The Federalist Papers

by Alexander Hamilton, John Jay, James Madison

Start Free Trial

Publius the Nationalist

Download PDF PDF Page Citation Cite Share Link Share

SOURCE: Milligan, Edward. “Publius the Nationalist.” In One United People: The Federalist Papers and the National Idea, pp. 209-29. Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1990.

[In the following essay, Milligan argues that the authors of The Federalist Papers—collectively and individually—are better thought of as nationalists than federalists, suggesting that they very clearly favored a strong centralized national government, but disputing the notion that they primarily defended the property rights of the wealthy.]

The exposition of the argument of Publius is now complete, and it is time to stand back from the canvas to take an overall look. The foregoing analysis has shown that The Federalist exhibits a clearly nationalist outlook and that the other prominent themes of the essays—federalism, separation of powers, checks and balances, and the interest-group theory of No. 10—are less central to Publius's purpose. Without difficulty, we can ascertain from the text of this treatise, what we know anyway from other sources, that Hamilton, Madison, and Jay wished above all else to coordinate the resources of the American nation and in reality had no love for the federal features of the new Constitution.

The present study has identified four key propositions that can be considered to comprise the nationalist point of view. All are present in The Federalist, which maintains that (1) the American people constitute a nation; (2) their domestic affairs should be free from foreign interference; (3) they should be governed by a centralized authority; and (4) this regime should represent the political will of the population as a whole.

The clearest affirmation of American nationhood is found at the very beginning of The Federalist, in the strking description of No. 2 (9-10). Jay's notable statement exhibits a clear comprehension of what a nation is, it expressly asserts that governments should be founded on national ties, and it comes at the very outset of the argument of Publius, where we expect to find the fundamental premises of the entire case. Hamilton in No. 12 and Madison in No. 14 also portray America as a community bound together by geography, “blended and interwoven” interests, “affinity of language and manners,” “kindred blood,” and other typical aspects of nationality (74-78, 88). The Federalist always presumes that, in general, national affinities readily serve as the foundation for a political bond: No. 13 observes that regimes coalesce around “the links of national sympathy and connection”; No. 18 identifies a uniformity of language and custom as the main reason for the success of the Achaean league; No. 19 advances “homogeneous manners” as an explanation for the ability of the Swiss to stay together; No. 49 points out the advantage to the rulers of having “the prejudices of the community” on their side; and No. 85 proclaims that “a nation without a national government is, in my view, an awful spectacle” (81-82, 114, 122-23, 340, 594). Undoubtedly, a nationalistic vision is behind this argument for the Constitution.

It is true that Publius seems to regard two components of the national connection, geography and material interest, as especially relevant to the American situation. The American provinces are geographically near to each other and distant from Europe. Thus their respective residents will frequently interact, which requires that their concerns somehow be harmonized, lest conflict and even war result (40). On the other hand, Americans need not become involved in the quarrels of far-off parts of the world. Therefore, as long as we are united, we need not risk the presence of those “engines of despotism,” large standing armies (46). Publius considers the practical concerns of the American people to be naturally congruent: our national leaders, he says, will “regard the interest of the whole, and the particular interests of the parts as connected with that of the whole” (21). He condemns factions because they seek advantages “adverse to the rights of other citizens, or to the permanent and aggregate interests of the community” (57). And he constantly makes reference to “the public good,” or “justice and the general good,” or “the general welfare,” or other phrases denoting our country's overall well-being (5, 60, 482, 353, 424). He emphatically believes that all Americans may jointly flourish and should act together.

Publius constantly refers to the residents of the United States as a single collective mass, using such phrases as “the people of this country,” “one united people,” “the great body of the people,” “the people of America,” “the great body of the community,” “the great bulk of the citizens of America,” “the majority of America,” or simply, “the people” (3, 9, 309, 375, 573, 584, 590). He believes that we are largely shaped by our communal attachments. The militia is harmless to liberty because “what shadow of danger can there be from men who are daily mingling with the rest of their countrymen; and who participate with them in the same feelings, sentiments, habits and interests?” (185). Senators must be American citizens, and hence they will not use their “private fortunes” in a way contrary to the national interest (377). A certain amount of time is needed to assimilate immigrants into the nation (415). Americans feel for each other “the affection of friends”; we are “a band of brethren” who “speak with one voice”; and we are imbued with a unique “spirit” or “genius” that “nourishes freedom, and in turn is nourished by it” (294, 9-10, 387). Publius sees this united social body as the foundation of the Constitution. Hamilton maintains that “the fabric of American Empire ought to rest on the solid basis of the consent of the people” (146), and Madison avows that “the Fœderal and State Governments” are rightfully “dependent on the great body of the citizens of the United States” (315).

The Federalist not only perceives America as a nation in the fullest sense, but also expresses prominent concern for our national self-determination. Publius repeatedly contends that preservation of the union is essential to forestall foreign interference in our internal affairs. He shudders at the prospect of “three or four independent and probably discordant republics and confederacies, one inclining to Britain, another to France, and a third to Spain, and perhaps played off against each other by the three.” He warns of “foreign corruption”; he notes that domestic factions may receive “secret succors from foreign powers”; and he calls “the diminution of the opportunities to foreign intrigue” a principal benefit of the Constitution (23, 27, 142, 294, 588). Publius believes in the irrepressible antagonism of nations: Jay shows how our welfare will inevitably clash with that of several European powers; Hamilton mintains that “the causes of hostility among nations are innumerable”; and Madison observes the utter lack of “benevolent feelings” of nations for each other (19-20, 28, 420). Thus, we must keep other countries at arms' length.

