Jean-Jacques Rousseau · Complete work
Book I, Chapter 4
Book I, Chapter 4 of 49. Read it here for reference, or continue through the entire work without leaving the reader.
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De l’esclavage.
Puis qu’aucun homme n’a une autorité naturelle sur son semblable, & puisque la force ne produit aucun droit, restent donc les conventions pour base de toute autorité légitime parmi les hommes.
Si un particulier, dit Grotius, peut aliéner sa liberté & se rendre esclave d’un maitre, pourquoi tout un peuple ne pourroit-il pas aliéner la sienne & se rendre sujet d’un roi? Il y a là bien des mots équivoques qui auroient besoin d’explication, mais tenons-nous en à celui d’aliéner. Aliéner c’est donner ou vendre. Or un homme qui se fait esclave d’un autre ne se donne pas, il se vend, tout au moins pour sa subsistance: mais un peuple pour quoi se vend-il? Bien loin qu’un roi fournisse à ses sujets leur subsistance il ne tire la sienne que d’eux, & selon Rabelais un roi ne vit pas de peu. Les sujets donnent donc leur personne à condition qu’on prendra aussi leur bien? Je ne vois pas ce qu’il leur reste à conserver.
On dira que le despote assure à ses sujets la tranquillité civile. Soit; mais qu’y gagnent-ils, si les guerres que son ambition leur attire, si son insatiable avidité, si les vexations de son ministere les désolent plus que ne feroient leurs dissentions? Qu’y gagnent-ils, si cette tranquillité-même est une de leurs miseres? On vit tranquille aussi dans les cachots; en est-ce assez pour s’y trouver bien? Les Grecs enfermés dans l’antre du Cyclope y vivoient tranquilles, en attendant que leur tour vint d’être dévorés.
Dire qu’un homme se donne gratuitement, c’est dire une chose absurde & inconcevable; un tel acte est illégitime & nul, par cela seul que celui qui le fait n’est pas dans son bon sens. Dire la même chose de tout un peuple, c’est supposer un peuple de foux: la folie ne fait pas droit.
Quand chacun pourroit s’aliéner lui-même il ne peut aliéner ses enfans; ils naissent hommes & libres; leur liberté leur appartient, nul n’a droit d’en disposer qu’eux. Avant qu’ils soient en âge de raison, le pere peut en leur nom stipuler des conditions pour leur conservation, pour leur bien être; mais non les donner irrévocablement & sans condition; car un tel don est contraire aux fins de la nature, & passe les droits de la paternité. Il faudroit donc, pour qu’un gouvernement arbitraire fut légitime, qu’à chaque génération le peuple fut le maitre de l’admettre ou de le rejetter: mais alors ce gouvernement ne seroit plus arbitraire.
Renoncer à sa liberté c’est renoncer à sa qualité d’homme, aux droits de l’humanité, même à ses devoirs. Il n’y a nul dédommagement possible pour quiconque renonce à tout. Une telle renonciation est incompatible avec la nature de l’homme, & c’est ôter toute moralité à ses actions que d’ôter toute liberté à sa volonté. Enfin c’est une convention vaine & contradictoire de stipuler d’une part une autorité absolue & de l’autre une obéissance sans bornes. N’est-il pas clair qu’on n’est engagé à rien envers celui dont on a droit de tout éxiger, & cette seule condition sans équivalent sans échange n’entraîne-t-elle pas la nullité de l’acte? Car quel droit mon esclave auroit-il contre moi, puisque tout ce qu’il a m’appartient, & que son droit étant le mien, ce droit de moi contre moi-même est un mot qui n’a aucun sens?
Grotius & les autres tirent de la guerre une autre origine du prétendu droit d’esclavage. Le vainqueur ayant, selon eux, le droit de tuer le vaincu, celui-ci peut racheter sa vie aux dépens de sa liberté; convention d’autant plus légitime qu’elle tourne au profit de tous deux.
