ON THE RIGHT OF COERCION IN GENERAL.
How much, during the last century, was said against intolerance! A
philosophy less superficial than that which then prevailed would have
reflected a little more on a fact which may be appreciated in different
ways, but the existence of which cannot be denied. In Greece, Socrates
died drinking hemlock. Rome, whose tolerance has been so much vaunted,
tolerated, indeed, foreign gods; but these were only foreign in name,
since they formed a part of that system of pantheism which was the
foundation of the Roman religion; gods, who, in order to be declared
gods of Rome, only needed the mere formality, as it were, of receiving
the name of citizens. But Rome did not admit the gods of Egypt any
more than the Jewish or Christian religion. She had, no doubt, many
false ideas with respect to these religions; but she was sufficiently
acquainted with them to know that they were essentially different
from her own. The history of the Pagan emperors is the history of
the persecution of the Church; as soon as they became Christians, a
system of penal legislation was commenced against those who differed
from the religion of the state. In subsequent centuries, intolerance
continued under various forms; it has been perpetuated down to our
times, and we are not so free from it as some would wish to make us
believe. The emancipation of Catholics in England is but of recent
date; the violent disputes of the Prussian government with the Pope,
on the subject of certain arbitrary acts of that government against
the Catholic religion, are of yesterday; the question of Argau, in
Switzerland, is still pending; and the persecution of Catholicity by
the Russian government is pursued in as scandalous a manner as at any
former period. Thus it is with religious sects. As to the toleration of
the _humane_ philosophers of the 18th century, it was exemplified in
Robespierre.
Every government professing a religion is more or less intolerant
towards those which it does not profess; and this intolerance is
diminished or destroyed, only when the professors of the obnoxious
religions are either feared on account of their great power, or
despised on account of their weakness. Apply to all times and countries
the rule which we have just laid down, you will everywhere find it
exact; it is an abridgment of the history of governments in their
relations with religions. The Protestant government of England has
always been intolerant toward Catholics; and it will continue to be so,
more or less, according to circumstances. The governments of Russia
and Prussia will continue to act as they have done up to this time,
with the exception of modifications required by difference of times;
in the same way, in countries where Catholicity prevails, the exercise
of the Protestant worship will always be more or less interfered with.
I shall be told of the instance of France as a proof of the contrary;
in that country, where the immense majority profess the Catholic
religion, other worships are allowed, without any disposition on the
part of the state to disturb them. This toleration will perhaps be
attributed to public opinion; it comes, I think, from this, that no
fixed principle prevails there in the government: all the policy of
France, internal and external, is a constant compromise to get out
of difficulties in the best possible way. This is shown by facts;
it appears from the well-known opinions of the small number of men
who, for some years, have ruled the destinies of France. It has been
attempted to establish in principle universal toleration, and refuse
to government the right of violating consciences in religious matters;
nevertheless, in spite of all that has been said, philosophers have
not been able to make a very clear exposition of their principle,
still less have they been able to procure its general adoption as a
system in the government of states. In order to show that the thing is
not quite so simple as has been supposed, I will beg leave to ask a
few questions of these _soi-disant_ philosophers. If a religion which
required human sacrifices were established in your country, would you
tolerate it? No. And why? Because we cannot tolerate such a crime.
But then you will be intolerant; you will violate the consciences of
others, by proscribing, as a crime, what in their eyes is a homage to
the Divinity. Thus thought many nations of old, and so think some now.
By what right do you make your conscience prevail over theirs?--It
matters not; we shall be intolerant, but our intolerance will be for
the good of humanity.--I applaud your conduct; but you cannot deny that
it is a case in which intolerance with respect to a religion appears to
you a right and a duty. Still further: if you proscribe the exercise
of this atrocious worship, would you allow the doctrine to be taught
which preaches as holy and salutary the practice of human sacrifices?
