|
American
writer and philosopher Henry David Thoreau wrote "Resistance to Civil
Government" (also known by the title "Civil Disobedience") in
1849. Thoreau asserted that the United States government lacked moral authority
because it condoned slavery, and he saw the Mexican War (1846-1848) as an
attempt to extend slavery to the western United States. Thoreau believed that
publicly disobeying the laws of an unjust government would bring other people to
oppose that government's actions. "Resistance to Civil Government"
inspired leaders of 20th-century resistance movements, such as Indian
nationalist leader Mohandas Gandhi and American civil rights leader Martin
Luther King, Jr.
¡¡
From
"Resistance to Civil Government"
By Henry David Thoreau
I heartily accept the motto, "That government is best
which governs least"; and I should like to see it acted up to more rapidly
and systematically. Carried out, it finally amounts to this, which also I
believe,"That government is best which governs not at all"; and when
men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government which they will
have. Government is at best but an expedient; but most governments are usually,
and all governments are sometimes, inexpedient. The objections which have been
brought against a standing army, and they are many and weighty, and deserve to
prevail, may also at last be brought against a standing government. The standing
army is only an arm of the standing government. The government itself, which is
only the mode which the people have chosen to execute their will, is equally
liable to be abused and perverted before the people can act through it. Witness
the present Mexican war, the work of comparatively a few individuals using the
standing government as their tool; for in the outset, the people would not have
consented to this measure.
This American government,—what is it but a tradition, though a recent one, endeavoring to transmit
itself unimpaired to posterity, but each instant losing some of its integrity?
It has not the vitality and force of a single living man; for a single man can
bend it to his will. It is a sort of wooden gun to the people themselves. But it
is not the less necessary for this; for the people must have some complicated
machinery or other, and hear its din, to satisfy that idea of government which
they have. Governments show thus how successfully men can be imposed upon, even
impose on themselves, for their own advantage. It is excellent, we must all
allow. Yet this government never of itself furthered any enterprise, but by the
alacrity with which it got out of its way. It does not keep the country
free. It does not settle the West. It does not educate. The
character inherent in the American people has done all that has been
accomplished; and it would have done somewhat more, if the government had not
sometimes got in its way. For government is an expedient, by which men would
fain succeed in letting one another alone; and, as has been said, when it is
most expedient, the governed are most let alone by it. Trade and commerce, if
they were not made of india-rubber, would never manage to bounce over obstacles
which legislators are continually putting in their way; and if one were to judge
these men wholly by the effects of their actions and not partly by their
intentions, they would deserve to be classed and punished with those
mischievious persons who put obstructions on the railroads. But, to speak
practically and as a citizen, unlike those who call themselves no-government
men, I ask for, not at once no government, but at once a better
government. Let every man make known what kind of government would command his
respect, and that will be one step toward obtaining it.
After all, the practical reason why, when the power is
once in the hands of the people, a majority are permitted, and for a long period
continue, to rule is not because they are most likely to be in the right, nor
because this seems fairest to the minority, but because they are physically the
strongest. But a government in which the majority rule in all cases can not be
based on justice, even as far as men understand it. Can there not be a
government in which the majorities do not virtually decide right and wrong, but
conscience?—in which
majorities decide only those questions to which the rule of expediency is
applicable? Must the citizen ever for a moment, or in the least degree, resign
his conscience to the legislator? Why has every man a conscience then? I think
that we should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not desirable to
cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right. The only obligation
which I have a right to assume is to do at any time what I think right. It is
truly enough said that a corporation has no conscience; but a corporation of
conscientious men is a corporation with a conscience. Law never made men
a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed
are daily made the agents of injustice. A common and natural result of an undue
respect for the law is, that you may see a file of soldiers, colonel, captain,
corporal, privates, powder-monkeys, and all, marching in admirable order over
hill and dale to the wars, against their wills, aye, against their common sense
and consciences, which makes it very steep marching indeed, and produces a
palpitation of the heart. They have no doubt that it is a damnable business in
which they are concerned; they are all peaceably inclined. Now, what are they?
Men at all? or small movable forts and magazines, at the service of some
unscrupulous man in power? Visit the Navy Yard, and behold a marine, such a man
as an American government can make, or such as it can make a man with its black
arts—a mere shadow
and reminiscence of humanity, a man laid out alive and standing, and already, as
one may say, buried under arms with funeral accompaniment, though it may be,
¡¡
¡¡
"Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero was buried."
