Quilling illustration for Federalist Nos. 9-10
Federalist Nos. 9-10

The Union as a Safeguard Against Domestic Faction and Insurrection

Generated summaryHamilton and Madison argue that a large confederate union, not a small state, is the real fix for the instability that has destroyed every popular government before now, since size and structure make faction harder to organize and insurrection impossible to spread.

Federalist 9

Generated summaryA confederate republic lets member states keep their own governments while gaining the combined strength to stop any one state's insurrection, corruption, or usurpation from overtaking the rest of the union.
Key points
  • A firm Union is the great barrier against domestic faction and insurrection.
  • The petty republics of Greece and Italy were scenes of ceaseless turmoil, and despotism’s advocates use their disorders to argue against republican liberty itself.
  • But the science of politics has improved, giving us separation of powers, checks and balances, judges holding office during good behavior, and representation.
  • To these I add one more improvement: enlarging the sphere by consolidating smaller states into one confederacy.
  • Opponents cite Montesquieu for small republics, but his models were tinier than our states, and his rule would drive us to monarchy or a swarm of clashing commonwealths.
  • Montesquieu himself endorses the confederate republic: it joins a republic’s internal advantages to a monarchy’s external force, and lets the sound parts quell insurrection or usurpation in any one.
  • The objection that a true confederacy cannot touch individuals is arbitrary; the plan keeps the states as constituent parts, with Senate representation and reserved powers.

A firm Union will be of the utmost importance to the peace and liberty of the states, as a barrier against domestic faction and insurrection. No one can read the history of the petty republics of Greece and Italy without horror at the constant turmoil and the rapid revolutions that kept them vibrating between the extremes of tyranny and anarchy. If they show occasional calms, these serve only as short-lived contrasts to the furious storms that follow. If brief intervals of happiness appear, we view them with regret, knowing they will soon be overwhelmed by sedition and party rage. And when momentary rays of glory break through the gloom, they dazzle us briefly while reminding us that the vices of government tarnished the bright talents for which those celebrated lands are justly famous.

From the disorders of those republics, the advocates of despotism have drawn arguments not only against republican government but against civil liberty itself. They declare all free government inconsistent with the order of society. Happily for mankind, a few glorious structures built on liberty have flourished for ages and refuted their gloomy reasoning. I trust America will become the broad and solid foundation of other structures no less magnificent, permanent monuments of their errors.

Yet these portraits of republican government were fair copies of the originals. If no better models could have been devised, liberty’s enlightened friends would have had to abandon that form of government as indefensible. But the science of politics, like most sciences, has greatly improved, and we now understand principles the ancients knew imperfectly or not at all. Among them are the distribution of power into distinct departments, legislative checks and balances, courts of judges who serve during good behavior, and representation of the people by deputies they elect. These discoveries are wholly new, or perfected mainly in modern times, and they are powerful means of keeping the excellences of republican government while lessening or avoiding its imperfections.

To this catalogue I venture to add one more improvement, however novel it may appear: the enlargement of the orbit within which such systems revolve. This may mean a single state’s dimensions or the consolidation of several smaller states into one great confederacy; the consolidation concerns us here, and I will examine the single state in another place. The usefulness of a confederacy in suppressing faction, guarding the internal tranquility of states, and increasing their external force and security is not a new idea. It has been practiced in different countries and ages, and it has the sanction of the most approved writers on politics. The opponents of the proposed plan have diligently cited Montesquieu’s observations on the necessity of a small territory for republican government. But they seem not to know what that great man says elsewhere in his work, or where the principle they embrace will lead. When Montesquieu recommends a small extent for republics, the models he had in mind were far smaller than almost every one of these states. Neither Virginia, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, New York, North Carolina, nor Georgia can by any means be compared with the models he reasoned from. Taking his ideas on this point as the criterion of truth would drive us to a hard choice: refuge in the arms of monarchy, or an infinity of little, jealous, clashing commonwealths, the wretched nurseries of unceasing discord.

Some writers on the other side seem aware of this dilemma, and they have even been bold enough to hint that dividing the larger states would be desirable. Such a desperate expedient might multiply petty offices for men whose influence reaches no further than circles of personal intrigue, but it could never promote the greatness or happiness of the people of America.

