Murphy Shimamoto

War and Scarcity in Rousseau’s Nature

Thesis:

“the state of war, far from being natural to man…is born of peace or at least the precautions men have taken to secure a lasting peace,” (167).¹ Rousseau’s proposition, put forward in Principles of the Right of War, simultaneously reaffirms his conception of nature’s peaceful harmony and furthers his indictment against civil society. This essay will venture to evince that the conditions of his state of nature and his definition of war must, when scrutinized, lead to conclusions at odds with his own. A tripartite structure will be utilized which first analyzes and attempts to tidy Rousseau’s definition of war, then demonstrates that his state of nature would inevitably be blighted by scarcity, and culminates with the conclusion that the conditions argued for in the second segment will create a state of war as defined in the first section. Rousseau’s state of nature, because of the inexorable emergence of scarcity, will lead to a natural state of war.

War: Exegesis and Refinement

Rousseau described war as “a point where a being endowed with reason is convinced that his preservation is inconsistent…with another’s…existence…and tries to destroy him as vigorously as he tries to preserve himself,” (168).² This resolution is then reciprocated by the enemy, who deduces that so long as his aggressor maintains this conviction, his own existence is rendered perpetually precarious. He must, therefore, strive to eliminate this existential threat. Through this reasoned decision to destroy an enemy, war transcends random violence and is imbued with meaningful content as a distinct concept that reflects interstate conflicts. Insisting on its heterogeneity to violence, Rousseau avers that, “war consists not in…unpremeditated fights, not even in homicide or murder committed in an outburst of anger,” (168).³ This is essential. For example, a fallen tree branch whose descent ends by colliding with one’s head, could severely enrage the affected person and even occasion a violent reaction, but it would seem inappropriate to claim that this person is then at war with the plummeted bough. By paring off spontaneous violence from his definition, Rousseau highlights what he believes is essential to war, stating that, “This manifest will to destroy one another and all the actions that result from it lead to a relation between…enemies that is called war,” (168).⁴ That this will, war’s core element, is distinct from violence renders war itself independent from the actuality of conflict for “when two declared enemies remain quiet and do not engage in any offensive action toward one another…it is called…a state of war,” (169).⁵ Thus, states can be at war despite the temporary absence of ongoing conflict. War is thereby rendered an underlying state, defined by the will to destroy an enemy and with violence itself reduced to mere eruptions of this state of enmity.

Rousseau then argues that for war to emerge it must be initiated by rational individuals. For, “to judge that this enemy’s existence is incompatible with our well-being requires self-possession and reason, which create a lasting resolve,” (168-9).⁶ If this will to destroy is to become manifest, one must have the degree of reason necessary to take stock of his interests as well as those of his enemy, and be able to glean from these appraisals that their discord is not only fundamentally and insolubly incompatible but that the possibility of the other fulfilling their antithetical interests constitutes an existential threat which must be negated. The necessity to sort through this complex morass of considerations and arrive at a firm intention impervious to the vagaries of passion, indicates a level of decision making and commitment exclusive to rational beings. The elimination of this state of war, besides the destruction of the enemy, requires a peace treaty, “the relation of war once established can only end with a formal peace,” (169).⁷ As the will which begets war is a reasoned decision based on existentially threatening circumstances, the only way for this will to be neutralized is through the eradication of the circumstances which generate it. Hence, excluding the annihilation of the enemy (which achieves war’s positive goal), there must be a formal peace which agrees on removing the conditions motivating the involved parties to war. These are the central aspects of Rousseau’s concept of war which will be maintained in the forthcoming analysis.

