CLASSICS IN POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY
James Fieser
4/27/2010
Contents
Preface
1. Plato — Civil Obedience, Justice and the Ideal State (from Crito and The Republic)
2. Aristotle — The Natural Foundation of Society (from Politics)
3. Cicero — Natural Justice (from On the Commonwealth)
4. Augustine — The Earthly and Heavenly Cities (from City of God and Against Faustus)
5. Thomas Aquinas — Natural Law (from Summa Theologica and On the Governance of Rulers)
6. Dante Alighieri — World Government (from On Monarchy)
7. Thomas More — Utopia (from Utopia)
8. Niccolò Machiavelli — Political Survival (from The Prince)
9. Stephen Junius Brutus — Against Tyrants (from Vindication against Tyrants)
10. Hugo Grotius — Just War (from The Laws of War and Peace)
11. Thomas Hobbes — The State of Nature and Social Contract (from Leviathan)
12. Samuel Pufendorf — Natural Law and Society (from The Duty of Man and Citizen)
13. Baruch Spinoza — Freedom of Thought and Expression (from Theological-Political Treatise)
14. John Locke — Natural Rights (from Two Treatises of Government)
15. David Hume — The Original Contract and Artificial Justice (from “Of the Original Contract” and Enquiry)
16. Montesquieu — Small Republics, Liberty and Slavery (from The Spirit of the Laws)
*17. Jean-Jacques Rousseau — The Social Contract
18. Cesare Beccaria — The Limited Purpose of Punishment (from On Crimes and Punishments)
19. William Blackstone — Origins of Law, Rights and Property (from Commentaries on the Laws of England)
20. Adam Smith — Capitalism and Limited Government (from The Wealth of Nations)
21. U.S. Declaration of Independence
22. Alexander Hamilton and James Madison — Federalism and Domestic Faction (from The Federalist Papers)
23. Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen
24. Edmund Burke — Conservatism and Tradition (from Reflections on the Revolution in France)
25. Jeremy Bentham — Utility and Government (from A Fragment on Government, The Principles of Morals and Legislation, and Pannomial Fragment)
26. Immanuel Kant — War and Perpetual Peace (from The Fundamental Principles of Jurisprudence)
27. Mary Wollstonecraft — Rights of Women (from A Vindication of the Rights of Woman)
28. William Godwin — Justice and Impartiality (from Enquiry Concerning Political Justice)
29. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel — Lordship-Bondage and World History (from Phenomenology of Spirit and The Philosophy of Right)
30. Alexis de Tocqueville — Dangers of Democracy (from Democracy in America)
31. John Austin — Positive Law (from Lectures on Jurisprudence)
32. Herbert Spencer — The Limited Role of Government (from “The Proper Sphere of Government”)
33. Karl Marx — Alienated Labor and Communism (from Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 and The Communist Manifesto)
34. Declaration of Sentiments on Women’s Rights
35. John Stuart Mill — Liberty of Speech and Action (from On Liberty)
36. Errico Malatesta — Anarchism (from Anarchism)
37. Elizabeth Cady Stanton — Individuality and Women’s Rights (from “Solitude of Self”)
38. Emma Goldman — Anarchism (from “What I Believe”)
39. John Dewey — Society as Voluntary Associations (from Reconstruction in Philosophy)
40. United Nations General Assembly — Universal Declaration of Human Rights
41. H.L.A. Hart — Are there any Natural Rights? (from “Are there any Natural Rights”)
42. John Rawls — Justice as Fairness (from “Justice as Fairness”)
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#1
CIVIL OBEDIENCE, JUSTICE AND THE IDEAL STATE
Plato
Plato (428–348 BCE) was one of the great philosophers from ancient Greece’s golden age, and influenced virtually every area of philosophy. He lived in the city of Athens where he founded a school called the Academy, which his pupil Aristotle attended. Plato himself was a student of Socrates, and eccentric teacher who was put on trial and executed on the charges of atheism and corrupting the youth. While Socrates wrote nothing, Plato immortalized his teacher by making him the lead character in his philosophical dialogues. Below are selections from two of Plato’s works on political philosophy. First is the dialogue Crito, which discusses the issue of whether we are morally obligated to follow the laws of one’s country. The setting for this dialogue is Socrates’ prison cell, where he awaits execution. Crito, a wealthy young student of Socrates, encourages him to flee for his life. Socrates argues that all of Crito’s arguments for escaping merely reflect the “opinion of the many”; instead, Socrates’ decision should be based on the views of someone who is an expert in justice. Justice demands that he obey the state and the decision of the jury. To make his case, Socrates imagines that the laws of Athens are speaking directly to him. The laws offer two main arguments for obedience to the state. First, Athens has raised Socrates in much the way that his parents raised him, and, consequently, Socrates needs to obey the laws of Athens in much the way that children should obey their parents. Second, by consciously choosing to remain in Athens, Socrates made a contract with the city to obey its laws. The laws concludes by describing how miserable Socrates life would be if he fled to another town.
Plato made his greatest impact on political philosophy in his dialogue The Republic, which investigates the nature of justice. Again, Socrates is the lead character in this dialogue and, in the selection below, he is joined by three others: Thrasymachus a teacher of rhetoric, and Plato’s two older brothers Glaucon and Adeimantus. Thrasymachus begins the dialogue by defending the skeptical position that justice is the interest of the stronger – essentially that might makes right. According to Thrasymachus, all governments seek their own interest, and the so-called “just” person always loses to the unjust person. Socrates disagrees and argues that acting unjustly is not more beneficial than acting justly. Socrates is then opposed by another skeptically-minded inquirer named Glaucon, who was Plato’s older brother. Glaucon presents a fable about a shepherd who finds a ring that makes him invisible, which he uses it to seduce the queen, kill the king, and take over the country. This, he believes, shows that injustice is more profitable than justice. To better clarify the nature of justice, Socrates proposes that the group explore the concept of a perfect society, how it emerges, and what its necessary components are. The guiding principle behind much of the discussion is that one person cannot do many jobs with success, and so there must be a division of labor. The ideal society that he describes has three classes. First is that of the tradespeople, who are responsible for the necessities of food, shelter, clothing as well as countless luxury items. Next is the guardian class, a professional army that is responsible for protecting society. To train the best possible guardians, they need to be educated from their youth with a strict curriculum that has censored out harmful lies within literature. Third is the ruling class, who are selected from the best of the guardians and show the greatest interest in furthering the good of their country. Socrates explains that everyone must remain within their respective social classes, and attempts to move to a new one will harm society. To assure that everyone complies, rulers need to trick people into thinking that they are naturally assigned their places in the social hierarchy. Justice, in essence, amounts to everyone doing his own job within the larger social framework. Saying more about the guardians, Socrates explains how they live in a communal setting, with no property. They are selectively bred to perpetuate their best attributes, and the parents won’t know which children are theirs. As to the rulers, society will function best when the kings are philosophers who have the capacity to know absolute truths, and not just the appearances of things.
OBEDIENCE TO THE STATE (Crito)
Crito’s Argument: Why Socrates should Escape
Crito: . . . My beloved Socrates, let me beg you once more to take my advice and escape [from prison to avoid your execution]. For if you die I shall not only lose a friend who can never be replaced, but there is another evil: people who do not know you and me will believe that I might have saved you if I had been willing to give money, but that I did not care. Now, can there be a worse disgrace than this—that I should be thought to value money more than the life of a friend? For the many will not be persuaded that I wanted you to escape, and that you refused.
Socrates: But why, my dear Crito, should we care about the opinion of the many? Good men, and they are the only persons who are worth considering, will think of these things truly as they occurred.
Crito: But you see, Socrates, that the opinion of the many must be regarded, for what is now happening shows that they can do the greatest evil to anyone who has lost their good opinion.
Socrates: I only wish it were so, Crito; and that the many could do the greatest evil; for then they would also be able to do the greatest good—and what a fine thing this would be! But in reality they can do neither; for they cannot make a man either wise or foolish; and whatever they do is the result of chance.
Crito: Well, I will not dispute with you; but please tell me, Socrates, whether you are not acting out of regard to me and your other friends: are you not afraid that if you escape from prison we may get into trouble with the informers for having stolen you away, and lose either the whole or a great part of our property; or that even a worse evil may happen to us? Now, if you fear on our account, be at ease. For in order to save you, we ought surely to run this, or even a greater risk. Be persuaded, then, and do as I say.
Socrates: Yes, Crito, that is one fear which you mention, but by no means the only one.
Crito: Fear not—there are persons who are willing to get you out of prison at no great cost; and as for the informers they are far from being exorbitant in their demands—a little money will satisfy them. My means, which are certainly ample, are at your service, and if you have a scruple about spending all mine, here are strangers who will give you the use of theirs; and one of them, Simmias the Theban, has brought a large sum of money for this very purpose; and Cebes and many others are prepared to spend their money in helping you to escape. I say, therefore, do not hesitate on our account, and do not say, as you did in the court, that you will have a difficulty in knowing what to do with yourself anywhere else. For men will love you in other places to which you may go, and not in Athens only; there are friends of mine in Thessaly, if you like to go to them, who will value and protect you, and no Thessalian will give you any trouble. Nor can I think that you are at all justified, Socrates, in betraying your own life when you might be saved. In acting in that way you are playing into the hands of your enemies, who are hurrying on your destruction. And further I should say that you are deserting your own children; for you might bring them up and educate them; instead of which you go away and leave them, and they will have to take their chance; and if they do not meet with the usual fate of orphans, there will be small thanks to you. No man should bring children into the world who is unwilling to persevere to the end in their nurture and education. But you appear to be choosing the easier part, not the better and manlier, which would have been more becoming in one who professes to care for virtue in all his actions, like yourself. And indeed, I am ashamed not only of you, but of us who are your friends, when I reflect that the whole business will be attributed entirely to our lack of courage. The trial need never have come on, or might have been managed differently. This last act, or crowning folly, will seem to have occurred through our negligence and cowardice, who might have saved you, if we had been good for anything; and you might have saved yourself, for there was no difficulty at all. See now, Socrates, how sad and discreditable are the consequences, both to us and you. Make up your mind then, or rather have your mind already made up, for the time of deliberation is over, and there is only one thing to be done, which must be done this very night, and if we delay at all will be no longer practical or possible. I implore you therefore, Socrates, be persuaded by me, and do as I say.
Socrates’ Criticism
Socrates: Dear Crito, your zeal is invaluable, if a right one; but if wrong, the greater the zeal the greater the danger; and therefore we ought to consider whether I shall or shall not do as you say. . . . Is the pupil who devotes himself to the practice of gymnastics supposed to attend to the praise and blame and opinion of every man, or of one man only—his physician or trainer, whoever he may be?
Crito: Of one man only.
Socrates: And he ought to fear the criticism and welcome the praise of that one only, and not of the many?
Crito: Clearly so.
Socrates: In questions of just and unjust, fair and foul, good and evil, which are the subjects of our present consultation, ought we to follow the opinion of the many and to fear them, or, instead, the opinion of the one man who has understanding? Ought we not to fear and reverence him more than all the rest of the world? . . . Then, my friend, we must not regard what the many say of us: but what he, the one man who has understanding of just and unjust, will say, and what the truth will say. Therefore you begin in error when you advise that we should regard the opinion of the many about just and unjust, good and evil, honorable and dishonorable. . . . Consider the matter in this way. Imagine that I am about to skip town (you may call it by any name which you like), and the laws and the government come and interrogate me. “Tell us, Socrates,” they say; “what are you doing? Are you not going by an act of yours to overturn us—the laws—and the whole state, as far as you can? Do you imagine that a state can subsist and not be overthrown when the decisions of law have no power, but are set aside and trampled upon by individuals?” What will be our answer, Crito, to these and similar words? Anyone, and especially a rhetorician, will have a good deal to say on behalf of the law which requires a sentence to be carried out. He will argue that this law should not be set aside; and shall we reply, “Yes; but the state has injured us and given an unjust sentence.” Suppose I say that?
Crito: Very good, Socrates.
Athens Like a Parent to Socrates
Socrates: The law would answer, “Was that our agreement with you, or were you to abide by the sentence of the state?” If I were to express my astonishment at their words, the law would probably add: “Answer, Socrates, instead of opening your eyes; you are in the habit of asking and answering questions. Tell us: what complaint have you to make against us which justifies you in attempting to destroy us and the state? In the first place did we not bring you into existence? Your father married your mother by our aid and gave birth to you. Say whether you have any objection to urge against those of us who regulate marriage?” None, I should reply. “Or against those of us who after birth regulate the nurture and education of children, in which you also were trained? Were not the laws, which have the charge of education, right in commanding your father to train you in music and gymnastic?” Right, I should reply. “Well then, since you were brought into the world and nurtured and educated by us, can you deny in the first place that you are our child and slave, as your fathers were before you? And if this is true you are not on equal terms with us; nor can you think that you have a right to do to us what we are doing to you. Would you have any right to strike or insult or do any other evil to your father or your master, if you had one, because you have been struck or insulted by him, or received some other evil at his hands? You would not say this. And because we think it right to destroy you, do you think that you have any right to destroy us in return, and your country as far as in you lies? Will you, O professor of true virtue, pretend that you are justified in this? Has a philosopher like you failed to discover that our country is more to be valued and is higher and far more holy than mother or father or any ancestor, and more to be regarded in the eyes of the gods and of men of understanding? Also to be soothed, and gently and reverently pleaded to when angry, even more than a father, and either to be persuaded, or if not persuaded, to be obeyed? When we are punished by her, whether with imprisonment or stripes, the punishment is to be endured in silence. If she leads us to wounds or death in battle, there we follow as is right. Neither may anyone yield or retreat or leave his rank. Whether in battle or in a court of law, or in any other place, he must do what his city and his country order him. Otherwise he must change their view of what is just: and, if he may, he must do no violence to his father or mother, much less may he do violence to his country.” What answer shall we make to this, Crito? Do the laws speak truly, or do they not?
Crito: I think that they do.
Social Contract between Socrates and Athens
Socrates: Then the laws will say: “Consider, Socrates, if we are speaking truly that in your present attempt you are going to do us an injury. For, having brought you into the world, and nurtured and educated you, and given you and every other citizen a share in every good which we had to give, we further proclaim to any Athenian by the liberty which we allow him, that if he does not like us when he has become of age and has seen the ways of the city, and made our acquaintance, he may go where he pleases and take his goods with him. None of us laws will forbid him or interfere with him. Anyone who does not like us and the city, and who wants to emigrate to a colony or to any other city, may go where he likes, retaining his property. But he who has experience of the manner in which we order justice and administer the state, and still remains, has entered into an implied contract that he will do as we command him. And he who disobeys us is, as we maintain, thrice wrong: first, because in disobeying us he is disobeying his parents; secondly, because we are the authors of his education; thirdly, because he has made an agreement with us that he will duly obey our commands; and he neither obeys them nor convinces us that our commands are unjust; and we do not rudely impose them, but give him the alternative of obeying or convincing us;—that is what we offer, and he does neither. These are the sort of accusations to which, as we were saying, you, Socrates, will be exposed if you accomplish your intentions; you, above all other Athenians.”
Suppose now I ask, why me rather than anybody else? They will justly reply to me that I, more than all other men, have acknowledged the agreement. “There is clear proof,” they will say, “Socrates, that we and the city were not displeasing to you. Of all Athenians you have been the most constant resident in the city, which we may suppose that you love since you never leave it. For you never went out of the city either to see the games, except once when you went to the Isthmus, or to any other place unless when you were on military service. Nor did you travel as other men do. Nor had you any curiosity to know other states or their laws: your affections did not go beyond us and our state. We were your especial favorites, and you accepted our governing of you. Right here in this city you had your children, which is a proof of your satisfaction. Moreover, during your trial, if you had liked, you might have fixed the penalty at banishment. The state which refuses to let you go now would have let you go then. But you pretended that you preferred death to exile, and that you were not unwilling to die. And now you have forgotten these fine sentiments, and pay no respect to us the laws, of whom you are the destroyer. You are doing what only a miserable slave would do, running away and turning your back upon the compacts and agreements which you made as a citizen. Now answer this specific question: Are we right in saying that you agreed to be governed according to us in your actions, and not merely in your words? Is that true or not?” How shall we answer, Crito? Must we not assent?
Crito: We cannot help it, Socrates.
Socrates: Then will they not say: “You, Socrates, are breaking the covenants and agreements which you made with us at your leisure, but not in any haste or under any compulsion or deception. Rather,, it is after you have had seventy years to think of them, during which time you were at liberty to leave the city, if we were not to your liking, or if our covenants appeared to you to be unfair. You had your choice, and might have gone either to Lacedaemon or Crete, both which states you often praised for their good government, or to some other Greek or foreign state. Because you, above all other Athenians, seemed to be so fond of the state, or, in other words, of us her laws (and who would care about a state which has no laws?), that you never stirred out of her. The lame, the blind, the maimed were not more stationary in her than you were. But now you run away and forsake your agreements. Not so, Socrates, if you will take our advice; do not make yourself ridiculous by escaping out of the city.
Prospects for Socrates if he Flees
“For just consider, if you transgress and err in this sort of way, what good will you do either to yourself or to your friends? It is reasonably certain that your friends will be driven into exile and deprived of citizenship, or will lose their property. And you yourself, if you flee to one of the neighboring cities, as, for example, Thebes or Megara, both of which are well governed, will come to them as an enemy, Socrates, and their government will be against you, and all patriotic citizens will cast an evil eye upon you as a subverter of the laws, and you will confirm in the minds of the judges the justice of their own condemnation of you. For he who is a corrupter of the laws is more than likely to be a corrupter of the young and foolish portion of mankind. Will you then flee from well-ordered cities and virtuous men? and is existence worth having on these terms? Or will you go to them without shame, and talk to them, Socrates? And what will you say to them? What you say here about virtue and justice and institutions and laws being the best things among men? Would that be decent of you? Surely not. But if you go away from well-governed states to Crito’s friends in Thessaly, where there is great disorder and license, they will be charmed to hear the tale of your escape from prison, set off with ludicrous particulars of the manner in which you were wrapped in a goatskin or some other disguise, and metamorphosed as the manner is of runaways. But will there be no one to remind you that in your old age you were not ashamed to violate the most sacred laws from a miserable desire of a little more life? Perhaps not, if you keep them in a good temper. But if they are out of temper you will hear many degrading things; you will live, but how? As the flatterer of all men, and the servant of all men? And doing what: Eating and drinking in Thessaly, having gone abroad in order that you may get a dinner? And where will be your fine sentiments about justice and virtue? Say that you wish to live for the sake of your children—you want to bring them up and educate them—will you take them into Thessaly and deprive them of Athenian citizenship? Is this the benefit which you will confer upon them? Or are you under the impression that they will be better cared for and educated here if you are still alive, although absent from them; for your friends will take care of them? Do you fancy that if you are an inhabitant of Thessaly they will take care of them, and if you are an inhabitant of the other world that they will not take care of them? No; but if they who call themselves friends are good for anything, they will—to be sure they will.
“Listen, then, Socrates, to us who have brought you up. Think not of life and children first, and of justice afterwards, but of justice first, that you may be justified before the princes of the world below. For neither will you nor any that belong to you be happier or holier or juster in this life, or happier in another, if you do as Crito proposes. Now you depart in innocence, a sufferer and not a doer of evil; a victim, not of the laws, but of men. But if you go forth, returning evil for evil, and injury for injury, breaking the covenants and agreements which you have made with us, and wronging those whom you ought least of all to wrong, that is to say, yourself, your friends, your country, and us, we shall be angry with you while you live, and our brethren, the laws in the world below, will receive you as an enemy; for they will know that you have done your best to destroy us. Listen, then, to us and not to Crito.”
This, dear Crito, is the voice which I seem to hear murmuring in my ears, like the sound of the flute in the ears of the mystic; that voice, I say, is humming in my ears, and prevents me from hearing any other. And I know that anything more which you may say will be vain. Yet speak, if you have anything to say.
Crito: I have nothing to say, Socrates.
Socrates: Leave me then, Crito, to fulfill the will of God, and to follow where he leads.
JUSTICE AND SELF INTEREST
Whether Might makes Right (The Republic, Book 1)
Socrates: As concerning justice, what is it? Is it no more than to speak the truth and to pay your debts? Aren’t there exceptions even to these? Suppose that a friend when in his right mind has deposited weapons with me and he asks for them when he is not in his right mind, ought I to give them back to him? No one would say that I ought or that I should be right in doing so, any more than they would say that I ought always to speak the truth to one who is in his condition. . . . But then speaking the truth and paying your debts is not a correct definition of justice. . . .
Several times in the course of the discussion Thrasymachus had made an attempt to get the argument into his own hands, and had been put down by the rest of the company, who wanted to hear the end. But when Polemarchus and I were done speaking and there was a pause, he could no longer hold his peace; and, gathering himself up, he came at us like a wild animal, seeking to devour us. We were quite panic-stricken at the sight of him. . . .
Thrasymachus: I proclaim that justice is nothing else than the interest of the stronger. . . . The different forms of government make laws democratic, aristocratic, tyrannical, with a view to their several interests. These laws, which are made by them for their own interests, are the justice which they deliver to their subjects, and him who transgresses them they punish as a breaker of the law, and unjust. This is what I mean when I say that in all states there is the same principle of justice, which is the interest of the government. As the government must be supposed to have power, the only reasonable conclusion is that everywhere there is one principle of justice, which is the interest of the stronger. . . .
Socrates: When Thrasymachus had thus spoken, having, like a waterboy, deluged our ears with his words, had a mind to go away. But the company would not let him; they insisted that he should remain and defend his position; and I myself added my own humble request that he would not leave us. . . .
Then, I continued, no physician, in so far as he is a physician, considers his own good in what he prescribes, but the good of his patient. For the true physician is also a ruler having the human body as a subject, and is not a mere money-maker. Have we admitted that?
Thrasymachus: Yes.
Socrates: And the captain likewise, in the strict sense of the term, is a ruler of sailors and not a mere sailor?
Thrasymachus: That has been admitted.
Socrates: And such a captain and ruler will provide and prescribe for the interest of the sailor who is under him, and not for his own or the ruler’s interest?
He gave a reluctant “Yes.”
Then, I said, Thrasymachus, there is no one in any rule who, in so far as he is a ruler, considers or requires what is for his own interest, but always what is for the interest of his subject or suitable to his art. He looks to that, and he considers that alone in everything which he says and does.
When we had got to this point in the argument, and everyone saw that the definition of justice had been completely upset, Thrasymachus, instead of replying to me, said:
Thrasymachus: Tell me, Socrates, have you got a nurse?
Socrates: Why do you ask such a question when you ought rather to be answering?
Thrasymachus: Because she leaves you to snivel, and never wipes your nose: she has not even taught you to know the shepherd from the sheep.
Socrates: What makes you say that?
Thrasymachus: Because you imagine that the shepherd or ox herder fattens or tends the sheep or oxen with a view to their own good and not to the good of himself or his master. You further imagine that the rulers of states, if they are true rulers, never think of their subjects as sheep, and that they are not studying their own advantage day and night. Oh, no. You are so entirely misguided in your ideas about the just and unjust that you do not even know that justice and the just are in reality another’s good. That is to say, it is the interest of the ruler and stronger, and the loss of the subject and servant. Injustice is the opposite, for the unjust is lord over the truly simple and just. He is the stronger, and his subjects do what is for his interest, and minister to his happiness, which is very far from being their own. Consider further, most foolish Socrates, that the just is always a loser in comparison with the unjust. First of all, in private contracts: wherever the unjust is the partner of the just you will find that, when the partnership is dissolved, the unjust man has always more and the just less. . . .
Socrates: I am not convinced, and I do not believe that injustice is more beneficial than justice, even if uncontrolled and allowed to have free play. For, granting that there may be an unjust man who is able to commit injustice either by fraud or force, still this does not convince me of the superior advantage of injustice, and there may be others who are in the same predicament with myself. . . .
Is not the power which injustice exercises of such a nature that wherever she takes up her residence, whether in a city, in an army, in a family, or in any other body, that body is, to begin with, made incapable of united action by reason of sedition and distraction? Does it not become its own enemy and at variance with all that opposes it, and with the just? Is not this the case?
Thrasymachus: Yes, certainly.
Socrates: And is not injustice equally fatal when existing in a single person? In the first place it renders him incapable of action because he is not at unity with himself, and in the second place it makes him an enemy to himself and the just. Is not that true, Thrasymachus?
Thrasymachus: Yes. . . .
Socrates: The result of the whole discussion has been that I know nothing at all. For I know not what justice is, and therefore I am not likely to know whether it is or is not a virtue, nor can I say whether the just man is happy or unhappy.
Advantages of Injustice: The Ring of Gyges (Book 2)
Socrates: With these words I was thinking that I had made an end of the discussion; but the end, in truth, proved to be only a beginning. For Glaucon, who is always the most confrontational person, was unhappy that Thrasymachus left, and he wanted to continue the battle. So he said to me:
Glaucon: Socrates, do you wish really to persuade us, or only to seem to have persuaded us, that to be just is always better than to be unjust?
Socrates: I should wish really to persuade you if I could.
Glaucon: Then you certainly have not succeeded. . . . I shall begin by speaking, as I proposed, of the nature and origin of justice.
They say that to do injustice is good by nature, and to suffer injustice, evil; but that the evil is greater than the good. So when men have both done and suffered injustice and have had experience of both, not being able to avoid the one and obtain the other, they think that they had better agree among themselves to have neither. Hence there arise laws and mutual covenants. That which is ordained by law is termed by them lawful and just. This they affirm to be the origin and nature of justice; it is a mean or compromise, between the best of all, which is to do injustice and not be punished, and the worst of all, which is to suffer injustice without the power of retaliation; and justice, being at a middle point between the two, is tolerated not as a good, but as the lesser evil, and honored by reason of the inability of men to do injustice. For no man who is worthy to be called a man would ever submit to such an agreement if he were able to resist; he would be mad if he did. This, Socrates, is the common explanation of the nature and origin of justice.
Now that those who practice justice do so involuntarily and because they have not the power to be unjust will best appear if we imagine something of this kind. Having given both to the just and the unjust power to do what they will, let us watch and see where desire will lead them. Then we shall discover in the very act the just and unjust man to be proceeding along the same road, following their interest, which all natures believe to be their good, and are only diverted into the path of justice by the force of law. The liberty which we are supposing may be most completely given to them in the form of such a power as is said to have been possessed by Gyges, the ancestor of Croesus the Lydian. According to the tradition, Gyges was a shepherd in the service of the King of Lydia. There was a great storm, and an earthquake made an opening in the earth at the place where he was feeding his flock. Amazed at the sight, he climbed down into the opening, where, among other wonders, he saw a hollow brazen horse, having doors, at which he, stooping and looking in, saw a large dead body, as appeared to him, more than human and having nothing on but a gold ring. He removed it from the finger of the dead and climbed back out. Now the shepherds met together, according to custom, so that they might send their monthly report about the flocks to the King. He came into their assembly with the ring on his finger, and as he was sitting among them he happened to turn the sleeve of the ring inside his hand, when instantly he became invisible to the rest of the company and they began to speak of him as if he were no longer present. He was astonished at this, and, again touching the ring, he turned the ring’s sleeve outward and reappeared. He made several experiments with the ring, and always with the same result. When he turned the ring’s sleeve inward he became invisible, when outward he reappeared. After this he schemed to be chosen one of the messengers who were sent to the court. As soon as he arrived he seduced the Queen, and with her help conspired against the King, killed him and took the kingdom.
Suppose now that there were two such magic rings, and the just put on one of them and the unjust the other. No man can be imagined to be of such an iron nature that he would stand fast in justice. No man would keep his hands off what was not his own when he could safely take what he liked out of the market, or go into houses and lie with anyone at his pleasure, or kill or release from prison whom he would, and in all respects be like a god among men. Then the actions of the just would be as the actions of the unjust: they would both eventually come to the same point. This we may truly affirm to be a great proof that a man is just, not willingly or because he thinks that justice is any good to him individually, but of necessity. For wherever anyone thinks that he can safely be unjust, there he is unjust. For all men believe in their hearts that injustice is far more profitable to the individual than justice, and he who argues as I have been supposing, will say that they are right. If you could imagine anyone obtaining this power of becoming invisible, and never doing any wrong or touching what was another’s, he would be thought by the observer to be a most wretched idiot, although they would praise him to one another’s faces, and keep up appearances with one another from a fear that they too might suffer injustice. . . .
Socrates: Glaucon and the rest begged me by all means not to let the question drop, but to proceed in the investigation. They wanted to arrive at the truth, first, about the nature of justice and injustice, and secondly, about their relative advantages. I told them what I really thought, that the inquiry would be of a serious nature, and would require very good eyes.
Seeing then, I said, that we are no great wits, I think that we had better adopt a method which I may illustrate thus; suppose that a short-sighted person had been asked by someone to read small letters from a distance; and it occurred to someone else that they might be found in another place which was larger and in which the letters were larger—if they were the same and he could read the larger letters first, and then proceed to the lesser—this would have been thought a rare piece of good fortune.
Adeimantus: Very true. But how does the illustration apply to our inquiry?
Socrates: I will tell you. Justice, which is the subject of our inquiry, is, as you know, sometimes spoken of as the virtue of an individual, and sometimes as the virtue of a State.
Adeimantus: True.
Socrates: And is not a State larger than an individual?
Adeimantus: It is.
Socrates: Then in the larger the quantity of justice is likely to be larger and more easily discernible. I propose therefore that we inquire into the nature of justice and injustice, first as they appear in the State, and secondly in the individual, proceeding from the greater to the lesser and comparing them.
Adeimantus: That is an excellent proposal.
Socrates: And if we imagine the State in the process of creation, we shall see the justice and injustice of the State in the process of creation also.
Adeimantus: I dare say.
Socrates: When the State is completed there may be a hope that the object of our search will be more easily discovered.
Adeimantus: Yes, far more easily.
Socrates: But ought we to attempt to construct one? To do so, as I am inclined to think, will be a very serious task. Think about this.
Adeimantus: I have thought about this, and am anxious that you should proceed.
THREE SOCIAL CLASSES
Emergence of the Tradespeople Class (Book 2)
Socrates: A State arises, as I conceive, out of the needs of mankind. No one is self-sufficing, but all of us have many wants. Can any other origin of a State be imagined?
Adeimantus: There can be no other.
Socrates: Then, as we have many wants, and many persons are needed to supply them, one takes a helper for one purpose and another for another; and when these partners and helpers are gathered together in one habitation the body of inhabitants is termed a State.
Adeimantus: True.
Socrates: And they exchange with one another, and one gives, and another receives, under the idea that the exchange will be for their good.
Adeimantus: Very true.
Socrates: Then let us begin and create in idea a State; and yet the true creator is necessity, who is the mother of our invention.
Adeimantus: Of course.
Socrates: Now the first and greatest of necessities is food, which is the condition of life and existence.
Adeimantus: Certainly.
Socrates: The second is a dwelling, and the third clothing and the like.
Adeimantus: True.
Socrates: And now let us see how our city will be able to supply this great demand. We may suppose that one man is a husbandman, another a builder, someone else a weaver. Shall we add to them a shoemaker, or perhaps some other purveyor to our bodily wants?
Adeimantus: Quite right.
Socrates: The barest notion of a State must include four or five men.
Adeimantus: Clearly.
Socrates: And how will they proceed? Will each bring the result of his labors into a common collection? Will the individual husbandman, for example, produce for four, and labor four times as long and as much as he needs to provide the food with which he supplies others as well as himself? Or will he have nothing to do with others and not bother producing for them, but provide only for himself a fourth of the food in a fourth of the time, and in the remaining three-fourths of his time be employed in making a house or a coat or a pair of shoes, having no partnership with others, but supplying himself all his own wants?
Adeimantus thought that he should aim at producing food only and not at producing everything.
Probably that would be the better way. When I hear you say this, I am myself reminded that we are not all alike. There are diversities of natures among us which are adapted to different occupations.
Adeimantus: Very true. . . .
Socrates: Then more than four citizens will be required; for the husbandman will not make his own plough or hoe, or other implements of agriculture, if they are to be good for anything. Neither will the builder make his tools—and he too needs many; and in like manner the weaver and shoemaker.
Adeimantus: True.
Socrates: Then carpenters, and smiths, and many other artisans, will be sharers in our little State, which is already beginning to grow?
Adeimantus: True.
Socrates: Yet even if we add ox herders, shepherds, and other herdsmen, in order that our husbandmen may have oxen to plough with, and builders as well as husbandmen may have draught cattle, and curriers and weavers fleeces and hides,—still our State will not be very large.
Adeimantus: That is true; yet neither will it be a very small State which contains all these.
Socrates: Then, again, there is the situation of the city—to find a place where nothing need be imported is nearly impossible.
Adeimantus: Impossible.
Socrates: Then there must be another class of citizens who will bring the required supply from another city?
Adeimantus: There must.
Socrates: But if the trader goes empty-handed, having nothing which they require who would supply his need, he will come back empty-handed.
Adeimantus: That is certain.
Socrates: And therefore what they produce at home must be not only enough for themselves, but such both in quantity and quality as to accommodate those from whom their wants are supplied.
Adeimantus: Very true.
Socrates: Then more husbandmen and more artisans will be required?
Adeimantus: They will.
Socrates: Not to mention the importers and exporters, who are called merchants?
Adeimantus: Yes.
Socrates: Then we shall want merchants?
Adeimantus: We shall.
Socrates: And if merchandise is to be carried over the sea, skilful sailors will also be needed, and in considerable numbers?
Adeimantus: Yes, in considerable numbers.
Socrates: Then, again, within the city, how will they exchange their productions? To secure such an exchange was, as you will remember, one of our principal objects when we formed them into a society and constituted a State.
Adeimantus: Clearly they will buy and sell.
Socrates: Then they will need a marketplace, and a money-token for purposes of exchange.
Adeimantus: Certainly.
Socrates: Suppose now that a husbandman, or an artisan, brings some production to market, and he comes at a time when there is no one to exchange with him,—is he to leave his calling and sit idle in the marketplace?
Adeimantus: Not at all. He will find people there who, seeing the want, undertake the office of salesmen. In well-ordered states they are commonly those who are the weakest in bodily strength, and therefore of little use for any other purpose. Their duty is to be in the market, and to give money in exchange for goods to those who desire to sell and to take money from those who desire to buy.
Socrates: This want, then, creates a class of retail-traders in our State. Is not ‘retailer’ the term which is applied to those who sit in the market-place engaged in buying and selling, while those who wander from one city to another are called merchants?
Adeimantus: Yes.
Socrates: And there is another class of servants, who are intellectually hardly on the level of companionship. Still they have plenty of bodily strength for labor, which accordingly they sell, and are called, if I do not mistake, hirelings, hire being the name which is given to the price of their labor.
Adeimantus: True.
Socrates: Then hirelings will help to make up our population?
Adeimantus: Yes.
Socrates: And now, Adeimantus, is our State matured and perfected?
Adeimantus: I think so.
Socrates: Where, then, is justice, and where is injustice, and in what part of the State did they spring up?
Adeimantus: Probably in the dealings of these citizens with one another. I cannot imagine that they are more likely to be found anywhere else.
Socrates: I dare say that you are right in your suggestion. We had better think the matter out, and not shrink from the inquiry.
Adeimantus: Let us then consider, first of all, what will be their way of life, now that we have thus established them. . . . For I suspect that many will not be satisfied with the simpler way of life. They will be for adding sofas, and tables, and other furniture; also dainties, and perfumes, and incense, and courtesans, and cakes, all these not of one sort only, but in every variety; we must go beyond the necessities of which I was at first speaking, such as houses, and clothes, and shoes: the arts of the painter and the embroiderer will have to be set in motion, and gold and ivory and all sorts of materials must be acquired.
Adeimantus: True.
Socrates: Then we must enlarge our borders; for the original healthy State is no longer sufficient. Now will the city have to fill and swell with a multitude of callings which are not required by any natural want. . . . And the country which was enough to support the original inhabitants will be too small now, and not enough?
Adeimantus: Quite true.
Socrates: Then a slice of our neighbours’ land will be wanted by us for pasture and tillage, and they will want a slice of ours, if, like ourselves, they exceed the limit of necessity, and give themselves up to the unlimited accumulation of wealth?
Adeimantus: That, Socrates, will be inevitable.
Socrates: And so we shall go to war, Glaucon. Shall we not?
Glaucon: Most certainly
Socrates: Then without determining as yet whether war does good or harm, thus much we may affirm, that now we have discovered war to be derived from causes which are also the causes of almost all the evils in States, private as well as public.
Glaucon: Undoubtedly.
