Excavations


... nothing is more essential to public interest than the preservation of public liberty.

- David Hume



Wednesday, October 16, 2019

Montesquieu in Canada: Revisiting the “separation of powers”


In 1987 UBC political scientist Philip Resnick published an interesting journal article: “Montesquieu Revisited, or the Mixed Constitution and the Separation of Powers in Canada”.[1]   It was good to see a sophisticated theoretical approach to Canadian politics, for once, though I would like to offer some correction to his argument.  This post will not discuss at any length Resnick’s study of the idea of a mixed constitution, the origins of which dates with Cicero; suffice it to say it is less intriguing – and less persuasive. Instead we will focus on the concept of the “separation of powers”, for which Montesquieu is indeed most famous, in order to bring greater historical perspective to the SNC-Lavalin issue.

Overall, there is agreement with Resnick that Montesquieu’s case for “moderation”[2] as the path to political liberty is more characteristically Canadian than, say, Locke, whose Huguenot-inspired resistance theory belongs to a tradition which is far stronger in the USA.  We can point to aspects of official reaction to the Winnipeg General Strike, the October Crisis, and, more recently, the G20 protests in Toronto (while Stephen Harper was prime minister) as examples of a weak Lockean tradition.  This is not to suggest, conversely (as Resnick explores), that Hobbes prevails in Canada, though his political philosophy plays a huge role in Stephen Harper’s thinking, a modern-day phenomenon, for which there are few, if any, national antecedents.

Resnick examines Montesquieu’s magisterial work The Spirit of the Laws (1748) focusing on the celebrated discussion “Of the Constitution of England” (Book XI, Chapter 6) as the source of inspiration for Canada’s political order.  Montesquieu begins this particular chapter stating: “In each state there are three sorts of powers: legislative power, executive power over things depending on the rights of nations, and executive power over the things depending on civil right.”[3] He goes on to clarify that liberty ceases to exist “when legislative power is united with a single person or in a single body.”[4] Furthermore, there is no liberty “if the power of judging is not separate from legislative power and from executive power.”[5]

Resnick places great emphasis on Chapter 6 as a political mirror to England, and from there he makes a great leap to Canada. He offers no textual evidence of a Canadian equivalent to Federalist 47 which mentions “the celebrated Montesquieu”.[6]  American constitutionalists can also point to Thomas Jefferson’s translation of Destutt de Tracy’s A Commentary and Review of Montesquieu’s The Spirit of the Laws (1811).[7] In other words, compared to the American constitutional experience, there appears to be a dearth of references to Montesquieu in Canada, either in English or French (as far as I am aware).[8]

Possibly a more forthright approach to Montesquieu in the Canadian context would be to identify his thinking in terms of a religious – as opposed to a strictly political – framework, for The “Spirit” of the Laws is an allusion to the continuing influence of Augustine, who is mentioned in the text.  More significantly, Montesquieu’s ”trois pouvoirs” (an oft-repeated phrase) is but another iteration of Augustine’s Holy Trinity, which is why one admirer could refer to The Spirit of the Laws as “the Bible of all politicians.”[9]  This religious dimension also helps explain why Madison in Federalist 47 calls the separation of powers “the sacred maxim of free government”, but we are getting ahead of ourselves.[10]

It is important to point out that Montesquieu does not use the actual phrase séparation des pouvoirs and only uses the word séparée once in Chapter 6.  Furthermore, he uses the words puissance exécutrices, puissance législative and - distinctly – puissance de juger instead of pouvoir judiciare.[11]  He also describes the power of judging as becoming “invisible & nulle” which suggests that it is the weakest link in the Trinity.[12] This point is repeated, and it is worth noting (as quoted here in English): “Among the three powers of which we have spoken that of judging is in some fashion null.”[13] In other words, there is some question in Montesquieu’s thinking as to whether the judiciary had equal status with the legislative and executive powers.[14]

Moreover, for all his devotion to Book XXI, Chapter 6, Resnick seems to ignore subsequent Chapter 7, where Montesquieu speaks of the “distribution” of powers: “The three powers are not distributed and cast on the model of the constitution which we have mentioned; each instance shows a particular distribution of them and each approximates political liberty accordingly.”[15] Indeed, one may question whether Montesquieu intended a strict “separation” of powers; rather, there appears to be an element of ‘balance’ (or the famous ‘checks and balances’) in operation as the following two paragraphs below imply:

Here, therefore, is the fundamental constitution of the government of which we are speaking.  As its legislative body is composed of two parts, the one will be chained to the other by their reciprocal faculty of vetoing.  The two will be bound by the executive power, which will itself be bound by the legislative power.

