themselves legitimate to speak about
these issues (religions, political parties, associations, etc.), because they are
precisely defined by values of commitment" (Barthes, 2017a, p. 29). Vigilance
must be all the more important as universities are among the transmission
belts of 'education towards' and their potentially ideological effects.

Universities occupy a special place in the organisation of ‘education
towards’. Indeed, they position themselves as an essential link in the
transmission of international bodies [UNESCO, WHO, etc.] towards states
and their educational systems. In this sense they are major instruments
for transmitting political programmes and international values [...] This
grid [of networks generally organised by academics] presents itself in
reality as a form of organisation that allows universities to pave the way
for adapting a state’s education system to international political pro-
grams. This is particularly true in ‘education towards’ as it is thematic
and non-disciplinary. (Barthes, 2017b, pp. 568–569)

Hence the necessity to also take the GlobalSense project as an object of
research, in order to breathe sufficient reflexivity into it. To this end, we turn to
interdisciplinarity, for its ability to prevent a particular discipline from forging
ahead towards the management of populations, under the pretext of generous
slogans such as global citizenship education, a concept that certainly paves the
way for international funding but nevertheless must be questioned.

Notes

<footnote n="1">1 "There's no such thing as society. There are individual men and women and there are families. And no government can do anything except through people, and people must look after themselves first". Certainly Thatcher was also a conservative, who integrated the strategically crucial theme of families into her neoliberal nominalism ("and there are families").</footnote>

<footnote n="2">2 "Reaffirming the civilising and historical role of the Islamic Ummah, whose best Community God has made [...] States, Article 1: All human beings constitute one family whose members are united by their submission to God and their belonging to Adam's offspring. [...] Article 6: Women are equal to men in terms of human dignity. The burden of caring for the family and the responsibility of caring for it rests with the husband. [...] Article 10: Islam is the religion of innateness" (Extract from the Declaration of Human Rights in Islam adopted in 1990 by the 57 member States of the Organisation of the Islamic Conference). And by the late 1960s, "counter-proposals [to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights] had been proposed in the name of religious repositories" (Avon, 2017, p. 342).</footnote>
towards' is a way of limiting potential pitfalls and of defending their emancipa-
tory goal "in front of those who proclaim themselves legitimate to speak about
these issues (religions, political parties, associations, etc.), because they are
precisely defined by values of commitment" (Barthes, 2017a, p. 29). Vigilance
must be all the more important as universities are among the transmission
belts of 'education towards' and their potentially ideological effects.

Universities occupy a special place in the organisation of ‘education
towards’. Indeed, they position themselves as an essential link in the
transmission of international bodies [UNESCO, WHO, etc.] towards states
and their educational systems. In this sense they are major instruments
for transmitting political programmes and international values [...] This
grid [of networks generally organised by academics] presents itself in
reality as a form of organisation that allows universities to pave the way
for adapting a state’s education system to international political pro-
grams. This is particularly true in ‘education towards’ as it is thematic
and non-disciplinary. (Barthes, 2017b, pp. 568–569)

Hence the necessity to also take the GlobalSense project as an object of
research, in order to breathe sufficient reflexivity into it. To this end, we turn to
interdisciplinarity, for its ability to prevent a particular discipline from forging
ahead towards the management of populations, under the pretext of generous
slogans such as global citizenship education, a concept that certainly paves the
way for international funding but nevertheless must be questioned.

Notes

<footnote n="1">1 "There's no such thing as society. There are individual men and women and there are families. And no government can do anything except through people, and people must look after themselves first". Certainly Thatcher was also a conservative, who integrated the strategically crucial theme of families into her neoliberal nominalism ("and there are families").</footnote>

<footnote n="2">2 “Reaffirming the civilising and historical role of the Islamic Ummah, whose best Community God has made [...] States, Article 1: All human beings constitute one family whose members are united by their submission to God and their belonging to Adam’s offspring. [...] Article 6: Women are equal to men in terms of human dignity. The burden of caring for the family and the responsibility of caring for it rests with the husband. [...] Article 10: Islam is the religion of innateness” (Extract from the Declaration of Human Rights in Islam adopted in 1990 by the 57 member States of the Organisation of the Islamic Conference). And by the late 1960s, “counter-proposals [to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights] had been proposed in the name of religious repositories” (Avon, 2017, p. 342).</footnote>
3 In a non-legal sense. The constitution of a nation is made up of elements that cannot be borrowed by another nation. They are generally quite limited and Mauss specifies that everything else can be borrowed. Here is a Franco-German example: "On the French side, I am man by nature and French by accident [...]; [on the German side], I am a man thanks to my being German [...], and where the French were content to juxtapose nations as fragments of humanity, the Germans, recognising the individuality of each, were concerned with ordering the nations in humanity according to their value. [...] Finally, beyond their immediate opposition, the universalism of some, the pan-Germanism of others have a similar function or place" (Dumont, 1991, pp. 150-151). The weight of history thus makes difficult direct conceptual borrowings (about the individual, universalism, cultures) even if the phenomena it carries can be similar: German suprematism and French colonialism. Similarly, on the level of moral individualism, which is a common point between these two societies, we can distinguish an 'introvert individualism' in Germany, marked by Protestantism, from an 'extrovert individualism' in France, marked by the Revolution.
3 In a non-legal sense. The constitution of a nation is made up of elements that cannot be borrowed by another nation. They are generally quite limited and Mauss specifies that everything else can be borrowed. Here is a Franco-German example: "On the French side, I am man by nature and French by accident [...]; [on the German side], I am a man thanks to my being German [...], and where the French were content to juxtapose nations as fragments of humanity, the Germans, recognising the individuality of each, were concerned with ordering the nations in humanity according to their value. [...] Finally, beyond their immediate opposition, the universalism of some, the pan-Germanism of others have a similar function or place" (Dumont, 1991, pp. 150-151). The weight of history thus makes difficult direct conceptual borrowings (about the individual, universalism, cultures) even if the phenomena it carries can be similar: German suprematism and French colonialism. Similarly, on the level of moral individualism, which is a common point between these two societies, we can distinguish an 'introvert individualism' in Germany, marked by Protestantism, from an 'extrovert individualism' in France, marked by the Revolution.
# Education and Training Sciences within Social Sciences

## 1 Sciences Reduced to Their Object?

In order to understand fully the rich structuring of Education and training sciences (ETS), let us proceed here with an international comparison. In France, from the outside, they are sometimes confused with pedagogy. The success of well-known figures such as Philippe Meirieu has undoubtedly contributed to this image. On other occasions, ETS have been associated almost exclusively with teacher training or even disciplinary didactics, because of the strong presence of this sub-field in the French teacher training colleges. However, these shortcuts are reductive, for the structuring of ETS is much richer, in that it is based on more numerous disciplines, including sociology, psychology, history, economics and philosophy.

In Great Britain, education sciences have made a major institutional contribution to teacher training for professionalisation purposes. In Germany, an academic trend towards the development of didactics, in a different sense from the French one, has remained strongly linked to the teaching of hermeneutic, speculative philosophy, leaving little room for social sciences (Malet, 2021). The French ETS are more integrative. They do include didactics, which find their main institutional *raison d'être* in the preparation of teacher entrance examinations (didactics of mathematics, history, physics, etc.), however the choice was made to found, from 1967, full-fledged departments of educational sciences, strongly associated with the development of other human and social sciences.

This contributes to the strength of ETS in France, which are not reducible to their professionalising mission, but also generate an identity problem: what distinguishes them from their contributory disciplines, except their object (which they do not monopolise) and their propensity for interdisciplinarity (that they are not the only ones to develop)? The answers to these questions are variable, but they take into account three needs: institutionalising ETS, defending them against criticism, and giving them their own identity through epistemological reflection. This last mission is less successful, because it is the most difficult. Indeed
# Education and Training Sciences within Social Sciences

## 1 Sciences Reduced to Their Object?

In order to understand fully the rich structuring of Education and training sciences (ETS), let us proceed here with an international comparison. In France, from the outside, they are sometimes confused with pedagogy. The success of well-known figures such as Philippe Meirieu has undoubtedly contributed to this image. On other occasions, ETS have been associated almost exclusively with teacher training or even disciplinary didactics, because of the strong presence of this sub-field in the French teacher training colleges. However, these shortcuts are reductive, for the structuring of ETS is much richer, in that it is based on more numerous disciplines, including sociology, psychology, history, economics and philosophy.

In Great Britain, education sciences have made a major institutional contribution to teacher training for professionalisation purposes. In Germany, an academic trend towards the development of didactics, in a different sense from the French one, has remained strongly linked to the teaching of hermeneutic, speculative philosophy, leaving little room for social sciences (Malet, 2021). The French ETS are more integrative. They do include didactics, which find their main institutional *raison d'être* in the preparation of teacher entrance examinations (didactics of mathematics, history, physics, etc.), however the choice was made to found, from 1967, full-fledged departments of educational sciences, strongly associated with the development of other human and social sciences.

This contributes to the strength of ETS in France, which are not reducible to their professionalising mission, but also generate an identity problem: what distinguishes them from their contributory disciplines, except their object (which they do not monopolise) and their propensity for interdisciplinarity (that they are not the only ones to develop)? The answers to these questions are variable, but they take into account three needs: institutionalising ETS, defending them against criticism, and giving them their own identity through epistemological reflection. This last mission is less successful, because it is the most difficult. Indeed
Can we define a science by an object as vague as that of education? [...] It
is the same with education as it is with language. [...] Linguistics can only
be constituted as an object of science by taking – on a set of phenomena
– a given point of view (for example, that of the structure) – and by giving
oneself a particular method (for example, the structural method). (Fabre
& Lang, 2021, p. 36)

However, ETS do not have such a “particular method” or specific perspec-
tive outside of what the contributing disciplines can provide. Admittedly,
original studies exist, as Claude Lessard points out by taking socio-didactic
works as an example: “among others, Bautier and Rayou’s research on learning
inequalities and school misunderstandings is a fine example of a successful
amalgam between sociology, didactics and teaching analysis” (Lessard, 2019, p.
204). Nevertheless, the author emphasises that this type of work remains infre-
quent, with most researches remaining attached to one or more disciplines,
without systematically leading to an articulation that would sign, in a way, the
trademark of ETS. This is not a problem in itself, but opens up a question that
needs to be taken seriously, in order to extract its potential.

2

A Field Reduced to Its Contributory Disciplines?

Let us mention in this regard a neighbouring discipline, also constituted by
its object: political science. Is its originality institutional, epistemological, or
both? Its prestigious character (grandes écoles, etc.) makes it less vulnerable
than ETS to accusations of not being a full-fledged science, endowed with its
own epistemology. However, political science has also been ferociously crit-
icised by some. Pierre Bourdieu considered it as an “official science”, unable
therefore to claim scientificity: “far from contributing to the objective science
of the ‘political’ universe, it works on its own legitimation by taking over the
division of the pre-constructed object” (Bourdieu, 1977, p. 87). In addition to
its own definition, political science, just like ETS, benefited from a favourable
institutional situation, illustrated by its state support in France in the second
half of the 20th century. In this capacity, it has been used to train senior civil
servants, just like ETS have contributed to the training of teachers and educa-
tional executives.

The parallel is therefore striking between ETS and political science. The two
disciplines (or sets of disciplines) are clearly distinguished, externally, from
those that come from a founding epistemological gesture, inseparable from
Can we define a science by an object as vague as that of education? [...] It
is the same with education as it is with language. [...] Linguistics can only
be constituted as an object of science by taking – on a set of phenomena
– a given point of view (for example, that of the structure) – and by giving
oneself a particular method (for example, the structural method). (Fabre
& Lang, 2021, p. 36)

However, ETS do not have such a “particular method” or specific perspec-
tive outside of what the contributing disciplines can provide. Admittedly,
original studies exist, as Claude Lessard points out by taking socio-didactic
works as an example: “among others, Bautier and Rayou’s research on learning
inequalities and school misunderstandings is a fine example of a successful
amalgam between sociology, didactics and teaching analysis” (Lessard, 2019, p.
204). Nevertheless, the author emphasises that this type of work remains infre-
quent, with most researches remaining attached to one or more disciplines,
without systematically leading to an articulation that would sign, in a way, the
trademark of ETS. This is not a problem in itself, but opens up a question that
needs to be taken seriously, in order to extract its potential.

2 A Field Reduced to Its Contributory Disciplines?

Let us mention in this regard a neighbouring discipline, also constituted by
its object: political science. Is its originality institutional, epistemological, or
both? Its prestigious character (grandes écoles, etc.) makes it less vulnerable
than ETS to accusations of not being a full-fledged science, endowed with its
own epistemology. However, political science has also been ferociously crit-
icised by some. Pierre Bourdieu considered it as an “official science”, unable
therefore to claim scientificity: “far from contributing to the objective science
of the ‘political’ universe, it works on its own legitimation by taking over the
division of the pre-constructed object” (Bourdieu, 1977, p. 87). In addition to
its own definition, political science, just like ETS, benefited from a favourable
institutional situation, illustrated by its state support in France in the second
half of the 20th century. In this capacity, it has been used to train senior civil
servants, just like ETS have contributed to the training of teachers and educa-
tional executives.

The parallel is therefore striking between ETS and political science. The two
disciplines (or sets of disciplines) are clearly distinguished, externally, from
those that come from a founding epistemological gesture, inseparable from
institutional recognition. For instance Durkheim, wanting to separate sociol-
ogy from psychology, studied suicide as a social phenomenon by isolating its
strictly sociological aspects (variation in suicide rates), even though suicide
seems like a typically individual gesture. To this end, the sociologist did not
hesitate to use striking images, such as “suicide currents incarnating in indi-
viduals”. The independence of sociology was at stake and the epistemological
setting was set for decades within the discipline, which was largely structured
around debates on the admissibility of such formulas.

The Durkheimian Takeover under Debate

To the extent that this work claims a Durkheimian approach in ETS, let us illustrate some ambiguities of the French founder of sociology. They are numerous but the most debated and, therefore, the most salient undoubt- edly concern *Suicide*, published in 1897. In an answer entitled *Suicides*, pub- lished in 1975 with a preface by Raymond Aron, the sociologist Jean Baechler accused Durkheim of meaning that it is not individuals who commit sui- cide, but society that commits suicide through certain members. Charles- Henry Cuin admits that some of Durkheim’s sentences are, at the very least, unfortunate, for example when he assimilated suicide currents to “electric currents” to legitimise their reality on the model of natural sciences (Cuin, 2018). However, Philippe Besnard replied to Baechler that suicide motifs are statistical regularities that can be explained without taking into account the intimate psychological motives of individuals.

The content of the dispute is that through this particular object of study,
Durkheim wanted to go further by defining social facts as things, with their
own existence, independent from its individual manifestations and exert-
ing a constraint on the individual. This collectivist motif, deployed on sev-
eral fronts without the necessary distinctions always being established (for
example, why would constraint be the ultimate indicator of the existence
of a social fact?), polarised the discussions and controversies that have
structured French sociology from an epistemological point of view. They
are also linked to Durkheim's difficulty in separating his roles as a sociol-
ogist, a citizen, a public intellectual and a teacher trainer. That being said,
these tensions have also provided demarcations for social sciences, as dis-
ciplines where moral, political and scientific concerns constantly intersect
(Délaye, 2018).
institutional recognition. For instance Durkheim, wanting to separate sociol-
ogy from psychology, studied suicide as a social phenomenon by isolating its
strictly sociological aspects (variation in suicide rates), even though suicide
seems like a typically individual gesture. To this end, the sociologist did not
hesitate to use striking images, such as “suicide currents incarnating in indi-
viduals”. The independence of sociology was at stake and the epistemological
setting was set for decades within the discipline, which was largely structured
around debates on the admissibility of such formulas.

