For all the perhaps unintended
advice that peppers Hamilton’s Federalist No. 1, it contains as well some
arguments that are not so well-founded in logic, and certain allusions to the
nationalist ambitions of its author that are less well-considered. In an
attempt to impress upon his readers the gravity of the debate surrounding the
Constitution, and make them aware of what he considered were the stakes of
success and failure, Hamilton argued that without a more stable, more
centralized government the United States would surely drift apart into a
collection of warring confederacies. Indeed, he claimed that there were men in
America at that time, implied to be in service of the various state
governments, who would have desire nothing more and were working to actively
defeat the ratification of the Constitution. While he repeatedly referenced
this scenario over the course of the essays that followed Federalist No. 1, and
in truth there was a rash of separatist anxiety among the population of the
United States in the late 1780s, its invocation was more than likely another
attempt by Hamilton to manipulate the terms of the ratification debate in order
to portray his position in a more favourable light.
As well, Federalist No. 1
contains two offhand references to the United States as an empire. Hamilton’s
use of the term is casual, but telling, and in many ways presages some of his
defense-centered ruminations in Federalist No. 24 & 25, and the general
thrust of his careers as an ardent nationalist with military pretensions.
Attempting to understand how he perceived of the United States, particularly in
contrast to how his often-rival and ideological opposite number Thomas
Jefferson described America as an “Empire of Liberty,” reveals a great deal
about the possibilities that members of the Founding Generation imagined for
their country, and the methods by which they would have seen them
achieved.
Along with the state officials
that Hamilton accused in the third paragraph of Federalist No. 1 of wanting to
protect their influence by defeating the Constitution, he also described a
second group who would, “Either hope to aggrandize themselves by the confusions
of their country, or will flatter themselves with fairer prospects of elevation
from the subdivision of the empire into several partial confederacies.” He
repeated this sentiment in the ninth paragraph, where he stated that, “We
already hear it whispered in the private circles of those who oppose the new
Constitution, that the Thirteen States are of too great extent for any general
system, and that we must of necessity, resort to separate confederacies of
distinct portions of the whole.” Above and beyond the threat of secession, that
would plague the United States in the mid-19th century and bring
about perhaps its most catastrophic national crisis, this wholesale dissolution
would mean the end of the Union entirely, and by the presumed consent of its
member states. Though Hamilton was surely exaggerating the extent of the threat
in order to impress on his readers how urgent the need was for ratification,
there was admittedly talk in America of dissolution in the late 1780s.
To what extent these were either
serious discussions or anxious rumours it is difficult to say. That being said,
and without necessarily validating Hamilton’s claim, there are a few points
worth considering. On the one hand, it ought to be remembered that the states
had thrown in their lots together in 1775 because their representatives in
Philadelphia felt that, should Britain successfully violate the rights of one
colony (in this case Massachusetts) there would be nothing standing against
further violations aimed at any or all of the other colonies. This led to the
creation of the Continental Army, the first truly America institution, and the
realization that some degree of coordination was necessary for the war effort
to be carried out successfully. Thus the Union that came into existence under
the Articles of Confederation was a matter of expediency, a practical response
to the problem of having to manage the resources, demands, and manpower of thirteen
different governments during a sustained, European-style conflict. Once the war
was over, the treaty signed and the peace secured, it would not have seemed
unusual for some Americans to begin to question the purpose of the Congress,
the Army, and the handful of other federal institutions that remained. After
all, in 1785, how closely tied would a North Carolina farmer have felt to a New
York merchant? What were their common interests? What would have been the point
of continuing their political association?
To that I would add that many
Americans, like Hamilton’s compatriot James Madison, where familiar with the
works of French Enlightenment philosopher Montesquieu. Specifically, they had
read and came to agree with his assertion that stable republics could only
exist if they were spread over a relatively small geographic area. The core of
this argument, that people that fail to share common interests, concerns or
habits, and who are unable to easily communicate across large distances, would
have trouble forming a government that was transparent, equitable and
representative, would no doubt have seemed quite logical. Each of the colonies
possessed their own political traditions, had different ethnic and religious
compositions, and even engaged in different industries and trades. Though they
all shared a common British heritage, in so far as government and culture were
concerned, upwards of a century of separate existence had mutated and changed
their societies into distinctly Virginian, Pennsylvanian, or Carolinian forms.