Need for the Guardian Class and Censorship in their Education (Book 2)
Socrates: And our State must once more enlarge. This time the enlargement will be nothing short of a whole army, which will have to go out and fight with the invaders for all that we have, as well as for the things and persons whom we were describing above.
Glaucon: Why? Are they not capable of defending themselves?
Socrates: No, not if we were right in the principle which was acknowledged by all of us when we were framing the State. The principle, as you will remember, was that one man cannot practice many arts with success.
Glaucon: Very true.
Socrates: But is not war an art?
Certainly. . . .
Glaucon: Socrates: And the higher are the duties of the guardian the more time, and skill, and art, and application will be needed by him?
Glaucon: No doubt.
Socrates: Will he not also require natural aptitude for his calling?
Glaucon: Certainly. . . .
And what shall be their education? Can we find a better than the traditional sort? And this has two divisions: gymnastics for the body, and music for the soul.
Glaucon: True.
Socrates: Shall we begin education with music, and go on to gymnastics afterwards?
Glaucon: By all means.
Socrates: When you speak of music, do you include literature or not?
Glaucon: I do.
Socrates: And literature may be either true or false?
Glaucon: Yes. . . .
Socrates: Shall we just carelessly allow children to hear any casual tales which may be devised by casual persons, and to receive into their minds ideas for the most part the very opposite of those which we should wish them to have when they are grown up?
Adeimantus: We cannot.
Socrates: Then the first thing will be to establish a censorship of the writers of fiction, and let the censors receive any tale of fiction which is good, and reject the bad. We will desire mothers and nurses to tell their children the authorized ones only. Let them fashion the mind with such tales, even more fondly than they mold the body with their hands. But most of those which are now in use must be discarded.
Adeimantus: Of what tales are you speaking?
Socrates: You may find a model of the lesser in the greater; for they are necessarily of the same type, and there is the same spirit in both of them.
Adeimantus: Very likely. But I do not as yet know what you would term the greater.
Socrates: Those which are narrated by Homer and Hesiod, and the rest of the poets, who have ever been the great storytellers of mankind.
Adeimantus: Which stories do you mean, and what fault do you find with them?
Socrates: A fault which is most serious. The fault of telling a lie, and, what is more, a bad lie.
Adeimantus: But when is this fault committed?
Socrates: Whenever an erroneous representation is made of the nature of gods and heroes – such as when a painter paints a portrait not having the shadow of a likeness to the original.
Adeimantus: Yes, that sort of thing is certainly very blamable. But what are the stories which you mean?
Socrates: First of all, there was that greatest of all lies in high places, which the poet told about Uranus, and which was a bad lie too -- I mean what Hesiod says that Uranus did, and how [his son] Cronus retaliated on him [by castrating Uranus]. The doings of Cronus, and the sufferings which in turn his son [Zeus] inflicted upon him, even if they were true, ought certainly not to be lightly told to young and thoughtless persons. If possible, they had better be buried in silence. But if there is an absolute necessity for their mention, a chosen few might hear them in a mystery. . . . If we mean our future guardians to regard the habit of quarrelling among themselves as of all things the basest, neither should any word be said to them of the wars in heaven, and of the plots and fighting of the gods against one another, for they are not true. No, we shall never mention the battles of the giants, or let them be embroidered on clothing. We shall be silent about the innumerable other quarrels of gods and heroes with their friends and relatives. If they would only believe us we would tell them that quarrelling is unholy, and that never up to this time has there been any quarrel between citizens. This is what old men and old women should begin by telling children; and when they grow up, the poets also should be told to compose them in a similar spirit. Consider the narrative of Hephaestus binding Hera his mother, or how on another occasion Zeus sent him flying for taking her part when she was being beaten, and all the battles of the gods in Homer. These tales must not be admitted into our State, whether they are supposed to have an allegorical meaning or not. For a young person cannot judge what is allegorical and what is literal. Anything that he receives into his mind at that age is likely to become permanent and unalterable. Therefore it is most important that the tales which the young first hear should be models of virtuous thoughts. . . .
Selecting the Ruling Class (Book 3)
Socrates: What is the next question? Must we not ask who are to be rulers and who subjects?
Glaucon: Certainly.
Socrates: There can be no doubt that the elder must rule the younger.
Glaucon: Clearly.
Socrates: And that the best of these must rule.
Glaucon: That is also clear.
Socrates: Now, are not the best husbandmen those who are most devoted to husbandry?
Glaucon: Yes.
Socrates: And as we are to have the best of guardians for our city, must they not be those who have most the character of guardians?
Glaucon: Yes.
Socrates: And to this end they ought to be wise and efficient, and to have a special care of the State?
Glaucon: True.
Socrates: And a man will be most likely to care about that which he loves?
Glaucon: To be sure.
Socrates: And he will be most likely to love that which he regards as having the same interests with himself, and that of which the good or evil fortune is supposed by him at any time most to affect his own?
Glaucon: Very true.
Socrates: Then there must be a selection. Let us note among the guardians those who in their whole life show the greatest eagerness to do what is for the good of their country, and the greatest repugnance to do what is against her interests.
Glaucon: Those are the right men.
Socrates: And they will have to be watched at every age, in order that we may see whether they preserve their resolution, and never, under the influence either of force or enchantment, forget or cast off their sense of duty to the State. . . . Therefore, as I was just now saying, we must inquire who are the best guardians of their own conviction that what they think the interest of the State is to be the rule of their lives. We must watch them from their youth upwards, and make them perform actions in which they are most likely to forget or to be deceived, and he who remembers and is not deceived is to be selected, and he who fails in the trial is to be rejected. That will be the way?
Glaucon: Yes.
Socrates: And there should also be toils and pains and conflicts prescribed for them, in which they will be made to give further proof of the same qualities.
Glaucon: Very right.
Socrates: And then we must try them with enchantments—that is the third sort of test—and see what will be their behavior. Similar to those who take colts amidst noise and tumult to see if they are of a timid nature, so too must we take our youth amidst terrors of some kind, and again pass them into pleasures, and prove them more thoroughly than gold is proved in the furnace. In this way we may discover whether they are armed against all enchantments, and of a noble bearing always, good guardians of themselves and of the music which they have learned, and retaining under all circumstances a rhythmical and harmonious nature, such as will be most serviceable to the individual and to the State. And he who at every age, as boy and youth and in mature life, has come out of the trial victorious and pure, shall be appointed a ruler and guardian of the State. He shall be honored in life and death, and shall receive sepulture and other memorials of honor, the greatest that we have to give. But him who fails, we must reject. I am inclined to think that this is the sort of way in which our rulers and guardians should be chosen and appointed. I speak generally, and not with any pretension to exactness.
Glaucon: And speaking generally, I agree with you.
Socrates: Perhaps the word “guardian” in the fullest sense ought to be applied to this higher class only who preserve us against foreign enemies and maintain peace among our citizens at home, that the one may not have the will, or the others the power, to harm us. The young men whom we before called guardians may be more properly designated auxiliaries and supporters of the principles of the rulers.
Glaucon: I agree with you.
THE NATURE OF JUSTICE
The Noble Lie: Staying Within one’s Class (Book 3)
Socrates: How then may we devise one of those necessary falsehoods of which we lately spoke—just one noble lie which may deceive the rulers, if that is possible, and at any rate the rest of the city?
Glaucon: What sort of lie?
Socrates: Nothing new, only an old Phoenician tale of what has often occurred before now in other places, (as the poets say, and have made the world believe,) though not in our time, and I do not know whether such an event could ever happen again, or could now even be made probable, if it did.
Glaucon: How your words seem to hesitate on your lips!
Socrates: You will not wonder at my hesitation when you have heard.
Glaucon: Speak, and fear not.
Socrates: Well then, I will speak, although I really know not how to look you in the face, or in what words to utter the bold fiction, which I propose to communicate gradually, first to the rulers, then to the soldiers, and lastly to the people. They are to be told that their youth was a dream, and the education and training which they received from us was only an illusion. In reality, during all that time they were being formed and fed in the womb of the earth, where they themselves and their arms and bits and pieces were manufactured. When they were completed, the earth, their mother, sent them up. Since their country, then, is really their mother and also their nurse, they are bound to advise for her good, and to defend her against attacks. They are to regard their citizens as children of the earth and their own brothers.
Glaucon: You had good reason to be ashamed of the lie which you were going to tell.
Socrates: True, but there is more coming. I have only told you half. “Citizens,” we will say to them in our tale, “you are brothers, yet God has framed you differently. Some of you have the power of command, and in the composition of these God has mingled gold, for which reason they have the greatest honor. Others God has made of silver, to be warriors. Others again who are to be farmers and tradespeople he has composed of brass and iron. Generally, the species will be preserved in their children. But since all people are of the same original stock, a golden parent will sometimes have a silver son, or a silver parent a golden son. And God proclaims as a first principle to the rulers, and above all else, that there is nothing which they should so anxiously guard, or of which they are to be such good guardians, as the purity of the race. They should observe what elements mingle in their offspring. If the son of a golden or silver parent has a mixture of brass and iron, then nature orders a transposition of ranks, and the eye of the ruler must not be sympathetic towards the child because he has to move down in the social scale and become a farmer or tradesperson. Similarly, there may be sons of tradespeople who having a mixture of gold or silver in them are raised to honor, and become guardians or warriors. For a prophecy says that when a man of brass or iron guards the State, it will be destroyed.” Such is the tale. Is there any possibility of making our citizens believe in it?
Glaucon: Not in the present generation; there is no way of accomplishing this. But their sons may be made to believe in the tale, and their sons’ sons, and posterity after them.
Socrates: I see the difficulty. Yet the fostering of such a belief will make them care more for the city and for one another. . . .
Justice as Doing One’s Own Business (Book 4)
Socrates: Well then, tell me whether I am right or not. You remember the original principle which we were always laying down at the foundation of the State, that one man should practice one thing only, the thing to which his nature was best adapted. Now justice is this principle, or at least a part of it.
Glaucon: Yes, we often said that one man should do one thing only.
Socrates: Further, we affirmed that justice was doing one’s own business, and not being a busybody. We said so again and again, and many others have said the same to us.
Glaucon: Yes, we said so.
Socrates: Then to do one’s own business in a certain way may be assumed to be justice. Can you tell me from what I derive this inference?
Glaucon: I cannot, but I should like to be told.
Socrates: Because I think that this is the only virtue which remains in the State when the other virtues of temperance and courage and wisdom are abstracted. This is the ultimate cause and condition of the existence of all of them, and while remaining in them is also their preservative. We were saying that if the three were discovered by us, justice would be the fourth or remaining one.
Glaucon: That necessarily follows.
Socrates: If we are asked to determine which of these four virtues by its presence contributes most to the excellence of the State, the question is not so easily answered. That is, should the award go to the agreement of rulers and subjects [i.e., temperance]; or to the preservation in the soldiers of the opinion which the law ordains about the true nature of dangers [i.e., courage], or wisdom and watchfulness in the rulers [i.e., wisdom]; or whether this other which I am mentioning, (which is found in children and women, slave and freeman, artisan, ruler, subject), I mean the virtue of everyone doing his own work, and not being a busybody [i.e., justice]?
Glaucon: Certainly, there would be a difficulty in saying which.
Socrates: Then the power of each individual in the State to do his own work appears to compete with the other political virtues, wisdom, temperance, courage.
Glaucon: Yes.
Socrates: And the virtue which enters into this competition is justice?
Glaucon: Exactly.
Socrates: Let us look at the question from another point of view. Are not the rulers in a State those to whom you would entrust the office of determining law suits?
Glaucon: Certainly.
Socrates: And are law suits decided on any other ground but that a man may neither take what is another’s, nor be deprived of what is his own?
Glaucon: Yes; that is their principle.
Socrates: Which is a just principle?
Glaucon: Yes.
Socrates: Then on this view we will recognize that justice is the having and doing what is a person’s own, and belongs to him?
Glaucon: Very true.
Socrates: Consider this, now, and say whether you agree with me or not. Suppose that a carpenter does the business of a cobbler, or a cobbler of a carpenter. Suppose they exchange their implements or their duties, or the same person does the work of both, or whatever be the change. Do you think that any great harm would result to the State?
Socrates: Not much.
Glaucon: Suppose that the cobbler or any other man whom nature designed to be a tradesperson, has his heart lifted up by wealth or strength or the number of his followers, or any like advantage, and attempts to force his way into the class of warriors. Suppose a warrior moves into that of legislators and guardians, for which he is unfitted, and either to take the implements or the duties of the other. Suppose that one man is a tradesperson, legislator, and warrior all in one. I think you will agree with me in saying that this interchange and this meddling of one with another is the ruin of the State.
Glaucon: Most true.
Socrates: Considering, then, that there are three distinct classes, any meddling of one with another, or the change of one into another, is the greatest harm to the State, and may be most justly termed evil-doing?
Glaucon: Precisely.
Socrates: And the greatest degree of evil-doing to one’s own city would be termed by you injustice?
Glaucon: Certainly.
Socrates: This then is injustice. And on the other hand when the trader, the auxiliary, and the guardian each do their own business, that is justice, and will make the city just.
Glaucon: I agree with you.
MORE ON THE GUARDIANS AND RULERS
Selective Breeding of the Guardians (Book 5)
Socrates: The law which is the sequel of this and of all that has preceded, is to the following effect: “that the wives of our guardians are to be common, and their children are to be common, and no parent is to know his own child, nor any child his parent.” . . . First, I think that if our rulers and their guardian auxiliaries are to be worthy of the name which they bear, there must be willingness to obey among the guardians and the power of command in the rulers. The guardians must themselves obey the laws, and they must also imitate the spirit of them in any details which are entrusted to their care.
Glaucon: That is right.
Socrates: You who are their legislator, having selected the men, will now select the women and give them to them. They must be as far as possible of like natures with them; and they must live in common houses and meet at common meals. None of them will have anything specially his or her own; they will be together, and will be brought up together, and will associate at gymnastic exercises. And so they will be drawn by a necessity of their natures to have sex with each other. Necessity is not too strong a word, I think?
Glaucon: Yes: necessity, not geometrical, but another sort of necessity which lovers know, and which is far more convincing and constraining to the mass of mankind.
Socrates: True. This, Glaucon, like all the rest, must proceed after an orderly fashion; in a city of the blessed, recklessness is an unholy thing which the rulers will forbid.
Glaucon: Yes, and it ought not to be permitted.
Socrates: Then clearly the next thing will be to make marriage sacred in the highest degree, and what is most beneficial will be deemed sacred?
Glaucon: Exactly.
Socrates: And how can marriages be made most beneficial? That is a question which I put to you, because I see in your house dogs for hunting, and quite a few distinguished type of birds. Now, I ask you, have you ever attended to their pairing and breeding?
Glaucon: In what particulars?
Socrates: Why, in the first place, although they are all of a good sort, are not some better than others?
Glaucon: True.
Socrates: And do you breed from them all indifferently, or do you take care to breed from the best only?
Glaucon: From the best. . . .
Socrates: Good heavens, my dear friend! What supreme skill will our rulers need if the same principle holds of the human species! . . . Our rulers will find that a considerable dose of falsehood and deceit necessary for the good of their subjects: we were saying that the use of all these things regarded as medicines might be of advantage. . . . The principle has been already laid down that the best of either sex should be united with the best as often, and the inferior with the inferior, as seldom as possible; and that they should rear the offspring of the one sort of union, but not of the other, if the flock is to be maintained in first-rate condition. Now these goings on must be a secret which the rulers only know, or there will be a further danger of our herd, as the guardians may be termed, breaking out into rebellion.
Glaucon: Very true.
Socrates: Had we not better appoint certain festivals at which we will bring together the brides and bridegrooms, and sacrifices will be offered and suitable hymeneal songs composed by our poets. The number of weddings is a matter which must be left to the discretion of the rulers, whose aim will be to preserve the average of population? There are many other things which they will have to consider, such as the effects of wars and diseases and any similar agencies, in order as far as this is possible to prevent the State from becoming either too large or too small.
Glaucon: Certainly.
Socrates: We shall have to invent some ingenious kind of lottery which the less worthy may draw on each occasion of our bringing them together, and then they will accuse their own ill-luck and not the rulers.
Glaucon: To be sure.
Socrates: And I think that our braver and better youth, besides their other honours and rewards, might have greater facilities of intercourse with women given them; their bravery will be a reason, and such fathers ought to have as many sons as possible.
Glaucon: True.
Socrates: And the proper officers, whether male or female or both, for offices are to be held by women as well as by men.
Glaucon: Yes.
Socrates: The proper officers will take the offspring of the good parents to the pen or fold, and there they will deposit them with certain nurses who dwell in a separate quarter; but the offspring of the inferior, or of the better when they chance to be deformed, will be put away in some mysterious, unknown place, as they should be.
Glaucon: Yes, that must be done if the breed of the guardians is to be kept pure.
Socrates: They will provide for their nurture, and will bring the mothers to the fold when they are full of milk, taking the greatest possible care that no mother recognizes her own child; and other wet-nurses may be engaged if more are required. Care will also be taken that the process of suckling shall not be protracted too long; and the mothers will have no getting up at night or other trouble, but will hand over all this sort of thing to the nurses and attendants. . . . A woman at twenty years of age may begin to bear children to the State, and continue to bear them until forty; a man may begin at twenty-five when he has passed the point at which the pulse of life beats quickest, and continue to produce children until he is fifty-five. . . . The law will apply to anyone of those within the prescribed age who forms a connection with any woman in the prime of life without the sanction of the rulers. For we shall say that he is raising up a bastard to the State, uncertified and unconsecrated.
Glaucon: Very true.
Socrates: This applies, however, only to those who are within the specified age. After that we allow them to range at will, except that a man may not marry his daughter or his daughter’s daughter, or his mother or his mother’s mother; and women, on the other hand, are prohibited from marrying their sons or fathers, or son’s son or father’s father, and so on in either direction. And we grant all this, accompanying the permission with strict orders to prevent any embryo which may come into being from seeing the light. If any force a way to the birth, the parents must understand that the offspring of such a union cannot be maintained, and arrange accordingly.
Glaucon: That also is a reasonable proposition. But how will they know who are fathers and daughters, and so on?
Socrates: They will never know. . . .
The Philosopher-King (Book 5)
Socrates: I think that there might be a reform of the State if only one change were made, which is not a slight or easy one, though is still possible. . . . “Until philosophers are kings, or the kings and princes of this world have the spirit and power of philosophy, and political greatness and wisdom meet in one, and those more common natures who pursue either to the exclusion of the other are compelled to stand aside, cities will never have rest from their evils – no, nor the human race, as I believe. Only then will our State have a possibility of life and see the light of day.” Such was the thought, my dear Glaucon, which I would gladly have uttered if it had not seemed too extravagant. For it is indeed a hard thing to be convinced that in no other State can there be happiness private or public.
Glaucon: Socrates, what do you mean? I would have you consider that the word which you have said is one at which many people, and very respectable persons too [will be outraged]. . . .
Socrates: We must explain to them whom we mean when we say that philosophers are to rule in the State, then we shall be able to defend ourselves. There will be discovered to be some natures who ought to study philosophy and to be leaders in the State, and others who are not born to be philosophers, and are meant to be followers rather than leaders. . . . He who dislikes learning, especially in youth, when he has no power of judging what is good and what is not, such a one we maintain not to be a philosopher or a lover of knowledge, just as he who refuses his food is not hungry, and may be said to have a bad appetite and not a good one?
Glaucon: Very true.
Socrates: Whereas he who has a taste for every sort of knowledge and who is curious to learn and is never satisfied, may be justly termed a philosopher? Am I not right?
Glaucon: If curiosity makes a philosopher, you will find that many strange creatures will have a title to the name. All the lovers of sights have a delight in learning, and must therefore be included. . . .
Socrates: The lovers of sounds and sights are, as I conceive, fond of fine tones and colors and forms and all the artificial products that are made out of them, but their mind is incapable of seeing or loving absolute beauty.
Glaucon: True.
Socrates: Few are they who are able to gain the sight of this.
Glaucon: Very true.
Socrates: And he who, having a sense of beautiful things has no sense of absolute beauty, or who, if another leads him to a knowledge of that beauty is unable to follow—of such a one I ask, Is he awake or in a dream only? Consider: is not the dreamer (sleeping or waking) someone one who equates dissimilar things, who puts the copy in the place of the real object?
Glaucon: I should certainly say that such a person was dreaming.
Socrates: But take the case of the other, who recognizes the existence of absolute beauty and is able to distinguish the idea from the objects which participate in the idea, neither putting the objects in the place of the idea nor the idea in the place of the objects—is he a dreamer, or is he awake?
Glaucon: He is wide awake.
Socrates: And may we not say that the mind of the one who knows has knowledge, and that the mind of the other, who imagines only, has opinion?
Glaucon: Certainly.
Source: Plato, Crito and The Republic, Books 1-5, tr. Benjamin Jowett.
Questions for Review
1. Crito gives four or so arguments for why Socrates should flee Athens. What are they?
2. What is Socrates argument against the views of the many?
3. What is the argument that the laws presents regarding obligation towards one’s parents?
4. According to the laws, what specifically did Socrates do to contractually bind himself to the city of Athens?
5. At the close of the dialogue, the laws describes five or so negative consequences of Socrates fleeing to another city. What are they?
6. In the Republic, according to Thrasymachus, justice is merely the interest of the stronger. What examples does he give to make his case?
7. According to Glaucon, what is the standard explanation of justice?
8. Explain how the production of luxury items expands the size of society.
9. Give examples of the stories in Hesiod’s and Homer’s writings that need to be censored from young guardians.
10. In what ways should potential rulers be tested to see if they are suitable as leaders?
11. List and describe the four virtues of a state.
12. Describe the selective breading process of the guardians.
13. According to Socrates, philosopher-kings have the capacity to see absolute beauty. What kind of beauty, by contrast, do ordinary people perceive?
Questions for Analysis
1. What’s so bad about the opinions of the many, particularly regarding the issue of fleeing a city to avoid execution?
2. Socrates argues that we should follow the views of experts, such as horse trainers, and particularly experts in justice. Are there really “experts” in justice, and who might they be?
3. Evaluate the laws’ argument based on obligation towards one’s parents.
4. Under what conditions might (or might not) a person enter into a contractually binding agreement with his/her country?
5. The dialogue opens with Crito presenting arguments for why Socrates should escape. The arguments are pragmatic in nature, and Socrates rejects them for merely reflecting the views of the many. At the close of the dialogue, the laws presents arguments that are also pragmatic. Do these too reflect the views of the many, or is there an underlying difference between the two sets of arguments?
6. According to Thrasymachus, the so-called “just” person always loses to the unjust person. Does this adequately prove that justice is merely the interest of the stronger? Explain.
7. Glaucon speculates that if a just person got hold of Gyges’ ring, he’d do the same thing that an unjust person would. Do you agree? Explain.
8. Plato defends the censoring of literature that guardian youth are exposed to. Is this censorship restricted to the young, or does it impact adults in society too? In either case, is the censorship he describes justifiable?
9. Throughout the Republic, Plato draws on the principle that one person should practice one thing only, the thing to which his nature was best adapted. Does he over-apply this principle?
10. Plato’s conception of selective breeding: good idea or bad?
11. On two occasions Plato maintains that rulers need to be deceitful when devising social policy, one regarding the myth of the three metals, and the other regarding the secrecy of selective breeding. Is this kind of deceit justifiable?
12. The distinguishing feature of the philosopher-king is that he has knowledge of absolute truths such as beauty (i.e., the “forms” in Plato’s theory of knowledge). Would knowledge of absolute truths be a real advantage to a ruler? Explain.
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#2
THE NATURAL FOUNDATION OF SOCIETY
Aristotle
Aristotle (384–322 BCE) is one of the great philosophers of ancient Greece’s golden age who, like his teacher Plato, helped define the discipline of philosophy in Western civilization. Aristotle lived in Athens where he founded a school called the Lyceum, and for a time tutored Alexander the Great. The selections below are from the beginning portions of his book Politics, where he argues that society is grounded in a distinction between natural rulers and natural subjects. The state, Aristotle argues, is prior to the individual, since people who live in isolation are savages and do not have the bonds of justice that come with living in society. The household is the foundational component of society and it consists of three ruler-subject relationships: master-slave, husband-wife, and father-child. Some people are naturally born masters and others slaves, depending on their mental superiority or inferiority, where the slave is designed for labor and the master for giving orders. For Aristotle, such natural slavery is both useful and morally justifiable. However, mere “slavery by law” where people are captured in war and enslaved, is neither useful or justifiable. Just as the master-slave relation is based on differing mental abilities, the same is with the husband-wife and father-child relationships. While slaves have no mental capacity to make deliberative judgments, women have that capacity without authority, and children have that capacity only in an immature condition. All members of the household have moral virtues, but those virtues differ based on household members’ role. The man has the virtues of temperance and courage in commanding, while the woman has the virtues of temperance and courage in obeying. The slave has the virtue of self-control in fulfilling his duty. Aristotle continues by discussing the various forms of government—those ruled by one, a few, and many people. In all of these forms, he argues they become perverted when the rulers seek their own gain, rather than that of the governed. Justice, in all forms of government, is connected the idea of equality, but the challenge is determining which qualities (e.g., wealth) are relevant for determining a person’s equality or inequality. Ultimately, he argues, the idea of equality is relative to the advantage of the state, and the common good of the citizens.
THE STATE AS A CREATION OF NATURE
States Aim at the Highest Good
1.1. Every state is a community of some kind, and every community is established with a view to some good; for mankind always act in order to obtain that which they think good. But, if all communities aim at some good, the state or political community, which is the highest of all, and which embraces all the rest, aims at good in a greater degree than any other, and at the highest good.
Some people think that the qualifications of a statesman, king, householder, and master are the same, and that they differ, not in kind, but only in the number of their subjects. For example, the ruler over a few is called a master; over more, the manager of a household; over a still larger number, a statesman or king, as if there were no difference between a great household and a small state. The distinction which is made between the king and the statesman is this: When the government is personal, the ruler is a king; when, according to the rules of the political science, the citizens rule and are ruled in turn, then he is called a statesman.
But all this is a mistake; for governments differ in kind, as will be evident to anyone who considers the matter according to the method which has until now guided us. As in other departments of science, so in politics, the compound should always be resolved into the simple elements or least parts of the whole. We must therefore look at the elements of which the state is composed, in order that we may see in what manner the different kinds of rule differ from one another, and whether any scientific result can be attained about each one of them.
Natural Rulers and Subjects: Families, Villages, States
1.2. He who thus considers things in their first growth and origin, whether a state or anything else, will obtain the clearest view of them. In the first place there must be a union of those who cannot exist without each other, namely, of male and female. This is a union which is formed, not by deliberate purpose, but because, in common with other animals and with plants, mankind have a natural desire to leave behind them an image of themselves. Because of this, the race may continue, and through natural ruler and subject, both may be preserved. For that which can foresee by the exercise of mind is by nature intended to be lord and master, and that which can with its body give effect to such foresight is a subject, and by nature a slave. Hence master and slave have the same interest. Now nature has distinguished between the female and the slave. For nature is not stingy, like the smith who fashions the Delphian knife for many uses; she makes each thing for a single use, and every instrument is best made when intended for one and not for many uses. But among barbarians no distinction is made between women and slaves, because there is no natural ruler among them: they are a community of slaves, male and female. Accordingly, the poets [Euripides] say, “It is plausible that Greeks should rule over barbarians” as if they thought that the barbarian and the slave were by nature one.
Out of these two relationships between man and woman, master and slave, the first thing to arise is the family, and Hesiod is right when he says, “First house and wife and an ox for the plough,” for the ox is the poor man’s slave. The family is the association established by nature for the supply of men’s everyday wants, and the members of it are called by Charondas “companions of the cupboard,” and by Epimenides the Cretan, “companions of the manger.” But when several families are united, and the association aims at something more than the supply of daily needs, the first society to be formed is the village. And the most natural form of the village appears to be that of a colony from the family, composed of the children and grandchildren, who are said to be suckled “with the same milk.” And this is the reason why Hellenic states were originally governed by kings; because the Hellenes were under royal rule before they came together, as the barbarians still are. Every family is ruled by the eldest, and therefore in the colonies of the family the kingly form of government prevailed because they were of the same blood. As Homer says: “Each one gives law to his children and to his wives.” For they lived dispersedly, as was the manner in ancient times. Accordingly, men say that the Gods have a king, because they themselves either are or were in ancient times under the rule of a king. For they imagine, not only the forms of the Gods, but their ways of life to be like their own.
When several villages are united in a single complete community, large enough to be nearly or quite self-sufficing, the state comes into existence, originating in the bare needs of life, and continuing in existence for the sake of a good life. And therefore, if the earlier forms of society are natural, so is the state, for it is the end of them, and the nature of a thing is its end. For what each thing is when fully developed, we call its nature, whether we are speaking of a man, a horse, or a family. Besides, the final cause and end of a thing is the best, and to be self-sufficing is the end and the best.
The State is Prior to the Individual
Hence it is evident that the state is a creation of nature, and that man is by nature a political animal. And he who by nature and not by mere accident is without a state, is either a bad man or above humanity. He is like the “Tribeless, lawless, hearthless one,” whom Homer denounces, the natural outcast is immediately a lover of war; he may be compared to an isolated checker piece.
Now, that man is more of a political animal than bees or any other gregarious animals is evident. Nature, as we often say, makes nothing in vain, and man is the only animal whom she has endowed with the gift of speech. And whereas mere voice is but an indication of pleasure or pain, and is therefore found in other animals (for their nature attains to the perception of pleasure and pain and the intimation of them to one another, and no further), the power of speech is intended to set forth what is useful and not useful, and therefore likewise what is just and unjust. And it is a characteristic of man that he alone has any sense of good and evil, of just and unjust, and the like, and the association of living beings who have this sense makes a family and a state.
Further, the state is by nature clearly prior to the family and to the individual, since the whole is of necessity prior to the part. For example, if the whole body is destroyed, there will be no foot or hand, except in an equivocal sense, as we might speak of a stone hand; for when destroyed the hand will be no better than that. But things are defined by their working and power; and we ought not to say that they are the same when they no longer have their proper quality, but only that they have the same name. The proof that the state is a creation of nature and prior to the individual is that the individual, when isolated, is not self-sufficing. Therefore he is like a part in relation to the whole. But he who is unable to live in society, or who has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god: he is no part of a state. A social instinct is implanted in all men by nature, and yet he who first founded the state was the greatest of benefactors. For man, when perfected, is the best of animals, but, when separated from law and justice, he is the worst of all; since armed injustice is the more dangerous, and he is equipped at birth with arms, meant to be used by intelligence and virtue, which he may use for the worst ends. Accordingly, if he has not virtue, he is the most unholy and the most savage of animals, and the most full of lust and gluttony. But justice is the bond of men in states, for the administration of justice, which is the determination of what is just, is the principle of order in political society.
Parts of the Household
1.3. Seeing then that the state is made up of households, before speaking of the state we must speak of the management of the household. The parts of household management correspond to the persons who compose the household, and a complete household consists of slaves and freemen. Now we should begin by examining everything in its fewest possible elements; and the first and fewest possible parts of a family are master and slave, husband and wife, father and children. We have therefore to consider what each of these three relations is and ought to be: I mean the relation of master and servant, the marriage relation (the conjunction of man and wife has no name of its own), and thirdly, the procreative relation (this also has no proper name). And there is another element of a household, the so-called art of getting wealth, which, according to some, is identical with household management, according to others, a principal part of it. We will also have to consider the nature of this art.
SLAVES
Property in the Household
Let us first speak of master and slave, looking to the needs of practical life and also seeking to attain some better theory of their relation than exists at present. For some are of opinion that the rule of a master is a science, and that the management of a household, and the mastership of slaves, and the political and royal rule, as I was saying at the outset, are all the same. Others affirm that the rule of a master over slaves is contrary to nature, and that the distinction between slave and freeman exists by law only, and not by nature; and being an interference with nature is therefore unjust.
1.4. Property is a part of the household, and the art of acquiring property is a part of the art of managing the household. For no man can live well, or indeed live at all, unless he is provided with necessities. As in the arts which have a definite sphere, the workers must have their own proper instruments for the accomplishment of their work, so it is in the management of a household. Now instruments are of various sorts: some are living, others lifeless. With a ship’s rudder, the captain has a lifeless instrument, with the look-out man, he has a living instrument. For in the arts the servant is a kind of instrument. Thus, too, a possession is an instrument for maintaining life. And so, in the arrangement of the family, a slave is a living possession, and property a number of such instruments. The servant is himself an instrument which takes precedence of all other instruments. For if every instrument could accomplish its own work, obeying or anticipating the will of others, like the statues of Daedalus, or the tripods of Hephaestus, which, says the poet, “of their own accord entered the assembly of the Gods” if, in like manner, the shuttle would weave and the pick touch the lyre without a hand to guide them, chief workmen would not want servants, nor masters slaves.
Here, however, another distinction must be drawn. The instruments commonly so called are instruments of production, whilst a possession is an instrument of action. The shuttle, for example, is not only of use; but something else is made by it, whereas of a garment or of a bed there is only the use. Further, as production and action are different in kind, and both require instruments, the instruments which they employ must likewise differ in kind. But life is action and not production, and therefore the slave is the agent of action. Again, a possession is spoken of as a part is spoken of. For the part is not only a part of something else, but wholly belongs to it; this is also true of a possession. The master is only the master of the slave; he does not belong to him, whereas the slave is not only the slave of his master, but wholly belongs to him. Hence we see what is the nature and office of a slave. He who is by nature not his own but another’s man, is by nature a slave; and he may be said to be another’s man who, being a human being, is also a possession. And a possession may be defined as an instrument of action, separable from the possessor.
In Defense of Natural Slavery
1.5. Is anyone intended by nature to be a slave, and for whom such a condition is useful and right, or rather is not all slavery a violation of nature? There is no difficulty in answering this question, on grounds both of reason and of fact. For that some should rule and others be ruled is a thing not only necessary, but practical. From the hour of their birth, some are marked out for subjection, others for rule.
There are many kinds of rulers and subjects. That rule is the better which is exercised over better subjects. For example, to rule over men is better than to rule over wild animals; for the work is better which is executed by better workmen. Where one man rules and another is ruled, they may be said to have a work. For in all things which form a composite whole and which are made up of parts, whether continuous or discrete, a distinction between the ruling and the subject element comes to light. Such a duality exists in living creatures, but not in them only; it originates in the constitution of the universe. Even in things which have no life there is a ruling principle, as in a musical mode.
But we are wandering from the subject. We will therefore restrict ourselves to the living creature, which, in the first place, consists of soul and body: and of these two, the one is by nature the ruler, and the other the subject. But then we must look for the intentions of nature in things which retain their nature, and not in things which are corrupted. Therefore we must study the man who is in the most perfect state both of body and soul, for in him we shall see the true relation of the two; although in bad or corrupted natures the body will often appear to rule over the soul, because they are in an evil and unnatural condition. In any event, may firstly observe in living creatures both a despotic and a constitutional rule; for the soul rules the body with a despotic rule, whereas the intellect rules the appetites with a constitutional and royal rule. And it is clear that the rule of the soul over the body, and of the mind and the rational element over the passionate, is natural and useful; whereas the equality of the two or the rule of the inferior is always hurtful. The same holds good of animals in relation to men; for tame animals have a better nature than wild, and all tame animals are better off when they are ruled by man; for then they are preserved. Again, the male is by nature superior, and the female inferior; and the one rules, and the other is ruled; this principle, of necessity, extends to all mankind.
Where then there is such a difference as that between soul and body, or between men and animals (as in the case of those whose business is to use their body, and who can do nothing better), the lower sort are by nature slaves, and it is better for them as for all inferiors that they should be under the rule of a master. For he who can be, and therefore is, another’s and he who participates in rational principle enough to apprehend, but not to have, such a principle, is a slave by nature. Whereas the lower animals cannot even apprehend a principle; they obey their instincts. And indeed the use made of slaves and of tame animals is not very different; for both with their bodies minister to the needs of life.
Nature would like to distinguish between the bodies of freemen and slaves, making the one strong for servile labor, the other upright, and although useless for such services, useful for political life in the arts both of war and peace. But the opposite often happens—that some have the souls and others have the bodies of freemen. And doubtless if men differed from one another in the mere forms of their bodies as much as the statues of the Gods do from men, all would acknowledge that the inferior class should be slaves of the superior. And if this is true of the body, how much more just that a similar distinction should exist in the soul? But the beauty of the body is seen, whereas the beauty of the soul is not seen. It is clear, then, that some men are by nature free, and others slaves, and that for these latter slavery is both practical and right.
