Chapter VI: Part 6

74. But though even an unenlightened general will is the general will still, and (as we are left to infer) cannot in its decisions do otherwise than promote the public good, Rousseau distinctly contemplates the possibility of the general will being so overpowered by particular interests that it finds no expression in the votes of a popular assembly, though the assembly be really one of a whole people, and the vote of the majority is duly taken. (IV, i.) In such cases it is not that the general will is 'annihilated or corrupted; it is always constant, unalterable, and pure.' Even in the individual whose vote is governed by his private interest the general will is not extinct, nor is he unaware either of what the public good requires or of the fact that what is for the public good is also for his own. But his share in the public evil to which he knows that his vote will contribute, seems nothing by the side of the special private good which he hopes to gain. By his vote, in short, he does not answer the question, Is so and so for the advantage of the state? but, Is it for the advantage of this particular man or party? (Ib.)

75. The test of the dominance of the general will in assemblies of the people is an approach to unanimity. 'Long debates, discussions, tumult, indicate the ascendency of particular interests and the decline of the state.' (IV, ii.) Rousseau, however, does not venture to say that absolute unanimity in the assembly is necessary to an expression of the general will, or to give a law a claim upon the obedience of the subjects. This would have been to render effectual legislation impossible. Upon the theory, however, of the foundation of legitimate sovereignty in consent, the theory that the natural right of the individual is violated unless he is himself a joint imponent of the law which he is called to obey, it is not easy to see what rightful claim there can be to the submission of a minority. Rousseau so far recognises the difficulty that he requires unanimity in the original compact. (IV, ii.) If among those who are parties to it there are others who oppose it, the result is simply that the latter are not included in it. 'They are strangers among the citizens.' But this does not explain how they are to be rightfully controlled, on the principle that the only rightful control is founded on consent; or, if they are not controlled, what is the value of the 'social compact.' How can the object of the pact be attained while those who are bound by it have these 'strangers' living among them who are not bound by it, and who, not being bound by it, cannot be rightfully controlled? The difficulty must recur with each generation of the descendants of those who were parties to the original pact. The parties to the pact, it is true, have no right to resist the general will, because the pact is _ex hypothesi_ to the effect that each individual, in all things of common concern, will take the general will for his own. The true form, therefore, of the question upon which each party to the pact should consider himself to be voting in the assembly is, as Rousseau puts it, not 'Is the proposed measure what I wish for, or what I approve, or no?' but 'Is it in conformity with the general will?' If, having voted upon this question, he finds himself in a minority, he is bound to suppose that he is mistaken in his views of the general will, and to accept the decision of the majority as the general will which, by the pact, he is bound to obey. So far all is consistent; though how the individual is to be answered if he pleads that the vote of the assembly has been too much biassed by particular interests to be an expression of the general will, and that therefore it is not binding on him, does not appear.

76. But after the first generation of those who were parties to the supposed original compact, what is to settle whether anyone is a party to it or no? Rousseau faces the question, but his only answer is that when once the state is instituted, consent is implied in residence; 'to dwell on the territory is to submit to the sovereignty.' (IV, ii.) This answer, however, will scarcely stand examination. Rousseau himself does not consider that residence in the same region with the original parties to the pact renders those so resident also parties to it. Why should it do so, when the pact has descended to a later generation? It may be argued of course that everyone residing in a settled society, which secures him in his rights of person and property, has the benefit of the society from the mere fact of his residence in it, and is therefore morally bound to accept its laws. But this is to abandon the doctrine of obligation being founded on consent. Residence in a territory governed by a certain sovereign can only be taken to imply consent to the rule of that sovereign, if there is any real possibility of relinquishing it, and this there can scarcely ever be.

77. Rousseau certainly carried out the attempt to reconcile submission to government with the existence of natural rights antecedent to the institution of government, by the hypothesis of a foundation of government in consent, more consistently than any other writer; and his result shows the hopelessness of the attempt. To the consistency of his theory he sacrifices every claim to right on the part of any state except one in which the whole body of citizens directly legislates, i.e. on the part of nearly all states then or now existing; and finally he can only justify the control of the minority by the majority in any state whatever by a subterfuge. It does not follow, however, because the doctrine of natural rights and the consequent conception of government as founded on compact are untenable, that there is no truth in the conception of the state or sovereign as representing a general will, and as authorised or entitled to obedience on that account. It is this conception, as the permanently valuable thing in Rousseau, that we have now further to consider.

