ON RESISTANCE TO DE FACTO GOVERNMENTS.
The questions hitherto discussed relating to the obedience due to power
are very grave; but those of resistance to it are still more important.
Is it allowable, under any circumstances, in any supposition, to
resist the civil power _by physical force_? Does there nowhere exist a
deposing power? How far do Catholic doctrines extend on this subject?
Such are the extreme points we purpose to discuss. According to one
system, obedience is due to a government from the very fact of its
existence, even on the supposition that its existence is illegitimate.
Now, it is important to demonstrate, at the very outset, the
unsoundness of this doctrine, which is contrary to right reason, and
has never been taught by Catholicity. In preaching obedience "to the
powers that be," the Church speaks of powers that have a legitimate
existence. The absurdity, that a simple fact can create right, can
never become a dogma of Catholicity. Were it true that resistance would
be unlawful, it would be equally true that an illegitimate government
has a right to command; for the obligation to obey is correlative
with the right to command; and an illegitimate government would,
consequently, become legitimatised by the simple fact of its existence.
This would legitimatise all usurpations; the most heroic resistance
on the part of the people would be condemned; the world would be
abandoned to the mere rule of force. No; that degrading doctrine is not
true which derives legitimacy from usurpation; which says to a people
conquered and subjugated by any usurper whatever, "Obey your tyrant;
his rights are founded on force, and your obligation to him on your
weakness." No; there cannot be truth in a doctrine that would efface
from our history one of its brightest pages, that would entail disgrace
upon a nation taking up arms to expel an usurper, struggling for its
independence during a period of six years, and finally overthrowing
the conqueror of Europe. If Napoleon had succeeded in establishing his
power amongst us, the Spanish nation would still have maintained the
right on account of which it revolted in 1808; victory could not have
rendered usurpation legitimate. The victims of the second of May did
not legalise the command of Murat; and had even every corner of the
peninsula been made a theatre of horrors similar to those witnessed
on the Prado, the blood of martyred patriots, covering the usurper
and his satellites with everlasting infamy, would only have confirmed
the sacred right of revolting in defence of the throne, of national
independence. We must repeat it: the simple fact does not create a
right, either in private or public affairs; and so soon as such a
principle is acknowledged, every idea of reason and justice disappears
from the world. Those who may have wished to flatter governments with
so fatal a doctrine, were not aware that this was the very way to ruin
them, and to sow the seeds of usurpation and insurrection. What will
be safe here below if we admit the principle, that success insures
justice, and that the conqueror is always the rightful ruler? Is not
this throwing open a wide gate to ambition, and to every crime? Is it
not exciting men to forget every idea of right, reason, and justice,
to acknowledge no other rule than brute force? Governments protected
by so strange a doctrine would assuredly owe little gratitude to their
protectors: this, in fact, is no defence; it is an insult; it is more
of a cruel sarcasm than an apology. To what, indeed, does it amount,
and how would this doctrine sound? Why, as follows: "People, obey him
who commands you; you say his authority is usurped; we do not deny
it; but, by the very fact of his having attained his end, the usurper
has acquired a right. He is, indeed, a robber who has attacked you on
the highway; he has stolen your money; but, by the mere fact of your
not being able to resist him, and being forced to deliver to him your
purse, now that he is possessed of it, you ought to respect this money
as an inviolable property: such is your duty. It is a robbery; but this
robbery being a _consummated act_, you cannot now obtain redress for
it."
In this point of view the doctrine of _consummated facts_ appears
so much opposed to generally received ideas, that no reasonable man
can seriously accept it. I do not deny that there are cases in which
obedience, even to an illegitimate government, is to be recommended;
when, for instance, we foresee that resistance would be useless, that
it would only lead to new disorders, and to a greater effusion of
blood: but in recommending prudence to the people, let us not disguise
it under false doctrines--let us beware of calming the exasperation
of misfortune by circulating errors subversive of all governments,
of all society. It is worthy of remark, that all powers, even the
most illegitimate, have a truer instinct than that manifested by the
maintenance of such maxims. All powers in the first moment of their
existence, before commencing their operations, before proceeding to one
single act, proclaim their legitimacy. They seek it in right divine and
human, they establish it upon birth or election, they derive it from
historical titles, or the sudden development of extraordinary events;
but all tends to the same point, the pretension to legitimacy. They
never speak of the mere fact of their existence; from the instinct that
prompts their own preservation they learn better than to rely upon
such grounds, since to do so would be to annihilate their authority,
to destroy their prestige, to encourage revolt; in a word, to commit
self-destruction. We have here the most explicit condemnation of the
doctrine we are combating, for the most shameless usurpers have more
respect for good sense and the public conscience.
