Jean-Jacques Rousseau · Complete work
Book IV, Chapter 2
Book IV, Chapter 2 of 49. Read it here for reference, or continue through the entire work without leaving the reader.
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Des Suffrages.
On voit par le chapitre précédent que la maniere dont se traittent les affaires générales peut donner un indice assez sûr de l’état actuel des mœurs, & de la santé du corps politique. Plus le concert regne dans les assemblées, c’est-à-dire plus les avis approchent de l’unanimité, plus aussi la volonté générale est dominante; mais les longs débats, les dissentions, le tumulte, annoncent l’ascendant des intérêts particuliers & le déclin de l’Etat.
Ceci paroit moins évident quand deux ou plusieurs ordres entrent dans sa constitution, comme à Rome les Patriciens & les Plébeyens, dont les querelles troublerent souvent les comices, même dans les plus beaux tems de la République; mais cette exception est plus apparente que réelle; car alors par le vice inhérent au corps politique on a, pour ainsi dire, deux États en un; ce qui n’est pas vrai des deux ensemble est vrai de chacun séparément. Et en effet dans les tems mêmes les plus orageux les plébiscites du peuple, quand le Sénat ne s’en mêloit pas, passoient toujours tranquillement & à la grande pluralité des suffrages: Les Citoyens n’ayant qu’un intérêt, le peuple n’avoit qu’une volonté.
A l’autre extrémité du cercle l’unanimité revient. C’est quand les citoyens tombés dans la servitude n’ont plus ni liberté ni volonté. Alors la crainte & la flaterie changent en acclamations les suffrages; on ne délibere plus, on adore ou l’on maudit. Telle étoit la vile maniere d’opiner du Sénat sous les Empereurs. Quelquefois cela se faisoit avec des précautions ridicules: Tacite observe que sous Othon les Sénateurs accablant Vitellius d’exécrations, affectoient de faire en même tems un bruit épouvantable, afin que, si par hazard il devenoit le maitre, il ne put savoir ce que chacun d’eux avoit dit.
De ces diverses considérations naissent les maximes sur lesquelles on doit regler la maniere de compter les voix & de comparer les avis, selon que la volonté générale est plus ou moins facile à connoitre, & l’Etat plus ou moins déclinant.
Il n’y a qu’une seule loi qui par sa nature exige un consentement unanime. C’est le pacte social: car l’association civile est l’acte du monde le plus volontaire; tout homme étant né libre & maitre de lui-même, nul ne peut, sous quelque prétexte que ce puisse être, l’assujettir sans son aveu. Décider que le fils d’une esclave nait esclave, c’est décider qu’il ne nait pas homme.
Si donc lors du pacte social il s’y trouve des opposans, leur opposition n’invalide pas le contract, elle empêche seulement qu’ils n’y soient compris; ce sont des étrangers parmi les Citoyens. Quand l’État est institué le consentement est dans la résidence; habiter le territoire c’est se soumettre à la souveraineté.
Hors ce contract primitif, la voix du plus grand nombre oblige toujours tous les autres; c’est une suite du contract même. Mais on demande comment un homme peut être libre, & forcé de se conformer à des volontés qui ne sont pas les siennes. Comment les opposans sont-ils libres & soumis à des loix auxquelles ils n’ont pas consenti?
Je reponds que la question est mal posée. Le Citoyen consent à toutes les loix, même à celles qu’on passe malgré lui, & même à celles qui le punissent quand il ose en violer quelqu’une. La volonté constante de tous les membres de l’Etat est la volonté générale; c’est par elle qu’ils sont citoyens & libres. Quand on propose une loi dans l’assemblée du Peuple, ce qu’on leur demande n’est pas précisément s’ils approuvent la proposition ou s’ils la rejettent, mais si elle est conforme ou non à la volonté générale qui est la leur; chacun en donnant son suffrage dit son avis là-dessus, & du calcul des voix se tire la déclaration de la volonté générale. Quand donc l’avis contraire au mien l’emporte, cela ne prouve autre chose sinon que je m’étois trompé, & que ce que j’estimois être la volonté générale ne l’étoit pas. Si mon avis particulier l’eut emporté, j’aurois fait autre chose que ce que j’avois voulu, c’est alors que je n’aurois pas été libre.
Ceci suppose, il est vrai, que tous les caracteres de la volonté générale sont encore dans la pluralité: quand ils cessent d’y être, quelque parti qu’on prenne il n’y a plus de liberté.
