IN nearly all the Greek city-states the form of government passed through four stages : monarchy, oligarchy, tyranny, and democracy. Sparta was the chief exception to this rule. In the other Greek cities the tyrants had been expelled and republics established before the Persian wars. Rome, too, was a republic from 509 B.C. to 31 B.C. In both Greece and Rome, government was originally theocratic in its nature. The rulers were regarded as a sacerdotal class. Magistrates exercised religious functions. The laws were religious traditions. Custom, sanctioned by religion, reigned supreme. With the progress of civilization custom gradually lost its hold and was supplanted by reason. Laws were no longer regarded as being externally imposed by the gods or some great lawgiver, but as the creation of the popular consciousness. The rulers were now no longer regarded as priests, but as magistrates.1 When Demos conquered, the will of the people became the source of law, the consent of the majority its foundation. Public interest became the principle of government. The suffrage of the people, by creating both law and magistrates, was regarded as the true sovereign. “What the votes of the people have ordained,” the Twelve Tables say, “in the last instance is the law.”1 “No one has power,” says Cicero, “except from the people.”2 The people made the laws and decided concerning peace and war.3 “This is the condition of a free people,” Cicero affirms in another oration, “and especially of this chief people, the lord and conqueror of all nations, to be able to give or to take away by their votes whatever they see fit.”4 Even Augustus issued the laws in the name of the people. The doctrine of the sovereignty of the people was put forth by jurists during the time of Hadrian. Ulpian, as late as the time of the Emperor Severus, declared the validity of the imperial constitutions to derive from the fact that the people had delegated their sovereign power to the emperor.5 The autocratic Emperor Justinian declares “that to be a law which the Roman people constituted so.” “But likewise that which pleases the ruler has the force of law,” he says, “because the people have, by the Lex regia, conceded to him their imperium and power.”6
The theory of the Roman jurists, that the Roman people conferred their sovereignty upon the emperors by means of the Lex regia, gave rise to the compact theory of government which plays so important a part in the political philosophy of mediæval and modern times. The idea of a compact, however, was already familiar to the Sophists and to Aristotle.1
With the appearance of Christianity and of the Germans on the scene of history, ancient history closes and a new period begins. These two factors produced an entirely new civilization. Both favored individualism and democracy.
Christianity taught that God is no respecter of persons; that in His sight all men are equal; that every individual is accountable to a personal God for all his actions; that there is no human mediator between God and man. Christ is the Saviour of mankind, not of any particular race or people. The God of Christianity does not prefer particular places or peoples. Christianity tore down the barriers between Greeks, Romans, and barbarians, and created a feeling of human brotherhood which supplanted and exceeded in strength the patriotism of the old nations. Christ aimed to break down the barriers not only between the nations, but also between the classes, by endeavoring to elevate the lower classes and so obviate the inequality which ages had hallowed. Christianity contained the germs of a new social and political order. Whenever there is a revival of primitive Christianity, a renewal of the democratic spirit is observable.2
The individualistic and democratic spirit is also a striking characteristic of the ancient Teutons. The Teuton demanded free disposition of himself and was passionately devoted to his liberty. He would submit to no corporal punishment, except when inflicted by a priest, who was regarded as representing the gods. His relation to the constituted authorities was one of fidelity rather than of obedience.1
The government of the ancient Germans was thoroughly democratic. The people were the real source of power. The freemen formed the kernel of the people. Slaves were not numerous. Though a nobility existed, the nobles formed no political caste, but only enjoyed a somewhat higher social consideration than the ordinary freemen. Moreover, kings were chosen from noble families only.2
The popular assemblies, whether those of the hundred or of the tribe, were the centres of political life and power. All freemen were members of these assemblies and participated in their deliberations. While the meeting of the hundred seems to have been mainly for judicial purposes, the tribal assembly dealt with the weightiest questions, for it decided concerning peace or war, elected the chiefs, and had control over all matters too important to be left to the chiefs.3