The need for centralized government is Publius's favorite topic. From the beginning to the end of The Federalist, he is most emphatic on the virtues of coordinated planning, uniformity, and a comprehensive perspective. Decisions of importance to the whole country, the authors say, must be made at the center by leaders who can take a broad view. The Continental Congress exemplifies this kind of chieftainship, notes Jay: “being convened from different parts of the country, they brought with them and communicated to each other a variety of useful information” (11). A national regime, Jay observes, “can move on uniform principles of policy—It can harmonize, assimilate, and protect the several parts and members, and extend the benefit of its foresight and precautions to each” (20-21). And Madison declares that “the public affairs of the union … can with difficulty be correctly learnt in any other place, than in the central councils, to which a knowledge of them will be brought by the representatives of every part” (363).

Let Publius consider any problem of the day, and his remedy is likely to involve an all-embracing, coherent program by the central government. Does America need a navy? The federal authorities must put “Southern wood” together with “seamen … drawn from the Northern hive.” Is a more efficient revenue system required? A national regime motivated “to provide against violations every where,” is the answer. Is a better national defense necessary? “Who so likely to make suitable provisions … as that body … which, as the center of information, will best understand … the dangers that threaten—as the representative of the whole will feel itself … interested in the preservation of every part … and which … can … establish uniformity and concert in the plans and measures, by which the common safety is to be secured?” Should “the organization and discipline of the militia” be improved? The solution is “uniformity,” to be achieved “by confiding the regulation of the militia to the direction of the national authority.” Is the foreign policy of the Confederation confused? We want the “certainty and uniformity” of one national line of conduct. What is to be gained by national regulation of elections for the House? We will attain the “positive advantage” of “uniformity,” of course (70-71, 77, 149, 181, 281, 413).

The necessity for comprehensive management of America's economic affairs is emphasized by Publius, particularly in No. 11. “Under a vigorous national government, the natural strength and resources of the country, directed to a common interest, would baffle all the combinations of European jealousy to restrain our growth,” he says. We can defeat our foreign competitors with “prohibitory regulations, extending at the same time throughout the States,” which will force other nations “to bid against each other, for the privileges of our markets.” Any internal trade barriers should, however, be lowered: “unrestrained intercourse between the States themselves will advance the trade of each,” he asserts. Thus a potent national government is needed both to control America's foreign commerce and to ensure the absence of domestic impediments (65-73). This is obviously pure neomercantilism, or economic nationalism. No. 22 presents the reverse of this desirable policy—the defective practices of the confederation. The Articles have assigned the national government no power over trade, so foreign countries may enter our domestic market without hindrance, and “the interfering and unneighbourly regulations of some States” against each other threaten to turn fellow Americans into “foreigners and aliens,” Publius contends (137).

Besides the simple absence of certain powers, such as that over commerce, Publius feels that “the great and radical vice in the … existing Confederation is in the principle of legislation for States or governments, in their corporate or collective capacities.” As a result, he notes, decisions of the national rulers are “in practice … mere recommendations, which the States observe or disregard at their option.” But the provincial leaders do not possess the wide-ranging perspective of the central representatives. The subordinate members will evaluate national policies “without that knowledge of national circumstances and reasons of state, which is essential to a right judgement, and with that strong predilection in favor of local objects, which can hardly fail to mislead the decision.” The only answer is for the federal regime to act directly on individuals, Publius asserts. National enactments should “pass into immediate operation upon the citizens themselves” (93, 103).

And the public power of America should not only be centralized, but strong and active as well. Publius observes that “the vigour of government is essential to the security of liberty,” that “energetic government” is needed to “preserve the Union of so large an empire” as America; that the national regime must be allowed “an unconfined authority, as to all those objects … entrusted to its management”; that “a weak constitution must necessarily terminate in dissolution … or … usurpation”; and that “tyranny has perhaps oftener grown out of the assumptions of power, called for, on pressing exigencies, by a defective constitution, than by the full exercise of the largest constitutional authorities” (5, 127, 191). Publius devotes seven essays to the need for an unlimited power of taxation at the federal level, and five to the necessity for a national standing army to suppress rebellions among the people. He endorses the concept of implied powers (303-4). He obviously does not favor a passive regime. In short, Publius is above all else concerned to make the case for a forceful centralized government. Although Hobbes's name is not mentioned in this work, his presence can be felt.

Publius is certain that the system of free elections will ensure popular control of the new regime, and he manifests this faith throughout The Federalist. Thus, he says, the standing army under the Constitution will be no real threat to American freedom because “the whole power of the proposed government is in the hands of the representatives of the people.” He calls representation the “great mechanical power in government, by … which, the will of the largest political body may be concentred, and its force directed to any object, which the public good requires.” Our rulers will respect the popular will because they are “dependent on the suffrages of … fellow-citizens for the continuance of public honors.” Indeed, the proposed House of Representatives may be too close to the masses (178, 84, 221, 424-25). Even in No. 51, the notable discussion of checks and balances, Publius admits that these contrivances are only “auxiliary precautions” against despotism and that the best safeguard against tyranny is the government's “dependence on the people” (349). True, Publius uses two different concepts of representation, but both equally assert the government's ability to personate the nation.

Thus it is plain that the argument of Publius conforms in all important respects to the political theory of the nation-state. Yet it is possible to be more specific than this: Publius is a nation-builder. He is dealing with a population whose national sentiments cannot be taken for granted. He thinks that the common people will ordinarily feel more attached to their states than to the nation as a whole: “Upon the same principle that a man is more attached to his family than to his neighbourhood, to his neighbourhood than to the community at large, the people of each state would be apt to feel a stronger byass towards their local governments, than towards the government of the Union” (107). Stourzh, in his notable study of Hamilton's political philosophy, labels that statesman's project “Nation-Building without Patriotism,” and although the phrase is somewhat overdrawn, it is true that not only Hamilton, but also Publius, usually presumes strong national feelings to be rare among the people.1The Federalist relies on sagacious political leaders to provide a comprehensive perspective: “the public voice pronounced by the representatives of the people, will be more consonant to the public good, than if pronounced by the people themselves convened for the purpose,” it is said (62).

