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The Brown University Journal of Philosophy, Politics, and Economics (JPPE) is a peer reviewed academic journal for undergraduate and graduate students that is sponsored by the Political Theory Project and the Philosophy, Politics, and Economics Society Program at Brown University. The Brown University Journal of Philosophy, Politics & Economics *FEATURES * FROM GREG FISCHER Mayor of Louisville, KY Jorge O. Elorza Mayor of Providence, RI Economics Cannabis By Kaid Ray-Tipton Latent Effects of Cannabis Legalization: Racial Disproportionality and Disparity in Washington State Drug Convictions, 2000-2015 Click to flip through the journal Philosophy A More Perfect Union Economics Energy By Benjamin Seymour Inclusive Norms and the Future of Liberal Unity By Jingpeng Shao Embracing Renewable Energy for Sustainable Job Growth in West Virginia economics Politics A.S.E.A.N Philosophy Transcendental Self By Hisyam Takiudin The Long Game: ASEAN, China's Charm Offensive and the South China Sea Dispute By Jennifer Kim Reconceptualizing the Idea of the Self Within Western Philosophy: The Existence-Reason Binary and the Nonrational Transcendental Self Politics Racial Capitalism Politics American Jews By Olerato Mogomotsi Racial Capitalism in Post-Apartheid South Africa: Challenging the Fallacy of Black Entitlement under Service Delivery Protests. By Jake Goodman The Political Behavior of American Jews A Public Choice Approach to Israel-influenced Voting

Editorial board Foreword Volume I Issue II Introducing the second issue of JPPE Technological disruption has been a fact of the post-industrial world, producing the growth in productivity and efficiency that led to nearly unfathomable increases in opulence, standards of living, and wealth. It may, as a consequence, seem perplexing why so many of today’s leaders seem concerned about something so seemingly vastly beneficial as technological innovation. And yet, few economic shifts produce more anxiety than those involving the introduction of labor saving technology into the economy. This was true in the 19th century Britain, when the Luddites stood in such abject fear of the permanent redundancy of their labor that they took to murdering machine innovators and destroying designs. It was also true in the early 20th century, as agricultural innovations and new industrial designs dramatically reshaped the US economy. And it’s true again today, as artificial intelligence and digital technology make a wide array of occupations largely or entirely automatable. This has potentially profound implications for the world. As globalization, outsourcing, and the presence of winner- take all markets exacerbate income inequality in many countries, labor automation stands to make possibly significant numbers of jobs redundant, increasing returns to capital, and hastening the growth in inequality as productivity increases faster than wages. It’s the presence of these alarming trends that has driven us to dedicate the second issue of the Journal of Philosophy, Politics, and Economics to the topic of technology and, specifically, technological disruption. We have done this by facilitating submissions from Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon and Brookings Institution President John Allen, both of whom have emerged as contemporary leaders on the front line to develop a politics that confronts some of the more perverse effects of technological innovation. As questions surrounding the effects of labor automation continue to garner more attention, the most popular solutions tend to take on at least one of two forms: education or social security. Ms. Sturgeon and Mr. Allen’s suggestions are therefore an apt encapsulation of the nature of the debate about how best to address technological displacement; the former discusses social security and the latter, education. Mr. Allen argues for a revaluation of modern education and training programs for workers and youths. He proposes that America’s continued dominance requires a strong investment in education programs that emphasize, for example, artificial intelligence, big data analytics, and super-computing. Meanwhile Ms. Sturgeon provides a strong case for considering a universal basic income as a possible approach to curtail the effects of labor automation on inequality. She highlights Scotland’s experiments with such a proposal and underscores the need for bold leadership to develop a new approach to social security befitting of a modern and more technological advanced era. Although this semester’s issue of JPPE is centered on the question of technological disruption, it also features essays from undergraduates on a wide range of topics. One piece discusses the relationship between private companies and US cybersecurity policy. Another considers whether secession is a viable solution to the Georgian-South Ossetian conflict. And, in Moral Manipulation, a student considers the ethics of corporate advertising campaigns through a Kantian paradigm. The Brown University Journal of Philosophy, Politics, and Economics is deeply proud of both the feature articles and student essays published in this issue. As students— from Providence to Beijing— begin to grapple with a rapidly changing economy and socio-political climate, the number of novel challenges the rising generation faces is great. And in the Journal you are now reading, students and world leaders around the world provide a great number of equally novel solutions.

We the Prisoners Considering the Anti Drug Act of 1986, the War on Drugs and Mass Incarceration in the United States Sophia Scaglioni Boston University April 2021 Introduction America was founded upon the notions of equality of opportunity, success through perseverance, and the idea that anyone, if they are hard-working and driven, can ascend socially and economically. Currently, however, the United States finds itself diametrically opposed to these ideas. The prison system in the United States contradicts rights guaranteed in the Constitution along with the promise of social mobility and the American Dream. “Mass incarceration” is a phrase frequently thrown about the political arena. These two words, however, represent 2.3 million American citizens who are in jail or prison today. To contextualize the gravity of this statistic, consider this: while the US has about 5% of the world’s population, it has about 25% of the world’s prison population. The majority of the victims of mass incarceration are Black and Latino men, who, despite having been promised equal protection under the law and a right to life and liberty, find themselves trapped in a system marked by racial disparity. One out of every three black boys and one out of every six Latino boys born today will go to prison at some point in their life while white boys born today have a 1/17 chance to go to prison in their lives. Despite being subjected, on average, to lower living standards in terms of housing and schooling, minority men are held to higher standards in the criminal justice system. While African Americans and whites report using drugs at similar rates, there are six times more Black men serving time for drug possession charges. The United States, a country founded on the notion of opportunity, get to these gruesomely imbalanced statistics through a series of public policy decisions. The minorities who make up these statistics have been disproportionately targeted by one of the Reagan administration’s keystone programs: the War on Drugs. While the policy battle against drugs was certainly started during the Nixon years and Nixon’s policies certainly influenced the oppression of minorities, the most detrimental and consequential laws of the War on Drugs were enacted during the years of the next administration. The Reagan White House, which controlled the executive branch during the 1980s, pushed policies that attacked drug possession and use with stringent criminal punishment. The administration was able to do this by stimulating public support for the War on Drugs; this mobilized Congress to act. The public angst the White House strived to create was based on largely ungrounded facts meant to instill fear in the general public. Impacts of policies implemented through this formula of fear mongering are felt today in the form of racial disparities in the American Criminal Justice System and the institution of mass incarceration. The Anti-Drug Act of 1986 imposed mandatory minimum sentences on the possession and distribution of certain drugs, allocated $2 billion to the crusade against drugs, involved the military in narcotic control, allowed for the death penalty for certain-drug related crimes and bolstered the authority of law enforcement. This policy was only strengthened in the coming years, and parts of this legislation remain in place today. Going to prison in America as a minority male, even when the crime is minor, constitutes a figurative life sentence due to the punitive nature of the Criminal Justice system, which taints a permanent record, complicates employment, ruptures family units and removes voting clout for prisoners. One of the most detrimental legacies of the War on Drugs, however, is the ostracization of former prisoners by American society. The institution of mass-incarceration is the outcome of policies like The Anti-Drug Act of 1986; this paper will analyze how this policy was born, implemented and how its hateful roots permeate the American society today. The legacy of The War on Drugs today is seen in the racial-biases in every step of the American criminal justice system: from investigation to sentencing to serving time. The shameful condition of American Criminal Justice doesn’t need to exist. Hundreds of thousands of people do not need to be imprisoned for minor charges, namely drug possession. In fact, this essay will argue, the American conscience cannot be clear so long as the institution of mass incarceration and its suffocating consequences are allowed to continue. The pillars and promises of our democracy must be restored and the way to do this is found in Portugal. Portugal’s drug legislation took a completely opposite perspective than the United States’ did when faced with a similar drug crisis; this essay will try to answer why that is the case. On July 1st, 2001 the country chose to “decriminalize the use and possession of all illicit drugs” and has since successfully reduced “problematic use, drug-related harms, and criminal justice overcrowding.” The values promulgated by this public policy emphasize recovery, safety and above all else, human dignity. By passing similar legislation, America would ameliorate the shameful condition of our discriminatory prison system and thus hold true to the roots and morals it was founded upon and has now seemingly forgotten. The United States’ current social, economic, and political climate makes the passing of such legislation unlikely. The institutional and cultural factors which influenced the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 (and their contribution to mass incarceration in the United States), compared to the same institutional or cultural factor when applied to Portugal, makes American unwillingness to rectify its broken criminal justice system evident. Ultimately, this reflects a very deep inconsistency between the notions American was founded upon and the values its government actually promulgates. The vantage points through which this essay will consider the opposite policy reactions of the United States and Portugal to drug use and possession are (1) Party Systems, (2) Welfare States, and (3) the role of religion in politics in America and Portugal. This essay will compare America and Portugal within the scope of three lenses: party systems, welfare systems and religious foundations. The vantage points will reveal Portugal’s proportional representation system is more responsive than the American two-party system; its universal health-care system has stronger infrastructure with which to implement a widespread drug policy; the common Catholic faith brings communities together and unifies public opinion. These factors combine clearly when considering the policy decision Portugal implemented in June 2001. A morally-unified public saw a clear issue in the rise of heroin use and asked their coalition-style government for a solution. Legislators turned to and trusted technical expertise to find a creative solution: decriminalization of drug possession and use. The country’s National Health Service was readily prepared and built on pre-existing welfare infrastructure, to implement the policy’s prevention and recovery programs. Once implemented, the public supported it fully. Now, drugs have ceased to be a controversial issue in Portugal and any mention of returning to a War on Drugs style approach is shot down. Party Systems Literature Review Two common forms of party system structures are a proportional representation system and a two-party system. The names are rather self-explanatory: a proportional representation system awards political parties seats in a country’s representative body in proportion to how many votes they receive, while a two-party system has two dominant groups in a representative body. Historically, proportional representation systems are superior to the two-party system when it comes to creating credible commitments because, since more than two ideologies are represented in the legislature, creating a majority coalition requires compromise. The negotiation and communication this requires fosters trust and understanding that bypasses the pettiness often seen in two-party systems. A multiparty system suggests that the negotiation and deal-making involved in the country’s policy decisions are collaborative, balanced, and focused on long-term gains. Conversely, in a winner-take-all two-party system, a lack of openness and communication is expected, and policy is likely to be directed towards short-term gains. The United States’ government fits the mold of a winner-take-all two-party system; the polarizing, negotiation-adverse effects of the system are felt in the Anti-Drug Act of 1986. To understand the negotiation-adverse climate which the 100th Congress faced, circumstances of the political climate must be considered. Firstly, the House and Senate were divided: the House was controlled by Democrats and the Senate by Republicans. Divided government is a common feature of two-party systems which can obstruct meaningful cooperation. According to scholars, when two conflicting ideologies must cooperate it is much harder to reach win-win outcomes than if the negotiators held similar views. The state of the American Congress in 1986 was characterized by divided and increasingly competitive split party control. This made the starting point for negotiation on drug-policy already compromised. Further research on negotiation tells us that the entirety of the policy-making process is hampered by the two-party system, not just its starting point. Studies modeling two-party negotiations found that time pressures and power-projections are crucial in negotiation outcomes—especially when parties are already ideologically opposed. More time and a lack of feeling the need to establish dominance leads to more effective discussions due to a lessened sense of pressure. These factors impacted the internal negotiation climate of the American Congress in 1986. There was an intense pressure from both the executive branch and the public on the already-divided Congress for pivotal drug legislation. These two pressures largely worked hand in hand. Recall the formula of fear mongering used by the Reagan administration mentioned earlier, best exemplified by the executive decision to hire staff specifically to publicize the use of crack cocaine in inner-cities. This spurred intense media coverage, creating pressure from an anxious public for Congressional action. This combines with the final, most crucial circumstance impacting the 100th Congress and the Anti-Drug Act of 1986: 1986 was a midterm election year. Therefore, when the divided, two-party Congress sat down in September to discuss drug policy, they were influenced by both time-pressure from November midterms and power-pressure from the desire to project efficacy and strength to voters right before elections. A lack of meaningful discussion aimed at a long-term solution ensued. Both Republicans in the Senate and Democrats in the House tried to create the most severe laws to acquiesce public nervousness, prioritizing power-projections over a constructive drug policy. Both Republicans and Democrats were blinded by hopes of re-election and failed to act in a long-term-oriented, collaborative manner. This directly stems from a divided two-party system, which creates a hostile and negotiation-adverse starting point only worsened in 1986 by time and power pressures. Welfare State Literature Review The design of a country’s social protection system is a fundamental factor to consider when assessing a drug policy such as the Anti-Drug Act of 1986. A country’s welfare state has a variety of characteristics to be considered. For example: whether a country implements universal coverage healthcare or chooses to implement a means-tested coverage system or whether healthcare is funded through public taxes, payroll contributions or private funding. The Anti-Drug Act of 1986 is nearly 200 pages long and has 21 sections devoted to anti-drug policy measures. Of these sections, several appropriate resources to criminal law enforcement and outline explicit punishments for the use and possession of drugs. The words “penalty” and “enforcement” are included in almost every section title. What words are missing, however, are terms such as “health”, “prevention” and “recovery”. If dangerous drugs were really sweeping the nation in ways so horrendous the Reagan administration claimed merited a crusade as aggressive as the War on Drugs, then where is the mention of recovery and prevention techniques? There is no mention of implementing healthcare programs to assist those suffering from drug abuse in the list of the 21 sections devoted to anti-drug policy measures. None of these sections emphasize the importance of recovery treatment. To find mentions of such programs, one must delve deep into the document, past authorization for the death penalty for certain drug offenses or the use of illegally obtained evidence in drug trials. Only in the most obscured corners of this legislation is minimal policy for prevention found. It calls for a board to come together thrice annually to assess how drug abuse prevention measures are doing at a national and state level, as well as for an increase in drug education programs in public schools. Although the amount of spending allocated for this is unclear, while the $2 billion allocated to increasing policing is concrete. Prevention and recovery are not emphasized in the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 and this may be partly due to the American welfare state which is characterized by high private social spending supported by government tax subsidies for the upper and upper-middle classes. Also, there are hardly any large public social programs that benefit all United States citizens nationally. Instead, America uses means-tested social assistance programs for poor people and social insurance programs (Social Security) for the middle-class, while the richest members of society rely on private healthcare programs. This divided structure existed when the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 was implemented, the same time as America was suffering from an alleged crack-cocaine crisis. Whether or not this is actually true has been heavily disputed: research suggests the crack-epidemic that conservative figureheads preached about was nonexistent, that drug use in urban neighborhoods was actually declining. Regardless of how real the crack-crisis actually was, the intention of the American government was clearly not to aid its alleged victims in recovery, but rather target urban populations. There was little to no mention of a national health strategy to combat the alleged issue. Perhaps (and very concerning morally) this is because those promoting the policy knew the crack-cocaine crisis was fabricated. However, it is possible that the reason the focus was not on treatment but increased criminal sentencing was due to the divided and privatized healthcare system which provided no clear roadmap or infrastructure for a national drug strategy to combat the (supposed) drug epidemic. Role of Religion Literature Review While surprisingly little research has been done on how religion factored into the War on Drugs, it can be said with confidence that religion acts as a polarizing force in American politics when certain religious groups align themselves with political ideologies. That holds true when considering American drug policy during the 1980s: President Reagan was supported fervently by conservative religious groups of evangelical Christians trying to return America to “traditional values”. This alliance between conservative Christians and the Republican party became known as the Moral Majority, a political group which mobilized Christian voters who felt as though they had been overlooked by their government during the years of the 1960s and 1970s; the War on Drugs was popular among these voters and they became one of Ronald Reagan’s most dependable coalitions. The years that the Moral Majority claimed the government ignored their voices overlap, of course, were the years of the Civil Rights Movement. Many members of the Christian Right overlap with another constituency of Reagan’s: whites who resented civil rights progress such as affirmative action. Research found that racial attitudes were a key determinant of white support to “get tough on crime” and the people most likely to support criminal-punitiveness were rural, conservative whites. The people that constitute this demographic also comprise those most dedicated to the Moral Majority: evangelical Christians. It was none other than this religious coalition which, feeling threatened and overlooked by years of Civil Rights progress, saw the War on Drugs as an opportunity to halt racial reform without seeming explicitly racist. There was notable support from the Christian Right for the Anti-Drug Act of 1986. Party Systems Case Study The United States’ Party System is a winner-take-all two-party system. In stark contrast, Portugal’s government is a multiparty, proportional representation system. Recall that multiparty systems suggest collaborative, balanced, and long-term-oriented negotiation, while a winner-take-all two-party system is likely to lack openness, communication and long-term foresight. These expectations are completely met when comparing the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 and the 2001 Portuguese decriminalization policy. While the United States met its (alleged) drug crisis with a criminal offensive campaign, Portugal reacted to its similar drug crisis with a strategy that vowed to reintegrate drug-users into society; a strategy based on recovery, not revenge. Analyzing party systems shows why the countries moved in such different directions. The heroin crisis that struck Portugal from 1980-2000 saw the highest rate of HIV infection in the entire European Union plaguing the relatively small country. During the two decades prior to the decriminalization policy, the Portuguese government responded to the epidemic by implementing harsh policies administered by the criminal justice system. Conservative politicians who boisterously condemned drug use supported this approach despite its failure to produce results. The heroin crisis was escalating quickly and the coalition government (The Council of Ministers, Portugal’s Parliament) saw the need for innovative policy—and the need to act fast. Proportional-representation governments are known to use deliberative negotiation tactics (like relying on third-party expertise) to form creative credible commitments. In keeping with this standard, Portugal relied heavily on technical expertise in creating their decriminalization policy. A panel of experts (called The Commission for a National Drug Strategy) was assembled to analyze the efficacy of the American-inspired, criminally punitive approach Portugal was using to combat its heroin crisis. The panel stated the War-on Drugs-style approach was “squandering resources” and advised for a revolutionary new tactic. They suggested converting drug use and possession to an administrative offense, rather than a criminal one. The goal was to regard drug users as full members of society rather than outcasts and criminals. The Council of Ministers accepted almost the entirety of the expert report in October 2000 and has since seen a reduced burden on