KnightofPhoenix wrote...
The concept of "monopoly on legitimate use of force" as explained by Max Weber is a modern concept for "modern states". States prior the modern era did not hold that monopoly. In feudal systems, nobles could and did use violence when they saw fit. Feudal systems held, or aspired to hold, that monopoly when it came to larger issues / crimes. But for the most part, communities and fiefs within the feudal state were more or less auto-regulated. Monopoly on legitimate use of force is in large part linked to technology (gunpowder being one of the key inventions) and state capacity / institutions. The modern state is unparallelled in its capacities.
The Dalish certainly do not qualify to be a state. I am not even sure we can consider them a tribal confederation.
And of course, winners decide what is legal and what is not, and this is the case even today, regardless of how subtle they are in doing so.
Sure, but this is, again, why I always balk when people try to use modern political terms and ideals to discuss events in Dragon Age without acknowledging the fundamental differences between our modern world and the situation in Thedas. That's what I was trying to point out in my little rant, possibly unsuccessfully. The questions were largely rhetorical, to illustrate my train of thought, though I appreciate your actual answers to them.
I tried to look up the modern definitions of statehood, but I remembered Taiwan halfway through and made the mistake of trying to find a way to summarize their legal status in a paragraph; my brain overheated and I had to go for a bit of a lie-down. Then I went to look up more details on the status of reservations and decided that it was all too much work. My point was that once you get away from the obvious and into the edge cases, it becomes clear how arbitrary the idea of what constitutes a state is. Things get even more complex if we use nation instead of state, and don't get me started on "people." I understand that the terms are useful, but I feel like people associate them with a sort of invisible moral weight.
This also ties in to the mainstream moral acceptance of order or law as inherently superior to chaos. Someone who uses the system to murder thousands is seen as a better person than someone who kills a handful as an... independent contractor, shall we say. Someone who follows bad orders is often forgiven, sometimes treated more kindly than someone who disobeys bad orders. I'm not arguing for the inherent superiority of chaos, but rather the moral neutrality of both, and the benefits of a nice mix.
When you see the state embodied by a single person placed there not by any inherent superiority of skill or wisdom, but rather because they have risen to the top of a system that rewards viciousness, it becomes easier to mistrust it. The state can be some vague theoretical entity, or it can essentially just be Meredith... or Cersei Lanister. I'm not saying all states are like this; states where the citizenry are allowed to say whatever they want and go wherever they like tend to work out better. But in any oligarchy, the state must needs be seen as just as morally suspect as any individual.
Modifié par CulturalGeekGirl, 02 août 2011 - 05:32 .