No; for that would be permitting the teaching of murder. Very well,
but you must acknowledge that this is a doctrine with respect to
which you have a right to be, and are obliged to be, intolerant. Let
us pursue our subject. You are aware, no doubt, of the sacrifices
offered in antiquity to the goddess of Love, and the infamous worship
which was paid to her in the temples of Babylon and Corinth. If such
a worship reappeared among you, would you tolerate it? No; for it is
contrary to the sacred laws of modesty. Would you allow the doctrine
on which it was based to be taught? No; for the same reason. This,
then, is another case in which you believe you have the right and the
obligation to violate the consciences of others; and the only reason
you can assign for it is, that you are compelled to do so by your own
conscience. Moreover, suppose that some men, over-excited by reading
the Bible, desired to establish a new Christianity, in imitation of
Mathew of Haarlem or John of Leyden; suppose that these sectaries began
to propagate their doctrines, to assemble together in bodies, and that
their fanatical declamation seduced a portion of the people, would you
tolerate this new religion? No; for these men might renew the bloody
scenes of Germany in the 16th century, when, in the name of God, and
to fulfil, as they said, the order of the Most High, the Anabaptists
invaded all property, destroyed all existing power, and spread
everywhere desolation and death. This would be to act with as much
justice as prudence; but you cannot deny that you would thereby commit
an act of intolerance. What, then, becomes of universal toleration,
that principle so evident, so predominant, if you are compelled at
every step to limit, and I will say more, to lay it aside, and act in a
way diametrically opposite to it? You will say that the security of the
state, the good order of society, and public morality compel you to act
in this way. But then, what sort of a principle is it that, in certain
cases, is in opposition to the interests of morality and to society,
and to the safety of the state? Do you think that the men against whom
you declaim did not intend also to protect these interests, by acting
with that intolerance which is so revolting to you?
It has been acknowledged at all times and in all countries, as an
incontestable principle, that the public authority has, in certain
cases, the right of prohibiting certain acts, in violation of the
consciences of individuals who claim the right of performing them.
If the constant testimony of history were not enough, at least the
dialogue which we have just held ought to convince us of this truth;
we have seen that the most ardent advocates of tolerance may well be
compelled, in certain cases, to be intolerant. They would be obliged to
be so in the name of humanity, of modesty, of public order; universal
toleration, then, with respect to doctrines and religions--that
toleration which is proclaimed as the duty of every government--is an
error; it is a theory which cannot be put in practice. We have clearly
shown that intolerance has always been, and still is, a principle
recognised by all governments, and the application of which, more or
less indulgent or severe, depends on circumstances, and above all, on
the particular point of view in which the government considers things.
A great question of right now presents itself--a question which seems,
at first sight, to require to be solved by condemning all intolerance,
both with respect to doctrines and acts; but which, when thoroughly
examined, leads to a very different result. If we grant that the
mind is incapable of completely removing the difficulty by means of
direct reasoning, it is not the less certain that indirect means, and
the reasoning called _ad absurdum_, are here sufficient to show us
the truth, at least as far as it is necessary for us to know it as
a guide for human prudence, always uncertain. The question is this:
"By what right do you hinder a man from professing a doctrine, and
acting in conformity with it, if he is convinced that it is true, and
that he only fulfils his duty, or exercises a right, by acting as
it prescribes?" In order to prevent the prohibition being vain and
ridiculous, there must be a penalty attached to it; now, if you inflict
this penalty, you punish a man who, according to his own conscience,
is innocent. Punishment by the hand of justice supposes culpability;
and no one is culpable without being so first in his conscience.
Culpability has its root in the conscience; and we cannot be
responsible for the violation of a law, unless that law has addressed
us through our conscience. If our conscience tells us that an action is
bad, we cannot perform it, whatever may be the injunctions of the law
which prescribes it; on the contrary, if conscience tells us that an
action is a duty, we cannot omit it, whatever may be the prohibitions
of the law. This is, in a few words, and in all its force, the whole
argument that can be alleged against intolerance in regard to doctrines
and facts emanating from them. Let us now see what is the real value of
these observations, apparently so conclusive.