The Durkheimian Takeover under Debate

To the extent that this work claims a Durkheimian approach in ETS, let us illustrate some ambiguities of the French founder of sociology. They are numerous but the most debated and, therefore, the most salient undoubt- edly concern *Suicide*, published in 1897. In an answer entitled *Suicides*, pub- lished in 1975 with a preface by Raymond Aron, the sociologist Jean Baechler accused Durkheim of meaning that it is not individuals who commit sui- cide, but society that commits suicide through certain members. Charles- Henry Cuin admits that some of Durkheim’s sentences are, at the very least, unfortunate, for example when he assimilated suicide currents to “electric currents” to legitimise their reality on the model of natural sciences (Cuin, 2018). However, Philippe Besnard replied to Baechler that suicide motifs are statistical regularities that can be explained without taking into account the intimate psychological motives of individuals.

The content of the dispute is that through this particular object of study,
Durkheim wanted to go further by defining social facts as things, with their
own existence, independent from its individual manifestations and exert-
ing a constraint on the individual. This collectivist motif, deployed on sev-
eral fronts without the necessary distinctions always being established (for
example, why would constraint be the ultimate indicator of the existence
of a social fact?), polarised the discussions and controversies that have
structured French sociology from an epistemological point of view. They
are also linked to Durkheim's difficulty in separating his roles as a sociol-
ogist, a citizen, a public intellectual and a teacher trainer. That being said,
these tensions have also provided demarcations for social sciences, as dis-
ciplines where moral, political and scientific concerns constantly intersect
(Délaye, 2018).
In the current context of plurality that constitutes ETS, which have not ben-
efited from this sort of inseparably epistemological and institutional takeover,
attempts at unification are difficult. Thus certain researchers in ETS might try
an individual and strategic *rapprochement* with older disciplines (sociology,
psychology, etc.), whereas others may try a one with

rewarding professional field(s) that, though it is scientifically substanti-
ated, still runs the risk of becoming ancillary with expertise, advice and
training activities that can take the lead over activities of documentary
research, empirical investigation and theorisation. (Albero & Barthes,
2022, p. 236)

This book is based on the conviction that ETS can accompany the transfor-
mation of the educational action (praxeological dimension of ETS), driven by
a political concern, not in the sense of an opinion but of a political philosophy.
In order to do this, it is necessary to come back to sociology and reflect on it as
a science that has precisely bared, since its inception, a concern of this order:
that of providing individuals with the conditions of their autonomy. We just
have to evoke how Durkheim envisaged organic solidarity, both as an explana-
tory principle and as a principle of individuation that, according to him, risked
being hindered by unwanted forms of division of labour, anomic and con-
strained, in modern societies. This political concern to promote the autonomy
of individuals could appear, at first glance, as an objective that is less scientific
than marked by Durkheimian positivism (optimistic or even naive). Yet even
a quick glance over the history of social sciences is enough to realise that this
political concern is also present, in other forms, in Bourdieu's work destined to
unveil mechanisms of domination, or in Boltanski and Thévenot's work, who
in *On Justification* admit their liberal pluralism.

Ultimately, the question will not be so much whether ETS, because of their
purpose or institutional configuration, have more or less of a political purpose
than other areas; but rather to grasp how they contribute to this common
movement within human and social sciences, although they focus on a partic-
ular object. Because, having “for a long time appealed to interdisciplinarity and
to the indexing of research in human and social sciences on professional con-
texts and fields”, ETS “foreshadow in some respects the future of disciplinary
worlds, in a stronger relationship with each other, less marked by an ideal of
fencing them off” (Malet, 2021, p. 86). Thus, ETS have the means to contribute,
with their own resources but in a shared academic environment, to sociology
and philosophy, among others.
In the current context of plurality that constitutes ETS, which have not ben-
efited from this sort of inseparably epistemological and institutional takeover,
attempts at unification are difficult. Thus certain researchers in ETS might try
an individual and strategic *rapprochement* with older disciplines (sociology,
psychology, etc.), whereas others may try a one with

rewarding professional field(s) that, though it is scientifically substanti-
ated, still runs the risk of becoming ancillary with expertise, advice and
training activities that can take the lead over activities of documentary
research, empirical investigation and theorisation. (Albero & Barthes,
2022, p. 236)

This book is based on the conviction that ETS can accompany the transfor-
mation of the educational action (praxeological dimension of ETS), driven by
a political concern, not in the sense of an opinion but of a political philosophy.
In order to do this, it is necessary to come back to sociology and reflect on it as
a science that has precisely bared, since its inception, a concern of this order:
that of providing individuals with the conditions of their autonomy. We just
have to evoke how Durkheim envisaged organic solidarity, both as an explana-
tory principle and as a principle of individuation that, according to him, risked
being hindered by unwanted forms of division of labour, anomic and con-
strained, in modern societies. This political concern to promote the autonomy
of individuals could appear, at first glance, as an objective that is less scientific
than marked by Durkheimian positivism (optimistic or even naive). Yet even
a quick glance over the history of social sciences is enough to realise that this
political concern is also present, in other forms, in Bourdieu's work destined to
unveil mechanisms of domination, or in Boltanski and Thévenot's work, who
in *On Justification* admit their liberal pluralism.

Ultimately, the question will not be so much whether ETS, because of their
purpose or institutional configuration, have more or less of a political purpose
than other areas; but rather to grasp how they contribute to this common
movement within human and social sciences, although they focus on a partic-
ular object. Because, having “for a long time appealed to interdisciplinarity and
to the indexing of research in human and social sciences on professional con-
texts and fields”, ETS “foreshadow in some respects the future of disciplinary
worlds, in a stronger relationship with each other, less marked by an ideal of
fencing them off” (Malet, 2021, p. 86). Thus, ETS have the means to contribute,
with their own resources but in a shared academic environment, to sociology
and philosophy, among others.
## 3 The Questioning of Three Disciplines

The intention here is to approach ETS from two disciplines simultaneously, whilst also questioning how they are approached. This re-evaluation of reciprocal positions has been underway for a long time. Among the quantity of existing studies, three paths can be highlighted:

- Philosophers seeking to clarify the insights of classical sociologists (Descombes 2000; Gilbert, 2013; Pettit, 2014);

- Sociologists renewing their theoretical equipment by directly and explicitly using philosophy (Boltanski & Thévenot, 2006, 2022; Lemieux, 2012);

- Sociologists seeking, in a more epistemological perspective, to better define their discipline's place in relation to philosophy, by taking into account their respective evolutions (Kaufmann, 2011; Callegaro & Giry, 2020).

This leads to three general questions:

1. Are the conceptual resources provided by classical sociologists sufficient to think of major social phenomena such as beliefs, collective entities, domination, nation, state, citizenship?

2. If sociological approaches engage disputed questions (social ontology, relationship to politics), does that imply that they might benefit from being put into perspective via an external philosophical view?

3. What legitimacy does sociological work have, which commonly claims an epistemological rupture, even though the discipline was constituted, throughout the 20th century, in close relationship with the ideals – liberal, Marxian, socialist¹ – of modernisation of society?

### 3.1 *Comparative Education and Modernisation of Society*

And in comparative education, the same questions arise, such as the relationship to politics: “The project of founding a comparative science of education, from the very beginning of the field of study, can only be understood by putting into perspective the philosophical and political modernity program” (Malet, 2005, p. 169).

Comparative education indeed includes a program, accompanied by Durkheim among others, loaded with the belief in a correlation between scientific progress and social progress. In the second half of the 20th century, this made room for a pragmatic project oriented towards an ideal of pacifying international relations, so that one can identify, according to Malet, a comparative tradition in education that takes the political form of reformist liberalism. More recently, a critical approach has emerged: sometimes with postcolonial
## 3 The Questioning of Three Disciplines

The intention here is to approach ETS from two disciplines simultaneously, whilst also questioning how they are approached. This re-evaluation of reciprocal positions has been underway for a long time. Among the quantity of existing studies, three paths can be highlighted:

- Philosophers seeking to clarify the insights of classical sociologists (Descombes 2000; Gilbert, 2013; Pettit, 2014);

- Sociologists renewing their theoretical equipment by directly and explicitly using philosophy (Boltanski & Thévenot, 2006, 2022; Lemieux, 2012);

- Sociologists seeking, in a more epistemological perspective, to better define their discipline's place in relation to philosophy, by taking into account their respective evolutions (Kaufmann, 2011; Callegaro & Giry, 2020).

This leads to three general questions:

1. Are the conceptual resources provided by classical sociologists sufficient to think of major social phenomena such as beliefs, collective entities, domination, nation, state, citizenship?

2. If sociological approaches engage disputed questions (social ontology, relationship to politics), does that imply that they might benefit from being put into perspective via an external philosophical view?

3. What legitimacy does sociological work have, which commonly claims an epistemological rupture, even though the discipline was constituted, throughout the 20th century, in close relationship with the ideals – liberal, Marxian, socialist¹ – of modernisation of society?

### 3.1 *Comparative Education and Modernisation of Society*

And in comparative education, the same questions arise, such as the relationship to politics: “The project of founding a comparative science of education, from the very beginning of the field of study, can only be understood by putting into perspective the philosophical and political modernity program” (Malet, 2005, p. 169).

Comparative education indeed includes a program, accompanied by Durkheim among others, loaded with the belief in a correlation between scientific progress and social progress. In the second half of the 20th century, this made room for a pragmatic project oriented towards an ideal of pacifying international relations, so that one can identify, according to Malet, a comparative tradition in education that takes the political form of reformist liberalism. More recently, a critical approach has emerged: sometimes with postcolonial
designs that consist in reversing the historical relations of domination between
regions of the world; at other times, with more moderate designs inspired
by the hermeneutic tradition. The latter consist in restoring the meaning of
practices beyond flows of globalisation, often presented as inevitable by inter-
national organisations, themselves being politically involved in promoting cer-
tain orientations of comparative education.

The complexities of comparative education, therefore, cannot be severed
from central currents of sociology: first marked by a scientist ideal, quite visi-
ble in Durkheim's work;² then depending on a state request, more pragmatic
when it came to democratising and modernising institutions, through studies
on access rates to different levels of education, on school effect, etc. In short,
ETS are an integral part of human and social sciences because they face the
same types of questions and the same challenges. Embedded in social affairs,
more or less dependent on a political power, they are conducted to develop a
policy, as is the case in sociology. Their political aspect is more or less strong,
depending on the objects investigated and the methods used; it is also more
or less explicit, depending on the researches' level of reflexivity. However, ETS
are an institutional anchor from which one can question, in a privileged way
because it is external (therefore autonomous), the relations between sociology
and philosophy.

On questions of citizenship, the explicit articulation between (normative)
political philosophy and (descriptive) sociology ensures the avoidance of too
many prescriptive considerations. Indeed political philosophy is not intended
to be immediately prescriptive: it proposes a reflection on norms, their coher-
ence, their assumptions, making it possible to explain criteria of thought that
everyone can then accept or refuse, having a better understanding of them. In
this spirit, a critical republican point of view is taken in this book, a 'prefer-
ence' prone to being considered and exceeded, in the service of a research pos-
ture that is as clear and explicit as possible. Thus, it is necessary to involve the
work of philosophers who have been trying, for decades, to demonstrate the
conceptual and empirical coherence of critical republicanism: Philip Pettit,
Cécile Laborde, among others.

## 3.2 *Clarifying the Registers of Discourses in the Social Sciences*

In short, if the norms forming the framework of this book are just considered
norms among others in pluralistic societies, their coherence must however be
identified. This is a way of seeking a solution to the problem raised by Pierre
Demeulenaere, according to which sociological works, although often rigorous
in the treatment of data, remain little formalised in the articulation and
designs that consist in reversing the historical relations of domination between
regions of the world; at other times, with more moderate designs inspired
by the hermeneutic tradition. The latter consist in restoring the meaning of
practices beyond flows of globalisation, often presented as inevitable by inter-
national organisations, themselves being politically involved in promoting cer-
tain orientations of comparative education.

The complexities of comparative education, therefore, cannot be severed
from central currents of sociology: first marked by a scientist ideal, quite visi-
ble in Durkheim's work;² then depending on a state request, more pragmatic
when it came to democratising and modernising institutions, through studies
on access rates to different levels of education, on school effect, etc. In short,
ETS are an integral part of human and social sciences because they face the
same types of questions and the same challenges. Embedded in social affairs,
more or less dependent on a political power, they are conducted to develop a
policy, as is the case in sociology. Their political aspect is more or less strong,
depending on the objects investigated and the methods used; it is also more
or less explicit, depending on the researches' level of reflexivity. However, ETS
are an institutional anchor from which one can question, in a privileged way
because it is external (therefore autonomous), the relations between sociology
and philosophy.

On questions of citizenship, the explicit articulation between (normative)
political philosophy and (descriptive) sociology ensures the avoidance of too
many prescriptive considerations. Indeed political philosophy is not intended
to be immediately prescriptive: it proposes a reflection on norms, their coher-
ence, their assumptions, making it possible to explain criteria of thought that
everyone can then accept or refuse, having a better understanding of them. In
this spirit, a critical republican point of view is taken in this book, a 'prefer-
ence' prone to being considered and exceeded, in the service of a research pos-
ture that is as clear and explicit as possible. Thus, it is necessary to involve the
work of philosophers who have been trying, for decades, to demonstrate the
conceptual and empirical coherence of critical republicanism: Philip Pettit,
Cécile Laborde, among others.

## 3.2 *Clarifying the Registers of Discourses in the Social Sciences*

In short, if the norms forming the framework of this book are just considered
norms among others in pluralistic societies, their coherence must however be
identified. This is a way of seeking a solution to the problem raised by Pierre
Demeulenaere, according to which sociological works, although often rigorous
in the treatment of data, remain little formalised in the articulation and
hierarchy of their general statements, mixing descriptive proposals, explanatory proposals and normative positions.

> We can consider that the task of social sciences is descriptive, explanatory and normative. The description merely describes what is, the explanation tries to account for why that is, and finally normative positions assess what exists and propose action plans. Admittedly, this third task is fundamentally problematic (yet not necessarily unacceptable) from the point of view of a scientific undertaking, we will not come back to it here. Suffice it to say that, in fact, most prestigious or modest social scientists do not hesitate to take all kinds of normative positions within the frame of their scientific work. A systematic reflection on the epistemological bases of this attitude remains to be undertaken. (Demeulenaere, 2012, p. 75)

In this context, one path consists in using Max Weber's advice, who invited researchers to explain their relationship to values, on which is based the choice of objects treated. For example, when one tries to study the link between 'freedom' and 'the French Revolution', it is because the question concerns one as a researcher belonging to a given society, at a given time where and when the value of political liberalism is posed, contested, debated. The question remains of whether this is sufficient to provide an analysis that is free of value judgments, which according to Weber must be 'suspended' by researchers. Yet this depends on the subject matter: it is easier to suspend judgment about a work of art, as Nathalie Heinich (2012) did by mobilising the sociology of Boltanski and Thévenot, than about the principle of non-discrimination for instance.

In other words, to decree the researcher's axiological neutrality is all the more difficult since the values at stake (on citizenship, secularism, non-discrimination, freedom of conscience) are also actual legal and regulatory practices; while aesthetic values, for example, are not standardised in legal terms – at least in liberal countries – beyond state support for one artistic trend, considered more legitimate than another, or beyond landscape preservation regulation. Essentially, it is impossible to eliminate the axiological content of certain scientific categories, because “the mere fact of comparing, in a purely factual way, the functioning of a political regime to its displayed ideals is a value judgment” (Pranchère, 2021, p. 761).