The royal authority was not unlimited, but was a creation of the will of the people.4 Kings were chosen from noble families. There was no fixed order of succession. The people elected the king from a definite family. When the old family had died out or when royalty was first to be established, the decision rested entirely with the people.1
The chiefs or dukes were likewise chosen by the people in their assemblies to lead in time of war.2 Likewise did the election of princes (principes) rest with the assembly. They were chosen from noble families, probably for life, and had charge of minor affairs, besides being judges in the ordinary courts.3 Thus the people were the source of all power. In the tribes where there were no kings, the assembly of all the freemen of the tribe exercised chief control over affairs. Where there were kings the royal power was limited by the assembly.4 Before Pippin deposed the Merovingian family he conferred with the people. From them, also, he obtained his crown in 751, just as Chlodovech had before him.5 Pippin submitted to the people an agreement he had made with the pope regarding the Lombards.6 With the consent of all the Franks, Charles, at the death of his brother Karlmann, became king, to the exclusion of the sons of his brother.7 Even during the early Merovingian period the king had but little power as against the entire people assembled in the army.8 But as the State gradually went beyond the limits of a single tribe a change set in as regards its constitution. Great conquests had increased the power of the Frankish king. He had become master over an immense domain which was at his disposal. A large part of these lands were distributed among his faithful followers, especially among the servants of his household, whose power was thereby greatly increased,1 especially after they succeeded in making their office hereditary. Thus a new nobility arose.2 While on the one hand the royal power and prestige had increased immensely, having also been hallowed by religious consecration, and while a nobility had arisen which was fitted out with the means to make its pretensions felt, the number of freemen was steadily and rapidly diminishing, while that of the dependent class was increasing. Both the Church and the great families were intent upon increasing their possessions and the number of their dependents.3 The Frankish king no longer ruled over a free people who were in general equal. Classes had arisen. Social changes had produced political changes. A powerful aristocracy now stood over against the king. The power of the old assembly of the tribe had become evanescent and was no longer adapted to the new circumstances. A meeting of the tribe had become impossible as the size of the State had increased. Only the army could check the royal authority. There were no representative institutions to succeed the old popular assembly and arrest the disintegrating progress. The administration passed into the hands of the royal officers—the counts and missi. Commendation and the custom of granting benefices produced the feudal constitution of society and disintegrated the State. The ruler was no longer a popular king, but the head of a feudal oligarchy. He was now a feudal overlord rather than the sovereign of the nation.
Yet the traditions of the Roman republic and of early German freedom lingered on throughout the Middle Ages. The names respublica and populus Romanus had not lost their significance, especially to the city of Rome. The Roman law had never fallen into complete forgetfulness, at least not in Italy. A large part of Roman law, including the sections of Justinian’s Institutes which relate to the transfer of sovereignty or imperium from the people to the emperor, was incorporated in the Collectio Anselmo dedicata, which arose between 883–897. This collection, which brought the Roman law into connection with the Canon law, was for a long time in general use.1 Ivo, Bishop of Chartres, who died in 1115, likewise embodied the section of Justinian treating of the Lex regia into his two collections, the Pannormia and the Decretum.2
During the struggle between Hildebrand and Henry IV. in the last quarter of the eleventh century, the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people was used by the adherents of the pope to prove that the emperor did not rule by divine right. The German monk, Manegold von Lautenbach, denied that royalty is founded in nature and claimed that it was an office. He believed that a compact had been made between the people and their king. If the king broke this contract and became a tyrant he might be driven away, as one would drive away a swine-herd. The same ideas, which were derived from Justinian’s Institutes, are expressed in a document issued by several cardinals who opposed Gregory. But whereas Manegold maintains that the people have a right to revoke the sovereignty they have once conferred on their ruler, the cardinals contend that the will of the people becomes binding and cannot be changed. We have here the views of Hobbes and Locke put forth at this early date.1
