First Section
CONTAINING THE PRELIMINARY ARTICLES OF PERPETUAL PEACE BETWEEN STATES
CONTAINING THE PRELIMINARY ARTICLES FOR LASTING PEACE BETWEEN STATES
1.—“No treaty of peace shall be regarded as valid, if made with the secret reservation of material for a future war.”
1. “No peace treaty shall be considered valid if its makers secretly reserve grounds for a future war.”
For then it would be a mere truce, a mere suspension of hostilities, not peace. A peace signifies the end of all hostilities and to attach to it the epithet “eternal” is not only a verbal pleonasm, but matter of suspicion. The causes of a future war existing, although perhaps not yet known to the high contracting parties themselves, are entirely annihilated by the conclusion of peace, however acutely they may be ferreted out of documents in the public archives. There may be a mental reservation of old claims to be thought out at a future time, which are, none of them, mentioned at this stage, because both parties are too much exhausted to continue the war, while the evil intention remains of using the first favourable opportunity for further hostilities. Diplomacy of this kind only Jesuitical casuistry can justify: it is beneath the dignity of a ruler, just as acquiescence in such processes of reasoning is beneath the dignity of his minister, if one judges the facts as they really are.
For then it would be only a truce, a temporary halt to hostilities, not peace. Peace means the end of all hostilities. Calling peace “eternal” is not only redundant but also suspicious. Concluding peace completely eliminates all existing causes of future war, although perhaps even the parties signing the treaty do not yet know them. This holds however skillfully those causes may be uncovered in documents in the public archives. There may be a secret intention to reconsider old claims later. None of these claims are mentioned now because both parties are too exhausted to continue the war. Yet the malicious intention remains to resume hostilities at the first favorable opportunity. Only Jesuitical casuistry can justify diplomacy of this kind. Such diplomacy is beneath a ruler’s dignity, just as accepting such reasoning is beneath his minister’s dignity, if we judge the facts as they really are.
On interpreting treaties honourably, see Vattel (op. cit., II. Ch. XVII., esp. §§ 263-296, 291). See also his discussion of treaty validity and the need to treat treaties as sacred (II. Ch. XII. §§ 157, 158: II. Ch. XV). [Tr.]
If, however, according to present enlightened ideas of political wisdom, the true glory of a state lies in the uninterrupted development of its power by every possible means, this judgment must certainly strike one as scholastic and pedantic.
If, however, today's enlightened political wisdom is right, a state's true glory lies in constantly expanding its power by every possible means. In that case, this judgment must certainly seem academic and pedantic.
2.—“No state having an independent existence—whether it be great or small—shall be acquired by another through inheritance, exchange, purchase or donation.”
2. “No independent state, large or small, may be acquired by another state through inheritance, exchange, purchase, or gift.”
“Even the smoothest way,” says Hume, (Of the Original Contract) “by which a nation may receive a foreign master, by marriage or a will, is not extremely honourable for the people; but supposes them to be disposed of, like a dowry or a legacy, according to the pleasure or interest of their rulers.” [Tr.]
For a state is not a property (patrimonium), as may be the ground on which its people are settled. It is a society of human beings over whom no one but itself has the right to rule and to dispose. Like the trunk of a tree, it has its own roots, and to graft it on to another state is to do away with its existence as a moral person, and to make of it a thing. Hence it is in contradiction to the idea of the original contract without which no right over a people is thinkable. Everyone knows to what danger the bias in favour of these modes of acquisition has brought Europe (in other parts of the world it has never been known). The custom of marriage between states, as if they were individuals, has survived even up to the most recent times, and is regarded partly as a new kind of industry by which ascendency may be acquired through family alliances, without any expenditure of strength; partly as a device for territorial expansion. Moreover, the hiring out of the troops of one state to another to fight against an enemy not at war with their native country is to be reckoned in this connection; for the subjects are in this way used and abused at will as personal property.
For a state is not property (patrimonium), as the land its people live on may be. A state is a society of human beings, and only that society has the right to rule and govern itself. Like the trunk of a tree, a state has its own roots. Grafting a state onto another state destroys its existence as a moral person and turns it into a thing. Such an act therefore contradicts the idea of the original contract, without which no right to rule a people is conceivable. Everyone knows how much danger Europe has faced because of the preference for these ways of acquiring states. Such practices have never been known in other parts of the world. The custom of marriage between states, as if states were individuals, has survived even into the most recent times. Such marriages are seen partly as a new kind of business for gaining power through family alliances without expending strength. They are also seen as a means of expanding territory. Hiring out one state's troops to another also belongs in this discussion. The troops are sent to fight an enemy that is not at war with their own country. In this way, subjects are used and abused at will as personal property.