its criminal justice system, increased uptake of drug treatment, fewer deaths and diseases related to opioids and a reduction in retail prices of drugs. While the United States suffered a crack-cocaine crisis (or so the Reagan administration wanted Americans to believe) in the 1980s which directly paralleled Portugal's heroin crisis, there was little to no use of strategies like reliance on technical expertise to find a solution in Congress. Rather, the hyper-competitive, negotiation-adverse two-party system of the United States Congress went straight for power-projecting, shortsighted policies like the Anti-Drug Act of 1986, which drastically increased drug arrests, thus ostracizing thousands of Americans into the punitive criminal justice system. The harsh system created by the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 manifests itself today in the mass-incarceration of ethnic minorities. The permanence of this system is the divisive nature of our two-party system which did not end with the Reagan years. Up until very recently, no actor in the American federal sentencing system, including Congress, the President or the Attorney General, tried to propose innovative legislation to create a real shift in how the United States’ criminal justice system responds to drug use and possession. In fact, even the most significant policy developments have continued to rely upon the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 for federal sentencing structure. The lack of forward-thinking, creative policy in American drug strategy is caused by the divided two-party system which is just as unwilling to unite in the name of long-term collective gains today as it was in the 1980s. When Portugal noticed it had a heroin epidemic, its coalition-style government sought effective action to better its citizen’s health. Simultaneously, Ronald Reagan sought harsh retribution against drug users by targeting black men as criminal offenders over the possession of minor quantities of drugs. Policies from the War on Drugs, like the Anti-Drug Act of 1986, have deprived thousands of people of voting rights and has forced them to live in what some scholars have called an “under-caste” of society”. The United States’ two-party system facilitates the implementation and permanence of policies targeting ethnic minorities for the possession and use of drugs. Welfare State Case Study If the welfare state of a country matters in how drug policy is implemented, a difference is expected between the drug policy of a country with free, universal healthcare and the drug policy of a country with a system like that of the United States (few national programs for all citizens and a division along class lines of where one’s social safety net comes from). Portugal exemplifies the former of these two options: the country’s National Health Service provides free, universal coverage, protecting all citizens regardless of private wealth. For this reason, when the expert panel assessing the drug crisis proposed making drug use a health, rather than a criminal, concern, the Portuguese Council of Ministers was willing to listen. The 2001 decriminalization policy stresses a humane approach to drug abuse by providing resources in the areas of prevention, harm-reduction and treatment programs. The American healthcare system is marked by division between private and public healthcare sources and a lack of universal coverage programs. This resulted in no groundwork for a hypothetical national health strategy when American legislators were considering drug reform in the 1980s (though scholars question if their motivations were genuine enough to consider reform based on healthcare, rather than criminal punitiveness). This juxtaposes Portugal, where the National Health Service had been well-equipped for years to provide universal, free, public-sponsored health coverage and was able to adapt efficiently to the prevention and treatment programs set forth in the 2001 decriminalization policy. João Goulão, the architect of Portugal’s policy, reflected on the conclusions of the expert panel that was obtained to help the government find a long-term, creative solution to the drug issue. “It made much more sense for us to treat drug addicts as patients who needed help, not as criminals,” he said. This leads directly to the chief priority of Portuguese drug strategy: not to allow the marginalization of those using and possessing drugs. In complete antithesis, the marginalization of those using and possessing drugs was, some scholars have argued, the priority of the architects of American drug strategy. This may be partially due to the different welfare states in each country: the American welfare state lacks national unity and thus, promotes individualism while the Portuguese welfare state is quite literally defined by national cohesiveness and inclusivity. Role of Religion Case Study Religion matters when considering policies a country implements because a country with unified religious opinions will see a more broad public consensus over issues while a country where religion acts as a polarizing force will not. The latter of these two options represents the United States, where the Moral Majority supported the War on Drugs despite its racially divisive policies. In what is perhaps the most prominent contrast of this entire paper, Portugal has a public which is incredibly unified religiously. Although Portugal has no official national religion, almost 90% of its population identifies as Roman-Catholic. In keeping with regional trends (with culturally and geographically similar countries like Spain and Italy), regular mass attendance, is on the decline; while devout Catholicism may be fading, the deep-seeded roots of the religion are ingrained both in everyday life and in politics. One of the most important impacts which Catholicism has had on Portuguese society is rendering it rather socially conservative. As the heroin crisis of the 1980s and 1990s escalated, it cut across all classes, impacting those in the highest and lowest echelons of Portuguese society alike. This meant that drug use became unusually visible: from shady street corners to the most fancy of discotheques. This did not bode well with the socially conservative Catholic society and the unified public religion put pressure on public officials to act. Conversely, public religious sentiment in America during the years of the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 were the opposite of unified. Groups of the same religion, such as the Moral Majority and black churches across America, both Christian organizations, failed to see eye-to-eye on drug issues. One group supported the War on Drugs and the other denounced it. The Christian Right’s support for the War on Drugs and the subsequent legacy of mass incarceration it established, shows a fundamental divide between the policy Black Christians desire and what White Evangelicals push for. The lack of unified sentiment from Christians in the United States, both in the 1980s and now, starkly contrasts Portugal where unified religion lead to widespread public support for ethical principles which directly motivated politicians to act. For the thousands of Black and Latino men who face the dark realities of mass-incarceration in the United States, religious-based political arguments and movements have made little headway on aiding their struggles and religion seems to drive parties and their constituencies farther and farther apart on key issues rather than unite and mobilize them. In Portugal, religion unites; in America, it polarizes. Conclusion Fundamental American writings like the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution promise the right to life, liberty and equal protection under the law. It is grim to realize these rights and protections have been unjustly removed for millions of incarcerated citizens. Minorities in America, specifically African American men, have been historically discriminated against, and the United States’ prison system is a continuation of this marginalization, as mass-incarceration locks a large percentage of African Americans out of mainstream economy and society. The shameful condition of the United States’ prison system is a legacy of the War on Drugs and policies like the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 which called for mandatory minimum sentences on the possession of certain drugs and allocated $2 billion to the crusade against drugs. It is still the backbone of federal sentencing guidelines today. Policies like this are why the incarceration rate has skyrocketed since the 1980s despite violent crime rates falling. The persistence of racial-targeting and racial-biases in the American criminal justice system today, including the fact that legislation such as the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 is still referenced, is opposed to the fundamental values upon which America was founded. The right to equal protection under the law, and the right to life and liberty are all desecrated by the institution of mass-incarceration. How did policy like the Anti-Drug Act of 1986 become implemented? It was due to the Reagan White House’s formula of fear mongering: creating public angst over a crack-cocaine crisis (which scholars dispute even existed pre-War on Drugs) to push a punitive criminal agenda. But, if not criminal harshness, what other ways might an industrialized and modern country respond to an increasing drug problem, supposed or real, and protect the rights and liberties of its citizens while doing so? Portugal responded to growing concern over drug use by rejecting a War-on-Drugs-style approach and instead decriminalized drug possession and use. This essay compared America and Portugal within the scope of three lenses: party systems, welfare systems and religious foundations. The vantage points revealed Portugal’s proportional representation system is more responsive than the American two-party system; its universal health-care system has stronger infrastructure with which to implement a widespread drug policy; the common Catholic faith brings communities together and unifies public opinion. These factors combine clearly when considering the policy decision Portugal implemented in June 2001. A morally-unified public saw a clear issue in the rise of heroin use and asked their coalition-style government for a solution. Legislators turned to and trusted technical expertise to find a creative solution: decriminalization of drug possession and use. The country’s National Health Service was readily prepared and built on pre-existing welfare infrastructure, to implement the policy’s prevention and recovery programs. Once implemented, the public supported it fully. Now, drugs have ceased to be a controversial issue in Portugal and any mention of returning to a War on Drugs style approach is shot down. These differences between America and Portugal, revealed by the case studies, are marked by increased responsiveness and morality on the part of the Europeans. This difference is further amplified when considering the country’s similarities: both advanced and well-educated, both industrialized and marked by diversity. If Portugal is able to implement policies which respond to the needs of their citizens, both in terms of health-concerns and political demands, while ensuring human rights are emphasized, why can’t the United States? The observed phenomena emphasizes the United States’ unwillingness to address the flaws of its criminal justice system due to its polarized party-system, divisive welfare-state and religious-infighting. Where the Portuguese Parliament is willing to compromise, the United States Congress chooses to bash negotiation. Where Portuguese healthcare is universal and free, the American welfare state is divisive and lacks coordination. Where Portuguese society is unified socially, American society is only further polarized. All of these lenses show one underlying theme: Portugal values and promotes human dignity while the United States promotes marginalization of its minorities and the polarization of its citizens. It is not America, but rather Portugal which emphasizes the inalienable right to life and liberty and equal protection under the law. While this realization may seem pessimistic, it should be taken constructively. These are, ultimately, American ideals which are being instilled abroad. Before mass incarceration and racial-biases in our prison system can truly end America must do a few things. Some may say these are radical and impossible but rather, they are the only actions in keeping with the country’s founding values. It must strive to increase responsiveness in its party system which currently only provides two diametrically opposed and negotiation-adverse viewpoints. It must attempt to unify a national healthcare strategy to benefit all citizens, regardless of race or wealth. It must remove the use of religion as a political shield during times of policy discussion and use it as a tool for unity instead. Only then, once the American party, healthcare and religious systems are rectified in order to align with this country’s intended values, can the horrors of mass-incarceration be amended. Works Cited Alexander, Michelle. The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. New Press, 2010. Bajekal, Naina. “Want to Win the War on Drugs? Portugal Might Have the Answer.” TIME, 1 Aug. 2018. Balakrishnan, P. V. (Sundar), and Jehoshua Eliashberg. “An Analytical Process Model of Two-Party Negotiations.” Management Science, vol. 41, no. 2, Feb. 1995, pp. 226–243. Berman, Douglas A. “Reflecting on the Latest Drug War Fronts.” Federal Sentencing Reporter, vol. 26, no. 4, Apr. 2014, pp. 213–216. “Criminal Justice Fact Sheet.” NAACP, 2019, www.naacp.org/criminal-justice-fact-sheet/. Hughes, Caitlin Elizabeth, et al. “What Can We Learn From The Portuguese Decriminalization of Illicit Drugs?”, The British Journal of Criminology, Volume 50, Issue 6, November 2010, Pages 999–1022. “Mass Incarceration.” American Civil Liberties Union, 2019, www.aclu.org/issues/smart-justice/mass-incarceration. Peffley, Mark, et al. “Racial Stereotypes and Whites' Political Views of Blacks in the Context of Welfare and Crime.” American Journal of Political Science, vol. 41, no. 1, 1997, p. 30. Roberts, Dorothy E. “The Social and Moral Cost of Mass Incarceration in African American Communities.” Stanford Law Review, vol. 56, no. 5, 2004 Stanford Law Review Symposium: Punishment and Its Purposes, 1 Apr. 2004, pp. 1271–1305. Robinson, Carin. “From Every Tribe and Nation? Blacks and the Christian Right.” Social Science Quarterly, vol. 87, no. 3, 2006, pp. 591–601. JSTOR. Smith, Catherine Delano, and Jose Shercliff. “Portugal: Government and Society.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 2019. United States. Cong. Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986. 99th Cong. Public Law 99-570. Washington: GPO, 1986. Van Het Loo, M., Van Beusekom, I., & Kahan, J. P. (2002). Decriminalization of Drug Use in Portugal: The Development of a Policy. The ANNALS of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 582(1), 49–63. Williams, Daniel K. “Reagan’s Religious Right: The Unlikely Alliance between Southern Evangelicals and a California Conservative.” Ronald Reagan and the 1980s, 2008, pp. 135–149.

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Moral Manipulation A Kantian Take on Advertising and Campaigning Sylvia Gunn The Australian National University Author Ebba Brunnstrom Grace Engelman Matthew Flathers Editors Fall 2018 Kantian moral philosophy applied to appeals to emotion in advertising and campaigning; analysis, comparison and critique. The ethics of manipulation are important for anyone whose goals rely on changing people’s behavior, but who do not wish to violate moral laws. Kant’s emphasis on avoiding the violation of others’ humanity makes his philosophy particularly applicable to this topic. Although Kantian philosophy tells us that lying is immoral, the status of appealing to animal instincts is unclear. This essay will define a common maxim to describe these appeals in advertising and campaigning, and analyze this maxim under each formulation of Kant’s categorical imperative. Previous work has considered the ethics of advertising, Kantian and otherwise, without making the comparison to campaigning. This article will shine further light on the importance of understanding the value of emotion in Kantian philosophy, rather than rejecting appeals to emotion entirely. Kantian philosophy requires that we define a maxim to describe the action, and its context, and its intention, in order to analyze an agent’s choice and its moral implications. This essay takes ‘appeals to emotion’ and ‘appeals to animal nature’ to refer to the same behavior, namely the use of persuasive techniques to create an instinctual or emotional response in our target, rather than a purely rational response. In the Kantian sense, rationality refers to one’s deliberate actions, which can take into account emotions, higher order desires, and moral considerations. The examples of advertising and campaigning will aid in this discussion. To avoid consideration of a ‘cool-off period’ during which the emotional response might wear off or be rationally processed, we will assume that the target can act immediately in response to the appeal. The advertiser wishes to convince people to buy their product or service, and uses appeals to serve this purpose. For example, an insurance salesperson might appeal to fear, recounting tales of disasters to compel potential customers to buy the most comprehensive plans. Alternatively, a company may use associative advertising, which involves portraying someone who uses the product or service as happy, successful, or otherwise benefitted, without explicitly claiming that the product creates this result. Conversely, the campaigner may make an appeal to empathy, displaying images of starving children in order to compel potential supporters to donate. The maxim, in both cases, is “Where it serves my purpose, I will make an appeal to my target’s animal instincts, to encourage them to do what I want”. In order to determine whether my maxim is permissible in Kant, we shall put it through all three formulations of the categorical imperative in the Groundwork to the Metaphysics of Morals. The categorical imperative is intended to be a universal concept of morality, acceptable to all moral beings. Kant claims that there is “only a single categorical imperative”[1] which is the formula of universal law. The other formulations, that of humanity and that of the kingdom of ends, are alternative ways of spelling out the same moral ideals. Each provides guidance, particularly when maxims are vague and manipulable, or when some formulation does not produce clear results. The first half of this essay analyses the maxim under Kant’s three formulations, concluding that appeals are only ethical in the Kantian sense when there is a certain degree of certainty that the target knows that those appeals are occurring. The first formulation, the formula for universal law, tells us that maxims are only acceptable if it would be possible and acceptable for them to become universal law. According to this formula, emotional appeals are not wholly unacceptable, but they may in some cases interfere with my other ends. The second formulation, the formula for humanity, tells us that one must never violate another’s autonomy or rational capacity. Thus, appeals are only acceptable if my target is aware of their occurrence. Finally, the third formulation, the kingdom of ends, requires me to act on the expectation that others are generally rational, although they can be temporarily overcome by emotion. Thus I should make appeals only when the context makes it clear that appeals are occurring – such as in advertising slots. Moreover, in situations where I can gauge whether the person is engaging rationally, I need not exercise the same caution before the appeal is made. This implies that direct interactions, such as campaign conversations, may allow for stronger appeals to emotion than broadcast communications such as adverts. This does not draw out a clear distinction between the use of appeals in advertising and their use in campaigning, but it does give both campaigners and door-to-door salespeople some extra scope. The second section of this essay discusses two issues with this conclusion. Firstly, it fails to distinguish between appeals to harmless emotions and emotions that reflect harmful societal norms. Secondly, it does not take into account the larger good consequences of an action, particularly relating to campaigning. These objections constitute a rejection of Kantian philosophy, which does not allow for any sacrifice of human rationality for the greater good, in favor of a pluralist philosophy. Rather than a weakness, this second objection could describe a strength of Kantian philosophy: it provides a framework for a theory of slow and sure social change, which does not rely on human’s animal instincts, but only their rationality. Existing Literature Philips considers the question of emotionally manipulative advertising in relation to multiple ethical frameworks and concludes that the Kantian perspective would rule it out. His consideration of the formula of universal law finds that you should not engage in manipulative advertising that would work on you, as the universalization of this maxim would see you manipulated, which conflicts with your other ends. Interpreting Kant’s formula for humanity to mean that one must not override the will by appealing to emotion, he initially finds that his maxim does not treat humanity as an end in itself. He then provides a reshaped maxim that characterizes appeals as an argument that the target engages with rationally. To Phillips, it is unclear which of these maxims is correct under the Kantian account.[2] My account, in contrast, will apply Kantian moral psychology to appeals, incorporating the target’s engagement with the appeal. Partially because of this, and partially because my maxim only includes appeals that will work to some extent if the target is aware of its occurrence, my conclusion is different from Phillips' version. In contrast, Phillips’ maxim includes subliminal messaging, which works exclusively when the target does not know that they are occurring. Kant addresses some related topics that aid the discussion of this question, without directly addressing the issue at hand. These examples provide context to the question, and allow for assessment of our interpretation of Kant. If an interpretation changes the conclusions that we have already accepted, that interpretation is not hugely accurate to the original ideas. Beyond that, Herman’s perspective on interpretations is a good guide: it is enough to argue that one can [interpret it that way]. The rest should be decided by the fruitfulness of the concept.’[3] Rather than try to find the opinion that Kant would have held, particularly considering that his views on many issues were inconsistent with his philosophy,[4] we should develop an interpretation based on the parts of Kant’s philosophy that we accept. Kant’s discussion of the false promise finds it immoral under each formulation of the categorical imperative. The maxim ‘[I will,] when hard pressed, make a promise with the intention not to keep it’ is not universalizable, as it would not be possible if everybody applied it by law, and everyone thus became aware that promises held no value.[5] Moreover, it violates the target’s humanity on two counts. Firstly, they are unable to give or withhold consent to the lie, and secondly, they would not agree to the promise if they knew it were a lie. Deception is comparable but not equivalent to appeals to animal instinct, which can involve deception of the will. If levels of manipulation can be placed on a scale, depending on the extent that informed choice is taken from the target, the lying promise is a well-defined immoral upper bound. Kant’s discussion of our duties towards animals and children are also relevant to this discussion; they give insights into our treatment of irrational actions. Rather than interacting with less rational beings, my maxim involves appealing to the less rational instincts within rational beings. In doing this, we should acknowledge that people have different capacities for rationality. In relation to animals, one’s duty is to avoid unnecessary mistreatment, but this is primarily to protect our own moral senses. Some interpretations of Kant have expanded on these duties based on animals’ partial rationality.