The influence of the ideas and traditions of antiquity during the Middle Ages is strikingly exemplified by the movement that took place in Italy during the middle of the twelfth century, which was chiefly brought about by the fiery eloquence of Arnold of Brescia, a man who was, as regards several of his ideas, many centuries in advance of his time. Half priest, half political reformer, he preached that Church and State should be separated; that the simplicity of the apostolic times should be introduced, the corruption of the Church, the pride and worldliness of the clergy be done away with; and that a republic, with Roman laws and institutions, should replace the feudal State. He declared serfdom to be contrary to the teachings of Christianity and the temporal power of the Church to be a violation of the Scriptures. The Romans, stirred into activity by his eloquence, renounced their fidelity to the pope and restored the Roman senate and republic. The letter written by the Romans to the Emperor Conrad III. contains the following words: “To the most distinguished and famous lord of the city and of the whole world, Conrad, by the grace of God ever august Roman king, the senate and Roman people send greeting and their hopes for the happy and glorious government of the Roman empire.”1 It is their desire to restore the Roman kingdom and empire to the condition “in which it was in the time of Constantine and Justinian, who ruled the world through the power of the senate and the Roman people.” They wish that Rome, the head of the world, might become the capital of the empire as it had been in the days of Justinian.2 A partisan of Arnold, in a letter to Frederick Barbarossa, the successor of Conrad, expresses identical views. He holds that the imperial dignity, like every government, is an emanation from the majesty of the Roman people, who alone can create emperors. He advised Frederick to receive the imperial dignity according to the law of Justinian and thereby avoid a revolution.3 The republicans had driven Pope Hadrian from the city. The assistance of Frederick was sought by both parties. The German king decided for the pope. Before reaching Rome he was met by deputies of the republican party. “We,” these messengers said, “the delegates of the city, and not of a small part of it, O best king, are sent to your presence by the senate and Roman people. Hear serenely and kindly what is despatched to you by the gracious city, the mistress of the world, whose chief emperor and lord you will, by the grace of God, soon be. . . . You seek dominion over the world. I arise gladly and meet you joyfully, to offer you the crown. . . . You were a guest; I have made you a citizen. You were a stranger from the land beyond the Alps; I have made you a prince. What was lawfully mine I have given to you.”4 It is needless to say that the proud Hohenstaufen did not accede to the Roman demands, but insisted on his divine right. He put down the rebellion. Arnold was burned. The attempt to found a State based on the sovereignty of the people did not succeed.
While the above ideas are derived from Justinian’s Institutes, Aquinas was influenced by Aristotle and by the conception of Natural Law of Cicero. Like Aristotle, he declared the common welfare to be the purpose of government and considered that government to be unjust which neglected the general good and sought only that of the ruler.1 Though he prefers monarchy as a form of government, he declares that the constitution of any kingdom should be such that the royal power is moderated. The king must not command anything that is contrary to Natural Law. This law stands above him. Aquinas does not sanction the murder of tyrants by private persons, but he maintains that they may be proceeded against by public authority. As it belongs of right to a society to select a king, so it is not unjust for society to depose him or limit his powers. Faith is not broken thereby even if the society surrendered itself forever, for if the king has not fulfilled his duty, he himself has merited his fate and caused the compact to be broken.2
The doctrine of the sovereignty of the people was most fully developed during the Middle Ages by Marsilius of Padua, elected rector of the University of Paris in 1312, who espoused the cause of the German Emperor Ludwig the Bavarian, in his struggle with Pope John XXII. The great work of Marsilius, the Defensor Pacis, which appeared in 1325, not only vindicated the right of the State against the pretensions of the papacy, but also asserted the sovereignty of the State to rest in the people. He regards the power to make laws as belonging to the people, or to the majority of their representatives, manifesting their will in a general assembly. He considers no other laws obligatory except those passed by the people, for they alone know the interests of the whole body. He calls it the height of injustice that a single person or a few have the power to control all, as if all men were not equal, but the slaves of another. In obeying the laws which issue from the body of the people each citizen obeys but himself. The rulers in the State derive their authority from