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Claim Made by M. Considérant and F. Bastiat’s Reply - Frédéric Bastiat, Collected Works of Bastiat. Vol. 2: The Law, The State, and Other Political Writings, 1843-1850 [2012]Edition used:The Collected Works of Frédéric Bastiat. Vol. 2: The Law, The State, and Other Political Writings, 1843-1850, Jacques de Guenin, General Editor. Translated from the French by Jane Willems and Michel Willems, with an introduction by Pascal Salin. Annotations and Glossaries by Jacques de Guenin, Jean-Claude Paul-Dejean, and David M. Hart. Translation Editor Dennis O’Keeffe. Academic Editor, David M. Hart (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2012).
Part of: The Collected Works of Frédéric Bastiat, in 6 Vols.About Liberty Fund:Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals. Copyright information:The copyright to this edition, in both print and electronic forms, is held by Liberty Fund, Inc. Fair use statement:This material is put online to further the educational goals of Liberty Fund, Inc. Unless otherwise stated in the Copyright Information section above, this material may be used freely for educational and academic purposes. It may not be used in any way for profit.
The six-volume Collected Works of Frédéric Bastiat will be the most complete compilation of Bastiat’s works published to date, in any country or in any language. The main source for the translation is the Œuvres complètes de Frédéric Bastiat, published by Guillaumin in the 1850s and 1860s.1 In addition, we have made available two online sources for the reader to consult. The first source is a table of contents of the seven-volume Œuvres complètes and links to PDF (Portable Document Format) facsimiles of each volume. The second source is our “Comparative Table of Contents of the Collected Works of Frédéric Bastiat,” which is a table of contents of the complete Liberty Fund series.2 Here, the reader can find the location of the English translation of the work in its future Liberty Fund volume. These contents will be filled in and updated as the volumes are published and will eventually be the most complete comparative listing of Bastiat’s works. The first edition of the Œuvres complètes appeared in 1854–55, consisting of six volumes.1 The second edition, which appeared in 1862–64, was an almost identical reprint of the first edition (with only minor typesetting differences) but was notable for the addition of a new, seventh volume, which contained additional essays, sketches, and correspondence.2 The second edition also contained a preface by Prosper Paillottet and a biographical essay on Bastiat by Roger de Fontenay (“Notice sur la vie et les écrits de Frédéric Bastiat”), both of which were absent in the first edition. Claim Made by M. Considérant and F. Bastiat’s ReplyPublished by Le Journal des débats in its issue dated28 July 1848. Sir,In the serious discussions to come on the social question, I am determined to prevent the public from being given, as coming from me, opinions that are not mine, and to prevent my opinions being presented in a way that distorts and disfigures them. I have not defended the principle of property for twenty years against the followers of Saint-Simon who denied the right of inheritance, against the disciples of Babeuf and Owen, and against all the varieties of communism, to let myself be depicted as being in the ranks of those who oppose the rights of property, whose logical legitimacy I believe I have established on foundations that are difficult to undermine. I have not fought in the Luxembourg Palace against the doctrines of M. Louis Blanc, I have not on numerous occasions been attacked by M. Proudhon as one of the fiercest defenders of property only to allow M. Bastiat to paint me in your columns as forming, with these two socialists, a sort of triumvirate against property, without my protesting. Besides, since I do not wish to be obliged to claim your indulgence in inserting lengthy tracts of my prose in your columns, and you doubtless agree with me in this, I am asking your permission to make a few observations to M. Bastiat before he goes any further, which will cut short the replies that he may oblige me to give him and perhaps even to eliminate them completely. 1. I would not like M. Bastiat, even when he thinks he is analyzing my thought accurately, to use, in inverted commas and as though quoting textually from my pamphlet on the right of property and the right to work or any other of my writings, phrases of his own that, especially in the penultimate of the quotations he attributes to me, convey my ideas inaccurately. This is not a proper way to proceed, and it may even lead the person who uses it much further than he himself would wish. Abbreviate and analyze as you wish, that is your right, but do not give your analytical abbreviation the character of a verbatim quotation. 2. M. Bastiat says: “They (the three socialists among whom I am included) appear to think that in the combat that is about to take place, the poor have an interest in the triumph of the right to work and the rich in defending the right of property.” For my part, I do not believe and do not even believe that I appear to believe anything of the sort. On the contrary, I believe that the rich now have a more serious interest than the poor in the recognition of the right to work. This is the thought that dominates my entire article, published for the first time not today, but ten years ago, and written to give the men in government and landowners a salutary warning and at the same time defend property against the redoubtable logic of its opponents. Moreover, I believe that the right of property is just as much in the interests of the poor as of the rich, since I regard the denial of this right as a denial of the principle of individuality and would consider its elimination, in whatever form of society, to be the signal for a return to the primitive state, which to my knowledge I have never shown myself to favor. 3. Last, M. Bastiat says: “Besides, I have no intention of examining M. Considérant’s theory in detail. . . . I wish only to attack what is weighty and consequential at the basis of this theory, that is to say, the question of rent. M. Considérant’s theory can be summarized thus. An agricultural product exists through the combination of two actions: the action by a man, or labor, which generates the right of property; and the action of nature, which ought to be free and which landowners turn unjustly to their advantage. This is what constitutes the usurpation of the rights of humanity.” I ask a thousand pardons of M. Bastiat, but there is not one word in my pamphlet that authorizes him to attribute to me the opinions that he so freely does here. As a rule I do not hide my thought, and when I think it is midday it is not my habit to say it is two o’clock. Therefore, let M. Bastiat, if he wishes to do me the honor of disparaging my pamphlet, oppose what I have written and not what he attributes to me. I have not written one word against rent; the question of rent, with which I am as familiar as everyone, does not appear at all in any shape or form, and when M. Bastiat quotes me as saying “that the action of nature ought to be free and that landowners turn it unjustly to their advantage and that is what, according to me, constitutes the usurpation of the rights of the human race,” he again remains stuck in a domain of thought that I have not referred to in the slightest. He is attributing to me an opinion that I consider to be absurd and that is even diametrically opposed to the entire doctrine of my article. I am not complaining at all, in fact, that landowners enjoy the action of nature, what I am asking for, in the name of those who do not enjoy this, is the right to work that will enable them to be able, alongside landowners, to create products and to live by working, when property (whether agricultural or industrial) fails to give them the means to do so. Besides, sir, I have no intention of indulging in a debate on my opinions with M. Bastiat in your columns. This is a favor and an honor not reserved to me. Let M. Bastiat therefore reduce my system to dust and ruin; I will think myself entitled to claim your hospitality for my comments only when, through a lack of understanding, he attributes to me doctrines for which I am not responsible. I am well aware that it is oft en easy to bring down people by attributing to them what you want instead of what they have said, and in particular one is more readily right when opposing socialists when one opposes them in a confused way and in general than when one takes each one to task for what he has put forward. But, whether right or wrong, I for my part insist on taking responsibility for no one other than myself. M. Editor, the discussion that M. Bastiat has undertaken in your columns bears on subjects that are too sensitive and weighty for you not to be in agreement with me on this at least. I am confident therefore that you will agree that I am right to be upset and that you will in fairness give my complaint a clear and legible place in your columns. V. Considérant Paris, 24 July 1848 M. Considérant is complaining that I have altered or distorted his opinion on property. If I have committed this fault I have done so involuntarily, and I can do no more in reparation than to quote his words. After having established that there are two sorts of rights—natural rights, which express the relationships resulting from the very nature of beings or things, and conventional or legal rights, which exist only to regulate false relationships—M. Considérant continues thus: “This having been said, we will say clearly that property as it has generally been constituted in all the hardworking nations up to now, is tarnished by illegitimacy and is contrary to right. . . . The human race has been placed on earth to live and develop there. The species is thus a usufructuary of the surface of the globe. . .. “However, under the regime that constitutes property in all civilized nations, the common basis on which the species has right of usufruct has been invaded. It has been confiscated by the minority to the exclusion of the majority. Well then! If there were in fact one single man deprived of his right to a usufruct of the common fund by the nature of the regime of property, this deprivation on its own would constitute an infringement of rights, and the regime of property that endorsed it would certainly be unjust and illegitimate. “Might not any man who was born into a civilized society with no possessions and who found the land around him confiscated say to those who preached respect for the existing regime of property by affirming the respect due to the rights of property, “My friends, let us understand one another and set things straight a little; I am much in favor of the rights of property and very ready to respect it with regard to others, on the sole condition that others respect it with regard to me. However, as a member of the human race, I am entitled to a usufruct of the fund that is the common property of the race and that nature, as far as I know, has not given to some to the detriment of others. In virtue of the regime of property that I found established on my arrival here, the common fund has been confiscated and is well guarded. Your regime of property is therefore founded on the plunder of my right to a usufruct. Do not confuse the right of property with the particular regime of property that I find is established by your artificial right. “The current regime of property is therefore illegitimate and is based on fundamental plunder.” M. Considérant finally manages to set out the fundamental principle of the right of property in these terms: “Every man possesses the thing that his work, intelligence, or more generally his activity has created.” To show the extent of this principle, Considérant gives the example of the first generation of men who farm an isolated island. The results of the work of this generation are divided into two categories. “The first includes the products of the land that belonged to this first generation as usufructuaries, and that were increased, refined, or manufactured by its work and industry. These products, in their raw state or manufactured, consist either of consumer products or instruments of work. It is clear that these products belong in total and legitimate property to those who have created them through their activity. . . . “Not only has this generation created the products we have just designated . . . but it has also created added value to the original value of the land through cultivation, the buildings, and all the basic and construction work it has carried out. “This added value obviously constitutes a product, a value due to the activity of the first generation.” M. Considérant acknowledges that this secondary value is also a legitimate property. Then he adds: “We can thus totally accept that, when the second generation comes onto the scene, it will find two types of capital on the earth: “A. The original or natural capital, which has not been created by the men of the first generation, that is to say, the value of the land in its natural state. “B. The capital created by the first generation, which includes 1. the products, goods, and instruments that have not been consumed and worn out by the first generation; 2. the added value that the work done by the first generation has added to the value of the land in its natural state. “It is thus obvious and results clearly and essentially from the fundamental principle of the right of property established just now, that each individual of the second generation has an equal right to the original or natural capital, whereas he has no right to the other form of capital, the capital created by the first generation. Each individual of this first generation can thus dispose of his part of the created capital in favor of the particular individuals of the second generation of his choice, his children, friends, etc.” Thus, in this second generation, there are two types of individuals, those who inherit created capital and those who do not. There are also two types of capital, original or natural capital and created capital. The latter legitimately belongs to the heirs but the former legitimately belongs to everyone. Each individual of the second generation has an equal right to the original capital. Well, it has happened that the heirs to created capital have also seized the capital not created; they have invaded it, usurped it, and confiscated it. This is why and how the current regime of property is illegitimate, contrary to right and based on a fundamental plunder. I may certainly be mistaken, but it seems to me that this doctrine exactly echoes, though in other terms, the doctrine of Buchanan, McCulloch, and Senior on rent. They too acknowledged the legitimate ownership of what has been created by work. However, they regard as illegitimate the usurpation of that which M. Considérant calls the value of the land in its natural state and what they call the productive force of the land. Let us now see how this injustice can be put right. “Primitive men in forests and savannahs enjoy four natural rights: hunting, fishing, the gathering of fruit, and grazing. That is the initial form taken by rights. “In all civilized forms of society, men of the people, the working classes who inherit nothing and who own nothing, are purely and simply deprived of these rights. We thus cannot say that the initial right has changed its form here, since it no longer exists. The form has disappeared along with the substance. “But under what form might the right be reconciled with the conditions of a hardworking society? The answer is easy. In primitive forms of society, in order to make use of his rights, man is obliged to act. The work of hunting, fishing, gathering fruit, and grazing is the condition governing the exercise of his rights. The initial right is thus only the right to these forms of work. “Well then! Let a hardworking society that has taken possession of the land and removed from men their faculty of exercising their four rights at random and freely over the surface of the land, recognize the right to work of each individual in compensation for these rights that it has taken away from him. Then, in principle and subject to proper application, no individual would have anything to complain about. In effect, his initial right was the right to work exercised in what was the poor workshop constituted by nature in its natural state. His current right would be the same right exercised in a better equipped and richer workshop in which individual activity has to be more productive. “The condition sine qua non for property to be legitimate is thus that society should recognize the right to work of the proletariat and that it should ensure that it has at least as much of the means of subsistence for the exercise of a given activity as this exercise would have procured for it in the natural state.” Now I leave the reader to judge whether I have changed or distorted M. Considérant’s opinions. M. Considérant considers himself to be a fierce defender of the right to property. Doubtless he is defending this right as he understands it, but he understands it in his own way and the question is to establish whether it is the right way. In any case, it is not the way of everybody. He himself says that, although it needed only a modicum of good sense to settle the question of property, it has never been properly understood. I am fully allowed not to agree with this condemnation of human intelligence. It is not only the theory that M. Considérant is accusing. I would yield it to him, thinking like him that in this matter as in many others, it has oft en been on the wrong track. However, he also attacks the universal practice. He says clearly: “Property, as generally constituted in all hardworking nations up to the present, is tarnished with illegitimacy and sins spectacularly against rights.” If, therefore, M. Considérant is a fierce defender of property, it is at least of a mode of property that is different from the one recognized and practiced by men since the dawn of time. I am fully convinced that M. Louis Blanc and M. Proudhon also claim to defend property as they understand it. I myself have no other pretension than to give an explanation of property that I believe to be true but that is perhaps false. I believe that the ownership of land, as it is formed naturally, is always the fruit of work, that consequently it is based on the very principle established by M. Considérant, that it does not exclude the working classes from enjoying the usufruct of the land in its natural state but on the contrary it multiplies ten and a hundredfold this usufruct for them and thus is not tarnished with illegitimacy, and that all that undermines it in fact and in belief is as great a calamity for those who do not possess the land as for those who do. This is what I would like to devote myself to proving, to the extent that this can be done in the columns of a journal. F. Bastiat 11Baccalaureate and Socialism1[vol. 4, p. 442. “Baccalaureate et socialisme.” 1850. This article was written in early 1850 for a parliamentary commission looking into the question of the freedom of education. n.p.] Citizen Representatives I have submitted an amendment to the Assembly the object of which is to eliminate university degrees.2 My health does not allow me to develop it from the rostrum. Allow me to have recourse to the pen.3 The question is extremely serious. As faulty as the law drawn up by your commission is, I believe that it would mark a signal improvement on the current condition of state education if it were amended as I propose. University degrees have the triple disadvantage of making teaching uniform (uniformity is not unity) and of freezing it after having imprinted it with the most disastrous orientation. If there is anything in the world that is progressive by nature it is teaching. What is it, in fact, other than the transmission from generation to generation of the knowledge acquired by society, that is to say, a treasure that is relieved of its dross and increased every day? How has it happened that teaching in France has remained uniform and stationary in medieval obscurity? Because it has been monopolized and enclosed by university degrees in an impassable circle. There was a time when, to acquire any sort of knowledge, it was as necessary to learn Latin and Greek as it is for people in the Basque and lower Brittany regions to begin by learning French. Living languages had not been settled, printing had not been discovered, and the human spirit had not applied itself to penetrating the secrets of nature. To be educated was to know what Epicurus and Aristotle thought. In the higher ranks, people boasted that they could not read. One single class possessed and imparted education, the clergy. What could this education be like under these circumstances? Obviously it had to be limited to a knowledge of the dead languages, principally Latin. There were only Latin books; people wrote only in Latin; Latin was the language of religion, and the clergy could teach only what they themselves had learned, Latin. We can understand, therefore, that in the Middle Ages teaching was limited to the study of the dead languages, most improperly called scholarly. Is it natural, is it right that this should be so in the nineteenth century? Is Latin an essential instrument for the acquisition of knowledge? Is it in the writings left to us by the Romans that we can learn about religion, physics, chemistry, astronomy, physiology, history, law, morality, industrial technology, or social science? To know a language, like knowing how to read, is to possess an instrument. And is it not strange that we should spend our entire youth mastering an instrument that is no longer any use, or very little use, since there is nothing we are more in a hurry to do, once we have begun to know it, than to forget it? Alas, why can we not forget the impressions left on us by this disastrous study just as quickly? What would we say if, at Saint-Cyr, while initiating our young people into modern military science, we taught them only to throw stones with a sling? The law of our land has decided that the most honorable careers will be closed to anyone who has not obtained a baccalaureate. What is more, it has decided that in order to obtain it students have to stuff their heads with Latin texts to such an extent that nothing else enters. So, what is the result according to common agreement? It is that our young people have calculatedthe minimum work strictly required to gain a pass mark and they stop there. You object to this and you complain bitterly about it. Well, do you not see that this is the cry of public awareness, a public that refuses to have a useless effort imposed on it? Teaching an instrument that, as soon as you know it, no longer gives out any sound, is a very strange anomaly! How has it lasted up to our time? The explanation lies in a single word: monopoly. Monopoly is constructed in such a way that it renders immobile everything it touches. For this reason, I would have liked the Legislative Assembly to achieve freedom, that is to say, progress in teaching. It has now been decided that this will not happen. We will not have total freedom. May I be allowed to make an effort to save a shred of it? Freedom may be considered from the point of view of people and in relation to subjects taught—ratione personae et ratione materiae4 —as lawyers say, to eliminate the competition between methods is no less an attack on freedom than to eliminate competition between men. There are those who say: “The teaching profession will be free, since anyone may enter it.” That is a great illusion. The state, or more precisely the party, the faction, the sect, or the man who briefly and even very legally takes control of government influence, may give teaching any direction he pleases and fashion at will all intelligent minds through the single mechanism of degrees. Give a man the power to confer degrees and, while leaving yourself free to teach, the teaching will in fact be carried out in servitude. I, as the father of a family, and the teacher with whom I join forces for the education of my son may well believe that a proper education consists in knowing what things are and what they produce, both in the realm of physics and in the realm of morals. We may think that a person is best educated if he has the most accurate knowledge of phenomena and is most conversant with the cycle of cause and effect. We would like to base teaching on this foundation. But the state thinks otherwise. It thinks that to be learned is to be able to scan the verses of Plautus and to quote the opinions of Thales and Pythagoras with regard to fire and air. So what does the state do? It tells us: “Teach your pupil whatever you like, but when he is twenty, I will have him interrogated on the opinions of Pythagoras and Thales, I will have him scan the verses of Plautus, and if he is not schooled enough in these matters to prove to me that he has devoted his entire youth to them, he cannot be a doctor, lawyer, magistrate, consul, diplomat, or teacher.” This being so, I am obliged to bow to the state, since I cannot take the responsibility on myself to bar my son from such fine professions. You may well say that I am free; I insist that I am not, since you reduce me to making my son, at least in my opinion, a pedant, perhaps a frightful little orator, and most certainly a turbulent troublemaker. It would be bearable if only the knowledge required for the baccalaureate related in some slight way to the needs and interests of our era, if only it was merely useless; but what is required is deplorably disastrous! Distorting the human mind is the problem that seems to have been set and that the bodies to which the monopoly of teaching has been allocated have settled on. This is what I will try to demonstrate. Since the start of this debate, the university and the clergy have been throwing accusations at each other like so many balls. “You are perverting our youth with your philosophical rationalism,” say the clergy. “You are dulling its wits with your religious dogmatism,” replies the university. Arbitrators then come forward and say: “Religion and philosophy are sisters. Let us merge free examination and authority. University and clergy, you have taken turns in having the monopoly. Share it and let us have an end to this.” We have heard the venerable bishop of Langres5 rudely identify the university thus: “It is you who have given us the socialist generation of 1848.” And M. Crémieux hastened to respond to the chastisement in these words: “It is you who have raised the revolutionary generation of 1793.” If there is any truth in these allegations, what should we conclude from them? That the two forms of teaching have been disastrous not because of what separates them but because of what they have in common. Yes, I am convinced of this. There is one common factor in these two forms of teaching, the abuse of classical studies, and it is in this that both have perverted the judgment and morality of the country. They differ in that one emphasizes the religious element while the other emphasizes the philosophical one, but these elements, far from having caused the harm they are reproached for, have lessened it. We are indebted to them for not being as barbaric as the barbarians unceasingly put up by Latinism for us to imitate. Let me make a supposition that is a bit stretched, but that will help my thought to be understood. I imagine, then, that somewhere in the Antipodes there is a nation that, because it hates and despises work, has based its entire means of existence on the successive pillage of all the neighboring tribes and on slavery. This nation has established a policy, a moral code, a religion, and public opinion in line with the cruel purpose that is sustaining and developing it. Since France has given the clergy the monopoly on education, the clergy finds nothing better to do than to send all French young people to visit this nation, to live its way of life, be inspired by its sentiments, share its enthusiasms, and breathe its ideas as their own air. The thing is that the clergy takes care to ensure that each student goes with a small volume titled The Gospels. The generations brought up in this way return to their home country and a revolution breaks out; I leave you to imagine the role they will play in it. When it sees this, the state snatches the monopoly on teaching from the clergy and hands it over to the university. Faithful to its traditions, the university also sends its young people to the Antipodes to visit the nation that pillages others and possesses slaves, after supplying them, however, with a small volume titled Philosophy. Scarcely have five or six generations raised this way returned to their native soil than a second revolution breaks out. Trained in the same school as their predecessors, they show themselves their worthy emulators. In this way, war breaks out between the monopolists. “It is your small book that did all the damage,” says the clergy. “It is yours,” replies the University. Well no, sirs, your small books had nothing to do with all of this. What did the damage was the strange idea, thought out and carried out by both of you, of sending young French people whose future lay in work, peace, and freedom, to become imbued and permeated with and saturated in the sentiments and opinions of a nation of brigands and slaves. My contention is this: The subversive doctrines that have been given the name of socialism or communism are the fruit of classical teaching, whether it is dispensed by the clergy or by the university. I add that the baccalaureate imposes classical teaching by force even on the so-called free schools that will, people say, arise as a result of the law. It is for this that I demand that university degrees be eliminated. Much praise has been heaped on Latin as a means of developing intelligence; this is pure conventionalism. The Greeks, who did not learn Latin, did not lack intelligence, and we do not see that French women lack it any more than they lack common sense. It would be strange if the human spirit could gain strength only by deforming itself; and will people never understand that the highly problematic advantage that is alleged, if it exists, is very dearly bought with the redoubtable disadvantage of having the soul of France penetrated by the language of the Romans, their ideas, their sentiments, their opinions, and a caricature of their behavior? Since the time when God pronounced this decree over men: “By the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread,” they have found existence to be so great and absorbing an affair that, depending on the means they use to achieve it, their behavior, habits, opinions, moral code, and social systems necessarily manifest wide-ranging differences. A people that lives by hunting cannot resemble one that lives by fishing, nor can a pastoral nation resemble a nation of seafarers. However, these differences are nothing in comparison with that which has to characterize two peoples, one of which lives from work and the other from theft. For between huntsmen, fishermen, shepherds, farm laborers, traders, and manufacturers, there is this common factor, that they all seek to satisfy their needs through the action they carry out on things. What they wish to subject to their rule is nature. But the men who base their means of existence on pillage exercise their action on other men; what they ardently aspire to dominate are their fellow men. For men to exist, it is absolutely necessary for this action on nature, which we call work, to be carried out. It may be that the fruits of this action benefit the nation that carries it out. It is also possible that they come across another people, either indirectly or through force, who rule over the people who do the work. I cannot develop this line of thinking in detail here, but if you care to think about it, you will be convinced that between two conurbations of men situated in such opposing conditions, everything has to be different: behavior, habits, judgments, organizations, moral codes, and religions, and this is so far true that the very words intended to express the most basic relationships, such as those for family, property, freedom, virtue, society, government, republic, or people, cannot represent the same ideas in both cases. A nation of warriors will soon understand that the family will weaken military devotion (we feel this ourselves since we forbid our soldiers to have families). However, the population must not die out. How do we solve the problem? As Plato did in theory and Lycurgus in practice, by promiscuity. Plato and Lycurgus, however, are names we are accustomed to pronounce only with reverence. As for property, I challenge you to find an acceptable definition of this in the whole of antiquity. We, for our part, say: “Men are the owners of themselves and consequently of their faculties and, following this, of the products of their faculties.” But could the Romans conceive of such a notion? As the owners of slaves, were they able to say: “Man belongs to himself”? As they despised work, were they able to say: “Man is the owner of the product of his faculties”? This would have been to base a whole society on collective suicide. On what then did antiquity base property? On the law, a disastrous idea, the most disastrous ever introduced into the world, since it justifies the use and abuse of anything it pleases the law to declare property, even the fruits of theft and even the theft of men. In these barbaric present times, freedom could not be better understood. What is freedom? It is the sum total of freedoms. To be free, under one’s own responsibility, to think and act, to speak and write, to work and trade, to teach and learn, that alone is to be free. Can a disciplined nation with the prospect of an endless battle conceive freedom thus? No, the Romans prostituted the word to mean a certain audaciousness in the internecine struggles that the sharing of plunder triggered between them. The leaders wanted everything, and the people demanded their share. This gave rise to storms in the Forum, the retreats to the Aventine Mountain, the agrarian laws, the interventions by the tribunes, and the popularity of conspirators. This also gave rise to this maxim: Malo periculosam libertatem,6 etc., which has passed into our language and which I inscribed in adornment on all my schoolbooks:
Fine example, sublime precepts, precious seed to be sown in the souls of French youth! What should we say about Roman morals? And I am not referring here to relationships between father and son, husband and wife, shop owner and customer, master and servant, or man and God, relationships that slavery all on its own could not fail to transform into a tissue of turpitude; all I wish to concentrate on here is that which is called the estimable side of the republic, patriotism. What is this patriotism? The hatred of foreigners. To destroy all civilization, stifle all progress, put the entire world to fire and the sword, and chain women, children, and the elderly to the triumphal chariots: in that lay glory and virtue. It is to these atrocities that the marble of sculptors and the songs of poets were devoted. How many times have our young hearts beat with admiration and alas with emulation at this sight! This is how our teachers, venerable priests full of years and charity, prepared us for a Christian and civilized life; so great is the power of conventionalism! The lesson has not been lost, and doubtless it is from Rome that we have this maxim that is right for theft and wrong for work: One people loses what another gains, a maxim that still governs the world. To give us an idea of the Roman moral code, let us imagine an association of men in the center of Paris. The association hates work and is intent on procuring possessions for itself through guile and force, and is thus at war with society. There is no doubt that within this association a certain moral code and even a high degree of virtue will soon evolve. Courage, perseverance, dissimulation, prudence, discipline, constancy in misfortune, profound secrecy, cultivation of points of honor, and devotion to the community will doubtless be the virtues that necessity and general opinion would develop in these brigands. This was true of buccaneers and also true of the Romans. It will be said of the Romans that the grandeur of their enterprise and its immense success has shrouded their crimes in a sufficiently glorious veil to transform them into virtues. And it is for this very reason that this school is so pernicious. It is not abject vice but vice crowned with splendor that pleases the spirit. Finally with regard to society, the ancient world has bequeathed to the new world two erroneous notions that undermine it and that will continue to undermine it for a long time. The first: that society is a state separate from nature and born of a contract. This idea was not as erroneous in past times as it is currently. Rome and Sparta were indeed two associations of men with a common and determined goal, pillage, and they were not exactly societies, but rather armies. The second, a corollary of the first: that law creates rights and that, consequently, the legislator and humanity have the same relationship with each other as the potter and clay. Minos, Lycurgus, Solon, and Numa constructed the systems of society in Crete, Sparta, Athens, and Rome. Plato was the constructor of imaginary republics that were to serve as models for future teachers of peoples and fathers of nations. So, and note this well, these two ideas form the special character and distinctive stamp of socialism in the unfavorable sense of the word and as a common label for all social utopias. Whoever, not knowing that the social body is a set of natural laws, like the human body, dreams of creating an artificial form of society, and sets out to manipulate the family, property, rights, and humanity to suit his will, is a socialist. He is not engaging in physiology but in statuary. He does not observe; he invents. He does not believe in God but in himself. He is not a scholar; he is a tyrant. He is not serving mankind; he is making use of it. He is not studying its nature; he is changing it in accordance with Rousseau’s advice.7 He is drawing inspiration from antiquity and following on from Lycurgus and Plato. And, to sum it up, he has certainly obtained his baccalaureate. People will tell me that I am exaggerating, that it is not possible for our studious youth to draw such deplorable opinions and sentiments from glorious antiquity. And what do you want them to draw there, other than what is there? Make an effort of memory and remind yourself of your turn of mind when you left school and entered the wide world. Did you not burn with a desire to imitate the ravagers of the land and the agitators in the Forum? For my part, when I see the society of today cast young people in the tens of thousands into the mold of the Brutuses and the Gracchi, only to launch them, incapable of any honest work (opus servile), into the crowd and onto the street, I am astonished that they withstand the test. For a classical education is not only reckless enough to plunge us into Roman life, it does so while accustoming us to becoming enthusiastic about it, to considering it as a fine ideal for humanity, a sublime type that is placed too high for modern souls but which we should strive to imitate without ever claiming to attain it.8 Is the objection raised that socialism has permeated the classes who do not aspire to the baccalaureate? I will reply, with M. Thiers:9 Secondary education teaches ancient languages to the children of the affluent classes. . . . It is not just the words that are being taught to children when they are taught Greek and Latin, it is noble and sublime things (plunder, war, and slavery), it is the history of humanity through images that are simple, great, and indelible. . . . Secondary education shapes what are known as the enlightened classes of a nation. But, while the enlightened classes are not the nation in its entirety, they characterize it. Their vices, qualities, and good and evil tendencies are very soon those of the entire nation; they create the people themselves through the contagion of their ideas and sentiments.10 (Very good.) Nothing is more true and nothing explains better the disastrous and artificial deviations of our revolutions. “Antiquity,” adds M. Thiers, “let us dare to say to a century proud of itself, is the most beautiful thing in the world. Let us leave children in antiquity, sirs, as in a calm, peaceful, and healthy refuge that is destined to keep them fresh and pure.” The calm of Rome! The peace of Rome! The purity of Rome! Oh! If the lengthy experience and remarkable good sense of M. Thiers has not been able to preserve him from such a strange fascination, how do you expect our ardent youth to stand up to it?11 In the last few days, the National Assembly has witnessed a comic dialogue, certainly worthy of Molière’s brush. M. Thiers, addressing M. Barthélemy Saint-Hilaire from the rostrum without a smile: “You are wrong, not from the artistic but from a moral point of view, to prefer Greek to Latin, in particular for the French nation, which is a Latin nation.” M. Barthélemy Saint-Hilaire, also without a smile: “What about Plato!” M. Thiers, still without a smile: “It has been a good thing and is a good thing to nurture Greek and Latin studies. I prefer Latin for a moral reason. But people have also wanted these poor young people to learn German, English, the exact sciences, physical sciences, history, etc.” To know what is the case, that is evil. To become imbued with Roman behavior, that is morality! M. Thiers is neither the first nor the only one to have succumbed to this illusion, I almost said to his mystification. May I be allowed to point out in a few words the deep-rooted impression (and what an impression!) that a classical education has made on literature, the moral code, and the politics of our country? It is a picture that I have neither the leisure nor the aspiration to complete, for which writer would not have to be summoned to appear? Let us be content with a sketch. I will not go back as far as Montaigne. Everybody knows that he was as Spartan in his vague intentions as he was far from this in his tastes. As for Corneille, of whom I am a sincere admirer, I think he has rendered a sad service to the minds of the century by shrouding in fine verses and giving an appearance of sublime grandeur to sentiments that are forced, extravagant, fierce, and antisocial, such as the following:
And I admit that I feel disposed to share Curiace’s sentiment by applying it not to a particular fact but to the entire history of Rome, when he says:
Fénelon: These days communism horrifies us because it frightens us, but did not a long-standing attention to the ancients make a communist of Fénelon, a man whom modern Europe rightly regards as the finest example of moral perfection? Read his Telemachus, the book that people are quick to put into the hands of children. In it you will see Fénelon adopting the traits of wisdom itself to teach legislators. And along what lines does he organize his model form of society? On the one hand, the legislator thinks, invents, and acts; on the other, society, impassive and inert, allows itself to be acted upon. The moral motivation, the principle of action, is thus wrested from all men to be vested in a single man. Fénelon, the precursor of the boldest of our modern organizers, decides on the food, accommodation, clothing, games, and occupations of all the inhabitants of Salente. He tells them what they will be allowed to eat and drink, on what plan their houses should be built, how many rooms they should have, and how they will be furnished. He says . . . but I will allow him to use his own words: Mentor set up magistrates to whom merchants accounted for their assets, profits, expenditure, and enterprises. . . . Besides, there was total freedom of trade . . . He forbade all the goods from foreign countries that might introduce opulence and ease. . . . He cut off a remarkable number of merchants who sold fashioned fabrics. . . . He regulated the clothes, food, furniture, size, and decoration of houses for all the different statuses. Arrange social condition by birth, he told the king . . . those of first rank after you will be clad in white, . . . those in the second rank in blue, . . . the third, in green, . . . the fourth in dawn yellow, . . . the fifth in pale red or pink, . . . the sixth in linen gray . . . and the seventh, who will be the lowest of the people in a color that is a mixture of yellow and white. These will be the clothes of the seven different conditions of free men. All the slaves will be clad in brownish gray. One13 will never allow any change, either of the nature of the fabric or of the lines of the clothes. He regulated the food eaten by citizens and slaves in the same way. He then eliminated all soft and effeminate music. He provided examples of simple, graceful architecture. He wanted each house of a certain standing to have a drawing room and peristyle with small rooms for all the people who were free. Where other things were concerned, Mentor’s moderation and frugality did not stop him from authorizing all the large buildings intended for horse and chariot racing, or for wrestling and boxing. Mentor considered that painting and sculpture were arts that could not be abandoned, but he did not wish many men in Salente to devote themselves to them. Do we not recognize in this an imagination inflamed by the reading of Plato and the example of Lycurgus that is amusing itself by carrying out experiments on men as though they were base matter? And let no one justify such wild fancies by saying that they are the fruit of excessive benevolence. This is just as true of all constructors and undoers of society. Rollin: There is another man, almost equal to Fénelon in intellect and feeling and more involved than Fénelon in education, and that is Rollin. Well then! To what abject intellectual and moral depths did a lengthy study of the classics reduce this good man, Rollin! We cannot read his books without being overcome by sadness and pity. We do not know whether he is a Christian or a pagan, so impartial is he between God and the gods. The miracles of the Bible and the legends of heroic times evoke the same credulity in him. On his placid face we see the shadows of warlike passion constantly flicker; all he can speak of are javelins, swords, and catapults. For him, as for Bossuet, one of the most interesting social problems is knowing whether the Macedonian phalanx was better than the Roman legion. He praises the Romans for pursuing only sciences that had domination as their objective: eloquence, politics, and war. In his eyes, all other forms of knowledge are sources of corruption and are good only for turning men toward peace. For this reason he banishes them carefully from his colleges, to the applause of M. Thiers. His only objects of veneration are Mars and Bellona, with just a passing thought for Christ. He is a sad plaything of the conventionalism that a classical education has caused to be predominant; he is so predisposed to admire the Romans that, where they are concerned, simply refraining from the greatest abominations is considered by him to be on a par with the greatest virtues. Alexander for having regretted that he assassinated his best friend and Scipio for not having enticed a wife from her husband are proof in his eyes of inimitable heroism. In short, while he has made a walking contradiction of each of us, he is certainly the perfect example of this. It is clear that Rollin was enthusiastically in favor of communism and Spartan institutions. We should do him justice, however; his admiration is not total. He takes this legislator to task, with appropriate circumspection, for having stamped his work with four minor blemishes:
These four reservations once entered, this gentleman returns to the path of classical conventionalism and sees in Lycurgus not a man but a god, and finds his policy perfect. The intervention of the legislator in everything appears to Rollin to be so essential that in all seriousness he congratulates the Greeks for the fact that a man named Pelasge came to teach them to eat acorns. Before that, he says, they grazed on grass like animals. Elsewhere, he says: “God was obliged to give the Romans a world empire as a reward for their great virtues, which only appear to be real. He would not have been just if He had awarded a lesser prize to these virtues, which are not actually real.” Do we not clearly see conventionalism and Christianity in conflict in Rollin, a poor soul in torment? The spirit of this utterance is the spirit of all the works of the founder of teaching in France. Contradicting oneself, making God contradict himself, and teaching us to contradict ourselves is Rollin in a nutshell, and the baccalaureate in a nutshell. If promiscuity and infanticide awaken Rollin’s scruples with regard to Lycurgus’s institutions, he is enthusiastic about everything else and even finds the means of justifying theft. This is how he does it. The stroke employed is curious and close enough to my subject to be worth mentioning. Rollin begins by stating in principle that the law creates property—a disastrous principle common to all constructors of society, and one that we will soon be finding in the mouths of Rousseau, Mably, Mirabeau, Robespierre, and Babeuf. Well, since the law is the justification for property, can it not also be the justification for theft? What can be opposed to this reasoning? “Theft was allowed in Sparta,” says Rollin, while “it was severely punished by the Scythians. The reason for this difference is clear; it is because the law, which alone decides on the ownership and use of assets, in the case of the Scythians, had granted an individual no rights over the assets of another, whereas the law, in the case of the Spartans, did the exact opposite.” Next, this good fellow, Rollin, in the heat of his plea in favor of theft and Lycurgus, invokes the most incontestable of authorities, that of God: “Nothing is more commonplace,” he says, “than similar rights awarded over the assets of others; this is how God not only gave the poor the authority to pick grapes in the vineyards and glean in the fields and carry off entire sheaves, but He also gave any passersby without distinction the freedom to enter the vineyards of others as oft en as they chose and to eat as many grapes as they wanted in spite of the vineyard owner. God Himself gave the first reason for this. It is that the land of Israel was His and that the Israelites enjoyed the use of it only on this burdensome condition.” People will doubtless say that this was Rollin’s personal doctrine. That is exactly what I am saying. I am trying to show to what state of moral infirmity the habitual study of the frightful form of society in classical times can reduce the finest and most honest minds. Montesquieu: It has been said of Montesquieu that he rediscovered the just credentials of the human race. He is one of the great writers whose every sentence has the force of authority. God forbid that I should wish to diminish his fame! But what should we not think of a classical education if it has succeeded in misleading this noble intelligence to the extent of causing him to admire the most barbarous of institutions in antiquity? The ancient Greeks, imbued with the need for the peoples who lived under a popular government to be raised in virtue, established singular institutions to inspire it. The laws of Crete were the origin for those of Sparta and those of Plato corrected them. I would ask people to give some attention to the extent of the genius needed by these legislators to see that, by upsetting all the accepted customs, by confusing all the virtues, they were revealing their wisdom to the universe. Lycurgus, combining robbery with the spirit of justice, the most severe slavery with the heights of freedom, the most atrocious sentiments with the greatest moderation, gave stability to his city. He appeared to remove all its resources from it, its arts, trade, money, and city walls. People had ambition there with no hope of being better off; they had natural sentiments and they were neither child, husband, nor father there. Even modesty was removed from chastity. It is along these paths that Sparta was led to greatness and glory, but with such infallibility in its institutions that nothing was obtained from it by winning battles if it was not possible to remove its policies. (Spirit of Laws, book 4, chapter 8)14 Those who will wish to found similar institutions will establish the common ownership of assets as in Plato’s republic, the respect that he demanded for the gods, the separation from foreigners in order to preserve behavior, and with the city carrying out trade and not the citizens. They will supply our arts without our luxury and our needs without our desires. . . . Montesquieu explains in these words the great influence that the ancients attributed to music: I believe that I can explain this: You have to get it into your head that in Greek towns, especially those whose principal object was war, all work and all the occupations that might lead to earning money were regarded as unworthy of a free man. “Most arts,” said Xenophon, “corrupt the body of those that exercise them. They oblige people to sit in the shade or close to the fire; such people have no time either for their friends or for the republic.” It was only in the corruption of some democracies that craftsmen managed to become citizens. This is what Aristotle teaches us, and he claims that a good republic will never give them the right of citizenship. Agriculture was still a servile activity, and it was normally a conquered people that carried it out: the Helots in Sparta, the Periecians in Crete, the Penestes in Thessalonia, and other enslaved peoples in other republics. In sum, all commercial exchange was infamous in the eyes of the Greeks. It would have implied that a citizen had rendered services to aslave, a tenant, or a foreigner, and the very idea shocked the spirit of freedom in Greece. Thus Plato, in his Laws, wanted a citizen who engaged in commercial exchange to be punished. The situation in the Greek republics was therefore very embarrassing: it was thought improper for citizens to work in trade, agriculture, or the arts, yet also wrong for them to be idle. An acceptable occupation was identified in the exercises relating to gymnastics and to war. The polity gave them no other choices. The Greeks, therefore, have to be regarded as a society of athletes and warriors. However, these activities, so suited to producing people that were hard and barbarous, needed to be tempered by others that made their behavior gentler. Music, which reaches the spirit through the organs of the body, was very suited to this. (Spirit of Laws, book 5)15 This is the notion that a classical education gives us of freedom. This is now how it teaches us to understand equality and thrift: Although in a democracy genuine equality is the soul of the state, this is, however, so hard to establish that punctilious conformity in this regard is not always suitable. All that is necessary is for a tax to be established that reduces or sets the differences at a given level, following which it is up to specific laws to equalize, so to speak, inequalities, through the charges it imposes on the rich and the relief it grants to the poor. (Spirit of Laws, book 5, chapter 6)16 In a good democracy, it is not enough for tracts of land to be equal; they have to be small as in Roman times. . . . Since equality in wealth encourages thrift, thrift maintains equality in wealth. Although these things are different, they are such that one cannot exist without the other. (Spirit of Laws, chapter 6)17 The Samnites had a custom which, in a small republic, and especially in a situation like theirs, was bound to produce admirable effects. All the young men were gathered together and judged. The one declared the best of all took any girl he wanted as his wife, the runner-up then made his choice, and so on down the line. . . . It would be difficult to imagine a reward that was nobler or greater, less of a burden to a small state, and more capable of affecting either sex. The Samnites were descendants of the Spartans, and Plato, whose institutions are simply the perfection of the laws of Lycurgus, produced a law that was more or less similar. (Spirit of Laws, book 7, chapter 16)18 Rousseau: No man has had such influence on the French Revolution as Rousseau. “His work,” says Louis Blanc, “was on the table of the Committee of Public Safety.” “These paradoxes,” he says elsewhere, “which his century took to be literary daring, were shortly to resound in the nation’s assemblies in the form of dogmatic truths that cut like a sword.” And in order for the moral bond linking Rousseau to antiquity not to be overlooked, the same panegyrist adds, “His style recalled the touching and fiery language of a son of Cornelia.” Besides, who does not know that Rousseau was the most fervent admirer of the ideas and behavior conventionally attributed to the Romans and Spartans? He himself said that reading Plutarch made him what he was. His first article was directed against human intelligence. In the very first pages he exclaimed: Can I forget that it was in the bosom of Greece that this city, as famous for its happy ignorance as for the wisdom of its laws, was seen to rise, this republic of demigods rather than men, so superior did their virtues seem to be over those of humanity? Oh Sparta! The eternal opprobrium of a vain doctrine! While the vices encouraged by the fine arts were introduced into Athens, while a tyrant so carefully assembled the works of the prince of poets, you cast out from your walls the arts and artists, the sciences and scholars! (Discourse on the Re-establishment of the Sciences and Arts)19 In his second work, Discourse on the Inequality of Conditions, he railed with even greater vehemence against all the bases of society and civilization. This is why he believed himself to be the mouthpiece of ancient wisdom: I will picture myself in the Lyceum in Athens, repeating my masters’ lessons, with Plato and Xenocrates as my judges and the human race as my audience.20 The predominant idea in this famous discourse may be summarized thus: The most terrible fate awaits those who, unfortunate enough to be born after us, add their knowledge to ours. The development of our faculties has already made us very unhappy. Our fathers were less unhappy, as they were more ignorant. Rome was close to perfection; Sparta had achieved it, as far as perfection is compatible with a social state. But the real good fortune for man is to live in the woods, alone, naked, with no bonds, no affections, no language, no religion, no ideas, no family, and in short in a state in which he is so close to an animal that it is highly unlikely that he stands upright and that his hands are not feet. Unfortunately, this golden age has not lasted. Men have gone through an intermediate phase, which nevertheless has not been without its charms: For as long as they were content with their rustic cabins, for as long as they were content with sewing their clothes of skins with bone needles, adorning themselves with feathers and shells, painting their bodies in a variety of colors . . . for as long as they occupied themselves only with work that a single person could do, they lived free, healthy, good, and happy.21 Alas, they were not able to stop at this first degree of culture: From the moment that a man needed help from another [here is society making its disastrous appearance]; as soon as it was seen to be useful for one person to have enough provisions for two, equality disappeared, property was introduced, and work became necessary. . . . Metallurgy and agriculture were the two arts whose invention brought about this great revolution. For the poet, it is gold and silver, for the philosopher, it is iron and wheat that civilized men and caused the perdition of the human race.22 It was therefore necessary to escape from the state of nature to enter into society. This gave rise to the third of Rousseau’s works, the Social Contract. It is not part of my subject to analyze this work here. I will limit myself to pointing out that Greek and Roman ideas are echoed on each page. Since society is a pact, each person has the right to make his own stipulations. It is up to those who associate, and to them alone, to regulate the conditions of society.23 But that is not easy. How will they regulate them? Will it be by common accord, by sudden inspiration? . . . How will a blind throng, who oft en do not know what they want, carry out on their own such a grand and difficult enterprise as a system of legislation? . . . This is why a legislator is needed.24 Thus, universal suffrage is conjured away in practice as soon as it is acknowledged in theory. For how will this legislator act, when in all respects, he has to be an extraordinary man who, since he is daring to undertake the establishment of a people, has to consider himself capable of changing human nature and of modifying man’s physical and moral constitution, who must, in short, invent the machine of which men are the material. Rousseau clearly proves here that the legislator cannot count either on force or persuasion. How does he solve this problem? By deception. This is what forced the fathers of nations of all eras to have recourse to the intervention of heaven and to honor the gods for their own wisdom . . . This sublime reason, which rises above common souls, is the one whose decisions are placed by the legislator in the mouths of the immortals in order for divine authority to sweep along those whom human prudence might not move. But it is not given to everyone to make the gods speak.25 (The gods! The immortals! A classical reminiscence) Like Plato and Lycurgus, his masters, like the Spartans and Romans, his heroes, Rousseau gave the words work and freedom a meaning that expressed two incompatible ideas. In the social state a choice had to be made, either to renounce freedom or to die of hunger. There was, however, a solution to the problem and that was slavery. As soon as a people provides itself with representatives, it is no longer free, it no longer exists! In Greece, all the people had to do, they did it themselves. They were constantly assembled on the square; slaves did their work; their great preoccupation was freedom. Once they no longer had the same advantages, how were they to retain the same rights? You value your material advantage more than your freedom and you fear slavery far less than destitution. What! Freedom is maintained only with the support of servitude? Perhaps. The two extremes meet. Everything outside nature has its disadvantages, and civil society more than the rest. There are situations so unfortunate that you can save your freedom only at the expense of that of others, and in which citizens can be in the fullest sense free only if slaves are in the fullest sense enslaved. This was the situation in Sparta. For you, a modern people, you do not have slaves, you are yourselves slaves, etc. This is genuine classical conventionalism. The ancients were propelled into procuring slaves for themselves by their brute instincts. But since it is a rank preconception, a college tradition, to find everything they did beautiful, subtle reasoning on the quintessence of freedom is attributed to them. The contrast that Rousseau established between the state of nature and the social state is as disastrous to private as to public morals. According to this mode of thinking, society is the result of a pact that gives rise to the law which, in turn, creates justice and morality out of nothing. In the state of nature there is neither morality nor justice. Fathers have no duty to their sons nor sons to their fathers, husbands to their wives nor wives to their husbands. It follows from this that if the social pact, once concluded, is dissolved, every thing collapses with it: society, law, morality, justice, and duty. “Each person,” says Rousseau, “is entitled to his original rights and regains his natural freedom while losing the conventional freedom for which he renounced it.”26 However, it should be noted that very little is needed to dissolve the social pact. This happens every time an individual breaks his undertakings or refuses the jurisdiction of a particular law. If a condemned man escapes when society tells him, “It is expedient for you to die,” if a citizen refuses to pay taxes, if an accountant puts his hand into the public till, at that very instant the social contract is broken, all moral duty ceases, justice no longer exists, and fathers, mothers, children, and spouses owe nothing to each other. Each person has an unlimited right to anything that takes his fancy; in short, the entire population reverts to a state of nature. I leave you to imagine the ravages that doctrines like this would have in revolutionary times. They are no less disastrous for private morals. What young man entering the world with enthusiasm and ambition does not say to himself, “The impulses of my heart are the voice of nature, which is never wrong. The institutions that bar my route come from men and are only arbitrary conventions to which I have not contributed. By crushing these institutions underfoot, I will have the twin pleasure of satisfying my leanings and thinking myself a hero.” Do I have to remind you here of this sad and painful page of the Confessions?27 My third child was therefore placed in the orphanage along with the two others. This also happened for the next two, since I have had five in all. This arrangement seemed to me to be so good that if I did not boast about it, it was solely out of deference to their mother . . . By entrusting my children to state education . . . I considered myself to be a member of Plato’s republic! Mably: No quotations are needed to demonstrate the Greek and Roman mania of Abbé Mably. A narrow-minded man, with a soul more straight-laced and a less-sensitive heart than Rousseau, he also had ideas that allowed for a reduced range of temperaments and of intellectual content. This made him overtly platonic, that is to say, communistic. Convinced, like all the classicists, that humanity is the raw material for manufacturers of institutions, he preferred to be one of the manufacturers rather than part of the raw material. Consequently he set himself up to be a legislator. As such, he was first called upon to establish Poland and he does not appear to have succeeded in this. Next, he offered Anglo-Americans the black broth of the Spartans, which he could not persuade them to adopt. Outraged by this blindness, he foretold the fall of the Union and gave it no more than five years of existence. May I be allowed to interject a reservation here? By quoting the absurd and subversive doctrines of such men as Fénelon, Rollin, Montesquieu, and Rousseau, I certainly do not wish to state that we do not owe pages full of reason and morality to these great writers. However, what is mistaken in their books arises from classical conventionalism and what is true arises from another source. It is precisely my thesis that teaching which is exclusively based on Greek and Latin literature makes us all living contradictions. It draws us violently back to a past that it glorifies down to its very horrors, while Christianity, the spirit of the century, and a fund of good sense that never loses its rights show us an ideal for the future. I will spare you Morelly, Brissot, and Raynal, who justify—what am I saying?—who praise to the skies war, slavery, clerical imposture, the community of possessions, and idleness. Who could fail to see the impure source of such doctrines? This source, I really must name it again, is the classical education that is imposed on us all by the baccalaureate. It is not only into literary works that the calm, peaceful, and pure ancient world has poured its poison, but also into those of legal experts. I defy anyone to find in any of our lawyers anything that approaches a reasonable notion of the right to property. And what can legislation from which such a notion is absent be like? Recently I happened to open the Treatise on the Law of Nations by Vattel.28 I saw that the author had devoted a chapter to examining the following question: Is it permissible to carry off women? It is clear that the legend of the Romans and Sabines has bequeathed to us this precious morsel. After having weighed the pros and cons with the utmost seriousness, the author opted for the affirmative. He owed this to the glory of Rome. Were the Romans ever wrong? A form of conventionalism forbids us to think this; they are Romans and that is enough. Burning, pillaging, or kidnapping, anything that comes from them is calm, peaceful, and pure. Will it be claimed that these are only personal opinions? Our society would be very fortunate if the uniform action of a classical education reinforced by the approbation of Montaigne, Corneille, Fénelon, Rollin, Montesquieu, Rousseau, Raynal, and Mably did not contribute to shaping the general opinion. This is what we will see. In the meantime, we have proof that the communist idea took hold not only of a few individuals but also of certain public bodies, wholesale, including the most learned and influential. When the Jesuits wanted to organize a social order in Paraguay,29 what plans did their previous studies suggest to them? Those of Minos, Plato, and Lycurgus. They established communism, which in turn did not fail to produce its sorry consequences. The Indians were reduced to several degrees below the state of savages. In spite of this, such was the inveterate predisposition of the Europeans in favor of communist institutions, constantly presented as being examples of perfection, that the happiness and virtue of these nameless beings (for they were no longer men) who were vegetating under the wing of the Jesuits were praised far and wide. Did Rousseau, Mably, Montesquieu, and Raynal, these great extollers of ideological crusades, check the facts? Not in the slightest. Could Greek and Latin literature be mistaken? Could anyone go wrong with Plato as a guide? Therefore, the Indians in Paraguay were happy or ought to have been, under pain of being unhappy against all the rules. Azara, Bougainville, and other travelers set off under the influence of these preconceived ideas to admire these marvels. First of all, in spite of the sorry reality being glaringly obvious, they could not believe it. They nevertheless had to accept the evidence and finally recorded, to their great regret, that communism, an attractive illusion, is an appalling reality. The logic is rock solid. It is perfectly clear that the authors I have just quoted did not dare to take their doctrine to its limit. Morelly and Brissot took it upon themselves to repair their inconsistency. As true followers of Plato, they openly preached the community of possessions and women and this, let us note, by constantly quoting the examples and precepts of this fine ancient world that everyone is supposed to admire. Such was the state to which education as imparted by the clergy had reduced public opinion in France with regard to family, property, freedom, and society when the Revolution broke out. The causes of the Revolution probably had no connection with a classical education, but can we doubt that this form of education contributed a host of mistaken ideas, sadistic feelings, subversive utopias, and deadly experimentation? Read the speeches made in the Legislative Assembly and the Convention. They are in the language of Rousseau and Mably. They are just tirades in favor of, and invocations and exclamatory addresses to, Fabricius,30 Cato, the two Brutuses, the Gracchi, and Catiline. Is an atrocity going to be committed? There is always the example of a Roman to glorify it. What education has instilled in the mind is translated into act. Sparta and Rome are agreed on as models and so they must be imitated or parodied. One person wants to establish the Olympic Games, another the agrarian laws, and a third black broth in the streets. I cannot hope to make a comprehensive commentary here on a question worthy of an accomplished pen devoting something more to it than a pamphlet: “On the influence of Greek and Latin literature on the spirit of our revolutions.” I have to limit myself to a few outlines. Two great figures dominate the French Revolution and appear to personify it, Mirabeau and Robespierre. What was their doctrine on property? We have seen that peoples who, in antiquity, had based their means of existence on depredation and slavery were unable to give property its proper principle. They were obliged to consider it a conventional fact and based it on the law, which enabled them to include slavery and theft in it, as Rollin so naively explains. Rousseau had also said, “Property is a human convention and institution, whereas freedom is a gift of nature.” Mirabeau professed the same doctrine: “Property,” he said, “is a social creation. Laws do not just protect or maintain property; they give rise to it, determine it, and give it the rank and scope that it occupies in the rights of citizens.”31 And when Mirabeau expressed himself thus, it was not to establish a theory. His real aim was to commit the legislator to limiting the exercise of a right that was within his discretion, since he had created it. Robespierre echoed Rousseau’s definitions. In defining freedom, this primary need of man, the most sacred of the rights he holds from nature, we have rightly said that its limit is the right of others. Why have you not applied this principle to property, which is a social institution, as though the laws of nature were less inviolable than the conventions of men?32 Following this preamble, Robespierre moves on to the definition. Property is the right held by each citizen to enjoy and dispose of possessions that are guaranteed to him by the law.33 Here then is the clear opposition between freedom and property. They are two rights whose origin is different. One comes from nature; the other is a social institution. The first is natural, the second conventional. But who makes the law? The legislator. He can therefore give the exercise of the right to property the conditions that suit him, since he confers it. Robespierre also hastens to deduce the rights of labor, the right to assistance, and progressive taxes from his definition. Society is obliged to provide for the subsistence of all of its members, either by procuring work for them or by assuring the means of existence for those who cannot work. The assistance required for indigence is a debt of the rich to the poor. It is up to the law to determine the manner in which this debt must be settled. Citizens whose income does not exceed what is necessary for their subsistence are exempted from contributing to public expenditure. The others have to support them progressively, in accordance with the extent of their wealth.34 Robespierre, said M. Sudre, thus adopted all the measures that, in the minds of their inventors as in reality, constitute the transition from property to communism. By applying Plato’s Treatise on Laws, he was unconsciously moving toward the achievement of the social state as described in Plato’s book called the Republic. (We know that Plato wrote two books, one—the Republic—to point out ideal perfection, the community of possessions and women, and the other—the Treatise on Laws—to teach the means of transition.) Robespierre may be considered, besides, as an admirer of the calm, peaceful, and pure ancient world. His speech, even on property, abounds in such declamations as “Aristide would not have envied the treasures of Crassus!”35 “Fabricius’s thatched cottage is no whit less enviable than Crassus’s palace!” etc.36 In principle, once Mirabeau and Robespierre decided to give the legislator the power to determine the extent of the right of property, it mattered little where they decided it was appropriate to draw the line. It might have suited them to go no further than the right to work, the right to assistance, and progressive taxes. However, others, more consistent, did not stop there. If the law that creates property and disposes of it can move one step toward equality, why can it not move two? Why would it not achieve absolute equality? For this reason, Robespierre was surpassed by Saint-Just, as had to happen, and Saint-Just by Babeuf, as had to happen too. This path has just one logical terminus. It was highlighted by the divine Plato. Saint-Just, . . . but I am becoming mired in the question of property and forgetting that I have undertaken to show how a classical education has perverted all moral notions. Assuming that the reader will believe me when I say that Saint-Just surpassed Robespierre along the path to communism, I will return to my subject. First of all, you have to know that Saint-Just’s errors were due to a study of the classics. Like all men of his time and ours, he was imbued with classicism. He thought he was a Brutus. Kept far from Paris by his party, he wrote: Oh god! Must Brutus languish, forgotten, far from Rome? My decision has been made, however, and if Brutus does not kill the others, he will kill himself.37 Kill! It appears that this is the destiny of man here below. All Greek and Latin scholars agree that the principle of a republic is virtue and God alone knows what they mean by this word! This is why Saint-Just wrote: A republican government has virtue as its principle, if not terror.38 There is another dominant opinion in the ancient world: that work is something squalid. Saint-Just condemned it in these words: Having a job is not the attribute of a proper citizen. The hand of man is made only for the land and for arms. And it was so that no one would be able to abase himself by carrying out a trade that Saint-Just wished to distribute land to everyone. We have seen that, according to the views of the ancients, the legislator is to humanity what the potter is to clay. Unfortunately when this idea dominates, everyone wants to be the potter and no one wants to be clay. We can well imagine that Saint-Just saw himself in the leading role: The day I am convinced that it is impossible to give the French manners that are gentle, sensitive, and inexorable toward tyranny and injustice, I will stab myself. If there were manners, all would be well. Institutions are needed to purify them. To reform manners, we have to begin by meeting the requirements of need and personal interest. Some land has to be given to everyone.39 The children are clothed in cotton all the year round. They sleep on rush mats for eight hours. They are fed in the community and live only on roots, fruit, vegetables, bread, and water. They are allowed to eat meat only after the age of sixteen. Men aged twenty-five will be obliged to declare each year in the temple the names of their friends. He who abandons his friend without good reason will be banished!40 In this way, Saint-Just, echoing Lycurgus, Plato, Fénelon, and Rousseau, attributes to himself more rights and powers over the manners, feelings, wealth, and children of the French than all the French have as a group. How small humanity is compared to him! Or rather it lives only in him. His brain is the brain and his heart the heart of the human race. This was, therefore, the course stamped on the revolution by Greek and Latin conventionalism. Plato pointed out the ideal. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, both clergy and laity began to celebrate this marvel. When the time came for action, Mirabeau took the first step, Robespierre the second, Saint-Just the third, Antonelle the fourth, and Babeuf, more logical than all his predecessors, stood to attention at the final step, absolute communism, pure Platonism. I ought to quote his writings here but will limit myself to saying that he signed them Caius Gracchus,41 which is highly characteristic. The spirit of the Revolution from the point of view that concerns us can be summed up in a few quotations. What did Robespierre want? “To raise men’s souls to the height of the republican virtues of the peoples of the ancient world” (3 nivôse year III).42 What did Saint-Just want? “To offer us the happiness of Sparta and Athens” (23 nivôse year III). He also wanted “all citizens to carry beneath their tunic Brutus’s dagger” (idem). What did the bloodthirsty Carrier want? “That all young men in future should envisage the live coals of Scaevola, the hemlock of Socrates, the death of Cicero, and the sword of Cato.” What did Rabaut Saint-Etienne43 want? “Following the principles of the Cretans and Spartans, the state should take control of man from the cradle and even before birth” (16 December 1792). What did the Quinze-vingts44 section want? “A church to be consecrated to freedom and an altar to be raised on which a perpetual fire would burn, maintained by young vestals” (21 November 1794 nivôse). What did the entire Convention want? “Our communes to include only Brutuses and Publicolas in the future” (19 March 1794). All these sectarians were nevertheless of good faith, and this made them all the more dangerous, since sincerity in error is fanaticism and fanaticism is a formidable power, especially when it acts upon masses prepared to suffer its action. Widespread enthusiasm in favor of a social stereotype cannot always be without issue, and public opinion, whether enlightened or misled, is nonetheless the ruler of the world. When one of these fundamental errors, such as the glorification of the ancient world lodged through teaching in all brains with the first glimmers of intelligence, is established there in a state of conventionalism, it tends to pass from minds to actions. Should a revolution then ring out the time to undertake experiments, who knows under what terrible name the person who appeared a hundred years earlier under the name of Fénelon would appear? Had he set his ideas out in a novel he would die for them on the scaffold; were he a poet, he would make himself a martyr; had he amused society, he would overturn it. However, in reality, there is a power that is superior to the most universal conventionalism. When education has deposited in the social body a disastrous seed, the social body has in it a force for self-preservation, a vis medicatrix,45 which makes it rid itself over time, and through suffering and tears, of the harmful germ. Therefore, when communism had sufficiently terrified and compromised society, a reaction became inevitable. France started to retreat into despotism. In its ardor it might have made little even of the legitimate conquests of the Revolution. It had the consulate and the empire. But alas! Do I need to show that the infatuation with Rome followed France into this new phase? The ancient world is forever there to justify all forms of violence. From Lycurgus to Caesar, how many models there are to choose from! Therefore, and I am here borrowing M. Thiers’s language, “We who, after being Athenians with Voltaire and fleetingly wishing to be Spartans under the Convention, became the soldiers of Caesar under Napoléon.” Can we fail to see the stamp that our devotion to Rome has left on this period? And, goodness me, this stamp is everywhere. It is in the edifices, the monuments, the literature, and the very fashions of imperial France. It is in the ridiculous names imposed on all our institutions. It is doubtless not an accident that we saw consuls, an emperor, senators, tribunes, prefects, senatus-consultes, eagles, Trajan columns, legions, Champs de Mars [Martian fields], prytaneums [military schools], and lycées spring up everywhere. The conflict between the revolutionary and counterrevolutionary principles seemed to be bound to end with the July Days in 1830. Since that time, the intellectual forces of this country have turned toward the study of social matters, which is nothing if not natural and useful. Unfortunately, the university gives the first impetus to the progress of the human mind, and it is still directing the mind toward the poisoned sources of the ancient world, to the extent that our unfortunate country is reduced to repeating its past and experiencing the same trials. It seems that it is condemned to go round in the circle of utopia, experimentation, reaction—literary Platonism, revolutionary communism, military despotism—Fénelon, Robespierre, Napoléon! Can things be any different? Instead of seeking to discover and reveal the natural laws of society, the young generation from whom the ranks of literature and journalism are recruited is content to take over as a basis this Greco-Roman axiom: Social order is a creation of the legislator. A dreadful point of departure, which opens a career of unlimited scope to the imagination and is nothing but the eternal spawning of socialism. For, if society is an invention, who would not want to be the inventor? Who would not want to be Minos, Lycurgus, Plato, Numa, Fénelon, Robespierre, Babeuf, Saint-Simon, Fourier, Louis Blanc, or Proudhon? Who does not think it glorious to establish a people? Who does not delight in the title of Father of the Nations? Who does not aspire to combine the family and property like chemical elements? But to give rein to fantasy elsewhere than in the columns of a journal, you have to hold power and occupy the focal point to which all the threads of public power lead. It is the essential preamble to any experimentation. Each sect, each school, will therefore do its utmost to remove the dominant school or sect from the government, and thus, under the influence of classical teaching, social life can be only an interminable sequence of struggles and revolutions whose object is to settle the question of which utopian will have the power to carry out experiments on the people as though they were base material! Yes, I accuse the baccalaureate of shaping, as though wantonly, all French youth for socialist utopias and social experimentation. And doubtless that is the reason for a very strange phenomenon, the incapacity to refute socialism shown by the very people who think they are threatened by it. Men from the bourgeoisie, landowners and capitalists, the systems of Saint-Simon, Fourier, Louis Blanc, Pierre Leroux, and Proudhon, are only doctrines, after all. You say they are wrong. Why do you not refute them? Because you have drunk from the same cup, because frequent reading of the ancients and your conventional liking for everything that is Greek or Roman has inoculated you with socialism. “Your mind is somewhat infatuated with it.” The leveling of your wealth as a result of tariffs, your law on government assistance, your calls for free education, your subsidies to encourage industry, your centralization, your faith in the state, your literature, your theater, everything demonstrates that you are socialists. You differ from the apostles in degree but you are on the same slope. This is why, when you feel yourself to be outdistanced, instead of refuting these beliefs—which you do not know how to do and which you cannot do without condemning yourselves—you wring your hands, tear out your hair, call for retrenchment, and exclaim piteously, “France is going to the dogs.” No, France is not going to the dogs. What is happening is that while you are concentrating on your sterile lamentations, the socialists are refuting themselves. Their sages are in open warfare. We have seen the end of the Fourierist phalanxes, and of the triad, and of the national workshop, and your leveling of conditions by law will die in the same way. What will still be there? Free credit. Why do you not show how absurd it is? Alas, it is you who invented it. You preached it for a thousand years. When you were unable to stifle personal interest, you regulated it. You taxed it to the maximum, giving rise to the thought that property is a creation of the law, which is exactly the view of Plato, Lycurgus, Fénelon, Rollin, and Robespierre and which is, and I am not afraid to state this, the essence and quintessence not only of socialism but of communism. Do not sing the praises to me therefore of a form of education that has taught you nothing of what you need to know and which leaves you astounded and struck dumb when faced with the first illusion it has pleased a madman to imagine. You are not capable of opposing error with truth; at least let the errors mutually destroy each other. Be careful not to gag the utopians, thus placing their propaganda on the pedestal of persecution. The minds of the working masses, if not the middle classes, have become absorbed with the major social questions. They will solve them. They will eventually find other definitions for family, property, freedom, justice, and society than those your education has given you. They will overcome not only the socialism that speaks its name but also the socialism that is unaware of what it is. They will kill off your universal intervention of the state, your centralization, your artificial unity, your system of protection, your official philanthropy, your laws on usury, your barbarous diplomacy, and your monopolized system of education. This is why I state that France is not going to the dogs. It will emerge from the combat happier, more enlightened, better organized, greater, freer, more moral, and more religious than you have made it. After all, and note this well, when I rail against classical studies, I am not asking for them to be forbidden; I am asking only that they should not be imposed. I am not calling on the state to align everyone with my views but to say, “Do not subject me to the opinion of others.” There is a great difference, and everyone should be quite clear on this. M. Thiers, M. de Riancey, M. de Montalembert, and M. Barthélemy Saint-Hilaire consider that the Roman atmosphere is excellent for shaping the hearts and minds of the young. So be it. Let them immerse their children in it; I leave them free to do this. But they should leave me free also to keep my children away from it as from pestilent air. You gentleman who would regulate us, what you consider to be sublime I consider odious; what satisfies your consciences frightens mine. Well then, follow your inspirations but allow me to follow mine. I am not constraining you; why do you constrain me? You are perfectly convinced that from the social and moral point of view, the finest ideal is in the past. For my part, I see it in the future. “Let us dare to say this to a century that is proud of itself,” said M. Thiers. “The ancient world is what is finest in the world.” For my part, I have the good fortune not to share this sorry opinion. I use the term sorry because this opinion implies that, because of a fatal law, humanity is constantly deteriorating. You situate perfection at the dawn of time while I situate it at the end. You believe society to be retrograde; I consider it to be progressive. You believe that our opinions, ideas, and manners should be cast in the classical mold as far as possible; in vain do I study the social order of Sparta and Rome, all I find in it are violence, injustice, imposture, perpetual wars, slavery, turpitude, erroneous policy, erroneous morals, and an erroneous religion. What you admire, I abhor. But in the end, you keep your judgment and leave me mine. We are not here as lawyers, on the one hand pleading in favor of a classical education and on the other against, before an assembly responsible for making a decision that will conflict either with my conscience or with yours. I am asking the state only for neutrality. I am asking for freedom both for you and for me. I have at least the advantage of impartiality, moderation, and modesty over you. Three sources of education are going to open up: the state, the clergy, and the teachers who claim to be free. What I am asking for is that these teachers should be free in effect to try out new and fruitful avenues in their career. Let the university teach what is dear to it, Greek and Latin. Let the clergy teach what it knows, Greek and Latin. Let them both produce Platonists and tribunes, but do not let them stop us from forming, through other processes, men for our country and our century. For if this freedom is forbidden to us, what bitter derision it will be when you come forward to say to us at every moment, “You are free!” During the session on 23 February, M. Thiers came to tell us for the fourth time: I will forever repeat what I have already said: The freedom established by the law we have drafted is freedom in accordance with the Constitution. I challenge you to prove otherwise. Prove to me that it is not freedom; for my part I uphold the view that no other is possible. In former times, no one could teach without the authority of the government. We have eliminated prior authorization; anyone can teach. In former times it was said: “Teach this, do not teach that.” Today we say: “Teach anything you wish to teach.” It is a painful thing to hear such a challenge addressed to us and to be condemned to silence. If the weakness of my voice did not forbid me to take the rostrum, I would have replied to M. Thiers. Let us then see what this freedom that you say is so sincere amounts to, from the point of view of teachers, fathers of families, and society in general. By virtue of your law, I found a college. With the cost of board and lodging, I have to purchase or rent premises, provide for feeding the students, and pay the teachers. However, next door to my college there is a lycée. It does not have to concern itself with premises and teachers. The taxpayers, including me, pay for these. It can therefore lower the cost of board and lodging to the extent that it makes my enterprise impossible. Is this freedom? One resource remains to me, however; that is to give instruction that is so much better than yours, so sought after by the public that it comes to me in spite of the relative expensiveness that you have forced on me. But now we meet and you say to me, “Teach whatever you like, but if you stray from my syllabus, all forms of professional career will be closed to your pupils.” Is this freedom? Now I am imagining that I am the father of a family and enroll my sons in a free institution. Into what position am I put? As a father, I pay for the education of my children without any help from anyone. As a taxpayer and Catholic, I am paying for the education of other people’s children since I cannot refuse to pay the tax that subsidizes the lycées; nor can I even excuse myself during Lent from casting a coin into the friar’s collection box to support the seminaries. In this, at least, I am free; but am I free with regard to taxes? No, no, tell me that you are acting in solidarity in the socialist meaning of the word, but do not pretend to be furthering freedom. And that is just the short side of the question. Here is something more serious. I give preference to free education since your official type of education (to which you make me contribute without drawing any benefit from it) appears to me to be communist and pagan. My conscience is averse to my sons’ being indoctrinated with Spartan and Roman ideas which, in my view at least, are nothing other than glorified violence and robbery. Consequently, I am obliged to pay board and lodging for my sons and taxes for the sons of others. And what do I then find? I find that your mythological and warlike teaching has been indirectly imposed on free colleges through the ingenious mechanism of your degrees and that I have to bend my conscience to suit your views under pain of making my children pariahs of society. You have told me four times that I am free. You may tell me this a hundred times, and a hundred times I will answer, “I am not.” Be inconsistent since you cannot avoid it, and I will concede that in the current state of public opinion, you will not be able to close the official colleges. But set a limit to your inconsistency. Do you not complain every day about the attitudes of the young? About their socialist tendencies? About their estrangement from religious ideas? About their passion for warlike expeditions, a passion so fierce that, in our deliberating assemblies, it is scarcely permissible to utter the word peace, and the most ingenious oratorical precautions have to be taken to mention justice when it comes to foreign parts? Such deplorable dispositions doubtless have a cause. At the worst, is it not possible that your mythological, platonic, warlike, and factious form of education has something to do with this? I am not telling you to change it, however; that would be to expect too much of you. But I tell you: Since you allow so-called free schools to spring up next to your lycées in conditions that are already very difficult, allow them, at their risk and peril, to try the paths of Christianity and science. The experiment is worth trying. Who knows? Perhaps it will mark progress. And you want to snuff it out at birth! Last, let us examine the question from the point of view of society, and first of all let us note that it would be strange for society to be free with regard to teaching if teachers and fathers of families were not. The first sentence of M. Thiers’s report on secondary education in 1844 proclaimed this terrible truth: “State education is perhaps the greatest interest of a civilized nation and, for this reason, is the greatest object of the ambition of the parties.”46 It appears that the conclusion to be drawn from this is that a nation that does not want to be the prey of the parties has to hasten to suppress state education, that is to say, by the state, and to proclaim freedom of education. If there is a form of education entrusted to the government, the parties would have one more reason to seek to take hold of power since, at the same time, they would be taking hold of education, the greatest object of their ambition. Does the hunger to rule not arouse enough covetousness already? Does it not engender enough conflicts, revolutions, and disorders? And is it wise to stir it up further through the bait of such high influence? And why do the parties seek to direct study? Because they know this saying by Leibnitz, “Make me the master of education and I will take charge of changing the face of the world.” Education by government is therefore education by one party, by a sect that is temporarily triumphant; it is education for the benefit of one idea, one exclusive approach. “We have fashioned the Republic,” said Robespierre; “It remains for us to fashion republicans,” an attempt that was repeated in 1848. Bonaparte wanted to fashion only soldiers, Frayssinous fanatics, and Villemain mere talkers. M. Guizot would fashion only Doctrinaires, Enfantin mere followers of Saint-Simon, and someone who resented seeing humanity degraded in this way, if ever he were in the position of saying “I am the state,” would perhaps be tempted to fashion only economists. What then! Will we never see the danger of giving parties the opportunity of imposing their views, I mean their errors, by force, universally and uniformly, whenever they snatch power? For forbidding by law any view other than the one with which you yourself are infatuated is indeed coercion. Claims and intentions of this nature are essentially monarchical, although no one has more resolutely displayed them than the republican party, since they are based on the premise that those governed are made by those who govern, that society belongs to the government, which has to fashion it in its image, whereas, according to our citizen rights, so dearly bought, power is only an emanation of society, one of the manifestations of its thought. For my part, I cannot conceive a vicious circle more absurd, especially in the mouths of republicans, than this: As the years go by, through the mechanism of universal suffrage, national thought will be incarnate in the magistrates and then these magistrates will fashion national thought to suit their will. This doctrine implies the following two assertions: National thought wrong, governmental thought infallible. And if this is so, you republicans, immediately restore autocracy, state education, legitimacy, divine right, and irresponsible and infallible absolute power, all institutions that have a common basis and that emanate from the same source. If there is in the world one infallible man (or sect), let us hand over to him not only education but all the powers and make an end of it. If not, let us become enlightened as best we can, but let us not give up. Now, I will repeat my question: from the social point of view, does the law we are discussing achieve freedom? In former times, there was one university. Its permission was needed in order to teach. It imposed its ideas and methods, and people were obliged to operate through it. In Leibnitz’s view it was thus the ruler over generations, and doubtless this was the reason that its head took the revealing title grand master. Now all of this has been overturned. The university will henceforward have just two attributions: 1. the right to dictate what knowledge is needed to obtain degrees, and 2. the right to block innumerable careers to those who do not follow this avenue. People will say that such power is almost nothing. I, on the other hand, say that this nothing is all. This leads me to say something about a word that has oft en been used in this debate: unity, since many people consider the baccalaureate as a means of stamping a single direction on all minds that, if not reasonable and useful, is at least uniform, and for this reason a good thing. Those who admire unity are very numerous, and this is understandable. Providence has decreed that we all have faith in our own judgment, and we believe that there is just one valid opinion, that is to say, ours. We therefore think that the legislator can do no better than to impose this on all, and for greater safety we all want to be the legislator. However, legislators succeed one another in office, and what happens? At each changeover one form of unity replaces another. State education thus favors uniformity by taking each period into consideration in isolation, but if successive periods are compared—for example, the Convention, the Directoire, the empire, the restoration, the July Monarchy, and the Republic—we find diversity and, what is worse, the most subversive of all forms of diversity, that which produces visible changes in the intellectual field, as though on a stage, depending on the caprices of the person controlling the effects. Will we forever allow national intelligence and public awareness to descend to this level of degradation and indignity? There are two types of unity. One is a point of departure. It is imposed by force by those who temporarily control it. The other is a result, the supreme consummation of human perfectibility. It is the result of the natural gravitation of human intelligence toward truth. The principle of the first type of unity is scorn for the human race, and its instrument is despotism. Robespierre was a unitarian when he said, “I have fashioned the Republic, I will set out to fashion republicans.” Napoléon was a unitarian when he said, “I love war and will make all Frenchmen into warriors.” Frayssinous was a unitarian when he said, “I have one belief and will bend all consciences to this belief through education.” Procrustes was a unitarian when he said, “Here is a bed; I will shorten or stretch anyone who exceeds or does not reach its dimensions.” The baccalaureate is unitarian when it says, “Life in society will be forbidden to anyone who has not followed my syllabus.” And let no one claim that the Supreme Council can change this syllabus each year, since we certainly cannot imagine a circumstance that would make matters worse. What then! The entire nation is to be considered as clay that the potter smashes when he is not happy with the shape he has given it? In his report in 1844, M. Thiers showed that he was a fervent admirer of this type of unity, while at the same time regretting that it conformed little to the genius of modern nations. A country in which freedom of education does not reign would be one in which the state, driven by absolute determination and wishing to cast its young people in the same mold and strike them in its effigy as though they were coins, would not permit any diversity in the system of education and, for a period of several years, would make all children wear the same type of clothes, eat the same type of food, and subject them to the same type of studies and the same type of exercises, bend them, etc.47 Let us refrain from speaking ill of this claimed prerogative of the state to impose unity of character on the nation and from regarding it as inspired by tyranny. It might almost be said, on the contrary, that this strong determination of the state to make all its citizens conform to a common type is in proportion to the patriotism of each country. It was in the ancient republics in which the fatherland was most adored and best served that it displayed the most stringent exactions with regard to the behavior and spirit of its citizens. . . . And we who, in the past century, have displayed all the aspects of human society, we who, having been Athenians with Voltaire, fleetingly wished to be Spartans under the Convention and the soldiers of Caesar under Napoléon, if there was one moment during which we thought of imposing the yoke of the state on education in an absolute manner, it was under the National Convention at the time of the greatest exaltation of patriotism.48 Let us give credit to M. Thiers. He does not suggest that we follow such examples. “We should not,” he said, “either imitate them or undermine them. It was a delirium but one arising from patriotism.” It remains no less true that M. Thiers here shows that he continues to adhere to the judgment he made. “The ancient world is what is finest in the world.” He shows a secret predilection for absolute state despotism, an instinctive admiration for the institutions of Crete and Sparta, which gave the legislator the power to cast all young people in the same mold, to strike them in its effigy of the state, like coins, etc., etc. And I cannot refrain from pointing out at this juncture, as it is fully part of my subject, the traces of classical conventionalism which make us admire as virtue in the ancient world that which was the result of the hardest and most immoral of necessities. The ancients whom we exalt, and I cannot repeat this too oft en, lived from piracy and would not have touched a tool for anything in the world. The entire human race was their enemy. They had condemned themselves to perpetual warfare and to the situation of always having to conquer or perish. This being so, there was and could be only one occupation, that of a soldier. The community had to devote itself to developing military qualities uniformly in all of its citizens, and its citizens subjected themselves to this unity, which guaranteed their existence.49 But what is there in common between these barbarous times and modern times? With what precise and clearly determined aim would all citizens be struck in the same effigy, like so many coins, today? Is it because they are all destined to follow a variety of careers? What would be the reason for casting them in the same mold? And who will hold the mold? This is a terrible question, which should make us think. W ho will hold the mold? If there is a mold (and the baccalaureate is one), everyone will want to hold the handle: M. Thiers, M. Parisis, M. Barthélemy Saint-Hilaire, me, the Reds, the Whites, the Blues, and the Blacks.50 We would therefore have to fight to settle this initial question, which would constantly resurface. Is it not easier to break the fatal mold and proclaim freedom honestly? Especially since freedom is the terrain in which genuine unity germinates and is the environment that makes it fertile. The effect of competition is to stimulate good methods, reveal them and make them universal, and eliminate bad ones. It has to be admitted that the human mind is naturally more disposed to the truth than to error, to good than to evil, to what is useful than to what is harmful. If this were not true, if a fall were to be naturally reserved for the truth and triumph for the false, all our efforts would be in vain; humanity would be inevitably propelled, as Rousseau believed, toward a fatal and progressive degradation. We would have to say, with M. Thiers, “The ancient world is what is finest in the world,” which is not only an error but blasphemy. Properly understood, the interests of men are harmonious and the light that enables men to understand them shines with an ever more brilliant glow. Therefore, individual and collective efforts, experience, stumbling and even deceptions, competition—in a word, freedom—make men gravitate toward this form of unity that is an expression of the laws of their nature and the achievement of the general good. What has made the liberal party fall into this strange contradiction of failing to recognize freedom, dignity, and the ability of man to grow in perfection and instead preferring an artificial unity that is static, degrading, and imposed in turn by all the despotic regimes to the benefit of the most diverse dispensations? There are several reasons for this. First, the party itself has also received the Roman impress of a classical education. Are its leaders not holders of the baccalaureate? Second, it hopes that this precious instrument, this intellectual mold, the object of all desires, according to M. Thiers, will fall, by way of political vicissitudes, into its hands. Last, the requirements of defense against unjust aggression from Europe in’92 have not inconsiderably contributed to making the idea of a powerful unity popular in France. However, of all the motives that have persuaded liberalism to sacrifice freedom, the most powerful is the fear that the encroachments of the clergy have inspired in liberalism with regard to education. I do not share this fear but I understand it. Consider, says liberalism, the situation of the clergy in France, its scholarly hierarchy, its strong discipline, its militia of forty thousand members, all unmarried and occupying the leading role in each commune in the country. Consider the influence that the clergy owes to the nature of its functions, which it draws from the word that it causes to resound without contradiction and with authority from the pulpit and which it murmurs in the confessional. Consider the links that bind it to the state through the religious budget, the links that subject it to a religious head who is simultaneously a foreign king, the help it receives from a fervent and devoted congregation, the resources it gains from the alms it distributes. Consider the fact that it regards as its first duty to take control of education and tell me whether, under these conditions, freedom of education is not just a delusion. A volume would be needed to discuss this mighty question and all those questions relating to it. I will limit myself to one consideration and say this: Under a free regime, it is not the clergy who will conquer education but education that will conquer the clergy. It is not the clergy who will strike the century in its effigy, but the century that will fashion the clergy in its image. Can we have any doubt that education stripped of university shackles and divorced, through the elimination of degrees, from classical conventionalism, will launch itself down new and fruitful paths under the spur of rivalry? Free institutions, which will laboriously start up between lycées and seminaries, will feel the need to give the human mind its proper food, that is to say, the science of what things are and not the science of what was said about them two thousand years ago. “Ancient times are the childhood of the world,” said Bacon, “and in truth it is our time that is ancient, since the world has acquired knowledge and experience as it has grown old.” The study of the works of God and nature in the moral and physical order, this is true education; this is what will be dominant in free institutions. The young people who receive this education will show themselves to be superior through the force of their intelligence, the sureness of their judgment, and their practical aptitude in life to the frightful little talkers that the university and clergy will have saturated with doctrines that are as false as they are outmoded. While the first group will be prepared to assume the social functions of our time, the others will be reduced at first to forgetting what they have learned, if they can, and then learning what they ought to know. When faced with these results, fathers of families will tend to prefer free schools, full of sap and life, to these other schools, which are succumbing to the slavery of routine. What will happen then? The clergy itself, still wishing to retain its influence, will have no other recourse than to substitute the teaching of things for the teaching of words, the study of positive truths for that of conventional doctrines, and substance for the superficial. However, in order to teach you have to know, and in order to know you have to learn. The clergy will thus be obliged to change the direction of its own studies, and this renovation will be introduced all the way up to the seminaries. Well, do you think that a different diet will not produce different temperaments? For, let us be clear, it is not a question here of changing the subject only but also the method of clerical teaching. Knowledge of the works of God and nature is acquired by other intellectual processes than that of theogony. Observing facts and their sequence is one thing; admitting a text that is taboo without examination and drawing its consequences is quite another. When science replaces intuition, examination is substituted for authority and the philosophical method for the dogmatic. A different aim requires a different procedure, and other procedures give the mind other habits. There is therefore no doubt that the introduction of science into the seminars, the infallible result of the freedom of teaching, will have the effect of modifying these institutions, right down to their intellectual habits. And I am convinced that therein lies the dawn of a great and desirable revolution, which will achieve religious unity. I said not long ago that classical conventionalism made us into living contradictions, French by necessity and Romans by education. Could it not also be said that from the religious point of view we are living contradictions? We all feel in our heart of hearts an irresistible magnet that draws us toward religion, and at the same time we feel intellectually a no less irresistible force that repels us from it; and it is a point of fact that this is all the more true the more the mind is cultured, so that a great doctor was able to say: Litterati minus credunt.51 Oh what a sad sight it is! For some time now, above all, we have heard deep groans on the dilution of religious beliefs and, what is strange, the very people who have let the last spark of faith die out in their soul are the most willing to find doubt impertinent . . . in others. “Submit your reason,” they told the people, “or all will be lost. It is right for me to defer to mine since it is of a particular temper, and to observe the Decalogue I do not need to believe it has been revealed. Even when I drift away from it a little, not much harm is done; for you on the other hand it is different, you cannot infringe it without imperiling society . . . and my peace of mind.” This is how fear seeks refuge in hypocrisy. People do not believe but pretend to do so. While skepticism forms the basis, calculated religiosity rises to the surface and here is a new form of conventionalism, of the worst kind, to dishonor the human mind. However, not everything in this language is hypocritical. Although people do not believe everything or practice anything, there is deep in people’s hearts, as Lamennais said, a root of faith that never dries up. Where has this bizarre and dangerous situation come from? Might it not be that institutions, practices, and rites that intelligent reflection cannot admit, whatever people say, have been mingled over time with the religious, primordial, and fundamental truths to which all sects and schools by common consent have adhered? And have these human additions no other support in the actual minds of the clergy than the dogmatism through which they attach them to the primordial and uncontested truths? Religious unity will come about, but only when every sect has abandoned the parasitic institutions to which I am referring. Let us remember that Bossuet made good use of them when he debated with Leibnitz on the means of bringing all the various Christian confessions back to unity. Will what appeared to be possible and good to the great seventeenth-century doctor be seen as being too daring by the doctors of the nineteenth century? Whatever happens, by implanting other intellectual habits in the clergy, freedom of teaching will doubtless be one of the most powerful instruments of the great religious renovation that alone can satisfy consciences and save society.52 So great is the need of societies for a moral code that the body that makes itself the guardian and dispenser of this code in the name of God acquires unlimited influence over them. However, experience has shown that nothing perverts men more than unlimited influence. There comes a time, therefore, when far from the priesthood remaining merely the instrument of religion, it is religion that becomes the instrument of the priesthood. At this point a fatal antagonism comes into the world. Faith and intelligence, from opposing sides, pull everything over to them. Priests unceasingly add to sacred truths errors that they proclaim as no less sacred, thus offering the lay opposition solid reasons and arguments that are increasingly serious. The former seeks to pass on falsehood with truth while the latter undermines the truth by falsehood. Religion becomes superstition and philosophy incredulity. Between these two extremes, the masses are shrouded in doubt, and it can be said that humanity is going through a critical period. Nevertheless, the abyss becomes ever deeper and the struggle continues not only between individuals but also within the conscience of every man, with a variety of outcomes. If political upheaval strikes terror into society, it finds refuge in faith, out of fear; a sort of hypocritical religiosity gains the upper hand, and priests consider themselves the victors. But no sooner has calm returned, no sooner have priests tried to turn victory to their advantage than intelligence reclaims its rights and resumes its work. When will this anarchy end then? When will intelligence and faith form an alliance? When faith is no longer a weapon, when priests return to what they ought to be, an instrument of religion, and abandon the outward show that interests them in favor of the fundamentals that interest humanity. When this happens, it will not be enough to say that religion and philosophy are sisters; they will have to be said to be merged in unity. But I will come down from these elevated heights and, returning to university degrees, I ask myself whether the clergy will be very averse to abandoning the routine paths of classical teaching, which, incidentally, they are in no way obliged to do. It would be amusing if Platonic communism, paganism, the ideas and behavior shaped by slavery and piracy, Horace’s Odes, and Ovid’s Metamorphoses were to find their ultimate defenders and teachers in the priests of France! It is not my place to give them advice, but they will doubtless allow me to quote an excerpt from a journal which, unless I am mistaken, is written by ecclesiastics: Who then, among the doctors of the church, are the apologists of pagan teaching? Is it Saint Clement, who wrote that secular science is like fruit and jam that should be served only at the end of a meal? Is it Origen, who wrote that in the golden cups of pagan poetry there is deadly poison? Is it Tertullian, who called the pagan philosophers the patriarchs of the heretics, Patriarchae hereticorum? Is it Saint Irenaeus, who declared that Plato was the seasoning for all heresies? Is it Lactantius, who noted that the well-read men of his day were those who had the least faith? Is it Saint Ambrose, who said that it was very dangerous for Christians to be concerned with lay oratory? Finally, is it Saint Jerome, who in his letter to Eustochia strongly condemned the study of the pagans, saying: “What is there in common between light and darkness? What agreement can there be between Christ and Baal? What has Horace to do with the Psalms or Virgil with the Gospels?” Saint Jerome, who so bitterly regretted the time he devoted in his youth to the study of pagan letters: “How unfortunate I was, I denied myself food in order not to abandon Cicero; as soon as morning broke, I had Plautus in my hands. If on occasion, withdrawing into myself, I began to read the prophets, their style seemed to me to be crude and, because I was blind, I denied the light.” But let us listen to Saint Augustine: The studies through which I came to read the writings of others and to write what I think, were nevertheless much more useful and much more solid than those that I was later obliged to pursue, which concerned the adventures of I do not know which Aeneas and which made me weep over the fate of Dido, dying of love, while, forgetting my own faults, I was myself finding death in this disastrous literature. . . . However, these are the follies that are called fine and honest letters: Tales dementiae honestiores et uberiores litterae putantur.53 . . . Let these merchants of fine literature upbraid me. I am not afraid of them, and I am concentrating on extricating myself from the evil paths I have followed. . . . It is true that from these studies I have retained many expressions that are useful to know, but all of this can be learned elsewhere than in such frivolous literature and children should be led down less dangerous paths. But who dares resist you, you cursed torrent of custom! Is it not to follow your course that I was made to read the story of Jupiter who simultaneously held the thunderbolt and committed adultery? We know that this cannot be reconciled, but with the help of this false thunderbolt we reduce the horror inspired by adultery and encourage young people to imitate the actions of a criminal god. And notwithstanding this, oh infernal torrent, every child is cast into your waters, and this culpable custom is made into a great event. This is carried out publicly under the gaze of magistrates for an agreed salary. . . . It is the wine of error that drunken teachers offered us in our childhood; they chastised us when we refused to drink it and we could not appeal against their sentence to any judge who was not as drunk as they were. My soul was thus the prey of impure minds, for there is not just one way of offering sacrifice to devils.54 Adds the Catholic article, are not this eloquent lamentation, this bitter criticism, these unbending reproaches, these touching regrets, and this judicious advice as relevant to our century as to the century for which Saint Augustine was writing? Have we not retained in the name of classical education the same system of study against which Saint Augustine speaks out with such force? Has this torrent of paganism not flooded the world? Do we not cast thousands of children into its waters each year, children who lose their faith, their code of behavior, human feelings and dignity, their love of freedom, and a knowledge of their rights and duties, and who emerge imbued with false ideas of paganism, its false moral code, and its virtues no less than with its vices and profound scorn for humanity? And this frightful moral disorder does not arise from the corruption of individual will abandoned to its own devices. No, it is imposed by law through the mechanism of university degrees. M. de Montalembert himself, while regretting that the study of the literature of the ancient world was not sufficiently intense, quoted the reports of university inspectors and deans. They were unanimous in recording the resistance, and I would almost say revolt, of public feeling against such an absurd and disastrous tyranny. All note that French young people calculate with mathematical accuracy what they are obliged to learn and what they are allowed not to know in terms of classical studies, and they stop just at the limit at which they will gain their required grades. Is this also true of other branches of human knowledge, and is it not common knowledge that, for ten places, there are a hundred candidates, all of whom have degrees superior to those required for the courses? Let the legislator therefore take into account public reason and current views. Is it a savage, a tribesman from the Vosges or one of the Gepids, who would dare to speak up here? Does he fail to see the supreme beauty of the literary monuments bequeathed to us by the ancient world or the services rendered to the cause of civilization by Greek democracies? Certainly not; he would not fail to repeat that he was not requiring the law to ban but just not to impose. Let it leave citizens free. They would be capable of recasting history in its true colors, admiring what is worthy of admiration, attenuating that which warrants scorn, and freeing themselves of the classical conventionalism that is the disastrous scourge of modern society. Under the influence of freedom, natural sciences, and secular literature, Christianity and paganism will be able to occupy their rightful share in education; and in this way, harmony, which is the condition for the establishment of order in both consciences and society, will be established between ideas, the code of behavior, and personal interest. Liberty, Equality55Words have their changing fortunes just as men do. Here are two that man has made divine or cursed in turn, so that it is very difficult for philosophers to speak about them calmly. There was a time when he who dared to examine the sacred syllables would have risked his head, since examination implies doubt or the possibility of doubt. Today, on the contrary, it is not prudent to mention them in a certain place, and that place is the one from which the laws that govern France are issued! Thank heaven I have to deal only with liberty and equality from the economic point of view. That being so, I hope that the title of this chapter will not have too painful an effect on the reader’s nerves. But how has it happened that the word liberty sometimes makes hearts beat faster, arouses enthusiasm in peoples, and is the signal for actions of the utmost heroism, while in other circumstances it appears to emerge from the hoarse throats of the populace only to spread discouragement and terror far and wide? Doubtless it does not always have the same meaning and does not whip up the same idea. I cannot stop myself believing that our entirely Roman education has something to do with this anomaly. . . . For many years, the word liberty has struck our young ears, bearing a meaning that cannot be adjusted to modern behavior. We make it the synonym of national supremacy abroad and of a certain equity at home for the sharing of conquered loot. This sharing was in effect a great subject of dissent between the Roman people and the Senate and, when this dissent is recited, our young people always take the side of the people. Thus it is that the combats between the Forum and liberty end by forming an indissoluble association of ideas in our minds. To be free is to struggle and the region of liberty is that of storms. . . . Were we not slow to leave school to thunder in public places against foreign savages and avaricious nobles? How can liberty when understood this way fail to be in turn an object of enthusiasm or terror for a working population? . . . Peoples have been and are still so oppressed that they have not been able to achieve liberty except through struggle. They resign themselves to it when they feel oppression clearly, and they surround the defenders of liberty with their homage and gratitude. However, the struggle is oft en long and bloody, a blend of triumphs and defeats; it can generate scourges that are worse than oppression. . . . When this happens, the people, tired of combat, feel the need to draw breath. They turn against the men who exact from them sacrifices beyond their strength and start to doubt the magic word in the name of which they are being deprived of security and even liberty. . . . Although struggle is necessary to achieve liberty, let us not forget that liberty is not a struggle, any more than soldiers presenting arms is a maneuver. Writers, politicians, and speakers imbued with the Roman philosophy make this mistake. The masses do not. Combat for its own sake repels them, and it is in this that they justify the profound saying: There is someone with more wit than the witty, and this person is everyone. . . . A common fund of ideas links the words liberty, equality, property, and security to one another. Liberty, whose etymology is weights and scales, implies the ideas of justice, equality, harmony, and balance, which excludes combat and which is exactly the opposite of the Roman interpretation. On the other hand, liberty is generalized property. Do my faculties belong to me if I am not free to make use of them, and is not slavery the most total negation of property as it is of liberty? Finally, liberty is security, since security is also property that is guaranteed not only in the present but also in the future. Since the Romans, and I stress this, lived from plunder and cherished liberty, since they had slaves and cherished liberty, it is clear that the idea of liberty was in their eyes in no way incompatible with the ideas of theft and slavery. This must therefore be true of all our generations who have been to school, and these are the ones who are governing the world. In their minds the ownership of the product of our faculties or the ownership of the faculties themselves has nothing to do with liberty and is an asset that is infinitely less precious. For this reason theoretical attacks on property scarcely move them. Far from it; so long as the laws go about this with a certain symmetry and with an aim that is overtly philanthropic, this form of communism attracts them. . . . You should not believe that these ideas disappear when the first fires of youth die down and when you have grown out of the urge to upset the tranquillity of the city as the Roman tribunes used to do, when you have had the good fortune to take part in four or five insurrections and have ended up choosing a state, working, and acquiring property. No, these ideas do not pass away. Doubtless, people value their property and defend it with energy but take little account of the property of others. If it is a case of violating it, provided that this is carried out through the intervention of the law, they have not the slightest scruple in doing so. The concern of us all is to curry favor with the law, to attempt to put ourselves in its good graces, and if it smiles on us we ask it quickly to violate the property or the liberty of others for our benefit. This is done with charming naïveté, not only by those who proclaim themselves to be communists or communitarians but also by those who claim to be fervent devotees of property, by those who are roused to fury by the mere mention of the word communism, by brokers, manufacturers, shipowners, and even by the archetypal property owners, those who own land. . . . 12Protectionism and Communism[vol. 4, p. 504. “Protectionisme et communisme.” January 1849. This article is Bastiat’s response to Adolphe Thiers’s book De la propriété, which appeared in the fall of 1848. n.p.] To M. Thiers1 Sir, Do not be ungrateful to the February revolution. It surprised you, offended you perhaps, but it also prepared you as an author, orator, and privy councillor2 for unexpected triumphs. Among these successes, there is one that is certainly very extraordinary. In the last few days the following appeared in La Presse: “The association for the defense of national work (formerly the Mimerel Committee) has just sent a circular to all its correspondents to announce that a subscription had been set up to support the distribution in the workshops of M. Thiers’s book on property. The association itself is buying five thousand copies.” I would have liked to have been present when your eyes saw this flattering announcement. A flash of malicious joy must have shone in them. It is very true to say that the ways of God are as unerring as they are mysterious. For if you are ready for a moment to agree that when it is generalized, protectionism becomes communism (something which I will shortly endeavor to demonstrate), just as carp fry become adult carp provided that God keeps them alive, it is already very strange that a champion of protectionism poses as a destroyer of communism; but what is even more strange and consoling is that a powerful association, which was formed to propagate the communist principle both theoretically and practically (to the extent that the association considered it profitable for its members), should now devote half of its resources to destroy the evil that it has done with the other half. I repeat, this is a consoling sight. It reassures us that the truth will inevitably triumph, since it reveals that the first and true propagators of subversive doctrines, terrified by their success, are now concocting both the antidote to the poison and the poison in the same dispensary. It is true that the latter assumes that the communist and prohibitionist principles are identical, and perhaps you do not accept this identity, although to tell the truth I cannot think it possible that you could have written four hundred pages on property without being struck by this. Perhaps you think that a little effort devoted to commercial freedom or rather free trade, impatience with sterile discussion, the ardor of combat, and the energy of the struggle have shown me the errors of my adversaries under a magnifying glass, as happens only too oft en to us polemicists. Doubtless it is my imagination that is inflating the theory of Le Moniteur industriel to the dimensions of that of Le Populaire, in order to more easily be right about it. Is it likely that major manufacturers, honest landowners, rich bankers, and clever statesmen unwittingly and unintentionally made themselves the initiators and apostles of communism in France? Why not, may I ask? There are many workers, brimming with a sincere belief in the right to work, who are consequently communists without knowing it or wishing it and who would not allow people to consider them such. The fact is that in all classes interest directs the will, and the will, as Pascal said, is the major organ of credit. Under another name, many industrialists, highly honest people incidentally, treat communism as it is always treated, that is to say, on the condition that only other people’s property will be shared out. But as soon as this principle is gaining ground and it becomes a matter of releasing their own assets to be shared out, then, oh dear! communism repels them! They distributed Le Moniteur industriel, and now they are distributing the book on property. To be surprised by this, you would need to have no knowledge of the human heart and its secret recesses and of how easily it makes itself a skillful deceiver. No, sir, it is not the heat of the struggle that has caused me to see the prohibitionist doctrine in this light, since, on the contrary, it is because I saw it in this light before the struggle that I became involved.3 Please believe me, expanding our foreign trade a little, an incidental result that is certainly not to be sniffed at, has never been my decisive reason for this. I believed and still believe that property is involved in this question. I believed and still believe that our customs duties, because of the spirit in which they were drawn up and the arguments used to defend them, have made a breach in the very principle of property through which all the rest of our legislation threatens to drive. Considering the state of people’s minds, it seemed to me that a form of communism that—I have to say this to be fair—is unaware of itself and its effects was about to overwhelm us. It seemed to me that this form of communism (for there are several forms) was taking advantage very logically of the prohibitionist arguments and limiting itself to insisting on its implications. It is therefore in this domain that I considered it useful to combat this form of communism, since it was arming itself with the sophisms put about by the Mimerel Committee and since there was no hope of overcoming this form of communism as long as these sophisms were left unrefuted and triumphant in the public outlook. It is from this point of view that we took our stance in Bordeaux, Paris, Marseilles, and Lyons when we founded the Association pour la liberté des échanges (free-trade association). Commercial freedom, considered in its own right, is doubtless a precious asset for nations, but all in all if we had had only this in view, we would have given our association the title of Association for Commercial Freedom, or even more politically apposite, for the gradual reform of duties. But the term free trade implies the freedom to dispose of the fruits of your work, in other words, property, and this is the reason that we preferred it.4 Of course we knew that this term would raise difficulties. It affirmed a principle, and this being so it was bound to cause all the advocates of the opposing principle to join the ranks of our opponents. What is more, it was extremely repugnant to people, even those best disposed to support us, that is to say, the merchants, who were then more concerned with reforming the tariffs than overcoming communism. Le Havre, while sympathizing with our views, refused to come under our banner. People everywhere told me, “We are more likely to obtain a lessening of the duties on our products by not parading absolute demands.” I replied, “If this is your sole view, take action through your Chambers of Commerce.” I was also told, “The term free trade terrifies and makes success less likely.” This was perfectly true, but I drew my strongest argument for its adoption from the very fear conjured up by this term. The more it terrifies people, I said, the more it proves that the notion of property is losing its hold in people’s minds. The prohibitionist doctrine has distorted ideas, and distorted ideas have produced protectionism. Obtaining an accidental improvement in customs duties by stealth or the goodwill of the minister is to alleviate an effect, not destroy the cause. I therefore continued to use the term free trade, not out of spite but because of the obstacles that it was bound to create for us, obstacles that revealed the sickness of people’s minds and thus proved beyond doubt that the very foundations of social order were being threatened. It was not enough to indicate our aim by means of a term; the term needed to be defined. That is what we did, and I quote here, as supporting evidence, the first act or manifesto of this association: At the time of joining forces to defend a great cause, the undersigned feel the need to set out their beliefs and to proclaim the aim, limits, means, and spirit of their association. Trade is a natural right like property. Any citizen who has created or acquired a product must have the option of either using it immediately or selling it to another person on the earth’s surface who is free to give him in exchange the object of his preference. Depriving him of this faculty, when he has not used it to contravene public order and proper behavior, and solely to satisfy the convenience of another citizen, is to legitimize plunder and contravene the law of justice. It also violates the conditions of order, since what order can there be within a society in which each branch of production, supported by the law and public forces, seeks its success through the oppression of all the others? This is to misunderstand the providential design which rules human destiny as shown in the infinite variety of climate, seasons, and natural forces and the aptitudes and goods that God has so unequally shared out between men with the sole aim of uniting them through trade in the bonds of universal fraternity. It is to oppose the development of public prosperity, since he who is not free to trade is not free to choose his work and is obliged to give a false orientation to his efforts, faculties, capital, and the agents nature has made available to him. Last, it is to compromise peace between nations since it disrupts the relationships that unite them and that make wars impossible by making them too costly. The aim of the Association is therefore la liberté des échanges. The undersigned do not contest the right of society to establish taxes on goods that cross the border in order to cover common expenditure, provided that they are determined solely in view of the needs of the treasury. However, as soon as the tax loses its fiscal character and aims to repel foreign goods, to the detriment of the tax system itself, in order to raise the price of a similar national product artificially and thus hold the community to ransom for the benefit of a particular group, protectionism or rather plunder instantly becomes manifest and this is the principle the Association aims utterly to discredit in people’s minds and remove totally from our laws, independently of any form of reciprocity and arrangements in force elsewhere. Although the Association is pursuing the total destruction of the protectionist regime, it does not follow that it is asking for a reform of this nature to be achieved overnight and result from a single vote. Even to retrace one’s steps from evil to good and from an artificial state of affairs to a natural situation, precautions may be required as a matter of prudence. Such details of execution are part of the powers of the state; the mission of the Association is to spread knowledge of and popularize the principle. As for the means it intends to use, it will never seek these elsewhere than in constitutional and legal avenues. Last, the Association is independent of all political parties. It is at the service of no industry, sector, or part of the national territory. It embraces the cause of eternal justice, peace, union, free communication, and fraternity among all men and the cause of general interest, which is confused everywhere and in all aspects with that of the public as a consumer. Is there one word in this manifesto that does not reveal a burning desire to strengthen or even reestablish the notion of property, corrupted by a regime of restriction, in people’s minds? Is it not plain that in the manifesto commercial interest is secondary and social interest primary? Note that the duty in itself, whether good or bad from an administrative or fiscal point of view, is of little concern to us. But as soon as it acts intentionally in a protectionist manner, that is to say, as soon as it reveals a tendency to plunder and the negation in principle of the right to property, we fight against it, not as a customs duty but as a system. It is the idea of this system, we argue, that we are endeavoring to discredit utterly in people’s minds in order to make it disappear from our laws. Doubtless the question will be asked why, with regard to a general matter of this importance, we have limited the struggle to the domain of a specific question. The reason is simple. It was necessary to oppose one association by another and recruit interests and soldiers into our army. We were fully aware that between prohibitionists and free traders the polemic could not be prolonged without its shaking up and finally resolving all the moral, political, philosophical, and economic questions that relate to property, and since the Mimerel Committee had compromised this principle by pursuing just one specific aim, we had to hope to raise the principle by pursuing in our turn the specific and opposing aim. But what does it matter what I may have said or thought in previous times? What does it matter that I may have glimpsed or thought that I had glimpsed a certain link between protectionism and communism? The essential is to know whether this link exists. That is what I am going to examine. Doubtless you remember the day when, with your natural skill, you caused M. Proudhon to utter this admission that has become famous: “Give me the right to work and I will yield you the right of property.” M. Proudhon did not hide that in his view these two rights are incompatible. If property is incompatible with the right to work and if the right to work is based on the same principle as protectionism, what ought we to conclude other than that protectionism is itself incompatible with property? In geometry, it is held to be an incontrovertible truth that two entities equal to a third are equal to each other. However, it has happened that an eminent orator, M. Billault, believed it to be his duty to support the right to work on the rostrum. This was not easy in view of the admission let slip by M. Proudhon. M. Billaultfully understood that having the state intervene to equalize wealth and level situations was to embark on the slippery slope to communism, and what did he say to persuade the National Assembly to violate the whole basis of property? He simply told you that what he was asking you to do you were already doing through your customs duties. His claim does not go beyond a somewhat wide application of doctrines that are accepted and applied by you. These are his words: Cast a glance on our customs duties. Through their prohibitions, differential taxes, subsidies, and various arrangements, society is helping, supporting, slowing down, or speeding up all the forms of national work [very good]. Society not only holds the balance between French work, which it protects, and foreign work, but in our homeland various forms of industry still see it constantly intervening between them. Listen to the never-ending claims before the courts by one industry against another, for example, industries that use iron complaining against the protection given to French iron against foreign iron, those that use flax or spun cotton protesting against the protection given to French yarn against foreign yarn, and so on. Society [he should have said the government] thus finds itself closely involved in all the struggles and difficulties of work. It actively intervenes in it on a daily basis both directly and indirectly, and the first time you have customs problems you will see that whether you like it or not you will be obliged both to take sides and sort out the rights of each of the interests. The argument that it is the debt owed by society to destitute workers that causes the government to intervene in the question of work is therefore not a valid one. And please note that in his argumentation, M. Billault had no thought of subjecting you to bitter irony. He is not a free trader in disguise taking pleasure in making the lack of consistency of the protectionists palpable. No, M. Billault is himself a bona fide protectionist. He aspires to having wealth leveled by the law. To this end, he considers the action of customs duties useful, and when he encounters the right to property as an obstacle he leaps over it, just as you do. He is then shown the right to work, which is a second step in the same direction. He next encounters the obstacle of the rights of property and leaps over it once more. However, on turning around, he is totally surprised to see that you are no longer following him. He asks you why. If you reply: I accept in principle that the law may violate property, but I find it inconvenient for it to do this under the guise of the right to work, M. Billault would understand you and would discuss with you this secondary question of opportuneness. But you counter him with the actual principle of property. This surprises him and he thinks he has the right to say to you: Do not play the good apostle now, and if you reject the right to work, let it at least not be by basing yourself on the rights of property, since you are violating this right by means of your customs duties whenever it suits you. He might add with good reason: Through protectionist duties you oft en violate the property of the poor for the benefit of the rich. Through the right to work you will be violating the property of the rich for the benefit of the poor. By what misfortune have you been overcome by scruples this late in the day?5 Between M. Billault and you, therefore, there is just one difference. Both of you are treading the same path, that of communism. The only thing is that you have taken one step and he has taken two. In this respect, in my view at least, you have the advantage. However, you lose it from the point of view of logic. For since, like him, you are walking with your back turned from property, it is amusing to say the least that you pose as its champion. This is an inconsistency that M. Billault has been able to avoid. But alas! It is only for him to fall in turn into a depressing battle of words! M. Billault is too enlightened not to sense, at least dimly, the danger of each of his steps along a path that leads to communism. He does not lay himself open to ridicule by posing as the champion of property just when he is violating it, but how does he think of justifying himself? He invokes the favorite axiom of those who want to reconcile two irreconcilable things: There are no principles. Property, communism, let us take a bit from anywhere we choose depending on the circumstances. In my view, the pendulum of civilization, which swings from one principle to the other depending on the needs of the moment, but which always records a step forward, will return to the need for government action after strongly inclining toward the absolute freedom of individualism. There is therefore nothing new under the sun; there are no principles since the pendulum has to swing from one principle to the other depending on the needs of the moment. Oh, metaphor! Where would you lead us if we gave you your head!6 As you so judiciously said from the rostrum, not everything can be said, and still less written, all at once. It should be clearly understood that I am not examining here the economic aspect of the protectionist regime. I am not looking to see whether, from the point of view of national wealth, it does more good than harm or more harm than good. The only point I wish to prove is that it is nothing other than a manifestation of communism. MM Billault and Proudhon have begun the demonstration. I will try to complete it. First of all, what is meant by communism? There are several ways, if not of achieving communality of property, at least of trying to achieve it. M. de Lamartine counted four. You think that there are at least a thousand, and I agree with you. However, I think that they can all be divided into three general categories, of which just one, in my opinion, is genuinely dangerous. First of all, two or more men can envisage pooling their work and lifestyle. As long as they do not seek to infringe security, restrict freedom, or usurp the property of others, either directly or indirectly, if they do harm, they harm themselves. The tendency of these men will always be to achieve their dreams in distant deserts. Anyone who has thought about these things knows that those who are unfortunate will perish in torment, the victims of their illusions. In these days communists of this type have called their illusionary Elysian Fields Icaria,7 as if they had had the gloomy premonition of the terrible outcome to which they were being driven. We must weep for their blindness and should warn them if they were likely to listen to us, but society has nothing to fear from their illusions. Another form of communism, and decidedly the most brutal, is this: make a heap of all the assets that exist and share them out ex aequo.8 This is plunder that has become a dominant and universal rule. It is the destruction not only of property but also of work and the very motivation that stimulates men to work. This form of communism is so violent, absurd, and monstrous that in truth I cannot really think it is dangerous. This is what I said some time ago to a large assembly of voters, the majority of whom belonged to the suffering classes. An outburst of murmuring greeted my words. I showed surprise. “What!” it was said; “M. Bastiat dares to say that communism is not dangerous! He must be a communist! Well, we thought as much, since communists, socialists, and economists are all tarred with the same brush as the rhyme shows.” I had some trouble extricating myself from this fix. But this very interruption proved the truth of my statement. No, communism is not dangerous in its most naïve form, that of pure and simple plunder; it is not dangerous when it causes dread. I hasten to say that while protectionism may and should be assimilated to communism, it is not to the form I have just described. But communism also has a third form. Causing the state to intervene, giving it the mission of evening out profits and balancing wealth by taking from some without their consent in order to give to others with no retribution, making it responsible for carrying out the work of leveling through plunder, this is definitely communism. Neither the procedures practiced by the state to do this nor the fine names used to adorn this idea change this. Whether direct or indirect means are used to achieve this, through restriction or taxes, through customs duties or the right to work, whether equality, solidarity, or fraternity is invoked, this does not change the nature of things. Plundering property is no less plunder because it is accomplished legally, in an orderly fashion, systematically, and through the implementation of the law. I add that this is the form of communism that is truly dangerous in our time. Why? Because in this form we see it always ready to invade everything. And look! One person asks the state to supply the tools of their trade free of charge to artisans and workers; this is inviting it to seize them from other artisans and workers. Another wants the state to lend interest free; it cannot do this without violating property. A third claims free education at all levels. Free! That means at taxpayers’ expense. A fourth demands that the state subsidize associations of workers, theaters, artists, etc. But such subsidies embody an equal level of income withheld from those who have legitimately earned it. A fifth will not rest until the state has artificially raised the price of a product for the benefit of those selling it, but this is to the disadvantage of those who buy it. Yes, in these terms there are very few people who in one way or another are not communists. You are one, M. Billault is one, and I fear that in France we are all such to a greater or lesser extent. It seems as though intervention by the state reconciles us with plunder by attributing responsibility for it to everyone, that is to say, to no one, with the result that people can enjoy the property of others with a perfectly clear conscience. Did not the honest M. Tourret, one of the most upright men to sit on a ministerial bench, start his exposition of the reasons for the draft law on advance payments to agriculture in this way: “It is not enough to give education to encourage the arts; it is also necessary to provide the tools of the trade”? Following this preamble, he submitted to the National Assembly a draft law whose first article went as follows: Article I: In the 1849 budget, a credit of ten million has been opened for the minister of agriculture and trade, intended to make advance payments to landowners and associations of owners of rural assets. Admit that if legislative language were concerned with accuracy, this article should have been drafted thus: During 1849 the minister of agriculture and trade is authorized to take ten million from the pockets of workers who have great need of it and to whom it belongs in order to put it in the pockets of other workers who also need it and to whom it does not belong. Is this not a communist act, and when generalized does it not constitute communism? Take a manufacturer who would die rather than steal a sous. He does not have the slightest scruple in submitting the following request to the legislature: “Enact a law that raises the price of my cloth, iron, or coal and makes it possible for me to hold my purchasers to ransom.” Since the reason on which he bases his request is that he is not happy with his profit as provided by freedom to trade or free trade (which I state is the same thing, whatever people say),9 and since we are all discontented with our profit and inclined to call upon the legislature, it is clear, at least to me, that if the legislature does not hasten to say, “That is none of my business; I am not responsible for violating property but for guaranteeing it,” I say that we are clearly in the throes of communism. The means of implementation used by the state may differ, but they all have the same aim and follow the same principle. Supposing that I come to the bar of the National Assembly and say, I carry out a trade and do not think that my profit is sufficient. For this reason, I ask you to issue a decree that authorizes the tax collectors to exact just one little centime from each family in France for my benefit. If the legislature accepts my request, it could be seen as just an isolated example of legal plunder, which is not enough to warrant being called communism. However, if every Frenchman, one after another, made the same request, and if the legislature examined these requests with the avowed aim of achieving equality of wealth, it is in this principle and its effects that I see, and you will not fail to see, communism. That the legislature makes use of customs officers and tax collectors, direct or indirect taxation, or restrictions or premiums to put its ideas into practice is of little importance. Does it consider itself entitled to take and to give without compensation? Does it think that its mission is to balance profits? Does it act in accordance with this belief? Does the majority of the public approve and encourage this method of acting? In this case, I say that we are on the downward slope to communism, whether we are aware of this or not. And if I am told: “The state is not acting in favor of everyone, but only in favor of a few sectors,” I will answer: “It has then found the means to make communism itself worse still.” I am aware, sir, that doubt can be cast on these deductions by creating confusion of a very facile sort. People will quote quite legitimate administrative facts, cases in which state intervention is as equitable as it is useful; then, establishing an apparent analogy between these cases and those against which I am protesting, they will put me in the wrong and they will tell me: “Either you ought not to see communism in protectionism or you ought to see it in all government action.” This is a trap into which I do not wish to fall. For this reason I am obliged to look for the exact circumstance that confers a communist character on state intervention. What is the purpose of the state? Which matters ought citizens to entrust to collective compulsion? Which ought they to reserve to private activity? Answering these questions would be to give a course in politics. Fortunately, I do not need to do this to solve the problem that concerns us. When citizens, instead of providing a service to themselves, transform it into a public service, that is to say, when they consider it apposite to pool resources to have work done or to procure joint satisfaction for themselves, I do not call this communism, since I do not see in it the element that gives the latter its special character: leveling through plunder. It is true that the state takes through taxation but gives back by means of services. This is a particular but legitimate form of the basis of all types of society: exchange. I will go further. By entrusting a particular service to the state, citizens may be doing something that is an advantage or a disadvantage. It is advantageous if, by this means, the service is provided better or cheaper. It is disadvantageous if it is not, but in none of these cases do I see the principle of communism. In the first case the citizens have succeeded, and in the second they have made a mistake, but that is all, and while communism is an error it does not follow that every error is the result of communism. In general, economists are very distrustful of government intervention. They see in it all sorts of disadvantages: a downgrading of freedom, energy, foresight, and individual experience, which are the most valuable bases of society. It oft en happens, therefore, that they oppose such intervention. But it is not at all from this point of view and for this reason that they reject protectionism. Let no one therefore use as an argument against us our predilection, which is perhaps too pronounced, for freedom; and let no one say: “It is not surprising that these men reject the protectionist regime since they reject state intervention in everything.” First of all, it is not true that we reject it in everything. We allow that it is the state’s mission to maintain order and security, to ensure respect for people and property, and to curb fraud and violence. As for the services whose sphere is, so to say, production, we have no other rule than this: Let the state be responsible for it if there is a proven economizing of resources for the masses. But for goodness’ sake, in calculating this include all the innumerable disadvantages of work monopolized by the state. Then, I am bound to repeat, it is one thing to vote against a new function given to the state on the basis that, all things being considered, it is a disadvantage and constitutes a national loss; it is quite another thing to vote against this new function because it is illegitimate and plunderous and because it grants to the government a new mission to do precisely what its original mission was designed to prevent and punish. Well, we hold against what is called the protectionist regime both these types of objection, but the second outweighs the first by far in our determination to wage a bitter war on it, of course by legal means. Thus, for example, let people submit to a local council the question of whether it is better to allow each family to collect its water requirements a quarter of a league away or whether it is preferable for the authority to levy a subscription to bring the water to the village square. I would have no objection in principle to an examination of this question. The calculation of the advantages and disadvantages for all would be the sole element in the decision. A mistake may be made in the calculation, but the error itself, though it would lead to a loss of property, would not constitute a systematic violation of that property. But should the mayor propose to ride roughshod over one enterprise for the benefit of another, to forbid clogs in order to benefit shoemakers or something similar, then I would tell him that it was no longer a calculation of advantages and disadvantages: it would be political corruption and an abusive hijacking of public compulsion. I would say to him, “You who are the trustee of public authority and power to punish plunder, how do you dare to apply them to the protection and systematic operation of plunder?” Should the mayor’s intention triumph, if I were to see as a result of this precedent all the businesses in the village agitating to solicit favors at the expense of each other, and if in the midst of this noisy and unscrupulous ambition I see the very notion of property sink without trace, I would be free to think that, to save it from shipwreck, the first thing to do would be to point out what was iniquitous in the measure that was the initial link in this abominable chain. It would not be difficult, sir, for me to find passages in your book that agree with my subject and are in line with my views. To tell the truth, I would have only to open it at random. Yes, harking back to a children’s game, if I stick a pin into this book, I would find on the page selected by fate an implicit or explicit condemnation of the protectionist regime and proof that this regime is in principle identical with communism. And why should I not demonstrate this proof? Here I go. The pin has selected page 283; on it I read: It is therefore a serious error to attack competition and not to have seen that while the nation is a producer, it is also a consumer, and that if it receives less on the one hand (which I deny and you will deny it yourselves a few lines further down) and pays less on the other, there remains, for the benefit of all, the difference between a system that restrains human activity with a system that urges it ever forward down the path, telling it never to stop. I challenge you to say that this does not apply just as much to the competition that takes place above the Bidassoa10 as to that which occurs above the Loire. Let us make another stab with the pin. That’s it; here we are, on page 325. Rights either exist or they do not. If they exist, they lead to absolute consequences. . . . There is something else: if the right exists, it exists at all times; it is fully operational today, yesterday, tomorrow, the day after, in summer as in winter, not when it suits you to declare it valid but whenever it suits the worker to invoke it. Would you claim that an ironmaster has an indefinite and perpetual right to prevent me from indirectly producing two hundredweight of iron in my workplace, which is a vineyard, for the advantage to him of directly producing just one in his factory, which is a forge? This right also exists or it does not. If it exists, it is fully operational today, yesterday, tomorrow, the day after, in summer as in winter, not when it suits you to declare it valid but whenever it suits the ironmaster to invoke it! Let us tempt fate again. It has selected page 63, on which I read the following aphorism: Property does not exist if I cannot give it away as well as consume it. We, for our part, say: “Property does not exist if I cannot trade it as well as consume it.” And allow me to add that the right to exchange is at least as precious, as socially important, and as characteristic of property as the right to give it away. It is to be regretted that in a book intended to examine property from every angle, you thought it necessary to devote two chapters to giving, which is not in danger, and not one line to exchange, which is so shamelessly violated under the very authority of the laws of the country. Another jab of the pin. Oh! It brings us to page 47. The first property owned by man lies in his person and faculties. There is a second, less close to his being but not less sacred, in the product of these faculties that embraces everything known as his worldly goods and that society has the greatest interest in guaranteeing him, since without this guarantee there would be no work, and without work, no civilization, not even the necessities but deprivation, plunder, and barbarity. Well, sir, let us elaborate on this text, if you will. Like you, I see property first in the free disposal of man’s person, followed by his faculties and finally the product of these faculties, which proves, let it be said in passing, that from a certain point of view freedom and property merge. I would scarcely dare to say, like you, that the ownership of the product of our faculties is less closely linked to our being than that of the faculties themselves. Physically this is unquestionable, but if a man is deprived of his faculties or their products, the result is the same, and this result is known as slavery—a fresh proof of the natural identity of freedom and property. If I use force to appropriate all the work of a man for my benefit, this man is my slave. He is also my slave if, while letting him work freely, I find a way through force or guile to take possession of the fruit of his work. The first type of oppression is more odious, the second cleverer. Since it is a known fact that work done freely is more intelligent and productive, the masters have said to themselves, “Let us not usurp the faculties of our slaves directly, but let us seize the richer product of their faculties operating freely and give this new form of servitude the fine title of protection.” You also say that society has an interest in guaranteeing property. We agree; the only thing is that I go further than you, and if by society you mean the government, I say that its sole duty with regard to property is to guarantee it; if the government attempts to level property, the government is by this very action violating property instead of guaranteeing it. This is worth examining. When a certain number of men who cannot live without work and property pool their resources to pay for a common force, obviously their aim is to work and enjoy the fruit of their work in total security and not to put their faculties and property at the mercy of this force. Even if no government, properly called, has yet formed, I do not believe that individual persons can have their right to defense—that is, the right to defend their persons, faculties, and property—challenged. Without claiming to philosophize here on the origin and extent of the prerogatives of governments, a huge subject very likely to daunt me in my weakness, I ask that you allow me to put an idea before you. It seems to me that the prerogatives of the state can consist only in the codification of preexisting personal rights. For my part, I cannot conceive of a collective right that is not rooted in individual right and does not presuppose it. Therefore, to know whether the state is legitimately endowed with a right, the question must be asked whether this right exists in individuals by virtue of their organization and in the absence of any form of government. It is on the basis of this idea that I rejected the right to work a few days ago. I said, “Since Peter does not have the right to force Paul directly to give him work, he is no more entitled to exercise this alleged right through the intervention of the state, since the state is only the common force created by Peter and Paul at their expense with a clear aim, which can never be to make something just that is not just. This is the touchstone I use to judge between the guarantee and the leveling of property by the state. Why has the state the right to guarantee everyone his property, even by force? Because this right preexists in each individual. The right of legitimate defense of individual entities, the right to employ force if need be to repel attacks directed against their persons, faculties, and assets, cannot be challenged. It is accepted that, since it is within each citizen, this individual right can take a collective form and make the common force legitimate. And why should the state not have the right to level property? Because in order to do so it has to take away from some and give to others. Well, since none of the thirty million French citizens have the right to take by force on the pretext of achieving equality, it is difficult to see how they can invest this right in the common force. And note that the prerogative of leveling is destructive of the right of guarantee. Take savages. They have not yet founded a government. But each of them has the right of legitimate defense, and it is not difficult to see that this is the right that will become the basis of the legitimate common force. If one of these savages has devoted his time, energy, and intelligence to making himself a bow and arrow and another wishes to steal these from him, the entire sympathy of the tribe will be with the victim, and if the cause is brought before the elders to be judged, the plunderer will unfailingly be condemned. Only one step further is needed to organize a common force. But, I ask you, has this force the task, at least the legitimate one, of regularizing the act of him who defends his property as of right, or the act of him who violates the property of others in defiance of this right? It would be very strange if the collective force were to be based not on individual right but on its constant and systematic violation! No, the author of the book I have before me cannot be supporting a thesis like this. But it is not enough for the author not to support the thesis; he ought perhaps to have contested it. It is not enough to attack this crude and absurd form of communism, which a few sectarians advocate in leaflets that are decried. It might have been a good thing to unveil and stigmatize this other bold and subtle form of communism, which by simply corrupting the just notion of the prerogatives of the state has insinuated itself into some of the branches of our legislation and threatens to invade them all. For, sir, it is really unquestionable that by operating the customs duties, through the so-called protectionist regime, governments are carrying out the monstrosity of which I have just spoken. They are deserting the right of legitimate defense that preexists in each citizen and is the source and reason of their own purpose, in order to appropriate an alleged right to level through plunder, a right that previously resided in no one and thus cannot exist communally either. But what is the use of stressing these general ideas? What is the use of demonstrating here the absurdity of communism since you have done this yourself (except for one of its manifestations, and in my view the most threatening in practice) much better than I am able to do? Perhaps you will tell me that the principle of the protectionist regime does not oppose the principle of property. Let us look at the procedures of this regime. There are two of these: subsidies11 and restrictions. With regard to the subsidy, this is evident. I dare to challenge anyone to claim that the last stage of the system of premiums, taken to its limit, is not absolute communism. Citizens work in the shelter of the common force, which is responsible, as you say, for guaranteeing to each his own, suum cuique. But now the state with the most philanthropic intentions in the world is undertaking a quite new and different task, which in my view is not just exclusive but destructive of the first. It is pleased to make itself the judge of profit, to decide which activities are not being remunerated enough and which get too much. It is pleased to set itself up as the leveler and, as M. Billault says, to swing the pendulum of civilization to the opposite side from freedom and individualism. As a result, it is levying a contribution from the entire community to hand out presents in the form of premiums to the exporters of a particular type of product. Its claim is to be encouraging industry. It should