78. The first remark upon it which suggests itself is that, as Rousseau puts the matter, there may be an independent political society in which there is no sovereign power at all, or in which, at any rate, it is not exercised. The sovereign is the general will. But the general will can only be exercised through the assembly of a whole people. The necessary conditions of its exercise, then, in Rousseau's time, were only fulfilled in the Swiss cantons and (perhaps) in the United Provinces. In England they were fulfilled in a way during the time of a general election. But even where these conditions were fulfilled, it did not follow that the general will was put in force. It might be overpowered, as in the Roman comitia, by particular interests. Is it then to be understood that, according to Rousseau, either there can be independent states without any sovereignty in actual exercise, or that the European states of his time, and equally the great states of the present day (for in none of these is there any more exercise of the general will than in the England of his time), are not properly states at all?

79. We may try to answer this question by distinguishing sovereign _de facto_ from sovereign _de jure_, and saying that what Rousseau meant was that the general will, as defined by him and as exercised under the conditions which he prescribes, was the only sovereign _de jure_, but that he would have recognised in the ordinary states of his time a sovereign _de facto_; and that in the same way, when he describes the institution of government as arising out of a twofold act consequent on the original pact (an act in which the sovereign people first decides that there shall be a government, and then, not as a sovereign people, but as a democratic magistracy, decides in what hands the government shall be placed), he does not conceive himself to be describing what has actually taken place, but what is necessary to give a government a moral title to obedience. Whether Rousseau himself had this distinction in view is not always clear. At the outset he states his object thus: 'Man is born free, and everywhere he is in fetters. How has this change come about? I do not know. What can render it legitimate? That is a question which I deem myself able to answer.' (I, i.) The answer is the account of the establishment of a sovereign by social pact. It might be inferred from this that he considered himself in the sequel to be delineating transactions to the actual occurrence of which he did not commit himself, but which, if they did occur, would constitute a duty as distinct from a physical necessity of submission on the part of subjects to a sovereign, and to which some equivalent must be supposed, in the shape of a tacit present convention on the part of the members of a state, if their submission is to be matter of duty as distinct from physical necessity, or is to be explained as a matter of right by the ostensible sovereign. This, however, would merely be an inference as to his meaning. His actual procedure is to describe transactions, by which the sovereignty of the general will was established, and by which it in turn established a government, as if they had actually taken place. Nor is he content with supposing a tacit consent of the people as rendering subjection legitimate. The people whose submission to law is to be 'legitimate' must actually take part in sovereign legislative assemblies. It is very rarely that he uses language which implies the possibility of a sovereign power otherwise constituted. He does indeed speak [1] of the possibility of a prince (in the special meaning of the term, as representing the head of the executive) usurping sovereignty, and speaks of the sovereignty thus usurped as existing _de facto_, not _de jure_; but in no other connection (so far as I have observed) does he speak of anything short of the 'volonté générale' exercised through the vote of an assembled people as sovereign at all. And the whole drift of his doctrine is to show that no sovereign, otherwise constituted, had any claim on obedience. There was no state in Europe at his time in which his doctrine would not have justified rebellion, and even under existing representative systems the conditions are not fulfilled which according to him are necessary to give laws the claim on our obedience which arises from their being an expression of the general will. The only system under which these conditions could be fulfilled would be one of federated self-governing communes, small enough to allow each member an active share in the legislation of the commune. It is probably the influence of Rousseau that has made such a system the ideal of political enthusiasts in France.

[1] 'If it happened that the prince had a private will more active than that of the sovereign, and that he made use of the public force placed in his hands as the instrument of this private will, there would result, so to speak, two sovereignties, one _de jure_, the other _de facto_; but from that moment the social union would disappear, and the body politic would be dissolved.' (III, i.) 'When the prince ceases to administer the state according to the laws, and usurps the sovereign power ... then the state in the larger sense is dissolved, and there is formed another within it, composed only of the members of the government ... the social pact is broken ... and all the ordinary citizens return as a matter of right to their state of natural liberty, and are merely forced, but not obliged, to obey.' (III, X.)

F. _SOVEREIGNTY AND THE GENERAL WILL._ Rousseau and Austin.

80. The questions then arise (1) whether there is any truth in Rousseau's conception of sovereignty as founded upon a 'volonté générale' in its application to actual sovereignty. Does anything like such a sovereignty exist in the societies properly called political? (2) Is there any truth in speaking of a sovereignty _de jure_ founded upon the 'volonté générale? (3) If there is, are we to hold with Rousseau that this 'will' can only be exercised through the votes of a sovereign people?