Rousseau’s effort to deprive individuals of the ability to war with each other is founded on its being illegitimate and private. One such relation Rousseau strips of war status is the duel. It is this instance of individual conflict that we will defend against Rousseau’s exclusion in order to introduce the possibility of interpersonal war. Against this Rousseau contends, “War is a permanent state which presupposes lasting relations, and such relations rarely obtain between man and man, where everything…is in continual flux,” (172).⁸ While this may be true of interpersonal relations during a specific period within Nature, this argument certainly cannot be levied against dueling within civil society. Society weaves between persons an ever greater degree of constancy and regularity due to, “men’s mutual dependence and the reciprocal needs that unite them,” (162).⁹ The irregularity between independent, self-sufficient persons in Nature entirely evaporates once they become mutually reliant in society. Rousseau adds to his assertion by saying of dueling that “they led not to a genuine state of war but to a private affair,” (173).¹⁰ Why the previously outlined definition of war should bracket out privacy is unclear. There’s nothing within the concept of the will to destroy an enemy that seems to entail its sole application to a public enemy. Moreover, it would seem tautological to insist that a war cannot obtain between individuals because it's between individuals. And if he wanted to assert that public war (the only type which can exist between states) is the only true war, prefixing the adjective ‘public’ to war would betray the fact that publicity has no inherent relation to war’s initial conceptualization. That adjective would then act as a specifier of a type of war, not a definition of war itself. Hence, if public can be used to identify a type of war, there is no reason why private couldn’t be used to designate another. Furthermore, the circumstances of duelers, persons who decide that the existence of their opponent is incompatible with their own and endeavor to destroy each other, satisfy all the previous criteria. In fact, the existence in their persons of a unified moral entity exactly parallels the abstract unified moral being of a public person, but is even more concrete. Rousseau attempts to buttress his distinction by describing the conditions of a private affair as, “clearly settled in a finite time and place,” (173).¹¹ This, however, would again impose additional arbitrary constraints, this time spatio-temporal, fundamentally unrelated to a will to destroy an enemy and thus to war. The privacy of interpersonal conflicts cannot exclude their categorization as a war.

Illegitimacy, is another aspect which Rousseau believes invalidates dueling, yet, this too seems untenable. Within the state, “no one has a right to dispose of…another’s life, the state of war can also not obtain,” (172).¹² Rousseau is claiming that because killing an individual within a state is illegitimate, dueling cannot be construed as a type of war. Nevertheless, Rousseau later describes a war scenario, the Helots and Ephors who, because enslavement is patently unjust,¹³ “were necessarily in a state of war,” (180).¹⁴ Whereas in the latter instance a group of people, by perpetrating an illegitimate action, forced themselves into a state of war with their victims, Rousseau claims that between individuals a war cannot possibly obtain because the action is itself illegitimate. Paradoxically, Rousseau insists that illegitimacy can both necessitate and negate war. He is fully aware of this paradox and even sides in favor of our argument when he distinguishes between the state of war and legitimate war¹⁵ thus affirming that legitimacy and war have no inseperable bond. Hence, as neither illegitimacy nor privacy can prohibit dueling from becoming a form of war, the possibility of a war between individuals must exist on Rousseau’s own terms.

This final portion analyzing Rousseau’s concept of war will seek to elucidate the meaning of destruction in war and expand this refinement to interpersonal wars. In an effort to discredit Hobbes’s war of each against all, Rousseau writes that, “Instead of massacring them he will put them all in chains…since it is no longer a question of destroying, the state of war is abolished,” (171).¹⁶ This attempt at a semantic disqualification reveals something about war that should be infused into our understanding of Rousseau’s concept. Hobbes says of his state of nature that its inhabitants would be steered by a perpetual desire for power because, “he cannot assure the power and means to live…without the acquisition of more,” (80).¹⁷ Due to the volatility and violence ubiquitous in the Hobbesian natural state, its inhabitants must constantly attempt to dominate others and accrue power in order to secure themselves. In Rousseauian terms, given that the rational man in Hobbes’s state of nature would recognize all other persons as the existential threats that they are, he regards them as enemies whom he must destroy in order that he not be destroyed himself. Rousseau says, however, that since enslavement isn’t the destruction of an enemy in a literal sense, then Hobbes’s nature cannot be a state of war. Yet, as Rousseau later recognizes, this is an imperfect, myopic conception of destruction. It must be recalled that the individual initiating war conceives of the enemy as a threat whose existence is deemed incompatible with his own. It is naturally incumbent upon him to destroy this threat, but that does not necessitate that the enemy’s status as a threat is inextricably interwoven with their person. By enslaving those around him the Hobbesian person not only neutralizes the threat that his now-slaves had previously posed to him, but empowers himself by increasing the amount of force at his disposal. Therefore, the Hobbesian person’s desire to enslave possible threats rather than kill them is perfectly consistent with Rousseau’s understanding of war, as one eliminates the conditions which make them an enemy. Rousseau himself was aware of this fact and later added to his description of interstate war that, “I call war...manifest disposition to destroy the enemy state, or at least to weaken it by all means,” (179).¹⁸ This possesses no inconsistency with Rousseau’s earlier definition. By weakening the enemy by all means, one destroys his capacity to be a threat, therefore, nullifying his status as an enemy.¹⁹ The inconsistency lies, however, between Rousseau’s extending this clarification to interstate war and his spurious attempt to disqualify interpersonal war on the basis of it. When this inconsistency is discarded, we are left with the conclusion that neither interpersonal nor interstate wars depend on the complete annihilation of the enemy entity but only the negation of the enemy’s capacity to pose an existential threat.