En montrant ci-devant comment on substituoit des volontés particulieres à la volonté générale dans les délibérations publiques, j’ai suffisamment indiqué les moyens praticables de prévenir cet abus; j’en parlerai encore ci-après. A l’égard du nombre proportionnel des suffrages pour déclarer cette volonté, j’ai aussi donné les principes sur lesquels on peut le déterminer. La différence d’une seule voix rompt l’égalité, un seul opposant rompt l’unanimité; mais entre l’unanimité & l’égalité il y a plusieurs partages inégaux, à chacun desquels on peut fixer ce nombre selon l’état & les besoins du corps politique.
Deux maximes générales peuvent servir à regler ces rapports: l’une, que plus les délibérations sont importantes & graves, plus l’avis qui l’emporte doit approcher de l’unanimité: l’autre, que plus l’affaire agitée exige de célérité, plus on doit resserrer la différence prescritte dans le partage des avis; dans les délibérations qu’il faut terminer sur le champ l’excédant d’une seule voix doit suffire. La premiere de ces maximes paroit plus convenable aux loix, & la seconde aux affaires. Quoiqu’il en soit, c’est sur leur combinaison que s’établissent les meilleurs rapports qu’on peut donner à la pluralité pour prononcer.
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.
On Voting.
It is clear from the preceding chapter that the manner in which public affairs are conducted can provide a fairly sure indication of the present state of morals and the health of the body politic. The more harmony prevails in assemblies—that is, the closer opinions come to unanimity—the more dominant the general will; but long debates, dissensions, and tumult announce the ascendancy of private interests and the decline of the state.
This seems less obvious when two or more orders enter into the state's constitution, as in Rome with the patricians and plebeians, whose quarrels often disturbed the comitia even in the republic's finest days. But the exception is more apparent than real: for then, through an inherent defect in the body politic, there are, so to speak, two states in one; what is untrue of the two together is true of each separately. Indeed, even in the most turbulent times, the people's plebiscites, when the Senate did not interfere, always passed peacefully and by a large majority of votes: the citizens having only one interest, the people had only one will.
At the other extreme of the circle, unanimity returns. This occurs when citizens, fallen into servitude, have neither freedom nor will. Then fear and flattery turn votes into acclamations: no one deliberates any longer; they worship or they curse. Such was the Senate's base manner of voting under the emperors. Sometimes it was done with ridiculous precautions: Tacitus observes that under Otho, the senators, while heaping curses on Vitellius, deliberately made a terrible din at the same time, so that if by chance he became master, he would not know what each of them had said.
From these various considerations arise the principles by which the manner of counting votes and comparing opinions should be regulated, according to whether the general will is easier or harder to discern, and whether the state is more or less far gone in decline.
Only one law by its nature requires unanimous consent: the social pact. For civil association is the most voluntary act in the world; every man being born free and his own master, no one may, under any pretext whatever, subject him without his consent. To decide that the son of a slave is born a slave is to decide that he is not born a man.
If, then, there are opponents when the social pact is made, their opposition does not invalidate the contract; it merely prevents their inclusion in it. They are foreigners among citizens. Once the state is instituted, consent is signified by residence: to inhabit its territory is to submit to its sovereignty.
Apart from this original contract, the vote of the greater number always binds all the rest; this follows from the contract itself. But the question arises how a man can be free and yet forced to conform to wills that are not his own. How can opponents be free while subject to laws to which they have not consented?
I answer that the question is wrongly put. The citizen consents to all the laws, even those passed against his wishes, and even those that punish him when he dares to break one. The constant will of all the members of the state is the general will; through it they are citizens and free. When a law is proposed in the people's assembly, what the people are asked is not exactly whether they approve or reject the proposal, but whether or not it conforms to the general will, which is their own. Each, in casting his vote, gives his opinion on this; and the count of the votes yields a declaration of the general will. Thus, when the opinion opposed to mine prevails, it proves nothing except that I was mistaken, and that what I thought was the general will was not. Had my private opinion prevailed, I would have done something other than what I wished; then I would not have been free.
This assumes, it is true, that all the marks of the general will are still found in the majority. When they cease to be found there, whatever course is taken, freedom is no more.