[6] It is also acceptable to treat children and the mentally impaired differently from fully rational adults, but with more restrictions again, noting their partial or changing levels of rationality. In valuing rationality, we should promote and enhance the rationally of such beings,[7] without holding them as responsible as we do fully rational adults. The Formula for Universal Law According to Kantian analysis, there is no perfect duty against the maxim of appeal to emotion. A perfect duty exists against a maxim where it would not be possible to will it if it were universal law.[8] Although the concept of a maxim being universal law is contested, it essentially means that any rational agent who found themself in the same context with the same intention would perform the same action. Unlike in the example of the lying promise explained above, appeals to animal nature can still be effective even when people are aware that they might be occurring, and even when people know for sure that they are happening. In our insurance advertising example, awareness of an emotional argument does not dissipate our fear that the same disasters could befall us. Knowledge that an appeal is occurring makes us more critical of the appeal in the same way that knowledge of a news publication being biased will make us more critical of the way it presents the facts. Thus, the maxim may be less likely to make the target do what I want if the maxim is universalized, but it will still encourage them. For example, a rational response to an associative advertisement for perfume would be to acknowledge that the positive emotions evoked might make me enjoy the product more, allowing this to influence my decision to buy it, along with the actual smell of the perfume, its price and my perception of the company. Universalization of my maxim would weaken its effect, but allow it the same meaning and similar result. Whether there is an imperfect duty against this maxim is indeterminate. The imperfect duty exists where the establishment of my maxim as universal law conflicts with my other end(s). A world where people, as universal law, appeal to animal instinct rather than rationality whenever it suits them could inhibit the realization of one’s other ends in a range of ways. The most obvious of these is if others used the appeals to change my behavior and in the process abandon my original ends. Phillips argues that this would only rule out making appeals that I know would work on me, which would not make for universal moral duty between different people.[9] However, this interpretation simplifies universalization, which would be a rather complex process. As Rawls argues, the formula for universal law creates an “adjusted social world” wherein agents practice such appeals as though it is inherent to their nature.[10] The existence of such a social world could involve a range of things, depending on how the idea of universal law is understood. At one extreme, we would not be able to tell when we ourselves are making these appeals, and they thus would be almost unrecognizable when others were making them to us. This would make us more susceptible to them and thus more likely to be swayed against our will. The opposite extreme, that we are aware of these appeals but still unable to stop ourselves from making them, would have different implications. The appeals would still work in some cases, but they would presumably fail whenever they were not adequately appealing to the will, which would be aware of the appeals, and decide rationally to accept them on the basis of emotional desires. However, the best interpretation seems to be somewhere in between these: although we would recognize these appeals sometimes, we would not understand them well enough to always recognize them. If this maxim were to be taken as a universal law like gravity or Pythagoras’ Theorem, it would gradually be increasingly understood through science – in particular, psychology and behavioral science. The exact effect of universalizing this maxim is, due to this complexity, unclear. The Formula for Humanity Kant’s formula of humanity as an end in itself gives us significantly clearer guidance for the maxim. Kant requires not that we never use other rational beings as means, as that would be near impossible, but that we never use them merely as means.[11] Any act where someone uses another as a means to an end consensually is acceptable. For example, if Alice buys a coffee from a barista at a mutually acceptable rate, they have both acted morally, despite Alice using the barista as her means to acquire a coffee, and the barista using Alice as their means to acquire money. However, we do not owe the same duty to irrational beings. It is the presence of a will that makes someone human, and it is this humanity to which one owes consent. Two different characterizations of humans’ decision-making capacities, which we shall respectively call ‘irrational’ and ‘rational’, point us to similar conclusions, but with slightly different implications. Kant describes our decision-making as generally rational, except in the cases where our emotions become “affects” and “passions”, and we lose some control of our actions, in which case we are irrational[12] . Under the irrational characterization, the will can be overridden by our animal nature. This occurs when people are under stress, or otherwise incapacitated, such that their emotions can override their rational sense. One common example of this phenomenon would be the ‘fight or flight’ response. In this case it is clear that my maxim conflicts with the formula of humanity. In the contexts described, I am using the target’s humanity as a means, as without it I could not get what I want. That is to say, I could not get money or political support from a child, robot or animal. However, rather than treating their humanity as an end, I am bypassing their humanity to appeal to their animal instincts, and gaining from their humanity in the process. Even if I ask for consent to make my appeal, or they have full knowledge that the appeal is occurring, if my target is behaving irrationally, the appeal can change their behavior by overriding the will and thus violating their humanity. It could be argued, as a rebuttal, that irrational persons are not deserving of this protection, as we have no moral duty to one without rational capacity. However, this would not constitute the protection of rational nature, which deserves regard even when it is incomplete or temporarily incapacitated.[13] This is why we have different duties surrounding addictive substances, and selling alcohol to the intoxicated. Like children, people behaving irrationally have latent rationality, and we should try to engage with that, rather than taking advantage of their irrationality. Under the second characterization, people are consistently rational, but animal instincts form inclinations that influence our behavior. Kant’s distinction in the original German between the willkür and wille helps aid this discussion. The willkür (will) ultimately makes the decisions, but animal inclinations and the wille (moral faculties) make up the arguments for the action. This concept is regularly characterized as ‘autonomy of the will’, which ‘is not the special achievement of the most independent, but a property of any reasoning being’.[14] Thus, the ‘appeal’ to animal instincts in my maxim does not make animal instincts decide for us, but strengthens the argument on behalf of those instincts. In this case, the target is able to consider their emotional response through their will, but surely only if they are aware that the argument is affecting their emotions. The target can only rationally engage with the appeal if they are aware of it, and this is a key factor to whether my maxim violates the target’s humanity. This has similarities with Phillips’ second interpretation of his maxim, wherein people treat emotional arguments as logical ones, assessing them from that perspective using the will. The maxim can be split into two scenarios to accommodate this change: “Where it serves my purpose, I will use persuasion to appeal to another person’s animal instincts without their knowledge, to encourage them to do what I want”. “Where it serves my purpose, I will use persuasion to appeal to another person’s animal instincts with their knowledge, to encourage them to do what I want”. In the first case, I consciously appeal to their animal instincts without their knowledge, using their humanity merely as a means to an end – they are furthering my political or economic goal in a way that a child or animal generally could not. However, in the second, the appeal to animal instincts is only as immoral as indulging one’s own animal instincts: it is an instance of a will allowing the animal instincts inherent in the human form to influence its behavior. The question that remains, on what counts as knowledge, deserves focused attention in the discussion of how this maxim would be treated by Kant’s formulation of the kingdom of ends. The Kingdom of Ends As we move into a discussion of the kingdom of ends, we have essential questions left to answer. The first formulation does not clarify our duty, but analysis of the second has ruled out appeals that my target is not consciously aware of. We still need a contextual definition of knowledge, and an account of how I may know my target possesses it. Clearly, appeals where they are completely unexpected are not allowed, as they involve a violation of trust and no opportunity for the will to make a decision. Thus, using subtle messaging to convince your friend to come to 350.org meetings is out of the question. Conversely, appeals where active consent has been gained are clearly acceptable. A door-to-door insurance salesperson who gains active consent to tell her tales of tragedy, noting that they may incite fear, should feel no qualms in doing so. However, the target’s knowledge does not necessarily require active consent. Advertising and campaigning occur in marked zones, like in television advert slots and conversations at stalls. People are aware of the norms in these areas, and not only are they able to physically tune out, they are also able to think and react critically. It would be overstepping the Kantian mark to say that we should only ever appeal to our target’s autonomous will, and never engage directly with their emotions. Abiding by such a rule would severely decrease one’s persuasive ability.[15] In a sense, this would constitute failure to respect one’s own subjective ends – the ends one desires to bring about, but which do not necessarily hold moral worth. Moreover, it is not our duty to make sure others act rationally – only to ensure that we are not violating their autonomy. While the easiest answer for the moral stickler is to consistently ask for the consent, or avoid emotional appeals altogether, those who do not wish to dampen the results of their business or campaign with unnecessarily bad persuasion should push further. Kant’s final formulation, the kingdom of ends, by his own account combines the preceding two formulations for a ‘systematic union of several rational beings through universal laws’.[16] In this moral kingdom, only humanity has ultimate worth, but rational beings’ subjective ends have substitutable value, which we have a duty to respect. Acting as though one were in the kingdom of ends involves interacting with others as though they are autonomous rational agents, giving them some degree of responsibility as well as some charity.[17] The weighing up of responsibility and charity is essential to determining the moral value and practical application of my maxim. Treating others as ends in the kingdom means not only allowing them consent, but also holding them responsible for their actions because they are a rational agent. In doing this we should be charitable, by taking into account moral education and relevant personal history, and by realizing that ‘even the best of us can slip’.[18] Korsgaard discusses judgments of rationality after someone else has acted, but the same judgments can be extended in considering the moral acceptability of an action that changes others’ actions. We have a moral obligation to judge people primarily using the second characterization of decision-making, which allows my maxim wherever the target has knowledge of the appeal. However, when we have good reason to believe their rationality is incapacitated, we should judge them under the first characterization. Within certain contexts, namely advertising and campaigning spaces, the consent to appeals to animal instincts are implicit – people are aware that these appeals happen, and they have freedom to opt out of these interactions. Moreover, in knowing that the appeals occur, they are able to engage critically with these appeals, using their will. However, a charitable view means realizing that sometimes my target will be irrational. Even though my intention is not to manipulate, a badly developed view of their rational capacities could mean that my appeal inadvertently treats them merely as a means. This is especially likely if my appeal is done with a parochial lack of awareness of the target’s culture and moral education.[19] We thus have a responsibility to gain knowledge of which maxims are likely to violate another’s human dignity, even if they would not do so if committed against us. For advertisers and campaigners, the target’s knowledge as a moral necessity means ruling out some forms of advertising, and making a concerted effort to consider the specific target audience, and avoid practices that would likely violate their autonomy. Although there will still be some risk of the target having a purely emotional response, dedicated and genuine engagement with this issue is in itself treating them as an end. Such consideration will also result in better engagement with the will, and has practical implications in terms of duty. Although these distinctions do not clearly separate campaigning and advertising, they do leave the tactics usually used by campaigners with more latitude. Advertising that purposely engages only with animal instincts is immoral. This means we have a perfect duty against advertising that tries to stimulate ‘impulse buys’, or similarly, campaigning that manipulates the weak-willed to support a campaign. Moreover, relating to the question of the target’s knowledge, it is worthwhile to consider the difference between direct appeals and broadcast appeals. Direct appeals involve interpersonal interaction where the agent witnesses the reaction of their target, while broadcast appeals do not. Although both advertising and campaigning use direct and broadcast methods, campaigning often makes more use of the first, and advertising more of the second. In interpersonal engagements, the persuader will notice many characteristics of the target. They can gauge the target’s apparent state of mind, and whether their engagement seems rational or emotional. On account of this knowledge, the persuader has heightened power to manipulate the target. However, the moral response is, rather than exploiting this power, creating the perfect balance between making a convincing case, and ensuring that their target is behaving responsibly. For broadcast methods, appeals to animal instinct must necessarily be more explicit, and practiced with caution appropriate to the situation. Evaluating the Kantian Account The Kantian treatment of this issue reveals some controversial issues with Kantian ethics in the way it avoids any consequentialist considerations. Such considerations involve weighing up the consequences of an action in analyzing its moral worth. One problem with the Kantian account lies in its lack of differentiation between different types of emotional responses. I would have liked this analysis to develop a duty against advertisements for beauty products that manipulate an irrational connection between image and self-worth. The appeal can still work even if the target knows that it is occurring, because the association gains strength from societal norms. Even with a pre-warning saying ‘this ad associates beauty with worthiness’ the advertisement will only remind the target of their experience of this association. In this way, it plays on emotions caused by social anxiety, and amplifies harmful norms in a way that appeals to hunger or empathy do not. Moreover, this appeal’s effectiveness does not depend on whether society actually values people according to aesthetics; it is about the rational, but potentially uninformed view of the target. Furthermore, the association between beauty and worthiness is not a lie, but an opinion, albeit a harmful one. There is some room to argue that such appeals normalize irrational associations, in effect decreasing the rational capacity of individuals over time. However, this relies on a subjective characterization of irrationality, verging on paternalism, and does not hold rational agents responsible for engaging with their own emotions. It would be more accurate to say that such appeals, although respecting rationality, have harmful consequences – a concept that Kantian philosophy does not incorporate. A full account of ethical appeals in advertising needs to rule out any appeals that lazily amplify existing but harmful social norms – but this consequentialist goal does not fit within Kantian ethics. In other areas, the Kantian approach rules out some appeals that a consequentialist might accept. Although this could be seen as an issue with the Kantian approach, it is also one of its strengths. Any Kantian would accept the argument that certain persuasive methods have no moral worth, no matter what their larger aim is. However, pluralist philosophies, in rejecting the primacy of rationality to place a substitutable value on the target’s autonomy, may find that the campaigner should be allowed more scope to manipulate their target emotionally. Given that their campaign has a sufficiently good end, and sufficiently high chances of success, and given that Kantian reasoning would be significantly less effective, a pluralist philosophy incorporating Kantian reasoning and and consequentialism would allow some manipulation in a campaigning context that would not be allowed in a purely selfish advertising context. The Kantian emphasis on universalization and non-interference is at odds with the goals of the campaigner, who is trying to right some wrong often caused by the immoral behavior of others. In fact, Sher’s discussion provides a framework in which the amount the product benefits the consumer may be a sufficient defense for using manipulative advertising.[20] A pluralistic view of morality would likely permit more manipulative appeals in advertising or campaigning, if the campaign or product were sufficiently good. Even accepting pluralism, the above account may not hold for campaigns, because appeals to animal instincts can have wider negative consequences. Firstly, the increased success, or likelihood of success, of the campaign may not be large enough to outweigh violation of people’s autonomy. Secondly, the recruitment of emotionally driven supporters could lead to a less principled campaign base, or a less enduring campaign. Making a moral decision incorporating such factors would require a thorough assessment of risk and benefit. The Kantian approach precludes these empirical considerations, in turn encouraging a slow, reliably moral approach to social change. This firm adherence to avoiding harm acts as a kind of safeguard to prevent blindly emotionally driven, badly considered campaigns, with supporters that are ultimately being exploited.[21] Even if my campaign is one that aims to protect others’ autonomy, for example, by freeing people from torture, my perfect Kantian duty is to not violate others’ autonomy, while the duty to protect rationality from others’ interference is an imperfect duty, and can only be achieved through moral means. Kantian ethics provides a clear account of our moral duties in the sphere of appeals to animal instincts. In some cases, where I have no reason to think that the target might engage rationally with emotional appeals, they are indefensible. In cases where the context allows for rational engagement, my duty is to consider the target as both responsible and manipulable, and genuinely consider whether I need to adapt my tactics to ensure their humanity is not violated. My intention should always be to strengthen the emotional argument, giving them ample opportunity to engage rationally with the appeal, rather than making emotions control my target. The Kantian account of duty is largely acceptable, but weakened by its failure to differentiate between benign and harmful animal instincts. Although the pluralist might find some issues with the Kantian account as it relates to campaigning, its clear conclusion provides us with a useful, albeit incomplete guide to social change without adverse consequences. Endnotes [1] Kant, Immanuel. (1997). Groundwork to the Metaphysics of Morals (GMM) In Gregor, Mary J. Practical Philosophy. Cambridge University Press. (4:421) [2] Phillips, Michael J. (1997) Ethics and Manipulation in Advertising: Answering a Flawed Indictment. Greenwood Publishing Group. [3] Herman, Barbara. (1997). ‘A Cosmopolitan Kingdom of Ends’. In Andrews Reath, Barbara Herman, Christine M. Korsgaard & John Rawls (eds.). Reclaiming the History of Ethics: Essays for John Rawls. Cambridge University Press. pp. 187-213 [4] Louden, Robert B. (2000). Kant's Impure Ethics: From Rational Beings to Human Beings. Oxford University Press. [5] Kant, Groundwork to the Metaphysics of Morals, (4:402) [6] Korsgaard, Christine M. (2004). ‘Fellow creatures: Kantian ethics and our duties to animals’. Tanner Lectures on Human Values 24: 77-110. [7] Wood, Allen W. (1998). Kant on Duties Regarding Nonrational Nature. Aristotelian Society Supplementary Volume 72 (1):189–210. [8] Wood, Kant on Duties Regarding Nonrational Nature, 189–210 [9] Phillips, (1997), Ethics and Manipulation in Advertising. [10] Rawls, John. (2000). ‘The Four-Step CI Procedure’ In Lectures on the History of Moral Philosophy. Harvard University Press. p. 169. [11] Kant, Groundwork to the Metaphysics of Morals, (4:429) [12] Formosa, Paul. (2013). ‘Kant’s Conception of Personal Autonomy’. Journal of Social Philosophy 44, no. 3. pp. 193-212.p. 198. [13] Wood, (1998) ‘Kant on Duties Regarding Nonrational Nature’. [14] O'Neill, Onora. (1989) Constructions of Reason. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. p. 76. [15] Baron, Marcia. (2002). ‘Acting from Duty’ In Wood. Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals. Yale University Press. pp. 92-110 [16] Kant, Groundwork to the Metaphysics of Morals, (4:433) [17] Korsgaard, Christine M. (1992). ‘Creating the Kingdom of Ends: Reciprocity and Responsibility in Personal Relations’. Philosophical Perspectives, Vol. 6 Ethics. pp. 305-332 [18] Korsgaard, Creating the Kingdom of Ends: Reciprocity and Responsibility in Personal Relations, 324 [19] Herman, (1997) ‘A Cosmopolitan Kingdom of Ends’. [20] Sher, Shlomo. (2011). ‘A Framework for Assessing Immorally Manipulative Marketing Tactics’, Journal of Business Ethics 102, pp.97–118 [21] One contemporary example of such a campaign is the KONY 2012 movement, which initially avoided scrutiny by motivating people’s support by appealing to their emotions. References Baron, Marcia. (2002). ‘Acting from Duty’ In Wood. Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals. Yale University Press. pp. 92-110 Formosa, Paul. (2013). ‘Kant’s Conception of Personal Autonomy’. Journal of Social Philosophy 44, no. 3. pp. 193-212. Herman, Barbara. (1997). ‘A Cosmopolitan Kingdom of Ends’ In Andrews Reath, Barbara Herman, Christine M. Korsgaard & John Rawls (eds.), Reclaiming the History of Ethics: Essays for John Rawls. Cambridge University Press. pp. 187-213 Kant, Immanuel. (1997). Groundwork to the Metaphysics of Morals (GMM). In Gregor, Mary J., Practical Philosophy. Cambridge University Press. Korsgaard, Christine M. (1992). ‘Creating the Kingdom of Ends: Reciprocity and Responsibility in Personal Relations’. Philosophical Perspectives, Vol. 6 Ethics. pp. 305-332 Korsgaard, Christine M. (2004). ‘Fellow creatures: Kantian ethics and our duties to animals’. Tanner Lectures on Human Values 24: 77-110. Louden, Robert B. (2000). Kant's Impure Ethics: From Rational Beings to Human Beings. Oxford University Press. O'Neill, Onora. (1989). Constructions of Reason, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Phillips, Michael J. (1997) Ethics and Manipulation in Advertising: Answering a Flawed Indictment, Greenwood Publishing Group. Rawls, John. (2000). ‘The Four-Step CI Procedure’ In Lectures on the History of Moral Philosophy. Harvard University Press. Sher, Shlomo. (2011). ‘A Framework for Assessing Immorally Manipulative Marketing Tactics’. Journal of Business Ethics 102. pp. 97–118 Wood, Allen W. (1998). Kant on Duties Regarding Nonrational Nature. Aristotelian Society Supplementary Volume, 72 (1):189–210.