It sometimes happens that doctrines the most erroneous assume a
veil of gentleness and Christian meekness. We must overthrow the
arguments that might be employed against us, by the advocates of
blind submission to any power that happens to be established. "The
Scriptures," they will say, "prescribe to us obedience to the
authorities, without any distinction; the Christian, therefore, ought
not to make any distinction, but submit with resignation to such as he
finds established." In reply to this objection, I see the following
very decisive answers. 1. Illegitimate authority is no authority at
all; the idea of power involves the idea of right, without which
it is mere physical power, that is, _force_. When, therefore, the
Scriptures prescribe obedience to the authorities, it is the lawful
authorities that are implied. 2. The sacred text, in enjoining us
obedience to the civil power, tells us that it is ordained by God
Himself, that it is the minister of God Himself; and it is evident that
usurpation is never invested with so high a character. The usurper
is perhaps the instrument of Providence, _the scourge of Heaven_, as
Attila designated himself, but not the minister of God. 3. The sacred
Scriptures prescribe obedience to the subject in relation to the civil
power, in the same way as they prescribe it to the slave in relation
to his master. But what sort of masters are here implied? Evidently
such as exercised a legitimate dominion, as it was understood at the
time, conformable to the prevailing laws and customs; otherwise the
Scriptures would require obedience from such slaves as were reduced
to slavery by an abuse of power. Hence, as the obedience to masters
prescribed by the Scriptures does not deprive the slave unjustly
retained in servitude of his right, so also the obedience due to the
established authorities should be restricted to the lawful authorities,
and to cases in which prudence would dictate it in order to avoid
commotion and scandal.
In confirmation of the doctrine of mere _de facto_ government, the
conduct of the first Christians has been sometimes alleged. "They
submitted," it is said, "to the constituted authorities without
even inquiring whether they were legitimate or not. At this epoch
usurpations were frequent, the imperial throne was established by
force, its occupants one after another owed their elevation to military
insurrection, and to the assassination of their predecessors. We
find, nevertheless, that Christians never meddled with the question
of legitimacy; they respected the established power, and this power
failing, they submitted without murmuring to the new tyrant who had
usurped the throne." This argument, it cannot be denied, is very
plausible, and presents at first sight a serious difficulty; a few
reflections, however, suffice to show its extreme futility. In order
that an insurrection against an unlawful power may be legitimate and
prudent, those who undertake to overturn it should be sure of its
illegitimacy, should have in view the substitution of a lawful power,
and should count besides on the probability of the success of their
enterprise. If these conditions are not fulfilled, the insurrection
has no object; it is a mere fruitless attempt, an impotent revenge,
which, instead of being useful to society, only causes bloodshed, only
irritates the power attacked, and can have in consequence no other
effect than to increase oppression and tyranny.
None of the conditions here mentioned were in existence at the time we
are speaking of; all that upright men could do was quietly to resign
themselves to the calamitous circumstances of the times, and by fervent
prayer to implore the Almighty to take compassion on mankind.
When every thing was decided by force of arms, who could say whether
such or such an emperor was lawfully established? Upon what rules
was the imperial succession established? Where was legitimacy to be
substituted for illegitimacy? Amongst the Romans--those vile, degraded
beings, kissing the chains of the first tyrant who offered them _food_
and _games_? In the worthless posterity of those illustrious patricians
who formerly gave laws to the universe? Was it vested in the sons or
in the family of some assassinated emperor, when the laws had not
established hereditary succession, when the sceptre of the empire was
at the disposal of the legions, when it frequently happened that the
emperor, the victim of usurpation, had been himself merely a usurper,
who had mounted to the throne over the corpse of his rival? Did it
exist in the ancient rights of those conquered nations now reduced to
simple dependencies of the empire, divested of all national spirit,
having even lost the recollection of their former condition, without a
thought capable of conducting them in the work of their emancipation,
and destitute of resources against the colossal force of their masters?
What object could any one have, under such circumstances, in making
attempts against the established government? When the legions decided
the fate of the world, alternately elevating and assassinating their
masters, what could or what ought the Christian to do? The disciple
of a God of peace and love, he could not take part in criminal scenes
of bloodshed and tumult; authority was tottering and uncertain; it
was not for him to decide whether it was legitimate or not; it only
remained for him to submit to the power generally acknowledged, and
at the arrival of one of those changes, at that time of so frequent
occurrence, to yield the same obedience to the newly-established
government.