Furthermore, Georgia, the
southernmost colony, was approximately 1500 miles away from the northern
reaches of Massachusetts. By comparison, that’s about the same distance from
Georgia to northern Colombia. Today, it would take about twenty-five hours to
drive that distance. I've no doubt that in the late 1780s, such an expanse
would have seemed all but insurmountable to some, when told that both points on
the map were to be represented by the same government. How could such an
administration respond to sudden emergencies if all communications had to
travel by road over these kinds of distances, over mountain passes and on
surfaces that were not always very level well-maintained? How could national
elections be conducted? Where could the nation’s capital be placed that
wouldn't disadvantage one state or another by isolating them from the centre of
power?
Worthwhile questions, all, and no
doubt very much on the mind of the opponents of the Constitution. Nevertheless,
the certainty of Hamilton’s tone ought to be questioned, for he seemed
determined to paint the threat of separation in very black and white terms. In
the ninth paragraph, he started to conclude his argument by stating that,
“Nothing can be more evident, to those who are able to take an enlarged view of
the subject, than the alternative of an adoption of the new Constitution or a
dismemberment of the Union.” Though there were some in America who spoke of
dissolution with legitimate concern, there were as many if not more that were
entirely unconcerned with the state of the federal government, preferred a
continuation of the status quo, or cared only about the safeguarding of their
respective state governments. As to what percentage each group might have
composed of the overall population, I suppose it’s impossible to say. Rest
assured, however, that Hamilton was exaggerating, and that his characterization
of the choice between ratification and rejection of the Constitution was
ultimately intended to frighten people into seeing the wisdom of his words.
In addition to hyperbole,
Hamilton also inserted into Federalist No.1 a certain amount of his own wishful
thinking about the future place the United States might occupy in the world.
Specifically, in the first and third paragraphs he referred to the United
States as an empire. He did so casually, almost offhandedly, but the subtly of
these references belie their importance. As I mentioned previously Hamilton was
something of a pragmatist, and tended to view politics in terms of what was possible
rather than what was ideal. While I think it fair to say that he was a man of
principle, he was not someone for whom an adherence to a rigid ideology or code
of conduct was of the greatest importance. That being said, he was not a man
who sought power for power’s sake. He was a planner; meticulous, at times
manipulative, but always with a definite aim in mind. If he believed that
America was an empire, or deserved to be, it was more than likely because he thought
that the best way for his adopted nation to deal with the problems it faced in
the late 1780s was by adopting some of the forms and functions of the European
empires that had proven themselves so historically successful. No doubt this
was why he advocated for the continuation and strengthening of the Union.
Together, the thirteen states possessed the size, resources and manpower to
rival any number of the 18th-century’s Great Powers, and in
particular Spain and Britain.
These were the nations that the
United States shared the North American continent with in the late 18th
century, and the powers that Hamilton singled out in Federalist No. 24 & 25
as among the greatest threats his country faced. These two later essays, published
in December, 1787, sought to address the powers that the Constitution granted
the Executive and the Congress for the purposes of securing the common defence
of the United States. Though the Revolutionary War was over, Hamilton reasoned
that America was a rising power in the world and would need to be able to
defend itself against the harassment of nations who felt threatened by its
republican ideals, and the energy and ingenuity of its people. To that end, he
wrote in No. 24 that,
“In proportion to our increase in
strength, it is probable, nay, it may be said certain, that Britain and Spain
would augment their military establishments in our neighbourhood. If we should
not be willing to be exposed, in a naked and defenceless condition, to their
insults and encroachments, we should find it expedient to increase our frontier
garrisons, in some ratio to the force by which our Western settlements might be
annoyed.”
He elaborated on this idea in No.
25, and further stated that,
“The territories of Britain, Spain,
and of the Indian nations in our neighbourhood, do not border on particular
States, but encircle the Union from Maine to Georgia. The
danger, though in different degrees, is therefore common. And the means of
guarding against it ought, in like manner, to be the objects of common councils
and of a common treasury.”
When taken together, Federalist No.