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The Imagined Isle Irish Catholic Identity in the Restoration Era Nathan Mainster Brown University Author Matthew Dowling Armaan Grewal Kara Huang Shreya Raghunandan Rudra Srivastava Editors Fall 2018 This essay explores to what extent an Irish Catholic nation formed in the Restoration Era. The Bleeding Iphigenia, written by Nicholas French, Bishop of Ferns, in the early 1670s and published in 1674, informs the reader of the principal metaphor which governs the tract: “The author hath drawne another Iphigenia of the body of a noble, ancient Catholic Nation clad all in red Robes.” He then claims to speak on behalf of said nation, writing that he, “presents to the view of our gracious King Charles the second a Catholic People, his faithful subjects wounded by thieves, and left half dead.” His request is also spelled out: “I beseech you, gentle Reader, pray to God for my afflicted Country, and for the Catholic Religion therein persecuted.”[1] The confidence with which French asserts the existence of a Catholic nation is striking; most scholars, including Joseph Leerssen, Tom Garvin, and Jim Smyth, maintain that neither an Irish Catholic nation nor a concept of nationalism appeared until the eighteenth century. The inherent social and political complexities of the Restoration era (1660-88), originating from a gaping ideological and power vacuum following the frenetic confusion of the Interregnum, coupled with the self-interested imperative of rebuilding of pre-Cromwellian life, effectively forestalled religious or national coalescence. Experiences of the war and of the post-war settlement did not fall neatly along confessional lines; in many cases, Protestants and Catholics of certain classes or political persuasions had more in common with each other than with their co-religionists. However, in the discursive realm, the confusion of the Restoration era provided fertile ground for the unification of the Irish Catholic interest. By the time of the Glorious Revolution, Protestant lawyer Richard Cox claimed that, “the Old English...are now so infatuated and degenerated, that they do not only take part with the Irish, but call themselves Natives.”[2] Protestants and Catholics clashed bitterly over a multitude of issues, and the politics of memory ensured that battles fought during the 1640s were replayed in an intellectual context. In an attempt to justify their positions during the Interregnum, Irish Protestants aggravated the memory of the 1641 rebellion, focusing on the epoch wherein Catholic loyalty to the crown may have been called into question. New pamphlets emphasizing the barbarity of the Irish Catholics during said revolt proliferated, and old ones, such as Sir John Temple’s famous 1646 account, enjoyed consistent reprintings. The Irish parliament indirectly participated in these politics of paranoia by forming a “committee for the preservation of the rights of Protestants” in Ireland, in response to falsified reports of another rebellion.[3] Combined with the bitter realities of mass dispossession, political disenfranchisement, and marginalization, one would think that the volatile Restoration period would foster an atmosphere conducive for Catholic nationhood. However, such a notion was not fully-fledged during the Restoration. Instead, the time period laid the ideological framework for such a concept by embedding the notion of Ireland as a Catholic nation in propagandistic discourse, thus recognizing Catholic unity as a desirable goal. Though Irish Catholic nationhood did not develop in a visible sense, it became a standard theme of contemporary political dialogue, in which several complex versions of unity were promulgated to support the view of individual authors. The idea of nationhood emerged from the fray, guaranteeing that following the Restoration period “Ireland” became a decidedly Catholic entity. The Divisions in Catholic Irish Society The disappointing reality of Catholic Ireland in the Restoration period was one marred by entrenched intra-communal conflict. The ancient divisions between the Old English and Gaelic ethnicities, the two major Catholic groups, were far from obscured. Though intermarriage and centuries of interaction had helped to diffuse certain quotidian cultural distinctions, sentiments of prejudice, distrust, and alienation overwhelmingly predominated.[4] State-sponsored discrimination, even by the likes of Catholic heroes such as the Earl of Tyrconnell, and mutual animosity, served to definitively prevent Catholics from cooperating across ethnic lines.[5] Irish Catholics were no more unified by the experience of the land settlement. On 23 October 1641, sources suggest that Irish Catholics possessed 69 percent of Ireland’s profitable land; during the Interregnum, this figure was reduced to 10 percent. However, when the Stuarts were restored to the throne, Catholic land ownership increased significantly to 30 percent due to the briefly-operational court of claims, which rather clumsily attempted to restore unjustly dispossessed Catholics, royal sympathy, and access to patronage.[6] This rather arbitrarily orchestrated and haphazard process ensured that Catholic experiences with the settlement were myriad. Spokesmen for dispossessed Catholics such as Sir Nicholas Plunkett and Richard Talbot, and later the Earl of Tyrconnell, spent much of the 1660s at Whitehall lobbying for the restoration of their co-religionists. They asserted that the 1648 peace entitled Irish Catholics to full restoration of property of which they had been stripped by Parliamentarians, and as such undermined the legitimacy of the Cromwellian claims.[7] Perhaps the greatest single effort occurred in 1670, when 52 dispossessed Irish Catholics and their supporters sent Talbot to present a petition to the King and parliament for full Catholic restoration. Delivered in the name of the King’s, “Most distressed subjects of your kingdom of Ireland who were outed of their estates by the late usurped government and are not yet restored,” the petition claimed that under the terms of the 1648 peace treaty, most, if not all, Catholics were entitled to repossession, and requested an “Act of Indemnity” and fair revision of the settlement act. The argument was underscored by a narrative of unwavering Catholic loyalty from the Interregnum to the present in the face of Cromwellian temptation. This argument fell on deaf ears: the Crown rejected the proposal, citing the material and political benefits already wrought by the land settlement.[8] The land settlement meant that 20 percent of dispossessed lands did return to Catholic hands. Patronage or sound political connections proved to be of paramount importance in procuring articles of restoration, and men such as Viscount Muskerry, the Marquis of Antrim, the Talbots of Malahide, and the Earl of Carlingford found their estates restored or expanded thanks to covert political machinations.[9] Consequently, a powerful minority of “new interest” Catholics emerged and effectively stonewalled any legislation altering the settlement throughout the Restoration period. Indeed, they wholeheartedly endorsed bills to confirm their titles at the expense of their unrestored co-religionists. In 1678 and 1680, Lord Lieutenant Ormond unsuccessfully attempted to call a parliament to pass legislation which would fully complete the land settlement. Under the proposed acts, the dealings of the court of claims were to be formalized and a commission was to be entrusted to investigate uncertain titles. In other words, further possibility of restoration would be curtailed. Predictably, responses to the bill polarized around the experience of the settlement; restored Catholics such as Colonel John Fitzpatrick and Nicholas Taaffe, Earl of Carlingford actually traveled to London to support the legislation and to counter the claims of unrestored Catholics or their advocates who simultaneously pleaded their case at Whitehall. The legislation was eventually killed in its crib due to the unstable political climate resulting from the so-called popish plot, but the similarly difficult experience of James II in attempting to overturn the land settlement provides equally illuminating insight. Upon his accession, distraught Catholics rejoiced over the prospect of a co-religionist as their sovereign and hopes for a reversed land settlement ignited anew. Yet once again the vocal minority of restored Catholics consistently and forcefully lobbied against any alterations. In 1689, the Earl of Tyrconnell, new Lord Deputy of Ireland, fulfilled his dream of the past two decades and called a parliament to overturn, or at least drastically transform, the land settlement. His efforts were met with immediate opposition. A petition presented to James composed by “new interest” Catholics and Old Protestants warned of the inevitable downturn the Irish economy would face should land be confiscated from the settlement’s beneficiaries. It rejected the disaffected Catholics’ contentions that the court of claims did not operate for sufficient time to evaluate the Irish situation effectively, and affirmed the conservative Declaration for Ireland of November 1660 as the basis for the settlement. The petition ended with a cautionary warning of desertion from the Jacobite camp if the land settlement was overturned: “Suffer me to make one step more, and query: Whether the Catholic Purchasers now to be turned out of possession, will join heartily with those that enter upon them?” This faction aligned themselves with Old Protestant representatives in the House of Lords to block the legislation. In the end, those in favor of repeal represented the larger interest, and James, forced to choose between war funding and bankruptcy, conceded to their demands and began to repeal the settlement. Even religion itself proved to be a divisive force. Questions of the monarch’s role in ecclesiastical structures and Irish Catholics’ often contradictory obligations to Rome and London precipitated not only acrimonious debate, but also persecution and bitterly vindictive conflict. These debates found their visible manifestation in the proposed 1661 remonstrance. This petition, attempted to reconcile the dissonance in Catholic theo-political theory created by their dual loyalty by affirming the supremacy of secular loyalty to the crown. The petition was also a political document responding to contemporary Stuart policy, whose ultimate object was to assert the right of Catholics to participate in a political society which increasingly appeared to cater solely to Protestant interests.[10] The remonstrance emphasized the Catholic duty of, “being entrusted by the indispensable Commission of the King of Kings with the Cure of Souls...and teaching the People that perfect Obedience...they are bound to pay to your Majesties Commands,” yet they still found themselves, “loaden with Calumnies, and persecuted with severity.” They lamented that they could not “with freedom appear to justify [our] Innocence, all the Fictions and Allegations against them are received as undoubted Verities;” and thus seek to “humbly beg your Majesties pardon, to vindicate both by the ensuing Protestation” their loyalty. The petition claims that, “These being the Tenets of our Religion, in point of Loyalty and Submission to your Majesty’s Commands, and our dependence of the See of Rome no way intrenching upon that perfect Obedience...we are bound to pay to your Majesty,” and elaborates on these “tenets”: "We do acknowledge and confess your Majesty to be our true and lawful King, supreme Lord, and rightful Sovereign of this Realm of Ireland, and of all other your Majesties Dominions. And therefore we acknowledge and confess our selves to be obliged...to obey your Majesty in all Civil and Temporal Affairs ... as the Laws and Rules of Government in this Kingdom do require at our hands. And that notwithstanding any power or pretension of the Pope... or by any Authority, Spiritual or Temporal, proceeding or derived from him, or his See, against your Majesty, or Royal Authority, we will still acknowledge and perform, to the uttermost of our abilities, our faithful Loyalty, and true Allegiance to your Majesty."[11] The remonstrance prioritized temporal loyalty over spiritual, denied the pope any tangible jurisdiction over monarchs, and implied that the pope’s role in secular affairs was an advisory one devoid of real political power if the monarch opposed his judgment. It was signed by 98 Catholic peers and sent to Ormond in 1661. The document immediately provoked rancorous debate. Most Catholic clergymen, who necessarily relied on Rome for patronage without a legal, state-sponsored episcopate of the Gallican variety, followed the lead of their backers and refused to sign the document for its judgments regarding papal power.[12] Bishops Anthony MacGeoghegan of Meath and Nicholas French of Ferns pamphleteered vociferous opposition to what they considered religious treason. Peter Walsh, one of the few clergymen who backed the remonstrance, who was also a supporter and confidant of Ormond’s, defended the document in various written works throughout the Restoration period. Formal protests were submitted, and a synod of Catholic clergymen in 1666 meant to resolve the issue only further retrenched animosity.[13] The movement collapsed and no remonstrance was ever submitted to the Crown.[14] Yet the ideological divisions within the Catholic community by no means ended with the defeat of the remonstrance. Not only did the questions it raised dominate clerical discourse for the remainder of the Restoration period, but the internal debate it generated also had concrete implications for the shape and character of the Restoration church. The appointments of the fervently anti-remonstrant Peter Talbot to the Archbishopric of Dublin and Oliver Plunkett to that of Armagh in 1669 fundamentally transformed the politics of Catholic ecclesiastical structures. Encouraged by the death or marginalization of many of the remonstrant clergy, Talbot embarked on a campaign of vindictive persecution against the remainder. They were relieved of official positions and denied material support. He was reported to have proudly proclaimed that the remonstrant clergy “would all hang” and ruthlessly purged them of all offices within the church.[15] Furthermore, the pamphlet debate continued in full fury well into the 1670s and did little to mend fissures in Catholic ecclesiastical ideology. Given these firmly-rooted ethnic, economic, and spiritual divisions, any claims that a common Irish Catholic nation made itself visible in the Restoration would be extremely difficult to substantiate. Yet, do these fissures necessarily mean that no Irish Catholic nation developed at all? Contemporary pamphleteers did not think so. Nicholas French’s The Bleeding Iphigenia was by no means the only tract which referred to the Irish Catholics as a “nation.” In fact, every side of Irish Catholic discourse in the Restoration era over the aforementioned issues of the land settlement and the Remonstrance often addressed “All Irish Catholics,” either described a coherent Irish Catholic nation or called for one, compartmentalized all Catholic experiences into one which fit their theses, and denounced efforts to divide the Irish Catholic polity in a tract which was contributing to just such a phenomenon. Though each version of history, each founding memory, and each sense of what “Irish Catholic” meant was distinct, all tracts contended that their prescribed formula could create this new idea or explain its existence. How is this difference between discourse and practice possible? Perhaps the issue arises from how the modern reader perceives nationhood. Instead of conceptualizing it concretely, as manifested in a coherent body of united individuals with a common ethnicity, culture, or interests, it may be more accurate to conceive of it as Ernest Renan did: as a people unified through common experiences and shared memories.[16] If we conceptualize it as such, it becomes evident that the idea of Irish Catholic nationhood appeared constantly in written work of the time, not as one singular, exclusively-defined identity, but as a fractured concept which agreed on little more than the fact that such an idea existed or should exist. As we have seen, Irish Catholic experiences varied widely in the Restoration era. Yet, discourse often attempted to ignore entrenched complexities in order to impose upon reality a set of homogenous experiences which all Catholics ostensibly suffered together. The reconstruction of history – over the recent war as well as more distant moments – provided the memorial basis for Catholic unity in the discursive realm. In using historical memory as a propaganda tool, each author to be examined asserted that their treatises could bring or explain Catholic unity under their terms, which often sought to justify or persuade the legitimacy of a short-term ambition. * * * The rhetoric of unity regarding the land settlement will be examined first. As Danielle McCormack has noted, the success of Catholic lobbying for restoration in this period was principally predicated upon proving the legitimacy of the 1648 peace, whose indemnity clause would directly contradict the Restoration policy of inordinately limiting the potential of Catholic innocence.[17] To support their positions, Catholic advocates of restoration simplified the 1640s into an era of nationalized, confessional conflict of English Protestant versus Irish Catholic. Yet, though the search for material interests undeniably acted as the principal imperative for this type of language, the effects of its presence took on quite a different form. Pamphleteers employed discourse as a bandage to patch up undeniably present acrimony by framing the past as an era of unity, and thus implied either that unity still existed or could be attained, and affirmed the image of Ireland as a state closely associated with Catholicism. The anonymously written pamphlet Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland from 1668 articulates the obdurate, oppositional position taken by Catholics such as Nicholas French and Oliver Plunkett, espousing a view of history wherein Irish Catholics since 1641 had displayed indefatigable, flawless loyalty, yet nevertheless had been betrayed in the land settlement by Ormond, the king’s ministers, and self-interested, land-grabbing Protestants.[18] This ideological history is intended to lump all Catholic experiences into a single, inflexible memory so as to purge the discourse of the complexities of the social reality and Catholic culpability for wartime atrocities and subsequently affirm the validity of Catholic claims to land. The opening line of the tract states that the author’s intention is to recount, “the sad and deplorable state of the Irish Nation, and the apparent injustice, and inequality used in the present Settlement of that Kingdom.”[19] He substantiates this claim of extant Irish nationhood by claiming the existence of a force which binds them all together: “It cannot be denyed, but that the Roman Catholicks of Ireland have infinitely suffered, during the late Usurped Government.”[20] A few sentences later, he entirely omits the qualifier of Catholicism, believing it instead to be implicit in the statement wherein he simply describes the sufferers as “the Irish alone,” thus conveniently ignoring the significant portion of Irish Catholics (and Protestants) whose experiences differed from those of his vision of a unified Catholic community collectively double-crossed by the settlement, and retrenches the link between Irishness and Catholicism.[21] Having thus postulated the existence of an Irish Catholic nation indivisibly united by the universal experience of dispossession, and casually conflated Irishness with Catholicism in a manner which inextricably and exclusively binds the two identities, the author then recounts a historically revisionist understanding of the past to defy Protestant land claims. As the antithesis to his purportedly unified Catholic body, he conceives of the enemy as one equally monolithic Protestant beast, fueled by greed, vengeance, and unfaltering support of Cromwell, blurring all nuance present in the equally complex reality of Irish Protestantism. He claims that the land settlement was legislated and supervised entirely by Protestants, and transmuted into law by, “a Parliament, which met on the 8th. day of May 1661. The Lower House of this Parliament was all composed of Cromwellists, and but very few of the Irish Peers were admitted to sit in the House of Lords, under the pretence of former Indictments. This Parliament made the first Act of Settlement...This Act decides all the doubtful expressions of the Declaration in favour of the Cromwellists, and to the disadvantage of the Natives, it allows only a Twelve-months time for the tryal of Innocents; But those Irish Gentlemen who served His Majesty abroad, together with the generality of the Nation pretending to Articles, (half a score persons only excepted, who were particularly provided for) are forever debarred by this Act, to recover their Estates without previous Reprisals, which is a thing not to be had in nature.”[22] Several important rhetorical devices are present in this passage. First, the word “Catholic” is never uttered. It is implicit in the word “Irish,” which is placed in direct opposition with a “Cromwellist” interest. The pamphlet, whose object is a searing takedown of former Protestant royalists such as the Earl of Clarendon or the Duke of Ormonde, erases their monarchist credentials by portraying them as greedy post-Cromwellists attempting to deprive loyal Irish Catholics of their land much like the Lord Protector did. Thus “Cromwellist,” in this context, does not necessarily refer to political leanings; rather, it likely denotes any Protestant beneficiaries of the land settlement regardless of their political affiliation during the war. This statement confessionalizes not only nationality, but also political loyalties during the war in an attempt to invalidate Protestant claims under accusations of treason. The essentialist implication that Protestants by nature are inherently inclined towards parliamentarianism is a cogent reduction of the historical narrative meant to promote the author’s vision of the Irish Catholic: resolutely royalist yet deferentially shocked at the loss of their lands to the “enemy.” The author underpins his position with a host of ethical and legal arguments. Morally, he claims that the: “parties pretending are the Irish Proprietors, and the London Adventurers: The first enjoyed it for so many ages...and they lost it at length upon the account of Loyalty, fighting for the Kings Interest against the Murderers of his Royal Father: the last...have no other Title but what they derive from the Ordinance of an usurped Government, for having disbursed vast sums of Money to countenance Rebellion, to pull down Monarchy, and put up a pretended Commonwealth. And yet the Land is adjudged for them, and confirmed to them and their Heirs forever...”