The simple consummation of a fact does not render it legitimate; and, consequently, it is not on this account alone worthy of respect. The robber who has stolen does not acquire a right to the thing stolen; the incendiary who reduces a house to ashes is no less deserving of punishment, of being forced to make reparation, than if he had been arrested in the attempt. This is so evident and clear, that it cannot be called in question. To assert the contrary, is to become the enemy of all morality, of all justice, of all right; and to proclaim the exclusive rule of force and cunning. Consummated facts, appertaining to social and political order, do not change their nature; the usurper, who seizes upon the crown of his lawful predecessor; the conqueror, who, by mere force of arms, has subdued a nation, does not thereby acquire a right to its possession; the government, which by gross iniquities has despoiled entire classes of citizens, exacted undue contributions, abolished legitimate rights, cannot justify its acts by the simple fact of its having sufficient strength to execute these iniquities. That is equally evident; and if there is here any difference at all, the crime is only the greater, from the greater gravity and extent of the wrongs committed, and of the scandal given to the public. Such are the principles of sound morality—individual morality, social morality; morality of the whole human race; immutable, eternal morality.
Let us now examine the question of public expediency. In some instances, a consummated fact, in spite of all its injustice, all its immorality and atrocity, acquires such an ascendency, that by not accepting it, or by being determined to destroy it, we should let loose a train of troubles and commotions, and perhaps without effect. Every government is bound to respect justice, and to act in such a manner that its subjects may also respect it; but it should not command what will not be obeyed, when it is deprived of the means of enforcing obedience. In such a case, we should not commit an injustice by not attacking the illegal interests, or by not endeavoring to obtain redress for the victims; the government, in such a case, may be compared to a man who, beholding robbers loaded with the fruit of their theft, is without the means of forcing them to make restitution. If you suppose an impossibility, what does it avail to say that the government is not a single individual, but a defender of all legitimate interests? No one is bound to impossibilities.
Observe, also, that this remark applies not only to a physical impossibility, but also to a moral one. Whenever, therefore, the government possesses the material means of obtaining reparation, a moral impossibility will be constituted, when the employing of those means would cause serious difficulties to the state, endanger the public peace, or sow the seeds of future insurrection. Order and public interest require the preference, for these are the primary objects of all government; consequently, that which cannot be accomplished without endangering them, ought to be considered as impossible. The application of these doctrines will always be a question of prudence, that cannot be subjected to any general rule. Depending as it does upon a thousand circumstances, it cannot be decided upon abstract principles; but by the consideration of existing facts, duly appreciated and considered by political tact. Such is the case of the respect due to consummated facts; the injustice of these facts is apparent; but we must not overlook their force. Not to attack them is not, necessarily, to sanction them. The legislator is bound to diminish the evil as far as possible; but not to risk an aggravation of it by attempting an impracticable reparation. As it is particularly injurious to society for great interests to remain insecure, and uncertain for the future, just means must be adopted, which, without occasioning complicity in the evil, may prevent the dangers of a doubtful situation, resulting from injustice itself. A just policy does not sanction injustice; but a wise policy never despises the importance of established facts. If such facts exist, and appear indestructible, it tolerates them; but without affording them the sanction of its participation or approval. Acting with dignity, it makes the best of difficulties; and in some sort allies the principles of eternal justice with the views of public expediency. We have a very striking case in point, which will place this matter in the clearest possible light. After the great evils, and the enormous acts of injustice perpetrated during the French Revolution, what possibility was there of making a complete reparation? In 1814, could every thing be restored to the position in which it stood in 1789? The throne overturned, all social distinctions levelled, and property broken up; who could reconstruct the ancient social edifice? No one.
Such is the respect to be entertained for consummated facts, which might be more properly termed indestructible ones. To illustrate my idea still further, I will give it a very simple exemplification. A proprietor, driven from his possessions by a powerful neighbor, has not the means of repossessing himself of them. He has neither wealth nor influence; and his spoliator abounds in both. If he have recourse to force, he will be vanquished; if to the tribunal, he will lose his cause; what, therefore, is he to do? To negotiate for an accommodation, to obtain what he can, and be resigned to his fate. This is all that can be said; and it is remarkable, that such are the principles adopted by governments. History and experience teach us, that consummated facts are respected when they are indestructible; that is, when they possess in themselves sufficient force to make them respected; in any other case, they are not so. And nothing is more natural. Whatever is not founded upon right, can only be maintained by force.[32]
[CHAPTER LVI.]
HOW THE CIVIL POWER MAY BE LAWFULLY RESISTED.