A hereditary kingdom is not a state that another state can inherit. Rather, its sovereign power can pass by inheritance to another individual. The state thus gains a ruler, rather than the ruler (as someone already ruling another realm) gaining the state.
This has been one cause of the remarkable mixing of races in the modern Austrian empire. See the lines of Matthias Corvinus of Hungary (quoted in Sir W. Stirling Maxwell’s Cloister Life of Charles the Fifth, Ch. I., note):
3.—“Standing armies (miles perpetuus) shall be abolished in course of time.”
3. “Standing armies (miles perpetuus) must be abolished over time.”
For they are always threatening other states with war by appearing to be in constant readiness to fight. They incite the various states to outrival one another in the number of their soldiers, and to this number no limit can be set. Now, since owing to the sums devoted to this purpose, peace at last becomes even more oppressive than a short war, these standing armies are themselves the cause of wars of aggression, undertaken in order to get rid of this burden. To which we must add that the practice of hiring men to kill or to be killed seems to imply a use of them as mere machines and instruments in the hand of another (namely, the state) which cannot easily be reconciled with the right of humanity in our own person. The matter stands quite differently in the case of voluntary periodical military exercise on the part of citizens of the state, who thereby seek to secure themselves and their country against attack from without.
For standing armies always threaten other states with war by appearing constantly ready to fight. They encourage states to compete over who can maintain the most soldiers, and this competition has no limit. Because of the money spent on these armies, peace eventually becomes even more burdensome than a short war. Standing armies therefore cause wars of aggression, undertaken to escape this burden. In addition, hiring men to kill or be killed seems to treat them as mere machines and tools for others. Here, it is the state that uses them. Such treatment is hard to reconcile with the rights of humanity in our own person. The situation is quite different when citizens voluntarily take part in regular military training. Their purpose is to protect themselves and their country against outside attack.
A Bulgarian Prince gave the following reply to the Greek Emperor. The Emperor had generously offered to settle their dispute by a duel rather than shed his subjects’ blood: “A smith who has tongs will not take the red-hot iron from the fire with his hands.”
The accumulation of treasure in a state would in the same way be regarded by other states as a menace of war, and might compel them to anticipate this by striking the first blow. For of the three forces, the power of arms, the power of alliance and the power of money, the last might well become the most reliable instrument of war, did not the difficulty of ascertaining the amount stand in the way.
Other states would likewise see a state's buildup of wealth as a threat of war. This threat might force them to strike first. For there are three forms of power: military force, alliances, and money. Money might well become the most reliable tool of war if its amount were not so difficult to determine.
4.—“No national debts shall be contracted in connection with the external affairs of the state.”
4. “No national debt shall be taken on in connection with the state's foreign affairs.”
This source of help is above suspicion, where assistance is sought outside or within the state, on behalf of the economic administration of the country (for instance, the improvement of the roads, the settlement and support of new colonies, the establishment of granaries to provide against seasons of scarcity, and so on). But, as a common weapon used by the Powers against one another, a credit system under which debts go on indefinitely increasing and are yet always assured against immediate claims (because all the creditors do not put in their claim at once) is a dangerous money power. This ingenious invention of a commercial people in the present century is, in other words, a treasure for the carrying on of war which may exceed the treasures of all the other states taken together, and can only be exhausted by a threatening deficiency in the taxes—an event, however, which will long be kept off by the very briskness of commerce resulting from the reaction of this system on industry and trade. The ease, then, with which war may be waged, coupled with the inclination of rulers towards it—an inclination which seems to be implanted in human nature—is a great obstacle in the way of perpetual peace. The prohibition of this system must be laid down as a preliminary article of perpetual peace, all the more necessarily because the final inevitable bankruptcy of the state in question must involve in the loss many who are innocent; and this would be a public injury to these states. Therefore other nations are at least justified in uniting themselves against such an one and its pretensions.