[23] Furthermore, Cromwellian settlers, he asserts, are not technically entitled to their land until the 1641 Catholic, “rebels be declared by the two Houses of Parliament to be wholly conquered; until a Commission….[examines] who are the Rebels, and who are Innocents.”[24] Oftentimes, the distinction between logos and ethos are blurred. The author laments that the “Duke of York should now enjoy all that Land, by no other Title but that of the Regicides. The Land was given them by a Tyrant, for murthering the King, let the World judge of the goodness of their Title.”[25] This rather incisive averment insinuates that James’s land claim is illegal precisely because of its immorality; it was acquired through the crime of regicide. Implicit in this statement, of course, lies the contention that all Protestant claims to land are void by virtue of their ostensible parliamentarian and thus regicidal tendencies. Yet, according to the author, Protestants alone controlled the outcome of the settlement and ensured that Catholic capacity for reinstatement was minimal. First, the Catholic gentlemen in exile with the King were never reinstated. Next, the Protestants made it so difficult to “qualifie an Innocent, that it should be Morally impossible to find any such” in Ireland.[26] In a final, devastating act, Parliament in 1664, “decreed, that no benefit of Innocency, or Articles, shall be allowed... to any of the Irish Natives.” [27] The King is absolved of all culpability in this grand Protestant conspiracy, and blame instead is placed on the greedy minister Clarendon and the Earl of Orrery, who, “assured to the King, that there was a sufficient stock of Reprisals to, “satisfy all interests” and thus maintain the loyalist credentials of the Catholics.[28] The Protestants, furthermore, are motivated by lustful material concerns, not love for the king. This passage is worth quoting at length: ...the first Minister of State...telling, as for a final reason, that the Protestant English Interest cannot be maintained in Ireland, without extirpating the Natives…. True Religion was ever yet planted by preaching and good example, not by violence and oppression: An unjust intrusion into the Neighbours Estate, is not the right way to convert the ancient Proprietors...And as to the present Settlement of Ireland, it is apparent to the World, that the Confiscation of Estates, and not the Conversion of Souls, is the only thing aimed at. If by the English Interest we understand the present Possession of the London Adventurers, and of Cromwell's Soldiers, there is no doubt it is inconsistent with the restoration of the Irish, neither can the New English Title to Land be well maintained, without destroying the old Title of the Natives; even as the Interest of the late Commonwealth was incompatible.[29] In this version of history, divisions within the Irish Protestant community are effectively erased. They are replaced instead by an immutable bloc of irreligious, selfish, politically radical colonialists labeled the “English interest” who use the cover of missionary work to ultimately destroy the Catholic Irish--or the natives, as the author would say--for the worldly sake of appropriating their property. The Catholic experience is presented with an equal lack of nuance. Ignoring the existence of legally restored Catholics, the author maintains that Ormond “is gone with all his Greatness, and the miseries of the poor Irish do still continue” and laments the state of “that Nation, who are deprived of the Benefit of Law, Justice, and public Faith,” of course referring to the Catholic nation.[30] Furthermore, this narrative of history does not stop with the Restoration. The author sees the struggle between Irish Catholic royalism and English and Scottish Protestant radicalism as ongoing, and uses the memory of the attempted Presbyterian coup by Colonel Thomas Blood and the English Civil War, as sufficient justification for promoting Catholic interest in Ireland: For that the true Interest of England (as relating to Ireland) consists in raising· the Irish as a Bulwark, or balance, against our English and Scotch Presbyterians….when the Presbyterian practises and Covenant began to disturb these Kingdoms, the Papists and Prelatiques in Ireland (as well as in England) joined their hearts and hands against Presbytery for the King. [31] Thus, in arguing for the overturn of the land settlement, the author of A Narrative constructs his vision of an Irish Catholic nation: a unified, loyal polity, whose history consists of having fought heroically during the war yet being tragically betrayed by the king’s selfish ministers and their Protestant and imaginably Cromwellian or neo-Cromwellian supporters. Though egregiously misrepresenting the actual experience of the war, the nature of the land settlement, and the complex character of confessional identity in Ireland, it serves as adequate foundational history for his equally distorted vision of a unified Catholic nation. His conflation of “Irish” and “Catholic” further embeds the image of the entity of “Ireland” as fundamentally Catholic, and ignores the serious ethnic, social, and theological distinctions of the population. This position, however, was met with backlash from other members of the Old English community. Archbishop of Dublin and celebrated anti-remonstrant Peter Talbot’s 1674 Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects is an essential piece to examine, not only because its message differs vastly from that of A Narrative, but also because its purpose is slightly different and adds a complex element to the debate.[32] This text was not written with the purpose of obtaining anything material, and grounds its arguments in theological rather than political justification. Just like the author of A Narrative, Talbot uses the concept of Catholic unity, justified by the common experience of 1641, to accomplish a distinct goal: to end what he sees as immoral and heretical practices. Talbot follows the lead of the author of A Narrative and addresses the pamphlet to all of the “Roman-Catholics of Ireland,” thus implying that he believes Catholic unity exists, and sets out to prove it on his terms.[33] His main area of concern is the ostensible Irish Catholic obsession with property, decidedly sinful in his eyes. He affirms, “that the Happiness of Man in this present state consists more in possessing the riches of a good Conscience than the conveniences of this world.”[11] Yet he recognizes that, “Tis the depraved condition of human nature which makes us affectionately covet...such paltry trash.”[34] The “paltry trash” referred to is property confiscated by the land settlement, and his treatment of the incident manages to be wholly out of touch with both the new interest Catholics and the dispossessed faction. Again, what is an Inheritance? A parcel of land whereof our Ancestors were Masters as long as they liu'd; which term of Life (the only interest any of them could pretend to) is valued but at seven years purchase: Is it reasonable then think you, to fix your hearts so…passionately upon that earth, as if your Souls were to turn into it as well as your Bodies? Poor Souls! After a mans death hee has no expectation of any good for his Temporal Estate, being quite out of all circumstances of enjoying the least convenience from it.[35] Talbot here makes the oft-vaunted religious claim that acquisitive interests are inherently sinful. Such a belief carries additional weight in the phrenetic context of the Restoration era and the politics surrounding the land settlement. His call for salvation to, “be your comfort, not that empty one of possessing estates already disposed” was an unequivocally bold statement, because the tract aims to unite Irish Catholics on its terms.[36] As we have seen, the land settlement polarized Irish Catholics along lines of the repossessed and the dispossessed. Talbot’s argument essentially claims both sides to be reprehensible. Talbot spends several lengthy paragraphs asserting that, “Disobedience to our King necessarily implies disobeying God,” and denounces rebellion, “against His Majesty’s Government, Person, or Subjects,” as religiously and politically unforgivable.[37] He then supplements his contention with a more political rationalization for the deleterious essence of material concerns: they lead to rebellion. He asks, “how can it be imagined that [God] will allow of so great a crime as rebellion upon any score….much less upon that meer Temporal motive of saying or regaining an Estate?”[38] Challenging the land settlement, if not explicitly an act of revolt, can easily lead to one. Thus, “Let not the vain hopes of better Times, or the desire of passing a short Moment something more commodiously plunge you into the intolerable miseries of Hellfire for all Eternity... You have lost your real Estates, let not Imaginary ones fool you...”[39] His principle over which Catholics could find unity is one of collective responsibility: either to stop pressing for restoration, or to ensure that their Catholic brethren lay down their claims. And the shared experience which provides the imperative for such collective responsibility? The war. Talbot’s idealized understanding of 1641 stands in direct opposition to the view espoused by the author of A Narrative, who argues that, “ The Irish insurrection...hath not been accompanied with that Insolence and Malice in the beginning...which...some Pamphlets have charged the Irish with.”[40] His view is more in agreement with the Protestant narrative which emphasizes Catholic atrocities and greed instead of monarchical loyalty. He writes: You have had experience of...Preachers who pretend great zeal to God and the King’s service, and yet, at the same time Rebellion, and Murders were proou'd against them. These are the men you must not give ear to, nor converse with, lest you be infected with their Doctrine and perverted by their Example….And yet if either these, or I, or an Angel from Heaven should go about to persuade you that it is lawful to molest your Protestant neighbors, or defraud them of their goods, or enter upon their possessions by any means or method which the Law of the Land doth not allow, give them no credit...[41] This theologically-underpinned incarnation of Catholic unity is derived from a necessity of repentance. Like that of the author of A Narrative, Talbot’s vision of a united Catholic Ireland is prescriptive rather than descriptive; a means to an end rather than a factually accurate statement. Old English discourse over the land settlement, then, engendered several iterations of an Irish Catholic identity, none of which were reconcilable with each other nor with reality. Yet there are striking methodological parallels: both tracts assume the existence of a united Catholic Ireland as a critical element of their rhetorical strategy. Such a rhetorical strategy was a conscious choice and the considerations that went into it should not be taken lightly. One may assume that claims of unity would be the most effective way to convince others of their point; unity was evidently an ideal that appealed to much of the literate Old English community. A Gaelic perspective on the land settlement and memory of the Cromwellian wars is essential to any comprehensive assessment of the extent to which Catholic Irish identity formed in this period. The relative paucity of surviving Gaelic sources for everyday native Irishmen renders any evaluation of their contribution to Catholic discursive identity problematic. Yet one does remain which can offer insight into the way the Gaels constructed their version of Ireland: Gaelic poetry. Historical memory in Gaelic poetry was a familiar concept by the time of the Restoration. For centuries, Irish poets evoked the names of legendary heroes, battles, and kings to draw a firm line connecting their patrons to extant days of Irish glory.[42] During the Restoration period, however, a salient change took place. Gaelic poets began to treat the Irish heroic past as more self-consciously legendary, and presented it in stark contrast with recent memories of English conquest. Every element of English culture, society, and politics was acrimoniously criticized with relentless vigor and poetic wit. As such, Dáibhí Ó Bruadair, the most renowned poet of the era, claims in his poem “Thou Sage of Inanity” that the English historical pedigree pales in comparison to that of the Irish.[43] He derides a defender of Ormond who claims, “That his father or himself or any offspring of that race E'er performed such deeds as those,” performed by the Irish, as having, “been hoaxed by thy conceit.”[44] Shameful, cowardly Englishness is placed in direct dialogue with powerful, resplendent Irishness. This theme is expanded into the cultural realm and the traditionally English conception of civil and moral superiority is shrewdly reversed. The Restoration-era poems of Ó Bruadair depict a cultured, refined Gaelic Ireland ruined by boorish English brutes representing Cromwellian plantation and the Restoration settlement. Ó Bruadair laments this tragic state, writing in his 1674 poem “Woe Unto Him Who Hath Failed”: Every prayerful, faultless, noble, charming chieftain of the flock, Scattered through the land of Fionntan, growing with no lowly growth, Who hath been compelled to part with state and wealth and native nook...”[45] These “Noble-born, cultured, and high-minded chieftains” have been replaced by “ignorant dullards” and “ostentatious upstart[s] swollen high with pompous pride” whose pastimes include “plundering maids, single, defenceless, in delicate health.”[46] The title of the poem from which the last excerpt is taken, “Proud as a Chief is the Bailiff,” embodies the contempt with which the Gaelic poets treated the English upstarts who believed that they represented the rightful, moral and political governing class of Ireland. As Joseph Leerssen has noted, the English language was often used as a signifier in Gaelic-language texts for Saxon incivility. Restoration-era poems often contained Gaelicized loanwords from English--such as “clóca” or cloak, “cóta” or coat, sbuir or spurs, buat or boot, sdocaidhe, or stockings, locaidhe, or curls, ráipéar, or rapier, and sgarfa, or scarf, which were deliberately employed to disrupt the rhythm and rhyme scheme of the poem; these intentionally painful interruptions easily communicated to the reader or listener the invasionary nature of the English settlers.[47] Ó Bruadair explicitly treats with the contamination of the Irish language in his 1675 “I Shall Put a Cluáin On Thee,” where he writes, “Now the Béarla Teibidhe is the language which Ó Lonargáin used to talk...on account of the excessively silly bombast of the poets in Freamhain.'' Béarla Teidbidhe, the dialect of Irish which more liberally utilized loanwords from other languages, functions as a literary device signifying the degradation and decline of the Irish language by “silly bombast.”[48] From a confessional perspective, theologian Francis O’Molloy printed a comprehensive overview of the Irish language in 1677, which contained a lengthy tract lamenting the seemingly concurrent decline of the Gaelic nobility and language, writing: Pity the people for want of literacy after the destruction of their letters...Ireland has fallen under the shower against the host of its ancestors. The music of tunes has not remained, nor proper instruction, nor learning. The Irish do not even understand the Irish language, they speak it carelessly, they do not read it with any propriety; they abandon it, and leave honour behind….If you ask them to read verses in their own sweet mother tongue...they cannot. This is what happened to the Irish from Ireland.[49] The use of language as a symbol for not only cultural, but also national distinctions, is essential to note here for two reasons. First, it places the bardic poet, master of the Irish language, at the center of Gaelic national identity. Gaelic poetry in this time was something of a moribund cultural relic, existing in a world that had long considered it a vestigial curiosity. Indeed, Ó Bruadair died hopelessly impoverished, and much of his later poetry focuses on this destitution.[50] Ascribing language a primary role in the formation of Irish identity assigns the poet a relevance which he had most certainly lost. Second, by linking language and idealized history, Gaelic poets implicitly grounded Irish national identity in both ancient and recent historical memory: the glorious past, the apex of Irish linguistic hegemony and its cultural byproducts; and the depressing present, wherein language is under threat of extinction thanks to an influx of English colonialists bent on aggressive acculturation of the Gaels. Such perceptions of English savagery are reflected in Gaelic poetic treatments of social class. Gradually, the English of all classes replaced the lower classes of all ethnicities as the paradigm of boorishness and stupidity. Prior to the Restoration period, foreigners were categorized with poorer Gaels in criticisms of the uncultured and barbaric enemies of refined Gaelic Ireland. It was a classist—as opposed to a nationalist—distinction. Yet, Restoration poetry increasingly defined the brutes as distinctly English “boors” whose humble patrimony did not warrant their wealth and status, and whose rough, bumbling language and contemptible manners stood in stark opposition to those of the refined, well-spoken Gaels.[52] This conflation of ancient and recent memory also featured heavily in political rhetoric surrounding Gaelic perspectives of James II and their high expectations for his rule. Leerssen affirms that Gaelic poets rejoiced upon James II’s accession, due to his heritage and Catholic faith; thus, poems from the period were tinged with an arrogant optimism. Diarmaid Mac Carthaigh, for example, writes, “Behold there the Gaedhil in arms...they have powder and guns, hold the cities and fortresses; the Presbyterians, lo, have been overthrown, and the Fanatics have left an infernal smell after them,” thus drawing on a recent memory of conquest. Several lines later, he remarks, “Prophets and saints in great numbers have prophesied that Erinn would sure get help at the promised time; by Thy wonderful power, O Christ, and thy nurse’s prayer, everything they predicted shall certainly come to pass.”[53] James II’s accession was lauded in both recent and ancient terms; it was an event foretold by ancient Irish history to relieve the Gaels of their more recent suffering.[54] By contextualizing the often disconnected quilt of Gaelic history within a framework grounded in fresh experiences of collective trauma sustained by a vaguely-defined group of people in “Erinn” devoid of very present internal distinctions, these Gaelic poets implicitly “nationalized” a confederated Ireland in opposition to “Fanatics”; Protestants. This concept of unity is underpinned by the trajectory of the word “Éire,” which underwent linguistic signification during the Restoration period from a term denoting specific dynastic regions to one which conveyed the entire island.[55] Furthermore, the Irish side of the dichotomy between English and Irish is not necessarily exclusive to the Gaels. In fact, it lended Gaelic history a quasi-democratic character; in defining Irishness as a set of cultural and linguistic practices in opposition to Englishness, anybody who agreed with this contemporary critical assessment of Englishness and indulged in or sympathised with Gaelic customs could subscribe to the ancient legacy of old Gaeldom. Whether this happened or not is not relevant; what matters is that this poetry laid the basis for Irish Catholic national identity. Like Old English discourse, its artificial construction of a Catholic Irish memory had serious implications for Irish nationalism; Joseph Leerssen notes that the rise of Irish nationalism in the eighteenth century was characterized by a fascination with and appropriation of Gaelic culture which crossed confessional boundaries, emphasizing the importance of a language, culture, and history in direct opposition with that of the English.[56] Yet there is one important caveat: Gaelic discourse surrounding the land settlement did not explicitly address unity transcending ethnic boundaries as much as it laid out the historical and cultural groundwork for an ostensible common experience. Gaelic writers erased dynastic distinctions, spoke of common experience, and denigrated English language, manners, and history while touting their Gaelic counterparts, thus permitting unity. It was not clear from this literature who could participate in this unity and how qualified it would be. This will be discussed in the next section, focusing on Gaelic religious discussions. * * * As has been shown, the Irish Catholic clergy—and much of the laity—were irreconcilably factionalized throughout the Restoration period, with the initial split precipitated by the proposed 1661 remonstrance which would have subordinated the pope’s jurisdiction to the king’s. Internal acts of vindictiveness by squabbling Catholics in positions of authority, combined with Ormond’s deliberate rehashing of the issue in order to weaken Catholic political activity, served to isolate his Catholic allies from enemies based on who subscribed to the remonstrance, and allowed him to persecute the identified foes, ensuring that Catholics could not even appeal to their common religious beliefs for unity well after the remonstrance failed.[57] But, as with the land settlement, polemicists attempted to surmount these obstacles through discourse by either denying the reality of conflict, or attempting to impose unity artificially through their tract. And once again, as with the land settlement, the context of the topic to be dealt with dictated the experiences used to found this unity. The land settlement was a direct result of recent conflict; thus, memories of the 1640’s were evoked and framed so as to suit the agenda proffered. The remonstrance debate took place within the context of centuries of constantly evolving Catholic theology. Accordingly, the time frame for memories evoked was significantly enlarged. Father Peter Walsh’s mammoth-sized 1673 tract History and Vindication of the Loyal Formulary, or Irish Remonstrance is the first text to be examined.