It is apparent that the admission of this principle would render
impossible the punishment of any political crime. Brutus, when
plunging his dagger into the heart of Cæsar; Jacques Clement, when he
assassinated Henry III., acted, no doubt, under the influence of an
excitement of mind, which made them view their attempts as deeds of
heroism; and yet, if they had both been brought before a tribunal,
would you have thought them entitled to impunity--the one on account
of his love of country, and the other on account of his zeal for
religion? Most political crimes are committed under a conviction of
doing well; and I do not speak merely of those times of trouble, when
men of parties the most opposed are fully persuaded that they have
right on their side. Conspiracies contrived against governments in
times of peace are generally the work of some individuals who look
upon them as illegal and tyrannical; when working to overthrow them,
they are acting in conformity with their own principles. Judges punish
them justly when they inflict on them the penalties appointed by
legislators; and yet, neither legislators when they decree the penalty,
nor the judges when they inflict it, are, or can be, ignorant of the
condition of mind of the delinquent who has violated the law. It may be
said, that compassion and indulgence with respect to political crimes
increase every day, for these reasons. I shall reply, that if we lay
down the principle that human justice has not the right to punish,
when the delinquent acts according to his conviction, we must not
only mitigate our punishments, but even abolish them. In this case,
capital punishment would be a real murder, a fine a robbery, and
other penalties so many acts of violence. I shall remark in passing,
that it is not true that severity towards political crimes diminishes
as much as it is said to do; the history of Europe of late years
affords us some proofs to the contrary. We do not now see those cruel
punishments which were in use at other times; but that is not owing
to the conscience of the criminal being considered by the judge, but
to the improvement of manners, which, being everywhere diffused, has
necessarily influenced penal legislation. It is extraordinary that so
much severity has been preserved in laws relating to political crimes,
when so great a number of legislators among the different nations of
Europe knew well that they themselves, at other times, had committed
the same crimes. And there is no doubt that more than one man, in the
discussion of certain penal laws, has inclined to indulgence, from the
presentiment that these very laws might one day apply to himself. The
impunity of political crimes would bring about the subversion of social
order, by rendering all government impossible. Without dwelling longer
on the fatal results which this doctrine would have, let us observe,
that the benefit of impunity in favor of the illusions of conscience
would not be due to political crimes alone, but would be applicable
also to those of an ordinary kind. Offences against property are crimes
of this nature; and yet we know that many at former periods regarded,
and that unfortunately some still regard, property as a usurpation and
an injustice. Offences against the sanctity of marriage are ordinarily
considered crimes; and yet have there not been sects in whose sight
marriage was unlawful, and others who have desired, and still
desire, a community of women? The sacred laws of modesty and respect
for innocence have alike been regarded by some sects as an unjust
infringement of the liberty of man; to violate these laws, therefore,
was a meritorious action. At the time when the mistaken ideas and blind
fanaticism of the men who professed these principles were undoubted,
would any one have been found to deny the justice of the chastisement
which was inflicted on them when, in pursuance of their doctrines, they
committed a crime, or even when they had the audacity to diffuse their
fatal maxims in society?
If it were unjust to punish the criminal for acting according to his
conscience, all imaginable crimes would be permitted to the atheist,
the fatalist, the disciple of the doctrine of private interest; for by
destroying, as they do, the basis of all morality, these men do not
act against their consciences; they have none. If such an argument
were to hold good, how often would we have reason to charge tribunals
with injustice, when they inflict any punishment on men of this class.
By what right, we would say to magistrates, do you punish this man,
who, not admitting the existence of God, does not acknowledge himself
culpable in his own eyes, or consequently in yours? You have made a
law, by virtue of which you punish him; but this law has no power over
the conscience of this man, for you are his equals; and he does not
acknowledge the existence of any superior, to give you the power of
controlling his liberty. By what right do you punish another, who is
convinced that all his actions are the effect of necessary causes,
that free-will is a chimera, and who, in the action which you charge
on him as a crime, believes that he had no more power of restraining
himself than the wild beast, when he throws himself upon the prey
before his eyes, or upon any other animal that excites his fury? With
what justice do you punish him, who is persuaded that all morality is
a lie; that there is no other principle than individual interest; that
good and evil are nothing but this interest, well or ill understood?
If you make him undergo any punishment, it will not be because he is
culpable in his own conscience; you will punish him for being deceived
in his calculation, for having ill-understood the probable result of
the action which he was about to commit. Such are the necessary and
inevitable deductions from the doctrine, which refuses to the public
authority the power of punishing crimes committed in consequence of an
error of the mind.
But I shall be told that the right of punishment only extends to
actions, and not to doctrines; that actions ought to be subject to the
law, but that doctrines are entitled to unbounded liberty. Do you mean
doctrines shut up in the mind and not outwardly manifested? It is clear
that not only the right, but also the possibility of punishing them is
wanting, for God alone can tell the secrets of the heart of man. If
avowed doctrines are meant, then the principle is false; and we have
just shown that those who maintain it in theory, find it impossible to
reduce it to practice. In fine, we shall be told that, however absurd
in its results may be the doctrine which we have been combating, it
is still impossible to justify the punishment of an action which was
ordered or authorized by the conscience of the man who committed it.
How is this difficulty to be solved? How is this great obstacle to be
removed? Is it lawful in any case to treat as culpable the man who is
not so at the tribunal of his own conscience?
