CHAPTER LXVI.
POLITICAL DOCTRINES IN SPAIN
My explanation of this matter would be incomplete, were I to leave the following difficulty unresolved: "In Spain, Catholicity has prevailed exclusively, and under it an absolute monarchy was established, a sufficient indication that Catholic doctrines are inimical to political liberty." The great majority of men never look deeply into the real nature of things, nor pay due attention to the true meaning of words. Present them with something in strong relief that will make a vivid impression on their imagination, and they take facts just as they appear at the first glance, thoughtlessly confounding causality with coincidence. It cannot be denied that the empire of the Catholic religion coincided in Spain with the final preponderance of absolute monarchy; but the question is, Was the Catholic religion the true cause of this preponderance? Was it she that overturned the ancient cortes, to establish the throne of absolute monarchs on the ruins of popular institutions?
Before we commence our examination into the cause that destroyed the influence of the nation on public affairs, it may be well to remind the reader that in Denmark, Sweden, and Germany, absolutism was established and upheld in juxtaposition with Protestantism. Hence the argument of coincidence is very little worth, as, owing to the exact identity of circumstances in the two cases, it could just as well be proved that Protestantism leads to absolutism. I will just observe here, that in my endeavors to demonstrate in the foregoing chapters that the pseudo-Reformation tended to the overthrow of political liberty, I have not rested my arguments upon coincidences only, however careful I may have been to point them out to the reader. I have said that Protestantism, by diffusing dissolvent doctrines, had occasioned a necessity for an extension of temporal power; that by destroying the political influence of the clergy and the Popes, it had destroyed the equilibrium between the social classes, left no counterpoise to the throne, and further augmented the power of the monarch, by granting him ecclesiastical supremacy in Protestant countries, and exaggerating his prerogatives in Catholic nations.
But we will dismiss these general considerations, and fix our attention upon Spain. This nation has the misfortune to be one of those that are least known; its history is not properly studied, nor are sound views taken of its present condition. Its troubles, its rebellions, its civil wars, proclaim that it has not yet received its true system of government, which proves that the nation to be governed is but imperfectly understood. Its history is, if possible, still less perfectly understood. The present influence of events already very remote, works secretly and almost imperceptibly; and hence the eye of the observer is satisfied with a superficial view of affairs, and he forms his opinions too hastily – opinions which too often, in consequence, take the place of facts and reality. In treating of the causes that have deprived Spain of her political liberty, almost all authors fix their attention principally or exclusively upon Castile, giving monarchs infinitely more credit for sagacity than the course of events would seem to justify. They generally select the war of the Communeros as their point of view, and, according to certain writers, but for the defeat at Villalar, the liberties of Spain would have been forever secure. I admit that the war of the Communeros affords an excellent point of view for the study of this matter; in fact, the field of Villalar was in some measure witness to the conclusion of the drama. Castile should be regarded as the centre of events; and it is here that the Spanish monarchs gave proof of great sagacity in the manner in which they brought the enterprise to a close. Nevertheless, I do not deem it just to give an exclusive preference to one of these considerations, and it does appear to me that the real state of the question is generally misconceived: effects are taken for causes, accessories for principals.
In my opinion, the ruin of free institutions resulted from the following causes: – 1st, the premature and immoderately extensive development of these institutions; 2dly, the formation of the Spanish nation out of a successive reunion of very heterogeneous parts, all possessing institutions extremely popular; 3dly, the establishment of the centre of power in the middle of the provinces where these forms were most restricted, and where the authority of the crown was the greatest; 4thly, the extreme abundance of wealth, the power and the splendor which the Spanish people saw everywhere around them, and which lulled them to sleep in the arms of prosperity; 5thly, the exclusively military position of the Spanish monarchs, whose armies were everywhere victorious, their military power and prestige being at their height precisely at the critical time when the quarrel had to be decided. I will take a rapid view of these causes, although the nature of this work does not permit me to devote to them the space which the gravity and importance of the subject demand. The reader will pardon me this political digression on account of the close connection existing between this subject and the religious question.
