Book 2, Chapter 10

The People (continued)

4 min

A body politic may be measured in two ways—either by the extent of its territory, or by the number of its people; and there is, between these two measurements, a right relation which makes the State really great. The men make the State, and the territory sustains the men; the right relation therefore is that the land should suffice for the maintenance of the inhabitants, and that there should be as many inhabitants as the land can maintain. In this proportion lies the maximum strength of a given number of people; for if there is too much land, it is troublesome to guard and inadequately cultivated, produces more than is needed, and soon gives rise to wars of defence; if there is not enough, the State depends on its neighbours for what it needs over and above, and this soon gives rise to wars of offence. Every people, to which its situation gives no choice save that between commerce and war, is weak in itself: it depends on its neighbours, and on circumstances; its existence can never be more than short and uncertain. It either conquers others, and changes its situation, or it is conquered and becomes nothing. Only insignificance or greatness can keep it free.

A political community can be measured in two ways: by the size of its territory or by its population. The right balance between these two measures makes the State truly great. The people make up the State, and the land supports the people. So the land should be enough to support the inhabitants, and there should be as many inhabitants as it can support. This balance gives a population of any given size its maximum strength. For if there is too much land, the territory is hard to defend and poorly cultivated. The land produces more than is needed, and this situation soon leads to defensive wars. If there is too little land, the State depends on its neighbours for the supplies it lacks. This dependence soon leads to wars of aggression. Any people whose situation leaves no choice but trade or war is weak in itself. Such a people depends on its neighbours and on circumstances. Its existence can only be brief and uncertain. It either conquers others and changes its situation, or is conquered and reduced to nothing. Only insignificance or greatness can keep such a people free.

No fixed relation can be stated between the extent of the territory and the population that are adequate one to the other, both because of the differences in the quality of land, in its fertility, in the nature of its products, and in the influence of climate, and because of the different tempers of those who inhabit it; for some in a fertile country consume little, and others on an ungrateful soil much. The greater or less fecundity of women, the conditions that are more or less favourable in each country to the growth of population, and the influence the legislator can hope to exercise by his institutions, must also be taken into account. The legislator therefore should not go by what he sees, but by what he foresees; he should stop not so much at the state in which he actually finds the population, as at that to which it ought naturally to attain. Lastly, there are countless cases in which the particular local circumstances demand or allow the acquisition of a greater territory than seems necessary. Thus, expansion will be great in a mountainous country, where the natural products, i.e. woods and pastures, need less labour, where we know from experience that women are more fertile than in the plains, and where a great expanse of slope affords only a small level tract that can be counted on for vegetation. On the other hand, contraction is possible on the coast, even in lands of rocks and nearly barren sands, because there fishing makes up to a great extent for the lack of land-produce, because the inhabitants have to congregate together more in order to repel pirates, and further because it is easier to unburden the country of its superfluous inhabitants by means of colonies.

There is no fixed ratio between the size of a territory and the population it can support. Land varies in quality, fertility, and the kinds of goods it produces, as well as in climate. The habits of the inhabitants also differ. Some people in fertile countries consume little, while others on poor soil consume much. We must also consider differences in women’s fertility and how favorable each country’s conditions are to population growth. The influence a lawmaker can hope to have through his institutions must also be considered. The lawmaker should therefore judge not by what he sees, but by what he foresees. He should focus less on the population’s current size than on the size it should naturally reach. Finally, countless local circumstances require or allow a country to acquire more territory than seems necessary. A mountainous country, for example, will need much more territory. Its natural products, that is, timber and pasture, require less labor. Experience also tells us that women in mountainous countries are more fertile than women on the plains. And a vast stretch of mountainside offers only a small area of level ground that can reliably support vegetation. Coastal countries, on the other hand, can occupy less territory, even where the land consists of rocks and nearly barren sand. There, fishing largely makes up for the lack of food from the land. The inhabitants also need to live closer together to repel pirates. In addition, founding colonies makes it easier to relieve the country of its excess population.

