[In this book] I mean to inquire
if, in the civil order, there can be any sure and legitimate rule
of administration, men being taken as they are and laws as they
might be. In this inquiry I shall endeavour always to unite what
right sanctions with what is prescribed by interest, in order
that justice and utility may in no case be divided. . . .
Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains. One thinks
himself the master of others, and still remains a greater slave
than they. . . .
But the social order is a sacred right which is the basis of
all other rights. Nevertheless this right does not come from
nature, and must therefore be founded on conventions. . . .
The most ancient of all societies, and the only one that is
natural, is the family: and even so the children remain attached
to the father only so long as they need him for their
preservation. As soon as this need ceases, the natural bond is
dissolved. . . . If they remain united, they continue so no
longer naturally, but voluntarily; and the family itself is then
maintained only by convention.
This common liberty results from the nature of man. . . .
The family then may be called the first model of political
societies: the ruler corresponds to the father, and the people
to the children; and all, being born free and equal, alienate
their liberty only for their own advantage. The whole difference
is that, in the family, the love of the father for his children
repays him for the care he takes of them, while, in the State,
the pleasure of commanding takes the place of the love which the
chief cannot have for the peoples under him.
...
The strongest is never strong enough to be always the master,
unless he transforms strength into right, and obedience into
duty. . . . Force is a physical power, and I fail to see what
moral effect it can have. To yield to force is an act of
necessity, not of will. . . . [Force] does not create right, and
. . . we are obliged to obey only legitimate powers. . .
Since no man has a natural authority over his fellow, and
force creates no right, we must conclude that conventions form
the basis of all legitimate authority among men.
....
To renounce liberty is to renounce being a man, to surrender
the rights of humanity and even its duties. . . . Such a
renunciation is incompatible with man's nature; to remove all
liberty from his will is to remove all morality from his acts.
Finally, it is an empty and contradictory convention that sets
up, on the one side, absolute authority, and, on the other,
unlimited obedience.
...
Men, from the mere fact that, while they are living in their
primitive independence, they have no mutual relations stable
enough to constitute either the state of peace or the state of
war, cannot be naturally enemies. War is constituted by a
relation between things, and not between persons. . . .
War is then a relation, not between man and man, but between
State and State, and individuals are enemies only accidentally,
not as men, nor even as citizens, but as soldiers; not as
members of their country, but as its defenders.
...
[From] whatever aspect we regard the question, the right of
slavery is null and void, not only as being illegitimate, but
also because it is absurd and meaningless. The words slave
and right contradict each other, and are mutually
exclusive.
...
I suppose men to have reached the point at which the
obstacles in the way of their preservation in the state of
nature show their power of resistance to be greater than the
resources at the disposal of each individual for his maintenance
in that state. That primitive condition can then subsist no
longer; and the human race would perish unless it changed its
manner of existence.
...
The problem is to find a form of association which will
defend and protect with the whole common force the person and
goods of each associate, and in which each, while uniting
himself with all, may still obey himself alone, and remain as
free as before. This is the fundamental problem of which the
social contract provides the solution.
The clauses of the contract . . . may be reduced to one--the
total alienation of each associate, together with all his
rights, to the whole community; for, in the first place, as each
gives himself absolutely, the conditions are the same for all;
and, this being so, no one has any interest in making them
burdensome to others. . . .
[Each] man, in giving himself to all, gives himself to
nobody; and as there is no associate over which he does not
acquire the same right as he yields others over himself, he
gains an equivalent for everything he loses, and an increase of
force for the preservation for what he has.
. . . [The] social compact[, then] . . . reduces itself to
the following terms:
'Each of us puts his person and all his power in common
under the supreme direction of the general will, and, in our
corporate capacity, we receive each member as an indivisible
part of the whole.'
At once, in place of the individual personality of each
contracting party, this act of association creates a corporate
and collective body, composed of as many members as the assembly
contains voters, and receiving from this act its unity, its
common identity, its life, and its will. This public person, so
formed by the union of all other persons, formerly took the name
of city, and now takes that of Republic or body
politic; it is called by its members State when
passive, Sovereign when active, and Power when
compared with others like itself. Those who are associated in it
take collectively the name of people, and severally are
called citizens, as sharing in the sovereign authority,
and subjects, as being under the laws of the State. . . .
This formula shows us that the act of association comprises a
double mutual undertaking between the public and the
individuals, and that each individual, in making a contract, as
we may say, with himself, is bound in a double relation; as a
member of the Sovereign he is bound to the individuals, and as a
member of the State to the Sovereign. . . .
[The] Sovereign, being formed wholly of the individuals who
compose it, neither has nor can have any interest contrary to
theirs; and consequently . . . [the] Sovereign, merely by virtue
of what it is, is always what it should be. . . .
In fact, [however,] each individual, as a man, may have a
particular will contrary or dissimilar to the general will which
he has as a citizen. His particular interest may speak to him
quite differently from the common interest: his absolute and
naturally independent existence may make him look upon what he
owes to the common cause as a gratuitous contribution, the loss
of which will do less harm to others than the payment of it is
burdensome to himself; and, regarding the corporate person which
constitutes the State as a persona ficta, because not a
man, he may wish to enjoy the rights of citizenship without
being ready to fulfill the duties of a subject. The continuance
of such an injustice could not but prove the undoing of the body
politic.
In order then that the social compact may not be an empty
formula, it tacitly includes the undertaking, which alone can
give force to the rest, that whoever refuses to obey the general
will shall be compelled to do so by the whole body. This means
nothing less than that he will be forced to be free, for this is
the condition which, by giving each citizen to his country
secures him against all personal dependence. In this lies the
key to the working of the political machine; this alone
legitimizes civil undertakings, which, without it, would be
absurd, tyrannical, and liable to the most frightful abuses.