Part II, Chapter XIX, 1

OF THE SEVERAL KINDS OF COMMONWEALTH BY INSTITUTION, AND OF SUCCESSION TO SOVEREIGN POWER

Commonwealths differ according to who is sovereign, that is, who represents each and every member of the multitude. Sovereignty belongs either to one man or to an assembly of more than one; and in that assembly either everyone has the right to take part, or only certain people distinguished from the rest. Clearly, then, there can be only three kinds of commonwealth. The representative must be one or more; if more, the assembly must comprise everyone or only some. Where the representative is one man, the commonwealth is a monarchy; where it is an assembly open to all who wish to attend, it is a democracy, or popular commonwealth; where it is an assembly of only some, it is an aristocracy. There can be no other kind of commonwealth, for the entire sovereign power—which I have shown to be indivisible—must belong to one, to some, or to all.

Other names for governments appear in histories and books of politics, such as tyranny and oligarchy. These name not different forms of government, but the same forms viewed with dislike. Those discontented under monarchy call it tyranny; those displeased with aristocracy call it oligarchy. Likewise, those who suffer under democracy call it anarchy, meaning the absence of government. Yet I think no one believes the absence of government is a new kind of government. For the same reason no one should believe that a government changes its kind depending on whether people like it or dislike it, or feel oppressed by its rulers.

Clearly, people in absolute liberty may, if they wish, authorize one man to represent them individually just as they may authorize any assembly; and so they may submit themselves, if they think fit, as absolutely to a monarch as to any other representative. Once sovereign power has been established, therefore, no other representative of the same people may exist except for particular purposes limited by the sovereign. Otherwise there would be two sovereigns, each person represented by two actors whose opposition would divide a power that must remain indivisible if people are to live in peace, and thus return the multitude to the condition of war, defeating the purpose for which sovereignty is instituted. It would be absurd to suppose that when a sovereign assembly invites the people under its rule to send deputies to present their advice or desires, these deputies thereby become the people's absolute representatives instead of the assembly itself. It is equally absurd to suppose this under a monarchy. I cannot understand why so obvious a truth has lately been so little observed. In a monarchy, a man whose sovereignty rested on 600 years of hereditary descent was alone called sovereign, addressed as Majesty by every subject, and unquestionably accepted by them as their King; yet he was never regarded as their representative. That name passed without dispute to the men whom the people sent at his command to present their petitions and, if he allowed it, offer him advice. Let this be a warning to those who truly and absolutely represent a people: they should teach others the nature of that office, and take care not to admit any other general representation on any pretext, if they intend to discharge the trust committed to them.

These three kinds of commonwealth differ not in power but in their convenience, or fitness, for producing the peace and security of the people, the end for which they were instituted. In comparing monarchy with the other two, we may observe first that whoever bears the people's person, whether alone or as a member of an assembly, also bears his own natural person. Though he takes care in his public capacity to secure the common interest, he is at least as careful to secure the private advantage of himself, his family, his kin, and his friends. When public and private interests conflict, he generally prefers his own, for people's passions are commonly stronger than their reason. Consequently, the public interest fares best where it is most closely joined to private interest. In a monarchy, the monarch's private interest is the public interest. His wealth, power, and honor arise solely from the wealth, strength, and reputation of his subjects. No king can be rich, glorious, or secure if his subjects are poor or despised, or too weak through want or dissension to sustain a war against their enemies. In a democracy or aristocracy, by contrast, public prosperity does less for the private fortune of a corrupt or ambitious man than treacherous counsel, a perfidious act, or a civil war often can.

Secondly, a monarch may seek counsel from whomever he chooses, whenever and wherever he chooses. He can therefore hear people knowledgeable about the matter under deliberation, whatever their rank, as far in advance of action as he wishes and with whatever secrecy he requires. A sovereign assembly in need of counsel, however, admits only those who have a preexisting right to participate. Most of these are more practiced in acquiring wealth than knowledge, and they deliver long speeches which can, and commonly do, stir people to action but cannot guide them in it. The flame of passion never illuminates understanding; it dazzles it. Nor can an assembly, because of its numbers, ever receive counsel in secrecy.

Thirdly, a monarch's decisions are subject to no instability beyond that of human nature. Assemblies have, in addition, an instability arising from their numbers. If a few supporters of an earlier decision are absent—through complacency, negligence, or private hindrances—or a few opponents take the trouble to attend, all that was decided yesterday may be undone today.

Fourthly, a monarch cannot disagree with himself out of envy or self-interest, but an assembly can, even to the point of bringing about civil war.

