The Consequences of Hostilities Between the States



From the New York Packet.



Tuesday, November 20, 1787.



HAMILTON





To the People of the State of New York:



Assuming it therefore as an established truth that the several States,

in case of disunion, or such combinations of them as might happen to be

formed out of the wreck of the general Confederacy, would be subject to

those vicissitudes of peace and war, of friendship and enmity, with

each other, which have fallen to the lot of all neighboring nations not

united under one government, let us enter into a concise detail of some

of the consequences that would attend such a situation.



War between the States, in the first period of their separate

existence, would be accompanied with much greater distresses than it

commonly is in those countries where regular military establishments

have long obtained. The disciplined armies always kept on foot on the

continent of Europe, though they bear a malignant aspect to liberty and

economy, have, notwithstanding, been productive of the signal advantage

of rendering sudden conquests impracticable, and of preventing that

rapid desolation which used to mark the progress of war prior to their

introduction. The art of fortification has contributed to the same

ends. The nations of Europe are encircled with chains of fortified

places, which mutually obstruct invasion. Campaigns are wasted in

reducing two or three frontier garrisons, to gain admittance into an

enemy’s country. Similar impediments occur at every step, to exhaust

the strength and delay the progress of an invader. Formerly, an

invading army would penetrate into the heart of a neighboring country

almost as soon as intelligence of its approach could be received; but

now a comparatively small force of disciplined troops, acting on the

defensive, with the aid of posts, is able to impede, and finally to

frustrate, the enterprises of one much more considerable. The history

of war, in that quarter of the globe, is no longer a history of nations

subdued and empires overturned, but of towns taken and retaken; of

battles that decide nothing; of retreats more beneficial than

victories; of much effort and little acquisition.



In this country the scene would be altogether reversed. The jealousy of

military establishments would postpone them as long as possible. The

want of fortifications, leaving the frontiers of one state open to

another, would facilitate inroads. The populous States would, with

little difficulty, overrun their less populous neighbors. Conquests

would be as easy to be made as difficult to be retained. War,

therefore, would be desultory and predatory. PLUNDER and devastation

ever march in the train of irregulars. The calamities of individuals

would make the principal figure in the events which would characterize

our military exploits.



This picture is not too highly wrought; though, I confess, it would not

long remain a just one. 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. The violent destruction

of life and property incident to war, the continual effort and alarm

attendant on a state of continual danger, will compel nations the most

attached to liberty to resort for repose and security to institutions

which have a tendency to destroy their civil and political rights. To

be more safe, they at length become willing to run the risk of being

less free.



The institutions chiefly alluded to are STANDING ARMIES and the

correspondent appendages of military establishments. Standing armies,

it is said, are not provided against in the new Constitution; and it is

therefore inferred that they may exist under it.[1] Their existence,

however, from the very terms of the proposition, is, at most,

problematical and uncertain. But standing armies, it may be replied,

must inevitably result from a dissolution of the Confederacy. Frequent

war and constant apprehension, which require a state of as constant

preparation, will infallibly produce them. The weaker States or

confederacies would first have recourse to them, to put themselves upon

an equality with their more potent neighbors. They would endeavor to

supply the inferiority of population and resources by a more regular

and effective system of defense, by disciplined troops, and by

fortifications. They would, at the same time, be necessitated to

strengthen the executive arm of government, in doing which their

constitutions would acquire a progressive direction toward monarchy. It

is of the nature of war to increase the executive at the expense of the

legislative authority.



The expedients which have been mentioned would soon give the States or

confederacies that made use of them a superiority over their neighbors.

Small states, or states of less natural strength, under vigorous

governments, and with the assistance of disciplined armies, have often

triumphed over large states, or states of greater natural strength,

which have been destitute of these advantages. Neither the pride nor

the safety of the more important States or confederacies would permit

them long to submit to this mortifying and adventitious superiority.

They would quickly resort to means similar to those by which it had

been effected, to reinstate themselves in their lost pre-eminence.

Thus, we should, in a little time, see established in every part of

this country the same engines of despotism which have been the scourge

of the Old World. This, at least, would be the natural course of

things; and our reasonings will be the more likely to be just, in

proportion as they are accommodated to this standard.



These are not vague inferences drawn from supposed or speculative

defects in a Constitution, the whole power of which is lodged in the

hands of a people, or their representatives and delegates, but they are

solid conclusions, drawn from the natural and necessary progress of

human affairs.



