By: Stephen
C. Neff, Reader in Law – Public International Law, University of Edinburgh Law
School
Among those who have mused on the blessings
of civilization, there has often been a pronounced bias in favor of
agricultural ways of life and against nomadic and pastoral lifestyles. Among
the ancient Greeks, this was particularly the case, and nowhere more vividly
than in Homer’s account of Polyphemus, the cyclops in the Odyssey. This
decidedly oafish character is derided for his disgusting habits of consuming
milk instead of wine, and of eating meat raw, “like a mountain lion,” instead
of cooking it (as a proper Greek would do). More generally, the cyclops as a
race are described as an “insolent and lawless people” who “plant nothing with
their hands, nor do they plough . . . they have no political assemblies, nor
appointed laws.” To top it off Polyphemus was a cannibal to boot, as he set
about methodically devouring Odysseus’s unfortunate shipmates.
Less imaginative writers in the classical
age echoed these sentiments. The Roman historian Ammianus Marcellinus, writing
in the Fourth Century A.D., voiced similarly negative views about the various
tribal peoples on the margins of the Roman Empire. “No man among the
Saracens,” he asserted derisively, “ever grasps a plough-handle, cultivates a
tree, or seeks a living by tilling the soil, but they roam continually over
wide empty tracts of land, with no home, fixed abode or laws. . . . They all
feed upon game and great quantities of milk. . . . I have seen many of them
who were completely unacquainted with grain or wine.”
The coming of Christianity brought no great
change of outlook – hardly surprisingly, as Christianity was virtually
exclusively an urban phenomenon in the Roman period. Central to the liturgy of
the new religion was – and continues to be -- the ritual consumption of bread
and wine.
It might be thought that all of this has
little, if anything, to do with international law. But that would not be
correct. The privileging of agricultural production over other styles of life
turned out to play a role in the European colonial expansion into the New World
in the years after 1492, as well as in the British settlement of Australia in
the 18th and 19th Centuries. In the New World, the
“agricultural thesis,” as it has sometimes been termed, was most important to
the English colonists of North America, where it played a prominent role in the
legal justification of English sovereignty.
The Spanish did not make use of the
agricultural thesis, for various reasons. For one thing, the Indian kingdoms
which they encountered were agricultural economies rather than hunting-and-gathering
or pastoral ones. In addition, they had (broadly) three alternate grounds for
justifying their title to the new territories: first, papal grants of sovereignty
dating from the 15th Century; second, violation by the native kingdoms
of the Spaniards’ natural-law right of freedom of trade; and third (at least in
the case of Hernando Cortés in Mexico) attacks by the Aztecs on native allies
of the Spaniards. These justifications were not available to the later English
settlers – with the papal-grant argument being particularly noxious to the
sturdy protestants of the 17th Century.
The English sometimes relied on cession as
the basis of their title, with the Quakers being particularly scrupulous about
obtaining formal transfer of territories by way of treaty. But in many
instances, treaties were