What matters most about Thoreau's essay is the complex relationship between text and action. The essay emerges from Thoreau's action, interprets that action, is read, and then turned back into action again by its readers. It mattered so much to the action of so many, Tolstoy, Gandhi, Martin Luther King,Jr., the African National Congress founder Trevor N. W. Bush, the Freedom Rider William Mahoney, a deliberately anonymous fighter in the Danish resistance etc. etc. among them. Ironically, judging by his diary, Henry David Thoreau seems on the face of it a man unlikely to have influenced all the people he obviously did influence. Civil Disobedience sounds individualist, secular, anarchist, elitist, and antidemocratic; but it has influenced persons of great religious devotion, leaders of collective campaigns, and members of resistance movements.
In the first two paragraphs of the essay, Thoreau argues derisively against government in general. He agrees with the motto, "That government is best which governs not at all," and claims that "when men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government they will have." He portrays government as something comically weak, "a sort of wooden gun to the people themselves," an obstacle to enterprise and trade and commerce, and points out that what the USA has achieved is the result of the character of the American people, while the government only hinders those achievements.
But then Thoreau changes ground: "To speak practically and as a citizen, unlike those who call themselves no-government men, I ask for, not at once no gov- ernment, but at once a better government. Let every man make known what kind of government would command his respect, and that will be one step towards obtaining it." By "no-government men" Thoreau means non-resistants, and here he emphasizes that he turns earnestly away from them. He is now a citizen, not an outlier. He acknowledges the possibility of a government that would command his respect; and he asks that citizens like himself to specify what that sort of government would be, and how the existing government falls short of it. He makes clear that citizens' demands on their government must be based not on the opposition between government and enterprise or between government and character, but on the opposition between government and conscience. "The mass of men serve the State . . . not as men mainly, but as machines, with their bodies. ... A very few, as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great sense, and men serve the State with their consciences also, and so necessarily resist it for the most part; and they are commonly treated by it as enemies. . . ." He also specifies how exactly the existing government fell short of his ideal: one sixth of this allegedly free country's population are slaves "and a whole country is unjustly overrun and conquered by a foreign army." Only when that government does away with slavery and stop waging unnecessary wars, it will command Thoreau's respect. He maintains this position untill the end of the first section of the essay. His resistance in this part of the essay is local rather than global. He is not saying that he separates himself from a state he does not recognize, and shall therefore pay it no tax; instead, he is saying, "I join myself as a citizen to a state I wish to improve, and shall therefore pay it no tax until, wishing to conciliate me, it does away with slavery and stops waging unjust wars."
Thus, Thoreau associates himself with resistence, instead of with non-resistance. This association, not the nonresistant rejection of government or coercion generally, is what has mattered to the activist leaders whom Thoreau has influenced. For instance, Martin Luther King took comfort in Thoreau's essay on the eve of the Montgomery bus boycott: "I remembered how, as a college student, I had been moved when I first read this work. I became convinced that what we were preparing to do in Montgomery was related to what Thoreau had expressed. We were simply saying to the white community, 'We can no longer lend our cooperation to an evil system.'"
Mohandas Gandhi's first important encounter with Thoreau's essay came in 1906, in South Africa; he was then fighting the "Black Act," which required Asians to register with the government and have their fingerprints recorded, as if they were criminals. What Gandhi got from Thoreau was his local resistance — "under a government which imprisons any unjustly, the true place for a just man is also a prison." For non-resistants, anyone imprisoned is unjustly imprisoned; for Thoreau and Gandhi, the crucial distinction is precisely that be- tween just imprisonment and unjust. Gandhi was imprisoned for refusing to register, left prison when the government agreed to make registration for Indians voluntary, and returned to prison for burning registration certificates when the government failed to abide by its agreement.
Thoreau spent the night in prison by accident; a veiled woman brought the money to pay his tax the evening of his arrest, but the jailer had already taken his boots off and said that he wasn't going to put them back on. Thoreau in the essay, though, makes his imprisonment a moral necessity ("Under a government which imprisons any unjustly, the true place for ajust man is also a prison.") He portrays prison as a place of vision, from which it is possible to see social truths ordinarily hidden. Thoreau in the essay links his imprisonment to his voluntary poverty: "I have contemplated the imprisonment of the offender, rather than the seizure of his goods, — though both will serve the same purpose, — because they who assert the purest right, and consequently are most dangerous to a corrupt State, commonly have not spent much time in accumulating property." And that link is important. Tax resisters often sought only to pay money into non-military funds, and sometimes the government punished them only by fining them, its goal after all being chiefly to raise money. Thoreau contributes to a different image of the dissident: not the revolutionary but the ascetic, whose political action is in accord with what we would now call his or her lifestyle.
One can pay the tax and support the state, or refuse the tax and defy the state. Thoreau's civil disobedience is the choice he makes when he has no choice but to act; it is not only action, but necessary action, unwilling action. The tax collector comes to the door, and Thoreau has to choose whether to pay. What he does has much in common with what Rosa Parks did in 1955, when she refused to give up her seat to a white bus rider in Montgomery, Alabama. Rosa Parks committed civil disobedience without going a single step out of her way; in fact, she committed it precisely by trying to proceed along her way, trying not to be arrested but simply to go home.
Interestingly, Thoreau does not associate his action with a position on violence. Tolstoy, Gandhi, and King have of course associated Thoreau's essay with a rejection of violence. Thoreau speaks of a "peaceable revolution" and brilliantly describes an action of non-violence. Moreover, his need to leave room in his life for "other concerns" attracts him to certain nonviolent actions due to their simplicity. But nonviolence is not a first principle for him; it is at most a practical preference. The essay takes almost no position on the matter. Thoreau criticizes the Mexican War not as a war but as an unjust war; he criticizes not prisons, but unjust imprisonments. He says that if we are cheated "out of a single dollar by [our] neighbor . . . [we] take effectual steps at once to obtain the full amount, and see that [we] are never cheated again", and he does not underscore that the effectual steps be nonresistant ones. In the one passage that considers that matter explicitly, he accepts the possibility of violence: "When the subject has refused allegiance, and the officer has resigned his office, then the revolution is accomplished. But even suppose blood should flow. Is there not a sort of blood shed when the conscience is wounded? Through this wound a man’s real manhood and immortality flow out, and he bleeds to an everlasting death. I see this blood flowing now."
Thoreau does not make clear whether the blood that might flow belongs to resisters or slaveholders. What is clear is that Thoreau is willing to have someone's real blood flow, because, in his view, metaphorical blood is flowing already.
Overall, however, it is obvious that Thoreau painstakingly sorted through all of the courses of action available to him, rejecting what he could not use and holding fast to what was good. What has made the essay capable of exerting so great an influence is not only the severity of its ideal but also its concreteness and unapologetic pragmatism.