These comments on the weakness of national sentiments and the need for elite leadership do not reflect any lack of nationalistic vision on Publius's part, but simply the conditions of the day. A nation, we have noted, does not really exist from time immemorial, although that may be the official myth. Those entities are created out of populations that, while they may have numerous objective characteristics such as language or religion in common, do not originally think of themselves as belonging together. Initially, the bearers of the national idea are members of the social elite. The peasants of the rural hinterland tend to be localistic and familistic in their orientation and generally identify with the more inclusive community only after the national state has been in existence for some time. The Federalist was written before the full popularization of the idea of American nationhood.

That Publius is a genuine modern nationalist—rather than merely a paternalistic elitist—will further appear from two additional considerations. First, the authors reject aristocratic social distinctions. The “most decisive” mark of the republicanism of the new regime, Publius says, is the “absolute prohibition of titles of nobility.” This provision, indeed, is “the corner stone of republican government” (253, 577-78). Publius always assumes that the members of the American governing class will see themselves not as a privileged caste, but as part of a larger community. Our future wise rulers will be representatives of the nation, not an aristocracy set above the great majority. Second, Publius feels that the American commonalty will develop a broadened perspective after the establishment of a strong central regime. “The more … the national authority … is familiarized to their sight and to their feelings,” Publius says, “the greater will be the probability that it will conciliate the respect and attachment of the community.” Internal improvements, including post roads built by the national government, will help to bring our people closer together, and this “will contribute to a general assimilation of their manners and laws” (173, 363-64). In No. 60 Publius asserts that some diversity will always remain, but even in that essay he anticipates “a gradual assimilation” of our population (405).

And Publius shows in another way his appreciation of the fact that nationalistic feelings frequently follow, rather than precede, the exercise of governmental power. He points out that just as the American nation can be solidified by the operations of a centralized regime, so partial confederacies or the continuance of undiluted state sovereignty can irrevocably divide it (26-27). His recognition that communal sentiments grow up around existing political boundaries does not make Publius any less a nationalist. It only proves that he is a realistic adherent of that view.

Thus we find all significant aspects of the political theory of nationalism present somewhere in the argument of The Federalist. Our analysis of the text of the great work allows us to make an even stronger statement, however. Not only is Publius—the composite personality formed by the blending of Hamilton, Madison, and Jay—a nationalist, but each of the three authors individually is, as well. Separate scrutiny has, in fact, shown no substantive variance between the writers. True, there are certain discrepancies: Hamilton and Madison do not agree on the definition of a federal government, for example; and Hamilton is far more concerned about the dangers of foreign bribery than Madison and Jay appear to be. There are other inconsistencies. Yet none of these is crucially important. On the whole, the Publii display a uniform outlook. These men did not really concur on everything, as future events would reveal. But their disagreements were not very evident when they composed their notable justification for the Constitution.

There surely can be no doubt concerning Jay's nationalism. He wrote but a handful of essays, and his principal themes are strongly marked: American nationhood, threats from abroad, and the wisdom of a centralized elite. Indeed, so unequivocal and so strategically located are his comments that if we thought The Federalist were the work of one individual, we would unhesitatingly pronounce this person to be a nationalist, based largely on Jay's contributions. The national vision of No. 2 would be assumed to underlie all of Publius's subsequent remarks. But we know that this paper was the work of a writer who produced a few of the later numbers, so a resistant critic could conceivably question whether this clear-cut nationalistic perspective is characteristic of the rest of the work.

Yet will anyone really deny that Hamilton is also of this mind? His constant refrain in The Federalist is the imperative need for national centralization, as this was the polestar of his political career. Although he does not enumerate the elements of nationality as precisely as his colleague does in No. 2, his observations in No. 12 and No. 13 show that he shares Jay's conception of the American nation. He repeatedly praises the sagacity of the national elite. The two New Yorkers are clearly compatible in outlook. And although Jay's Federalist papers are few, Hamilton's are numerous. When we add them together we discover that fifty-six of the eighty-five essays, or two-thirds of the total, present the opinions of unadulterated nationalists. Indeed, past doubts about Publius's attitude have always centered on Madison.

Our careful review of the Virginian's contributions has shown that, contrary to what is often asserted, he expresses the same kind of nationalistic sentiments as his associates. The famous No. 10 is a criticism of small-scale government and a statement on behalf of a territorially extensive republic. Similarly, No. 14 is a plea for a large nation-state. No. 18 and No. 19 acknowledge the significance of national ties. No. 41 through No. 46 reiterate the Hamiltonian arguments for centralization. The discussion of the House of Representatives exhibits complete confidence that these delegates can accurately embody the will of the American people. And the discussion of the upper house likens this branch to the senates of ancient Carthage and Rome—strong councils that provided elite leadership for their communities. The idea of nationalism underlies Madison's essays as surely as it does the rest of The Federalist.

If there is any variance between Madison and his collagues, it is purely one of nuance. Hamilton and Jay are quite forceful and uncompromising in their call for national unification. Madison, who has a bit more of the philosopher in him, takes a less vehement approach, admits uncertainties, and affects an objective attitude. It is possibly fair to say that the Virginian is not so single-mindedly nationalistic as the other two. He gives an appreciable amount of attention and space to themes that seem only indirectly tied to the national concept: the multiplicity of interest groups envisioned in No. 10 and the checks and balances lauded in No. 51, for example. Hamilton and Jay rarely stray from a straight nationalist course, whereas Madison more frequently wanders in the byways of the argument. But we must not overrate the extent of the divergence. There is no major contradiction and no split personality. Madison asserts nothing inconsistent with the nationalistic point of view that he and his partners all uphold.

Moreover, just as Madison mixes his nationalism with a regard for counterveiling powers, so Hamilton also now and then pauses in his praise of centralization to remark on the advantages of interest-group pluralism and to call for a division of the governmental authorities. Madison expatiates more lengthily on these topics, but Hamilton obviously does not disagree. This is at most a difference in emphasis. The large principles that unite the Publii appear far more significant than the fine points by which they may be distinguished.