[58] Walsh, a Franciscan monk, was one of the earliest defenders of the remonstrance when the conflicts first began in the 1660s; he notably convinced Ormond to let the clergy summon a synod to ratify it. Walsh’s advocacy of unity is more subtle than that of some other tracts analyzed in this essay. Its implicit, rather than explicit, nature likely derives from the nature of the work. It is intended to defend a coherent set of principles and the man who constructed it from accusations of treachery rather than accomplishing anything concrete through mass support. Remonstrant Catholicism was a significant theo-political departure from orthodox Irish Catholicism, and should be treated as a micro-identity within a larger Catholic body with its own ideological history to ground it. In this case, instead of attempting to forge an Irish Catholic identity out of the shards left behind by its bitter internal conflicts, this tract attempts to construct a wholly new paradigm parallel to the defunct alternatives. As such, unity is implicit insofar as the memories evoked attempt to justify subscription to a piece of reformatory legislation so large it can more or less be considered a separate sect of Catholicism. In short, this tract is purely ideological; unity was the express goal. It does frame the remonstrance as an end to dissolve the penal laws, but that is not the priority. The end of the penal laws is another justification for the benefits of the remonstrance. So how was a “Remonstrantist” identity fashioned? Walsh envisioned the remonstrance model as an acceptable, patriotic manifestation of Catholicism in an increasingly hostile Stuart state which would affirm monarchical loyalty while simultaneously foregoing certain unsavory papal principles in the process. Due to the increased crackdown on Catholicism in the early 1670s, “the old and fatal Controversy” was rehashed in public debate and called into question the loyalty of all Catholics.[59] Walsh explained his remonstrance as, “ a conscientious, Christian...and satisfactory profession of the duty which by all Laws... they...owe His Majesty against all pretences of the Pope to the contrary.”[60] Walsh does not blissfully ignore the existence of deep divisions which may prevent adherence to his vision; instead, he embraces them, writing that soon after the drafting of the Remonstrance it was, “impugned by sundry Ecclesiastics of the Roman Communion and chiefly by many of those Irish who had received most benefit by it.”[61] The reason behind this open admission of failure is twofold. One, it is easier to deny Catholic divisions when there is no public referendum on the issue by which one can concretely gauge the extent of conflict. The synod provided such a referendum and thus its failure was historically impossible to deny. The second reason is that this embarrassment substantiates one of his key arguments: the steady degradation and increasing corruption of Rome over the last several hundred years. Crafting the narrative of his history as a constant, descending slope from Pope Gregory VII to the present, Walsh paints a picture of a corrupt, tyrannical institution which generates political instability by presenting itself as a parallel power structure to secular hierarchies. He claims that over the past six hundred years, Rome has been operating under a set of principles which, “many Thousands of the most Learned, Zealous; Illegible word Godly Illegible word, Priests, and Doctors, as well as [the laity], who never approved... but always reproved, condemned, abhorred, detested; and protested against them both, as not only heretical, but tyrannical.[62] Chief amongst these he names the unchecked, absolute power of the papacy. He enumerates specific examples of malevolent papal authority intended to evoke contemporary politics in such a way as to galvanize support for his ecclesiastical program against Rome which may eliminate differences between Irish subjects. He writes: That by divine right...the Bishop of Rome is Universal Monarch and Governor of the World, even with.... spiritual and temporal authority over all Churches, Nations, Empires, Kingdoms, States, Principalities; and over all persons, Emperors, Kings, Princes... and People...and in all things and causes whatsoever, as well Temporal and Civil, as Ecclesiastical or Spiritual….That He is empowered with lawful Authority, not only to Excommunicate, but to deprive, depose, and dethrone (both sententially and effectually) all Princes, Kings, and Emperors; to translate their Royal Rights, and dispose of their Kingdoms to others, when and how He shall think fit…. That whoever kills any Prince deposed or excommunicated by Him, or by others deriving power from Him, kills not a lawful Prince, but an usurping Tyrant; a Tyrant at least by Title, if not by Administration too: and therefore cannot be said to murther the Anointed of God, or even to kill his own Prince.[63] Tyranny, usurpation, and regicide were all terms typically lobbed at the Cromwellian regime in Catholic discourse. By framing these crimes as inherent to the Catholic Church, and not to the inevitable outcome of radical Protestantism, Walsh accomplishes several discursive feats. One, he sets familiar terms of objective abjectness within a new context and places the blame on a supposedly friendly institution, therefore forcing Catholics to make a choice between loyalty to their beliefs and loyalty to Rome. Two, he implies that his prescription is the only feasible path for Catholics who wish to remain loyal, and thus forces a second introspective confrontation regarding royal or papal allegiance. Three, he maintains that said tendencies are inherent not in the religion but in the institution, implying that following his example will not change liturgy or customs but will simply purge ecclesiastical structures of institutionalized corruption. Four, he constructs a narrative that renders a, “System of Doctrines and Practises... contrary to those...manifestly recommended in the...Gospel of Christ... in the belief and life of the Christian Church universally for the first Ten Ages thereof,” entirely culpable for the, “misfortunes and miseries whatsoever of the Roman-Catholics in England, Ireland, Scotland.”[64] Thus, in Walsh’s world of untenable Church institutions which act as the source of all present Catholic suffering, the only viable way forward lies in subscribing to remonstrance principles. These “misfortunes and miseries” are embodied in the penal laws. Following his affirmation of Rome as the cause of all Catholic tribulation, he expands upon the statutes as a shared traumatic experience to encourage unity over the remonstrance. He affirms that: All Roman-Catholics... without any distinction of Sex, or Age...from the most illustrious Peer, to the most obscure Plebeian...lie under all the rigorous Sanctions, and all the severe Penalties of so many incapacitating... Laws...And your Predecessors, before you, have well nigh a whole Century of years been continually under the smart or apprehension of the severity of them.[65] Such an evaluation of the present state was not entirely true. Irish Catholics often circumvented the penal laws which were rarely enforced during the Restoration period. Yet it is important to remember that this tract was published in 1674, and likely written two years before, at which time the indulgence controversy in England had ushered in a period of harsher persecution and a crackdown on Irish Catholics.[66] Using the aberrational reality of the contemporary political climate, Walsh seizes the opportunity to affirm that such experiences were the normative standard. Yet instead of using shared experiences of oppression to galvanize resistance to the crown, he contextualizes them within his own narrative of uniquely Catholic culpability. Thus, he contends that only Catholics can change their own situation, making subscription to the remonstrance an absolute necessity for any Catholic who wished to ameliorate their present struggles. Within this discourse, that would be all of them. One final point that is necessary to fully illustrate Walsh’s utilisation of memory to craft a remonstrant identity is his claim that the blame for the seemingly never ending cycle of Irish rebellion can be entirely attributed to the pope’s corrosive influence. This counters the oft-articulated English and Protestant claim that the Irish, or Catholicism, for that matter, are inherently rebellious, and supplements his assertion that loyalty to the crown was not only of paramount importance for Irish Catholics, but is also possible under the proper ecclesiastical leadership. Here, Walsh describes a Catholic Ireland forced into repeated rebellion against the Crown by malevolent Roman overlords. And Pope Pius V, His Declaratory Sentence...against Queen Elizabeth. And the Bull or Breve of Gregory XIII...granting to all the Irish that would join and fight in the Rebellion of the FitzGeralds of Desmond against Queen Elizabeth, even the same plenary pardon and remission of all their sins, which is granted to those engaged in a Holy War against the Turk...And that other of Clement VIII...of the like tenor and direction to the Irish Nation in general, animating them to join unanimously in Tyrone's Rebellion against the self-same heretical Queen... And lastly...that Bull or Breve of Plenary Indulgence...given yet more lately to all the Roman-Catholics of Ireland, who had join'd in the Rebellion there begun in the year 1641...witness in the second place all the no less unchristian, than unhappy effects of these very Bulls, Breves, Judgments and Indulgences.[67] Significantly, Walsh fails to add that many Catholics in all conflicts listed refused to rebel, and thus makes this history, just like his other narratives, available to all Catholics. It also skirts around the complicated question of Catholic culpability and the extent to which they acted illegally in the 1640s by affirming that Rome was the reason for any malicious action. Thus, Walsh’s defense of the remonstrance should really be considered a formulation of a specific brand of Catholic identity, just like those of the other authors. He draws on a range of memories, constructing various histories intending to support his argument, and connects these histories to contemporary politics in such a way as to provide a direct catalyst for unification. Catholic nationhood is rarely mentioned explicitly; it functions in this tract not as a means to an end but instead as the ultimate objective. The end goal is a new brand of Catholicism, loyal to the king over Rome, freed from the shackles of forced insurrection, and instead fully integrated, and presumably welcomed, into the Stuart political nation. Yet not everyone approved of such a radical restructuring of Catholic theo-political doctrine. Peter Talbot, Archbishop of Dublin and self-appointed nightmare of remonstrants, produced a pamphlet the following year in 1674 titled The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh: His New Remonstrant Religion. It thoroughly excoriates Walsh and his perceived treason, spends an undue amount of time examining laws regarding public whipping and the extent to which they apply to Walsh.[68] Even when he is not indulging his fantasies of subjecting Walsh to corporal punishment, the rage in Talbot’s writing is still palpable. He accuses him, perhaps correctly, of intending to found a “new religion” and becoming, perhaps incorrectly, the “Pope of this new Remonstrant Church.”[69] He labels him a traitor, and maintains that by accusing, “all Bishops, and by consequence the Representative Roman Catholic Church, or...its supreme Pastor together with all the other Bishops of the said Communion, of holding and swearing the lawfulness of Treason,” he has become the “greatest Rebel...of the Irish nation.”[70] It is significant, of course, that the Irish nation means Catholicism, and we shall see that in this tract, as in his The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects, Talbot constantly portrays Ireland as a categorically Catholic nation. This conflation of Ireland with Catholicism is intended to explain the reason why Walsh’s church failed in Ireland. Just as Walsh attempted to create a distinct, remonstrant Irish Catholic identity, so too does Talbot attempt to claim the existence of an opposing number which interprets history and shared Catholic experiences differently. The bulk of Talbot’s evidence for Walsh’s treachery lies in his accusations that Walsh’s remonstrance articulates nothing more than Anglican Protestantism. He argues that the remonstrance affirms that the, “King is the only supreme Governor of England, and of all other his Dominions, as well in all Spiritual or Ecclesiastical things or causes, as temporal,” religious authority is duly denied to the pope, and thus the King is given, “all the spiritual power and authority in his own Dominions.”[71] He draws an immediate parallel with Protestantism, noting how, If you will read the Statutes 1. Eliz. 1. & 8. Eliz 1. You will find that the Kings of England’s supremacy, is so spiritual and sublime, that there needs no changing the signification of the word spiritual into temporal, and that a King of England (if he should think fit) may, according to the principles of the Protestant religion, established by the lawes of the land, giue power by letters patents, to any of his lay subjects to consecrate Bishops and Priests… [72] Thus, in practice, Walsh is, “the greatest Traitor and Rebel that breathes,” to the Catholic faith, stemming from his attempt to create a separate Protestant Church to make himself its pope rather than out of a genuine reforming impulse.[73] However, Talbot does not limit the scope of his argument to legal queries over the separation of temporal and ecclesiastical power. He uses the notion of collective memory and a constructed Catholic identity to prove that Walsh is truly operating contrary to the interests of all Irish Catholics. His selection is a curious one: the martyrdom of Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury who was murdered on King Henry II’s (unintentional) orders in 1170. The reasons for this choice are twofold. First, Talbot needs to formulate a narrative honoring Rome for the same period of time that Walsh did to provide a viable opposition model. Thus, he claims, “it’s much better….to justify…. doctrine of...the whole Roman Catholic Church, ever since S. Thomas his Martyrdom, then the fancies of a dull ignorant Friar.”[74] Walsh, however, objects against it the Martyrdom and Miracles of S. Thomas of Canterbury; it being evident out of all Histories, both sacred and profane; that S. Thomas suffered, was canonised and declared a Martyr, for defending the immunities of the Church, and particularly that of Churchmen from the coercive supreme power of secular Courts.[75] Becket’s murder is the founding moment for Irish Catholics because of its contemporary relevance; he died defending the ecclesiastical court’s integrity and independence from a crown increasingly attempting to encroach on spiritual authority. Yet there is something else implicit in such a choice, something far more salient. By claiming that Walsh, who has become a Protestant, has succeeded in bastardizing the memory of saint Thomas Becket, Talbot further retrenches the Irish Catholic and English Protestant worldview. Though Henry II was a Catholic, he was the English king who conquered Ireland, and as we have seen, Talbot’s criteria for Protestantism is predicated on how one perceives the divisions (or lack thereof) between temporal and spiritual power as vested in the monarch. Thus, Talbot ahistorically assigns to Henry the faith of Protestantism to define the Irish Catholics in opposition to the English monarch who, like those of the Restoration, desired for himself ecclesiastical supremacy. Having described a common experience to unite all Catholics, Talbot thus claims that a pan-Catholic identity already exists, with a rich history of papal loyalty and devoted to the separation of secular and ecclesiastical authority dating back to the martyrdom of Becket. He again claims that as Walsh believes, “that the oath of supremacy may be taken with a good conscience by Roman Catholics,” the entire, “Roman Catholic Church belives, and tells vs the contrary,” thus Walsh has, “no reason to be angry with Catholics, if they do not rely upon [his] word in any point that concerns their conscience or religion.”[76] By describing Walsh as a Protestant, Talbot attempts to unite all Catholics against him and avoid afracturing Catholic unity; Walsh is no Catholic. Yet unlike Walsh, Talbot is not attempting to create unity. He is attempting, like the author of A Narrative or himself in The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects, to justify its existence. As such, he isolates Peter Walsh as a lone figure in a defunct movement attempting to combat centuries of Catholicism. By what authority, he asks, may Catholics subscribe to the Remonstrance? None but your own authority; nothing but your saying, that the Roman Catholic Church hath err'd rashly and obstinately for these 600. last years, because it admitted not a Spiritual Supremacy in temporal Soueueraigns. Really Mr. Walsh, I do not believe your sole authority is a sufficient argument to prove the Church hath erred. To proue so rash an assertion you would fain make us mistrust the testimonies of holy and learned Authors of the Church History, as Baronius, Bellarmin, and others…[77] Talbot invokes the concept of nationhood to counteract Walsh’s ability to create a separatist Church. He even explicitly refers to it; he asks whether Walsh would “disgrace [his] own nation” by “promoting protestancy... and dividing...Catholics by his Remonstrance.”[78] Thus his crime extends beyond religious heresy into the secular sort; it also consists of attempting to divide his version of the Catholic nation. This division is a conditional one, however, in the subjunctive tense. It does not exist, of course; it is only the foolish attempt of a deranged traitor. Yet it is not enough to deny Walsh the privilege of support. To claim a united nation in opposition to Walsh, Talbot needs to deny his blatant persecutions of remonstrants. As we have seen, Talbot, in his position as Archbishop of Dublin, gleefully tormented the few remonstrant clergy remaining in his diocese. Yet he instead baldly lies about it: “I neuer persecuted, him nor any of his...Friars Remonstrants, in whose behalf he petitioned.”[79] Talbot, then, uses memory to controvert and invalidate Walsh’s construction of identity and instead articulates an iteration of Catholic identity that he claims as not only a viable alternative, but perhaps more importantly, already the reality. *** How did the Gaels perceive the remonstrance? Clues can be discerned from poetry. As we examined in the last section, the land settlement produced a wealth of tracts chronicling a collective set of experiences for all of Ireland; yet the question of who is included is left rather ambiguous. That question will be answered in this section. In his 1670 poem “O God of the Universe,” Ó Bruadair laments, Dark is the light of the sun and the heavenly elements, And rent is the covering surface of earth's grassy countenance, I deem it no wonder that they should then wholly extinguished be, Seeing that clerics transgressing their oaths into treason fall.[80] The decidedly critical outlook of the remonstrants – or rather, “The corrupt and un-Irish conceits of this renegade forger-clique” – finds a scapegoat in Peter Walsh.[81] In his 1670 tract “‘Tis Sad for Erin’s Fenialí Bands,” Ó Bruadair condemns Walsh as “guilty of the wounds inflicted on the land of Fál, Whicli lies to-day beneath his hand all powerless to act or stir.”[82] Yet such criticisms raise important questions. If the remonstrant clergy and Walsh are traitors, who are they betraying? The Catholic religion, or Ireland itself? Either way, the implications are massive. If Walsh is betraying Catholicism, then Ó Bruadair is claiming the existence of another vision of Irish Catholicism more in line with Talbot’s thinking. If the answer is Ireland, then by consequence all Catholics must be counted as Irish. In examining Ó Bruadair’s treatment of Catholicism as it relates to his already-discussed perception of a Gaelic Ireland, a mostly coherent, yet at times contradictory, vision of who Ó Bruadair considers Irish emerges. His 1680 work “Those Who Once Knewest The Law” sheds some light on these queries. The poem is written in response to the news that one Master Verling, a lower Gaelic nobleman, converted to Protestantism for admittance to Trinity College, Dublin.[83] The poet writes: Those who once knewest the law of the flock that cleaved closest to Christ, And who therefore have let themselves be by the cruellest slavery oppressed, Reflect in thy mind on thyself and observe how accursed the deed To yield to the heart's base desires and sell heaven for a short spell of life.[84] Verling’s treachery is not to Gaeldom but to Catholicism as a whole, and the oppressed peoples mentioned are all Catholics, not just ones of a certain ethnic persuasion. These few short lines reveal a startling conclusion: what Joseph Leerssen mistakenly considers an exclusive, Gaelic identity developing in the Restoration period should really be understood as an Irish Catholic identity.[85] Yet still, this issue is complicated by the fact that the culture and history of Ireland Ó Bruadair espouses is very much a Gaelic one. It is thus necessary to examine his perception of Old English eligibility for this collective memory. Paradoxically, in his rather exclusionary language which separate Gauls from Gaels, he lumps Catholics of all persuasions into a de-ethnicized confessional identity. As reverend Mac Erlean notes, Gauls is a complicated term. It may designate Gauls, Vikings, Normans, or English. Until the seventeenth century, Gauls were characterized and distinguished by different physically descriptive terms such as “fair,” or “bright.” Yet, as the social upheaval of the seventeenth century introduced various new settlers into Ireland, words such as “old” or “new” began to be used, and physical descriptions such as “fair” or “black” became transmuted so as to solely convey moral judgements.[86] Thus “Gall” by Ó Bruadair’s time was a decidedly ambiguous term. As such, we find various pieces praising them, even though they are not Gaels: Many daring soldiers, many swords and volumes, Many masts and currachs, Did that fleet's crew bring across the sea from Britain, Everlasting radiance. The diploma of these Galls is Christ's religion And their prince's patent, The prescription of five hundred years' possession. 