Having reworked Rousseau’s conception of war, we now define it as a state in which rational parties regard one another as existential enemies whose capacity to threaten must be neutralized by all means possible.

Scarcity

We will begin with two simple propositions which should demonstrate the necessary emergence of scarcity. The first is that the earth is finite. While this claim seems axiomatic, we can comfort ourselves in the knowledge that Rousseau acknowledges this as he says, while discussing another subject, “limits would at least have been those of the world,” (227).²⁰ Secondly, given the world’s finitude, if it were proven that the human species was inclined to procreate infinitely, they would inevitably encounter scarcity. While individual humans have a finite nourishment-need, the potentiality to reproduce an infinite number of individuals would entail an infinite nourishment-need, which the earth cannot provide. Therefore, this segment will illustrate that within Rousseau’s state of nature humanity can be expected to have a continuously increasing population, which due to the planet’s finitude, must eventually confront scarcity.

Rousseau was astutely aware of this eventuality and thus erected a series of safeguards to forestall it. His initial bulwark was a vindication of nature’s fertility, citing M. De Buffon that, “plants…when they decay restore more to the earth than they had drawn,” (197).²¹ Therefore nature’s plenty is insured against an increasing amount of consumers by vegetation’s ability to increase its nourishment-capacity. And while Rousseau doesn’t specify whether this augmentation is equal or superior to an increasing population’s capacity to deplete it, it would nevertheless be insufficient to inhibit scarcity. De Buffon’s claim isn’t even taken by Rousseau as a certainty given that he adds, “if there is…vegetation that could compensate for the depletion…due to animals…then it is mainly woods,” (198).²² This uncertain proviso, however, isn’t able to address spatial scarcity. With a human population which can reproduce infinitely and with the vegetation that can keep up with them existing only in certain climates, the finite space of these self-replenishing climates would eventually reach a point of complete inhabitation. These environments would become as dense as a trash compactors, forcing chunks of their populations to disperse into non-replenishing climates and thus reproduce until they attained a population size which can no longer be sustained by the natural produce. Even if Rousseau could secure part of nature’s plenty against depletion, he would only defer the problem of scarcity to inhabitable space. This is why it is essential for Rousseau to undermine the notion of an increasing population.

This is precisely what Rousseau endeavors to engineer with his assertion that mankind is naturally frugivorous. Rousseau formulates that, “Man, whose Teeth and Intestines are like those of Frugivorous Animals…in that class,” (199)²³ and that among them, “the number of young…never exceeds two to a litter,” (202).²⁴ Rousseau very cleverly strives to eviscerate all concerns about human overpopulation by rendering man a frugivore with a natural reproduction limit. It is this serious buffer which this essay must eliminate.

It must first be noted how odd this pre-emptive measure is given the opening page of Part I where he outlines his method. He claims that because “the observations of Naturalists are…too uncertain to permit…solid reasoning,” (137)²⁵ that he will proceed, “without taking into account the changes that must have occurred in man’s internal…confirmation as he gradually…took up new foods,” (137).²⁶ It seems rather that if he wanted to maintain the position espoused in the second quote he should have assumed man to be carnivorous as he is now and that arguments contrary to this must use means in conflict with the first quote. All this is to communicate that Rousseau’s parry should, on further reflection, appear highly suspicious. Nevertheless, we must undermine the argument itself.