Although this question seems entirely to turn upon some point on which
men of all opinions are agreed, there is nevertheless a wide difference
in this respect between Catholics on one side and unbelievers and
Protestants on the other. The first lay it down as an incontestable
principle, _that there are errors of the understanding which are
faults_; the others, on the contrary, think, _that all errors of the
understanding are innocent_. The first consider error in regard to
great moral and religious truths, as one of the gravest offences which
man can commit against God; their opponents look upon errors of this
kind with great indulgence, and they ought to do so in order to be
consistent. Catholics admit the possibility of invincible ignorance
with respect to some very important truths; but with them this
possibility is limited to certain circumstances, out of which they
declare man to be culpable: their opponents constantly extol liberty of
thought, without any other restriction than that imposed by the taste
of each one in particular; they constantly affirm that man is free to
hold the opinions which he thinks proper; they have gone so far as to
persuade their followers that there are no culpable errors or opinions,
that man is not obliged to search into the secret recesses of his soul,
to make sure that there are no secret causes which induce him to reject
the truth; they have in the end monstrously confounded physical with
moral liberty of thought; they have banished from opinions the ideas of
lawful and unlawful, and have given men to understand that such ideas
are not applicable to thought. That is to say, in the order of ideas,
they have confounded right with fact, declaring, in this respect, the
uselessness and incompetency of all laws, divine and human. Senseless
men! as if it were possible for that which is most noble and elevated
in human nature to be exempt from all rule; as if it were possible for
the element which makes man the king of the creation, to be exempted
from concurring in the ineffable harmony of all parts of the universe
with themselves and with God; as if this harmony could exist, or even
be conceived in man, unless it were declared to be the first of human
obligations to adhere constantly to truth.
This is one of the profound reasons which justify the Catholic Church,
when she considers the sin of heresy as one of the greatest that man
can commit. You, who smile, with pity and contempt at these words,
_the sin of heresy_; you, who consider this doctrine as the invention
of priests to rule over consciences, by retrenching the liberty of
thought; by what right do you claim the power of condemning heresies
which are opposed to your orthodoxy? By what right do you condemn those
societies that profess opinions hostile to property, public order,
and the existence of authority? If the thought of man is free, if you
cannot attempt to restrain it without violating sacred rights, if it
is an absurdity and a contradiction to wish to oblige a man to act
against his conscience, or disobey its dictates--why do you interfere
with those men who desire to destroy the existing state of society?
Why baffle, why oppose those dark conspiracies, which, from time to
time, send one of their members to assassinate a king? You invoke your
convictions to declare unjust and cruel the intolerance which has been
practised at certain times against your enemies; but you must remember
that such societies and such men can also invoke their convictions. You
say that the doctrines of the Church are human inventions; they say
that the doctrines prevailing in society are also human inventions. You
say that the ancient social order was a monopoly; they say the present
social order is a monopoly. In your eyes, the ancient authorities
were tyrannical; in theirs the present ones are so. You pretended to
destroy what existed, in order to found new institutions conducive to
the good of humanity; to-day these men hold the same language. You
have proclaimed holy the war which was waged against ancient power;
they proclaim holy the war against present power. When you availed
yourselves of the means which offered themselves, you pretended that
necessity rendered them legitimate; they declare to be not less
legitimate the only means which they possess, that of combinations, of
preparing for their opportunity, and of hastening it by assassinating
great men. You have pretended to make all opinions respected, even
atheism, and you have taught that nobody has a right to prevent your
acting in conformity with your principles; but the fanatics in question
have also their horrible principles and their dreadful convictions.
Do you require a proof of this? See them amid the gayety of public
celebrations, glide, pale and gloomy, among the joyful multitude,
choose the fitting moment to cast desolation over a royal family, and
cover a nation with mourning, while they accumulate on their own heads
the public execration, certain, moreover, of finishing their lives
on the scaffold. But our adversaries will say, such convictions are
inexcusable. Yours are so also. All the difference is, that you have
contrived your ambitious and fatal systems amid ease and pleasure,
perhaps in opulence, and under the shadow of power, while they have
conceived their abominable doctrines in the bosom of obscurity,
poverty, misery, and despair.
Indeed, the inconsistency of some men is shocking to the last degree.
To ridicule all religions, to decry the spirituality and immortality
of the soul, and the existence of God, to overturn all morality, and
sap its deepest foundations, all this they have considered excusable,
and we may even say, worthy of praise; moreover, the writers who have
undertaken this fatal task are worthy of apotheosis; men must expel
the Divinity from his temples to place there the names and busts of
the leaders of their schools; under the vaults of splendid basilicas,
where repose the ashes of Christians awaiting the resurrection, they
must raise the mausoleum of Voltaire and Rousseau, in order that future
generations, when they descend into their dark and silent abodes, may
receive the inspirations of their genius. But have they, then, a right
to complain that property, and domestic life, and social order are
attacked? Property is sacred; but is it more sacred than God? However
great may be the importance of the truths relating to the family and
to society, are they of a superior order to the eternal principles of
morality, or rather, are they any thing more than the application of
these principles?
