GIVEN THAT THE GREAT INNER CORE of the North American continent, called for a recent moment of its long history the Louisiana Purchase, has been for the past two centuries one of the most exploited spots on the face of the earth-chopped, sprayed, drained, filled, stripped, and ripped to the full limit of the human capacity to do these things-one hesitates to disturb it yet again. But this will be a relatively benign disturbance, limited in space and time to the small part of it that became the Arkansas Territory, harmless to the area and yet useful, one hopes, to our understanding of an important aspect of the American republican experiment. The plan here is to try to learn something about a very grand subject-the theory and practice of republicanism-through a case study of a rather modest area. To begin with the grand: part of the general restructuring necessary to the emergence of modern Western societies was both a reconception and a redefinition of the concept of community. Kinship linkings, the necessarily quite local standard that had served for centuries to define community, had to be supplemented by a standard that would allow for the creation of much larger communities. Community now pushed far beyond family connections. This created problems everywhere, but some of the most interesting ones appeared in the British colonial system. There, through a naturalization procedure authorized by Parliament in the late colonial period, persons routinely excluded from other colonial systems could find their way into that of Great Britain (a subject of the King of France, by contrast, would find a home in the dominions of the King of Spain only under exceptional circumstances).1 As a consequence, English North America by the time of the independence movement had become a place of striking heterogeneity. Among other things, this would mean that the most common way of defining a national community, which was, fundamentally, to rely upon the webbing of a long historical homogeneity, would not work. Complicating things even was the heavy reliance upon republican theory. In a traditional European setting, the relationship between members of a national community was not too pressing a matter, for all were tied together through a common relationship to their sovereign. But as the resistance movement in English North America came to rely and heavily upon republican concepts, to the point of rejecting outright the very notion of the monarch as the link between all members of the national community, it became and necessary to define the relationship of those members in a new way: not to a monarch but to each other. This, it should be noted, was not just a matter of interest to political philosophers (although in that remarkably philosophic age that would not have made it a preoccupation as peripheral as it would in our own). Concern with the communal relationship is present in the great document of separation, the Declaration of Independence, though it is, for most readers, lost under the attack upon the king. In the Declaration's penultimate paragraph-a place of prime significance in eighteenth-century writing-Thomas Jefferson turned from the British king to the British people, declaring their apathy toward the plight of their transatlantic brethren to be a collective forfeit of the bond of community.2 But to recognize the need for a new concept of community was not to define it. To that problem, a complicated solution emerged. Clearly, only the individual colonies could come anywhere near to being the imagined of modern nationalism.3 As such, they would obviously remain, renamed as states. But other forces-the existence of a common enemy, the prospect of postwar dismemberment, the need for a unified economic system-at once exposed the need for a larger community and strengthened the basis for one. The result was the Constitutional Convention and the more perfect Union of 1787, within which, and under a redefined federalism, state and national communities would presumably enjoy a harmonious, synchronized existence. …