The interference of Christians in political disputes would only have
served to bring into disrepute the holy religion they professed; it
would have given to philosophers and idolaters a pretext for increasing
the catalogue of black calumnies which they everywhere brought against
the faith. Public report accused Catholicity of being subversive of
governments; Christians would have furnished a pretext for extending
and accrediting this unfounded report, the hatred of governments would
have been redoubled, and the rigors of persecution so cruelly exercised
against the disciples of the cross would have been increased. Has this
state of things ever existed but once, either in ancient or modern
times? And could the conduct of the first Christians in this respect be
made a rule for the Spaniards, for instance, at the time they resisted
the usurpation of Bonaparte? Or could it be imitated by any other
people in similar circumstances? Or will it be received as an argument
in favor of every kind of usurpation? No; man, in becoming a Christian,
does not cease to be a citizen, to be a man, to have his rights, and he
acts in a praiseworthy manner whenever, within the bounds of reason and
justice, he attempts to maintain these rights with fearless intrepidity.
Don Felix Amat, Archbishop of Palmyra, in his posthumous work entitled
_Idea of the Church Militant_, makes use of these words: "Jesus Christ,
by his plain and expressive answer, _Render to Cæsar the things that
are Cæsar's_, has sufficiently established, that the mere fact of a
government's existence is sufficient for enforcing the obedience of
subjects to it." What I have already advanced is enough, in my opinion,
to show the fallacy of such an assertion; and, as I intend to revert to
this subject, and investigate more attentively this author's opinion,
and the reasons upon which he supports it, I shall not now attempt to
enter upon its refutation. I will, nevertheless, make one observation,
which occurred to me on reading the passages in which the Archbishop
of Palmyra developes it. His work was forbidden at Rome; and whatever
may have been the motives for such a prohibition, we may rest assured
that, in the case of a book advocating such doctrines, every man who
is jealous of his rights might acquiesce in the decree of the Sacred
Congregation.
As the opportunity is favorable, we may make a few remarks upon
_consummated facts_, which are so closely connected with the doctrine
under discussion. _Consummated_ implies something perfect in its kind;
hence an act is consummated when it has attained its completion.
This word, applied to crimes, is opposed to mere attempt. We say
an attempt at robbery, murder, or arson, when the undertaking to
commit these crimes has been manifested by some act; for instance,
the lock of a door has been broken, an attack has been made with a
murderous weapon, combustible matter has been ignited--but the crime
is not said to be consummated till the robbery, murder, or arson has
actually been committed. Hence, in a political and social sense, we
designate _consummated facts_ an usurpation, completely overthrowing
the legitimate power, and by means of which the usurper is already
substituted in its place; a measure executed in all its points; such as
the suppression of the regular clergy in Spain, and the confiscation of
their property to the treasury; a revolution which has been triumphant,
and which has entirely disposed of a country, as was the case with our
American possessions.
From this explanation, we see clearly that a fact does not, by being
_consummated_, change its nature; it still remains a simple fact--just
or unjust, legal or illegal--as it was before. The most horrible
outrages may also be termed _consummated facts_; yet, for all that,
they do not cease to deserve disgrace and punishment.
What, then, is the meaning of certain phrases continually uttered by
some men? "We must respect consummated facts; we must always accept
consummated facts; it is folly to resist consummated facts; it is a
wise policy that yields to consummated facts." Far be it from me to
assert that all those who establish these maxims, profess the fatal
doctrines to which they give rise. We often admit principles, the
consequences of which we reject; and point out a certain line of
conduct as right, without attending to the abominable maxims in which
it originates. In human affairs, good and evil, error and truth are
so narrowly separated, and prudence so closely borders on culpable
timidity, that in theory, as well as in practice, it is not always
easy to remain within the bounds prescribed by reason and the eternal
principles of sound morality. If respect for consummated facts is
mentioned, perverse men immediately include in it the sanctioning
of crime, the spoils of plunder secured to the robber, no hope of
restitution left to the victims, and a gag put upon their mouths, to
stifle their complaints. Others, I am aware, have no such design in
making use of these words, but are the dupes of a confusion of ideas,
arising from their not having distinguished between moral principles
and public expediency. On this point, therefore, we must distinguish
and define, which I will do in a few words.