When Publius turns his attention to the internal structure of the new regime, he stresses the concepts of separation of powers and checks and balances. Therefore, we must decide whether those ideas are compatible with the nationalist viewpoint.

Three purposes are said to be served by these principles of organization. First, the public is protected from efforts by the rulers to usurp domestic power, since questionable actions on the part of one branch can be blocked by the others. This justification is emphasized in No. 51. Second, the community is secured from unwise or oppressive actions by the majority. In a sense this could be regarded as a protection for the people—from themselves. Yet this object clearly has an elitist tinge that is absent from the first. Third, the separation of powers is designed to allot governmental functions to those agencies able to carry them out most effectively. For example, the president and the Senate, which are seen as wiser and more stable than the populistic House, are envisioned as the sole actors with regard to American foreign policy. Contrary to the common presumption, none of these purposes necessarily implies a wish for a weak or passive national government.

Thus the first objective, restraint of the rulers, appears desirable to Publius precisely because he contemplates a potent central government: the feeble confederation authorities could be concentrated in one body without danger, Publius observes, but not the “additional powers” provided in the Constitution (145). Publius thinks that the federal regime should possess extensive prerogatives and should energetically employ them for the common good, yet he also understands the need to prevent abuse of these prerogatives. The authors of The Federalist were not simplistic thinkers; they were capable of arguing for a certain idea—national vigor—while at the same time recognizing the possible pitfalls of their favored course and trying to guard against them. Their wish to check the federal regime by means of an internal division is not a sign that they intended, in general, to prevent activity at the national level, but is only a qualification—or even a logical concomitant—of their dominant impulse toward energy and centralization. They anticipate that the separate branches will maintain “due harmony in all proper measures” (418).

Publius's second justification for governmental partition—the restraint of the majority—appears in two guises in The Federalist: it is sometimes said to be merely a means of blocking the foolish impulses of the direct representatives of the people, which can be taken as a call for passivity. But it is also frequently presented as a mechanism whereby wisdom may be injected into the policy-making process, and this latter formulation evidently envisions not that the authorities will ultimately be paralyzed, but rather that their actions will be rendered more judicious if at least some of them are sheltered from the whims of the commonalty. To a great extent, the less populistic agencies of the new central regime have been insulated from public clamor precisely to make them stronger, so that they can implement farsighted positive programs tending to the overall national benefit.

This point shades into the third argument for the division of government: that different segments of it will be relatively more effective for different purposes. Under this heading, some very important powers have been entirely concentrated in the president and the Senate. This arrangement certainly does not seem calculated to promote a diffusion and weakening of authority.

Which of these three reasons is most important to Publius? The first is featured in No. 51, the general discussion of separation of powers, whereas the second is actually disclaimed in that essay and the third is not mentioned. It is hardly surprising that the most populistic of the reasons—the one that speaks to the readers' possible feelings of distrust for the rulers—is stressed in the overall theoretical statement. The subsequent analysis of the various national branches emphasizes other factors, however. The House is not perceived as a checking body, but as an expression of the general will. The Senate and the president are envisioned as checking the majority—but usually in a positive way, by providing steady and wise leadership for the nation. On the whole, these agencies evidently are meant to be strong and vigorous. The courts, however, are prominently intended to safeguard the natural rights of the citizens by restraining the other branches—and, if necessary, the multitude. The judiciary, at least, does seem largely devoted to the protection of minority groups and individuals.

Thus the prevention of official despotism is one of the reasons for the separation of powers found in the Constitution, but not the only one, and governmental passivity as such is not the goal. We should remember that Publius always regards the system of popular representation as in itself sufficient to ensure the faithfulness of the national rulers to the democratic process. The authors of The Federalist were themselves among the popularly chosen governing elite of the nation, and they do not really believe that persons of their type are likely to be dangerous to the liberties of America. Madison specifically says that the division of public authority is only an “auxiliary” safeguard against tyranny, in the event the representative system breaks down.

Nationalistic presumptions underlie Publius's whole discussion of the structure of the new regime. It is true that one can detect in The Federalist a certain tension between two different concepts of the nation, the populist and the corporate—neither of which can be considered the only correct interpretation of the national idea. The blending of the two found in this work seems as appropriate a way as any to express the complexities of nationalism.

The House of Representatives is the incarnation of the populist concept. This body will “have an immediate dependence on, & an intimate sympathy with the people,” and members will “dwell among the people at large,” will possess “connections of blood, of friendship, and of acquaintance” with the “influential part of the society,” and will be regarded as “confidential guardians of the rights and liberties of the people.” In short, the House will speak “the sense of a majority (355, 341-42, 393). Publius also thinks the House will tend to partake of the infirmities of the masses and, therefore, will need to be checked by cooler and wiser heads, but he never doubts that the House can stand for the nation in a majoritarian sense. Rousseau's skepticism concerning representation—“the moment a people allows itself to be represented, it is no longer free”2—has no echo in the argument of The Federalist. Publius does once or twice hint that the House may act against the people, but he more often suggests that any fears of its possible infidelity are groundless.

The Senate has certain federalistic features, but Publius pays little attention to them. The chief recommendation of this body, he maintains, is that it will identify with the nation as a corporate entity. The senators will have a “due sense of national character”; they will comprise “an assembly so durably invested with public trust, that the pride and consequence of its members may be sensibly incorporated with the reputation and prosperity of the community”; they will seek “the good of the whole”; and they will be trustworthy because they cannot “make any treaties, by which they and their families and estates will not be equally bound and affected with the rest of the community; and having no private interest distinct from that of the nation, they will be under no temptations to neglect the latter” (423, 437-38). This elite council will bring stability and discretion to our national affairs, Publius contends.