81. (1) The first question is one which, if we take our notions of sovereignty from such writers as Austin, we shall be at first disposed decidedly to negative. Austin is considered a master of precise definition. We may begin, therefore, by looking to his definition of sovereignty and the terms connected with it. His general definition of law runs as follows: 'A law, in the most general and comprehensive acceptation in which the term, in its literal meaning, is employed, may be said to be a rule laid down for the guidance of an intelligent being by an intelligent being having power over him.' [1] These rules are of two kinds: (1) laws set by God to men, or the law of nature; and (2) laws set by men to men, or human law. We are only concerned with the latter, the human laws. These are again distinguished into two classes, according as they are or are not established by political superiors. 'Of the laws or rules set by men to men, some are established by _political_ superiors, sovereign and subject; by persons exercising supreme and subordinate _government_, in independent nations, or independent political societies' (pp. 88 and 89). 'The aggregate of the rules established by political superiors is frequently styled _positive_ law, or law existing _by position_' (p. 89). This is distinguished from 'positive morality.' Laws are further explained as a species of commands. A command is a signification of desire, distinguished by the fact that the party to whom it is addressed is liable to evil from the party expressing the desire in case he does not comply with it (p. 91). This liability to evil forms the sanction of the command. Where a command 'obliges _generally_ to acts or forbearances of _a class_, it is a law' (p. 95). 'Every positive law, or every law simply and strictly so called, is set by a sovereign person or a sovereign body of persons to a member or members of the independent political society wherein that person or body is sovereign or supreme. Or (changing the expression) it is set by a monarch, or sovereign member, to a person or persons in a state of subjection to its author. Even though it sprung directly from another fountain or source, it is a positive law, or a law strictly so called, by the institution of that present sovereign in the character of political superior. Or (borrowing the language of Hobbes) the legislator is he, not by whose authority the law was first made, but by whose authority it continues to be a law' (pp. 225 and 226).

'The notions of sovereignty and independent political society may be expressed concisely thus. If a _determinate_ human superior, _not_ in a habit of obedience to a like superior, receive _habitual_ obedience from the _bulk_ of a given society, that determinate superior is sovereign in that society, and the society (including the superior) is a society political and independent' (p. 226).

'In order that a given society may form a society political and independent, the two distinguishing marks which I have mentioned above must unite. The _generality_ of the given society must be in a _habit_ of obedience to a _determinate_ and _common_ superior; whilst that determinate person, or determinate body of persons, must _not_ be habitually obedient to a determinate person or body. It is the union of that positive with this negative mark which renders that certain superior sovereign or supreme, and which renders that given society (including that certain superior) a society political and independent' (p. 227).

[1] _Lectures on Jurisprudence_, vol. i. p. 88 (edit. of 1869, in two vols.)

82. It may be remarked in passing that, according to the above, while every law implies a sovereign, from whom directly or indirectly (through a subordinate political superior) it proceeds, it is not necessary to a sovereign that his commands should take the form of laws, as opposed to 'particular or occasional commands.' A superior might signify his desires only in the form of such particular and occasional commands, and yet there might be a habit of obedience to him, and he might not be habitually obedient to any other person or body; in which case he would be a 'sovereign.'

83. Austin's doctrine seems diametrically opposite to one which finds the sovereign in a 'volonté générale,' because _(a)_ it only recognises sovereignty in a _determinate_ person or persons, and _(b)_ it considers the essence of sovereignty to lie in the power, on the part of such determinate persons, to put compulsion without limit on subjects, to make them do exactly as it pleases. [1] The 'volonté générale,' on the other hand, it would seem, cannot be identified with the will of any determinate person or persons; it can, indeed, according to Rousseau, only be expressed by a vote of the whole body of subject citizens; but when you have got them together, there is no certainty that their vote does express it; and it does not--at any rate necessarily--command any power of compulsion, much less unlimited power. Rousseau expressly contemplates the possibility of the executive power conflicting with and overbearing the general will. Indeed, according to his view, it was the ordinary state of things; and though this view may be exaggerated, no one could maintain that the 'general will,' in any intelligible sense of the words, had always unlimited force at its command.

[1] Cf. Maine's statement of Austin's doctrine in _The Early History of Institutions_, pp. 349 and 350: 'There is in every independent political community--that is, in every political community not in the habit of obedience to a superior above itself--some single person or some combination of persons which has the power of compelling the other members of the community to do exactly as it pleases. This single person or group--this individual or this collegiate sovereign (to employ Austin's phrase) may be found in every independent political community as certainly as the centre of gravity in a mass of matter. If the community be violently or voluntarily divided into a number of separate fragments, then, as soon as each fragment has settled down (perhaps after an interval of anarchy) into a state of equilibrium, the sovereign will exist, and with proper care will be discoverable in each of the now independent portions. The sovereignty over the North American colonies of Great Britain had its seat in one place before they became the United States, in another place afterwards; but in both cases there was a discoverable sovereign somewhere. This sovereign, this person or combination of persons, universally occurring in all independent political communities, has in all such communities one characteristic, common to all the shapes sovereignty may take, the possession of irresistible force, not necessarily exerted, but capable of being exerted. According to the terminology preferred by Austin, the sovereign, if a single person, is or should be called a monarch; if a small group, the name is an oligarchy; if a group of considerable dimensions, an aristocracy; if very large and numerous, a democracy. Limited monarchy, a phrase perhaps more fashionable in Austin's day than it is now, is abhorred by Austin, and the government of Great Britain he classes with aristocracies. That which all the forms of sovereignty have in common is the power (the power but not necessarily the will) to put compulsion without limit on subjects or fellow-subjects.'