Mais il est clair que ce prétendu droit de tuer les vaincus ne résulte en aucune maniere de l’état de guerre. Par cela seul que les hommes vivant dans leur primitive indépendance n’ont point entre eux de rapport assez constant pour constituer ni l’état de paix ni l’état de guerre, ils ne sont point naturellement ennemis. C’est le rapport des choses & non des hommes qui constitue la guerre, & l’état de guerre ne pouvant naitre des simples rélations personnelles, mais seulement des rélations réelles, la guerre privée ou d’homme à homme ne peut exister, ni dans l’état de nature où il n’y a point de propriété constante, ni dans l’état social où tout est sous l’autorité des loix.
Les combats particuliers, les duels, les rencontres sont des actes qui ne constituent point un état; & à l’égard des guerres privées, autorisées par les établissemens de Louis IX roi de France & suspendues par la paix de Dieu, ce sont des abus du gouvernement féodal, systême absurde s’il en fut jamais, contraire aux principes du droit naturel, & à toute bonne politie.
La guerre n’est donc point une rélation d’homme à homme, mais une rélation d’État à État, dans laquelle les particuliers ne sont ennemis qu’accidentellement, non point comme hommes ni même comme citoyens, mais comme soldats; non point comme membres de la patrie, mais comme ses défenseurs. Enfin chaque État ne peut avoir pour ennemis que d’autres États & non pas des hommes, attendu qu’entre choses de diverses natures on ne peut fixer aucun vrai rapport.
Ce principe est même conforme aux maximes établies de tous les tems & à la pratique constante de tous les peuples policés. Les déclarations de guerre sont moins des avertissemens aux puissances qu’à leurs sujets. L’étranger, soit roi, soit particulier, soit peuple, qui vole tüe ou détient les sujets sans déclarer la guerre au prince, n’est pas un ennemi, c’est un brigand. Même en pleine guerre un prince juste s’empare bien en pays ennemi de tout ce qui appartient au public, mais il respecte la personne & les biens des particuliers; il respecte des droits sur lesquels sont fondés les siens. La fin de la guerre étant la destruction de l’Etat ennemi, on a droit d’en tuer les défenseurs tant qu’ils ont les armes à la main; mais sitôt qu’ils les posent & se rendent, cessant d’être ennemis ou instrumens de l’ennemi, ils redeviennent simplement hommes & l’on n’a plus de droit sur leur vie. Quelquefois, on peut tuer l’Etat sans tuer un seul de ses membres: Or la guerre ne donne aucun droit qui ne soit nécessaire à sa fin. Ces principes ne sont pas ceux de Grotius; ils ne sont pas fondés sur des autorités de poëtes, mais ils dérivent de la nature des choses, & sont fondés sur la raison.
A l’egard du droit de conquête, il n’a d’autre fondement que la loi du plus fort. Si la guerre ne donne point au vainqueur le droit de massacrer les peuples vaincus, ce droit qu’il n’a pas ne peut fonder celui de les asservir. On n’a le droit de tuer l’ennemi que quand on ne peut le faire esclave; le droit de le faire esclave ne vient donc pas du droit de le tuer: C’est donc un échange inique de lui faire acheter au prix de sa liberté sa vie sur laquelle on n’a aucun droit. En établissant le droit de vie & de mort sur le droit d’esclavage, & le droit d’esclavage sur le droit de vie & de mort, n’est-il pas clair qu’on tombe dans le cercle vicieux?
En supposant même ce terrible droit de tout tuer, je dis qu’un esclave fait à la guerre ou un peuple conquis n’est tenu à rien du tout envers son maitre, qu’à lui obéir autant qu’il y est forcé. En prenant un équivalent à sa vie le vainqueur ne lui en a point fait grace: au lieu de le tuer sans fruit il l’a tué utilement. Loin donc qu’il ait acquis sur lui nulle autorité jointe à la force, l’état de guerre subsiste entre eux comme auparavant, leur rélation même en est l’effet, & l’usage du droit de la guerre ne suppose aucun traité de paix. Ils ont fait une convention; soit: mais cette convention, loin de détruire l’état de guerre, en suppose la continuité.
