I am an avid reader, and also find some interest in television and film, the former not just as a lazy exercise. Though not really a big fiction reader, I do consume enough real life narrative fare that overall I have read my fair share of narrative over the years. And, when I do, I visualize what is going on in my head. At times, it seems rather real, tangible. It is almost forgotten that these are often not real people, or if they are, I really have no reason to feel attached to them. But, I do. There is a certain connection there, involuntary in a way. It is a special thing. It is comparable to how I feel when reading nonfictional accounts of human stories. I relate with the "characters." Likewise, I try to get into the head of the "characters" who put forth different points of view. Related?
Inventing Human Rights: A History by Lynn Hunt touches upon this reality ... among other things, Hunt suggests that epistolary novels (in the form of letters) of the 18th Century was an important part in the development of such rights. Human rights generally had there qualities -- natural (inherent in human beings), equal (same for all) and universal (applicable everywhere). To have bite, they must also be accepted by political society, not just some ideal "state of nature" or religious concept. And, novels provides a means to do this -- it created a sort of "empathy" ("sympathy" or "sensibility" to those at the time) for others. Classics were favored as a means to learn morality, including fictional ones. The "modern" novel provided a more direct and shall we say up to date (the characters were often familiar ones) emotional experience.
At its core, the Constitution protects "persons." We take that word for granted, but "persons" originated from the masks worn in Greek plays. The masks were a sort of "persona" taken on by those who wore them. And, "human rights" requires that too -- to have such rights, society has to accept a sort of artificial self, an "other" in which even when thinking about ourselves we can in a fashion look at from afar. In effect, we have to formulate a sort of "character" that has a separate existence and rights. This also allows us to honor rights of those outside of our own intimate circle. We can understand things in abstract. And, feel an intimate connection as well.
Human rights after all ultimately come from within. The French philosopher Diderot noted this "interior feeling," Adam Smith spoke of "reason, principle, conscience, the inhabitant of the breast, the man within, the great judge and arbiter of our conduct." Why after all are certain truths "self-evident?" The conceit was that we as humans can use our reason to determine the law, but the early confusion of "natural law" and "natural right" (the French term could be translated either way) suggested the is/ought problem here. One influential natural law philosopher noted: "In order for a law to regulate human actions, it must absolutely accord with the nature and constitution of man and it must relate in the end to his happiness, which is what reason necessarily makes him seek out."
Jean Jacques Burlamaqui's use of "must" is in some fashion a legal fiction unless it is understood to mean what must be followed to provide our happiness. The Declaration of Rights of Man and Citizen (1789) spoke of the dangers of forgetting human rights, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948) was written by those who knew all too well said danger. Thus, the existence of such rights were assumed via "whereas" clauses, statements of what is already "resolved" and accepted. The existence was accepted to be necessary already, not created by the declaration [the word btw suggests sovereignty, originally kings and such "declared" things] itself.
But, this does not belie the premise. The fact such "law" is inexact and in some fashion vague and arbitrary does not either. "We hold these truths to be self-evident" was good enough in 1776, and it still holds true today. There are various things that grow from reason, or rather experience, and in a fashion, all law is but commentary. And, this is often an internal thing ... the Scottish philosophers that influenced our Jeffersons spoke of an internal moral sense, a conscience. Some here, including many Federalists, were wary about that, Jefferson was more optimistic. But, all accepted it in some fashion. If not, written law can be somewhat meaningless. Haiti aside, and that only by armed conflict, the French Revolution did not do away with slavery in the French colonies.
The book also discusses the move against torture, a widely accepted matter in England and France, in the latter up to the 1780s ... though Voltaire and others had by then pointed to how it was a grave violation of human rights for decades by that point. Torture was problematic on various grounds. For one, the use of the accused/convicted person (it was used both before and after conviction, in part to try to find collaborators ... apropos to Dershowitz, there also was in effect a "torture warrant") in this fashion made him/her a means, not an individual in their own right. Second, there was a growing respect of the privacy of the person and the sanctity of the body (the growth of the personal portrait was an example of the trend). The use of torture against certain dissident religious groups also brought freedom of religion to the table.
And, the secrecy also was deemed problematic, surely open to abuse. But one connection to the modern age. Overall, good book, with some interesting connections made. A suggestion that history and law is a complex thing. A reason why I like reading about them.
[BTW, Christopher Hitchens might be a jerk in some respects, but his book on Thomas Paine, part of a series that provides quick takes on various like characters, is a good read ... at least, so far.]