Ernst Kantorowicz, The King’s Two Bodies: A Study in Mediaeval Political Theology (1957). Grok summary:
Overview and Summary of the Book and Its Arguments
Ernst H. Kantorowicz’s The King’s Two Bodies: A Study in Mediaeval Political Theology (1957) is a seminal exploration of how medieval political thought conceptualized the ruler as possessing dual natures: a “body natural” that is mortal, fallible, and subject to human frailties, and a “body politic” that is immortal, infallible, and eternal, ensuring the continuity of sovereignty beyond the individual’s lifespan. Drawing from legal, theological, and philosophical sources, Kantorowicz argues that this “mystic fiction” emerged as a mechanism to sustain political order in pre-modern societies lacking strong bureaucratic institutions. The book traces the idea’s genealogy from Tudor England backward to late antiquity, emphasizing its roots in Christian theology—particularly the dual nature of Christ (human and divine)—and its adaptation through Roman and canon law, where concepts like the eternal dignity of office (dignitas) and the mystical body of the Church (corpus mysticum) were secularized to apply to kingship and the state. This duality, Kantorowicz posits, resolved practical issues like succession, inalienability of crown lands, and the perpetuity of royal authority, while reflecting broader tensions between sacral and rational governance.
The work’s enduring appeal lies in its interdisciplinary breadth, blending erudite analysis of texts from jurists, theologians, and poets with insights into art, liturgy, and symbolism. Kantorowicz defends the historical significance of such “mystic fictions” against modern secular skepticism, showing how they enabled rulers to command allegiance in eras of weak infrastructure. However, he acknowledges the concept’s evolution: from Christ-centered sacral kingship in the early Middle Ages, through law-centered models influenced by Roman jurisprudence, to polity-centered ideas emphasizing the corporate state, and finally to humanistic, man-centered visions in Dante. Critiques, as noted in the introductions by Conrad Leyser and William Chester Jordan, highlight the book’s dense, non-linear structure—likened to a “kaleidoscope” or “diet of jam without bread”—and its occasional mystification of power, potentially overlooking realpolitik bargaining among elites. Yet, it remains a landmark for understanding how theological metaphors underpinned the myth of the state, influencing modern notions of sovereignty and corporate personhood.
Kantorowicz’s personal context as a German-Jewish émigré fleeing Nazism adds layers: the book, conceived in the 1930s amid political crisis, engages subtly with Carl Schmitt’s political theology while masking continuities with the author’s earlier, more mythic work on Frederick II. Ultimately, it argues that the king’s two bodies is not mere superstition but a profound theological offshoot secularized over centuries, marking a shift from divine to human-centered authority. This framework illuminates how pre-modern societies navigated ruler mortality, interregna, and institutional perpetuity, with implications for contemporary discussions of state continuity and the body politic.
Chapter-by-Chapter Summary/Overview of Arguments
Introduction to the Princeton Classics Edition (by Conrad Leyser, 2016): Leyser contextualizes the book’s appeal amid its challenges, warning of its dense, non-linear style and footnote-heavy exposition. He situates Kantorowicz’s life as a German-Jewish intellectual in the Stefan George circle, whose early mythic biography of Frederick II (1927) veered uncomfortably close to nationalist sentiments, contrasting with his later American reinvention. Leyser argues the book engages modern disenchantment, dialoguing with Schmitt’s Political Theology (1922) to explore how “mystic fictions” sustain power in leaderless crises, like the German interregnum post-Frederick II. He critiques the work’s airless focus on high discourse over social relations but praises its intuition on pre-modern governance without violence monopolies. Leyser links it to post-WWII historiography’s shift toward body history (e.g., Foucault, Bynum), positioning it as a bridge between legal anthropology and institutional studies, ultimately rooted in late antiquity’s Pauline “body of Christ” and Constantinian corporate law.
Preface (by William Chester Jordan, 1997): Jordan surveys the book’s enthusiastic reception upon publication, citing reviews lauding it as a “great book” comparable to Maitland’s works, despite caveats about its “nimiety” (overabundance) and kaleidoscopic structure. He notes criticisms of insufficient practical politics or papal focus but emphasizes universal praise for its erudition. Jordan briefly recounts Kantorowicz’s biography—war service, anti-communism, George circle involvement, Nazi-era resignation, Berkeley oath refusal, and Princeton tenure—framing the book as a reconstruction of medieval organic unities, evolving from sacral (e.g., Louis IX) to intellectual discourses. He highlights its sustained influence, indispensable for state theory and political theology, while acknowledging ongoing debates over coherence.