As regards popular forms of government, Spain has been in advance of all monarchical nations. This is an indubitable fact. In Spain, these forms received a premature and extreme development; and this contributed to their ruin, as a child sickens and dies, if, in its tender years, its growth is too rapid, or its intellect too precocious. This active spirit of liberty, this multitude of fueros and of privileges, these impediments everywhere placed in the way of power, checking the rapidity and energy of its action – this great development of the popular element, in its very nature restless and turbulent, existing simultaneously with the wealth, the power, and the pride of the aristocracy, very naturally gave rise to many commotions. Elements so numerous, so various, and so opposite to each other, which, moreover, had not time to be combined so as to form a peaceable and harmonious whole, were not likely to work tranquilly together. Order is the prime necessity of society; it is essential to the growth of the ideas, the manners, and the laws of a nation. Wherever there exists a germ of continual disorder, how deep soever it may have struck its roots, it is sure to be extirpated, or at least crushed, so as no longer to keep public tranquillity in perpetual danger. The municipal and political organization of Spain had this inconvenience, and hence an imperative necessity for its modification. But the ideas and the manners of the time were such, that matters could not be expected to stop at a simple modification. The system of constituencies, which so easily creates numerous assemblies, either to enact new fundamental codes or to reform the old ones, was not then understood as it is in our days; neither were men's ideas at that time so generalized as to place them above all that exclusively and particularly relates to a people, at a point of elevation whence they could no longer observe every petty local object, but had their attention wholly engrossed by mankind, society, the nation, or the government. It was not so at that time: a charter of liberty granted by a king to a city or a town; an immunity wrested from a feudal lord by his armed vassals; some privilege obtained in reward of warlike achievements, or sometimes granted as a recompense for the bravery of a man's ancestors; a concession to the cortes, made by the monarch in exchange for the grant of a contribution, or, as it was then termed, of a service, – a law or custom, the antiquity of which lay hidden in the depths of the past, or confounded with the infancy of monarchy: such, to give a few instances, were the titles of which they were proud, and which they maintained with jealous ardor.
Liberty now-a-days is more vague, and sometimes less positive, owing to the generalization and elevation which men's ideas have assumed; but then it is far less liable to destruction. Speaking a language well understood by the people, and appearing as the common cause of all nations, it awakens universal sympathies, and is in a position to found more extensive associations as a guarantee against the attacks of power. The words liberty, equality, rights of man, intervention of the people in public affairs, ministerial responsibility, public opinion, liberty of the press, toleration, and other similar ones, do undoubtedly contain a great diversity of meanings, which it would be difficult to determine and to classify when we come to make a specific application of them; and yet these words present to the mind certain ideas which, although complicated and confused, have a false appearance of clearness and simplicity. On the other hand, these words represent certain striking objects that dazzle the mind by their vivid and flattering colors, and hence they cannot be uttered without exciting a lively interest; they are understood by the masses, and hence every self-constituted champion of the ideas they convey is at once regarded as a defender of the rights of all mankind. But imagine yourself living among the people of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and your position will be found very different. Take for your subject the franchises of Catalonia or of Castile, and address yourself to the Aragonese, who were so intractable on the subject of their fueros, and you will produce no effect – will not succeed in awakening either their zeal or their interest; a charter that does not contain the name of one of their towns or cities is, in their eyes, a thing of no importance, and foreign to their wishes. This inconvenience, originating in the ideas of the times, which were naturally confined to local circumstances, became very great in Spain, where, under the same sceptre, there was formed an amalgamation of people differing most widely in their manners, in their municipal and political organization, and divided, moreover, by rivalries and animosities. In such a state of things it was comparatively easy to curtail the liberties of one province without giving umbrage to the others, or exciting their apprehensions for their own liberties. If, at the period of the insurrections of the Communeros in Castile against Charles V., there had existed that communication of ideas and sentiments, and those lively sympathies, which at the present time unite people together, the defeat of Villalar would have been a simple defeat and nothing more; the cry of alarm, resounding throughout Aragon and Castile, would certainly have given more trouble to the young and ill-advised monarch. But such was not the case; all the efforts of the people were isolated, and consequently barren of results. The royal power, proceeding upon a fixed and steady plan, was able to beat down piecemeal these scattered forces, and the result was not doubtful. In 1521, Padilla, Bravo, and Maldonado perished