The president will combine elements of centralization, populism, and elitism. The executive power has been allotted to one official because “unity is conducive to energy,” Publius points out. The presidential election procedure has been given a popular flavor in that it will depend on “men, chosen by the people for the special purpose, and at the particular conjuncture.” But the electors are an elite group who will “possess the information and discernment requisite to so complicated an investigation.” The president will be “the constitutional representative of the nation” with regard to foreign affairs. “If we are to be one nation in any respect, it clearly ought to be in respect to other nations,” Publius asserts (472, 458, 460, 506, 279). Like the Senate, the chief executive will tend to identify with the nation in a long-term sense, less perhaps on account of the four-year term per se, than because of the possibility of indefinite reelection. It is hoped therefore, that the president will not shrink from “extensive and arduous enterprises for the public benefit, requiring considerable time to mature and perfect them” (481-92, 488). If this is not an “imperial” president, it is at least a vigorous one.

The independent judiciary will “declare all acts contrary to the manifest tenor of the constitution void,” Publius asserts. He seems principally interested in this power as a means of controlling the states: it is the only feasible alternative to a direct national government veto of state actions. But the federal courts are also meant to restrain the other branches of the central regime, and the people themselves when temporary infatuation causes them to stray from their rational character. Because the fundamental character is the legal expression of the permanent will of the community, Publius clearly regards the judiciary as a voice for the nation in its corporate aspect. And it is a force for centralization. There is a need for a single final authority to provide “uniformity in the interpretation of the national laws,” he says (524, 535).

Thus the argument of Publius features a complete version of the political theory of the nation-state and a governmental plan that has been structured in accord with the imperatives of that theory. Centralization, populism, and a sense of corporate nationality have been blended in the institutions of the new regime.

Having presented his readers with an analysis of the American situation clearly implying the necessity for a centralized national government, Publius proceeds to recommend a rather different kind of regime, a federal union of partially sovereign states. He gives reasons for this choice, but they are weak ones and contrary to his general stance. Were we to judge strictly from the text of The Federalist, this proposal would not be easy for us to understand. There is a serious disjunction between the nationalistic principles of Publius and the federal nature of the plan.

Publius repeatedly maintains that the scheme of the Convention involves a division of sovereignty between the national government and the states. Indeed, Hamilton insists that the new charter will create a true confederation (55). Madison more accurately says that “the proposed Constitution … is in strictness neither a national nor a federal constitution, but a composition of both” (257). The two authors agree, however, that the states will retain very great powers under the suggested compact. Publius notes that the ratification process is on a state-by-state basis; that senators are allotted according to state equality and chosen by the state legislatures; that the powers of the national government are enumerated, with the rest by implication left to the states; and that the presidential election and constitutional amendment procedures have federal aspects. Also, Publius points out how, under the recommended design, “the State Legislatures, by forbearing the appointment of Senators, may destroy the National Government.” This is an “absolute safe-guard” of the state governments, Publius believes (253-57, 400-401). Our authors may have overstated the federal aspects of the proposed arrangement (55-56, 254, 256, 351)—may, indeed, have misappropriated the term federal as it was then understood. But they genuinely saw the Constitution as allowing the state governments considerable authority, even so.

So far, the anticonsolidationist school of critics might feel to a degree vindicated. It is true that in No. 39 Publius labels our Constitution as something more than a mere federal union, but he also regard it as rather less than a centralized nation-state. The real problem for the anticonsolidationist interpretation arises when we ask why Publius considers this arrangement to be necessary. Given the clear nationalistic predilections of The Federalist, why does Publius not simply recommend a unitary national government? Hamilton, Madison, and Jay have provided us with a partially federal government, but with no particularly good rationale for one.

Publius portrays the states as shortsighted, uncooperative, erratic, factious, and badly led, noting that these entities are often tempted by “local … interests” and “the prospect of present loss or advantage” into actions contrary to the general good. “The rulers of the respective members, whether they have a constitutional right to do it or not, will undertake to judge of the propriety” of national policies and will do this “in a spirit of interested and suspicious scrutiny,” without the information that is available at the federal level. America's sad experience with the Articles of Confederation shows that the states will not spontaneously work together (15, 97). Besides their awkward tendency to scamper off in thirteen different directions, they are prone to the domination of selfish special-interest groups. Also, they are “too unstable,” and their “fluctuating” measures often include “sudden changes and legislative interference in cases affecting personal rights.” Finally, they have been saddled with unimpressive chiefs, like Governor Clinton, “who possess not qualifications to extend their influence beyond the narrow circles of personal intrigue” (57, 301, 53).

The baleful weight of the states is, of course, accentuated under the confederation, because of the feebleness of the national regime. But Publius admits that these entities will continue their harmful ways under the Constitution and that the federal structure of the new government will contribute to the mischief. “There is in the nature of sovereign power an impatience of controul,” he points out. Thus it is precisely the fact that the states in our federal system retain some sovereignty that encourages divisive courses. The states will tend to “encroach on the national authorities.” Their jurisdiction over “criminal and civil justice” will “render them … dangerous rivals to the power of the Union.” Publius discovers “an inherent and intrinsic weakness in all Fœderal Constitutions.” He maintains that “the State Governments will too naturally be prone to a rivalship with that of the Union, the foundation of which will be the love of power.” He flatly asserts that “the danger which most threatens our political welfare, is, that the State Governments will finally sap the foundations of the Union.” He feels that under the proposed charter “a local spirit will infallibly prevail … in the members of Congress.” And he spells out the possible problems with “concurrent jurisdiction.” The suggested Constitution may be an improvement over the Articles of Confederation, but it will hardly be free from provincial trouble-making (96-97, 106, 117, 159, 205-6, 311, 318, 199-208).

