POLITICAL ART AND ARTFUL POLITICSnby Vukan KuicnWe speak as readily of the art of politics as we do of the art ofncooking or writing, and what we have in mind in each casenis what the French call savoir faire. This sense of “art”nclaims excellence for the activity of which the term isnpredicated, and since to know what to do and how to do itnmakes perhaps more difference in politics than in anythingnelse, this well-established usage seems unobjectionable.nAnd yet, praising politics as an art is somewhat misleadingnand may have disastrous consequences, because politics isnnot really an art, and its excellence is in some essentialnrespects diametrically opposed to all but the most limitednsense of “art.”nCooking is indeed an art, but we may do better contrastingnpolitics with poetry or composition or painting, that is,nthe so-called “fine arts,” which most philosophers see as ournway of rising above our earthly daily experiences. Forninstance, Schelling describes a work of art as “the infinitenfinitely represented.” Similarly, locating its essence in whatnhe calls “style,” Goethe believes that art penetrates “thenessence of things, insofar as it is granted to us to know this innvisible and tangible forms.” Croce may be said to translatenthat thought into Italian when he proclaims that “annaspiration enclosed in the circle of representation—that isnart.” And Maritain may be said to do Croce one betternwhen he asserts that a true “work of art . . . will deliver tonthe mind, at one stroke, the universe in a human countenance.”nThis transcendent character of art is further confirmed bynthe requirement of “otherness” involved in its evaluation.nIn the case of cooking, the proof is in the pudding, not innthe cook. In the case of fine arts, however, this requirementnis, appropriately enough, doubled and applies not only tonthe artist but also to the beholder of art. In order truly tonenjoy a work of art, we are told by wise philosophers, wenmust not even covet it, let alone consume it. Consumptionnor covetousness make it impossible to appreciate “beauty,”nregardless of whether one thinks that it is found “in the eyenof the beholder” or in the thing itselfnTolstoy expresses doubts about “beauty” as a valid aestheticnstandard and resignedly concludes that “we calln’beauty’ that which pleases us without evoking in us desire.”nBut that is precisely what “the beautiful” meant to Plato. Innthe Symposium, at the end of a sumptuous banquet, thenguests, without desiring any, are able to contemplate thensheer beauty of artistically arranged baskets of fruits. Indeed,nas Yves R. Simon has suggested, “To describe aloofness asnthe privilege of the aesthetic eye is almost the same as tongive a definition of beauty.” Politics, as we shall see, enjoysnno such privilege. In politics, neither the actor, “the artist,”nnor the beholders of his action can ever remain aloof ornunaffected by its “product.” In contrast to art, politics is notnabout essences but about existence.nOf course, in real life, not even the most successful formsnVukan Kuic is a professor of political science at thenUniversity of South Carolina.nof art attain the ideal of total detachment from daily andnindeed political reality. Thus while all may agree with ErnstnCassirer that art is a “symbolic form,” which in its own wayngives us access to another “reality,” this by no meansnguarantees that all will judge particular works of art in thensame way. Even if everyone shared the same definition ofnart, there would still be plenty of room for disagreementnabout whether particular works satisfied that definition andnabout who was qualified to pass aesthetic judgment.nTo know good art is never easy, but an “artist’s artist”nshould be able to recognize it. A Phidias would knownwhether a piece of marble of a certain shape is a work of art,nand a Michelangelo and a Rodin would probably agree. Anyoung playwright would be lucky if he could submit hisnwork to a Shakespeare, a budding poet to have his read by anGoethe, a neophyte novelist to have his judged by a Tolstoy,nany musician to have his composition listened to by a Bach,nand so on. A master artist not only is capable of creatingnwhat gives us pleasure without stirring desire, but he alsonknows exactly what he is doing. And because he can thusnlook at his own work and see that it is good, he can also tellnabout the work of others. To be and to know at the samentime is said to be a divine privilege. Working in its shadow,nthe human creator, the master artist, must therefore be thenbest judge of art.nThe second best judge of art would appear to be thenprofessional critic who, while he may not be capable ofnproducing great works, has devoted his life to trying to graspnwhat is intelligible in art and wants to let the rest of us in onnit. Academic teachers of art history and philosophersnspecializing in aesthetics, as well as journalists covering thenarts all perform this valuable service of fostering appreciationnof art among their fellow citizens. Unfortunately, tondistinguish a good from a bad critic may sometimes bennnJANUARY 1987 /15n