1, 24 & 25 perhaps paint a clearer picture of Hamilton’s vision of an
American empire than any one of them alone. Whether concerned for the integrity
of the fragile Union, or ambitious that it might one day rival the world’s
Great Powers, Hamilton seemed to conceive of the American Empire in distinctly
orthodox terms. When discussing the need for stronger defences, he spoke of
“military establishments,” and “frontier garrisons.” And to this he added the
need for “common councils,” and perhaps most tellingly, “a common treasury.”
This was the vocabulary of European empire, and in particular of the British
Empire.
Britain had, after all, achieved
a great deal of success in its diplomatic and military dealings in the 17th
and 18th centuries thanks in no small part to its robust military
establishments (its Army and Navy) and its strong national bank. Arguably a
child of empire, who had been born in one frontier outpost and relocated to
another, Hamilton was abundantly familiar with Great Power politics.
Furthermore, as a member of Washington’s general staff he had become intimately
acquainted with military administration, and as a member of Congress with national
finance. By bringing these strands together, he sought to create a nation in
the imperial model, but of a distinctly American character. It would be a
republican empire, most assuredly, but far from a radical one.
Indeed, the call for a radical
American Empire was taken up by Hamilton’s frequent rival, Thomas Jefferson.
I’d like to end this discussion with a brief outline of his “Empire of
Liberty,” for the sake of comparison.
In a 1780 letter Jefferson wrote
to George Rogers Clark, a soldier and frontiersman, he said, “We shall form to
the American union a barrier against the dangerous extension of the British
Province of Canada and add to the Empire of liberty an extensive and
fertile Country thereby converting dangerous Enemies into valuable friends.”
Like Hamilton, he viewed the British presence in North America as a threat to
America’s security, but his use of the term empire carried a different
inflection than that of his New York rival. Rather than the mechanisms of state
that Hamilton desired America to possess, such as armies, a treasury system,
frontier outposts, and perhaps even colonies at some later date, Jefferson
seemed to use the term empire to refer to an extensive geographic area occupied
by a people sharing common goals, common sentiments, and a common ideology. It
was to be an empire of ideas, of the Enlightenment, that could help roll back
the scourge of “barbarism” and promote natural rights, free trade, and reason.
Contrary to Hamilton’s conception the Empire of Liberty was not necessarily to
be expressed as a traditional state. Indeed, rather than advocate the unity
that Hamilton hoped would provide the resources and manpower necessary to
protect and expand the United States, Jefferson once expressed a rather casual
indifference as to whether America remained whole or not.
In an 1804 letter to English
theologian and philosopher Joseph Priestly, Jefferson wrote that the Empire of
Liberty was not necessarily territorially unified, and, “Whether we remain in
one confederacy, or form Atlantic and Mississippi confederacies, I believe not
very important to the happiness of either part.” Few things, I'm sure, would
have seemed more abhorrent to Hamilton. Whether Jefferson truly believed it or
not is difficult to say, as at other times in his career he seemed quite
concerned with the integrity of the United States. Nevertheless he wrote the
words, and for a moment, at least, must have felt them worthy enough to
communicate. That Jefferson also did more to push back European encroachment
and expand the territory of the United States than Hamilton was ever capable
further complicates the relationship between their ostensibly opposing visions
of American empire. Hamilton, the expansionist, did not add one acre to the
territory of the Union he so ardently advocated. And Jefferson, the
philosopher, personally signed into law the single greatest expansion of
territory to the United States that it has ever seen with the Louisiana
Purchase of 1803. It’s something of a paradox, and one not uncommon to the
early American experience.
As I've written previously, the
early history of the United States is one of great uncertainty and great
possibility. Opposing visions of the nation’s purpose and future created
violent clashes among their respective supporters, coalesced around an issue or
event, and then diverged again and resumed their adversarial relationship. The
tone of government swung violently from one direction to another; from a
European-style hierarchical state, to a limited, laissez faire, agricultural
republic, all at the hands of the feuding founders. As one of the most central
among those early and influential voices, Alexander Hamilton is eminently
deserving of attention and recognition. For all his flaws he was a patriot, and
his vision of America, as at least partially expressed in Federalist No. 1, is
as valid as that of any of his contemporaries.
But don’t take my word for it: http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Federalist_Papers/No._1
And for good measure, Federalist
No. 24: http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Federalist/24
And 25: http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Federalist/25
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