on the scaffold; in 1591, D. Diego de Heredia, D. Juan de Luna, and the Justiciary himself, D. Antonio de Lanuza, met the same fate; when, in 1640, the Catalonians rose in insurrection for the defence of their rights, notwithstanding the manifestos they issued to attract supporters, they found no one to assist them. There were then no flying sheets, coming every morning to fix the attention of the people upon all sorts of questions, and to stir up alarm at the least appearance of danger to their liberties. The people, warmly attached to their customs and usages, satisfied with the nominal confirmations which their monarchs were daily giving to their fueros, proud also of the respect shown to their ancient liberties, were little aware that they were confronted by a sagacious adversary, who never resorted to force but to effect a decisive blow, yet constantly held his powerful arm ready to crush them. An attentive study of the history of Spain will show that the concentration of the whole governing power in the hands of the monarch, to the exclusion, as far as was possible, of popular influence, dates from the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella. Nor is this surprising; for there was then a greater necessity for such a course, and it could be more easily adopted. There was a greater necessity; for, from that time, the action of government began to extend from one common center over the whole of Spain, the various portions of which differed so widely in their laws, their manners, and their customs; hence the central action naturally felt more sensibly the embarrassment occasioned by so great a diversity of cortes, of municipalities, of codes, and of privileges; and, as every government wishes its action to be rapid and efficacious, the idea of simplifying, uniting, and centralizing their power naturally took possession of the kings of Spain. It is, in fact, easy to understand that a monarch at the head of numerous armies, with magnificent fleets at his disposal, who had, on a hundred occasions, humbled his most powerful foes, and won the respect of foreign nations, would not like to be continually going to preside over the cortes in Castile, in Aragon, in Valencia, and in Catalonia. It would undoubtedly cost him dear to be constantly repeating the oath binding him to protect the rights and liberties of his subjects, and listening to the perpetual strain re-echoed in his ears by the procuradores of Castile, and the brazos of Aragon, Valencia, and Catalonia. It was hard for him to be obliged humbly to solicit from the cortes assistance for the expenses of the state, and particularly for almost continual wars. If he submitted to this, it was only from the dread of those resolute men, real lions in the battle-field when fighting in defence of their religion, their country, and their king, and who would have fought with no less intrepidity in their streets and houses, had an attempt been made to despoil them of those rights and franchises which they inherited from their forefathers.
The union of the crowns of Aragon and Castile alone so far prepared the way for the ruin of popular institutions, that it followed almost necessarily. From that time, in fact, the throne had obtained too great a preponderance for the fueros of the kingdoms recently united to oppose it with success. To imagine the existence at that period of a political power capable of resisting the crown, we must suppose all the assemblies held from time to time in the different kingdoms under the name of cortes united into one grand national representative body, with a power analogous to that of the king; we must suppose this central assembly actuated by a zeal equal to that of the ancient assemblies for the preservation of their fueros and privileges, ready to sacrifice all their rivalries to the public good, and advancing towards their object with a firm step, in one compact mass, and never giving an advantage to their adversary. In other words, we must suppose what was utterly impossible at that period; impossible, on account of the ideas, the habits, and the rivalries of the people; impossible, at a time when the people were incapable of comprehending the question in so lofty a sense; impossible, owing to the resistance which it would have met with from the monarchs; to the embarrassment and complication, arising from the municipal, social, and political organization. In a word, it was something impossible to effect or even to conceive.
Every circumstance was in favor of the aggrandizement of the royal power. The monarch being no longer merely king of Aragon or of Castile, but of Spain, the ancient kingdoms dwindled into insignificance before the majesty and the splendor of the throne, and sank by degrees to the rank which alone suited them, that of provinces. From that moment the action of the monarch became more extensive and complicated, and consequently he could not come so frequently into contact with his vassals. The celebration of the cortes in each of the recently united kingdoms, would have occasioned long delays; for the king was oftentimes engaged at another part of the empire. When sedition was to be chastised, abuses to be checked, or excesses to be repressed, he was no longer obliged to have recourse to the forces of the particular kingdom in which these things occurred, as he could employ the arms of Castile to subdue insurrection in the kingdom of Aragon, and those of Aragon to put down the rebels of Castile. Grenada lay at his feet; Italy yielded to one of his victorious captains; in his fleet was Columbus, who had just discovered a new world; under these circumstances, it was in vain to listen for the murmurs of the cortes and of ayuntamientos, – these were no longer heard, they had totally disappeared.