¡¡
¡¡
The mass of men serve the state thus, not as men mainly,
but as machines, with their bodies. They are the standing army, and the militia,
jailers, constables, posse comitatus,&c. In most cases there is no
free exercise whatever of the judgment or of the moral sense; but they put
themselves on a level with wood and earth and stones; and wooden men can perhaps
be manufactured that will serve the purpose as well. Such command no more
respect than men of straw or a lump of dirt. They have the same sort of worth
only as horses and dogs. Yet such as these even are commonly esteemed good
citizens. Others—as most
legislators, politicians, lawyers, ministers, and office-holders—serve the state chiefly with their heads; and, as they
rarely make any moral distinctions, they are as likely to serve the devil,
without intending it, as God. A very few—as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great sense, and men—serve the state with their consciences also, and so
necessarily resist it for the most part; and they are commonly treated as
enemies by it. A wise man will only be useful as a man, and will not submit to
be "clay," and "stop a hole to keep the wind away," but
leave that office to his dust at least:
¡¡
"I am too high born to be propertied,
To be a second at control,
Or useful serving-man and instrument
To any sovereign state throughout the world."
¡¡
He who gives himself entirely to his fellow men appears to
them useless and selfish; but he who gives himself partially to them is
pronounced a benefactor and philanthropist.
How does it become a man to behave toward the American
government today? I answer, that he cannot without disgrace be associated with
it. I cannot for an instant recognize that political organization as my
government which is the slave's government also....
Unjust laws exist: shall we be content to obey them, or
shall we endeavor to amend them, and obey them until we have succeeded, or shall
we transgress them at once? Men, generally, under such a government as this,
think that they ought to wait until they have persuaded the majority to alter
them. They think that, if they should resist, the remedy would be worse than the
evil. But it is the fault of the government itself that the remedy is worse than
the evil. It makes it worse. Why is it not more apt to anticipate and provide
for reform? Why does it not cherish its wise minority? Why does it cry and
resist before it is hurt? Why does it not encourage its citizens to put out its
faults, and do better than it would have them? Why does it always crucify Christ
and excommunicate Copernicus and Luther, and pronounce Washington and Franklin
rebels?...
One would think, that a deliberate and practical denial of
its authority was the only offense never contemplated by its government; else,
why has it not assigned its definite, its suitable and proportionate, penalty?
If a man who has no property refuses but once to earn nine shillings for the
State, he is put in prison for a period unlimited by any law that I know, and
determined only by the discretion of those who put him there; but if he should
steal ninety times nine shillings from the State, he is soon permitted to go at
large again.
If the injustice is part of the necessary friction of the
machine of government, let it go, let it go: perchance it will wear smooth—certainly the machine will wear out. If the injustice has a
spring, or a pulley, or a rope, or a crank, exclusively for itself, then perhaps
you may consider whether the remedy will not be worse than the evil; but if it
is of such a nature that it requires you to be the agent of injustice to
another, then I say, break the law. Let your life be a counter-friction to stop
the machine. What I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself
to the wrong which I condemn.
As for adopting the ways of the State has provided for
remedying the evil, I know not of such ways. They take too much time, and a
man's life will be gone. I have other affairs to attend to. I came into this
world, not chiefly to make this a good place to live in, but to live in it, be
it good or bad. A man has not every thing to do, but something; and because he
cannot do every thing, it is not necessary that he should do something
wrong. It is not my business to be petitioning the Governor or the Legislature
any more than it is theirs to petition me; and if they should not hear my
petition, what should I do then?...
I meet this American government, or its representative,
the State government, directly, and face to face, once a year—no more—in the
person of its tax-gatherer; this is the only mode in which a man situated as I
am necessarily meets it; and it then says distinctly, Recognize me; and the
simplest, the most effectual, and, in the present posture of affairs, the
indispensablest mode of treating with it on this head, of expressing your little
satisfaction with and love for it, is to deny it then. My civil neighbor, the
tax-gatherer, is the very man I have to deal with,—for it is, after all, with men and not with parchment that
I quarrel,—and he has
voluntarily chosen to be an agent of the government. How shall he ever know well
that he is and does as an officer of the government, or as a man, until he is
obliged to consider whether he will treat me, his neighbor, for whom he has
respect, as a neighbor and well-disposed man, or as a maniac and disturber of
the peace, and see if he can get over this obstruction to his neighborliness
without a ruder and more impetuous thought or speech corresponding with his
action. I know this well, that if one thousand, if one hundred, if ten men whom
I could name—if ten honest
men only—ay, if one
HONEST man, in this State of
Massachusetts, ceasing to hold slaves, were actually to withdraw from
this co-partnership, and be locked up in the county jail therefor, it would be
the abolition of slavery in America. For it matters not how small the beginning
may seem to be: what is once well done is done forever. But we love better to
talk about it: that we say is our mission. Reform keeps many scores of
newspapers in its service, but not one man. If my esteemed neighbor, the State's
ambassador, who will devote his days to the settlement of the question of human
rights in the Council Chamber, instead of being threatened with the prisons of
Carolina, were to sit down the prisoner of Massachusetts, that State which is so
anxious to foist the sin of slavery upon her sister,—though at present she can discover only an act of
inhospitality to be the ground of a quarrel with her,—the Legislature would not wholly waive the subject of the
following winter....