It may, perhaps, be asked, by way of objection to this, why did not

standing armies spring up out of the contentions which so often

distracted the ancient republics of Greece? Different answers, equally

satisfactory, may be given to this question. The industrious habits of

the people of the present day, absorbed in the pursuits of gain, and

devoted to the improvements of agriculture and commerce, are

incompatible with the condition of a nation of soldiers, which was the

true condition of the people of those republics. The means of revenue,

which have been so greatly multiplied by the increase of gold and

silver and of the arts of industry, and the science of finance, which

is the offspring of modern times, concurring with the habits of

nations, have produced an entire revolution in the system of war, and

have rendered disciplined armies, distinct from the body of the

citizens, the inseparable companions of frequent hostility.



There is a wide difference, also, between military establishments in a

country seldom exposed by its situation to internal invasions, and in

one which is often subject to them, and always apprehensive of them.

The rulers of the former can have a good pretext, if they are even so

inclined, to keep on foot armies so numerous as must of necessity be

maintained in the latter. These armies being, in the first case,

rarely, if at all, called into activity for interior defense, the

people are in no danger of being broken to military subordination. The

laws are not accustomed to relaxations, in favor of military

exigencies; the civil state remains in full vigor, neither corrupted,

nor confounded with the principles or propensities of the other state.

The smallness of the army renders the natural strength of the community

an over-match for it; and the citizens, not habituated to look up to

the military power for protection, or to submit to its oppressions,

neither love nor fear the soldiery; they view them with a spirit of

jealous acquiescence in a necessary evil, and stand ready to resist a

power which they suppose may be exerted to the prejudice of their

rights. The army under such circumstances may usefully aid the

magistrate to suppress a small faction, or an occasional mob, or

insurrection; but it will be unable to enforce encroachments against

the united efforts of the great body of the people.



In a country in the predicament last described, the contrary of all

this happens. The perpetual menacings of danger oblige the government

to be always prepared to repel it; its armies must be numerous enough

for instant defense. The continual necessity for their services

enhances the importance of the soldier, and proportionably degrades the

condition of the citizen. The military state becomes elevated above the

civil. The inhabitants of territories, often the theatre of war, are

unavoidably subjected to frequent infringements on their rights, which

serve to weaken their sense of those rights; and by degrees the people

are brought to consider the soldiery not only as their protectors, but

as their superiors. The transition from this disposition to that of

considering them masters, is neither remote nor difficult; but it is

very difficult to prevail upon a people under such impressions, to make

a bold or effectual resistance to usurpations supported by the military

power.



The kingdom of Great Britain falls within the first description. An

insular situation, and a powerful marine, guarding it in a great

measure against the possibility of foreign invasion, supersede the

necessity of a numerous army within the kingdom. A sufficient force to

make head against a sudden descent, till the militia could have time to

rally and embody, is all that has been deemed requisite. No motive of

national policy has demanded, nor would public opinion have tolerated,

a larger number of troops upon its domestic establishment. There has

been, for a long time past, little room for the operation of the other

causes, which have been enumerated as the consequences of internal war.

This peculiar felicity of situation has, in a great degree, contributed

to preserve the liberty which that country to this day enjoys, in spite

of the prevalent venality and corruption. If, on the contrary, Britain

had been situated on the continent, and had been compelled, as she

would have been, by that situation, to make her military establishments

at home coextensive with those of the other great powers of Europe,

she, like them, would in all probability be, at this day, a victim to

the absolute power of a single man. ’T is possible, though not easy,

that the people of that island may be enslaved from other causes; but

it cannot be by the prowess of an army so inconsiderable as that which

has been usually kept up within the kingdom.



If we are wise enough to preserve the Union we may for ages enjoy an

advantage similar to that of an insulated situation. Europe is at a

great distance from us. Her colonies in our vicinity will be likely to

continue too much disproportioned in strength to be able to give us any

dangerous annoyance. Extensive military establishments cannot, in this

position, be necessary to our security. But if we should be disunited,

and the integral parts should either remain separated, or, which is

most probable, should be thrown together into two or three

confederacies, we should be, in a short course of time, in the

predicament of the continental powers of Europe —our liberties would be

a prey to the means of defending ourselves against the ambition and

jealousy of each other.



This is an idea not superficial or futile, but solid and weighty. It

deserves the most serious and mature consideration of every prudent and

honest man of whatever party. If such men will make a firm and solemn

pause, and meditate dispassionately on the importance of this

interesting idea; if they will contemplate it in all its attitudes, and

trace it to all its consequences, they will not hesitate to part with

trivial objections to a Constitution, the rejection of which would in

all probability put a final period to the Union. The airy phantoms that

flit before the distempered imaginations of some of its adversaries

would quickly give place to the more substantial forms of dangers,

real, certain, and formidable.



PUBLIUS.



 [1] This objection will be fully examined in its proper place, and it

 will be shown that the only natural precaution which could have been

 taken on this subject has been taken; and a much better one than is to

 be found in any constitution that has been heretofore framed in

 America, most of which contain no guard at all on this subject.









THE FEDERALIST.