Rousseau cites a woman’s , “number of teats,” (202),²⁷ as evidence of her natural reproduction capacity. The argument runs that a woman has one teat per child thus indicating her natural reproduction-rate. This is key as a reproduction rate of two should guarantee a permanently stable population with the two children replacing their two parents after death. Rousseau solidifies this inference with the claim that plant-eating animals, “are forced to spend much time feeding themselves,” (202).²⁸ Thus the human female, as a frugivore, must spend a disproportionate amount of time feeding herself and her children, severely limiting the number she can rear. Rousseau assumes that the small number of offspring nature can expect her to have is two, as indicated by her pair of teats. This argument, however, is specious. Even if we were to join Rousseau in the assumption that two teats imply a natural limitation on a woman’s litter, it is not convincing that this limitation must apply over the course of her entire life. Frugivorous woman’s feeding time and her two teats may be able to form a convincing couple which demonstrates a natural limitation on children, but only so long as those two children remain under her care. As soon as they are of the self-sufficient age when they will abandon her, she would immediately be freed of these constraints and be able to raise another pair of children. Two teats would restrict a woman to two tots at a time, not total. Moreover, Rousseau’s argument increases the likelihood that this would occur. When he says that, “Children…their strength and…organs develop later among us than they did in the primitive state,” (221),²⁹ this means not only that natural woman would have to care for her pair of children for a shorter amount of time, allowing her to give birth to another pair sooner, but that people in Nature, thanks to their quickly developing organs, would have a longer period of their life during which they could procreate. Compounded with the fact that, “Man…may live…ninety or a hundred years,” (201),³⁰ a woman’s likelihood of living through the entirety of her fertility period is expanded significantly. Natural women could therefore have many more than two children overall even if they were limited to only having one pair at a time.

Finally, if women were limited in nature to two children overall it would seem that since, “Nature…makes those who have a good constitution strong…others to perish,” (138),³¹ humanity would actually be bound to suffer from population decrease. Were a woman to have only two children throughout her life, exactly enough to replenish the existing population, and yet every once and a while an unfit child died, mankind, not having a surplus of children to offset these deaths, would suffer from a decreasing population. If stretched over a long enough period, this arrangement would indicate that humanity was on a trajectory towards extinction as with each generation the population would continuously depreciate. Those defending Rousseau may claim that if a woman lost a child she would decide to procreate again in order to equalize this loss. However, this not only seems unnatural as the impetus to reproduce is described as “blind inclination,” (165),³² but it also uncomfortably resembles a rational species-based choice which an individual animal, “that…can have neither foresight nor curiosity,” (146),³³ should not yet be capable of making.³⁴

Therefore, it seems we must conclude, despite Rousseau’s defenses, that given the finite constraints which exist on earth and the relentless increase of human populations, mankind will inescapably encounter scarcity.

The Dawn of War:

“But let us suppose that men had multiplied so much that natural produce no longer sufficed…the tools for Farming had dropped from Heaven into the Savages’ hands…what man would; after all this, be so senseless as to torment himself with cultivating a Field that will be despoiled by the first comer,” (147).³⁵ Rousseau is quite right in espying the fact that due to the requisite equipment and natural man’s nature, even if scarcity were to arise, agriculture is unlikely to develop in response. This example is, however, underhandedly proffered in order to suggest the impossibility of natural scarcity. By illustrating the improbability of Savage man’s innovating agriculture under scarcity constraints, yet conceiving of no alternative which could be born of them, Rousseau, by displaying the absurdity of the former, implies the absurdity of the latter. Having presented an argument exhibiting the ineluctable advent of scarcity, this essay will now substantiate the emergence of a new state of affairs from these circumstances. This new state is one of natural war.

Rousseau’s savage, despite finding himself in a state of scarcity, will not be divested of his essential character. His intrinsic and sole desires are, “food, a female, and rest; the only evils he fears are pain, and hunger,” (145).³⁶ Man, still utterly individual in scarce nature, would not yet have had the societal interactions with others of his kind which vitalize feelings of amour propre.³⁷ In fact, the exact opposite would occur as scarcity, by diminishing his chances of satiating these desires, would intensify them. With a reduced food supply he feels the pains of hunger more acutely and frequently. Additionally, given the increased difficulty and duration now required by foraging, his ability to rest is lessened from what it would be under non-scarce conditions. Scarcity sustains natural man’s array of desires and exacerbates them.