In fact, it sometimes happens that the axiological framework underlying researches is implicitly conveyed through supposedly comparative analyses, presented as only descriptive. This is not a problem in itself, but it is worth explaining this axiological framework. Thus, we find anthropologists
hierarchy of their general statements, mixing descriptive proposals, explanatory proposals and normative positions.

> We can consider that the task of social sciences is descriptive, explanatory and normative. The description merely describes what is, the explanation tries to account for why that is, and finally normative positions assess what exists and propose action plans. Admittedly, this third task is fundamentally problematic (yet not necessarily unacceptable) from the point of view of a scientific undertaking, we will not come back to it here. Suffice it to say that, in fact, most prestigious or modest social scientists do not hesitate to take all kinds of normative positions within the frame of their scientific work. A systematic reflection on the epistemological bases of this attitude remains to be undertaken. (Demeulenaere, 2012, p. 75)

In this context, one path consists in using Max Weber's advice, who invited researchers to explain their relationship to values, on which is based the choice of objects treated. For example, when one tries to study the link between 'freedom' and 'the French Revolution', it is because the question concerns one as a researcher belonging to a given society, at a given time where and when the value of political liberalism is posed, contested, debated. The question remains of whether this is sufficient to provide an analysis that is free of value judgments, which according to Weber must be 'suspended' by researchers. Yet this depends on the subject matter: it is easier to suspend judgment about a work of art, as Nathalie Heinich (2012) did by mobilising the sociology of Boltanski and Thévenot, than about the principle of non-discrimination for instance.

In other words, to decree the researcher's axiological neutrality is all the more difficult since the values at stake (on citizenship, secularism, non-discrimination, freedom of conscience) are also actual legal and regulatory practices; while aesthetic values, for example, are not standardised in legal terms – at least in liberal countries – beyond state support for one artistic trend, considered more legitimate than another, or beyond landscape preservation regulation. Essentially, it is impossible to eliminate the axiological content of certain scientific categories, because “the mere fact of comparing, in a purely factual way, the functioning of a political regime to its displayed ideals is a value judgment” (Pranchère, 2021, p. 761).

In fact, it sometimes happens that the axiological framework underlying researches is implicitly conveyed through supposedly comparative analyses, presented as only descriptive. This is not a problem in itself, but it is worth explaining this axiological framework. Thus, we find anthropologists
(Saba Mahmood) and philosophers (Judith Butler) who try a conceptual
rapprochement – contrary to European liberal law – between the notions of
race and religion, inviting us to rethink ‘Judeo-Christian’ sensibilities in order
to respect Muslim ‘wounded religious sensitivities’. This is a sophisticated way
to update the ‘blasphemy’ argument (Urbanski, 2022a). The interdisciplinary
work, between sociology and political philosophy, precisely makes it possible
to better identify what, in this type of analysis, consists in an anthropological
description on the one hand, objectively enlightening; and in a political pro-
posal on the other. The latter should be spelt out as such, since it falls within
what any citizen can legitimately criticise or refuse. In this case, a philosophi-
cally liberal approach – the one deployed here – is not consistent with Butler
and Mahmood’s argument on wounded religious sensibilities (March, 2011).

Max Weber gives us a hard time when he considers that “the recognition
of empirical facts” and the “evaluative position of the scientist who exercises
a judgment on facts” are “two sets of simply heterogeneous problems” that
must “absolutely” be distinguished. This is why another, more pragmatic, of his
advice to scholars, will retain our attention here: “to bring scrupulously [...]
to their own conscience and to that of the readers, what the standards of value
are that are used to measure reality and those from which [scholars] derive
their value judgment” (Weber, 1965, pp. 133, 416). Weber illustrated his episte-
mological position by commenting on the recruitment of an anarchist as an
academic in a law school. Far from being an obstacle, the anarchist’s relation
to values provides a distance from the law, allowing for better scrutiny of its
arbitrary character. Hence, there lies a potential gain of knowledge, compared
to other perspectives oriented by different relations to values ... as long as the
anarchist manages not to impose his values in the analysis. The challenge in
this book will be not to impose³ a close relationship to republican values in
the analysis.

4 Why Religion?

As has been said, circumscribing republicanism, as a rethought version of
political liberalism, requires taking stock of religion and secularism. It is nec-
essary here to clearly explain the incompatibility of the republican approach
with several syntheses on European secularism, in particular that of Jean-Paul
Willaume (2015), which is nevertheless authoritative. Indeed, it seems wrong
to say, as Willaime does, that Europe, especially in its relations with public
schools, is ‘secular’. There is no sufficiently broad meaning of this word to make
it correspond to different empirical realities, unless the term is diluted to such
(Saba Mahmood) and philosophers (Judith Butler) who try a conceptual
rapprochement – contrary to European liberal law – between the notions of
race and religion, inviting us to rethink ‘Judeo-Christian’ sensibilities in order
to respect Muslim ‘wounded religious sensitivities’. This is a sophisticated way
to update the ‘blasphemy’ argument (Urbanski, 2022a). The interdisciplinary
work, between sociology and political philosophy, precisely makes it possible
to better identify what, in this type of analysis, consists in an anthropological
description on the one hand, objectively enlightening; and in a political pro-
posal on the other. The latter should be spelt out as such, since it falls within
what any citizen can legitimately criticise or refuse. In this case, a philosophi-
cally liberal approach – the one deployed here – is not consistent with Butler
and Mahmood’s argument on wounded religious sensibilities (March, 2011).

Max Weber gives us a hard time when he considers that “the recognition
of empirical facts” and the “evaluative position of the scientist who exercises
a judgment on facts” are “two sets of simply heterogeneous problems” that
must “absolutely” be distinguished. This is why another, more pragmatic, of his
advice to scholars, will retain our attention here: “to bring scrupulously [...]
to their own conscience and to that of the readers, what the standards of value
are that are used to measure reality and those from which [scholars] derive
their value judgment” (Weber, 1965, pp. 133, 416). Weber illustrated his episte-
mological position by commenting on the recruitment of an anarchist as an
academic in a law school. Far from being an obstacle, the anarchist’s relation
to values provides a distance from the law, allowing for better scrutiny of its
arbitrary character. Hence, there lies a potential gain of knowledge, compared
to other perspectives oriented by different relations to values ... as long as the
anarchist manages not to impose his values in the analysis. The challenge in
this book will be not to impose³ a close relationship to republican values in
the analysis.

4 Why Religion?

As has been said, circumscribing republicanism, as a rethought version of
political liberalism, requires taking stock of religion and secularism. It is nec-
essary here to clearly explain the incompatibility of the republican approach
with several syntheses on European secularism, in particular that of Jean-Paul
Willaume (2015), which is nevertheless authoritative. Indeed, it seems wrong
to say, as Willaime does, that Europe, especially in its relations with public
schools, is ‘secular’. There is no sufficiently broad meaning of this word to make
it correspond to different empirical realities, unless the term is diluted to such
an extent that it no longer has a precise meaning. Gwénaële Calvès considers
the “secularism of recognition”, glimpsed and praised by Willaime, as being a
“premature diagnosis” (Calvès, 2022, p. 97). The emergence of a hypothetical
‘European secularism’ will depend less on an attempt to relax concepts so that
they adapt to a contrasting reality, than on unpredictable political develop-
ments in each country considered.

In fact, the thesis of a European secularism is plausible if we select liberal
and secularised countries, but is much less so if we seriously consider EU
member countries such as Ireland, Poland, Greece, or even Italy and Germany.
It is therefore worth shifting our focus, including towards the countries of East-
ern Europe, insufficiently taken into account. This requires an enlightenment
via political philosophy, because the hypothesis of a European secularism as
a vague “secularism of recognition” – or even a “secularism of recognition
and dialogue” as Willaime also defines it – becomes an opportunity for some
sociologists to question the French secular model, considered too strict, in
order to make way for a flexible model, legitimised today, among others, by
the figure of Jürgen Habermas after his theological turning point. Of course,
the French model of secularism is questionable and it will be criticised in this
book. But that is not to say that the theological entryism favoured by certain
intellectuals from Debray to Habermas to Willaime, should be a basis for this
criticism. For as Pettit, Joppke and Laborde have underlined it, secular liberal-
ism is universalisable.

5 Symmetrising Religions

In France, strongly marked by jihadist attacks, the question of secularism oscil-
lates between conservative exploitation on the one hand, secularism being
perceived as a bulwark against radicalism, and, on the other hand, dilution of
religious radicalism under the pretext of highlighting other parameters, such
as social deprivation. This second posture describes the ‘nothing-to-seeism’
(*rien-à-voirisme*), according to Jean Birnbaum’s expression (2016), of some
academics and politicians (including President Hollande) claiming that the
jihadist attacks on European soil had nothing to do with religion, but that
they were due to psychopaths, barbarians, victims of the economic crisis, the
internet, etc. Thus, on January 11, 2015, after the triple attack in Montrouge,
Charlie Hebdo and the Hypercacher kosher supermarket siege, Foreign Minis-
ter Laurent Fabius said, “I said in the clearest possible way – and we can never
repeat it enough – that this has nothing to do with Islam; Islam is used as a
pretext by these cheap heroes”.⁴
an extent that it no longer has a precise meaning. Gwénaële Calvès considers
the “secularism of recognition”, glimpsed and praised by Willaime, as being a
“premature diagnosis” (Calvès, 2022, p. 97). The emergence of a hypothetical
‘European secularism’ will depend less on an attempt to relax concepts so that
they adapt to a contrasting reality, than on unpredictable political develop-
ments in each country considered.

In fact, the thesis of a European secularism is plausible if we select liberal
and secularised countries, but is much less so if we seriously consider EU
member countries such as Ireland, Poland, Greece, or even Italy and Germany.
It is therefore worth shifting our focus, including towards the countries of East-
ern Europe, insufficiently taken into account. This requires an enlightenment
via political philosophy, because the hypothesis of a European secularism as
a vague “secularism of recognition” – or even a “secularism of recognition
and dialogue” as Willaime also defines it – becomes an opportunity for some
sociologists to question the French secular model, considered too strict, in
order to make way for a flexible model, legitimised today, among others, by
the figure of Jürgen Habermas after his theological turning point. Of course,
the French model of secularism is questionable and it will be criticised in this
book. But that is not to say that the theological entryism favoured by certain
intellectuals from Debray to Habermas to Willaime, should be a basis for this
criticism. For as Pettit, Joppke and Laborde have underlined it, secular liberal-
ism is universalisable.

5

Symmetrising Religions

In France, strongly marked by jihadist attacks, the question of secularism oscil-
lates between conservative exploitation on the one hand, secularism being
perceived as a bulwark against radicalism, and, on the other hand, dilution of
religious radicalism under the pretext of highlighting other parameters, such
as social deprivation. This second posture describes the ‘nothing-to-seeism’
(*rien-à-voirisme*), according to Jean Birnbaum’s expression (2016), of some
academics and politicians (including President Hollande) claiming that the
jihadist attacks on European soil had nothing to do with religion, but that
they were due to psychopaths, barbarians, victims of the economic crisis, the
internet, etc. Thus, on January 11, 2015, after the triple attack in Montrouge,
Charlie Hebdo and the Hypercacher kosher supermarket siege, Foreign Minis-
ter Laurent Fabius said, “I said in the clearest possible way – and we can never
repeat it enough – that this has nothing to do with Islam; Islam is used as a
pretext by these cheap heroes”.⁴
## 5.1 Terror in the Name of Islam Is also Part of Islam

This desire is commendable, consisting in not playing into the hands of right-wing extremists who, on the contrary, overexploit the link between these events and Islam for the purpose of stigmatising an entire population. On the other hand, how can we ignore the ideology guiding these acts, echoing the increasingly strict legislation of certain Muslim countries on blasphemy and the idea of an *Umma* as a political community beyond states? Violent extremism is unfortunately the current disease of Islam, writes John Tolan, and there is no other way out than to face it. Saying and repeating that Islam is fundamentally a 'religion of peace' which has nothing to do with religious fanaticism is not a solution. Nonetheless, let us say that "If we are to face the disease, we must also recognise the vital forces within Islam that are struggling to remedy it" (Tolan, 2022, p. 302). The recent knife attack in 2022 against Salman Rushdie and the reactions (scandalised or approving) of the various states to this event recall the reality of the doctrinal stakes, in Iran as in the Sunni world.

For if secular liberalism has a meaning, it is to be able to consider all religions equally. Let us therefore return, by broadening our perspective, to this eminently political idea that actions carried out in the name of a religion nevertheless have nothing to do with it. Can we say today that the reversal of the Roe v. Wade decision on abortion in the United States, in 2022, has 'nothing to do' with Catholic and evangelical Christianity? That authoritarian nationalisms raging in Central and Eastern Europe have nothing to do with Christianity, especially Catholic and Orthodox? Let us recall in this regard the reaction of Kremlin spokesman Dimitri Peskov to the worldwide commented behead-ing of Samuel Paty. Keen to avoid upsetting 'orthodox religious sentiments', he declared: "It is unacceptable to insult the feelings of believers, and it is unacceptable to kill people. Both are absolutely unacceptable" (The Moscow Times, 2020). The assumed equivalence between a decapitation and a drawing has a religious meaning. Indeed, the Russian fundamentalist orthodox are allied in the 'fight against blasphemy' with the most radical Muslims, and the Kremlin underlines that a newspaper like Charlie Hebdo could not exist in Russia as a nation whose 'fundamental religion' is Christianity.

Certainly, many jihadist attacks require, on the part of the ones who commit the murderous act, a strong exculturation, to refer to the famous analysis of the *Holy ignorance* offered by Olivier Roy. In this strict sense, we are faced with a standardised religion, portable, that can be rapidly mobilised and allows quick conversions in very different places. In other words, a religion so exculturated that it has little in common with what we call or would like to call 'religion'. We can even go further in this direction, by considering that the Islamic State is a pure mafia, the religious device being intended only to camouflage the
5.1 *Terror in the Name of Islam Is also Part of Islam*

This desire is commendable, consisting in not playing into the hands of right-
wing extremists who, on the contrary, overexploit the link between these
events and Islam for the purpose of stigmatising an entire population. On the
other hand, how can we ignore the ideology guiding these acts, echoing the
increasingly strict legislation of certain Muslim countries on blasphemy and
the idea of an *Umma* as a political community beyond states? Violent extrem-
ism is unfortunately the current disease of Islam, writes John Tolan, and there
is no other way out than to face it. Saying and repeating that Islam is funda-
mentally a ‘religion of peace’ which has nothing to do with religious fanaticism
is not a solution. Nonetheless, let us say that “If we are to face the disease, we
must also recognise the vital forces within Islam that are struggling to remedy
it” (Tolan, 2022, p. 302). The recent knife attack in 2022 against Salman Rushdie
and the reactions (scandalised or approving) of the various states to this event
recall the reality of the doctrinal stakes, in Iran as in the Sunni world.

For if secular liberalism has a meaning, it is to be able to consider all reli-
gions equally. Let us therefore return, by broadening our perspective, to this
eminently political idea that actions carried out in the name of a religion nev-
ertheless have nothing to do with it. Can we say today that the reversal of the
Roe v. Wade decision on abortion in the United States, in 2022, has ‘nothing
to do’ with Catholic and evangelical Christianity? That authoritarian national-
isms raging in Central and Eastern Europe have nothing to do with Christiany,
especially Catholic and Orthodox? Let us recall in this regard the reaction
of Kremlin spokesman Dimitri Peskov to the worldwide commented behead-
ing of Samuel Paty. Keen to avoid upsetting ‘orthodox religious sentiments’, he
declared: “It is unacceptable to insult the feelings of believers, and it is unace-
ceptable to kill people. Both are absolutely unacceptable” (The Moscow Times,
2020). The assumed equivalence between a decapitation and a drawing has a
religious meaning. Indeed, the Russian fundamentalist orthodox are allied in
the ‘fight against blasphemy’ with the most radical Muslims, and the Kremlin
underlines that a newspaper like Charlie Hebdo could not exist in Russia as a
nation whose ‘fundamental religion’ is Christianity.