Against Slavery by Law
1.6. But it may easily be seen that those who take the opposite view have in a certain way right on their side. For the words slavery and slave are used in two senses. There is a slave or slavery by law as well as by nature. The law of which I speak is a sort of convention—the law by which whatever is taken in war is supposed to belong to the victors. But this right many jurists challenge, as they would an orator who brought forward an unconstitutional measure. They detest the notion that, because one man has the power of doing violence and is superior in brute strength, another shall be his slave and subject. Even among philosophers there is a difference of opinion. The origin of the dispute, and what makes the views invade each other’s territory, is as follows. In some sense virtue, when furnished with means, has actually the greatest power of exercising force. As superior power is only found where there is superior excellence of some kind, power seems to imply virtue, and the dispute to be simply one about justice. For it is due to one party identifying justice with goodwill while the other identifies it with the mere rule of the stronger. If these views are thus set out separately, the other views have no force or plausibility against the view that the superior in virtue ought to rule, or be master.
Others, clinging, as they think, simply to a principle of justice (for law and custom are a sort of justice), assume that slavery in accordance with the custom of war is justified by law, but at the same moment they deny this. For what if the cause of the war is unjust? And again, no one would ever say he is a slave who is unworthy to be a slave. If this were the case, men of the highest rank would be slaves and the children of slaves if they or their parents were by chance taken captive and sold. Accordingly, the Greeks do not like to call enslaved Greek people “slaves,” but confine the term to “slavery” to barbarians. Yet, in using this language, they really mean the natural slave of whom we spoke at first. For it must be admitted that some are slaves everywhere, others nowhere. The same principle applies to nobility. Greeks regard themselves as noble everywhere, and not only in their own country, but they deem the barbarians noble only when at home, thereby implying that there are two sorts of nobility and freedom, the one absolute, the other relative. Theodectes the Greek says: “Who would presume to call me servant who am on both sides sprung from the stem of the Gods?” What does this mean but that they distinguish freedom and slavery, noble and humble birth, by the two principles of good and evil? They think that as men and animals beget men and animals, so from good men a good man springs. But this is what nature, though she may intend it, cannot always accomplish.
We see then that there is some foundation for this difference of opinion, and that all are not either slaves by nature or freemen by nature, and also that there is in some cases a marked distinction between the two classes, making it useful and right for the one to be slaves and the others to be masters: the one practicing obedience, the others exercising the authority and lordship which nature intended them to have. The abuse of this authority is injurious to both. For the interests of part and whole, of body and soul, are the same, and the slave is a part of the master, a living but separated part of his bodily frame. Hence, where the relation of master and slave between them is natural they are friends and have a common interest, but where it rests merely on law and force the reverse is true.
The Skill of Slavery
1.7. The previous remarks are quite enough to show that the rule of a master is not a constitutional rule, and that all the different kinds of rule are not, as some affirm, the same with each other. For there is one rule exercised over subjects who are by nature free, another over subjects who are by nature slaves. The rule of a household is a monarchy, for every house is under one head: whereas constitutional rule is a government of freemen and equals. The master is not called a master because he has science, but because he is of a certain character, and the same remark applies to the slave and the freeman. Still there may be a science for the master and science for the slave. The science of the slave would be such as the man of Syracuse taught, who made money by instructing slaves in their ordinary duties. And such a knowledge may be carried further, so as to include cookery and similar menial arts. For some duties are more necessary, others of the more honorable sort; as the proverb says, “slave before slave, master before master.” But all such branches of knowledge are servile. There is likewise a science of the master, which teaches the use of slaves; for the master as such is concerned, not with the acquisition, but with the use of them. Yet this so-called science is not anything great or wonderful; for the master need only know how to order that which the slave must know how to execute. Hence those who are in a position which places them above toil have stewards who attend to their households while they occupy themselves with philosophy or with politics. But the art of acquiring slaves, I mean of justly acquiring them, differs both from the art of the master and the art of the slave, being a species of hunting or war. Enough of the distinction between master and slave. . . .
WOMEN AND CHILDREN
Royal Rule vs. Constitutional Rule
1.12. Of household management we have seen that there are three parts—one is the rule of a master over slaves, which has been discussed already, another of a father, and the third of a husband. A husband and father, we saw, rules over wife and children, both free, but the rule differs, the rule over his children being a royal rule, over his wife a constitutional rule. For although there may be exceptions to the order of nature, the male is by nature fitter for command than the female, just as the elder and full-grown is superior to the younger and more immature. But in most constitutional states the citizens rule and are ruled by turns, for the idea of a constitutional state implies that the natures of the citizens are equal, and do not differ at all. Nevertheless, when one rules and the other is ruled we try to create a difference of outward forms and names and titles of respect, which may be illustrated by the saying of Amasis about his foot-pan [i.e., a king who made a religious idol out of a lowly footpan]. The relation of the male to the female is of this kind, but there the inequality is permanent. The rule of a father over his children is royal, for he rules by virtue both of love and of the respect due to age, exercising a kind of royal power. And therefore Homer has appropriately called Zeus “father of Gods and men,” because he is the king of them all. For a king is the natural superior of his subjects, but he should be of the same kin or kind with them, and such is the relation of elder and younger, of father and son.
Different Virtues for Rulers and Subjects
1.13. Thus it is clear that household management attends more to men than to the acquisition of inanimate things, and to human excellence more than to the excellence of property (which we call wealth), and to the virtue of freemen more than to the virtue of slaves. A question may indeed be raised, whether there is any excellence at all in a slave beyond and higher than merely instrumental and ministerial qualities—whether he can have the virtues of temperance, courage, justice, and the like; or whether slaves possess only bodily and instrumental qualities. And, whichever way we answer the question, a difficulty arises. For, if they have virtue, in what will they differ from freemen? On the other hand, since they are men and share in rational principle, it seems absurd to say that they have no virtue. A similar question may be raised about women and children, whether they too have virtues. Ought a woman to be temperate and brave and just, and is a child to be called temperate, and intemperate, or not.
So in general we may ask about the natural ruler, and the natural subject, whether they have the same or different virtues. For if a noble nature is equally required in both, why should one of them always rule, and the other always be ruled? Nor can we say that this is a question of degree, for the difference between ruler and subject is a difference in kind, which the difference of more and less never is. Yet how strange is the supposition that the one ought, and that the other ought not, to have virtue. For if the ruler is intemperate and unjust, how can he rule well? If the subject, how can he obey well? If he is unrestrained and cowardly, he will certainly not do his duty. It is evident, therefore, that both of them must have a share of virtue, but varying as natural subjects also vary among themselves. Here the very constitution of the soul has shown us the way; in it one part naturally rules, and the other is subject, and the virtue of the ruler we in maintain to be different from that of the subject; the one being the virtue of the rational, and the other of the irrational part. Now, it is obvious that the same principle applies generally, and therefore almost all things rule and are ruled according to nature. But the kind of rule differs. The freeman rules over the slave after another manner from that in which the male rules over the female, or the man over the child; although the parts of the soul are present in an of them, they are present in different degrees. For the slave has no deliberative faculty at all. The woman has the deliberative faculty, but it is without authority, and the child has, but it is immature.
So it must necessarily be supposed to be with the moral virtues also. All should partake of them, but only in such manner and degree as is required by each for the fulfillment of his duty. Hence the ruler ought to have moral virtue in perfection, for his function, taken absolutely, demands a master artificer, and rational principle is such an artificer; the subjects, on the other hand, require only that measure of virtue which is proper to each of them. Clearly, then, moral virtue belongs to all of them. But the temperance of a man and of a woman, or the courage and justice of a man and of a woman, are not, as Socrates maintained, the same. The courage of a man is shown in commanding, of a woman in obeying. And this holds of all other virtues, as will be more clearly seen if we look at them in detail. For those who say generally that virtue consists in a good disposition of the soul, or in doing rightly, or the like, only deceive themselves. Far better than such general definitions is their manner of speaking, who, like Gorgias, enumerate the specific virtues. All classes must be deemed to have their special attributes. As the poet says of women, “Silence is a woman’s glory,” but this is not equally the glory of man. The child is imperfect, and therefore obviously his virtue is not relative to himself alone, but to the perfect man and to his teacher, and in like manner the virtue of the slave is relative to a master.
Now we determined that a slave is useful for the wants of life, and therefore he will obviously require only so much virtue as will prevent him from failing in his duty through cowardice or lack of self-control. Someone will ask whether, if what we are saying is true, virtue will not be required also in the artisans, for they often fail in their work through the lack of self-control? But is there not a great difference in the two cases? For the slave shares in his master’s life; the artisan is less closely connected with him, and only attains excellence in proportion as he becomes a slave. The inferior sort of mechanic has a special and separate slavery; and whereas the slave exists by nature, not so the shoemaker or other artisan. It is evident, then, that the master ought to be the source of such excellence in the slave, and not a mere possessor of the art of mastership which trains the slave in his duties. Accordingly, they are mistaken who forbid us to converse with slaves and say that we should employ command only, for slaves stand even more in need of admonition than children. . . .
FORMS OF GOVERNMENT
Ruling for the Good of the Governed
3.6. Having determined these questions, we have next to consider whether there is only one form of government or many, and if many, what they are, and how many, and what are the differences between them.
A constitution is the arrangement of magistracies in a state, especially of the highest of all. The government is everywhere sovereign in the state, and the constitution is in fact the government. For example, in democracies the people are supreme, but in oligarchies, the few; and, therefore, we say that these two forms of government also are different: and so in other cases.
First, let us consider what is the purpose of a state, and how many forms of government there are by which human society is regulated. We have already said, in the first part of this treatise, when discussing household management and the rule of a master, that man is by nature a political animal. Therefore, men, even when they do not require one another's help, desire to live together; although they are also brought together by their common interests in proportion as they severally attain to any measure of the good life. The good life is certainly the chief end, both of individuals and of states. Also for the sake of mere life (in which there is possibly some valuable element in merely living, so long as the evils of existence do not greatly overbalance the good) mankind meet together and maintain the political community. We all see that men cling to life even at the cost of enduring great misfortune, seeming to find in life a natural sweetness and happiness. . . .
The governing of a wife and children and of a household, which we have called household management, is exercised in the first instance for the good of the governed or for the common good of both parties, but essentially for the good of the governed. . . . The conclusion is evident: that governments which have a regard to the common interest are constituted in accordance with strict principles of justice, and are therefore true forms. But those which regard only the interest of the rulers are all defective and perverted forms, for they are despotic, whereas a state is a community of freemen.
Rule of One, Few, or Many
3.7. Having determined these points, we have next to consider how many forms of government there are, and what they are; and in the first place what are the true forms. For when they are determined the perversions of them will at once be apparent. The words constitution and government have the same meaning, and the government, which is the supreme authority in states, must be in the hands of one, or of a few, or of the many. The true forms of government, therefore, are those in which the one, or the few, or the many, govern with a view to the common interest. But governments which rule with a view to the private interest, whether of the one or of the few, or of the many, are perversions. For the members of a state, if they are truly citizens, ought to participate in its advantages. Of forms of government in which one rules, we call that which regards the common interests, kingship or royalty. That in which more than one, but not many, rule, is an aristocracy. It is called this either because the rulers are the best men, or because they have at heart the best interests of the state and of the citizens. But when the multitude administer the state for the common interest, it is called by the general name of all governments, which is “constitutional government.” There is a reason for this use of language. One man or a few may excel in virtue, but as the number increases it becomes more difficult for them to attain perfection in every kind of virtue—although they may in military virtue, for this is found in the masses. Hence in a constitutional government the fighting-men have the supreme power, and those who possess arms are the citizens.
Of the above-mentioned forms, the perversions are as follows: of royalty it is tyranny; of aristocracy it is oligarchy; of constitutional government it is democracy. For tyranny is a kind of monarchy which has in view the interest of the monarch only; oligarchy has in view the interest of the wealthy; democracy, of the poor. None of them have in view the common good of all.
Justice as Equality
3.12. In all sciences and arts the end is a good, and the greatest good and in the highest degree a good in the most authoritative of all—this is the political science of which the good is justice, in other words, the common interest. All men think justice to be a sort of equality; and to a certain extent they agree in the philosophical distinctions which have been laid down by us about Ethics. For they admit that justice is a thing and has a relation to persons, and that equals ought to have equality. But there still remains a question: equality or inequality of what? Here is a difficulty which calls for political speculation. For very likely some persons will say that offices of state ought to be unequally distributed according to superior excellence, in whatever respect, of the citizen, although there is no other difference between him and the rest of the community; for that those who differ in any one respect have different rights and claims. But, surely, if this is true, the complexion or height of a man, or any other advantage, will be a reason for his obtaining a greater share of political rights. The error here lies upon the surface, and may be illustrated from the other arts and sciences. When a number of flute players are equal in their art, there is no reason why those of them who are better born should have better flutes given to them; for they will not play any better on the flute, and the superior instrument should be reserved for him who is the superior artist. . . .
It is evident that there is good reason why in politics men do not ground their claim to office on every sort of inequality any more than in the arts. For if some are slow, and others swift, that is no reason why the one should have little and the others much. It is in gymnastics contests that such excellence is rewarded. Whereas the rival claims of candidates for office can only be based on the possession of elements which enter into the composition of a state. Therefore the noble, or free-born, or rich, may with good reason claim office. For holders of offices must be freemen and taxpayers: a state can be no more composed entirely of poor men than entirely of slaves. But if wealth and freedom are necessary elements, justice and valor are equally so; for without the former qualities a state cannot exist at all, without the latter not well. . . .
3.13. All these considerations appear to show that none of the principles on which men claim to rule and to hold all other men in subjection to them are strictly right. To those who claim to be masters of the government on the ground of their virtue or their wealth, the many might fairly answer that they themselves are often better and richer than the few (I do not say individually, but collectively). Another ingenious objection which is sometimes put forward may be met in a similar manner. Some persons doubt whether the legislator who desires to make the justest laws ought to legislate with a view to the good of the higher classes or of the many, when the case which we have mentioned occurs [i.e., when the many have superior wealth collectively]. Now what is just or right is to be interpreted in the sense of “what is equal”; and that which is right in the sense of being equal is to be considered with reference to the advantage of the state, and the common good of the citizens. And a citizen is one who shares in governing and being governed. He differs under different forms of government, but in the best state he is one who is able and willing to be governed and to govern with a view to the life of virtue.
Source: Aristotle, Politics, Books 1, 3. Tr. Benjamin Jowett.
Questions for Review
1. Explain the connection between families, villages and states.
2. In defense of natural slavery, Aristotle argues that there is a principle ruling within nature, in living and nonliving things, where the superior rules over the inferior. What examples does he provides of this ruling principle of nature?
3. What are some of the arguments against slavery by law (i.e., enslaving war captives)?
4. What are the various skills of slavery, both of the master and the slave?
5. What is the distinction between royal rule and constitutional rule, and how do they pertain to children and wives?
6. What are the three forms of government (based on the rule of one, a few and many), and what are the perversions of those three forms?
Questions for Analysis
1. One of the most famous quotes by Aristotle is this: “the state is a creation of nature, and man is by nature a political animal.” Explain this in the context of the paragraph in which it appears his Politics and evaluate his argument in defense of it.
2. Aristotle argues that if all weak-minded people had strong bodies, there would be no dispute about the natural basis of slavery. Defend or refute his position.
3. Aristotle argues that there is a principle in nature that the superior rules over the inferior, and this justifies superior-minded people ruling over inferior-minded people. Defend or refute this position.
4. Aristotle draws a distinction between royal rule and constitutional rule. One way of understanding this distinction is that royal rule involves authority over the governed for the benefit of the governed, but without resistance from the governed. Constitutional rule, by contrast, involves authority over the governed which includes a legally defined power of resistance. Explain and evaluate Aristotle’s view of how these two types of rules apply to children and women.
5. The critical mental faculty that determines whether a person is a ruler or subject is the ability of deliberation—that is, the capacity to determine which actions will achieve a desired goal. Explain this process of deliberation, and evaluate his position on how this applies to men, women, children and slaves.
6. A common contemporary definition of justice is that it consists of the absence of arbitrary inequalities. Aristotle also links the notion of justice is equality. However, he argues that people have unequal attributes, and, thus, justice would call for treating them differently. The critical issue for Aristotle is discovering which attributes of a person are relevant to justice. How does Aristotle’s conception of justice differ from the contemporary notion? That is, are the unequal attributes that are relevant to justice arbitrary?
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#3
NATURAL JUSTICE
Cicero
Cicero (106–43 BCE) was an influential politician, lawyer and philosopher during the Roman Republic. One of his more important works in political philosophy is On the Commonwealth, which puts forth the vision of an ideal community. Most of the work was considered lost until 1822 when a copy of it, though still incomplete, was discovered in the Vatican Library. Selections below are from Book 3 of this work, which discusses the nature of justice. Composed in the form of a dialogue, the characters are famous generals and statesmen of the Roman Republic from a century prior to Cicero’s time, namely, Scipio, Laelius, Philus, and Mummius. In an introduction to the dialogue, Cicero notes how human intelligence, language and writing have advanced human civilization, and, in the area of politics, great politicians put into practice the theoretical principles established by philosophers. The dialogue opens with Philus attacking the notion of natural justice, particularly as expressed in the views of the ancient Greek skeptic Carneades. He argues that ideas of justice vary from place to place, which undermines any notion of a natural and universal justice. Further, our worldly wisdom of how society operates tells us that we benefit more when we are unjust, so long as we escape punishment. For example, home sellers conceal defects in their homes from potential buyers for the benefits of financial gain. Against this view, Scipio and Laelius defend the notion of natural justice which is universal, unchangeable, eternal, created and enforced by God. Those who follow the virtuous path of natural justice are consoled by their conscience, and this outweighs any possible gains from being unjust. The dialogue closes with the participants debating the relative merits of democratic, aristocratic and monarchical governments. They all agree that democratic rule is the worst since the populace would govern with a mob-like mentality, and do whatever they pleased, regardless of how barbarous their actions were.
INTRODUCTION
Development of Society
Nature has treated man less like a real mother than a stepmother. She has cast him into mortal life with a body that is naked, fragile, and infirm; and with a mind agitated by troubles, depressed by fears, broken by labors, and exposed to passions. In this mind, however, there lies hidden, and in a sense buried, a certain divine spark of genius and intellect. Thus, the human soul should attribute much of its present infirmity to the dullness contracted from its earthly vehicle.
Though man is born a frail and powerless being, nevertheless he is safe from all nonspeaking animals. At the same time, those other animals of greater strength, although they bravely endure the violence of weather, cannot be safe from man. The result is that reason does more for man than nature does for animals. For, in animals, neither the greatness of their strength nor the firmness of their bodies can save them from being oppressed by us, and made subject to our power.
This intelligence had taught men to utter the elementary and confused sounds of unpolished expression, to articulate and distinguish them into their proper classes, and, as their appropriate signs, attached certain words to certain things. Through the beautiful bond of speech, the once divided races of men became associated together.
Thanks to this same intelligence, the inflections of the voice, which appeared infinite, by the discovery of a few alphabetic characters, are all designated and expressed. By these we maintain conversation with our absent friends, and use them as symbols of our ideas and monuments of past events. Then came the use of numbers—a thing so necessary to human life, and singularly immutable and eternal. This science first urged us to penetrate into heaven, and not in vain to investigate the motions of the stars, and the distribution of days and nights.
Political Philosophers vs. Politicians
Then appeared the philosophers, whose minds took a higher flight, and conceived and executed designs worthy of the gifts of the gods. Thus those who have left us sublime writings on the conduct of human life must be regarded as great men, for indeed they are so. Such were these philosophers, these masters of truth and virtue.
Among these we should especially honor the chief fathers of political wisdom, and the government of the people, as discovered by men familiar with all the acts of legislation, and as developed by philosophic truth-searchers in literary leisure. This political science often attains a wonderful perfection in first-rate minds, as we have frequently seen, and elicits an incredible and almost divine virtue. No one will refuse to acknowledge the superiority of political thinkers over all others, particularly when, to these high faculties of soul (received from nature and expanded by social institutions), a politician adds learning and extensive information concerning things in general. Cases in point are those famous people who conduct the dialogue in the present treatise.
In fact, what can be more admirable than the study and practice of the grand affairs of state, united to a literary elegance and a familiarity with the liberal arts! What can we imagine more perfect than a Scipio, a Laelius, or a Philus, who, combining all the glorious qualities of the greatest men, joined to the examples of our ancestors and the traditions of our countrymen, the foreign philosophy of Socrates!
It appears to me the very highest glory and honor is to study and attain two grand things: learning and experience. With these we may build securely on the universal consent of the philosophers of all nations, and the tried institutions of our native land. But suppose that we cannot combine both, and are compelled to select one of these two paths of wisdom. We may think that the tranquil life spent in the research of literature and arts is the most happy and appealing. However, undoubtedly the science of politics is more praiseworthy and memorable, for in this political field of exertion our greatest men have reaped their honors, like the incorruptible [Roman politician] Curius “Whom neither gold nor iron could tempt.”
There exists this general difference between these two classes of great men, namely philosophers and politicians. As to the first, the development of the principles of nature is the subject of their study and eloquence. As to the second, national laws and institutions form their principal topics of investigation.
In honor of our country of Rome, we may assert that she has produced within herself a great number of men (I will not call them “philosophers” since philosophy is so protective of that name) but of men worthy of the highest honor, because by them the precepts and discoveries of the philosophers have been carried out into actual practice.
The number of these political legislators will appear very numerous if you consider that there have existed and still exist many great and glorious empires, and if you acknowledge that the noblest masterpiece of genius in the world is the establishment of a durable state and commonwealth. To be convinced of this, we have only to turn our eyes on Italy, Latium, the Sabines, the Volscians, the Samnites, the Etrurians, and then direct our attention to the Greeks, Assyrians, Persians, and Carthaginians.
PHILUS: AGAINST NATURAL, INNATE AND UNIVERSIAL JUSTICE
Philus adopts the Arguments of Carneades
Narrator: Scipio and his friends having again assembled, Scipio began speaking.
Scipio: In our last conversation I promised to prove that honesty is the best policy in all states and commonwealths whatsoever. But if I am to plead in favor of strict honesty and justice in all public affairs, no less than in private, I must request that Philus, or someone else, take up the advocacy of the other side. The truth will then become more obvious from the confrontation of opposite arguments, as we see every day exemplified in court proceedings.
Philus: In all truth you have assigned me an excellent and admirable cause. So you wish me to argue for vice, do you?
Laelius: Perhaps you are afraid, for fear that in reproducing the ordinary objections made to justice in politics, you should appear to express your own opinions. But this caution is ridiculous in you, my Philus. You, who are so universally respected as an almost unique example of the ancient virtue and good faith. You, who are so familiar with the legal habit of disputing on both sides of a question, because you think this is the best way of getting at the truth.
Philus: Very well, I will do as you say. Willfully with my eyes open, I will undertake this dirty business. Since those who seek for gold do not flinch at the sight of mud, we, who search for justice, which is far more precious than gold, must overcome all dainty scruples. I will therefore, make use of the antagonist arguments of a foreigner, and assume his character in using them. The arguments, therefore, that I will now deliver are those once used by the Greek [skeptical philosopher] Carneades, accustomed to express whatever served his purpose. Let it be understood, though, that I by no means express my own opinions, but those of Carneades, in order that you may refute this philosopher, who was accustomed to turning the best causes into joke, through the mere shamefulness of wit.
Narrator: When Philus had thus spoken, he took a general review of the leading arguments that Carneades had offered to prove that justice was neither eternal, immutable, nor universal. Having put these sophistical arguments into their most misleading yet plausible form, he thus continued his clever pleadings.
Justice Varies from Place to Place
Philus: Aristotle has treated this question concerning justice, and filled four large volumes with it. As to stoic philosopher Chrysippus, I expected nothing grand or magnificent in him, for, after his usual fashion, he examines everything by the meaning of words, rather than the reality of things. But it was surely worthy of those heroes of philosophy to ennoble by their genius a virtue so highly beneficent and liberal, which everywhere exalts the social interests above the selfish, and teaches to love others rather than ourselves. It was worthy of their genius, we say, to elevate this virtue to a divine throne, close to that of Wisdom. Certainly they did not lack the intention to accomplish this. What else could be the cause of their writing on the subject, or what could have been their design? Nor could they have lacked intelligence, in which they excelled all men. But the weakness of their cause was too great for their intention and their eloquence to make it popular. In fact, this justice on which we reason may be a legal right, but no natural one. For if it were natural and universal, then justice and injustice would be recognized similarly by all men, just as the elements of heat and cold, sweet and bitter.
Now if anyone was carried in the chariot of winged serpents (of which the poet Pacuvius makes mention), and could fly over all nations and cities, and accurately observe their activities, he would see that the sense of justice and right varies in different regions. In the first place, he would observe among the unchangeable people of Egypt, which preserves in its archives the memory of so many ages and events, a bull adored as a deity, under the name of Apis, a multitude of other monsters, and all kinds of animals admitted by the natives into the number of the gods.
The Persians, on the other hand, regard all these forms of idolatry as wicked, and it is affirmed that the sole motive of Xerxes for commanding the conflagration of the Athenian temples, was the belief that it was a superstitious sacrilege to keep confined within narrow walls the gods, whose proper home was the entire universe. Afterwards Philip in his hostile projects against the Persians, and Alexander in his expedition, argued that war was necessary to avenge the temples of Greece [which the Persians destroyed]. The Greeks thought it proper to never rebuild these temples, so that this monument of the impiety of the Persians might always remain before the eyes of their posterity.
How many, such as the inhabitants of Taurica along the Euxine Sea (as the King of Egypt Busiris—as the Gauls and the Carthaginians) have thought it exceedingly devout and agreeable to the gods to sacrifice men. Besides these religious discrepancies, the rules of life are so contradictory that the Cretans and Ætolians regard robbery as honorable. And the Lacedaemonians say that their territory extends to all places which they can touch with a lance. The Athenians had a custom of swearing by a public proclamation, that all the lands which produced olives and corn were their own. The Gauls consider it a fundamental occupation to raise corn by agricultural labor, and go with arms in their hands, and mow down the harvests of neighboring peoples. And our Romans, the most evenhanded of all nations, in order to raise the value of our vines and olives, do not permit the races beyond the Alps to cultivate either vineyards or olive yards. In this respect, it is said, we act with forethought, but not with justice. You see then that wisdom and policy are not always the same as equity. Lycurgus, the inventor of a most admirable jurisprudence, and most wholesome laws, gave the lands of the rich to be cultivated by the common people, who were reduced to slavery.
If I were to describe the diverse kinds of laws, institutions, manners, and customs, not only as they vary in the numerous nations, but as they vary likewise in single cities, as Rome for example, I should prove that they have had a thousand revolutions. Take, for instance, Malilius, that famous expositor of our laws who sits in the present company. If you were to consult him regarding the inheritances of women, he would tell you that the present law is quite different from that which he was accustomed to follow in his youth (that is, before the Voconian enactment came into force, an edict which was passed in favor of the interests of the men, but which is evidently full of injustice with regard to women.) For why should a woman be disabled from inheriting property? Why can a vestal virgin [i.e., priestess of the goddess Vesta] become an heir, while her mother cannot? And why, admitting that it is necessary to set some limit to the wealth of women, should the daughter of [the wealthy Roman general] Crassus, if she is his only child, inherit thousands without offending the law, while my daughter can only receive a small share in a inheritance?
If this justice were natural, innate, and universal, all men would recognize the same law and right, and the same men would not enact different laws at different times. If a just man and a virtuous man is bound to obey the laws, I ask what laws do you mean? Do you have in mind all the laws indifferently? Virtue does not permit this inconsistency in moral obligation. Such a variation is not compatible with natural conscience. Therefore, the laws are not based on our sense of justice, but on our fear of punishment. There is, accordingly, no natural justice, and hence it follows that men cannot be just by nature.
Suppose that you grant that variation indeed exists among the laws, but that men who are virtuous through natural conscience follow that which is really justice, and not a mere appearance and disguise. You suppose that it is the distinguishing characteristic of the truly just and virtuous man to give everyone his due rights. I should, then, ask you this question, what then should we do to animals, and what are the rights of animals? For not only men of more moderate abilities, but even first-rate sages and philosophers, as Pythagoras and Empedocles, declare that all kinds of living creatures have a right to the same justice. They declare that rigid penalties happen to those who have done violence to any animal whatsoever. It is, therefore, a crime to injure an animal, and the perpetrator of such crime must bear his punishment.
Justice Inconsistent with Worldly Wisdom
When Alexander asked a pirate by what right he dared to infest the sea with his little ship, he replied, “By the same right which is your warrant for conquering the world.” This pirate was indeed something of a philosopher in his way, for worldly wisdom and practicality instructs us to increase our power, riches, and estates in any way we can. This same Alexander, this mighty general, who extended his empire over all Asia, how could he, without violating the property of other men, acquire such universal dominion, enjoy so many pleasures, and reign without bound or limit?
Justice, as you assert, commands us to have mercy upon all; to exercise universal philanthropy; to consult the interests of the whole human race; to give everyone his due, and to injure no sacred, public, or foreign rights. But if this is so, how shall we reconcile this vast and all-embracing justice with worldly wisdom and policy, which teach us how to gain wealth, power, riches, honors, provinces, and kingdoms from all classes, peoples, and nations?
However, as we are discussing the interests of the state, let us notice a few memorable examples of justice and policy, presented by the history of our own Commonwealth. And since the question between justice and policy applies equally to private and public affairs, I will speak of the policy of the more public kind. I will not, however, mention other nations, but come at once to our own Roman people, whom Scipio in his discourse yesterday traced from the cradle, and whose empire now embraces the whole world. And concerning these Romans, I frankly ask whether it was most by justice or practical policy that they have attained such unbounded domination?
Now we think that policy will be found to have been our leading principle, though our political characters have always tried to dignify it by the name of justice. Thus all those who have usurped the right of life and death over the people are in fact tyrants; but they prefer being called by the title of king, which best belongs to Jupiter the Beneficent. When certain men, by favor of wealth, birth, or any other means, get possession of the entire government, it is a faction; but they choose to denominate themselves an aristocracy. If the people get the upper-hand, and rule everything after its capricious will, they call it liberty, but it is in fact excessive freedom. And when every man is on guard his against neighbor, and every class is on guard against every other class, then because each demands the aid of the rest, a kind of contract is formed between the great folk and the little folk. From this arises that mixed kind of government which Scipio has been commending. Thus justice, according to these facts, is not the daughter of nature or conscience, but of human weakness. Consider these three scenarios: either to do wrong without punishment, or to do wrong with punishment, or to do no wrong at all. If we must choose between them, it is best to do wrong with no consideration of punishment. Next we should neither do wrong, nor suffer for it. But nothing is more wretched than to struggle incessantly between the wrong we inflict and that we receive.
If we were to examine the conduct of states by the test of justice, as you propose, we should probably make this astounding discovery, that very few nations, if they restored what they have seized, would possess any country at all. The exceptions, perhaps, would be the Arcadians and Athenians, who, I presume, dreading that this great act of punishment might one day arrive, pretend that they sprung from the earth like so many of our field mice.
Summary of Carneades’ position
In summary, this is Carneades’ argument: that men had established laws among themselves from considerations of advantage, varying them according to their different customs, and altering them often so as to adapt them to the times; but that there was no such thing as natural law; that all men and all other animals are led to their own advantage by the guidance of nature; that there is no such thing as justice, or, if there is, that it is extreme foolishness, since a man would injure himself while consulting the interests of others. And he added these arguments, that all nations who were flourishing and dominant, and even the Romans themselves, who were the masters of the whole world, if they wished to be just—that is to say, if they restored all that belonged to others—would have to return to their cottages, and to lie down in want and misery.
SCIPIO AND PHILUS: TRUE JUSTICE VS. PRACTICAL BENEFIT
Benefits of Injustice Outweighed by the Disbenefits of Remorse
Scipio: In reply to these statements, the following arguments are often offered by those who are skilful in discussions, and who, in this question, have all the greater weight of authority. For, when we inquire, “Who is a good man?” (understanding by that term a frank and single-minded man), we have little need of picky arguers, quibblers, and slanderers. For those men assert that the wise man does not seek virtue because of the personal gratification, which the practice of justice and beneficence gives him, but rather because the life of the good man is free from fear, care, worry, and peril. On the other hand, however, the wicked always feel in their souls a certain suspicion, and always see before their eyes images of judgment and punishment. Do not you think, therefore, that there is any benefit, or that there is any advantage which can be obtained by injustice that is precious enough to counterbalance the constant pressure of remorse, and the haunting consciousness that punishment awaits the wrongdoer, and hangs over his head?
Our philosophers, therefore, put forward a case which is worth reporting. Suppose, say they, there are two men. The first is an excellent and admirable person, of high honor and remarkable integrity; the latter is distinguished by nothing but his vice and disrespect. Suppose that their city has so mistaken their characters, as to imagine the good man a scandalous and wicked imposter, and to esteem the wicked man, on the contrary, as a pattern of goodness and trustworthiness. On account of this error of their fellow-citizens, the good man is arrested and tormented, his hands are cut off, his eyes are plucked out, he is condemned, bound, burnt, and exterminated, and to the last appears, in the best judgment of the people, the most miserable of men. On the other hand, the reprehensible wretch is exalted, worshipped, loved by all, and honors, offices, riches, and payments, are all conferred on him, and he shall be reckoned by his fellow-citizens the best and worthiest of mortals, and in the highest degree worthy of all manner of prosperity. Yet for all this, who is so mad, as to doubt which of these two men he would rather be?
Benefits of Injustice Confirmed by Human Practice
Philus: I allow that you have quoted a strong case in your favor, but still I assert that policy receives greater confirmation by the actual conduct and practice of men than your justice can boast of. This is so both among individuals and among nations. What state is so absurd and ridiculous, as not to prefer unjust dominion to just subordination? I need not go far for examples. During my own consulship, when you were my fellow–counselors, we consulted respecting the treaty of Numantia. No one was ignorant that Pompey had signed this treaty, and that Mancinus had done the same. Mancinus, a virtuous man, supported the proposition which I laid before the people, after the decree of the senate. Pompey, on the other side, opposed it vehemently. If modesty, integrity, or faith had been regarded, Mancinus would have carried his point; but in reason, counsel and practicality, Pompey surpassed him.
If a gentleman should have a faithless slave, or an unwholesome house, with whose defect he alone was acquainted, and he advertised them for sale, would he state the fact that his servant was infected with dishonesty, and his house with malaria, or would he conceal these objections from the buyer? If he stated those facts, he would be honest, no doubt, because he would deceive nobody. But still he would be thought a fool, because he would get either little or nothing for his property. By concealing these defects, on the other hand, he will be called a shrewd and discreet man. But he will be dishonest notwithstanding, because he deceives his neighbors. Again, let us suppose that a man meets someone who sells gold and silver, but mistakenly thinks them to be copper or lead. Shall the buyer keep quiet so that he may make a major profit, or correct the mistake and purchase it at a fair rate. He would evidently be a fool in the world’s opinion if he preferred the latter.
Without a doubt, it is justice to neither commit murder nor robbery. What then would your just man do, if in a case of shipwreck he saw a weaker man than himself get possession of a plank? Would he thrust him off, get hold of the timber himself, and escape by his exertions, especially as no human witness could be present in the mid-sea. If he acted like a wise man of the world, he would certainly do so; for to act in any other way would cost him his life. If on the other hand he prefers death to inflicting unjustifiable injury on his neighbor, he will be an eminently honorable and just man, but not the less a fool, because he saved another’s life at the expense of his own. Again, if in case of a defeat and disorderly flight, when the enemy were pressing in the rear, this just man should find a wounded comrade mounted on a horse, shall he respect his right, at the chance of being killed himself, or shall be fling him from the horse in order to preserve his own life from the pursuers? If he does so, he is a worldly wise man, but not the less dishonorable. If he does not, he is admirably just, but pretty stupid.
LAELIUS AND SCIPIO: FOR NATURAL JUSTICE
Scipio: I might reply at great length to these sophistical objections of Philus, if it were not, my friend Laelius, that all our friends are no less anxious than myself to hear you take a leading part in this debate. You promised yesterday that you would plead at large on my side of the argument. If you cannot spare time for this, at any rate do not desert us,—we all ask this of you.
Natural Justice and Virtue
Laelius: This Carneades ought not to be even listened to by our young men. I think all the while I hear him, that he must be a very immoral person. If he is not, as I would prefer to believe, his teachings are no less dangerous.