the people, whose agents and executives they are. They must act in accordance with the wishes and the consent of their subjects. As the legislative power creates the executive, so it may correct or depose it. In reading Marsilius, Ockam, and other publicists of the first half of the fourteenth century, one is struck by the originality and modernness of their thoughts. They seem to us like men of our own day. Marsilius in many respects anticipated the ideas of the Contrat Social. He applies his democratic principles not only to the State, but also to the structure of the Church. He demands that congregations elect their priests. The State shall summon ecclesiastical councils whose members are to be chosen by popular suffrage of the congregations. For a while it seemed as if Ludwig were bent upon realizing the doctrines of his friend and coadjutor, whose influence over him was very great. But though, as it is almost needless to say, Marsilius’s democratic ideals were not carried out, his book was not forgotten.1
Lupold of Bebenburg, Bishop of Bamberg, who died in 1362, believes that the Roman people, meaning thereby the citizens of the Holy Roman Empire, have the power of making laws and of transferring the empire from one dynasty to another, if they see fit to do so, since the people are greater than the prince.2 In Germany the Kurfürsten were by some publicists held to have taken the place of the senate and the Roman people regarding the right to choose the emperor.3
It was in France that liberal principles throve best. The great French poem, the Roman de la Rose, which appeared in the early part of the fourteenth century, introduced among the people ideas of a natural state, in which the people lived in freedom and equality, without property, without strife or fear of each other.
In 1380, during the stormy times that characterized the beginning of the reign of Charles VI., the king’s chancellor, yielding to the demands made by the people, said in a discourse to them, that, though kings deny it a hundred times, they rule by the consent of the people (reges regnant suffragio populorum), and that the royal splendor flows from the sweat of the subjects. The vigilance of the king should procure the people’s welfare and allow them to enjoy the charms of repose and ease. The king ought never to abuse his power, but to govern his subjects clemently and mildly.1
The theory of the sovereignty of the people exerted an influence upon ecclesiastical affairs during the period of the great councils of the fifteenth century. The highest authority in church affairs was said by the advocates of the councils to rest, not with the pope, but with the entire church or its representatives. Paris took the greatest part in the movement. Its chief representative was John Gerson, the famous chancellor of the University of Paris. With Gerson the conception of Natural Law is fundamental. He enumerates a score of such Laws of Nature, among them that God must be obeyed before man; that God gave men power to build up, but not to destroy, the Church; that it is lawful to repel force by force; that the end gives a right to the means.2 The Law of Nature is, according to him, the supreme law. Church councils may create, depose, yes, even kill, popes, but they cannot command what is contrary to Natural Law.3 Gerson says that obedience is not due to a king who acts contrary to the interests of his people. In like manner a pope may be deposed if he does not fulfil his duties. The temporal ruler may call together a church council to deal with such a pope.4
Of like nature were the views of the German publicist, Nicolaus Cusanus, whose De concordantia catholica appeared in 1435. He regards every constitution as being based on Natural Law. Nothing contrary to this law is valid. It is innate, but clearer in the consciousness of some than of others. Those who are most penetrated by it are the natural leaders and lords of men. Inasmuch as all men are by nature equally free and powerful, no authority can be established but by the agreement and the consent of the subjects, that is, by election. The laws, also, can be established only by agreement. There is a general compact of society to obey kings. In a well-regulated State the rulers hold their position by election alone. They are themselves subject to the laws.1 Like Marsilius of Padua, Nicolaus of Cues holds that the laws must be passed by all who are to be bound by them, or by the representatives of all. Only on this condition can all citizens be obliged to obey the laws. To society belongs, likewise, the interpretation of the laws.2 He believes that the German electors elect the emperor in the name of the Roman people. According to him, all authority and all subjection arise voluntarily. The right of election is implanted by the Divinity through common necessity and Natural Law. All power being, like man himself, originally from God, is even then divine when originating in the consent of the subjects. The ruler elected becomes a public person and the father of the people. While he regards himself as the creature of the whole body of subjects, he is in reality the father of the citizens.3 Nicolaus considers it to be the duty of every ruler to promote the general good.4 Like Gerson, he applies his democratic ideas to the structure of the Church. He holds that a general council is without doubt superior to the pope.1