Certainly, many jihadist attacks require, on the part of the ones who commit the murderous act, a strong exculturation, to refer to the famous analysis of the *Holy ignorance* offered by Olivier Roy. In this strict sense, we are faced with a standardised religion, portable, that can be rapidly mobilised and allows quick conversions in very different places. In other words, a religion so exculturated that it has little in common with what we call or would like to call ‘religion’. We can even go further in this direction, by considering that the Islamic State is a pure mafia, the religious device being intended only to camouflage the
criminal organisation. Nevertheless, the murderous act requires a whole context of arguments (blasphemy, disbelief, attack on the person whose sensitivity is hurt, etc.) which, in turn, do not have 'nothing to do' with religion.

## 5.2 Islamophobia and Christophobia

Beyond the question of terrorist attacks, and returning to the more ‘daily’ functioning of the courts in connection with the more or less liberal European laws, the recent ruling of the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) *Rabczewska v. Poland*, in September 2022, is particularly interesting in terms of symmetrising religions. The ruling condemns the Polish state’s decision to punish a singer who claimed in a major newspaper that the Bible was written by a guy drunk on wine and smoking some kind of weed (*jakiś napruty winem i palący jakieś zioła*). But Austria was not convicted, in *E.S. v. Austria*, for punishing a woman who claimed, in a political reflection seminar, that Mohammed had practices that could be described as paedophile because, according to the *hadits*, his favorite wife was very young.

Although this differential between Christianity and Islam can be explained by the different contexts of enunciation (Christian majority in Poland, Muslim minority in Austria), a European judge, by virtue of his dissenting opinion, openly lamented that Europe was unjust because it would protect Islam from denigrating religious doctrines, but not Christianity, which he said should also be treated favourably (in the name of fairness ...). The judge's arguments are fragile overall: they do not hide his ideological preference for Christianity. Nonetheless, he does identify important points. Is a newspaper with a large circulation (*Rabczewska v. Poland*) not more ‘public’ and more likely to have an impact on consciences than a political reflection seminar (*E.S. v. Austria*), which few people attended?

If violence in the name of a religion – whether physical or more symbolic in the form of intimidation and illiberal laws – often has something to do with that religion, it is simply because religion does not exist outside of what humans and human groups do. This is what makes symmetrising interesting: if people describe a drawing from Jyllands-Posten and Charlie Hebdo as ‘Islamophobic’ – knowing that this word often includes an accusation of immorality or even of a criminal offence – then it is enlightening to compare this accusation with that of ‘Christophobia’ in Poland. It is formulated by intellectuals and political leaders about relatively similar images, though the contexts and the characters drawn differ: Mohammed, Jesus, Mary. We can, then, grasp the limits of certain anthropological theories that focus almost exclusively on Islam in favour of postcolonial perspectives, and do not see the (illiberal) conservative exploitations of the theme of ‘wounded religious sensibilities’, a new line of attack by
criminal organisation. Nevertheless, the murderous act requires a whole context of arguments (blasphemy, disbelief, attack on the person whose sensitivity is hurt, etc.) which, in turn, do not have 'nothing to do' with religion.

## 5.2 Islamophobia and Christophobia

Beyond the question of terrorist attacks, and returning to the more ‘daily’ functioning of the courts in connection with the more or less liberal European laws, the recent ruling of the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) *Rabczewska v. Poland*, in September 2022, is particularly interesting in terms of symmetrising religions. The ruling condemns the Polish state’s decision to punish a singer who claimed in a major newspaper that the Bible was written by a guy drunk on wine and smoking some kind of weed (*jakiś napruty winem i palący jakieś zioła*). But Austria was not convicted, in *E.S. v. Austria*, for punishing a woman who claimed, in a political reflection seminar, that Mohammed had practices that could be described as paedophile because, according to the *hadits*, his favorite wife was very young.

Although this differential between Christianity and Islam can be explained by the different contexts of enunciation (Christian majority in Poland, Muslim minority in Austria), a European judge, by virtue of his dissenting opinion, openly lamented that Europe was unjust because it would protect Islam from denigrating religious doctrines, but not Christianity, which he said should also be treated favourably (in the name of fairness ...). The judge's arguments are fragile overall: they do not hide his ideological preference for Christianity. Nonetheless, he does identify important points. Is a newspaper with a large circulation (*Rabczewska v. Poland*) not more ‘public’ and more likely to have an impact on consciences than a political reflection seminar (*E.S. v. Austria*), which few people attended?

If violence in the name of a religion – whether physical or more symbolic in the form of intimidation and illiberal laws – often has something to do with that religion, it is simply because religion does not exist outside of what humans and human groups do. This is what makes symmetrising interesting: if people describe a drawing from Jyllands-Posten and Charlie Hebdo as ‘Islamophobic’ – knowing that this word often includes an accusation of immorality or even of a criminal offence – then it is enlightening to compare this accusation with that of ‘Christophobia’ in Poland. It is formulated by intellectuals and political leaders about relatively similar images, though the contexts and the characters drawn differ: Mohammed, Jesus, Mary. We can, then, grasp the limits of certain anthropological theories that focus almost exclusively on Islam in favour of postcolonial perspectives, and do not see the (illiberal) conservative exploitations of the theme of ‘wounded religious sensibilities’, a new line of attack by
devotees against political liberalism since the accusation of ‘blasphemy’ has become archaic in societies based on human rights (Al-Azmeh, 2020). Poland being a site, in the heart of Europe, of Catholic political-religious radicality, studying it enriches our understanding of political liberalism, republicanism and secularism. These are all ideals that are said to be threatened, sometimes by Islam, other times by their own imperialist content (identitarian secularism, ethnocentric liberalism), but are rarely related to the so close clerical threat and its link with the far-right, in power in several European countries.

## 6 Political Liberalism and Critical Republicanism

Yet is it possible to consider religions as equal under a common criterion (liberal principles), while taking into account their differences? Some argue that liberalism is a 'western' invention, more adapted to Christianity than to other religions such as Islam (Asad, Brown, Butler, & Mahmood, 2013). However, authors who present themselves as 'liberals' discuss this judgment, such as Christian Joppke (2017), Cécile Laborde (2017), Andrew March (2019) and Aziz Al-Azmeh (2020). According to these authors, liberalism (and its republican variant) is susceptible of being adopted everywhere, provided it is sufficiently adapted by taking into account the contemporary mutations of religious expressions, ideals of individual autonomy, market processes, national attachments and international relations. It is a broad program, and the hope here is to at least clarify its issues.

Therefore, the question of religions, already crucial for John Rawls and Philip Pettit, cannot be avoided here. Indeed, if the Republic, a Durkheimian and Pettitian ideal, carries today the principle of secularism, which includes the right of freedom of conscience that itself took shape on a historical religious ground, then a question to ask is to what extent this or that form of secularism is in affinity with certain religions and not others. This is a question asked by anthropologists Talal Asad and Saba Mahmood, accompanied by Wendy Brown and Judith Butler (Asad, Brown, Butler, & Mahmood, 2013). Yet, these very influential authors tend to confuse social sciences and political theory.

Certainly, Asad and Mahmood shed light on empirical data and this is crucial for any reflection on republicanism and more generally political liberalism. Why do Muslims feel hurt by drawings from Jyllands-Posten or Charlie Hebdo? Among other things because they have a mimetic faith, consisting in holding their prophet Mohamed for a companion and a model of daily life. Comparing with wounded Polish Catholic sensibilities, this model of mimetic faith is illuminating: just as Muslims feel they are Mohamed's companions, so
devotees against political liberalism since the accusation of ‘blasphemy’ has
become archaic in societies based on human rights (Al-Azmeh, 2020). Poland
being a site, in the heart of Europe, of Catholic political-religious radicality,
studying it enriches our understanding of political liberalism, republicanism
and secularism. These are all ideals that are said to be threatened, sometimes
by Islam, other times by their own imperialist content (identitarian secular-
ism, ethnocentric liberalism), but are rarely related to the so close clerical
threat and its link with the far-right, in power in several European countries.

6 Political Liberalism and Critical Republicanism

Yet is it possible to consider religions as equal under a common criterion (lib-
eral principles), while taking into account their differences? Some argue that
liberalism is a 'western' invention, more adapted to Christianity than to other
religions such as Islam (Asad, Brown, Butler, & Mahmood, 2013). However,
authors who present themselves as 'liberals' discuss this judgment, such as
Christian Joppke (2017), Cécile Laborde (2017), Andrew March (2019) and Aziz
Al-Azmeh (2020). According to these authors, liberalism (and its republican
variant) is susceptible of being adopted everywhere, provided it is sufficiently
adapted by taking into account the contemporary mutations of religious
expressions, ideals of individual autonomy, market processes, national attach-
ments and international relations. It is a broad program, and the hope here is
to at least clarify its issues.

Therefore, the question of religions, already crucial for John Rawls and Philip
Pettit, cannot be avoided here. Indeed, if the Republic, a Durkheimian and
Pettitian ideal, carries today the principle of secularism, which includes the
right of freedom of conscience that itself took shape on a historical religious
ground, then a question to ask is to what extent this or that form of secular-
ism is in affinity with certain religions and not others. This is a question asked
by anthropologists Talal Asad and Saba Mahmood, accompanied by Wendy
Brown and Judith Butler (Asad, Brown, Butler, & Mahmood, 2013). Yet, these
very influential authors tend to confuse social sciences and political theory.

Certainly, Asad and Mahmood shed light on empirical data and this is cru-
cial for any reflection on republicanism and more generally political liberal-
ism. Why do Muslims feel hurt by drawings from Jyllands-Posten or Charlie
Hebdo? Among other things because they have a mimetic faith, consisting in
holding their prophet Mohamed for a companion and a model of daily life.
Comparing with wounded Polish Catholic sensibilities, this model of mimetic
faith is illuminating: just as Muslims feel they are Mohamed's companions, so
too do Polish Catholics feel they are companions of the Virgin Mary. They feel they live with her on a daily basis, and so when she is 'caricatured', they feel or say they feel pain as if they or a close family member were being attacked (Urbanski, 2022a).

Nonetheless, in terms of political theory, the post-colonial anthropology of Islam, that of Asad and Mahmood, is eminently questionable. Firstly, these authors do not take into account the political shaping of what is named in France the 'case of the caricatures' (*l'affaire des caricatures*) via embassies and international relays. Secondly, they confuse history and political theory. The fact that religions are not in affinity with European legislation on freedoms of conscience and of expression does not mean that we should adapt this legislation or the supposedly 'Judeo-Christian culture' that supports it. For if this were the case, it would be necessary to consider that the wounded Polish Catholic sensibilities, which function in a similar way to those of the Muslims highlighted by Asad and Mahmood, should also be considered. Do we truly want to associate ourselves with the denunciation of Western liberalism by the far right parties of Central Europe, who do so by using arguments similar to those that Asad and Mahmood invite us to take into account?

That being said, we must reflect on our use of the word 'religion' because of the rather particular history of freedom of conscience, as an essential element of political liberalism. Cécile Laborde's strategy of disintegration holds our attention here. It consists in taking note of the fact that religion should not enjoy a particular status in liberal societies: it should not benefit from privileges, but neither should it suffer from contempt. In this vision, it is not necessary for example that State and Church be separated, if the latter is not a source of division, is not accessible to reason, and not all-encompassing.

This strategy is secular and republican. Admittedly, it leads to a criticism of the prohibition in France of ostensibly wearing religious symbols in public schools. Nevertheless, Laborde recognises that the hijab, for example, is very often an instrument of domination of men over women. Because, on a more general level, this disintegration is methodological, for the purposes of legal judgments (and not ontological). Laborde, unlike the anthropologist Daniel Dubuisson for example, is against the argument of giving up the word 'religion', which though it is not easily definable, is nevertheless identifiable. The theory of disintegration is set out below because it allows us to draw a parallel with social sciences, which also tend to reduce religion to its particular components even when they call themselves holists. Durkheim thus considered that religion is the expression of social forces: in short, the believer feels a collective moral pressure that exceeds him. We see here how much sociological holism joins the neo-republican political philosophy.
too do Polish Catholics feel they are companions of the Virgin Mary. They feel they live with her on a daily basis, and so when she is 'caricatured', they feel or say they feel pain as if they or a close family member were being attacked (Urbanski, 2022a).

Nonetheless, in terms of political theory, the post-colonial anthropology of Islam, that of Asad and Mahmood, is eminently questionable. Firstly, these authors do not take into account the political shaping of what is named in France the 'case of the caricatures' (*l'affaire des caricatures*) via embassies and international relays. Secondly, they confuse history and political theory. The fact that religions are not in affinity with European legislation on freedoms of conscience and of expression does not mean that we should adapt this legislation or the supposedly 'Judeo-Christian culture' that supports it. For if this were the case, it would be necessary to consider that the wounded Polish Catholic sensibilities, which function in a similar way to those of the Muslims highlighted by Asad and Mahmood, should also be considered. Do we truly want to associate ourselves with the denunciation of Western liberalism by the far right parties of Central Europe, who do so by using arguments similar to those that Asad and Mahmood invite us to take into account?

That being said, we must reflect on our use of the word 'religion' because of the rather particular history of freedom of conscience, as an essential element of political liberalism. Cécile Laborde's strategy of disintegration holds our attention here. It consists in taking note of the fact that religion should not enjoy a particular status in liberal societies: it should not benefit from privileges, but neither should it suffer from contempt. In this vision, it is not necessary for example that State and Church be separated, if the latter is not a source of division, is not accessible to reason, and not all-encompassing.

This strategy is secular and republican. Admittedly, it leads to a criticism of the prohibition in France of ostensibly wearing religious symbols in public schools. Nevertheless, Laborde recognises that the hijab, for example, is very often an instrument of domination of men over women. Because, on a more general level, this disintegration is methodological, for the purposes of legal judgments (and not ontological). Laborde, unlike the anthropologist Daniel Dubuisson for example, is against the argument of giving up the word 'religion', which though it is not easily definable, is nevertheless identifiable. The theory of disintegration is set out below because it allows us to draw a parallel with social sciences, which also tend to reduce religion to its particular components even when they call themselves holists. Durkheim thus considered that religion is the expression of social forces: in short, the believer feels a collective moral pressure that exceeds him. We see here how much sociological holism joins the neo-republican political philosophy.
## 6.1 *Negative Freedom and Non-Domination*

The hybrid approach of Laborde and Joppke, in the sense that they are both liberal but refer to the republicanism of Philip Pettit, invites us to recall an important point: the boundaries between liberalism and republicanism are not watertight, including in France. Apart from its conservative manifestations (Dominique Schnapper, Pierre-André Taguieff), republicanism can be understood as a particular version of political liberalism (Spitz, 2005), and more broadly as a path among others to analyse negative freedom according to Isaiah Berlin: freedom *from* rather than freedom *to*.

While Berlin favoured freedom from interference, the Republican Philip Pettit, wary of the neo-liberal consequences of this type of definition, conceptualises the freedom not to be dominated, which is still a negative freedom. In this sense, the Pettitian approach is very different from the (French) communitarian versions of republicanism that value the ‘community of citizens’ as a positive freedom, by confusing it with a non-reflective culture of secularism.⁵

That being said, Pettitian republicanism is not fully liberal. Indeed, if we were to make a distinction between republicanism and liberalism, by typifying positions, we would say that liberals think that the antonym of freedom is interference, whereas critical republicans believe that the appropriate term is domination. However, this precisely only works if one typifies these positions. By softening the perspective, we note with Kymlicka that a ‘liberal’ such as Rawls considered the conditions necessary for self-respect as a ‘primary good’; that is to say the conditions that provide a person with the firm conviction that their conception of property, their life project deserves to be implemented (Kymlicka, 1995).