Chapter 1: The Problem: Plowden’s Reports – Kantorowicz introduces the core concept via 16th-century English jurist Edmund Plowden’s reports, where Tudor lawyers articulated the king’s two bodies to resolve legal issues like land tenure and succession. The body natural is mortal and imperfect, while the body politic is immortal, invisible, and infallible, ensuring the crown’s perpetuity (e.g., “the King never dies”). He argues this fiction, defending against Maitland’s modern scorn, derives from theological dualities, adapting Christ’s two natures to secular kingship. Examples include inalienability of crown lands (nullum tempus occurrit regi) and the king’s name as a perpetual signifier, setting up a genealogical inquiry into medieval precedents.
Chapter 2: Shakespeare: King Richard II – Kantorowicz analyzes Shakespeare’s play as a literary embodiment of the two-bodies doctrine, where Richard’s deposition dramatizes the tragic separation of the mortal body from the immortal office. Richard’s soliloquies reflect the duality—his natural body suffers while the kingship endures—mirroring Tudor legal fictions. The chapter argues this reflects broader Elizabethan political theology, where the king’s fall exposes the fiction’s fragility, yet affirms the polity’s continuity. Kantorowicz links it to medieval sources like John of Salisbury, emphasizing how art crystallizes the tension between personal frailty and eternal dignity.
Chapter 3: Christ-Centered Kingship – Shifting to early medieval sacral models, Kantorowicz traces kingship as imitating Christ (christomimētēs), with rulers as gemina persona (twin-natured) via anointing, embodying divine grace. Drawing from the Norman Anonymous and Ottonian art (e.g., Aachen Gospels), he argues kings were deified by office, mediating between God and people, with dualities like rex et sacerdos (king and priest). This Christocentric view, influenced by Pseudo-Dionysius and liturgy, sacralized authority but waned as legal rationalism grew, though it persisted in symbols like the haloed king.
Chapter 4: Law-Centered Kingship – Kantorowicz examines the 12th-13th centuries’ shift to jurisprudence, where Roman law (e.g., lex regia, princeps legibus solutus) positioned the king as living law (lex animata) and justice incarnate (iustitia animata). Jurists like Bracton and Frederick II’s Liber Augustalis depict the ruler as bound yet above law, mediating divine reason and human will. The chapter argues this secularized sacrality, with justice as an eternal intermediary (mediatrix), fostering dualities like the prince’s private vs. public persona, and influencing concepts like the immortal fisc.
Chapter 5: Polity-Centered Kingship: Corpus Mysticum – Focusing on the corporate state, Kantorowicz shows how the Church’s corpus mysticum (mystical body) was politicized post-1250, especially via Aquinas and canonists. The polity becomes a perpetual organism, with the king as head of a timeless body politic, immune to death or prescription. He argues this enabled secular corporatism, where universitas (corporations) like realms or cities “never die,” drawing from Aristotelian organic metaphors and averting interregna through fictions like the eternal crown.
Chapter 6: On Continuity and the Corporations – Building on corporatism, Kantorowicz explores perpetuity via legal fictions: dignitas (office) as immortal (dignitas non moritur), akin to the phoenix or angelic aevum (time of eternals). Jurists like Baldus and Bartolus treat corporations as timeless entities, with succession ensuring continuity (e.g., nullum tempus against the king). The chapter argues this bridged theology and law, secularizing ecclesiastical models for state institutions, resolving issues like inalienability and interregna through perpetual necessities.
Chapter 7: The King Never Dies – Kantorowicz details practical manifestations, like French effigies symbolizing the immortal body at funerals, contrasting with the decaying natural one. He traces dynastic continuity (e.g., le mort saisit le vif) and legal maxims ensuring seamless succession, arguing these rituals and doctrines (e.g., the king’s name endures) mythologized immortality, influenced by Roman inheritance and Christian resurrection motifs, to maintain order amid mortality.
Chapter 8: Man-Centered Kingship: Dante – In the humanistic turn, Kantorowicz interprets Dante’s Monarchia as shifting to man-centered rule, where the world monarch actualizes humanity’s potential (universitas humana), embodying collective intellect and justice without sacral mediation. Arguing against Christ-centered models, Dante secularizes eschatology into terrestrial beatitude, with the emperor as vigor iustitiae, marking a proto-modern rationalism while retaining theological echoes.
Epilogus – Kantorowicz concludes that the king’s two bodies, an “offshoot of Christian theological thought,” landmarks political theology’s secularization from Jerusalem (Pauline corpus Christi) over Athens. He reflects on its role in sustaining myths of the state amid modern “weirdest dogmas,” urging recognition of these fictions’ initial stages for understanding power’s endurance.