'Tis no living falsehood.[87] Thus, the Anglo-Irish conquerors of the twelfth century are distinguished from the Cromwellians of the 1640’s because of their religion. Though their religion does not make them “Gaels,” it does establish a bond with them, symbolized in this particular poem by the marriage between the “Choicest wheat of Erin's Gaels and Galls.”[88] Catholic Gauls are included in the land of Erin, and as we have seen in the previous section, are also included in the land’s Gaelic past which was founded for this united island. The most important Gaelic-language work in forging a discursive Catholic union between Gaels and Gauls is Ó Bruadair’s poem “Love of Sages,” written in praise of John Keating, the Old English Chief Justice of Ireland who acquitted the Gaelic noblemen accused of complicity in the supposed 1682 “Popish Plot.”[89] In the poem, Ó Bruadair identifies two types of Galls. One includes the, Royal champions for the king’s cause murdered Made these sons of malediction proud; Soon the frauds of sullen, hateful scoundrels Flourished fierce without a spark of shame.[90] This classification refers to the Protestant English officials who poisoned the king’s ear with fantasies of Catholic rebellion. The other group – or as Ó Bruadair writes, it, “Galls like these” – including Keating, “shield of our protection/Against the wicked tramp’s perfidious snares.”[91] This second category comprises the Catholic Galls of Ireland, or the Anglo-Normans, to whom the Gaels “owe allegiance.”[92] To further complicate this conception, Ó Bruadair makes several bold statements in his praise of Keating which seem to contradict the notion that these Gauls are even foreigners. First, he lauds the “the chivalrous blood of that generous true Irish Gall,” a seemingly blatant linguistic paradox.[93] Several lines later, he similarly praises him for bringing “comfort to your oppressed Countrymen.”[94] Thus, the distinction between Gael and Gall persists, yet the Galls seem to count as Irish. How so? Catholicism, of course, unites them. The Irish nation conceived by Ó Bruadair and the other Gaelic poets reviewed in the Restoration period is one not of Gaels, as Joseph Leerssen maintains, but of Catholics. As we have seen, Gaelic language, culture, and history were touted with characteristic fervor in these thirty volatile years. Yet these were defined not in opposition to the Old English, but to the English Protestant invaders. The memories that were drawn upon were indeed Gaelic, yet they were memories to which all Catholics could subscribe; thus his praising of Keating for appreciating the Gaels for who they were.[95] In uniting them in the present as one Catholic force, Ó Bruadair further implies that they also should subscribe to this history, as all of Ireland increasingly became united as one single geographic, religious entity. Thus, just as the Old English pamphleteers attempted to resolve economic and ecclesiastical animosities by professing some sort of unified Irish Catholic identity (implicitly surmounting ethnic differences), the Gaelic poets, in their quest to comprehend the transformed society around them, smoothed over ethnic differences and the complexities of recent experience to articulate a coherent version of Ireland. This Ireland which was Gaelic in culture, language, and history, was now also available to Catholic Gauls as a result of supposedly shared recent experiences. Like those of the Old English writers, such affirmations had little grounding in reality. Yet their existence is vital to understanding how Irish nationalism, in the eighteenth century, took place within a context of “cultural-political osmosis” wherein even the English-speaking, Protestant population adhered to this vision of Ireland in direct opposition to England. In conclusion, an Irish Catholic nation did form in the Restoration period, insofar as it appeared in discourse as an appealing alternative to confusing and oftentimes depressing social realities. It transcended ethnic, economic, and theological bounds, yet never appeared in the same form more than once. Irish Catholic identity can only really be described as a rhetorical chameleon, used constantly – in many more works than just the above discussed – yet changing to adapt to the circumstances of the propaganda. Gaelic poetry and the remonstrance discourse, more or less devoid of ulterior motives other than asserting the continued role of the poet in society and formulating a remonstrant versus anti-remonstrant identity, respectively, came the closest to articulating a clear, ideologically-founded Catholic nation. Yet all of the tracts examined, and several more which I have not had the space to assess here, have one common theme: the discourse is massively disconnected from reality. Any development of Irish Catholic identity in this period was purely rhetorical and was not reflected by any actual events. This is not to say these tracts have no importance in posterity. They certainly do. Nationhood as defined by the parameters set out in this particular essay, is inherently both rhetorical and practical; it must originate in articulations of experience and a call for unity before this actually happens. Rhetorical unity is necessarily anticipatory of actual nationhood; Restoration articulations of nationhood may be considered, with the benefit of historical hindsight, to have anticipated what Tom Garvin deems, “Irish separatist nationalism as a popular political creed,” that originated in the eighteenth century.[96] The seventeenth century provided the rhetorical framework and memorial precedent; the eighteenth century, with its mass persecutions of all Catholics and economic and political imperialization of Ireland, provided the immediate impetus to subscribe to the memory.[97] We should be careful not to rely too heavily on hindsight, however, and should focus equally on the immediate impact of the discourse within the context of the Restoration era. The literature of the 1660s, 70s, and 80s had the immediate effect of enforcing the image of Ireland as a Catholic nation, and in describing Ireland in opposition to English Protestantism, it became an inherently, if unwittingly, subversive entity. This discourse also offers one more important revelation, alluded to earlier in this essay: given that Irish unity was employed in such a myriad of tracts from this period, one may assume it was an effective rhetorical tool and appealed to broad swaths of the Catholic population. Thus, though they could not agree on how they should unite, it appears that many Irish Catholics did agree that indeed they should. Given the Protestant ascendancy, increasing imperialization, and marginalization of Catholics in political life, the fact that this was the case is not surprising. Yet it is also not surprising that unity did not happen: the brunt of this oppression was not felt by the entire population. The Stuarts did not perfect the art of confessional, economic, and political persecution in Catholic Ireland. The Hanovers, however, did. Endnotes [1] Nicholas French, The bleeding Iphigenia or An excellent preface of a work unfinished, published by the authors frind, [sic] with the reasons of publishing it.] 1675. 2, 3, 6 [2] Tim Harris, “Restoration Ireland: Themes and Problems” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled, edited by Coleman A. Dennehy (Hampshire, England, 2008). 13 [3] Danielle McCormack, The Stuart Restoration and the English in Ireland (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016). 35-8 [4] Danielle McCormack, The Stuart Restoration and the English in Ireland (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016). 11-14 [5] Tim Harris, “Restoration Ireland: Themes and Problems” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled, edited by Coleman A. Dennehy (Hampshire, England, 2008). 13 [6] Tim Harris, “Restoration Ireland: Themes and Problems” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled, edited by Coleman A. Dennehy (Hampshire, England, 2008). 10 [7] Danielle McCormack, The Stuart Restoration and the English in Ireland (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016). 87 [8] Ann Creighton, “Grace and Favour: The Cabal Ministry and Irish Catholic Politics, 1667-1673” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled, edited by Coleman A. Dennehy (Hampshire, England, 2008). 152 [9] Raymond Gillespie, Seventeenth-Century Ireland: Making Ireland Modern (Gill and MacMillan: Dublin, 2006). 235 [10] Raymond Gillespie, Seventeenth-Century Ireland: Making Ireland Modern (Gill and MacMillan: Dublin, 2006). 237-8; Danielle McCormack, The Stuart Restoration and the English in Ireland (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016). 98 [11] Peter Walsh, P. W's Reply to the Person of Quality's Answer: Dedicated to His Grace, the Duke of Ormond. Paris: [s.n.], 1682. 88-80 [12] Raymond Gillespie, Seventeenth-Century Ireland: Making Ireland Modern (Gill and MacMillan: Dublin, 2006). 238-9 [13] Raymond Gillespie, Seventeenth-Century Ireland: Making Ireland Modern (Gill and MacMillan: Dublin, 2006). 239 [14] Danielle McCormack, The Stuart Restoration and the English in Ireland (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016). 96-98; Raymond Gillespie, Seventeenth-Century Ireland: Making Ireland Modern (Gill and MacMillan: Dublin, 2006). 239 [15] Ann Creighton, “Grace and Favour: The Cabal Ministry and Irish Catholic Politics, 1667-1673” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled, edited by Coleman A. Dennehy (Hampshire, England, 2008). 144-6 [16] Ernest Renan, What is a Nation? (Lecture at Sorbonne, 11 March 1882 in Discours et Conferences, Paris, Caiman-Levy, 1887). 277-310 [17] Danielle McCormack, The Stuart Restoration and the English in Ireland (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016). 87 [18] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland: Whereby the Just English Adventurer Is Much Prejudiced, the Antient Proprietor Destroyed, and Publick Faith Violated : to the Great Discredit of the English Church, and Government, (if Not Re-Called and Made Void) As Being Against the Principles of Christianity, and True Protestancy. Lovain: [s.n.], 1668 [19] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 1 [20] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 1 [21] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 1-2 [22] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 7, [23] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 12 [24] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 11-12 [25] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 17 [26] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 5-6 [27] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 8-9 [28] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 10 [29] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 16 [30] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 25 [31] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 25 [32] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. Represented by Peter Talbot In a Letter to the Roman-Catholiks of Ireland, Particulary Those of the City and Diocese of Dublin. [Douai: s.n., 1674.] [33] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. 1 [34] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. 1 [35] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. 1-2 [36] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. 7-8 [37] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. 10 [38] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. 2, 13 [39] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. 13 [40] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. 9 [41] Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland, 18 [42] Talbot, Peter, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subiects. 15 [43] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 198 [44] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 220; Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part I, CONTAINING POEMS DOWN TO THE YEAR 1666, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 206 [45] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part I, CONTAINING POEMS DOWN TO THE YEAR 1666, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 207 [46] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 33 [47] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part I, CONTAINING POEMS DOWN TO THE YEAR 1666, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 197, 203; Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 21, 39 [48] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 204 [49] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 62-3 [50] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 205 [51] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 220 [52] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 251 [53] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 224-5 [54] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 227 [55] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 225 [56] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 248-252 [57] Danielle McCormack, The Stuart Restoration and the English in Ireland (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016). 96 [58] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary, Or Irish Remonstrance ... Received by His Majesty Anno 1661 ..: In Several Treatises : with a True Account and Full Discussion of the Delusory Irish Remonstrance and Other Papers Framed and Insisted On by the National Congregation At Dublin, Anno 1666, and Presented to ... the Duke of Ormond, but Rejected by His Grace : to Which Are Added Three Appendixes, Whereof the Last Contains the Marquess of Ormond ... Letter of the Second of December, 1650 : In Answer to Both the Declaration and Excommunication of the Bishops, &c. At Jamestown. (London, 1673). [59] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary. ii [60] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary. ii [61] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary. ii [62] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary. xiii [63] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary. xvii-xviii [64] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary. xvi [65] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary. iv-v [66] Raymond Gillespie, Seventeenth-Century Ireland: Making Ireland Modern (Gill and MacMillan: Dublin, 2006). 265 [67] Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary. xi-xii [68] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh: His New Remonstrant Religion : the Articles Whereof Are to Be Seen In the Following Page : Taken Out of His History and Vindication of the Loyal Formulary .... Printed at Gant: [s.n.], 1674. 9 [69] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 11, 13 [70] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 10, 57 [71] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 28 [72] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 28 [73] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 67 [74] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 17 [75] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh.13 [76] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 40 [77] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 41 [78] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 44 [79] Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh. 78 [80] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 4 [81] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 7 [82] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 11 [83] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 262 [84] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 263 [85] Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). 252 [86] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 50 [87] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913).83 [88] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913).83 [89] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913).264 [90] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913).271 [91] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913).277, 281 [92] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 283 [93] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 285 [94] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913).287 [95] Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). 283 [96] Tom Garvin, The Evolution of Irish Nationalist Politics (New York), 14 [97] Tim Harris, “Ireland,” from his Revolution: The Great Crisis of the British Monarchy, 1685-1720 (2006), 500-12 References Works Cited: Anonymous, A Narrative of the Settlement and Sale of Ireland: Whereby the Just English Adventurer Is Much Prejudiced, the Antient Proprietor Destroyed, and Publick Faith Violated : to the Great Discredit of the English Church, and Government, (if Not Re-Called and Made Void) As Being Against the Principles of Christianity, and True Protestancy. Lovain: [s.n.], 1668 Ann Creighton, “Grace and Favour: The Cabal Ministry and Irish Catholic Politics, 1667-1673” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled, edited by Coleman A. Dennehy (Hampshire, England, 2008). Nicholas French, The bleeding Iphigenia or An excellent preface of a work unfinished, published by the authors frind, [sic] with the reasons of publishing it.] 1675 Tom Garvin, The Evolution of Irish Nationalist Politics (New York, 1981) Raymond Gillespie, Seventeenth-Century Ireland: Making Ireland Modern (Gill and MacMillan: Dublin, 2006). Tim Harris, “Restoration Ireland: Themes and Problems” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled, edited by Coleman A. Dennehy (Hampshire, England, 2008). Tim Harris, “Ireland,” from his Revolution: The Great Crisis of the British Monarchy, 1685-1720 (2006), 500-12 Eoin Kinsella, “Dividing the bear’s skin before she is taken’: Irish Catholics and Land in the Late Stuart Monarchy, 1683-1691” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled, edited by Coleman A. Dennehy (Hampshire, England, 2008). Joseph T. Leerssen, Mere Irish and Fíor-Ghael: Studies in the Idea of Irish Nationality, its Development and Literary Expression prior to the Nineteenth Century (Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986). Danielle McCormack, The Stuart Restoration and the English in Ireland (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016). Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part I, CONTAINING POEMS DOWN TO THE YEAR 1666, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913) Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Poems of Daibhi Ó Bruadair, Part II, CONTAINING POEMS FROM THE YEAE 1667 TILL 1682, Edited with Introduction, Translation, and Notes by REV. JOHN C. MAC ERLEAN, S.J. (London, 1913). Ernest Renan, What is a Nation? (Lecture at Sorbonne, 11 March 1882 in Discours et Conferences, Paris, Caiman-Levy, 1887). 277-310 Peter Talbot, The Duty and Comfort of Suffering Subjects. Represented by Peter Talbot In a Letter to the Roman-Catholiks of Ireland, Particulary Those of the City and Diocese of Dublin. [Douai: s.n., 1674. Peter Talbot, The Friar Disciplind, Or, Animadversions On Friar Peter Walsh: His New Remonstrant Religion : the Articles Whereof Are to Be Seen In the Following Page : Taken Out of His History and Vindication of the Loyal Formulary .... Printed at Gant: [s.n.], 1674. Peter Walsh, P. W's Reply to the Person of Quality's Answer: Dedicated to His Grace, the Duke of Ormond. Paris: [s.n.], 1682. Peter Walsh, The History & Vindication of the Loyal Formulary, Or Irish Remonstrance ... Received by His Majesty Anno 1661 ..: In Several Treatises : with a True Account and Full Discussion of the Delusory Irish Remonstrance and Other Papers Framed and Insisted On by the National Congregation At Dublin, Anno 1666, and Presented to ... the Duke of Ormond, but Rejected by His Grace : to Which Are Added Three Appendixes, Whereof the Last Contains the Marquess of Ormond ... Letter of the Second of December, 1650 : In Answer to Both the Declaration and Excommunication of the Bishops, &c. At Jamestown. (London, 1673). Works Consulted: Jim Smyth, “Republicanism before the United Irishmen: The case of Dr. Charles Lucas” in Political Discourse in Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-century Ireland edited by D. George Boyce, Robert Eccleshall, and Vincent Geoghegan (2001). 240-253 Tyrconnel, Richard Talbot, Earl of, 1630-1691: Tyrconnel's speech to his Privy Council made upon the (expected) landing of the late King James in Ireland : with remarks upon it. 1680 French, Nicholas, The Vnkinde Desertor of Loyall Men and True Frinds [sic]. [Paris]: Superiorum permissu, 1676. Jason McHugh, “Catholic Clerical Responses to the Restoration: The Case of Nicholas French” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled (Hampshire, England, 2008). 108-120 Michael Perceval-Maxwell, “The Irish Restoration Land Settlement and its Historians” in Restoration Ireland: Always Settling, Never Settled (Hampshire, England, 2008). 19-29 A Vindication of the Present Government of Ireland, under his Excellency Richard Earl of Tirconnell (1688)