say one industry at the expense of all the others. I will not stop at showing that it stimulates suckers at the expense of fruit-bearing branches, but I ask you, by going down this path, is it not authorizing every producer to come forward to claim a premium as long as he provides proof that he does not have as much income as his neighbor? Has the state the proper function of listening to and assessing all these requests and acceding to them? I do not think so, but those who believe this must have the courage to clothe their thought in its controlling detail and to say: “The government is not responsible for guaranteeing property but for leveling it. In other words, property does not exist.” I am dealing here only with a question of principle. If I wanted to scrutinize the economic effects of subsidies for exports, I would show them in their most ridiculous light since they are just a free gift made by France to foreigners. It is not the sellers who receive it but the purchaser by virtue of this law that you yourself have noted in connection with taxes: the consumer finally bears all the charges, just as he receives all the advantages of production. For this reason, the most mortifying and mysterious thing possible has happened to us with regard to these premiums. A few foreign governments have reasoned thus: “If we raise our entry duties to a figure equal to the premium paid by French taxpayers, it is clear that nothing will change for our consumers since the cost price for them will be the same. Goods reduced by five francs at the French border will pay five francs more at the German border. This is an infallible way of making the French treasury responsible for our public expenditure.” But other governments, I am assured, have been even more ingenious. They said to themselves, “The premium given by France is really a gift made to us, but if we raise the duty, there is no reason for more of these goods to enter our country than in the past; we ourselves are setting a limit on the generosity of these excellent Frenchmen. On the other hand, let us abolish these duties provisionally; let us encourage an unprecedented influx of their cloth in this way, since each meter brings with it a totally free gift.” In the first case, our premiums have been to the foreign tax authorities; in the second, they have benefited the ordinary citizens but on a wider scale. Let us move on to restriction. I am an artisan, a carpenter, for example. I have a small workshop, tools, and some materials. All of these are unquestionably mine, since I have made them or, what amounts to the same thing, I have purchased and paid for them. What is more, I have vigorous arms, some intelligence, and a great deal of goodwill. These are the funds with which I have to provide for my needs and those of my family. Note that I cannot produce anything that I need directly, whether iron, wood, bread, wine, meat, fabric, etc., but I can produce their value. In the end, these things have, so to say, to emerge in another form from my saw and my plane. My interest is to receive honestly as great a quantity as possible for each quantity of my work. I say “honestly” since I do not wish to violate either the property or the person of anyone. However, I have no wish to see anyone violating either my property or my freedom. I and other workers who agree on this point impose sacrifices on ourselves and give up part of our work to men known as civil servants, since we give them the specific function of guaranteeing our work and its proceeds from all forms of attack, whether from within or from without. With these arrangements in place, I am getting ready to put my intelligence, arms, saw, and plane to work. Naturally, my eyes are constantly fixed on those things that are necessary for my existence. These are the things I have to produce indirectly by creating their value. The problem for me is to produce them as advantageously as possible. Consequently I cast a glance over the world of values, summed up in what is known as the current price. From the data on the current price I note that the means for me to have the greatest possible quantity of fuel, for example, for the smallest quantity of work is to make an item of furniture and deliver it to a Belgian who in return will give me coal. However, there is in France a worker who is looking for coal in the bowels of the earth. It so happens that the civil servants whose salary both the miner and I are contributing to in order for each of us to have our freedom to work and the free disposal of our products maintained (which is property), it so happens, I repeat, that these civil servants have conceived another idea and have given themselves a different purpose. They have decided that they ought to equalize my work and that of the miner. Consequently, they have forbidden me to heat myself with Belgian coal; and when I go to the border with my item of furniture to collect my coal, I find that these civil servants are preventing the coal from entering, which is the same thing as preventing my item of furniture from leaving. I therefore say to myself: “If we had not thought of paying civil servants to spare us the trouble of defending our property ourselves, would the miner have had the right to go to the border and forbid me a profitable trade on the pretext that it is better for him that this trade not be concluded?” Certainly not. If he had made such an unjust attempt, we would have fought on the spot, he driven by his unjust claim and I fired up by my right of legitimate defense. We had cast our votes and paid a civil servant precisely to avoid fights like this. How, therefore, is it that I find the miner and the civil servant in agreement to restrict my freedom and hard work in order to reduce the sphere in which my talents may be exercised? If the civil servant had taken my side, I would understand his right; it would derive from mine, since legitimate defense is a genuine right. But where has he drawn the right to help the miner in his injustice? I learn from all this that the civil servant has changed his role. He is no longer a simple mortal invested with his own rights delegated to him by other men who, in consequence, possessed them. No. He is a being superior to humanity, drawing his rights from himself, and among his rights, he arrogates to himself that of leveling profits and keeping the balance between all forms of position and condition. All very good, say I; in this case I will overwhelm him with claims and requests as soon as I see someone richer than me anywhere in this country. He will not listen to you, I am told, for if he listened to you he would be a communist and he does not forget that his mission is to guarantee property, not to level it. What chaos and confusion reigns in the facts! And how can you expect chaos and confusion not to reign in men’s minds? You may well be fighting against communism; as long as you are seen to accommodate, cherish, and flatter it in that part of the legislation it has invaded, your efforts will be in vain. It is a snake that, with your approval and care, has slipped its head into our laws and behavior, and now you are indignant at seeing its tail show itself in turn! It is possible, sir, that you will make me a concession. Perhaps you will tell me the “protectionist regime is based on the principle of communism. It is contrary to law, property, and freedom. It ejects the government from its path and invests it with arbitrary attributions that have no rational basis. All this is only too true, but the protectionist regime is useful; without it the country would succumb to foreign competition and be ruined.” This would lead us to examine restriction from an economic point of view. Setting aside any consideration of justice, right, equity, property, and freedom, we would have to settle the question of pure utility, the question of what is purchasable, so to speak; and you will agree that this is not my subject. Incidentally, take care that in using utility to justify a contempt for right, you are in effect saying: “Communism, plunder, although condemned by justice, may nevertheless be accepted as being expedient.” And you will agree that an admission like this would be full of danger. Without seeking to solve the economic problem here, I ask you to allow me one assertion. I declare that I have subjected the advantages and disadvantages of protectionism, from the sole point of view of wealth, to arithmetical calculation, setting aside any consideration of a higher order. I also declare that I have reached the following result: that any restrictive measure has one advantage and two disadvantages, or, if you prefer, one profit and two losses, with each of these losses being equal to the profit and thus giving rise to a clear and definite loss, which provides the consoling proof that, in this as in many other things, and I dare say in everything, utility and justice agree. True, this is just a statement, but it can be proved mathematically. What causes public opinion to err on this point is that the profit due to protectionism is visible to the naked eye, whereas of the two equal losses it brings in its wake one is infinitely divided between the citizens and the other is visible only to the eye of an investigative mind. Without claiming to do this demonstration here, I ask you to allow me to outline its basis. Two products, A and B, have a normal value of 50 and 40 in France. Let us suppose that in Belgium A is worth only 40. This being so, if France is subject to a restrictive regime, she will be able to enjoy the use of A and B by diverting a quantity equal to 90 from her total output since she will be reduced to producing A directly. If she were free, this amount of effort, equal to 90, would come to: 1. the production of B, which she would deliver to Belgium to obtain A; 2. the production of another B for herself; and 3. the production of some good C. It is this part of the effort made available in the second case for the subsequent production of C, that is to say the creation of a new good equal to 10, without France thereby being deprived of either A or B, that is difficult to understand. Substitute iron for A; wine, silk, and Parisian articles for B; and loss of wealth for C; you will always find that restriction limits national well-being.12 Do you wish to abandon this heavy algebra? I am happy to. You will not deny that while the prohibitionist regime has achieved some good for the coal industry, it is only by raising the price of coal.13 You will not deny either that this excess price from 1822 to the present has caused every person who uses this form of fuel a higher expenditure for each such usage, in other words, that this excess price represents a loss. Can it be said that the producers of coal, in addition to the interest on their capital and the ordinary profits to the industry, have received excess profit through restriction that is equivalent to this loss? If that were the case, protection, while remaining unjust, odious, plundering, and communistic, would be at least neutral from the purely economic point of view. It would then deserve to be equated to plunder of the basic kind, which displaces wealth without destroying it. But you yourself declare on page 236 “that the mines in the Aveyron, in Alais, Saint-Etienne, Creuzot, and Anzin, the best known, have not produced an income of 4 percent of the capital committed!” In order for capital in France to yield 4 percent, no protection is needed. Where then is the profit here to compensate for the loss described above? This is not all. There is another form of national loss here. Since through the relative increase in price of the fuel all the users of coal have lost money, they have had to restrict their other forms of consumption proportionally and the total of national production has of necessity been reduced by this measure. This is the loss that is never included in the calculations since it is not obvious. Allow me one more observation that to my surprise has not struck others more. It is that protection applied to the products of agriculture is shown in all its odious iniquity with regard to those known as the Proletariat while causing damage in the long run to landowners themselves. Let us imagine a South Sea island whose land has become the private property of a certain number of inhabitants. Let us imagine that on this territory that has been appropriated and marked out there is a proletarian population that is constantly increasing, or tending to increase.14 This latter class will never be able to produce directly the things that are essential to life. They will need to sell their labor to men who are in a position to supply them in exchange with food and even materials of work: cereals, fruit, vegetables, meat, wool, flax, leather, wood, etc. Obviously it is in their interest that the market in which these things are sold be as wide as possible. The more they are faced with a greater abundance of these agricultural products, the more they will receive for each given quantity of their own output. Under a free regime, a fleet of boats will be seen going to seek foodstuffs and materials on neighboring islands and continents and carrying in payment manufactured products. The owners will benefit from all the prosperity they have the right to expect. A just balance will be maintained between the value of industrial production and that of agricultural production. However, in these circumstances, the landowners of the island make the following calculation: If we prevented the proletarians from working for foreigners and receiving in exchange subsistence and raw materials, they would be obliged to call upon us. As their number is growing unceasingly and the competition between them is increasingly active, they would rush to obtain the portion of food and materials remaining for sale after we had taken what we needed, and we could not fail to sell our products at a very high price. In other words, the balance will be upset between the relative value of their work and ours. They would devote a greater number of hours of labor to our satisfaction. Let us therefore pass a law forbidding this trade that is hampering us, and to execute this law let us create a body of civil servants, for the payment of which the proletariat will be taxed along with us. I ask you, would this not be the utmost oppression, a flagrant violation of the most precious of all freedoms, of the first and most sacred of all property? However, and note this well, it would perhaps not be difficult for landowners to have this law accepted as a benefit by the workers. They would not fail to tell them: “We have not done this for ourselves, honest creatures, but for you. Our interest concerns us little; we are thinking only of yours. Through this wise measure, agriculture will prosper. We the landowners will become rich, which will enable us to give you a great deal of work and pay you a good wage. Without it we will be reduced to destitution, and what will become of you? The island will be flooded with subsistence goods and materials of work from abroad, your ships will be constantly at sea; what a national catastrophe! It is true that abundance would reign around you, but would you be part of it? Do not say that your wages would be maintained and increased, because foreigners would do nothing save increase the number of people demanding what you produce. What makes you sure that they will not take the fancy of delivering you their products for nothing? If this happened, you would die of starvation surrounded by abundance, since you would no longer have either work or a wage. Believe us, accept our law gratefully. Increase and multiply; what is left of provisions on the island beyond what we consume will be delivered to you for your work, of which, in this way, you will always be sure. Above all, do not allow yourself to think that this is a war of words between you and us in which your freedom and property are at risk. Never listen to those that tell you so. Take it as fact that the real conflict is between you and foreigners, those barbarous foreigners, may God curse them, who obviously want to exploit you by offering you deceitful transactions that you are free to accept or reject.” It is not unlikely that a speech such as this, suitably seasoned with sophisms on money, the balance of trade, national production, agriculture that feeds the nation, the prospect of war, etc., etc., would be hugely successful and would gain approval for the oppressive decree by those oppressed themselves, if they were consulted. This has happened before and will happen again. But the prejudices of landowners and the proletariat do not change the nature of things. The result will be a population that is destitute, hungry, ignorant, corrupted, and devastated by starvation, illness, and vice. The result will also be the dreadful shipwreck in people’s minds of the notions of right, property, freedom, and the proper attributes of the state. And what I would like to be able to demonstrate here is that the punishment will shortly reach the landowners themselves; they will have prepared their own ruin by ruining the consuming public, since, in this island, the increasingly indigent population will be seen to fall upon the poorest food. Sometimes they will eat chestnuts, sometimes corn, at other times millet, buckwheat, oats, and potatoes. They will forget the taste of wheat and meat. Landowners will be totally astonished to see agriculture decline. They will in vain agitate, form themselves into agricultural associations, and eternally hark back to the famous adage, “Make forage; with forage you have cattle, with cattle, fertilizer, and with fertilizer, wheat.” They will in vain create new taxes to distribute subsidies to producers of clover and alfalfa; they will always be thwarted by the obstacle of a destitute population incapable of paying for meat and consequently of giving the slightest impetus to this hackneyed circle. They will end by learning at their own expense that it is better to be subject to competition and face rich customers than to have a monopoly and be faced with a ruined customer base. This is why I say: “Not only is prohibition communism, but it is the worst kind of communism. It starts by subjecting the faculties and work of the poor, their sole property, to the discretion of the rich, it leads to a clear loss for the masses and ends by enveloping the rich themselves in the common ruin. It invests the state with the singular right to take from those with little in order to give to those with a great deal; and when, by virtue of this principle, the disinherited people of the world invoke the intervention of the state to achieve a leveling in the opposite direction, I really do not know what the state will be able to reply. In any case, the initial and best response would be to renounce oppression. But I am eager to finish with these calculations. After all, what is the state of the debate? What are we saying and what do you say? There is one point, a capital point, on which we agree: that the intervention of the legislator to level wealth by taking from some what is needed to gratify others is communism, the death of all work, all forms of saving, all well-being, all justice, and all society. You notice that this disastrous doctrine is invading journals and books in all its forms, in a word, the field of intellectual speculation; and you attack it there vigorously. For my part, I think I see that it had previously penetrated legislation and the practical world with your consent and assistance, and it is here that I am striving to combat it. I would next draw your attention to the inconsistency into which you would fall if, while combating the prospect of communism, you were to treat it in action with consideration or, even worse, encourage it. If your reply is: “I am acting in this way because although communism carried out by customs duties is opposed to freedom, property, and justice, it is nevertheless in accord with general utility and this consideration makes me discount by comparison all others.” If this is your answer, do you not feel that you are destroying in advance the entire success of your book, limiting its range, depriving it of its force, and acknowledging that communists of all shades are right, at least with regard to the philosophical and moral aspects of the question? And then, sir, could a mind as enlightened as yours accept the hypothesis of radical antagonism between utility and justice? Would you like me to be frank? Rather than venture such a subversive and impious statement, I would prefer to say, “This is a particular question in which, at first sight, it seems to me that utility and justice are in conflict. I am glad that all men who have spent their lives examining it in detail think otherwise; I have doubtless not studied it enough.” I have not studied it enough! Is this such a painful admission that, to avoid making it, people rush into inconsistency to the extent of denying the wisdom of providential laws which govern the development of human societies? For what more formal negation of divine wisdom is there than to deduce the essential incompatibility of justice and utility! It has always appeared to me that the most cruel form of anguish that can afflict an intelligent and conscientious mind is to stumble at this limit. What side should you join, in fact, what decision should you take in the face of an alternative like this? Should you support utility? This is the path taken by men who consider themselves to be practical. But unless they cannot put two ideas together, they are doubtless appalled at the consequences of systemic plunder and iniquity. Will those who embrace the cause of justice resolutely, whatever it costs, say: “Do what you have to do, whatever the consequences”? This is what honest souls prefer, but who would want to take the responsibility of plunging his country and humanity into destitution, desolation, and death? I defy anyone who is convinced of this antagonism to make up his mind. I am mistaken. People will decide, and the human heart is so made, that interest will be put before conscience. This is borne out by facts, since everywhere that the protectionist regime has been thought to favor the well-being of the people it has been adopted in spite of any consideration of justice, and then its consequences have occurred. Belief in property has been wiped out. In the spirit of M. Billault it has been said, “Since property has been violated by protection, why should it not be violated by the right to work?” Others after M. Billault will take a third step, and still others behind them a fourth, until communism has taken hold.15 Good and sound minds like yours are appalled at the steepness of this slope. They strive to climb back up it and in fact do climb back up, as you have done in your book, to the protectionist regime, which supplies the first and only practical momentum of society on the fatal decline, but in the presence of this living negation of the right to property, if instead of this maxim of your book: “Rights either exist or they do not; if they exist they lead to absolute consequences,” you substitute this sentence: “Here is a special case in which the national good requires the sacrifice of right,” then immediately everything that you believed gave force and reason to your work would be only weakness and inconsistency. For this reason, sir, if you wish to complete your work, you have to give an opinion on the protectionist regime, and to do this it is essential that you start by solving the economic problem; one has to find out about the alleged usefulness of this regime. For even supposing I obtained from you its condemnation from the point of view of justice, this would not be enough to kill the regime. I repeat, men are so made that when they think they are placed between real good and abstract justice, the cause of justice is in great danger. Do you want palpable proof of this? This is what happened to me. When I arrived in Paris, I found myself in the company of so-called democratic and socialist economists in whose circles, as you know, the words principle, selflessness, sacrifice, fraternity, right, and union are widely used. Wealth is examined from top to bottom as something that is, if not despicable, at least secondary to the point at which, since we take great account of it, we ourselves are seen as being cold economists, egoists, individualists, bourgeois and heartless men whose only God is Mammon.16 “Good!” I said to myself. “Here are noble hearts with whom I have no need to discuss the economic point of view, which is very subtle and requires more application than Parisian political writers are in general able to give to a study of this nature. With these people, however, the question of interest cannot be an obstacle; either they believe, on the faith of divine wisdom, that interest is in harmony with justice, or they will sacrifice it very willingly, since they thirst after selflessness. If, therefore, they allow that free trade is an abstract right, they will resolutely flock to its banner.” Following this, I addressed my appeal to them. Do you know what their answer was? Here it is: Your free trade is a splendid utopia. It is based on right and justice, it achieves freedom, it consecrates property, and its consequence will be the union of peoples and the reign of fraternity between men. You are right a thousand times in principle, but we will fight you to the death and by every means because foreign competition will be fatal to national production. I took the liberty of addressing this reply to them: I deny that foreign competition would be fatal to national production. In any case, if this were so, you would be positioned between interest, which, according to you, is on the side of restriction; and justice, which, by your own admission, is on the side of freedom! Well, when I, a venerator of the golden calf, call upon you to make a choice, how is it that you, the advocates of abnegation, trample principles underfoot to cling to interest? Do not therefore speak out so fiercely against a motive that governs you as it governs simple mortals. This experience warned me that, above all, this daunting problem has to be resolved: Is there harmony or antagonism between justice and utility? And consequently the economic aspect of protectionism has to be scrutinized, for since the advocates of fraternity themselves were giving ground over the alleged loss of money, it was becoming clear that it is not enough to remove any doubt concerning universal justice as an ideal; it is also necessary to justify that unworthy, abject, despicable, and despised, albeit all-powerful, motive, interest. This is what gave rise to a small thesis in two volumes which I am taking the liberty of sending you with this letter,17 since I am convinced, sir, that if, like the economists, you judge the protectionist regime severely from the moral point of view and if we differ only with regard to its usefulness, you will not refuse to examine carefully the question whether these two major elements in any definitive conclusions are mutually exclusive or are in agreement. This harmony exists, or at least it is as obvious to me as sunlight. May it also be revealed to you! It would be then that in applying your eminently persuasive talent to fighting communism in its most dangerous manifestation, you would deliver it a mortal blow. Look at what is happening in England. It would seem that if communism were to find a soil that favored it anywhere, it would be in Britain. There, with feudal institutions everywhere causing extreme deprivation and extreme opulence to confront each other, such conditions ought to have prepared people’s minds for infection by false doctrines. And yet, what do we see? While these false doctrines caused unrest on the continent, they did not even ripple the surface of English society. Chartism18 was not able to take root. Do you know why? Because the association, which for ten years has debated protectionism, has triumphed over it only by shining a strong light on the principle of property and on the rational functions of the state. Doubtless, if unmasking protectionism is to attack communism for the same reason and because of their close connection, both may also be struck a blow by following the opposite approach from yours. Restriction could not survive very long faced with a proper definition of the right of property. This being so, if one thing surprised me and made me rejoice, it was to see the Association for the Defense of Monopolies19 devote its resources to distributing your book. This is a highly striking sight and consoles me for the uselessness of my past efforts. This resolution from the Mimerel Committee will doubtless oblige you to increase the number of editions of your work. In this case, allow me to point out to you that in its present state the book has one major gap. In the name of science, in the name of truth, and in the name of public good, I beg you to fill this gap and call upon you to reply to the following two questions:
Ah, sir, if you reach the same conclusions as me, if through your talent, reputation, and influence you caused these conclusions to become dominant in public opinion, who can calculate the extent of the service you would be rendering to French society? We would see the state limit itself to its purpose, which is to guarantee to each person the exercise of his faculties and the free disposal of his goods. We would see the state divest itself of both its colossal, illegitimate attributions and the terrifying responsibility they entail. It would limit itself to repressing the abuses of freedom, which is to achieve freedom itself. It would ensure justice for all and would no longer promise wealth to anyone. Citizens would learn to distinguish between what is reasonable to ask of it and what is puerile. They would no longer burden it with claims and demands. They would no longer accuse it of causing their misfortunes. They would not pin illusionary hopes on it, and in the enthusiastic pursuit of good that is not the state’s to dispense, they would not be seen at each disappointment to accuse the legislator and the law, change the men and the forms of government, and pile institution on institution and rubble on rubble. We would see the universal fever for mutual plunder through the extremely expensive and risky intervention of the state die out. Once it is limited in its objectives and responsibility, simple in its action, with low expenditure, and no longer burdening those it governs with the cost of their own chains, and is enjoying the support of public good sense, the government would have a solid base, which in our country has never been its lot, and we would finally have resolved this most pressing problem: the closing forever of the abyss of revolutions. 13Plunder and Law1[vol. 5, p. 1. “Spoliation et loi.” This pamphlet was first published in the 15 May 1850 issue of Le Journal des économistes.] To Those Who Favor Protectionism in the General Council of Manufacturers Sirs, let us converse for a moment in a moderate and friendly way. You do not wish political economy to believe in and teach free trade. This is as if you were saying, “We do not want political economy to concern itself with society, exchange, value, right, justice, or property. We recognize two principles only, oppression and plunder.” Can you imagine political economy without society? Society without exchange? Exchange without a means of evaluation between the two objects or two services being exchanged? Can you imagine this rate, known as value, as anything other than a result of the free agreement of the people doing the exchanging? Can you imagine that a product is worth another if, in the exchange, one of the parties is not free?2 Can you imagine free agreement between the parties without freedom? Can you imagine that one of the contracting parties could be deprived of freedom, unless one contracting party is being oppressed by the other? Can you imagine exchange between an oppressor and an oppressed party without the equivalence value of the services being distorted and therefore without rights, justice, and ownership being very seriously infringed? What do you want? Tell me frankly. You do not want trade to be free! Do you therefore want trade not to be free? Do you therefore want it to be carried out under the influence of oppression? For if it were not carried out under the influence of oppression, it would be carried out under the influence of freedom and that is what you do not want. Admit it, what is worrying you is right and justice; what is worrying you is ownership—not yours, of course, but that of others. You find it difficult to accept that others are free to dispose of their property (the only way to be an owner); you want to dispose of your property . . . and theirs. You then require economists to draft into a body of doctrine this jumble of absurdity and monstrosity in order to establish the theory of plunder for your use. However, this is just what they will never do, for in their view plunder is a principle of hatred and unrest, and if there is a more particularly hateful form for it to take on, it is above all the legal form.3 Here, M. Benoît d’Azy, I must take you to task. You are a moderate, impartial, and generous man. You do not set store by your interests and wealth; you are the one who constantly proclaims this. Recently at the General Council you said: “If the rich needed only to give up what they had for the people to be rich, we would all be ready to do it.” (Oh yes! That is true!) And yesterday at the National Assembly: “If I thought that it was up to me to give all workers the work they needed, I would give all I owned to achieve this good act . . . which is unfortunately impossible.” Although the pointlessness of the sacrifice occasions in you the great sorrow of not performing it and has you echoing the words of Basile, “Money! Money! I despise it . . . but I am keeping it,” surely no one will doubt such striking generosity of mind, whatever its impotence. It is a virtue that likes to shroud itself in a veil of modesty, especially when it is purely inactive and negative. For your part, you do not miss an opportunity to display it in front of the entire country from the pedestal of the rostrum in the Luxembourg Palace to the Legislative Palace. This proves that you cannot contain its outbursts although you contain its effects, with regret on your part. But when it comes to it, no one is asking you to give up your wealth, and I agree that it would not solve the social problem. You would like to be generous, but you cannot do it to any good purpose. What I venture to ask you is to be just. Keep your wealth, but allow me to keep mine. Respect my property as I respect yours. Is this too bold a request that I am making? Let us suppose that we were in a country in which free trade held sway, where everyone was able to dispose of his work and property. Does your hair stand on end? Calm yourself; this is only a hypothesis. We are therefore all just as free as each other. There is indeed a rule of law, but this law, entirely impartial and just, far from undermining our freedom, guarantees it. It comes into action only if we try to exercise oppression, either you of me or I of you. There is public enforcement, there are magistrates and gendarmes, but all they do is to carry out the law. This being so, you are an ironmaster and I am a hatmaker. I need iron for my own use or for my production. Naturally I ask myself, “How can I procure the iron I need for the least amount of work?” In view of my situation and knowledge, I discover that the best solution for me is to make hats and deliver them to a Belgian who will give me iron in return. However, you are an ironmaster, and you say to yourself, “I know how to make this rascal (referring to me) come to my company.” Consequently, you adorn your belt with sabers and pistols, arm your many employees, go to the border, and there, when I am on the point of carrying out my exchange, you shout, “Stop, or I will blow your brains out!” “But, my lord, I need iron.” “I have some to sell.” “But, my lord, yours is very expensive.” “There are reasons for this.” “But, my lord, I also have reasons for preferring cheaper iron.” “Well then, see what is going to decide between your reasons and mine. You fellows, take aim!” In short, you prevent Belgian iron from entering the country and at the same time you prevent my hats from leaving. Given the free society we have assumed, you cannot deny that this is a clear act of oppression and plunder on your part. I therefore quickly call on the law, a magistrate, and public enforcement. They all intervene; you are judged, condemned, and justly punished. But all this gives you a bright idea. You say to yourself: “I have been very stupid to go to so much trouble. What, exposing myself to killing or being killed! Making a journey! Taking my employees with me! Incurring huge expense! Making myself out to be a robber! Deserving to be condemned by the country’s courts! All this to oblige a lowly hatmaker to come to my workshop to buy iron at my price! If only I could win over the law, the magistrates, and public enforcement so that they serve my interests! If only I could have them carry out at the border the odious act I was going to do myself!” Excited by this attractive prospect, you get yourself elected to office and you get legislation enacted with the following provisions: Article 1: A tax will be levied on everybody (and in particular on my cursed hatmaker). Article 2: With the product of this tax, we will pay men to guard the border well, in the interests of ironmasters. Article 3: The guards will ensure that no one can trade hats or other goods with Belgians in return for iron. Article 4: Ministers, public prosecutors, customs officers, tax collectors, and jailers will be responsible, in their respective domains, for carrying out this law. I agree, sir, that in this form plunder would be infinitely gentler, more lucrative, and less dangerous for you than in the form you originally envisaged. I agree that it would have a very pleasant side for you. You would certainly be able to laugh up your sleeve, since you would have burdened me with the entire expense. However, I assert that you would have introduced into society the basis of ruin, immorality, unrest, hatred, and constant revolution; you would have opened the door to all forms of socialist and communist experimentation.4 You will doubtless consider my hypothesis very bold. Well then! Turn it round against me! I am quite willing, given my love of proof. I am now a worker and you are still an ironmaster. It would be an advantage for me to acquire the tools of my trade cheaply or even free. However, I know that there are axes and saws in your workshop. Therefore, with no further ado, I enter your shop and take everything that I want. But you, using your right of legitimate defense, initially repel force with force. You then call upon the assistance of the law, magistrates, and public enforcement to have me thrown into prison, and you have acted rightly. “Oh, dear!” I say to myself, “I have been stupid to do this. When you want to benefit from other people’s property, it is not in spite of but by virtue of the law that you should act if you are not an imbecile. Consequently, since you have become a protectionist, I will become a socialist. As you have arrogated to yourself the right to profit, I invoke the right to work, or to the tools of my trade. What is more, in prison I read my Louis Blanc and I know this doctrine by heart: “What the proletariat need to throw off their yoke are the tools of their trade, and the function of the government is to give them the tools.” And also: “Once you agree that in order to be genuinely free, man needs the power to exercise and develop his faculties, it follows that society owes each one of its members both education, without which the human mind cannot develop, and the tools of his trade, without which human activity cannot forge a career for itself. But by whose intervention will society give each one of its members a suitable education and the tools of his trade that he needs if it is not by the intervention of the state?”5 Therefore, I, too, storm the doors of the Legislative Palace, even at the cost of causing a revolution in my country. I corrupt the law and make it accomplish the very act for which it had hitherto punished me, for my benefit and at your expense. My decree is based on yours. Article 1: A tax will be levied on all citizens and especially on ironmasters. Article 2: With the product of this tax, the state will pay an armed body titled the Fraternal Gendarmerie. Article 3: The fraternal gendarmes will enter stores that sell axes, saws, etc., seize these instruments, and distribute them to the workers who want them. As you can see, sir, through this clever arrangement I will no longer run the risk nor incur the expense, opprobrium, or scruples of plunder. The state will rob for me as it does for you. There will be two of us playing the game. It remains to be seen what will become of French society if my second hypothesis comes true, or at least what it has become following the almost complete realization of the first. I do not want to deal here with the question from the point of view of economics. People believe that when we demand free trade, we are solely driven by a desire to leave labor and capital free to take the most advantageous route. People are mistaken. This is only a secondary consideration for us. What wounds us, what distresses us, and what terrifies us about the protectionist regime is that it is the negation of rights, justice, and property; that it turns the law, which should guarantee property and justice, against them; and that it thus overturns and corrupts the conditions of the existence of society. And it is on this aspect of the question that I call on you to meditate most seriously. What therefore is the law or at least what ought it to be? What is its rational and moral mission? Is it not to hold accurately the balance between all forms of right, all forms of freedom, and all forms of ownership? Is it not to ensure that justice reigns over all? Is it not to prevent and eliminate oppression and plunder, wherever they are found? And are you not appalled by the immense, radical, and deplorable innovation that is introduced into the world on the day on which the law is made responsible for carrying out itself the crime whose punishment was its mission? The day on which it turns against freedom and ownership, both in principle and deed? You deplore the symptoms exhibited by modern society. You bewail the unrest that reigns in institutions and in ideas. But is it not your principles that have corrupted everything, both in institutions and ideas? What! The law is no longer a refuge for the oppressed but the arm of the oppressor! The law is no longer a shield but a sword! The law no longer holds in its august hands a set of scales but false weights and false keys. And you want society to be properly organized! It is your principles that have written the following words on the pediment of the Legislative Chamber: “Whoever acquires any influence here may obtain his share of legal plunder here.” And what has happened? Each class has rushed to the doors of this palace shouting, “For me, too, I want my share of plunder!” Following the February revolution, when universal suffrage was proclaimed, I hoped for a moment that its great voice would be heard to say: “No more plunder for anyone, justice for all!” And in that lay the true solution of the social problem. This did not happen; protectionist propaganda had for centuries past effected too deep a change in sentiments and ideas. No, by bursting into the National Assembly, each class came to make the law an instrument of plunder for itself according to the principles you uphold. They demanded progressive taxes, free credit, the right to work, the right to state assistance, guaranteed interest rates, a minimum rate of pay, free education, subsidies to industry, etc., etc.; in short, each wanted to live and develop at other people’s expense. And under what authority have these claims been levied? Following precedents you set yourselves. What sophisms were invoked? Those that you have been propagating for centuries. Like you, people have been talking of leveling the conditions of work.6 Like you, people have spoken out against anarchical competition. Like you, people have scorned laissez-faire, that is to say, freedom. Like you, people have said that the law should not limit itself to being just but should come to the aid of tottering industries, protect the weak from the strong, ensure profits for individuals at the expense of the community, etc., etc. In short, as M. Charles Dupin said, socialism has come to put the theory of plunder into practice. It has done what you do and what you want teachers of political economy to do, with you and for you. It is no good your being clever, you people who support restriction; it is no good softening the tone, boasting of your hidden generosity or winning over your opponents through appealing to sentiment; you will not stop logic from being logic. You will not stop M. Billault from saying to the legislator, “You are giving favors to some people; you must give them to everyone.” You will not stop M. Crémieux from saying to the legislator, “You are making manufacturers richer; you must make the proletariat richer.” You will not stop M. Nadeau from saying to the legislator, “You cannot refuse to do for the suffering classes what you do for those that are privileged.” You will not even stop M. Mimerel, your leader of the chorus, from saying to the legislator, “I demand twenty-five thousand francs worth of subsidies for workers’ retirement funds,” and developing his motion thus: Is this the first example of this nature that our legislation is offering? Will you establish a system in which the state is able to encourage everything, open science courses at its expense, subsidize fine arts, give grants to theaters, provide higher education, a wide variety of leisure pursuits, enjoyment of the arts, and rest in old age to the classes that are already favored by wealth, and give all this to those who have not experienced deprivation, making those who have nothing pay for their part in this deprivation, refusing them everything, even the essential items of life?. . . Sirs, our society in France, our behavior, and our laws are so organized that the intervention of the state, as regrettable as you may think it, is found everywhere, and nothing appears stable or long-lasting if the state does not play a part in it. It is the state that makes Sèvres porcelain and the Gobelins tapestries. It is the state that exhibits periodically and at its expense the works of our artists and our manufacturers. It is the state that rewards our stockbreeders and our fishing fleets. All this costs a great deal; this is yet another tax that everyone pays; everyone, let that be understood! And what direct benefit do the people gain from this? What direct benefit do your porcelains, tapestries, and exhibitions give them? We can understand this principle of resisting what you call a state of being carried along, although only yesterday you voted for grants for flax. We can understand this on condition that the weather is considered and above all on condition that impartiality is clearly evident. If it is true that, through all the means I have just indicated, the state has appeared up till now to come to the aid of the comfortably off classes rather than those less favored, it is essential for this appearance to disappear. Will this be by closing the Gobelins factory or forbidding exhibitions? Certainly not but by giving the poor a direct share in this distribution of benefits.”7 In this long list of favors granted to a few at the expense of all, you will note the extreme reticence with which M. Mimerel glosses over customs favors,8 even though they are the most explicit expression of legal plunder. All the speakers who supported or contradicted him were equally reticent. That is very clever! Perhaps they hoped that by giving the poor a direct share in this distribution of benefits, they would preserve the great iniquity from which they benefit but never mention. They are deluding themselves. Do they believe that once they have achieved partial plunder through the institution of customs, other classes will not want, through other institutions, to achieve universal plunder? I am fully aware that you always have a sophism at the ready; you say: “The favors that the law grants us are not intended for industrialists, but for industry. The products they enable us to skim off at the expense of consumers are just a deposit in our hands.”9 “They make us rich, it is true; but our wealth, which enables us to spend more and increase the size of our businesses, falls like fertile dew on the working class.” This is your language, and what I deplore is that your dreadful sophisms have corrupted the public mind enough for them to be quoted today to support all the processes of legal plunder. The suffering classes also say: “Let us take the goods of others through law. We will be more comfortably off; we will buy more wheat, more meat, more cloth, more iron and what we will have received through taxes will return as a beneficial rain on capitalists and landowners.” However, as I have already said, I am not discussing today the economic consequences of legal plunder. When the supporters of protectionism are ready, they will find me ready to examine the ricochet sophism10 ,11 which, besides, can be quoted for all sorts of theft and fraud. Let us limit ourselves to the political and moral effects of trade that is deprived of freedom by the law. I say this, the time has come to establish finally what the law is and what it ought to be. If you make the law the safeguard of freedom and property for all citizens, if it is limited to the organization of the individual right of legitimate defense, you will found on justice a government that is rational, uncomplicated, economical, understood by all, loved by all, useful to all, supported by all, given responsibility that is perfectly defined, highly restricted, and endowed with unshakeable solidity. If, on the other hand, you make the law an instrument of plunder in the interest of particular individuals and classes, each one at first would want to make the law and each would then want to make it to his advantage. There would be a throng at the gates of the Legislative Palace, a bitter battle within it, anarchy in people’s minds, the wreck of all morality, violence in the institutions representing various interests, fierce electoral battles, accusations, recriminations, jealousy, inextinguishable hatred, public enforcement in the service of unjust greed instead of containment of greed, the concept of right and wrong obliterated from people’s minds just as the concept of justice and injustice is obliterated from all consciences, a government that is responsible for each person’s existence and that is bowed under the weight of such responsibility, political convulsions, and fruitless revolutions and ruins on which all forms of socialism and communism will be tried out. These are the scourges that corruption of the law will not fail to unleash. Consequently, oh you supporters of prohibition, these are the scourges to which you have opened the door by using the law to stifle free trade, that is to say, to stifle the right to property. Do not speak out against socialism; you are promoting it. Do not speak out against communism; you are promoting it. And now you are asking us economists to provide you with a theory that proves you are right and justifies you! Heavens above! Do it yourselves.12 14The War Against Chairs of Political Economy1 ,2[vol. 5, p. 16. “Guerre aux chaires d’économie politique.” June 1847. n.p.] We know with what bitterness men who restrict the trade of others for their own advantage complain that political economy stubbornly refuses to extol the merit of these restrictions. Although they do not hope to obtain the elimination of science, at least they pursue the dismissal of those who teach it, retaining from the Inquisition this wise maxim, “If you wish to get the better of your opponents, then shut their mouths.” We were therefore not surprised to learn that to mark the draft law on the organization of the university, they addressed to the minister of education a lengthy memorandum, from which we quote a few excerpts here: “Do you really mean it, minister? Do you wish to introduce the teaching of political economy in the university! Is this a deliberate act to discredit our privileges?” “If there is one venerable maxim, it is most assuredly this: In any country, education ought to be in harmony with the principle of government. Do you think that in Sparta or Rome the treasury would have paid teachers to speak out against the plunder resulting from war or against slavery? And you want to allow restrictionism to be discredited in France!”3 “Nature, sir, has so ordained things that society can exist only on the products of work, and at the same time it has made work burdensome. This is why in all eras and in all countries an incurable propensity for mutual pillage has been noted in men. It is so pleasant to lay the burden on one’s neighbor and keep the payment for oneself!” “War is the first means that people thought of. There is no shorter and simpler way of seizing other people’s property.” “Then followed slavery, which is a more subtle means, and it has been proved that reducing prisoners to servitude instead of killing them was a major step toward civilization.” “Last, the passage of time has substituted for these two crude means of plunder another that is more subtle and for this very reason has much more likelihood of lasting, especially since its very name, protection, is admirably suited to dissimulating its odious aspect. You are not unaware of the way names can sometimes deceive us in regard to the bad side of things.” “As you see, minister, preaching against protectionism in modern times or against slavery in ancient times is exactly the same thing. It always undermines social order and upsets the peace of mind of a very respectable class of citizens. And if pagan Rome showed great wisdom and a farsighted spirit of conservation in persecuting the new sect that arose within its midst to proclaim aloud the dangerous words peace and fraternity, why should we have any more pity for professors of political economy? However, our customs are so gentle and our moderation so great that we do not require you to deliver them to the wild beasts. Forbid them to speak and we will be satisfied.” “Or at least, if they are so intent on speaking, can they not do this with a degree of impartiality? Can they not trim science a bit to suit our wishes? By what quirk of fate have professors of political economy all agreed to turn the weapon of reason against the protectionist dispensation? If this has certain disadvantages, surely it also has advantages since it suits us. Might our professors not gloss over the disadvantages a bit more and highlight the advantages?” “Besides, what are scholars for if not to make science? What stops them from inventing a form of political economy specially for us? Obviously it is a case of ill will on their part. When the Sacred Inquisition of Rome found it impious that Galileo had the earth rotating, this great man did not hesitate to have it immobile again. He even declared it to be so on his knees. It is true that as he rose, it is said that he murmured, ‘E pur si muove.’4 Let our professors declare publicly and on their knees that freedom is worth nothing, and we will pardon them if they mutter, on condition that they do it with clenched teeth, ‘E pur è buona.’”5 “But second, we want to push moderation still further. You will not disagree, minister, that we must be impartial first and foremost. Well then! Since there are two conflicting doctrines in the world, one whose motto is ‘Leave trade alone’ and the other ‘Prevent trade,’ for goodness’ sake keep the balance equal and have one taught as well as the other. Give the order that our political economy should be taught in this way.” “Is it not very discouraging to see science always on the side of freedom, and should it not share its favors a little? No, no sooner is a chair instituted than, like the head of the Medusa, we see the face of a free trader appear.” “In this way, J. B. Say set an example that MM Blanqui, Rossi, Michel Chevalier, and Joseph Garnier were quick to follow. What would have become of us if your predecessors had not taken great care to limit this disastrous form of teaching? Who knows? This very year we would have had to endure cheap bread.” “In England, Adam Smith, Senior, and a thousand others caused the same scandal. What is more, Oxford University instituted a chair of political economy and appointed . . . whom? A future archbishop,6 and lo and behold, his grace started to teach that religion agreed with science in condemning the part of our profits that arose from a protectionist regime. So what happened? Little by little, public opinion was won over, and before two years were out, the English had the misfortune of being free to buy and sell. May they be ruined as they well deserve!” “The same thing happened in Italy. Kings, princes, and dukes, both great and small, were imprudent enough to tolerate the teaching of economics without laying an obligation on professors to reconcile science with protectionism. A host of professors, men like Genovesi and Beccaria, and in our time M. Scialoja, as might be expected, began to preach freedom; and here we have Tuscany free to trade and there we have Naples cutting swathes through its customs duties.” “You know the results achieved in Switzerland by the intellectual movement that has always directed men’s minds toward economic knowledge there. Switzerland is free and seems to be situated in the center of Europe, like light on a chandelier, deliberately to embarrass us. For when we say, ‘The result of freedom is to ruin agriculture, trade, and industry,’ people do not fail to point Switzerland out to us. For a time, we did not know what to answer. Thank goodness La Presse solved our problem by supplying us with this invaluable argument, ‘Switzerland can cope because it is small.’” “The curse of science is threatening to let loose the same plague on Spain. Spain is the very home of protection. And just see how it has prospered! And not counting the treasure she has drained from the New World and the richness of her soil, her prohibitionist policy is sufficient to explain the degree of splendor that she has achieved. However, Spain has professors of political economy, men like La Sagra and Florez Estrada, and so we find the minister of finance, M. Salamanca, aiming to raise Spain’s credit and increase her budget just through the power of free trade.” “Last, minister, what more do you want? In Russia, there is only one economist and he is in favor of free trade.”7 “As you can see, the conspiracy of all the world’s scholars against the fettering of trade is flagrant. And what interest is urging them on? None. If they preached protectionism, they would be no leaner, no worse off. It is therefore pure wickedness on their part. This unanimity holds the greatest dangers. Do you know what people will say? Seeing them so closely in agreement, people will end up believing that what unites them in the same belief is the same reason that causes all the geometers around the world since Archimedes to think the same way regarding the square of the hypotenuse.” “When therefore, minister, we beg you to have two contradictory doctrines taught impartially, it can be only a secondary request on our part, since we can guess what will happen, and he whom you make responsible for teaching restriction may well, through his study, be brought to the path of freedom.” “The best thing is to outlaw science and scholars once and for all and return to the wise traditions of the empire. Instead of instituting new chairs of political economy, abolish those—fortunately they are few—that are still standing. Do you know how political economy has been defined? The science that teaches workers to keep what belongs to them. It is quite clear that a good quarter of the human race would be lost if this disastrous science happened to spread.” “Let us hold on to a good and harmless classical education. Let us fill our young people with Greek and Latin. What harm will it do us if they scan the hexameters of the Bucolics8 on the tips of their fingers from morning to night? Let them live with Roman society, with the Gracchi and Brutus, within a Senate in which war is constantly discussed and a Forum in which the question of plunder is constantly to the fore; let them become imbued with the sweet philosophy of Horace:
“What need is there to teach them the laws of production and trade? Rome teaches them to despise work, servile opus, and not to recognize as legitimate any other trade than the vae victis of the warrior who owns slaves. In this way, we will have a young generation well prepared for life in our modern society. There are indeed a few small dangers. Our young people will be somewhat republican, they will have strange ideas on freedom and property, and in their blind admiration for brute force they will perhaps be found to be somewhat disposed to find fault with the whole of Europe and to deal with political questions in the street by throwing cobblestones. This is inevitable, and frankly, minister, thanks to Titus Livy we have all more or less paddled in this rut. After all, these are questions that you can easily overcome with a few good gendarmes. But what gendarmerie can you call out against the subversive ideas of economists, the daring people who have inscribed at the top of their program this atrocious definition of property: When a man has produced something by the sweat of his brow, since he has the right to consume it, he has the right to exchange it?9 “No, no, with people like this, it is a waste of time to resort to rebuttal.” “Quick, a gag, two gags, three gags!” 15Peace and Freedom or the Republican Budget1[vol. 5, p. 407. “Paix et liberté ou le budget républicain.” February 1849. n.p.] A program! A program! That is the cry that rises from all sides to the cabinet.2 How do you understand home affairs? What will your foreign policy be? Through what major measures do you mean to raise revenue? Are you undertaking to remove from us the triple plague that appears to be hovering over our heads: war, revolution, and bankruptcy? Will we at last be able to devote ourselves in some degree of security to work, enterprise, and major undertakings? What have you drawn up to ensure for us the tomorrow you promised to all citizens the day you took the helm of our affairs? This is what everyone is asking, but alas! the minister makes no reply. What is worse, he appears to be systematically determined not to say anything. What should we conclude from this? Either the cabinet has no plan, or, if it has one, it is hiding it. Well then, I say that, in either case, the cabinet is failing in its duty. If it is hiding its plan, it is doing something it has no right to do, since a government plan does not belong to the government but to the public. We are the ones interested in the plan, since our well-being and security depend on it. We ought to be governed not according to the hidden intentions of the government but according to intentions that are known and approved. It is up to the cabinet to set out, propose, and take the initiative, up to us to judge it, accept or refuse it. But in order to judge, we need knowledge. He who climbs onto the driving seat and takes the reins is declaring by this very act that he knows or thinks he knows the destination to be reached and the route that must be taken. At the very least he should not keep destination and route a secret from the travelers when these travelers form the whole of a great nation. If there is no plan,3 let him judge for himself what he must do. In all eras government calls for an idea, and this is especially true today. It is very clear that we can no longer follow the same old ruts, the ruts that have already overturned the coach in the mud three times. The status quo is impossible and tradition inadequate. Reforms are needed, and although the words have a hollow ring, I will say, “We need something new,” not something new that undermines, overturns, and terrifies, but something new that maintains, consolidates, reassures, and rallies. Therefore, in my ardent desire to see a genuine republican budget appear, and discouraged by government silence, I remembered the old proverb, “If you want something done properly, do it yourself,” and to be sure of having a program I drew one up. I submit it to the public’s good sense. And first of all, I have to tell you in what spirit it was conceived. I love the Republic, and, to make an admission that may surprise some people,4 I add that I like it much better than on 24 February.5 These are my reasons. Like all political writers, even those from the monarchical school, including Chateaubriand among others, I believe that a republic is the natural form of normal government. The people, the king, and the aristocracy are three powers that can coexist only during their conflict. This conflict has armistices known as charters. Each power stipulates in these charters a part that relates to its victories. It is in vain that theoreticians have intervened and said, “The height of art is to settle the attributions of the three jousters in such a way that they counter each other mutually.” The nature of things ordains that during and because of the truce one of the three powers strengthens and grows in stature. The conflict starts once more and then comes lassitude resulting in a new charter, one that is slightly more democratic, and so on until the republican regime triumphs. However, it may happen that once the people have achieved self-government they govern themselves badly. They suffer and long for a change. The exiled claimant takes advantage of the opportunity and reascends the throne. At this, the conflict, the truces, and the reign of the charters starts again, to terminate once more in a republic. How many times can this experiment be repeated? This is what I do not know. But what is certain is that it will be final only when the people have learned to govern themselves. Now, on 24 February, like many others, I had grounds to fear that the nation was not prepared to govern itself. I was fearful, I admit, of the influence of Greek and Roman ideas, which are imposed on all of us by the university monopoly, ideas that radically exclude all justice, order, and freedom and that have become even more false in the authoritative theories of Montesquieu and Rousseau. I also feared the terror of weak souls and the blind admiration of others, inspired by the memory of the First Republic. I said to myself, “As long as these unfortunate associations of ideas last, the peaceful reign of democracy over itself is not assured.” But events did not bear out these forecasts. The Republic was proclaimed; to return to a monarchy, there would have to be a revolution, perhaps two or three, since there are several claimants.6 What is more, these revolutions would be only the prelude to a new revolution, since the final triumph of the republican format is the necessary and inexorable law of social progress. May heaven preserve us from such calamities! We are in a Republic, so let us remain there; let us remain there, since sooner or later it will return; let us remain there, since to extricate ourselves from it would be to return to the era of upheavals and civil wars. However, for the Republic to be maintained, the people have to love it. It has to put down innumerable deep roots in the universal goodwill of the masses. Confidence needs to be born again, production must flourish, capital has to be built up, and earnings have to be increased; life must become easier, and the nation become proud of its work and show it off to the rest of Europe, resplendent in its genuine grandeur, justice, and moral dignity. Let us therefore inaugurate the policy of peace and freedom. Peace and freedom! It is certainly not possible to aspire to two more-elevated objects in the social order. But what can they have in common with the cold, stark figures of a mere budget document? In fact, the link is as close as it can possibly be. A war, the threat of war, or a negotiation that might lead to war, these come into being only by virtue of some small article inscribed in this weighty volume, the terror of the taxpayer. Similarly, I challenge you to imagine a form of oppression, a limitation of citizens’ freedom, or a chain around their arms or necks that is not born of a budget for state revenue and does not subsist because of it. Show me a people who are fed on unjust ideas of their foreign domination, oppressive influence, preponderance, and irresistible power, who meddle in the affairs of neighboring nations, constantly menacing or being menaced, and I will show you a people bowed down with taxes. Show me a people who have endowed themselves with institutions of such a nature that citizens cannot think, write, print, teach, work, trade, or assemble together without a mob of civil servants coming to hinder their movements, and I will show you a people bowed down with taxes. For I can see quite clearly how it costs me nothing to live in peace with everyone. But I cannot conceive of what I would have to do to expose myself to continuous squabbles without being subject to enormous expenses either to attack or to defend myself. And I also see quite clearly how it costs me nothing to be free, but I cannot understand how the state could take action against me in a way that is disastrous to my freedom if I had not begun by handing over to it, at my expense, the costly instruments of oppression. Let us therefore seek economy in expenditure. Let us seek it because it is the only means to satisfy the people and make them like the Republic and keep a check on the spirit of turbulence and revolution through the goodwill of the masses. Let us seek economy, and peace and freedom will be given to us as a bonus. Such economy is like personal interest. Both are vulgar motives, but they engender principles that are nobler than they. The precise and current aim of financial reform is to restore the balance between revenue and expenditure. Its ulterior aim, or rather its effect, is to restore public credit. Last, another, more important aim that it has to achieve in order to merit the fine title of reform is to conciliate the people, make the institutional structure popular, and thus spare the country new political upheavals. While I appreciate from these various points of view the systems that have been developed, I cannot prevent myself from considering them either very incomplete or illusory. A word on two of these systems, one from practical-minded people and the other from utopians. I begin by declaring that I have the most profound respect for the knowledge and experience of financiers. They have spent their lives studying the mechanisms of our financial systems, they know all their aspects; and if it were only a question of achieving the balance that is virtually the exclusive objective of their pursuit, perhaps there would be nothing better to do than to entrust them with this already very difficult task. By snipping away at our expenditure, by increasing our revenue a little, I would like to think that in three or four years’ time they would lead us into that longed-for haven known as a balanced budget. However, it is clear that the basic thought that governs our financial mechanism would remain the same, short of a few improvements to the details. Now, the question I am asking is this: by remaining under the sway of this basic thought, by replastering our system of contributions, so profoundly shaken up by the February revolution, do we have the three or four years ahead of us that separate us from this famous balance? In other words, does our financial system, even stripped of a few abuses, carry within itself the conditions that ensure its longevity? Is it not Aeolus’s sack7 and does it not contain wind and tempests within it? If it is precisely from this system that all the upheavals arose, what are we to expect from its simple restoration? Financiers, and by this I mean those for whom the fine ideal of reestablishing things, except for a few details, as they were before February, these men, may I say, want to build on sand and go around in a vicious circle. They do not see that the old system they are advocating, far from basing an abundant flow of public revenue on the prosperity of the working classes, aims at swelling the budget by drying up the source that feeds it. Apart from the fact that this is a radical vice from the financial point of view, it is also a frightful political danger. What! You have just seen what an almost mortal blow a revolution has given to our finances; you can have no doubt that one, if not the only, cause of this upheaval is the alienation of the people’s hearts generated by the weight of taxes, and the aim to which you are aspiring is to return us to our starting point and to drag the coach painfully to the summit of the fatal slope! Even if a revolution had not taken place, even if it had not awoken in the masses new hopes and demands, I believe in all truth that your plans would be unachievable. But is it not the case that what would have been prudent before February has now become a necessity? Do you believe that your three or four years of effort devoted to the exclusive pursuit of balanced budgets can pass peacefully if the people see nothing on the horizon other than new taxes and if the Republic is visible to them only through the increased ruthlessness of tax collectors. And if, from the fruit of their work, increasingly less well paid, they have to hand over to the state and its agents an increasingly large part? No, do not expect this. A new upheaval will come and cut short your cold, pedantic work; and then, I ask you directly, what will happen to the balance and the credit that, in your eyes, are the apogee of the art and the end product of all intelligent effort? I therefore believe that the practical men have completely lost sight of the third aim (and the first in importance) that I have assigned to financial reform, that is to say, to relieve taxpayers and ensure that the Republic is loved. We had proof of this recently. The National Assembly reduced the salt tax and the tax on letters. Well, then! Not only do the financiers disapprove of these measures, they also cannot get it into their heads that the Assembly has acted in accordance with its own will. They still assume in all good faith that it was the victim of surprise and they detest it, so great is their repugnance for any notion of reform. Please God, I do not wish to insinuate by that that the financiers’ cooperation should be rejected! Whatever new idea may emerge, it can scarcely be implemented other than with the assistance of their extremely useful experience. However, it is probable that it will not arise in their minds. They have lived too long with the vicissitudes of the past for that. If, before the campaigns in Italy, Napoléon had used thirty years of his life to study and apply all the combinations of the old strategy, do people believe that he would have been struck with the inspiration that caused a revolution in the art of war and gave such luster to French arms? Next to this school so full of age and experience, one which will offer valuable resources in execution but which will never, I fear, produce the fertile idea that France is waiting for to achieve its salvation, glory, and security, there is another school or rather an almost infinite number of other schools, whose ideas, if they can be reproached in any respect, at least cannot be so for their lack of originality. I have no intention of examining all the systems that they have brought to light. I will limit myself to saying a few words about the thought that appeared to me to dominate in the manifesto of the so-called advanced republicans. This manifesto appears to me to be based on a vicious circularity even more blatant than that of the financiers. To tell the truth, it is simply a perpetual and puerile contradiction to tell the people “The republic is going to perform a miracle for you. It will free you from all of this heavy responsibility that burdens the human condition. It will take charge of you in the cradle, and after leading you, at its expense, from the nursery to the infant school, from the infant school to primary school, from primary school to secondary and special schools, from there to the workshop, and from the workshop to the almshouse, it will take you to your grave without your having needed, in a word, to take care of yourself. Do you need credit? Do you lack the tools of your trade or work? Do you want education? Has an accident occurred in your field or your workshop? The state is there, like an opulent and generous father, to provide and fix everything. What is more, it will extend its solicitude to the entire world by virtue of the dogma of solidarity, and should you take the fancy to go and sow your ideas and political views far and wide it will always maintain a great army ready to enter the campaign. That is its mission—it is a vast one—and the state asks nothing from you to accomplish it. Salt, wines and spirits, the post office, city tolls, contributions of all sorts, it will renounce everything. A good father gives to his children but asks nothing of them. If the state does not follow this example, if it does not fulfill the double and contradictory duty that we are pointing out to you, it will have betrayed its mission, and all you will need to do is to overthrow it.” It is true that to hide these glaring impossibilities, they add, “Taxes will be transformed; they will be taken from the excess wealth of the rich.” But the people have to know that this is just one more illusion. To impose on the state exorbitant attributions and persuade the public that it can meet these with the money taken from the surplus wealth of the rich is to give vain hope to that public. How many rich people are there in France? When it was necessary to pay two hundred francs to have the right to vote, the number of electors was two hundred thousand, and of this number perhaps half did not have this surplus wealth. And people now wish to assert that the state can fulfill the immense mission it has been given by limiting itself to taxing the rich! It will be enough for two hundred thousand families to hand over to the government the surplus part of their wealth for it to lavish all sorts of benefits on eight million families that are less well off. However, people do not see one thing, which is that a tax system thus constituted would yield scarcely enough to provide for its own collection. The truth is, and the people should never lose sight of this, that public contributions will always and of necessity be directed toward the most general objects of consumption, that is to say, the most popular. This is precisely the reason that should incite the people, if they are prudent, to restrict public expenditure, that is to say, the action, attributions, and responsibilities of the government. They should not expect the state to provide for them since they are the ones that provide for the state.8 Others place great hopes in the discovery of other sources of taxation. I am far from claiming that there is nothing to be gained from this avenue, but I submit the following observations to the reader: 1. All previous governments were passionately fond of taking a great deal from the public in order to be able to spend a great deal. It is scarcely probable that, where taxes are concerned, any valuable mine that is easy to exploit would have escaped the genius of the tax department. If it has been restrained by something, it can have been only the fear of national rejection. 2. If new sources of taxes cannot be found without upsetting habits and arousing discontent, would the moment be well chosen, after a revolution, to try this type of experiment? Would it not compromise the Republic? Let us work out the effect produced on taxpayers by this news: the National Assembly has just made you subject to taxes hitherto unknown to you and before which the monarchy retreated! 3. From the current and practical points of view, looking for and discovering new taxes is a certain means of doing nothing and neglecting the body for its shadow. The National Assembly has only two or three months to live. In the meantime, it has to produce the budget. I leave it to the reader to draw his own conclusions. After having referred to the most fashionable and the most unacceptable approaches, it remains for me to point out the one I would like to see triumph. Let us first of all set out the financial situation we have to face. We are in a situation of deficit (for the word shortage now falls short). I will not seek the exact figure of this deficit. I do not know how our accounts are kept; what I do know is that never, ever, do two official sets of figures for the same item agree. Be that as it may, the disease is serious in the extreme. The last budget (volume 1, page 62) contains this item of information:
This is the result of past budgets. Thus, the damage will constantly increase in the future if we do not succeed either in increasing revenue or in decreasing expenditure, not only in order to align them but also to find surplus revenue to absorb the previous overdraft s gradually. It is no use hiding this from oneself; any other way leads to bankruptcy and its consequences. And what makes the situation more difficult is the consideration that I have already indicated and that I stress with all my strength, namely, if a remedy is wholly or partially sought in a tax increase, which is what comes naturally to mind, this will generate a revolution. Well, although the financial effect of revolutions, to mention only these, is to increase expenditure and dry up the sources of revenue (I will refrain from a demonstration), instead of avoiding a catastrophe this procedure is likely only to precipitate it. I will go further. The difficulty is even greater, since I assert (or at least this is my deepest conviction) that even all the existing taxes cannot be maintained without setting up the most terrible odds against us. A revolution has been achieved; it has proclaimed itself to be democratic and the democracy wants to experience the benefits. It may be right or wrong, but that is the way things are. Woe to the government, woe to the country if this idea is not constantly present in the minds of the people’s representatives! Now that the problem has been set out, what ought we to do? For on the other hand, if expenditure can be reduced, there are limits to these reductions. They should not go so far as to disorganize services, as this would cause revolutions to occur from the other end of the financial spectrum. What, then, ought we to do? This is what I think. I set out my thought in all its naïveté at the risk of raising the hackles of all financiers and practitioners. Reduce taxes. Reduce expenditure in an even greater proportion. And, to clad this financial thought in its political formula, I add: Liberty within. Peace without. This is the entire plan. You protest! “It is as contradictory,” you say, “as the Montagnards’ manifesto.9 It encompasses a vicious circle that is at least as obvious as those you have previously pointed out in the alternative measures.” I deny this; I grant you only that the attempt is bold. But first, if the gravity of the situation has been clearly established and second, if it has been proved that traditional means will not extricate us, it seems to me that my thought has at least some right to be considered by my colleagues. May I therefore be allowed to examine my two proposals, and would the reader be so good as to suspend his judgment and perhaps his verdict, remembering that these proposals form an indivisible whole? First of all, there is a truth that should be remembered, since it is not sufficiently taken into account: it is that, because of the nature of our tax system, which is based predominantly on indirect taxation, that is to say, consumption taxes, there is a very close connection, an intimate relationship, between general prosperity and the prosperity of public finances. This leads us to the following conclusion: it is not strictly accurate to say that relieving taxpayers will inevitably undermine revenue. If, for example, in a country like ours the government, driven by an excess of fiscal zeal, raised taxes to the point of destroying consumers’ purchasing power, if it doubled or tripled the market price of essentials, if it made the materials and tools of the trade even more expensive, if, as a result, a considerable section of the population was reduced to depriving itself of everything and living on chestnuts, potatoes, buckwheat, and corn, it is clear that the drastic shortfall in revenue might be attributed with some reason to the sharply increased taxation itself. And in such circumstances it is also clear that the real means, the rational means of making public finances flourish, would not be to deal further blows to general wealth but on the contrary to allow it to grow; this would not be to tighten taxation but to relax it. In theoretical terms, I do not believe that this can be queried. Through successive increases, taxation may reach the point at which what is added to its rate is bound to reduce its yield. When this point is reached, it is as vain, as crazy, and as contradictory to look for an increase in revenue by an increase in taxes as it would be to wish to raise the liquid in a manometer by means whose result would be to reduce the heat in the boiler.10 This having been said, we have to know whether, in fact, our country has not reached this point. If I examine the principal objects of universal consumption from which the state exacts its revenue, I find them burdened with such exorbitant taxes that the acquiescence of taxpayers can be explained only by force of habit. To say that a few of these taxes are tantamount to confiscation would be to understate the case. First of all, take sugar and coffee. We could procure these at a low cost if we were free to seek them in the markets to which our interests direct us. However, in the clearly defined aim of closing off trade with the world to us, the tax authorities subject us to a heavy fine when we commit the crime of trading with India, Havana, or Brazil. If we, docilely bowing to its will, limit our trade to what three small rocks lost in the midst of the oceans are able to supply, we then pay, it is true, much more for sugar and coffee, but the mollified tax authorities take from us only approximately 100 percent of their value in the form of taxes. This is called profound political economy. Note that acquiring the small rocks has cost us rivers of blood and tons of gold, interest on which will burden us for eternity. As compensation, we also pay tons of gold to keep them. In France there is a product that is quintessentially national and whose use is inseparable from popular habits. To restore the strength of workers, nature has given meat to the English and wine to the French; this wine can be procured everywhere at eight or ten francs a hectoliter, but the tax authorities intervene and tax you at the rate of fifteen francs. I will say nothing about the tax on tobacco, which public opinion is ready to accept. It is no less true that this substance is taxed at several times its value. The state spends five centimes or ten at the most to carry a letter from one point in the territory to another. Until recently, it obliged you to rely upon it; subsequently, when it had you in its grip, it made you pay eighty centimes, one franc, and one franc twenty for what cost it five centimes. Shall I mention salt? It has been clearly established in a recent debate that salt can be produced in unlimited quantities in the southeast of France for fifty centimes. The tax authorities inflicted a duty of thirty francs on it. Sixty times the value of the product! And you call that a tax! I contribute at a rate of sixty because I possess one! I would earn 6,000 percent by abandoning my property to the government! It would be worse if I mentioned the customs. Here the government has two clearly defined aims: the first, to raise the price of goods, to deny industry the materials it needs, and to increase the hardships of life; the second to amalgamate and increase taxes to such an extent that the tax authorities do not receive anything, recalling the following remark from a dandy to his tailor on the subject of a pair of breeches: “If I can get into them, I will not take them.” Last, the exorbitantly high level of these taxes cannot fail to stimulate a spirit of fraud. When this happens, the government is obliged to surround itself with several armies of civil servants, to arouse suspicion in the entire nation and invent all sorts of interventions and procedures, which all paralyze production and drain the budget. This is our tax system. We have no means of expressing its consequences in figures. But when, on the one hand, we study this mechanism and on the other we note that it is impossible for a major section of the population to become consumers, can we not ask ourselves whether these two facts are in a cause and effect relationship? Can we not ask ourselves whether we will set this country and its finances on their feet again by continuing down the same path, assuming that public disaffection leaves us the time? Truly, I consider that we are a little like a man who, having painfully emerged from an abyss into which his foolhardiness has plunged him several times, can think of nothing better than to put himself on the same spot from which he started and to follow the same rut with a little more determination. In theory, everyone will agree that taxes may be raised to such an inordinate degree that it is impossible to add anything to them without freezing general wealth creation so that it compromises the public treasury itself. This theoretical possibility has in fact made itself felt in such a striking way in a neighboring country that I ask to be able to use this example, since if the phenomenon was not acknowledged to be possible, my entire dissertation and all my subsequent conclusions would be worthless and without effect. I know that in France those who seek lessons from British experiments are not very welcome; we prefer to carry out experiments at a cost to ourselves. But I beg the reader to admit for an instant that, on both sides of the Channel, two and two make four. A few years ago, England found herself financially speaking in a very similar situation to the one we are in. For several consecutive years, each budget ended in a deficit, to such an extent that daring and drastic means had to be envisaged. The first one that occurred to financiers was—you can guess—to increase taxes. The Whig cabinet did not spend much time on invention. It limited itself purely and simply to deciding that a surtax of 5 percent would be added to taxes. Its reasoning was this: “If 100 shillings of tax provide us with 100 shillings of revenue, 105 shillings of tax will provide us with 105 shillings of revenue, or at least 104 or 104½ shillings, since we have to allow for a slight drop in consumption.” Nothing seemed more mathematically assured. However, at the end of one year, they were astonished to have gathered, not 105 or 104 and not even 100, but only 96 or 97. It was then that this cry of pain escaped from aristocratic breasts: “It is finished. We can no longer add even a farthing to our civil list. We have reached the limit of profitable taxation.11 We have no further resources since taxing more is to receive less.” The Whig cabinet was overturned immediately. Other competent means had to be tried out. Sir Robert Peel stood forward. He was certainly a practical financier. This did not stop him from producing the sort of reasoning which, pronounced by a novice like me, seemed subtle and perhaps absurd. “Since taxation has created the destitution of the masses and since in turn the destitution of the masses has limited the yield of taxation, it is a strict consequence, although one that appears paradoxical, that to make revenue prosper taxes have to be reduced. Let us try, therefore, to see whether the tax authorities, which have lost out by being too greedy, will not gain by being generous.” Generosity in the tax authorities! That would certainly be a new experience! It would be one well worth examining. Would the financiers not be happy to discover that generosity itself could sometimes be lucrative? It is true that in this case, generosity ought to be called interest properly understood. So be it. Let us not bicker over words. Sir Robert Peel therefore began to cut taxes repeatedly. He allowed wheat, cattle, wool, and butter to be imported in spite of the clamors of the landlords, thinking with apparent reason that the people are never better fed than when there is a great deal of food in the country, a proposition that elsewhere is considered to be seditious. Soap, paper, swill, sugar, coffee, cotton, dyes, salt, the post, glass or steel, everything workers use or consume was subjected to reform. However, Sir Robert, who is not a hothead, was perfectly aware that although a system like this had to react favorably on the exchequer by stimulating public prosperity, it could do so only in the long term. On the other hand, the deficits, shortfalls, or overdraft s, whatever you want to call them, were current and pressing. To abandon, even provisionally, part of the revenue would have made the situation worse and undermined credit. A difficult period had to be endured, made even more so by the enterprise itself. Thus, reducing taxes was just half of Sir Robert’s system, as it is just half of the one I am putting forward in all humility. It has been seen that the essential complement of mine12 consists in reducing expenditure in an even greater proportion. The complement of the Peel system was closer to financial and fiscal traditions. He thought of how to find another source of revenue, and income tax was decreed. Thus, in the face of deficits, the first thought had been to make taxes heavier and the second was to transform them, to ask payment from those able to pay. This was progress. Why should I not have the pleasant idea that reducing expenditure would be even more decisive progress? I am obliged, in spite of the slowness it imposes on me, to examine the following question briefly: Has the British experiment been successful? I must do this, for what would be the use of an example that has failed, if not to avoid imitating it? This is certainly not the conclusion to which I wished to lead the reader. However, many people claim that Sir Robert Peel’s enterprise was disastrous, and their claim is all the more seemingly plausible since, precisely from the day that tax reform was inaugurated, a long and terrible commercial and financial crisis occurred to afflict Great Britain. But first of all, I must point out that even if the recent economic disasters might be attributed at least in part to Sir Robert Peel’s reform, people should not be able to argue against the one I am proposing, since these two reforms differ signally. What they have in common is this: they seek the ulterior increase of revenue in the prosperity of the masses, that is to say, in the reduction of taxes as far as levels are concerned. How they differ is in this: Sir Robert Peel arranged the resources for facing up to the difficulties of transition through the establishment of a new tax. The resources I am calling for come through a steep reduction in expenditure. Sir Robert was so far from orienting his ideas in this direction that, in the very document in which he set out his financial plan before an attentive England, he was requesting a considerable increase in subsidies for the development of military and naval forces. However, since the first part of these two systems merge in that they aim to establish the ample funding of the public treasury over the long term by relieving the working classes, is it not obvious that a reduction in expenditure or the pure and simple abolition of taxes is more in harmony with this thinking than shifting the tax? I cannot help thinking that the second element of Peel’s plan was such as to contradict the first. Doubtless it did a great deal of good to spread the tax burden better. But when all is said and done, when you know a little about this subject, when you have studied the natural mechanism of taxes, their rebounds and repercussions, you know full well that what the tax authorities require from one class is paid for the most part by another. It is not possible for English workers not to have been affected, either directly or indirectly, by income tax. Thus, though they were relieved on the one hand, they were to a certain extent afflicted on the other. But let us leave these considerations aside and examine whether, in the face of the clear facts that explain the English crisis so naturally, it is possible to attribute it to the reform. The eternal false reasoning of those who are determined to incriminate something involves them in attributing to it all the evils that happen in the world. Post hoc, ergo propter hoc.13 The preconceived idea is and always will be the scourge of reason since, by its very nature, it flees the truth when it has the misfortune of glimpsing it. England has had other commercial crises than the one it has just gone through. All have been explained by obvious causes. Once she was seized by a fever of ill-conceived speculation. Immense amounts of capital deserted production and went down the road of American loans and the mining of precious metal. The result was great upheaval in industry and finance. On another occasion, the harvest failed and the consequences are easy to imagine. When a considerable portion of the work of an entire nation has been directed toward the creation of its own subsistence, when the people have ploughed, harrowed, sown, and watered the earth with sweat for a year to make the harvest grow, if, at the time it is due to be gathered in, it is destroyed by a plague, they are faced with two alternatives: either to die of hunger or to import unexpectedly and rapidly huge amounts of food products. All the ordinary operations of production have to be interrupted in order for the capital involved in them to be freed to meet this gigantic and unexpected operation that cannot be postponed. What a waste of energy! What a loss of assets! And how can a crisis not result? This also happens when the cotton crop fails in the United States, for the simple reason that the factories cannot be as active in operation when they lack cotton as when they have it and it is never with impunity that stagnation spreads to the manufacturing districts of Great Britain. Insurrections in Ireland and unrest on the continent that disrupt British trade and reduce consumer power in its customers are also obvious causes of financial hindrance, difficulty, and disturbance. The economic history of England teaches us that just one of these causes has always been enough to trigger a crisis in that country. Well, it so happened that just at the moment when Sir Robert Peel introduced the reform, all these plagues occurred to afflict England at the same time and with a degree of intensity that had hitherto been unknown. The result was great suffering for the people and the immediate broad-casting of the preconceived idea: You see! It is the reform that is crushing the people! However, I put the question: Was it really the financial and commercial reform that led to two successive losses of harvest in 1845 and 1846 and forced England to spend two billion to replace the wheat lost? Was it really the financial and commercial reform that caused the destruction of the potato harvest in Ireland for four years and forced England to feed a starving people at its own expense? Was it really the financial and commercial reform that ruined the cotton crop in two successive years in America, and do people believe that maintaining import taxes would have been an effective remedy? Was it really the financial and commercial reform that gave rise to and developed railway mania14 and suddenly removed two or three billion from productive and customary work to throw them into enterprises that could not be completed, a folly that, according to all observers, has done more current harm than all the other plagues combined? Was it really the financial and commercial reform that lit the fires of revolution on the continent and reduced the absorption of all sorts of British products? Ah, when I think of the unheard-of alliance of destructive agents working together in a common direction, this tightly woven fabric of disasters of all sorts, accumulated by a fate without precedent in a limited space of time, I cannot help thinking, contrary to the preconceived idea: “What would have become of England, its power, its greatness, and its wealth, if Providence had not raised up a man at this precise and solemn moment? Would not everything have been swept away in a terrible convulsion?” Yes, I sincerely believe that the reform, blamed for the misfortunes in England, neutralized part of them. And the English people understand this, since although the most sensitive part of this reform, free trade, has been subjected right from its inception to the most difficult and unexpected tests, popular faith in it has not been shaken, and at the time I am writing this the work begun is continuing and progressing toward its glorious fulfillment. Let us therefore return from across the strait, and may confidence accompany us; there is no need to leave it on the other side of the Channel. We are facing the revenue budget. The Assembly has already lowered the tax on salt and the carriage of letters. In my opinion, it should do the same for wines and spirits. Under this heading, I consider that the state should agree to lose fifty million. As far as possible it should spread the remaining tax over the whole of the wine consumed. People will understand that thirty to forty million spread over forty-five million hectoliters will be much easier to pay than one hundred million concentrated on a quantity three times less. The expenses and above all the hindrances resulting from the current collection system will also have to be reduced. The state should also agree to reduce duties on sugar and coffee considerably. Increased consumption will solve the fiscal and colonial questions simultaneously. Another great and popular measure would be the abolition of city tolls.15 On this subject, I have been struck by the advantage that might be drawn from an opinion put forward by M. Guichard. Everyone acknowledges that an income tax would be just and in accordance with proper principles. If people hesitate, it is because of the problems of executing it. There is great fear, which I think is justified, of the heavy responsibility that the importunate investigations essential for this tax would bring to bear on the state. It is not a good thing for a republican government to appear to taxpayers to be an avid inquisitor. In local districts, wealth is known about. It can be assessed within the family and if its holders were given the choice of establishing income tax with the specific aim of replacing city tolls, it is likely that this transformation, based on justice, would be received favorably. In the long run, France would thus be preparing a register of wealth held in movable assets and the means of leading its tax system down the path of truth. I do not think that a measure of this sort, which would also have the advantage of triggering decentralization, would be beyond the means of a clever statesman. It would certainly not have made Napoléon retreat. I am obliged to say something about the customs; and to shelter myself from the prejudices that I can see arising from here, I will consider them only from the fiscal point of view, since in any case it is just a question of the budget. It is not that I am not strongly tempted to make a sortie toward freedom of exchange, but will I not be compared to the brave general who was famous for his predilection for the care of horses? Wherever on the intellectual horizon you place the point of departure of the conversation, whether on chemistry, physics, astronomy, music, or the navy, you will see him rapidly mounting the saddle horse and you will be obliged to mount it behind him. We all have our pet subjects, our hobbyhorses in a Shandyan16 style. My pet subject, and why should I not admit it, is freedom, and if it so happens that I defend freedom to trade in particular, it is because, of all the freedoms, it is the one most misunderstood and most compromised. Let us therefore examine the customs services from the fiscal point of view; and may the reader pardon me if, escaping tangentially, I touch a little on the questions of right, property, and freedom. One of the most sincere and clever protectionists in this country, M. Ferrier,17 admitted that, if one wished to retain a fiscal character for the customs, it would be possible to draw twice the revenue for the treasury. It raises about one hundred million; therefore, independently of the charge imposed on us as consumers by protectionism, it makes us lose one hundred million as taxpayers. For it is perfectly clear that what the tax authorities refuse to recover by means of the customs services, it has to raise through other taxes. This mechanism is worth the trouble of examination. Let us suppose that the treasury requires one hundred. Let us also suppose that, if foreign iron could enter on payment of a reasonable duty, it would provide the revenue with five. However, a sector of industrialists claims that it would be to its advantage for foreign iron not to be admitted. Taking their side, the law decrees prohibition, or what amounts to the same thing, a prohibitive duty. Consequently, any opportunity to raise a tax is deliberately sacrificed. The five do not come in and the treasury is left with only ninety-five. But since we have accepted that it needs one hundred, we have to agree to its taking five from us in some other way, on salt, the post, or tobacco. And what happens for iron also happens for all imaginable forms of consumer products. In the face of this strange dispensation, what is the situation of the consumer-taxpayer? It is this: 1. He pays considerable taxes, which are intended to maintain a huge army of employees at the frontier, an army that is established there on the instigation of and for the account and benefit of ironmasters or any other privileged person whose business it is furthering. 2. He pays a higher than market price for iron. 3. He is forbidden to make the thing in exchange for which the foreigner would have delivered his iron, for to prevent an asset from being imported is also to prevent by the same measure another asset from being exported. 4. He pays a tax to fill the void at the treasury, for to prevent an import from entering is to prevent tax being collected, and since the needs of the tax authorities are established, should a tax fail to be collected, it has to be replaced by another. This certainly is a strange position for a consumer-taxpayer to be in. Is it more unfortunate than ridiculous or more ridiculous than unfortunate? It might be a problem to answer this. And what is the reason for all of this? For an ironmaster to reap from his work and capital no extraordinary profit but only to enable him to experience even greater difficulties in production! When then will decisions be taken in matters like this in consideration of the majority and not the minority? The interest of the majority, this is the economic rule that never goes wrong since it merges with justice. One thing has to be clearly agreed upon, which is that in order for protection to be just without ceasing to be disastrous, it would need at least to be equal for all. However, is this possible, even in the abstract? Men trade products with each other, or products in return for services, or services for services. It may even be asserted that, as products have value only because of the services they generate, everything is reduced to the mutuality of services. Well, the customs service can obviously protect only the types of service whose value is incorporated in material products that can be stopped or seized at the frontier. It is radically incapable of protecting the direct services provided by doctors, lawyers, priests, magistrates, soldiers, traders, men of letters, artists, or artisans, who already constitute a considerable part of the population, by raising the value of the services. It is equally powerless to protect men who let out their work, since they do not sell products, but provide services. Here then we have all workers or journeymen excluded from the alleged benefits of protectionism. But while protection is of no benefit to them, it damages them, and here we have to identify clearly the counterblow that those protected should feel themselves. The only two classes protected, and to a very unequal degree, are manufacturers and farmers. These two classes see the customs as providential, and nevertheless we are witnesses to the fact that they never cease to bewail their distress. It must be that protection is not as effective for them as they had hoped. Who would dare to say that agriculture and manufacturing are more prosperous in those countries most protected, such as France, Spain, or the Roman states, than in those nations that have held their freedom less cheap, such as the Swiss, the English, the Belgians, the Dutch, and the Tuscans? What is happening with regard to protection is something similar or rather identical to what we have confirmed just now in connection with taxes. In the same way that there is a limit to profitable taxation, there is a limit to profitable protection. This limit is the complete destruction of the ability to consume, a destruction that protection tends to bring, like taxes. The tax authorities prosper with the prosperity of taxpayers. In the same way, the value of an industry is based only on the wealth of its customers. From that it follows that, when the tax authorities or a monopoly seek to develop themselves by means whose inevitable effect is to ruin consumers, both enter the same vicious circle. There comes a time when the more they increase the level of tax, the more they reduce the yield. Those who are protected cannot assess the state of depression that weighs upon their industry, in spite of the favors of the protectionist dispensation. As in the case of the tax authorities, they seek a remedy in making these arrangements even more extreme. In the end they should ask themselves whether it is not the favors themselves that are oppressing them. They should contemplate the half or two-thirds of the population that is reduced, as a result of these unjust favors, to doing without iron, meat, cloth, or wheat, building carts with branches of willow, clothing themselves in homespun, eating millet like birds or chestnuts like less poetic creatures!18 Since I have let myself be drawn into this discussion, allow me to end it with a sort of apologue. In a royal park, there was a host of small ponds, all communicating with one another through underground conduits, so that the water had the invincible tendency to reach a uniform level. These reservoirs were supplied by a large canal. One of them, slightly more ambitious, wanted to attract to itself a major part of the supply intended for all. This should not have caused much of a problem in view of the inevitable leveling that would have followed the attempt, if the means thought up by the greedy and reckless reservoir had not led to an inevitable loss of liquid in the supply canal. We can guess what happened. The level decreased everywhere, even in the favored reservoir. It said to itself, since in apologues, there is nothing that does not speak, even reservoirs: “It is very strange, I draw to myself more water than before; I succeed for a fleeting moment in raising myself above the level of my peers and yet I see with distress that we are all moving, I along with the rest, toward total desiccation.” This reservoir, doubtless as ignorant of hydraulics as it was of morals, closed its eyes to two circumstances: the first being the underground communication of all the reservoirs with each other, an invincible obstacle to its being able to benefit exclusively and permanently from its injustice; the other being the general loss of liquid inherent in the means it had thought up, which was to lead inevitably to a general and continuous lowering of the level. Well, I say that the social order also exhibits these two circumstances and that those who do not take them into account are reasoning incorrectly. First of all, between all forms of production, there are hidden communications, transmissions of work and capital, which do not allow one of them to raise its normal level above the rest indefinitely. Second, in the means thought up to carry out the injustice, that is to say, in protectionism, there is the radical ill that it generates an unredeemable loss of total wealth; and from these two circumstances, it follows that the level of well-being decreases everywhere, even within the industries that are protected, like the level of the water in the greedy and stupid reservoir. I was fully aware that free trade would divert me from my path. Obsessions! Obsessions! Your sway is irresistible! But let us return to the tax authorities. I will say to those who support protectionism: In view of the pressing needs of the Republic, will you not agree to set a limit to your greed? What! When the treasury is in desperate straits, when bankruptcy threatens to engulf your wealth and security, when the customs service offers a truly providential means of rescue by being able to fill the public coffers without causing harm to the masses, but on the contrary, relieving them of the weight oppressing them, will you remain inflexible in your selfishness? On your own initiative, at this solemn and decisive moment, you ought to make the sacrifice, as you call it and which you sincerely believe it to be, of part of your privileges on the altar of the fatherland. You would be rewarded by public esteem and, I dare to forecast this, what is more you will also gain by way of material prosperity. Therefore, is it too much to ask you to substitute duties of 20 to 30 percent for prohibition, which has become incompatible with our constitutional law? A reduction by half of the duties on iron and steel, those sinews of production; on coal, on which industry, so to speak, feeds; on wool, flax, and cotton, the materials used by labor; and on wheat and meat, the basis of strength and life? But I see that you are becoming reasonable,19 you welcome my humble request, and we can now cast a glance, both morally and financially, at our now properly rectified budget. First of all, here are many things that have at last come within the reach of the hands or lips of the people: salt, letter post, wines and spirits, sugar, coffee, iron, steel, fuel, wool, flax, cotton, meat, and bread! If we add to this list the abolition of city tolls and the profound modification if not the total abolition of the terrible law of recruitment, a terror and plague in our countryside, I ask you, will the Republic not have sunk its roots in all the fibers of popular adhesion? Will it be easy to shake? Will it require five hundred thousand bayonets to be the terror of the parties . . . or their hope? Shall we not be protected from these terrible upheavals with which, it seems, the very air is charged right now? Might we not conceive the justified hope that a feeling of well-being and the awareness that the power has at last firmly entered into the path of justice will regenerate production, confidence, security, and credit? Is it an illusion to think that these beneficial causes will react on our finances more surely than a surfeit of taxes and hindrances might? And, as for our current, immediate financial situation, let us see how it will be affected. Here are the reductions that will result from the proposed system:
——A loss that should decrease, by its very nature, from year to year. To decrease taxes (which does not always mean decreasing revenue), this is then the first half of the financial program of the Republic. You will say: “This is very bold, faced with the deficit.” And I will reply: “No, this is not boldness, it is prudence. What is bold, what is reckless and senseless is to continue down the path that brings us closer to the abyss. See where you are! You have made no secret of it, indirect taxes are causing you worry, and as for direct taxes themselves, you count on collecting them only if you employ a militia. Are we in the world of taking aim and military sallies? How could things have reached this stage? Here are one hundred men; they all pay a subscription to set up, for their security, an apparatus of enforcement, a common force of their own. Little by little, this common force is diverted from its purposes and it is made responsible for a host of unreasonable functions. Because of this, the number of men who live off this subscription increases, the subscription itself increases, and the number of those paying it decreases. Discontent and disaffection arise and what will be done? Return the common force to its original purpose? That would be too commonplace and, people say, too bold. Our statesmen are cleverer; they think of decreasing still further the number of those paying to increase the number of those being paid. We need new taxes, they say, to maintain the military and new militias to collect the new taxes! And people do not see a vicious circle in this! We thus reach the fine situation in which half of the citizens will be occupied in repressing and holding the other half to ransom. This is what is known as wise and practical policies. All the rest is just utopia. Give us a few years more, say the financiers; allow us to push the system to its limits and you will see that we will at last achieve the famous balanced budget that we have been pursuing for so long and that has been upset precisely by the procedures that we have been following for the last twenty years. It is therefore not as paradoxical as it appears at first glance to take an opposite course and to seek a balance through the reduction of taxes. Will such balance be less worthy of its name because instead of seeking it at 1.5 billion we achieve it at 1.2? But this first part of the republican program makes a commanding appeal to its essential complement: a reduction in expenditure. Without this complement, the system is utopian, I agree. With this complement, I challenge anyone, other than those involved, to dare to say that it does not go right to the heart of the matter, and by the path that holds the least danger. I add that the reduction in expenditure must be greater than the revenue; without this, we would be pursuing the leveling in vain. Finally, it has to be said, a group of measures like these cannot provide all the results we have the right to expect of them in a single financial year. We have seen, with regard to revenue, that to instill in it this force for growth whose basis lies in general prosperity, we had to begin by reducing it. This means that time is needed to develop this force. This is equally true for expenditure; its reduction can be only gradual. Here is one reason for this, among others. When a government has raised its expenditure to a level that is swollen and burdensome, this means in other words that many lives depend on its prodigality and feed on it. The idea of achieving savings without upsetting anyone carries a contradiction within it. To use sufferings as an argument against reform, which of necessity implies these sufferings, is to totally reject any act of reparation and to say: “Because an injustice has been introduced into the world, it is proper for it to be perpetuated forever.” This is an eternal sophism of those who idolize abuse. However, from the truth that individual suffering is the necessary consequence of any reform, it does not follow that it is not the legislator’s duty to alleviate it as far as he can. For my part, I am not one of those who hold that, when a member of society has been attracted by society to a career, when he has grown old in it and made it his specialty, when he is incapable of earning his living from another occupation, society should be able to cast him out, with neither hearth nor home. Any loss of particular employment therefore imposes on society a temporary responsibility on grounds of humanity and, in my view, of strict justice. It follows from this that the modifications made to the expenditure budget cannot produce results immediately, any more than those made to the revenue budget. They are germs whose nature is to develop, and the overall scheme involves a decrease of expenditure from year to year by way of specific reductions and revenue that increases from year to year in parallel with general prosperity, so that the final result ought to be a balanced budget or a surplus. As for the alleged disaffection that might reveal itself in the very numerous sector of public servants, I have to confess that, with the gradual changes that I have just mentioned, I am not afraid of this. Besides, this scruple is strange. As far as I know, it has never stopped massive destitutions after each revolution. And yet, what a difference there is! To dismiss an employee in order to give his job to another is more than upsetting his interest, it is wounding his dignity and his acute sense of right. But when the abolition of an occupation, fairly managed, results in the loss of jobs, it may cause harm but will not enrage. The wound is less sharp, and the person affected by it is consoled by consideration of the public good. I needed to put these reflections before the reader when speaking about deep reforms, which would of necessity lead to the laying off of many of our fellow citizens. I will not review all the articles of expenditure that I consider it to be useful and good policy to cut. The budget reflects nothing but politics. It swells or decreases depending on whether public opinion requires more or less from the state. What good would it do to show that the elimination of such and such a government department would lead to this or that major saving if the taxpayer himself prefers the department to the saving? There are reforms that have to be preceded by lengthy debates and a slow preparation of public opinion, and I do not see why I should go down a path in which it is clear that public opinion would not follow me. This very day the National Assembly took the decision to draw up the first budget of the Republic. It has a short and very limited time only in which to do this. With a view to setting out a reform that is immediately practicable, I have to turn away from the general and philosophical considerations that I first thought of putting before the reader. I will limit myself to indicating them. What postpones any radical financial reform to a far distant future is that in France people do not like freedom. They do not like feeling responsible for themselves and have no confidence in their own dynamism; they feel reassured only when they feel the pressure of government pulling strings on all sides, and it is precisely these pullings of strings that are so expensive. If, for example, people had faith in the freedom of education, what would need to be done other than abolishing the public education budget? If people really valued freedom of conscience, how would they achieve it other than by abolishing the budget for religious practice?20 If people understood that farming is improved by farmers and trade by traders, they would come to the conclusion that the budget for agriculture and commerce is superfluous and is something that the most advanced nations are careful not to inflict on themselves. If, on a few points, like surveillance, the state needs to intervene with regard to education, religious practice, or commerce, an extra division in the ministry of the interior would be enough; we do not need three ministries to do this. Thus, freedom is the first and most fertile source and spring of savings. However, this spring is not made for our lips. Why? Solely because public opinion rejects it.21 Our children will therefore continue, under the monopoly of the university, to quench their thirst on false Greek and Roman ideas, to be imbued with the warlike and revolutionary spirit of Latin authors, to scan the licentious verses of Horace, and to become unsuited to modern life in society. We will continue not to be free and as a result to pay for our servitude, since peoples can be held in servitude only at great expense. We will continue to see farming and commerce languish and succumb under the yoke of our restrictive laws and, what is more, pay the cost of this torpor, for all the hindrances, regulations, and useless formalities can be carried out only by agents of government enforcement, and the agents of the state can live only through the budget. And, it must be repeated, the harm is without a remedy that can currently be applied, since public opinion attributes to oppression all the intellectual and industrial development that this oppression has not succeeded in stifling. An idea that is as strange as it is disastrous has taken hold of people’s minds. When it is a question of politics, people assume that the social engine, if I can call it this, is in accordance with individual interest and opinion. We cling to Rousseau’s axiom, “The general will cannot err.” And on this basis, we decree universal suffrage with enthusiasm. However, from all other points of view, we adopt exactly the opposite hypothesis. We do not accept that the driving force of progress lies in individuality, in its natural yearning for well-being, a yearning that is increasingly enlightened by intelligence and guided by experience. No. We start off from the concept that mankind is divided into two: first, there are individuals who are inert and deprived of any dynamism or stimulus to progress or who obey depraved impulses which, left to themselves, reduce them to absolute evil; and second, there is a collective being, a common force, the government in short, to which is attributed inborn knowledge, a natural passion for good, and the mission to change the direction of individual tendencies. We assume that, if they were free, men would avoid all forms of education, religion, or production or, what is worse, that they would seek out education to attain error, religion to end up in atheism, and work to consummate their ruin. This being so, it is necessary for individuals to be subject to the regulatory action of the collective being, which, however, is none other than the coming together of these individuals themselves. Well, I ask you, if the natural inclinations of all the fractions tend toward evil, how will the natural inclinations of the whole tend toward good? If all the innate forces of man are directed toward nothingness, on what will the government, made up of men, take its point of support in order to change this direction?22 Be that as it may, as long as this strange theory remains in force, we will have to give up freedom and the convenient economies that it brings. We ought to pay for our chains when we love them, given that the state never gives us anything for nothing, not even irons. The budget is not only the whole of politics, it is also in many respects the moral code of the people. It is the mirror in which, like Renaud, we might see the image and punishment of our preconceived ideas, our vices, and our wild pretensions. Here again, there are torrents of wrong expenditure that we are reduced to leaving to run, since they are caused by leanings which we are not ready to abandon; what would be more unreal than to wish to neutralize an effect while the cause continues to exist? I will mention, among other things, what I do not fear to call, even if the word sounds harsh, the spirit of begging, which has spread to all classes, the rich as much as the poor.23 Certainly, in the circle of private relations, the French character does not fear comparison with regard to independence and pride. God forbid that I should cast a slur on my own country and even less that I should calumniate it! However, I do not know how it has happened that the same men who, even when pressed by distress, would blush to hold out a hand to their fellow men, lose all their scruples when the state intervenes and averts the gaze of their consciences from the contemptibility of such action. As soon as the request is not addressed to individual largesse, as soon as the state is the intermediary of the work, it appears that the dignity of the supplicant is spared, that begging is no longer shameful nor plunder an injustice. Farmers, manufacturers, traders, shipowners, artists, singers, dancers, men of letters, civil servants of all sorts, entrepreneurs, suppliers, or bankers, everyone in France wants something, and everyone expects the budget to provide. And soon the whole nation en masse has joined in. One person wants positions, another pensions, a third premiums, a fourth subsidies, a fifth inducements, a sixth restrictions, a seventh credit, and an eighth work. The whole of society is rising up to snatch a share of the budget in one form or another, and in its Californian fever it forgets that the budget is not a Sacramento where nature has deposited gold; the budget contains only what this mendicant society has itself put into it. Society forgets that the generosity of the government can never equal its avidity since, on the basis of this largesse, it has to keep back enough to pay for the twin services of tax collection and distribution. In order to give these rather abject arrangements the authority and appearance of regularity, they have been attached to what is known as the principle of solidarity, a word that, used in this way, means nothing other than the effort of all the citizens to despoil each other through the costly intervention of the state. However, it can be understood that once the spirit of mendacity becomes systematized and almost an administrative science, imagination knows no bounds with regard to ruinous institutions. But, I agree, we can do nothing at the moment in this respect and I end with this question: When the spirit of begging is taken to the point at which it incites the entire nation to plunder the budget, do people not think that it compromises political security even more than public resources? For the same reason, another considerable saving is still insuperably forbidden to us. I refer to Algeria. We have to yield and pay until the nation has understood that to transport one hundred men to a colony and at the same time transport ten times the capital that would maintain them in France is to relieve nobody and to tax everyone. Let us therefore seek our means of salvation elsewhere. The reader will acknowledge that, for a utopian, I am easy to deal with when it comes to retrenchment. There are many more and even better examples that I could mention. Restrictions to our most precious freedoms, the mania for seeking special treatment, an infatuation with a disastrous conquest: in all this I have given way to public opinion. Let it now allow me to take my revenge and to be slightly radical with regard to foreign policy. For finally, if public opinion intends to close the door to any reform, if it has decided in advance to keep everything that exists and to allow for no change whatever in anything that relates to our expenditure, my whole argument will crumble and all financial plans will be powerless; all that remains to us is to leave the people to bow down under the weight of taxes and walk with lowered heads toward bankruptcy, revolution, disorganization, and social conflict. In talking about our foreign policy, I will start by clearly establishing the following two proposals, outside of which I make so bold as to say there is no salvation.
As a consequence of these two proposals there arises a third, which is: We have to disarm on land and sea as quickly as possible. False patriots! Enjoy yourselves to the full. There was a day on which you called me a traitor because I demanded freedom; what will happen now that I am invoking peace?24 Here again, public opinion is an obstacle to the first item. It has been saturated by the following words: national greatness, power, influence, preponderance, and dominance. France is repeatedly told that she must not retreat from the rank that she occupies among the nations; her pride having been addressed, it is now time to turn to her interest. She is told that she must show evidence of strength to support useful negotiations, that the French flag must be displayed on every ocean to protect our trade and control distant markets. What is all of that? An inflated balloon that a pinprick will be enough to deflate. Where is influence today? Is it at the mouths of cannon or the points of bayonets? No, it is in ideas, institutions, and the sight of their success. Peoples affect each other through the arts, literature, philosophy, journalism, trading transactions, and above all by example, and if they also act on occasion through constraint and threats, I cannot believe that this type of influence is likely to develop the principles that encourage humanity to progress. The rebirth of literature and the arts in Italy, the revolution of 1688 in England, and the Declaration of Independence in the United States have doubtless contributed to the outburst of generosity that enabled our fathers to accomplish such great things in 1789. In all this, where do we see the hand of brute force? People say: “The triumph of French arms at the turn of this century has broadcast our ideas everywhere and left the imprint of our politics on the entire surface of Europe.” But do we know, can we know what would have happened in other circumstances? If France had not been attacked, if the revolution pushed to the brink by resistance had not slipped into a bloodbath, if it had not ended up in military despotism, if, instead of grieving, terrifying, and disrupting Europe, it had shown it the sublime sight of a great people peacefully accomplishing its destiny, with rational and beneficial institutions ensuring the good fortune of its citizens, is there anyone who would assert that an example like this would not have aroused the ardor of the oppressed and weakened the aversions of oppressors in our vicinity? Is there anyone who would say that the triumph of democracy in Europe would not now be further advanced? Let us calculate therefore all the waste of time, just ideas, wealth, and genuine force that these major wars have cost democracy and take account of the doubts they have raised for a quarter of a century about popular rights and about political truth! And then, how is it that there is not enough impartiality in the depths of our national conscience to understand how much our pretensions to impose an idea by force wound the hearts of our brothers abroad? What! We, the most sensitive people in Europe, we who, rightly, would not allow the intervention of an English regiment even if it were to erect a statue to freedom on the soil of our country and teach us social perfection itself! When we all, up to the old rubble of Koblenz,25 are in agreement on this point, that we would need to unite to break the grip of the foreign hand that comes bearing arms to interfere in our sorry debates, it is we who constantly have this irritating word on our lips: preponderance, and we do not know how to show freedom to our brothers other than with a sword in our hand aimed at their breasts! How have we come to imagine that the human heart is not the same everywhere, that it does not everywhere have the same pride or the same horror of dependence? But last, where is this illiberal preponderance that we pursue so blindly and, in my view, with such great injustice, and have we ever seized hold of it? I can see the efforts clearly but not the results. I can see clearly that for a long time we have had a huge army and naval power that crush the people, ruin workers, generate disaffection, and drive us to bankruptcy. They threaten us with terrible calamities on which the very eyes of imagination tremble to gaze. I see all of this, but I cannot see preponderance anywhere, and if we have any weight in the destiny of Europe it is not through brute force but in spite of it. Proud of our prodigious military state, we have quarreled with the United States26 and we yielded; we have had arguments relating to Egypt and we yielded; from year to year we have made promises to Poland and Italy and not kept them. Why? Because the deployment of our forces has provoked a similar deployment throughout Europe. Once this happened, we could no longer doubt that the slightest combat concerning the most futile cause might threaten to take on the proportions of a world war, and humanity as well as prudence has enjoined statesmen to decline any such responsibility. What is remarkable and very instructive is that the people who have pushed this pretentious and cantankerous policy the furthest, the English, who have led us on by their example and perhaps made it a hard necessity for us, have reaped the same disappointments from it. No nation has gone so far as they in laying exclusive claim to regulate the balance of power in Europe, and this balance has been compromised ten times without their moving. The English arrogated to themselves the monopoly of colonies, and we have taken Algiers and the Marquise Islands without their moving. It is true that in this they may have been suspected of having, with apparent ill humor but secret joy, seen us attach two balls and chains to our feet. They claimed to be the owners of Oregon and the patron of Texas, and the United States have taken Oregon, Texas, and part of Mexico to cap it all, without their reacting. All this proves to us that, while the minds of governments are full of war, those of the governed are full of peace, and as for me, I do not see why we should have carried out a democratic revolution if not to ensure the triumph of a spirit of democracy, the working democracy which indeed pays the costs of a military system but can only ever draw from it ruin, danger, and oppression. I therefore believe that the time has come when the entire genius of the French Revolution must come together, make its presence felt, and glorify itself solemnly through one of these acts of greatness, loyalty, progress, self-belief, and confidence in its strength, on the likes of which the sun has never shone. I believe that the time has come when France should resolutely declare that it sees the solidarity of peoples in the linking of their interests and the communication of their ideas and not in the interjection of brute force. And to give this declaration irresistible weight—for what is a mere manifesto, however eloquent it is?—I believe that the time has come for it to dissolve this brute force itself. If our beloved and glorious country took the initiative in Europe of carrying out this revolution, what would its consequences be? First of all, to enter into my subject, here at one fell swoop our finances would be in balance. Here is the first part of my reform immediately put into practice. Taxes would be relieved. Work, confidence, well-being, credit, and consumption would reach down to the masses. The republic would be loved, admired, and consolidated through the strength given to institutions by public support. The threatening ghost of bankruptcy would be banished from people’s thoughts. Political upheavals would be a thing of the past. At last, France would be happy and glorious among nations, with the irresistible force of her example shining all around her. Not only would the achievement of the democratic task inflame hearts abroad at the sight of this spectacle, but the spectacle itself would also certainly make that achievement easier. Elsewhere, as in our country, it is difficult to make people love revolutions that result in new taxes. Elsewhere, as in our country, people feel the need to break out of this circle. Our threatening attitude is, for foreign governments, a continuing reason or pretext for extracting money from their people and for raising a soldiery. How much easier would the work of regeneration be made all over Europe if it could be accomplished under the influence of tax reforms, which are fundamentally questions of approval and disapproval and questions of life and death for new institutions! What are the objections to this? National dignity. I have already indicated the reply to this. Is it to benefit their dignity that France and England, after being crushed by taxes to finance their military might, have always refused to do what they have announced they would? In this manner of understanding national dignity, there is a trace of our Roman education. At the time when peoples lived from plunder, it was important for them to inspire terror far and wide at the sight of their mighty armies. Is this also true for those who base their progress on work? The American people are reproached for a lack of dignity. If this is true, it is at least not so in American foreign policy, to which a tradition of peace and nonintervention gives such an imposing character of justice and grandeur. Everyone at home, everyone for himself is the policy of selfishness, that is what people will say. A terrible objection if it had any common sense. Yes, everyone at home, when it comes to brute force, but let the influence of moral strength, intellectual and economic, emanating from each national center freely mingle and their contact give out light and fraternity for the benefit of the human race. It is very strange that we are accused of selfishness, we who always support expansion against restriction. Our code is this: “The least possible contact between governments, the most contact possible between peoples.” Why? Because contact between governments compromises peace, whereas contact between peoples guarantees it. Security abroad. Yes, I agree that there is an interlocutory question to be resolved. Are we or are we not threatened with invasion? There are some who sincerely believe that there is danger. Other kings, they say, are too interested in extinguishing the revolutionary flame in France not to flood it with their soldiers if France disarms. Those who think this way are right to demand that our forces be maintained. However, they have to accept the consequences. If we maintain our forces, we cannot reduce our expenditure significantly and we should not reduce taxes; it would even be our duty to increase them, since budgets are settled in deficit each year. If we increase our taxes there is one thing of which we are not sure, and that is that we will increase our revenue; one thing, however, on which there is no possible doubt is that we will generate disaffection, hatred, and resistance in this country, and we will have ensured security abroad only at the expense of security at home. For my part, I would not hesitate to vote in favor of disarmament, since I do not believe there will be invasions. Where will they come from? Spain? Italy? Prussia? Austria? That is impossible. There remain England and Russia. England! She has already tried the experiment, and twenty-two billion of debt on which workers are still paying the interest is a lesson that cannot be lost. Russia! That is just an illusion. Contact with France is not what she is seeking but rather what she is avoiding. And if Emperor Nicholas thought of sending two hundred thousand Muscovites to us, I sincerely believe that what it would be best for us to do would be to welcome them, have them taste the sweetness of our wines, show them our streets, our shops, our museums, the happiness of our people, and the gentleness and equitableness of our penal laws, following which we would say to them: “Retrace your path to your steppes as quickly as possible and tell your fellow men what you have seen.” Protection for trade. People say, “Do we not need a powerful navy to open out new routes for our trade and control distant markets?” Truly the ways of government toward trade are strange. They start by hindering it, hampering it, restricting it, and stifling it at huge expense. Then if a fraction of it escapes, that same government becomes deeply attached to such few crumbs as have succeeded in passing through the nets of the customs service. We want to protect traders, they say, and to do this we will seize 250 million from the public in order to cover the oceans with ships and cannon. But first of all, 99 percent of French trade is carried out with countries in which our flag has never appeared nor will ever appear. Have we got trading posts in England, the United States, Belgium, Spain, the Zollverein, or Russia? This must therefore concern Mayotte and Nosibé;27 that is to say, more is being taken away from us in taxes in francs than we are receiving in centimes through this trade. And then, what is controlling the markets? Just one thing: low prices. Send products that cost five sous more than similar products from England or Switzerland anywhere you like and ships and cannon will not ensure that you sell them. Send products that cost five sous less there and you will not need cannon or ships to sell them. Do we not know that Switzerland, which does not have a single boat, unless there are some on its lakes, has even ousted from Gibraltar some English fabrics, in spite of the guard that is on watch at its gates? If, therefore, low prices are the true protectors of trade, how does our government go about achieving them? First of all, it raises the cost of raw materials, all tools of the trade, and all consumer products through customs duties; then, to compensate, it burdens us with taxes on the pretext of sending its navy to seek outlets. This is barbarism, the most barbaric barbarism, and it will not be long before people say: “The French in the nineteenth century had very strange trading systems; they ought at least to have refrained from considering themselves to be in the century of enlightenment.” Balance of power in Europe. We need an army to keep a watch on the balance of power in Europe. The English say the same, and balance becomes what the wind of revolution makes it. The subject is too wide-ranging for me to tackle it here. I will say just a little about it. “Let us mistrust metaphor,” said Paul-Louis,28 and he was very right. Here it is, as presented to us on three occasions in the form of balances. First of all, we have the balance of the European powers, then the balance of powers, and finally the balance of trade. Volumes would be needed to list the evils that have resulted from these alleged balances, and I am just writing an article. Internal security. The worst enemy of logic, after metaphor, is the vicious circle. Well, here we are encountering one vicious in the highest degree. “Let us crush the taxpayers in order to have a great army, and then let us have a great army to contain the taxpayers.” Is this not the position we are in? What internal security can we expect from a financial system whose effect is to generate general disaffection and whose result is bankruptcy and its political consequences? I myself believe that if we allowed the workers to breathe, if they had the feeling that all that could be done for them was being done, the disruptors of public peace would have very few grounds for disturbance at their disposal. Certainly the National Guard, the police, and the gendarmerie would be enough to contain them. And last, we have to take account of the terrors that are specific to the age in which we are living. They are very natural and very justified. Let us strike a bargain with them and allocate two hundred thousand men to them until times improve. You can see that my devotion to my point of view does not make me either absolutist or stubborn. Let us now sum up the situation. We have formulated our program thus: “reduce taxes—reduce expenditure in a greater proportion.” This is a program that is bound to lead to balance, not via the path of distress, but via that of general prosperity. In the initial part of this article, we have proposed to abolish various taxes, thus involving a loss of one hundred million in revenue, compared with the budget presented by the cabinet. Our program will therefore be fulfilled if the preceding considerations result in a reduction of expenditure in excess of a hundred million. However, apart from the cuts that would be manageable in various services if only we had a little faith in freedom, cuts that I am not requesting out of respect for a misguided public opinion, we have the following items: 1.The costs of collection. As soon as indirect taxes are reduced, the incitement to fraud will be blunted. Fewer hindrances will be needed, fewer annoying formalities, less inquisitorial surveillance, in a word, fewer employees. What can be done in this respect just in the Customs Service alone is huge—let us say, ten million. 2.The administrative costs of criminal justice. In the entire physical universe, there are no two facts that are more closely connected than destitution and crime. If the effect of the implementation of our plan has the necessary result of increasing the well-being and work of the people, it is inevitable that the costs of pursuing, repressing, and punishing miscreants will be reduced.—For the record. 3.Assistance. The same must be said for assistance, which should decrease because of the increase in well-being.—For the record. 4.Foreign affairs. The policy of nonintervention, the one our fathers acclaimed in 1789, the one that Lamartine would have inaugurated were it not for the pressure of circumstances beyond his control, the one that Cavaignac would have been proud to carry out, this policy leads to the abolition of all the embassies. This is little from the financial point of view. It is a great deal from the political and moral point of view.—For the record. 5.The army. We have allowed two hundred thousand men for the contingencies of the moment. That makes two hundred million. Let us add fifty million for unforeseen events, withdrawals, payments for being on call, etc. Compared with the official budget, the savings are one hundred million. 6.The navy. One hundred thirty million are being requested. Let us allow eighty million and return fifty million to the taxpayers. Trade will be all the more prosperous. 7.Public works. I am not a great partisan, I admit, of savings whose result is the slumbering or death of committed capital. However, we must bow to necessity. We are being asked for 194 million. Let us remove thirty million. Without much effort, we will thus obtain, in round figures, two hundred million of savings in expenditure, against one hundred million in revenue. We are thus on the path to balance, and my task is fulfilled. That of the cabinet and the National Assembly, however, is just beginning. And here, in closing, I will spell out my entire thinking. I believe that the proposed plan, or any other based on the same principles, can on its own save the Republic, the country, and society. All the parts of this plan are linked together. If you take only the first, to reduce taxes, you will be advancing toward revolution through bankruptcy. If you take just the second, to reduce expenditure, you will be advancing toward revolution through destitution. By adopting the plan in its entirety, you will simultaneously avoid bankruptcy, destitution, and revolutions, and on top of this, you will do the people good. It therefore forms a complete system, which has to stand or fall in its entirety. However, I fear that a unitary and methodical plan cannot spring from nine hundred brains. Nine hundred projects may well emerge, which will clash with each other, but not one project that will triumph. In spite of the goodwill of the National Assembly, the opportunity will be missed and the country lost if the cabinet does not take the initiative vigorously. However, the cabinet is rejecting this initiative. They presented their budget, which does nothing for the taxpayer and leads to a frightful deficit. They then said: “We do not have to issue an overall view, and we will discuss the details when the time comes.” In other words, “We are handing over the destiny of France to chance or rather to probabilities that are as terrifying as they are certain.” And why is this when the cabinet is made up of competent men, patriots and financiers? It is doubtful whether any other government could have accomplished the work of common salvation better. They are not even trying. Why? Because they have entered office with a preconceived idea. A preconceived idea! I should have placed you, as the scourge of all reasoning and conduct, far ahead of the metaphor and the vicious circle! The government has said to itself, “We cannot do anything with this Assembly, since we will not have a majority!” I will not examine all the disastrous consequences of this preconceived idea here. When it is believed that an Assembly is an obstacle, the wish to dissolve it is very close. When one wishes to dissolve an Assembly, one is very close to taking steps to achieve this purpose. In this way, great efforts have been made to do harm just at the time when it was so urgent to devote them to doing good. Time and strength have been worn out in a deplorable conflict. And, I say this with my hand on my heart, in this conflict the cabinet was in the wrong. For after all, to base their action or rather their inertia on the premise “We will not have a majority,” they needed at least to put forward something useful and then wait for a refusal to cooperate. The president of the Republic traced a wiser path when he said on the day of his installation, “I have no reason to believe that I will not agree with the National Assembly.” On what, therefore, did the cabinet base themselves when they set the point of departure of their policy in an opposing direction in advance? On the fact that the National Assembly had shown sympathy for the candidature of General Cavaignac. However, the cabinet members have thus not understood that there is one thing that the Assembly places a hundred and a thousand times above General Cavaignac! That is the will of the people, expressed through universal suffrage, by virtue of a constitution formulated by the will of the people itself. For my part, I say that, to express its respect for the will of the people and the constitution, our twin anchors of salvation, the Assembly might have been easier with Bonaparte than with Cavaignac himself. Yes, if the government, instead of starting by promoting the conflict, had come to the Assembly to say, “The election of 20 December29 puts an end to the period of agitation of our revolution, and now let us concentrate in concert on the good of the people and administrative and financial reform,” I say with certainty that the Assembly would have followed them enthusiastically since it has a passion for good and cannot have any other. Now the opportunity has been lost, and if we do not secure its rebirth, woe to our finances and woe to the country for centuries to come. Well then! I believe that if each person forgets his complaints and represses his bitterness, France can still be saved. Ministers of the Republic, do not say: “We will act later; we will look for reforms with another Assembly.” Do not make such statements, for France is on the brink of an abyss. She does not have the time to wait for you. A government frozen, made rigid by inertia! That has never been seen before. And what a time you have chosen to present us with this sight! It is true that the country—ruined, wounded, and bruised—does not blame you for its suffering. All its prejudices are turned against the National Assembly; this is certainly a circumstance that is as convenient as it is rare for a cabinet. But do you not know that any false prejudice is fleeting? If, through a vigorous initiative, you had formally warned the Assembly and it refused to follow you, you would have been justified and the country would have been right. But you did not do this. Sooner or later, its eyes will inevitably be opened, and if you continue to put nothing forward, try nothing, and direct nothing and later the state of our finances becomes irreparable, the prejudice of the day may well absolve you, but history will never absolve you. It has now been decided that the National Assembly will produce the budget. But will an assembly of nine hundred members, left to its own devices, be able to accomplish such a complex work, one that requires such a high degree of agreement between all its parts and components? From the parliamentary tumult there may well emerge a few fumblings, impulses, and aspirations; a financial plan will not emerge. This at least is my conviction. If it enters the mind of the cabinet to leave the reins loose at the mercy of chance, reins that have assuredly not been entrusted to it for this purpose, if its members are resolved to remain impassive and indifferent spectators of the vain efforts of the Assembly, the Assembly should refrain from undertaking a work that it cannot accomplish alone and should decline any responsibility for a situation that it has not caused. But this will not happen. No, France will not have to go through this disaster too. The cabinet will take the initiative incumbent on it energetically, with no mental reservations and in a spirit of selflessness. It will present a plan for financial reform based on this twin principle: reduce taxes—reduce expenditures in an even greater proportion. And the Assembly will vote for it with enthusiasm, without dragging matters out and becoming bogged down in the details. To relieve the people, make the Republic loved, base security on popular approval, make good the deficit, raise confidence, breathe new life into work, restore credit, diminish deprivation, reassure Europe, bring about justice, freedom, and peace, and offer the world the sight of a great people who have never been better governed than when they are governed by themselves: is there nothing in this to awaken the noble ambition of a government and arouse the soul of the man who carries the heritage of the name Napoléon! A heritage that, in spite of the glory surrounding it, has two jewels that shine by their absence, peace and freedom! Consequences of the Reduction of the Salt Tax (Le Journal des débats, 1 January 1849)The immediate reduction of the salt tax has disoriented the cabinet in one respect, with good reason. It is being said that we are seeking new taxes to fill the gap. Is this really what the Assembly wanted? Reductions would be only a game and one of these unfortunate games in which everyone loses. What is the meaning of their vote, then? It is this: expenditure is constantly rising; there is just one means of forcing the state to reduce expenditure, and that is to make it absolutely impossible for the state to do otherwise. The means the Assembly has adopted is heroic, we must agree. What is still more serious is that the reform of the salt tax was preceded by the reform of the postal services and will probably be followed by the reform of wines and spirits. The government is disoriented. Well then! For my part, I say that the Assembly could not put it in a better position. This is a wonderful, and one might say providential, opportunity to go down a new path, to put an end to false philanthropy and warlike passions and, converting its failure into triumph, to deliver security, confidence, credit, and prosperity from a vote that appeared to compromise it and at last to found a republican politics on these two great principles, peace and freedom. Following the resolution from the Assembly, I was expecting, I must admit, the president of the Council to ascend the rostrum and make a speech along these lines: “Citizen Representatives, “Your vote yesterday has shown us a new path; more than this, it obliges us to go down it. “You know how much the February revolution aroused illusory hopes and dangerous theorizing. These hopes and systems, clad in the false colors of philanthropy and entering this chamber in the form of draft laws, were directed at nothing less than destroying freedom and swallowing up the public wealth. We did not know which way to turn. Rejecting all these projects was to upset public opinion in a temporary state of exaltation; accepting them was to compromise the future, violate all rights, and distort the attributions of the state. What were we to do? Procrastinate, compromise, accommodate error, give partial satisfaction to the utopians, enlighten the people through the hard lesson of experience, and create administrative departments with the ulterior purpose of abolishing them later, which is not easy to do. Now, thanks to the Assembly, we are at ease. Do not come any longer to ask us to monopolize education or credit, finance agriculture, favor certain industries, and turn charitable giving into a system. We have finished with the harmful tail of socialism. Your vote has delivered the death blow to its dreaming. We no longer even have to discuss it, for where would discussion lead, since you have removed from us the means to carry out these dangerous experiments? If someone knows the secret of carrying out official philanthropy with no money, let him come forward; here are our portfolios, we will hand them over to him with joy. As long as they remain in our hands, in the new situation that has been established for us, it remains for us only to proclaim freedom as the basis of our domestic policy, freedom for the arts, sciences, agriculture, industry, work, trade, the press, and teaching, for freedom is the only system compatible with a reduced budget. The state needs money to regulate and oppress. No money, no regulation. Our role, with very little expenditure, will henceforward be limited to repressing abuses, that is to say, preventing one citizen’s freedom from being exercised at the expense of another’s. “Our foreign policy is no less clearly marked and obligatory. We were making compromises and we were still fumbling; now we are irrevocably directed, not only by choice but also by necessity. Happy, a thousand times happy that this necessity imposes on us exactly the policy that we would have adopted by choice. We are resolved to reduce our military posture. You should clearly note that there is nothing to discuss in this regard; we have to act, for we have the choice of disarmament or bankruptcy. It is said that one should choose the lesser of two evils. Here, according to us, the only choice is between an immense good and a terrible evil and, in spite of this, even yesterday the choice was not an easy one for us. False philanthropy and warlike passions stood in our way, and we had to take them into consideration. Today they have forcibly been reduced to silence, for whatever people say about passion failing to reason, it nevertheless cannot lack reason to the point of demanding that we wage war with no money. We have therefore come to this rostrum to proclaim disarmament as a fact, and consequently that nonintervention is the basis of our foreign policy. Let nobody speak to us any longer of preponderance and dominance; let nobody point to Hungary, Italy, and Poland as fields of glory and carnage. We know what can be said for or against armed propaganda when we have the choice. But you will not disagree that when you no longer have it, controversy is superfluous. The army will be reduced to what is necessary to guarantee the independence of the country, and at the same time all nations may henceforward count on their independence as far as we are concerned. Let them carry out their reforms as they will; let them undertake only that which they can accomplish. We will let them know loudly and clearly that none of the parties that divide them can count on the support of our bayonets. What am I saying? They do not even need our protestations, since these bayonets will be returned to their sheaths or rather, for added security, they will be converted into ploughshares. “I can hear interruptions coming down from these benches; you are saying: ‘This is the policy of everyone at home, everyone for himself.’ Even yesterday we might have discussed the value of this policy, since we were free to adopt another. Yesterday, I would have quoted reasons. I would have said, ‘Yes, everyone at home, everyone for himself, as long as it is a matter of brute force.’ This is not to say that the links between peoples will be broken. Let us have philosophical, scientific, artistic, literary, and trade relations with everyone. Through this, humanity will become enlightened and make progress. However, I do not want relations at the point of a sword and the barrel of a gun. It is a strange abuse of words to say that families that get on well with one another conduct their lives according to the principle “Every man’s home is his castle” simply because they don’t visit each other armed to the teeth.30 Besides, what would we say if, to end our differences, Lord Palmerston sent us English regiments? Would not our cheeks flush with indignation? How is it therefore that we refuse to believe that other peoples also cherish their dignity and independence? This is what I would have said yesterday, for when there is a choice between two policies, the one that is preferred has to be justified by the giving of reasons. Today, I am merely invoking necessity, since we no longer have any option. The majority, who have refused us the revenue in order to oblige us to reduce expenditure, would not be so inconsistent as to impose a ruinous policy on us. If anyone, knowing that the taxes on the post, salt, and wines and spirits are going to be reduced considerably, knowing that we are facing a deficit of five hundred million, still has the temerity to proclaim the clear need for armed propaganda, or who, threatening Europe, obliges us, even in peacetime, to undertake ruinous efforts, let him stand up and take this portfolio. As for us, we will not assume the shame of such puerility. Therefore, from today onward, the policy of nonintervention is proclaimed. From today onward, measures will be taken to dismiss part of the army. From today onward, orders will go out to abolish useless embassies. “Peace and freedom! This is the policy that we would have adopted by conviction. We would thank the Assembly for having made it an absolute and clear necessity for us. It will ensure the salvation, glory, and prosperity of the republic and will ensure that history will retain our names.” Here, it seems to me, is what the current cabinet ought to have said. Its words would have received the unanimous approval of the Assembly, France, and Europe. 16Discourse on the Tax on Wines and Spirits1 ,2[vol. 5, p. 468. “Discours sur l’impôt des boissons.” 