84. The two views thus seem mutually exclusive, but perhaps it may be by taking each as complementary to the other that we shall gain the truest view of sovereignty as it actually exists. In those states of society in which obedience is habitually rendered by the bulk of society to some determinate superior, single or corporate, who, in turn, is independent of any other superior, the obedience is so rendered because this determinate superior is regarded as expressing or embodying what may properly be called the general will, and is virtually conditional upon the fact that the superior is so regarded. It is by no means an unlimited power of compulsion that the superior exercises, but one dependent in the long run, or dependent for the purpose of insuring an _habitual_ obedience, upon conformity to certain convictions on the part of the subjects as to what is for their general interest. As Maine says (_Early History of Institutions_, p. 359), 'the vast mass of influences, which we may call for shortness moral, perpetually shapes, limits, or forbids the actual direction of the forces of society by its sovereign.' Thus, quite apart from any belief in the right of revolution, from the view that the people in any state are entitled to an ultimate sovereignty, or are sovereign _de jure_, and may withdraw either legislative or executive power from the hands in which it has been placed in the event of its being misused, it may fairly be held that the ostensible sovereign--the determinate person or persons to whom we can point and say that with him or them lies the ultimate power of exacting habitual obedience from the people--is only able to exercise this power in virtue of an assent on the part of the people, nor is this assent reducible to the fear of the sovereign felt by each individual. It is rather a common desire for certain ends--specially the 'pax vitaeque securitas'--to which the observance of law or established usage contributes, and in most cases implies no conscious reference on the part of those whom it influences to any supreme coercive power at all. Thus when it has been ascertained in regard to any people that there is some determinate person or persons to whom, in the last resort, they pay habitual obedience, we may call this person or persons sovereign if we please, but we must not ascribe to him or them the real power which governs the actions and forbearances of the people, even those actions and forbearances (only a very small part) which are prescribed by the sovereign. This power is a much more complex and less determinate, or less easily determinable, thing; but a sense of possessing common interests, a desire for common objects on the part of the people, is always the condition of its existence. Let this sense or desire--which may properly be called general will--cease to operate, or let it come into general conflict with the sovereign's commands, and the habitual obedience will cease also.

85. If, then, those who adopt the Austinian definition of a sovereign mean no more than that in a thoroughly developed state there must be some determinate person or persons, with whom, in the last resort, lies the recognised power of imposing laws and enforcing their observance, over whom no legal control can be exercised, and that even in the most thorough democracy, where laws are passed in the assembly of the whole people, it is still with determinate persons, viz. a majority of those who meet in the assembly, that this power resides, they are doubtless right. So far they only need to be reminded that the thoroughly developed state, as characterised by the existence of such definite sovereignty, is even among civilised people but imperfectly established. It is perfectly established (1) where customary or 'common' or 'judge-made' law, which does not proceed from any determinate person or persons, is either superseded by express enactments that do proceed from such person or persons, or (as in England) is so frequently trenched upon by statute law that it may fairly be said only to survive upon sufferance, or to be itself virtually enacted by the sovereign legislature; and (2) where no question of right can be raised between local legislatures or authorities and the legislature claiming to be supreme, as in America before the war of secession, and as might perhaps be found to be the case in Germany now, if on certain educational and ecclesiastical matters the imperial legislature came to be at issue with the local legislatures. But though the organisation of the state, even in civilised and independent nations, is not everywhere complete, it no doubt involves the residence with determinate persons, or a body or bodies, of supreme i.e. legally uncontrolled power to make and enforce laws. The term 'sovereign' having acquired this definite meaning, Rousseau was misleading his readers when he ascribed sovereignty to the general will. He could only be understood as meaning, and in fact understood himself to mean, that there was no legitimate sovereign except in the most thorough democracy, as just described.

86. But the Austinians, having found their sovereign, are apt to regard it as a much more important institution than--if it is to be identified with a determinate person or persons--it really is; they are apt to suppose that the sovereign, with the coercive power (i.e. the power of operating on the fears of the subjects) which it exercises, is the real determinant of the habitual obedience of the people, at any rate of their habitual obedience in respect of those acts and forbearances which are prescribed by law. But, as we have seen, this is not the case. It then needs to be pointed out that if the sovereign power is to be understood in this fuller, less abstract sense, if we mean by it the real determinant of the habitual obedience of the people, we must look for its sources much more widely and deeply than the 'analytical jurists' do; that it can no longer be said to reside in a determinate person or persons, but in that impalpable congeries of the hopes and fears of a people, bound together by common interests and sympathy, which we call the general will.