Yet if the states are so potentially harmful, why have they been allowed to retain a large degree of sovereignty? Publius gives two reasons to justify the federal aspect of the proposed Constitution, neither of which appears sufficient to outweigh the dangers which have been enumerated at length.

First, Publius contends that the states are useful for purposes of local administration. The best statement of this point is in No. 10, where he declares that national officials may be “too little acquainted” with the “local circumstances and lesser interests” of the American population and that “the Federal Constitution forms a happy combination in this respect; the great and aggregate interests being referred to the national, the local and particular to the state legislatures” (63). State sovereignty will protect the provinces against attempts by the central government to interfere in their rightful sphere. Yet this rationale for federalism is less than conclusive, because Publius consistently denies that the national rulers will ever attempt to meddle with those matters appropriate for state action (105-7, 199, 317). Indeed, in No. 14 he asserts that even were the states to be “abolished,” the general government would willingly, even necessarily, “reinstate them in their proper jurisdiction” (86). Such statements, far from justifying the federal system, tend to show that it is superfluous. A unitary national regime could set up subordinate bodies for local purposes, as states establish counties, and according to Publius undoubtedly would do so. To invest the states with a perilous degree of sovereign power in order to counter a nonexistent threat to their internal autonomy appears a quixotic procedure, contrary to our authors' usual style.

Moreover, Publius explicitly approves a future expansion of the central regime's area of responsibility, if this is truly desired by the American people (173-74, 308-9, 315-16). National encroachments are not in this view necessarily an evil—a consideration that further diminishes the importance of federalism, from this perspective. Indeed, certain passages in The Federalist imply that the general government might not be wholly incompetent for local administration, after all (225, 300, 546-48). These statements should not be overstressed, because Publius more often indicates that there is some advantage to state management of minor matters, but his comments show that he is not a fanatic on the question. In fact, there are but a handful of references to the need for local governance in the whole treatise. This was not a priority concern of Hamilton, Madison and Jay.

The second, and intrinsically more important, justification for the federal system is the usefulness of the states for purposes of resistance to despotism. The provinces “will always be not only vigilant but suspicious and jealous guardians of the rights of the citizens, against incroachments from the Fœderal government … and will be ready enough, if any thing improper appears, to sound the alarm to the people and not only to be the voice but if necessary the arm of their resistance” (168-69). Several additional passages also cast the states in that role (179, 317-23, 412-13, 582-83). Thus although the Constitution allows these subordinate polities no direct role in the devising or implementing of national policy, they can nevertheless serve as organs of “that original right of self-defense which is paramount to all positive forms of government” (178-79). And it is specifically the status of the states as partially sovereign entities that will render them formidable at the head of a necessary popular rebellion, Publius believes. He points out that the states, possessing “all the organs of civil power and the confidence of the people, … can at once adopt a regular plan of opposition, in which they can combine all the resources of the community” (107-8, 180). If corporate state action is indeed essential for the preservation of American freedom, we have an argument for federalism, it would appear.

Unfortunately for the anticonsolidationist interpretation of The Federalist, however, Publius plainly does not believe this. He unequivocally and at length contend that the danger of a national military despotism is so remote as to be unthinkable, even without considering the possible role of the states. He quite ridicules the idea that “every man, the instant he took his seat in the national senate or house of representatives, would commence a traitor to his constituents,” or that a conspiracy against popular liberties “would be perserved in and transmitted along, through all the successive variations in the representative body, which biennial elections would naturally produce.” Again, he scornfully dismisses the fears of a military coup by the officials of the national government as “more like the incoherent dreams of a delirious jealousy, or the misjudged exaggerations of a counterfeit zeal, than like the sober apprehensions of genuine patriotism” (169, 321). Publius is confident that the federal House of Representatives will embody the popular will. Should the system of representation break down, the separation of powers will provide an additional line of defense. The actual need for state insurrections appears most problematical.

In summary, therefore, according to Publius's own statement of the case, the federal system will provide a pointless defense against two unlikely perils as the meager return for a real, concrete risk of the disruption of the union by the states. As a justification for federalism, this is remarkably unpersuasive. Nor is it plausible to suggest that Publius simply values this small increment of protection against national tyranny more than he does the practical inconvenience involved. Of all political writers, few have been less willing than Publius to endure actual harm for the sake of a merely theoretical good. He scorns “refinements, which owe their origin to a zeal for liberty more ardent than enlightened” (164). He is definitely not one to hamper the national authorities for no good reason, yet that plainly seems to be the effect of federalism. His argument for this arrangement is not merely unconvincing, it is also decidedly out of character.

Indeed, Publius shows a marked lack of enthusiasm for the federal features of the proposed Constitution. For example, he never finds anything good to say about state equality in the Senate: his most positive comment is that in practice this provision may not be as harmful as it appears in theory, and he declares that state equality “contradicts that fundamental maxim of republican government, which requires that the sense of the majority should prevail” (417, 139). He is slightly more favorable concerning the election of senators by the state legislatures, since these bodies will at least be composed of relatively well-informed persons and so will probably make capable choices. But he mentions no advantage to involving the states in their corporate capacities in this process. In fact, he regards as an “inconvenience” and an “evil” the fact that “State Legislatures, by forbearing the appointment of Senators, may destroy the national Government” (433, 400-401). The only federal aspect of the new plan that he unequivocally approves is the state-by-state vote of the electoral college (458-59). And here the virtue acclaimed is rather dispersion than federalism. Publius never applauds the participation of the state government as such in the presidential election process.

It is a sign of Publius's lack of real interest in federalism that there is no paper devoted to a general theoretical statement of the notion. Critics who see pluralism as the principal conception of The Federalist point to No. 10, those who prefer to emphasize the separation of powers and checks and balances underscore No. 51, and the nationalists stress No. 2, but where is the great essay on federalism? No. 9 and No. 39 try to define federalism and show how it is a major feature of the Constitution, but their definitions are not consistent, and neither these nor any other of the Federalist papers presents the concept in a systematic and comprehensive fashion or states its advantages over a unitary system in an organized and complete way. The rationale for federalism can only be collected from scattered references in various essays. If this were really the main theme of the work, one suspects that the authors would have made it easier for us to grasp.