Fifthly, monarchy has this disadvantage: by the power of one man a subject may be stripped of all he owns to enrich a favorite or a flatterer. This, I acknowledge, is a great and unavoidable disadvantage. But the same can happen when sovereign power belongs to an assembly, for its power is the same. Its members are as vulnerable to bad advice and the persuasion of orators as a monarch is to flatterers; flattering one another, they serve one another's greed and ambition in turn. Moreover, an assembly's favorites are numerous, and their relatives far more numerous than a monarch's. Besides, a monarch's favorite is as capable of helping his friends as of harming his enemies; but orators, the favorites of sovereign assemblies, have great power to harm and little power to save. For it takes less eloquence to accuse than to defend—such is human nature—and condemnation looks more like justice than acquittal does.

Sixthly, monarchy has the disadvantage that sovereignty may descend upon a child, or on someone unable to distinguish good from evil. The difficulty is that the exercise of his power must then be placed in the hands of another man or an assembly, governing in his right and in his name as guardians and protectors of his person and authority. But to say that placing the exercise of sovereign power in the hands of a man or an assembly is itself a disadvantage is to say that all government is worse than confusion and civil war. Any genuine danger must therefore arise from competition among those seeking an office of such honor and profit. To see that this disadvantage does not spring from monarchy itself, consider whether the preceding monarch has appointed a guardian for his infant successor, either expressly by will or tacitly by allowing the established custom to stand. If so, any resulting trouble must be attributed not to monarchy but to the ambition and injustice of subjects, which pose the same danger under every form of government where the people have not been properly instructed in their duty and the rights of sovereignty. Or suppose the preceding monarch made no provision at all for guardianship. The Law of Nature then supplies a sufficient rule: guardianship belongs to whoever has by nature the strongest interest in preserving the child's authority, and stands to gain least from the child's death or loss of power. Since everyone naturally pursues his own advantage and advancement, to place a child in the hands of those who can advance themselves by destroying or harming him is not guardianship but treachery. With sufficient provision thus made against every legitimate quarrel over government during a child's reign, any dispute that disturbs public peace must be blamed on the subjects' ambition and ignorance of their duty, not on monarchy. Conversely, every great commonwealth governed by a large sovereign assembly is, in deliberating on peace, war, and laws, in much the same position as a child ruler. A child lacks the judgment to dissent from the advice he receives, and must therefore follow the guidance of the person or people entrusted with him; likewise an assembly lacks the freedom to dissent from the advice of the majority, whether good or bad. A child needs a guardian or protector to preserve his person and authority; likewise, in great dangers and disturbances, a sovereign assembly in a great commonwealth needs Custodes Libertatis, guardians of liberty: dictators or protectors of its authority. These are effectively temporary monarchs, entrusted for a time with the full exercise of the assembly's power; and when their term expires, they have more often deprived the assembly of that power than protectors, regents, or other guardians have deprived infant kings of theirs.

Of the Different Kinds of Commonwealth by Institution, and Succession to Sovereign Power

Commonwealths differ according to who is sovereign: who represents every person in the multitude. Sovereignty belongs either to one person or to an assembly of several people. Either everyone has a right to join that assembly, or only certain people distinguished from the rest do. So there can be only three kinds of Commonwealth. The representative must be one person or more than one; if more, the assembly includes either everyone or only some people. If one person represents the people, the Commonwealth is a monarchy. If the representative is an assembly open to everyone who wants to attend, it is a democracy, or popular Commonwealth. If only some people make up the assembly, it is an aristocracy. There is no other kind: sovereign power, which I have shown cannot be divided, must belong in full to one, to some, or to all.

Histories and books about politics use other names for governments, including tyranny and oligarchy. But these are not other forms of government. They are names people give to the same forms when they dislike them. People unhappy under a monarchy call it tyranny; those unhappy under an aristocracy call it oligarchy. People who suffer under democracy call it anarchy, meaning the absence of government. Yet I think no one believes the absence of government is a new kind of government. By the same reasoning, no one should believe that a government changes its kind depending on whether people approve of it or dislike it, or are oppressed by its rulers.

People who enjoy complete freedom can choose to give one man the authority to represent every one of them, just as they can give it to any assembly. They can therefore choose to submit themselves as completely to a monarch as to any other representative. But once sovereign power has been established, no one else can represent the same people except for particular purposes limited by the sovereign. Another general representative would mean setting up two sovereigns. Each person's role would be performed by two representatives, whose conflict would divide a power that must remain undivided if people are to live in peace. This would return the multitude to a state of war, defeating the purpose of establishing sovereignty. Suppose a sovereign assembly asks its people to send deputies to report their advice or requests. It would be absurd to regard those deputies, rather than the assembly, as the people's absolute representative. It is just as absurd to do so under a monarchy. I do not know how such an obvious truth has lately been so little noticed. In a monarchy, a man inherited sovereignty through 600 years of succession. Every subject called him sovereign, addressed him as Majesty, and unquestionably accepted him as King. Yet no one considered him their representative. Instead, without objection, people gave that title to the men they sent at his command to deliver their petitions and, if he allowed it, advise him. Those who truly and fully represent a people should therefore teach people what that office means. If they intend to carry out the trust placed in them, they should be careful never to admit any other general representation for any reason.