12 December 1849. n.p.] Citizen Representatives, I wanted to discuss the question of the tax on wines and spirits as it appears to me to exist in the understandings of all of you, that is to say, from the point of view of financial and political necessity. I thought, in effect, that necessity was the only reason invoked to support the retention of this tax; I believed that in your eyes it brought together all the features by which economic science teaches us to recognize bad taxes. I believed that it had been accepted that this tax is unjust and inequitable and that its collection involved extremely tedious and annoying formalities. However, since the reproaches directed against this tax by all statesmen since its inception are now being disputed, I will say a few quick words about it. First of all, we claim that the tax is unjust and base our claim on the following: Here are parcels of land that are side by side and subject to a land tax, a direct tax. These parcels are classified and compared with each other and taxed in accordance with their value. Subsequently, each person may grow anything he wants on them; some grow wheat, others pasture, yet others carnations and roses, and others vines. Well then, of all these products, there is one and only one that, once it has entered into circulation, is subject to a tax that yields 106 million to the treasury. All the other agricultural products are free from this tax. It might be said that the tax is useful and necessary, and this is not the subject with which I wish to deal, but it cannot be said that it is not unjust from the owner’s point of view. It is true that it is said that the tax does not fall on the producer. I will examine this later. We then say that the tax is badly distributed. In fact, I was very surprised that this has been disputed, since . . . (interruption) A member on the right:Speak a little louder! The president:Will the Assembly be silent please? M. F. Bastiat:I am even ready to abandon this argument in the interest of speed. Various voices:Speak! Speak! M. F. Bastiat:The matter seems to me to be so clear, it is so obvious that the tax is badly distributed that, truly, it is embarrassing to demonstrate this. When we see, for example, that a man who, in an orgy, drinks six francs’ worth of champagne pays the same tax as a worker who needs to restore his strength for work and drinks six sous’ worth of ordinary wine, it is impossible to say that there is no inequality, no monstrousness in the distribution of the tax on wines and spirits. (Hear! Hear!) Calculus has almost been used to establish that the tax is negligible, that these are fractions of a centime and ought not to be taken into account. In this way, a class of citizens has been burdened with 106 million of an iniquitous tax by being told: “This is nothing. You should consider yourselves fortunate!” The men who invoke this argument ought to be telling you: “We are operating such and such an industry, and we are so convinced that the tax, by being split up, cannot be felt by the consumer on whom it falls that we are subjecting ourselves to the indirect tax and to the “exercise”3 in the case of the industry we are involved with. The day when these men come to the rostrum to say this, I will say: “They are sincere in their defense of the tax on wines and spirits.” But anyhow here are some figures. In the Department of the Ain, the average wholesale price of wine is eleven francs, and the average retail sales price in forty-one francs. This is a considerable difference; it is obvious that he who is able to buy wine wholesale pays eleven francs and that he who is obliged to purchase it retail pays forty-one francs. Between eleven and forty-one francs the difference is thirty francs. (Interruption.) A member on the right:It is not the tax that causes this difference; this is the same for all goods. The president:M. de Charencey has done his calculations; allow the speaker to do his own. M. F. Bastiat:I could quote other départements, but I have taken the first on the list. Doubtless, there is profit to the salesman, but the tax is a considerable proportion of this difference. In the last two days, efforts have been made to prove such extraordinary things that I really would not be surprised if efforts were made to prove that the tax harmed no one, neither the producer nor the consumer. But if this is so, let us tax everything, not just wines but all products! I then say that the tax is very costly to collect. I will not quote figures to prove this; figures can be used to prove a great many things. When figures are quoted on this rostrum, people think they are giving them great authority by saying: “These are official figures.” However, official figures mislead just like the others; it all depends on the use made of them. The fact is that when we see functionaries, and well-paid ones, operating across the entire territory of France in order to collect this tax, we are quite justified in our belief that its collection is very expensive. Last, let us note that the collection of this tax is accompanied by tedious and annoying formalities. This is a point that the speakers who preceded me on this rostrum have not dealt with. This does not surprise me since all or nearly all of them come from départements that do not grow vines. If they lived in our départements, they would know that the complaints of vineyard owners against the tax on wines and spirits are directed less against the tax itself, its magnitude, than against these annoying, anger-provoking, and dangerous formalities, which are seen as so many traps set at every stage under their feet. (Approval from the left.) Everyone understands that when this extraordinary thought, this immense utopia—for it was immense then—was conceived, namely, establishing a duty on the circulation of wines without a prior inventory being carried out, everyone, I say, understands that, in order to ensure its collection, it was necessary to conceive a code of the most severely preventive kind, even to the point of harassment, since otherwise how would they have done it? It was necessary that, for a cask of wine to circulate openly in a commune there had to be an employee to determine whether it was in accordance with the rules or not. That cannot be done without an army of employees and a host of irritating interventions against which, I repeat, the taxpayers complain even more than against the tax itself. The tax on wines and spirits has another very serious consequence, which I have not heard pointed out on this rostrum. The tax on wines and spirits has caused a disturbance in that great economic phenomenon that is known as the division of labor. In former times, vines were grown in soils that were suited to them, on the slopes of hills and on gravel. Wheat was grown on the plateaus and flat open fields and on alluvial soil. In the beginning an inventory4 was devised, but this method of tax collection caused an uprising among all the landowners. They invoked the rights of property and, as there were three million of them, they were listened to. The burden was then cast onto the café owners and, as there were only three hundred thousand of them, it was declared that, in principle, the property of three hundred thousand men was not property to the same extent as that of three million men although, as it happens, property has always had only the one basis, in my opinion. But what was the result for the landowners? I believe that the landowners themselves bear the weight of the fault and injustice they then committed. Since they enjoyed the privilege of consuming their products without paying tax, it transpired that, either to avoid the tax or to avoid in particular and above all the formalities and risks to which its collection subjects people, the owners of flat, open fields and alluvial soils all wanted to have vines on their property for their own consumption. In the département that I represent here, or at least in the major part of this département, I can state positively that there is not one sharecropping farm on which there are not sufficient vines planted for the family’s consumption. These vines produce very bad wine, but this offers the immense advantage of being free from the intervention of indirect taxes and all the risks attached to inspections. This fact explains to a certain extent the increase in the numbers of vines planted that has been pointed out. This increase is oft en set against the complaints of the landowners, who claim to be the victims of injustice; and the landowners appear to be told: “This injustice does not count; it is nothing, since vines are being planted in France.” First of all, I would like someone to quote me an industry that, in the period from 1788 to 1850, the space of sixty-two years, has not expanded in this proportion. I would like to know, for example, if the coal, iron, and cloth industries have not expanded in this proportion. I would like to know if there is any industry of which it can be said that it has not grown by a quarter in the space of sixty years. Would it be so very surprising that, following its natural development, the industry most firmly rooted in our soil, the industry that is able to provide the entire universe with its products, should increase by this amount? However, this increase, sirs, is provoked by the law itself. It is the law that causes people to dig up vines on the hill slopes and plant them in the flat fields to avoid the vexations of indirect taxation. That is a huge and obvious disturbance. I ask you to allow me to draw your entire attention to a fact that is almost local in character, since it concerns only a single district, but is of major importance, at least in my eyes, since it is linked to a general law. This fact, sirs, will also be useful in replying to the argument brought to this rostrum when, invoking the authority of Adam Smith, it was said that the tax always falls on the consumer, with the implication that, for the last forty years, all the owners of vineyards in France have been wrong to complain and ignorant of what they have been talking about. Yes, I am one of those who believe that tax falls on the consumer, but I also add this aside: it is in the long term, with the passage of time, when all the properties have changed hands following economic arrangements that take a long time to be concluded, that this great result is achieved, and for all the time that this revolution lasts, suffering may be great, enormous. I will give you an example. In my district,5 which is a vine-growing one, there used to be great prosperity. There was general well-being. Vines were grown and the wine was consumed in the local area, in the surrounding plains where vines were not grown, or abroad in northern Europe. Suddenly, the customs war on the one hand, the war of city tolls on the other, and the amalgamation taxes6 came along and depreciated the value of this wine. The region of which I am speaking was cultivated in its entirety, especially with regard to vines, by sharecroppers. Sharecroppers retained one half and the landowner the other half of the product. The areas of the sharecropper farms were cultivated in such a way that a sharecropper and his family were able to live on the value of the half quantity of wine that remained to them, but when the value of the wine depreciated, the sharecropper was no longer able to live on his share. He then went to his landowner and told him: “I can no longer cultivate your vines if you do not feed me.” The landowner gave him corn to live on and then, at the end of the year, he took the entire harvest to reimburse himself for his advance. Since the harvest was not enough to cover the advance, the contract was modified, not before the notary but in practice; the landowner had workers to whom he gave their food only in corn, as a total payment for their work. However, a way out of this situation had to be found, and this is how the revolution was carried out. The sharecropping farms were expanded; that is to say, two were formed out of three or one out of two. Then, by grubbing up a few fields of vines and by growing corn in their place, it was said: “The sharecropper can live on this corn and the landowner will no longer be obliged to give him extra corn to ensure his subsistence.” Over all the communes, people thus saw houses being torn down and sharecropping farms destroyed. Consequently, as many families as share-cropping farms were destroyed; depopulation became rife, and in the last twenty-five years the number of deaths has exceeded that of births. Doubtless, when the revolution is fully completed, when the landowners have bought for ten thousand francs what used to cost them thirty thousand francs, when the number of sharecroppers is reduced to the level of the means of subsistence that the region is able to provide, then I believe that the population will no longer be able to blame the tax on wines and spirits. The revolution will be complete, and the tax will fall on the consumer; however, this revolution will be achieved at the price of suffering that will have endured for one or two centuries. I ask whether it is for this that we are making laws. I ask whether we raise taxes to torment the population, to oblige them to shift work from the hill slopes to the flat fields and from the flat fields to the hill slopes. I ask whether this is the aim of legislation. For my part, I do not think so. Sirs, however much we attack the tax and say that it is inequitable, vexatious, costly, and unjust, there is one reason before which everyone bows his head; that reason is necessity. It is necessity that is invoked. It is necessity that obliges you to bring to this rostrum words that justify the tax. It is necessity and only necessity that determines your action. Financial problems are feared, as are the results of a reform (for I may properly call it a reform) whose immediate consequence would be to withhold one hundred million from the public treasury; it is therefore about necessity that I wish to speak. Sirs, I admit that necessity exists and is very insistent. Yes, the balance sheet, not of France but of the French government, can be summed up in very few words. For the last twenty or twenty-five years, taxpayers have been supplying the treasury with a sum that, I believe, has doubled in this period. Successive governments have found ways to devour the original sum, the surplus supplied by taxpayers; to add a public debt of one or two billion to it; to reach at the start of the year a deficit of five or six hundred million; and finally to start the next year with an assured overdraft of three hundred million. This is the position we are in. I believe that it is well worth the trouble to ask what the cause of this situation is and whether it is prudent in the face of this cause to tell us that the best thing to do is to restore things to the state they were in before, to change nothing or hardly anything in our financial system, or else to change imperceptibly, either with regard to revenue or to expenditure. I seem to see an engineer who has started a locomotive and caused a catastrophe, who then discovers where the fault lay and, without taking any other action, puts it back on the same rails and runs the same risk a second time. (Approval from the left.) Yes, necessity exists but it is double. There are two necessities. Finance minister, you mention only one necessity, but I will point out another, one that is extremely serious. I consider that it is even more serious than the one about which you are talking. This necessity is encapsulated in a single phrase: the February revolution. There occurred, following abuses (since I call abuses everything that has led our finances into the state they are in now), an event; this event is sometimes said by people to have been a surprise. I do not think it was a surprise. It is possible that the external event was the result of an accident that would have been stopped. . . . M. Barthélemy Saint-Hilaire: Delayed! Several other members on the left:Yes! Yes! Delayed! M. Bastiat:But the general causes are not at all fortuitous. It is just as though you were saying to me, when a passing breeze causes fruit to fall from its tree, that if we could have prevented the breeze from blowing, the fruit would not have fallen. Yes, but on one condition and that is that the fruit was not rotten and gnawed. (Approval from the left.) This event happened, this event has given political power to the entire mass of the population; that is a serious event. M. Fould, minister of finance:Why did the provisional government not abolish the tax on wines and spirits? M. Bastiat:It did not consult me, it did not submit a draft law to me and I was not called upon to give it advice; however, we have a draft here, and in rejecting your draft I am in a good position to tell you the reasons on which I base my reasoning. I base my reasoning on this: not one but two necessities weigh upon you. The second necessity, as imperious as the first, is to do justice to all citizens. (Agreement from the left.) Well then! I say that following the revolution that has occurred, you ought to be concerned with the political state in which France finds itself and the fact that this political state is deplorable; allow me the word. I do not attribute this to the men governing it now; it goes back a long way. Do you not see that in France a bureaucracy that has become an aristocracy is devouring the country? Industry is dying out and the people are suffering. I am fully aware that the people are seeking a remedy in wild utopias, but this is no reason for opening the door to these by leaving flagrant injustices to exist such as those I have been pointing out on this rostrum. I believe that not enough attention is being paid to the state of suffering that exists in this country and to the causes of this suffering. These causes are rooted in the 1.5 billion raised in a country that cannot pay this sum. I would ask you to have a very mundane thought, but for goodness’ sake, I oft en indulge in one. I ask myself what has happened to my childhood and school friends. And do you know what the answer is? Out of twenty, there are fifteen who are civil servants, and I am convinced that if you do the calculation, you will reach the same result. (Approving laughter from the left.) M. Bérard:That is what causes revolutions. M. Bastiat:I also ask myself another question and it is this: taking them one by one, in all honesty, are they giving the country a genuine service worth what the country is paying them? And almost always I am obliged to reply: that is not the case. Is it not deplorable that this huge amount of labor and intelligence has been withdrawn from the genuine production of the country to supply civil servants who are useless and almost always harmful? For when it comes to civil servants, there is no halfway house: if they are not very useful indeed, they are harmful; if they do not uphold the freedom of citizens, they stifle it. (Approval from the left.) I say that this calls for necessary, nay absolutely imperative action by the government. What is the plan being proposed to us? I say frankly, if the minister had come and said: “The tax must be maintained for a short while, but here is a financial reform that I am putting forward. This is the plan in its entirety, but a certain period is needed for it to be accomplished. We need four or five years; we cannot do everything at once,” I would have understood this necessity and I might have acceded to it. But nothing of the sort has happened. We are being told: “Let us reestablish the tax on wines and spirits.” I do not even know whether we are not being made to feel that the salt tax and the postal tax will be reestablished. As for your reductions in expenditure, they are derisory: three thousand or four thousand soldiers more or less; however, it will be the very same financial system which in my view cannot last much longer in this country without ruining it. (New burst of approval from the left.) Sirs, it is impossible to discuss this subject without doing so from this point of view: will France be ruined within a very short space of time? For I will be so bold as to ask the minister of finance how long he thinks he can prolong this system. It is not enough to reach the end of the year with an approximate balance between revenue and expenditure; we have to know if this can continue. However, with this in mind, I really do have to discuss the question of tax in general. (Signs of impatience from the right.) A number of voices:Speak! Speak! The president:You have the floor. M. Bastiat:I believe, sirs, that I have the right to come here on my own authority to express ideas, even absurd ones. Other speakers have come here to put forward their ideas and I make so bold as to believe that their ideas were no clearer than mine. You heard them patiently; you did not welcome M. Proudhon’s plan for general liquidation any more than M. Considérant’s phalanstery, but you listened to them. You went even further; M. Thiers spoke for you all to say that whoever thought he had an idea of any use was under an obligation to bring it to this rostrum. Well then! When people say: “Speak!” when something of a challenge is thrown down, it must at least be listened to. (Hear! Hear!) Sirs, we have lately spent a great deal of time on the tax question. Should taxes be direct or indirect? A short time ago we heard indirect taxes being praised. Well! For my part, I am raising my voice against indirect taxes in general. I believe that there is a law of taxation which dominates the entire question, and which I encapsulate in this formula: the inequality of taxation lies in its mass. By that I mean that the lighter a tax is, the easier it is to spread it equitably. On the other hand, the heavier it is, the more likely it is, in spite of the good intentions of the legislator, to be spread inequitably and, as may be said, the more it tends to become regressive, that is to say, to burden citizens in inverse proportion to their ability to pay. I believe that this is a serious and inevitable law, and its consequences are of such importance that I ask your permission to clarify it. I will suppose for the sake of argument that France has been governed for a long time according to my proposals, which would consist in the government’s keeping each citizen within the limits of his rights and of justice and abandoning everything else to the responsibility of each person. This is my starting point. It is easy to see that in this case France could be governed with two hundred or three hundred million. It is clear that if France were governed with two hundred million, it would be easy to establish a single, proportional tax. (Murmurs.) This hypothesis of mine will become reality. The only question is whether it will do so by virtue of the foresight of the legislator or by way of age-old political convulsions. (Approval from the left.) The idea is not mine; if it was, I would distrust it, but we see that all the peoples of the world are more or less happy depending on whether they approach or distance themselves from the achievement of this idea. It has been achieved more or less totally in the United States. In Massachusetts there are no taxes other than direct taxes that are unique and proportional. Consequently, if this be so, and it is easy to understand it since I am elucidating only the principle, nothing would be easier than to ask citizens to pay a proportional part of the assets they accumulate. This would be so inconsequential that no one would be tempted, at least to any great extent, to hide his wealth in order to escape it. This is the first part of my axiom. However, if you ask citizens to pay, not two hundred million but five hundred, six hundred, or eight hundred million, then as you increase taxes, direct taxes will escape your control and it is clear that you will reach a stage when a citizen would rather take up his gun than pay the state half his wealth, for example. A member:As in the Ardèche. M. Bastiat:So you will not be paid. What will you do then? You will have to turn to indirect taxes; this is what happens wherever major expenditure is wanted. Everywhere, as soon as the state wants to give citizens all sorts of benefits, such as education, religion, or a moral code, people are obliged to pay that state considerable indirect taxes. Well then! I say that when you go down this path, you become mired in tax inequality. Inequality always stems from the indirect taxes themselves. The reason for this is simple. If expenditure were kept within certain limits, some indirect taxes which infringe equality but which would not arouse a feeling of injustice might certainly be found, because these would be luxury taxes; however, when the wish is to raise a great deal of money, then the schema I am assuming will operate leads to the articulation of a true principle, to the effect that the best tax is the one that affects the most generally consumed objects. This is a principle that all our financiers and statesmen acknowledge. And in fact, it is very consequent in the case of governments bent on taking as much money as possible from the people, but in this case the price is the most glaring inequality. What is an object of mass consumption? It is one that the poor consume in the same proportion as the rich. It is an object on which workers spend all their earnings. Thus, a currency trader earns five hundred francs a day, a worker earns five hundred francs a year, and justice would like the currency trader’s five hundred francs to produce as much for the treasury as the worker’s five hundred francs. But this does not happen, for the currency trader will buy drapes, bronzes, and luxury items with his money, that is to say, objects of limited consumption that are not taxed, whereas the worker buys wine, salt, or tobacco, that is to say, objects of mass consumption that are weighed down by taxes. (Murmurs and various interruptions.) M. Lacaze:If the currency trader did not buy these objects, he would not give the worker a living. M. Bastiat:Would the abolition of the tax on wines and spirits prevent the currency trader from buying bronzes and drapes? No financier will contradict my argument. Under indirect taxation, a system that I disapprove of, it is all too reasonable to tax only the objects of the greatest mass consumption. In this way you start charging for the air we breathe with a tax on doors and windows, followed by salt, then wines and spirits and tobacco, and finally everything within the reach of everyone. I say that these arrangements cannot last in the face of universal suffrage. I add that he who does not see necessity from this point of view too, and sees only the necessity to which I have just alluded, is very blind and very imprudent. (Lively approval from the left.) I have another reproach to make to indirect taxes, and that is that they create precisely the necessities people have been talking to you about, financial ones. Do you think that if each citizen were asked for his part of the contribution directly, if he were sent a tax demand showing not only the figure of what he owed for the year but the details of his contributions (for this is easy to break down: so much for the administration of justice, so much for the maintenance of public order, so much for Algeria, so much for the expedition to Rome, etc.), do you believe that this would mean that the country was not well governed?7 M. Charencey told us not long ago that with indirect taxes the country was sure to be well governed. Well then, I, for my part, say the opposite. With all these taxes misappropriated through guile, the people suffer, complain, and put the blame everywhere—capital, property, the monarchy or the Republic—when it is the tax that is the guilty party. (That is true! That is true!) This is why the government, forever finding new facilities, has increased expenditure so much. When has it stopped? When has it said: “We have excess revenue; we are going to abolish taxes.” It has never done this. When we have too much, we seek ways of using it up, and this is how the number of civil servants has increased to an enormous figure. We have been accused of being Malthusian; yes, I am a Malthusian with regard to civil servants. I am fully aware that they have followed perfectly the great law that populations reach the level of the means of subsistence. You have contributed eight hundred million; public civil servants have devoured eight hundred million. If you gave them two billion, there would be enough civil servants to devour this two billion. (Approval from several benches.) A change in a financial system brings of necessity a similar change in the political system, for a country cannot follow the same policy when the population gives it two billion as when it gives it only two hundred or three hundred million. And here you will perhaps find that I am in profound disagreement with very many members sitting on this side (on the left). For anyone who is serious, the obligatory consequence of the financial theory I am developing here is obviously this: since no one wants to give a great deal to the state, people have to know how to ask very little of it. (Agreement.) It is clear that you have the profound illusion in your head that there are two factors in society: first, the men who make it up, and second, a fictional being known as the state or the government to which you attribute a cast-iron moral code, a religion, credit, and the ability to spread benefits widely and provide assistance. It is very clear that in this case you are placing yourselves in the ridiculous position of men who say, “Give us something without taking anything from us,” or “Stay in the disastrous system in which we are at the moment.” We have to learn to renounce these ideas. We have to know how to be men and say to ourselves, “We are responsible for our existence and we will assume it.” (Hear! Hear!) Once again today, I received a petition from inhabitants of my region in which vineyard owners say, “We are not asking any of that from the government; let them leave us alone, let them leave us free to act and work. This is all we ask of them; let them protect our freedom and our security.” Well then! I believe that there is a lesson there, provided by the poor vineyard owners, which should be listened to in the largest towns. (Hear! Hear!) The domestic politics that this financial system would oblige us to enter is obviously the politics of freedom, for, and you should note this, freedom is incompatible with overbearing taxation, whatever anyone says. I have read a saying by a very famous statesman, M. Guizot, and I quote: “Freedom is too precious an asset for a nation to haggle over it.” You know, when I read this sentence a long time ago now, I said to myself, “If ever this man governs the country, he will ruin not only the finances but also the freedom of France.” And indeed, I ask you to note, as I said just now, that the public services are never neutral; if they are not essential, they are harmful. I say that there is radical incompatibility between excessive taxation and freedom. The maximum of taxation is servitude, for a slave is a man from whom everything has been taken, even the freedom of his arms and faculties. (Hear! Hear!) I put it to you, if the state did not pay for religion,8 for example, at our expense, would we not have freedom of religious practice? If the state did not pay for university education at our expense, would we not have freedom of public education? If the state did not pay the numerous members of a bureaucracy at our expense, would we not have communal and departmental freedom? If the state did not pay customs officers at our expense, would we not have freedom of trade? (Hear! Hear! A prolonged swell.) For what have the men in this country lacked the most? A little self-confidence and a feeling of responsibility. It is not very surprising that they have lost this; they have been accustomed to losing it through being governed. This country is overgoverned; that is what is wrong. The remedy is for the country to learn to govern itself, for it to learn to distinguish between the essential attributions of the state and those it has usurped at our expense from private activity. This is the nub of the problem. As for me, I say, “The number of things included in the essential attributions of the government is very limited: to ensure order and security, to keep each person within the limits of justice, that is to say, to repress misdemeanors and crimes, and to carry out a few major public works of national utility. These are, I believe, its essential attributions, and we will have no peace, no financial wherewithal, and we will not destroy the hydra of revolution if we do not regain, little by little if you like, this limited governance toward which we should be aiming. (Hear! Hear!) The second condition of such governance is that we have to want peace sincerely, for it is obvious that not only war but even the spirit of war or warlike tendencies are incompatible with a system like this. I am fully aware that the word peace sometimes causes an ironic smile to pass along these benches, but truly I do not believe that serious men can treat this word ironically. What! Will we never learn from experience? Since 1815, for example, we have been maintaining numerous armies, huge armies, and I am able to say that it is precisely these great military forces that have led us in spite of ourselves into adventures and wars, in which we would certainly not have become involved if we had not had these huge forces behind us. We would not have had the war with Spain in 1823;9 we would not have had the expedition to Rome last year; we would have let the pope and citizens of Rome reach an agreement on their own if our military structures had been limited to more modest proportions.10 (A variety of reactions.) A voice from the right:In June, you were not upset that we had the army! M. Bastiat:You quote the month of June as an answer. I tell you, for my part, that if you had not had these huge armies, you would not have had the month of June. (Prolonged hilarity on the right. Lengthy agitation.) A voice from the right:It is as though you were saying that there would have been no thieves if there were no gendarmes. M. Bérard:But it was the civil servants in the national workshops who caused the month of June. M. Bastiat:My reasoning follows the speculative idea of a well-governed France, a France almost ideally governed, in which case I am free to believe that we would not have had the disastrous days in June, just as we would not have had 24th February 1848, 1830, nor perhaps 1814. Be that as it may, freedom and peace are the two pillars of the proposals I am developing here. And please note that I am not presenting these only as being good in themselves but as being required by the most pressing necessity. At present there are people who are concerned, and rightly so, about security. I too am concerned and as much as anyone else; it is an asset that is as precious as the two others. But we are in a country that is accustomed to being governed to such an extent that no one can imagine that there can be a little order and security with less regimentation. I believe that it is precisely in this excessive government that the cause of almost all the troubles, agitations, and revolution lies, of which we are the sorry onlookers and on occasion the victims. Let us see what this implies. Society is thus divided into two parts: those who exploit and those who are exploited. (Nonsense! Lengthy interruption.)11 A voice from the right:A distinction like this will not bring peace back. M. Bastiat:Sirs, there must be no misunderstanding. I am not alluding in the slightest either to property or to capital. I am talking only about 1.8 billion that is paid on the one hand and received on the other. I was perhaps mistaken to say those who are exploited since, in this 1.8 billion there is a considerable portion that goes to men who provide very genuine services. I therefore withdraw this expression. (Mutterings at the foot of the rostrum.) The president:Silence, sirs! You are there only on condition that you keep silent more than all the others. M. Bastiat:I want to have it noted that this state of affairs, this manner of existing, this immense expenditure of the government must always be justified or explained in some way. Consequently, this aspiring of the government to do everything, run everything, and govern everything was naturally bound to give rise to a dangerous thought in the country, with the lowest stratum of the population expecting everything from the government and expecting the impossible from this government. (Hear! Hear!) We are discussing vineyard owners; I have seen vineyard owners on days when it hails, days on which they are ruined. They weep but do not blame the government. They know that there is no connection between the hail and the government. However, when you lead the population to believe that all the misfortunes that are not as sudden as hail are the fault of the government, when the government itself allows this to be believed since it receives a huge tax revenue only on condition that it does some good for the people, it is clear, when things have reached this stage, that you have constant revolution in the country since, because of the financial system I spoke of just now, the good that the government is able to do is nothing in comparison to the harm it does itself through the contributions it extorts. The people then, instead of feeling better, are more unfortunate; they suffer and blame the government and there is no lack of men in the opposition to tell them, “Look at the government that has promised you this and that . . ., which should have reduced all taxes and showered you with benefits. See how this government keeps its promises! Put us in its place and you will see how differently we will act!” (General hilarity. Signs of approval.) The government is then overturned. However, the men who gain power find themselves in exactly the same situation as those who preceded them. They are obliged to withdraw all their promises gradually. They tell those who urge them to carry out their promises, “The time has not yet come, but you can count on it that the situation will improve, count on exports, count on future prosperity.” But since in reality they do no better than their predecessors, there are even more complaints against them; they end up being overthrown, and the people go from one revolution to another. I do not believe that a revolution is possible where the only relationship between a government and its citizens is the guarantee of security and freedom for all. (Hear! Hear!) Why do people revolt against a government? Because it breaks its promises. Have you ever seen the people revolt against magistrates, for example? Their mission is to hand down justice and they do this; nobody thinks of asking any more of them. (Hear! Hear!) You should convince yourselves of one thing, and that is that a love of order, security, and tranquillity is not exclusive to any one person. It exists and is inherent in human nature. Ask all those who are discontented, among whom there are doubtless a few agitators. God knows, there are always exceptions. But ask men from all classes and they will all tell you how terrified they are these days to see order being compromised. They love order; they love it to the extent of making great sacrifices for it, sacrifices of opinion and sacrifices of freedom; we see this every day. Well then! This sentiment would be strong enough to maintain security, especially if contrary opinions were not constantly being encouraged by the incorrect constitution of the government. I will add just one word with regard to security. I am not an experienced legal expert, but I truly believe that if the government were contained within the limits I have mentioned, and all the force of its intelligence and capacity were to be directed toward this particular point: to improve citizens’ conditions of security, immense progress might be made in this direction. I do not believe that the art of repressing misdemeanors and vice, restoring morals, and reforming prisoners has made all the progress it might. I do say and do repeat that if the government aroused less jealousy on the one hand and fewer prejudices on the other and concentrated all its force on civil and penal improvements, society would have everything to gain thereby. I will stop there. I am so profoundly convinced that the ideas I have brought to this rostrum fulfill all the conditions for a government program, that they reconcile so fully freedom, justice, financial necessity, the need for order, and all the great principles that nations and humanity support; this conviction of mine is so firm that I find it hard to believe that this project can be called utopian. On the contrary, I think it likely that if Napoléon, for example, returned to earth (exclamations from the right) and was told, “Here are two systems: one aims to restrict and limit the attributions of the government and as a result, taxes, while the other aims to extend the attributes of government indefinitely and as a result, taxes, following which France will have to be made to accept amalgamation taxes,”12 I am convinced and will indeed assert that Napoléon would say that the true utopia lies on the latter side, since it was much more difficult to establish combined taxes than it would be to enter the system I have just proclaimed from this rostrum. Now I will be asked why I immediately reject the tax on wines and spirits today. I will tell you. I have just set out the theoretical dispensation that I would like the government to espouse. But since I have never seen a government exercise on itself what it considers to be a sort of semisuicide by cutting back all the attributions not essential to it, I consider myself obliged to compel it to and I can do this only by refusing it the means of continuing down a disastrous path. It is for this reason that I voted for the reduction in the salt tax, it is for this reason that I voted for postal reform, and it is for this reason that I will vote against the tax on wine and spirits. (Agreement on the left.) It is my profound conviction that if France has faith and confidence in herself, if she is certain that no one will come to attack her once she decides not to attack others, it will be easy to decrease public expenditure to an enormous extent and, even with the abolition of the tax on wines and spirits, there will be enough not only to balance revenue and expenditure but also to reduce public debt. (A host of signs of approval.) 17The Repression of Industrial Unions1[vol. 5, p. 494. “Coalitions industrielles.” 17 November 1849. This article was part of the debate in the Chamber on 17 November 1849. n.p.] Citizen Representatives, I come to support the amendment of my honorable friend M. Morin; but I cannot support it without also examining the commission’s draft. It is impossible to discuss M. Morin’s amendment without involuntarily, so to speak, entering into the general discussion, and this obliges us to discuss the commission as well. In effect, M. Morin’s amendment is more than a modification of the principal proposal; it compares one set of arrangements with another, and we cannot come to a decision without doing this comparison. Citizens, I am not bringing any partisan spirit to this discussion, nor any preconceived ideas based on class, and I will not speak to enflamed feelings. In any case, the Assembly can see that my lungs cannot battle with parliamentary storms; I need its most benevolent attention. To help our understanding of the commission’s proposals, allow me to recall a few words by the honorable recorder, M. de Vatismenil. He said, “There is a general principle in Articles 44 et seq. of the penal code, and it is this: A union, either between employers or between workers, constitutes a misdemeanor on one condition, which is that there should have been an attempt at executing it, or the actual start thereof.” This is what the law says and it answers immediately the observation made by the honorable M. Morin. He has told you, “Workers will not be able to get together therefore and meet their employer to discuss honorably with him (this is the expression he used), to discuss honorably with him the subject of their wages!” “Pardon me, but they will be able to meet,” added M. de Vatismenil. “They will absolutely, either by all coming together or by appointing committees to negotiate with their employers. There is no difficulty with this; the misdemeanor, according to the terms of the Code, begins only with an attempt to set up the union or the actual start of its activities, that is to say, when, after having discussed the conditions and in spite of the spirit of conciliation that employers, in their own interest, always bring to this type of affair, the workers tell them, ‘But, after all, since you are not going to give us all we are asking, we are going to withdraw and, through our influence, influence that is well known and that is based on the identity of interest and comradeship, we are going to persuade all the other workers in other work-places to stop work.’” After reading this, I ask myself where the misdemeanor lies, for in this Assembly, I consider that there cannot be what might be called a systematic majority or minority on a question like this. What we all want is to stop misdemeanors. What we are all seeking to achieve is not to introduce into the Penal Code fictitious and imaginary misdemeanors in order to have the pleasure of punishing them. I ask myself where the misdemeanor lies. Does it lie in the union, in the stoppage of work, or in the influence to which allusion is made? It is said that it is the union itself that constitutes the misdemeanor. I admit that I cannot accept this proposition since the word union is synonymous with association. It has the same etymology and the same meaning. When you disregard the aim, it sets itself and the means it employs; union cannot be considered a misdemeanor, and the recorder himself senses this, since when replying to M. Morin, who asked whether workers could discuss wages with employers, the honorable M. de Vatismenil said, “They certainly will be able to; they will be able to present themselves individually or all together and to appoint committees.” Well, to appoint committees they certainly need to agree, to act in concert, and to associate; they have to form a union. Strictly speaking, the misdemeanor therefore does not lie in the very fact of the union. Nevertheless, some people would like to see it that way, then say: “There must be a start of operations.” But can the opening operations of an innocent action make this action guilty? I do not think so. If an action is wrong in itself, it is clear that the law can move against it only if operations have begun. I will even say: “It is the opening of operations that causes the action to exist.” Your language on the other hand amounts to this: “To look is a misdemeanor, but it becomes a misdemeanor only when someone starts to look.” M. de Vatismenil himself acknowledges that we cannot look for the thoughts that inspire guilty actions. Well, when an action is innocent in itself and is manifested only in innocent facts, it is clear that such an action is not incriminating and can never change its nature. Now what is meant by the words, “start of operations”? A union may reveal itself, may start operating in a thousand different ways. No, we are not concerned with these thousand ways; we are concentrating on the stoppage of work. In this case, if it is the stoppage of work that is necessarily the start of the union’s operations, then you have to say that the stoppage of work is of itself a misdemeanor; let us therefore punish the stoppage of work and say that the stoppage of work will be punished. Whoever refuses to work at a rate that does not suit him will be punished. If this is so, then your law will be sincere. But are there any consciences able to accept that the stoppage of work in itself, independently of the means used, is a misdemeanor? Does a man not have the right to refuse to sell his work at a rate that does not suit him? The answer will be given that this is true when it concerns an individual, but not true when it concerns a group of men in association. But, sirs, an action that is innocent in itself does not become criminal because it is multiplied by a certain number of men. When an action is wrong in itself, I can see that, if this action is carried out by a certain number of individuals, it can be said that there has been aggravation; but when it is innocent in itself, it cannot become guilty because it is carried out by a large number of individuals. I cannot therefore see how it can be said that the stoppage of work is a guilty act. If one man has the right to say to another, “I will not work under such and such a condition,” two or three thousand men have the same right; they have the right to withdraw. That is a natural right which ought to be a legal right as well. However, people want to add a veneer of guilt to the stoppage of work, so how are they going to manage it? The following words are slipped into parentheses, “Since you are not giving us what we ask, we are going to withdraw our labor; we are going to act through influences that are well known and that stem from the identity of interests and comradeship. . . .” This then is the crime; it is the influences that are well known, it is violence and intimidation; there lies the crime, and it is there that you should attack. Indeed, it is there that the amendment of the honorable M. Morin attacks. How can you refuse him your votes? But then another chain of reasoning is brought before us, which says the following: “The union includes the two characteristics that enable it to be classified as a crime. Union in itself can be condemned and it then produces disastrous consequences, disastrous for the worker, for the employer, and for society as a whole.” First of all, the fact that the union can be condemned is exactly the point on which we disagree, the point that needs to be proven, quod erat demonstrandum. It can be condemned depending on the aim it sets itself and especially depending on the means it employs. If the union limits itself to the force of inertia or passivity, if the workers act in concert, have reached an agreement, and say, “We do not want to sell our product, which is labor, at such and such a price; we want such and such an amount, and if you refuse we will go home, or seek work elsewhere,” it seems to me that it cannot be said that this is an action that can be condemned. However, you claim that it is disastrous. Here, in spite of all the respect I profess for the talent of the recorder, I believe that he has embarked on an avenue of reasoning that is at least highly confused. He says, “The stoppage of work damages the employer, as it is troublesome for an employer if one or more of his workers withdraw their labor. It damages his business with the result that the worker undermines the freedom of the employer and consequently infringes Article 13 of the Constitution.” In fact, that is a total reversal of ideas. What! I am standing before an employer, we discuss the price, the one he is offering me does not suit me, I commit no act of violence and withdraw, and you tell me that it is I who am undermining the freedom of the employer because I am damaging his business! Take care lest what you are proclaiming is none other than slavery. For what is a slave if not a man obliged by law to work under conditions that he rejects? (On the left: Hear! Hear!) You ask the law to intervene because it is I who am violating the property of the employer. Do you not see that, on the contrary, it is the employer that is violating mine? If he calls upon the law to ensure that his will is imposed on me, where is freedom or equality? (On the left: Hear! Hear!) Do not tell me that I am mutilating your argument, for it is contained in its entirety in the report and in your speech. You then say that when the workers form a union they harm themselves, and you use this basis to say that the law should prevent the stoppage of work. I agree with you that in the majority of cases, the workers do themselves damage. But it is precisely for this reason that I want them to be free, since freedom will teach them that they are damaging themselves, whereas you want to draw the conclusion that the law must intervene and shackle them to the workshop. However, you are setting the law on a road that is very wide and extremely dangerous. Every day, you accuse the socialists of wanting to have the law intervene in all circumstances and wanting to remove personal responsibility. Every day, you complain that, wherever there is misfortune, suffering, or pain, people constantly call upon the law and the state. For my part, I do not want the law to be able to say to a man who stops work and consequently consumes part of his savings, “You must work in this workshop even though you have not been granted the price you are asking for.” I do not accept this theory. Last, you say that he is damaging society in its entirety. There is no doubt that he is damaging society, but the same reasoning applies. A man considers that by ceasing to work he will obtain a better rate of pay in eight or ten days’ time. Doubtless this is a loss of output for society, but what do you want to do? Do you want the law to remedy everything? That is impossible; we would then have to say that a trader who is waiting for a better time to sell his coffee or sugar is damaging society. We would then have to be calling upon the law and the state incessantly! One objection was made to the commission’s draft that I believe was treated very lightly, too lightly for such a serious subject. It was said: “What is this all about? There are employers on the one hand and workers on the other; it is a question of settling wages. Obviously what is desirable is that, since wages are settled by the free play of supply and demand, demand and supply should be as free or, if you wish, as constrained as each other. There are only two ways for this to happen: either we should leave unions perfectly free, or we should abolish them entirely. An objection is made to you, and you agree with it, that it is perfectly impossible for your law to keep an equitable balance, that since the unions of the workers are constantly being formed on a grand scale and in broad daylight, they are easier to detect than the associations of employers. You admit the difficulty, but you also add, “The law does not pay attention to such details.” I reply that it ought to do so. If the law can repress an alleged crime only by carrying out the most flagrant and enormous injustices against an entire class of workers, then it needs to pay attention. There are a thousand similar cases in which the law has indeed paid attention. You yourself admit that, by dint of your legislation, supply and demand are no longer equal players since a union of employers cannot be prosecuted, and it is obvious why: two or three employers have lunch together and form a union, and nobody knows anything about it. A workers’ union will always be detected because it is formed in broad daylight. Since the one escapes your law while the other does not, its inevitable result is that supply is affected where demand is not and, insofar as it acts, it alters the natural level of earnings systematically and continuously. It is this that I cannot approve. I say that since you cannot draft a law that applies equally to all relevant interests, and since you cannot treat them equally, leave them their freedom, which subsumes equality. But while it was not possible to achieve equality in the commission’s draft, is it at least theoretically possible? Yes, and I believe, indeed I am certain, that the commission has made a great effort to achieve at least apparent equality. It has, however, not yet succeeded, and to be convinced of this you need only compare Article 414 with Article 415, the one relating to the employers with the one relating to the workers. The first is excessively simple; no mistake can be made. Both the law when it prosecutes and the delinquent when he defends himself will be perfectly aware of what they are doing. “The following will be punished: 1. Any association between those who give employment to workers that tends to force wages down, if there has been an attempt at such or if such a process has begun.” I draw your attention to the word force, which gives great latitude to employers to defend themselves. They will say: “It is true that two or three of us have had a meeting. We adopted measures to bring about a decrease in earnings, but we have not tried to force this through.” This is a very important word, which is not found in the following article. In fact, the next article is extremely elastic; it does not include just one fact, it includes a huge number of them. “Any union of workers in order to stop work at the same time, to prohibit work in the workshops, to prevent anyone from entering them before or after certain times and in general to suspend, prevent, or make work more expensive (the word force is absent), if there is an attempt at such or if such a process has begun, etc.” And if it were said that I am finding fault with the use of the word force, I would call the commission’s attention to the importance that it itself gave to this word. (Murmurs.) A member on the left:The right is not allowing silence. When correct things are being said, they always interrupt. Tell us a story and you will be listened to. M. Frédéric Bastiat:In its wish to achieve a certain equality, at least theoretically, since it is impossible in fact, the commission had two avenues it might have taken with regard to the expressions unjustly and abusively contained in Article 414. Obviously they had either to delete these words, which open a wide breach for the defense of employers from Article 414, or they had to include them in Article 415 to offer the same opportunity to workers. The commission preferred to delete the words unjustly and abusively. On what did it base this decision? It based its decision precisely on the fact that, immediately after these words came the verb force and this word is underlined five times on just one page of its report, which proves that it attached great importance to it. Indeed it expressed itself very categorically on this, in the following terms: “When a set of measures contrary to the law has been established to force a decrease in earnings, it is impossible to justify it. An event of this nature is of necessity unjust and an abuse, for to force earnings down is to produce a decrease which is not the result of the circumstances of the industry concerned and of free competition, but rather the outcome of a pact as illegal as it is contrary to humanity. It thus follows that the use of the words unjustly and abusively is contrary to common sense.” Thus, how has the deletion of the words unjustly and abusively been justified? By the claim that their use constituted a pleonasm; the word force replaces all of this. However, sirs, in the case of the workers, the word force was not included, so that the workers from now on do not have the same opportunity to defend themselves. All that is now stated is that they may not increase earnings, with nothing now said about unjustly or abusively forcing them up. Here again there is a fault, at least in the drafting, and an inequality that is grafted on to the much more serious inequality of which I spoke just now. Such, sirs, is the commission’s approach, one that in my view is faulty in every respect, faulty in theory and faulty in practice, a system that leaves us in total uncertainty as to what constitutes the offence. Is it the union, is it the stoppage of work, is it the abuse, or is it force? We do not know at all. I challenge anyone, the most logical of minds, to see where impunity begins or ends. You say to me, “The union is criminal. However, you may appoint a committee.” I am not sure, though, that I can appoint a committee and send delegates to it when your report is full of considerations according to which the union is the very essence of the offence. The next thing I want to say is that, in practice, your law is full of inequalities; it does not apply exactly and proportionally to both parties whose antagonism you wish to remove. This is a singular way to remove antagonism between two parties: treating them in an unequal manner! As for M. Morin’s proposal, I will not spend much time on it. It is perfectly clear and perfectly lucid. It is based on an unshakeable principle, one accepted by everyone: freedom of action and repression of abuses. No intelligent mind would fail to support such a principle. Ask the first person you see, whoever you like, whether the law is unjust or partial when it is content to repress intimidation and violence. Everyone will tell you that these are real crimes. Besides, the laws are drafted for the ignorant as well as for scholars. The definition of a misdemeanor must persuade the intelligent, it must satisfy every conscience; when the law is read, people should say: “Yes, that is a crime.” You talk about a respect for the law; this is an integral part of respect for the law. How do you expect a law that is unintelligent and unintelligible to be respected? That is impossible. (Approval from the left.) What is happening here, sirs, appears to draw importance from the perfect analogy between what has happened in another country, England, of which M. de Vatismenil spoke yesterday and which has such great experience of unions, conflict, and difficulties of this nature. I believe that this experience is worth consulting and bringing to the rostrum. Mention has been made of the numerous and formidable unions that have come into being since the abrogation of the law or laws, but you have heard nothing of those that took place before. These unions should have been mentioned as well, since in order to evaluate the two systems the systems have to be compared. Before 1824,2 England was ruined by so many unions, which were so terrible and forceful, that this scourge gave rise to thirty-seven statutes in a country in which, as you know, antiquity is, so to speak, part of the law, and in which even absurd laws are respected solely because they are ancient. The country must have been very worried and tormented by this evil for it to have decided to pass thirty-seven statutes, one after the other, in a very short space of time, each more forceful than the last. Well then! What happened next? They did not manage to contain the evil, which continued to worsen. One fine day, they said: “We have tried very many approaches and thirty-seven statutes have been passed. Let us try to see whether we might succeed through very simple means, justice and freedom.” I would like this reasoning to be applied to a great many questions, and we would find that their solution is not as difficult as we think; but in the end on this occasion, this reasoning was formulated and acted upon in England. Thus, in 1824 a law was effected on the basis of Mr. Hume’s proposals, proposals that resembled closely those advocated by MM Doutre, Greppo, Benoît, and Fond.3 It was for the complete and total abrogation of what had hitherto existed. Justice in England found itself disarmed when faced by unions, even against violence, intimidation, and threats, facts that, however, are aggravating to the union. To such behavior one can apply only laws that relate to threats and the accidental skirmishes that take place in the streets. So one year later, in 1825, the minister of justice requested a special law that would leave unions totally free but increase the penalty incurred for ordinary violence; that in a nutshell is the whole basis of the 1825 law. Article 3 says: “Anyone who, through intimidation, threats, or violence, etc. . . . will be punished by imprisonment and a fine, etc., . . .” The words intimidation, threats, and violence return in each sentence. The word union is not even mentioned. There then follow two other extremely remarkable articles, which would probably not be accepted in France because they are virtually encompassed in this maxim: anything that the law does not forbid is allowed. They say: “Those who organize a meeting, those who form a union and who seek to influence the level of wages, those who enter into verbal or written agreements, etc., . . . will not be subject to this penalty.” In a word, the widest and most complete freedom is expressly granted in it. I say that there is some analogy in the situation, for what the commission is proposing is the former English system, that of the statutes. The proposal by M. Doutre and his colleagues is the one proposed by Mr. Hume, which abolished everything and which allowed no aggravation for concerted violence, although it cannot fail to be known that violence meditated by a certain number of men offers more danger than the individual acts of violence committed in the street. Last, the proposals made by the honorable M. Morin perfectly match the ones that were effected by the definitive law in England in 1825. Now you are being told: “Since 1825, England is not at ease in this system.” She is not at ease! But I, for my part, find that you are giving an opinion on this question without going into it in sufficient detail. I have traveled in England several times and have asked a large number of manufacturers about this question. Well then, I can state that I have never met anyone who did not applaud this development and who was not highly satisfied that England in this respect had dared to look freedom in the face. And perhaps it is because of this that later, with regard to many other questions, she dared again to look freedom in the face. You refer to the union in 1832,4 which in effect was a formidable union, but you have to be careful and not present the facts in isolation. That year, there was a shortage and wheat cost ninety-five shillings a quarter; there was a famine and that famine lasted several years. . . . The recorder, M. de Vatismenil:I referred to the union in 1842. M. Bastiat:There was a famine in 1832 and another, more severe one in 1842. The recorder:I spoke about the union in 1842. M. Bastiat:My argument applies even more strongly to 1842. What happens in years of shortage like these? The income of nearly all the population is used to buy the things necessary for their subsistence. Manufactured products are not bought, the workshops have no work, and a great many workers have to be laid off; there is competition for work and earnings are reduced. Well then, when earnings suffer a significant decrease at the same time that there is a dreadful famine, it is not surprising that in a country with total freedom unions are formed. This is what happened in England. Was the law changed for this reason? Not at all. The causes of the unions were seen, but they were braved out. Threats and violence were punished wherever they occurred, but nothing else was done. You have been presented with a terrible picture of these associations and it has been said that they tend to become political. Sirs, at the time of which I am speaking, a major question was being debated in England, and this question was being inflamed still further by circumstances, the dearth. There was conflict between the industrial population and the landowners, that is to say the aristocracy, who wanted to sell wheat as expensively as possible and, to do this, prohibited foreign wheat. What happened? The unions, which were recently jokingly called trades unions and which enjoyed freedom of union, saw that all the efforts made by their unions had not succeeded in raising the level of wages.5 A voice:Which is a bad thing. M. Bastiat:You say it is a bad thing. On the contrary, I say that it is a very good thing. The workers saw that the level of earnings did not depend on the employers, but on other social laws, and they said to themselves, “Why don’t our wages rise? The reason is simple; it is because we are forbidden to work for foreigners or at least to receive foreign wheat in payment for our work. We are therefore mistaken in blaming our employers; we ought to be blaming the aristocratic classes, who not only own the land but also make the law, and we will have an influence on earnings only when we have reconquered our political rights.” On the left:Hear! Hear! M. Bastiat:Truly, sirs, to find something extraordinary in the conduct—so simple and natural—of the English workers, is almost to bring a protest against universal suffrage in France to this rostrum. (More agreement from the left.) The result of this was that English workers have learned a great lesson through freedom. They have learned that raising or lowering wages does not depend on the employers; and right now England has experienced two or three very difficult years as a result of potato blight, failed harvests, and the railway mania, and also because of the revolutions that have desolated Europe and closed the outlets for her industrial products. Never had she experienced crises like these. However, there has been not one instance of reprehensible union behavior and not a single act of violence. The workers have abandoned all this as a result of their experience, and this is an example to bring before our country and to meditate on. (Approval from the left.) Last, there is one consideration that strikes me and that is more important than any of this. You want the laws to be respected, and you are very right in this, but you should not extinguish in men the sense of justice. Here are two systems before you, the commission’s and M. Morin’s. Imagine that alternatively, by virtue of both one and the other system, workers are prosecuted. So here we have workers prosecuted by virtue of the present law on unions; they do not even know what is being asked of them. They believed they had the right, up to a certain point, to form a union and to act in concert, and you yourselves will acknowledge this to some degree. They say: “We have devoured our pay; we are ruined. It is not our fault but that of society, which is ill-treating us, the employers, who are harassing us, and the law, which is prosecuting us.” They come before the courts in a very irritated mood; they project themselves as victims, and not only do they resist, but those who are not being prosecuted also sympathize with them. Young people, ever ardent, and political writers side with them. Do you think that this is a very flattering or favorable position for justice in our country? On the other hand, prosecute workers on the basis of M. Morin’s proposals. Bring them before the court and let the public prosecutor say: “We are not prosecuting you because you have formed unions, you were perfectly free to do so. You have asked for an increase in wages and we have said nothing. You have acted in concert and we have said nothing. You have wished to stop work and we have said nothing. You have sought to act by persuading your comrades and we have said nothing. However, you have used arms, violence, and threats and so we have brought you before the courts.” The worker whom you prosecute will bow his head because he will realize his wrong and will acknowledge that the justice of his country has been impartial and just. (Hear! Hear!) I will end, sirs, with another consideration, which is this: In my view, there is now a host of heated questions among the working classes on the subject of which, I am deeply and intimately convinced, the workers are making a mistake, and I draw your attention to this point. Whenever a revolution breaks out in a country in which there are a series of classes one above the other and in which the top class has arrogated to itself certain privileges, it is the second in rank that reaches the top; it naturally invokes the feelings of right and justice to gain help from the others. The revolution is carried out, and the class that was second in line reaches the top. Most oft en it does not take long to build up privileges for itself. This happens for the third in line and then the fourth. All this is odious, but it is always possible as long as there is a class below that can bear the costs of the privileges that are being disputed. However, it so happened that in the February revolution it was the entire nation, the entire people, right to the very lowest of its masses, that has been able or that may be able to govern itself, through elections and universal suffrage. And then in a spirit of imitation, which I deplore but which I think is somewhat natural, the people thought that it might cure its grievances by also establishing special privileges for itself—since I consider the right to credit, the right to work, and many other such claims as privileges in the proper sense of the word.6 (Murmuring.) And in fact, sirs, they might be granted if beneath them or within reach of them there were another class even more numerous, three hundred million Chinese, for example, who could bear the cost. (Approving laughter.) But this does not exist. Therefore, every privilege will have to be paid for by the men of the people, without any possible profit to themselves, through a complicated system and, on the contrary, by suffering all the losses caused by the system. So the Legislative Assembly may be called upon to combat these claims to privilege, which should not be treated too lightly since, after all, they are sincere. You will be obliged to struggle. How will you struggle advantageously if you reject the working class when they are asking only for something that is reasonable, when they are purely and simply asking for justice and freedom? I believe that you will gain great strength by proving your impartiality here. People will listen to you more and you will be regarded as the tutors of all the classes, and in particular this class, if you show yourselves to be totally impartial and just toward it. (Lively approval from the left.) To sum up, I reject the commission’s draft because it is just an expedient, and the character of any expedient is weakness and injustice. I support M. Morin’s proposal because it is based on a principle, and only principles have the power to satisfy people’s minds, to win over their hearts, and to unite all serious minds. We have been asked: “Do you wish then to proclaim freedom to satisfy a platonic love of freedom?” For myself, I reply: “Yes. Freedom may cause a few problems for nations but freedom alone will enlighten them, raise them up, and improve their moral life. Without freedom there is only oppression and, mark well, you friends of order, that the time has passed, if ever it existed, when the union of classes, a respect for law, the security of interests, or the tranquillity of peoples could be based on oppression.” 18Reflections on the Amendment of M. Mortimer-Ternaux1[vol. 5, p. 513. “Réflexions sur l’amendement de M. Mortimer-Ternaux.” 1 April 1850. This article was part of the debate in the Legislative Assembly on 1 April 1850. n.p.] To All Democrats No, I am not mistaken; I feel a democratic heart beating within my breast. How is it then that so oft en I find myself in opposition to these men who proclaim themselves to be the sole representatives of democracy? We need, however, to make sure we understand one another. Has this word two opposing meanings? For my part, I consider that there is a link between the aspiration that drives all men toward their physical, intellectual, and moral advancement and the faculties with which they have been endowed to pursue this aspiration. This being so, I would like each man to have responsibility for the free disposition, administration, and control of his own person, his acts, his family, his business dealings, his associations, his intelligence, his faculties, his work, his capital, and his property. This is how freedom and democracy are understood in the United States. Each citizen jealously guards his ability to remain his own master. This is how the poor hope to rise out of poverty and how the rich hope to retain their wealth. And in truth, we see that in a very short space of time this regime has enabled the Americans to achieve a degree of energy, security, wealth, and equality that has no peer in the annals of the human race. However, there as everywhere, there are men who have no scruples in undermining the freedom and property of their fellow citizens for their own advantage. This is why the law intervenes, with the sanction of the common force, to anticipate and repress this dissolute tendency. Each person contributes to maintaining the force in proportion to his wealth. This is not, as has been said, a sacrifice of one part of one’s freedom to preserve the other. On the contrary, it is the simplest, most just, most effective, and most economical way of guaranteeing the freedom of all. And one of the most difficult problems of politics is to remove from those in whom the common force is vested the opportunity to do themselves what they are responsible for preventing. It would appear that French democrats see things in a very different light. Doubtless, like American democrats, they condemn, reject, and stigmatize the plunder that citizens might be tempted to indulge in on their own behalf against one another, such as any attack on property, work, and freedom by one individual to the detriment of another individual. But they consider this plunder, which they reject between individuals, as a means of gaining equality and consequently they entrust it to the law, the common force, which I thought had been instituted to prevent plunder. Thus, while American democrats, having entrusted to the common force the task of punishing individual plunder, are deeply concerned by the fear that this force might itself become a plunderer, in the case of French democrats, making this force an instrument of plunder appears to be the very basis and spirit of the system they advocate. They give these arrangements the grandiose titles of organization, association, fraternity, and solidarity. In doing this, they remove any scruples from the most brutal of appetites. “Peter is poor, Mondor is rich. Are they not brothers? Do they not share solidarity? Should they not be put in association and organized? This being so let them share, and everything will be for the best. It is true that Peter should not take anything from Mondor; that would be iniquitous. But we will pass laws and create forces that will be responsible for the operation. In this way, Mondor’s resistance will become factious and Peter’s conscience will remain clear.” In the course of this legislature, there have been occasions on which plunder has been presented in a particularly hideous light. Those occasions are when the law has operated for the benefit of the rich to the detriment of the poor. Well then! Even in these cases we have seen the Montagne applaud. Might this not be because what they want above all is to ensure this principle for themselves? Once legal plunder of the poor for the benefit of the rich has become part of the system, with the support of the majority, how will we be able to reject legal plunder of the rich for the benefit of the poor? Oh unfortunate country, in which the sacred forces, which ought to have been instituted to ensure the rights of each person, are perverted so that they themselves violate these rights! Yesterday, we witnessed a scene in the abominable and disastrous comedy in the Legislative Assembly that might well be titled The Comedy of Fools. This is what happened: Every year, three hundred thousand children reach the age of twelve. Out of these three hundred thousand children, perhaps ten thousand enter state secondary schools and lycées. Are their parents all rich? I do not know. But what can be stated categorically is that they are the richest in the nation. Naturally, they have to pay the costs of board, education, and care for their children. However, they find this very expensive. Consequently, they have requested—and it has been granted to them—that the law, through the taxes on wines and spirits and salt, should take money from the millions of poor parents in order for the said money to be distributed to them, the rich parents, as grants, bonuses, indemnities, subsidies, etc. M. Mortimer-Ternaux has asked for a monstrosity like this to cease, but his efforts have failed. The extreme right finds it very pleasant to have the poor pay for the education of the rich, and the extreme left finds it very politically astute to seize an opportunity like this to have the system of legal plunder passed and approved. This makes me ask myself, “Where are we going? The Assembly must be governed by a few principles; it must either be wedded to justice everywhere and for all, or else it will be thrown into the system of legal and mutual plunder to the point where all the conditions of life are totally equal, that is to say, communism.” Yesterday, it declared that the poor would pay taxes to relieve the rich. With what impudence will it reject the taxes that will shortly be put forward to assail the rich to relieve the poor? For my part, I cannot forget that, when I presented myself to the electors, I said to them: “Would you approve a system of government which consisted in this: You will have the responsibility for your own lives. You will expect from your work, efforts, and energy the means to feed and clothe yourself, house yourself, get lighting, and achieve prosperity, well-being, and perhaps wealth. The government will have dealings with you only to guarantee you protection against any disorder or unjust aggression. On the other hand, it will ask from you only the minimal taxes essential for accomplishing this task.” And everyone cried out, “We do not ask for anything else from it.” Now, what would my position be if I had to present myself once more to these poor laborers, honest artisans, and courageous workers and say to them: “You pay more taxes than you expected. You have less freedom than you hoped for. This is partly my fault since I strayed from the philosophy of government for which you elected me and on 1 April I voted for an increase in the tax on salt and wines and spirits in order to come to the aid of a small number of our fellow countrymen who send their children to state secondary schools.” Whatever happens, I hope never to put myself in the sad and ridiculous position of having to say things like this to the men who gave me their trust. 19Parliamentary Conflicts of Interest1 ,2[vol. 5, p. 518. “Incompatibilités parlementaires.” March 1850. n.p.] We have translated the title of this pamphlet as “Parliamentary Conflicts of Interest” (and related occurrences of the word incompatibilités as “conflicts of interest”) instead of retaining the literal English translation, which presents some awkwardness. In the context of this pamphlet, Bastiat is referring to the matter of civil servants who have been elected to the Chamber of Deputies and whether or not they should continue to fulfill their work commitments to the state while they serve in the Chamber. Bastiat argued that it was “incompatible” for them to do both.] Citizen Representatives, I urge you to give some attention to this article. “Is it a good thing to exclude certain categories of citizen from the National Assembly?” “Is it a good thing to make high political office seem dazzling in the eyes of deputies?” These are the two questions that I will deal with now. The constitution itself has not raised more important ones. However, a very strange thing has happened: one of these questions, the second one, was decided without discussion. Should the government recruit in the Chamber? England says yes and is in trouble because of this. America says no and is thereby doing well. In’89 we adopted the American way of thinking; in 1814 we preferred the English way. Between authorities of this stature, there is, it would appear, good reason for caution. However, the National Assembly has plumped for the system of the restoration imported from England and has done this without discussion. The author of this article had put forward an amendment. In the time he took to mount the steps of the rostrum, the question was decided. “I propose,” he said. “The Chamber has voted,” shouted the president. “What! Without allowing me to . . .” “The Chamber has voted.” “But nobody was aware of this!” “Consult the office; the Chamber has voted.” Certainly on this occasion, the Assembly will not be reproached for being systematically dilatory! What should we do? Grab the attention of the Assembly before the final vote. I am doing this in writing in the hope that a more-experienced voice will come to my assistance. Besides, for the ordeal of a verbal discussion, the lungs of a stentor would be needed to address attentive hearers. Decidedly, the safest thing is to put it in writing. Citizen deputies, from the depths of my soul and conscience, I believe that section 4 of the electoral law must be redrafted. As it is, it will lead to anarchy. There is still time, let us not bequeath this scourge to the country. The issue of conflicts of interest raises two profoundly separate questions that have nevertheless oft en been confused. Will the position of deputy in the National Assembly be open or closed to those whose careers are in the civil service? Will a civil service career be open or closed to deputies of the people? These are certainly two separate questions that have no connection with one another, so much so that solving one does not prejudice in any way the solution of the other. The position of deputy may be open to civil servants without the civil service being open to deputies and vice versa. The law that we are discussing is very severe with regard to the admission of civil servants to the Chamber and very tolerant with regard to the admission of deputies of the people to high political office. In the first case, I consider that it has let itself be drawn into base radicalism. On the other hand, in the second, it is not even prudent. I will not hide the fact that, in this article, I have reached quite different conclusions. To move from public office to the Chamber there should be no exclusion, but adequate precautions should be taken. To move from the Chamber to public office there should be total exclusion. Respect for universal suffrage! Those it elects people’s deputies should be representatives and remain such. No exclusion to entry but total exclusion to exit. That is the principle. We will see that this is in line with the public good. §1.May electors have themselves represented by civil servants?My reply is yes, except that it is up to society to take adequate precautions. I encounter an initial difficulty here, one that appears to place an insurmountable rejection in advance in the path of anything I might say. The constitution itself proclaims the principle of the conflict of interest between any paid civil service job and a mandate to represent the people. However, as the report says, it is not a question of eluding this principle but of applying it, since henceforth it will be fundamental. I ask whether it is not being too subtle to get round the word service as used in the Constitution and say: “What it intends to exclude is not the person nor even the civil servant but the service and the danger that it might bring into the Legislative Assembly. Provided, therefore, that the service does not enter and remains outside, even if it is resumed at the end of the legislative term by the person appointed to it, the intention of the Constitution is upheld.” The National Assembly has thus interpreted Article 283 of the Constitution with regard to the army, and since I must necessarily extend this interpretation to all civil servants, I have reason to believe that I will be allowed not to be diverted by the rejection that the report is placing in my path. What I am asking, in effect, is this: That any elector should be eligible. That electoral colleges may have themselves represented by anyone who has deserved their confidence. But if the choice of the electors falls upon a civil servant, it is the man and not the job that enters the Chamber. The civil servant will not, for all that, lose his previous rights and job titles. He will not be expected to make the sacrifice of a genuine property acquired through long and useful work. Society has only to make a few trivial demands and should be content with adequate safeguards. In this way, the civil servant will be removed from the influence of executive power; he will not be allowed promotion or dismissed from office. He will be made safe from the pushing and pulling between hope and fear. He will not be able to exercise his erstwhile functions or collect his payments for them. In a word, he will be a representative, and only a representative, throughout the duration of his mandate. His life in public service will, so to speak, be suspended and as though absorbed by his life in parliament. This is what was done for the military, through the distinction made between rank and actual function. Why should this not also be done for magistrates? Let us note this clearly: conflict of interest, taken in the meaning of exclusion, is an idea that in the nature of things had to be put forward and popularized under the former regime. At that time, no indemnity was given to deputies who were not civil servants, but they could use the job of deputy as a stepping-stone to lucrative office. On the other hand, civil servants elected as deputies continued to receive their salaries. To tell the truth, they were paid not as civil servants but as deputies, since they no longer fulfilled their duties, and if the minister was displeased with the way they voted, he could, by removing them from their position as deputies, deprive them of all their salary. The results of a combination like this had to be and, indeed, were deplorable. On the one hand, candidates who were not civil servants were very rare in the majority of districts. The electors were free to choose, yes, but the extent of their choice did not exceed five or six people. The first condition of eligibility was considerable wealth.4 If a man who was merely prosperous stood for election, he was rejected with some reason, since he was suspected of having ulterior motives, which were not forbidden by the charter. On the other hand, civil service candidates came in droves. It was very simple. First, they were granted an indemnity. Second, the job of deputy was for them an assured means of rapid advancement. When you think that the battle for portfolios, the inevitable consequence of the ease of access to ministries for deputies (a huge subject that I will deal with in the following paragraph), as I say, when you think that the battle for portfolios generated coalitions within parliament that were systematically organized to overthrow the cabinet, that the cabinet could resist only with the help of a majority that was equally systematic, compact, and devoted, it is easy to understand what this double facility given to men of position to become deputies, and for deputies to become men of position, would lead to. The result had to be and was that the civil service departments were converted into a form of exploitation, the government absorbed the domain of private activity, our freedoms were lost, our finances were ruined, and corruption descended increasingly from high parliamentary levels to the lowest levels of the electorate.5 In circumstances like these, we should not be surprised that the nation becomes attached to the principle of conflict of interest as though it were a lifeline. Everyone remembers that the rallying cry of honest electors was, “No more civil servants in the Chamber!” And the manifesto of the candidates carried the words, “I promise not to accept either office or favors.” However, has the February revolution changed nothing in this state of affairs, one that both explained and justified the current of public opinion? First, we have universal suffrage, and obviously the influence of the government on the elections is going to be much weakened, if indeed it retains any at all. Second, no government purpose will be served by its securing the election by preference of civil servants who are totally removed from its influence. What is more, we have an equal salary paid to all the deputies, a circumstance which, just on its own, changes the situation completely. In fact, we do not need to fear, as in the past, that there will be a lack of candidates for election. We have more to fear from difficulties arising from having far too many to choose from. It will therefore be impossible for civil servants to overrun the Chamber. I add that they will have no incentive to do so, since the job of deputy will no longer be for them a means of achieving success. In former times, civil servants welcomed candidacy as a piece of luck. Today they can accept it only as a genuine sacrifice, at least from the point of view of their career. Changes so profound in the respective situations of the two sets of people are also likely, I think, to change the view we had formed of conflict of interest, under the influence of quite different circumstances. I believe that we should envisage the real principle and common good, not in the light of the ancient charter but in that of the new constitution. Conflict of interest as a synonym for exclusion has three major disadvantages: 1. First, it is a huge disadvantage to restrict the choices open to universal suffrage. Universal suffrage is a principle that is as jealous as it is absolute. When an entire population has enveloped a councillor of the Court of Appeal, for example, with esteem, respect, confidence, and admiration, when its members have faith in his enlightenment and virtues, do you think it will be easy to make them understand that they have the option to entrust to anyone they like other than this worthy magistrate the task of correcting their legislation? 2. It is no less exorbitant to attempt to deprive a complete class of citizens of their finest political right and the noblest reward of lengthy and loyal service, a reward given by electors exercising free choice. The question might almost be raised as to what extent the National Assembly has this right. 3. From the point of view of practical usefulness, it is blindingly obvious that the level of experience and enlightenment has to be very low in a chamber that is renewed every three years and from which all men who are highly experienced in public affairs are excluded. What! Here we have an assembly that has to deal with the navy and the army too, in which there is not a single naval or army officer! We have to deal too with civil and criminal legislation and in the Assembly there will not be a single magistrate! It is true that army and naval officers are admitted, through a law that has nothing to do with the matter and for reasons that do not relate to the fundamentals of this question. But this itself is a fourth and serious disadvantage to be added to the other three. The people will not understand that in a chamber in which laws are passed, the military is present and lawyers are absent just because in 1832 or 1834 a particular set of arrangements was introduced in the army. It will be said that such a shocking inequality should not be the result of an old and entirely contingent law. You were made responsible for drafting a comprehensive electoral law; this was worth doing and you ought not to bring a monstrous inconsistency into it under the cloak of an obscure article in the Military Code. Absolute incompatibility would have been better. It would at least have had the prestige of a principle. A few words now on the precautions that I think society has the right to take with regard to civil servants who are elected as deputies. People may try to get me to be inconsistent by saying: “Since you do not accept any limits to the choices open to universal suffrage, since you do not believe that a category of citizens can be deprived of their political rights, how can you accede to the idea that more-or less-restrictive precautions can be placed on some people while others are not subjected to them?” These restrictions, it should be clearly noted, are limited to one thing: ensuring the independence and impartiality of the representative in the public interest and placing deputies who are civil servants on a totally equal footing with those who are not. When a magistrate accepts a legislative mandate, the law of the country should say to him, “Your parliamentary life is just beginning and, as long as it lasts, your judiciary life will be suspended.” What in this is excessive or contrary to right principle? When the function is interrupted de facto, why should it not also be by law, since this has the additional advantage that it protects the civil servant from all pernicious influences? I do not want him subject to promotion or dismissal by the executive power, since, if he were to be, this would not be for actions relating to the service that he is no longer engaged in but as a result of the way he votes. Now who could accede to the executive power’s rewarding or punishing votes? These safeguards are not arbitrary. Their aim is not to restrict the choices which go with universal suffrage or the political rights of one class of citizens, but on the contrary to make them universal, since without them we would necessarily face absolute conflict of interest. A man who, in whatever degree, is part of the government hierarchy should straightforwardly accept that he is in a very different position from that of other citizens with regard to society, and notably so with respect to the subject before us. The activities of the civil service and private industry have something in common and something that differentiates them. What they have in common is that both satisfy social needs. The latter protects us from hunger, cold, illness, and ignorance, the former from war, unrest, injustice, and violence. These are all services rendered for payment. This, however, is what is different. Each person is free to accept or refuse private services or to receive them to the extent that suits him and to think about how much they cost. I cannot force anyone to buy my pamphlets, read them, or pay the price for them that the publisher would charge if he had the power to do so. But everything that concerns the departments of the civil service is regulated in advance by law. It is not I who judge how much security I will buy and how much I will pay for it. Civil servants give me as much as the law prescribes that they should and I pay for it as much as the law ordains that I should. My free will counts for nothing. It is therefore essential to know who will be drafting this bill. Since it is in the nature of man to sell for as high a price as possible as many goods as possible, and those of the poorest-possible quality, it might be thought that we would be governed horribly and expensively if those who had the privilege of selling government products also had the privilege of determining their quantity, quality, and price.6 For this reason, faced with that vast organization that we call the government and that, like all organized bodies, is constantly seeking to grow, the nation, as represented by its deputies, decides for itself on which matters, to what extent, and at what price it wants to be governed and administered. If, to settle these things, the nation chooses individually those who govern, it is greatly to be feared that it will, within a short time, be administered to within an inch of its life until its funds run out. So I understand why men driven to extremes have thought of saying to the nation, “I forbid you to have yourselves represented by civil servants.” This is absolute conflict of interest. For my part, I am much inclined to say the same thing to the nation, but only as a piece of advice. I am not very certain of having the right to convert this advice into prohibition. Certainly, if universal suffrage is left free, this means that it can make mistakes. Does it therefore follow that to anticipate its errors, we ought to deprive universal suffrage of its freedom? However, what we do have the right to do, as those responsible for drafting an electoral law, is to ensure the independence of the civil servants that are elected as deputies and to put them on an equal footing with their colleagues, to protect them from the capriciousness of their superiors, and to regulate their position during their mandate insofar as this may be contrary to the public good. This is the aim of the first part of my amendment.7 I think it reconciles everything. It respects the rights of electors. It respects the citizens’ rights of civil servants. It eliminates the special interest that in former times incited civil servants to become deputies. It restricts the number of those who will seek to be elected as deputies. It ensures the independence of those elected. It leaves rights intact while abolishing abuses. It raises the level of experience and education in the Chamber. In a word, it reconciles principles with usefulness. However, if the rule of conflict of interest is not in force before the election, it certainly must be afterward. The two parts of my amendment stand together, and I would prefer a hundred times to see it rejected as a whole than to have half of it accepted. §2.Can deputies become civil servants?At every period, when a question of parliamentary reform has arisen, people have felt the need to bar careers in the civil service to deputies. This was based on the following reasoning, which is in fact highly conclusive: The people who are governed elect representatives to supervise, control, limit, and, if necessary, prosecute those who govern. In order to carry out this mission, they have to retain their full independence with regard to the executive. If the executive were to enroll deputies in its ranks, the aim of the institution would miscarry. Such is the constitutional objection. The moral objection is no less strong. What could be sadder than to see the deputies of the people betraying the confidence invested in them, one after the other, selling for their advancement both their votes and the interests of their constituents? At first people hoped to reconcile everything through reelection.8 Experience has shown the ineffectiveness of this palliative measure. Public opinion therefore became strongly attached to this second aspect of conflict of interest, and Article 28 of the constitution is nothing other than the manifestation of its triumph. However, public opinion has also always considered that there should be one exception to conflict of interest, and that, while it is wise to forbid lesser jobs to deputies, this should not be so for ministries, embassies, and what is known as high political office. Thus, in all the plans for parliamentary reform that were produced before February, in that of M. Gauguier as in that of M. de Rumilly and that of M. Thiers, while Article 1 always set out the principle boldly, Article 2 invariably produced the exception. To tell the truth, I think that nobody has entertained the thought that it could possibly be otherwise. And, since public opinion, right or wrong, always ends up carrying the day, Article 79 of the draft electoral law is nothing more than a second manifestation of its triumph. This article states: “Article 79. The salaried public offices to which, as exceptions to Article 28 of the Constitution, the members of the National Assembly may be called for as long as the law is in effect, following selection by the executive power, are those of:
Public opinion does not change overnight. It is therefore with no hope of present success that I am addressing the National Assembly. It will not delete this article of the law. However, I am carrying out a duty, since I can see (and I only hope I am wrong!) that this article will cover our unfortunate country in ruins and debris. I certainly do not have such faith in my own infallibility that I would trust my views when they are in opposition to those of the general public. May I therefore be allowed to shelter behind authorities who are not to be despised. Ministers who are deputies! This is a very English import. It is from England, the cradle of representative government, that this irrational and monstrous combination has come. However, it should be noted that in England the entire representative regime is just an ingenious method of putting and retaining power in the hands of a few parliamentary families. In the spirit of the British constitution, it would have been absurd to shut off access to power to members of Parliament, since this constitution has the precise objective of delivering this to them. And we will soon see, however, what hideous and terrible consequences this departure from the simplest indications of common sense has had. But on the other hand, the founders of the American republic wisely rejected this source of trouble and political upheaval. Our fathers did the same in 1789. I am not therefore in the process of supporting a purely personal view or an innovation with neither precedent nor authority. Like Washington, Franklin, and the authors of the’91 constitution,9 I cannot stop myself from seeing in the eligibility of deputies for ministerial posts a constant cause of unrest and instability. I do not think that it is possible to imagine an alliance that is more destructive of any effectiveness and any continuity in the action of the government, or a harder pillow for the heads of kings or presidents of republics. Nothing on earth seems to me to be more likely to arouse a partisan spirit, ferment factional conflict, corrupt all the sources of information and publicity, distort the action of the rostrum and the press, mislead public opinion after having whipped it up, make true facts unpopular in order to make falsehood popular, hinder administrative processes, stir up national hatred, provoke foreign wars, ruin public finances, wear down and discredit governments, discourage and corrupt those being governed, and, in a word, falsify all the stimuli of a representative regime. I know of no social scourge that can be compared to that, and I believe that if God Himself sent us a constitution by one of His angels, all it would need is for the National Assembly to insert Article 79 for this divine work to become the scourge of our country. This is what I propose to demonstrate. I warn you that my line of argument is a long syllogism based on this premise, taken as read: “Men love power. They adore it with such fervor that to conquer or retain it, there is nothing they would not sacrifice, even the tranquillity and happiness of their country.” This universally observed truth will not be contested in advance. But when, from consequence to consequence, I have led the reader to my conclusion—that access to government must be closed to deputies—it may be that the reader will return to my starting point, not having found any broken link in my chain of reasoning, and say to me, “Nego majorem,10 you have not proved the attraction of power.” In this case I will stubbornly stand by my unproven thesis. Proof! Just open the annals of the human race at random! Consult ancient or modern history, whether sacred or profane, and ask yourself where all these wars of race, class, nations, or families came from! You will always receive the invariable answer: the thirst for power. This having been said, does the law not act blindly and rashly in the extreme when it offers candidacy for a position of power to the very men it makes responsible for checking, criticizing, accusing, and judging those who hold it? I am no more suspicious than the next man of the sentiment of this or that person, but I distrust the human heart when it is placed by a reckless law between duty and self-interest. In spite of the most eloquent speeches in the world on the purity and disinterestedness of the magistrates, I would not like to have my small savings in a country in which a judge is able to decree its confiscation in his own favor. In the same way, I pity the minister who has to say to himself: “The nation forces me to report to men who really want to replace me and who can do so provided they can find fault with me.” Just go and prove your innocence to judges like these! But it is not just the minister who is to be pitied; it is above all the nation. A terrible conflict is about to break out and this will provide the challenge. What is at stake is its tranquillity, its well-being, its moral code, and even the true standing of its ideas. The salaried high offices to which, as exceptions to Article 28 of the Constitution, the members of the National Assembly may be called during the life of this legislature, following selection by the executive power, are those of ministers. Oh, this is a peril so great and palpable that, if we did not have experience in this respect, if we were reduced to a priori judgment, or simple common sense, we would not hesitate for a minute. Allow me to imagine that you have no concept of a representative regime. You, a new Astolphus,11 are being transported to the moon and you are told: “Out of all the nations that people this world, here is one that does not know what tranquillity, calm, security, peace, and stability are.” “Does it not have a government?” you ask. “Oh, there is none more governed in the universe,” comes the reply, and to find one that is governed as much, you would have to travel around all the planets to no avail, except perhaps the earth. The government there is immense, dreadfully overbearing, and spendthrift. Five out of six of the people with some sort of education work for the state there. But at last those being governed there have won a precious right. They periodically elect deputies who draft all the laws, hold the purse strings, and oblige the government to obey their decisions, either in its actions or in its expenditures. “Oh! What splendid order, what a wise economy ought to result from this simple mechanism!” you cry. “Certainly this people has to have found, or will find, by trial and error, the exact point at which the government will achieve the greatest benefits at least cost. Why then are you telling me that everything is in trouble and confusion under such a marvelous regime?” “You ought to know,” replies your guide, “that if the inhabitants of the moon, or the lunatics, have a prodigious love of being governed, there is one thing that they love even more prodigiously and that is to govern. So, they have introduced into their wonderful constitution a tiny article, lost in the midst of all the others, that says: “The representatives combine the faculty of overthrowing ministers with that of replacing them. Consequently, if parties, systematic opposition groups, or coalitions are formed in parliament, which by dint of noise and clamor and exaggerating and distorting all the questions manage to make the government unpopular and overthrow it through the blows delivered by a majority that has been suitably prepared to do this, the leaders of these parties, opposition groups, and unions, will ipso facto be ministers, and, while these heterogeneous elements are quarreling among themselves for power, the overthrown ministers, who have become simple representatives once again, will proceed to foment intrigues, alliances, and new opposition groups and unions.” “Good heavens!” you cry; “since this is so, I am not surprised that the history of this people is just the history of a frightful and constant upheaval!” But let us return to the moon, fortunate if, like Astolphus, we can take back to it a small vial of common sense. We will pay homage to anyone involved during the third reading12 of our electoral law. I request leave to stress once again my a priori argument. Only this time we will apply it to existing situations, which are occurring as we watch. There are in France some eighty parliaments on a small scale. They are known as General Councils. The reports sent by prefects to General Councils are similar in many respects to those sent by ministers to the National Assembly. On the one hand there are agents mandated by the public, who decide in its name to what extent and at what cost they intend to be governed. On the other, an agent of the executive power studies the measures to be taken, has them accepted if he can, and once they are, sees that they are carried out. This is a procedure that is carried out repeatedly nearly a hundred times a year under our eyes, and what does it teach us? Certainly the hearts of general councillors are formed from the same clay as those of the representatives of the people. There are few of them who do not want to become prefects as much as deputies want to become ministers. However, the idea does not even cross their minds, and the reason for this is simple: the law has not made the post of councillor a stepping-stone to the prefecture. However ambitious men are (and nearly all of them are), they pursue, per fas et nefas,13 only what it is possible to attain. Faced with total impossibility, desire fades away for lack of sustenance. We see children crying for the moon, but when reason takes over, they no longer think about it. This is directed at those who tell me, “Do you then believe that you can root out ambition from men’s hearts?” Certainly not, and I do not even want to. However, what is very possible is to divert ambition from a given path by abolishing the bait that had rashly been placed there. You can erect greasy poles as much as you like; no one will climb them if there is no prize at the top. It is clear that if a systematic opposition group or an equal coalition of the red and white were to form in General Councils, it might well overthrow the prefect, but it would not install the leaders in his place. What is also certain, and experience has borne this out, is that as a result of this impossibility, coalitions like this do not form in them. The prefect puts forward his plans; the Council discusses them, assesses them among its membership, and estimates their intrinsic value from the point of view of the general good. I am ready to accept that one person may let himself be influenced by local considerations and another by his own personal interest. The law cannot reform the human heart; it is up to the electors to allow for this. But it is very true that nobody systematically rejects the proposals of a prefect solely to check him, to thwart him, or to overthrow him and take his place. This senseless conflict, for which the country pays the cost in the end, this conflict that is so frequent in our legislative assemblies that it is their very history and life, is never witnessed in the assemblies of the départements; do you want to see it occur there? There is a simple way of doing this. Constitute these tiny parliaments along the lines of the big one; introduce into the law that organizes the General Councils a little article drafted thus: “If a measure, whether good or bad, put forward by the prefect is rejected, he will be removed from office. The member of the Council who has led the opposition will be nominated in his place and will distribute to his companions of fortune all the major activities of the département: general tax collection, the management of direct and indirect contributions, etc.” I ask the question: out of my nine hundred colleagues, is there a single one who would dare to vote for a dispensation like this? Would he not think he was making the country a most disastrous gift? Could one choose anything better if one had decided to watch it die under the grip of factions? Is it not certain that this article alone would totally throw the spirit of General Councils into confusion? Is it not certain that these hundred enclaves in which calm, independence, and impartiality reign would be converted into so many arenas of conflict and intrigue? Is it not clear that each proposal put forward by the prefect would become a battlefield of personal conflict instead of being studied for its own sake and for its effect on the public good? Would each person not seek only opportunities for his own advantage? Now, let us assume that there are journals in the département; would the warring parties not devote every effort to win them over to their side? Would not the controversy between these journals be tinged with the passions that agitate the council? Would all the questions not be brought before the public changed and distorted? When there are elections, how can a public that has been misled or circumvented judge matters correctly? Do you not see, moreover, that corruption and intrigue, whipped up by the heat of the conflict, will know no bounds? These dangers strike and terrify you. Representatives of the people, you would let your right hand burn sooner than vote in an organization for the General Councils that was as absurd and anarchical as this. And yet, what are you going to do? You are going to deposit this destructive scourge, this dreadful solvent, in the constitution of the National Assembly when you reject it with horror in assemblies of the département. In Article 79 you are going to proclaim out loud that you will be saturating the heart of the social body with this poison, from which you are protecting its veins. You say: “That is very different. The attributions of General Councils are very limited. Their discussions have no great importance; politics are banished; they do not give laws to the country; and, after all, the position of prefect is not a very attractive object of greed. Do you not understand that each of your alleged objections places as many more conclusive reasons that are just as clear as day within my reach? What! Will the struggle be less bitter, will it inflict less harm on the country because the arena is larger, the theater more elevated, the battlefield more extensive, the whipping up of passions more lively, the prize for the combat more desired, the questions that serve the war machine more burning, more difficult, and hence more likely to mislead the feelings and judgment of the multitude? While it is distressing when public opinion makes a mistake with regard to a neighborhood path, is it not a thousand times worse when it makes a mistake with regard to questions of peace or war, financial order or bankruptcy, public order or anarchy? I say that Article 79, whether applied to General Councils or National Assemblies, amounts to disorder that has intentionally been organized according to the same design, in the first case on a small scale and in the second case on an immense one. But let us cut short the monotonous enumeration of reasons by a call on experience. In England, it is from members of Parliament that the king always chooses his ministers. I do not know whether the principle of the separation of functions is stipulated, at least on paper, in that country. What is certain is that not even a shadow of this principle is revealed by the facts. All of the executive, legislative, legal, and spiritual powers are lodged in one class to its own advantage, and that is the oligarchic class. If it encounters a limitation, this is due to public opinion, and the limitation is very recent. For this reason, the English people have up to now not so much been governed as exploited, as is shown by taxes of two billion and debts of twenty-two billion. If its finances have been better managed in the recent past, England has not the combination of powers to thank for this but public opinion, which, even though deprived of constitutional means, exercises great influence, and also the common prudence of those who carry out this exploitation and who decided to stop just when they were about to become engulfed, along with the entire nation, in the abyss opened up by their rapacity. In a country in which all the branches of government are just parts of a single exploitative system that benefits the parliamentary families, it is not surprising that ministries are open to members of Parliament. It would be surprising if this were not the case, and it would be even more surprising if this curious organization were imitated by a people that claims to govern itself, and what is more, govern itself well. Be that as it may, what result has it produced in England itself? No doubt people are expecting me to give the history of the coalitions that have caused disruption in England. This would amount to an account of its entire constitutional history. However, I cannot refrain from recalling a few of its details. When Walpole was prime minister, a coalition was formed. It was led by Pulteney and Carteret for the dissident Whigs (those for whom Walpole had not succeeded in finding positions) and by Windham for the Tories who, suspected of Jacobite sympathies, were condemned to the sterile honor of acting as auxiliaries to all forms of opposition.14 It was in this coalition that Pitt the Elder (subsequently Lord Chatham) began his brilliant career. Since the Jacobite spirit, which was still deep rooted, was capable of giving France an opportunity to cause a powerful diversion in case of hostilities, Walpole’s policy favored peace. The coalition, therefore, was for war. “To put an end to a system of corruption that subjected Parliament to the desires of the government and to replace Walpole’s timid and exclusively peace-loving policy in foreign relations with one that has greater pride and more dignity”: this was the twin aim that the coalition set for itself. I leave you to imagine what it said about France. You cannot play with impunity with the patriotic sentiments of a people who sense their strength. The coalition spoke so freely and so loudly to the English of their humiliation that they ended up believing it. They called raucously for war. This broke out on the occasion of a right of inspection.15 Walpole loved power just as much as his adversaries did. Rather than lose it, he claimed to lead the operations. He put forward a subsidies bill and the coalition rejected it. The coalition wanted war but refused the means of waging it. This was how it saw the matter: a war fought without adequate resources would be a disaster; we would then be able to say: “It is the fault of the minister who has waged it half-heartedly.” When a coalition places a country’s honor on one side of the scales and its own success on the other, it is not the country’s honor that wins the day. This conspiracy succeeded. The war was unsuccessful, and Walpole fell from power. The opposition, minus Pitt, came into power; but, made up of heterogeneous elements, it could not agree. During this internal struggle, England was always beaten. A new coalition formed. Pitt was its driving force. He turned against Carteret. With him, he favored war; against him he wanted peace. He called him an appalling minister and a traitor and reproached him for subsidizing Hanoverian16 troops. A few years later, we find these two men, now firm friends, sitting side by side in the same council. Pitt said of Carteret, “I am proud to say that I owe what I am to his patronage, friendship, and what he taught me.” In the meantime, the new coalition brought on a ministerial crisis. The Pelham brothers17 were ministers. A fourth coalition was formed by Pulteney and Carteret. They overthrew the Pelhams. However, they themselves were overthrown three days later. While Parliament was in the throes of these intrigues the war continued, and the Pretender,18 who took advantage of the situation, made advances in Scotland. But this consideration did not rein in personal ambition. Pitt finally regained a somewhat modest official position. He was of the governing party for a few days. He approved everything he had criticized, including the subsidy to the Hanoverians. He criticized everything he had approved, including resistance to the right of inspection invoked by the Spanish, which he had used as a pretext to foment the war, a war that itself had just been a pretext for overthrowing Walpole. “Experience has matured me,” he said; “I have now gained the conviction that Spain is within its rights.” At last peace was concluded with the Treaty of Aixla-Chapelle, which restored things to the state they were in before and did not even mention the right of inspection that had inflamed Europe. Then came a fifth coalition against Pitt. This was unsuccessful. Then a sixth that had one particular characteristic: it was directed by one-half of the cabinet against the other half. Pitt and Fox19 were indeed ministers, but both wanted to be prime minister. They joined forces but were soon to oppose one another. In fact, Fox rose and Pitt fell, and Pitt lost no time in fomenting a seventh coalition. Finally with the help of circumstances (these circumstances were the ruin and humbling of England), Pitt succeeded in his efforts. He was to all intents and purposes prime minister. He was to have four years before him to make himself immortal, since John Bull began to be disgusted with all these conflicts. At the end of four years, Pitt fell victim to parliamentary intrigue. His adversaries got the better of him all the more easily by constantly throwing his old speeches in his face. An interminable series of ministerial crises followed. It reached the point where Pitt, who had regained power in the midst of these vicissitudes and thought he was doing Frederick the Great much honor by offering him an alliance, received this crushing reply from him: “It is very difficult to enter into an agreement of any stature with a country that, as a result of continual changes in its government, offers no guarantee of continuity and stability.” But let us leave the venerable Chatham to wear out his final days in these sorry conflicts. Here comes a new generation, other men with the same names, another Pitt,20 another Fox,21 who, in matters of eloquence and genius, were no less worthy than their predecessors. However, the law remained the same. Members of Parliament could become ministers. For this reason we are going to find the same coalitions, the same disasters, and the same immorality. Lord North22 was the head of the cabinet. The opposition boasted a host of illustrious names: Burke, Fox,23 Pitt,24 Sheridan, Erskine, etc. Early in his career, Chatham had encountered a peace-loving government and had naturally clamored for war. The second Pitt entered Parliament during the war; his role was to clamor for peace. North resisted the son just as Walpole had resisted the father. The opposition achieved a peak of violence. Fox went so far as to demand North’s head. North fell and a new government was formed. Burke, Fox, and Sheridan were included in it, but Pitt was not. Four months later there was a fresh shuffle, which brought Pitt into the government and removed Sheridan, Fox, and Burke. With whom do you think Fox was to form an alliance? With North himself! What a strange sight! Fox first of all wanted peace because the government was warlike. Now he wanted war because the government was peace loving. It is easy to see that war and peace were purely parliamentary strategies. As absurd and odious as this coalition was, it succeeded. Pitt fell and North was summoned to the palace. However, individual ambition had reached such a point that it was impossible to put an end to the governmental crisis. It lasted two months. Messages from the two Houses, petitions by the citizens, and the embarrassment of the king had no effect. The members of Parliament who were candidates for ministerial office did not back down from their demands. George III thought of throwing such a heavy crown to the winds, and I believe that this period was the origin of the dreadful illness that afflicted him later on. In truth this was enough to make him lose his head.25 At last agreement was reached. Fox became minister, leaving North and Pitt in opposition. A new crisis, new difficulties. Pitt triumphed and, in spite of the fury of Fox, who had become the head of another coalition, managed to maintain his position. Fox could no longer contain himself and launched into coarse insults. Pitt replied, “Sympathetic as I am with the position of the honorable gentleman who has just spoken, with the torture of his dashed hopes, his illusions that have been destroyed, and his ambition that has been disappointed, I declare that I would consider myself inexcusable if the outbursts of a mind crushed by the weight of devouring regret were to arouse in me any other emotion than that of pity. I declare that they do not have the power to provoke my anger nor even my scorn.” I will stop there. In truth, this story would be endless. If I have quoted illustrious names, it is certainly not for the vain pleasure of denigrating great reputations. I thought that my argument would be given even more force by including them. If a rash law could humiliate men such as the Pitts and the Foxes to this extent, what would it not have done to more common mortals, such as Walpole, Burke, and North? What should be noted above all is that England was the plaything and victim of these coalitions. One led to a ruinous war, the other to a humiliating peace. A third caused the failure of the plan conceived by Pitt for justice and reparation in favor of Ireland.26 How much suffering and shame would have been spared England and humanity by this plan! What a sad sight is that of statesmen abandoned to the shame of perpetual contradiction! Chatham, when in opposition, taught that the slightest sign of commercial prosperity in France was a calamity for Great Britain. Chatham, when a minister, concluded a peace with France and pronounced that the prosperity of one people is beneficial to all the others. We are accustomed to seeing in Fox a defender of French ideas. Doubtless he was, when Pitt was making war on us. But when Pitt negotiated the treaty of 1786,27 Fox said in as many words that hostility was the natural state of things, the normal situation with regard to relations between the two peoples. Unfortunately, these changes in views, which were only strategic maneuvers for the coalitions, were taken seriously by the people. This is why we have seen them pleading for peace or war in turn at the whim of the leader who was popular at the time. In this lies the great danger of coalitions. We might rightly say that for the last few years these types of maneuver are so decried in England that their statesmen no longer dare to indulge in them. What does that prove, other than that, because of their disastrous effects, they have finally opened the eyes of the people and molded their experience? I am well aware that man is naturally liable to progress, that he always ends by becoming enlightened, if not by farsightedness, at least by experience, and that a corrupt institution loses its effectiveness for harm in the long run as a result of doing harm. Is this a reason for adopting such an institution? Besides, it should not be believed that England escaped this scourge a long time ago. We have seen the country suffering its ill effects within our lifetimes. In 1824, as the state of the finances was hopeless, a clever minister, Huskisson, thought of a great reform which was very unpopular at the time. Huskisson had to content himself with carrying out a few experiments in order to prepare and enlighten public opinion. At the time, there was a young man in Parliament, who was deeply versed in economics and who understood the full greatness and extent of this reform. If, as a member of Parliament, his access to government had been barred, he would have had nothing better to do than to help Huskisson in his difficult enterprise. But there was also a fatal Article 79 in the English constitution. And Sir Robert Peel, for it was he, said to himself: “This reform is fine, and it is I and I alone who will accomplish it.” However, to do this, he had to be a minister. To be a minister, he had to overthrow Huskisson. For Huskisson to be overthrown, he had to be made unpopular. To make him unpopular, Sir Robert had to decry the work that he admired deep in his heart. This is what Sir Robert set out to do. Huskisson died without achieving his idea. Finances were desperate. A heroic solution had to be conceived. Lord John Russell put forward a bill that started and implied the said reform. Sir Robert did not scruple to oppose it furiously. The bill failed. Russell advised the king to dissolve Parliament and call for an election, so grave was the situation. Sir Robert filled England with protectionist arguments, which were contrary to his convictions but essential to his plans. The old preconceived ideas prevailed. The new House of Commons overthrew Russell, and Peel entered the government with the express mission of opposing any reform. You can see that he was not afraid to take the longest way round. However, Sir Robert had counted on help that was not slow to appear, public affliction. Since his careful attentions had delayed the reform, the state of finances had naturally gone from bad to worse. All the budgets had resulted in terrifying deficits. Because foodstuffs had not been able to enter Great Britain, the country experienced famine accompanied, as is always the case, by criminal acts, debauchery, illness, and death. Affliction! Nothing is more propitious to make a people fickle. Public opinion, supported by a powerful league, demanded freedom. The situation had reached the point that Sir Robert wanted. He then betrayed his past, his constituents, and his parliamentary party; and one fine day he proclaimed that he had become converted to political economy and carried out himself the very reform which, to England’s great misfortune, he had delayed for ten years with the sole aim of robbing others of the glory of its achievement. He gained this glory but paid dearly for it through being abandoned by all his friends and having to suffer pangs of conscience. We also have our constitutional history, in other words, the history of our portfolio war, a war that throws our country into turmoil and oft en corrupts it altogether. I will not spend much time on this; it would just be an echo of what has already been read, with changes in the names of the players and a few of the stage details. The point to which I want above all to draw the reader’s attention is not so much the deplorable nature of the maneuvers of parliamentary coalitions as the most dangerous aspect of one of their effects: the popularization of injustice and absurdity for a while and the rendering unpopular of truth itself. One day, M. de Villèle noticed that the state had a little credit, and that he could borrow at 4½ percent. We then had heavy debt with interest that cost us 5 percent. M. de Villèle thought of putting the following proposal to the state’s creditors: agree from now on to receive only the interest at today’s rate for all transactions or take back your capital; I am ready to give it back to you. What was more reasonable and just, and how many times has France really asked for such a simple measure since then? However, in the Chamber there were deputies who wanted to become ministers. Their natural role, therefore, was to find fault with M. de Villèle in anything and everything. They thus decried the conversion with so much noise and intensity that France wanted no truck with it at any price. It appeared that to give back a few million to the taxpayers was to tear out their entrails. When the upright M. Laffite, imbued by his financial experience to the extent of forgetting his role as a coalition member, decided to say: “After all, there is an advantage in the conversion,” he was instantly denounced as a renegade, and Paris no longer wanted him as its deputy. Imagine making a just decrease in the interest paid to stockholders unpopular! Since coalitions have achieved this tour de force, they will surely achieve a good many others. Such being the case, at present we are still paying for this lesson and what is worse, we do not appear to be benefiting from it. But here is M. Molé in power. Two men of talent entered the Chamber under the governance of the new charter, which also has its Article 79. This article whispered in the ear of one of our two deputies these seductive words: “If you can manage to demolish M. Molé by making him unpopular, one of you will take his place.” And our two champions, who have never been able to agree on anything, agreed perfectly about heaping floods of unpopularity on M. Molé’s head. What terrain did they choose? Matters concerning foreign affairs. This was about the only one on which the two men of opposing political opinions were able to agree for a moment. Besides, it was perfectly suited to the aim they had in mind. “The government is cowardly and traitorous, and it is humiliating the French flag. We ourselves are the true patriots and defenders of national honor.” What is better calculated to debase your opponent and raise yourself in the eyes of a public that is so well known to be sensitive to points of honor? It is true that if this exalted feeling of patriotism is pushed too far in the masses, it may result initially in scuffles and then in universal conflagration. However, this was just a secondary consideration in the eyes of a coalition; the essential lay in seizing power. At the time of which we are speaking, M. Molé had found France bound by a treaty that included, if I am not mistaken, the following clause which I quote: “When the Austrians leave the legations,28 the French will leave Ancona.” Well, once the Austrians left the legations, the French left Ancona. Nothing in the world was more natural and just. Unless it is claimed that the glory of France lies in violating treaties and that she has been given promises so that she can deceive those with whom she negotiates, M. Molé was right a thousand times. However, it was precisely on this question that MM Thiers and Guizot, supported by a public opinion that had been misled, succeeded in overthrowing him. And it was on this occasion that M. Thiers professed the famous doctrine on the value of international undertakings that has made him an impossible man since it has done nothing less than make France itself an impossible nation, at least among civilized peoples. But the essence of coalitions is to create future embarrassment and obstacles for those who enter into them. The reason for this is simple. While people are in systematic opposition, they declare sublime principles and fierce patriotism and clothe themselves in outraged austerity. When the hour of success sounds, they enter the government, but they are obliged to leave all declamatory baggage outside the door and humbly follow the policy of their predecessors. This is why the public conscience loses any faith it has. The people see a policy that they have been taught to find despicable being continued. They say sadly to themselves, “The men who gained my confidence through their fine speeches in opposition never fail to betray it when they become ministers.” Fortunately, they do not add: “From now on, I will be calling upon men of action, not speechmakers.” We have just seen MM Thiers and Guizot aim the batteries of Ancona against M. Molé in parliament. I could now demonstrate how other coalitions have disparaged M. Guizot using the batteries of Tahiti,29 Morocco,30 and Syria.31 But the story would really become tedious if I did. It is always the same. Two or three deputies from a variety of parties, oft en opposed to one another and oft en irreconcilable, get it into their heads that they ought to be ministers whatever happens. They calculate that all these parties together would be able to form a majority or very close to one. Therefore they form a coalition. They do not bother with serious administrative or financial reform that would lead to public good. No, they would not agree on this. Besides, the role of a coalition is to attack men violently and abuses tepidly! Destroy abuse! That would be to reduce the inheritance to which they aspire! Our two or three leaders pitch their camp firmly on questions relating to foreign affairs. Their mouths are full of the words: national honor, patriotism, the greatness of France, and physical and moral superiority. They whip up the journals and then public opinion; they exalt it, inflame it, and overexcite it, now on the question of the Egyptian pasha, then on the right of search, and yet again on questions raised by someone such as Pritchard.32 They lead us right up to the brink of war. Europe is racked by anxiety. Armies are increased on all sides and budgets with them. “Just a little more effort,” says the coalition; “The government must fall or Europe has to be in flames.” The government does indeed fall, but the armies remain, as do the budgets. One of the happy victors joins the government; the two others remain on the wayside and go on to form a new coalition with the overthrown ministers that uses the same intrigues to achieve the same results. If anyone thinks of saying to the newly appointed government, “Now reduce the army and the budget,” they will reply, “What! Do you not see how oft en the danger of war arises in Europe?” And the people chorus: “They are right.” So the burden increases with each government crisis until it becomes unbearable and the artificial perils abroad are replaced by the genuine ones at home. And the government says: “We have to arm half of the nation to keep the other half in check.” Whereupon the people, or at least that part of the people who still have something to lose, say: “It is right.” Such is the sorry sight that France and England are offering to the rest of the world, to the extent that many people with common sense have been brought to the point of asking themselves whether a representative regime, however logical in theory, is not by its very nature a cruel hoax. That depends. Without Article 79, it lives up to the hopes that gave it birth, as is proved by the example of the United States. With Article 79, it is just a series of illusions and disappointments for the people. And how could it be otherwise? Men have dreamed of greatness, influence, wealth, and glory. Who does not dream of these on occasion? Suddenly the wind of election blows them into the legislative arena. If the constitution of their country tells them, “You are entering here as a deputy and you will remain a deputy,” what good would it do them, I ask you, to torment, hinder, decry, and overturn those in power? However, far from speaking to them thus, the constitution tells one of them, “The government needs to increase its following and has high political office in its gift, which I do not forbid you to accept,” and another, “You have daring and talent; there is the ministers’ bench. If you succeed in removing the incumbents, your place will be on it.” At this point, infallibly, the floods of angry accusations begin, the unheard-of efforts to gain the support of a fleeting popularity, and the grand display of unattainable principles when the person is on the attack or abject concessions when he is on the defensive. There is nothing but traps and counter-traps, feints and counterfeints, mines and countermines. Politics becomes mere strategy. Operations are carried out outside and in offices, commissions, and committees. The slightest accident in parliament, the election of the treasurer of a parliamentary assembly, is a signal that makes hearts beat fast through fear or hope. No greater interest would be aroused if it were a question of the Civil Code itself. The most unlikely elements form alliances and the most natural alliances dissolve. Here, a partisan spirit forms a coalition. There, the undercover skill of one minister causes the downfall of another. If a matter arises concerning a law on which the well-being of the people depends but which does not involve a question of confidence, the Chamber is deserted. On the other hand, any event that occurs that carries within it general conflagration is always welcome if it offers a terrain on which assault ladders may be raised. Ancona, Tahiti, Morocco, Syria, Pritchard, the right of inspection or fortifications,33 any of these is a good excuse, provided that the coalition can gain enough strength from it to overthrow the cabinet. At this point we are drenched in this type of stereotyped lamentations, “At home, France is suffering, etc., etc., while abroad, France is humiliated, etc., etc.” Is this true? Is it false? Nobody cares. Will this measure make us quarrel with Europe? Will it oblige us to keep five hundred thousand men constantly on the ready? Will it stop the march of civilization? Will it create obstacles for any future government? That is not the point. Basically, just one thing is of interest: the fall or triumph of a particular name. And do not think that this political perversity affects only base hearts within parliament, hearts that are consumed by ignoble ambition, the commonplace lovers of well-paid positions. No, it attacks over and above all the highest minds, noble hearts, and powerful intellects. To tame men like these, it needs only Article 79 to awaken in the depths of their consciences, in place of the trivial thought: You will achieve your dreams of wealth, this much more dominant idea: You will achieve your dreams for the public good. Lord Chatham had shown evidence of great disinterest, and M. Guizot has never been accused of worshipping the golden calf. We have seen these two men in coalitions, and what did they do there? Everything that a thirst for power and, perhaps worse, a thirst for riches might suggest. The display of sentiments they did not have, clothing themselves in ferocious patriotism of which they did not approve, generating embarrassment for the government of their country, making negotiations of the highest importance fail, inciting journalism and public views to follow the most perilous paths, creating problems for their own future government through all of this, and preparing themselves in advance for shameful retractions: that is what they did. Why? Because the tempting demon, hidden in the form of an Article 79, had whispered in their ear these words, whose seductive power it has known from the beginning: “Eritis sicut dii;34 overturn everything in your path, but achieve power and you will be the providence of the people.” And the deputy, succumbing to this, makes speeches, sets out doctrines, and carries out actions of which his conscience disapproves. He says to himself: “I have to do this to make my way. Once I have reached government, I will be able to return to my genuine ideas and my true principles.” There are therefore very few deputies who are not diverted by the prospect of government from the straight line that their constituents were entitled to see them pursue. Here again, if the war for portfolios, this scourge which the fabulist might have included in his sorry list between plague and famine, if only this war for portfolios was limited to the chamber of the national palace! But the field of battle has gradually expanded right up to and beyond the borders of our country. Warlike masses are everywhere; only their leaders remain in the Chamber. They know that, in order to reach the body of the fort, they have to start by conquering the outer works—journalism, popularity, public opinion, and electoral majorities. It is therefore fatal for all these forces, to the extent that they support or oppose the coalition, to become impregnated and imbued with the passions that are aroused in parliament. Journalism from one end of France to the other no longer discusses; it pleads a case. It argues for and against each law and each measure, not on the basis of what good or harm they contain but solely from the point of view of the assistance they might provide temporarily to this or that champion. The government press has only one motto: E sempre bene,35 and the press for the opposition, like the old woman in the satire, lets the following word be read on her petticoat: Argumentabor.36 When journalism has thus decided to mislead the general public and mislead itself, it is able to accomplish some surprising miracles of this sort. Let us recall the right of inspection.37 For I do not know how many years this treaty was carried out without anyone taking any notice. However, since a coalition needed a strategic expedient, it unearthed this unfortunate treaty and used it as the basis of its operations. Within a short time, with the help of journalism, the coalition succeeded in making every Frenchman believe that it had only one clause, which stated: “English warships will have the right to inspect French commercial ships.” I have no need to relate the explosion of patriotism that a notion like this was bound to generate. It reached a point at which we still cannot understand how a world war could have been avoided. I remember at this time finding myself in a circle of many people who were fulminating against this odious treaty. Someone thought of asking, “How many of you have read it?” It was fortunate for him that his audience had no stones to hand or he would inevitably have been stoned. Besides, the involvement of the journals in the war for portfolios and the role they play in it was revealed by one of them in terms that deserve to be quoted here (La Presse dated 17 November 1845): “M. Petetin describes the press as he understands it and as he likes fondly to imagine it. In good faith, does he believe that when Le Constitutionnel, Le Siècle, etc., attack M. Guizot and when in turn Le Journal des débats takes on M. Thiers, these papers fight solely for the idea in its essence, for truth, stimulated by the internal needs of conscience? Defining the press in this way is to paint it as one imagines it, not to paint it as it is. It costs us nothing to declare this, for if we are journalists we are less so by vocation than by circumstance. Every day we see the press in the service of human passions, rival ambitions, ministerial alliances, parliamentary intrigue, a wide variety and the most diverse of political calculations and those that are the least noble; we see it associating closely with these. But we rarely see it in the service of ideas, and when by chance a journal happens to take hold of an idea, it is never for itself, it is always as a governmental instrument of defense or attack. He who is writing these lines is speaking from experience. Every time he has tried to make journalism leave the partisan rut for the open fields of ideas and reform, the path of the healthy application of economic science to public administration, he has found himself alone, and has had to acknowledge that, outside the narrow circle drawn by the assembled letters of four or five individuals, there was no possible discussion, and no politics.” In truth, I do not know to what demonstration to turn if the reader is not scandalized and appalled by such a terrible admission? Finally, just as the evil, having escaped parliament, invaded journalism, through journalism it invaded the whole of public opinion. How could the general public not be misled when, day after day, La Tribune and La Presse concentrated on allowing only false glimmers, false judgments, false quotations, and false assertions to reach it? We have seen that the terrain on which ministerial battles normally take place is first of all the question of foreign affairs, followed by parliamentary and electoral corruption. With regard to foreign affairs, everyone understands the danger of this incessant work undertaken by coalitions to whip up national hatred, inflame patriotic pride, and persuade the country that foreigners are thinking only of humiliating them and the executive power only of betraying them. I trust I may be allowed to say that this danger is perhaps greater in France than anywhere else. Our civilization has made work a necessity for us. It is our means of existence and progress. Production develops through security, freedom, order, and peace. Unfortunately, university education is in flagrant contradiction with the needs of our time. By making us live throughout our youth the life of the Spartans and Romans, it fosters in our souls the sentiment common to children and barbarians, an admiration for brute force. The sight of a fine regiment, the sound of a flourish of trumpets, the appearance of the machines invented by men to break each other’s arms and legs, or the strutting of a drum major, all put us in a state of ecstasy. Like barbarians, we believe that patriotism means a hatred of foreigners. As soon as our intelligence begins to grow, it is nourished solely with military virtues, the great policies of the Romans, their profound diplomacy, and the strength of their legions. We learn our morals from Livy. Our catechism is Quintus Curtius and our enthusiasm is offered, as an ideal of civilization, a nation that founded its means of existence on the methodical plundering of the entire world. It is easy to understand how the efforts of parliamentary coalitions, which are always directed toward war, find us so eager to support them. They could not sow on a field that is better prepared. For this reason, in the space of a few years we came on three occasions within a whisker of clashing with Spain, Morocco, Turkey, Russia, Austria, and England. What would have become of France if calamities like these had not been averted with great difficulty and almost in spite of what she was doing? Louis-Philippe fell, but nothing will stop me from saying that he rendered the world an immense service by maintaining the peace. How much sweat this success worthy of the blessings of nations cost him! And why (this is the heart of my thesis)? Because at a given time peace no longer had public opinion on its side. And why did it not have public opinion on its side? Because it did not suit the newspapers. And why did it not suit them? Because it was inconvenient for some deputy, who aspired to a ministry. And why in the end was it inconvenient for this deputy? Because accusations of weakness and treason have been, are, and always will be the favorite weapon of deputies who aspire to portfolios and need to overthrow those who hold them. The other point on which coalitions normally attack the government is corruption. In this respect, during the last regime, it was quite easy for them. However, do coalitions not make corruption itself inevitable, so to speak? The government, being attacked on a matter on which it is in the right—such as, for example, when people want to incite it to start an unjust war—initially defends itself using reason. However, it soon realizes that reason is powerless and that it has broken itself against systematic opposition. What recourse has it left in these circumstances? To create at all costs for itself a solid majority and to oppose one prejudice with another. This was Walpole’s defensive weapon and that of M. Guizot. I hope I will not be accused of presenting an apology or justification for corruption here. However, I will say this: given the state of the human heart, coalitions make corruption inevitable. The opposite implies contradiction, for if the government were honest, it would fall. It exists; therefore it corrupts. The only cabinets that have ever been stable to any extent were those which created a majority for themselves in spite of this: those of Walpole, North, Villèle, and Guizot. And now let the reader imagine a country in which the major political meetings, chambers, and electoral bodies are under pressure, on the one hand from the maneuvers of systematic opposition, backed up by a journalism sowing hatred, lies, and warlike ideas, and on the other by government maneuvers instilling venality and corruption in the very fibers of the social body! And this has been going on for centuries! And this is becoming the permanent situation of the representative regime! Should we be surprised if honest people end up by losing all trust in it? It is true that from time to time we see leaders change their role. However, an event like this serves only to substitute universal and indelible skepticism for the last vestiges of trust. I must close. I will end with a consideration of the greatest importance. The National Assembly has established a constitution. We ought to give it the most profound respect. It is the lifeline of our purposes. However, this is not a reason to close our eyes to the dangers that it may present by virtue of its claims as a work of human construction, especially if, in this conscientious scrutiny, we set ourselves the aim of banishing from all its ancillary institutions anything that is likely to germinate a disastrous seed. Everyone will agree, I think, that the danger of our constitution is to bring face to face two powers which are or may think they are rivals and equals because both take advantage of the universal suffrage from which they arise.38 Already the possibility of irreconcilable conflict is alarming many minds and has given rise to two very distinct theories. Some claim that the February revolution against the former executive power has not felt able to propose a reduction in the preponderance of the legislative power. On the contrary, the chairman of the Council claimed that, although in previous times the government had to withdraw in the face of majorities, this was not the case today. Be that as it may, any sincere advocate of security or stability ought to hope ardently that no actual opportunity for this conflict of power will occur and that the danger, if it exists, will remain latent. If this is so, will we with light hearts establish a clear cause of artificial government crises within the electoral law? Faced with the huge constitutional difficulty confronting and appalling us, will we organize parliamentary strife before going our own ways, as though to increase at whim the opportunities for conflict? Let us therefore meditate on this: what were known as government crises in former times will now be called struggles for power and will take on gigantic proportions because of this. We have already seen this, even though the constitution has scarcely been in existence for two months, and without the admirable moderation of the National Assembly we would now be in the eye of a revolutionary storm. Certainly, this is a powerful reason for avoiding the creation of artificial causes of government crises. Under the constitutional monarchy, they did a great deal of harm, but in the end a solution was found. The king could dissolve the Chamber and go to the country. If the country condemned the opposition, the result arose from a new majority and the harmony of powers was reestablished. If the country condemned the government, this also resulted from a majority and the king could not refuse to give way. Now, the question no longer arises between the opposition and the government. It arises between the legislative power and the executive power, both with a mandate for a specific duration39 ; that is to say, it arises between two expressions of universal suffrage. Once again, I am not seeking to determine who should give way, but am limiting myself to saying, “Let us accept the ordeal if it occurs naturally, but let us not be so imprudent as to cause it to arise artificially several times a year. Well, drawing on the lessons of the past, I ask the question: is not a declaration that representatives may aspire to portfolios an invitation to foment coalitions, increase the number of government crises, or, to express it better, struggles for power? I ask my colleagues to reflect on this. Now I will deal with two objections. It has been said: “You read a great deal into the eligibility of deputies to enter government. To hear you it would appear that, without this, the republic would be a paradise. By closing the door of power to deputies, do you think that you can extinguish all passions? Have you yourself not declared that in England coalitions have become impossible as a result of their unpopularity, and have we not seen Peel and Russell lend each other loyal support?” The argument can be summed up thus: Because there will always be evil passions, let us conclude that sustenance for the most harmful of all should be included in the law. That with time and because they cause harm repeatedly, coalitions will wear out, I believe. There is no scourge about which as much can be said, and this is a singular reason for sowing the seed of coalition government in our laws. Superfluous wars and burdensome taxes, the fruit of coalitions, have taught England to scorn them. I do not say that after two or three centuries, at the cost of similar calamities, we might not learn the same lesson. The question is to know whether it is better to reject a bad law or to adopt it on the basis that the excessive harm it does will generate a reaction toward good in a hundred years. It has also been said: to forbid governmental posts to deputies is to deprive the country of all of the great talents that are revealed in the National Assembly. For my part, I say that forbidding governmental posts to deputies is, on the contrary, to keep the great talents in the service of the general good. To show the prospect of power to a man of genius who is a representative is to lead him on to do a hundred times more harm as a member of a coalition than he would ever do good as the member of a cabinet. It would be to turn his very genius against public tranquillity. Besides, do we not delude ourselves by imagining that all the great talents are in the Chamber? Do we not believe that, in the entire armed forces, there is no one who would make a good minister of war and in the entire judiciary no one who would make a good minister of justice? If there are men of genius in the Chamber, let them stay there. They will exercise a good influence on the majorities and the government, especially since they will no longer have any interest in exercising a bad one. Besides, even if the objection had any value, it would give way before the immeasurably greater dangers of coalition that are the inevitable consequence of the article that I oppose. Do we hope to find a solution that has no disadvantages at all? Let us be capable of choosing the lesser of two evils. The following is a singular form of logic and one used by all sophists: Your proposal has a tiny disadvantage and mine has immense ones. We therefore must reject yours because of the tiny disadvantage it has. Let us sum up this dissertation, which is both too long and too short. The question of parliamentary conflicts of interest is at the very heart of the Constitution. For the last year, we have not turned over a question that is more in need of being resolved correctly. The solution that is in line with justice and the public good appears to me to be based on two principles that are clear, simple, and incontrovertible: 1. For entering the National Assembly there should be no exclusion, but precautions should be taken with regard to civil servants. 2. For moving from representative seats to political office, there should be total exclusion. In other words: All electors are eligible. All representatives must remain representatives. All this is found in the amendment that I have formulated thus: 1. Civil servants elected as deputies will not lose their rights and titles and cannot be either promoted or dismissed from these. They cannot exercise their functions nor receive salaries for these for the entire duration of their mandate. 2. A deputy cannot accept any public office, especially that of a minister. Bastiat’s Political Writings: Anecdotes and ReflectionsIn the present volume, we focus on Bastiat’s political writings, most of which were written in the 1840s on behalf of the various political campaigns in which Bastiat was involved. Not surprisingly, Bastiat was greatly affected, both personally and in his political outlook, by those campaigns and the people and events associated with them: his early activity in the free-trade movement; his burgeoning contact with the Parisian-based political economists in the Société d’économie politique;1 his political activity as an elected member of the Constituent Assembly and then the Legislative Assembly during the revolutionary years of 1848 and 1849; and his struggles in the Chamber of Deputies, in the periodical press, and on the streets against the growing socialist movement. During our work on this translation of Bastiat’s political writings, we have come across interesting and sometimes unexpected material about the life and ideas, the colleagues and opponents, of Bastiat. Thus, in this essay I have gathered information about Bastiat and his political and intellectual milieu; much of the material is of a personal and anecdotal nature, and as such will, we hope, provide an added dimension to our understanding of the man and his ideas and complement the translation and the accompanying notes. The Law-Abiding RevolutionaryIn a review of a collection of letters Bastiat wrote to the Cheuvreux family, the young economist Gustave de Molinari reminisced about his revolutionary activities with Bastiat in 1848.2 Bastiat was then forty-seven and Molinari twenty-nine. Molinari notes that the February revolution forced the young radical liberals to “replace our economic agitation [for free trade] with a politico-socialist agitation,” which they did on 24 February, the same date that Molinari and a young friend decided to start a new magazine to be called La République. The prime minister at the time, François Guizot, was forced to resign on 23 February, and a provisional government was formed on 26 February. (Thus, Molinari and his friend tried to start their new journal the day after the revolution broke out.) Molinari asked Bastiat if he would join him as co-editor; Bastiat agreed to do so with the understanding that they would abide by the censorship laws, which at the time called for approval by the government before publication took place. Molinari wryly noted that Bastiat told them that “we may be making a revolution but revolutions do not violate the laws!” The three of them proceeded to the Hôtel de Ville in order to have their hastily written screed approved by the government, but the building was in complete turmoil with armed revolutionaries milling about. They wisely decided that the provisional government was “otherwise occupied,” and Bastiat consented to publish the journal without prior approval. In Montmartre, on their way to the printer, they came across another would-be revolutionary who was hawking a journal that had already taken the name La République—such was the competition at the time for catchy titles. The three decided on the spot to rename their journal La République française and had five thousand copies printed and distributed. Like most periodicals at the time, La République française lasted a very short while, but it did include a number of “striking” articles penned by Bastiat directed at the working class, who were pushing the revolution in an increasingly socialist direction. As Molinari notes, their journal “was decidedly not at the peak of the events” that were swirling about them, and it soon folded. Undaunted, Molinari and Bastiat decided to launch another journal, this time directed squarely at working people, to be called Jacques Bonhomme, a wordplay on the nickname given to the average working Frenchman. Molinari and Bastiat joined with Charles Coquelin, Alcide Fonteyraud, and Joseph Garnier to launch the new journal in June 1848, just before the June Days uprising (23–26 June). On 21 June the government, because of out-of-control expenses, decided to close the so-called National Workshops, which were a government program to provide state-subsidized employment to unemployed workers. This action was promptly followed by a mass uprising in Paris to protest the decision, and troops were called in to suppress the protesters, causing considerable loss of life. During this time, Bastiat sent Molinari and the editorial committee an article he had written titled “Dissolve the National Workshops!” which appeared on the front page of the very last issue of Jacques Bonhomme. Jacques Bonhomme seems to have lasted for only four issues (June–July 1848), its lifespan abruptly truncated when Bastiat and his colleagues wisely decided to shut it down because the troops were shooting people in the streets of Paris. The State as the “Great Fiction”Bastiat’s essay L’État (The State) is probably his best-known work in English. In this volume we are reprinting a draft of his essay that appeared in the 11–15 June 1848 issue of Jacques Bonhomme, about a week before the shootings of the rioters began in Paris and shortly before the journal was forced to close. The essay was written to appeal to people on the streets of Paris and to attempt to woo them away from the spread of socialist ideas. Three months later Bastiat rewrote the piece, and it appeared in the 25 September 1848 issue of Le Journal des débats, where it was featured on the front page of the journal’s four very densely printed pages.3 Bastiat’s famous definition of the state is given in the pamphlet: “The state is the great fiction by which everyone endeavors to live at the expense of everyone else.”4 Bastiat’s theory of the state was taken up for discussion in some detail in a meeting of the Société d’économie politique, of which Bastiat was a member, on 10 January 1850.5 In the meeting, the liberal economist Louis Wolowski defended a more expansive role for the state but was challenged by Bastiat and other members of the society. Bastiat’s pamphlet stirred up so much interest that future meetings of the society were set aside for futher discussion of the matter. The entry “L’État” by Charles Coquelin (who attended the January meeting) in the Dictionnaire de l’économie politique (1852)6 quoted so extensively from Bastiat’s pamphlet that one could say that the dictionary entry was half written by him—an indication of the influence that Bastiat’s ideas had on the closely knit circle of political economists. Even fifty years later the reverberations of Bastiat’s ideas were still being felt. At a meeting of the society on 5 August 1899, the topic for discussion was Bastiat’s acclaimed definition of the state with the additional topic, “Is this always the case, and what will it become in the future?”7 Bastiat’s Publisher, the Librairie de GuillauminBastiat, like most of those involved in the free-trade and classical liberal circles, had his books published by Gilbert Guillaumin’s publishing firm, Librairie de Guillaumin et Cie, a publishing dynasty that lasted from 1835 to around 1910. Guillaumin’s firm had become the focal point for the classical liberal movement in France, eventually developing into the major publishing house for classical liberal ideas in nineteenth-century France.8 Gilbert-Urbain Guillaumin (1801–64) was orphaned at the age of five and brought up by his uncle. He came to Paris in 1819 and worked in a bookstore before founding his publishing firm in 1835. Guillaumin became active in liberal politics after the revolution of 1830 brought the July Monarchy to power and made contact with a number of free-market economists. In addition to his publishing firm, Guillaumin helped found Le Journal des économistes in 1841 and the Société d’économie politique in 1842. Bastiat was a regular contributor to Le Journal des économistes before his death at the end of 1850, and he was a regular attendee of the monthly meetings of the Société d’économie politique, which oft en debated his books and ideas. Guillaumin’s firm published hundreds of books on economic issues, making its catalog a virtual who’s who of the liberal movement in France. The firm’s 1866 catalog listed 166 separate book titles, not counting journals and other periodicals. For example, Guillaumin published the works of Quesnay, Turgot, Jean-Baptiste Say, Dunoyer, Bastiat, Molinari, and many others, including translations of works by Hugo Grotius, Adam Smith, Jeremy Bentham, Thomas Malthus, David Ricardo, John Stuart Mill, and Charles Darwin. The 1849 Guillaumin catalog was five pages long, and Bastiat’s “Petits Pamphlets” were prominently displayed on page 3. The first and second series of his Economic Sophisms could be purchased for four francs each, and The State for only forty centimes. There was also an announcement of Bastiat’s forthcoming work Economic Harmonies. In the 1866 Guillaumin catalog (now thirty-three pages long) one could purchase the newly announced volume seven of the Paillottet edition of Bastiat’s Œuvres complètes for three francs. By the mid-1840s Guillaumin’s home and business had become the focal point of the classical liberal lobby in Paris, which debated and published material opposed to a number of causes that they believed threatened liberty in France: statism, protectionism, socialism, militarism, and colonialism. After Guillaumin’s death in 1864, the firm’s activities were continued by his oldest daughter, Félicité, and after her death the firm was handed over to his youngest daughter, Pauline. The Guillaumin firm continued in one form or another from 1835 to 1910, when it merged with the publisher Félix Alcan. The business was located at 14 rue de Richelieu, in a central part of Paris not far from the Seine, the Tuileries Gardens, the Louvre, the Palais Royal, the Comédie Française, and the Bibliothèque Nationale de France. The crowning glory of the Guillaumin publishing firm in the mid-nineteenth century was the two-volume, double-columned, two-thousand-page Dictionnaire d’économie politique, which Guillaumin co-edited with Charles Coquelin.9 The dictionary contains a number of articles written by Bastiat, and the spirit of his ideas pervades throughout. By its sheer size, breadth, and scope, the Dictionnaire d’économie politique is truly one of the cornerstones of nineteenth-century classical liberal scholarship. Bastiat’s Editor and Executor, Prosper Paillottet (1804–78)Prosper Paillottet10 was a successful businessman who was drawn to Bastiat’s free-trade association, the Association pour la liberté des échanges, in the mid-1840s, joining it in its earliest days. Paillottet eventually became a firm friend of and companion to the ailing Bastiat, caring for him when he was very ill in Italy. Paillottet was with Bastiat during his last few days and formed the Société des amis de Bastiat (Society of the Friends of Bastiat) only five days after Bastiat’s death in order to preserve his papers and draft s and to edit his collected works. Paillottet made his living in the jewelry business, and his modest wealth enabled him to devote most of his energies to philanthropic causes. He was vice president of the Labor Tribunal (Conseil des prud’hommes) and a member of the Commission for the Encouragement of Workers’ Associations (Conseil de l’encouragement aux associations ouvrières) and of the recently formed Société d’économie politique (meetings of which Bastiat also attended). Paillottet was very active in the Association pour la liberté des échanges, even learning English in order to help Bastiat translate material on or by the Anti–Corn Law League. Much of this material probably ended up in Bastiat’s book on the English Anti–Corn Law League, Cobden et la Ligue, ou l’agitation anglaise pour la liberté du commerce (1845), which consisted mostly of translations of Anti–Corn Law League pamphlets, newspaper articles, and speeches.11 As Bastiat’s health worsened during 1850, Paillottet became his virtual secretary, editor, and research assistant, assisting with the editing and publishing of Bastiat’s pamphlet Property and Plunder and the second edition of Economic Harmonies, which was published by the Société des amis de Bastiat.12 On his deathbed Bastiat authorized Paillottet to collect his manuscripts and papers and to publish them in his complete works, the first edition of which appeared in 1854–55, with a second edition in 1862–64. The various volumes of the series remained in print for much of the nineteenth century.13 In Paillottet’s edition, which forms the basis of our translation, the reader is guided by the frequent and oft en intriguing footnotes and comments inserted by Bastiat’s close friend throughout the volumes. Paillottet wrote several articles and book reviews of his own that appeared in Le Journal des économistes. Two of those articles were published separately in book form:14 an essay on intellectual property rights,15 and a translation of a religious work by William Johnson Fox, who had been a popular orator in the Manchester League and a Unitarian minister.16 The Concept of IndividualismIn nineteeth-century France the word individualism had strong negative connotations, and Bastiat seemed to share some of the contemporary reservations about embracing the term to describe his own philosophy.17 Nevertheless, by the end of the century he was definitely categorized by his free-market heirs as one of the leading members of the French school of individualism. The term individualism was coined by conservative counterrevolutionary theorists in the early nineteenth century to criticize the Enlightenment’s overemphasis on the rights of individuals at the expense of crown, church, and community. This idea had manifested itself, Edmund Burke and Joseph de Maistre believed, in the excesses of the French Revolution and had also been taken up by Saint-Simon and other French socialist thinkers in the 1820s and 1830s in order to contrast the more “socially responsible” rule by a technocratic elite (Saint-Simon) or by “the people” themselves (Louis Blanc) with the economic and political order created by the free market, in which individuals subordinated all broader social concerns to their own narrow selfish interests. Many French free-market political economists were aware of the writings of Adam Smith and other members of the Scottish Enlightenment, who argued that the reverse was in fact the case: that human beings were naturally sociable and that their search for private benefits resulted in the creation of public benefits (Bernard de Mandeville) as if “an invisible hand” (Adam Smith) were guiding their activity. This more-positive view of individualism (even though Bastiat was wary of directly adopting the word) lies at the heart of his notion of “economic harmony,” which was the title of his magnum opus (Economic Harmonies). Bastiat rejected the idea that there were only three means by which society could be organized: authority (of the church and the state), individualism, or fraternity (under socialism). The proper distinction according to Bastiat was between coerced association (whether by church or state or by “the people”) and voluntary association (which lay at the heart of his idea of the free market). Liberal conservatives, on the other hand, like Alexis de Tocqueville writing in the late 1830s, worried that the democracy unfolding in America would result in a form of individualism that would weaken the ability of intermediate institutions to reduce its deleterious effects. Later in the century attitudes to individualism had changed significantly. In the entry on “Individualism” in the Nouveau dictionnaire de économie politique (1891–92), a clear distinction is made between “egoism” (which is rejected) and “individualism” (which was a legitimate reaction against socialism, militarism, and statism). Among the individualists the author mentioned approvingly were Wilhelm von Humboldt, Böhm-Bawerk, Karl Menger, Eugen Richter from the Austro-German school; Jeremy Bentham, Adam Smith, Herbert Spencer, Henry Sumner Maine from the Anglo-Scottish school; and Jean-Baptiste Say, Charles Dunoyer, Gustave de Molinari, and of course Bastiat from the French school.18 The Idea of Laissez-faireBastiat is now seen as one of the leading advocates of the idea of laissez-faire in the nineteenth century, yet the origin of the term is surrounded by controversy.19 In English the phrase “laissez-faire” has come to mean the economic system in which there is no regulation of economic activity by the state. Other terms have also been used to mean the same thing, such as the “Manchester School” or “Cobdenism,” thus linking this policy prescription to the ideas of Richard Cobden and the Anti–Corn Law League. The origins of the term laissez-faire are not clear. One account attributes the origin to the merchant and physiocrat Vincent de Gournay (1712–59), who used a slightly longer version of the phrase, “laissez faire, laissez passer” (let us do as we wish, let us pass unrestricted) to describe his preferrred government economic policy. Another physiocrat, Anne-Robert-Jacques Turgot (1727–81), attributes the phrase “laissez-nous faire” (let us do as we wish) to the seventeenth-century merchant Legendre, who used the phrase in an argument with the French minister of finance Colbert about the proper role of government in the economy. Yet a third physiocrat, François Quesnay (1694–1774), combined the term with another phrase: “Laissez-nous faire. Ne pas trop gouverner” (Let us do as we wish. Do not govern us too much) to make the same point. A contemporary of Bastiat, Joseph Garnier (1813–81), in the entry for “laissez faire, laissez passer” in the Dictionnaire de l’économie politique, explained laissez-faire to mean “laissez travailler” (leave us free to work as we wish) and laissez passer to mean “laissez échanger” (leave us free to trade as we wish).20 By all these measures, Bastiat is certainly an advocate of laissez-faire in the fullest sense. The Concepts of “Industry” and “Plunder” (Spoliation)Bastiat got many of his ideas from reading a number of classical liberal theorists who were active during Napoléon’s empire and the restoration, most notably the economist Jean-Baptiste Say (1767–1832) and the lawyers and journalists Charles Comte (1782–1837) and Charles Dunoyer (1786–1862). The latter developed an “industrialist theory” of history in which the class of industriels played an important role.21 According to this school of thought there were only two means of acquiring wealth: by productive activity and voluntary exchanges in the free market (l’industrie, which included agriculture, trade, factory production, and services, etc.) or by coercive means (or “plunder,” such as conquest, theft, taxation, subsidies, protection, transfer payments, and slavery). Anybody who acquired wealth through voluntary exchange and productive activities belonged to a class of people collectively called les industrieux. In contrast to les industrieux were those individuals or groups who acquired their wealth by force, coercion, conquest, slavery, or government privileges. The latter group was seen as a ruling class, or as “parasites” and plunderers, who lived at the expense of les industrieux.22 A parallel group of thinkers who shared many of these views developed around Henri Saint-Simon, who advocated rule by a technocratic elite rather than the operations of the free market as did Say, Comte, Dunoyer, and Bastiat. In contrast to Bastiat’s use of the term industry is his use of the word la spoliation (or plunder), which was a key idea in his pamphlet “Propriété et spoliation,” which we have translated as “Property and Plunder.”23 It was the latter principle that had come to prominence during the revolution of 1848, exemplified in the National Workshops and the “right to work” movement, the opposition to which occupied a considerable