The question therefore is about the conditions of non-domination, or even of recognition: every person needs other people and institutions to recognise that his or her life project deserves to be executed. For this reason, Pettit would say that this person must not be dominated; in other words, no arbitrary interference can be exercised, even in the future, on the formation of his or her life plans.

It remains to be seen whether certain life projects, though chosen with full knowledge of the facts and providing a sense of personal fullness, do not deserve to be executed as much as others. To what extent should the life project of a prestigious Harvard mathematician who decides to count all the blades of grass on an island for the rest of her life – instead of putting her talents to the benefit of the community – be seen as a primary good? Rawls offered this example, and it was widely discussed. Kitcher, for example, thinks that the grass counter's way of life is not an authentic primary good, because she does not direct it towards the community.
## 6.1 *Negative Freedom and Non-Domination*

The hybrid approach of Laborde and Joppke, in the sense that they are both liberal but refer to the republicanism of Philip Pettit, invites us to recall an important point: the boundaries between liberalism and republicanism are not watertight, including in France. Apart from its conservative manifestations (Dominique Schnapper, Pierre-André Taguieff), republicanism can be understood as a particular version of political liberalism (Spitz, 2005), and more broadly as a path among others to analyse negative freedom according to Isaiah Berlin: freedom *from* rather than freedom *to*.

While Berlin favoured freedom from interference, the Republican Philip Pettit, wary of the neo-liberal consequences of this type of definition, conceptualises the freedom not to be dominated, which is still a negative freedom. In this sense, the Pettitian approach is very different from the (French) communitarian versions of republicanism that value the ‘community of citizens’ as a positive freedom, by confusing it with a non-reflective culture of secularism.⁵

That being said, Pettitian republicanism is not fully liberal. Indeed, if we were to make a distinction between republicanism and liberalism, by typifying positions, we would say that liberals think that the antonym of freedom is interference, whereas critical republicans believe that the appropriate term is domination. However, this precisely only works if one typifies these positions. By softening the perspective, we note with Kymlicka that a ‘liberal’ such as Rawls considered the conditions necessary for self-respect as a ‘primary good’; that is to say the conditions that provide a person with the firm conviction that their conception of property, their life project deserves to be implemented (Kymlicka, 1995).

The question therefore is about the conditions of non-domination, or even of recognition: every person needs other people and institutions to recognise that his or her life project deserves to be executed. For this reason, Pettit would say that this person must not be dominated; in other words, no arbitrary interference can be exercised, even in the future, on the formation of his or her life plans.

It remains to be seen whether certain life projects, though chosen with full knowledge of the facts and providing a sense of personal fullness, do not deserve to be executed as much as others. To what extent should the life project of a prestigious Harvard mathematician who decides to count all the blades of grass on an island for the rest of her life – instead of putting her talents to the benefit of the community – be seen as a primary good? Rawls offered this example, and it was widely discussed. Kitcher, for example, thinks that the grass counter's way of life is not an authentic primary good, because she does not direct it towards the community.
However, a liberal could retort that inviting an adult person, against their initial wish, to move towards the community would require a formal ranking of conceptions of well-being, which by definition are quite subjective, and that would run counter to the principle of non-interference. The crucial point is that these typical discussions do not suffice to draw a line between those who are liberal and those who are not. Kitcher is indeed a Liberal. Yet, just like Mill, Rawls and Dewey, he questions his own tradition.

Essentially, liberalism and critical republicanism come together in their criticism of positive freedom, which Isaiah Berlin was already dismissing as the freedom of the Ancients, in his influential *Two Concepts of Liberty* of 1958. On the contrary, the promotion of positive freedom is clear today in authors as different as

- political scientist Tariq Modood, promoting the recognition of religion by the state to better integrate Muslims;

- the jurist Joseph Weiler, defending the presence of crucifixes in public schools on the grounds that secularity is a political position that divides society and manifests itself, in particular, by class walls free of religious signs;

- the sociologist John Holmwood, criticising the very principle of a teaching about religions that would put too much distance between the complete religious personality of children (whole selves) for the benefit of a secular majority that is not respectful enough, according to him, towards minority ethnic identities (Urbanski, 2022b).

But the promotion of positive freedom is not necessarily religious. So-called republican thinking, in its secular version that, for instance, orders the prohibition of the wearing of ostensible religious symbols by parents accompanying school trips, also consists in promoting a positive (state) freedom, requiring these people prove their adherence to republican culture before they can contribute to public affairs (*res publica*). Thus, political liberalism's criteria do not apply to a particular religion or ideology. And this is crucial: liberal principles have certainly found a particularly successful elaboration in European and North American law, but they are nonetheless appropriable by everyone.

## 6.2 *Universalisable Principles*

To say otherwise would be perilous. Indeed, this would amount to attributing to the inhabitants of a particular cultural area the responsibility of political principles. This is difficult, since the place of incubation of the latter in a given space does not change the fact that each one of us is “no more or less than an heir likely to join or reject them” regardless of geographical location (Avon,
However, a liberal could retort that inviting an adult person, against their initial wish, to move towards the community would require a formal ranking of conceptions of well-being, which by definition are quite subjective, and that would run counter to the principle of non-interference. The crucial point is that these typical discussions do not suffice to draw a line between those who are liberal and those who are not. Kitcher is indeed a Liberal. Yet, just like Mill, Rawls and Dewey, he questions his own tradition.

Essentially, liberalism and critical republicanism come together in their criticism of positive freedom, which Isaiah Berlin was already dismissing as the freedom of the Ancients, in his influential *Two Concepts of Liberty* of 1958. On the contrary, the promotion of positive freedom is clear today in authors as different as

- political scientist Tariq Modood, promoting the recognition of religion by the state to better integrate Muslims;

- the jurist Joseph Weiler, defending the presence of crucifixes in public schools on the grounds that secularity is a political position that divides society and manifests itself, in particular, by class walls free of religious signs;

- the sociologist John Holmwood, criticising the very principle of a teaching about religions that would put too much distance between the complete religious personality of children (whole selves) for the benefit of a secular majority that is not respectful enough, according to him, towards minority ethnic identities (Urbanski, 2022b).

But the promotion of positive freedom is not necessarily religious. So-called republican thinking, in its secular version that, for instance, orders the prohibition of the wearing of ostensible religious symbols by parents accompanying school trips, also consists in promoting a positive (state) freedom, requiring these people prove their adherence to republican culture before they can contribute to public affairs (*res publica*). Thus, political liberalism's criteria do not apply to a particular religion or ideology. And this is crucial: liberal principles have certainly found a particularly successful elaboration in European and North American law, but they are nonetheless appropriable by everyone.

## 6.2 *Universalisable Principles*

To say otherwise would be perilous. Indeed, this would amount to attributing to the inhabitants of a particular cultural area the responsibility of political principles. This is difficult, since the place of incubation of the latter in a given space does not change the fact that each one of us is “no more or less than an heir likely to join or reject them” regardless of geographical location (Avon,
2020, p. 21). Christianity was born in Palestine: was it reserved for the inhabitants of this region? Islam was born in Arabia: did it not find a place in the Maghreb, then Southern Asia? Certainly, liberalism is not a religion. However, like many of them, it formulates proposals for political organisation, which everyone can try to appropriate, defend, implement or reject. This is currently happening in Poland or Tunisia, for example, in a salient way.

The goal, of course, is not to minimise the geopolitical stakes that play a part in the more or less assured acceptance, depending on the regions of the world, of the principles of political liberalism. As Dominique Avon explains in his book *La liberté de conscience (The liberty of conscience)* published in 2020, the history of this idea and this right, diversely accepted among religions and different cultural areas, does not prevent us from grasping the power games between states, or the unequal economic flows. Nor is it a question of reducing the elements of social criticism, available outside religion, which foster a sense of illegitimacy of liberal nations: criticism of the responsibility of European states in the war in Palestine, Libya or Yemen; questioning of the link between the Gulf monarchies and the Western empire led by the United States.

Finally, when public school and citizenship education are at stake, conceptual antinomies between republicanism and liberalism fade somewhat. Indeed, though republican thinking is originally centred on the state, whereas liberalism is centred on the individual, the question becomes more complicated as soon as the state carries an educational mission: links appear between the liberal aim, which seeks to “place the lives of persons as much as possible in the private domain, to protect them from public interference”, and the democratic aim that “concerns the public character of individuals [...] and finds a strong expression in its desire for citizens to identify with the political community” (Levinson, 2002, p. 107). That is why school Republican secularism has a very special status:

> If a secular regime of civic and inclusive equality presupposes a collective practice of public reason, this practice itself presupposes, to be effective, an education that trains individuals to its epistemic challenges. [...] Here we find the reversal of the primacy of liberalism in the primacy of democracy: the liberal ideal introduced to the democratic ideal as to its logical consequence – but it turns out that democracy, or more precisely democratic socialisation, is itself the condition of existence of a liberal society. (Pranchère, 2023, p. 139)

The boundaries between liberalism and republicanism (but also socialism, as we will see) are therefore real but not watertight (Laden, 2006). By
2020, p. 21). Christianity was born in Palestine: was it reserved for the inhabitants of this region? Islam was born in Arabia: did it not find a place in the Maghreb, then Southern Asia? Certainly, liberalism is not a religion. However, like many of them, it formulates proposals for political organisation, which everyone can try to appropriate, defend, implement or reject. This is currently happening in Poland or Tunisia, for example, in a salient way.

The goal, of course, is not to minimise the geopolitical stakes that play a part in the more or less assured acceptance, depending on the regions of the world, of the principles of political liberalism. As Dominique Avon explains in his book *La liberté de conscience (The liberty of conscience)* published in 2020, the history of this idea and this right, diversely accepted among religions and different cultural areas, does not prevent us from grasping the power games between states, or the unequal economic flows. Nor is it a question of reducing the elements of social criticism, available outside religion, which foster a sense of illegitimacy of liberal nations: criticism of the responsibility of European states in the war in Palestine, Libya or Yemen; questioning of the link between the Gulf monarchies and the Western empire led by the United States.

Finally, when public school and citizenship education are at stake, conceptual antinomies between republicanism and liberalism fade somewhat. Indeed, though republican thinking is originally centred on the state, whereas liberalism is centred on the individual, the question becomes more complicated as soon as the state carries an educational mission: links appear between the liberal aim, which seeks to “place the lives of persons as much as possible in the private domain, to protect them from public interference”, and the democratic aim that “concerns the public character of individuals [...] and finds a strong expression in its desire for citizens to identify with the political community” (Levinson, 2002, p. 107). That is why school Republican secularism has a very special status:

> If a secular regime of civic and inclusive equality presupposes a collective practice of public reason, this practice itself presupposes, to be effective, an education that trains individuals to its epistemic challenges. [...] Here we find the reversal of the primacy of liberalism in the primacy of democracy: the liberal ideal introduced to the democratic ideal as to its logical consequence – but it turns out that democracy, or more precisely democratic socialisation, is itself the condition of existence of a liberal society. (Pranchère, 2023, p. 139)

The boundaries between liberalism and republicanism (but also socialism, as we will see) are therefore real but not watertight (Laden, 2006). By
continuing to explore these interfaces, in an intellectual context where posi-
tions tend to stiffen, it is crucial to be clear without giving in to public postures
that leave little room for nuance, which is an academic's duty:

On migration, Islam, populism and activism, French academics too often rely on feelings, thus feeding the less rational political horizons [...]. Multiculturalist slogans, memorial claims of all sorts, the feeling that France's Muslims are persecuted: these phenomena cannot be associated in any way with the terrorist threat. The rejection of clericalism, which seeks to win back secularised Muslims, the rejection of competing memories, and the criticism of identitarism imposed on individuals: so many political positions present among democrats of all stripes and which do not fall under the 'lepenisation' of minds. [...] We do not expect academics to let loose, but on the contrary to behave. Those who sneer at the appeal to decency today should nonetheless understand that it is a protection against an ultra populism that bides its time without saying a word. [...] Let us not offer it fuel. (Schaub, 2021, pp. 20-21)

7 Disaggregating Religion

Accordingly, when it comes to studying the specificity of phenomena com-
monly grouped under the label ‘religion’ which are of great importance to the
liberal political tradition, the methodological challenge is to develop tools that
allow one to not depend on a vague notion, rooted in a specific culture and
developed by people (often in a position of religious authority) who have a
vested interest in the existence of this category (Dubuisson, 2019). In order to
do this, one must enter the field of law and political theory, which, in a lib-
eral and/or republican regime, usually approach ‘religion’ through the use of
non-religious categories (e.g., conceptions of the good life).

European law preferably captures religion through the notion of individ-
ual consciousness. From a strictly anthropological point of view, this posture
could be seen as influenced by Christianity (Dumont, 1991), and one for which
Islam, for example, would not be prepared because of a cultural distance (Asad,
Brown, Butler, & Mahmood, 2013). Yet if we leave anthropology and enter the
sphere of law, the following clarification is necessary:

The preference for a view of religious freedom that favours individual
choice in matters of religion over more communal ideas of religion is the
inevitable result of the fact that the European Convention on Human
continuing to explore these interfaces, in an intellectual context where posi-
tions tend to stiffen, it is crucial to be clear without giving in to public postures
that leave little room for nuance, which is an academic's duty:

On migration, Islam, populism and activism, French academics too often
rely on feelings, thus feeding the less rational political horizons [...]. Mul-
ticulturalist slogans, memorial claims of all sorts, the feeling that France's
Muslims are persecuted: these phenomena cannot be associated in any
way with the terrorist threat. The rejection of clericalism, which seeks
to win back secularised Muslims, the rejection of competing memories,
and the criticism of identitarism imposed on individuals: so many polit-
ical positions present among democrats of all stripes and which do not
fall under the 'lepenisation' of minds. [...] We do not expect academics to
let loose, but on the contrary to behave. Those who sneer at the appeal
to decency today should nonetheless understand that it is a protection
against an ultra populism that bides its time without saying a word. [...]
Let us not offer it fuel. (Schaub, 2021, pp. 20-21)

7 Disaggregating Religion

Accordingly, when it comes to studying the specificity of phenomena com-
monly grouped under the label ‘religion’ which are of great importance to the
liberal political tradition, the methodological challenge is to develop tools that
allow one to not depend on a vague notion, rooted in a specific culture and
developed by people (often in a position of religious authority) who have a
vested interest in the existence of this category (Dubuisson, 2019). In order to
do this, one must enter the field of law and political theory, which, in a lib-
eral and/or republican regime, usually approach ‘religion’ through the use of
non-religious categories (e.g., conceptions of the good life).

European law preferably captures religion through the notion of individ-
ual consciousness. From a strictly anthropological point of view, this posture
could be seen as influenced by Christianity (Dumont, 1991), and one for which
Islam, for example, would not be prepared because of a cultural distance (Asad,
Brown, Butler, & Mahmood, 2013). Yet if we leave anthropology and enter the
sphere of law, the following clarification is necessary:

The preference for a view of religious freedom that favours individual
choice in matters of religion over more communal ideas of religion is the
inevitable result of the fact that the European Convention on Human
Rights is a text committed to the protection of liberal values and that
signatory states are committed to being liberal societies that value liberal
principles. (McCrea, 2018, p. 152)

The point is not to play liberal principles against religious currents that value orthopraxia, and are therefore less accustomed to the more Christian centrality of notions of conscience and individual choices. Rather, it is a matter of prioritising stakes, by taking into account the constraints of any large-scale society, such as those European nations that signed the European Convention on Human Rights.