There is a true law, a right reason, conformable to nature, universal, unchangeable, eternal, whose commands urge us to duty, and whose prohibitions restrain us from evil. Whether it requires or forbids, good people respect its commands, and the wicked treat them with indifference. This law cannot be contradicted by any other law, and cannot be detracted from or abolished. Neither the senate nor the people can give us any dispensation for not obeying this universal law of justice. It needs no other expositor and interpreter than our own conscience. It is not one thing at Rome and another at Athens; one thing today and another to–morrow; but in all times and nations this universal law must for ever reign, eternal and imperishable. It is the sovereign master and emperor of all beings. God himself is its author, its proclaimer, its enforcer. He who does not obeys it flies from himself, and does violence to the very nature of man. For his crime he must endure the severest penalties hereafter, even if he avoids the usual misfortunes of the present life.
The virtue which obeys this law [of justice], nobly aspires to glory, which is virtue’s sure and appropriate reward. It is a prize she can accept without disrespect, or give up without regret. When a man is inspired by virtue such as this, what bribes can you offer him? What treasures, what thrones, what empires? He considers these but mortal goods, and esteems his own, divine. And if the ingratitude of the people, and the envy of his competitors, or the violence of powerful enemies, rob his virtue of its earthly reward, he still enjoys a thousand consolations through the approval of his conscience, and sustains himself by contemplating the beauty of moral rightness.
This virtue, in order to be true, must be universal. [Roman politician] Tiberius Gracchus was faithful to his fellow-citizens, but he violated the rights and treaties guaranteed to our allies and the Latin nations. This habit of arbitrary violence may extend and unify our authority, not with equity, but force, so that those who had voluntarily obeyed us, are only restrained by fear. If this is so, then, although we may escape peril right now, yet I am worried about the safety of our future, and the immortality of the Commonwealth itself. Certainly, it might become unending and unconquerable, if our people would maintain their ancient institutions and manners.
Justice the Foundation of Lawful Government
Narrator: When Laelius had stopped speaking, all those that were present expressed the extreme pleasure they found in his discourse. But Scipio, more affected than the rest, and ravished with the delight of sympathy, exclaimed.
Scipio: You have pleaded, Laelius, many causes with an eloquence superior to that of Servius Galba, our colleague, whom during his life, you used to prefer to all others, even to the Attic orators. Never did I hear you speak with more energy than today, while pleading the cause of justice.
This justice is the very foundation of lawful government in political constitutions. Can we call the province of Agrigento a Commonwealth, where all men are oppressed by the cruelty of a single tyrant, and where there is no universal bond of right, nor social consent and fellowship, which should belong to every people, properly so named? It is the same in Syracuse, that famous city which Timaeus calls the greatest of the Grecian towns. It was indeed a most beautiful city. Its admirable citadel, its canals distributed through all its districts, its broad streets, its porticoes, its temples, and its walls, gave Syracuse the appearance of a most flourishing state. But while Dionysus its tyrant reigned there, nothing of all its wealth belonged to the people, and the people were nothing better than the slaves of a wicked despot. Thus wherever I see a tyrant, I know that the social constitution must be, not merely immoral and corrupt, as I stated yesterday, but in strict truth, no social constitution at all.
Laelius: You have spoken admirably, Scipio, and I see the point of your observations.
Scipio: You grant, then, that a state which is entirely in the power of a faction, cannot justly be entitled a political community.
Laelius: That is evident to us all.
Scipio: You judge most correctly. For what was the state of Athens when, during the great Peloponnesian war, she fell under the unjust domination of the thirty tyrants? Consider the antique glory of that city, the imposing aspect of its edifices, its theatre, its gymnasium, its porticos, its temples, its citadel, the admirable sculptures of Phidias, and the magnificent harbor of Piraeus. Did they constitute it a commonwealth?
Laelius: Certainly not; because these did not constitute the real welfare of the community.
Scipio: And at Rome, when the Ten Men ruled without appeal from their decisions in the third year of their power, had not liberty lost all its securities and all its blessings?
Laelius: Yes, the welfare of the community was no longer consulted, and the people soon roused themselves, and recovered their appropriate rights.
DEMOCRACY, ARISTOCRACY AND MONARCHY
Against Democracies
Scipio: I now come to the democratic form of government. This presents a considerable difficulty because all things are there said to lie at the tendency of the people, and are carried into execution just as they please. Here the populace inflict punishments at their pleasure, and act, and seize, and keep possession, and distribute property, without restraint or hindrance. Can you deny, Laelius, that this is a fair definition of a democracy, where the people are all in all, and where the people constitute the state?
Laelius: There is no political constitution to which I more absolutely deny the name of a Commonwealth, than that in which all things lie in the power of the multitude. A Commonwealth implies the welfare of the entire community. It could not exist in Agrigento, Syracuse, or Athens, when tyrants reigned over them; it could not exist in Rome, when under the oligarchy of the Ten Men. If it could not in these cases, neither do I see how this sacred name of Commonwealth can be applied to a democracy, and the sway of the mob.
In this statement, Scipio, I build on your own admirable definition, that there can be no community, properly so called, unless it be regulated by a combination of rights. And by this definition it appears that a multitude of men may be just as tyrannical as a single despot. Indeed this is the most horrible of all tyrannies, since no monster can be more barbarous than the mob, which assumes the name and mask of the people. The laws place the property of madmen in the hands of their sane relations; it is thus unreasonable that we should do the very reverse in politics, and throw the property of the sane into the hands of the mad multitude.
It is far more rational to assert that a wise and virtuous aristocratic government deserves the title of a Commonwealth, as it approaches to the nature of a kingdom.
Aristocracy vs. Monarchy
Mummius: In my opinion, an aristocratic government, properly so called, is entitled to our just esteem. The unity of power often exposes a king to become a despot. But when an aristocracy, consisting of many virtuous men, exercise power, it is a most fortunate circumstance for any state. However this may be, I much prefer royalty to democracy; and I think, my Scipio, you have something more to add with respect to this most cruel of all political governments.
Scipio: I am well acquainted, Mummius, with your strong opposition to the democratic system. And, although we may speak of it with rather more indulgence than you are accustomed to accord it, I must certainly agree with you, that of all the three particular forms of government, none is less admirable than democracy.
I do not agree with you, however, when you would imply that aristocracy is preferable to royalty. If you suppose that wisdom governs the state, is it not as well that this wisdom should reside in one monarch, as in many nobles?
But a sophistication of words and terms is likely to abuse our understanding in a discussion like this. When we pronounce the word “aristocracy,” which, in Greek, signifies the government of the best men, imagination, leaning rather to etymology than fact, we can hardly conceive anything more excellent. For what can be thought better than the best? When, on the other hand, the title, king, is mentioned, owing to the hallucination of our fancies, we Romans begin to imagine a tyrant, as if a king must be necessarily unjust. For my part, I always think of a just king, and not a shameless despot, when I examine the true nature of royal authority. To this name of “king”, I associate the idea of a Romulus, a Numa, a Tullus, and perhaps you will be less severe to the monarchical form of constitution.
Mummius: Have you then no praise at all for any kind of democratic government?
Scipio: Why, I think some democratic forms are less objectionable than others. By way of illustration, I will ask you what you thought of the government in the Isle of Rhodes, where we were lately together. Did it appear to you a legitimate and rational constitution?
Mummius: It did, and not much liable to abuse.
Scipio: You say truly. But if you recollect, it was a very extraordinary experiment. All the inhabitants were alternately senators and citizens. Some months they spent in their senatorial functions, and some months they spent in their civil employments. In both they exercised judicial powers; and in the theatre and the court, the same men judged all causes, capital and not capital. So much for democracies.
Source: Cicero, On the Commonwealth, Book 3, tr. C.D. Yonge,
Questions for Review
1. In his argument against natural justice, Philus maintains that justice varies from place to place. What are his examples of this?
2. In the section on true justice vs. practical benefit, Scipio presents an example of two people, one just and the other unjust. What are their respective situations, and which does Scipio think that we would prefer?
3. In the same section, Philus argues that human practice confirms the benefit of injustice. What are his examples of this?
4. In Laelius’s defense of natural justice, how does he describe natural law and natural justice, and how does this affect the person who has the virtue of natural justice?
5. What are Scipio’s main arguments against democracies?
Questions for Analysis
1. In his criticism of natural justice, Philus argues that justice varies from place to place. Is this a good criticism of natural justice? Explain.
2. In his criticism of natural justice, Philus argues that justice is inconsistent with worldly wisdom, such as how we are taught to gain wealth and power. Is this a good criticism of natural justice? Explain.
3. In his criticism of natural justice, Philus argues that justice is not the result of conscience, but of human weakness and the need to band together for protection. Explain the social contract argument that he presents there and say whether you agree with it.
4. In the section on true justice vs. practical benefit, Scipio argues that the benefits of injustice are outweighed by the disbenefits of remorse. Explain his argument and say whether you agree.
5. Scipio argues that commonwealths are best comprised of wise and virtuous aristocratic governments. Explain why he holds this view and what might be wrong with it.
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#4
THE EARTHLY AND HEAVENLY CITIES
Augustine
Augustine (354–430) was Bishop of the North African city of Hippo, and is among the most influential early Christian theologians and philosophers. He lived at a time when the Roman Empire was being invaded by barbarian tribes, and this experience helped shape his political philosophy, which he expressed in his great book The City of God. In the selections below from this, Augustine contrasts the value system of what he calls the “two cities”. The earthly city is driven by only human interests and love of self, and it strives after only earthly peace. The heavenly city, by contrast, consists of those who love God and strive after eternal peace. Believers in God are members of the heavenly city, but, while detained here on earth, they are like travelers—or resident aliens—who temporarily live within the earthly city. The peace of both cities, Augustine argues, is grounded in God’s eternal law, the chief principles of which are loving God and loving one’s neighbor. Eternal law also mandates civil harmony through harming no one and doing good to others; it mandates domestic harmony by having husbands rule their wives, parents their children, and masters their servants. The heavenly city travelers live in harmony within the earthly city, and benefit from the bodily security that it offers. In international matters, Augustine believes that human affairs would be happier if all kingdoms were small and lived in neighborly harmony. Empires like that of the Romans, though, expand their territory through brutal wars and try to unify conquered nations by imposing a single language on them. Ultimately, though, these wars of unity require great bloodshed and bring on long term misery of social and civil unrest. Another work by Augustine, titled Contra Faustum, defends God’s role in wars, particularly those waged by Moses in the Old Testament, which critics have depicted as especially brutal and unjust. According to Augustine, God commands wars with an aim towards just retribution, not cruelty, and wars are justified when done in obedience to God. God has his own conceptions of justice that are unknowable to us, and he judges us from a timeless perspective. Thus, wars ordained by God are aimed at punishing injustice, even if we cannot understand exactly why the enemies are unjust and deserve punishment.
THE TWO CITIES
Differences between the Two Cities (CG 14.1)
We have already stated in the preceding books that God desired that the human race might be able by their similarity of nature to associate with one another. He also desired that they might be bound together in harmony and peace by the ties of relationship. Accordingly, he happily created all people from one individual, and gave humans such a nature that the members of the race should not have died, had not the two first (of whom the one was created out of nothing, and the other out of him) deserved this by their disobedience. For they committed such a great sin that human nature was altered by it for the worse, and this was passed on to their offspring, namely, the capacity to sin and to die. The kingdom of death reigned so much over people that the deserved penalty of sin would have hurled all headlong even into a second and eternal death, if it had not been for the undeserved grace of God which saved some people from it. It has come about that there are very many and great nations all over the earth, whose rituals, customs, speech, and dress, are distinguished by clear differences. Nevertheless, there are no more than two kinds of human societies, which we may justly call two cities, according to the language of our Scriptures. The one consists of those who wish to live after the body, the other of those who wish to live after the spirit. When they respectively achieve what they wish, they live in peace, each after their kind.
Two Cities formed by Two Loves (CG 14.28)
Accordingly, two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self (even to the point of contempt for God); the heavenly by the love of God (even to the point of contempt for self). The former, in a word, praises itself, the latter the Lord. The one seeks praise from men, but the other seeks the greatest praise which is from God, the witness of conscience. The one lifts up its head in its own glory; the other says to God, "You are my glory, and the lifter up of my head." In the one, the princes and the nations it subdues are ruled by the love of ruling; in the other, the princes and the subjects serve one another in love, the latter obeying, while the former show consideration for all. The one delights in its own strength, represented in the persons of its rulers; the other says to its God, "I will love You, O Lord, my strength." Therefore the wise men of the one city, living according to man, have sought for profit to their own bodies or souls, or both. Those of them who had once known God "did not glorify him as God; they were unthankful, became proud in their thoughts, and their foolish hearts were darkened as they professed themselves to be wise." That is, praising their own wisdom, and being possessed with pride—"they became fools, and exchanged the praise of the immortal God for images made like mortal man, birds, animals, and reptiles." For they were either leaders or followers of the people in worshiping images, "and worshipped and served the creature more than the Creator, who is blessed forever" (Romans 1:21-25). But in the other city there is no human wisdom, but only godliness, which offers proper worship of the true God, and looks for its reward in the society of the saints, of holy angels as well as holy men, "that God may be all in all."
Peace through the Eternal Law (CG 19.14)
The whole use of temporal things has a reference to the result of earthly peace in the earthly community. In the city of God, though, it is connected with eternal peace. . . . So long as man is in this mortal body, he is a stranger to God, he walks by faith, not by sight. He therefore refers all peace, bodily or spiritual or both, to that peace which mortal man has with the immortal God, so that he exhibits the well-ordered obedience of faith to eternal law. This divine Master instills in us two precepts: the love of God and the love of our neighbor. In these precepts a man finds three things he has to love: God, himself, and his neighbor. Thus, he who loves God loves himself. Consequently, he must try to get his neighbor to love God, since he is ordered to love his neighbor as himself. He ought to make this effort on behalf of his wife, his children, his household, all within his reach, even as he would wish his neighbor to do the same for him if he needed it. Consequently, he will be at peace, or in well-ordered harmony, with all men, as far as he can. This is the order of this harmony: first, that a man injure no one, and, second, to do good to everyone he can reach. Primarily, therefore, his own household is his care, since the law of nature and of society gives him immediate access to them and greater opportunity of serving them. Hence the apostle says, "If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever" (1 Timothy 5:8). This is the origin of domestic peace, or the well-ordered harmony of those in the family who rule and those who obey. For they who care for the rest rule. The husband rules the wife, the parents the children, the masters the servants. Those who are cared for obey: women their husbands, children their parents, servants their masters. But in the family of the just man who lives by faith and is like a traveler journeying on to the heavenly city, even those who rule serve those whom they seem to command. For they do not rule from a love of power, but from a sense of the duty they owe to others. It is not because they are proud of authority, but because they love mercy.
Servitude Introduced by Sin (CG 19.15)
This is prescribed by the order of nature: it is thus that God has created man. For "let them," he says, "have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every creeping thing which creeps on the earth" (Genesis 1.26). He did not intend that his rational creature, who was made in his image, should have dominion over anything but the irrational creation—not man over man, but man over the animals. Hence the righteous men in ancient times were made shepherds of cattle rather than kings of men, God intending thus to teach us what the relative position of the creatures is, and what the desert of sin; for it is with justice, we believe, that the condition of slavery is the result of sin. This is why we do not find the word "slave" in any part of Scripture until righteous Noah branded the sin of his son with this name. It is a name, therefore, introduced by sin and not by nature. . . .
Domestic Peace (CG 19.16)
. . . If any member of the family interrupts domestic peace by disobedience, he is corrected either with words or by striking, or some kind of just and legitimate punishment which society permits. By doing so he may himself be the better for it, and be readjusted to the family harmony from which he had dislocated himself. Just as it is not benevolent to give a man help at the expense of some greater benefit he might receive, so too it is not right to spare a man at the risk of his falling into graver sin. To be morally innocent, we must not only do harm to no man, but also restrain him from sin or punish his sin. By doing so, either the man himself who is punished may profit by his experience, or others may be deterred by his example. The house ought to be the beginning or component of the city. Now, every beginning bears reference to some end of its own kind, and every component to the integrity of the whole of which it is a component. It plainly follows that domestic peace has a relation to civic peace. In other words, the well-ordered harmony of domestic obedience and domestic rule has a relation to the well-ordered harmony of civic obedience and civic rule. Therefore, the father of the family ought to frame his domestic rule in accordance with the law of the city, so that the household may be in harmony with the civic order.
Peace and Discord between the Two Cities (CG 19.17)
But the families which do not live by faith seek their peace in the earthly advantages of this life. By contrast, the families that live by faith look for those eternal blessings which are promised. As travelers, they do not use those advantages of time and place that preoccupy them or divert them from God. Rather, they use those that aid them to endure with greater ease, and to keep down the number of those burdens of the mortal body that weigh upon the soul. Thus the things necessary for this mortal life are used by both kinds of men and families alike, but each has its own peculiar and widely different aim in using them. The earthly city, which does not live by faith, seeks an earthly peace. The end it proposes, in the well-ordered harmony of civic obedience and rule, is the combination of men's wills to attain the things which are helpful to this life. The heavenly city, or rather the part of it which travels on earth and lives by faith, makes use of this peace only because it must, until this mortal condition which necessitates it shall pass away. Consequently, so long as it lives like a captive and a stranger in the earthly city, (though it has already received the promise of redemption, and the gift of the Spirit as the earnest of it) it makes no scruple to obey the laws of the earthly city, whereby the things necessary for the maintenance of this mortal life are administered. Thus, as this life is common to both cities, so there is a harmony between them in regard to what belongs to it.
But, the earthly city has had some [polytheistic] philosophers whose doctrine is condemned by divine teaching. They are deceived either by their own conjectures or by demons. . . . The heavenly city, on the other hand, knew that one God only was to be worshipped, and that to him alone was due that service which the Greeks call adoration (latreia λατρεία), and which can be given only to a god. Consequently, the two cities could not have common laws of religion. The heavenly city has been compelled to dissent in this matter, and to become hated by those who think differently, and to stand the brunt of their anger and hatred and persecutions. The minds of some of their enemies, though, have been alarmed by the multitude of the Christians, and suppressed by the evident protection of God given to them. This heavenly city, then, while it travels on earth, calls citizens out of all nations, and gathers together a society of travelers of all languages. They do not scruple about differences in the customs, laws, and institutions whereby earthly peace is secured and maintained. Rather, they recognize that, however different these are, they all tend to one and the same end of earthly peace. It therefore is so far from revoking and abolishing these diversities, that it even preserves and adopts them, so long only as no hindrance to the worship of the one supreme and true God is thus introduced.
Even the heavenly city, therefore, while in its state of travel, takes advantage of the peace of earth. So far as it can without injuring faith and godliness, it desires and maintains a common agreement among men regarding the acquisition of the necessities of life, and makes this earthly peace bear upon the peace of heaven. For this alone can be truly called and properly judged to be the peace of the reasonable creatures, consisting as it does in the perfectly ordered and harmonious enjoyment of God and of one another in God. When we shall have reached that peace, this mortal life shall give place to one that is eternal, and our body shall be no more this animal body which by its corruption weighs down the soul. Instead, it shall be a spiritual body feeling no wants, and in all its members subjected to the will. In its travelling state, the heavenly city possesses this peace by faith. By this faith it lives righteously when it looks towards the attainment of that peace for every good action towards God and man. For the life of the city is a social life.
AGAINST EXTENDING ONE’S EMPIRE
The Liabilities of Acquiring too Much (CG 4.3)
. . . I should like to briefly inquire what reason and good judgment there is in wishing to glory in the greatness and extent of the empire. You cannot point out the happiness of men who are always rolling, with dark fear and cruel lust, in warlike slaughters and in blood. Whether shed in civil or foreign war, it is still human blood. Thus, their joy may be compared to glass in its fragile splendor, of which one is horribly afraid that it should be suddenly broken in pieces. That this may be more easily understood, let us not be uselessly carried away with empty boasting, or blunt the edge of our attention by loud-sounding names of things, when we hear of nations, kingdoms, provinces. But let us suppose a case of two men. Each individual man, like one letter in a language, is as it were the element of a city or kingdom, however far-spreading in its occupation of the earth. Of these two men let us suppose that one is poor, or rather of moderate wealth; the other very rich. But the rich man is anxious with fears, longing with discontent, burning with desire, never secure, always uneasy, breathless from perpetual strife with his enemies. To a great degree, these miseries supplement his wealth and pile up the bitterest worries. But the other man of moderate wealth is content with a small and contained estate, that most dear to his own family, enjoying the sweetest peace with his relatives, neighbors and friends, religiously upright, gentle in mind, healthy in body, frugal in life, simple in manners, and sincere in conscience. I do not know anyone who could be such a fool, that he’d dare hesitate which to prefer. As, therefore, in the case of these two men, so in two families, in two nations, in two kingdoms, this test of tranquility holds good. . . . To the just, all the evils imposed on them by unjust rulers are not the punishment of crime, but the test of virtue. Therefore the good man, although he is a slave, is free. But the bad man, even if he reigns, is a slave, and that not of one man, but, what is far more grievous, of as many masters as he has vices. Of these vices the divine Scripture says, "a man is a slave to whatever has mastered him" (2 Peter 2:19).
Kingdoms without Justice are like Robberies (CG 4.4)
When justice is removed, what are kingdoms but great robberies? For what are robberies themselves, but little kingdoms? The group itself is made up of men; it is ruled by the authority of a prince, it is knit together by the pact of the confederacy; the booty is divided by the agreed upon law. If, by involving unjust men, this evil increases to such a degree that it captures places, claim dwellings, takes possession of cities, and subdues nations, it assumes the more plainly the name of a kingdom. For, the reality is now clearly present with it, not by the removal of greed, but by being exempt from punishment. Indeed, that was an appropriate and true reply which was given to Alexander the Great by a pirate who had been captured. For when Alexander had asked the man why he took hostile possession of the sea, he answered with bold pride, "Why do you seizing the whole earth? Because I do it with a petty ship, I am called a robber, while because you do it with a great fleet are called emperor."
Good People should not Wish to Rule more Widely (CG 4.15)
Let us ask whether it is appropriate for good men to admire empires that are vastly extended. For, the growth of a kingdom is justified by just wars against evil aggressors. Such expansion would certainly have been small if the peace and justice of neighbors had not been upset by some injustice that provoked a war against them. Human affairs would be more happy if all kingdoms would have been small, enjoying in neighborly harmony. There then would have been very many kingdoms of nations in the world, just as there are very many houses of citizens in a city. Thus, to carry on war and extend a kingdom over entirely subdued nations seems to give enjoyment to bad men, while to good men it is only a necessity [for protection]. But because it would be worse for harmful people to rule over those who are more righteous, even that is not unsuitably called enjoyment. But without doubt there is greater enjoyment to be at peace with a good neighbor, than to conquer a bad one by making war. Your intentions are bad when you desire that someone you hate or fear should be in a situation where you can conquer him. Suppose that the Romans acquired their great empire only by carrying on wars that were just, and not wicked or unrighteous. Should they not, then, worship as a goddess [i.e., appreciate] the injustice of foreigners? For we see that this has greatly assisted them in extending their empire, that is, by making foreigners so unjust that they became people with whom just wars might be carried on, and the empire increased. . . .
WARS
Language Diversity, Wars of Unity, and the Tragedy of even Just Wars (CG 19.7)
After the state or city comes the world, the third circle of human society—the first being the house, and the second the city. The world is fuller of dangers since it is larger, just as the larger sea is the more dangerous. Here, first of all, man is separated from man by the difference of languages. Suppose that two men, each without knowledge of the other's language, meet and are not compelled to pass, but instead remain in each other’s company. Dumb animals, even of different species, would more easily have communication than they, even though they are human beings. For, their common nature is no help to friendliness when they are prevented by diversity of language from conveying their thoughts to one another. Thus, a man would more readily hold conversation with his dog than with a foreigner. But the imperial city has endeavored to impose on subject nations not only her yoke, but her language, as a bond of peace. Thus, interpreters, far from being scarce, are numberless. This is true. But how many great wars, how much slaughter and bloodshed, have provided this unity! Though these are past, the end of these miseries has not yet come. There have never been lacking, nor are yet lacking, hostile nations beyond the empire, against whom wars have been and are waged. Suppose, though, that there were no hostile nations. The very extent of the empire itself has produced wars of a more obnoxious description: social and civil wars. With these the whole race has been worried because of either actual conflict or the fear of a renewed outbreak.
If I attempted to give an adequate description of these many disasters, these stern and lasting necessities, though I am quite unequal to the task, what limit could I set? But, they say, the wise man will wage just wars. As if he would not all the more lament the necessity of just wars, if he remembers that he is a man. For if they were not just he would not wage them, and would therefore be delivered from all wars. For it is the wrongdoing of the opposing party which compels the wise man to wage just wars. This wrong-doing, even though it gave rise to no war, would still be matter of grief to man because it is man's wrong-doing. Let everyone, then, who thinks with pain on all these great evils, so horrible, so ruthless, acknowledge that this is misery. If anyone either endures or thinks of them without mental pain, this is a more miserable predicament still, for he thinks himself happy because he has lost human feeling.
All Wars Aim at Peace (CG 19.12-13)
Peace is such a great good, that even in this earthly and mortal life there is no word we hear with such pleasure, nothing we desire with such enthusiasm, or find to be more thoroughly gratifying. . . . Whoever gives even moderate attention to human affairs and to our common nature, will recognize that if there is no man who does not wish to be joyful, neither is there anyone who does not wish to have peace. For even they who make war desire nothing but victory—that is to say, desire to attain to peace with glory. For what else is victory than the conquest of those who resist us? And when this is done there is peace. It is therefore with the desire for peace that wars are waged, even by those who take pleasure in exercising their warlike nature in command and battle. Hence it is obvious that peace is the end sought for by war. For every man seeks peace by waging war, but no man seeks war by making peace. For even they who intentionally interrupt the peace in which they are living have no hatred of peace, but only wish it changed into a peace that suits them better. They do not, therefore, wish to have no peace, but only an added peace to their mind. . . . As, then, there may be life without pain, while there cannot be pain without some kind of life, so there may be peace without war, but there cannot be war without some kind of peace, because war supposes the existence of some natures to wage it, and these natures cannot exist without peace of one kind or other.
GOD AND WAR
God Commands Wars with Just Retribution, not Cruelty (CF 22.74)
. . . The account of the wars of Moses should not excite surprise or abhorrence. For in wars carried on by divine command, he did not show cruelty but obedience. God in giving the command, acted not in cruelty, but in just retribution, giving to all what they deserved, and warning those who needed warning. What is the evil in war? Is it the death of some who will soon die in any case, that others may live in peaceful subjection? This is mere cowardly dislike, not any religious feeling. The real evils in war are love of violence, revengeful cruelty, fierce and merciless hostility, extreme resistance, and the lust for power, and such like. It is generally to punish these things, when force is required to inflict the punishment, that, in obedience to God or some lawful authority, good men undertake wars. They find themselves in such a position as regards the conduct of human affairs, that right conduct requires them to act, or to make others act in this way. . . .
Wars Justified when in Obedience to God (CF 22.75)
A great deal depends on the causes for which men undertake wars, and on the authority they have for doing so. For the natural order which seeks the peace of mankind, ordains that the monarch should have the power of undertaking war if he thinks it advisable, and that the soldiers should perform their military duties in behalf of the peace and safety of the community. When war is undertaken in obedience to God (who would reprimand, humble, or crush the pride of man), it must be allowed to be a just war. For even the wars which arise from human passion cannot harm the eternal well-being of God, nor even hurt his saints. For in the trial of their patience, and the chastening of their spirit, and in bearing fatherly correction, they are rather benefited than injured. No one can have any power against them but what is given him from above. “For there is no power except what God establishes” (Romans 13:1) who either orders or permits. A righteous man, who might serve under an ungodly king, may perform the duty belonging to his position in the State in fighting by the order of his sovereign. For in some cases it is plainly the will of God that he should fight, and in others, where this is not so plain, it may be an unrighteous command on the part of the king, while the soldier is innocent, because his position makes obedience a duty. How much more must the man be blameless who carries on war on the authority of God, of whom everyone who serves him knows that he can never require what is wrong?
Turning the Other Cheek is Consistent with Divinely Ordained Wars (CF 22.76)
Some may suppose that God could not command warfare, because in later times it was said by the Lord Jesus Christ, “But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Matthew 5:39). In response, what is here required is not a bodily action, but an inward disposition. The sacred seat of virtue is the heart, and such were the hearts of our fathers, the righteous men of old. But order required such a regulation of events, and such a distinction of times, as to show first of all that even earthly blessings are entirely under the control and at the disposal of the one true God. For temporal kingdoms and victory over enemies are considered to be earthly blessings, and these are the things which the community of the ungodly all over the world are continually begging from idols and devils. . . .
Old Testament does not Contradict New Testament (CF 22.77)
Our foolish opponents may be surprised at the difference between the rules given by God to the ministers of the Old Testament (at a time when the grace of the New was still undisclosed), and those given to the preachers of the New Testament (now that the obscurity of the Old is removed). But they will also find Christ himself saying one thing at one time, and another at another. . . . [For example,] at one time Jesus says, "I sent you without bag, or purse, or shoes, and you lacked nothing;" at another, "Now let him that has a scrip take it, and also a purse; and he that has a tunic, let him sell it and buy a sword" (Luke 22:35-36). But does not this show how, without any inconsistency, precepts and counsels and permissions may be changed, as different times require different arrangements? Some may say that there was a symbolic meaning in the command to take a bag and purse, and to buy a sword. But why, then, may there not be a symbolic meaning in the fact, that one and the same God commanded the prophets in old times to make war, and forbade the apostles? . . .
God’s Reasons for Justice are Unknowable (CF 22.78)
It is therefore mere groundless misrepresentation to charge Moses with making war. For there would have been less harm by agreeing with God and making war, than in not doing it when God commanded him. From the perspective of divine providence, which pervades all things from the highest to the lowest, time can neither add anything nor take away. Thus, to dare to find fault with God himself for giving such a command, or not to believe it possible that a just and good God did so, shows, to say the least, an inability to consider this [timeless] aspect of divine providence. But all things come or go or remain according to the order of nature or what is deserved in each separate case. Within men, a right will is in union with the divine law, and ungoverned passion is restrained by the order of divine law. Consequently, a good man wills only what is commanded, and a bad man can do only what he is permitted, while at the same time he is punished for what he wills to do unjustly. Thus, in all the things which appear shocking and terrible to human feebleness, the real evil is the injustice; the rest is only the result of natural properties or of moral demerit. . . .
The ignorance and infirmity which prevent a man from knowing his duty, or from doing all he wishes to do, belong to God's secret punishment arrangement, and to his unknowable judgments, for with him there is no injustice. This much we know. But the reasons for this distribution of divine judgment and mercy, why one is in this condition, and another in that, though just, are unknown. Still, we are sure that all these things are due either to the mercy or the judgment of God, while the measures and numbers and weights by which the Creator of all natural productions arranges all things are concealed from our view. While God is not the author of sin, he is the controller of it. Thus, sinful actions, which are sinful because they are against nature, are judged and controlled, and assigned to their proper place and condition, in order that they may not bring discord and disgrace on universal nature. The judgments of God and the movements of man's will contain the hidden reason why the same prosperous circumstances which some make a right use of are the ruin of others, and the same afflictions under which some give way are profitable to others, and the whole mortal life of man upon earth is a trial (Job 7:4). This being the case, who can tell whether it may be good or bad in any particular case—in time of peace, to reign or to serve, or to be at ease or to die—or in time of war, to command or to fight, or to conquer or to be killed? At the same time, it remains true, that whatever is good is so by the divine blessing, and whatever is bad is so by the divine judgment.
Source: Augustine, City of God, Books 4, 14, and 19, tr. Marcus Dods; Contra Faustum, Book 22, tr. Richard Stothert.
Questions for Review
1. What are the primary differences between the two cities, and how is there both harmony and discord between them?
2. In the discussion of extending one’s empire, Augustine examines a case of two men. Describe these two men and which we would prefer to be.
3. In the section on peace through the eternal law, what are the two main precepts, the three loves, and the principles of civic and domestic harmony?
4. For Augustine, the origin of servitude and slavery was sin. What was God’s intention in this regard in the garden of Eden and before the time of Noah?
5. In the section on God and War, what are some of Augustine’s arguments in defense of Moses?
Questions for Analysis
1. Explain Augustine’s view of domestic peace and whether you agree with it.
2. For Augustine, the main point of discord between the heavenly and earthly cities is their respective advocacy of monotheism vs. polytheism. Are their ways of resolving this discord? Explain.
3. Augustine argues that a soldier who fights in an unjust war is blameless and simply follows his duty as he is ordered. Why might Augustine hold that position, and what if anything is wrong with it?
4. Augustine argues that wars justified when in obedience to God, even if we do not understand God’s conception of justice. Is anything wrong with this view? Explain.
5. Augustine argues that Jesus’ command for us to turn the other cheek requires an inward disposition, not a bodily action. Thus, this command of Jesus is consistent with God telling us to go to war. Explain this position and say whether you agree with it.
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#5
NATURAL LAW
Thomas Aquinas
Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) was born in what is now central Italy and spent his life as a priest and scholar in the Roman Catholic Church. His most famous work is the voluminous Summa Theologica, in which he presents what is probably the most influential account on natural law, a theory that is foundation in both moral and political philosophy. Most simply, the theory is that God embeds various values within our natural instincts, which we discover through reason; these provide the substance to both our morals and laws. For Aquinas, there are four kinds of law. Eternal law is God’s unchanging laws of the universe. Natural law is a subset eternal law, which God implants in human instincts and we discover through reflection. These are very general rules, such as “don’t harm others.” Human law is an effort by humans to take the general principles of natural law and deduce specific applications from them, such as “don’t write bad checks.” Finally, divine law, as contained in the Bible, reinforces the principles of natural law and adds special religious ones. Concerning natural law, Aquinas argues that there is one highest principle from which all others are derived: “Good is to be done and evil is to be avoided.” We determine what is “good” for us by looking at our human inclinations, and he notes six relevant ones: self-preservation, sexual intercourse, educating our offspring, rationality, knowledge of God, and living in society. From these we infer six primary principles of natural law: 1) preserve human life, (2) procreate, (3) educate your children, (4) shun ignorance, (5) worship God, and (6) be sociable and do not harm others. Each of these primary principles encompasses more specific or secondary principles. For example, the primary principle “do not harm others” implies the secondary principles “don’t steal” and “don’t kill.” These, in turn, imply even more specific or tertiary principles, such as “don’t write bad checks.” As the principles become more specific they leave the domain of natural law and enter that of human law. When considering whether natural law is the same in all people, Aquinas argues that the primary principles are common to everyone, such as “do not harm others.” However, more particular tertiary derivations of human law are not necessarily common to all societies. He argues that human law carry the force of natural law if they are derived correctly; however, “if in any point it deflects from the law of nature, it is no longer a law but a perversion of law.”
Aquinas next considers whether people were initially designed in the state of innocence (i.e., the Garden of Eden) to rule over others. He argues that there is indeed a natural inequality among people; there is thus a natural master-subject relation, but no master-slave relation. In selections from another work titled On the Governance of Rulers, Aquinas explains the nature and responsibility of kings. People naturally need a ruler to help guide people to their proper end, since we were not naturally designed to survive alone. The King’s main three obligations are to establish the good life for his subjects, preserve that good like, and improve upon it. In a final selection from Summa Theologica, Aquinas articulates three necessary criteria for any war to be morally just. First, it must be declared by the proper authority; private individuals cannot declare war or summon people to fight. Second, there must be a just cause, such as to address some fault or make amends for some wrong done by a rival country. Third, it must proceed from rightful intention, particularly the advancement of good, or the avoidance of evil.
FOUR KINDS OF LAW
Whether there is an Eternal Law (ST 1a2ae.91.1)
A law is nothing else but a dictate of practical reason originating from the ruler who governs a perfect community. Now it is evident, granted that the world is ruled by Divine Providence, … that the whole community of the universe is governed by Divine Reason. For this reason the very Idea of the government of things in God the Ruler of the universe, has the nature of a law. And since the Divine Reason’s conception of things is not subject to time but is eternal, according to Proverbs 8:23, therefore it is that this kind of law must be called eternal.
Whether there is in us a Natural Law (ST 1a2ae.91.2)
Law, being a rule and measure, can be in a person in two ways: in one way, as in him that rules and measures; in another way, as in that which is ruled and measured, since a thing is ruled and measured, in so far as it partakes of the rule or measure. For this reason, since all things subject to Divine providence are ruled and measured by the eternal law, as was stated above. It is evident that all things partake somewhat of the eternal law, in so far as, namely, from its being imprinted on them, they derive their respective inclinations to their proper acts and ends. Now among all others, the rational creature is subject to Divine providence in the most excellent way, in so far as it partakes of a share of providence, by being provident both for itself and for others. For this reason it has a share of the Eternal Reason, whereby it has a natural inclination to its proper act and end. This participation of the eternal law in the rational creature is called the natural law. Hence the Psalmist after saying (Palms 4:6): “Offer up the sacrifice of justice,” as though someone asked what the works of justice are, adds: “Many say, Who showeth us good things?” in answer to which question he says: “The light of Thy countenance, O Lord, is signed upon us”: thus implying that the light of natural reason, whereby we discern what is good and what is evil, which is the function of the natural law, is nothing else than an imprint on us of the Divine light. It is therefore evident that the natural law is nothing else than the rational creature’s participation in the eternal law.