Ainsi, de quelque sens qu’on envisage les choses, le droit d’esclavage est nul, non seulement parce qu’il est illégitime, mais parce qu’il est absurde & ne signifie rien. Ces mots, esclave, &, droit sont contradictoires; ils s’excluent mutuellement. Soit d’un homme à un homme, soit d’un homme à un peuple, ce discours sera toujours également insensé. Je fais avec toi une convention toute à ta charge & toute à mon profit, que j’observerai tant qu’il me plaira, & que tu observeras tant qu’il me plaira.
Musean translation
Mouseia’s complete machine-assisted Musean translation, made directly from the complete French text of the 1762 edition, all four books and the appendix for fidelity, the author’s force and cadence, and modern clarity.
Of Slavery.
Since no man has natural authority over his fellow man, and since force creates no right, conventions remain the basis of all legitimate authority among men.
If an individual, says Grotius, can alienate his freedom and make himself the slave of a master, why could not an entire people alienate its freedom and make itself subject to a king? There are many ambiguous words here that call for explanation, but let us confine ourselves to alienate. To alienate is to give or to sell. Now a man who makes himself another man's slave does not give himself away; he sells himself, at least for his subsistence. But for what does a people sell itself? Far from providing his subjects with their subsistence, a king draws his own only from them; and according to Rabelais, a king does not live on little. Do subjects, then, give away their persons on condition that their goods be taken as well? I cannot see what they have left to preserve.
It will be said that the despot secures civil peace for his subjects. So be it; but what do they gain if the wars brought upon them by his ambition, his insatiable greed, and the oppression of his ministers devastate them more than their own quarrels would? What do they gain if that peace itself is one of their miseries? One lives peacefully in a dungeon too; is that enough to make it a pleasant place? The Greeks shut in the Cyclops' cave lived peacefully there, awaiting their turn to be devoured.
To say that a man gives himself away for nothing is to say something absurd and inconceivable; such an act is illegitimate and void, if only because the man who performs it is not in his right mind. To say the same thing of an entire people is to imagine a people of madmen: madness creates no right.
Even if each person could alienate himself, he cannot alienate his children. They are born human and free; their freedom belongs to them, and no one but they has the right to dispose of it. Before they reach the age of reason, their father may stipulate conditions in their name for their preservation and well-being, but he may not give them away irrevocably and without conditions; such a gift is contrary to the ends of nature and exceeds the rights of fatherhood. For arbitrary government to be legitimate, therefore, the people would have to be free in each generation to accept or reject it; but then the government would no longer be arbitrary.
To renounce one's freedom is to renounce one's humanity, the rights of humankind, and even one's duties. There can be no compensation for someone who renounces everything. Such a renunciation is incompatible with human nature; to strip the will of all freedom is to strip its actions of all moral worth. Finally, a convention that stipulates absolute authority on one side and boundless obedience on the other is empty and contradictory. Is it not clear that one owes nothing to a person who has the right to demand everything from one, and does not this condition alone, without equivalent or exchange, invalidate the act? For what right could my slave have against me, since all he has belongs to me, and since his right is mine, this right of mine against myself is a phrase without meaning?
Grotius and others derive another origin for the supposed right of slavery from war. The victor, they say, has the right to kill the vanquished; the vanquished can therefore redeem his life at the cost of his freedom, a convention all the more legitimate because it benefits both parties.
But plainly this supposed right to kill the vanquished in no way follows from the state of war. Simply because men living in their original independence have no sufficiently lasting relationship among themselves to constitute either a state of peace or a state of war, they are not enemies by nature. It is relations between things, not between men, that constitute war. And because a state of war can arise not from merely personal relations but only from relations of property, private war, or war between one man and another, cannot exist either in the state of nature, where there is no settled property, or in the social state, where everything falls under the authority of law.
Individual fights, duels, and chance encounters are acts that do not constitute a state of war. As for private wars, authorized by the ordinances of Louis IX, king of France, and suspended by the Peace of God, they are abuses of feudal government, a system as absurd as any that ever existed, contrary to the principles of natural right and to every sound polity.
War, then, is not a relation between man and man but between state and state, in which individuals are enemies only incidentally: not as men, nor even as citizens, but as soldiers; not as members of their country, but as its defenders. In short, a state can have only other states as enemies, not men, for no true relation can be established between things of different kinds.