## 7.1 Genealogism, Community, Society

It is indeed at the junction between sociology, law, and political theory that the modalities of constitution and maintenance of groups are played out. For here, we are faced, as we said in the general introduction, with a problematic that is both ontological and political: if law informs modern ideology, sociology is a product of it. More precisely, it is the place of a nagging distinction between community and society, on two levels.

On a political level, community is often brandished by conservatives such as Romantic counter-revolutionaries, who see it as the remedy against the truly liberal disconnect. It is also claimed by nationalists such as French political parties invoking the homeland, who seek to counter neo-liberal deliberation and its new society, too anonymous and made of superficial links, guided only by an instrumental interest (Karsenti & Lemieux, 2017). Ontologically, the distinction between community and society is expressed a little differently. The societal bond is a posteriori: it unites beings only superficially and to the extent of their will; while the community bond is a priori: it does not belong to the will of its members, and it immerses them in a totality that shapes them through and through (Kaufmann, 2011).

The question then is what the respective places of community and society in modern times might be. In connection with the above, the following question must be asked: if the nation-states adhering to the European Convention on Human Rights thereby value a Christian conception of religion, is this a community sign that requires equalising the conditions of secular liberalism as other communities (in the sense of non-Christians) take up more and more space in Europe? This is what Asad, Brown, Butler and Mahmood (2013) suggest, insofar as they attribute the whole strength of their explanatory model to the genealogy of the notion and the right of freedom of conscience: this genealogy, according to them, is Protestant, meaning Western secularism would essentially be Protestant (they sometimes say: Judeo-Christian). The problem
Rights is a text committed to the protection of liberal values and that
signatory states are committed to being liberal societies that value liberal
principles. (McCrea, 2018, p. 152)

The point is not to play liberal principles against religious currents that value orthopraxia, and are therefore less accustomed to the more Christian centrality of notions of conscience and individual choices. Rather, it is a matter of prioritising stakes, by taking into account the constraints of any large-scale society, such as those European nations that signed the European Convention on Human Rights.

7.1 *Genealogism, Community, Society*

It is indeed at the junction between sociology, law, and political theory that the modalities of constitution and maintenance of groups are played out. For here, we are faced, as we said in the general introduction, with a problematic that is both ontological and political: if law informs modern ideology, sociology is a product of it. More precisely, it is the place of a nagging distinction between community and society, on two levels.

On a political level, community is often brandished by conservatives such as Romantic counter-revolutionaries, who see it as the remedy against the truly liberal disconnect. It is also claimed by nationalists such as French political parties invoking the homeland, who seek to counter neo-liberal deliberation and its new society, too anonymous and made of superficial links, guided only by an instrumental interest (Karsenti & Lemieux, 2017). Ontologically, the distinction between community and society is expressed a little differently. The societal bond is a posteriori: it unites beings only superficially and to the extent of their will; while the community bond is a priori: it does not belong to the will of its members, and it immerses them in a totality that shapes them through and through (Kaufmann, 2011).

The question then is what the respective places of community and society
in modern times might be. In connection with the above, the following ques-
tion must be asked: if the nation-states adhering to the European Convention
on Human Rights thereby value a Christian conception of religion, is this a
community sign that requires equalising the conditions of secular liberalism
as other communities (in the sense of non-Christians) take up more and more
space in Europe? This is what Asad, Brown, Butler and Mahmood (2013) sug-
gest, insofar as they attribute the whole strength of their explanatory model to
the genealogy of the notion and the right of freedom of conscience: this gene-
alogy, according to them, is Protestant, meaning Western secularism would
essentially be Protestant (they sometimes say: Judeo-Christian). The problem
with this explanation is that it does not give legal instruments their real place in modern societies. To show this, it is necessary to take into account the specific dynamics of modernity and the related constraints in terms of social forms that occur there.

If one follows Durkheim, there is a logic that is proper to social forms: community is possible – and desirable – only in “small groups”, in which “we can know each other intimately”. As social aggregates become larger, society weighs less heavily on the individual who finds himself naturally ‘emancipated’: social integration is no longer based on ‘status’ or function, but on a ‘contract’. The union and confusion of consciences, so “clumped that none can move independently from the others”, make way for the contractual rationalisation of conducts and for the division of labour, both being synonymous not of similarity, but of complementarity. [...] The tension between the sociological perspective on the difference between ‘society’ and ‘community’ favoured by Durkheim and the subjective perspective proposed by Weber is entirely relevant here. If, as Weber suggests, subjective postures are not determined by social forms, however, they are more or less adjusted to their morphology or geometry. To extend, through the category-based imagination, the topology of the circle specific to reciprocal links and mutual obligations onto the large floating society of anonymous transgresses the law of quantitative determination of a group. In doing so, it exposes itself to real errors of category, but also of geometry. (Kaufmann, 2023, pp. 72, 76)

This is where the social bond, of a community type, necessarily gives way to regulation and law. Not because of any arbitrary prevalence of the state, but simply because in a large society, one cannot have a communal experience with all its members: this type of experience must give way to category-based projections, on the model of the famous imagined communities (Benedict Anderson) that are nations. Certainly, the latter are still likely to descend into artificialism. Nonetheless, this is not a sufficient reason to reduce society's order, to that of the community: as Durkheim showed, modern societies evolve in their morphology and physiology far beyond the simple cultural genealogy staged by Asad, Brown, Butler and Mahmood (2013).

Therefore, it is by entering the sphere of political theory and of law as an impersonal third party, that the *genealogical* consequences of the postcolonial anthropology of Asad and Mahmood can be overcome. To do this, Cécile Laborde's proposal, consisting in disaggregating religion in relation to actual legal practices in different countries, seems fundamental. In order to assess the
with this explanation is that it does not give legal instruments their real place in modern societies. To show this, it is necessary to take into account the specific dynamics of modernity and the related constraints in terms of social forms that occur there.

If one follows Durkheim, there is a logic that is proper to social forms: community is possible – and desirable – only in “small groups”, in which “we can know each other intimately”. As social aggregates become larger, society weighs less heavily on the individual who finds himself naturally ‘emancipated’: social integration is no longer based on ‘status’ or function, but on a ‘contract’. The union and confusion of consciences, so “clumped that none can move independently from the others”, make way for the contractual rationalisation of conducts and for the division of labour, both being synonymous not of similarity, but of complementarity. [...] The tension between the sociological perspective on the difference between ‘society’ and ‘community’ favoured by Durkheim and the subjective perspective proposed by Weber is entirely relevant here. If, as Weber suggests, subjective postures are not determined by social forms, however, they are more or less adjusted to their morphology or geometry. To extend, through the category-based imagination, the topology of the circle specific to reciprocal links and mutual obligations onto the large floating society of anonymous transgresses the law of quantitative determination of a group. In doing so, it exposes itself to real errors of category, but also of geometry. (Kaufmann, 2023, pp. 72, 76)

This is where the social bond, of a community type, necessarily gives way to regulation and law. Not because of any arbitrary prevalence of the state, but simply because in a large society, one cannot have a communal experience with all its members: this type of experience must give way to category-based projections, on the model of the famous imagined communities (Benedict Anderson) that are nations. Certainly, the latter are still likely to descend into artificialism. Nonetheless, this is not a sufficient reason to reduce society's order, to that of the community: as Durkheim showed, modern societies evolve in their morphology and physiology far beyond the simple cultural genealogy staged by Asad, Brown, Butler and Mahmood (2013).

Therefore, it is by entering the sphere of political theory and of law as an impersonal third party, that the *genealogical* consequences of the postcolonial anthropology of Asad and Mahmood can be overcome. To do this, Cécile Laborde's proposal, consisting in disaggregating religion in relation to actual legal practices in different countries, seems fundamental. In order to assess the
legitimate place of ‘religion’ in the public arena, Laborde proposes not to treat the phenomenon as existing in itself, but to divide it analytically into three components: epistemic propositions, conceptions of the good life, and collective identities. On this level, she somewhat joins the anthropology of Asad and Mahmood, since she shares with these authors the objective of decentring political liberalism from a particular religion, precisely by means of this disaggregation, which is interesting in that it can be applied to much broader social phenomena than what we call ‘religion’.

Of course all liberals, including liberal-communitarians like Charles Taylor, want to approach religion from secular categories. Thus, the latter wants to see religion as a conviction, sometimes so strong that it requires reasonable accommodations (such as allowing the wearing of the kirpan, a sacred Sikh knife allowed in Canadian schools), just as a secular conviction could legitimately require accommodation (for example pacifism, which is incompatible with military service). Nonetheless, by taking into account the strength of beliefs, Taylor gives less consideration to ritual collective practices, for example.

Instead of the strength of beliefs, Laborde prefers to consider the way in which religion has emerged in a particular society. This way, one does not need to wonder whether it is important for Muslims to go to the mosque; it is enough to note that in European societies, the majority religion has taken a prominent place in the form of holidays dedicated to the practice of Mass (on Sundays); therefore, it is fair to take into account the ritual practice of going to the mosque on Fridays, although the (historically Christian) calendar is not calibrated for this. Accommodation in the workplace must also be taken into account: not so much because of a strength of beliefs (a field that political liberalism is not well equipped to judge), but because of a historical differential between majority and minority religions.

By not specifying a particular dimension of religion, but rather leaving three possibilities open (conceptions of the good life, epistemic propositions, collective identities), Laborde's republicanism does not depend on religious discourse: rather than posing a religion in itself, one studies its analytical dimensions. The genealogist pitfall of Asad and Mahmood is thus avoided and we have a road map to implement a significant political liberalism.

## 7.2 Liberalism and Public Arena

Let us clarify further what ‘liberalism’ means, because it must not be confused with market liberalism or neo-liberal regimes. Unlike neo-liberalism, which tends to impose its functioning on social spaces that should be preserved from it, liberalism is an “art of separation”, aiming to build “a world of walls”, each of them “creating a new freedom” (Walzer, 1984, p. 315).
legitimate place of ‘religion’ in the public arena, Laborde proposes not to treat the phenomenon as existing in itself, but to divide it analytically into three components: epistemic propositions, conceptions of the good life, and collective identities. On this level, she somewhat joins the anthropology of Asad and Mahmood, since she shares with these authors the objective of decentring political liberalism from a particular religion, precisely by means of this disaggregation, which is interesting in that it can be applied to much broader social phenomena than what we call ‘religion’.

Of course all liberals, including liberal-communitarians like Charles Taylor, want to approach religion from secular categories. Thus, the latter wants to see religion as a conviction, sometimes so strong that it requires reasonable accommodations (such as allowing the wearing of the kirpan, a sacred Sikh knife allowed in Canadian schools), just as a secular conviction could legitimately require accommodation (for example pacifism, which is incompatible with military service). Nonetheless, by taking into account the strength of beliefs, Taylor gives less consideration to ritual collective practices, for example.

Instead of the strength of beliefs, Laborde prefers to consider the way in which religion has emerged in a particular society. This way, one does not need to wonder whether it is important for Muslims to go to the mosque; it is enough to note that in European societies, the majority religion has taken a prominent place in the form of holidays dedicated to the practice of Mass (on Sundays); therefore, it is fair to take into account the ritual practice of going to the mosque on Fridays, although the (historically Christian) calendar is not calibrated for this. Accommodation in the workplace must also be taken into account: not so much because of a strength of beliefs (a field that political liberalism is not well equipped to judge), but because of a historical differential between majority and minority religions.

By not specifying a particular dimension of religion, but rather leaving three possibilities open (conceptions of the good life, epistemic propositions, collective identities), Laborde's republicanism does not depend on religious discourse: rather than posing a religion in itself, one studies its analytical dimensions. The genealogist pitfall of Asad and Mahmood is thus avoided and we have a road map to implement a significant political liberalism.

## 7.2 Liberalism and Public Arena

Let us clarify further what ‘liberalism’ means, because it must not be confused with market liberalism or neo-liberal regimes. Unlike neo-liberalism, which tends to impose its functioning on social spaces that should be preserved from it, liberalism is an “art of separation”, aiming to build “a world of walls”, each of them “creating a new freedom” (Walzer, 1984, p. 315).
Affinities with the idea of secularism, historically associated with the idea of separation, both in France and in the United States, are important: the point is to separate spheres (how, remains to be seen). Parliament, public schools and the courts are therefore part of the public arena, but it is still necessary to distinguish the actors within these institutions. Public school teachers in France are subject to stricter rules than pupils: they cannot express their (ir)religious opinions, whereas the pupils can. In the same place, rules relating to the public arena (teachers) can coexist with rules relating to the public space (students as users). The political history of each state further complicates the problem, making it difficult to generalise. Yet it remains possible to identify some transversal criteria of (non)permissibility of religion in the public sphere. According to Laborde's disaggregated approach, religion should have no place in the public sphere if:

- The *epistemic propositions* it conveys are inaccessible to public reason. For example, "the embryo contains a soul because it is written in the Bible, and prescriptions contained in this sacred book apply to all humans since it was written under the action of the Holy Spirit, co-creator of the world". This statement is unintelligible to anyone, even a practicing believer, who does not share the traditional dogmas of the religion concerned.

- The *conceptions of the good life* that it promotes are encompassing. For example, if it is legitimate to organise optional religious courses in public schools, the state should still have a right to set certain criteria, especially if it finances them, to ensure that their content is compatible with the pluralism of liberal societies. Consequently, textbooks can be checked for compliance with 'British values' in Britain, and guidelines can be given to religious teachers in the Czech Republic so they are compatible with democratic pluralism. Without this type of control, religion can become encompassing, as is the case in Poland where religion courses in public school consist, among other things, in teaching that homosexuality is a sin, even though this falls within the conceptions of the good life that each citizen is entitled to choose or refuse.

- The *collective identities* it transmits are divisive. For example, the Italian and Polish states force public schools to display crucifixes in classrooms, on the grounds that they embody, among other things, national identity. While non-Christian students may not be bothered by this practice, the fact is that this display publicly signals a hierarchy between two types of citizens, those who are Christian (valued by the state) and those who are not (Laborde, 2017).

If one of these three criteria is verified, then the liberal state is entitled to set limits to 'religion', without venturing into theological abysses since the
Affinities with the idea of secularism, historically associated with the idea of separation, both in France and in the United States, are important: the point is to separate spheres (how, remains to be seen). Parliament, public schools and the courts are therefore part of the public arena, but it is still necessary to distinguish the actors within these institutions. Public school teachers in France are subject to stricter rules than pupils: they cannot express their (ir)religious opinions, whereas the pupils can. In the same place, rules relating to the public arena (teachers) can coexist with rules relating to the public space (students as users). The political history of each state further complicates the problem, making it difficult to generalise. Yet it remains possible to identify some transversal criteria of (non)permissibility of religion in the public sphere. According to Laborde's disaggregated approach, religion should have no place in the public sphere if:

- The *epistemic propositions* it conveys are inaccessible to public reason. For example, "the embryo contains a soul because it is written in the Bible, and prescriptions contained in this sacred book apply to all humans since it was written under the action of the Holy Spirit, co-creator of the world". This statement is unintelligible to anyone, even a practicing believer, who does not share the traditional dogmas of the religion concerned.

- The *conceptions of the good life* that it promotes are encompassing. For example, if it is legitimate to organise optional religious courses in public schools, the state should still have a right to set certain criteria, especially if it finances them, to ensure that their content is compatible with the pluralism of liberal societies. Consequently, textbooks can be checked for compliance with 'British values' in Britain, and guidelines can be given to religious teachers in the Czech Republic so they are compatible with democratic pluralism. Without this type of control, religion can become encompassing, as is the case in Poland where religion courses in public school consist, among other things, in teaching that homosexuality is a sin, even though this falls within the conceptions of the good life that each citizen is entitled to choose or refuse.