Whether there is Human Law (ST 1a2ae.91.3)
A law is a dictate of the practical reason. Now it is to be observed that the same procedure takes place in the practical and in the speculative reason. For each proceeds from principles to conclusions, as stated above. In the speculative reason, from naturally known indemonstrable principles, we draw the conclusions of the various sciences, the knowledge of which is not imparted to us by nature, but acquired by the efforts of reason. So too it is from the precepts of the natural law, as from general and indemonstrable principles, that the human reason needs to proceed to the more particular determination of certain matters. These particular determinations, devised by human reason, are called human laws, provided the other essential conditions of law be observed . . . . For this reason Cicero says in his Rhetoric that “justice has its source in nature; from this certain things came into custom by reason of their utility; afterwards these things which originated from nature and were approved by custom, were sanctioned by fear and reverence for the law.”
Whether there was any Need for a Divine Law (ST 1a2ae.91.4)
Besides the natural and the human law it was necessary for the directing of human conduct to have a Divine law. And this for four reasons. First, because it is by law that man is directed how to perform his proper acts in view of his last end. Indeed if man were ordained to no other end than that which is proportionate to his natural faculty, there would be no need for man to have any further direction of the part of his reason, besides the natural law and human law which is derived from it. But since man is ordained to an end of eternal happiness which is disproportionate to man’s natural faculty … therefore it was necessary that, besides the natural and the human law, man should be directed to his end by a law given by God. Secondly, because, on account of the uncertainty of human judgment, especially on contingent and particular matters, different people form different judgments on human acts. From this different and contrary laws also result. In order, therefore, that man may know without any doubt what he ought to do and what he ought to avoid, it was necessary for man to be directed in his proper acts by a law given by God, for it is certain that such a law cannot err.
Thirdly, because man can make laws in those matters of which he is competent to judge. But man is not competent to judge of internal movements, that are hidden, but only of external acts which appear: and yet for the perfection of virtue it is necessary for man to conduct himself aright in both kinds of acts. Consequently human law could not sufficiently curb and direct internal acts; and it was necessary for this purpose that a Divine law should also come about. Fourthly, because, as Augustine says, human law cannot punish or forbid all evil deeds. Since while aiming at doing away with all evils, it would do away with many good things, and would hinder the advance of the common good, which is necessary for human intercourse. In order, therefore, that no evil might remain unforbidden and unpunished, it was necessary for the Divine law to supervene, whereby all sins are forbidden.
These four causes are touched upon in Palms. 118:8, where it is said: “The law of the Lord is unspotted,” i.e. allowing no foulness of sin; “converting souls,” because it directs not only external, but also internal acts; “the testimony of the Lord is faithful,” because of the certainty of what is true and right; “giving wisdom to little ones,” by directing man to an end supernatural and Divine.
NATURAL AND HUMAN LAW
Whether the Natural Law contains Several Precepts, or Only One (ST 1a2ae.94.2)
As stated above (91.3), the precepts of the natural law are to the practical reason, what the first principles of demonstrations are to the speculative reason; because both are self-evident principles. Now a thing is said to be self-evident in two ways: first, in itself; secondly, in relation to us. Any proposition is said to be self-evident in itself, if its predicate is contained in the notion of the subject. Although, to one who does not know the definition of the subject, it happens that such a proposition is not self-evident. For instance, this proposition, “Man is a rational being,” is, in its very nature, self-evident, since who says “man,” says “a rational being”: and yet to one who knows not what a man is, this proposition is not self-evident. Hence it is that, as Boethius says (De Hebdom.), certain axioms or propositions are universally self-evident to all; and such are those propositions whose terms are known to all, as, “Every whole is greater than its part,” and, “Things equal to one and the same are equal to one another.” But some propositions are self-evident only to the wise, who understand the meaning of the terms of such propositions: thus to one who understands that an angel is not a body, it is self-evident that an angel is not circumscriptively in a place: but this is not evident to the unlearned, for they cannot grasp it.
Now a certain order is to be found in those things that are apprehended universally. For that which, before anything else, falls under apprehension, is “being,” the notion of which is included in all things whatsoever a man apprehends. Thus, the first indemonstrable principle is that “the same thing cannot be affirmed and denied at the same time,” which is based on the notion of “being” and “not-being”: and on this principle all others are based, as is stated in [Aristotle’s] Metaphysics 4.9. Now as “being” is the first thing that falls under the apprehension simply, so “good” is the first thing that falls under the apprehension of the practical reason, which is directed to action: since every agent acts for an end under the aspect of good. Consequently the first principle of practical reason is one founded on the notion of good, viz. that “good is that which all things seek after.” Hence this is the first precept of law, that “good is to be done and pursued, and evil is to be avoided.” All other precepts of the natural law are based upon this: so that whatever the practical reason naturally apprehends as man’s good (or evil) belongs to the precepts of the natural law as something to be done or avoided.
Since, however, good has the nature of an end, and evil, the nature of a contrary, hence it is that all those things to which man has a natural inclination, are naturally apprehended by reason as being good. Consequently these are objects of pursuit, and their contraries are evil, and objects of avoidance. Thus, according to the order of natural inclinations is the order of the precepts of the natural law. First of all, there is in man an inclination to good in accordance with the nature which he has in common with all substances, to the extent that every substance seeks the preservation of its own being, according to its nature. By reason of this inclination, whatever is a means of preserving human life, and of warding off its obstacles, belongs to the natural law. Secondly, there is in man an inclination to things that pertain to him more specially, according to that nature which he has in common with other animals. In virtue of this inclination, those things are said to belong to the natural law, “which nature has taught to all animals,” such as sexual intercourse, education of offspring and so forth. Thirdly, there is in man an inclination to good, according to the nature of his reason, which nature is proper to him. Thus man has a natural inclination to know the truth about God, and to live in society. In this respect, whatever pertains to this inclination belongs to the natural law; for instance, to shun ignorance, to avoid offending those among whom one has to live, and other such things regarding the above inclination.
Whether the Natural Law is the Same in All Men (ST 1a2ae.94.4)
To the natural law belongs those things to which a man is inclined naturally. Among these it is proper to man to be inclined to act according to reason. Now the process of reason is from the common to the proper, as stated in [Aristotle’s] Physics 1. The speculative reason, however, is differently situated in this matter, from the practical reason. For, since the speculative reason is busied chiefly with the necessary things, which cannot be otherwise than they are, its proper conclusions, like the universal principles, contain the truth without fail. The practical reason, on the other hand, is busied with contingent matters, about which human actions are concerned. Consequently, although there is necessity in the general principles, the more we descend to matters of detail, the more frequently we encounter defects. Accordingly, in speculative matters truth is the same in all men, both as to principles and as to conclusions. However, the truth is not known to all as regards the conclusions, but only as regards the principles which are called common notions. But in matters of action, truth or practical rightness is not the same for all, as to matters of detail, but only as to the general principles: and where there is the same rightness in matters of detail, it is not equally known to all.
It is therefore evident that, as regards the general principles whether of speculative or of practical reason, truth or rightness is the same for all, and is equally known by all. As to the proper conclusions of the speculative reason, the truth is the same for all, but is not equally known to all. Thus it is true for all that the three angles of a triangle are together equal to two right angles, although it is not known to all. But as to the proper conclusions of the practical reason, neither is the truth or rightness the same for all, nor, where it is the same, is it equally known by all. Thus it is right and true for all to act according to reason. From this principle it follows as a proper conclusion, that goods entrusted to another should be restored to their owner. Now this is true for the majority of cases. But it may happen in a particular case that it would be injurious, and therefore unreasonable, to restore goods held in trust; for instance, if they are claimed for the purpose of fighting against one’s country. And this principle will be found to fail the more, according as we descend further into detail. This is so, for example, if one were to say that goods held in trust should be restored with such and such a guarantee, or in such and such a way. For, the greater the number of conditions added, the greater the number of ways in which the principle may fail, so that it be not right to restore or not to restore.
Consequently we must say that the natural law, as to general principles, is the same for all, both as to rightness and as to knowledge. But as to certain matters of detail, which are conclusions, as it were, of those general principles, it is the same for all in the majority of cases, both as to rightness and as to knowledge. Yet in some few cases it may fail, both as to rightness, by reason of certain obstacles. This is just as natures subject to generation and corruption fail in some few cases on account of some obstacle. As to knowledge, some people’s reason is perverted by passion, evil habit, or an evil disposition of nature. Thus formerly, theft, although it is expressly contrary to the natural law, was not considered wrong among the Germans, as Julius Caesar relates.
Whether every Human Law is Derived from the Natural Law (ST 1a2ae.95.2)
As Augustine says (On Free Choice 1.5) “that which is not just seems to be no law at all.” Thus the force of a law depends on the extent of its justice. Now in human affairs a thing is said to be just, from being right, according to the rule of reason. But the first rule of reason is the law of nature, as is clear from what has been stated above (91.2). Consequently every human law has just so much of the nature of law, as it is derived from the law of nature. But if in any point it deflects from the law of nature, it is no longer a law but a perversion of law.
But it must be noted that something may be derived from the natural law in two ways: first, as a conclusion from premises, secondly, by way of determination of certain generalities. The first way is like to that by which, in sciences, demonstrated conclusions are drawn from the principles. The second way is likened to that whereby, in the arts, general forms are particularized as to details: thus the craftsman needs to determine the general form of a house to some particular shape. Some things are therefore derived from the general principles of the natural law, by way of conclusions. For example, that “one must not kill” may be derived as a conclusion from the principle that “one should do harm to no man.” But some are derived from them by way of determination. For example, the law of nature has it that the evil-doer should be punished; but that he be punished in this or that way, is a determination of the law of nature.
Accordingly, both types of derivation are found in the human law. But those things which are derived in the first way, are contained in human law not as originating from them exclusively, but have some force from the natural law also. But those things which are derived in the second way, have no other force than that of human law . . . . The general principles of the natural law cannot be applied to all men in the same way on account of the great variety of human affairs. Hence arises the diversity of positive laws among various people.
NATURAL SERVITUDE
Human Inequality in the State of Innocence (ST 1a.96.3)
We must admit that in the primitive state there would have been some inequality, at least as regards sex, because generation depends upon diversity of sex: and likewise as regards age. For some would have been born of others; nor would sexual union have been sterile. Moreover, as regards the soul, there would have been inequality as to righteousness and knowledge. For man worked not of necessity, but of his own free-will, by virtue of which man can apply himself, more or less, to action, desire, or knowledge. Hence some would have made a greater advance in virtue and knowledge than others. There might also have been bodily disparity. For the human body was not entirely exempt from the laws of nature, so as not to receive from external sources more or less advantage and help. For, indeed it was dependent on food with which it would sustain life. So we may say that, according to the climate, or the movement of the stars, some would have been born more robust in body than others, and also greater, and more beautiful, and all ways better disposed. However, in those who were thus surpassed, there would have been no defect or fault either in soul or body.
Man Mastering over Man in the State of Innocence (ST 1a.96.4)
Mastership has two meanings. First, as opposed to slavery, in which sense a master means one to whom another is subject as a slave. In another sense mastership is referred in a general sense to any kind of subject. In this sense even he who has the office of governing and directing free men, can be called a master. In the state of innocence man could have been a master of men, not in the former but in the latter sense. This distinction is founded on the reason that a slave differs from a free man in that the latter has the disposal of himself, as is stated in the beginning of [Aristotle’s] Metaphysics, whereas a slave is ordered to another. So that one man is master of another as his slave when he refers the one whose master he is, to his own--namely the master's use. And since every man's proper good is desirable to himself, and consequently it is a grievous matter to anyone to yield to another what ought to be one's own, therefore such dominion implies of necessity a pain inflicted on the subject. Consequently in the state of innocence such a mastership could not have existed between man and man. But a man is the master of a free subject, by directing him either towards his proper welfare, or to the common good. Such a kind of mastership would have existed in the state of innocence between man and man, for two reasons.
First, because man is naturally a social being, and so in the state of innocence he would have led a social life. Now a social life cannot exist among a number of people unless under the presidency of one to look after the common good; for many, as such, seek many things, whereas one attends only to one. Accordingly, the Philosopher [Aristotle] says, in the beginning of the Politics, that wherever many things are directed to one, we shall always find one at the head directing them.
Secondly, if one man surpassed another in knowledge and virtue, this would not have been fitting unless these gifts contributed to the benefit of others. According to 1 Peter 4:10, "Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others." Accordingly, Augustine says (The City of God, 19.14): "Just men command not by the love of domineering, but by the service of counsel." And (The City of God, 19.15): "The natural order of things requires this; and thus did God make man."
THE NATURE AND DUTIES OF A KING
What is Meant by the Name, King (GR 1)
Our plan must begin with an explanation of what is to be understood by the word "king." In all pursuits which are directed toward some end and in which it is possible to proceed in more than one way, there is need of some controlling force by which one may arrive by a straight course at the appointed goal. A ship, driven in various directions by the impulse of varying winds, would never reach her destination were she not guided to the port by the diligence of the helmsman. But for a man there is an end toward which his whole life and action are directed. For he acts by virtue of the intellect, whose property is to act purposefully. Moreover, it happens that men proceed through various ways toward the proper destination of mankind; this is revealed in the diversity of human interests and actions. Man, therefore, needs something to guide him toward his goal. There dwells naturally within every man the light of reason, by which he in his actions is directed toward his proposed end. If it suited man to live singly, as many animals do, he would need no one else to guide him to his end. Every man would be his own king, under God—the supreme king; by the light of reason, divinely given, he would direct himself in all his acts. But it is the nature of man to be a social and political animal, living in a multitude,—more so than other animals, as natural necessity makes clear. For other animals nature has prepared food, coverings of hair, and means of defense—such as teeth, horns, and claws; or, at least, they have speed for flight. Man was created with none of these things prepared for him by nature. In place of them all reason was given him by which he might provide them for himself with the work of his hands. But to obtain such things one man is not sufficient. For one man alone could not live an adequate life. It is, therefore, natural to man to live in the society of many.
Furthermore, in other animals there exists a natural instinct with regard to all things which are beneficial or harmful to them. For example, the sheep naturally considers the wolf his enemy. Animals also by natural instinct know that some herbs are necessary to their lives and that others are medicinal. But only in a community does man have natural knowledge of those things which are necessary to his life, as if having power through reason to obtain from general principles the knowledge of the simple things which are necessary to human life. It is not possible, however, for one man by his own reason to accomplish all of this. It is, therefore, necessary for men to live in multitudes, so that one may be helped by another and different ones may be occupied in discovering different things, through reason. Thus one is engaged in medicine, another in this pursuit, another in that. This system is made very clear in the fact that it is a characteristic of man to use speech, by means of which he is able to set completely forth his conceptions to his fellows. Other animals express their passions to each other in various ways, as dogs indicate their anger by barking. But man is more disposed to communication than any other gregarious animal, such as the crane, the ant, or the bee. Regarding this matter Solomon says (Eccl. iv. 9), “Two are better than one, because they have the reward of mutual society.” . . .
If an unjust government should be established by one man who in governing seeks his own benefit, and not that of the multitude committed to him, such a ruler is called a tyrant, a name derived from might, because he coerces with force, instead of ruling with justice. Thus among the ancients some powerful persons were called tyrants. When an unjust government is founded, not by one, but by a few, it is called an oligarchy, which is the rule of a few who, for the sake of riches, oppress the people; it differs from a tyranny only in number. If the evil government is conducted by the many, it is called a democracy, which is the rule of the common people who through force of numbers overwhelm the wealthy. The whole people here are as one tyrant. Just governments should be distinguished in the same manner. If just government is controlled by a multitude it is called by the general name of polity, as when a multitude of warriors rule within a state or province. If it is conducted by a few who are virtuous, it is called an aristocracy—which is the best dominion, or the government of the best, who are thus called optimates. If the just power belongs to one alone, he is properly called king. Accordingly, the Lord says (Ezek. 37.24), Daniel my servant shall be king over them; and they all shall have one shepherd. Thus it is clear that from the nature of a king he is one who is set above, and that he should be a shepherd seeking the common good of the multitude and not his own.
Since it is fitting for man to live in a multitude because he is not sufficient by himself with regard to the necessities of life, the society of the multitude ought to be as much more perfect than life in isolation as it is in itself more sufficient in the necessities of life. There is indeed a certain sufficiency for life in the family of one household, as much, that is, as is needed for natural acts of nutrition, reproduction of offspring, and other similar purposes. There is a sufficiency in one village, so far as the things belonging to one craft go. But in a city, which is a perfect community, there is everything that is required for all the necessities of life; and still more sufficient is a province, when there is need for mutual assistance in fighting against common enemies. Therefore, the one who rules a perfect community— that is, a city or a province, is called by the title of king. The one who rules a house is called not king but paterfamilias; but he has a certain likeness to a king; so kings are sometimes called fathers of their people.
It appears, then, from what has been said, that a king is one who rules the multitude of a city or province, and rules it for the public good. Accordingly, Solomon says (Eccl. v. 8), The king reigns over all the land subject to him.
That a Kingdom Ought to be Governed Primarily with a View to Creating Happiness (GR 15)
Since the end of the life which we live well at present is heavenly happiness, it pertains to the duty of the king to make the life of the multitude good, in accordance with what is suitable for that heavenly happiness. He must command those things which lead to heavenly happiness and forbid their opposites, as far as possible. The way to true happiness and the obstructions on the way are revealed in the divine law, the teaching of which is the duty of priests. . . . The king, having learned the divine law, ought to study especially how the multitude subject to him may live well. This study has three parts: first, how a king may institute a good life among the subject multitude; secondly, how he may preserve what has been instituted; thirdly, how he may advance what he has preserved to a better condition.
For the good life of an individual two things are needed. One thing, which is fundamental, is action according to virtue (for virtue is that by which one lives well). The other, which is secondary and instrumental, is a sufficiency of material goods, the use of which is necessary to virtuous action. The unity of an individual man is produced by nature. The unity of a multitude, which is called peace, must be obtained through the efforts of the ruler. Therefore, to establish good life for a multitude three things are required: first, that the multitude should be brought into the unity of peace. Secondly, that the multitude, having been united by the bond of peace, should be directed to good action. For as a man can do nothing well unless the unity of his parts be first established, so a multitude of men, lacking the unity of peace and fighting itself, is prevented from acting well. Thirdly, that through the care of the ruler there should be provided a sufficient supply of the necessities for good living. When, therefore, good life is established in a multitude by the services of the king, he should next work for the conservation of that life.
There are three things which prevent the public good from enduring. One of them comes from nature. For the good of the multitude ought to be established not for one time but for all time. But since men are mortal they cannot live forever. Nor while they live are they always equally vigorous, because human life is subject to variations and men are not fitted to perform the same duties throughout their lives. Another hindrance to the maintenance of the public good comes from within and depends upon the perversity of wills, which are either too weak to achieve those things which common welfare requires, or are hostile to the peace of the multitude and, despising justice, disturb the tranquility of others. The third impediment to the preservation of the state arises from without, when peace is upset by the encroachments of enemies which sometimes altogether destroy a kingdom or a city. A three-fold responsibility, therefore, rests upon the king. First, for the succession of men in the various offices, since by divine law in things corruptible they cannot always remain the same, he must see that others are born to take the places left vacant. Thus the integrity of the whole and the good of the subject multitude are preserved by the care of the king. Secondly, by his laws and commands he must keep his subjects from wickedness and lead them into works of virtue, taking his example from God, who has given laws to men and returns rewards to those who keep the laws, and punishments to those who transgress. Thirdly, it rests with the king to keep the multitude subject to him safe from enemies. For it would avail them nothing to escape the inner perils if they are not also defended from those without.
Finally, for the good government of a multitude there remains a third thing which pertains to the duty of the king. It is that he take care for their advancement. This he does when in each of the matters mentioned above he corrects whatever is wrong, supplies whatever is lacking, and strives to perfect whatever can be improved. Accordingly, the Apostle warns the faithful always to covet earnestly the better gifts.
These then are the things which pertain to the duty of a king. Each should be considered carefully and in detail.
JUST WAR
Whether it is Always Sinful to Wage War (ST 2a2ae.40.1)
In order for a war to be just, three things are necessary. First, the authority of the sovereign by whose command the war is to be waged. For it is not the business of a private individual to declare war, because he can seek for redress of his rights from the tribunal of his superior. Moreover it is not the business of a private individual to summon together the people, which has to be done in wartime. And as the care of the public good is committed to those who are in authority, it is their business to watch over the public good of the city, kingdom or province subject to them. Just as it is lawful for them to have recourse to the sword in defending that public good against internal disturbances, when they punish evil-doers, according to the words of the Apostle: “He does not bear the sword for nothing. He is God's servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer” (Romans 13:4). So too, it is their business to have recourse to the sword of war in defending the public good against external enemies. Hence it is said to those who are in authority: “Rescue the poor: and deliver the needy out of the hand of the sinner” (Psalms, 81:4). For this reason Augustine says: “The natural order conducive to peace among mortals demands that the power to declare and counsel war should be in the hands of those who hold the supreme authority.”
Secondly, a just cause is required, namely that those who are attacked, should be attacked because they deserve it on account of some fault. For this reason Augustine says “A just war is customarily to be described as one that avenges wrongs, when a nation or state has to be punished, for refusing to make amends for the wrongs inflicted by its subjects, or to restore what it has seized unjustly.”
Thirdly, it is necessary that those making war should have a rightful intention, so that they intend the advancement of good, or the avoidance of evil. Hence Augustine says “True religion looks upon as peaceful those wars that are waged not for motives of aggrandizement, or cruelty, but with the object of securing peace, of punishing evil-doers, and of uplifting the good.” For it may happen that the war is declared by the legitimate authority, and for a just cause, and yet be rendered unlawful through a wicked intention. Hence Augustine says (Contra Faustum, 22.74): “The passion for inflicting harm, the cruel thirst for vengeance, non-peaceful and relentless spirit, the fever of revolt, the lust of power, and such like things, all these are rightly condemned in war.”
Source: Summa Theologica, tr. Laurence Shapcote. On the Governance of Rulers (De Regimine Principum), Bk. I, chs. 1, 15, tr. Francis Coker.
Questions for Review
1. What are Aquinas’s four reasons for why there is divine law?
2. In the section on “whether the natural law is the same in all men,” what are the three levels of principles of natural law regarding their rightness and our knowledge of them?
3. In the section on “whether every human law is derived from the natural law,” what are the two kinds of deduction from natural law?
4. In the section on “man mastering over man in the state of innocence,” what are the two reasons for why there is a master-subject relation?
5. In the section “what is meant by the name king,” what are the three forms of unjust governments, and the three forms of just governments?
6. In the section titled “That a kingdom ought to be governed primarily with a view to creating happiness,” what are the three things that hinder the continuance of the public good, and the three responsibilities of the king towards that end?
Questions for Analysis
1. Consider the six natural inclinations that Aquinas lists, and the six corresponding principles of natural law that they imply. Are there other natural inclinations that he should have listed, and are there other ways of devising natural laws from the six that he did list?
2. In the section titled “Whether every human law is derived from the natural law” Aquinas is addressing the problem raised by philosophers like Cicero that standards of justice vary greatly from one society to another. Does Aquinas adequately address this problem?
3. In the section on natural servitude, Aquinas is addressing an issue that was also discussed by Augustine. For Augustine, there was no servitude in the state of innocence and people conducted themselves freely as their own masters. Whose view of the subject seems more correct, and why?
4. Examine Aquinas’s discussion of unjust governments, and his critique of democracies. Are his worries about democracies justified?
5. In the section on just war, Aquinas argues that right motive for declaring wars include doing good and avoiding evil. Is this a practical or impractical guideline? Explain.
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#6
WORLD GOVERNMENT
Dante Alighieri
Italian poet Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) was one of the great literary figures of the Middle Ages, and is best remembered for his epic poem The Divine Comedy. He studied philosophy for several years in his youth and became familiar with Aristotle’s writings. He was politically active later in life and, caught between ruling factions, he was exiled from his home town of Florence. With his country in turmoil, he looked to German king Henry VII to unify the continent and return the Holy Roman Empire to its former glory. In this context, he wrote On Monarchy (1312) in which he argues for three points: (1) there should be a single monarch who rules the entire world, (2) the Roman empire justly had that claim, and (3) the authority of kings comes directly from God, and kings are not subservient to the church. The selections below address the first and third of these issues. Regarding a world monarch, Dante presents a dozen or so arguments for this position, many of which draw heavily from Aristotle’s metaphysical theories, the underlying theme of which is that the more unified a thing is, the better. For example, a world monarch is like the prime mover who orchestrates the motion of all celestial objects. Other arguments, though, draw on more natural intuitions, such as that a single ruler can best resolve conflicts between factions, or get things done more efficiently. His final argument, though, reflects his inner conviction about the special status of the Roman Empire: the greatest peace on earth took place during Augustus’s rule, and it was during this time that God decided to become human through Jesus. Regarding the third issue, Dante argues that earthly kings receive their authority directly through God, and not from the Pope and the Church. Human nature as two ends: earthly paradise and heavenly paradise, and God specifically assigned earthly kings to help us achieve this first end, and the church the second.
ARGUMENTS FOR A WORLD MONARCH
Three Questions concerning Temporal Monarchy
1. . . . An understanding of temporal monarchy is very profitable but also very obscure. Yet it has been left unexplored by everyone because it is no immediate source of worldly gain. It is thus my purpose to draw it out from its hiding-places, so that I may exert my labor for the benefit of the world, but also so that I may be the first to win the prize of so great an achievement for my own glory. The work indeed is difficult, and I am attempting what is beyond my strength. But I do not trust in my own powers, but, rather, in the light of that bountiful giver, “Who gives to all men generously, and does not reprimand.”
2. First, we must see what it is that is called “temporal monarchy”, in its idea, so to speak, and according to its purpose. Temporal monarchy, then, or as people call it “the Empire,” is the government of one prince above all men in time, or in those things and over those things which are measured by time. Three great questions are asked concerning it. First, there is the question, is it necessary for the welfare of the world? Secondly, did the Roman people rightfully take to itself the office of monarchy? And thirdly, does the authority of monarchy come from God directly, or only from some other minister or intermediary of God?
Needed for Society to Achieve its End
5. . . . The first question, then, is whether temporal monarchy is necessary for the welfare of the world. That it is necessary, I think, can be shown by the strongest and most evident arguments, for nothing either from reason or of authority opposes me. Let us first take the authority of Aristotle in his Politics. There, on his respected authority, it is said that where a number of things are arranged to attain an end, it is necessary for one of them to regulate or govern the others, and the others to submit. It is not only the authority of his famous name which makes this worthy of belief, but also reason, by citing examples.
If we take the case of a single man, we will see the same rule evident in him. All his powers are ordered to gain happiness, but his understanding is what regulates and governs all the others; and otherwise he would never attain happiness. Again, take a single household: its end is to fit the members to live well; but there must be one to regulate and rule it, who is called the father of the family, or, it may be, one who holds his office. As Aristotle says: “Every house is ruled by the oldest.” As Homer says, it is his duty to make rules and laws for the rest. Hence the proverbial curse: “May you have an equal at home.” Take a single village: its end is the mutual assistance of people and goods, but one in it must be the ruler of the rest, either set over them by another, or with their consent, the head man among them. If it is not so, not only do its inhabitants fail of this mutual assistance, but the whole neighborhood is sometimes completely ruined by the ambition of many, who each of them wish to rule. If, again, we take a single city: its end is to secure a good and sufficient life for the citizens. But one man must be ruler in good forms of the state (as well is in imperfect forms). If it is otherwise, not only is the end of civil life lost, but the city too ceases to be what it was. Lastly, if we take any one kingdom, of which the end is the same as that of a city, only with greater security for its tranquility, there must be one king to rule and govern. If this is not so, not only do his subjects miss their end, but the kingdom itself falls to destruction, according to that word of the infallible truth: “Every kingdom that is divided against itself shall fall to desolation.” If this holds true in these cases, and in each individual thing which is ordered to one certain end, then what we have established is true.
Now it is plain that the whole human race is ordered to gain some end, as has been before shown. There must, therefore, be one to guide and govern, and the proper title for this office is monarch or Emperor. So it is plain that monarchy or the Empire is necessary for the welfare of the world. . . .
Reflects the Image of God
8. All is well and at its best which exists according to the will of the first agent, who is God. This is self-evident, except to those who deny that divine goodness achieves absolute perfection.
It is the intention of God that all created things should represent the likeness of God, so far as their proper nature will admit. Therefore it was said: “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.” Although it could not be said that the lower part of creation was made in the image of God, yet all things may be said to be after his likeness, for what is the whole universe but the “footprint of the divine goodness.” Therefore, the human race is well, and in fact at its best state when, so far as can be, it is made like God. But the human race is most made like God when it is most as one; for the true principle of oneness is in him alone. Accordingly it is written: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God is one God.” But the race of man is most one when it is united wholly in one body, and it is evident that this cannot be, except when it is subject to one prince. Therefore in this domination mankind is most made like God, and, consequently, such a domination is in accord with the divine intention, and it is indeed well and best for man when this is so, as we showed at the beginning of this chapter.
Parallels the Prime Mover
9. Again, things are well and at their best with every son when he follows the footsteps of a perfect father, as far as he can by his proper nature. Mankind is the son of heaven, which is most perfect in all of its works; for it is “man and the sun which produce man,” according to Aristotle’s second book on Physics. The human race, therefore, is at its best when it imitates the movements of heaven, as far as human nature allows. Since the whole heaven is regulated with one motion, to wit, that of the prime mover, and by one mover, who is God, in all its parts, movements, and movers (and human reason readily grasps this from science). Therefore, if our argument is correct, the human race is at its best state when (both in its movements, and in regard to those who move it) it is regulated by a single Prince, as by the single movement of heaven, and by one law, as by the single motion. Therefore it is necessary for the welfare of the world for there to be a monarchy, or single Princedom, which men call the Empire. Boethius suggested this when he said: “Oh happy race of men, if your hearts are ruled by the love which rules the heaven.”
Needed to resolve Controversies
10. Wherever there is controversy, there ought to be judgment. Otherwise there would be imperfection without its proper remedy, which is impossible since God and Nature, in necessary things, do not fail in their provisions. But it is clear that there may be controversy between any two princes, where the one is not subject to the other, either from the fault of themselves, or even of their subjects. Therefore between them there should be means of judgment. Since, when one is not subject to the other, he cannot be judged by the other (for there is no rule of equals over equals), there must be a third prince of wider jurisdiction, within the circle of whose laws both may come. Either he will or he will not be a monarch. If he is, we have what we sought. If not, then this one again will have an equal, who is not subject to his jurisdiction, and then again we have need of a third. And so we must either go on to infinity, which is impossible, or we must come to that judge who is first and highest; by whose judgment all controversies shall be either directly or indirectly decided; and he will be monarch or Emperor. Monarchy is therefore necessary to the world, and Aristotle saw this when [quoting Homer]: “The world is not intended to be disposed in evil order; ‘in a multitude of rulers there is evil, therefore let there be one prince.’”
Allows the Most Freedom
12. Again, the human race is ordered best when it is most free. . . . It is therefore evident that this liberty, or this principle of all our liberty, is the greatest gift bestowed by God on mankind. By it alone we gain happiness as men; by it alone we gain happiness elsewhere as gods. But if this is so, who will say that human kind is not in its best state, when it can most use this principle. But he who lives under a monarchy is most free. Therefore let it be understood that he is free who exists not for another’s sake but for his own, as Aristotle said in his Metaphysics. For everything which exists for the sake of some other thing, is necessitated by that other thing, as a road has to run to its intended end. Only if a monarch rules will people exist for themselves, and not at the pleasure of others. For only then are the perverted forms of government set right—while democracies, oligarchies, and tyrannies, will drive mankind into slavery (as is obvious to any who is familiar with them all). Public power is in the hands of kings and aristocracies, which they call the rule of the best, and champions of popular liberty. Because the monarch loves his subjects much, as we have seen, he wishes all men to be good, which cannot be the case in perverted forms of government. Thus, Aristotle says in his Politics: “In the bad state the good man is a bad citizen, but in a good state the two coincide.” Good states in this way aim at liberty, that in them men may live for themselves. The citizens exist not for the good of magistrates, nor the nation for the good of its king. But the magistrate exists for the good of the citizens, and the king for the good of his nation. For as the laws are made to suit the state, and not the state to suit the laws, so those who live under the laws are not ordered for the legislator, but he for them. Aristotle also holds this in what he has left us on the present subject. Hence, too, it is clear that although the king or the magistrate rule over the other citizens regarding the means of government, yet regarding the end of government they are the servants of the citizens, and especially the monarch, who, without doubt, must be held the servant of all. Thus it is clear that the monarch is bound by the end appointed to himself in making his laws. Therefore mankind is best off under a monarchy, and it follows that monarchy is necessary for the welfare of the world.
Is more Just and less Tempted by Desires
13. Further, he who can be best prepared to rule can best prepare others. . . . Hence it may be gathered that he who wishes to prepare others needs to be prepared for his work in the best way. But the monarch is the only one who can be prepared in the best possible way to govern. This is proved as follows: Each thing is the more easily and perfectly qualified for any habit, or actual work, the less there is in it of what is contrary to such a disposition. Therefore, they who have never even heard of philosophy, arrive at a habit of truth in philosophy more easily and completely than those who have listened to it at odd times, and are filled with false opinions. For this reason Galen well says: “Such as these require double time to acquire knowledge.” A monarch then has nothing to tempt appetite, or, at least, less than any other man, as we have shown before; whereas other princes have much; and appetite is the only corrupter of righteousness, and the only impediment to justice. A monarch therefore is wholly, or at least more than any other prince, disposed to govern well: for in him there may be judgment and justice more strongly than in any other. But these two things are the pre-eminent attributes of a maker of law, and of an executor of law, as that most holy king David testified when he asked of God the things which were befitting the king, and the king’s son, saying: “Give the king your judgment, O God, and your righteousness to the king’s son.”
We were right then when we assumed that only the monarch can be best prepared to rule. Therefore only the monarch can in the best way prepare other men. Therefore it follows that monarchy is necessary for the best ordering of the world.
Does Things more Efficiently
14. . . . All that is superfluous is displeasing to God and Nature: and all that is displeasing to God and Nature is bad, as is evident. It therefore follows not only that it is better that a thing should be done by one than by many agents, if it is possible to produce the effect by one. Further, to produce the effect by one is good, and to produce it by many is simply bad. . . .
But it must be carefully observed that when we say that mankind may be ruled by one supreme prince, we do not mean that the most trivial judgments for each particular town are to proceed immediately from him. For municipal laws sometimes fail, and need guidance, as Aristotle shows in the fifth book of his Ethics, when he praises fairness. For nations and kingdoms and states have, each of them, certain peculiarities which must be regulated by different laws. For law is the rule which directs life. Thus the Scythians need one rule, for they live beyond the seventh climate, and suffer from almost unbearable cold, from the great difference between their days and nights. But the Garamantes need a different law, for their country is equinoctial, and they cannot wear many clothes, from the excessive heat of the air, because the day is as long as the darkness of the night. But our meaning is that it is in those matters which are common to all men, that men should be ruled by one monarch, and be governed by a rule common to them all, with a view to their peace. And the individual princes must receive this rule of life or law from him. . . . It is not only possible for one man to act as we have described; it is necessary that it should proceed from one man only to avoid confusion in our first principles. Moses himself wrote in his law that he had acted this way. He took the elders of the tribes of the children of Israel, and left to them the lesser judgments, reserving to himself those that were more important, and wider in their scope. The elders then carried these wider ones to their tribes, according as they were applicable to each separate tribe.
Therefore it is better for the human race to be ruled by one than by many, and thus there should be a monarch, who is a single prince. And if it is better, it is more acceptable to God, since God always wills what is best. Of these two ways of government, since the one is not only the better, but the best of all, it follows not only that this one is more acceptable to God as between one and many, but that it is the most acceptable. Therefore it is best for the human race to be governed by one man; and monarchy is necessary for the welfare of the world.