87. It may be objected that this view of the general will, as that on which habitual obedience to the sovereign really depends, is at best only applicable to 'self-governing' communities, not to those under a despotic sovereign. The answer is that it is applicable in all forms of society where a sovereign in the sense above defined (as a determinate person or persons with whom in the last resort lies the recognised power of imposing laws and enforcing their observance) really exists, but that there are many where there cannot fairly be said to be any such sovereign at all; in other words, that in all organised communities the power which practically commands the habitual obedience of the people in respect of those acts and forbearances which are enjoined by law or authoritative custom, is one dependent on the general will of the community, but this power is often not sovereign in the sense in which the ruler of an independent state is sovereign. It may very well be that there is at the same time another power merely coercive, a power really operating on people simply through their fears, to which obedience is rendered, and which is not in turn representative of a general will; but where this is the case we shall find that such power is only in contact with the people, so to speak, at one or two points; that their actions and forbearances, as determined by law and custom, are in the main independent of it; that it cannot in any proper sense be said to be a sovereign power over them; at any rate, not in the sense in which we speak of King, Lords, and Commons as sovereign in England.

88. Maine has pointed out (_Early History of Institutions_, Lecture XIII.) that the great despotic empires of ancient times, excluding the Roman, of which more shall be said directly, and modern empires in the East were in the main tax-collecting institutions. They exercise coercive force over their subjects of the most violent kind for certain purposes at certain times, but they do not impose laws as distinct from 'particular and occasional commands' nor do they judicially administer or enforce a customary law. In a certain sense the subjects render them habitual obedience, i.e. they habitually submit when the agents of the empire descend on them for taxes and recruits, but in the general tenor of their lives their actions and forbearances are regulated by authorities with which the empire never interferes,--with which probably it could not interfere without destroying itself. These authorities can scarcely be said to reside in a determinate person or persons at all, but, so far as they do so, they reside mixedly in priests or exponents of customary religion, in heads of families acting within the family, and in some village-council acting beyond the limits of the family. Whether, in such a state of things, we are to consider that there is a sovereign power at all, and, if so, where it is to be considered to reside, are chiefly questions of words. If complete uncontrolledness by a stronger power is essential to sovereignty, the local authorities just spoken of are not sovereign. The conquering despot could descend on them and sweep them away, leaving anarchy in their place, and he does compel them to be put in exercise for a particular purpose, that of raising tribute or sometimes recruits. On the other hand, these authorities, which represent a general will of the communities, form the power which determines such actions and forbearances of the individual as do not proceed from natural inclination. The military ruler, indeed, is sovereign in the sense of possessing irresistible coercive power, but in fact this power is only exercised within narrow limits, and not at all in any legislative or judicial way. If exercised beyond these limits and in conflict with customary law, the result would be a general anarchy. The truest way of expressing the state of the case is to say that, taking the term 'sovereign' in the sense which we naturally associate with it, and in which it is used by modern European writers on sovereignty, there is under such conditions no sovereign, but that the practical regulation of life, except during intervals of military violence and anarchy, rests with authorities representing the general will, though these are to a certain extent interfered with by an alien force.

89. The same account is applicable to most cases of foreign dominion over a people with any organised common life of their own. The foreign power is not sovereign in the sense of being a maker or maintainer of laws. Law-making, under such conditions, there is properly none. The subject people inherits laws, written or unwritten, and maintains them for itself, a certain shelter from violence being afforded by the foreign power. Such, in the main, was the condition of North Italy, for instance, under Austrian domination. Where this is the case, the removal of the coercive power of the foreigner need not involve anarchy, or any violation of established rights (such as Hobbes supposes to follow necessarily from the deposition of an actual sovereign). The social order does not depend on the foreign dominion, and may survive it. The question whether in any particular case it actually can do so must depend on the possibility of preventing further foreign aggression, and on the question whether there is enough national unity in the subject people to prevent them from breaking up into hostile communities when the foreign dominion is removed.