This principle accords with the established maxims of every age and the constant practice of all civilized peoples. Declarations of war serve less as warnings to powers than to their subjects. A foreigner, whether king, private individual, or people, who robs, kills, or detains subjects without declaring war on their prince is not an enemy but a brigand. Even in open war, a just prince does indeed seize everything belonging to the public in enemy territory, but respects the persons and property of private individuals; he respects the rights on which his own are founded. Since the aim of war is the destruction of the enemy state, one has the right to kill its defenders while they bear arms. But as soon as they lay down their arms and surrender, ceasing to be enemies or instruments of the enemy, they become simply men again, and one has no further right over their lives. Sometimes a state can be killed without killing a single one of its members. War, therefore, confers no right that is not necessary to its end. These are not the principles of Grotius; they rest not on the authority of poets but on reason, and follow from the nature of things.
As for the right of conquest, it has no foundation but the law of the strongest. If war does not give the victor the right to massacre conquered peoples, the right he does not have cannot establish a right to enslave them. One has the right to kill an enemy only when one cannot make him a slave; the right to make him a slave does not, then, arise from the right to kill him. It is thus an unjust bargain to make him purchase with his freedom a life over which one has no right. In founding the right of life and death on the right of slavery, and the right of slavery on the right of life and death, does one not plainly fall into a vicious circle?
Even supposing this terrible right to kill everyone, I say that a slave taken in war, or a conquered people, owes his master nothing at all except obedience so far as he is forced to obey. In taking the equivalent of his life, the victor has shown him no mercy: instead of killing him to no purpose, he has killed him to some advantage. Far, then, from acquiring any authority over him beyond force, the state of war continues between them as before; their very relationship is its effect, and the exercise of the right of war implies no treaty of peace. They have made a convention, perhaps; but this convention, far from ending the state of war, presupposes its continuance.
Thus, however one looks at the matter, the right of slavery is void, not only because it is illegitimate but because it is absurd and means nothing. These words, slave and right, contradict and exclude each other. Whether between one man and another or between a man and a people, this speech will always be equally senseless: "I make with you a convention that places every burden on you and every benefit with me, that I shall observe as long as I please, and that you shall observe as long as I please."
Plain English translation
Mouseia’s complete Plain English edition, made independently and directly from the complete French text of the 1762 edition, all four books and the appendix.
On Slavery.
No person has natural authority over another, and force creates no right. Agreements, then, remain the basis of all legitimate authority among human beings.
If an individual can give up his freedom and become a master's slave, Grotius says, why could a whole people not give up its freedom and become subjects of a king? Several words here are ambiguous and need explanation. Let us focus on giving up one's freedom. To give something up in this sense is to give it away or sell it. A man who makes himself another man's slave does not give himself away: he sells himself, at least in exchange for his livelihood. But what does a people sell itself for? Far from providing his subjects with a living, a king gets his own living only from them. And, as Rabelais says, a king does not live on little. Do subjects give up their persons on condition that the king also takes their goods? I do not see what they have left to preserve.
Someone will say that a despot guarantees his subjects civil peace. Perhaps. But what do they gain if the wars brought on by his ambition, his endless greed, and the abuses of his ministers bring them more suffering than their own disagreements would? What do they gain if that peace is itself one of their troubles? People also live quietly in dungeons. Is that enough to make a dungeon a good place to be? The Greeks locked in the Cyclops's cave lived quietly while they waited for their turn to be eaten.
To say that a person gives himself away for nothing is absurd and inconceivable. Such an act is illegitimate and void, if only because anyone who does it is not in his right mind. To say the same thing about a whole people assumes a people of madmen. Madness does not create a right.
Even if each person could give himself away, he could not give away his children. They are born human and free. Their freedom belongs to them, and no one but they themselves has the right to dispose of it. Before they can reason, their father can make arrangements on their behalf to keep them alive and well. But he cannot give them away irrevocably and without conditions. Such a gift runs against the aims of nature and goes beyond a father's rights. For arbitrary government to be legitimate, then, the people would have to be free in every generation to accept or reject it. But in that case the government would no longer be arbitrary.