Finally, there is a significant omission in The Federalist. The most important argument for the American federal system is the one put forward by Morley in Freedom and Federalism: “the federal form was historically ordained, by the fact that the original thirteen colonies … had … developed widely differing political and social customs.” Our federalism is a safeguard for these diverse regional mores.3 Indeed, this is the only real justification for leaving sovereign power in the hands of subnational units—that they have some unique values and interests which only their own residents can appreciate and be trusted to defend. This argument, however, is not to be found in the Federalist papers. Although Publius recognizes the existence of much regional variation among our people, he never presents this variation as worthy of political expression. To Publius, our regional differences are to be brushed under the carpet for the present and hopefully reduced by assimilation in the future. They are not seen as positive goods to be preserved by the decentralization of power.

The argument based on diverse social custom has a superficial similarity to one of the arguments Publius does use, the advantage of local administration, but these are not really the same. Local administration is advocated in The Federalist not as a means of preserving distinctive provincial usages, but simply as a convenient way to dispose of trivial matters that do not affect the general good and that require a knowledge of petty circumstances beneath the attention of the national rulers. Thus the “supervision of agriculture” is declared by Publius to be a naturally local function because it has no bearing on the welfare of the country as a whole; Publius never suggests that the states possess intrinsically different ideals concerning agriculture, or anything else, that deserve to be upheld against the intrusion of uniform national values (106). With respect to the prevention of federal despotism, Publius only regards the states as instruments of the whole people, never as a protection for minorities against the majority.

The argument of The Federalist, therefore, can be described as a clashing mixture of nationalism and federalism, with the former much predominating. Publius's general outlook, his practical maxims of politics, and his analysis of the situation of America are basically nationalistic. The plan presented is partly federal, but these features are neither emphasized nor well justified. Thus the text of this treatise accurately mirrors the real political inclinations of Hamilton, Madison, and Jay in 1787-88. They were, in truth, men of nationalistic principles obliged to support a federal proposal that none of them liked wholeheartedly. All had suggested solutions to the American governmental crisis that were markedly less solicitous of the states than the design adopted at Philadelphia. The Publii would have preferred to deprive the provinces of all sovereignty. Because this could not be done, they supported the Constitution as better than nothing. Once they had accepted this federal scheme, of course, they rightly insisted on its harmlessness to the states. They genuinely believed—or rather feared—that under the proposed regime these entities would retain enough clout to disrupt the intentions, good or bad, of the country's rulers.

The federalistic suggestions of Publius are clearly intrusive elements in his overall philosophy. Indeed, it is remarkable that he pays as little lip service as he does to this aspect of the plan. His portrayal of the states is consistently unfavorable, and he is generally lukewarm or even critical concerning the federal features of the Constitution. He gives little evidence of believing that the superfluous protection the states offer against national despotism, under the Constitution, really outweighs their capacity for mischief. His vaunted theory of federalism is actually only the ex post facto rationalization of a political compromise. His true nationalistic bent seems evident.

Less need be said here about Madison's interest-group theory, because it is not especially contradictory to the nationalist outlook, superficial appearances notwithstanding. Madison does say that an extensive American polity will include a variety of special interests and that the multiplicity of these will tend to have a stabilizing effect on the system as a whole. Yet to elevate this insight, however striking it may be, into Publius's main point is a gross distortion, plausible only to those who have read No. 10 but none of the other papers. In general, Publius feels that the chief merit of the Constitution is that it will bind us together, not that it will multiply the number of our divisions. Since factions we must have, he thinks it best that they be numerous and weak, but this is hardly the leading idea of The Federalist.

Madison, it must be recalled, is not a pluralist in the present-day sense. He dislikes the activity of organized special-interest groups, and he believes that superficial contradictions among the people are reconcilable in terms of the welfare of the nation as a whole. The Publii do not perceive the legislative process as a matter of bargain and compromise between various partial interests, but as an affair of discussion and eventual agreement among wise and just statesmen on a comprehensive program to advance the common good. Balitzer's eccentric contention notwithstanding, Madison would not approve of PACs.4

Publius's recognition of American diversity does not clash with his nationalism, although this might seem to be the case at first glance. The authors, including Madison, clearly believe, and state on several occasions, that national commonalities—language, custom, territory, political values, and so forth—are the proper basis for a government. The renowned thesis of No. 10 simply amounts to the proposition that no population, however homogeneous, can possibly be alike in every respect and that it is better to have many minor divisions instead of a few great ones. Madison never says that it is intrinsically bad for people to agree as much as possible, only that it is “impracticable” for “every citizen” to have “the same opinions, the same passions, and the same interests.” In fact, he points out certain disadvantages to pluralism. “This variety of interests … may have a salutary influence on the administration of the Government when formed; yet every one must be sensible of the contrary influence which must have been experienced in the task of forming it” (58, 237-38). Hamilton also notes the difficulty of drafting a Constitution for a rather pluralistic nation (591). If Publius thinks it is difficult to fashion a regime for a diversified people, then he must believe it is relatively easy to create one for a people not diversified. Thus Publius accepts the central insight of the political theory of the nation-state.

In connection with pluralism, we should note Beard's contention that the authors of The Federalist were really concerned with the safeguarding of propertied interests. This is also the opinion of Dietze, who says that “national power was for Hamilton by no means an end in itself, but was a mere means for securing the happiness of the individual, of which the protection of property constituted a prominent part.”5 It is true that Publius sees the proposed regime providing “additional security … to republican government, to liberty, and to property” (587). Yet the protection of private interests or property rights per se does not appear to be his main concern, as a matter of fact. Publius is far more solicitous to secure the vigorous administration of the public affairs of the American community than to enlarge the boundaries of individual autonomy. Publius is both a staunch nationalist and a classical liberal, and the former position seems at least as basic as the latter.

