On the principle of democracy

There need not be much integrity for a monarchical or despotic government to maintain or sustain itself. The force of the laws in the one and the prince’s ever-raised arm in the other can rule or contain the whole. But in a popular state there must be an additional spring, which is VIRTUE.

What I say is confirmed by the entire body of history and is quite in conformity with the nature of things. For it is clear that less virtue is needed in a monarchy, where the one who sees to the execution of the laws judges himself above the laws, than in a popular government, where the one who sees to the execution of the laws feels that he is subject to them himself and that he will bear their weight.

It is also clear that the monarch who ceases to see to the execution of the laws, through bad counsel or negligence, may easily repair the damage; he has only to change his counsel or correct his own negligence. But in a popular government when the laws have ceased to be executed, as this can come only from the corruption of the republic, the state is already lost.

It was a fine spectacle in the last century to see the impotent attempts of the English to establish democracy among themselves. As those who took part in public affairs had no virtue at all, as their ambition was excited by the success of the most audacious one and the spirit of one faction was repressed only by the spirit of another, the government was constantly changing; the people, stunned, sought democracy and found it nowhere. Finally, after much motion and many shocks and jolts, they had to come to rest on the very government that had been proscribed.

When Sulla wanted to return liberty to Rome, it could no longer be accepted; Rome had but a weak remnant of virtue, and as it had ever less, instead of reawakening after Caeser, Tiberius, Caius,a Claudius, Nero, and Domitian, it became ever more enslaved; all the blows were struck against tyrants, none against tyranny.

The political men of Greece who lived under popular government recognized no other force to sustain it than virtue. Those of today speak to us only of manufacturing, commerce, finance,b wealth, and even luxury.

When that virtue ceases, ambition enters those hearts that can admit it, and avarice enters them all. Desires change their objects: that which one used to love, one loves no longer. One was free under the laws, one wants to be free against them. Each citizen is like a slave who has escaped from his master’s house. What was a maxim is now called severity; what was a rule is now called constraint;c what was vigilance is now called fear. There, frugality, not the desire to possess, is avarice. Formerly the goods of individuals made up the public treasury; the public treasury has now become the patrimony of individuals. The republic is a cast-off husk, and its strength is no more than the power of a few citizens and the license of all.

There were the same forces in Athens when it dominated with so much glory and when it served with so much shame. It had 20,000 citizens3 when it defended the Greeks against the Persians, when it disputed for empire with Lacedaemonia, and when it attacked Sicily. It had 20,000 when Demetrius of Phalereus enumerated them4 as one counts slaves in a market. When Philip dared dominate in Greece, when he appeared at the gates of Athens,5 Athens had as yet lost only time. In Demosthenes one may see how much trouble was required to reawaken it; Philip was feared as the enemy not of liberty but of pleasures.6 This town, which had resisted in spite of so many defeats, which had been reborn after its destructions, was defeated at Chaeronea and was defeated forever. What does it matter that Philip returns all the prisoners? He does not return men. It was always as easy to triumph over the forces of Athens as it was difficult to triumph over its virtue.

How could Carthage have sustained itself? When Hannibal, as praetor, wanted to keep the magistrates from pillaging the republic, did they not go and accuse him before the Romans? Unhappy men, who wanted to be citizens without a city and to owe their wealth to the hand of their destroyers! Soon Rome asked them to send three hundred of the principal citizens of Carthage as hostages; Rome made them surrender their arms and ships and then declared war on them. Given the things that a disarmed Carthage did from despair,7 one may judge what it could have done with its virtue when it had its full force.

MONTESQUIEU
The Spirit of the Laws