Montesquieu’s own words, in fact, favor the Union. Taken in his sense, his rule would only call for reducing the size of the largest members of the Union. It says nothing against joining them all in one confederate government, and that is the true question before us. Far from opposing a general union of the states, he explicitly treats a confederate republic as the means of extending the sphere of popular government and reconciling the advantages of monarchy with those of republicanism. It is very probable, he writes, that mankind would eventually have been forced to live always under the government of a single person, had they not contrived the confederate republic. That form of constitution has all the internal advantages of republican government together with the external force of a monarchy. Under it, several smaller states agree to become members of a larger one, an assemblage of societies that grows by new associations until it can provide for the security of the whole united body. A republic of this kind, he adds, can withstand an external force and support itself without internal corruptions.

If a single member should attempt to usurp the supreme authority, he could not command equal authority and credit in all the confederate states. Too great an influence over one state would alarm the rest; if he subdued a part, the states still free could overpower him before his usurpation settled. Should a popular insurrection break out in one state, the others can quell it; should abuses creep into one part, the parts that remain sound reform them. Even if the confederacy itself dissolved, its members would preserve their sovereignty.

Composed of small republics, such a government enjoys the internal happiness of each; through the association, it gains all the external advantages of large monarchies. I quote these passages at length because they summarize the principal arguments for the Union and correct the false impressions drawn from misapplying other parts of Montesquieu’s work. They also bear directly on the design of this paper: to show the tendency of the Union to repress domestic faction and insurrection.

Some have raised a distinction, more subtle than accurate, between a confederacy and a consolidation of the states. A confederacy, they say, restricts its authority to the member states in their collective capacities and never reaches the individuals who compose them; on this view, the national council should have no concern with internal administration. An exact equality of suffrage between the members has also been insisted upon as a leading feature of confederate government. These positions are in the main arbitrary; they are supported neither by principle nor by precedent. Governments of this kind have usually operated as the distinction supposes, but most show extensive exceptions, proving there is no absolute rule on the subject. And I will show that wherever this principle has prevailed, it has caused incurable disorder and weakness in government.

A confederate republic is simply “an assemblage of societies,” an association of two or more states into one state; the extent, modifications, and objects of the federal authority are mere matters of discretion. So long as the member states keep their separate organization for local purposes, the whole remains in fact and in theory a confederacy, even in perfect subordination to the general authority of the union. The proposed Constitution, far from abolishing the state governments, makes them constituent parts of the national sovereignty, with direct representation in the Senate and exclusive, very important portions of sovereign power left in their hands. In the Lycian confederacy of twenty-three cities, the largest held three votes in the common council, the middle class two, and the smallest one. That council also appointed every city’s judges and magistrates, the most delicate possible interference in internal administration. Yet Montesquieu says of this association, “Were I to give a model of an excellent Confederate Republic, it would be that of Lycia.” These distinctions, then, never entered the thoughts of that enlightened writer; they are the novel refinements of an erroneous theory.

Federalist 10

Generated summaryFaction cannot be removed without destroying liberty itself, so the cure is to control its effects, and a large republic does this by multiplying interests and parties until no single faction, especially a majority one, can easily combine and dominate the whole.
Key points
  • The Union’s chief advantage is its tendency to break and control the violence of faction.
  • A faction is any group, majority or minority, united by a passion or interest adverse to others’ rights or the common good.
  • Faction can be cured two ways — by removing its causes or controlling its effects — but its causes cannot be removed without destroying liberty itself.
  • Those causes are sown in human nature, above all in the unequal distribution of property, so we must instead control faction’s effects.
  • A minority faction the majority can simply outvote; the real danger is a majority faction, which popular government otherwise lets oppress at will.
  • A pure democracy cannot check a majority faction; only a republic, governing through elected representatives, opens the cure.
  • Extend the sphere: a large republic holds so many parties and interests that an oppressive majority is harder to form and harder to unite.
  • So in the extent and structure of the Union lies a republican remedy for the diseases most common to republican government.

Among the many advantages promised by a well-built Union, none deserves fuller treatment than its tendency to break and control the violence of faction. The friend of popular government is never so alarmed for its fate as when he sees how prone it is to this dangerous vice. He will value, then, any plan that cures it without violating the principles he holds dear. Instability, injustice, and confusion in the public councils have in truth been the mortal diseases by which popular governments everywhere have perished. They remain the favorite theme from which the enemies of liberty draw their most plausible arguments. The improvements the American constitutions made on the popular models of the past cannot be admired too much. But it would be false partiality to claim that they have removed this danger as fully as was hoped. Our most thoughtful and virtuous citizens complain, the friends alike of public and private faith and of public and personal liberty, that our governments are too unstable. They complain that the public good is ignored in the clash of rival parties, and that measures are too often decided not by the rules of justice and the rights of the weaker party, but by the superior force of an interested and overbearing majority. Much as we might wish these complaints had no ground, the facts will not let us deny that they are in some degree true. A fair review will show that some of our troubles have been wrongly blamed on our governments. But it will also show that other causes alone cannot explain many of our heaviest misfortunes, and above all the growing distrust of public engagements and alarm for private rights echoed from one end of the continent to the other. These are chiefly, if not wholly, the effects of the unsteadiness and injustice that a factious spirit has brought into our public affairs. By a faction I mean a number of citizens, whether a majority or a minority of the whole, who are united and moved by some common impulse of passion or interest that runs against the rights of other citizens, or against the permanent and collective interests of the community.