- The *collective identities* it transmits are divisive. For example, the Italian and Polish states force public schools to display crucifixes in classrooms, on the grounds that they embody, among other things, national identity. While non-Christian students may not be bothered by this practice, the fact is that this display publicly signals a hierarchy between two types of citizens, those who are Christian (valued by the state) and those who are not (Laborde, 2017).

If one of these three criteria is verified, then the liberal state is entitled to set limits to 'religion', without venturing into theological abysses since the
phenomenon is disintegrated. Conversely, if a 'religion' affirms epistemic prop-
ositions accessible to public reason, if it promotes conceptions of the good
life that are non-encompassing and collective identities that do not generate
division, then this 'religion' may have a place in the public arena. It is therefore
understood as a culture, similar to a musical culture, and its study is mandatory,
subsidised by the state through school education, without anyone complain-
ing about the principle of it. Because valuing the music of Bach or Debussy,
necessarily to the detriment of other works, is not in itself an attack on the
impartiality of teaching, even though this choice is not neutral: the 'neutrality'
of the state is therefore not a decisive criterion.

This point holds a central place in contemporary discussions in political
theory, because devotees in all countries demand an increased state recogni-
tion of their religion, arguing that the state is not neutral when it subsidises
certain sports, monuments, museums, culinary heritage (etc.) to the detriment
of others. To answer that sort of argument, it must be broken down. Disaggre-
gation does not offer ready-made answers, but it does provide guidelines to
counter the genealogist objection described above, assimilating secularism to
'Judeo-Christianity', and more specifically to Protestantism.

7.3 *Disaggregating Secular Ideologies Too*

Nevertheless, the major interest of the disaggregating analysis is that it is not
limited to religions. Here Laborde engages a debate with Will Kymlicka. Are
religions, once diluted in culture, *ipso facto* less likely to challenge the prin-
ciples of political liberalism? Kymlicka moves in this direction, but Laborde's
position is nuanced. Western-European far-right movements often value a cul-
turalised Christianity, reduced to inheritance and tradition, expurgated from
any proper religious reference (God, mysteries, etc.), but no less divisive with
regard to immigrants, ethnic minorities or those who refuse to accept Christian
cultural identity. This means that one of the three criteria mentioned above, in
this case the last one, is not respected: it is not by bartering religion against
culture that Christianity can be considered part of public reason.

The same goes for Dutch homo-nationalism, not particularly religious but
that nonetheless stigmatises populations suspected of not being sufficiently
acculturated to Christian-liberal frames, supposedly more gay-friendly. The
example of a test of conformity to Dutch liberalism, between 2006 and 2008,
intended for people wanting to acquire citizenship, is revealing. Though candi-
dates from Canada, the United States or New Zealand did not need to pass it,
nationals from other extra-European countries did: they were made to watch
a video of same-sex people kissing in the street. The aim was to ensure that
potential first-time citizens accepted this behaviour. While the attempt to
phenomenon is disintegrated. Conversely, if a 'religion' affirms epistemic prop-
ositions accessible to public reason, if it promotes conceptions of the good
life that are non-encompassing and collective identities that do not generate
division, then this 'religion' may have a place in the public arena. It is therefore
understood as a culture, similar to a musical culture, and its study is mandatory,
subsidised by the state through school education, without anyone complain-
ing about the principle of it. Because valuing the music of Bach or Debussy,
necessarily to the detriment of other works, is not in itself an attack on the
impartiality of teaching, even though this choice is not neutral: the 'neutrality'
of the state is therefore not a decisive criterion.

This point holds a central place in contemporary discussions in political
theory, because devotees in all countries demand an increased state recogni-
tion of their religion, arguing that the state is not neutral when it subsidises
certain sports, monuments, museums, culinary heritage (etc.) to the detriment
of others. To answer that sort of argument, it must be broken down. Disaggre-
gation does not offer ready-made answers, but it does provide guidelines to
counter the genealogist objection described above, assimilating secularism to
'Judeo-Christianity', and more specifically to Protestantism.

7.3 *Disaggregating Secular Ideologies Too*

Nevertheless, the major interest of the disaggregating analysis is that it is not
limited to religions. Here Laborde engages a debate with Will Kymlicka. Are
religions, once diluted in culture, *ipso facto* less likely to challenge the prin-
ciples of political liberalism? Kymlicka moves in this direction, but Laborde's
position is nuanced. Western-European far-right movements often value a cul-
turalised Christianity, reduced to inheritance and tradition, expurgated from
any proper religious reference (God, mysteries, etc.), but no less divisive with
regard to immigrants, ethnic minorities or those who refuse to accept Christian
cultural identity. This means that one of the three criteria mentioned above, in
this case the last one, is not respected: it is not by bartering religion against
culture that Christianity can be considered part of public reason.

The same goes for Dutch homo-nationalism, not particularly religious but
that nonetheless stigmatises populations suspected of not being sufficiently
acculturated to Christian-liberal frames, supposedly more gay-friendly. The
example of a test of conformity to Dutch liberalism, between 2006 and 2008,
intended for people wanting to acquire citizenship, is revealing. Though candi-
dates from Canada, the United States or New Zealand did not need to pass it,
nationals from other extra-European countries did: they were made to watch
a video of same-sex people kissing in the street. The aim was to ensure that
potential first-time citizens accepted this behaviour. While the attempt to
enhance tolerance towards homosexuality is welcome, the fact remains that this should not be done through a public policy targeting specific populations. Indeed, native Dutch can also be homophobic, while remaining citizens (Laborde & Lægaard, 2020).

The method of disaggregation thus makes it possible to symmetrise religious and non-religious phenomena, all potentially vectors of the three aforementioned elements that political liberalism must qualify: epistemic propositions (non-accessible?), conceptions of the good life (comprehensive?), collective identities (divisive?). It is then possible to specify the dangers of homophobia (e.g. Netherlands), religious nationalism (e.g. Poland), or French secularism expressed in the Chatel circular of 2012, which aims to prohibit accompanying adults on school trips from ostensible wearing of religious signs.⁶

Crucifixes displayed in the classrooms of public schools pose the same challenge as certain secular policies, such as the test of conformity to Dutch liberalism and the Chatel circular: all three gestures, be they religious or not, are divisive. Indeed, they send a public message that some students, accompanying parents or potential citizens have a higher status than others. The challenge is therefore not whether 'religion' in itself is insufficiently or too present in the public arena, but to identify its components – epistemic propositions, conceptions of the good life, identities – whose legitimacy in this arena must be judged according to the same criteria as their secular counterparts. Ultimately, if classical republicans marked by liberal thought, such as Catherine Kintzler, defend themselves against claims that they promote state atheism, and fight conservative secularism, the fact is that their tools for reflection are insufficient in the light of the republican tradition instigated, from an international point of view, by Philip Pettit, then developed by Cécile Laborde for liberalism and what she considers its condition: minimal secularism.

As ETS researchers, our main objective is not to provide a theory of the permissibility in the public arena of religion, or secularism or any system of beliefs. It consists in identifying tools, between philosophy and social sciences, which avoid the reification of these beliefs. Thus, through an interdisciplinary approach, we assume a renewed republican perspective to explore the relationship between culture and politics.

## Notes

<footnote n="1">1 For France, by way of illustration, let us mention the typical figures of Raymond Boudon (liberal) or Pierre Bourdieu (Marxian).</footnote>

<footnote n="2">2 What is at stake when rereading Durkheim's work is to correct this aspect; besides Mauss had already discussed some of his uncle's rather systematic statements.</footnote>
enhance tolerance towards homosexuality is welcome, the fact remains that this should not be done through a public policy targeting specific populations. Indeed, native Dutch can also be homophobic, while remaining citizens (Laborde & Lægaard, 2020).

The method of disaggregation thus makes it possible to symmetrise religious and non-religious phenomena, all potentially vectors of the three aforementioned elements that political liberalism must qualify: epistemic propositions (non-accessible?), conceptions of the good life (comprehensive?), collective identities (divisive?). It is then possible to specify the dangers of homophobia (e.g. Netherlands), religious nationalism (e.g. Poland), or French secularism expressed in the Chatel circular of 2012, which aims to prohibit accompanying adults on school trips from ostensible wearing of religious signs.⁶

Crucifixes displayed in the classrooms of public schools pose the same challenge as certain secular policies, such as the test of conformity to Dutch liberalism and the Chatel circular: all three gestures, be they religious or not, are divisive. Indeed, they send a public message that some students, accompanying parents or potential citizens have a higher status than others. The challenge is therefore not whether 'religion' in itself is insufficiently or too present in the public arena, but to identify its components – epistemic propositions, conceptions of the good life, identities – whose legitimacy in this arena must be judged according to the same criteria as their secular counterparts. Ultimately, if classical republicans marked by liberal thought, such as Catherine Kintzler, defend themselves against claims that they promote state atheism, and fight conservative secularism, the fact is that their tools for reflection are insufficient in the light of the republican tradition instigated, from an international point of view, by Philip Pettit, then developed by Cécile Laborde for liberalism and what she considers its condition: minimal secularism.

As ETS researchers, our main objective is not to provide a theory of the permissibility in the public arena of religion, or secularism or any system of beliefs. It consists in identifying tools, between philosophy and social sciences, which avoid the reification of these beliefs. Thus, through an interdisciplinary approach, we assume a renewed republican perspective to explore the relationship between culture and politics.

## Notes

<footnote n="1">1 For France, by way of illustration, let us mention the typical figures of Raymond Boudon (liberal) or Pierre Bourdieu (Marxian).</footnote>

<footnote n="2">2 What is at stake when rereading Durkheim's work is to correct this aspect; besides Mauss had already discussed some of his uncle's rather systematic statements.</footnote>
3 The ‘non-imposition of values’ is another translation of the German *Wertfreiheit* (literally: freedom from values), often translated into English by axiological neutrality, which is not the same.

4 https://www.vie-publique.fr/discours/193524-entretien-de-m-laurent-fabius-ministre-des-affaires-etrangeres-et-du-d

5 The differences between Joppke and Laborde were initially significant: only the former approved the 2004 French law on ostensible religious signs in public schools. But these differences are reduced later and the irony is that Laborde, opposing the 2004 law, called herself a republican; while Joppke, favourable to this law, calls himself a liberal.

6 To be specific, the circular authorises its recipients, in this case head teachers and principals, to prohibit the wearing of these signs (Calvès, 2022, p. 21).
3 The ‘non-imposition of values’ is another translation of the German *Wertfreiheit* (literally: freedom from values), often translated into English by axiological neutrality, which is not the same.

4 https://www.vie-publique.fr/discours/193524-entretien-de-m-laurent-fabius-ministre-des-affaires-etrangeres-et-du-d

5 The differences between Joppke and Laborde were initially significant: only the former approved the 2004 French law on ostensible religious signs in public schools. But these differences are reduced later and the irony is that Laborde, opposing the 2004 law, called herself a republican; while Joppke, favourable to this law, calls himself a liberal.

6 To be specific, the circular authorises its recipients, in this case head teachers and principals, to prohibit the wearing of these signs (Calvès, 2022, p. 21).
# The Question of Citizenship in Social Sciences

This work's main objective of studying the relationship between culture and politics through an interdisciplinary approach of philosophy and sociology, but also ETS, is to consider citizenship education in an international perspective. This requires a clarifying of the following questions:

- How can a collective belief be distinguished from a personal belief? Is coordination between individuals sufficient to form a collective and can a collective be assimilated to an institution (Kaufmann, 2010)?

- What is the difference between a majority decision, that is a decision of aggregated individuals; and a collective decision, that is a decision made by a group itself, such as a nation for instance (Urfalino, 2021)?

- Under what conditions does the 'cult of the human person' emerge in modern societies (Dumont, 1992; Callegaro & Marcucci, 2018)?

These questions do not all directly concern citizenship; rather they form a prerequisite for considering a series of other questions, both sociological (what mechanisms are at work) and philosophical:

- How to identify a belief that one can adhere to freely?

- What is a collective decision that takes into account the representations, interests and deliberations of the people who contribute to it?

- What are the conditions of autonomy?

By proceeding in this manner, we do not claim to be exhaustive. The academic literature on the subject of citizenship education is vast, and the offer made here is not to analyse all the productions in a given "domain", or more precisely around a given expression (global citizenship), in order to establish a state of the art. It seems more realistic to proceed by elementary bricks, starting from a circumscribed point in order to go, gradually, towards the horizon to be embraced. This is how the detour through philosophy invites us not to lose sight of some crucial and founding questions of Human and social sciences. These will be specified via a neo-Durkheimian path, in reference to the French School of Sociology that worked on all the themes at stake: religions, beliefs, *sui generis* collective entities, nations, republic, state, individualism, pluralism, education, citizenship.
# The Question of Citizenship in Social Sciences

This work's main objective of studying the relationship between culture and politics through an interdisciplinary approach of philosophy and sociology, but also ETS, is to consider citizenship education in an international perspective. This requires a clarifying of the following questions:

- How can a collective belief be distinguished from a personal belief? Is coordination between individuals sufficient to form a collective and can a collective be assimilated to an institution (Kaufmann, 2010)?

- What is the difference between a majority decision, that is a decision of aggregated individuals; and a collective decision, that is a decision made by a group itself, such as a nation for instance (Urfalino, 2021)?

- Under what conditions does the 'cult of the human person' emerge in modern societies (Dumont, 1992; Callegaro & Marcucci, 2018)?

These questions do not all directly concern citizenship; rather they form a prerequisite for considering a series of other questions, both sociological (what mechanisms are at work) and philosophical:

- How to identify a belief that one can adhere to freely?

- What is a collective decision that takes into account the representations, interests and deliberations of the people who contribute to it?

- What are the conditions of autonomy?

By proceeding in this manner, we do not claim to be exhaustive. The academic literature on the subject of citizenship education is vast, and the offer made here is not to analyse all the productions in a given "domain", or more precisely around a given expression (global citizenship), in order to establish a state of the art. It seems more realistic to proceed by elementary bricks, starting from a circumscribed point in order to go, gradually, towards the horizon to be embraced. This is how the detour through philosophy invites us not to lose sight of some crucial and founding questions of Human and social sciences. These will be specified via a neo-Durkheimian path, in reference to the French School of Sociology that worked on all the themes at stake: religions, beliefs, *sui generis* collective entities, nations, republic, state, individualism, pluralism, education, citizenship.
After a detour through political philosophy, let us return to sociology and social philosophy, to consider bridges between them. Many studies in this field are driven by the desire to identify groups that think and act for themselves (Pettit, 2014), by going beyond the individualistic approach (Urfalino, 2022). Is it possible to capture entities such as ‘the nation’ or ‘the state’ by using these approaches, given the weight of these entities in shaping citizenship education, but also their ambiguous status when it comes to moving towards an education towards citizenship in an international or even global perspective?

# 1 Collective Entities

This all contributes to reflections that make it possible to grasp transversal phenomena. Among these, we will highlight *collective entities*, which can be nations, religions, or groups of teachers. All groups are not collective entities: some of them are groups of individuals gathered by their interests (groups of voters, pressure groups, social classes), others are series (people waiting at a bus stop), and others, in a Goffmanian perspective, oriented gatherings (at a party, around a meal).

The point of a reflection on collective entities is to investigate general will and citizenship. For to be a citizen is to participate in the decisions of a collective to which one belongs (nation, federation of nations, region, city) while recognising the legitimacy of the collective decisions that emanate from it. It is then necessary to overcome, no longer a sociological nominalism, but a disembodied political philosophy according to which a well thought procedure, based on minimal hypotheses about what unites the members, would be able to maintain a civic bond.