The simple consummation of a fact does not render it legitimate; and,
consequently, it is not on this account alone worthy of respect. The
robber who has stolen does not acquire a right to the thing stolen;
the incendiary who reduces a house to ashes is no less deserving of
punishment, of being forced to make reparation, than if he had been
arrested in the attempt. This is so evident and clear, that it cannot
be called in question. To assert the contrary, is to become the enemy
of all morality, of all justice, of all right; and to proclaim the
exclusive rule of force and cunning. Consummated facts, appertaining
to social and political order, do not change their nature; the
usurper, who seizes upon the crown of his lawful predecessor; the
conqueror, who, by mere force of arms, has subdued a nation, does not
thereby acquire a right to its possession; the government, which by
gross iniquities has despoiled entire classes of citizens, exacted
undue contributions, abolished legitimate rights, cannot justify its
acts by the simple fact of its having sufficient strength to execute
these iniquities. That is equally evident; and if there is here any
difference at all, the crime is only the greater, from the greater
gravity and extent of the wrongs committed, and of the scandal given
to the public. Such are the principles of sound morality--individual
morality, social morality; morality of the whole human race; immutable,
eternal morality.
Let us now examine the question of public expediency. In some
instances, a consummated fact, in spite of all its injustice, all
its immorality and atrocity, acquires such an ascendency, that by
not accepting it, or by being determined to destroy it, we should
let loose a train of troubles and commotions, and perhaps without
effect. Every government is bound to respect justice, and to act in
such a manner that its subjects may also respect it; but it should not
command what will not be obeyed, when it is deprived of the means of
enforcing obedience. In such a case, we should not commit an injustice
by not attacking the illegal interests, or by not endeavoring to
obtain redress for the victims; the government, in such a case, may be
compared to a man who, beholding robbers loaded with the fruit of their
theft, is without the means of forcing them to make restitution. If you
suppose an impossibility, what does it avail to say that the government
is not a single individual, but a defender of all legitimate interests?
No one is bound to impossibilities.
Observe, also, that this remark applies not only to a physical
impossibility, but also to a moral one. Whenever, therefore, the
government possesses the material means of obtaining reparation, a
moral impossibility will be constituted, when the employing of those
means would cause serious difficulties to the state, endanger the
public peace, or sow the seeds of future insurrection. Order and public
interest require the preference, for these are the primary objects of
all government; consequently, that which cannot be accomplished without
endangering them, ought to be considered as impossible. The application
of these doctrines will always be a question of prudence, that cannot
be subjected to any general rule. Depending as it _does_ upon a
thousand circumstances, it cannot be decided upon abstract principles;
but by the consideration of existing facts, duly appreciated and
considered by political tact. Such is the case of the respect due to
consummated facts; the injustice of these facts is apparent; but we
must not overlook their force. Not to attack them is not, necessarily,
to sanction them. The legislator is bound to diminish the evil as far
as possible; but not to risk an aggravation of it by attempting an
impracticable reparation. As it is particularly injurious to society
for great interests to remain insecure, and uncertain for the future,
just means must be adopted, which, without occasioning complicity in
the evil, may prevent the dangers of a doubtful situation, resulting
from injustice itself. A just policy does not sanction injustice; but
a wise policy never despises the importance of established facts. If
such facts exist, and appear indestructible, it tolerates them; but
without affording them the sanction of its participation or approval.
Acting with dignity, it makes the best of difficulties; and in some
sort allies the principles of eternal justice with the views of public
expediency. We have a very striking case in point, which will place
this matter in the clearest possible light. After the great evils,
and the enormous acts of injustice perpetrated during the French
Revolution, what possibility was there of making a complete reparation?
In 1814, could every thing be restored to the position in which it
stood in 1789? The throne overturned, all social distinctions levelled,
and property broken up; who could reconstruct the ancient social
edifice? No one.
Such is the respect to be entertained for consummated facts, which
might be more properly termed _indestructible_ ones. To illustrate
my idea still further, I will give it a very simple exemplification.
A proprietor, driven from his possessions by a powerful neighbor,
has not the means of repossessing himself of them. He has neither
wealth nor influence; and his spoliator abounds in both. If he have
recourse to force, he will be vanquished; if to the tribunal, he will
lose his cause; what, therefore, is he to do? To negotiate for an
accommodation, to obtain what he can, and be resigned to his fate.
This is all that can be said; and it is remarkable, that such are the
principles adopted by governments. History and experience teach us,
that consummated facts are respected when they are indestructible;
that is, when they possess in themselves sufficient force to make them
respected; in any other case, they are not so. And nothing is more
natural. Whatever is not founded upon right, can only be maintained by
force.[32]