There are two ways to cure the mischiefs of faction: remove its causes, or control its effects. And there are two ways to remove its causes: destroy the liberty essential to its existence, or give every citizen the same opinions, the same passions, and the same interests. The first remedy is worse than the disease. Liberty is to faction what air is to fire, the food without which it instantly dies. But to abolish liberty because it feeds faction would be as foolish as to wish away the air because it gives fire its power. Liberty is essential to political life, and we cannot destroy it to be rid of faction.

The second cure is as impractical as the first would be unwise. As long as human reason remains fallible, and men are free to use it, they will form different opinions. As long as reason is tied to self-love, opinions and passions will act on each other, and passions will fasten onto opinions. Men differ in their faculties, and from those different faculties the rights of property arise. The protection of these faculties is the first object of government. From protecting different and unequal faculties for acquiring property come different degrees and kinds of property. These shape the views of their owners, and society divides into different interests and parties. The seeds of faction are thus sown in the nature of man. We see them everywhere, more or less active as circumstances allow. A zeal for rival opinions in religion, in government, and in much else; an attachment to rival leaders competing for power; or a devotion to others whose fortunes stir the passions: all these have in turn divided mankind, inflamed mutual hatred, and made men far readier to oppress each other than to work for the common good. So strong is this tendency that where no real occasion offers, the most frivolous and imaginary distinctions have been enough to kindle unfriendly passions and violent conflict. But the most common and lasting source of factions has been the varied and unequal distribution of property. Those who own property and those who do not have always formed distinct interests, as have creditors and debtors. A landed interest, a manufacturing interest, a mercantile interest, a moneyed interest, and many lesser interests grow up of necessity in every civilized nation, dividing it into different classes with different sentiments and views. Regulating these many clashing interests is the chief task of modern legislation, and it draws the spirit of party and faction into the ordinary work of government.

No man is allowed to judge his own cause, because his interest would bias his judgment and might corrupt his integrity. With equal or greater reason, a body of men should not be both judges and parties at once. Yet what are many of the most important acts of legislation but judicial decisions, not about the rights of single persons, but about the rights of large bodies of citizens? And what are the different classes of lawmakers but advocates for the very causes they decide? Is a law proposed about private debts? The creditors are parties on one side, the debtors on the other. Justice should hold the balance; yet the parties are themselves the judges, and the most powerful faction must be expected to prevail. Should domestic manufactures be protected by restrictions on foreign ones, and how far? The landed and the manufacturing classes would answer differently, and neither, probably, with sole regard to justice and the public good. The apportionment of taxes seems to demand the strictest impartiality; yet no act offers a dominant party greater temptation to trample the rules of justice. Every shilling they overcharge the weaker number is a shilling saved in their own pockets. It is vain to say that enlightened statesmen will adjust these clashing interests and bend them all to the public good. Enlightened statesmen will not always be at the helm. And such an adjustment often cannot be made at all without weighing indirect and distant considerations, which will rarely prevail over the immediate interest one party finds in disregarding the rights of another.

The conclusion is this: the causes of faction cannot be removed, and relief must be sought only in controlling its effects. If a faction is less than a majority, the republican principle supplies relief, for the majority can defeat its designs by a regular vote. Such a minority may clog the government and disturb society, but it cannot carry out its violence under the forms of the Constitution. When a majority is caught up in a faction, however, popular government itself lets it sacrifice both the public good and the rights of other citizens to its ruling passion. To secure the public good and private rights against such a faction, and yet preserve the spirit and form of popular government, is the great object of our inquiry. Let me add that this is the great goal by which popular government can be rescued from the disgrace it has long borne, and made worthy of the esteem and adoption of mankind.