Harmonizes the Wills of Everyone
15. . . . It is plain that whatever is good, is good for this reason: that it consists in unity. Because harmony is a good thing in so far as it is harmony, it is evident that it consists in a certain unity, as its proper root, the nature of which will appear if we discover the real nature of harmony. Harmony is the uniform motion of many wills. Hence it appears that a unity of wills, by which is meant their uniform motion, is the root of harmony—indeed, it is harmony itself. We say that many clumps of earth are harmonious because that they all gravitate together towards the center, and that many flames are harmonious because they all ascend together towards the circumference. If they did this of their own free will, we say that many men are in harmony because they are all moved together. There is one quality formally in the clumps of earth, which is gravity, and one in the flame of fire, which is lightness. Similarly, regarding willing, there is one thing that is formally in everyone’s wills. For the force of willing is a certain power; but the quality of good which it captures is its form. This form, like others, being one, is multiplied in itself, according to the multiplication of the matters which receive it, as the soul, and numbers, and other forms which belong to what is compound.
To explain our assumption as we proposed, let us argue in this way. All harmony depends on unity which is in wills. The human race, when it is at its best, is a kind of harmony—for as one man at his best is a kind of harmony (and as the like is true of the family, the city, and the kingdom), so is it of the whole human race. Therefore the human race at its best depends on the unity which is in will. But this cannot be unless there is one will to be the single mistress and regulating influence of all the rest. For the wills of men, on account of the temptations of youth, require one to direct them, as Aristotle shows in the tenth book of his Ethics. And this cannot be unless there is one prince over all, whose will shall be the mistress and regulating influence of all the others. But if all these conclusions are true, as they are, it is necessary for the highest welfare of the human race that there should be a monarch in the world. Thus, monarchy is necessary for the good of the world.
Confirmed by Augustus’s Peace of Rome
16. To all these reasons alleged above, a memorable experience adds its confirmation. I mean that period in human history which the Son of God waited for, when he was about to become human for the salvation of everyone, at the moment when he willed (or ordered at his will). If we reflect on the arrangement of the human race and the order of its times, from the fall of our first parents (which was the turning point at which all our going astray began), we shall find that the world was never at peace everywhere except under the divine Augustus, who was sole ruler, and under whom a perfect monarchy existed. It is the testimony of all writers of history that the human race was happy in the tranquility of universal peace. This is the testimony of famous poets. This, too, the author of the story of the “meekness and gentleness of Christ” has thought proper to say. And last of all, Paul has called that most blessed circumstance “the fullness of the times.” For then, indeed, time was full, and all the things of time, since no function belonging to our happiness lacked its minister. But if we don’t see it with our own eyes, we may read in books how the world has progressed since that “seamless robe” has been torn apart by the claws of ambition. Oh, race of mankind! What storms must toss you, what losses must you endure, what shipwrecks must batter you, as long as you, a beast of many heads, strive after opposing things. You are sick in your faculties of understanding, and you are sick in your affections. Unanswerable reasons fail to heal your higher understanding. The very sight of experience does not convince your lower understanding. Not even the sweetness of divine persuasion charms your affections, when it breathes into you through the music of the Holy Ghost: “Observe how good and how pleasant a thing it is to dwell together in unity.”
MONARCH’S AUTHORITY INDEPENDENT OF CHURCH AUTHORITY
Against the Sun-Moon Argument
1. At the beginning of this work I proposed to examine three questions, according as the subject-matter would permit me. Concerning the two first questions, I think our inquiry has been sufficiently accomplished in the preceding books. It remains to treat of the third question. Perhaps it may arouse a certain amount of indignation against me, for the truth of it cannot appear without embarrassing certain men. . . . The present question, then, concerning which we have to inquire, is between two great luminaries, the Roman Pontiff and the Roman Prince: and the question is, does the authority of the Roman Monarch (who, as we have proved in the second book, is the monarch of the world) depend immediately on God, or on some minister or vicar of God; by whom I understand the successor of Peter, who truly has the keys of the kingdom of heaven? . . .
4. Those men to whom all our subsequent reasoning is addressed, when they assert that the authority of the Empire depends on the authority of the Church, as the inferior workman depends on the architect, are moved to take this view by many arguments, some of which they draw from Holy Scripture, and some also from the acts of the Supreme Pontiff and of the Emperor himself. Moreover, they strive to have some proof from reason.
For in the first place they say that God, according to the book of Genesis, made two great lights, the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night. This they understand to be an allegory, insofar as the lights are the two powers, the spiritual and the temporal. And then they maintain that as the moon, which is the lesser light, only has light so far as she receives it from the sun, so the temporal power only has authority as it receives authority from the spiritual power.
To refute these and similar arguments, we must remember the words of [Aristotle] the Philosopher in his book on Sophistry, “the overthrow of an argument is the pointing out of the mistake.” . . . Having noted these things, to make it more clear how we destroy this and the further fallacies of our adversaries, we must remark that there are two ways in which error may arise concerning the mystical sense, either by seeking it where it is not, or by accepting it in a sense other than its real sense.
On account of the first of these ways, Augustine says, in his work Of the City of God that we must not think that all things, of which we are told, have a special meaning. For it is on account of that which means something, that that also which means nothing is woven into a story. It is only with the ploughshare that we turn up the earth; but the other parts of the plough are also necessary.
On account of the second way in which error touching the interpretation of mysteries may arise, Augustine, in his book "On Christian Doctrine," speaking of those who wish to find in Scripture something other than he who wrote the Scripture meant, says, that such "are misled in the same way as a man who leaves the straight path, and then arrives at the end of the path by a long circuit." . . .
Having thus first noted these things, I will proceed, as I said above, to destroy the argument of those who say that the two great lights are representative of the two great powers on earth. For on this type rests the whole strength of their argument. It can be shown in two ways that this interpretation cannot be upheld. First, seeing that these two kinds of power are, in a sense, accidents of men, God would thus appear to have used a perverted order, by producing the accidents, before the essence to which they belong existed; and it is ridiculous to say this of God. For the two great lights were created on the fourth day, while man was not created till the sixth day, as is evident in the text of Scripture.
Secondly, seeing that these two kinds of rule are to guide men to certain ends, as we shall see, it follows that if man had remained in the state of innocence in which God created him, he would not have needed such means of guidance. These kinds of rule, then, are remedies against the weakness of sin. Since, then, man was not a sinner on the fourth day, for he did not then even exist, it would have been useless to make remedies for his sin, and this would be contrary to the goodness of God.
Therefore I say that the temporal power does not receive its being from the spiritual power, nor its power which is its authority, nor its working considered in itself. . . .
No Possible Source of Church Authority over the King
14. Again, if the Church had power to give authority on the Roman Prince, she would have it either from God, or from herself, or from some Emperor, or from the universal consent of mankind, or at least of the majority of mankind. There is no other crevice by which this power could flow down to the Church. But she does not have it from any of these sources, therefore she does not have it at all.
It is clear that she has it from none of these sources. For if she had received it from God, she would have received it either by the divine or by the natural law: because what is received from nature is received from God (though the converse of this is not true). But this power is not received by the natural law; for nature lays down no law, except for the effects of nature, for God cannot fail in power, where he brings anything into being without the aid of secondary agents. Since therefore the Church is not an effect of nature, but of God who said: "Upon this rock I will build my Church," and elsewhere: "I have finished the work which you gave me to do," it is clear that nature did not give the Church this law.
Nor was this power bestowed by the divine law. For the whole of the divine law is contained in the bosom of the Old or of the New Testament, and I cannot find therein that any thought or care for worldly matters was commanded, either to the early or to the latter priesthood. . . .
So it is quite plain that the Church did not receive this power from herself; for nothing can give what it has not. . . . But it is sufficiently clear from what we have previously made evident that the Church has received not this power from any Emperor.
And further, who can doubt that she did not have it from the consent of all, or even of the greater part of mankind? This is particularly so since, not only all the inhabitants of Asia and Africa, but even the greater number of Europeans, hold the thought in abhorrence. It is mere weariness to adduce proofs in matters which are so plain. . . .
Separate Domains of Temporal and Spiritual Powers
16. It has been proved in the preceding chapter that the authority of the Empire does not have its cause in the authority of the Supreme Pontiff. For we have shown that this argument led to absurd results. Yet it has not been entirely shown that the authority of the Empire depends directly upon God, except as a result from our argument. For it is a consequence that, if the authority comes not from the vicar of God, it must come from God himself. Therefore, for the complete determination of the question proposed, we have to prove directly that the emperor or monarch of the world stands in an immediate relation to the King of the universe, who is God.
For the better comprehending of this, it must be recognized that man alone, of all created things, holds a position midway between things mortal and things immortal; and therefore philosophers rightly compare him to a dividing line between two hemispheres. For man consists of two essential parts, namely, the soul and the body. If he is considered in relation to his body only, he is mortal; but if he is considered in relation to his soul only, he is immortal. . . . Two ends, therefore, have been laid down by the ineffable providence of God for man to aim at. One is the happiness of this life, which consists in the exercise of his natural powers, and which is prefigured in the earthly Paradise. The other is the happiness of the life eternal, which consists in the fruition of the sight of God's countenance, and to which man by his own natural powers cannot rise, if he is not aided by the divine light. This happiness is understood by the heavenly Paradise.
But to these different kinds of happiness, like different conclusions, we must come by different paths. For the first we may arrive at by the lessons of philosophy, if only we will follow them, by acting in accordance with the moral and intellectual virtues. But at the second we can only arrive by spiritual lessons, transcending human reason, so that we follow them in accordance with the theological virtues, faith, hope, and charity. The truth of the first of these conclusions and of these means is made clear by human reason, which by the philosophers has been all laid open to us. The other conclusions and means are made clear by the Holy Spirit, who by the mouth of the Prophets and holy writers, and by Jesus Christ, the co-eternal Son of God, and his disciples, has revealed to us supernatural truth of which we have great need. Nevertheless human passion would cast them all behind its back, if it were not that men, going astray like the beasts that perish, were restrained in their course by bit and bridle, like horses and mules.
Therefore man had need of two guides for his life, as he had a twofold end in life. One is the Supreme Pontiff, to lead mankind to eternal life according to the things revealed to us. The other is the Emperor, to guide mankind to happiness in this world, in accordance with the teaching of philosophy. None, or only a few could arrive at this harbor of happiness (and even they with great difficulty) unless the waves and flatteries of human desires were set at rest, and the human race were free to live in peace and quiet. This therefore is the mark at which he who is to care for the world, and whom we call the Roman Prince, must most chiefly aim at. I mean, that in this little plot of earth belonging to mortal men, life may pass in freedom and with peace. The order of this world follows the order of the heavens, as they run their course, to the end that the learning which brings liberty and peace may be duly applied by this guardian of the world in proper time and place. Thus, it is necessary that this power should be dispensed by God who is ever present to behold the whole order of the heavens. It is God alone who has preordained this, that by it in His providence he might bind all things together, each in their own order.
Source: Dante Alighieri, On Monarchy (1312), 1, 3. Tr. F.J. Church.
Questions for Review
1. In the section on a single monarch being needed for society to achieve its end, what are the examples that Dante gives where a single authority figure is needed for something to achieve its end?
2. Summarize five of Dante’s arguments in support of a single ruler of the world
3. What are the four possible sourced of church authority over the king?
4. Give one of Dante’s two criticisms of the sun-moon argument.
5. In the section on separate domains of temporal and spiritual powers, what are the two parts, two ends, two paths, and two guides of human nature?
Questions for Analysis
1. Augustine argued that when a large empire forces smaller countries to join them, this leads to social and civil unrest, as was the case with the Roman Empire. Dante sees it differently. Dante might he respond to Augustine?
2. One of the more common arguments for a world government is efficiency: things can be done better with a single over-arching government than with many disunified governments. Criticize this argument.
3. What are some of the disadvantages to world government which Dante might not have considered?
4. Dante is advocating something like church-state separation by holding that the states do not get their authority from the church. Nevertheless, states still receive their authority from God. Discuss the implications of Dante’s view of the state’s authority, and whether it might lead to a theocracy.
5. Dante envisioned a world government that was modeled after the Roman Empire under Caesar Augustus. In modern times, what would be a more realistic model for a world government, and how would that differ from Dante’s conception?
#7
UTOPIA
Thomas More
Thomas More (1478–1535) was an English lawyer, statesman, and at the Height of his career was Lord Chancellor under Henry VIII of England, one of the highest governmental positions which involved advising the King. A devoted Catholic who instigated the persecution of protestant reformers, More alienated himself from Henry by refusing to sign a document that would make the King the supreme head of the Church of England. For this he was found guilty of high treason and decapitated. Around 15 years before taking his position as Lord Chancellor, More composed Utopia (1516), the full title of which is On the Best State of a Commonwealth and on the New Island of Utopia. The term “utopia,” invented by More, means “no place” in Greek. More wrote it in Latin, and it first appeared in English translation 16 years after his execution. It is in two books, and he second, selections from which are below, conveys a fictitious account of an unusually happy and well organized society on the island of Utopia. The story is conveyed by a traveler named Raphael, who visited it somewhere in the New World. The account begins with a description of the island’s geography, which, surrounded by a treacherous sea, protects it from outside invasion. Inhabitants live in a communal setting, have no currency, and share all goods and services with others as needed. Everyone rotates in and out of agricultural work every two years. They use their time efficiently, and have only six hour work days, with the remainder of their time spent on learning and leisure activities. The tough chores are done by slaves who are either criminals or volunteers from poorer surrounding countries. They have free public hospitals, practice euthanasia, allow consensual divorce, minimize the death penalty, have few written laws, and show religious toleration (except for atheists). The work has been variously interpreted as a satire on the evils of his times, a dream world for scholars, or a forecast of communism.
GEOGRAPHY AND GOVERNMENT
Layout of the Island
The island of Utopia is 200 miles across in the middle and over a great part of it, but grows narrower at both ends. The figure of it is not unlike a crescent. Eleven miles breadth of sea washes its horns and forms a considerable bay, encompassed by a shore about 500 miles in length, and well sheltered from storms. There is no great current in the bay. The whole coast is as it were a continued harbor, affording the whole island every advantage of mutual contact. Yet the entrance into the bay, owing to rocks and shoals, is very dangerous.
In the middle is a rock which appears above water, on whose top is a tower inhabited by a garrison. The other rocks lie under water, and are very dangerous. The channel is known only by the natives, and a stranger entering the bay without one of their captains would be in immediate danger of shipwreck. They themselves could not pass it in safety, without certain marks on the coast to direct their way. And if these were a little altered, any fleet coming against them, however large, would certainly be lost. On the other side of the island are likewise many harbors. The coast is so fortified by nature as well as contrivance, that a small force could hold back the descent of a large army.
Reports say (and marks of its credibility remain) that this island was originally a part of the continent. Utopus, the conqueror of it, and whose name it now bears (having previously been called Abraxa), brought the government and civility of the primitive inhabitants to their present highly improved state. Having easily subdued them, he formed the design of separating them from the continent and encompassing them with the sea. To this end, he ordered a deep channel to be dug 15 miles long. So the natives might not think he treated them like slaves, he not only required them, but also his own soldiers to labor at the work. From the number of hands employed, it was finished quickly, exceeding every man’s expectation. His neighbors, who at first laughed at the folly of the undertaking, when they saw it accomplished, were struck with admiration and terror.
There are 54 cities on the island, all of them large and well built. Their laws, manners, and customs, are the same, and they resemble each other as nearly as the ground they stand on will allow. The nearest to each other are at least 24 miles apart, and the most remote, not above a day’s journey on foot. Every city sends three of her wisest senators once a year to Amaurot (the capital of the island, and situated in the center), to consult on their common interests. The jurisdiction of every city extends at least 20 miles, and farther where they lie wider apart. No one desires to enlarge her boundary, for the people consider themselves only as good managers of their lands, not as owners.
They have built farm houses over the whole country, which are well designed and furnished with every necessity. Inhabitants for them are sent in rotation from the cities. No family in the country has fewer than forty men and women in it, besides two slaves. A master and mistress preside over every family, and over thirty families a magistrate. Every year twenty of the family return to town after having been two years in the country. In their place another twenty are sent to learn the country business of those who have been there only one year, and must, in their turn, teach the next comers. Thus, those who live on the farms are never uninformed of agriculture, and commit no fatal errors, such as causing a scarcity of corn.
But, notwithstanding these yearly changes, to prevent any from being compelled against their desires to follow that hard course of life too long, many of them take such pleasure in it, that they ask permission to continue therein many years. These husbandmen till the ground, breed cattle, hew wood, and send it to the towns by land or water, as is most convenient. They breed countless chickens in a very interesting manner. They are not hatched by hens, but a vast number of eggs are hatched together by means of a constant artificial warmth; and no sooner do the young break through the shell, than they consider their feeder as their dam and follow man as other chickens do the hen. . . .
Magistrates
Thirty families choose yearly a magistrate, who was in ancient times called the syphogrant, but now the philarch. Over every ten syphogrants, with these their families each, is another magistrate, formerly called tranibor, now protophi larch. The syphogrants, 200 in number, choose the prince from a list of four, named by the people of the four divisions of the city, taking an oath beforehand that they will choose him whom they think fittest for the office. They vote privately, so that it is not known for whom each gives his vote. The prince is for life, so that he will not enslave his people if he suspects a scheme against him.
The tranibors are newly chosen every year, yet generally continued, while all their other magistrates are annual. They meet every third day (oftener if necessary), and consult with the prince concerning the general interests of the state, or private disagreements among the people, though the latter seldom happen. Two syphogrants are always called into the council-chamber, and are changed daily. It is a fundamental rule of the constitution that nothing relative to the public can be concluded, until the matter has been debated three days in the council. It is death for any to meet and hold consultation concerning the state, except at their council, or in the general assembly of the people.
This has been so provided, that the prince and the tranibors may not conspire to change the government and enslave the people. Therefore, when anything of great importance arises, the syphogrants are made acquainted with it, who, when they have communicated it to the families belonging to their divisions, and have considered it themselves, make a report to the senate. On important occasions, the matter is referred to the council of the whole island.
One rule observed in their council is to never debate a subject on the day on which it is proposed. It is always assigned to the next meeting. For, they fear that rashness and the heat of argument might lead them to support their first opinions, rather than consult the public good, and thereby put their country at risk rather than endanger their own reputations. To prevent this, they make their motions with care, rather than suddenly.
Work and Leisure
Agriculture is so universally understood among them that neither man nor woman is ignorant of it. They are instructed in it from their childhood, partly at school and partly by practice. They are frequently led into the fields near the town, where they not only see others at work, but become exercised in it themselves. Besides agriculture, so common to them, every man has some specific trade, as the manufacture of wool or flax, masonry, smith’s or carpenter’s work. No other trade is in higher regard among them. Throughout the island they wear one sort of clothes, without any other distinction than what is necessary for different sexes, and the married and unmarried. The fashion never changes, is simple and pleasing, and is suited to the climate, for summer as well as winter.
Every family makes clothes for itself, and women as well as men all learn one of the above-mentioned trades. The women generally engage in the wool and flax trade, leaving the more vigorous trades to the men. One trade is generally followed by father and son, their preferences often agreeing. But if any man’s talent points another way, he is adopted into a family professing the trade he prefers, and effort is made by his father and by the magistrate that his master be a proper person. If, when one has learned a certain trade, he desires to acquire another, that is also allowed and is managed as before. When he has learned both, he follows that which he prefers, unless the public has more need for one than the other.
The chief and almost only business of the syphogrants is to make sure that no man lives idly, but that everyone follows his trade diligently. Yet they do not exhaust themselves with continuous labor from morning to night, as if they were beasts of burden. This would indeed be grueling slavery, as it is everywhere the common course of life among all workers except the Utopians. But, dividing the day and night into twenty-four hours, they appoint six for work, three before and three after the midday meal. They then have supper, and at eight o’clock (counting from noon), they go to bed and sleep eight hours. The rest of his time is left to every man’s discretion. Yet they are not to waste the time in luxury and idleness, but must employ it in some proper exercise, according to their various preferences, which is generally reading.
They have public lectures every morning before daybreak. None are obliged to attend, except those who are appointed to literary professions. Yet many women as well as men go to hear lectures of one sort or another, according to their interests. If others, not formed for contemplation, prefer employing themselves at that time in their trades, as many of them do, they are not hindered, but are praised as subjects desirous of serving their country.
After supper, they spend an hour in some diversion, in summer in the garden, and in winter in their halls, entertaining each other with music or discourse. They have no idea of dice, or of any foolish and mischievous game. They have, however, two games not unlike our chess. The one is a battle of numbers, in which number consumes number. The other resembles a battle between the virtues and vices, in which the discord among the vices themselves and their union against virtue is pleasantly represented; together with the particular opposition between certain virtues and vices, and the methods in which vice openly assaults, or secretly undermines virtue, and virtue resists.
Efficiency of the Utopians
Since only six hours are devoted to labor, the time appointed to it must be carefully examined, otherwise, as you can imagine, a scarcity of the necessities of life might result. But this time is quite far from being insufficient for supplying them with necessities and conveniences. More time is unnecessary, as may be seen by considering how large a proportion of all other nations is totally idle. In the first place, women generally do little, and they are half of mankind; and if a few women are diligent, their husbands are idle. Then consider the great number of idle priests, and what are called religious persons. Add to these the rich, those chiefly who have landed property, called noblemen and gentlemen, with their families of idle people, kept for show rather than use. Then add those strong and vigorous beggars who go about pretending disease as an excuse for begging. On the whole, you will find that the number of those by whose labor mankind is supplied is much smaller than you imagine.
Next, consider how few of those who work are employed in labors of real use. For we, who measure all things by money, give rise to many trades which are useless and superfluous, and which serve only to support festivity and luxury. If the laboring part of mankind were employed only on the necessities of life, these would be so plentiful that their price would fall, and the tradesman could not be maintained. But suppose that everyone who labors in useless avocations were more profitably employed, and all they who waste away their lives in idleness and sloth (each of whom consumes as much as two of the laborious) were compelled to labor. You may immediately see that little time would accomplish everything that is necessary, profitable, or agreeable to mankind, especially while pleasure is kept within proper bounds. . . .
Thus, from the number among them who are neither idle nor to be uselessly employed, you may estimate how much may be done in their few hours of labor. But besides this, we need to remember that useful skills are managed with less labor among them than elsewhere. In regular societies, the building and repair of houses employs many people. The reason is that a financially careless heir often allows the house his father built to fall into decay, and his successor is at great cost to repair what might have been kept up at a small expense. It often happens too, that the house which one person built at a great expense, is neglected by another who thinks he has better taste in architecture, and, letting it go to ruin, builds another at a greater expense. But among the Utopians everything is so regulated that they seldom require new building ground. They not only repair their houses with great speed, but show much skill in preventing their decay, and their buildings are preserved very long with little labor. Thus, too, their builders are often without employment, except in hewing timber and squaring stone, in case of needing to construct a building in a sudden emergency. Abundance of all things exists among them. It frequently happens, indeed, that for lack of other work, many of them are sent out to repair the highways. But when no public call requires their attendance, the hours of labor are shortened. The magistrates never impose unnecessary labor on the people. For, the chief end of the constitution is to regulate labor by the public needs, and to allow all as much time as possible for mental improvement, in which they judge the happiness of life to consist.
As for their clothes, observe how little labor is spent on them. While at work, they wear loose dresses of leather and skins, which will last seven years. When they appear in public, they put on an upper garment which hides the other. These garments are all one color, the natural one of the wool. They need less woolen cloth than is used anywhere else, and what they use is much less costly. Of linen cloth they use more, but it is made with less labor; and they value cloth only from the whiteness of the linen or cleanness of the wool, without much regard to the fineness of the thread. While in other places, four or five upper garments of woolen cloth, of different colors, and as many silken vests, are hardly sufficient. While the more refined sort of person thinks that ten garments are too few, here every man is content with one, which often lasts him two years. Nor is there any temptation to desire more, for no man would be the warmer, nor improve their appearance with them.
DOMESTIC ISSUES
Family Life
But it is now time to explain to you the mutual association of these people, their commerce and regulations.
As their cities are composed of families, so their families are made up of those who are nearly related to each other. Their women, as they grow up, are married into other families. But the males, children and grandchildren, still live in the same house, in great obedience to the common parent; unless age has weakened his mind, and then the next in age supplies his place. But due care is taken that no city becomes too populous, or be depopulated. No city may contain above 6000 families besides those of the surrounding country. And no family may have less than ten, or more than sixteen, persons in it; without any limitation for the children under age. This rule is easily observed by removing some of the children of a more fruitful couple to a less abundant family. . . .
The oldest man of every family, as already said, presides in it. Wives obey their husbands, and children their parents, junior always serving senior. Every city is divided into four equal parts, and in the middle of each is a marketplace. What is manufactured by the various families and brought there, is carried to houses appointed for that purpose. In these, all things of one kind are laid together, and every father goes there and takes whatever he or his family needs, without paying for it, or leaving any exchange. There is no reason for denying anyone, since they have such abundance of all things. There is also no danger of anyone asking for more than he needs; for, being sure they shall always be supplied, they have no incentive of the kind.
It is the fear of want which makes any animal greedy or ravenous. Besides this fear, there is a pride in man which makes him regard it a glory to excel his fellow-creature in splendor and excess. The laws of Utopia leave no room for these feelings.
Near these markets are others for every kind of provision. Here are herbs, fruits, bread, fish, fowl, and cattle. Outside of their towns there are designated places near running streams for killing their animals, which is done by their slaves. They do not allow their citizens to kill their cattle, since they think that this would greatly impair human feelings of pity and kindness, which are among the best of the affections that we are born with. Nor do they allow anything foul or unclean to be brought into their towns, to prevent the air from being infected with ill smells which might harm their health.
In every street are large gathering halls, lying at equal distances from each other, and distinguished by particular names. The syphogrants live in them, with their thirty respective family dwellings surrounding them, fifteen on one side of it, and as many on the other. Here they meet and hold their meals. The steward of each goes to the market at a designated hour, and takes home provisions according to the number belonging to his hall.
They take the greatest care of their sick, who are lodged and provided for in public hospitals. They have four of these to every town, built without the walls, and so spacious, that they are like little towns. By this means, had they ever so many sick, they could lodge them conveniently, and so far apart, that no apprehension of infection could arise from those laboring under contagious disorders. The hospitals are provided with everything necessary for the ease and restoration of the sick. The patients are looked after with such tenderness and care, and are so constantly attended by their skilful physicians, that as none are sent there against their preferences. Thus, there is scarcely one person in a whole town who, if taken ill, would prefer to stay home rather than go there.
When the steward of the hospitals has taken for the sick whatever the physician prescribes, the best things left in the market are distributed to the halls in proportion to their numbers. The first served are the prince, then the chief priest, the tranibors, ambassadors, and strangers if any are among them. The latter indeed seldom happens, but they have well furnished houses designated particularly for the reception of strangers when they come.
At the hours of dinner and supper, the whole syphogranty is assembled by trumpet and they meet and eat together, except only those who are in the hospitals or lie sick at home. Yet after the halls are supplied, no one is prevented from carrying home provision from the marketplace, for they know that no one does this except for some good reason. For, though anyone who pleases may eat at home, no one does it from inclination, it being absurd to prepare a bad dinner at home, when a much more plentiful one is ready for him so near his residence.
The unpleasant and dirty tasks in these halls are performed by their slaves. But cutting their meat and arranging their tables is done by the women, every family taking it by rotation. They sit at three or more tables according to their number, the men toward the wall, the women on the outside. Thus, if any of the women suddenly become ill (which is not uncommon when they are pregnant), she may, without disturbing the rest, rise and go to the nursery, where there are nurses with the unweaned infants, clean water, cradles, and a fire. . . .
So you see, there are no idle people among them, nor any pretences for excusing any individual from labor. They have no taverns, bars, or brothels, nor any other mediums of corruption, of gathering in corners, or forming parties. All live in full view, and all are obliged to do their duty and properly devote time to their leisure. It is certain that, a nation thus regulated, must enjoy great abundance of all things, which being equally distributed, no one can need or be forced to beg. . . .
Slaves, Euthanasia
They make no slaves of prisoners of war, except of those who are taken in battle; nor of the sons of their own slaves, or of those of other countries. Their slaves are only those who are condemned to that state for some crime. Or, which is more common, they are those who their merchants find condemned to death in countries where they trade, whom they often ransom at low rates, and sometimes obtain for free. They are employed in perpetual labor, and are always chained. Their natives are treated much more severely than others, being considered as more immoral than the rest; and, since the advantages of so excellent an education were insufficient, they are judged worthy of harder usage.
Another kind of slave is the poor of neighboring countries, who voluntarily offer to serve them. The Utopians treat them better and use them in every respect as well as their own countrymen, except that they impose more labor upon them, which is no hardship to those who have been accustomed to it. If any of them desire to return to their own country (which indeed seldom happens) they neither force them to stay nor send them away empty-handed.
I have already related to you with what care they look after their sick, so that nothing is left undone which may contribute either to their health or ease. As for those who are afflicted with incurable disorders, they use all possible means of cherishing them, and making their lives as comfortable as possible. They visit them often, and take great pains to make their time pass easily. But if any have torturing, lingering pain, without hope of recovery or ease, the priests and magistrates visit and encourage them [to voluntarily end their lives]. They are unable to proceed with the business of life, have become a burden to themselves and all around them, and have in reality outlived themselves. Thus, they should no longer cling to a deep-rooted disease, but choose instead to die since they would only live in great misery. Being persuaded, if they thus relieve themselves from torture, or allow others to do it, they shall be happy after death. Since they forfeit none of the pleasures, but only the troubles of life by this, they think they not only act reasonably, but consistently with religion. For they follow the advice of their priests, the expounders of God’s will.
Those who are influenced by these reasons either starve themselves or take laudanum. But no one is compelled to end his life in this way, and if they cannot be persuaded to it, the former care and attendance on them is continued. Though they respect a voluntary death when chosen on such authority to be very honorable, on the contrary, if anyone commits suicide without the concurrence of the priests and senate, they do not honor the body with a decent funeral, but throw it into a ditch.
Marriage, Divorce, Adultery
Their women are not allowed to marry before eighteen, and their men not before twenty-two. If any of them is guilty of unlawful intercourse before marriage, they are severely punished, and they are not allowed to marry unless they can obtain a special authorization from the prince. Such disorderly conduct also brings a severe reprimand on the master and mistress of the family in which it happened, since it is concluded that they have been negligent in their duty. Their reason for punishing this so severely is because they think, were they not strictly restrained from all roaming appetites, very few would engage in a state in which they risk the peace of their whole lives by being tied to one person, and are obliged to endure all the inconveniences with which that state is accompanied.
In choosing their spouses, they adopt a plan which appears to us very extravagant, yet is constantly observed among them and considered very wise. Before marriage, a somber matron presents the bride (whether she is a virgin or widow) naked, to the bridegroom; and after that, some somber man presents the bridegroom naked to the bride. We laughed at this, and condemned it as very indecent. They, on the other hand, wondered at the folly of mankind in all other countries; who, if they buy but an inferior horse, examine him all over and take off his trappings. Yet a wife, on whom depends the happiness of the remainder of life, they take upon trust, regarding only her face, and leaving the rest of her body covered, where contagious and loathsome disorders may be concealed. All men are not so wise as to choose a woman only for her good qualities, and even the wise consider the body as adding more than a little to the mind. It is certain that clothes may conceal some deformity which may alienate a man from his wife when it is too late to part with her. If such a thing is discovered after marriage, he has no remedy but patience. They therefore think it is reasonable that good care should be taken to guard against such harmful deception.
There was the more reason for this regulation among them, because they are the only people of those parts who do not allow polygamy or [nonconsensual] divorce, except in cases of adultery or insufferable perverseness. In these cases the senate dissolves the marriage, and grants the injured permission to marry again. But the guilty are made infamous and never allowed the privilege of a second marriage. No one is allowed to put away his wife against her inclination, on account of any misfortune which may have happened to her person. They consider it the height of cruelty and treachery to abandon either of the married pair when they most need the tenderness of their partner. This is especially so in the case of old age, which brings many diseases with it, and is itself a disease. But it often happens that, when a married pair do not agree, they separate by mutual consent and find others with whom they hope to live more happily. Yet this is not done without permission from the senate, which never allows a divorce without a strict inquiry, by the senators and their wives, into the grounds on which it is desired. Even when they are satisfied as to the reasons of it, the matter proceeds slowly, for they are persuaded that a too prompt permission of new marriages would greatly impair the kind communication of the married.
They severely punish those who defile the marriage bed. If both of the offenders are married, they are divorced and the injured may intermarry [i.e., marry the other injured spouse], or marry whom else they please. But the adulterer and adulteress are condemned to slavery. But if the injured spouse cannot conquer the love of the offender, they may still live together, the partner following to the labor to which the slave is condemned. Sometimes the repentance of the condemned, and the unaltered kindness of the injured, have prevailed with the prince to take off the sentence. But those who relapse after they are once pardoned are punished with death.
ISSUES OF JUSTICE
Punishment
Their law does not determine the punishment of other crimes, it being left to the senate to fix it according to the circumstances of the case. Husbands are allowed to correct their wives, and parents their children, unless the offence is so great that public punishment is thought necessary for the sake of example. Slavery is generally the punishment, even of the greatest crimes. For it is no less terrible to the criminals than death, and they deem the preservation of them in servitude to be more for the interest of the state than killing them. Their labor is more beneficial to the public than their death could be, and the sight of their misery is a more lasting terror to others, than that of their death.
If their slaves will not bear their yoke nor submit to the labor prescribed them, but rebel, they are treated as wild animals that are incapable of being kept in order by a prison or chains, and they are finally put to death. But those who bear their punishment patiently, and appear to be more troubled by their crimes than their sufferings, are not without hope that in the end either the prince by his prerogative or the people by their intercession will restore them to liberty, or at least greatly lessen their slavery.
He who tempts a woman to adultery is no less severely punished than he who commits the crime. They deem a deliberate intention to commit a crime equal to the actual perpetration of it, since its not taking effect does not diminish the guilt of him who failed in his attempt.
Handicaps, Physical Appearance
They take great pleasure in fools. It is considered mean-spirited and unbecoming to treat them improperly, and they think it is not wrong for people to divert themselves with their folly, and that it is an advantage to the fools. For if men were so morose and severe as not to be at all amused with their ridiculous behavior and foolish sayings (which is all they can do to recommend themselves to others), it could not be expected that they would be so well provided for nor so tenderly used as otherwise.
Should any man criticize another for being misshapen, or imperfect in any part of his body, it would be thought no reflection on the person so treated, but scandalous in him who had faulted another with what he could not prevent.
It is thought a mark of a lazy and squalid attitude, not to preserve natural beauty with care. But it is wicked among them to wear makeup. They all see that no beauty recommends a wife to her husband so strongly as her integrity and obedience. Few only are attracted by beauty, but the other excellences charm the whole world.
Laws
If a man aspires ambitiously to any office, he loses it for certain. They live in loving association with each other, the magistrates never behaving either disrespectfully or cruelly to the people. They prefer rather to be called fathers, and by really being such, well merit the designation. The people pay them all marks of honor, the more freely because none are demanded from them. The prince himself has no distinction either of garments or a crown. A sheaf of corn only is carried before him, and a wax-light before the high-priest.
They have few laws, and their constitution is such that they require not many. They greatly condemn other countries, whose laws, with the commentaries on them, swell so many volumes. They consider it unreasonable to oblige men to obey a body of laws so large and intricate, as not to be read and understood by every subject.
They have no lawyers among them, since they consider them to be a class whose profession it is to disguise matters, and to twist the laws. Therefore they think it much better that every man should plead his own cause, and trust it to the judge, as elsewhere the client trusts it to his counselor. By this plan they avoid many delays, and find out the truth with more certainty. For, after the parties have opened the merits of the cause without the contrivances of lawyers, the judge examines the matter and supports the simplicity of those well-meaning persons, whom otherwise the scheming would run down. Thus they avoid those evils which appear so notable in those countries which labor under a vast load of laws.
Every one of them is skilled in their law. It is a very short study, and the plainest meaning of which words are capable is always the sense of it. They argue in this way. All laws are disseminated so that every man may know his duty. Therefore the plainest construction of words is what ought to be put upon them. A more refined exposition could not easily be understood, and would only make the laws useless to the greater part of mankind, especially to those who most need the guidance of them. It is the same thing whether you make no law at all, or couch it in terms of which, without a sharp mind and much study, men cannot find out the true meaning. For the generality of mankind are so dull and so busied in their jobs, that they have neither the leisure nor capacity required for such an inquiry. . . .
The Utopians call those who ask magistrates from them “neighbors”; but those to whom they have provided more particular services “friends”. While all other nations are perpetually making and breaking leagues, they never enter into alliance with any state. They think leagues useless, and believe, that if the common ties of humanity do not knit men together, the faith of promises will have little effect. They are the more confirmed in this by what they see of the nations around them, who are no strict observers of leagues and treaties.
