Large Countries are Relatively Weaker

Nature has set bounds to the stature of a well-made man.

In every body politic there is a maximum strength which it cannot exceed and which it only loses by increasing in size.

Every extension of the social tie means its relaxation.

Generally, a small State is stronger in proportion than a great one.

A thousand arguments could be advanced in favour of this principle.

First, long distances make administration more difficult, just as a weight becomes heavier at the end of a longer lever.

Administration therefore becomes more and more burdensome as the distance grows greater; for, in the first place, each city has its own, which is paid for by the people: each district its own, still paid for by the people: then comes each province, and then the great governments, satrapies, and vice-royalties, always costing more the higher you go, and always at the expense of the unfortunate people.

Last of all comes the supreme administration, which eclipses all the rest.

All these overcharges are a continual drain upon the subjects; so far from being better governed by all these different orders, they are worse governed than if there were only a single authority over them.

In the meantime, there scarce remain resources enough to meet emergencies; and, when recourse must be had to these, the State is always on the eve of destruction.

The government has less vigour and promptitude for securing the observance of the laws, preventing nuisances, correcting abuses, and guarding against seditious undertakings begun in distant places.

The people has less affection for its rulers, whom it never sees.

The same laws cannot suit so many diverse provinces with different customs, situated in the most various climates, and incapable of enduring a uniform government.

Different laws lead only to trouble and confusion among peoples which, living under the same rulers and in constant communication one with another, intermingle and intermarry, and, coming under the sway of new customs, never know if they can call their very patrimony their own.

Talent is buried, virtue unknown and vice unpunished, among such a multitude of men who do not know one another, gathered together in one place at the seat of the central administration.

The leaders, overwhelmed with business, see nothing for themselves; the State is governed by clerks.

Finally, the measures which have to be taken to, maintain the general authority, which all these distant officials wish to escape or to impose upon, absorb all the energy of the public, so that there is none left for the happiness of the people.

There is hardly enough to defend it when need arises, and thus a body which is too big for its constitution gives way and falls crushed under its own weight.

The State must assure itself a safe foundation, if it is to have stability, and to be able to resist the shocks it cannot help experiencing, as well as the efforts it will be forced to make for its maintenance;

All peoples have a kind of centrifugal force that makes them:

• continually act against others
• tend to aggrandise themselves at their neighbours’ expense, like the vortices of Descartes.

Thus the weak run the risk of being soon swallowed up.

The statesman should strike a balance between expansion and contraction to preserve the State.

The reasons for expansion are external and relative. The reasons for contraction are internal and absolute.

The reasons for expansion should be subordinate to the reasons for contraction.

A strong and healthy constitution is the first thing to look for.

It is better to count on the vigour which comes of good government than on the resources a great territory furnishes.

Some States have conquests entered into their very constitution. They were forced to expand ceaselessly to maintain themselves.

They congratulated themselves greatly on this fortunate necessity. But they soon realized the limits of their greatness during their inevitable fall.