Scarcity has ushered in a period of privation, within which most individuals unavoidably at times feel the pains of hunger. Now as it is, “natural…to repel the evil that pursues us,” (168),³⁸ those persons most agonized by alimentary privation, because of their perfectibility,³⁹ will begin to develop traits to pre-empt it. Additionally, Rousseau admits that there exists between men a natural inequality, “which consists in the differences in…strengths of body, and qualities of mind,” (134).⁴⁰ Hence, there will be those who are more perspicacious and can better cultivate the mental traits, such as foresight, which facilitate one’s acquisition of basic needs. Furthermore, there will also be those born with stronger bodies, more adept at securing their succor. Lastly, there will be those with a natural advantage in both fields. The natural inequalities amongst men no longer have the superficiality they possessed in Rousseau’s state of plenty where everyone could satisfy their modest desires. Rather they have become essential determinants in whether or not one is able procure their needs from the limited resources that exist under scarcity. These natural traits would generate a marked distinction in material acquisition amongst men in Nature. The naturally weaker persons, unable to rival the naturally strong and shrewd in disinterested competition and suffering the pains of hunger because of it, would eventually regard other men as enemies.

This period of privation is not itself a state of war, but rather the circumstance under which the passions, reasons, and distinctions that create war are formed. Privation was the overture and war is the main act. The backdrop has been set and the curtains rise. Two men walk on stage, one naturally weak and the other strong. They regard each other and can immediately appraise their viewer’s capabilities as, “Before art had fashioned our manners…men found their security in how easily they saw through one another,” (8).⁴¹ They discern the other’s characteristics and compare them with their own. They understand that between them there is a profound difference, even an antithesis. Where one is deficient, the other is superior. Now, of course the preceding is a bit dramatic and for this distinction to be stamped into the minds of men they would have to see many persons of their antipodal type in various circumstances throughout their life. Nevertheless, given the population swell which precipitated scarcity, the opportunities to observe these other men would increase significantly. For example, the naturally weaker man may see the naturally stronger men move about confidently, with more defined figures, and often in repose (as their superior capacity in acquiring provisions enables a greater amount of rest). Likewise, the naturally strong would see weaker humans who were perhaps leaner, slower, and more restless due to infrequent nourishment. In any case, further speculation into what these traits may be seems impertinent. The essential fact is that distinct traits would sharpen between those who are naturally unequal in their ability to obtain sustenance and that these differing traits are a visible product of that inequality.⁴² Furthermore, due to the larger population, the occurrence of human encounters increases allowing the comparisons made between men to cement themselves in one’s psyche.

The weaker men, often suffering the pains of privation and unable to compete against the stronger, would need to harm other men. This could manifest in stealing provisions from stronger persons when they’re absent or fighting a weaker man who he thinks he can defeat over some nourishment. These weaker men would understand from frequent privations and recurring brawls, in the same way that thirst makes a man understand he must drink, that other men, through their consumption of goods, threaten his survival. We can easily apprehended this as the finitude of resources cannot provide for everyone. Therefore the stronger will take their share and the rest will be taken in insufficient, uncertain bits by the weaker. For these persons the existence of other men is the cause of their privation and risk of starvation. If these other men did not exist there would be no scarcity and he would be able to live carefree, as Rousseau imagined. Consequently, when he brawls or pilfers, he doesn’t do so because an avaricious amour propre has infected him and told him that his passions are more important than anyone else’s concerns, but rather because his innate sentiment, amour de soi-même, commands him to give preference to himself when his self-preservation is in danger. For the weaker man, everybody represents an existential threat as they, by living, limit and possibly exhaust his food supply. Mankind is his enemy.⁴³

For the stronger men, the situation is different. As the stronger are almost guaranteed to secure their natural needs, and pre-societal man’s, “Desires do not exceed his Physical needs,” (145),⁴⁴ he will never have reason to initiate a quarrel. Therefore there is no momentum within the stronger to thieve or attack, as they already possess everything they could want. Disruptions to what would otherwise have been a predictable, peaceful existence stem from the actions of the weaker who may steal from him or attempt to disable him. The strong men who experience these attacks and robberies would notice that they always come from those with the traits specific to the weaker men.⁴⁵ Given the fact that the theft of his provisions and the efforts to negate his strength are an existential threat and recognizing that those with the weaker traits are always the culprits, he would in turn come to reciprocate their enmity.⁴⁶ Therefore, the weaker and the stronger exist in a state of war, yet between the stronger themselves there is peace and for the weaker a war of all against all.

