If We Save Democracy, Will It Save Us?
Examining the cause of "saving democracy" from a historical perspective.
THOMAS JEFFERSON: The same political parties which now agitate the U.S. have existed through all time… The same question which now divides our own country will continue through all future time: that everyone takes his side in favor of the many, or of the few.
THE IMPERFECTION OF WORDS
The English Enlightenment philosopher John Locke dedicated Book III in An Essay Concerning Human Understanding to language, with a particular focus on “the imperfection of words.” Locke wrote, “The very nature of words makes it almost inevitable that many of them should be doubtful and uncertain in their meanings.”
One modern example of this phenomenon exists in the constant references to the evils of “capitalism” vs. the evils of “socialism” that we hear from the populist-left and populist-right respectively.1 Some hear the word “capitalism” and think of innovation, entrepreneurialism, and upward mobility; while others immediately think of exploitation, inequality, and greed. And it could be persuasively argued that both definitions are equally true depending on what aspects of “capitalism” you decide to focus on.
And good luck trying to find two identical definitions of what “socialism” now means. After all, most modern “socialists” are not literally calling for complete state control over the “means of production,” but rather a strong, social welfare state a la the countries in Scandinavia (which are all capitalist). Bernie Sanders and AOC have both advocated this model, and it’s a model that would probably be more accurately described as “progressive” rather than “socialist.” Because if having a substantive social welfare state is what accounts for “socialism” now, then we would have to concede that even Teddy Roosevelt was a radical socialist when he headed the Progressive Party in 1912.
When I first studied the anarchist movements of the late 19th and early 20th century, I was quite surprised to discover that their philosophy was essentially libertarianism on steroids. What was even more intriguing was that the anarchists frequently used the term “libertarian” to describe themselves in their own literature. It was not until the 1950s that the “conservatives” (who would no longer be recognizable to today’s “conservatives”) appropriated the word “libertarian” for themselves. Which they did partially as revenge for having the term “liberal” (which originated from “classical liberalism”) appropriated by Franklin D. Roosevelt, who used it as a descriptor for his New Deal policies in order to avoid having the “conservatives” attempt to label those policies as “socialist.”
So, in summation: the anarchists are actually libertarians; the libertarians are actually liberals; the liberals are actually progressives; and the progressives are now calling themselves socialists because it’s trending.
IT’S THE PEOPLE, STUPID
On September 1st, President Joe Biden gave a speech attempting to rally “Democrats, independents, and mainstream Republicans” to the cause of defending democracy in the “battle for the soul of the nation.” Biden’s speech was clearly (and unfortunately) directed primarily at galvanizing turnout for the 2022 midterms, but it was also invoking the oft-discussed struggle between autocracy vs. democracy happening around the world today. Unfortunately, that contest has now become such a normalized part of our zeitgeist, that most Americans seem to view it as mere background noise in an exceedingly noisy environment.
The first thing we should note in the battle of democracy vs. autocracy, is that while there are many true autocrats in the world today (Kim Jong-Un, Mohammed bin Salman, Xi Jinping, Ayatollah Khamenei) most of the autocrat’ish leaders that get referenced in this current debate are ones who obtained their power through legitimate democratic elections: Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil, Viktor Orban in Hungary, Narendra Modi in India, AMLO Obrador in Mexico, or Rodrigo Duterte of the Philippines (and we have yet to see what the future holds for figures like Giorgia Meloni in Italy or Marine Le Pen in France).
In many cases, there are also autocratic leaders who no longer allow free and fair elections, but still managed to initially come to power through legitimate democratic elections. This includes Vladimir Putin in Russia or Recep Tayyip Erdoğan in Turkey (or the late Hugo Chavez of Venezuela) — and of course, there is the infamous example of how Adolf Hitler came to power in 1933.
When Hitler first attempted to seize power by brute force in the 1923 Beer Hall Putsch it ended up being as much of a tragic farce as the January 6th Capitol riot. Fourteen Nazis and four police officers were killed, and Hitler was sentenced to five years in prison. Initially, most Germans believed that his political career was over (as did Hitler himself). Yet just one decade later, the Nazis finally found their way to power – not through armed insurrection but through the ballot box.