To give up one's freedom is to give up one's standing as a human being, the rights of humanity, and even its duties. Nothing can make up for giving up everything. Such a renunciation is incompatible with human nature. To remove all freedom from a person's will is to strip his actions of all moral meaning. Finally, it is a pointless and contradictory agreement to set absolute authority on one side and unlimited obedience on the other. Is it not clear that we owe nothing to a person from whom we have the right to demand anything at all? Does this condition, with nothing given in return, not itself make the agreement void? For what right could my slave have against me if everything he has belongs to me? If his right is mine, then a right of mine against myself is a phrase without meaning.
Grotius and others find another source for the supposed right to enslave in war. According to them, the victor has a right to kill the defeated person. That person can therefore buy his life back with his freedom, an agreement all the more legitimate because both benefit from it.
But it is clear that this supposed right to kill defeated people does not follow in any way from a state of war. People living in their original independence do not have relations stable enough with one another to establish either a state of peace or a state of war. For that reason, they are not natural enemies. War arises from relations between things, not between persons. A state of war cannot arise from merely personal relations, only from relations involving property. So private war, or war between one person and another, cannot exist in the state of nature, where property is not stable, or in society, where everything falls under the authority of laws.
Individual fights, duels, and clashes are acts that do not create an ongoing state. As for private wars authorized by the ordinances of Louis IX, king of France, and suspended by the Peace of God, these are abuses of feudal government. That system is absurd if any is, and it goes against natural right and every sound political order.
War, then, is not a relation between one person and another but between one state and another. Individuals are enemies only by circumstance, not as human beings or even as citizens, but as soldiers. They are enemies not as members of their country but as its defenders. In short, a state can have only other states as enemies, not people. Things of different kinds cannot have a true relation of this sort.
This principle agrees with rules recognized throughout history and with the steady practice of all civilized peoples. Declarations of war are addressed less to rulers than to their subjects. A foreigner, whether a king, an individual, or a people, who robs, kills, or detains subjects without declaring war on their ruler is not an enemy but a robber. Even in open war, a just ruler seizes everything belonging to the public in enemy territory, but respects individuals and their property. He respects rights on which his own rights are based. The aim of war is to destroy the enemy state. One therefore has the right to kill its defenders while they hold weapons. But as soon as they lay down their weapons and surrender, they cease to be enemies or instruments of the enemy. They become simply human beings again, and no one has a right to take their lives. Sometimes a state can be destroyed without killing a single one of its members. War gives no right that is not needed to achieve its aim. These are not Grotius's principles. They do not rest on the authority of poets but follow from the nature of things and are grounded in reason.
As for the right of conquest, its only basis is the rule of the strongest. If war gives the victor no right to massacre defeated peoples, that nonexistent right cannot provide a basis for enslaving them. One has the right to kill an enemy only when one cannot enslave him. The right to enslave him therefore does not come from the right to kill him. It is an unjust bargain to make him pay with his freedom for a life to which the victor has no right. If we base the power of life and death on the right to enslave, and the right to enslave on the power of life and death, are we not plainly arguing in a circle?
Even if we assume this terrible right to kill everyone, I say that a slave taken in war, or a conquered people, owes the master nothing at all except obedience for as long as force compels it. By accepting something in exchange for the captive's life, the victor has shown him no mercy. Instead of killing him without gaining anything, he has killed him for his own benefit. Far from acquiring any authority over the captive beyond force, the victor remains in a state of war with him as before. Their relationship itself is an effect of that state, and using the rights of war does not imply a peace treaty. They have made an agreement, perhaps. But instead of ending the state of war, that agreement assumes that it continues.
So, however one looks at it, the right to enslave is void. It is not only illegitimate but absurd and meaningless. The words slave and right contradict and exclude each other. Whether one person says it to another person or to a whole people, the following statement is equally senseless: I make an agreement with you that puts every burden on you and gives every benefit to me. I will keep it for as long as I please, and you will keep it for as long as I please.