90. It is otherwise where the foreign power is really a law-making and law-maintaining one, and is sovereign in that proper sense, as was the Roman Empire. But just so far as the Roman Empire was of this sovereign, i.e. law-making and law-maintaining, character, it derived its permanence, its hold on the 'habitual obedience' of its subjects, from the support of the general will. As the empire superseded customary or written laws of conquered countries, it conferred rights of Roman citizenship, a much more perfect system of protection in action and acquisition than the conquered people had generally possessed before. Hence, while nothing could be further removed from what Rousseau would have counted liberty than the life of the citizens of the Roman Empire, for they had nothing to do with making the laws which they obeyed, yet probably there was never anv political system more firmly grounded on the good-will of the subjects, none in the maintenance of which the subjects felt a stronger interest. The British power in India exercises a middle function between that of the Roman Empire and that of the mere tax-collecting and recruit-raising empire with which the Roman Empire has just been contrasted. It presents itself to the subject people in the first place as a tax-collector. It leaves the customary law of the people mostly untouched. But if only to a very small extent a law-making power, it is emphatically a law-maintaining one. It regulates the whole judicial administration of the country, but applies its power generally only to enforce the customary law which it finds in existence. For this reason an 'habitual obedience' may fairly be said to be rendered by the Indian people to the English government, in a sense in which it could not be said to be rendered to a merely tax-collecting military power; but the 'habitual obedience' is so rendered only because the English government presents itself to the people, not merely as a tax-collector, but as the maintainer of a customary law, which, on the whole, is the expression of the general will. The same is true in principle of those independent states which are despotically governed, in which, i.e., the ultimate legislative power does not reside, wholly or in part, with an assembly representing the people, or with the people themselves; e.g. Russia. It is not the absolute coercive power of the Czar which determines the habitual obedience of the people. This coercive power, if put to the test as a _coercive_ power, would probably be found very far from absolute. The habitual obedience is determined by a system of law, chiefly customary, which the administration controlled by the Czar enforces against individuals, but which corresponds to the general sense of what is equitable and necessary. If a despotic government comes into anything like habitual conflict with the unwritten law which represents the general will, its dissolution is beginning.

91. The answer, then, to the question whether there is any truth in Rousseau's conception of sovereignty as founded upon a 'volonté générale,' in its application to actual sovereignty, must depend on what we mean by 'sovereign.' The essential thing in political society is a power which guarantees men rights, i.e. a certain freedom of action and acquisition conditionally upon their allowing a like freedom in others. It is but stating the same condition otherwise to speak of a power which guarantees the members of the society these rights, this freedom of action and acquisition, impartially or according to a general will or law. What is the lowest form in which a society is fit to be called political, is hard to say. The political society is more complete as the freedom guaranteed is more complete, both in respect of the persons enjoying it and of the range of possible action and acquisition over which it extends. A family or a nomad horde could not be called a political society, on account of the narrow range of the political freedom which they severally guarantee. The nomad horde might indeed be quite as numerous as a Greek state, or as the sovereign canton of Geneva in Rousseau's time; but in the horde the range within which reciprocal freedom of action and acquisition is guaranteed to the individual is exceedingly small. It is the power of guaranteeing rights, defined as above, which the old writers on sovereignty and civil government supposed to be established by covenant of all with all, translating the common interest which men have in the maintenance of such a power into an imaginary historical act by which they instituted it. It was this power that they had chiefly in view when they spoke of sovereignty.

92. It is to be observed, however, that the power may very well exist and serve its purpose where it is not sovereign in the sense of being exempt from any liability of being interfered with by a stronger coercive power, such as that of a tax-collecting military ruler. The occasional interference of the military ruler is so far a drawback to the efficiency with which freedom of action and acquisition is guaranteed, but does not nullify the general maintenance of rights. On the other hand, when the power by which rights are guaranteed is sovereign (as it is desirable that it should be) in the special sense of being maintained by a person or persons, and wielding coercive force not liable to control by any other human force, it is not this coercive force that is the important thing about it, or that determines the habitual obedience essential to the real maintenance of rights. That which determines this habitual obedience is a power residing in the common will and reason of men, i.e. in the will and reason of men as determined by social relations, as interested in each other, as acting together for common ends. It is a power which this universal rational will exercises over the inclinations of the individual, and which only needs exceptionally to be backed by coercive force.