American Jews The Political Behavior of American Jews A Public Choice Approach to Israel-influenced Voting Jake Goodman Brown University Author Eli Binder Audrey McDermott Ethan Shire Editors Spring 2018 The paper analyzes the voting incentives created by the relationship between American Jews and American-Israeli foreign relations. At the founding of the Jewish State in 1948, the United States recognized the establishment of a Zionist state through a press release from President Truman on March 14, 1948 (U.S. Recognition of the State of Israel). The two main political parties in the United States— the Democrats and Republicans—have both since maintained consistent political, economic, and military support for Israel. This support has come to be viewed by American Jewish voters, most of whom desire support for Israel, as a public good provided by the United States Government. This public good has direct ramifications on voter incentives. However, despite bipartisan support for foreign aid to Israel, American Jews have remained consistently liberal. While social scientists have offered various theories of why American Jews became and remain Democratic, a cogent explanation can be offered through the lens of public choice economics. Indeed, Jewish liberalism demonstrates a political anomaly that can be explained through the framework of voter incentives. Before explaining the impact of pro-Israel policy on Jewish voting, it is necessary to identify some additional factors that evidence how Jewish voting behavior remains a political anomaly. American Jews, despite job and social discrimination, have become the highest per capita income of any religious group in the United States (Wright, Ethnic Group Pressures in Foreign Policy, 1982, 1655-1660). While affluence in America generally tends to correlate with Republican affiliation, this trend does not hold true for American Jews (Cohen, American Jewish Liberalism, 405-430). Steven Cohen and Charles Liebman, in their research, also noted that more religious Jews tend to be less liberal, inclining religious Jews toward conservatism. They identify only a few issues on which Jews assert themselves as decidedly liberal: political identity as liberal, church-state separation, social codes, and domestic spending. Cohen and Liebman’s research illustrated that aside from pro-Israel policies, Jews have additional incentives to shift to the Republican party, yet they have remained consistently Democratic. On the other hand, Jews have higher education levels, which correlate with liberalism, compared to the general populace provides a common explanation of Jewish liberalism. Thus, while Jews demonstrate anomalous behavior, they also demonstrate typical associations that explain Jewish liberalism. While many incentives influence Jewish political behavior, a single-issue factor that unites Jews remains the support of Israel from the United States government. Professor Lawrence Fuchs defined American Jews as an “ethno-religious group,” which forms attitudes on social and political policy that align group interests with national interests (Fuchs, The Political Behavior of American Jews, 1980). American Jews, as “partisans of Israel,” were thus instrumental in having the United States recognize the state of Israel (Fuchs, 1980). As Professor Steven Bayme noted, the pro-Israel consensus in the American Jewish community has been maintained remarkably well over the past sixty plus years, with the two primary oppositional sources, classical Reform and Satmar Hasidism, remaining largely uninfluential (Bayme, American Jewry and the State of Israel, 2008). To court the Jewish vote, Democrats and Republicans have functioned as “entrepreneurs selling policies for votes” — the policy, in this case, being bilateral economic assistance for Israel (Downs, An Economic Theory of Political Action in a Democracy, 1957). If we assume that American Jewish citizens behave as expected utility maximizers, Jewish voters gain extra expected utility from electing the more pro-Israel candidate, aligning with the Jewish voters’ preference for a pro-Israel public good. The gain to the Jewish voter would be defined as the preferred more pro-Israel candidate (Ferejohn & Fiorina, The Paradox of not Voting, 1974). Indeed, due to American Jewish attachment to Israel, there is a rational reason to vote; by voting for a more pro-Israel candidate in the political market, the Jewish voter ensures a higher quality public good that suits the Jewish voter’s preference for a more robust pro-Israel political platform. An initial investigation must depict the nature of the collective good thus described. As the natural monopoly on tax spending and military power, the government provides public goods to citizens. The United States government, having such a monopoly, becomes the sole provider of military and economic support to Israel for American citizens. Israel first received U.S. government assistance in the form of a $100 million loan from the Export-Import Bank in 1949 and aid remained modest for the next two decades (Sharp, Federation of American Scientists, 2016). After several consecutive Arab-Israeli wars, US aid to Israel increased dramatically, with Israel becoming the largest recipient of US aid in 1974. Middle East Specialist Jeremy Sharp reported that Israel is the largest cumulative recipient of US aid since World War II, receiving $124 billion of bilateral assistance in non-inflation adjusted terms (2016). An additional State Department directive this year has pledged $38 billion over the next ten years to Israel. The majority of this assistance has come in the form of Military aid, which has led to a qualitative military edge for the Israeli military, developing anti-rocket technologies such as the Iron Dome, Arrow I and II, and David’s Sling. The United States has also provided economic aid to Israel in the form of emergency aid packages during times of recession. Aid from the United States has thus allowed Israel to transition from a fledgling nation-state to a modern industrialized nation. (Sharp, Federation of American Scientists, 2016). While the United States government is not the sole supplier of aid to Israel, it functions as a monopoly within the US political market as a government supplier of aid. Jewish voters thus form preferences and expected utility functions based upon the differing levels of aid provided by the US government, a monopolistic supplier. To further analyze the impact of US foreign policy toward Israel on Jewish voting patterns, it is necessary to examine the historical political alignment of Jews, from Jeffersonian Republicans to Democrats to Republicans, prior to the establishment of Israel as a Jewish state. While Jewish political equality did not emerge directly out of the American revolution, Jews achieved political equality in the five states they were most numerous in, and the growing movement in revolutionary America for the separation of church and state worked to the Jewish community’s advantage (Fuchs, 1980, p. 24). The first instance of Jewish political alignment began with a Jewish attachment to the Jeffersonian Republicans; in the 1830s, Jackson and the new Democratic party gained the Jewish devotion Jefferson and Madison had maintained (Fuchs, 1980, p. 29). By 1840, a large majority of American Jewry, around 15,000 at the time, joined Martin Van Buren’s coalition, buoyed by Van Buren’s protection of Jews in Egypt (Fuchs, 1980, p. 30). With the immigration of as many as 100,000 German Jews to the United States between 1848 and the beginning of the Civil War, Jewish political alignment shifted, splitting support between Democrats and the Whigs (Fuchs, 1980, p. 33). By 1860, Jews in the North, particularly German-Jews, welcomed the new Republican Party, as many Rabbis and Jews opposed slavery (Fuchs, 1980, p. 35). In the four decades after the Civil War, Jews were widely divided with a slight major party preference for the Republican Party (Fuchs, 1980, p. 50). With the exception of Woodrow Wilson’s Jewish majority in 1916, Jews continued to lean Republican in presidential elections from 1900 to 1928 even with an influx of nearly two million Jewish immigrants fleeing anti-Semitism and poverty in Europe (Fuchs, 1980, p. 51). However, the 1920s showed a growing trend of Jewish support for the Democratic party, more rapid in certain cities but generally solidified by the Jewish commitment to Franklin Roosevelt in 1932 (Fuchs, 1980, p. 71). For example, in Boston’s Ward 14, a heavily Jewish area, 78 percent of enrolled voters were Republican in 1928, while only 14 percent of voters were Republican in 1952 (Fuchs, 1980, p. 72). The proportion of Jews who voted for the Democratic Party peaked at 90 percent for FDR in the 1940s (Rebhun, 2016, p. 141). To maintain Jewish support, the Democratic Party committed itself to fighting fascist anti-Semitism in Europe and to ensuring the military and economic security of the State of Israel (Schnall, 1987, p. 77). In all Presidential elections since 1932, 60 to 90 percent of American Jews voted for the Democratic candidate. (Rebhun, 2016, p. 141). While Jewish-American Democratic support has been in decline since the late 1960s, the Jewish vote has remained solidly within the Democratic camp (Rebhun, 2016, p. 143). Additionally, the Jewish vote declined in Republican support between 1980 and 2000 but has since risen from 2000 to 2016 (Kent, 2016). As evidenced by the above historical charting of Jewish political alignment, the Jewish community has shifted in partisan alignment multiple times in American history. Why then have Jews maintained their allegiance to the Democratic Party since 1932? While many factors are involved in addressing this question, a key factor absent in other eras of American history is the establishment of Israel in 1948 and the consequent United States’ support of Israel. The median voter theorem becomes especially relevant in addressing the Jewish-Democratic alliance. Anthony Downs observed that voters can cut the cost of information by comparing ideologies rather than policies — the lack of information thus engendering a demand for ideologies in the electorate (1957, p. 142). Downs reasons that stable government in a two-party democracy requires a distribution of voters approximating a normal curve in which both parties resemble each other closely (1957, p. 143). In terms of US-Israeli foreign policy, Democrats and Republicans resemble each other closely in that they have both maintained military and economic aid for Israel. According to the Median Voter Theorem, with both parties exhibiting similar ideologies of a pro-Israel consensus, one would expect the distribution to resemble a normal curve, but this has not been the case. Surprisingly, Democratic and Republican Israeli policy has had more in common than not; yet, a normal curve does not represent the Jewish vote. In the election of 1948, both party candidates were committed to Zionism, with both parties adopting pro-Israel positions in their national platforms (Fuchs, 1980, p. 81). Truman’s election allowed the Democratic party to yield pro-Israel results, beginning with Truman’s recognition of Israel, the $100 million loan from the Export-Import Bank in 1949, and the Tripartite Declaration of 1950 (Sharp, 2016, p. 36). Lawrence Fuchs identified 1952 as a key moment in the political market for the Jewish vote, in which despite being as “well paid, fed, and educated as the most successful Republican denomination groups” Jews continued to vote for Democrats (1980, p. 99). Eisenhower’s term, however, allowed for product differentiation in the political market; Jews could now compare the quality of the collective good provided by the United States government, economic and political aid to Israel, under two different political parties. Indeed, while several factors, as Lawrence Fuchs noted, contributed to Jewish loyalty to the Democratic party, the Eisenhower Administration's policy toward Israel hurt Republican chances with Jewish voters; Zionist rallies were held in October of 1954 protesting the Eisenhower Administration’s policy towards Israel (Fuchs, 1980, p. 117). Fuchs indicated that Zionist leaders criticized the Eisenhower Administration's decision to ship arms to “feudal Arab leaders” while holding back on Israeli military aid (Fuchs, 1980, p. 117). The Suez Canal, in which the United States strengthened its bond with Egypt and forced military Israeli withdrawal, provided another demonstration of Eisenhower’s lukewarm position toward Israel (“Suez Crisis, 1956,” n.d.). Weak Republican support for Israel did not shift Jewish political alignment to its benefit; American Jews thus exhibited a lopsided preference for Democratic US-Israeli policy during the 1960 election of John F. Kennedy, with around 80 percent voting for Kennedy and 18 percent voting for Nixon — a major shift from the 1956 election in which 60 percent voted for Stevenson while 40 percent voted for Eisenhower (Weisberg, 2012, p. 217). Post-1948, several Republican administrations have seen fluctuations in their capturing of the Jewish vote. Professor Theodore Wright, writing in 1982, noted that in recent years Republicans had sought to “outbid the Democrats” in their promises to the Zionist state. Indeed, the election of Ronald Reagan demonstrated a partisan shift in the political market in reaction to the Israel policies of the Democratic Carter Administration. Professor Weisberg cited data showing that many Jews felt Carter was too hard on Israel and consequently 39 percent voted for Reagan and 45 percent voted for Carter (Weisberg, 2012, p. 228). This represented a major shift in the partisan distribution of Jewish voters, nearly approaching Downs’s normal distribution curve. However, despite Reagan’s policies being more pro-Israel than Carter’s, the Democratic party regained the Jewish vote in the 1984 presidential election, with 67 percent voting for Walter Mondale and 31 percent voting for Ronald Reagan (Weisberg, 2012, p. 228). Professor Weisberg notes that while Republicans saw a boost in their attainment of the Jewish vote in the 1970s and 1980s, it was followed by subsequent loss of the Jewish vote in the 1990s and 2000s (Weisberg, 2012, 232). However, another interesting data point occurred in 2012. The highly-publicized testiness of Obama’s relationship with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and “dissatisfaction with Obama’s Middle East policy” during his first term boosted the Jewish Republican vote by 9 percentage points, from 21 percent for McCain to 30 percent for Romney (Rebhun, 2016, p. 144). The Republican resurgence was squashed in the 2016 election, falling to 24 percent for Trump despite visible strain in the Obama-era US-Israeli diplomatic relations. These various historical examples indicate that shifts in the partisan alignment of the Jewish vote occur in accordance with a greater expected utility of Republican Israeli policy after a strain in Democratic-Israel relations. Nonetheless, while Jewish voters demonstrate small shifts in political alignment, they often return to a high percentage of votes for the Democratic presidential candidate. This is a noteworthy behavior; if Republicans have proven to Jewish voters that they can successfully compete with Democrats with their pro-Israel policies, why have more Jews not shifted to the Republican party? Arye Hillman accounted for such a phenomenon by considering the expressive-voting hypothesis, which posits that certain people vote “to obtain the expressive utility from confirming identity” to themselves or a group rather than to decisively sway an election (2011, p. 250). Because American Jews have historically aligned with the Democratic Party, Hillman assumed that Jews, with exceptions, rationally vote for Democrats, though it is against their self-interest, in order to gain the expressive utility associated with expressing group identity (2011, p. 256). Hillman offered a variety of historical examples from Podhoretz’s book Why Are Jews Liberals?. In the 1960’s election, he noted that Kennedy’s father was openly anti-semitic, yet Kennedy secured 82% of the Jewish vote (Hillman, 2011, p. 254). In 1972, he cited that the Democrat McGovern received two-thirds of the Jewish vote despite McGovern favoring racially-based quotas in education that would have been disadvantageous to Jews and be inimical to the state of Israel (Hillman, 2011, p. 254). Additionally, in 2008, 78 percent of Jews voted for Obama despite Obama having “anti-Israel associations” and a record that showed less concern for Israel than his Republican opponent (Hillman, 2011, p. 255). There are obviously limits to how much Jewish identity impacts voting decision and how much Jewish identity is tied to Israel. However, despite its assumptions about Jewish identity, Hillman’s evidence provides a theoretically relevant public choice explanation of why Jews may rationally vote for Democrats despite competitive pro-Israel policies from the Republican Party. Rather than functioning as a singular issue which ultimately sways the Jewish voter, the Jewish preference for a robust pro-Israel policy represents a unique and influential indicator within the multifaceted preferences of the Jewish voter. By examining historical presidential voting data, specific instances when Jewish voters could have voted according to a pro-Israel preference based upon the partisan performance of the previous administration can be identified. While this analysis has been largely driven by market outcomes – Jews evaluating their voting decisions based off of the Israeli policy of the current administration – it highlights the impact of information on voting patterns. If a Jewish voter is provided with more information, via four years of governance by a certain party, about the perceived ideology of either political party, they will adjust their preferences according to this new information. While Downs notes there are costs to acquiring such information, the marginal return, or the increase in utility from making an improved decision concerning partisan Israeli-relations ideology, would presumably exceed the marginal cost of acquiring such information for Jewish voters who decide to vote. However, while it is important to analyze the behavior of Jews as an ethnic group, there exist differences within the Jewish community which should also be examined. Laurence Kotler-Berkowitz and Lawrence Sternberg researched the influence of the centralized institutions of the American Jewish community on political cohesion and division amongst Jews (2000, p. 23). The researchers amalgamated data proving that the political activists within major Jewish institutions in the United States, such as the Jewish Community Relations Council and the organized Federation system, display differences in measures of ideology, partisanship, political and social attitudes, and policy preferences than most synagogue members and donors and are decisively more liberal (2000, p. 40). Their research demonstrated that the participants in the most centralized set of Jewish institutions display political preferences “within a fairly narrow range, denoting political cohesion” (2000, p. 44). Kotler-Berkowitz and Sternberg’s research also showed that while Jews tend to lean liberal, the degree of cohesion within the American Jewish community should not be assumed to be absolute. For example, political division among American Jews, despite the overall liberalism of Jewish institutions, allows for the opportunity of Republican competition in the markets, specifically in the more traditional Jewish communities. Republicans have particularly thrived among Orthodox Jews, who are the most Republican in their voting (Weisberg, 2012, p. 225). Eytan Gilboa traced the historical arc of Jewish support for Israel and the complicated relationship between Jews and specific Israeli policy preferences. Beginning in 1948, he notes that 90 percent of American Jews supported the establishment of Israel and the decision of President Truman to recognize the State of Israel (Gilboa, 1986, p. 113). According to public surveys from 1957 to 1983, Jews remained highly favorable toward Israel, with all but one of the pro-Israel results ranking above 90 percent (Gilboa, 1986, p. 113). Gilboa’s research also notes that all surveys of American Jews in his research show overwhelming support for US aid to Israel — around 91 to 96 percent from 1971 to 1985 (Gilboa, 1986, p. 117). However, Gilboa also investigated public opinion surveys that show a less unified American Jewish community from 1967 to 1982 concerning positions and policies in the Arab-Israeli conflict (Gilboa, 1986, p. 121). Surveys between 1980 and 1984 further evidence a split Jewish opinion on the question of a Palestinian state (Gilboa, 1986, p. 123). The conclusion of Gilboa’s paper highlights the remarkable stability of Jewish support for economic and military aid for Israel despite diverging foreign policy positions of American Jewry. Gilboa’s data and conclusions highlight an interesting complication of the Jewish political market; American Jews, while supporting aid, may not uniformly support the same policy results. The complex interactions between Zionism, ethno-religious political behavior, and political support for Israel highlights the lack of information politicians acquire about the Jewish community and also provides evidence of why US aid for Israel has been sustained for so long. An additional complication is that the Jewish voting is not the only group incentivizing pro-Israel policy. In fact, since 1989, Israel’s favorability among general Americans has vacillated between 45 percent and 79 percent (Saad, 2016). Republicans have additional political incentives to support Israel that may influence the Jewish vote. Evangelical Christians, who number about 75 million in the United States, have become “increasingly mobilized” in support of Israel (Waxman, 2010, p. 15). Since the Second Intifada, which began in 2000, the Christian Right has become increasingly influential in the Republican political market. According to Professor Murray Friedman, the Christian Right, while showing strong support for Israel, disincentivized Jews from joining the Republican party out of fear that the Christian Right has become “too influential” in the GOP (2003, p. 436). The influence of the Christian Right on Republican foreign policy highlights that while Republicans compete with Democrats for the Jewish vote with pro-Israel policy, they also compete for the vote of the Christian Right through pro-Israel policy. Additionally, the bedrock of evangelical support for Israel has shifted incentives for Jews to vote as single-issue voters; support for Israel remains ensured for by the prominent support for pro-Israel candidates on the Right vying for the support of evangelists, allowing Jewish voters flexibility to vote for Democrats who may not be as pro-Israel as the Republican candidate. In recognizing that pro-Israel policy has not yielded strong Jewish electoral results, Republicans have continued to maintain pro-Israel policy because the Christian Right has incentivized them to do so. Thus, while the political market for the Jewish vote remains influenced by a multitude of factors, the widespread preference among Jewish voters for a pro-Israel collective good shifts incentives in the political market. How Jews collectively vote remains complex, and the historical Jewish alignment with the Democratic Party despite competitive pro-Israel policy from the Republican Party highlights this complexity. It seems likely that two trends will continue based on the political incentive structures described in this paper: Jews will continue to predominantly align with the Democratic Party and both Democrats and Republicans will continue to offer competitive pro-Israel ideologies. 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