Under a government which imprisons unjustly, the true
place for a just man is also a prison. The proper place today, the only place
which Massachusetts has provided for her freer and less despondent spirits, is
in her prisons, to be put out and locked out of the State by her own act, as
they have already put themselves out by their principles. It is there that the
fugitive slave, and the Mexican prisoner on parole, and the Indian come to plead
the wrongs of his race should find them; on that separate, but more free and
honorable ground, where the State places those who are not with her, but against
her,—the only
house in a slave-state in which a free man can abide with honor. If any think
that their influence would be lost there, and their voices no longer afflict the
ear of the State, that they would not be as an enemy within its walls, they do
not know by how much truth is stronger than error, nor how much more eloquently
and effectively he can combat injustice who has experienced a little in his own
person. Cast your whole vote, not a strip of paper merely, but your whole
influence. A minority is powerless while it conforms to the majority; it is not
even a minority then; but it is irresistible when it clogs by its whole weight.
If the alternative is to keep all just men in prison, or give up war and
slavery, the State will not hesitate which to choose. If a thousand men were not
to pay their tax bills this year, that would not be a violent and bloody
measure, as it would be to pay them, and enable the State to commit violence and
shed innocent blood. This is, in fact, the definition of a peaceable revolution,
if any such is possible. If the tax-gatherer, or any other public officer, asks
me, as one has done, "But what shall I do?" my answer is, "If you
really wish to do anything, resign your office." When the subject has
refused allegiance, and the officer has resigned from office, then the
revolution is accomplished. But even suppose blood shed when the conscience is
wounded? Through this wound a man's real manhood and immortality flow out, and
he bleeds to an everlasting death. I see this blood flowing now....
I have paid no poll tax for six years. I was put into a
jail once on this account, for one night; and, as I stood considering the walls
of solid stone, two or three feet thick, the door of wood and iron, a foot
thick, and the iron grating which strained the light, I could not help being
struck with the foolishness of that institution which treated me as if I were
mere flesh and blood and bones, to be locked up. I wondered that it should have
concluded at length that this was the best use it could put me to, and had never
thought to avail itself of my services in some way. I saw that, if there was a
wall of stone between me and my townsmen, there was a still more difficult one
to climb or break through before they could get to be as free as I was. I did
not for a moment feel confined, and the walls seemed a great waste of stone and
mortar. I felt as if I alone of all my townsmen had paid my tax. They plainly
did not know how to treat me, but behaved like persons who are underbred. In
every threat and in every compliment there was a blunder; for they thought that
my chief desire was to stand the other side of that stone wall. I could not but
smile to see how industriously they locked the door on my meditations, which
followed them out again without let or hindrance, and they were really all that
was dangerous. As they could not reach me, they had resolved to punish my body;
just as boys, if they cannot come at some person against whom they have a spite,
will abuse his dog. I saw that the State was half-witted, that it was timid as a
lone woman with her silver spoons, and that it did not know its friends from its
foes, and I lost all my remaining respect for it, and pitied it.
Thus the state never intentionally confronts a man's
sense, intellectual or moral, but only his body, his senses. It is not armed
with superior wit or honesty, but with superior physical strength. I was not
born to be forced. I will breathe after my own fashion. Let us see who is the
strongest. What force has a multitude? They only can force me who obey a higher
law than I. They force me to become like themselves. I do not hear of men
being forced to live this way or that by masses of men. What sort of life
were that to live? When I meet a government which says to me, "Your money
or your life," why should I be in haste to give it my money? It may be in a
great strait, and not know what to do: I cannot help that. It must help itself;
do as I do. It is not worth the while to snivel about it. I am not responsible
for the successful working of the machinery of society. I am not the son of the
engineer. I perceive that, when an acorn and a chestnut fall side by side, the
one does not remain inert to make way for the other, but both obey their own
laws, and spring and grow and flourish as best they can, till one, perchance,
overshadows and destroys the other. If a plant cannot live according to nature,
it dies; and so a man....