To these conditions of law-giving must be added one other which, though it cannot take the place of the rest, renders them all useless when it is absent. This is the enjoyment of peace and plenty; for the moment at which a State sets its house in order is, like the moment when a battalion is forming up, that when its body is least capable of offering resistance and easiest to destroy. A better resistance could be made at a time of absolute disorganisation than at a moment of fermentation, when each is occupied with his own position and not with the danger. If war, famine, or sedition arises at this time of crisis, the State will inevitably be overthrown.

One more condition must be added to these requirements for making laws. Although this condition cannot replace the others, all the others are useless without it. This condition is peace and plenty. For a State is weakest and easiest to destroy when it is putting its affairs in order. In this respect, a State is like a battalion forming ranks. A State could resist better in complete disorder than during upheaval, when everyone focuses on their own position, not the danger. If war, famine, or rebellion breaks out during this crisis, the State will inevitably be overthrown.

Not that many governments have not been set up during such storms; but in such cases these governments are themselves the State's destroyers. Usurpers always bring about or select troublous times to get passed, under cover of the public terror, destructive laws, which the people would never adopt in cold blood. The moment chosen is one of the surest means of distinguishing the work of the legislator from that of the tyrant.

Many governments have indeed been established during such upheavals. But in such cases, these governments themselves destroy the State. Usurpers always create or choose troubled times to push through destructive laws under cover of public fear. The people would never adopt such laws when calm. The timing is one of the surest ways to distinguish the work of a lawgiver from that of a tyrant.

What people, then, is a fit subject for legislation? One which, already bound by some unity of origin, interest, or convention, has never yet felt the real yoke of law; one that has neither customs nor superstitions deeply ingrained, one which stands in no fear of being overwhelmed by sudden invasion; one which, without entering into its neighbours' quarrels, can resist each of them single-handed, or get the help of one to repel another; one in which every member may be known by every other, and there is no need to lay on any man burdens too heavy for a man to bear; one which can do without other peoples, and without which all others can do; one which is neither rich nor poor, but self-sufficient; and, lastly, one which unites the consistency of an ancient people with the docility of a new one. Legislation is made difficult less by what it is necessary to build up than by what has to be destroyed; and what makes success so rare is the impossibility of finding natural simplicity together with social requirements. All these conditions are indeed rarely found united, and therefore few States have good constitutions.

What people, then, is ready for legislation? A people already united by some shared origin, interest, or agreement, but never truly subjected to law. Its customs and superstitions must not be deeply rooted. It must have no fear of being overwhelmed by a sudden invasion. Without joining its neighbors’ quarrels, it must be able to resist each neighbor alone. Or it must be able to enlist one neighbor’s help to repel another. Every member must be able to know every other member. There must be no need to impose burdens heavier than any person can bear. Such a people must be able to do without other peoples, and all others must be able to do without it. It must be neither rich nor poor, but self-sufficient. Finally, it must combine an ancient people’s stability with a new people’s willingness to be guided. The difficulty of legislation lies less in what must be built than in what must be destroyed. Success is so rare because it is impossible to find natural simplicity combined with the conditions social life requires. All these conditions are indeed rarely found together, and so few states have good constitutions.

If one of two neighbouring peoples could not do without the other, the dependent people would face great hardship. The people they depended on would face great danger. Any wise nation in this position would hurry to free the other from dependence. The Republic of Thlascala, surrounded by the Mexican Empire, preferred to go without salt rather than buy from the Mexicans. The Thlascalans even refused to accept salt as a gift from the Mexicans. They were wise enough to see the trap hidden in such generosity. The Thlascalans kept their freedom, and their small state, surrounded by that great Empire, eventually brought about the Empire’s downfall.

There is still in Europe one country capable of being given laws—Corsica. The valour and persistency with which that brave people has regained and defended its liberty well deserves that some wise man should teach it how to preserve what it has won. I have a feeling that some day that little island will astonish Europe.

There is still one country in Europe ready to be given laws: Corsica. Its brave people have regained and defended their freedom with courage and determination. For this, they well deserve a wise man to teach them how to preserve the freedom they have won. I have a feeling that someday this little island will astonish Europe.