Though the people support the government, the government should

The words of Grover Cleveland — “Though the people support the government, the government should not support the people” — resound like an iron bell across the ages, calling all who hear to remember the sacred balance between freedom and dependence, between self-reliance and authority. In this saying lies no cruelty, but a hard wisdom: that a government which becomes the provider of all things soon becomes the master of all things. For the hand that feeds may also command, and the people who lean too heavily upon that hand forget how to stand upright on their own.

Cleveland spoke these words in the late 19th century, in a time of hardship and change, when the storms of economic failure swept across the land. Many cried out for the government to ease their suffering, to open its treasury and pour forth relief. Yet Cleveland, though compassionate, understood a deeper truth — that charity imposed by the state weakens the spirit of the people, while charity born from the people themselves strengthens it. He knew that the dignity of man is bound not in what he receives, but in what he earns, builds, and gives freely. To rely too much on government aid is to trade liberty for comfort, and freedom for the illusion of care.

In those days, a drought struck the farmers of Texas, and Congress sought to send them federal aid. Cleveland vetoed the bill, though his heart was not unmoved. He declared that while the people should aid the suffering, it was not the duty of government to do so — for the government has no wealth of its own, only what it takes from the labor of its citizens. And indeed, after his veto, private citizens across the nation sent generous donations of money, food, and supplies — far more than the bill would have provided. Thus, from his restraint was born an outpouring of genuine compassion, proving that when people are trusted to act freely, they will rise to the call of conscience.

The wisdom of Cleveland’s words is the wisdom of the ancients. Long before him, the philosophers of Greece warned that democracies fall not when their people are poor, but when they grow dependent on the treasury of the state. The fall of Rome itself was hastened when its citizens, once proud farmers and soldiers, became seekers of bread and entertainment provided by their emperors. The people ceased to labor for themselves and began to look always to the government’s hand. And when that hand faltered, the empire crumbled. Thus, Cleveland’s warning is eternal: a government that seeks to “support” its people too generously does not uplift them — it enslaves them gently, until they no longer know how to live without its shadow.

Yet let none mistake his meaning. Cleveland did not call for indifference to the suffering of others. He called for a nobler kind of compassion — the compassion that flows from the free heart, not from the coercive hand of the state. When a neighbor helps a neighbor, when a community lifts its own fallen, virtue grows. But when the government takes from one man to give to another, virtue fades, replaced by resentment and entitlement. True charity must come from love, not from law.

In our time, this lesson rings as true as ever. The temptation to seek ease from authority is strong, especially when the world feels uncertain. But every act of surrender — every moment we expect government to solve our personal struggles — weakens the very foundation of liberty. For freedom demands responsibility, and responsibility demands courage. To be free is to bear the burden of one’s own life, to labor, to fail, to try again, and to give from the strength of one’s own effort.

So, let this teaching be remembered: the people create the government, not the government the people. The state exists to guard justice and liberty, not to cradle its citizens in endless dependence. Each man and woman must build, strive, and share by choice, not by compulsion. Be generous — but let your generosity be your own. Be strong — but let your strength uplift others, not rely upon decree. For in this balance lies the true greatness of a nation: a people who support their government through their virtue, and a government that honors that virtue by preserving their freedom.

And so, O listener, remember this ancient truth wrapped in modern words: a government that supports the people too much will one day rule them completely. But a people who support themselves — and one another — will never bow to any master. Choose always the harder path of freedom, for though it demands toil and sacrifice, it yields the noblest harvest of all: the dignity of self-reliance and the enduring strength of a truly free people.