How can this object be reached? Clearly by only one of two ways. Either the same passion or interest must be kept from seizing a majority at the same time, or the majority that shares it must be made unable, by their number and scattered situation, to combine and act on their schemes of oppression. If impulse and opportunity are allowed to meet, we know that neither moral nor religious motives can be trusted to hold men back. They fail to restrain injustice in individuals, and they lose force as more people combine, just when that force is most needed.

From this we may conclude that a pure democracy, by which I mean a small society of citizens who assemble and govern in person, can find no cure for the mischiefs of faction. A common passion or interest will, in almost every case, be felt by a majority. The very form of government lets them communicate and combine, and nothing checks the temptation to sacrifice a weaker party or a hated individual. Such democracies have always been scenes of turbulence and strife, always hostile to personal security and the rights of property, and in general as short in their lives as they were violent in their deaths. The theorists who favored this form supposed that by making men perfectly equal in political rights, they would also make them equal in property, in opinions, and in passions. They were mistaken.

A republic, by which I mean a government using representation, opens a different prospect, and promises the cure we seek. Let us see how it differs from a pure democracy, and we shall grasp both the nature of the cure and the power it draws from the Union. There are two great differences. First, in a republic the government is delegated to a small number of citizens elected by the rest. Second, a republic can take in a greater number of citizens and a larger stretch of country. The first difference tends to refine and enlarge the public views by passing them through a chosen body of citizens, whose wisdom may best discern the true interest of their country, and whose patriotism will be least likely to sacrifice it to passing or partial aims. Under such an arrangement, the public voice, spoken by the people’s representatives, may suit the public good better than if the people themselves had spoken it. But the effect can also run the other way. Men of factious temper, of local prejudice, or of sinister design may win office by intrigue or corruption, and then betray the people’s interests. The question, then, is whether small or large republics are better suited to choose fit guardians of the public good. Two plain considerations decide it for the large republic. First, however small a republic is, its representatives must reach a certain number, to guard against the schemes of a few; and however large it is, they must stay within a certain number, to guard against the confusion of a crowd. So the representatives do not grow in proportion to the people, and are proportionally more numerous in the small republic. If the share of fit men is no smaller in the large republic than in the small, the large one offers a wider choice, and so a better chance of a fit choice. Second, since each representative in a large republic is chosen by more citizens, it is harder for unworthy candidates to win by the vicious arts too often used in elections. With freer votes, the people are likelier to settle on men of proven and widely known merit.

It must be admitted that here, as elsewhere, there is a middle point, with drawbacks on either side. Enlarge the body of electors too much, and the representatives lose touch with local circumstances and lesser interests. Reduce it too much, and they grow overly attached to these, and unfit to grasp and pursue great national objects. The federal Constitution strikes a happy balance in this respect: the great and general interests go to the national legislature, the local and particular ones to the state legislatures.

The other difference is the greater number of citizens and the larger territory that a republic can hold, compared with a democracy. This, above all, makes factious combinations less to be feared in a republic. The smaller the society, the fewer the distinct parties and interests. The fewer the parties, the more often a majority will belong to one. And the smaller the majority, and the tighter the space they occupy, the more easily they can combine and carry out their plans of oppression. Enlarge the sphere, and you take in a greater variety of parties and interests. You make it less likely that a majority of the whole will share a motive to invade the rights of others. And even if such a motive exists, it will be harder for all who feel it to discover their strength and act together. Where the purpose is unjust or dishonorable, distrust itself checks communication, the more so as more people must agree.

So the same advantage a republic has over a democracy in controlling faction, a large republic has over a small one, and the Union has over the states that compose it. Does the advantage lie in choosing representatives whose enlightened views rise above local prejudice and schemes of injustice? The representatives of the Union are the most likely to have these qualities. Does it lie in the greater security that a greater variety of parties gives against any one party outnumbering and oppressing the rest? The Union’s wider variety of parties adds exactly that security. Does it lie in the greater obstacles to the secret wishes of an unjust and interested majority? Here again the extent of the Union gives the plainest advantage. The influence of factious leaders may kindle a flame in their own states, but it cannot spread a general fire through the others. A religious sect may sink into a political faction in one part of the confederacy, but the variety of sects spread over the whole guards the national councils against that danger. A rage for paper money, for abolishing debts, for an equal division of property, or for any other improper or wicked project, will less easily infect the whole Union than a single member of it, just as such a disease is likelier to taint a county or a district than an entire state. In the size and proper structure of the Union, then, we behold a republican remedy for the diseases most common to republican government. And the pleasure and pride we take in being republicans should fix our zeal in cherishing the spirit and upholding the character of Federalists.