Americans often have trouble confronting our own orthodoxy. It may be difficult for us to imagine that “democracy” is as much a part of the problem as it is a part of the solution. That democracy has just as often been autocracy’s handmaiden, as it has been a bulwark against it. In recent years, our society has become more and more “democratized,” and it has led to the political polarization of institutions as diverse as the church, law enforcement, schools, entertainment, and the courts.
The “democratization” of our political parties (especially in our primaries) has allowed anti-democratic and populist politicians to obtain more and more power in government. The narratives that fuel those politicians, and their voters, have managed to gain strength via the “democratization” of our media. Social media always takes the brunt of the blame for this, but at this point, there is no part of the mainstream (or even the not-so-mainstream) media that is left untouched by the dialogue happening in the “democratic” online space. In other words: What happens on Twitter does not stay on Twitter.
THE THREE PILLARS
VOLTAIRE: Divide mankind into twenty parts – nineteen consist of men who work with their hands and will never know that there is a Locke in the world, and in the remaining twentieth part how few men will you find who are readers! And of those who read, twenty read novels to one who studies philosophy. The number of those who think is exceedingly small, and they are not interested in upsetting the world.
MONTESQUIEU: The principle of democracy is corrupted not only when the spirit of equality is extinct, but likewise when they fall into a spirit of extreme equality – when each citizen would fain be upon a level with those whom he has chosen to command him. Then the people, incapable of bearing the very power they have delegated, want to manage everything themselves, to debate for the senate, to execute for the magistrate, and to decide for the judges, who all cease to be revered.
ROUSSEAU: If there were a nation of Gods, it would govern itself democratically. A government so perfect is not suited to men.
Although I find a lot to admire in the Enlightenment philosophes of the 18th century, I won’t try to deny that they were a tad too elitist for my tastes. Voltaire felt an “enlightened” monarch was a better defender of the common people than democracy (although so did Alexander Hamilton and John Adams at times); Rousseau was not interested in allowing women to participate in political life alongside men (although it is difficult to name any American Founder who did either, other than perhaps Aaron Burr); and in that same passage I referenced by Montesquieu he also ranted that such a lack of deference by the masses would make “the trouble of command be as fatiguing as that of obedience. Wives, children, slaves will shake off all subjection.”
I should note that Thomas Jefferson also engaged in similar rhetoric as Montesquieu when he lumped women, slaves, and infants into the same category, as a means to explain why none of them were suitable to be part of the citizenry. Yet Jefferson was also the biggest supporter of democracy among our most well-known Founding Fathers. Of course, such contradictions are nothing new, as both history and people are always way more complicated than you think they will be. After all, Hamilton was not actually a monarchist (and Adams even less so), and Aaron Burr was certainly no angel even if he was way ahead of his time on women’s rights.
If we look closely at the views of the Founders and the Enlightenment philosophes on “democracy,” we will quickly see that Locke’s “imperfection of words” plays a significant part in the ability of politicians and editorialists to twist the legacy of our Founders in whatever direction best suits their political objectives. I am always reminded of when one professor told my class in college, “People love to cite Thomas Jefferson, because he said everything.”
There is even a new breed of Republicans that is now rejecting our nation’s democratic legacy by resurrecting the age-old adage that “America is a republic, not a democracy!” And to be clear, that is technically true; but it is also true that we have always been a democratic-republic. The question of just how “democratic” we want this republic to be has been one of the primary questions each successive generation of Americans has had to grapple with, and each generation has consistently pushed us further and further in the democratic direction.
So it is worth noting that when you hear Biden, Trump, or anyone else refer to our “democracy” today, they are indeed referring to our democratic brand of republican government. There is no contradiction in the modern vernacular between those two words. In fact, if you look up the modern dictionary definitions of both “republic” and “democracy” right now, you will see virtually the same definition: a government where the power resides with the people, as exercised through elections [democratic] to determine representation [republic]. As the Massachusetts Federalist Fisher Ames once commented, our government is republican but our people our democratic, and the two have to pull each other into some kind of equilibrium.2
When pro-democratic figures of the Founding era like Thomas Jefferson and Thomas Paine were referring to “democracy,” they were not actually promoting direct democracy as it was practiced in ancient Athens. Rather they contrasted the “perfected” democracy of the American republic with the admirable, yet flawed, democratic system of Athens:
THOMAS JEFFERSON: So different was the state of society then, and with those people, from what it is now and with us, that I think little edification can be obtained from their writings on the subject of government… The full experiment of a government that is democratical, but representative, was and is still reserved for us… The introduction of this new principle of representative democracy has rendered useless almost everything written before on the structure of government. My most earnest wish is to see the republican element of popular control pushed to the maximum of its practicable exercise.
