20. CHAPTER XX
OF DEMOCRACY AS CONNECTED WITH THE TRANSACTIONS OF WAR
Having thus endeavoured to reduce the question of war to its true principles,
it is time that we should recur to the maxim delivered at our entrance upon
this subject, that individuals are everything, and society, abstracted from
the individuals of which it is composed, nothing. An immediate consequence
of this maxim is that the internal affairs of the society are entitled to
our principal attention, and the external are matters of inferior and subordinate
consideration. The internal affairs are subjects of perpetual and hourly
concern, the external are periodical and precarious only. That every man
should be impressed with the consciousness of his independence, and rescued
from the influence of extreme want and artificial desires, are purposes the
most interesting that can suggest themselves to the human mind; but the life
of man might pass in a state uncorrupted by ideal passions without its tranquillity
being so much as once disturbed by foreign invasions. The influence that
a certain number of millions' born under the same climate with ourselves,
and known by the common appellation of English or French, shall possess over
the administrative councils of their neighbour millions, is a circumstance
of much too airy and distant consideration to deserve to be made a principal
object in the institutions of any people. The best influence we can exert
is that of a sage and upright example.
If therefore it should appear that of these two articles internal and
external affairs, one must, in some degree, be sacrificed to the other, and
that a democracy will, in certain respects, be less fitted for the affairs
of war than some other species of government, good sense will not hesitate
in the alternative. We shall have sufficient reason to be satisfied if, together
with the benefits of justice and virtue at home, we have no reason to despair
of our safety from abroad. A confidence in this article will seldom deceive
us if our countrymen, however little trained to formal rules, and the uniformity
of mechanism, have studied the profession of man, understand his attributes
and his nature, and have their necks unbroken to the yoke of blind credulity
and abject submission. Such men, inured, as we are now supposing them, to
a rational state of society, will be full of calm confidence and penetrating
activity, and these qualities will stand them in stead of a thousand lessons
in the school of military mechanism. if democracy can be proved adequate
to wars of defence, and other governments be better fitted for wars of a
different sort, this would be an argument, not of its imperfection, but its
merit.
It has been one of the objections to the ability of a democracy in war
'that it cannot keep secrets. The legislative assembly, whether it possess
the initiative, or a power of control only, in executive affairs, will be
perpetually calling for papers, plans and information, cross-examining ministers,
and sifting the policy and justice of public undertakings. How shall we be
able to cope with an enemy, if he know precisely the points we mean to attack,
the state of our fortifications, and the strength and weakness of our armies?
How shall we manage our treaties with skill and address, if he be precisely
informed of our sentiments, and have access to the instructions of our ambassadors?'
It happens in this instance that that which the objection attacks as the
vice of democracy is one of its most essential excellencies. The trick of
a mysterious carriage is the prolific parent of every vice; and it is an
eminent advantage incident to democracy that, though the proclivity of the
human mind has hitherto reconciled this species of administration, in some
degree, to the keeping of secrets, its inherent tendency is to annihilate
them. Why should disingenuity and concealment be thought virtuous or beneficial
on the part of nations in cases where they would inevitably be discarded
with contempt by an upright individual? Where is there an ingenuous and enlightened
man who is not aware of the superior advantage that belongs to a proceeding,
frank, explicit and direct? Who is there that sees not that this inextricable
labyrinth of reasons of state was artfully invented, lest the people should
understand their own affairs, and, understanding, become inclined to conduct
them? With respect to treaties, it is to be suspected that they are, in all
instances, superfluous. But, if public engagements ought to be entered into,
what essential difference is there between the governments of two countries
endeavouring to overreach each other, and the buyer and seller in any private
transaction adopting a similar proceeding?
This whole system proceeds upon the idea of national grandeur and glory,
as if, in reality, these words had any specific meaning. These contemptible
objects, these airy names, have, from the earliest page of history, been
made a colour for the most pernicious undertakings. Let us take a specimen
of their value from the most innocent and laudable pursuits. If I aspire
to be a great poet or a great historian, so far as I am influenced by the
dictates of reason, it is that I may be useful to mankind, and not that I
may do honour to my country. Is Newton the better because he was an Englishman;
or Galileo the worse because he was an Italian? Who can endure to put this
high-sounding nonsense in the balance against the best interests of mankind,
which will always suffer a mortal wound when dexterity, artifice and concealment
are made the topics of admiration and applause? The understanding and the
virtues of mankind will always keep pace with the manly simplicity of their
designs, and the undisguised integrity of their hearts.
It has further been objected to a democratical state, in its transactions
with foreign powers, 'that it is incapable of those rapid and decisive proceedings
which, in some situations, have so eminent a tendency to ensure success'.
If by this objection it be understood that a. democratical state is ill fitted
for dexterity and surprise, the rapidity of an assassin, it has already received
a sufficient answer. If it be meant that the regularity of its proceedings
may ill accord with the impatience of a neighbouring despot, and, like the
Jews of old, we desire a king 'that we may be like the other nations', this
is a very unreasonable requisition. A just and impartial enquirer will be
little desirous to see his country placed high in the diplomatical roll,
deeply involved in the intrigues of nations, and assiduously courted by foreign
princes, as the instrument of their purposes. A more groundless and absurd
passion cannot seize upon any people than that of glory, the preferring their
influence in the affairs of the globe to their internal happiness and virtue;
for these objects will perpetually counteract and clash with each other.
But democracy is by no means necessarily of a phlegmatic character, or
obliged to take every proposition that is made to it, ad referendum, for
the consideration of certain primary assemblies, like the states of Holland.
The first principle in the institution of government itself is the necessity,
under the present imperfections of mankind, of having some man, or body of
men, to act on the part of the whole. Wherever government subsists, the authority
of the individual must be, in some degree, superseded. It does not therefore
seem unreasonable for a representative national assembly to exercise, in
certain cases, a discretionary power. Those privileges which are vested in
individuals selected out of the mass by the voice of their fellows, and who
will speedily return to a private station, are by no means liable to the
same objections as the executive and unsympathetic privileges of an aristocracy.
Representation, together with many disadvantages, has this benefit, that
it is able, impartially, and with discernment, to call upon the most enlightened
part of the nation to deliberate for the whole, and may thus generate a degree
of wisdom, and a refined penetration of sentiment, which it would have been
unreasonable to expect as the result of primary assemblies.
A third objection more frequently offered against democratical government
is 'that it is incapable of that mature and deliberate proceeding, which
is alone suitable to the decision of such important concerns. Multitudes
of men have appeared subject to fits of occasional insanity: they act from
the influence of rage, suspicion and despair: they are liable to be hurried
into the most unjustifiable extremes, by the artful practices of an impostor.'
One of the most obvious answers to this objection is that for all men to
share the privileges of all is the law of our nature, and the dictate of
justice. The case, in this instance, is parallel to that of an individual
in his private concerns. It is true that, while each man is master of his
own affairs, he is liable to the starts of passion. He is attacked by the
allurements of temptation and the tempest of rage, and may be guilty of fatal
error, before reflection and judgment come forward to his aid. But this is
no sufficient reason for depriving men of the direction of their own concerns.
We should endeavour to make them wise, not to make them slaves. The depriving
men of their self government is, in the first place, unjust, while, in the
second, this self-government, imperfect as it is, will be found more salutary
than anything that can be substituted in its place. — Another answer to
this objection will occur in the concluding chapters of the present book.