War
They detest war as brutal, which, to the disgrace of human nature, is practiced more by man than by any animal. In opposition to the opinion of almost every other country, they think nothing is more inglorious than the glory gained by war. They involve themselves daily in military exercises and discipline, in which their women are also trained so that in cases of need they may not be completely useless. Nevertheless, they do not engage rashly in war, but only to defend themselves or their friends from aggression, or to assist the oppressed in shaking off the yoke of tyranny. They help their friends in offensive as well as defensive wars, but never without having been consulted before the breach was made, being satisfied as to the grounds, and finding every effort of accommodation unsuccessful.
They think war is just when a nation encroaches on the territory of its neighbor by public authority and takes away property; or when merchants are oppressed in a strange country, under pretence of unjust laws, or by the distortion of good ones. The latter they consider the juster cause, because injury is done under the appearance of law. . . .
Religious Tolerance
Various religions abound in different parts of the island, and even in every town. Some worship the sun, others the moon, or one of the planets. Others again worship men who have been famous for virtue or glory, not only as ordinary deities, but as the Supreme God. Yet the greater and wiser part adore one eternal, invisible, infinite, incomprehensible Deity. . . . By degrees they abandon their various superstitions and unite in the religion which is best and most respected. . . . Utopus understood that, before his coming among them, the inhabitants had been engaged in serious quarrels concerning religion. Through this they were so divided among themselves, that, with every party fighting by itself, he found it easy to conquer them. This done, he made a law that every man might be of what religion he pleased, and might try to draw others to his persuasion by argument, friendship, and modest behavior, without bitterness against those of other opinions. But those using any other force than that of persuasion, or using contempt or violence, were to be condemned to banishment or slavery.
This law was made by Utopus, not only to preserve the public peace, which he saw suffered much by daily contentions and irreconcilable sects, but because he thought the interest of religion itself required it. He judged it wrong to lay down anything rashly. He also seemed to doubt whether those different forms of religion might not all proceed from God, who might inspire men in a different manner, and be pleased with the variety. He therefore thought it indecent and foolish for any man to threaten and terrify another, to make him believe what did not strike him as true. Supposing only one religion to be true and the rest false, he imagined that the innate force of truth would at last break forth and shine with splendor, if supported only by the strength of reasoning, and attended to by a teachable and unprejudiced mind. On the other hand, if such debates were carried on with violence and disturbance, the best and holiest religion might be choked with superstition, as corn is with thorns and briars, since the most wicked people are always the most stubborn.
He therefore left men free to believe as they saw fit, making only a strict and severe law against those who should so far degenerate from the dignity of human nature, as to suppose that our souls died with our bodies, or that the world was governed by chance without a wise directing providence. For they all formerly believed that there is a state of rewards and punishments after this life. They now think those who think otherwise as unfit to be accounted men, degrading so noble a being as the soul of man, and ranking it with the animals. They look upon such men as totally unfit for human society, or to be citizens of a well-ordered commonwealth. With such principles, as often as they dare, they will despise all their laws and customs. For, there is no doubt that one who fears nothing but the law, and believes there is nothing after death, will not hesitate to violate all the laws of his country by fraud or force, when by so doing he can satisfy his appetites. . . .
CONCLUSION
When Raphael [the narrator of the above account] had thus finished his discourse, many things occurred to me about the manners and laws of these people which seemed very absurd, such as their art of war, their notions of religion, etc. But principally, what seemed the foundation of the rest, was their living in common without the use of money. Through this, all nobility, splendor, and majesty would be destroyed, which according to common opinion are the true ornaments of a nation. . . . Though it must be confessed that he is a very learned man, and one who has acquired great knowledge of the world, I cannot agree with everything he has said. Yet, I freely confess, there are many things in the commonwealth of Utopia that I wish, but have no hope of seeing, were adopted among us.
Source: Thomas More, Utopia (1518), 2, tr. Arthur Cayley.
Questions for Review
1. What is the political structure of the Utopian families and magistrates?
2. How are the Utopians more efficient than other societies?
3. How do the Utopians deal with terminally ill people?
4. How do the Utopians deal with premarital sex, adultery and divorce?
5. What are the reasons given for their practice of religious toleration?
Questions for Analysis
1. Plato argued that the manufacture of luxury goods is a vital part of a country’s economy. More, though, describes the manufacture of luxuries as an inefficient waste of time and suggests that a simpler life is better. Who is right and why?
2. Describe the Utopian institution of slavery, and discuss whether it’s an improvement over other types of slavery, which More seems to think it is.
3. More suggests that marriage, although a social necessity, can be very oppressive. Describe the problems and discuss whether the Utopians’ solutions are viable.
4. The Utopians have only a few laws and those they do have are plainly worded so that everyone can understand them. Thus, they have no need for lawyers. Give their reasons for this and discuss whether their approach would work.
5. While Utopians practice religious toleration, they do not permit atheism, specifically the denial of life after death and divine providence. What are their reasons for this and what, if anything, is wrong with this position?
6. More briefly describes a game that the Utopians play called “virtues and vices.” Develop More’s game as either a card game or board game. Select a few virtues and their corresponding vices as examples (e.g., courage-cowardice; temperance-intemperance; good temper-ill temper; wittiness-buffoonery; generosity-stinginess; self respect-arrogance).
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#8
POLITICAL SURVIVAL
Niccolò Machiavelli
Born in Florence Italy, Niccolò Machiavelli (1469–1527) was a statesman during a turbulent period of Italian history when its city-state governments were continually shifting. At one point he was accused of conspiracy and tortured, after which he retired from political life and devoted himself to writing. His most famous work, published five years after his death, is The Prince (1532), and selections from this are below. The controversial theme of this work is that rulers should use any means of retaining power that they can, including conduct that we ordinarily think is immoral or inappropriate for a ruler. What matters, for Machiavelli, is what successful rulers actually do to survive, not how we think that an ideal ruler ought to behave. This approach is often called “realpolitik”—German for “the politics of reality”— and it is so much associated with Machiavelli that the term “Machiavellian” is used synonymously with it. For Machiavelli, human nature does not allow us to always be virtuous, and, in fact, some virtues will lead to a ruler’s destruction while some vices will allow him to survive. Cases in point are the virtues of generosity, mercy, and honesty: the successful ruler will in fact need to have the opposing vices of stinginess, severity, and dishonesty on at least some occasions. With stinginess, people will appreciate the ruler all the more if they see that he is financially efficient and won’t burden them with expenses. With severity, death sentences affect only a few criminals, but they deter crimes that affect many people. With deception, rulers should know when to be deceitful when it suits their purposes. According to Machiavelli, the best thing that a ruler can do is to avoid being hated, even if he is not loved, since this will keep him from being overthrown.
REPUBLICS AND MONARCHIES (Ch. 1)
All states and governments that have held and hold rule over people have been and are either republics or monarchies. Monarchies are either hereditary, in which the family has been long established, or they are new. The new are either entirely new, as was Milan to Francesco Sforza, or they are like members annexed to the hereditary state of the prince who has acquired them, as was the kingdom of Naples to that of the King of Spain. Such dominions thus acquired are either accustomed to live under a prince, or to live in freedom, and are acquired either by the arms of the prince himself, or of others, or else by fortune or by ability.
I will leave out all discussion on republics, since in another place I have written on them at length, and will address myself only to monarchies. In doing so I will keep to the order indicated above, and discuss how such monarchies are to be ruled and preserved.
QUALITIES OF PRAISE AND BLAME IN A PRINCE (Ch. 15)
Imaginary vs. Real Virtues of a Prince
It remains now to see what should be the rules of conduct for a prince towards subject and friends. As I know that many have written on this point, I expect I will be considered presumptuous in mentioning it again, especially since my discussion will depart from the methods of other people. But, since it is my intention to write something which will be useful to those who grasp it, it appears to me more appropriate to follow up with the real truth of a matter rather than the imagination of it. For many describe republics and monarchies which in fact have never been known or seen. This is because how one actually lives is so far removed from how one ought to live. Thus, he who neglects what is done for what ought to be done, more quickly causes his destruction rather than his preservation. For a person who wishes to act entirely according to his declarations of virtue soon meets with an array of evils which destroy him.
Alleged Qualities of a Good Monarch
Thus, if a prince wishes to keep his position, it is necessary that he knows how to do wrong, and to make use of it or not according to necessity. Therefore, let us set aside imaginary things concerning a prince, and discuss those which are real. Accordingly, I say that when all people are spoken of (and especially princes since they are more visible) they are distinguished based on specific qualities which bring them either blame or praise. Because of this one person is said to be generous, another miserly, using a Tuscan term (because an avaricious person in our language is still he who desires to own things through theft, whereas we call one miserly who deprives himself too much of the use of what he owns). One is reputed to be generous, another greedy; one cruel, one compassionate; one dishonest, another honest; one weak and cowardly, another bold and brave; one friendly, another arrogant; one lustful, another chaste; one sincere, another cunning; one hard, another easy; one solemn, another frivolous; one religious, another unbelieving, and the like. I know that everyone will acknowledge that it would be most admirable for a prince to exhibit all the above qualities that are considered good. But these good qualities can neither be entirely possessed nor observed, since human conditions do not permit it. It is then necessary for a prince to be sufficiently careful so that he may know how to avoid the negative effects of those vices which would make him lose his state. If possible, he must also take care to keep himself from those which would not lose him it. If this is not possible, he may give himself to them with less hesitation. Again, he need not worry about subjecting himself to criticism for those vices which, if he lacked, would make saving his state difficult. For considering everything carefully, we see that something which looks like virtue would lead to his destruction if followed; alternatively, something else, which looks like vice, will bring him security and prosperity if followed.
GENEROSITY VS. STINGININESS (Ch. 16)
Better to be stingy than generous
Starting then with the first of the above-named characteristics, suppose I say that it is best if one is thought to be generous. However, generosity injures you when exercised in a way that does not bring you the reputation for it. For if one exercises it honestly, as it should be exercised, people will not know about it, and you will not avoid the criticism of its opposite. Therefore, it seems that if anyone wishes to maintain a reputation of generosity among people, one should not avoid the attribute of lavishness. However, by doing so a prince will consume all his property in such acts and, if he wishes to keep the reputation of generosity, he will unjustly burden his people, and tax them, and do everything he can to get money. This will soon make him despised by his subjects, and becoming poor he will be little valued by anyone. Thus, having offended many and rewarded few with his generosity, he is affected by every trouble and threaten by every danger. Recognizing this himself, and wishing to draw back from it, he runs immediately into criticism for being miserly.
Therefore, a prince is not able to visibly exercise this virtue of generosity, except at great cost. If he is wise, then, he should not worry about having a reputation of being stingy. For in time he will be considered generous when people see that, with his economizing, his income is sufficient to defend himself against all attacks, and he is able to engage in enterprises without burdening his people. In this way he shows generosity towards the numberless people from whom he does not take, and stinginess only towards the few people to whom he does not give.
We have not seen great things done in our time except by those who have been considered stingy. The rest have failed. Pope Julius the Second was assisted in reaching the papacy by a reputation for generosity, yet he did not try afterwards to keep it up when he made war on the King of France. He also made many wars without imposing any extraordinary tax on his subjects, for he supplied his additional expenses out of his long thriftiness. The present King of Spain would not have undertaken or succeeded in so many efforts if he had a generous reputation. Thus, a prince should not worry about having a reputation for being stingy, provided that he does not have to rob his subjects, that he can defend himself, that he does not become poor and abject, that he is not forced to become greedy. For it is one of those vices which will enable him to govern.
Reply to Counter Examples
Suppose someone says that Caesar obtained his empire through generosity, and many others have reached the highest positions by having been generous, and by being considered so. To this I answer that either you are currently a prince, or are in the process of becoming one. In the first case this generosity is dangerous, in the second it is very necessary to be considered generous. Caesar was one of those who wished to become preeminent in Rome. But if he had survived after becoming so, and had not moderated his expenses, he would have destroyed his government. Suppose someone replies that there have been many princes who have done great things with armies, and yet have been considered very generous. To this I reply that either a prince spends that which is his own or his subjects’, or else that of others. In the first case he should be sparing, and in the second case he should not neglect any opportunity for generosity. Regarding the prince who advances with his army, supporting it by pillage, destruction, and extortion, handling that which belongs to others, this generosity is necessary, otherwise he would not be followed by soldiers. You can be a willing giver of that which is neither yours nor your subjects’ (as Cyrus, Caesar, and Alexander were) because it does not take away your reputation if you squander that of others, but adds to it. It is only squandering your own that injures you.
There is nothing that dissipates so rapidly as generosity. For even while you exercise it, you lose the power to do so, and become either poor or despised. Alternatively, in avoiding poverty you become greedy and hated. Above everything else, a prince should guard himself against being despised and hated, and generosity leads you to both. Therefore it is wiser to have a reputation for stinginess which brings criticism without hatred, than to be compelled through seeking a reputation for generosity to incur a reputation for greed which results in disapproval with hatred.
SEVERITY VS. MERCY, BEING LOVED VS. FEARED (Ch. 17)
Severity in Punishment better than Mercy
Turning now to the other qualities mentioned above, suppose I say that every prince should desire to be considered merciful and not cruel. Nevertheless he should try not to misuse this mercy. Cesare Borgia was considered cruel. In spite of his cruelty, he reconciled the Romagna, unified it, and restored it to peace and loyalty. If this is properly considered, we will see that he was much more merciful than the Florentine people, who, to avoid a reputation for cruelty, permitted [the northern Italian city of] Pistoia to be destroyed. Therefore, so long as a prince keeps his subjects united and loyal, he should not mind the criticism of cruelty. With a few examples of cruelty he will be more merciful than princes who, through too much mercy, allow disorders to arise, from which result murders or robberies. For these typically injure the whole people, whereas those executions which originate with a prince harm the individual only.
Of all princes, it is impossible for a new prince to avoid the accusation of cruelty, since new states are full of dangers. Hence Virgil, through the mouth of Dido, excuses the inhumanity of her reign because of its newness, saying,
Against my will, my fate,
A throne unsettled, and an infant state,
Bid me defend my realms with all my powers,
And guard with these severities my shores.
Nevertheless he should be slow to believe and to act. He should also not display fear, but act calmly with thought and humanity so that too much confidence does not make him incautious and too much distrust make him intolerable.
Better to be Feared than Loved
From this issue another question arises: is it better to be loved than feared, or feared than loved? It may be answered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved, when one of the two must be dispensed with. For we can generally say of people that they are ungrateful, inconsistent, deceitful, cowardly, and selfish. But as long as you benefit them, they are yours entirely. They will offer you their blood, property, life and children (as I noted above) when the need is far off. But when the need approaches, they turn against you. The prince is ruined who relies only on their promises and has neglected other precautions. This is because friendships that are obtained by payments, and not by greatness or nobility of mind, may indeed be earned, but they are not secured, and in time of need cannot be counted on. Further, people have less scruple in offending someone who is beloved rather than someone who is feared. For love is preserved by the link of obligation which, because of the corruption of people, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage. But fear preserves you by a fear of punishment which never fails.
Nevertheless a prince should create fear in such a way that, if he does not win love, he avoids hatred. For, he can survive very well being feared so long as he is not hated. And he will not be hated as long as he abstains from the property of his citizens and subjects and from their women. But when it is necessary for him to take someone’s life, he must do it on proper justification and for clear cause. Above all, though, he must keep his hands off the property of others, because people more quickly forget the death of their father than the loss of their inheritance. Besides, excuses abound for taking away property. For he who begins to live by robbery will always find excuses for seizing others’ possessions. But reasons for taking life, on the contrary, are more difficult to find and sooner lapse. When a prince is with his army and in control of a large number of soldiers, then it is absolutely necessary for him to disregard the reputation of cruelty, for without it he would never keep his army united or willing to follow their duties.
The Severity of Hannibal
Among the wonderful deeds of Hannibal, one is particularly noteworthy. Hannibal led an enormous army, composed of various races of people, to fight in foreign lands. Whether in his bad or in his good fortune, no conflict arose either among the soldiers or against the prince. This arose from nothing other than his inhuman cruelty, which, with his boundless courage, made him revered and frightening in the sight of his soldiers. But without that cruelty, his other virtues would not be sufficient to produce this effect. Shortsighted writers admire his deeds from one point of view, yet from another condemn the principal cause of them. To prove that his other virtues would not have been sufficient for him, we may consider the case of Scipio, that most excellent person both within his own time and within the memory of humankind. Nevertheless, his army rebelled against him in Spain. This arose from nothing but his excessive tolerance, which gave his soldiers more license than is consistent with military discipline. For this he was condemned in the Senate by Fabius Maximus, and called the corrupter of the Roman army. The Locrians were destroyed by an officer of Scipio, yet they were not avenged by him, nor was the insult of the legate punished, owing entirely to his easy nature. Insomuch that someone in the Senate, wishing to excuse him, said there were many people who knew much better how not to err than to correct the errors of others. This disposition, if he had been continued in the command, would have destroyed in time the fame and glory of Scipio; but, he being under the control of the Senate, this injurious characteristic not only concealed itself, but contributed to his glory.
Returning to the question of being feared or loved, I come to the conclusion that, people loving according to their own will and fearing according to that of the prince, a wise prince should establish himself on that which is in his own control and not in that of others. Thus, he must try only to avoid hatred, as is noted.
HONESTY VS. DECEPTION (Ch. 18)
Emulate both the Fox and the Lion.
Everyone admits how good it is in a prince to be honest, and to live with integrity and not with deceit. Nevertheless, our experience has been that those princes who have done great things have had little regard for honesty, and have known how to circumvent the intellect of people by deceit, and in the end have overcome those who have relied on their word. You must know that there are two ways of contesting, the one by the law, the other by force. The first method is proper to humans, the second to animals. But because the first is frequently not sufficient, it is necessary to have recourse to the second. Therefore it is essential for a prince to understand how to make use of both the animal and the human. This has been figuratively taught to princes by ancient writers. It is described how Achilles and many other past princes were given to Chiron, the Centaur, to nurse and be raised in his discipline. The meaning of this story is that, just as they had for a teacher one who was half animal and half human, so it is necessary for a prince to know how to make use of both natures, and that one without the other cannot survive. Since a prince is therefore compelled to consciously adopt the persona of animal, he should choose both the fox [for its deceitfulness] and the lion [for its powerfulness]. This is because the lion cannot defend himself against snares, and the fox cannot defend himself against wolves. Thus, it is necessary to be a fox to discover the snares, and a lion to terrify the wolves. Those who rely simply on the lion do not understand what they are about. Accordingly, a wise ruler cannot nor should he be honest when such observance may be turned against him, and when the reasons that caused him to pledge it no longer exist. If people were entirely good, this rule would not hold. But because they are bad, and will not be honest with you, you too are not bound to observe it with them. Nor will a prince ever be lacking good reasons to excuse this nonobservance. Endless modern examples of this could be given, showing how many treaties and engagements have been made void and ineffective because of the dishonesty of princes. But he who has known best how to employ the fox has succeeded best.
Appearance of Virtue
But it is necessary to know well how to disguise this characteristic, and to be a great pretender and deceiver. People are so simple and so subject to present needs, that anyone who seeks to deceive will always find someone who will allow himself to be deceived. There is one recent example which I cannot pass over in silence. Alexander VI did nothing but deceive people, nor ever thought of doing otherwise, and he always found victims. For there never was a person who had greater ability in asserting, or who with greater oaths would affirm something, yet would observe it less. Nevertheless, his deceits always succeeded according to his wishes, because he well understood this side of human nature.
Therefore it is unnecessary for a prince to have all the virtuous qualities I have enumerated. But it is very necessary for him to appear to have them. I will dare to say this also, that to have them and always to observe them is injurious, and that to appear to have them is useful. Thus one should appear merciful, honest, humane, religious, upright, and also be that way. But your mind should be framed so that if you are required not to be so, you may be able and know how to change to the opposite.
You have to understand that a prince, especially a new one, cannot follow all those things for which people are respected. For, in order to maintain the state, he is often forced to act contrary to honesty, friendship, humanity, and religion. Therefore it is necessary for him to have a mind ready to turn itself with the winds and as changes of fortune force it. Yet, as I have said above, he should not diverge from the good if he can avoid doing so, but, if compelled to go against the good, he should know how to set about it.
For this reason a prince should take care that he never lets anything slip from his lips that is not overflowing with the above-named five qualities, so that he may appear to those who see and hear him altogether merciful, honest, humane, upright, and religious. There is nothing more necessary to appear to have than this last quality [of religiousness]. For, people generally judge more by the eye than by the hand, and everybody is capable of seeing you, and few can come in touch with you. Everyone sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are, and those few dare not oppose themselves to the opinion of the many, who have the majesty of the state to defend them. In the actions of all people, and especially of princes which it is not prudent to challenge, one judges by the result.
For that reason, let a prince aim at conquering and keeping his state, and the means of attaining it will always be considered honest, and he will be praised by everybody. This is because the common people are always taken by what a thing seems to be and by what comes of it. And in the world there are only common people. For the few who are not common people find a place in the world only when the many have no ground on which to.
One prince of the present time, whom it is not best to name [i.e., Maximilian I, Holy Roman Emperor], never preaches anything else but peace and honesty, and to both he is most hostile, and either, if he had kept it, would have deprived him many times of reputation and kingdom.
BEING HATED AND OVERTHROWN (Ch. 19)
How to Avoid being Hated
Now, concerning the characteristics of which I have mentioned above, I have spoken of the more important ones. The others I wish to discuss briefly under this generality, that the prince must consider, as has been in part said before, how to avoid those things that will make him hated or contemptible. As often as he succeeds, he will have fulfilled his part, and he won’t need to fear any danger in other condemnations.
To be greedy, as I have said, makes him hated above everything, and he must abstain from violating both his subjects’ property and women. When neither their property nor honor is touched, the majority of people live content, and he has only to contend with the ambition of a few, whom he can curb with ease in many ways.
It makes him contemptible to be considered indecisive, frivolous, weak, mean-spirited, irresolute, from all of which a prince should guard himself as from a rock. In his actions he should try to show greatness, courage, gravity, and fortitude. In his private dealings with his subjects, let him show that his judgments are irrevocable, and maintain himself in such reputation that no one can hope either to deceive him or to get around him.
That prince is highly respected who conveys this impression of himself, and he who is highly respected is not easily conspired against. For, provided it is well known that he is an excellent person and revered by his people, he can only be attacked with difficulty. For this reason a prince should have two fears, one from within, on account of his subjects, the other from without, on account of external powers. From the latter he is defended by being well armed and having good allies, and if he is well armed he will have good friends, and affairs will always remain quiet within when they are quiet without, unless they should have been already disturbed by conspiracy. Even if affairs outside are disturbed, if he has carried out his preparations and has lived as I have said, as long as he does not despair, he will resist every attack, as I said Nabis the Spartan did.
How to Avoid being Overthrown.
But concerning his subjects, when affairs outside are disturbed he has only to fear that they will conspire secretly, from which a prince can easily secure himself by avoiding being hated and despised, and by keeping the people satisfied with him, which it is most necessary for him to accomplish, as I said above at length. One of the most effective remedies that a prince can have against conspiracies is not to be hated and despised by the people. For those who conspire against a prince always expects to please people by his removal. But when the conspirator can only look forward to offending people, he will not have the courage to take such a course, for the difficulties that confront a conspirator are infinite. As experience shows, many have been the conspiracies, but few have been successful. This is because he who conspires cannot act alone, nor can he take a companion except from those whom he believes to be malcontents, and as soon as you have opened your mind to a malcontent you have given him the material with which to content himself, for by denouncing you he can look for every advantage. Thus, seeing the gain from this course to be assured, and seeing the other to be doubtful and full of dangers, he must be a very rare friend, or a thoroughly obstinate enemy of the prince, to keep faith with you.
To reduce the matter into a small compass, I say that, on the side of the conspirator, there is nothing but fear, jealousy, and prospect of punishment to terrify him. But on the side of the prince there is the majesty of the monarchy, the laws, the protection of friends and the state to defend him. Adding to all these things the popular goodwill, it is impossible that anyone should be so rash as to conspire. For whereas in general the conspirator has to fear before the execution of his plot, in this case he has also to fear what will occur after his crime. Because of this he has the people for an enemy, and thus cannot hope for any escape.
Source: Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince (1532), Ch. 15-19, tr. W.K. Marriott.
Questions for Review
1. Machiavelli argues that rulers should be stingy, and not generous. In the section on replies to counter examples, what are the examples that he cites, and how does he resopnd to them?
2. How does Machiavelli answer the question about whether it is better to be loved of feared, and what is his reasoning?
3. Machiavelli argues that rulers should be like both the fox and the lion. In which ways should the ruler emulate these animals?
4. In the section on the appearance of virtue, what are the five virtues that rulers should at least appear to have, and why is being religious and easy one to fake?
5. How should a ruler avoid being hated and overthrown?
Questions for Analysis
1. Plato argued that the perfect ruler is a philosopher who understands universal truths, particularly justice. Machiavelli, by contrast, is not concerned with moral issues like true justice, but rather with what is necessary for a ruler to survive. Which of these two views is preferable and why?
2. Machiavelli argues that generosity will lead to a ruler’s ruin, and stinginess preferable. Is he right? Examine his arguments and explain.
3. Machiavelli argues that it is better for a ruler to be feared than loved, as long as he isn’t hated. What is his reasoning for this and what, if anything, is wrong with his position?
4. Machiavelli argues that it is important for leaders to appear to be religious, and that religious belief is easy to fake. Analyze his reasoning and explain whether you agree.
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#9
AGAINST TYRANTS
Stephen Junius Brutus
“Stephen Junius Brutus” is a pseudonym for the unidentified author of the sixteenth-century political work titled Vindication Against Tyrants (1579). Possibilities for its authorship are French statesman Hubert Languet (1518–1581), or French theologian Philippe de Mornay (1549–1623). While unsure about its author, we do know its historical context. It was composed by a French protestant who was reacting against the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre in 1572 in which, upon the order of the King, tens of thousands of Protestants were killed throughout France by Catholics. The work addresses four questions regarding resisting kings, the third and longest is “Whether it is lawful to resist a prince who oppresses or ruins a public state,” from which the selections below are taken. The central theme here is that the people are superior to the king, and have put the king in power to perform specific tasks on behalf of the country. If the king fails to uphold his part of the contract, then the people, under the guidance of government officials, can rightfully overthrow the king. The author begins arguing that God establishes kings, but it is the people who confirm the selection of the king through their vote—either by electing kings individually or electing a hereditary bloodline. All kings are put in power to be servants of the people, and, thus, the people are above the king. In addition to the king, there are other ministers and officers of the country who are appointed by the people for the benefit of the commonwealth and to guard it. These officers’ primary loyalty lies with the people, not to the king, and one of their functions is to assure that the king perform his twofold task: to maintain justice among individuals and to protect the country from enemies. Kings are thus under the law and need to accept their subordinate role. All authority that the king possesses comes from two distinct contracts. One is between God and the king, which requires the king to glorify and obey God. The other is between people and the king, which requires the king to secure the welfare of the people. If the king does not fulfill his contract with the people, then the people are freed from their duty towards the king and can revolt against him. The author warns that no human is perfect, including kings, and it is only the tyrannical ones that can be removed. In such cases, diplomacy should be tried first through the reprimands of government officials. If that fails, government officials with the aid of the people can remove the king, even through armed conflict if necessary.
KING MADE BY THE PEOPLE
People Elect the King
We have shown above that it is God who establishes kings, choosing them and conferring kingdoms upon them. Now we are to show that the people set up kings, commit kingdoms to them, and confirm the election by their vote. Indeed God has willed that it should be done in this manner, in order that kings should acknowledge that whatever authority and power they possess have been received from the people, and that they should, therefore, devote all their thought and efforts to the interests of the people. Nor should kings think that they excel other men through some superiority of nature in the way that men stand above flocks of sheep or herds of cattle. Let them remember that they are born of the same stuff as other men and have been raised from the ground to their high station by the vote and, as it were, upon the shoulders of the people, in order that the burden of the commonwealth should thereafter rest in great part upon their own shoulders. . . .
In a word, all kings were in the beginning elected. Those who today appear to succeed to their kingdoms by inheritance were necessarily first established by the people. Although the people of certain countries are accustomed to choose their kings from a particular bloodline because of its unusual merits, nevertheless, it is the bloodline and not the branch that they choose. Nor do they so choose but that if that stock should degenerate they may select another. Those who are next in line for the kingship are not born kings; they rather become such: they are not deemed kings so much as candidates for the kingship.
PEOPLE ABOVE THE KING
Kings are Servants of the People
Since kings are established by the people, it certainly seems to follow that the whole body of the people are superior to the king. For it is evident that he who is established by another is accounted less than he that has established him, and that he who receives his authority from another is inferior to him from whom he derives his authority. Potiphar, the Egyptian, thus established Joseph above all his household; Nebuchadnezzar, Daniel over the province of Babylon; Darius, the hundred and twenty governors over his kingdom. Masters are said to establish their servants; kings, their ministers. In like manner, the people establish the king as “minister of the commonwealth”—a designation which good kings have not scorned, and bad ones have only pretended to assume. Thus, for several generations no Roman emperor (except perhaps some obvious tyrant, such as Nero, Domitian, or Caligula) wished to be called “lord”.
Moreover, it is clear that kings were instituted for the benefit of the people. You could not say that for the sake of some hundred men, inferior to most of the rest of the community, that the whole community was created for them. Rather it is that the former were created for the latter. Reason requires that he on whose account another exists should be deemed superior to that other. Thus for the sake of the ship the owner appoints a captain, who sits at the helm to see that she is not dashed to pieces upon the rocks or follow the wrong course. Relying upon him in that work, the others serve him; even the owner obeys him. Nevertheless, the captain is but a servant of the ship, differing from the common drudges only in type of work. In the commonwealth the king has the place of captain, the people that of owner. As long as the king is attentive to the public good the people properly submit to him, yet in such a way that he is considered, as he should be, the servant of the commonwealth, in the same capacity as a judge or tribune who differs from the rest of the people only insofar as he is expected to have greater burdens and expose himself to greater dangers. Thus, that which the king acquires through war, as when he occupies territory by right of conquest, or through payments into the treasury in the administration of justice, he acquires not for himself, but for the kingdom—that is, for the people who have established the kingdom, just as a servant makes acquisitions for his master. Nor can any obligation be contracted with the king except by the authorization of the people. . . . Since, therefore, the king exists through, and for the sake of, the people, and without the people cannot stand, who will wonder at our conclusion that the people are greater than the king?
Ministers of the King vs. Ministers of the Kingdom
Now, what we have said concerning the whole body of the people we wish also to be said concerning those who in every kingdom or city lawfully represent the body of the people, and who are commonly deemed officers of the kingdom and not of the king. For officers of the king are created and discharged by him at his pleasure, and when he is dead they no longer have any authority; they are themselves counted as dead. Officers of the kingdom, on the other hand, receive their authority from the people (at any rate they were formerly accustomed so to do) in public assembly, and can be discharged only by that same power. The former, therefore, depend upon the king, the latter upon the kingdom. The former should be responsible to the supreme officer of the kingdom—to the king; the latter, to the supreme sovereign—the people, upon whom the king himself, and through him his officers, must depend. The function of the former is to guard the king; of the latter, to see that no harm occurs to the commonwealth. The former are to aid and serve the king, like domestic servants of a master; the latter are to preserve the rights and privileges of the people and to take diligent care that the king commit or omit nothing to their damage. In short, the former are ministers, servants, domestics of the king, instituted only to obey him. The latter, as associates of the king in the administration of justice and as partakers of royal authority, are bound, like the king himself, to administer the affairs of the commonwealth. He, as chief among them, holds first place only in degree. As the whole people is superior to the king, so their representatives, though individually inferior to him, should in the aggregate be counted superior to him.
Why Kings were first Established
We must now inquire why kings were established in the first place, and what their principal duty was. For a thing is considered good only when it fulfills the purpose for which it was instituted. In the first place, it is clear that men are by nature free, impatient of servitude, born rather to command than to obey. Thus, except for the sake of some great profit, men would not have chosen subjection to another person and have renounced their own natural right, so to speak, to submit to the right of another. . . . Nor let us think that kings were chosen to convert to their own uses the goods obtained by the sweat of the many; for everyone loves and cherishes his own. Nor were they created that they might squander the public power to their own pleasure; for ordinarily anyone hates, or at least envies, his superior. They were established to protect individuals from each other by the administration of justice, and to defend everyone from dangers from without by repelling force with force. Thus, Augustine says that those who care for the interests of others are properly said to rule, as the husband rules the wife, or parents their children. Those whose interests are cared for are said to obey; although those who thus rule really serve those whom they are said to command. For, as Augustine also says, they command not for the sake of ruling but because of their duty to care for whom they are responsible; not for the glory of domination, but out of pity to guard those committed to their protection. . . . To govern, then, is simply to give counsel. The only end of government is the good of the people. The sole duty of governors and kings is to take care of the people. Royal dignity is, properly speaking, not an honor, but a burden; not a privilege, but a calling; not an exemption from responsibility, but a duty; not a freedom, but a public service. Some honor indeed is attached to the position; one would hardly be willing to take on such troubles unless they were flavored with some relish of honor. The common saying is true that if everyone knew with how great annoyances the royal crown was surrounded, no one would pick it up if he found it at his feet along the road.
When the words "mine" and "yours" had entered into the world, conflicts arose among citizens concerning ownership of things, and between neighboring peoples over boundaries. It then became customary to rely on someone who would justly and effectively see that the poor suffered no violence from the rich, or the whole nation from their neighbors. When such contests and wars became more violent, a permanent choice was made of someone for whose valor and diligence all had high regard. Thus kings were first established to administer justice at home and lead the army abroad. . . . Kings were ordained by God and established by the people for the benefit of the citizens. This benefit consists principally in two things: in the maintenance of justice among individuals and of security against enemies.
Kings are Under the Law
We must proceed a little further. Does the king, because he presides in the administration of justice, administer justice according to his own free will? Does the king depend on law, or law on the king? . . . The Spartan [geographer] Pausanias answers concisely: "Authority pertains to laws as against men, not to men as against laws." . . . We must carry the matter further yet. Since the people were seeking justice through law, if this could be obtained from a single good and just man, they were satisfied with him. But this was hardly possible, and indeed rarely happened. In fact as long as the judgments of kings were received as the equivalent of laws, it turned out that certain things were declared as laws at one time and others at another time. It thus became the function of magistrates and other wise men to discover, as it were, laws which could speak with one and the same voice to all men. Kings were then entrusted with the duty of guarding, administering and conserving laws. Because laws were not capable of providing in advance for every contingency, kings might determine certain cases by the same natural justice from which the laws themselves were derived. But unless in these cases the kings should do violence to the law, those superior men, concerning whom we have just spoken, were soon associated with the kings by the people.
Kings themselves should be obedient to law and acknowledge it as their superior. ... Nor should they consider that they govern any less because they submit to law. For law is a kind of instrument by means of which human societies are best ruled and directed to a happy end. Thus, kings are foolish who think it is dishonorable to submit to law, just as a geometrician would be who would consider it unbecoming to use the rule and other instruments ordinarily employed by those most expert in making measurements, or as a mariner would be who would prefer to wander recklessly rather than direct the course of his ship by the nautical compass. Who will hesitate to say that it is more expedient and honorable to obey the law rather than a man? Law is the soul of the good king; in it is his inspiration, feeling, and life. The king is the organ of the law, the body through which the law exercises its power, fulfils its function and expresses its meaning. Now it is more reasonable to obey the soul than the body. Law is the concentrated reason and wisdom of many sages. The many are more clear-sighted and far-seeing than the one; it is, therefore, safer to follow the law than a man, however insightful he may be. Law is reason or calm intelligence, and free from the influence of anger, greed, hate, or prejudice. Nor is it deflected by tears or threats. Man, on the other hand, however gifted with reason, is seized and overcome by wrath, vengeance and other passions. He is so disturbed by these emotions that he is not master of himself; he is composed of both reason and passion, and he cannot always prevent the latter from gaining the upper hand. . . . Law is the blending of a multitude of minds, and mind is a part of the divine spirit. Thus, he who obeys the law seems to obey God and to make God his judge.