Had the national manners had a peaceable tendency, had not Spain been habituated to war, democratic institutions would probably have been preserved with less difficulty. Had the attention of the people been fixed exclusively upon their municipal and political affairs, they would have better understood their real interests; kings themselves would not have been so ready to rush into war, and the throne would in some degree have lost the prestige it obtained from the splendor and success of its armies; the administration would not have been imbued with that blunt harshness for which military habits are always more or less remarkable; and the ancient fueros would thus have more easily retained some consideration. But precisely at that period Spain was the most warlike nation in the world; it was in its element on the battle-field; seven centuries of combats had made it a nation of soldiers. Its recent victories over the Moors; the exploits of its armies in Italy; the discoveries of Columbus; every thing, in fine, contributed to its exaltation, and to inspire it with that spirit of chivalry which, for so long a time, was one of its distinguishing characteristics. It was necessary for the king to be a captain; and he was certain to captivate the minds of Spaniards, so long as he won renown by brilliant feats of arms. Now, arms are the bane of popular institutions. After a victory on the field of battle, the order and discipline of the camp are usually transferred to the city.
From the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, the throne rose to such a height of power that liberal institutions were almost lost sight of. The people and the grandees, it is true, reappeared upon the scene after the death of Isabella; but this was entirely owing to the misunderstanding between Ferdinand the Catholic and Philip le Bel, which impaired the unity, and consequently the strength of the throne; and hence, as soon as these circumstances disappeared, the throne again resumed its full preponderance, and that not only during the last days of Ferdinand, but even under the regency of Ximenes. The men of Castile, exasperated by the excesses of the Flemish, and encouraged perhaps by the hope, that the rule of a young monarch would be, as it usually is, only feeble, again raised their voices; their remonstrances and complaints speedily ended in commotions and in open insurrection. Notwithstanding many circumstances highly favorable to the Communeros, and the probability that their conduct would be followed by all the provinces of the monarchy, we find that the insurrection, although considerable, did not assume either the importance or extent of a national movement; a great portion of the Peninsula preserved a strict neutrality, and the rest inclined to the cause of monarchy. If I am not mistaken, this fact indicates that the throne had already obtained an immense prestige, and was regarded as the highest and most powerful institution. The entire reign of Charles V. was extremely well calculated to perfect this beginning. Commenced under the auspices of the battle of Villalar, this reign continued through an uninterrupted series of wars, in which the treasures and the blood of Spain were spent with incredible profusion in all the countries of Europe, Africa, and America. The nation was not allowed time even to think of its affairs: almost always deprived of the presence of its king, it had become a province at the disposal of the Emperor of Germany, the ruler of Europe. True, the cortes of 1538 boldly gave Charles a severe lecture instead of the succor he demanded. But it was already too late; the clergy and the nobility were expelled from the cortes, and the representation of Castile was restricted for the future to the procuradores alone; that is, it was doomed to be no more than the shadow of what it had been – a mere instrument of the royal will.
Much has been said against Philip II.; but, in my opinion, this monarch merely kept his place, and allowed things to take their natural course. The crisis was already past; the question already decided; the Spanish nation could not regain its lost influence, save by the regenerating action of centuries. Still, we must not imagine that absolute power was so fully and completely established as to leave not a vestige of ancient liberty; but this liberty could do nothing from its asylum in Aragon and Catalonia against the giant that held it in check from the midst of a country entirely subject to his sway, from the capital of Castile. The monarchs might probably, by one bold and heavy blow, have struck down every thing that opposed them; but whatever probabilities of success they had in the vast means at their disposal, they were very careful not to make the attempt, but left the inhabitants of Navarre, the subjects of the crown of Aragon, in the tranquil enjoyment of their franchises, rights, and privileges. At the same time, they were careful to prevent the contagion spreading to the other provinces. By means of partial attacks, and more especially by leading the people to allow their ancient liberties to fall into desuetude, they gradually diminished their zeal for them, and insensibly brought them to a habit of tamely bending under the action of a central power.39