This doesn’t mean, however, that there will be endless violence until the enemy is eradicated. Instead, a state of war now reigns between types of men. This also doesn’t necessitate that the individual men are at war with one another. For example, a stronger man may have once felt pity⁴⁷ for a weaker one and thus decided to supply him with some of his provisions.⁴⁸ Such a condition is perfectly analogous to Rousseau’s conception of interstate war as in it, “individuals are enemies…not as men…but as soldiers (48).⁴⁹ In this parallel, the individuals can be understood as soldiers, which instead of fighting for and against a public person, fight for their self-preservation against their natural enemies. The discernable traits of a man in nature, indicating whether he is stronger or weaker, constitute a type of natural uniform informing others whether he is friend or foe.

The inevitable decay of nature into a state of scarcity would catalyze a natural war between men.

Notes

¹ Rousseau, The Social Contract and Other Later Political Writings, 167.

² Ibid., 168.

³ Ibid., 168.

⁴ Ibid., 168.

⁵ Ibid., 169.

⁶ Ibid., 168-9.

⁷ Ibid., 169.

⁸ Ibid., 172.

⁹ Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 162.

¹⁰ Rousseau, The Social Contract and Other Later Political Writings, 173.

¹¹ Ibid., 173.

¹² Ibid., 172.

¹³ Fourth chapter of The Social Contract, arguments against slavery’s legitimacy.

¹⁴ Rousseau, The Social Contract and Other Later Political Writings, 180.

¹⁵ Ibid., 179.

¹⁶ Ibid., 171.

¹⁷ Hobbes, Leviathan, 80.

¹⁸ Rousseau, The Social Contract and Other Later Political Writings, 179.

¹⁹ A peace treaty is an example of a case where an enemy’s capacity to threaten is removed (although voluntarily).

²⁰ Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 227.

²¹ Ibid., 197.

²² Ibid., 198.

²³ Ibid., 199.

²⁴ Ibid., 202.

²⁵ Ibid., 137.

²⁶ Ibid., 137.

²⁷ Ibid., 202.

²⁸ Ibid., 202.

²⁹ Ibid., 221.

³⁰ Ibid., 201.

³¹ Ibid., 138.

³² Ibid., 165.

³³ Ibid., 146.

³⁴ This would apply also to the rebuttal that she would choose to limit herself to two children during her life.

³⁵ Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 147.

³⁶ Ibid., 145.

³⁷ See Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 170, how Society develops desires. See ibid., 224, definitions for amour propre and amour de soi-même.

³⁸ Rousseau, The Social Contract and Other Later Political Writings, 168.

³⁹ See Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 144, An Explanation of Perfectibility.

⁴⁰ Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 134.

⁴¹ Ibid., 8.

⁴² It may not be inappropriate to classify the stronger, those who can acquire their necessities, as the naturally rich and the weaker, who cannot, as the naturally poor. Wealth inequality would then be natural to mankind.

⁴³ It is important to note that weaker men would not designate animals as an enemy for they know that, were it not for the other humans, they would outcompete them. “amongst the animals…feeling that he surpasses them in skill…learns to fear them no more,” (139). Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 139.

⁴⁴ Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 145.

⁴⁵ He need not understand that they are weaker men but may, primitively, associate those traits with thievery or violence.

⁴⁶ The weaker, uncertain about their ability to acquire, initiate a war of acquisition against those who possess, thereby forcing the stronger to react with a war of preservation to protect the status quo.

⁴⁷ See Rousseau, The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings, 155, Explanation of Pity.

⁴⁸ If he did this so frequently that he began to feel the pangs of hunger, pain would teach him never to repeat it.

⁴⁹ Rousseau, The Social Contract and Other Later Political Writings, 48.

Works Cited

Hobbes, Thomas. Leviathan. Edited by C. B. Macpherson, Penguin, 1985.

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. Rousseau: The Discourses and Other Early Political Writings. Edited by Victor Gourevitch, 2nd ed., Cambridge UP, 2018.

---. Rousseau: The Social Contract and Other Later Political Writings. Edited by Victor Gourevitch, 2nd ed., Cambridge UP, 2018.