From what has been said in the foregoing chapters it follows, that it is allowable to resist illegitimate power by force. The Catholic religion does not enjoin obedience to governments existing merely de facto; for morality does not admit a mere fact, unsupported by right and justice. However, when power is in itself lawful, but in its exercise tyrannical, does our religion prohibit, in every instance, resistance by physical force; so that not to resist at all, forms a part of her dogmas? Is insurrection never allowable, in any supposition, for any motive? Although I have already eliminated many questions, it is necessary to draw here a fresh distinction, in order to fix exactly the point at which dogma ends, and opinions begin. It is evident, in the first place, that an individual has no right to kill a tyrant on his own authority. The Council of Constance, in its 15th session, condemned the following proposition as heretical: "Any vassal or subject may and should, lawfully and meritoriously, kill any tyrant. He may even, for this purpose, avail himself of ambushes, and wily expressions of affection or adulation; notwithstanding any oath or pact imposed upon him by the tyrant; and without waiting for the sentence or order of any judge." "Quilibet tyrannus potest et debet licite et meritorie occidi per quemcumque vassallum suum vel subditum, etiam per clanculares insidias, et subtiles blanditias vel adulationes, non obstante quocumque præstito juramento, seu confœderatione factis cum eo, non expectata sententia vel mandato judicis cujuscumque."
But does this decision of the Council of Constance constitute a prohibition of every kind of insurrection? No; it speaks of the murder of a tyrant by any particular individual; but every case of resistance is not maintained by a single individual; neither is it the aim of every insurrection to destroy a tyrant. This doctrine only serves to prevent murder, and a train of evils which would overwhelm society if it were established that any individual had a right of his own authority to kill the supreme ruler. Who will venture to accuse this doctrine of being favorable to tyranny? The liberty of the people should not be based upon the horrid right of assassination; the defence of the rights of society should not be confided to the dagger of a fanatic. The attributes of public power are so extensive and various, that their exercise must necessarily and frequently inconvenience some individuals. Man, inclined to extremes and revenge, easily enlarges upon the grievances which he suffers; passing from a particular to a general, he is inclined to look upon those who injure or oppose him as villains. At the slightest shock which he receives from government, he cries out that tyranny is insupportable; the act of arbitrary power, real or imaginary, committed against him, becomes, in his mouth, one of the many iniquities perpetrated, or the commencement of those that are to be. Grant, therefore, to the individual the right of killing a tyrant; proclaim to the people that, to render such an act lawful and meritorious, there is no need of a sentence, or any judicial condemnation; and from that time this horrible crime will become frequent. The wisest, the justest kings will fall victims to the parricidal dagger, or the poisoned cup. You will have furnished no guarantee to the liberty of the people, and you will have exposed the dearest interests of society to dreadful hazards.
The Catholic Church, by this solemn declaration, has conferred an immense service on humanity. The violent death of him who holds the supreme power seldom happens without causing bloodshed and great commotion. It provokes measures of suspicious precaution, easily converted into tyranny. It follows, then, that any crime instigated by excessive hatred of tyranny contributes to establish it in a form still more absolute and cruel. Modern nations should feel grateful to the Catholic Church for having established this sacred and saving principle. A person must be possessed of very mean sentiments, or very ferocious instincts, not to appreciate it, or to regret the bloody scenes of the Roman Empire and the barbarian monarchy. We have seen, and we still see, powerful nations delivered up to dreadful troubles, by the neglect of this Catholic maxim. The history of the last three centuries, and the experience of this, prove that this august precept of the Church was given to the people in anticipation of the dangers which were threatening them. In it we find no flattery for kings; for they are not the only ones benefited by it; it is a general proposition, including all others, whatever be their titles, who exercise supreme authority, whatever be the form of government, from the Russian autocrat to the most democratical republic.
It is worthy of remark, that modern constitutions, proceeding from the bosom of revolutions, have universally rendered a solemn homage to this Catholic maxim; they have declared the person of the monarch sacred and inviolable. What does this mean, but that this person should be placed under an impenetrable safeguard? You reproach the Catholic Church with placing a sort of shield before the person of kings, and yet you yourselves declare that person inviolable. The anointing of kings you ridicule, and yet you yourself declare that the king is sacred. Since you are forced to imitate the Church, her dogmas and her discipline must have contained an eternal truth, and high political principles; with this difference, however, that you represent as the work of the will of man what she esteems the work of the will of God. But if supreme power makes a scandalous abuse of its faculties, if it outsteps its just bounds, if it tramples under foot fundamental laws, if it persecutes religion, corrupts morality, outrages public dignity, attacks the honor of citizens, exacts illegal and disproportionate contributions, alienates national property, dismembers provinces, inflicts death and ignominy upon the people: in such cases, does Catholicity also prescribe obedience? does it forbid resistance? does it command subjects to remain tranquil, like a lamb in the claws of a wild beast? May there not exist, either in an individual, or in the principal bodies, or in the most distinguished classes of society, or in the entire mass of the nation, somewhere, in fine, the right of opposing, of resisting, after all means of mildness, representation, counsel, and entreaty have failed? In such disastrous circumstances, does the Church leave the people without hope, and tyrants without restraint?