Publius's attitude is not that of the bourgeois individualist who merely wants to be left alone by the government. He is rather the semiaristocratic leader of society who seeks to order the affairs of the community for the common good. His concern for the rights of property seems to stem more from a belief that commerce serves the nation than from an ideological commitment to abstract individual freedom. Thus, to illustrate, Beard and other critics claim that Publius envisions the Senate as protecting property.6 In fact, The Federalist mentions this consideration just once. No. 62 praises the stability of the proposed Senate and expatiates on the evils of “inconstant government.” “What prudent merchant,” Publius asks, “will hazard his fortunes in any new branch of commerce, when he knows not but that his plans may be rendered unlawful before they can be executed?” (421-22). It is evident that Publius writes here strictly from the standpoint of an intelligent economic manager; he asserts no general right of property owners to be free from public control. Publius expects that the Senate will uphold the long-term welfare of the nation and will consequently be appropriately solicitous of capitalists. But he does not mean to exempt propertied interests from social regulation.

Even Epstein, whose analysis is usually most perceptive, cannot quite rid himself of the presumption that Publius primarily intends to secure the rights of individuals. He notes that Madison, in No. 10 and elsewhere, distinguishes between “justice” and “the public good”—that is, between questions of right and questions of community interest. Of course, Epstein admits, Madison never observes any real conflict between these considerations. It appears that in Publius's view they are really intertwined—that justice can only be obtained if the community is prosperous and well defended, while violations of rights will produce civil discord and will therefore be contrary to the public good. Epstein acknowledges that “this mutual dependence suggests a large degree of harmony between the two objects when they are properly understood.” Yet he still asserts that, at least in No. 10, “justice is given the most emphasis” and that for the Publii the securing of rights is “more fundamental” than practical concerns.7 This conclusion, however, does not seem warranted by the text of The Federalist.

Publius always presumes that the welfare of the nation and the preservation of personal rights inevitably go hand in hand. At no point does he contemplate a choice of one over the other; he plainly thinks they will stand or fall together. A divided and weak polity will not be hospitable to freedom, in this view, whereas abridgements of liberty and justice will undermine the stability and well-being of the country. Were Publius forced to choose between community interest and abstract right, it is by no means obvious that he would select the latter. He observes in No. 2: “Nothing is more certain than the indispensable necessity of Government, and it is equally undeniable, that whenever and however it is instituted, the people must cede to it some of their natural rights, in order to vest it with requisite powers.” In No. 8 he declares: “Safety from external danger is the most powerful director of national conduct. Even the ardent love of liberty will, after a time, give way to its dictates.” He says in No. 51 that factional unrest may justify establishment of a regime “altogether independent of the people” (8, 45, 352). We are aware from other sources that Hamilton and Madison were even willing to see property rights violated for the general good, although they affirm this with apparent reluctance and numerous qualifications.8 Of course, the Publii hold that liberty, safety, and prosperity will be perfectly reconcilable under the new Constitution.

Publius's highly pragmatic attitude towards these issues is most evident in his discussion of a bill of rights in No. 84. He does not deny that individuals possess natural rights, but declares that as a practical matter personal liberties are subordinate to “the general spirit of the people and of the government” (580). In a sense, this is his way of reconciling the liberal and nationalistic viewpoints. Rights exist in theory, he admits, but the will of the nation is controlling in fact.

In summary, Publius is not a federalist, nor a pluralist in the modern sense, nor all that much of a libertarian. It is true that he expects his project of national centralization to occur without prejudice to the right of individuals—indeed, he believes that nationalism and the protection of rights are naturally allied—but the former of these is the distinctive theme of The Federalist, not the latter. We appear to have returned more or less to the opinion of Chief Justice Marshall in Cohens v. Virginia: the argument of Publius is most credible when it calls for the establishment of a powerful central authority, and otherwise suspect. Above all else, Publius is a nationalist.

Notes

  1. Stourzh, Alexander Hamilton, pp. 106-9.

  2. Rousseau, Social Contract, p. 96.

  3. Morley, Freedom and Federalism, p. 10.

  4. Balitzer, Nation of Associations, pp. 29-40, 60.

  5. Dietze, Federalist, p. 341.

  6. Beard, Economic Interpretation of the Constitution, pp. 160-62.

  7. Epstein, Political Theory of the Federalist, pp. 60, 85-86, 108, 163, 214.

  8. See chaps. 2 and 3 of the present study.

Bibliography

Note: The edition of The Federalist edited by Jacob E. Cooke, considered definitive by modern scholars, has served as the basis for this study, and is listed under the names of Hamilton, Madison, and Jay. Other editions of The Federalist are listed under the names of the editors.

Balitzer, Alfred. A Nation of Associations. Washington, DC: American Society of Association Executives and the American Medical Political Action Committee, 1981.

Beard, Charles A. An Economic Interpretation of the Constitution of the United States. New York: Macmillan, 1913.

Dietze, Gottfried. The Federalist: A Classic on Federalism and Free Government. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ.. Press, 1960.

Epstein, David F. The Political Theory of the Federalist. Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1984.

Morley, Felix. Freedom and Federalism. Indianapolis: Liberty Press, 1981.

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. The Social Contract and Discourses. Translated by G.D.H. Cole. New York: E.P. Dutton, 1950.

Stourzh, Gerald. Alexander Hamilton and the Idea of Republican Government. Stanford, CA: Stanford Univ. Press, 1970.

Get Ahead with eNotes

Start your 48-hour free trial to access everything you need to rise to the top of the class. Enjoy expert answers and study guides ad-free and take your learning to the next level.

Get 48 Hours Free Access
Previous

Republicanism

Next

Tyranny and Faction in the Federalist Papers

Loading...