93. Thus, though it may be misleading to speak of the general will as anywhere either actually or properly sovereign, because the term 'sovereign' is best kept to the ordinary usage in which it signifies a determinate person or persons charged with the supreme coercive function of the state, and the general will does not admit of being vested in a person or persons, yet it is true that the institutions of political society--those by which equal rights are guaranteed to members of such a society--are an expression of, and are maintained by, a general will. The sovereign should be regarded, not in abstraction as the wielder of coercive force, but in connection with the whole complex of institutions of political society. It is as their sustainer, and thus as the agent of the general will, that the sovereign power must be presented to the minds of the people if it is to command habitual loyal obedience; and obedience will scarcely be habitual unless it is loyal, not forced. If once the coercive power, which must always be an incident of sovereignty, becomes the characteristic thing about it in its relation to the people governed, this must indicate one of two things; either that the general interest in the maintenance of equal rights has lost its hold on the people, or that the sovereign no longer adequately fulfils its function of maintaining such rights, and thus has lost the support derived from the general sense of interest in supporting it. It may be doubted whether the former is ever really the case; but whatever explanation of the case may be the true one, it is certain that when the idea of coercive force is that predominantly associated with the law-imposing and law-enforcing power, then either a disruption of the state or a change in the sources of sovereignty must sooner or later take place. In judging, however, whether this is the case, we must not be misled by words. In England, e.g., from the way in which many people speak of 'government,' we might suppose that it was looked on mainly as the wielder of coercive force; but it would be a mistake on that account to suppose that English people commonly regard the laws of the country as so much coercion, instead of as an institution in the maintenance of which they are interested. When they speak disapprovingly of 'government,' they are not thinking of the general system of law, but of a central administrative agency, which they think interferes mischievously with local and customary administration.

94. It is more true, then, to say that law, as the system of rules by which rights are maintained, is the expression of a general will than that the general will is the sovereign. The sovereign, being a person or persons by whom in the last resort laws are imposed and enforced, in the long run and on the whole is an agent of the general will, contributes to realise that will. Particular laws may, no doubt, be imposed and enforced by the sovereign, which conflict with the general will; not in the sense that if all the subject people could be got together to vote upon them, a majority would vote against them,--that might be or might not be,--but in the sense that they tend to thwart those powers of action, acquisition, and self-development on the part of the members of the society, which there is always a general desire to extend (though the desire may not be enlightened as to the best means to the end), and which it is the business of the law to sustain and extend. The extent to which laws of this kind may be intruded into the general 'corpus juris' without social disruption it is impossible to specify. Probably there has never been a civilised state in which they bore more than a very small proportion to the amount of law which there was the strongest general interest in maintaining. But, so far as they go, they always tend to lessen the 'habitual obedience' of the people, and thus to make the sovereign cease to be sovereign. The hope must be that this will result in the transfer of sovereignty to other hands before a social disruption ensues; before the general system of law has been so far perverted as to lose its hold on the people. Of the possibility of a change in sovereignty without any detraction from the law-abiding habits of the people, France has lately given a conspicuous example. Here, however, it must be remembered that a temporary foreign conquest made the transition easier.

95. (2) After what has been said, we need not dwell long on the second question raised [1] concerning Rousseau's theory: Is there any truth in speaking of a sovereignty 'de jure' founded upon the 'volonté générale'? It is a distinction which can only be maintained so long as either 'sovereign' is not used in a determinate sense, or by 'jus' is understood something else than law or right established by law. If by 'sovereign' we understand something short of a person or persons holding the supreme law-making and law-enforcing power, e.g. an English king who is often called sovereign, we might say that sovereignty was exercised 'de facto' but not 'de jure' when the power of such a 'sovereign' was in conflict with, or was not sanctioned by, the law as declared and enforced by the really supreme power. Thus an English king, so far as he affected to control the army or raise money without the co-operation of Parliament, might be said to be sovereign 'de facto' but not 'de jure'; only, however, on the supposition that the supreme law-making and law-enforcing power does not belong to him, and thus that he is called 'sovereign' in other than the strict sense. If he were sovereign in the full sense 'de facto,' he could not fail to be so 'de jure,' i.e. legally. In such a state of things, if the antagonism between king and parliament continued for any length of time, it would have to be admitted that there was no sovereign in the sense of a supreme law-making and law-enforcing power; that sovereignty in this sense was in abeyance, and that anarchy prevailed. Or the same thing might be explained by saying that sovereignty still resided 'de jure' with the king and parliament, though not 'de facto' exercised by them; but if we use such language, we must bear in mind that we are qualifying 'sovereignty' by an epithet which neutralises its meaning as an actually supreme power. If, however, the king succeeded in establishing such a power on a permanent footing, he would have become sovereign in the full sense, and there would be no ground for saying, as before, that he was not sovereign 'de jure'; for the qualifications 'de jure' and 'not de jure,' in that sense in which they might be applied to a power which is not supreme, are equally inapplicable to the power of making and enforcing law which is supreme. The monarch's newly established supremacy may be in conflict with laws that were previously in force, but he has only to abolish those laws in order to render it legal. If, then, it is still to be said to be not 'de jure,' it must be because 'jus' is used for something else than law or right established by law; viz. either for 'natural right' (if we admit that there is such a thing), and 'natural right' as not merely = natural power; or for certain claims which the members of the subject community have come to recognise as inherent in the community and in themselves as members of it, claims regarded as the foundation of law, not as founded upon it, and with which the commands of the sovereign conflict. But even according to this meaning of 'jus,' a sovereign in the strict Austinian sense, that is not so 'de jure,' is in the long run an impossibility. 'Habitual obedience' cannot be secured in the face of such claims.