Borrowing is beyond suspicion when funds are sought at home or abroad to manage the country’s economy. Such purposes include improving roads, establishing and supporting new colonies, and building granaries to guard against times of scarcity. But a credit system becomes a dangerous financial power when states use it as a weapon against one another. Under such a system, debts keep growing indefinitely, yet remain protected against demands for immediate repayment. This protection exists because not all creditors demand repayment at once. A trading people ingeniously invented this system in the present century. In other words, the system provides a war fund that may exceed the combined treasuries of all other states. This fund can be exhausted only by a looming shortfall in tax revenue. Yet that shortfall will be delayed for a long time by the vigorous commerce the system itself stimulates through industry and trade. Borrowing thus makes war easy to wage, while rulers are inclined toward war. This inclination seems to be rooted in human nature. Together, this ease and this inclination pose a major obstacle to perpetual peace. A ban on this credit system must therefore be established as a preliminary condition of perpetual peace. Such a ban is all the more necessary because the borrowing state’s eventual, inevitable bankruptcy must cause losses to many innocent parties. Those losses would harm the states to which those innocent parties belong. Other nations are therefore at least justified in uniting against such a borrowing state and its claims.
5.—“No state shall violently interfere with the constitution and administration of another.”
5. “No state shall use force to interfere with another state’s constitution and government.”
For what can justify it in so doing? The scandal which is here presented to the subjects of another state? The erring state can much more serve as a warning by exemplifying the great evils which a nation draws down on itself through its own lawlessness. Moreover, the bad example which one free person gives another, (as scandalum acceptum) does no injury to the latter. In this connection, it is true, we cannot count the case of a state which has become split up through internal corruption into two parts, each of them representing by itself an individual state which lays claim to the whole. Here the yielding of assistance to one faction could not be reckoned as interference on the part of a foreign state with the constitution of another, for here anarchy prevails. So long, however, as the inner strife has not yet reached this stage the interference of other powers would be a violation of the rights of an independent nation which is only struggling with internal disease. It would therefore itself cause a scandal, and make the autonomy of all states insecure.
For what can justify a state intervening in this way? The bad example set for the people of another state? The state at fault can serve much better as a warning. It shows the great evils a nation brings upon itself through its own lawlessness. Moreover, a bad example set by one free person does no harm to another (as scandalum acceptum). There is, however, an exception: a state split by internal corruption into two parts. Each part is itself a separate state claiming authority over the whole. In this case, helping one faction could not count as foreign interference in another state's constitution, because anarchy prevails. But as long as internal conflict has not reached this stage, intervention by other powers would violate an independent nation's rights. The nation is merely struggling with an internal disease. Such intervention would therefore itself set a bad example and make the autonomy of all states insecure.
See Vattel: Law of Nations, II. Ch. IV. § 55. He says no foreign power has the right to judge a sovereign’s conduct or administration, or force him to change it. “If he loads his subjects with taxes, or if he treats them with severity, the nation alone is concerned; and no other is called upon to offer redress for his behaviour, or oblige him to follow more wise and equitable maxims.... But (loc. cit. § 56) when the bands of the political society are broken, or at least suspended, between the sovereign and his people, the contending parties may then be considered at two distinct powers; and, since they are both equally independent of all foreign authority, nobody has a right to judge them. Either may be in the right; and each of those who grant their assistance may imagine that he is giving his support to the better cause.” [Tr.]
6.—“No state at war with another shall countenance such modes of hostility as would make mutual confidence impossible in a subsequent state of peace: such are the employment of assassins (percussores) or of poisoners (venefici), breaches of capitulation, the instigating and making use of treachery (perduellio) in the hostile state.”
6. “No state at war with another shall allow hostile acts that would make mutual trust impossible once peace returns. Such acts include employing assassins (percussores) or poisoners (venefici), breaking surrender agreements, and encouraging and exploiting treachery (perduellio) in the enemy state.”
These are dishonourable stratagems. For some kind of confidence in the disposition of the enemy must exist even in the midst of war, as otherwise peace could not be concluded, and the hostilities would pass into a war of extermination (bellum internecinum). War, however, is only our wretched expedient of asserting a right by force, an expedient adopted in the state of nature, where no court of justice exists which could settle the matter in dispute. In circumstances like these, neither of the two parties can be called an unjust enemy, because this form of speech presupposes a legal decision: the issue of the conflict—just as in the case of the so-called judgments of God—decides on which side right is. Between states, however, no punitive war (bellum punitivum) is thinkable, because between them a relation of superior and inferior does not exist. Whence it follows that a war of extermination, where the process of annihilation would strike both parties at once and all right as well, would bring about perpetual peace only in the great graveyard of the human race. Such a war then, and therefore also the use of all means which lead to it, must be absolutely forbidden. That the methods just mentioned do inevitably lead to this result is obvious from the fact that these infernal arts, already vile in themselves, on coming into use, are not long confined to the sphere of war. Take, for example, the use of spies (uti exploratoribus). Here only the dishonesty of others is made use of; but vices such as these, when once encouraged, cannot in the nature of things be stamped out and would be carried over into the state of peace, where their presence would be utterly destructive to the purpose of that state.