amount of Bastiat’s time as a deputy. The Right to Work vs the Right or Freedom of WorkingThe “right to work” (le droit au travail, which one might translate in English as the “right to a job”) had been a catch phrase of the socialists throughout the 1840s. What they meant by this term was that the state had the duty to provide work for all men who demanded it. In contrast, the classical liberal economists called for the “right of working,” or the “freedom to work” (la liberté du travail, or le droit de travailler), by which they meant the right of any individual to pursue an occupation or activity without any restraints imposed upon him by the state. The latter point of view was articulated by Charles Dunoyer in his De la liberté du travail and by Bastiat in many of his writings. The socialist perspective was provided by Louis Blanc in L’Organisation du travail and Le Socialisme, droit au travail and by Victor Considérant in La Théorie du droit de propriété et du droit au travail. Matters came to a head in May 1848, when a committee of the Constituent Assembly was formed to discuss the issue of “the right to work” just prior to the closing of the state-run National Workshops, which prompted widespread rioting in Paris. In a veritable “who’s who” of the socialist and liberal movements of the day, a debate took place in the Assembly and was duly published by the classical liberal publishing firm of Guillaumin later in the year along with suitable commentary by such leading liberal economists as Léon Faucher, Louis Wolowski, Joseph Garnier, and, of course, Bastiat.24 Here is the beginning of the “opinion” Bastiat wrote for the volume, in which he distinguished between the right to work (droit au travail, where “work” is used as a noun and thus might be rendered as the “right to a job”) and the “right to work” (droit de travailler, where “work” is used as a verb): My dear Garnier, You ask for my opinion of the “right to a job” (droit au travail), and you seem to be surpised that I did not present it on the floor of the National Assembly. My silence is due solely to the fact that when I asked for the floor, thirty of my colleagues were lined up before me. If one understands by the phrase “right to a job” (droit au travail) the right to work (droit de travailler) (which implies the right to enjoy the fruit of one’s labor), then one can have no doubt on the matter. As far as I’m concerned, I have never written two lines that did not have as their purpose the defense of this notion. But if one means by the “right to a job” that an individual has the right to demand of the state that it take care of him, provide him with a job and a wage by force, then under no circumstances does this bizarre thesis bear close inspection. First of all, does the state have any rights and duties other than those that already exist among the citizens? I have always thought that its mission was to protect already existing rights. For example, even if we abstract the state away from consideration, I have the right to work (droit de travailler) and to dispose of the fruit of my work. My fellow citizens have the same rights, and we have in addition the right to defend them even by the use of force. This is why we have the community, the communal force. The state can and ought to protect us in the exercise of these rights. It is its collective and regularized action that is substituted for individual and disordered action, and the latter is the raison d’être for the former.25 We can see clearly in these passages that Bastiat has a strong view of individual rights, that they exist prior to the formation of the state, that the state exists only to protect these preexisting rights, and that if state force is used to do anything else then it steps outside of its just boundaries. It was precisely this expansion of illegitimate state power that Bastiat was battling during the revolution in 1848 and 1849. Classical Liberal vs Socialist UtopiasAn important part of the classical liberal critique of socialism was its analysis of the utopian vision many socialists had of a future community where their ideals of common ownership of property, the equality of economic conditions, state-planned and state-funded education, and strictly regulated economic activity for the “common good” were practiced. Bastiat makes many references in his writings to the ideas and proposed communities of people like Fénelon, Saint-Simon, Fourier, and Owen. In an article titled “Utopie,” by Hippolyte Passy,26 which summed up the thinking of the liberal political economists on this topic just two years after Bastiat’s death, Passy stated that Bastiat had provided the key insight into the differences between the socialists’ vision and the economists’ vision of the future of society: the socialist vision was a “factice,” or artificial one, with an order imposed by a ruling elite, party, or priesthood; while the liberal vision was a “natural,” or spontaneous, one that flowed “harmoniously” from the voluntary actions of individuals in the marketplace. Given the harshness of the economists’ rejection of socialist utopian schemes,27 it is rather ironic that the classical liberals also had their utopian moments. One could mention Condorcet’s vision of a fully liberal and enlightened future in his Tenth Stage: The Future Progress of the Human Mind (1795),28 Charles Comte’s and Charles Dunoyer’s idea of the “industrial stage” of economic development (1820s), and Gustave de Molinari’s vision of a fully privatized society where there was no role left for the state (1849).29 The Cause of Bastiat’s Untimely DeathIt is not entirely clear what killed Bastiat on Christmas Eve 1850 in Rome. Originally Bastiat had been sent to Pisa by his doctor because of the “better air” there compared with the damp of Paris. We know that Bastiat suffered from a throat condition of some kind and that he lost his ability to speak (a considerable handicap for an elected politician). It was not uncommon for people in his era to die ahead of their time because of serious ailments like tuberculosis (or consumption), but it is also possible that he suffered from throat cancer. According to the minutes of a meeting of the Société d’économie politique, we are given some pieces of information about his condition.30 Bastiat had been an enthusiastic member of the Société d’économie politique, and as the minutes of the society’s meetings show, he attended regularly. His last attendance was the meeting of 10 September 1850, when he came to say farewell to his colleagues before leaving to spend the winter in Italy on his doctor’s advice. He and his colleagues must have known that this was the last time they would see each other, as Bastiat had been ill for some time; he had been getting worse as he struggled to finish the second part of the Economic Harmonies, and indeed he passed away on 24 December later that year. The following comments in the minutes suggest that Bastiat’s illness might have been cancer of the throat and not consumption: M. Frédéric Bastiat, representative of the people, came to this meeting in order to say farewell to the members of the society. Accepting the wise advice of his doctor Andral, M. Bastiat was going to spend the winter in Pisa in order to improve his health which had changed because of the Paris climate and his excessive work load: at this moment he was suffering from a persistent sore throat [mal de gorge persistant], which has caused him to completely lose his voice. We hope that the brilliant author of the Sophisms and the Economic Harmonies, enjoying the better Italian climate, will be able to soon finish the second volume of the latter work, which is already well advanced. Speaking Truth to Power: “The Miller of Sans-Souci”In his writings Bastiat makes many references to literary works in order to make his political and economic points. He oft en quoted the playwright Molière as well as the more contemporary poet and playwright François Andrieux (1759–1833). Andrieux had been a member of the liberal Girondin group during the Revolution before taking up a number of academic positions under Napoléon. Bastiat was particularly interested in Andrieux’s tale “The Miller of Sans-Souci,” which was read at a public meeting of the institute on 15 Germinal an 5 (4 April 1797). The story is about a German who had the courage to speak the truth to power, namely, Frederick the Great. One might say that Bastiat is the Frenchman of his day who had the courage to speak some unpalatable truths to power, in his case the socialists and interventionists who had come to power during the revolution of 1848. Bastiat refers to this tale several times in his writings, and it is not hard to see why it became one of his favorite anecdotes.31 The liberal republican Andrieux depicts an entrepreneurial mill owner who is determined to keep his property when ordered to hand it over to the state in order to satisfy the whim of Frederick the Great, who wishes to expand the size of his palace. Not only does Frederick take the name of the mill, “Sans-Souci,” as the name for his palace, but he also wants to tear down the mill and its large rotating blades in order to have a clear view of the countryside. The mill owner refuses, saying that he does not want to sell the mill and the property to anybody, that his father is buried there, that his son was born there, and that the mill is as valuable to him as Potsdam is to the Prussian emperor. Frederick slyly replies that if he wanted to he could seize the miller’s property, as he was the “master.” The resolute and fearless miller says to Frederick’s face, “You? Take my mill? Yes, (you might) if we didn’t have judges in Berlin.” Frederick smiles at the thought that his subjects really believed that justice existed under his reign and tells his courtiers to leave the miller alone. Andrieux concludes his tale with a reflection on the nature of the power of emperors, reminding his readers that the warrior Frederick had seized Silesia and put Europe to the torch: “These are the games princes play. They respect a miller but steal a province.”32 This story is quite similar to one related by St. Augustine in Book 4 of The City of God, where a pirate who had been seized and brought before Alexander the Great asks Alexander what is the real difference between a pirate and an emperor apart from the scale of their actions? The pirate asks the emperor, “What thou meanest by seizing the whole earth; but because I do it with a petty ship, I am called a robber, whilst thou who dost it with a great fleet art styled emperor.”33 Bastiat despised the teaching of classical Latin authors to the youth of France because such authors were slave owners and warriors and thus, in Bastiat’s mind, had the moral philosophy of plunderers and conquerors. However, Bastiat was never shy about quoting from more-contemporary authors like Andrieux, who had a more-relevant moral, political, or economic story to tell about individuals who courageously stood up to the state to protect their liberty and their property. Bastiat was one of those individuals who, in the extraordinary times in which he lived, did exactly this, until he lost both his voice and then his life. David M. Hart Glossary of PersonsAli, Mehemet (1769–1849). Governor of Egypt who introduced reforms in Egypt in order to modernize the state along European lines. He nationalized the land, created a state monopoly in foreign trade and a network of war industries, and conscripted peasants to work in the cotton factories. Antonelle, Pierre Antoine, marquis d’ (1747–1817). Journalist, politician, and president of the tribunal that judged and condemned Marie Antoinette. Azara, Don Felix (1746–1811). Spanish explorer and geographer. Azy, Paul Benoît d’ (1824–98). Deputy and metallurgical industrialist. Babeuf, François (alias “Gracchus”) (1760–97). Radical author, minor state official, and agitator during the French Revolution. Babeuf’s ideas were an early form of communism (i.e., equality of ownership in all things, government distribution of goods and planning of the economy, equalization of salaries and wages, and a common state-sanctioned public education). He adopted the alias “Gracchus” in honor of the brothers who attempted to introduce land-reform legislation in ancient Rome. Babeuf survived many intrigues and court cases before finally being convicted and executed for his role in the Conspiracy of the Equals during the Directory. This movement was part of an uprising against the government’s attempt to end the system of large subsidies for the supply of food to the city of Paris. The subsidies enabled food to be sold at fixed, artificially low prices. (See also the entry for “Gracchi” in this glossary.) Bacon, Sir Francis (1561–1626). English philosopher, statesman, and author. Bacon was trained as a lawyer but made a name for himself as one of the clearest exponents of the scientific method at the dawn of the scientific revolution in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. He argued that knowledge about the natural world could be best acquired through direct observation, experiment, and the testing of a hypothesis. His best-known works include The Advancement of Learning (1605), Novum Organum (1620), and New Atlantis (1626). Barbès, Armand (1809–70). Left-wing republican radical, follower of Babeuf, and friend of the socialist revolutionary Auguste Blanqui. Barbès was part of a plot in 1839 to overthrow Louis-Philippe during the July Monarchy. He was initially condemned to death, but the intervention of Victor Hugo changed the verdict to imprisonment. Barbès was released only as a result of the outbreak of the 1848 revolution. In May 1848, soon after his release, he was engaged in another plot against the government for which he was imprisoned. He was amnestied in 1854 and went into voluntary exile. Basile. Character in Beaumarchais’ play (and later, Mozart’s opera) The Barber of Seville. Beaumarchais, Pierre-Augustin, baron de (1732–99). French playwright. Beaumarchais was a watchmaker and a court musician before he turned to writing plays. He is best known for having dared to publish Voltaire and two antiaristocratic plays of his own—The Barber of Seville, or the Useless Precaution (1775), and The Marriage of Figaro or the Follies of a Day (1784). During the American Revolution he acted on behalf of the French crown to supply guns and other weapons to the American revolutionaries. Beccaria, marquis de (Cesar Bonesana) (1738–94). Italian jurist and philosopher raised in France. His treatise on crimes and punishments, Dei delitti e delle pene (1764), which stated the principle that the accused should be considered innocent until proven guilty, was translated into many languages. Béranger, Pierre-Jean de (1780–1857). Béranger was a liberal poet and songwriter who rose to prominence during the Restoration period with his funny and clever criticisms of the monarchy and the church. His antics got him into trouble with the censors, who imprisoned him for brief periods in the 1820s. His material was much in demand in the singing societies, or “goguettes,” which sprang up during the Restoration and the July Monarchy as a way of circumventing the censorship laws and the bans on political parties. After the appearance of his second volume of songs, in 1821, Béranger was tried and convicted and sentenced to three months’ imprisonment in Sainte-Pélagie, where he wrote the “La Liberté” (Liberty) in January 1822. Another bout of imprisonment (this time nine months in La Force) followed in 1828, when his fourth volume was published. Many of the figures who came to power after the July revolution of 1830 were friends or acquaintances of Béranger’s, and it was assumed he would be granted a sinecure in recognition of his critiques of the old monarchy. However, he refused all government appointments in a stinging poem that he wrote in late 1830 called “Le Refus” (The Refusal). In April 1848, at the age of sixty-eight, Béranger was overwhelmingly elected to the Constituent Assembly, in which he sat for a brief period before resigning. Béranger mixed in liberal circles in the 1840s in Paris, when he joined Bastiat’s Free Trade Society and the Society of Political Economy. He was invited to attend the welcome dinner held by the latter to honor Bastiat’s arrival in Paris in May 1845 but was unable to attend. Bérard, Auguste (1783–1859). Politician who started his political career in 1827. Liberal deputy during the restoration and July Monarchy. He was a constitutional monarchist who played an important role in the 1830 July revolution which brought Louis Philippe to power. Billaud-Varennes, Jean (1756–1839). Member of the Convention and of the Committee of Public Safety, he was at first a supporter of Robespierre, then an opponent who contributed to his fall. Billault, Adolphe (1805–63). Deputy, lawyer, and mayor of Nantes. Billault also served in other capacities, such as undersecretary of state for agriculture and commerce under Thiers in 1840. In 1848 he was elected to the Constituent Assembly but was not reelected in 1849. He became a strong supporter of Louis-Napoléon’s bid to become emperor and served as his minister of the interior. In his political and economic views he was a follower of Saint-Simon. Blanc, Louis (1811–82). Journalist and historian who was active in the socialist movement. Blanc founded the journal La Revue du progrès and published therein articles that later became the influential pamphlet L’Organisation du travail (1839). During the 1848 revolution he became a member of the temporary government, promoted the National Workshops, and debated Adolphe Thiers on the merits of the right to work in Le Socialisme; droit au travail, réponse à M. Thiers (1848). In 1847 Blanc began work on a multivolume history of the French Revolution, Histoire de la Révolution française, two volumes of which had appeared when the February revolution of 1848 broke out. A second edition of fifteen volumes appeared in 1878. Blanqui, Jérôme Adolphe (1798–1854). Liberal economist and brother of the revolutionary socialist Auguste Blanqui. Jérôme Blanqui became director of the prestigious École supérieure de commerce de Paris and succeeded Jean-Baptiste Say to the chair of political economy at the Conservatoire national des arts et métiers. He was elected deputy representing the Gironde from 1846 to 1848. Among his many works on political economy and sociology are the Encyclopédie du commerçant (1839–41), Précis élementaire d’économie politique (1842), and Les Classes ouvrières en France (1848). Bonaparte, Napoléon (1769–1821). French general, first consul of France (1799–1804), emperor of the French (1804–15). Although Napoléon’s conquests of Europe were ultimately unsuccessful (Spain 1808; Russia 1812; Waterloo, Belgium, 1815), he dramatically altered the face of Europe economically, politically, and legally (the Civil Code of 1804). Many European countries suffered huge economic losses from Napoléon’s occupation and the looting of museums and churches. Napoléon introduced a new form of economic warfare, the “continental system” (1807), which was designed to cripple Britain by denying its goods access to the European market. It was partly in response to these and other measures that Jean-Baptiste Say wrote his Traité d’économie politique (1803). Politically, Napoléon introduced harsh censorship in order to stifle his liberal critics and weakened parliamentary institutions in order to rule in his own right. Benjamin Constant and Madame de Staël were two of his sharpest critics. See in particular the former’s Principes de politiques applicables à tous les gouvernements (1815). Constant also wrote a devastating critique of Napoléon’s militarism in De l’esprit de conquête et de l’usurpation, dans leurs rapports à la civilisation européen (1813). Bossuet, Jacques Bénigne (1627–1704). Bishop of Meaux, historian, and tutor to the dauphin (son of Louis XIV). Bossuet was renowned for his oratory and classical writing style, which was used as a model for generations of French schoolchildren. In politics he was an intransigent Gallican Catholic, an opponent of Protestantism, and a supporter of the idea of the divine right of kings. Bougainville, Louis Antoine de (1729–1814). French mathematician, navigator, and explorer. He directed an expedition around the world in 1766, related in his 1771 book Voyage autour du monde. He took part in the American War of Independence under Admiral de Grasse. Bourbon, Louis Joseph de (1736–1818). Prince de Condé from 1740 to his death. He fled France after the fall of the Bastille in 1789 and formed an army of counterrevolutionary émigrés in the German city of Koblenz between 1791 and 1801, fighting first with the Austrians and then with the English. After the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy in 1815 he returned to Paris, where he served in the royal household of Louis XVIII. Boyer-Fonfrède, Henri (1788–1841). Liberal publicist, economic journalist, and supporter of the July Monarchy. He founded L’Indicateur and wrote Questions d’économie politique (1846). Brissot de Warville, Jacques Pierre (1754–93). Member of the Girondin faction in the French Revolution and one of many Girondins who were executed during the Terror. (See also the entry for “Girondins” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms.) Brissot studied law and became a writer and a journalist. He was active in a number of liberal reformist groups, such as the abolitionist organization the Société des amis des noirs (which he founded). During the Revolution he was elected to the Legislative Assembly and then the National Convention. He opposed the execution of the king. Brutus, Lucius Junius (ca. 500 bc). Ancestor of Marcus Junius Brutus, who assassinated Julius Caesar. According to legend, Lucius led a revolt against the last king of Rome, Tarquinius, thus founding the republic of Rome. He was appointed one of the first consuls of Rome. Brutus, Marcus Junius (ca. 85–42 bc). Roman senator who had been brought up on Stoic philosophy by his uncle, Cato the Younger. Brutus participated in the assassination of Julius Caesar and because of this was regarded by many in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries as the model of the tyrannicide. Buchanan, David (1779–1848). Journalist and economist. Buchanan edited and annotated an 1814 edition of Adam Smith’s Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations. Buchanan’s notes on Smith were included in the French translation of Smith’s Wealth of Nations published by Guillaumin in 1843. Burke, Edmund (1729–97). English political philosopher whom many consider to have laid the foundations of modern conservative political thought. Although he supported the American colonies in the revolution against the British crown, he strongly opposed the French Revolution, the rise of unbridled democracy, and the growing corruption of government. Burke was a member of Parliament from 1765 to 1794 and served under Rockingham. His major works include The Sublime and the Beautiful (1757), Reflections on the Revolution in France (1790), and Thoughts and Details on Scarcity (1795). Cabet, Étienne (1788–1856). Lawyer and utopian socialist who coined the word “communism.” Between 1831 and 1834 he was a deputy in the Chamber, until he was forced into exile in Britain, where he came into contact with Robert Owen. Cabet advocated a society in which the elected representatives controlled all property that was owned in common by the community. He promoted his views in a journal called Le Populaire and in a book about a fictitious communist community called Icarie, Voyage et aventures de lord William Carisdall en Icarie (1840). In 1848 Cabet left France in order to create such a community in Texas and then at Nauvoo, Illinois, but these efforts ended in failure. The naming of his utopian community after the figure from Greek mythology Icarus, who failed in his attempt to flee the island of Crete by flying with wax wings too close to the sun, was perhaps unfortunate. Carlier, Pierre. Head of the Paris police in 1830 and 1848. Named prefect of police in 1849. Carrier, Jean-Baptiste (1756–94). French revolutionary. One of the most bloodthirsty participants in the Terror, he was guillotined in December 1794. Carteret, John, second earl of Granville (1690–1763). British ambassador to Sweden (1719), secretary of state (1721–24 and 1742–44), and lord president of the Privy Council (1751–63). Granville’s family owned one-eighth of the province of Carolina in America, which they lost during the American Revolution. Catilina, Lucius (109–62 bc). Roman patrician. His conspiracy against the Senate was denounced by Cicero. Cavaignac, Eugène (1802–57). General, deputy, minister of war, head of the executive. He crushed the workers’ uprising of June 1848. He was a candidate in the presidential election of 10 December but obtained only 1,448,000 votes against 5,434,000 for Louis-Napoléon. Charencey, Charles de (1773–1838). An army officer who became a captain in the Royal Guard. He was also an elected deputy, 1822–30, and a member of the State Council, 1828–38. Chateaubriand, François René, vicomte de (1768–1848). Novelist, philosopher, and supporter of Charles X. He was minister of foreign affairs from 28 December 1822 to 6 June 1824. A defender of freedom of the press and Greek independence, he refused to take the oath to King Louis-Philippe after 1830. He spent his retirement writing his Mémoires d’outretombe (1849–50). Chevalier, Michel (1806–87). Liberal economist, alumnus of the École polytechnique, and minister of Napoléon III. Initially a Saint-Simonist, Chevalier was imprisoned for two years (1832–33). After a trip to the United States, he published Lettres sur l’Amérique du Nord (1836), Histoire et description des voies de communications aux États-Unis et des travaux d’art qui en dependent (1840–41), and Cours d’économie politique (1845–55). He was appointed to the chair of political economy at the Collège de France in 1840 and became a senator in 1860. He was an admirer of Bastiat and Cobden and played a decisive role in the free-trade treaty of 1860 between France and England (Chevalier was the signatory for France, while Cobden was the signatory for England). Cobden, Richard (1804–65). Founder of the Anti–Corn Law League. Born in Sussex to a poor farmer’s family, Cobden was trained by an uncle to become a clerk in his warehouse. At twenty-one, he became a traveling salesman and was so successful that he was able to acquire his own business, a factory making printed cloth. Thanks to his vision of the market and his sense of organization, his company became very prosperous. Nevertheless, at the age of thirty, he left the management of the company to his brother in order to travel. He wrote some remarkable articles in which he defended two great causes: pacifism, in the form of nonintervention in foreign affairs, and free exchange. From 1839, he devoted himself exclusively to the Anti–Corn Law League and was elected as member of Parliament for Stockport in 1841. Toward the end of the 1850s, he was asked by the government to negotiate a free-trade treaty with France. His French counterpart was Michel Chevalier, a minister of Napoléon III and a friend and admirer of Bastiat. The treaty (the Cobden–Chevalier Treaty) was signed by Cobden and Chevalier in 1860. Comte, Charles (1782–1837). Lawyer, liberal critic of Napoléon and then of the restored monarchy, son-in-law of Jean-Baptiste Say. One of the leading liberal theorists before the 1848 revolution, he founded, with Charles Dunoyer, the journal Le Censeur in 1814 and Le Censeur européen in 1817 and was prosecuted many times for challenging the press censorship laws and criticizing the government. He encountered the ideas of Say in 1817 and discussed them at length in Le Censeur européen. After having spent some time in prison he escaped to Switzerland, where he was offered the Chair of Natural Law at the University of Lausanne before he was obliged to move to England. In 1826 he published the first part of his magnum opus, the four-volume Traité de législation, which very much influenced the thought of Bastiat, and in 1834 he published the second part, Traité de la propriété. Comte was secretary of the Académie des sciences morales et politiques and was elected a deputy representing La Sarthe after the 1830 revolution. Condé, prince de. (See the entry for “Bourbon, Louis Joseph de,” in this glossary.) Condillac, Étienne Bonnot, abbé de (1714–80). Priest, philosopher, economist, and member of the Académie française. Condillac was an advocate of the ideas of John Locke and a friend of the encyclopedist Denis Diderot. In his Traité des sensations (1754), Condillac claims that all attributes of the mind, such as judgment, reason, and even will, derive from sensations. His book Le Commerce et le gouvernement, considérés relativement l’un à l’autre (1776) appeared in the same year as Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations. Considérant, Victor Prosper (1808–93). Follower of the socialist Fourier and advocate of the “right to work,” a movement to which Bastiat was greatly opposed. Considérant was author of Principes du socialisme: Manifeste de la démocratie au XIXe siècle (1847) and Théorie du droit de propriété et du droit au travail (1845). Coquelin, Charles (1802–52). One of the leading figures in the political economy movement (Les Économistes) in Paris before his untimely death. Coquelin was selected by the publisher Guillaumin to edit the prestigious and voluminous Dictionnaire de l’économie politique (1852) because of his erudition and near-photographic memory. He also wrote dozens of articles for the Dictionnaire. Coquelin was very active in the free-trade movement, becoming secretary of the Association pour la liberté des échanges, writing articles for Bastiat’s journal Le Libre-échange, and later taking over the editor’s role when Bastiat had to resign because of ill health. Coquelin also wrote dozens of articles and book reviews for Le Journal des économistes. During the Revolution of 1848 Coquelin was active in forming a debating club, Le Club de la liberté du travail (The Club for Free Labor), which took on the socialists before the club was violently broken up by opponents. Coquelin, along with Bastiat, Fonteyraud, Garnier, and Molinari, started a small revolutionary magazine, Jacques Bonhomme, which was written to appeal to ordinary people. Unfortunately it lasted only a few weeks in June before it, too, was forced to close. Coquelin wrote about transport, the linen industry, the law governing corporations, money, credit, and banking (especially free banking, of which he was probably the first serious advocate). Corneille, Pierre (1606–84). Playwright who, along with Molière and Racine, helped define French classical tragedy in the seventeenth century. In some of his tragedies, such as Horace (1640), he exalted the virtues of idealized Roman heroes. Cornelia Africana (190–100 bc). Daughter of Scipio Africanus and mother of Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus and Gaius Sempronius Gracchus. Cornier, Paul-Louis (1772–1825). Author of pamphlets in which he harassed the government of Louis XVIII, who ruled 1814–24. Crassus, Marcus Licinius (115–53 bc). Wealthy Roman consul and member of the first triumvirate with Pompey and Caesar. Crémieux, Adolphe (1796–1880). Lawyer active in freemason and Jewish circles. He was appointed minister of justice in the new republican government, which formed after the revolution of 1848. Crémieux was first elected deputy in 1841 and served until his resignation in 1850 because of his opposition to Louis-Napoléon. He did not return to politics until the 1870 revolution, when he again served as minister of justice. Curiace. Character in Corneille’s play Horace. Decius, Gaius Messius Quintus (201–51). Emperor of Rome. Decius was notorious for attempting to increase the power of the Roman state by strengthening the military and, most significantly, for persecuting Christians by forcing them to sacrifice to Roman deities. Destutt de Tracy, Antoine (1754–1836). One of the leading intellectuals of the 1790s and early 1800s and a member of the ideologues (a philosophical movement not unlike the objectivists, who professed that the origin of ideas was material, not spiritual). In his writings on Montesquieu, Tracy defended the institutions of the American republic, and in his writings on political economy he defended laissez-faire. During the French Revolution he joined the third estate and renounced his aristocratic title. During the Terror he was arrested and nearly executed. Tracy continued agitating for liberal reforms as a senator during Napoléon’s regime. One of his most influential works was the four-volume Éléments d’idéologie (first published in 1801–15) (Tracy coined the term ideology). Volume four of Éléments d’idéologie, titled Traité de la volunté, was translated by Thomas Jefferson and appeared in English under the title Treatise of Political Economy in 1817. It was then republished in France in 1823 under the same title, Traité d’économie politique. Tracy also wrote Commentaire sur l’ésprit des lois (1819), which Thomas Jefferson translated and brought to the United States. Diodorus (Diodorus Siculus) (first century bc). Greek historian who wrote a universal history of the Greeks from the early tribes of Hellas to Alexander the Great and the rise of Julius Caesar. Dunoyer, Barthélémy-Pierre-Joseph-Charles (1786–1862). Dunoyer was a journalist; an academic (a professor of political economy); a politician; the author of numerous works on politics, political economy, and history; a founding member of the Société d’économie politique (1842); and a key figure in the French classical liberal movement of the first half of the nineteenth century, along with Jean-Baptiste Say, Benjamin Constant, Charles Comte, Augustin Thierry, and Alexis de Tocqueville. He collaborated with Comte on the journals Le Censeur and Le Censeur européen during the end of the Napoleonic empire and the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy. Dunoyer (and Comte) combined the political liberalism of Constant (constitutional limits on the power of the state, representative government); the economic liberalism of Say (laissez-faire, free trade); and the sociological approach to history of Thierry, Constant, and Say (class analysis and a theory of historical evolution of society through stages culminating in the laissez-faire market society of “industry”). His major works include L’Industrie et la morale considérées dans leurs rapports avec la liberté (1825), Nouveau traité d’économie sociale (1830), and his three-volume magnum opus De la liberté du travail (1845). After the revolution of 1830 Dunoyer was appointed a member of the Académie des sciences morales et politiques, worked as a government official (he was prefect of L’Allier and La Somme), and eventually became a member of the Council of State in 1837. He resigned his government posts in protest against the coup d’état of Louis-Napoléon in 1851. He died while writing a critique of the authoritarian Second Empire; the work was completed and published by his son Anatole in 1864. Dupin, Charles (1784–1873). Liberal deputy. Dupin was also an alumnus of the École polytechnique, a naval engineer, and a professor of mechanics at the Conservatoire national des arts et métiers, where he taught courses for working people. He is one of the founders of mathematical economics and the statistical office (Bureau de France). Enfantin, Barthélemy Prosper (1796–1864). Wine merchant, banker, and manager of the Paris–Lyon railroad. In the early 1840s he was appointed to the Scientific Commission of Algeria, which looked into matters concerning the French colonization of that country. His earliest political activity was to join the nationalist and liberal secret society, the Carbonari (the “charcoal burners”), which included La Fayette and Lord Byron among its members. Enfantin came into contact with the ideas of Saint-Simon and, with Olinde Rodrigues and Bazard, founded the utopian socialist school of the Saint-Simonians, which advocated a form of socialism in which industrial society would be managed by an elite of scientists and engineers. By the time of the July revolution their “doctrine” had become a veritable “religion,” with Enfantin as one of its “high priests.” (See also the entry for “Saint-Simon, Claude Henri de Rouvroy, comte de,” in this glossary.) Erskine, Thomas, first baron Erskine (1750–1823). Lawyer and Whig member of Parliament who served as lord chancellor of Great Britain 1806–7. He made a name for himself in the 1780s and 1790s by defending radical authors such as Thomas Paine against charges of libel. Estrada, Antonio Florez (1769–1853). Spanish jurist, economist, and liberal constitutionalist politician. His best-known work is a Tratado de economica politica (1828). Upon Bastiat’s death in 1850 Estrada was elected a corresponding member of the Institute to fill Bastiat’s vacancy. Falloux du Coudray, Frédéric Alfred Pierre, vicomte de (1811–86). Deputy, minister of education (20 December 1848 to 31 October 1849), and author of a law on freedom of education. Faucher, Léon (1803–54). Journalist, writer, deputy for the Marne, and twice appointed minister of the interior. Faucher became an active journalist during the July Monarchy, writing for Le Constitutionnel and Le Courrier français. He was one of the editors of La Revue des deux mondes and Le Journal des économistes. Faucher was appointed to the Académie des sciences morales et politiques in 1849 and was active in the Association pour la liberté des échanges. He wrote on prison reform, gold and silver currency, socialism, and taxation. One of his better-known works is Études sur l’Angleterre (1856). Fénelon (François de Salignac de la Motte-Fénelon) (1651–1715). Archbishop of Cambrai and tutor to the young duke of Burgundy, the grandson of Louis XIV. After the revocation of the Edict of Nantes (which had granted toleration for Protestants in France), Fénelon was one of several high-ranking clergy sent to convert recalcitrant Protestants to Catholicism. He wrote a collection called Dialogue des morts et fables (1700), and Les Aventures de Télémaque (1699), which was a thinly veiled satire of the reign of Louis XIV and a critique of the notion of the divine right of kings. Figaro. Character in Beaumarchais’ play The Barber of Seville and later in his play The Marriage of Figaro (both later became operas by Rossini and Mozart, respectively). Fontenay, Roger-Anne-Paul-Gabriel de (1809–91). Member of the Société d’économie politique and an ally of Bastiat in their debates in the Société on the nature of rent. Fontenay worked with Prosper Paillottet in editing the Œeuvres complètes of Bastiat and was a regular contributor to Le Journal des économistes right up to his death. In a work published soon after Bastiat’s death in 1850, Du revenu foncier (1854), Fontenay decribes himself and Bastiat as forming a distinct “French school of political economy,” tracing its roots back to Jean-Baptiste Say and including Antoine Destutt de Tracy, Charles Comte, and especially Charles Dunoyer, in contrast with the “English school” of Adam Smith, Thomas Malthus, and David Ricardo. The main difference between the two schools was on the issue of rent from land: Bastiat and Fontenay denied that there was any special “gift of nature” that made up the rents from land, instead arguing that all returns on investments (whether capital, interest, or rent) were the result of services provided by producers to consumers. Fonteyraud, Henri Alcide (1822–49). Fonteyraud was born in Mauritius and became professor of history, geography, and political economy at the École supérieure de commerce de Paris. He was a member of the Société d’économie politique and one of the founders of the Association pour la liberté des échanges. Because of his knowledge of English he went to England in 1845 to study at first hand the progress of the Anti–Corn Law League. During the revolution of 1848, he campaigned against socialist ideas with his activity in the Club de la liberté du travail and, along with Bastiat, Coquelin, and Molinari, by writing and handing out in the streets of Paris copies of the broadside pamphlet Jacques Bonhomme. Sadly, he died very young during the cholera epidemic of 1849. He wrote articles in La Revue britannique and Le Journal des économistes, and he edited and annotated the works of Ricardo in the multivolume Collection des principaux économistes. His collected works were published posthumously as Mélanges d’économie politique, edited by J. Garnier (1853). Fould, Achille (1800–1867). Banker and deputy who represented the département s of Les Hautes-Pyrénées in 1842 and La Seine in 1849. He was close to Louis-Napoléon, lending him money before he became emperor, and then serving as minister of finance, first during the Second Republic and then under the Second Empire (1849–67). Fould was an important part of the imperial household, serving as an adviser to the emperor, especially on economic matters. He was an ardent free trader but was close to the Saint–Simonians on matters of banking. (For the Saint-Simonians, see the entry for “Saint-Simon, Claude Henri de Rouvroy, comte de,” in this glossary.) Fourier, François-Marie Charles (1772–1837). Socialist and founder of the phalansterian school (Fourierism). Fourierism consisted of a utopian, communistic system for the reorganization of society. The population was to be grouped in “phalansteries” of about eighteen hundred persons, who would live together as one family and hold property in common. Fourier’s main works include Le Nouveau monde industriel et sociétaire (1829) and La Fausse industrie morcelée répugnante et mensongère et l’antidote, l’industrie naturelle, combinée, attrayante, véridique donnant quadruple produit (1835–36). Many of Fourier’s ideas appeared in his journal Phalanstère, ou la réforme industrielle, which ran from 1832 to 1834. Fox, Charles James (1749–1806). Leading Whig political leader in the last decades of the eighteenth century in England. He supported parliamentary reform, civil and religious liberty, the American and French revolutions, and the abolition of slavery. He had a very public split with Edmund Burke over Britain’s war against the French Republic, with Fox advocating a negotiated peace and settlement. Fox expressed his strong criticism at the loss of civil liberties in Britain as a result of the war against the French Republic, for example, the suspension of habeas corpus in 1794. In one of his last major speeches in the House of Commons shortly before his death he spoke in support of the bill to abolish the slave trade. Fox, Henry, Lord Holland (1705–74). Whig member of Parliament, Secretaty of War (1746–55), and father of Charles James Fox. Frayssinous, Denis-Antoine-Luc, comte de (1765–1841). Strong defender of the Catholic Church in France until he was forced into retirement by Napoléon’s arrest of the pope and his conquest of Rome in 1809. He returned to Paris with the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy after 1815, serving as court preacher to King Louis XVIII. During the restoration he was made a bishop, elected to the Académie française, and created a peer of France. With the coming to power of King Charles X in 1824, Frayssinous became minister of education and religious worship (1824–28). After the July revolution of 1830 he retired to Rome. He was noted for his work Les vrais principes de l’église gallicane sur le gouvernement ecclésiastique (1818), written in support of the French state’s concordat with the pope (1817). Fulchiron, Jean-Claude (1774–1859). Poet and dramatist before becoming a deputy representing the Rhône. He was first elected to office in 1831 during the July Monarchy and served in the Chamber of Deputies until he was made a peer in 1845. His best-known work is his three-volume set of books about his travels in Italy, Voyages dans l’Italie méridionale (1840–42). Garnier, Joseph (1813–81). Professor, journalist, politician, and activist for free trade and peace. He arrived in Paris in 1830 and came under the influence of Adolphe Blanqui, who introduced him to economics and who eventually became his father-in-law. Garnier was a pupil, professor, and then director of the École supérieure de commerce de Paris, before being appointed the first professor of political economy at the École des ponts et chaussées in 1846. Garnier played a central role in the burgeoning free-market school of thought in the 1840s in Paris. He was one of the founders of the Association pour la liberté des échanges and the chief editor of its journal, Libre-échange; he was active in the Congrès de la paix; he was one of the founders, along with Guillaumin, of Le Journal des économistes, of which he became chief editor in 1846; he was one of the founders of the Société d’économie politique and was its perpetual secretary; and he was one of the founders of the 1848 liberal broadsheet Jacques Bonhomme. Garnier was acknowledged for his considerable achievements by being nominated to join the Académie des sciences morales et politiques in 1873 and to become a senator in 1876. He was the author of numerous books and articles, among which are Introduction à l’étude de l’économie politique (1843); Richard Cobden, les ligueurs et la ligue (1846); and Congrès des amis de la paix universelle réunis à Paris en 1849 (1850). He edited Malthus’s Essai sur le principe de population (1845); Du principe de population (1857); and Traité d’économie politique sociale ou industrielle (1863). Gauguier, Joseph (1793–1865). Soldier in Napoléon’s army, an industrialist, and deputy (1831–42). He unsuccessfully proposed parliamentary reform in 1832 and 1834. Genovesi, Antonio (1712–69). Italian priest, philosopher, and economist. He was appointed to the first chair of political economy at the University of Naples in 1754 and was a supporter of free trade. His main book in economics is Lezzioni di commercio e di economica civile (1705). Girardin, Saint-Marc (1801–73). Literary critic, professor of French poetry at the Sorbonne, and deputy. He served as a councillor of state and was minister of education in 1848. Goudchaux, Michel (1797–1862). Banker and opponent of the July Monarchy, during which time he was the chief financial writer for the opposition journal Le National. After the 1848 revolution he was elected deputy representing the département of La Seine in the National Assembly. He also served as minister of finance in General Cavaignac’s government, where he fought with Thiers over tax policy in the finance committee. Goudchaux’s political career came to an end in 1849, when he was not elected to the Legislative Assembly. During the Second Empire Goudchaux raised money to help republicans who had been proscribed by Napoléon III. Gracchi. Tiberius Gracchus (162–133 bc) and Gaius Gracchus (154–121 bc). Brothers and Roman patricians who both held the office of tribune at different times. They attempted to introduce significant land reform in ancient Rome. In response to an economic crisis they proposed to limit the size of the land holdings of aristocratic owners and distribute parcels of land to the poor. They failed to achieve this and were crushed by force. They have been seen by socialists as precursors of the modern socialist movement. Babeuf even adopted the pseudonym “Gracchus” in homage to them. Guillaumin, Gilbert-Urbain (1801–64). French editor and founder of his own publishing firm in 1835. (For a fuller account of Guillaumin’s life, see “Bastiat’s Political Writings: Anecdotes and Reflections,” pp. 404–5.) Guizot, François (1787–1874). Academic and politician. Guizot served as minister of the interior, then minister of education (1832–37), ambassador to England in 1840, foreign minister, and prime minister, becoming in practice the leader of the government from 1840 to 1848. He was born to a Protestant family in Nîmes, and his father was guillotined during the Terror. As a law student in Paris the young Guizot was a vocal opponent of the Napoleonic empire. After the restoration of the monarchy, Guizot was part of the Doctrinaires, a group of conservative and moderate liberals. He was professor of history at the Sorbonne from 1812 to 1830, publishing Essai sur l’histoire de France (1824), Histoire de la Révolution d’Angleterre (1826–27), Histoire générale de la civilisation en Europe (1828), and Histoire de la civilisation en France (1829–32). He was elected deputy in 1829 and became very active in French politics after the 1830 revolution, supporting constitutional monarchy and a limited franchise. During his political life, he promoted peace abroad and liberal conservatism at home, but his regime, weakened by corruption and economic difficulties, collapsed with the monarchy in 1848. He retired to Normandy to spend the rest of his days writing history and his memoirs such as Histoire parlementaire de France (1863–64) and Histoire des origines du gouvernement représentif en Europe (1851). Harrington, James (1611–77). Leading English republican political theorist of the seventeenth century. His views on voting by ballot and the rotation of office were considered radical in his day. Harrington’s work was influential in the eighteenth century as Jefferson and the founding fathers discovered in his writings on an independent gentry and the right to bear arms a useful antidote to the claims of the British monarchy. His most famous work is The Commonwealth of Oceana (1656). Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus) (65–8 bc). One of the leading Latin poets during the rule of Augustus. He was the son of a freed slave and served in the army of Brutus (one of the assassins of Caesar), but was reduced to poverty when his family farm was confiscated. His poetry, especially his odes, had enormous influence in the Renaissance, on Shakespeare, and in the eighteenth century. A well-known line from one of his odes is “dulce et decorum est pro patria mori” (how sweet and fitting it is to die for one’s country). Hugo, Victor (1802–89). Poet, novelist, dramatist, and politician who wrote some of the most important literary works of nineteenth-century France. His works include the novels Les Misérables (1862) and The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1831). Hugo was a conservative Catholic in his youth but had become more liberal minded by the time he was elected deputy (1848–50). During the 1848 revolution, he became a republican and a free thinker, which contributed to his forced exile after the coup d’état of Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte (2 December 1851). Hugo went into exile in Jersey and then Guernsey, where he remained until the 1870 revolution. He could have returned to France after an amnesty in 1859 but chose to remain in Guernsey, realizing that if he returned he would have to temper his criticisms of the emperor. Soon after his return to Paris he was elected to the National Assembly and then the Senate. Hume, Joseph (1777–1855). Member of Parliament elected in 1812. Leader of the liberal reformists, he played a major role in the repeal of laws forbidding machinery export and emigration and in the emancipation of Catholics. Hus, Jan (1370–1415). Czech Catholic priest and dean of the Prague faculty of theology. A follower of Luther, he was an ardent supporter of church reform. He was burned as a heretic. Huskisson, William (1770–1830). British member of Parliament who served from 1796 to 1830. He rose to the post of secretary to the treasury 1804–9 and later president of the Board of Trade (1823–27). Huskisson introduced a number of liberal reforms, including the reformation of the Navigation Act, a reduction in duties on manufactured goods, and the repeal of some quarantine duties. As president of the Board of Trade he played an important role in persuading British merchants to support a policy of free trade. Lacaze, Joseph Bernard (1798–1874). Lawyer who studied and practiced in the United States before returning to France. He was elected deputy for the Hautes-Pyrénées (1848–51) where he voted with the right. He was a senator in the Second Empire. Laffite, Jacques (1767–1844). Banker and entrepreneur, born in Bayonne. He was elected deputy in 1816 and was prime minister from 1831 until March 1832. He was a friend of the Bastiat family. Lamartine, Alphonse de (1790–1869). Poet and statesman. As an immensely popular romantic poet, he used his talent to promote liberal ideas. He was a member of the provisional government and minister of foreign affairs in June 1848. After he lost the presidential elections of December 1848 against Louis-Napoléon, he retired from political life and went back to writing. Lamennais, Félicité, abbé de (1782–1854). Priest, deputy, and journalist. Known for his four-volume Essai sur l’indifférence en matière de religion (1821–23), he was a strong critic of the Gallican Church and an ardent defender of the pope. La Sagra, Ramon (1798–1871). La Sagra studied natural history and became the director of the Botanical Gardens in Cuba. He became interested in political economy in 1840 when he lectured at the Ateneo de Madrid. La Sagra was an advocate of the ideas of Proudhon, supporting his idea of a people’s bank with a book called Banque du peuple (1849). Ledru-Rollin, Alexandre (1790–1874). Lawyer, deputy (1841–49), owner of the newspaper La Réforme, minister of the interior of the provisional government of February 1848, and then member of the executive commission. He had to yield his powers to General Cavaignac in June 1848. In 1849 he organized a demonstration against the foreign policy of Louis-Napoléon, the new president of the Republic. He was exiled and came back to France only in 1870. Le Peletier de Saint-Fargeau, Louis-Michel (1760–93). Deputy to the Constituent Assembly, of which he became the president in 1790. A nobleman sharing revolutionary ideas, he was assassinated for having voted for the death of Louis XVI. Leroux, Pierre (1798–1871). Prominent member of the Saint-Simonian group of socialists and founder of Le Globe, a review of the Saint-Simonists. Like Bastiat, he was a journalist during the 1840s and was elected to the Constituent Assembly in 1848 and to the Legislative Assembly in 1849. The most developed exposition of his ideas can be found in De l’humanité (1840) and also in De la ploutocratie, ou, Du gouvernement des riches (1848). Louis-Philippe, duc d’Orléans (1773–1850). Last French king during the July Monarchy (1830–48), abdicating on 24 February 1848. He served in the French army before going into exile in 1793. His exile lasted until 1815, when he was able to return to France under the restoration of the monarchy (King Louis XVIII was his cousin). During his exile he visited Switzerland, Scandinavia, the United States, and Cuba before settling in England. When the July revolution overthrew King Charles X in 1830, Louis-Philippe was proclaimed the new “king of the French.” Initially, he enjoyed considerable support from the middle class for his liberal policies, but he became increasingly conservative and was ousted in the February 1848 revolution. Luscinus, Gaius Fabricius. Elected consul 282 bc–278 bc Lycurgus of Sparta (8th century bc). Mythical Greek legislator to whom were attributed the severe laws of Sparta. These laws enshrined the virtues of martial order, simplicity of family and personal life, and shared communal living. His counterpart in Athens was Solon. (See the entry for “Solon” in this glossary.) In the eighteenth century it was common among social theorists to regard Athens and Sparta as polar opposites, with Athens representing commerce and the rule of law and Sparta representing war and authoritarianism. Mably, Gabriel Bonnot, abbé de (1709–95). Elder brother of Condillac and an enormously popular writer on political, legal, and economic matters in his own right. He trained as a Jesuit and briefly entered religious orders. Mably was an admirer of Plato and Sparta, both, in his opinion, models for political and economic institutions. In economics, Mably was an advocate for ending private property and for the redistribution of property by the state in order to achieve equal ownership for all; thus he may be considered an early communist thinker. Mably was best known for his work Entretiens de Phocion, sur le rapport de la morale avec la politique (1763); and the Observations sur le gouvernement et les lois des États-unis d’Amérique (1784). Maret, Hugues-Bernard, duc de Bassano (1763–1839). Served as an ambassador during the Revolution and was minister of foreign affairs under Napoléon. McCulloch, John Ramsay (1789–1864). Leader of the Ricardian school following the death of Ricardo. He was a pioneer in the collection of economic statistics and was the first professor of political economy at the University of London in 1828. He wrote The Principles of Political Economy: With a Sketch of the Rise and Progress of the Science. Melun, Armand, vicomte de (1807–77). Politician, philanthropist, and Catholic social reformer. He was elected deputy in 1843 and took up the cause of improving the social condition of workers by founding the Société d’économie charitable and the journal Les Annales de la charité (1847). Although he was instrumental in establishing private charities for his cause, he also was an active proponent of state intervention, because only the state, in his view, “was in a position to reach all miseries.” Mentor. Tutor of Telemachus. Mimerel de Roubaix, Pierre (1786–1872). Textile manufacturer and politician who was a vigorous advocate of protectionism. He was elected deputy in 1849; appointed by Napoléon III to the Advisory Council and to the General Council of Agriculture, Industry, and Trade; and named senator in 1852. He founded the protariff Association for the Defense of Domestic Industry, whose journal was Le Moniteur industriel. He also headed a businessmen’s association called the Mimerel Committee, which was a focus for Bastiat’s criticisms of protectionism. It was the Mimerel Committee that called for the firing of free-market professors of political economy and for the abolition of their chairs. The committee later moderated its demands and called for the equal teaching of protectionist and free-trade views. Minos. Son of Zeus and Europa and the king of Crete in Greek mythology. After his death he became a judge of the dead in Hades and is sometimes depicted serving this function in later literary works, such as those by Virgil and Dante. Mirabeau, Gabriel Honoré Riqueti, comte de (1749–91). Eldest son of the economist Victor Riqueti. He was a soldier as well as a diplomat, journalist, and author who spent time in prison or in exile. During the French Revolution he became a noted orator and was elected to the Estates General in 1789 representing Aix and Marseilles. In his political views he was an advocate of constitutional monarchy along the lines of Great Britain. He is noted for his Essai sur le despotisme (1776) and several works on banking and foreign exchange. Molé, Louis Mathieu, comte de (1781–1855). Former prefect and minister of justice under Napoléon and under Louis XVIII. Rallying to Louis-Philippe, he was head of the government and minister of foreign affairs in 1836. Accused by some deputies of being little more than a spokesman for the king, he resigned in 1839 and led a moderate opposition against Guizot. A deputy in 1848 and 1849, he quit political life after the coup of 1851. Molinari, Gustave de (1819–1912). Born in Belgium but spent most of his working life in Paris, where he became the leading representative of the laissez-faire school of classical liberalism in France in the second half of the nineteenth century. His liberalism was based on the theory of natural rights (especially the right to property and individual liberty), and he advocated complete laissez-faire in economic policy and an ultraminimal state in politics. In the 1840s he joined the Société d’économie politique and was active in the Association pour la liberté des échanges. During the 1848 revolution he vigorously opposed the rise of socialism and published shortly thereafter two rigorous defenses of individual liberty in which he pushed to its ultimate limits his opposition to all state intervention in the economy, including the state’s monopoly of security. During the 1850s he contributed a number of significant articles on free trade, peace, colonization, and slavery to the Dictionnaire de l’économie politique (1852–53) before going into exile in his native Belgium to escape the authoritarian regime of Napoléon III. He became a professor of political economy at the Musée royale de l’industrie belge and published a significant treatise on political economy (Cours d’économie politique, 1855) and a number of articles opposing state education. In the 1860s Molinari returned to Paris to work on Le Journal des debats, becoming editor from 1871 to 1876. Toward the end of his long life, Molinari was appointed editor of the leading journal of political economy in France, Le Journal des économistes (1881–1909). Molinari’s more important works include Les Soirées de la rue Saint-Lazare (1849), L’Évolution économique du dixneuvième siècle: Théorie du progrès (1880), and L’Évolution politique et la Révolution (1884). Montaigne, Michel Eyquem de (1533–92). One of the best-known and most-admired writers of the Renaissance. His Essays (first published in 1580) were a thoughtful meditation on human nature in the form of personal anecdotes infused with deep philosophical reflections. Montaigne was brought up with Latin as his first language and went on to study law, serving in the Bordeaux parliament from 1557 to 1570 and then as mayor of Bordeaux from 1581 to 1585. He was a close friend of Étienne de la Boétie, who wrote Discours de la servitude volontaire (1576), in which he explores why the majority too oft en willingly capitulates to the demands of a tiny ruling minority. In the religious controversies of his day Montaigne was a moderate Catholic. Montalembert, Charles Forbes, comte de (1810–70). French publicist and historian. Montalembert was born and educated in England before moving to France. In 1830 he joined forces with Lamennais to write for the journal L’Avenir and to promote liberal Catholicism, but he split with Lamennais after 1834; when the pope condemned liberal Catholicism, Montalembert chose to submit to the will of the pope on this issue. He supported a free, Catholic alternative to the state monopoly of education and was arrested and fined for his activities. During the 1848 revolution he was elected to the Constituent Assembly as a moderate republican. He is known for his work Des devoirs des catholiques sur la question de la liberté de l’enseignement (1843). Montesquieu, Charles Louis de Secondat, baron de (1689–1755). One of the most influential legal theorists and political philosophers of the eighteenth century. He trained as a lawyer and practiced in Bordeaux before going to Paris, where he attended an important enlightened salon. His ideas about the separation of powers and checks on the power of the executive had a profound impact on the architects of the American constitution. His most influential works are L’Esprit des lois (1748), Les Lettres persanes (1721), and Considérations sur les causes de la grandeur des Romains et de leur décadence (1732). More, Sir Thomas (1478–1535). English lawyer, privy councillor, and speaker of the House of Parliament before he ran afoul of the Anglican Church by refusing to acknowledge Henry VIII as the sole head of the church. He was beheaded for refusing to compromise his Catholic beliefs. He is famous for his political work Utopia (1516), in which there was no private property, widespread use of slaves, and an internal passport required for travel. See also “Classical Liberal vs Socialist Utopias,” in “Bastiat’s Political Writings: Anecdotes and Reflections,” pp. 412–13. Morelly (ca. 1717–78). Novelist and political philosopher. In his Code de la nature, ou le véritable esprit des lois, de tout temps négligé ou méconnu (1755), he advocated a form of utopianism in which society was ruled by an enlightened despot, private property had been abolished, and marriage and police were no longer required in a state of absolute equality. He influenced the thinking of Babeuf, Saint-Simon, and Marx. Morin, Étienne-François-Théodore (b. 1814). Textile manufacturer and the elected representative for the département of La Drôme in the Constituent Assembly in 1848 and then in the Legislative Assembly in 1849. He published many works on jurisprudence and political economy, being best known for his Essai sur l’organisation du travail et l’avenir des classes laborieuses (1845). Morin was a staunch defender of freedom of association for both manufacturers and the workers. He believed that such association would promote both their interests, provided that no one used any coercion or violence. Mortimer-Ternaux, Louis (1808–72). Jurist and member of the Council of State, a French institution giving advice on draft bills and acting as a court of final appeal on administrative matters. He was a deputy from 1842 until Louis-Napoléon’s coup d’état in 1857. Nadaud, Martin (1815–98). Stonemason and follower of the socialist Étienne Cabet. He was elected deputy in 1849, during the 1848 revolution, but fled to Britain after Louis-Napoléon’s coup d’état of 2 December 1851. Nadaud was again elected deputy as a moderate republican in 1876 during the Third Republic. Necker, Jacques (1732–1804). Swiss-born banker and politician who served as the minister of finance under Louis XVI just before the French Revolution broke out. His private financial activities were intertwined with the French state when he served as a director of the monopolistic French East India Company and made loans to the French state. In 1775 he wrote a critique of Turgot’s free-trade policies in L’Essai sur la législation et le commerce des grains. In 1776 he was appointed director general of French finances until his dismissal in 1781. He served again in this position from 1788 to 1790. As minister of finance he tried to reform the French taxation system by broadening its base and removing some of its worst inequalities. Needless to say, in this he largely failed. His daughter, Germaine Necker (de Staël), became a famous novelist and historian of the French Revolution. North, Frederick, second earl of Guilford (1732–93). Member of Parliament, 1754 to 1790; chancellor of the exchequer, 1767 to 1782; and prime minister during most of the period of the American War of Independence. Numa Pompilius (ca. 715–672 bc). Legendary king of Rome. Inspired by the nymph Egeria, he organized Roman religious institutions. Odier, Antoine (1766–1853). Swiss-born banker and textile manufacturer who came to Paris to play a part in the French Revolution, siding with the liberal Girondin group. He was president of the Chamber of Commerce of Paris, deputy (1827–34), and eventually a peer of France (1837). Bastiat crossed swords with him because of his membership in the protectionist Association for the Defense of Domestic Industry. Owen, Robert (1771–1858). Successful manufacturer, philanthropist, and socialist theoretician. He made his fortune with a cotton mill in New Lanark in Manchester. The reforms he introduced in his factory became the model for creating “villages of cooperation,” which culminated in the establishment of a model community, New Harmony, in Indiana, in 1824. Owen spent his own money in order to improve the fate of his workers and based his model community on the ideas of mutual cooperation, community of property, consumer cooperatives, and trade unions. His best-known works are A New View of Society (1813) and Report to the County of Lanark of a Plan for Relieving Public Distress (1821). Paillottet, Prosper (1804–78). Editor of Les Œuvres complètes de Frédéric Bastiat and friend of Bastiat’s. See also “Bastiat’s Editor and Executor, Prosper Paillottet (1804–78),” in “Bastiat’s Political Writings: Anecdotes and Reflections,” pp. 405–7. Parisis, Pierre Louis (1795–1865). Bishop of Langres and deputy. After 1850, he became a member of the Conseil Supérieur de l’Instruction. Pascal, Blaise (1623–62). French mathematician and philosopher whose best-known work, Pensées, appeared only after his death. Passy, Frédéric (1822–1912). Nephew of Hippolyte Passy, who was cofounder of the Société d’ économie politique (1842) and wrote numerous articles in Le Journal des économistes. Frédéric was a supporter of free trade and the ideas of Richard Cobden and Bastiat. Passy was a cabinet minister and then professor of political economy at Montpellier. He wrote an introduction to one of the Guillaumin editions of the works of Bastiat. He was active in the French peace movement and helped found the Ligue internationale et permanente de la paix. For his efforts he received the first Nobel Peace Prize (1901, with Henri Dunant, one of the founders of the Red Cross). He wrote many books on economics and peace, including Notice biographique sur Frédéric Bastiat (1857) and Pour la paix: notes et documents (1909). Peel, Sir Robert (1788–1850). Served as Home Secretary under the Duke of Wellington (1822–27) and was prime minister twice (1834–35, 1841–46). He is best known for creating the Metropolitan Police Force in London, the Factory Act of 1844 which regulated the working hours of women and children in the factories, and the repeal of the Corn Laws in May 1846. The latter inspired Bastiat to lobby for similar economic reforms in France. Pelham-Holles, Thomas, first duke of Newcastle (1693–1768). Secretary of state from 1724 to 1754 and prime minister from 1754 to 1756 and 1757 to 1762. His brother, Henry Pelham (1696–1754), was a member of Parliament and succeeded Walpole as chancellor of the exchequer in 1743. PÉtetin, Anselme (1807–73). Moderate republican lawyer, journalist, and director of the Imperial (or Royal) Press 1850–60. He was appointed the Prefect of Haute-Savoiè in 1860. Pitt, William (the Elder), first earl of Chatham (1708–78). Whig member of Parliament from 1735 to 1766, leader of the House of Commons from 1756 to 1761, prime minister from 1766 to 1768, and earl of Chatham from 1766 to 1778. He was a popular figure for his propriety in managing funds when he was paymaster of the armed forces and for prosecuting the war against Spain and France during the Seven Years’ War. He successfully conducted a two-front war on the continent, seized several French colonies in Africa and the Carribean, and defeated the French in North America. Despite the French defeat, Britain was left with significant debt, which had repercussions later during the War of Independence in the American colonies. Pitt, William (the Younger) (1759–1806). Son of William Pitt the Elder. He became a member of Parliament in 1781, chancellor of the exchequer in 1782, and prime minister from 1783 to 1801 and from 1804 to 1806. Pitt was a Tory and a strong opponent of the French Revolution. Proudhon, Pierre Joseph (1809–65). Political theorist, considered to be the father of anarchism. Proudhon spent many years as a printer and published many pamphlets on social and economic issues, oft en running afoul of the censors. He was elected to the Constituent Assembly in 1848 representing La Seine. In 1848 he became editor in chief of a number of periodicals, such as Le Peuple and La Voix du peuple, which got him into trouble again with the censors and for which he spent three years in prison, between 1849 and 1852. He is best known for Qu’estce que la propriété? Ou recherches sur le principe du droit et du gouvernement (1841), Système des contradictions économiques (1846), and several articles published in LeJournal des économistes. His controversy with Bastiat on the subject appears in the form of letters between Bastiat and Proudhon (OC, vol. 5, p. 94, “Gratuité du crédit”). Pulteney, William (1684–1764). A Whig member of Parliament who served as secretary of war 1714–17; was made a peer, the Earl of Bath, in 1742; and was a member of the “Patriot Whigs” who opposed Walpole. Rabaut de Saint-Étienne, Jean-Paul (1743–93). Son and grandson of a minister. He actively defended the rights of non-Catholics. A member of the Girondins, he was guillotined in 1793. Raynal, Guillaume-Thomas-François, abbé (1713–96). Enlightened historian who wrote on the Dutch Stadholderate and the English Parliament. His most famous work was the eight-volume Histoire philosophique et politique, des établissements et du commerce des européens dans les deux Indes (1770), which went through some thirty editions by 1789, was put on the Index in 1774, and was publicly burned. The book was found objectionable because of its treatment of religion and colonialism and its advocacy of the popular right to consent to taxation and to revolt, among other things. Its sometimes incendiary treatment of the slave trade became canonical in the debate over abolition of slavery, which it did much to spur. Riancey, Henri Leon Camusat de (1816–70). Lawyer and journalist. He became a deputy in 1849. He defended Catholic and legitimist causes. Ricardo, David (1772–1823). English political economist born in London of Dutch-Jewish parents. He joined his father’s stockbroking business and made a considerable fortune on the London Stock Exchange. In 1799 he read Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations (1776) and developed an interest in economic theory. He met James Mill and the Philosophic Radicals in 1807, was elected to Parliament in 1819, and was active politically in trying to widen the franchise and to abolish the restrictive Corn Laws. He wrote a number of works, including The High Price of Bullion (1810), on the bullion controvery, and his treatise On the Principles of Political Economy and Taxation (1817). Robespierre, Maximilien de (1758–94). Lawyer and one of the best-known figures of the French Revolution. Robespierre represented Arras in the Estates General before entering the National Convention in 1792. He was an active member of the Société des amis de la constitution (Society of Friends of the Constitution) (the Jacobin Club) and became leader of the Montagnard faction. He was a fierce opponent of the liberal Gironde faction, and in his position as leader of the Committee of Public Safety (1793) he had arrested and executed many members of this group during the Terror. Robespierre was also active in introducing a new civic religion, the Cult of Reason and the Supreme Being, to replace traditional religion. Eventually the Terror turned on its own supporters and Robespierre was himself executed in July 1794. In his political thinking, Robespierre was strongly influenced by the writings of Rousseau, and in 1793 he supported a new declaration of the rights of man that subordinated private property to the needs of “social utility.” Rollin, Charles (1661–1741). Professor of history and literature and eventually president (recteur) of the University of Paris. He was also the author of treatises on literature and a defender of classical studies. Rossi, Pellegrino (1787–1848). Italianborn professor of law and political economy, poet, and in his final days diplomat for the French government. Rossi lived in Geneva, Paris, and Rome. He moved to Switzerland after the defeat of Napoléon, where he met Germaine de Staël and the duc de Broglie. He founded with Sismondi and Etienne Dumont the Annales de législation et de jurisprudence. After the death of Jean-Baptiste Say, Rossi was appointed professor of political economy at the Collège de France in 1833, and in 1836 he became a member of the Académie des sciences morales et politiques. In 1847 he was appointed ambassador of France to the Vatican but was assassinated in 1848 in Rome. He wrote Cours d’économie politique (1840) and numerous articles in Le Journal des économistes. Rousseau, Jean-Jacques (1712–78). Swiss philosopher and novelist who was an important figure in the Enlightenment. In his novels and discourses he claimed that civilization had weakened the natural liberty of mankind and that a truly free society would be the expression of the “general will” of all members of that society. He influenced later thinkers on both ends of the political spectrum. He is best known for his book Du contrat social (The Social Contract)(1761); he was also the author of, among other works, the autobiographical Les Confessions (1783) and the novels Julie, ou la nouvelle Héloïse (1761) and Émile, ou l’education (1762). Rumilly, Louis Gauthier de (1792–1884). Lawyer and deputy (1830–34 and 1837–40). He unsuccessfully presented a project for parliamentary reform in 1840. Russell, Lord John (1792–1878). Member of Parliament, leader of the Whigs, and several times a minister. He served as prime minister from 1846 to 1852 and from 1865 to 1866. Saint-Cricq, Pierre Laurent Barthélemy, comte de (1772–1854). Protectionist who was made director general of customs in 1815, president of the Trade Council, and then minister of trade and colonies in 1828. Saint-Hilaire, Jules Barthélemy (1805–95). Businessman, journalist, deputy, and professor of ancient philosophy. Saint-Hilaire became interested in politics in the late 1820s in order to oppose the conservative reign of King Charles X (1824–30). He wrote articles for a number of newspapers and journals, such as Le Globe, Le National, and Le Courrier français. He was elected to the Constituent Assembly after the outbreak of the 1848 revolution and served as a deputy until he resigned soon after the coup d’état of Louis-Napoléon in 1851. He renounced politics and turned to ancient philosophy, becoming professor of Greek and Latin philosophy at the Collège de France, spending much of the rest of his life translating Aristotle. Saint-Just, Louis Antoine de (1767–94). Close friend and colleague of Robespierre. Saint-Just suffered the same fate as Robespierre, execution by guillotine in July 1794. He served in the National Guard and was elected to the Legislative Assembly (but denied his seat because of his young age), and then to the Convention, where he joined the Montagnard faction. Saint-Just became a member of the Committee of Public Safety in 1793 and was active in military affairs on the committee’s behalf. He was much influenced by Rousseau and supported the creation of an austere and egalitarian republic. Saint-Simon, Claude Henri de Rouvroy, comte de (1760–1825). Writer and social reformer. Saint-Simon came from a distinguished aristocratic family and initially planned a career in the military. He served under George Washington during the American Revolution. When the French Revolution broke out in 1789, he renounced his noble status and took the simple name of Henri Saint-Simon. Between 1817 and 1822 Saint-Simon wrote a number of books that laid the foundation for his theory of “industry” (see “Bastiat’s Political Writings: Anecdotes and Reflections,” pp. 409–10), by which he meant that the old regime of war, privilege, and monopoly would gradually be replaced by peace and a new elite of creators, producers, and industrialists. His disciples, such as Auguste Comte and Olinde Rodrigues, carried on his work with the Saint-Simonian school of thought. Saint-Simon’s views developed in parallel to the more-liberal ideas about “industry” espoused by Augustin Thierry, Charles Comte, and Charles Dunoyer during the same period (see the entries for “Comte, Charles,” and “Dunoyer, Charles,” in this glossary). What distinguished the two schools of thought was that Saint-Simonians advocated rule by a technocratic elite and state-supported “industry,” which verged on being a form of socialism, while the liberal school around Comte and Dunoyer advocated a completely free market without any state intervention whatsoever, which would thus allow the entrepreneurial and “industrial” classes to rise to a predominant position without coercion. Saint-Simon’s best-known works include Réorganisation de la société européenne (1814), L’Industrie (1817), L’Organisateur (1819), and Du système industriel (1821). Say, Jean-Baptiste (1767–1832). Leading French political economist in the first third of the nineteenth century. Before becoming an academic political economist quite late in life, Say apprenticed in a commercial office, working for a life insurance company; he also worked as a journalist, soldier, politician, cotton manufacturer, and writer. During the revolution he worked on the journal of the ideologues, La Décade philosophique, littéraire et politique, for which he wrote articles on political economy from 1794 to 1799. In 1814 he was asked by the government to travel to England on a fact-finding mission to discover the secret of English economic growth and to report on the impact of the revolutionary wars on the British economy. His book De l’Angleterre et des Anglais (1815) was the result. After the defeat of Napoléon and the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy, Say was appointed to teach economics in Paris, first at the Athénée, then as a chair in “industrial economics” at the Conservatoire national des arts et métiers, and finally as the first chair in political economy at the Collège de France. Say is best known for his Traité d’économie politique (1803), which went through many editions (and revisions) during his lifetime. One of his last major works, the Cours complet d’économie politique pratique (1828–33), was an attempt to broaden the scope of political economy, away from the preoccupation with the production of wealth, by examining the moral, political, and sociological requirements of a free society and how they interrelated with the study of political economy. In 1823 Say published a second, unauthorized edition of the Cours with extensive notes criticizing Storch’s ideas on immaterial goods (many of which Bastiat was to take up in Economic Harmonies). Storch replied with an additional volume in 1824, Considérations sur la nature du revenu national. Scialoja, Antonio (1817–77). Italian economist and professor of political economy at the University of Turin. He was imprisoned and exiled during the 1848 revolution. His major economic works were I principi della economia sociale esposti in ordine ideologico (1840); Trattato elementare dieconomia sociale (1848); and Lezioni di economia politica (1846–54). He also wrote many works on law. The first book was translated into French as Les Principes de l’économie exposé selon des idées (1844). Scrope, George Poulett (1797–1876). Economist, member of Parliament, and fellow of the Royal Society. He was an opponent of the Malthusian theory of population, believing that agricultural production, if unhindered, would always outpace population growth; an advocate of free trade and of parliamentary reform; and an advocate of freer banking using paper currency but following the principles of the Scottish free-banking school. His major theoretical work was Principles of Political Economy (1833). Senior, Nassau William (1790–1864). British economist who became a professor of political economy at Oxford University in 1826. In 1832 he was asked to investigate the condition of the poor and, with Edwin Chadwick, wrote the Poor Law Commissioners’ Report of 1834. In 1843 he was appointed a correspondent of the Institut de France. In 1847 he returned to Oxford University. During his life he wrote many articles for the review journals, such as the Quarterly Review, the Edinburgh Review, and the London Review. His books include Lectures on Political Economy (1826) and Outline of the Science of Political Economy (1834). Serres, Olivier de (1539–1619). Pioneering French agronomist who is best known for introducing the growing of silk to France. His best-known work is Le Théâtre d’agriculture et mésnage des champs (1600). Sheridan, Richard (1751–1816). Irish playwright and poet who enjoyed a successful career in the London theater. From 1780 to 1812, he was also a member of Parliament, where he gave many memorable speeches. His best-known work is the play The School for Scandal (1777). Smith, Adam (1723–90). Leading figure in the Scottish Enlightenment and one of the founders of modern economic thought with his work The Wealth of Nations (1776). He studied at the University of Glasgow and had as one of his teachers the philosopher Francis Hutcheson. In the late 1740s Smith lectured at the University of Edinburgh on rhetoric, belles-lettres, and jurisprudence; those lectures are available to us because of detailed notes taken by one of his students. In 1751 he moved to Glasgow, where he was a professor of logic and then moral philosophy. His Theory of Moral Sentiments (1759, translated into French in 1774) was a product of this period of his life. Between 1764 and 1766 he traveled to France as the tutor to the duke of Buccleuch. While in France Smith met many of the physiocrats and visited Voltaire in Geneva. As a result of a generous pension from the duke, Smith was able to retire to Kirkaldy to work on his magnum opus, The Wealth of Nations, which appeared in 1776 (French edition in 1788). Smith was appointed in 1778 as commissioner of customs and was based in Edinburgh, where he spent the remainder of his life. In 1843 an important French edition of the Wealth of Nations was published by Guillaumin with notes and commentary by leading French economists such as Blanqui, Garnier, Sismondi, and Say. The most complete edition of Smith’s works is the Glasgow Edition of the Works and Correspondence of Adam Smith, originally published by Oxford University Press (1960) and later by Liberty Fund in paperback (1982–87). Sobrier, Marie Joseph (1825–54). A radical socialist revolutionary and journalist. He was a member of the Robespierre-inspired Society of the Rights of Man. During the 1848 revolution he edited a radical Montagnard journal La Commune de Paris between March and June 1848 with the assistance of George Sand and Eugène Sue. He was arrested and imprisoned for inciting riots in May 1848 and later pardoned by Napoléon III. Solon (ca. 640–558 bc). Athenian political leader and legislator who contributed to the birth of Athenian democracy with his legendary constitutional and economic reforms. Storch, Henri-Frédéric (1766–1835). Russian economist of German origin who was influenced by the writings of Adam Smith and Jean-Baptiste Say. He was noted for his work on the economics of unfree labor (particularly that of serfdom), the importance of moral (human) capital to national wealth, comparative banking, and the greater wealth-producing capacity of industry and commerce compared with agriculture. Storch studied at the universities of Jena and Heidelberg before returning to Russia, where he taught, worked in various positions in education and government administration, and became a corresponding member of the Saint Petersburg Academy of Sciences. He was chosen to teach various members of the Russian royal family (tutor to the daughters of Tsar Paul I and then appointed by Alexander I to teach political economy to the grand dukes Nicholas and Michael). He became a state councillor in 1804 and head of the Academy’s statistical section. In 1828 he was promoted to the rank of private councillor and appointed vice president of the Academy of Sciences, offices that he held until his death. His major theoretical work was his six-volume Cours d’économie politique, ou exposition des principes qui déterminent la prospérité des nations (1815), which was based upon the lectures he gave the grand dukes. Stuart, Prince Charles Edward (1720–88). Son of James III and the Stuart claimant to the throne after William of Orange came to power in 1688. Known as Bonnie Prince Charlie to his Scottish supporters, he attempted to gain the throne by stirring up a revolt in the Scottish highlands but was decisively beaten at the Battle of Culloden in 1746. Sudre, Alfred (1820–1902). Economist and political writer. He was author of Histoire du communisme ou Réfutation historique des utopies socialistes (1848), which was highly regarded by the reviewer in Le Journal des économistes. Sue, Eugène (1804–57). Son of a surgeon in Napoléon’s army and himself a surgeon in the French navy. He served in Spain in 1823 and at the Battle of Navarino in 1828. Sue was active in the romantic and socialist movements and represented the city of Paris in the Assembly of 1850. He was forced into exile for his opposition to Louis-Napoléon. He wrote many novels on social questions and is best known for his ten-volume work, Le Juif errant (The Wandering Jew) (1844–45). Tanneguy Duchâtel, Charles Marie, comte (1803–67). Member of the Doctrinaires (conservative liberals) during the July Monarchy. He served as minister of public works, agriculture, and commerce (1834–36), minister of finance (1836–37), and minister of the interior (1840–48). He was regarded as economically informed (tending toward Malthusianism) and sympathetic to liberal reform. Telemachus. Mythological son of Odysseus and Penelope and a central character in Homer’s Odyssey. Thiers, Adolphe (1797–1877). Lawyer, historian, politician, and journalist. While he was a lawyer he contributed articles to the liberal journal Le Constitutionel and published one of his most famous works, the ten-volume Histoire de la Révolution française (1823–27). He was instrumental in supporting Louis-Philippe in July 1830 and was the main opponent of Guizot. Thiers defended the idea of a constitutional monarchy in such journals as Le National. After 1813 he became successively a deputy, undersecretary of state, minister of agriculture, and minister of the interior. He was briefly prime minister and minster of foreign affairs in 1836 and 1840, when he resisted democratization and promoted some restrictions on the freedom of the press. During the 1840s he worked on the twenty-volume Histoire du consulat et de l’empire, which appeared between 1845 and 1862. After the 1848 revolution and the creation of the Second Empire he was elected a deputy representing Rouen in the Constituent Assembly. Thiers was a strong opponent of Napoléon III’s foreign policies. After Napoléon’s defeat Thiers was appointed head of the provisional government by the National Assembly and then became president of the Third Republic until 1873. Thiers wrote some essays on economic matters for Le Journal des économistes, but his protectionist sympathies did not endear him to the economists. Tourret, Charles Gilbert (1795–1858). Moderate republican and minister of agriculture and commerce in Cavaignac’s government during the 1848 revolution. He sided with the socialists in the Assembly by supporting workers’ cooperatives and state loans to the unemployed. However, he voted with Bastiat and the other liberals against the right-to-work legislation. Trismegistus (Hermes Trismegistus). Commonly considered to be some sort of combination of the Greek god Hermes and the Egyptian god Thoth, both of whom were gods of writing and of magic in their respective cultures, although it is arguable if there ever was an actual figure called Hermes Trismegistus. Turgot, Anne Robert Jacques, baron de Laulne (1727–81). Economist of the physiocratic school, politician, reformist bureaucrat, and writer. During the mid-1750s Turgot came into contact with the physiocrats, such as Quesnay, du Pont de Nemours, and Vincent de Gournay (who was the free-market intendant for commerce). Turgot had two opportunities to put free-market reforms into practice: when he was appointed Intendant of Limoges in 1761–74; and when Louis XVI made him minister of finance between 1774 and 1776, at which time Turgot issued his six edicts to reduce regulations and taxation. His works include Éloge de Gournay (1759), Réflexions sur la formation et la distribution des richesses (1766), and Lettres sur la liberté du commerce des grains (1770). Vatismenil, Antoine Lefebvre de (1789–1860). Lawyer, magistrate, and minister of public education in 1830 and deputy in 1849. Vattel, Emer de (1714–67). One of the foremost theorists of natural law in the eighteenth century. His writings were widely read in the American colonies and had a profound impact on the thinking of the framers of the American constitution. His most famous work is The Law of Nations, or, Principles of the Law of Nature (1758). Vaucanson, Jacques de (1709–82). French inventor who was famous for creating automata that could play musical instruments to entertain the nobility. He was best known for his machines “The Flute Player” and “The Duck.” Vaucanson turned his hand to more-practical subjects by trying to automate the weaving of silk. Vidal, François (b. 1812). Vidal was the editor of La Démocratie pacifique, La Presse, and La Revue indépendante. His major work De la repartition des richesses, ou de la justice distributive en économie sociale (1846), on the redistribution of wealth, was reviewed critically by Bastiat in Le Journal des économistes (vol. 14, p. 248). Again in Le Journal des économistes (vol. 16, pp. 106ff.), Bastiat also replied to five letters by Vidal that originally appeared in La Presse. During the 1848 revolution Vidal was secretary of the Luxembourg Commission under Louis Blanc which managed the National Workshops and other matters related to state support for unemployed workers. Villèle, Jean-Baptiste, comte de (1773–1854). Leader of the ultralegitimists during the Restoration. He was minister of finance in 1821 and prime minister from 1822 until his resignation in 1828. He was instrumental in getting passed in 1825 an Indemnification Law for nobles who had been dispossessed during the Revolution, and a Law of Sacrilege for affronts to the Church. Villemain, Abel François (1790–1870). A prolific author and professor of French literature at the Sorbonne in 1816. He initially supported the Doctrinaires but became more liberal with his defense of freedom of the press during the government crackdown in the late 1820s. He supported the July revolution in 1830 and was appointed minister of education 1839–1844. He supported legislation which allowed the number of private schools to increase on condition that they submit to greater government regulation. Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet) (1694–1778). One of the leading figures of the French Enlightenment. He first made a name for himself as a poet and playwright before turning to political philosophy, history, religious criticism, and other literary activities. He became notorious in the 1760s for his outspoken campaign against abuses by the Catholic Church and the use of state torture in the Calas Affair. Voltaire wrote a number of popular works, including Lettres philosophique (1734), in which he admired the economic and religious liberties of the English; his philosophic tale Candide (1759); his pathbreaking work of social history Le Siècle de Louis XIV (1751); his Traité sur la tolérance (1763); and the Dictionnaire philosophique (1764), which contained his criticisms of religion and superstition. Walpole, Robert, Earl of Oxford (1676–1745). Whig politician who served from 1701 (when he was first elected to Parliament) until his resignation in 1742. From 1721 to 1742 he was first lord of the treasury and prime minister. He narrowly escaped financial ruin when the South Sea Bubble collapsed in 1720, as a result of speculation in its stock. The company had assumed much of the British National Debt in return for lucrative trading monopolies in South America. Whately, Richard (1787–1863). Archbishop of Dublin and professor of political economy at the University of Oxford, where he was an important member of Nassau Senior’s group. Whately wrote many works of theology before turning to political economy. He was an opponent of the Ricardian school and is considered to be an early adherent to the subjective theory of value. He published his Oxford lectures delivered in Easter Term 1831 as Introductory Lectures on Political Economy (1832). He also wrote a popular work designed to introduce young readers to ideas about money: Easy Lessons on Monetary Matters (1849). Windham, William (1750–1810). Viceroy of Ireland and member of Parliament in 1784. He was also secretary of state for war under Pitt the Younger. Wolowski, Louis (1810–76). Lawyer, politician, and economist of Polish origin. His interests lay in industrial and labor economics, free trade, and bimetallism. He was a member and the president of the Société d’économie politique. In 1848 he represented La Seine in the Constituent and Legislative assemblies, and during the 1848 revolution he was an ardent opponent of the socialist Louis Blanc and his plans for labor organization. Glossary of PlacesAdour. River flowing through the Landes. It permitted the transportation of goods from the Chalosse, the part of the département in which Bastiat lived, to the port of Bayonne, from which they could be exported. With time, sand deposits made navigation more and more difficult. Armagnac. Region in southwest France, adjacent to the département of Landes. A major industry of Armagnac is grape growing and wine production, including the distilling of a brandy called “Armagnac.” Chalosse. Part of the Landes département in which Bastiat had his home. It covers several counties. Gironde. Département in the Aquitaine region in southwest France, immediately to the north of the département of Landes, on the Atlantic coast. The Gironde contains the port city of Bordeaux and is famous for its wines. Because a number of liberal-minded deputies were sent to Paris from this region during the French Revolution, they were given the name Girondins. (See also the entry for “Girondins” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms.) Landes. Département in the southwest of France, where Bastiat spent most of his life. Mugron. A small town in the Landes overlooking the Adour River, where Bastiat lived from 1825 to 1845. At the time it was a significant commercial center, with a port on the Adour River and about two thousand inhabitants (fifteen hundred now). Today, Mugron has a street, a square, and a plaza named after Bastiat. Saint-Sever. Major vine-growing district of the Landes. Glossary of Subjects and TermsAnti–Corn Law League (Corn League, or League). Founded in 1838 by Richard Cobden and John Bright in Manchester. The initial aim of the League was to repeal the law restricting the import of grain (Corn Laws), but it soon called for the unilateral ending of all agricultural and industrial restrictions on the free movement of goods between Britain and the rest of the world. For seven years they organized rallies, meetings, public lectures, and debates from one end of Britain to the other and managed to have proponents of free trade elected to Parliament. The Tory government resisted for many years but eventually yielded on 25 June 1846, when unilateral free trade became the law of Great Britain. Association pour la liberté des échanges (Free Trade Association). Group founded in February 1846 in Bordeaux. Bastiat was the secretary of the Board, presided over by François d’Harcourt and having among its members Michel Chevalier, Auguste Blanqui, Joseph Garnier, Gustave de Molinari, and Horace Say. Le Bien public. Journal founded by Lamartine at the end of 1843 “to serve as the organ of the serious but not radical opposition,” as he stated in his Récapitulation. Extrait du bien public (1844), which was taken from Le Bien public, 21 November 1844. Collège de France. Institution created under François I in 1529 to deliver advanced teaching not yet available at the universities. It grants diplomas, chiefly in engineering. Conservatoire national des arts et métiers. Public institution of higher education created by Abbé Grégoire in 1794. It is intended for people already engaged in professional life and grants diplomas, chiefly in engineering. Constituent Assembly. After the overthrow of Louis Philippe on 24 February 1848, an election was held on 23 April to elect a Constituent Assembly which would draw up a new constitution. The election was by universal male suffrage and involved nearly eight million Frenchmen. Bastiat was successful in this election, representing the département of the Landes. A Constitution Committee of Twelve was appointed to draw up the constitution, which was approved 739 to 30 on 4 November 1848. La Démocratie pacifique: Journal des intérêts des gouvernements et des peuples. Fourrierist journal, launched and edited by Victor Considérant. The journal advocated the creation of “harmonious communities.” It ran from 1843 to 1851. Département. French administrative division. Départements are the equivalent of counties and enjoy a certain administrative autonomy. Doctrinaires. Group of liberal constitutional monarchists who emerged during the restoration of the French monarchy, between 1815 and 1830. They included such people as Pierre Paul Royer-Collard, François Guizot, Élie Decazes, and Maine de Biran, and the journals in which they wrote included Le Constitutionnel and Le Journal des débats. The aim of the Doctrinaires was to steer a middle course between an outright return to the pre-1789 status quo (supported by the Legitimists) and a republic based on full adult suffrage (supported by the socialists and the radical liberals). The Doctrinaires supported King Louis XVIII, the constitution of 1814, and a severely restricted electorate of wealthy property owners and taxpayers who numbered barely one hundred thousand people. Their main principles were articulated by François Guizot in Du gouvernement représentatif et de l’état actuel de la France (1816). Les Économistes (The Economists). Self-named group of liberal, free-trade political economists. Bastiat and his colleagues believed that, because their doctrine was founded on natural law and a scientific study of the way markets and economies worked in reality, there could be only one school of economics (just as there could be only one school of mechanics or optics). On the other hand, the opponents of free markets (such as the followers of Fourier, Robert Owen, Étienne Cabet, Louis Blanc, Pierre Proudhon, and Pierre Leroux) had as many schools of socialist thought as they could imagine different ways in which society might be restructured or reorganized according to their utopian visions. February Revolution. See the entry for “Revolution of 1848” in this glossary. Fourierism. See the entry for “Fourier, François-Marie Charles,” in the Glossary of Persons. Fourierist. See the entry for “Fourier, François-Marie Charles,” in the Glossary of Persons. General Council. Chamber in each French département that deliberates on subjects concerning that département. It has one representative per county (twenty-eight at the time for the Landes département, thirty-one today), elected for nine years (six years today). Its functions have varied over time. Bastiat was elected general councillor in 1833 for the county of Mugron, a post he held until his death. At that time, the Council deliberations had to be approved by the prefect. General Council on Agriculture, Industry, and Trade. Created by a decree of 1 February 1850, the Council resulted from the merger of three councils (respectively agriculture, industry, and commerce) that were separate up to then. It had 236 members: 96 for agriculture, 59 for industry, 73 for commerce, and 8 for Algeria and the colonies. Its role was to enlighten the government on economic matters. The first session took place from 7 April to 11 May 1850 in the Luxembourg Palace and was opened by the president of the Republic. Girondins. Group of liberal-minded and moderate republican deputies and their supporters within the Legislative Assembly (1791–92) and National Convention (1792–95) in the early phase of the French Revolution. They got their name from the fact that many of the deputies came from the Gironde region in southwest France, near the major port city of Bordeaux. An important meeting place for the Girondins, where they discussed their ideas and strategies, was the salon of Madame Roland (1754–93). Other members of the group included Jean Pierre Brissot, Pierre Victurnien Vergniaud, Charles Barbaroux, Thomas Paine, and the marquis de Condorcet. In their bitter rivalry with other groups within the Jacobin group (in particular Robespierre and the Montagnard faction), they disputed the proper treatment and punishment of the deposed king, the war against Austria, and the other monarchical powers that threatened France with invasion, and how far the radical policies of the Revolution needed to be pushed. Eventually they lost out to the radical Jacobins around Robespierre, and many of them were imprisoned and executed during the Terror. Jacobites. Supporters of James II, overthrown in 1688, of his son James III, and of his grandson Charles Edward. The 1688 revolution had organized the succession to the throne in such a way as to prevent any return of the Stuarts, that is, of a Catholic monarchy. Many Tories, though, were suspected of Jacobite sympathies. Jacques Bonhomme. Short-lived biweekly paper in June 1848, written by Bastiat. See also “Bastiat’s Political Writings: Anecdotes and Reflections,” pp. 402–3. Le Journal des débats. Journal founded in 1789 by the Bertin family and managed for almost forty years by Louis-François Bertin. The journal went through several title changes and after 1814 became Le Journal des débats politiques et littéraires. The journal likewise underwent several changes of political positions: it was against Napoléon during the First Empire; under the second restoration it became conservative rather than reactionary; and under Charles X it supported the liberal stance espoused by the Doctrinaires. It ceased publication in 1944. Le Journal des économistes. Journal of the Société d’économie politique, which appeared from December 1841 until the fall of France in 1940. It was published by the firm of Guillaumin (1841–42), which also published the writings of most of the liberals of the period. Le Journal des économistes was the leading journal of the free-market economists (known as “les économistes”) in France in the second half of the nineteenth century. It was edited by Adolphe Blanqui (1842–43), Hippolyte Dussard (1843–45), Joseph Garnier (1845–55), Henri Baudrillart (1855–65), Joseph Garnier (1866–81), Gustave de Molinari (1881–1909), and Yves Guyot (from 1910). Bastiat published many articles in the journal, many of which were later published as pamphlets and books, and his works were all reviewed there. There are fifty-eight entries under Bastiat’s name in the table of contents of the journal for the period 1841 to 1865. July Monarchy. See the entry for “Revolution of 1848” in this glossary. July revolution. See the entry for “Revolution of 1848” in this glossary. June Days. See the entry for “Revolution of 1848” in this glossary. Mimerel Committee. See the entry for “Mimerel de Roubaix, Pierre,” in the Glossary of Persons. Le Moniteur. See the entry for “Le Moniteur industriel” in this glossary. Le Moniteur industriel. Periodical created in July 1835. It became the stronghold of protectionists and Bastiat’s bête noire. Les Montagnards. See the entry for “La Montagne” in this glossary. La Montagne (The Mountain). Comprising a group of deputies (Montagnards) favorable to a “democratic and social republic.” The Manifesto of the Montagnards, issued on 8 November 1848, presented the program of Ledru-Rollin and in general expressed the ideas of the Montagnards. The name comes from the first general assemblies of the revolution, in which the deputies professing these ideas sat in the highest part of the assembly, “the mountain.” Le National. Liberal paper founded in 1830 by Adolphe Thiers to fight the ultrareactionary politics of the duc de Polignac (ultraroyalist politician who served in various capacities, such as prime minister, during the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy). Le National played a decisive role during the “three glorious days” and contributed to the success of Louis-Philippe. Its readership considerably exceeded the number of its subscribers (around three thousand). Phalanstery. Self-sustaining community of the followers of the utopian socialist Charles Fourier. He envisaged that new communities of people would spring up in order to escape the injustices of free-market societies and industrialism. He called his new self-supporting communities “phalanxes,” which would consist of about sixteen hundred people who would live in a specially designed building called a “phalanstère,” or “phalanstery.” A number of communities modeled on his ideas were set up in North America—in Texas, Ohio, New Jersey, and New York. Fourier’s ideas had some influence in French politics during the revolution of 1848 through the activities of Victor Considérant and his “right to work” movement. See also the entry for “Fourier, François-Marie Charles,” in the Glossary of Persons. Physiocrats. Group of French economists, bureaucrats, and legislators who came to prominence in the 1760s and included such figures as François Quesnay (1694–1774), Anne-Robert-Jacques Turgot (1727–81), Mercier de la Rivière (1720–94), Vincent de Gournay (1712–59), Mirabeau (1715–89), and Pierre Samuel du Pont de Nemours (1739–1817). They are best known for coining the expression “laissez-faire” as a summary statement of their policy prescriptions. (See also the discussion of laissez-faire in “Bastiat’s Political Writings: Anecdotes and Reflections,” pp. 408–9.) As the word physiocracy suggests (the rule of nature or natural law), the physiocrats believed that natural laws governed the operation of economic events and that rulers should acknowledge this fact in their legislation. They further believed that agricultural production was the source of wealth and that all barriers to its expansion and improvement (such as internal tariffs, government regulation, and high taxes) should be removed. The strategy of the physiocrats was to educate others through their scholarly and journalistic writings as well as to influence monarchs to adopt rational economic policies via a process of so-called “enlightened despotism.” This strategy met with very mixed results, as Turgot’s failed effort to deregulate the French grain trade in the 1770s attests. Le Populaire. Newspaper propagating the communist ideas of Étienne Cabet. La Presse. Widely distributed daily newspaper, created in 1836 by journalist, businessman, and politician Émile de Girardin (1806–81). Girardin was one of the creators of the modern press and author of, among many works, the brochure Le socialisme et l’impôt (1849), in which he advocated a single tax on capital and revenue. Republican calendar. New calendar adopted by the National Convention in October 1793 as part of a reorganization of all aspects of French society. The calendar would be based on months with three tenday weeks and a renaming of the days and months of the year. Thus 3 Nivôse Year III is 23 December 1794, and 23 Nivôse Year III is 12 January 1795. Many of the names of the months are quite poetic and have become associated with significant historical events: Brumaire, or “fog” (October–November); Nivôse, or “snowy” (December–January); Ventôse, or “windy” (February–March); Germinal, or “germination” (March–April); and Thermidor, or “summer heat” (July–August). The calendar was scrapped by Napoléon in 1805, soon after he became emperor. Revolution of 1848 (also “February revolution”). Because France went through so many revolutions between 1789 and 1870, they are oft en distinguished by reference to the month in which they occurred. Thus we have the “July Monarchy” (of 1830), when the restored Bourbon monarchy of 1815 was overthrown in order to create a more liberal and constitutional monarchy under Louis-Philippe; the “February revolution” (of 1848), when the July Monarchy of Louis-Philippe was overthrown and the Second Republic was formed; the “June Days” (of 1848), when a rebellion by some workers in Paris who were protesting the closure of the government-subsidized National Workshops work-relief program was bloodily put down by General Cavaignac; the “18th Brumaire of Louis-Napoléon,” which refers to the coup d’état that brought Louis-Napoléon (Napoléon Bonaparte’s nephew) to power on 2 December 1851 and that ushered in the creation of the Second Empire—the phrase was coined by Karl Marx and refers to another date, 18 Brumaire in the revolutionary calendar, or 9 November 1799, when Napoléon Bonaparte declared himself dictator in another coup d’état. Bastiat was an active participant in the 1848 revolution, being elected to the Constituent Assembly on 23 April 1848 and then to the Legislative Assembly on 13 May 1849. La Revue britannique. Monthly review that was founded in 1825 by Sébastien-Louis Saulnier (1790–1835). Its full title read Revue britannique. Receuil international. Choix d’articles extraits des meilleurs écrits périodiquesda la Grande-Bretagne et de l’Amérique, complété sur des articles originaux. It contained many articles on economic matters, such as the article in the 6th series, vol. 1, published in 1846, which was an unattributed piece on “La ligue anglaise” (Anti–Corn Law League), which might have been by Bastiat. It ceased publication in 1901. Right of inspection. See the entry for “Slavery” in this glossary. Saint Cyr. Leading French military academy (École spéciale militaire de Saint-Cyr). It was founded by Napoléon in 1803 in order to train officer cadets. During Bastiat’s lifetime there was some contention over the school’s motto. During Napoléon’s rule (1803–15) the motto was “ils s’instruirent pour vaincre” (they study in order to win [or conquer]). The restored monarch, Louis XVIII, changed the motto to “ils s’instruirent pour la défense de la patrie” (they study in order to defend the country). After the 1848 revolution and during the Second Empire (1852–70) the original wording used by Napoléon was reinstated. Saint-Simonists (or Saint-Simonians). See the entry for “Saint-Simon, Claude Henri de Rouvroy,” in the Glossary of Persons. Slavery (slave trade, right of inspection). Slavery did not have a strong presence within France, but it played a major role in the French Caribbean colonies, such as Saint-Dominique (Haiti). Under the influence of the ideas of the French Revolution, slavery was abolished in 1794 and a number of freed blacks were elected to various French legislative bodies. Napoléon reintroduced slavery in 1802 and fought a bloody but unsuccessful war in order to prevent a free black republic from emerging in Haiti. In 1807, under pressure from such abolitionists as William Wilberforce and Thomas Clarkson, Britain passed an act that abolished the slave trade, much of which was carried in British vessels. The United States followed suit in 1808 with a similar ban. This had significant implications for the southern states of the United States and the French Caribbean, where slavery remained firmly in place. The British Navy patroled the oceans, insisting upon a “right of inspection” to look for slaves being carried from Africa to the Caribbean and to punish those involved in the trade as pirates. This policy was a serious bone of contention between Britain and France, as the latter viewed the British policy as interference in their sovereign right to engage in trade and shipping. Slavery was abolished in the British Caribbean in 1833, again in the French colonies during the 1848 revolution, and in the United States in 1865 (the Thirteenth Amendment). Société d’agriculture, commerce, arts, et sciences du département des Landes (Society for Agriculture, Trade, Arts, and Sciences of the Département of the Landes). Founded in 1798, the society, of which Bastiat was a member, included landowners with large holdings and people from the liberal professions. Société d’économie politique (Society of Political Economy). Refounded in late 1842 after a false start in early 1842 and had its first monthly meeting at a restaurant in November 1842. It was attended by Joseph Garnier, Adolphe Blaise, Eugène Daire, Gilbert-Urbain Guillaumin, and a fifth member who soon dropped out because he was a supporter of tariffs. Its first president was Charles Dunoyer, who served from 1845 to 1862, and Joseph Garnier was made permanent secretary in 1849. Its membership in 1847 was about fifty and grew to about eighty at the end of 1849. It is not known when Bastiat joined the society, but he is first mentioned in the minutes for August 1846, when the society hosted a banquet in honor of Richard Cobden, and Bastiat was one of several members of the society to make a formal toast to “the past and present defenders of free trade in the House of Lords and the House of Commons.” A summary of its monthly meetings was published in Le Journal des économistes. Tory. See the entry for “Whig and Tory.” Whig and Tory. Before the establishment of modern, organized, ideologically based political parties in the nineteenth century, there were less-formal groups or alliances that associated for short-term political benefit. In the late seventeenth, eighteenth, and early nineteenth centuries there emerged in Britain groupings called Whigs and Tories. The Whigs emerged in the late seventeenth century during the struggle of the Protestants, constitutional monarchists, and landed interests to prevent a newly invigorated Catholic Stuart monarchy from gaining power in 1678–81. This group was led by the Earl of Shaftesbury. By the 1830s and 1840s the Whigs had adopted the policies of free trade, the abolition of slavery, and Catholic emancipation. The origin of the name is probably from a term of abuse and criticism coined by their opponents—a “whiggamor” is a Scottish Gaelic word for cattle drover. The Tories originally supported the Catholic Scottish claimant to the English throne in 1680 but later became staunch defenders of the established Anglican Church and the interests of the court. They opposed all forms of religious dissent and extension of the suffrage. Their name, too, probably came from their opponents—tóraidhe is an Irish word that means “outlaw.” Wine and Spirits Tax. The wine and spirits tax was eliminated by the revolutionary parliament of 1789 but progressively reinstated during the empire. It comprised four components: (1) a consumption tax (10 percent of the sale price); (2) a license fee paid by the vendor, depending on the number of inhabitants; (3) a tax on circulation, which depended on the département; and (4) an entry duty for the towns of more than four hundred inhabitants, depending on the sale price and the number of inhabitants. Being from a wine-producing region, Bastiat had always been preoccupied by such a law, which was very hard on the local farmers. Zollverein. German customs union that emerged in 1834 when the southwestern German states of Baden and Württemberg joined the Prussian customs union. The Prussian state and its territories had created an internal customs union in 1818 following the economic turmoil of the Napoleonic wars and the increase in size of Prussian-controlled territory. It was based upon the relatively low Prussian customs rate, which meant that the expanded German customs union created a significant trading zone within the German-speaking part of Europe with a relatively low external tariffrate and the hope of increasing deregulation of trade within the trading zone. Bibliographical Note on the Works Cited in This VolumeIn the text, Bastiat cites or alludes to many literary, political, and economic works. We have listed these works with a full citation in the bibliography of primary sources. In the glossaries, if a work is cited, we have given only the title of the work and the date when it was first published, so that its historical context might be appreciated, for example, Rousseau, The Social Contract (1762); the bibliography, however, might cite a different edition, depending on the source or reason for the citation. In the bibliography of primary sources, we have tried, if possible, to cite editions published during Bastiat’s lifetime that he might well have used. For example, the third edition of the complete works of Rousseau appeared in seventeen volumes in 1830–33: Œuvres complètes de J.-J. Rousseau, avec les notes de tous les commentateurs. The edition by Hiard of The Social Contract might have also been used by Bastiat: Du contrat social, ou principes du droit politique. Or, for example, a three-volume collected works of Maximilien Robespierre was published in the late 1830s as the French socialist movement was beginning to grow on the eve of the 1848 revolution. This is the edition Bastiat most likely had access to: Œuvres de Maximilien Robespierre, avec une notice historique et des notes, par le citoyen Laponneraye. Bastiat was oft en quite cavalier in citing the sources he used, not providing page references let alone identifying the chapters. Where we have been able to locate the quotation, we have given the book number, chapter number, and the title of the chapter. Sometimes we have been able to locate the exact edition of a work Bastiat used, and in those instances, we have provided page numbers to that work. If we have not been able to locate the exact edition of a work Bastiat used but have found the exact location of the quotation in a different (sometimes, modern) edition, we have cited and provided the page numbers to that work. For example, in the chapter “Baccalaureate and Socialism,” Bastiat quotes oft en from Rousseau. We have been able to locate many of those quotations, with page numbers, in a 1975 edition of Rousseau’s works, Du contrat social et autres œuvres politiques. For background information about key concepts and biographical details of political figures and authors we have frequently consulted Le Dictionnaire de l’économie politique (1852–53). Bastiat was closely connected to the group of classical liberal political economists in Paris during the 1840s: he was a member of the Société d’économie politique (founded 1842); he wrote many articles for Le Journal des économistes (founded 1841); he published his books and pamphlets with the Guillaumin publishing house (which also published Le Journal des économistes and the Dictionnaire); he wrote two key articles for the Dictionnaire, “Abondance” (Wealth) and “Loi” (Law); and he was quoted in many other articles, most notably in the key article in the Dictionnaire, “L’État” (The State). In some cases Bastiat does not quote an author or authors directly but paraphrases their ideas in his own words. For example, in a speech in the Chamber of Deputies he might refer to his socialist opponents as “they” and “quote” a number of their ideas in a paragraph in which he paraphrases their thoughts. In cases like this we have made no effort to track down and cite the source of each of these individual ideas or thoughts. BibliographyPrimary SourcesWORKS BY BASTIATThe works by Bastiat listed below represent not only the sources used for this translation but also those cited in the text, notes, and glossaries. Economic Harmonies. Edited by W. Hayden Boyers and translated by George B. de Huszar. Irvington-on-Hudson, N.Y.: Foundation for Economic Education, 1979. Economic Sophisms. Translated by Arthur Goddard. Irvington-on-Hudson, N.Y.: Foundation for Economic Education, 1968. “L’État.” Journal des débats (25 September 1848), pp. 1–2. L’État. Maudit argent. Paris: Guillaumin, 1849. Harmonies économiques: Augmentée des manuscrits laissés par l’auteur, Publiée par la Société des amis de Bastiat. Edited by Prosper Paillottet and Roger de Fontenay. 2nd ed. Paris: Guillaumin, 1851. Lettres d’un habitant des Landes, Frédéric Bastiat. Edited by Mme Cheuvreux. Paris: A. Quantin, 1877. Œuvres complètes de Frédéric Bastiat, mises en ordre, revues et annotées d’après les manuscrits de l’auteur. Paris: Guillaumin, 1854–55, 1st ed.; 1862–64, 2nd ed.; 1870–73, 3rd ed.; 1878–79, 4th ed.; 1881–84, 5th ed.; if there was a sixth edition, the date is unknown; 1893, 7th ed. The editions of Bastiat’s Œuvres complètes that were used in making this translation are as follows:
Selected Essays on Political Economy. Translated by Seymour Cain. Irvington-on-Hudson, N.Y.: Foundation for Economic Education, 1975. WORKS BY OTHER AUTHORS CITED IN THE TEXT, NOTES, AND GLOSSARIESWe list here the works by other authors mentioned in the text, notes, and glossaries. Although not exhaustive, these works represent many primary sources that were important during Bastiat’s time.
Secondary SourcesThe works listed below were consulted in compiling the glossaries and notes.
This book is set in Adobe Garamond, designed by Robert Slimbach in 1989. The face is based on the refined array of the typefaces of French punchcutter, type designer, and publisher Claude Garamond. These faces combine an unprecedented degree of balance and elegance and stand as a pinnacle of beauty and practicality in sixteenth-century typefounding. Claude Garamond (ca. 1480–1561), a true Renaissance man, introduced the apostrophe, the accent, and the cedilla to the French language. This book is printed on paper that is acid-free and meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, z39.48-1992. (archival) Book design by Barbara E. Williams BW&A Books, Inc. Durham, North Carolina Typography by Graphic Composition, Inc. Athens/Bogart, Georgia Printed and bound by Worzalla Stevens Point, Wisconsin [1. ]For a more detailed description of the publication history of the Œuvres complètes, see “Note on the Editions of the Œuvres complètes” and the bibliography. [2. ]These two sources can be found at http://oll.libertyfund.org/person/25. [1. ]Œuvres complètes de Frédéric Bastiat, mises en ordre, revues et annotées d’après les manuscrits de l’auteur (Paris: Guillaumin, 1854–55). 6 vols.: vol. 1, Correspondance et mélanges (1855); vol. 2, Le Libre-échange (1855); vol. 3, Cobden et la Ligue ou L’Agitation anglaise pour la liberté des échanges (1854); vol. 4, Sophismes économiques. Petits pamphlets I (1854); vol. 5, Sophismes économiques. Petits pamphlets II (1854); vol. 6, Harmonies économiques (1855). [Edited by Prosper Paillottet with the assistance of Roger de Fontenay, but Paillottet and Fontenay are not credited on the title page.] [2. ]Vol. 7: Essais, ébauches, correspondance (1864). [1. ]From 1815 to the end of the Second Republic, freedom of education had been a recurrent theme in parliamentary debates. In early 1850, a bill put forward in 1849 by Frédéric de Falloux was debated in a commission presided over by Adolphe Thiers. Victor Hugo and Charles de Montalembert were among the members. Bastiat proposed a significant amendment but was unable to attend the debates for health reasons. This paper, a justification for the amendment, was sent to the commission. After serious, deep, and sometimes brilliant debates, the law was adopted on 15 March 1850, but without Bastiat’s amendment. [2. ]“Baccalaureat,” “licence,” and “doctorat” were the degrees delivered by the universities only. [3. ](Paillottet’s note) Twenty years before, the author, in his initial article, had already pointed to the freedom of education as being one of the reforms that the nation should try to obtain. See the article titled “To the Electors of the Département of the Landes,” in vol. 1. (OC, vol. 1, p. 217, “Aux électeurs du département des Landes.”) [4. ]“By reason of his person and relevant reasons.” This phrase relates to a jurisdiction’s competence to judge a person or a material offence. [5. ]Pierre Louis Parisis. [6. ]Malo periculosam libertatem [quam quietam servitutem]: “I prefer the tumult of liberty [to the quiet of servitude].” [7. ](Bastiat’s note) “He who dares to undertake to teach a people must consider himself capable of changing human nature, in a manner of speaking . . ., of altering the physical and moral constitution of man, etc.” [This passage comes from Du contrat social, bk. 2, chap. 7, “The Legislator.”] [8. ](Paillottet’s note) See pp. 365 and 380 of this volume. (OC, vol. 4, “La Loi,” and pp. 365 and 380.) [9. ]In 1844 Thiers battled against a bill instituting a degree of freedom in secondary education. He was in favor of a system where “the youth would be thrown into a mold and cast according to the effigy of the state.” According to him, any free educational establishment should be under the tight control of the university. [10. ](Bastiat’s note) Report by M. Thiers on the law on secondary education, 1844. [11. ](Paillottet’s note) Distance contributes not a little to giving antique figures an aura of greatness. If Roman citizens are mentioned to us, we do not normally conjure up a vision of a brigand intent on acquiring plunder and slaves at the expense of peaceful peoples. We do not visualize him going about half naked, hideously dirty in muddy streets. We do not come across him whipping a slave who shows a bit of initiative and pride until the brigand draws blood or kills him. We prefer to conjure up a fine head set on a bust brimming with force and majesty and draped like an ancient statue. We prefer to contemplate this person as he meditates on the high destiny of his fatherland. We seem to see his family around the hearth honoring the presence of the gods, with his wife preparing a simple meal for the warrior and casting a confident and admiring look on the brow of her husband and the children and paying attention to the words of an old man who whiles the hours away reciting the exploits and virtues of their father. . . . [12. ]The verses quoted by Bastiat are from Corneille’s play Horace (1640). See also the entry for “Corneille, Pierre,” in the Glossary of Persons. [13. ](Bastiat’s note) The shapers of societies are sometimes modest enough not to say, “I will do this,” “I will dispose of this.” They readily use this impersonal but equivalent form: “One will do this,” “One will not allow this.” [14. ]Montesquieu, L’Ésprit des lois. The edition of L’Ésprit des lois to which Bastiat might have had access was Œuvres de Montesquieu, avec éloges, analyses, commentaires, remarques, notes, réfutations, imitations. The editor was Victor Destutt de Tracy, the son of Antoine Destutt de Tracy, who had written an extensive commentary on L’Ésprit des lois for Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson had it published in 1811: A Commentary and Review of Montesquieu’s Spirit of Laws. [15. ]Ibid. [16. ]Ibid. [17. ]Ibid. [18. ]Ibid. [19. ]Rousseau, “Discours: Si le rétablissement des sciences et des arts a contribué a épurer les mœurs,” in Du Contrat social et autres œuvres politiques, pp. 8–9. [20. ]Rousseau, “Quelle est l’origine de l’inégalité parmi les hommes,” in Du contrat social et autres œuvres politiques, p. 40. [21. ]Ibid., pp. 72–73. [22. ]Ibid., p. 73. [23. ]Rousseau, “Du contrat social,” in Du contrat social et autres œuvres politiques, p. 259. [24. ]Ibid., pp. 259–60. [25. ]Ibid., pp. 262–63. [26. ]Rousseau, “Du contrat social,” in Du contrat social et autres œuvres politiques, p. 243. [27. ]The Confessions of Jean-Jacques Rousseau was first published in 1782, after his death in 1778. An edition Bastiat might have used was Les Confessions de J.-J. Rousseau. Avec les notes de Musset-Pathay et de Petitain. [28. ]Bastiat is referring to Vattel’s Le droit des gens, ou principes de la loi naturelle (1758). [29. ]See “The Law,” p. 128, note 10 , in this volume. [30. ]Gaius Fabricius Luscinus. [31. ]An edition of Mirabeau’s work that Bastiat might well have used would be the eight-volume Œuvres de Mirabeau (1834–35). [32. ]This quotation is from “Discours de Robespierre sur la propriété.” See Robespierre, Œuvres de Maximilien Robespierre, vol. 3, pp. 352–53. [33. ]Ibid., p. 353. [34. ]Ibid., p. 354. [35. ]Marcus Licinius Crassus. [36. ]From “Discours de Robespierre sur la propriété.” See Robespierre, Œuvres de Maximilien Robespierre, vol. 3, pp. 351–52. [37. ]This passage probably comes from a speech that Saint-Just gave in the National Convention. His collected works were published in Paris in 1834: Œuvres de Saint-Just, représentant du peuple à la Convention Nationale. [38. ]In 1831 a book titled Fragments sur les institutions républicaines, ouvrage posthume de Saint-Just was published. The book contained “fragments” on republican institutions by the Jacobin politician Louis Antoine de Saint-Just. The title page had a quotation from Montesquieu’s L’Ésprit des lois, bk. 3, chap. 3: “The politic Greeks, who lived under a popular government, knew no other support than virtue: the modern inhabitants of that country are entirely taken up with manufacture, commerce, finances, opulence, and luxury.” Bastiat quotes from Fragment Three, “Un gouvernement républicain a la vertu pour principe; sinon, la terreur. Que veulent ceux qui ne veulent, ni vertu, ni terreur?” It is interesting to note that this book was copublished by the Guillaumin publishing house, which in the 1840s was to specialize in publishing the works of the French political economists, including books and pamphlets by Bastiat. [39. ]See Saint-Just, Fragments sur les institutions républicaines, p. 58. [40. ]Ibid., pp. 58–59. [41. ]See the entry for “Gracchi” in the Glossary of Persons. [42. ]See the entry for “Republican calendar” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms. [43. ]Jean-Paul Rabaut. [44. ]The Hospice des Quinze-vingt was originally an almshouse for the blind and later transformed into a workshop for inmates. Bastiat is referring to the administration in charge. [45. ]A “healing power.” [46. ]From vol. 6, chap. 129, “Rapport sur le report de loi relatif à l’instruction secondaire, déposé le 13 juillet 1844 à la Chambre des Députés,” in Thiers, Discours parlementaires: Troisième partie, p. 450. [47. ]Ibid., p. 458. [48. ]Ibid., p. 459. [49. ](Paillottet’s note) In the outline from which we borrowed the preceding note [p. 194, note 11 ], the author examines these two questions:
[50. ]In many societies colors are associated with different political points of view. It is possible that the term “Reds” refers to supporters of the army or the emerging socialists; “Whites” refers to supporters of the monarchy; “Blues” refers to the liberals; and “Blacks” refers to supporters of the church. [51. ]“Learned men are those who have the least faith.” [52. ](Paillottet’s note) See Justice and Fraternity, pages 316 and 317. (OC, vol. 4, p. 298, “Justice et fraternité.”) [See also “Justice and Fraternity,” pp. 73–74 in this volume.] [53. ]From Augustine’s Confessions 1.13. The full Latin passage reads, “Tali dementia honestiores et uberiores litterae putantur quam illae quibus legere et scribere didici.” [Madness like this is thought a higher and a richer learning than that by which I learned to read and write.] [54. ]Bastiat is quoting from St. Augustine, The Confessions, chap. 16: “He Disapproves of the Mode of Educating Youth, and He Points Out Why Wickedness Is Attributed to the Gods by the Poets.” [55. ](Paillottet’s note) In the first few months of 1848, the author, who was working on the second volume of the Harmonies, began a chapter titled “Liberty, Equality” for this volume. Shortly afterward, he abandoned this plan and never finished it. We have printed this fragment here since it is in tune with the idea of the article we have just read. [1. ]Thiers’s book De la propriété was published in the fall of 1848 under the auspices of the Central Committee of the Association for the Defense of National Work, a vehicle for protectionist doctrines. The association apparently took no offence at Thiers’s claim that “everyone is entitled to dispose completely and freely of the products of his work.” Bastiat shows below that the latter proposition contradicts protectionist doctrines. [2. ](Paillottet’s note) At the time this article appeared, in January 1849, M. Thiers was very highly regarded at the Elysée. [3. ](Paillottet’s note) See in vol. 1 the letters addressed to M. de Lamartine in January 1845 and October 1846 and in vol. 2 the article titled Du Communisme, dated 27 June 1847. (OC, vol. 1, p. 406, “Un Économiste à M. de Lamartine,” and p. 452, “Seconde Lettre à M. de Lamartine”; and vol. 2, p. 116, “Du Communisme.”) [4. ](Paillottet’s note) See in vol. 2 the article titled Free Trade dated 20 December 1846. (OC, vol. 2, p. 4, “Le Libre-Échange.”) [5. ](Paillottet’s note) This thought, by which, according to the author, M. Billault was able to strengthen his argument, was shortly to be adopted by another protectionist. It was developed by M. Mimerel in a speech delivered on 27 April 1850 to the General Council for Agriculture, Industry, and Trade. See a passage from his speech quoted in this volume in the article Plunder and Law. (OC, vol. 5, p. 1, “Spoliation et loi”; passage begins on p. 11.) [See also “Plunder and Law,” p. 174 in this volume.] [6. ](Paillottet’s note) See this volume, p. 94, chapter 18, of Sophisms. (OC, vol. 4, p. 94, chap. 18, “Il n’y a pas de principes absolus.”) [7. ]See the entry for “Cabet, Étienne,” in the Glossary of Persons. [8. ]“On equal footing.” [9. ]Bastiat contrasts the expression “l’échange libre” (which we have translated as “freedom to trade”) with “le libre-échange” (which we have translated as “free trade”). By January 1849, when he wrote this article, the expression “le libre-échange” had acquired a particular meaning. It had become associated with the Association pour le libre-échange (The Free Trade Association), which he helped found, and with the journal Le Libre-échange (Free Trade), which he edited, and the movement for free trade in France, which he led. [10. ]A river in the Basque country between France and Spain. [11. ]Customs gave subsidies to some exporters in order to encourage—or maintain in existence—a specific sector of production. In practice, these subsidies covered the taxes levied on raw materials used by the said industries for the exported products. [12. ](Paillottet’s note) See in vol. 2 the articles titled “One Profit for Two Losses” and “Two Losses for One Profit.” (OC, vol. 2, p. 377, “Un profit contre deux pertes,” and p. 384, “Deux pertes contre un profit.”) [13. ]The cost of French coal after extraction was on average 9.76 francs per ton. France imported one-third of its consumption of coal from the United Kingdom and Belgium. The import duty was 6 francs for the British coal and 3 francs for the Belgian coal coming by land. [14. ](Paillottet’s note) See in this volume the third letter of the article titled “Property and Plunder,” pp. 407ff. (OC, vol. 4, p. 394, “Propriété et spoliation,” pp. 407ff.) [See also “Property and Plunder,” p. 157 in this volume.] [15. ](Paillottet’s note) See in vol. 5 the final pages of the pamphlet titled “Plunder and Law.” (OC, vol. 5, p. 1, “Spoliation et loi,” final pages 13–15.) [See also “Plunder and Law,” final pages 275–76 in this volume.] [16. ](Paillottet’s note) See in vol. 2 most of the articles under the heading “Polemic Against the Journals,” especially the article titled “The Democratic Party and Free Trade.” (OC, vol. 5, pp. 81–164; and p. 93, “Le Parti démocratique et le libre-échange.”) [17. ](Paillottet’s note) These two small volumes, which the author indeed sent to M. Thiers, were the first and second series of the Sophisms. (OC, vol. 4, “Sophismes économiques,” p. 1, “Première série,” and p. 127, “Deuxième série.”) [18. ]Chartism was an English working-class movement that was active from 1838 throughout the 1840s. It took its name from the so-called People’s Charter of 1838, which called for the following: full manhood suffrage for those over twenty-one, the removal of the requirement that members of Parliament own a certain minimum of property, the payment of a salary for members of Parliament, the annual election of Parliament, and the creation of equally sized constituencies. [19. ]Bastiat is being sarcastic here. He is calling the protectionist Association for the Defense of National Work the “Association for the Defense of Monopolies.” This association was headed by Pierre Mimerel and Antoine Odier. [1. ](Paillottet’s note) On 27 April 1850, following a very curious discussion, printed in Le Moniteur, the General Council on Agriculture, Industry, and Trade issued the following wish: [2. ](Paillottet’s note) See the theory of value in chapter 5 of Economic Harmonies. (OC, vol. 6, chap. 5, p. 140, “De la valeur.”) [3. ](Paillottet’s note) The author had expressed this opinion three years previously in the issue of the journal Le Libre échange dated 28 November 1847. In reply to Le Moniteur industriel, he had said: We would ask the reader to forgive us if we become casuists for a moment. Our opponents oblige us to put on our doctor’s mortarboard. This is apposite since it oft en pleases them to refer to us as doctors.An illegal act is always immoral for the sole reason that it disobeys the law, but it does not follow that it is immoral in itself. When a mason (we apologize to our colleague for drawing his attention to such a small point) exchanges his earnings from a hard day’s work for a length of Belgian cloth, his action is not intrinsically immoral. It is not the action that is immoral in itself; it is the violation of the law. And the proof of this is that, should the law be changed, no one would find anything wrong with this exchange. It is not immoral in Switzerland. But what is immoral in itself is immoral everywhere and at all times. Will Le Moniteur industriel claim that the morality of acts depends on their time and place?If some acts can be illegal without being immoral, others are immoral without being illegal. When our colleague changes our words by trying to find a meaning in them that is not there, when certain people, after privately declaring that they are in favor of freedom, write and vote against it, when a master makes his slave work by beating him, it is possible that the Code is not violated, but the consciences of all honest men are revolted. It is at the head of this category of actions that we place these restrictions. A Frenchman says to another Frenchman who is his equal or ought to be, “I forbid you to buy Belgian cloth because I want you to be obliged to come to my shop. That may upset you but it suits my purpose. You will lose four but I will gain two and that is enough.” We would say that this action is immoral. If someone makes so bold as to bring it about himself forcibly or by means of the law, this does not change the character of the act. It is immoral by nature, in essence; it would have been so ten thousand years ago and would be in the Antipodes or on the moon, since whatever Le Moniteur industriel says, the law, which can do a great deal, cannot, however, turn something that is bad into good.We are not even afraid to say that the contribution of the law increases the immorality of the act. If it were not involved, if for example the manufacturer had his restrictive wishes executed by those in his pay, the immorality would be blindingly obvious to Le Moniteur industriel itself. What then! Because this manufacturer was able to spare himself this effort, because he was able to appropriate the services of public compulsion and saddle those oppressed with part of the costs of repression, what was immoral has become meritorious!It is true that the people thus trampled on may imagine that it is for their good and that oppression results from an error common to both oppressors and those oppressed. This is enough to justify the intention and remove from the act the odiousness that it would otherwise have. Where this happens, the majority approves of the law. We have to accept this and would never say otherwise. However, nothing will stop us from telling the majority that in our opinion, it is mistaken. [4. ](Paillottet’s note) See “Protectionism and Communism” in vol. 4. (OC, vol. 4, p. 504, “Protectionisme et communisme.”) [See also “Protectionism and Communism,” p. 235 in this volume.] [5. ](Bastiat’s note) Organization of Work, pages 17 and 24 of the introduction [Blanc, L’Organisation du travail]. [6. ]See OC, vol. 4, p. 27, “Égaliser les conditions de production” (Sophism no. 4). [7. ](Bastiat’s note) The issue of Le Moniteur dated 28 April 1850. [8. ]As indicated in “Protectionism and Communism,” p. 252, note 11 , in this volume customs gave subsidies to some exporters in order to encourage—or maintain in existence—a specific industrial sector. [9. ](Bastiat’s note) The issue of Le Moniteur dated 28 April. See the opinion of M. Devinck. [10. ](Paillottet’s note) This is implicitly refuted in chapter 12 of the first series and chapters 4 and 12 of the second series of “Sophisms.” (OC, vol. 4, chap. 12, p. 74, “La Protection élève-t-elle le taux des salaires?”; chap. 4, p. 160, “Conseil inférieur du travail,” and chap. 12, p. 213, “Le Sel, la poste, la douane.”) [11. ]Ricochet sophism is best translated as “the sophism of indirect consequences.” The allusion is to the sophists, who pretend that there are very beneficial, indirect consequences to some duties for which they are asking. [12. ](Paillottet’s note) In this response to the protectionists, which he addressed to them on his departure for the Landes, the author, obliged to give his views rapidly on the rational domain of legislation, felt the need to set them out in more detail. He did this a few days later during a short stay in Mugron when he wrote The Law, a pamphlet included in this volume. (OC, vol. 4, p. 342, “La Loi.”) [See also “The Law,” p. 107 in this volume.] [1. ]The teaching of political economy (essentially liberal) began rather late in France. From 1815 Jean-Baptiste Say taught at the Athénée and then at the Conservatoire national des arts et métiers. Under the July Monarchy, two chairs were created: one at the Collège de France, in 1831, occupied first by Say and then by Pellegrino Rossi and Michel Chevalier; the other was created at the École des ponts et chaussées in 1846. It was occupied by Joseph Garnier. [2. ](Paillottet’s note) Three years before the demonstration that triggered the preceding pamphlet [Paillottet is referring to “Plunder and Law”], the removal of professors and the abolition of chairs of political economy had been formally requested by the members of the Mimerel Committee, who shortly afterward softened their position and limited themselves to claiming that the theory of protectionism should be taught at the same time as that of free trade. [3. ](Paillottet’s note) This is the origin of Baccalaureate and Socialism, which will become even more apparent in the following pages. (OC, vol. 4, p. 442, “Baccalauréat et socialisme.”) [See also “Baccalaureate and Socialism,” p. 185 in this volume.] [4. ]“And yet it moves.” [5. ]“And yet it is good.” [6. ](Paillottet’s note) Mr. Whately, the archbishop of Dublin, who founded a chair of political economy there, held the professorship at Oxford. [7. ]Bastiat is probably referring to Henri-Frédéric Storch. [8. ]This is a reference to the Eclogues, or Bucolics, of the Roman poet Virgil (70–19 bc). The Eclogues were pastoral poems depicting a rural Arcadia but set during a time of land confiscations by the Roman state. [9. ](Paillottet’s note) See the declaration of the principles of [Free Trade] Society in Le Libre-échange in vol. 2. (OC, vol. 2, p. 1, “Déclaration.”) [1. ](Paillottet’s note) A pamphlet published in February 1849. One month earlier in Le Journal des débats, the author had written an article that we are copying at the end of Peace and Freedom because it is on the same subject. [2. ]On the very day of his election as president of the Republic, Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte appointed a cabinet. It was headed by Odilon Barrot and included a number of outstanding personalities, among them two well-known liberals, Hyppolite Passy (finance) and Léon Faucher (public works and the interior). [3. ]There is a misprint in Paillottet’s edition, where “plan” is printed as “pain” (bread). We have checked it against the original pamphlet, “Paix et liberté ou le budget républicain” (Paris: Guillaumin, 1849), p. 6. [4. ](Paillottet’s note) On the political views of the author, see in vol. 1 his articles and political manifestos published on the occasion of the elections (OC, vol. 1, p. 506, “Profession de foi électorale de 1848,” and p. 507, “Profession de foi électorale de 1849.”) [5. ]Revolution of 1848. [6. ]After the revolution of 1848, there were a number of claimants to ruling France: on the royalist side was the grandson of Charles X, the duc de Bordeaux, who later become comte de Chambord; and the grandson of Louis-Philippe, comte de Paris. Then, of course, there was also Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, the nephew of Napoléon Bonaparte, who would eventually become emperor in 1851. [7. ]Aeolus is a Greek mythical figure who is mentioned in Homer’s Odyssey as the guardian of the winds. Aeolus gives the hero Odysseus the favorable winds he will need in order to sail safely back to Ithaca. He also gives Odysseus a tightly sealed leather bag containing “the adverse winds,” which would hinder his journey. [8. ](Paillottet’s note) See the pamphlet, The State, vol. 4, page 327. (OC, vol. 4, p. 327, “L’État.”) [See also “The State,” p. 93 in this volume.] [9. ]See the entry for “La Montagne” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms. [10. ]Here and on the following pages, Bastiat describes, then justifies through the English experience, the phenomenon known today as the Laffer Curve. The idea behind the so-called Laffer Curve (named after the economist Arthur Laffer) is that a cut in tax rates will lead to greater economic output, which over time increases the overall size of the tax base. [11. ](Bastiat’s note) We have got [reached] the bounds of profitable taxation. (Peel) [This note is in English in the original.] [12. ](Bastiat’s note) I say mine to keep things short, but I must not pose as its inventor. The editor in chief of La Presse has published several times the basic idea that I am echoing here. What is more, he has produced its application successfully. Suum cuique [“to each his own”]. [13. ]“After this, therefore because of this.” [14. ]Railway mania refers to an investment bubble in the mid 1840s for the building of railways in England. The Bank of England lowered interest rates, thus stimulating a boom in railway investment by private companies. Hundreds of acts of Parliament were passed authorizing such companies to build new railway lines. When the Bank of England raised interest rates in late 1845, the speculative nature and economic unsoundness of these investments were exposed, which led to a crash in the market in 1846. [15. ]Many cities, bridges, and rivers in the medieval and early-modern period imposed tolls, or péage, on travelers and the goods they were transporting for sale. By the eighteenth century the tolls had became so onerous that they impeded the free flow of goods within a state like France. The physiocrats advocated their abolition as a means of creating free trade, and this was partially achieved during the French Revolution as part of the policy of rationalizing and centralizing the nation state. Bastiat is referring here to those local and city tolls that still remained. [16. ]Bastiat is probably making a reference to the novel The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, by Laurence Sterne, published in 1759. [18. ](Paillottet’s note) See the chapter titled “Expensive, Cheap” in vol. 4, p. 163, Economic Sophisms, second series. (OC, vol. 4, p. 163, “Cherté, bon marché.”) [19. ](Paillottet’s note) In the pamphlet titled Plunder and Law [see “Plunder and Law,” p. 266 in this volume], we have seen that the author was not slow to acknowledge how far he was mistaken in imagining that the protectionists had become reasonable. However, it is true that, at the start of 1849, they showed themselves to be much more amenable than they were one year later. [20. ](Bastiat’s note) The treaty passed between our fathers and the clergy is an obstacle to this very welcome reform. Justice above all. [21. ](Paillottet’s note) This blindness of public opinion saddened the author for a long time, and as soon as an attempt to consolidate the blindfold over the eyes of our fellow citizens came to his attention, he felt the need to combat it. However, in his retreat in Mugron, he lacked the means to publish his writing. The following letter, therefore, written by him many years ago has remained unpublished to the present day. To M. SaulnierEditor of La Revue britanniqueDear Sir,You have instilled transports of joy in all those who find the word economics absurd, ridiculous, unacceptable, bourgeois, and shift y. Le Journal des débats extols you, the president of the council quotes you, and the favors of government are waiting for you. However, what have you done, sir, to merit so much applause? You have established through figures (and everyone knows that figures never lie) that it costs the citizens of the United States more than the subjects of France to be governed. This gives rise to the rigorous consequence (rigorous for the people in effect) that it is absurd to wish to place limits on the lavishness of power in France. But, sir, and I ask your pardon and that of the economic research centers, your figures, assuming they are correct, do not seem to me to be unfavorable to the American government. In the first place, to establish that one government spends more than another does not give any information on their relative goodness. If one of them, for example, is administering a nascent nation that has all its roads to build, all its canals to dig out, all its towns to pave, and all its public establishments to create, it is natural that it spends more than one that has scarcely more to do than maintain its existing establishments. Well, you know as well as I do, sir, that spending that way is to save and capitalize. If it were done by a farmer, would you be confusing the investments that an initial establishment requires with his annual expenditure? However, this major difference in situation leads, according to your figures, to an additional expenditure of only three francs for each citizen of the union. Is this excess genuine? No, according to your own data. This may surprise you, since you have set at thirty-six francs the contribution by each American and thirty-three francs that of each Frenchman. Well, 36 = 33 + 3 is good arithmetic.——Yes, but in political economy, thirty-three is oft en worth more than thirty-six. See for yourself. Money, in comparison with labor and goods, is not as valuable in the United States as it is in France. You yourself set a day’s pay at four francs fifty centimes in the United States and at one franc fifty centimes in France. The result, I believe, is that an American pays thirty-six francs with eight days’ work, whereas a Frenchman needs twenty-two days’ work to pay thirty-three francs. It is true that you say that people buy forced labor from each other in the United States for three francs and that consequently the price of a day’s work ought to be set at three francs there.——There are two answers to this. Forced labor is bought in France for one franc (for we also have forced labor, about which you do not speak) and then, if a day’s work in the United States is worth only three francs the Americans no longer pay thirty-six francs since, to reach this figure, you have raised to four francs fifty centimes all the days that these citizens devote to fulfilling their military obligations, their forced labor, their jury service, etc. This is not the only subtle difference you have used to raise the annual contribution of each American to thirty-six francs. You impute to the government of the United States expenses that it is not concerned with in the slightest. To justify this strange method of proceeding, you say that these expenses are no less borne by the citizens. But is it not a question of determining which are the voluntary expenses of the citizens and which are the expenditures of the government? A government is instituted to fulfill certain functions. When it exceeds its attributions, it has to appeal to the citizens’ purses and thus reduce the portion of revenue that was freely at their disposition. It becomes simultaneously a plunderer and oppressor. A nation that is wise enough to oblige its government to limit itself to guaranteeing security to each person and that spends only what is absolutely essential to this consumes the remainder of its revenue in accordance with its particular talents, its needs, and its inclinations. But in a nation in which the government interferes in everything, nothing is spent by itself and for its own benefit, but it is spent by the government and for the government, and if the French public thinks as you do, sir, if it cares little that its wealth goes through the hands of functionaries, I do not lose the hope that one day we will all be lodged, fed, and clothed at the state’s expense. These are things that cost us something and, according to you, it is of little importance whether we procure them through taxation or through direct purchase. The importance that our ministers give this opinion convinces me that we will soon have clothes produced by them, just as we have priests, lawyers, teachers, doctors, horses, and tobacco of their fashioning. Yours, etc.Frédéric Bastiat[22. ](Paillottet’s note) See, in vol. 4, the pamphlet titled The Law, in particular the passage on pages 381 to 386. (OC, vol. 4, “La Loi,” pp. 381–86.) [See also “The Law,” p. 107 in this volume.] [23. ](Paillottet’s note) Among the author’s manuscripts we find the following thought, which refers to the particular subject he is dealing with here: “Why are our finances in a mess?”“Because, for the representatives, there is nothing easier than to vote for an item of expenditure and nothing harder than to vote for an item of revenue.”“If you prefer it, because salaries are very pleasant and taxes very hard.”“I know another reason.”“Everyone wants to live at the state’s expense, and we forget that the state lives at the expense of everyone.” [24. ](Paillottet’s note) An allusion to the inept accusation made against the free traders that they had sold themselves to England. [25. ]German city to which some aristocrats had emigrated after 1790. They had tried to organize a counterrevolutionary army under the prince de Condé. See also the entry for “Bourbon, Louis Joseph de,” in the Glossary of Persons. [26. ]Some American vessels were seized irregularly between 1806 and 1812. In July 1831, the French government agreed to pay twenty-five million francs to the United States. In April 1834, the parliament had not yet ratified the agreement! Following a complaint by President Jackson and a mediation by Great Britain, a new agreement was signed in 1834. [27. ]Mayotte is part of French overseas territory and belongs to the Comoro Islands, off the northwest coast of Madagascar. Nosibé is a town on the northern side of Madagascar. [28. ]Paul-Louis Cornier. [29. ]A slight mistake: the election took place on 10 December. [30. ]It is not clear what Bastiat is saying here. He uses part of a French proverb, “chacun chez soi et les vaches seront bien gardées” (each in their own home and the cows will be well guarded). One might compare it to the English idea of “good fences make good neighbors,” but we have used the proverb “every man’s home is his castle” to be closer to Bastiat’s idea about the role of force and coercion in disrupting social bonds. [1. ](Paillottet’s note) This unprepared talk was delivered to the Legislative Assembly on 12 December 1849. [2. ]Inherited from the First Empire, taxes on alcoholic beverages had three com ponents:
[3. ]The “exercise” was a control carried out by the tax officials at the wholesalers. [4. ]The inventory was drawn up in order to check the honesty of producers’ declarations of crops. [5. ]Saint-Sever. [6. ]The “amalgamation taxes” were a combination of taxes introduced by Napoléon under the name “droits réunis.” [7. ](Paillottet’s note) It can be said that taxpayers cry out instinctively against the weight of taxes, for few of them know exactly what it costs them to be governed. We are fully aware of our share of land tax, but not what consumer taxes take from us. I have always thought that nothing would be more favorable to progress in our constitutional knowledge and behavior than a system of individual accounts, through which each person would know the amount and destination of his contribution.
[8. ]Catholic and Protestant priests and Jewish rabbis were paid by the state (until 1905). [9. ]After the pronunciamento of 1 January 1822, and the ensuing troubles, France, mandated by the Verona Congress (October 1822), conducted a military intervention in Spain. [10. ]The National Assembly sent troops to restore the pope in Rome while protecting the new republic. Nevertheless, the new Roman republic fell after a month of fighting. Bastiat, however, makes a mistake: this happened in April 1849, not in 1848. [11. ]See “Note on the Translation,” pp. xi–xiv, and “Bastiat’s Political Writings: Anecdotes and Reflections,” pp. 401–15, both in this volume. [1. ](Paillottet’s note) Articles 413, 415, and 416 of the penal code punished unions between employers and those between workers, though in a very inequitable way. [Paillottet may be mistaken here, as Bastiat refers to Article 414, not 413, in the course of his speech.] A proposal to abrogate these three articles had been sent back by the Legislative Assembly for examination by a commission [presided over by M. de Vatismenil] that judged the abrogation inadmissible and considered that it was essential to maintain the repressive dispositions, while amending them to make them impartial. [2. ]The law of 1800 forbade workers’ unions. They nonetheless developed as secret societies and routinely practiced violent action. Violence increased by 1822, caused by a sharp increase in food prices (43 percent in two years). A parliamentary commission, headed by Joseph Hume, proposed a radical modification authorizing unions but forbidding coercion or violence. The law was enacted in 1824. Unions flourished anew, but some violent demonstrations erupted again in Glasgow, Dublin, and London. A new law was enacted in 1825. It confirmed the freedom of association, but limited it through more specific definitions of offences. [3. ]The deputies, all former workers, who put before the Assembly the initial proposal to abrogate Articles 414, 415, and 416 of the penal code (see p. 348, note 1 ). [4. ]As Bastiat notes, many conservatives opposed the right of workers to voluntarily form trades unions (or “labor unions” in American English), but he argued that the right to associate belonged to factory owners as well as to the people who worked in their factories as long as there was no resort to violence by either party. In England, trades unions had been severely repressed until 1824 and were not fully decriminalized until 1867. The 1830s saw several efforts to create a nationwide association of trades unions, the first being the National Association for the Protection of Labour, which was formed in 1830 and which at its peak a few years later had joined together some 150 unions with a combined membership of twenty thousand to thirty thousand. Robert Owen also attempted something similar with his Grand National Consolidated Trades Union in 1834. [5. ]This section and the following ones refer to the position of Richard Cobden and the Anti–Corn Law League. See also the entry for “Anti–Corn Law League” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms. [6. ]Bastiat’s pamphlet Capital and Rent (OC, vol. 5, p. 23, “Capital et Rente”) appeared in February 1849 and aroused the anger of the anarchist socialist writer Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, who attacked it vehemently in his journal Le Peuple. Bastiat requested the right to reply to Proudhon’s criticism of an individual’s right to charge interest, and there was a back and forth of articles in the journal until Proudhon suddenly ended the exchange. A short time later Bastiat published the exchange along with a new conclusion by himself in the book Gratuité du crédit (1850) (OC, vol. 5, p. 94, “Gratuité du crédit”). [1. ](Paillottet’s note) At the session of the Legislative Assembly on 1 April 1850, during the discussions on the budget for state education, M. Mortimer-Ternaux, a representative of the people, put forward as an amendment a reduction of three hundred thousand francs in expenditure on lycées and secondary schools, the establishments frequented by the children of the middle classes. [1. ](Paillottet’s note) This article, published in March 1849, was reprinted in 1850, a few months before the author’s death. [Toward the end of Bastiat’s life, his health was failing to the point where he could no longer speak in the Chamber, and so in March 1849 he distributed his would-be speech in pamphlet form to his friends and colleagues.] The views he developed in it were deeply rooted in his mind, as can be seen in his “Letter to M. Larnac” dating from 1846 in vol. 1, as well as in the article written in 1830 titled “To the Electors of the Département of the Landes.” (OC, vol. 1, p. 480, “À M. Larnac, député des Landes,” and vol. 1, p. 217, “Aux électeurs du département des Landes.”) [2. ]Bastiat distributed this pamphlet to his colleagues, in March 1849, during the debate on the draft of an electoral bill prepared by a commission of fifteen members directed by Adolphe Billault. A prior discussion had taken place in June 1848. At that time Bastiat had proposed the following amendment, which was rejected: “Civil servants who are elected deputies will not exercise their function during their mandates. . . . No deputy will be appointed to public functions during his mandate.” [3. ]Article 28 of the Constitution stipulated, “Any paid public function is incompatible with the mandate of people’s representative. No member of the National Assembly may be assigned or promoted to salaried public functions whose incumbents are appointed by the executive power. Exceptions will be determined by an organic law.” [4. ]To be eligible one had to pay personal income taxes at least equal to five hundred francs, which drastically limited the number of potential candidates. [5. ]Corruption was one of the plagues of the July Monarchy, more particularly under the Guizot government. On 18 July 1847, in a resounding speech, Lamartine announced, “The revolution of public conscience, the revolution of contempt.” [6. ](Paillottet’s note) See pages 10 and 11 in vol. 4, chapter 17 in vol. 6, and pages 443ff. in this volume. (OC, vol. 4, “Abondance, disette,” pp. 10 and 11; vol. 6, p. 535, “Services privés, service public”; and vol. 5, p. 407, “Paix et liberté ou le budget républicain,” pp. 443ff. [7. ]During the discussion of the March 1849 law, on 26 February, Bastiat had indeed proposed an amendment that he justified in this way: “Deputies should be only deputies, and should not be appointed to any position by the executive power. If it so happened that some exceptions were found to be justified, a minister’s position should never be such an exception, as the greatest plague of a government is the possibility for a deputy to become a minister.” [8. ]Under the July Monarchy, any deputy who accepted a remunerated public function had to return to his electors to get their permission to combine the two functions. [9. ]The 1791 Constitution stipulated that ministers had to be chosen by the king outside the Assembly. [10. ]“The major premise is untrue.” [11. ]A character from the then-famous poem “Orlando furioso,” by Ludovico Ariosto (1474–1533). Orlando has lost his mind. Astolphe cures him with a bottle brought back from the moon and given to him by Saint John the Evangelist. [12. ]Article 41 of the Constitution stipulated that no law could be voted before three deliberations had taken place at intervals of more than five days. The third deliberation of the draft of electoral legislation took place from 11 to 14 March 1849. [13. ]“Through right and wrong.” [14. ]The terms Whigs and Tories had appeared by 1640 in the English political vocabulary. While they are still in use today, they were formally replaced in the early nineteenth century by the terms liberals and conservatives. See also the entry for “Whig and Tory” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms. [15. ]Spain granted permission to England to send a commercial vessel to her American colonies once a year but kept the right to inspect English vessels to avoid smuggling. [16. ]Bastiat is referring to the fact that the troops of King George II (elector of Hanover) were subsidized by the English government. [17. ]Thomas Pelham-Holles and Henry Pelham. [18. ]Charles Edward Stuart. [19. ]Henry Fox. [20. ]William Pitt (the Younger). [21. ]Charles James Fox. [22. ]Frederick North. [23. ]Charles James Fox. [24. ]Pitt the Younger. [25. ]After 1788 George III started to display signs of mental illness. [26. ]Pitt the Younger attempted until his death to eliminate discrimination against Catholics. [27. ]The Eden-Rayneval Treaty (from the names of the two negotiators), a commercial treaty finally signed in 1788. [28. ]A reference to the countries that the French had formally administered. Molé was minister of foreign affairs during the July Monarchy (1836) and was instrumental in withdrawing the French garrison from the Italian city of Ancona, where the French had been since it was first occupied in 1797, at which time Ancona declared itself to be a revolutionary municipality. Until Italy became a unified nation state, Austria and France were the dominant European powers in the northern part of Italy. [29. ]In 1842 Tahiti was a French protectorate. Following incidents with English ships, Admiral Dupetit-Thouars transformed it into a territory of “direct sovereignty” and expelled the British consul George Pritchard, a Protestant minister hostile to the French, chiefly on account of their Catholicism. This created tension between London and Paris. The latter disavowed the admiral on 24 February 1844. [30. ]A brief conflict opposed France to Morocco in 1844 because Morocco refused to sign the Treaty of Tangiers, which allowed cruisers of the signatory states to control merchant ships in order to check for slaves. This “right of search” did not fail to raise trouble between France and England for a while, as English cruisers, outnumbering those of other nations, exerted a de facto police of the seas. For “right of search,” see also the entry for “Slavery” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms. [31. ]France supported Mehemet Ali, pasha (governor) of Egypt, in his views on Syria, part of the Ottoman Empire. England and Russia supported the sultan. [32. ]The “right of search” refers to the disputed and resented policy of the British navy of stopping and searching suspected slave ships on the high seas. See also the entry for “Slavery” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms. [33. ]Following the 1840 diplomatic crisis, the government had fortifications built around Paris. [34. ]“You shall be as gods.” [35. ]“All is well.” [36. ]“It will be argued.” [Nicolas Boileau-Despréaux (1636–1711), Satire X, Œuvres (1821), vol. 1, p. 293.] [37. ]See the entry for “Slavery” in the Glossary of Subjects and Terms. [38. ]The 1848 Constitution did not provide any means for resolving a conflict between the president of the republic and the Assembly. The president could not dissolve the Assembly; the Assembly could not overthrow the president (short of extraordinary circumstances). [39. ]The president was elected for four years; the Assembly, for three years. [1. ]The Société d’économie politique became the main organization that brought like-minded classical liberals together for discussion and debate. See Breton, “The Société d’économie politique of Paris (1842–1914),” pp. 53–69. [2. ]Molinari wrote a book review of the collection of letters Bastiat wrote to the Cheuvreux family in Le Journal des économistes. See Molinari, “Frédéric Bastiat: Lettres d’un habitant des Landes.” [3. ]Bastiat, “L’État,” Le Journal des débats, 25 September 1848, pp. 1–2. See also “The State,” p. 93 in this volume. [4. ]See “The State,” p. 97, in this volume. [5. ]Société d’économie politique, “Séance du 10 janvier 1850,” in Annales de la société d’économie politique. [6. ]Coquelin, “L’État,” in the Dictionnaire de l’économie politique. [7. ]Letort, “Société d’économie politique: Réunion du 5 août 1899.” [8. ]See Garnier, “Nécrologie. Guillaumin. Ses funérailles—sa vie et son œuvre”; and Levan-Lemesle, “Guillaumin, éditeur d’économie politique 1801–1864.” [9. ]Coquelin, Dictionnaire de l’économie politique. [10. ]For some details on Paillottet’s life see Passy, “Nécrologie. Prosper Paillottet.” [11. ]Bastiat’s introduction to this book lays out his thoughts on Cobden’s free-trade movement and its relevance for France. (OC, vol. 3, p. 1, “Introduction.”) [12. ]Bastiat, Harmonies économiques. [13. ]Bastiat, Œuvres complètes de Frédéric Bastiat. [14. ]Paillottet, Des Conseils de prud’hommes, and De l’encouragement aux associations ouvrières. [15. ]Paillottet, De la propriété intellectuelle. [16. ]Paillottet, Des idées religieuses. [17. ]See Lukes, Key Concepts in the Social Sciences: Individualism; and Schatz, L’Individualisme économique et social. [18. ]Bouctot, “Individualisme,” in Nouveau dictionnaire de économie politique, vol. 2, pp. 64–66. [19. ]Other manifestations of the term were “laissez faire, laissez passer”; “laissez-nous faire”; and “Laissez-nous faire. Ne pas trop gouverner.” See Oncken, Die Maxime laissez faire et laisser passez. [20. ]Garnier, “Laissez faire, laissez passer” in Coquelin, Dictionnaire de l’économie politique, vol. 2, p. 19. [21. ]See Hart, Class, Slavery, and the Industrialist Theory of History in French Liberal Thought, 1814–1830. [22. ]See Dunoyer, L’Industrie et la morale considérées dans leurs rapports avec la liberté. See also the entries for “Say, Jean-Baptiste”; “Comte, Charles”; and “Dunoyer, Barthélémy-Pierre-Joseph-Charles,” in the Glossary of Persons. [23. ]See “Property and Plunder,” pp. 147–84 in this volume. [24. ]See Le Droit au travail à l’Assemblée Nationale. See also Faucher, “Droit au travail” in Coquelin, Dictionnaire de l’économie politique, vol. 1. pp. 605–19. [25. ]Le Droit au travail à l’ Assemblée Nationale, pp. 373–74. [26. ]Passy, “Utopie,” in Coquelin, Dictionnaire de l’économie politique, vol. 2, pp. 798–803. [27. ]See also Reybaud, Études sur les réformateurs contemporains. [28. ]See Condorcet’s Esquisse d’un tableau historique des progrès de l’esprit humain, suivie de Réflexions sur l’esclavage des nègres. (This is a French edition to which Bastiat might have had access.) [29. ]Molinari first presented his ideas on the private provision of public goods in an article in Le Journal des économistes in February 1849, which sparked a very spirited debate in the Société d’économie politique. He was still arguing for a variation of this idea fifty years later. See Molinari, “De la production de la sécurité,” Les Soirées de la rue Saint-Lazare, and Esquisse de l’organisation politique et économique de la société future. [30. ]“Séance du septembre 1850.” [31. ]See “Property and Plunder,” p. 159 in this volume. [32. ]“The Miller and Sans-Souci” first appeared in Contes et opuscules en vers et en prose (1800) and was reprinted in Œuvres de François-Guillaume-Jean-Stanislas Andrieux, vol. 3, pp. 205–8. [33. ]Augustine, City of God, bk. 4, ch. 4, in St. Augustin’s City of God and Christian Doctrine. |

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