Advocates of deliberative democracy readily imagine deliberative situations where individuals have only their means of communication, a common language, for all fellow citizens. There is a form of political cosmopolitanism that cannot be taken for granted; it is difficult to imagine that the legitimacy of decisions does not relate, at least partially and in any way, to a given group or community (a club, a company, a Church, a university, a company, a city or a nation). For two reasons. Firstly, because decisions and collective decisions assume that their protagonists have much more in common, habits, practices, categories of thoughts. Secondly, because the same protagonists are supposed to pursue and re-elect the purposes of the collective entity on whose behalf they make this decision, regardless of that entity. The question which seems to me
After a detour through political philosophy, let us return to sociology and social philosophy, to consider bridges between them. Many studies in this field are driven by the desire to identify groups that think and act for themselves (Pettit, 2014), by going beyond the individualistic approach (Urfalino, 2022). Is it possible to capture entities such as ‘the nation’ or ‘the state’ by using these approaches, given the weight of these entities in shaping citizenship education, but also their ambiguous status when it comes to moving towards an education towards citizenship in an international or even global perspective?

# 1 Collective Entities

This all contributes to reflections that make it possible to grasp transversal phenomena. Among these, we will highlight *collective entities*, which can be nations, religions, or groups of teachers. All groups are not collective entities: some of them are groups of individuals gathered by their interests (groups of voters, pressure groups, social classes), others are series (people waiting at a bus stop), and others, in a Goffmanian perspective, oriented gatherings (at a party, around a meal).

The point of a reflection on collective entities is to investigate general will and citizenship. For to be a citizen is to participate in the decisions of a collective to which one belongs (nation, federation of nations, region, city) while recognising the legitimacy of the collective decisions that emanate from it. It is then necessary to overcome, no longer a sociological nominalism, but a disembodied political philosophy according to which a well thought procedure, based on minimal hypotheses about what unites the members, would be able to maintain a civic bond.

Advocates of deliberative democracy readily imagine deliberative situations where individuals have only their means of communication, a common language, for all fellow citizens. There is a form of political cosmopolitanism that cannot be taken for granted; it is difficult to imagine that the legitimacy of decisions does not relate, at least partially and in any way, to a given group or community (a club, a company, a Church, a university, a company, a city or a nation). For two reasons. Firstly, because decisions and collective decisions assume that their protagonists have much more in common, habits, practices, categories of thoughts. Secondly, because the same protagonists are supposed to pursue and re-elect the purposes of the collective entity on whose behalf they make this decision, regardless of that entity. The question which seems to me
to guide the study of the collective decision is that which Jean-Jacques Rousseau asked in *The Social Contract*: how can we draw, from the expression of plurality of wills, that is to say from each member of the group, a declaration of the general will? (Urfalino, 2021, pp. 19–20)

These are two sides of the same coin. To explain as a sociologist *how* a collective entity works requires reinvesting philosophical problems around the modalities of the social contract and the general will, that is, the will of this properly collective entity which is not that of its aggregated members (*sui generis*). Symmetrically, imagining, as a philosopher, fictions to model collectives' decisions and provide criteria for their *legitimacy* (is it the general will, the voice of the people, of its rulers, of an aggregate majority?) can only be done if one turns to the concrete entities that make collective decisions possible.

An example can help capture the problem. Let us imagine a book club that has to decide which pizza will be eaten at the end of the next meeting dedicated to Proust. The group deliberates and the decision is made by a vote: to buy (and eat together) a chorizo pizza. Is this a collective decision? It seems so, because the members have decided something together and this decision obliges them. Yet appearances are misleading: it was, in fact, a matter of sharing individual preferences fairly. To better make this point, let us now imagine a club of gourmets who must decide what is the pizza of the month. The group deliberates and the decision is taken by a vote: the most deserving pizza, which will be promoted in order to preserve the nobility of this dish, is anchovy pizza. This is a collective decision because it is not made for individual members of the collective, but on behalf of the collective whose purpose it is to promote pizza. The fact that this collective is composed of individuals specialised in pizza is important, but not enough: indeed they could have, like the members of the book club, shared a pizza because they were hungry or wanted to share a moment of conviviality; but that is not the case here.

The collective decision is therefore ultimately the decision of the collective as such. That is why a decision of Parliament is generally a collective decision. While members may have an individual interest in making such a decision, they propose laws that often do not affect them alone or even affect them as individuals, just as the ‘pizza of the month’ choice might have a possible, but indirect, influence on the culinary habits of club members and their decisions regarding fair sharing. One of the reasons the question of collective entities is concealed in social sciences comes from the misleading equivalence established between different phenomena: fair sharing, collective decision, majority vote, collective decision as such, or of its members taken one by one.
to guide the study of the collective decision is that which Jean-Jacques Rousseau asked in *The Social Contract*: how can we draw, from the expression of plurality of wills, that is to say from each member of the group, a declaration of the general will? (Urfalino, 2021, pp. 19–20)

These are two sides of the same coin. To explain as a sociologist *how* a collective entity works requires reinvesting philosophical problems around the modalities of the social contract and the general will, that is, the will of this properly collective entity which is not that of its aggregated members (*sui generis*). Symmetrically, imagining, as a philosopher, fictions to model collectives' decisions and provide criteria for their *legitimacy* (is it the general will, the voice of the people, of its rulers, of an aggregate majority?) can only be done if one turns to the concrete entities that make collective decisions possible.

An example can help capture the problem. Let us imagine a book club that has to decide which pizza will be eaten at the end of the next meeting dedicated to Proust. The group deliberates and the decision is made by a vote: to buy (and eat together) a chorizo pizza. Is this a collective decision? It seems so, because the members have decided something together and this decision obliges them. Yet appearances are misleading: it was, in fact, a matter of sharing individual preferences fairly. To better make this point, let us now imagine a club of gourmets who must decide what is the pizza of the month. The group deliberates and the decision is taken by a vote: the most deserving pizza, which will be promoted in order to preserve the nobility of this dish, is anchovy pizza. This is a collective decision because it is not made for individual members of the collective, but on behalf of the collective whose purpose it is to promote pizza. The fact that this collective is composed of individuals specialised in pizza is important, but not enough: indeed they could have, like the members of the book club, shared a pizza because they were hungry or wanted to share a moment of conviviality; but that is not the case here.

The collective decision is therefore ultimately the decision of the collective as such. That is why a decision of Parliament is generally a collective decision. While members may have an individual interest in making such a decision, they propose laws that often do not affect them alone or even affect them as individuals, just as the ‘pizza of the month’ choice might have a possible, but indirect, influence on the culinary habits of club members and their decisions regarding fair sharing. One of the reasons the question of collective entities is concealed in social sciences comes from the misleading equivalence established between different phenomena: fair sharing, collective decision, majority vote, collective decision as such, or of its members taken one by one.
2

## Plural Subjects and Feeling of Obligation

Similarly, being a citizen means participating in the purposes of a collective entity that makes collective decisions every member is required to endorse as a citizen. The collective decision therefore contains a rather mysterious element that demands clarification: it *obliges* the members of the group that contributed to the decision, as well as the members of the broader entity on whose behalf the group expresses itself. This is a central theme in works aiming to renew holism, one situated in the wake of Durkheim, who had already pointed out that the characteristic of what is 'social' is to oblige individuals.

To move from a reflection on groups to a study on citizenship, we will proceed in stages from theories of collective intentionality to then point out their limits, including their individualistic bias. This will allow us to identify this potential bias in global citizenship considerations that tend to evade or simply ignore certain collective entities, usually seen as being the framework of citizenship. It is not that 'the world' replaces 'the nation' or 'society'. If that were the case, it would be too simple; and, for good reason, almost no global citizenship theorist is so naive. Yet, these collective entities are often thought of on the model of 'the world', that is to say as a collection of individuals; calling it a 'global society' or a 'global community' does not change that.

Let us start with collective intentionality: it is the ability for individuals to have intentions that can only be properly described in the first person plural. The philosopher Margaret Gilbert has explained this point in what is a now classic way in social philosophy and general sociology, but also in language sciences, sociology of social interaction, economics and psychology. Gilbert takes the paradigmatic example of two people walking together (as opposed to two people walking in the same direction). Maybe they had made an appointment, maybe they have freely started a conversation about the weather, maybe they do not know each other at all and one of them just asked for directions. Whatever the objective of this joint movement, the degree of acquaintanceship of the persons and the degree of explicitness of the possible shared objective, it remains that each person cannot press or slow the pace without warning the other person or without apologising, and the latter may be reciprocally justified in raising accusations. For example, Anna and Joseph are walking together and Joseph "suddenly stops walking and sits on a bench. Anna faults him for that and Joseph understands that Anna is in a position to fault him because of their joint intention" (Gilbert, 2003, p. 34).

The illustrative examples are numerous: walking, dancing, judgments on the quality of canteen meals, the collective feeling of being guilty even if one is not individually responsible (about Nazi Germany) or even political obligation in general (but we said in the introduction that Gilbert's attempt fails in this
2 Plural Subjects and Feeling of Obligation

Similarly, being a citizen means participating in the purposes of a collective entity that makes collective decisions every member is required to endorse as a citizen. The collective decision therefore contains a rather mysterious element that demands clarification: it *obliges* the members of the group that contributed to the decision, as well as the members of the broader entity on whose behalf the group expresses itself. This is a central theme in works aiming to renew holism, one situated in the wake of Durkheim, who had already pointed out that the characteristic of what is ‘social’ is to oblige individuals.

To move from a reflection on groups to a study on citizenship, we will proceed in stages from theories of collective intentionality to then point out their limits, including their individualistic bias. This will allow us to identify this potential bias in global citizenship considerations that tend to evade or simply ignore certain collective entities, usually seen as being the framework of citizenship. It is not that ‘the world’ replaces ‘the nation’ or ‘society’. If that were the case, it would be too simple; and, for good reason, almost no global citizenship theorist is so naive. Yet, these collective entities are often thought of on the model of ‘the world’, that is to say as a collection of individuals; calling it a ‘global society’ or a ‘global community’ does not change that.

Let us start with collective intentionality: it is the ability for individuals to have intentions that can only be properly described in the first person plural. The philosopher Margaret Gilbert has explained this point in what is a now classic way in social philosophy and general sociology, but also in language sciences, sociology of social interaction, economics and psychology. Gilbert takes the paradigmatic example of two people walking together (as opposed to two people walking in the same direction). Maybe they had made an appointment, maybe they have freely started a conversation about the weather, maybe they do not know each other at all and one of them just asked for directions. Whatever the objective of this joint movement, the degree of acquaintanceship of the persons and the degree of explicitness of the possible shared objective, it remains that each person cannot press or slow the pace without warning the other person or without apologising, and the latter may be reciprocally justified in raising accusations. For example, Anna and Joseph are walking together and Joseph “suddenly stops walking and sits on a bench. Anna faults him for that and Joseph understands that Anna is in a position to fault him because of their joint intention” (Gilbert, 2003, p. 34).

The illustrative examples are numerous: walking, dancing, judgments on the quality of canteen meals, the collective feeling of being guilty even if one is not individually responsible (about Nazi Germany) or even political obligation in general (but we said in the introduction that Gilbert’s attempt fails in this
last point). Moreover, the model offers some flexibility with regard to the fields
of investigation: far from postulating the existence of groups, Gilbert rather
describes a process and specifies that ‘plural subjects’ can be tendentious, that
is, individuals can act as if they exist, thus making them happen or on the con-
trary failing to do so.

For example, Jill might be offended by Jack's question, "Why don't we go for a walk?", although she would not mind [...] "would you like to go for a ride?" and similar formulas. One explanation for this sensitivity lies in the fact that "we" was spontaneously interpreted as implying the existence of a plural subject [...] whereas, according to the interlocutor, there is no plural subject. (Gilbert, 1999, p. 243)

The model thus makes it possible to examine the existence of asymmetrical
power relations, when one of the parties can more easily revoke the (suppos-
edly) joint commitment than the other, or, on the contrary, publicly state that
a joint undertaking had been entered into, though the other party says not
(Bouvier, 2004). The approach is thus a way of reformulating, in a precise yet
refined way, the more intuitive analyses of Durkheim, Weber and Simmel. This
is how Gilbert comments on the famous Weberian example of the two cyclists
avoiding each other; but while Weber judges that the attempt to avoid the
other is a social action, Gilbert insists on the difference between being related
to the behaviour of others, and a joint commitment. However, only the latter
is social in the strict sense. This rejoins the Durkheimian intuition: 'walking
together' implies Us having intentions that are not a sum of personal inten-
tions; they are *sui generis*.¹

Gilbert's approach is analytical. That being said, as we saw in the introduc-
tion, Gilbert enters de facto into the meanders of politics, on which Human
and social sciences depend because they rely on the ideal of modernity which
constituted them and still animates them. It is therefore necessary to distin-
guish two levels, descriptive and political.

1. On the descriptive level, the Gilbertian model, although ‘holistic’, remains too attached to the contractualist fiction of assembling wills: indeed, many collectives “cannot be the product of associative and con- tractual activities; not only do they precede the latter, but they are the ones who make them possible by assuring them from the outset a ‘com- monality’ of principle” (Kaufmann, 2010, p. 344). In other words, if the association of walkers makes it possible to understand the difference between a sum of wills and a *sui generis* assembly of wills, it leaves in the shadow all pre-contractual practices, such as the constitutive rules of a social activity. Thus, to play chess, it is necessary to have rules prior to the
last point). Moreover, the model offers some flexibility with regard to the fields
of investigation: far from postulating the existence of groups, Gilbert rather
describes a process and specifies that ‘plural subjects’ can be tendentious, that
is, individuals can act as if they exist, thus making them happen or on the con-
trary failing to do so.

For example, Jill might be offended by Jack's question, "Why don't we go for a walk?", although she would not mind [...] "would you like to go for a ride?" and similar formulas. One explanation for this sensitivity lies in the fact that "we" was spontaneously interpreted as implying the existence of a plural subject [...] whereas, according to the interlocutor, there is no plural subject. (Gilbert, 1999, p. 243)

The model thus makes it possible to examine the existence of asymmetrical
power relations, when one of the parties can more easily revoke the (suppos-
edly) joint commitment than the other, or, on the contrary, publicly state that
a joint undertaking had been entered into, though the other party says not
(Bouvier, 2004). The approach is thus a way of reformulating, in a precise yet
refined way, the more intuitive analyses of Durkheim, Weber and Simmel. This
is how Gilbert comments on the famous Weberian example of the two cyclists
avoiding each other; but while Weber judges that the attempt to avoid the
other is a social action, Gilbert insists on the difference between being related
to the behaviour of others, and a joint commitment. However, only the latter
is social in the strict sense. This rejoins the Durkheimian intuition: 'walking
together' implies Us having intentions that are not a sum of personal inten-
tions; they are *sui generis*.¹

Gilbert's approach is analytical. That being said, as we saw in the introduc-
tion, Gilbert enters de facto into the meanders of politics, on which Human
and social sciences depend because they rely on the ideal of modernity which
constituted them and still animates them. It is therefore necessary to distin-
guish two levels, descriptive and political.

1. On the descriptive level, the Gilbertian model, although ‘holistic’, remains too attached to the contractualist fiction of assembling wills: indeed, many collectives “cannot be the product of associative and con- tractual activities; not only do they precede the latter, but they are the ones who make them possible by assuring them from the outset a ‘com- monality’ of principle” (Kaufmann, 2010, p. 344). In other words, if the association of walkers makes it possible to understand the difference between a sum of wills and a *sui generis* assembly of wills, it leaves in the shadow all pre-contractual practices, such as the constitutive rules of a social activity. Thus, to play chess, it is necessary to have rules prior to the