These are dishonorable tactics. For even during war, some trust in the enemy’s intentions must remain. Otherwise, peace could not be made, and the fighting would become a war of extermination (bellum internecinum). War, however, is only our miserable means of asserting a right by force. We resort to war in the state of nature, where no court exists to settle the dispute. Under these conditions, neither side can be called an unjust enemy, because that judgment requires a legal ruling. Instead, the outcome of the conflict decides which side is right, just as in the so-called judgments of God. Between states, however, there can be no punitive war (bellum punitivum), because neither state has authority over the other. It follows that a war of extermination would destroy both sides at once, along with all right. Such a war would bring perpetual peace only in the great graveyard of the human race. Such a war must therefore be absolutely forbidden, as must all means that lead to it. The methods just mentioned inevitably lead to this result. The reason is clear: these hellish practices, already vile in themselves, do not remain confined to war for long. Take, for example, the use of spies (uti exploratoribus). Here, one merely takes advantage of other people’s dishonesty. But once encouraged, such vices cannot, by their very nature, be stamped out. They would carry over into peacetime, where their presence would utterly destroy the purpose of peace.
Although the laws stated are, objectively regarded, (i.e. in so far as they affect the action of rulers) purely prohibitive laws (leges prohibitivæ), some of them (leges strictæ) are strictly valid without regard to circumstances and urgently require to be enforced. Such are Nos. 1, 5, 6. Others, again, (like Nos. 2, 3, 4) although not indeed exceptions to the maxims of law, yet in respect of the practical application of these maxims allow subjectively of a certain latitude to suit particular circumstances. The enforcement of these leges latæ may be legitimately put off, so long as we do not lose sight of the ends at which they aim. This purpose of reform does not permit of the deferment of an act of restitution (as, for example, the restoration to certain states of freedom of which they have been deprived in the manner described in article 2) to an infinitely distant date—as Augustus used to say, to the “Greek Kalends”, a day that will never come. This would be to sanction non-restitution. Delay is permitted only with the intention that restitution should not be made too precipitately and so defeat the purpose we have in view. For the prohibition refers here only to the mode of acquisition which is to be no longer valid, and not to the fact of possession which, although indeed it has not the necessary title of right, yet at the time of so-called acquisition was held legal by all states, in accordance with the public opinion of the time.
Viewed objectively (that is, in terms of how they affect rulers’ actions), these laws are purely prohibitive (leges prohibitivæ). But some (leges strictæ) apply strictly, regardless of circumstances, and urgently require enforcement. These are Nos. 1, 5, 6. Others (such as Nos. 2, 3, 4) are not exceptions to the principles of law. Yet applying these principles allows some flexibility in practice to suit particular circumstances. Enforcement of these leges latæ may legitimately be delayed, as long as we keep their intended goals in view. This aim of reform does not allow restitution to be postponed indefinitely. One example is restoring freedom to states deprived of it in the way described in article 2. Such restitution cannot be postponed, as Augustus used to say, to the “Greek Kalends”, a day that will never come. That would amount to approving the refusal to make restitution. Delay is permitted only to prevent restitution from being made too hastily and thus defeating the intended purpose. For the prohibition here concerns only the mode of acquisition, which must no longer be considered valid. It does not concern the fact of possession, even though that possession lacks the necessary legal title. At the time of the so-called acquisition, however, all states considered that possession lawful, reflecting public opinion at the time.
Until now, people have doubted, with good reason, whether pure reason can establish laws of permission (leges permissivæ). Can such laws exist alongside commands (leges præceptivæ) and prohibitions (leges prohibitivæ)? Law generally rests on objective practical necessity. Permission, by contrast, rests on the fact that certain actions are optional in practice. A law of permission would therefore require something that cannot be required. That would be a contradiction if both kinds of law concerned the same thing. Here, however, the prohibition assumed by the law of permission concerns only future ways of acquiring a right. Acquisition through inheritance is one example. The exception to this prohibition (i.e. the permission) concerns the present possession of property. During the transition from a state of nature to a civil state, such possession may continue under the new social conditions. The Law of Nature permits it to continue as bona fide ownership, even if it amounts to usurpation. Once the true nature of such ownership becomes known, it proves to be merely supposed possession (possessio putativa). In a state of nature, opinion and custom give such possession their approval. After the transition, these ways of acquiring property are likewise forbidden in the civil state that develops. Nor would continued possession be permitted if the supposed acquisition had occurred within the civil community. Such possession would have to end as soon as its illegality became clear, because it violated the rights of others.