But let us resume the thread of our discourse. When the principle,
that there are culpable errors, is once established (a principle which
in practice, if not in theory, must be received by all men, but which
Catholicity alone can logically maintain in theory), it is easy to see
the reason of the punishments which human power decrees against the
propagation and teaching of certain doctrines; and we can understand
why it is legitimate to punish, without considering the conviction
that animated the culprit, the actions which are the result of his
doctrines. The law shows that this mortal error has existed, or can
exist; but in this case it declares the error itself to be culpable;
and if man adduces the testimony of his own conscience, the law
reminds him that it is his duty to rectify his conscience. Such is, in
truth, the foundation of a legislation which has appeared so unjust; a
foundation which it is necessary to point out, in order to vindicate
a great many human laws from a deep disgrace; for it would be a great
disgrace to claim the right of punishing a man who was really innocent.
Such an absurd right is so far from belonging to human justice, that it
does not belong even to God. The infinite justice of God would cease to
be what it is, if it could punish the innocent.
Perhaps another origin will be assigned for the right which governments
possess, of punishing the propagation of certain doctrines and the
actions committed in consequence of them, when the criminal has acted
from the deepest conviction. "Governments," it may be said, "act in
the name of society, which, like every being, possesses the right of
self-defence. There are certain doctrines which menace its existence;
it has, therefore, of necessity and right, the power of resisting those
who promulgate them." Such a reason, however plausible it may appear,
is liable to this grave objection, that it destroys at one blow the
idea of punishment and justice. To wound an aggressor in self-defence
is not to chastise but to resist him. If we consider society in this
point of view, the criminal led to punishment will no longer be a real
criminal, but the unfortunate victim of a rash and unequal struggle.
The voice of the judge condemning him will no longer be the august
voice of justice; his sentence will only be the act of society avenging
the attack made upon it. The word punishment will then assume quite
a different meaning; the gradations of it will depend entirely upon
calculations, and not on justice. We must remember this; if we suppose
that society, by virtue of the right of self-defence, inflicts a
punishment upon the man whom it considers quite innocent, it no longer
judges or condemns, but fights and struggles. That which is perfectly
suitable with respect to the relations between one society and another,
is in no way suitable to society in its relations with individuals. It
then appears like a combat between a giant and a pigmy. The giant takes
the pigmy in his hand, and crushes him against a stone.
The doctrine which I have just explained evidently shows the value
of the much vaunted principle of universal toleration; it has been
demonstrated that that principle is as impracticable in fact as it is
unsustainable in theory; consequently all the accusations made against
the Catholic Church on the subject of intolerance are overturned. It
has been clearly shown that intolerance is in some measure the right of
all public power; this has always been acknowledged; it is acknowledged
still, generally speaking, when philosophers, the partisans of
tolerance, attain to power. No doubt, governments have a thousand times
abused this principle; no doubt, more than once the truth has been
persecuted in virtue of it; but what do men not abuse? Their duty,
then, as good philosophers, was not to establish principles that cannot
be sustained, and are extremely dangerous; not to declaim to satiety
against the times and institutions which have preceded us; but to
endeavor to propagate sentiments of mildness and indulgence, and, above
all, not to impugn important truths, without which society cannot be
sustained, and which cannot be destroyed without abandoning the world
to the empire of force, and, consequently, to despotism and tyranny.
Men have attacked dogmas; but they have not been willing to see that
morality was intimately connected with dogmas, and that it was itself a
dogma. By proclaiming unbounded liberty of thought, they have asserted
the impeccability of the mind; error has ceased to figure among the
faults of which men can be guilty. They have forgotten that, in order
to _will_, it was necessary to _know_; and that to _will rightly_, it
was necessary to _know truly_. If we examine the greater part of the
errors of our hearts, we shall see that they have their source in a
misunderstanding; is it possible, then, that it should not be the duty
of man to preserve his mind from error? But since it has been said
that opinions are of little importance, that man is free to choose such
as please him, even in matters of religion and morality, truth has lost
its value; its intrinsic worth is no longer what it was in the eyes of
man; and too many consider themselves exempt from attempting to attain
it,--a deplorable condition of mind, which is one of the greatest evils
afflicting society.[25]