The form of these three powers should be rest or inaction.  But as they are constrained to move by the necessary motion of things, they will be forced to move in concert. [16]

In other words, the ‘balanced’ distribution of powers working “in concert” became – as understood in the USA - the ‘separation of powers’, and so Montesquieu became the first in a long line of prominent French thinkers to be appropriated by American intellectuals.  Madison’s Federalist 47 of January 1788 codifies Montesquieu’s Trinity: “the preservation of liberty requires that the three great departments of powers should be separate and distinct.”[17] Note: the phrase “separate and distinct” is repeated a number of times in Federalist 47.  After being imported for the Constitutional purposes of the “thirteen colonies”, Montesquieu was likely then exported to affect the wording of France’s Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen of August 1789 (Article 16): ”Any society in which the guarantee of rights is not secured, or the separation of powers not determined, has no constitution at all.”[18] It is significant that, historically-speaking, Article 16 was regarded in its own time as “somehow disconnected from the other articles of the Declaration.”[19]

So what is Montesquieu’s influence in Canada?  If one looks to the British North America Act of 1867 we see the well-worn Trinity of “Peace, Order and good Government”, the significance of which Resnick misses, but does this reflect the ongoing influence of Augustine – or Montesquieu?  Our Canadian Constitutional motto, such as it is, corresponds to other Trinities, for example the American Declaration of Independence’s “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” and the French Revolution’s liberté, égalité, fraternité. Given that these Trinities are still today prominent in their respective Constitutions, Montesquieu might be considered the primary inspiration (which is not to diminish the Christian subtext), yet – as Resnick and others point out – significantly, the powers of the judiciary are not included in the BNA Act.[20] In other words, the judiciary was “invisible and null” (to borrow again from Montesquieu) so Canada’s constitutional framework in 1867 was much like Montesquieu’s understanding of England in the eighteenth century, taken literally, as Resnick writes.[21] Canada’s Supreme Court was formed in 1875, but it was by no means supreme: up until 1949 appeal could always be made to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, which met in London, England.  If our judiciary was separate from the other two orders of government – it was separated, constitutionally-speaking, by the Atlantic Ocean.

To sum up, it seems difficult to speak of an explicit, textual tradition of a “separation of powers” in Canadian Constitutional history: at best it was perpetuated by the pervasive mantra of the Trinity.  The “spirit” of separation was implied by the unwritten factor which is to suggest that, in Montesquieu’s original thinking, de jure separation did not mean de facto separation.[22]  This may help to explain why - most recently - the Liberals (not unlike other political parties in Canada) could employ “department store” politics, appealing “to customers of all classes, doctrines and social persuasions”, when faced with repercussions from the SNC-Lavalin Affair:  Justin Trudeau’s claim that he was simply ’protecting jobs’ falls under this category.[23] The prime minister’s argument is still consistent with Montesquieu’s original notion of ‘balancing’ or ‘counter-balancing’ or even ‘distributing’ the orders of government, which was informed by the unwritten constitution as examined in The Spirit of the Laws.

But the English constitution has moved beyond its eighteenth-century mooring; moreover, Canadians have since fallen sway to countervailing American constitutional expressions. Those elements of Montesquieu that came to Canada, Resnick argues, were “refracted through American lenses” (largely after 1949). [24] He also argues - and this is widely acknowledged - that the Charter of Rights and Freedoms of 1982 has changed everything, as now Canadians have a written document which grants greater dignity to the judiciary, especially the Supreme Court, which today more closely resembles its counterpart in the USA as the final arbiter of law in the land.[25]  The matter of separation of powers  - and consequently  the rule of law and the power of the courts - are much more doctrinaire these days, with the possible exception of Quebec today, where the CAQ’s Bill 21, inspired by Rousseau’s ‘general will’ turns on a notion of non-separation.
 
Overall, however, Canadians have moved beyond any memories of political trinitarianism, thanks to former Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau, who introduced written Constitutional principles enforced by a scrutinizing and independent “pouvoir de juger”.  In other words, it is with certain irony that Justin Trudeau’s greatest headache in the SNC-Lavalin Affair was perceived to be all the more problematic – as it was his own father who, in 1982, did the most to bring Montesquieu’s “separation” of powers (as understood in the USA) into the Canadian fold than anyone else before him.







