Values and vices shift radically over time in all societies and cultures. However, betrayal is one of those enduring vices the weight of whose forms may wax and wane with political and historical circumstances, but whose definition can be agreed upon by most human beings across the globe, a definition generally grounded in the primal experience of being betrayed, that is, cast from the perspective of the victim. Betrayal is a fundamental human experience that arouses a deep emotional response because in its “thickest” form, it destroys the “thick” relations that bind family and friends, undermining the solidarity of the unit upon which societies are built. According to the new book by Avashai Margalit, the impassioned disgust with which we understand betrayal arises from the distinction between the ethics of “thick relations” (family and close friends) that give human lives their meaning, and the morality of “thin relations” as what we owe in theory to strangers on the basis of their shared humanity with ours.

Margalit unpacks these parallel analytic distinctions (ethics/morality; thick/thin human relations) through historical cases and literary examples, unmasking the lived experience of the phenomenon of betrayal through rich and detailed accounts of being betrayed, demonstrating that our highly emotional response to this vice arises from its always being essentially understood from the perspective of the victim. Margalit unpacks the vagaries of the concept of betrayal, first from its most poignant case—adultery, the betrayal of the promises of marriage and the bonds upon which families are spawned, then moving outward toward betrayal’s more communal forms.

Moving on to analyses of betrayal’s political and religious forms, Margalit discovers that treason gains much more purchase on the imagination of a society when that society is at war, while apostasy loses much of its importance as societies move toward democratic liberalism. Aiding and comforting the enemy when one’s country is at war seems to hit deep resonance with that human reaction of disgust aroused by adultery, but loosening one’s sense of belonging toward one’s religious or ethnic community seems entirely fitting in modern multicultural societies, especially in the light of the historical sins that resulted from the projects of nationalism (ethnic cleansings and genocides) of the early twentieth century.  Margalit then enquires into the complications that arise when a country is under occupation or in the grips of an oppressive regime: does collaboration with insurgents not become a moral obligation under circumstances of tyranny?

Next Margalit shows that while some forms of betrayal never loosen their hold on our heartstrings, our sensibility toward some forms of betrayal are waning in their seriousness in modern times. He asks about class solidarity and whether one ought to, or does, feel a sense of betrayal in escaping the economic struggle of the lower class. Finally, Margalit closes with a consideration of betrayal’s connection with the virtue of honesty: do we despise hypocrites because their words betray us or is a certain amount of verbal and conceptual betrayal a necessary element in modern politics for the sake of security? He leaves us with the grave question whether the transparency we think critical to ethics is a medicine far worse than the disease of betrayal it is called upon to cure.

Margalit writes from the analytical philosophical tradition, unpacking, concept by concept, the meanings and critical distinctions that illuminate our terms of discussion, but his easy conversational style renders that generally dry philosophical method more easily digestible. He unmasks ambiguities, analyses definitions, holds ideas to the test of generalities, and then tries the findings in the court of phenomenological description to be certain the account fits with our human experience of the phenomenon. His distinction between ethics and morality, while arbitrary, reveals a curious moral ambiguity at the heart of our ethical reasoning: in the end all that people generally care about is what is judged supportive of and loyal to the ingroup. The tender sensibility and overwhelming disgust that we feel against the vice of betrayal is a function of the fact that betrayal undermines the glue that holds intact my ingroup. However, given the dangers that attend rigid ingroup loyalties, whether in families, ethnic or religious communities, or political projects, any act that undermines that perilous adhesive deserves some measure of gentle applause.

On Betrayal is a pleasure to read, offering conceptual puzzle after conceptual puzzle to unpick, but unlike most philosophical works in the analytical style, this book will be found both digestible and interesting by a general educated readership.

© 2017 Wendy C. Hamblet

Wendy C. Hamblet, Ph.D. (Philosophy), North Carolina A&T State University.