I know that most men think differently from myself; but
those whose lives are by profession devoted to the study of these or kindred
subjects content me as little as any. Statesmen and legislators, standing so
completely within the institution, never distinctly and nakedly behold it. They
speak of moving society, but have no resting-place without it. They may be men
of a certain experience and discrimination, and have no doubt invented ingenious
and even useful systems, for which we sincerely thank them; but all their wit
and usefulness lie within certain not very wide limits. They are wont to forget
that the world is not governed by policy and expediency. Webster never goes
behind government, and so cannot speak with authority about it. His words are
wisdom to those legislators who contemplate no essential reform in the existing
government; but for thinkers, and those who legislate for all time, he never
once glances at the subject. I know of those whose serene and wise speculations
on this theme would soon reveal the limits of his mind's range and hospitality.
Yet, compared with the cheap professions of most reformers, and the still
cheaper wisdom an eloquence of politicians in general, his are almost the only
sensible and valuable words, and we thank Heaven for him. Comparatively, he is
always strong, original, and, above all, practical. Still, his quality is not
wisdom, but prudence. The lawyer's truth is not Truth, but consistency or a
consistent expediency. Truth is always in harmony with herself, and is not
concerned chiefly to reveal the justice that may consist with wrong-doing. He
well deserves to be called, as he has been called, the Defender of the
Constitution. There are really no blows to be given him but defensive ones. He
is not a leader, but a follower. His leaders are the men of '87. "I have
never made an effort," he says, "and never propose to make an effort;
I have never countenanced an effort, and never mean to countenance an effort, to
disturb the arrangement as originally made, by which various States came into
the Union." Still thinking of the sanction which the Constitution gives to
slavery, he says, "Because it was part of the original compact—let it
stand." Notwithstanding his special acuteness and ability, he is unable to
take a fact out of its merely political relations, and behold it as it lies
absolutely to be disposed of by the intellect—what, for
instance, it behooves a man to do here in American today with regard to slavery—but ventures, or is driven, to make some such desperate
answer to the following, while professing to speak absolutely, and as a private
man—from which what
new and singular of social duties might be inferred? "The manner,"
says he, "in which the governments of the States where slavery exists are
to regulate it is for their own consideration, under the responsibility to their
constituents, to the general laws of propriety, humanity, and justice, and to
God. Associations formed elsewhere, springing from a feeling of humanity, or any
other cause, have nothing whatever to do with it. They have never received any
encouragement from me and they never will."
They who know of no purer sources of truth, who have
traced up its stream no higher, stand, and wisely stand, by the Bible and the
Constitution, and drink at it there with reverence and humanity; but they who
behold where it comes trickling into this lake or that pool, gird up their loins
once more, and continue their pilgrimage toward its fountainhead.
No man with a genius for legislation has appeared in
America. They are rare in the history of the world. There are orators,
politicians, and eloquent men, by the thousand; but the speaker has not yet
opened his mouth to speak who is capable of settling the much-vexed questions of
the day. We love eloquence for its own sake, and not for any truth which it may
utter, or any heroism it may inspire. Our legislators have not yet learned the
comparative value of free trade and of freed, of union, and of rectitude, to a
nation. They have no genius or talent for comparatively humble questions of
taxation and finance, commerce and manufactures and agriculture. If we were left
solely to the wordy wit of legislators in Congress for our guidance, uncorrected
by the seasonable experience and the effectual complaints of the people, America
would not long retain her rank among the nations. For eighteen hundred years,
though perchance I have no right to say it, the New Testament has been written;
yet where is the legislator who has wisdom and practical talent enough to avail
himself of the light which it sheds on the science of legislation?
The authority of government, even such as I am willing to
submit to,—for I will
cheerfully obey those who know and can do better than I, and in many things even
those who neither know nor can do so well,—is still an impure one: to be strictly just, it must have the sanction and
consent of the governed. It can have no pure right over my person and property
but what I concede to it. The progress from an absolute to a limited monarchy,
from a limited monarchy to a democracy, is a progress toward a true respect for
the individual. Even the Chinese philosopher was wise enough to regard the
individual as the basis of the empire. Is a democracy, such as we know it, the
last improvement possible in government? Is it not possible to take a step
further towards recognizing and organizing the rights of man? There will never
be a really free and enlightened State until the State comes to recognize the
individual as a higher and independent power, from which all its own power and
authority are derived, and treats him accordingly. I please myself with
imagining a State at last which can afford to be just to all men, and to treat
the individual with respect as a neighbor; which even would not think it
inconsistent with its own repose if a few were to live aloof from it, not
meddling with it, nor embraced by it, who fulfilled all the duties of neighbors
and fellow men. A State which bore this kind of fruit, and suffered it to drop
off as fast as it ripened, would prepare the way for a still more perfect and
glorious State, which I have also imagined, but not yet anywhere seen.[1]
[1]"From Resistance to Civil Government," Microsoft Encarta
Encyclopedia 99. 1993-1998
Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.
¡¡ |