[1] [Above, sec. 80. RLN]

96. But whether or no in any qualified sense of 'sovereign' or 'jus,' a sovereign that is not so 'de jure' is possible, once understand by 'sovereign' the determinate person or persons with whom the ultimate law-imposing and law-enforcing power resides, and by 'jus' law, it is then obviously a contradiction to speak of a sovereign 'de jure' as distinguished from one 'de facto.' The power of the ultimate imponent of law cannot be derived from, or limited by, law. The sovereign may no doubt by a legislative act of its own lay down rules as to the mode in which its power shall be exercised, but if it is sovereign in the sense supposed, it must always be open to it to alter these rules. There can be no illegality in its doing so. In short, in whatever sense 'jus' is derived from the sovereign, in that sense no sovereign can hold his power 'de jure.' So Spinoza held that 'imperium' was 'de jure' indeed, but 'de jure naturali' ('jus naturale' = natural power), which is the same as 'de jure divino'; only powers exercised in subordination to 'imperium' are 'de jure civili.' So Hobbes said that there could be no 'unjust law.' A law was not a law unless enacted by a sovereign, and 'the just' being that to which the sovereign obliges, the sovereign could not enact the unjust, though it might enact the inequitable and the pernicious, the 'inequitable' presumably meaning that which conflicts with a law of nature, the 'pernicious' that which tends to weaken individuals or society. Rousseau retains the same notion of the impeccability of the sovereign, but on different grounds. Every act of the sovereign is according to him 'de jure,' not because all right is derived from a supreme coercive power and the sovereign is that power, but because the sovereign is the general will, which is necessarily a will for the good of all. The enactment of the sovereign could as little, on this view, be 'inequitable' or 'pernicious' as it could be 'unjust.' But this view necessitates a distinction between the sovereign, thus conceived, and the actually supreme power of making and enforcing law as it exists anywhere but in what Rousseau considered a perfect state. Rousseau indeed generally avoids calling this actually supreme power 'sovereign,' though he cannot, as we have seen, altogether avoid it; and since, whatever he liked to call it, the existence of such a power in forms which according to him prevented its equivalence to the general will was almost everywhere a fact, his readers would naturally come to think of the actually supreme power as sovereign 'de facto,' in distinction from something else which was sovereign 'de jure.' And further, under the influence of Rousseau's view that the only organ of the general will was an assembly of the whole people, they would naturally regard such an assembly as sovereign 'de jure,' and any other power actually supreme as merely sovereign 'de facto.' This opposition, however, really arises out of a confusion in the usage of the term 'sovereign'; out of inability on the one side to hold fast the identification of sovereign with general will, on the other to keep it simply to the sense of the supreme law-making and law-enforcing power. If 'sovereign' = 'general will,' the distinction of 'de facto' and 'de jure' is inapplicable to it. A certain desire either is or is not the general will. A certain interest is or is not an interest in the common good. There is no sense in saying that such desire or interest is general will 'de jure' but not 'de facto,' or _vice versa_. On the other hand, if 'sovereign' = the supreme law-making and law-enforcing power, the distinction is equally inapplicable to it. If any person or persons have this power at all, they cannot be said to have it merely 'de facto' while others have it 'de jure.'

97. It may be urged with much truth that the actual possession of such power by a determinate person or persons is rather a convenient hypothesis of writers on jurisprudence than an actual fact; and, as we have seen, the actual condition of things at certain times in certain states may conveniently be expressed by saying that there was a sovereign 'de facto' that was not so 'de jure,' or vice versa; but only on the supposition that 'sovereign' is not taken necessarily in the full sense of a supreme law-making and law-enforcing power. In a state of things that can be so described, however, there is no 'sovereignty' at all in the sense of an actually supreme power of making and enforcing law resident in a determinate person or persons. Sovereignty in this sense can only exist 'de facto'; and when it so exists, it is obvious that no other can in the same sense exist 'de jure.' It may be denied indeed in particular cases that an actually supreme power of making and enforcing law is exercised 'de jure,' in a sense of that phrase already explained (see section 95). Reasons were given for doubting whether a power could really maintain its sovereign attributes if conflicting with 'jus,' in the sense thus explained. But supposing that it could, the fact that it was not exercised 'de jure' would not entitle us to say that any other person or persons were sovereign 'de jure,' without altering the meaning of 'sovereign.' If any one has supreme power 'de facto,' that which any one else has cannot be supreme power. The qualification of a power as held not 'de facto' but 'de jure' is one which destroys its character as supreme, i.e. as sovereign in the sense before us.