In showing earlier how private wills were substituted for the general will in public deliberations, I have sufficiently indicated practicable means of preventing this abuse; I shall speak of them again below. As to the proportion of votes needed to declare that will, I have also set out the principles on which it may be determined. A difference of one vote breaks a tie; a single opponent breaks unanimity. But between unanimity and a tie there are many unequal divisions, for each of which this number may be fixed according to the state and needs of the body politic.
Two general principles can serve to regulate these proportions. The first is that the more important and grave the deliberations, the closer the prevailing opinion should come to unanimity. The second is that the greater the urgency of the matter under discussion, the narrower the required margin between the opposing votes should be; in deliberations that must be concluded on the spot, a majority of one vote should suffice. The first of these principles seems more suitable to laws, and the second to matters of business. However that may be, it is their combination that establishes the best proportions for the majority required to decide.
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.
Voting.
The previous chapter shows that the way public affairs are handled can give a fairly reliable indication of the state of people's morals and the health of the political body. The more agreement there is in assemblies, that is, the closer opinions come to unanimity, the more the general will prevails. But long debates, disagreements, and disorder show that private interests are gaining the upper hand and the state is declining.
This seems less clear when the state includes two or more orders, as Rome did with its patricians and plebeians. Their quarrels often disturbed the voting assemblies even in the republic's best days. But this exception is more apparent than real. Because of a flaw built into the political body, there are, so to speak, two states in one. What is not true of the two together is true of each separately. In fact, even in the most turbulent periods, the people's plebiscites always passed quietly and by a large majority when the Senate did not interfere. Since the citizens shared a single interest, the people had a single will.
At the opposite end of the cycle, unanimity returns. This happens when citizens have fallen into servitude and have neither freedom nor a will of their own. Then fear and flattery turn votes into shouts of approval. People no longer deliberate; they worship or curse. That was the Senate's shameful way of voting under the emperors. Sometimes they took ridiculous precautions. Tacitus notes that under Otho, when senators heaped curses on Vitellius, they deliberately made a terrible noise at the same time. That way, if he happened to become their master, he could not tell what any individual senator had said.
These different considerations produce rules for counting votes and comparing opinions. The rules depend on how easy it is to know the general will and how far the state has declined.
Only one law, by its nature, requires everyone's consent: the social pact. Joining a civil society is the most voluntary act in the world. Every person is born free and in charge of themselves. No one can subject anyone to authority without their consent, whatever excuse they give. To decide that the child of an enslaved woman is born a slave is to decide that the child is not born human.
So if some people oppose the social pact when it is made, their opposition does not invalidate the contract. It simply keeps them from being included in it. They are foreigners among the citizens. Once the state is established, living there counts as consent. To live in its territory is to submit to its sovereignty.
Apart from that original contract, the vote of the majority always binds all the others. This follows from the contract itself. But one may ask how a person can be free while being forced to follow wills that are not their own. How can those who voted against laws still be free when they must obey laws they did not agree to?
My answer is that the question is put wrongly. The citizen agrees to all the laws, even those passed against their wishes, and even those that punish them when they dare to break one. The enduring will of all the members of the state is the general will. It is through that will that they are citizens and free. When a law is proposed in an assembly of the people, they are not being asked exactly whether they approve or reject the proposal. They are being asked whether it agrees with the general will, which is their own. Each person gives an opinion on this by voting, and the counting of votes produces a declaration of the general will. So when the opinion opposite to mine wins, it proves only that I was mistaken: what I thought was the general will was not. If my private opinion had won, I would have done something other than what I wanted. That is when I would not have been free.
This assumes, of course, that the majority still has all the qualities of the general will. Once it no longer does, there is no freedom, whichever side one takes.
I have already shown how private wills are substituted for the general will in public deliberations. In doing so, I have sufficiently indicated practical ways to prevent this abuse, and I will discuss them again later. I have also given the principles for deciding what proportion of votes is needed to declare the general will. A difference of one vote breaks a tie; one dissenting voter breaks unanimity. But between unanimity and a tie there are various unequal divisions. For each of them, the necessary number can be set according to the condition and needs of the political body.
Two general rules can help set these proportions. First, the more important and serious the decision, the closer the winning opinion should come to unanimity. Second, the more urgently the issue must be settled, the narrower the required margin between opposing opinions should be. For decisions that must be made immediately, a lead of one vote should be enough. The first rule seems better suited to laws and the second to practical affairs. In any case, combining them gives the best standards for determining what majority is needed to make a decision.