The three kinds of Commonwealth do not differ in their power. They differ in how well suited they are to produce the peace and safety of the people, the purpose for which they were established. To compare monarchy with the other two kinds, consider first that anyone who represents the people, or belongs to an assembly that does so, is also an individual with a private life. A representative may work for the common good in a public capacity. But that person is at least as concerned, and often more concerned, with the private welfare of themselves, their family, relatives, and friends. When public and private interests conflict, most people put their private interests first, since passions are usually stronger than reason. So the public benefits most where private and public interests are most closely joined. In monarchy, the monarch's private interest is the same as the public interest. A monarch's wealth, power, and honor depend entirely on the wealth, strength, and reputation of the subjects. No king can be rich, honored, or secure if his subjects are poor, despised, or too weak through poverty or division to fight their enemies. But in a democracy or aristocracy, public prosperity often does less for the private fortune of a corrupt or ambitious member of the assembly than dishonest advice, betrayal, or civil war can do.

Second, a monarch can seek advice from whoever he wants, whenever and wherever he wants. He can hear from people experienced in the matter under consideration regardless of their rank. He can consult them as long before taking action as he likes, and as privately as he likes. When a sovereign assembly needs advice, however, only people with an existing right to participate may offer it. Most of these people have more experience gaining wealth than gaining knowledge. They offer their advice in long speeches that can, and often do, stir people to action but cannot guide their actions. Passion's heat never makes understanding clearer; it only dazzles it. Nor can an assembly, because of its size, find a place or time to consult in secret.

Third, a monarch's decisions are subject only to the inconsistency found in human nature. An assembly is also subject to the inconsistency caused by its numbers. A few supporters of a decision may be absent through overconfidence, negligence, or personal difficulties. Or a few opponents may attend diligently. Either change can overturn today what the assembly decided yesterday.

Fourth, a monarch cannot oppose himself out of envy or self-interest. Members of an assembly can oppose one another for those reasons, even to the point of causing civil war.

Fifth, monarchy has this disadvantage: one person may use his power to strip a subject of everything they own in order to enrich a favorite or a flatterer. I admit that this is a serious and unavoidable disadvantage. But it can also happen under a sovereign assembly. Its power is the same. An assembly is as vulnerable to bad advice and persuasive speakers as a monarch is to flatterers. Its members can flatter one another and take turns serving one another's greed and ambition. Moreover, an assembly has many favorites and far more relatives of favorites than any monarch does. A monarch's favorite can help his friends as well as hurt his enemies. But influential speakers, the favorites of sovereign assemblies, have great power to harm and little power to save. Because of human nature, it takes less eloquence to accuse than to defend, and condemnation looks more like justice than acquittal does.

Sixth, another disadvantage of monarchy is that sovereignty may pass to a child or to someone unable to tell good from evil. The problem is that another person or assembly must exercise that person's power, governing in the sovereign's name and by the sovereign's right as guardians and protectors of the sovereign's person and authority. But to say it is a disadvantage to put the exercise of sovereign power in the hands of a person or assembly is to say that every government is worse than disorder and civil war. The only real danger that can be claimed here is a struggle among people competing for an office with such great honor and profit. To show that this problem is not caused by monarchy, consider two possibilities. The previous monarch may have appointed someone to care for his child successor, either expressly in a will or silently by leaving the accepted custom unchallenged. If trouble then arises, blame not monarchy but the ambition and injustice of subjects. That problem exists under every kind of government when people are poorly taught their duties and the rights of sovereignty. Or the previous monarch may have made no arrangements at all for the child's guardianship. In that case the Law of Nature provides a sufficient rule: guardianship goes to the person with the strongest natural interest in preserving the child's authority and the least to gain from the child's death or loss of power. Everyone naturally seeks their own advantage and advancement. Giving a child into the power of people who can advance themselves by destroying or harming the child would be betrayal, not guardianship. Since this rule answers every reasonable dispute about governing under a child, any struggle that disturbs public peace must be blamed on subjects' ambition and ignorance of duty, not on monarchy. On the other hand, every large Commonwealth governed by a large sovereign assembly is in the same position as one governed by a child when it comes to decisions about peace, war, and laws. A child cannot judge well enough to reject advice and must therefore follow the advice of the person or persons entrusted with the child. Likewise, an assembly cannot reject the advice of its majority, whether good or bad. A child needs a guardian or protector to preserve the child's person and authority. In times of great danger and disorder, a sovereign assembly in a large Commonwealth likewise needs Custodes Libertatis, or guardians of liberty: dictators or protectors of its authority. These are essentially temporary monarchs entrusted for a time with the full exercise of its power. At the end of that time such guardians have deprived assemblies of their power more often than protectors, regents, or other guardians have deprived child kings of theirs.