[1] Philip Resnick, “Montesquieu Revisited, or the Mixed Constitution and the Separation of Powers in Canada,” Canadian Journal of Political Science/ Revue canadienne de science politique, Vol. 20, No. 1 (Mar. 1987), 97-115.  For more recent perspectives on Montesquieu see also: Rebecca E. Kingston, ed. Montesquieu and his legacy (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2009). Kingston teaches at the University of Toronto’s political science department.  It’s worth noting that her edited book was published in the United States – not Canada.
[2] “Men must not be led to extremes; one should manage the means that nature gives us to guide them.” Cf. Montesquieu, The Spirit of the Laws, ed. and tr. Anne Cohler, Basia Miler, Harold Stone (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 190), Book VI, Chapter 12, p. 85.  Again: “… men almost always accommodate themselves better to middles than to extremities.” Book XXI, Chapter 6, p. 166.
[3] The Spirit of the Laws, Book XXI, Chapter 6, p. 156.  Emphasis added.
[4] Ibid., p. 157.
[5] Ibid.
[6] James Madison, Federalist No. 47 in Alexander Hamilton, John Jay and James Madison, The Federalist Papers and the Constitution of the United States: The Principles of the American Government (New York, NY: Racehorse, 2016), p. 277.
[7] See Jacob T. Levy, “Montesquieu’s Constitutional Legacies” in Kingston, ed. Montesquieu and his legacy, p. 136, n. 37.
[8] Readers might be interested in Stephen L. Newman, “Free Speech and The Spirit of Laws in Canada and the United States: A Test of Montesquieu’s Approach to Comparative Law” in Ibid., Ch. 11, pp. 221-236.
[9] Aurelian Craiutu, A Virtue for Courageous Minds: Moderation in French Political Thought, 1748-1830 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2012), p. 33.  This is an important and impressive work with fresh ideas on Montesquieu and moderation from which I have drawn a number of salient points.
[10] Federalist No. 47, p. 282.  Emphasis added.
[11] Craiutu, A Virtue for Courageous Minds, p. 49.  Craiutu makes this observation, and it is rather evident when read in the original French.
[12] Montesquieu, De ‘Esprit des Lois, Tome 2, ed. Irina Montreal (Paris: Librairie Ch. Delagrave, 1892 [Reprint]), p. 96. See The Spirit of the Laws, Book XI, Ch.6, p. 158.
[13] The Spirit of the Laws, Book XXI, Ch. 11, p. 160.
[14] Craiutu, A Virtue for Courageous Minds, p. 49.
[15] The Spirit of the Laws, Book XXI, Ch. 11, pp. 166,167.
[16] Ibid., p. 164.
[17] Federalist No. 47, p. 277.
[18] Laura Masson and Tracey Rizzo, The French Revolution: A Document Collection (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1999), p. 104.  Toute société dans laquelle la garantie des droits n’est pas assurée, ni la séparation des pouvoirs déterminée, n’a point de constitution.
[19] Craiutu, A Virtue for Courageous Minds, p. 90.
[20] Resnick, “Montesquieu Revisited,” p. 110. See also: Peter McCormick, Supreme at Last: The Evolution of the Supreme Court of Canada (Toronto: James Lorimer, 2000), p. 2.
[21] Resnick, “Montesquieu Revisited”, p. 110.
[22] Craiutu, A Virtue for Courageous Minds, p. 52.
[23] The metaphor of the “department store” for political parties in was created by Joseph Harsch, an American., who used it to compare their function in the USA with those in Britain.  It was Frank Underhill who was the first to apply the metaphor to Canadian politics.  See Frank H. Underhill, In Search of Canadian Liberalism (Toronto: Oxford University Press, 2013), pp. 251-251.
[24] Resnick, “Montesquieu Revisited,” p. 111.
[25] Ibid., p. 112.

Wednesday, October 9, 2019

Rousseau’s “forced to be free” argument and Quebec’s religious minorities: Bill 21


In fact, 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 fulfil 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 political machine; this alone legitimizes civil undertakings, which, without it, would be absurd, tyrannical and liable to the most frightful abuses.

Rousseau, The Social Contract (1762)[1]



[1] Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses, tr. G.D.H. Cole, revised J.H. Brumfitt and John G. Hall (New York: Dutton/Everyman’s Library, 1978), p. 177  (Book I, Chapter 7).