ROYAL AUTHORITY BASED ON CONTRACT
Two Contracts with the King
We have said that in establishing a king a two-fold pact was entered into. The one, concerning which we have already spoken, is between God, on the one hand, and the king and people, on the other. The other pact is between the king and the people. We must examine the latter now. After Saul was appointed the royal law was delivered to him, according to which he was to govern. David, also, in Hebron made a covenant in the presence of the Lord— that is, God being present as witness—with the elders of Israel, who represented the whole people; after that he was anointed king. . . . Likewise Josiah promised to observe the commandments, testimonies and precepts comprised in the book of the covenant; by these words are to be understood the laws, which relate in some places to piety, and in others to justice. In all of these passages the covenant is said to have been made with all the people, or with the entire multitude, all the elders, or all the men of Judea. From this we know that not only the chiefs of the tribes but also the captains, centurions and inferior magistrates were present, representing the towns, so that all might individually make a pact with the king. In this pact it was a matter of creating a king; for the people made the king, not vice versa. It cannot be doubted that in this contract the people had the part of stipulator, the king that of promisor. And the part of stipulator is considered the more advantageous at law. The people, as stipulator, ask the king whether he will govern justly and according to the laws; the king promises that he will. The people then respond that they will faithfully obey him while he governs justly. The king, therefore, promises absolutely, the people conditionally. If the condition is not fulfilled the people are lawfully absolved from every obligation. In the first pact or contract there is an obligation to piety, in the second, to justice. In the former, the king promises dutifully to obey God, in the latter, that he will rule the people justly; in the one that he will provide for the glory of God, in the other, that he will secure the welfare of the people. In the first contract the condition is “if you observe my law”. In the second it is “if you give to each his due.” Failure to fulfill the first pact is duly punished by God; failure to fulfill the second is legitimately punishable by the whole people or by those magistrates whose function it is to protect the people. . . .
The civil law permits a freedman to bring an action against his patron for any grievous injury, and under similar circumstances the same law frees a slave from his master (though these obligations are natural, not civil). If all these things are true, is it not even more certain that the people should be absolved from the oath which they have taken to the king, if he, who first swore solemnly to them, as an agent to his principal, has broken his oath?
Even if the formalities of a contract have never taken place, are we not sufficiently taught by nature herself that kings are established by the people with the condition that they govern well; judges, that they judge justly; military leaders, that they lead forth the army against the enemy? . . .
But, you may ask, what if the people, subdued by force, are compelled by a prince to swear allegiance according to his own terms? I reply, what if a robber, pirate, or tyrant, with whom there is considered to be no bond of justice, should, with an uplifted sword, extort a promissory note from anyone? Is it not well known that a promise demanded through violence does not bind, especially if anything is promised against good morals or contrary to the law of nature? What is more repugnant to nature than that the people should fasten their own chains and shackles? Or that they should promise the king to throw themselves upon the sword or lay violent hands upon themselves? There is, therefore, between king and people a mutual obligation which, whether it is civil or natural, tacit or express, cannot be abolished by agreement, violated by any law, or rescinded by force. So great is the strength of this obligation that the prince who obstinately violates it may be truly called a “tyrant”, and the people who willfully break it called “seditious”.
OPPOSING TYRANTS
Two Types of Tyrants
So far we have examined kings. It now remains for us to describe somewhat more accurately the tyrant. We have said that the king is he who rules and governs a kingdom, attaining his position either through heredity or through election confirmed by the appropriate rites. In contrast to this it follows that he is a tyrant who either has seized the government by civil means or, ruling in a regular manner, does so in a manner that is contrary to right and justice, and in violation of the laws and pacts to which he has solemnly bound himself. Both characters of tyrant may exist in one and the same person. The former is commonly called the tyrant without title, the latter the tyrant by practice. It may easily happen that he who gains a kingdom by violence should rule justly, or that he upon whom a kingdom descends lawfully should rule unjustly. Inasmuch as the kingship is a law-created right rather than inherited property, an office rather than a possession, he would seem more deserving of the name of tyrant who performs his duty badly than he who enters upon his duty in irregular manner. . . .
Justification for Opposing Tyrants
Now finally we have come to the principal point of our question. . . . It remains now for us to determine whether, by whom, and by what means a tyrant may be lawfully resisted. . . .
In the first place, the law of nature teaches us to preserve and defend our life and our liberty—without which life is hardly worth while, against every violence and wrong. Nature has implanted this instinct in dogs against wolves, in bulls against lions, in doves against hawks, in young fowl against kites, and yet more strongly in man against man himself when a man becomes a wolf to his fellow-man. Therefore, he who questions whether it is permissible to resist seems to challenge nature herself. The law of nations teaches the same: by this dominions are defined and boundaries established which everyone is obligated to defend against all invaders. It is thus no less lawful to resist Alexander when, without right and provoked by no wrong, he invades a country with a powerful fleet, than to resist Diomedes the pirate, when he with one vessel renders dangerous the sea. In such case Alexander surpasses Diomedes not in his right but only in his security from punishment. It is as proper to oppose Alexander in ravaging the country as it is to oppose a pickpocket in stealing a watch, or a man who would subvert the city by trickery as a robber who would break into a private house.
Furthermore, there is a civil law whereby societies of men are established under a fixed system, some being governed in one manner, some in another. Thus some are ruled by one or a few, others by the people as a whole. Some exclude women from the government, others admit them. Some choose their kings from a single family, others select them indiscriminately. If anyone attempts to violate this law by force or fraud we are all bound to resist him, because he wrongs society (to which he owes everything) and would undermine his country, to which we are all devoted by nature, law, and solemn oath. If we neglect this duty we are traitors to our country, deserters from human society, condemners of the law.
As thus the law of nature, the law of nations, and civil law command us to take up arms against tyrants, no other reason can properly deter us. No oath or other pact, public or private, interposes to prevent us. It is, therefore, permitted to any private person to eject an intruding tyrant. Nor does the Julian law of treason which punishes those who rebel against their country or prince, apply here. For he is no prince who without lawful title invades the commonwealth or confines of another, nor he a rebel who defends his country with arms. ... To as little purpose can the laws of sedition be appealed to here. He is seditious who undertakes to sustain the people in resisting public discipline. But he who restrains the subverter of the country and of public discipline does not create sedition; he prevents it. . . .
Identifying a Tyrant
Concerning those who practice tyranny, whether having first acquired their authority lawfully or by force, it is important for us to make a careful examination. In the first place, we should consider that all princes are born men and that their reason can as little be made free from passion as the mind can be separated from the body. Therefore, we should not hope to have only perfect princes; we should rather deem ourselves fortunate if we find mediocre ones. If in certain cases the prince does not observe moderation, if now and then he does not yield to reason, if he looks carelessly to the public welfare, if he becomes less diligent in administration of justice or less zealous in warding off war, he must not immediately be called a tyrant. For he rules not as man over animals or God over men, but as a man born of the same condition as other men. As a prince would be considered arrogant who sought to abuse men as if they were animals, so the people are unjust if they expect a god in a prince or look for divinity in his imperfect nature. But if he deliberately upsets the commonwealth, if he recklessly perverts lawful rights, or has no regard for oaths and covenants, for justice or piety, then indeed he should be declared a tyrant—that is, an enemy of God and man. We are thus not speaking of a prince who is less good, but one who is absolutely bad; not one who is less wise, but of one who is malicious and treacherous; not of him who is ignorant of the law, but of the condemner of law; not of an unwarlike prince, but of a prince who is enemy of the people and ravager of the kingdom. The weak prince might be disposed to employ the wisdom of the senate, the praetor's knowledge of the law, the tribune's military skill; but the tyrant would be happy if the nobility, the senators and the commanders had only one neck which he might take off with one swipe, for no others does he regard with more hatred than these. Although the weak prince might rightly be deposed, nevertheless he can be endured; but the longer the tyrant is tolerated the more insufferable he becomes.
It is not always convenient for the people to do that which they may lawfully do. It often happens that a remedy which is applied is worse than the disease. So it is wise for men to try all means before taking up the sword. If those officers who represent the people perceive that anything is being done, through force or fraud, against the common well-being, they should at once reprimand the prince, not waiting until the evil becomes graver and acquires greater strength. For tyranny is like a hectic fever, which, at first easily cured but detected with difficulty, later becomes easily recognizable but almost incurable. Therefore, the representatives should withstand the prince, and not allow the smallest beginning of tyranny to be made. If the prince persists in his tyrannous course and, though often reprimanded, does not reform but attempts to bring matters to the point where he may with no penalty do whatever he pleases, then indeed the crime of tyranny is complete. Thus, whatever might be done against a tyrant through the law or through just resistance, can be done against him. For tyranny is not merely a crime, but the highest crime, and the embodiment of all crimes. The tyrant subverts the commonwealth, pillages everyone and lays snares for their lives, violates any promise, despising the sanctity of a solemn oath. Therefore, he is much more vicious than the ordinary bandit, murderer or oath-breaker, as it is more serious to offend against the many or all than against particular individuals. If these private offences are deemed villainous and are punishable by death, is it possible to devise a penalty worthy of a crime so atrocious as tyranny?
The Duty of Officers to Oppose Tyrants
Moreover, we have already proved that kings receive their royal dignity from the people, that the whole people are greater than and superior to the king, and that the king or emperor is merely the highest minister and agent of the kingdom or empire. It follows that the tyrant commits a felony against the people who are the lord of the land. He is guilty of treason against the kingdom or empire; he is a rebel. He has thus violated the same laws that the ordinary criminal violates and merits far severer punishment. Therefore, as Bartolus says, he may be either deposed by his superior or punished under the Julian law against public violence. The superior is the whole people, or those who represent them—the electors, palatines, patricians, assembly of estates, etc. If the tyranny has proceeded so far that it cannot be destroyed except by armed force, then it is lawful for the representatives to call the people to arms, enroll an army, and employ not only the valiant strength of the nation, but even strategy and deceit, against the enemy of their country. . . . The officers of the kingdom will not thereby incur the charge of sedition. For in sedition, two opposing parties are necessary—one pursuing a just course, the other an unjust course. That party is right which defends the laws, supports the common welfare and preserves the kingdom. That party is wrong which violates laws, or protects violators of law, and defends the destroyers of the country. . . . Whatever tends to the public good is lawful. Thus, Thomas says that since tyrannical government is unjust (being established not for the public good but for the private good of him who rules), consequently its overthrow does not have the nature of sedition. Nor can the officers of the kingdom be charged with the crime of treason. . . .
Everywhere there is between prince and people a mutual and reciprocal obligation: he promises that he will be a good prince; the people promise that if he is such they will obey him. The people are thus obligated to the prince conditionally, he to them absolutely. If the condition is not fulfilled, the people are released, the contract revoked, the obligation ipso jure void. The king is faithless if he governs unjustly; the people are faithless if they neglect to obey him while he rules justly. The people are entirely innocent of the crime of disloyalty if they publicly renounce an unjust ruler or try to overpower by force of arms one who without lawful right attempts to hold the kingdom.
It is not merely permissible to the officers of the kingdom to repress a tyrant; it is obligatory for them as a part of their duty. If they do not fulfill this duty, they can plead no contract as an excuse. The electors, patricians, peers and other nobles should not think that they were instituted to exhibit themselves, clothed in their robes of state, at the coronation of the king, according to the ancient custom. It is not as if they are acting in a Greek interlude, or playing the parts of Roland, Oliver, Renaldo and other stage personages representing the knights of King Arthur's table. Nor after the assembly has been dismissed should they think that they have fulfilled their parts excellently. Such ceremonies are not intended to be executed as a matter of routine, or designed for sport—as in children's games when, as Horace describes, they make a king in play. Instead, these leaders should know that they are called to a place of work as well as of honor, and that the commonwealth is entrusted to the king as its first and principal guardian and to them as co-guardians. Just as other guardians are appointed to observe the acts of him who holds the place of chief guardian, to demand constant accounting of his administration and watch carefully how he fulfills his responsibility; so likewise officers are appointed to watch the king (who is master only in the sense of having the care of a ward), to see that he does nothing to the detriment of the people. The conduct of the principal guardian is assigned to the co-guardians if (when they ought and can) they do not discover his fault, especially where he neglects to communicate the affairs of administration to them, or executes his guardianship faithlessly, or practices deceit, acts selfishly or ruinously for his ward, or seizes anything from the property of the ward. In short, they are held to account if he acts stupidly, indifferently or unskillfully.
In like manner the chief officers are held responsible for the conduct of the king, if they do not suppress tyranny or prevent its appearance, or supplement his inefficiency by their own vigilance and industry. . . . The commonwealth is entrusted as much to their care as to his; their official assignment is not only to serve the public interest through their particular offices, but also to hold the king to his proper function. Both he and they have promised to secure the welfare of the commonwealth. If he violates his oath they are not to imagine that they are thereby absolved from their pledge, any more than are bishops released from their vows if the Pope defends heresy or seeks to destroy the church. The more the king becomes an oath-breaker, the more should the officers consider themselves bound to keep their faith. If they act deceptively, they are to be accounted liars. If they conspire with him, they are deserters and traitors. If they neglect to deliver the commonwealth from tyranny, they are tyrants themselves. On the other hand, if they undertake to save the commonwealth and defend it with all their powers, they are protectors, guardians, and, in a sense, kings themselves.
Source: Stephen Junius Brutus (pseud.), Vindication against Tyrants (Vindiciae Contra Tyrannos, 1579), Question 3, tr. Francis Coker.
Questions for Review
1. In the section “ministers of the king vs. ministers of the kingdom,” what is the difference between these two classes of ministers?
2. In the section “why were kings first established,” what is the origin of kings?
3. In the section “two contracts with the king,” what are the terms of the two contracts?
4. In the section “two types of tyrants,” what are the two kings of tyrants, and what is the difference between them?
5. In the section “identifying a tyrant,” what are the marks of a genuine tyrant, as opposed to a mere weak king?
Questions for Analysis
1. The author argues that the people establish the king through a type of election or vote. Explain the author’s point, and discuss whether this is a realistic or accurate account of a king’s authority.
2. A central line of argument in this work is that the king (and other government officials) are servants of the people. Explain the authors reasoning and discuss whether this is a realistic way of looking at governmental authority.
3. A second major line of argument in this work is that the people have a contract with the king, and if the king violates the contract he can be overthrown. Explain the author’s reasoning and discuss whether the notion of such a contract is an accurate or effective means of establishing governmental authority.
4. The author contrasts kings that are merely weak with kings that are genuine tyrants. Describe the distinction between the two and evaluate what the central difference is.
5. A common contemporary criticism of the author’s view of revolution is that it does not go far enough. That is, the people can revolt only under the guidance of government officials who are defending justice. But the people also need the ability to revolt without the guidance of other government officials. Is this a valid criticism? Explain.
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#10
JUST WAR
Hugo Grotius
Born in Delf, Holland, Hugo Grotius (1583-1645) was a statesman in the Dutch government. Imprisoned for three years for his role in a religious controversy, he dramatically escaped with the help of his wife by hiding in a book case. While taking refuge in France until the Dutch political climate became safer, Grotius wrote his most famous work The Law of War and Peace (1625), from which selections below are taken. The work is an analysis of the justification of wars and international relations as founded on principles of natural law. He begins with an account of natural law, which, he argues, is rooted in our human instinct be sociable and live peacefully among other humans. From this general principle he deduces five more specific principles of natural law: (1) do not take things that belong to others; (2) restore to other people anything that we might have of theirs; (3) fulfill promises; (4) compensate for any loss that results through our own fault; (5) punish people as deserved. These principles of natural law have a rational order to them that cannot be contradicted any more than we can contradict mathematical principles. Thus, even God cannot alter the nature law. Grotius next discusses the just causes for going to war, and the conduct of warfare that we can justly engage in once war begins. He argues that there are three possible just causes for declaring war. First and foremost is defense of life and property, which stems from our natural right of self-defense. Second is reparation for damages inflicted by a rival country. Third is the punishment of a rival country for harm it has inflicted. Regarding just conduct in warfare, he holds to what is now called “the principle of discrimination” that wars should not be unnecessarily cruel, and the lives of innocent people should be protected. He also holds to what we now call “the principle of proportionality” that destruction in war should not extend any further than is necessary to make the aggressor pay for his offence.
NATURAL LAW
Sociability and the Principles of Natural Law
Prolegomena, 6. Man is an animal indeed, but an animal of an excellent kind, differing much more from all other species of animals than they differ from one another, which appears by the evidence of many actions unique to the human species. Among these characteristics which are unique to humans, is a desire for society. That is, it is a desire for a life spent in common with fellow men, but not merely spent in any way. Rather, it is one spent in tranquilly and in a manner corresponding to the character of his intellect. This desire the Stoics called “sociability”, the domestic instinct, or feeling of kindred. Accordingly, we cannot accept the assertion that, by nature, every animal is impelled only to seek its own advantage or good, if it is stated so generally as to include humans.
7. Indeed even in other animals, as well as in humans, their desire of their own individual good is moderated by a consideration, partly for their offspring, partly for others of their own species. Even in animals we see that this desire proceeds from some external intelligent principle. But with other acts that are no more difficult than those [directed towards their offspring and species], we do not see an equal degree of intelligence. The same is to be said of infants in which, prior to any education, we see a certain disposition to do good to others. This is just as Plutarch wisely remarked: “as, for example, compassion spontaneously breaks out at that age.” A grown man has knowledge which enables him to act similarly in similar cases, and along with that, a peculiar and admirable desire for society. He also has language, an instrument of this desire, which is given to him alone among the animals. From this it is reasonable to assume that he has a faculty of knowing and acting according to general principles. The tendencies that correspond with this faculty do not belong to all animals, but are unique attributes of human nature.
8. This tendency to the preservation of society (which we have now roughly expressed) agrees with the nature of human intellect and is the source of law, properly so called. To this law belongs the rules of abstaining from that which belongs to other persons; restoring anything we have in our possession that belongs to another, or of any gain which we have made from it; fulfilling of promises; repairing any damage done by our fault; and recognizing that certain things deserve punishment among men. . . .
God and Natural Law
11. What we have said would still have great weight, even if we were to grant what we cannot grant without wickedness, namely, that there is no God, or that he has no concern for human affairs. We are, though, assured of the contrary of this . . . .
12. Here we are lead to another origin of law, besides its natural source, namely, the free will of God, to which, as our reason irresistibly tells us, we are bound to submit ourselves. But even that natural law of which we have spoken (whether it is that which binds together communities, or that looser kind [which requires duties]) although it proceeds from the internal principles of man, may yet be rightly ascribed to God. This is because it was by his will that such principles came to exist in us. In this sense, Chrysippus and the Stoics said that the origin of law or natural law was not to be found in any other place than in Jove himself, and it may be conjectured that the Latins took the word “jus” [i.e., “law”] from the name Jove.
13. To this we must add that these principles God has made plainer by the [divine] laws which he has given, so that they may be understood by those whose minds have a weaker power of drawing inferences. He has prohibited the perverse deviations of our affections which draw us this way and that, contrary to our own interest and the good of others, thereby putting a bridle upon our more violent passions, controlling and restraining them within due limits.
Natural Law and Reason
Book 1.1.10. Natural law is the dictate of right reason, and it shows the moral impermissibility, or moral necessity, of any act from its agreement or disagreement with a rational nature. Consequently, such an act is either forbidden or commanded by God, the author of nature. The actions upon which such a dictate is given, are either binding or unlawful in themselves, and therefore necessarily understood to be commanded or forbidden by God. This mark distinguishes natural law not only from human law, but also from what some call the voluntary natural law, which God himself has been pleased to reveal. These latter laws do not command or forbid things in themselves as either binding or unlawful, but make them unlawful by its prohibition, and binding by its command. . . .
We must further remark that natural law relates not only to those things that exist independent of the human will, but to many things which necessarily follow the exercise of that will. Thus property, as now in use, was at first a creature of the human will. But, after it was established, one man was prohibited by the law of nature from seizing the property of another against his will. . . .
Now the law of nature is so unalterable, that it cannot be changed even by God himself. For although the power of God is infinite, yet there are some things to which it does not extend. This is because the things so expressed would have no true meaning, but imply a contradiction. Thus two and two must make four, nor is it possible to be otherwise; nor, again, can what is really evil not be evil. . . .
Natural Law Unique to Humans
1.1.11. The distinction found in the books of the Roman Law assigns one unchangeable law to animals in common with man, which in a more limited sense they call the “law of nature”. They designate another to humans, which they frequently call the “law of nations”, although this is hardly of any real use. For no beings, except those that can form general rules, are capable of possessing a law. Hesiod has made this clear stating “that the Supreme Being has appointed laws for men, but permitted wild animals, fishes, and birds to devour each other for food.” For they have nothing like justice, the best gift, given to men. Cicero, in his first book of Offices, says that we do not talk about the justice of horses or lions. Similarly, Plutarch observes in The Life of Cato the Elder that we are formed by nature to use law and justice towards men only. In addition to the above, Lactantius may be cited who, in his fifth book, says that in all animals that lack reason we see a natural bias of self-love. For they hurt others to benefit themselves, and they do so because they do not know the evil of doing willful harm. But it is not so with man, who, possessing the knowledge of good and evil, refrains from doing harm to others, even when it involves an inconvenience to himself. Polybius, relating the manner in which men first entered into society, concludes that the injuries done to parents or benefactors inevitably provoke the indignation of mankind. As an additional reason he states that since understanding and reflection form the major difference between men and other animals, thus it is evident men cannot go beyond the bounds of that difference like other animals, without arousing universal abhorrence of their conduct. But if ever justice is attributed to brutes, it is done improperly, from some shadow and trace of reason they may possess. But it is not essential to the nature of law, whether the actions appointed by the law of nature, such as the care of our offspring, are common to us with other animals or not, or, like the worship of God, are unique to man.
JUST CAUSES FOR WAR
Public and Private wars
1.3.1. The first and most necessary divisions of war are into one kind called private, another public, and another mixed. Now public war is carried on by the person holding the sovereign power. Private war is that which is carried on by private persons without authority from the state. A mixed war is that which is carried on, on one side by public authority, and on the other by private persons. But since private war is the oldest type, it is the first subject for inquiry. . . .
2.1.2. The justifiable causes generally assigned for war are three: defense, reparation, and punishment. All of these are comprised in the declaration of Camillus against the Gauls, which lists all things for which it is right to defend, to recover, and the encroachment on which it is right to punish. . . .
Defense of Life and Property
2.1.3. It has already been proved that when our lives are threatened with immediate danger, it is lawful to kill the aggressor, if the danger cannot otherwise be avoided: a situation, as it has been shown, upon which the justice of private war rests. We must observe that this kind of defense derives its origin from the principle of self-preservation, which nature has given to every living creature, and not from the injustice or misconduct of the aggressor. Accordingly, though he may be free from guilt, as for instance a soldier in actual service, mistaking my person for that of another, or a madman in his frenzy, or a man walking in his sleep, none of these cases deprive me of the right of self-defense against those persons. For I am not bound to submit to the danger or mischief intended, any more than to expose myself to the attacks of a wild animal.
2.1.4. It is doubtful whether those who unintentionally obstruct our defense or escape, which are necessary to our preservation, may be lawfully maimed or killed. There are some, even Theologians, who think they may. Certainly if we look to the law of nature alone, according to its principles, our own preservation should have much more weight with us, than the welfare of society. But the law of charity, especially the evangelical law, which puts our neighbor upon a level with ourselves, does not permit it.
Thomas Aquinas, if properly understood, has justly observed that in actual self-defense no man can be said to be purposely killed. Indeed, it may sometimes happen that there is no other way for a person to save himself, than by intentionally doing an act, by which the death of an aggressor must inevitably ensue. Yet here the death of anyone was not the primary object intended, but employed as the only means of security, which the moment supplied. Still, it is better for the party assaulted, if he can safely do it, to repel or disable the aggressor than to shed his blood.
2.1.5. The danger must be immediate, which is one necessary point. Though it must be confessed, that when an assailant seizes any weapon with an apparent intention to kill me, I have a right to anticipate and prevent the danger. For in the moral as well as the natural system of things, there is no point without some leeway. But they are themselves much mistaken, and mislead others, who maintain that any degree of fear ought to be a ground for killing another, to prevent his supposed intention. It is a very just observation made by Cicero in his first book of Offices, that many wrongs proceed from fear; as when the person, who intends to hurt another, apprehends some danger to himself unless he took that method. Clearchus, in Xenophon, says, I have known some men, who partly through misrepresentation, and partly through suspicion, dreading one another, in order to prevent the supposed intentions of their adversaries, have committed the most enormous cruelties against those who neither designed, nor wished them any harm....
2.1.11. The next object to be considered relates to damage affecting our property. In strict justice, it cannot be denied that we have a right to kill a robber, if such a step is inevitably necessary to the preservation of our property. For the difference between the value of life and property is overbalanced by the horror which a robber excites, and by the favorable inclination felt by all men towards the injured and innocent. From this it follows that, regarding that right alone, a robber may be wounded or killed in his flight with the property, if it cannot otherwise be recovered. Demosthenes in his speech against Aristocrates, exclaims, “By all that is sacred, is it not a dreadful and open violation of law, not only of written law, but of that law which is the unwritten rule of all men, to be debarred from the right of using force against the robber as well as against the enemy; who is plundering your property?” Nor is it forbidden by the precepts of charity, apart from all consideration of divine and human law, unless where the property is of little value, and beneath notice; an exception, which some writers have very properly added. ...
2.1.16. What has been already said of the right of defending our persons and property, though regarding chiefly private war, may nevertheless be applied to public hostilities, allowing for the difference of circumstances. For private war may be considered as an instantaneous exercise of natural right, which ceases the moment that legal redress can be obtained. Now as public war can never take place, but where judicial remedies cease to exist, it is often lengthened, and the spirit of hostility inflamed by the continued increase of losses and injuries. Besides, private war extends only to self-defense, whereas sovereign powers have a right not only to prevent, but to punish wrongs. From this they are authorized to prevent a remote as well as an immediate aggression. Though the suspicion of hostile intentions, on the part of another power, may not justify the start of actual war, yet it calls for measures of armed prevention, and will authorize indirect hostility. ...
Reparation for Damages
2.17.1. The next point to which we proceed is an inquiry into the rights resulting to us from injuries that we receive. Here the name of crime or misdemeanor is applied to every act of commission or neglect contrary to the duties required of all men, either from their common nature or particular calling. For such offences naturally create an obligation to repair the loss or injury that has been sustained. . . .
2.17.4. The loss or reduction of anyone’s possessions is not confined to injuries done to the substance alone of the property, but includes everything affecting the production of it, whether it has been gathered or not. If the owner himself had produced it, the necessary expense of production, or of improving the property to raise a product, must also be taken into the account of his loss, and form part of the damages. For it is an established principle that no one ought to derive benefit from the loss of another.
2.17.5. Damages are to be computed too, not according to any actual gain, but according to the reasonable expectation of it. In the case of a growing crop, this may be judged by the general abundance or scarcity of that particular season. . . .
2.17.19. But to connect the preceding cases and arguments with public and national concerns, an observation is necessary to observe. It is a principle introduced and established by the consent of all nations that only those wars that are declared and conducted by the authority of the sovereign power on both sides are entitled to the name of “just wars”. The enemy has no right to demand restitution for what the prosecution of such wars has reduced him to abandon through fear. It is upon this principle we accept the distinction which Cicero has made between an enemy, towards whom the consent and law of nations oblige us to observe many common rights, and between robbers and pirates. For anything given up to pirates or robbers through fear is no lawful prize, but, instead, it may be recovered, unless a solemn oath of renunciation has been taken. This is not the case with the things seized in just war. . . .
2.17.20. Sovereign Princes and States are answerable for their neglect, if they fail to use all the proper means within their power for suppressing piracy and robbery. On this account the Scyrians were formerly condemned by the Amphictyonic council.
Punishment
2.20.38. It has been shown before, and it is a truth founded upon historical fact, that wars are undertaken as acts of punishment. This motive, added to that of redress for injuries, is the source from which the duties of nations arise relating to war. But it is not every injury that can be translated into a just ground of war. For laws, whose vengeance is meant to protect the innocent and to fall upon the guilty, do not regard every case as a sufficient warrant for their exertion. Thus, that there is much truth in the opinion of Sopater, who says that there are trivial and common offences, which it is better to pass over unnoticed than to punish.
2.20.39. In his speech in defense of the Rhodians, Cato laid down the principle that it is not right that anyone should be punished upon the mere suspicion of his having intended to commit aggression or injury. This was well applied in that situation, since no clear order of the people of Rhodes could be alleged against them, nor was there any other proof beyond the conjecture of their wavering in their policy. But this principle is not universally true.
For where intention has proceeded to any outward and visible signs of insatiable ambition and injustice, it is deemed a proper object of resentment, and even of punishment. Upon this principle, the Romans (as may be seen from Livy’s account) . . . thought themselves justified in declaring war against Perseus, King of Macedon, unless he gave satisfactory proof, that he had no hostile intentions against them, in the naval and military armaments, which he was preparing. We are informed by the same historians, that the Rhodians urged it as a rule established by the laws and customs of all civilized states; that if anyone wished the destruction of an enemy, he could not punish him with death, unless he had actually done something to deserve it.
Unjust Wars
2.37.2. There are some who have neither apparent reasons, nor just causes to plead for their hostilities, in which, as Tacitus says, they engage from the pure love of enterprise and danger. Aristotle gives this disposition the name of ferocity, and in the last book of his Nicomachaean Ethics, he calls it a horrible cruelty to convert friends into enemies, whom you may slaughter.
2.37.3. Most powers, when engaging in war, are desirous to color over their real motives with justifiable pretexts. Yet some, totally disregarding such methods of excuse, seem able to give no better reason for their conduct than the story told by the Roman Lawyers. A robber was asked what right he had to a thing that he had seized; he replied that it was his own because he had taken it into his possession. Aristotle in the third book of his Rhetoric, speaking of the promoters of war, asks, if it is not unjust for a neighboring people to be enslaved, and if those promoters have no regard to the rights of unoffending nations? Cicero, in the first book of his Offices, speaks in the same strain, and calls “the courage, which is conspicuous in danger and enterprise, if devoid of justice, absolutely undeserving of the name of valor. It should rather be considered as a brutal fierceness outraging every principle of humanity.”
2.22.4. Others make use of pretexts, which though plausible at first sight, will not bear the examination and test of moral rightness, and, when stripped of their disguise, such pretexts will be found filled with injustice. In such hostilities, says Livy it is not a trial of right, but some object of secret and unruly ambition, which acts as the chief spring. Plutarch said that most powers use the relative situations of peace and war as a currency to purchase whatever they deem useful.
By having before examined and established the principles of just and necessary war, we may form a better idea of what constitutes the injustice of war. As the nature of things is best seen by contrast, and we judge what is crooked by comparing it with what is straight. But for the sake of clarity, it will be necessary to consider main points.
It was shown above that fear of a neighboring power is not a sufficient ground for war. For, to authorize hostilities as a defensive measure, they must arise from the necessity which just fear creates. This involves fear not only of the power, but of the intentions of a formidable state, and a fear that amounts to a moral certainty. For this reason, we cannot approve of those who say that there are just grounds for war when a neighboring country constructs fortifications which may at some future time prove a means of trouble, while, at the same time, there is no existing treaty to prohibit such constructions, or their securing of a strong hold. . . .
JUST CONDUCT IN WAR
The Just Means and Ends of War
3.1.1. In the preceding books we considered by what persons, and for what causes, war may be justly declared and undertaken. This subject necessarily leads to an inquiry into the circumstances under which war may be undertaken, into the extent, to which it may be carried, and into the manner in which its rights may be enforced. Now all these matters may be viewed in the light of privileges resulting simply from the law of nature and of nations, or as the effects of some prior treaty or promise. But the actions which are authorized by the law of nature are those that first require attention.
3.1.2. In the first place, as it has occasionally been observed, the means employed in the pursuit of any object must, in a great degree, derive the complexion of their moral character from the nature of the end to which they lead. It is evident therefore that we may justly use those means, provided they be lawful, which are necessary to the attainment of any right. Right in this place means what is strictly so called, signifying the moral power of action, which anyone as a member of society possesses. On this account, a person, if he has no other means of saving his life, is justified in using any forcible means of repelling an attack, though he who makes it, as for instance, a soldier in battle, in doing so, is guilty of no crime. For this is a right resulting not properly from the crime of another, but from the privilege of self-defense, which nature grants to everyone. Besides, if anyone has sure and undoubted grounds to apprehend imminent danger from anything belonging to another, he may seize it without any regard to the guilt or innocence of that owner. Yet he does not by that seizure become the proprietor of it. For that is not necessary to the end he has in view. He may detain it as a precautionary measure, until he can obtain satisfactory assurance of security.
Discrimination
3.11.1. Cicero, in the first book of his Offices, has accurately observed, that “some duties are to be observed even towards those, from whom you have received an injury. For even vengeance and punishment have their due bounds.” And at the same time he praises those ancient periods in the Roman government when the events of war were mild, and marked with no unnecessary cruelty. . . .
3.11.8. Though there may be circumstances in which absolute justice will not condemn the sacrifice of lives in war, yet humanity will require that the greatest precaution should be used against involving the innocent in danger, except in cases of extreme urgency and utility.
3.11.9. After establishing these general principles, it will not be difficult to decide upon particular cases. Seneca says that “in the calamities of war children are exempted and spared, on the score of their age, and women from respect to their sex.” In the wars of the Hebrews, even after the offers of peace have been rejected, God commands the women and children to be spared. . . .
3.11.10. The same rule may be laid down too with respect to males, whose ways of life are entirely removed from the use of arms. In the first class of this description may be placed the ministers of religion, who, among all nations, from times of the most remote antiquity have been exempted from bearing arms. . . . In addition to these, there are those who devote their labor to honorable literary studies that are useful to mankind.
3.11.11. The catalogue of those exempt also includes farmers. Diodorus praises the Indians, who, in all their wars with each other, refrained from destroying or even hurting those employed in agriculture, as being the common benefactors of all. Plutarch relates the same of the ancient Corinthians and Megarensians, and Cyrus sent a message to the king of Assyria to inform him that he was willing to avoid molesting all who were employed in tilling the ground.
3.11.12. To the above catalogue of those exempted from sharing in the calamities of war, may be added merchants, not only those residing for a time in the enemy’s country, but even his natural-born, and regular subjects. Artisans too, and all others are included, whose subsistence depends upon cultivating the arts of peace.
3.11.13. More civilized manners have abolished the barbarous practice of putting prisoners to death. For the same reason, one should not reject the surrender of those who do so for the preservation of their lives, either in battle or in a siege.
Proportionality
3.12.1. One of the three following cases is required to justify anyone in destroying what belongs to another. (1) There must be either such a necessity, where an exemption is formed as must be supposed upon the original institution of property. For example, someone throw the sword of another into a river to prevent a madman from using it to his destruction. Still, he will be required to repair the loss, according to the true principles maintained in a former part of this work. (2) Or there must be some debt arising from the non-performance of an engagement, where the thing destroyed is considered as a repayment for that debt. (3) Or there must have been some aggressions for which such destruction does not go beyond the punishment deserved.
Now, if someone drives off some of our cattle, or burns a few of our houses, this can never be appealed to as a sufficient and justifiable motive for destroying the entirety of an enemy’s kingdom. Polybius saw this in its proper light, observing, that vengeance in war should not be carried to its extreme, nor extend any further than was necessary to make an aggressor justly make amends for his offence. It is upon these motives, and within these limits alone, that punishment can be inflicted. It is foolish, and even worse than foolish, to needlessly hurt another, except where prompted to it by motives of great utility.
But upon properly and impartially weighing the matter, such acts are more often regarded in a detestable light, rather than considered as the dictates of careful and necessary guidance. For the most urgent and justifiable motives are seldom of long continuation, and are often succeeded by weightier motives of a more humane type.
Source: Hugo Grotius, The Law of War and Peace (1625), translated by William Whewell (Prolegomena), Archibald C. Campbell (Books 1-3).
Questions for Review
1. According to Grotius, what is the highest principle of natural law and the five more specific ones?
2. In the section on defense of life and property, why, according to Grotius, is killing in self defense not done on purpose?
3. In the same section, what does Grotius say about attacking a country out of fear?
4. In the section on unjust wars, what does Grotius say about pretexts that countries commonly offer for going to war?
5. In the section on discrimination, which types of people should be protected during wars?
6. In the section on proportionality, what are the only three justifications for destroying property in war?
Questions for Analysis
1. Grotius argues that even if God didn’t exist, natural law would still be valid, and, assuming that God exists, God himself cannot change natural law. Explain his point and whether or not you agree.
2. Grotius grounds the justification of public war upon the natural rights that we have to declare private war. Do these two types of war sufficiently parallel each other as he implies, or are they instead distinct?
2. Grotius writes that “most powers, when engaging in war, are desirous to color over their real motives with justifiable pretexts.” Is it possible for someone to distinguish between the real motives and the justifiable pretexts?”
4. Regarding proportionality, Grotius writes “if someone drives off some of our cattle, or burns a few of our houses, this can never be appealed to as a sufficient and justifiable motive for destroying the entirety of an enemy’s kingdom.” What would be modern equivalents of this, and do you agree that it is unjustifiable.