Earlier this year, Eric Patterson called for a return to first principles thinking in just war theory with his proposal on just statecraft as a more holistic approach to the ends and means of state power. In his soft critique of Patterson’s proposal, Robert Nicholson raised an important question:
“How can we better train future leaders to engage the world’s material and metaphysical problems with more wisdom?”
How indeed do we train statesmen to heed the biblical call to get wisdom and with it understanding (Proverbs 4:5-7)? Can it be taught in a formal comprehensive way? Does it start with a Great Books education?
Nicholson’s question is a critical one for advancing a just statecraft tradition, yet there is no consensus on the educational model that forms just statesmen. Carnes Lord of U.S. Naval War College has written on reorienting the “mirror for princes” genre found in thinkers from Aristotle to Machiavelli towards democratic statesmen, while plenty of presidential biographies seek to understand the key ingredients of statesmanship. What the discussion lacks is an archetype to guide their inquiry.
I propose that King Solomon be considered as the archetype of a just statesman, thus giving particular attention to the elements that shaped the legendary wisdom that marked him and his reign.
In the Western tradition, Solomon is synonymous with wisdom. Even in pop culture, DC Comics endows one of its superheroes with Solomon’s wisdom. But where did that wisdom come from? Scripture identifies three sources: God’s gift, Solomon’s character, and his life experience. We tend to quickly confirm the first source, tacitly acknowledge the second, but almost entirely neglect the third. What follows is an attempt to rectify that oversight by sketching Solomon’s biography as a framing device to understand his wisdom writings as an attempt to “bottle the lightning” of just statesmanship.
The main biblical texts covering Solomon’s reign are 1 Kings 1:1-11:43; 1 Chronicles 20:1-29:30; 2 Chronicles 1:1-11:3. Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon are all attributed to him as the author. Besides these texts, it’s worth considering another critical chunk of scripture: 2 Samuel 12:24-24:25. This passage covers the latter part of David’s reign, beginning from the birth of Solomon. Aside from his birth, Solomon is not mentioned in this narrative, yet this passage adds essential context to understanding his development as a statesman.
Prior to ascending the throne, Solomon lived through Absalom’s rebellion, ambitious generals, and the scheming of Benjamites and his family members. He witnessed his father age to the point of being bedridden. Despite the relative stability of David’s rule, his succession was undefined and overshadowed by rival tribes and houses, external and internal threats. Indeed, Solomon would have seemed a highly improbable successor to David if not for the advocacy of his mother Bathsheba and the prophet Nathan. David might have been a good king and great warrior, but planning a succession was clearly a blind spot that almost triggered another civil war.
Solomon would thus have become king with two strategic imperatives: securing the kingdom both internally (establish his legitimacy) and externally (maintain national defense) while also preparing his succession.
In such a context, Solomon’s prayer to God for wisdom takes on an altogether different tone. He’s not just a humble petitioner, he’s desperate, even fearful of what the future holds. There’s something deeply human here. Solomon can be portrayed as some kind of mystic philosopher, but the wisdom we see in Proverbs and elsewhere are not the musings of an ivory tower academic (though he does likes towers). Instead, we see a wise ruler who deploys the whole DIME spectrum (Diplomatic, Informational, Military, and Economic) to peacefully fulfill his strategic imperatives, all to great success.
In securing the kingdom from outside threats, Solomon believed that “if you would have peace prepare for war.” He did so by extending the network of defensive fortifications on Israel’s borders while upgrading and deploying a professional army with sophisticated logistics. In establishing his legitimacy, he justly, but firmly, removed rivals while also shoring up his own right to rule through public demonstrations of wisdom. His crowning achievement was the First Temple. Besides being an architectural wonder, the powerful display of God’s glory entering the temple would have cemented Solomon’s position as a ruler ordained by God.
Yet, despite the benefits of wisdom, Solomon’s long reign ultimately declines, revealing a critical element of just statecraft: it must be actively nurtured. The latter half of Ecclesiastes indicates that Solomon had lost focus on the foundations of wisdom, concluding the book with his pithy description of man’s purpose: to fear God and keep his commandments. With that line in mind, there’s a sense of urgency in many of Proverbs’ admonitions to (royal) sons to heed the teachings of the father (Solomon).
If Ecclesiastes is Solomon’s philosophical reflection on the purpose of life, Proverbs functions as Solomon’s guidebook to his successors, a biblical parallel to Machiavelli’s Prince or Erasmus’ Education of a Christian Prince, wherein the great Reformer echoes the purposes of Solomon:
So conduct your rule as if this were your aim: “My equal shall never succeed me I” In the meantime, raise your children for future rule as if it were your desire to be succeeded by a better prince.
In other words, the just statesman is concerned not only with his own rule, but with his successor as well.
There is much to glean from Solomon, but let’s return to the original question: if Solomon is the archetype of a just statesman, then how can we better train future leaders to engage the world’s material and metaphysical problems with more wisdom? What does it look like to develop and deploy wisdom in the manner of Solomon?
Having sketched Solomon’s life and writings, we can draw out some initial answers to that question:
- The just statesman is a self-aware, intellectually humble, lifelong learner.
- He recognizes the need for God’s guidance. Solomon had an excellent education (formal and informal), but it was never enough, and even threatened to overwhelm the foundational element: Solomon’s fear of and reliance on God.
- The just statesman takes an active interest in matters of state, understands the national interest and seeks to improve the nation’s prospects.
- The just statesman is both student and teacher, actively learning and seeking to distill his knowledge and experience into educating the next generation of leaders.
- The just statesman is both student and teacher, actively learning and seeking to distill his knowledge and experience into educating the next generation of leaders.
- The just statesman is direct in his diplomacy.
- The just statesman may prefer soft power, but is judicious and firm in his application of hard power.
This is a short list of principles that can be translated into learning objectives. Would we train future leaders to use wisdom in the service of just statecraft? Train them, disciple them, towards these ends.