Like doctrines were put forth by Æneas Silvius Piccolomini, afterwards Pope Pius II. (1458–1464). He believes in a state of nature in which men originally lived after the expulsion from Paradise, in the manner of wild beasts. Discovering that the society of their fellow men contributed to good living, they assembled to form society, built homes, surrounded cities with walls and discovered the arts which heighten the value of life. Civil life suited them wonderfully well. But as there are many favors conferred upon man by his fellows, so there is no injury which does not originate with man. Soon society began to be violated, faith to be broken, peace to be disturbed, injuries to be inflicted upon neighbors—in short, all rights were violated. It was cupidity that did not permit the laws of society to be observed. Oppressed by the more powerful among their number, men betook themselves to one who possessed overtowering strength and virtue, that he might shield the weak and deal out justice to all alike. Thus kingship arose. This dignity was conferred upon an individual for the promotion of public utility and the ministration of justice.2 That king is a tyrant who seeks his own private advantage instead of the welfare of the people.3 Applying these ideas to ecclesiastical affairs, Æneas Silvius says: “The pope holds the same position in the Church as the king does in his realm. Just as kings who rule badly and become tyrants are at times driven from the kingdom, so the Roman pontiff can likewise be deposed by the Church, that is, by a general council. This no one can deny.”1 The councils of Pisa (1409), Constance (1414–1418), and Basel (1431–1443), were dominated by these ideas. The papal power had greatly sunken. Papal infallibility came to be doubted, for several popes alike claimed to be infallible. It was the Schism which made the democratic movement possible. Inasmuch as the right of the emperor to institute popes at his pleasure was at this time denied, the quarrel between rival popes could be settled only by the synods of the entire Church. But the papacy recovered its former power and superiority. Already in 1460 it was forbidden to appeal from the pope to a council. Æneas Silvius, in his youthful days the champion of the supremacy of church councils, after becoming pope, denounced the views he himself had once put forth. In France, however, the democratic ideas of this movement survived.2
In 1484, during the minority of Charles VIII., political doctrines were uttered in the states-general at Tours which are strikingly modern. “Originally, the sovereign people created kings by their votes,” said La Roche, a deputy from Burgundy. Those were chosen as kings, he asserted, who excelled in noble qualities. The people chose rulers for their welfare. It is the duty of princes not to despoil the people and enrich themselves, but to forget their own interest in enriching the State. If they act otherwise they are tyrants—wolves, and not true shepherds. The State is the people. Power was entrusted to kings by the people. Those who hold power by force or otherwise than by the consent of the people are tyrants and usurpers. The king cannot dispose of the State. He cannot relinquish his power to one or more. Power reverts to the people, who gave it originally. They resume it as their own.1
We have seen that the Middle Ages were by no means as barren in political thought as is generally supposed. Marsilius of Padua, Manegold of Lautenbach, Ockam, Gerson, Nicolaus of Cues, and others were the forerunners of the Monarchomachists, of Milton, Sidney, Locke, and Rousseau, and put forth nearly all the political principles of the eighteenth century. There is surprisingly little novelty in political thought. Mediæval political ideas were themselves but a reproduction and development of the theories of antiquity—of the Roman jurists, of Cicero, Aristotle, Plato, and other writers.
These doctrines exerted but little lasting influence during the Middle Ages. Marsilius’s plans were not realized; the restoration of the Roman republic attempted by Arnold of Brescia and Rienzi proved abortive; the Italian republics of the Renaissance fell into the hands of tyrants; the power for a time exercised by the great church councils of the fifteenth century reverted to the papacy.
The Middle Ages did not favor individualism. Custom and tradition had too strong a power. Men had little standing as individuals: they were members of a caste, of a guild, or some other association, primarily. Men occupied a status : they stood in a definite relation to something or somebody. The Renaissance and the Reformation discovered the individual. They recognized man as man—as being something in himself. Men must become self-conscious before they can become free.