THOMAS PAINE: Simple democracy [of Athens] was society governing itself without the aid of secondary means. By ingrafting representation upon democracy, we arrive at a system of government capable of embracing and confederating all the various interests and every extent of territory and population… It is on this system that the American government is founded. It is representation ingrafted upon democracy… What Athens was in miniature America will be in magnitude.3
On the other hand, when other Founders staunchly criticized “democracy,” they were either referencing the “democratical” spirit growing amongst the people (aka: populism) or they were specifically criticizing the direct democracy of the ancient world. The latter of which they would place it in the context of the three pillars of government derived from classical works: The one (monarchy), the few (aristocracy), and the many (democracy). These three pillars were also the model adopted for our own system of government in the form of the presidency (the one), the Senate (the few), and the House (the many).4
The three pillars have been known to manifest in many iterations throughout history: some positive, some negative. “The one” can be a benevolent ruler; or it can be a despot or tyrant (an autocrat if you will). “The few” can be what the Founders referred to as a “natural aristocracy,” a meritocracy where the best and brightest excel and work to benefit society; or it can be nepotism, oligarchy, plutocracy, et al. “The many” can be honest citizens demanding justice, liberty, and equality; or they can be a conspiracy-driven mob that simply wants to “burn it all to the ground” (and maybe put a few heads on pikes).
JOHN ADAMS: Monarchy will still study to rival nobility in popularity; Aristocracy will continue to envy all above it, and despise and oppress all below it; Democracy will envy all, contend with all, endeavor to pull down all; and when by chance it happens to get the upper hand for a short time, it will be revengeful, bloody, and cruel.
JAMES MADISON: Not only theoretical writers as Plato, but more practical ones as Swift, etc. remark that the natural rotation in government is from the abuses of monarchy to aristocracy; from the oppression of aristocracy to democracy; and from the licentiousness of democracy back to monarchy.
ALEXANDER HAMILTON: Real liberty is neither found in despotism or the extremes of democracy, but in moderate governments… If we incline too much to democracy, we shall soon shoot into a monarchy.
One should note that these Founding critiques of democracy are also a bit more moderate than they have sometimes been portrayed. The Founders sometimes get labeled by a certain sect of writers as unabashed “elitists” who were simply disdainful of the common people. However, their writings show them to be just as concerned about the pitfalls of monarchy and aristocracy, as they were about the trappings of democracy.
John Adams once wrote to a friend, “You say, sir, that I have gravely counted up several victims of popular rage as proofs that democracy is more pernicious than monarchy or aristocracy. This is not my doctrine. My opinion is and always has been that absolute power intoxicates alike despots, monarchs, aristocrats, and democrats.” This comment may help explain why Adams was just as worried about the excessive “democracy” of the French Revolution, as he was about the potential for oligarchy to subsume American democracy.
These Founders all had fierce disagreements with one another, but they were rather consistent in contending that there is no such thing as a perfect system of government. They understood that all systems have deep flaws within them, and all systems will inevitably do wrong to some segment of the population. Just as they understood that endeavoring to correct these inequities in the system was going to be an ongoing and never-ending process.
THE TWO THEMES
There are generally two major themes you will see repeated in the Founding era criticisms of “democracy.” One of these was the belief that the common people were far too susceptible to disinformation and misinformation (sounds oddly familiar). In Madison’s notes on the Constitutional Convention, Roger Sherman of Connecticut contended, “The people should have as little to do as may be about the government. They want [for] information and are constantly liable to be misled.”
Elbridge Gerry of Massachusetts then seconded this notion by confirming that “the evils we experience flow from the excess of democracy.” Gerry also stated,“It had been fully confirmed by experience that [the people] are daily misled into the most baneful measures and opinions by the false reports circulated by designing men, and which no one on the spot can refute.”
George Mason of Virginia took a slightly more balanced approach when he “admitted that we had been too democratic but was afraid we [might] incautiously run into the opposite extreme.”
As I alluded to previously, much of what these figures are describing here sounds more akin to modern definitions of “populism” than “democracy.” Although I want to fully acknowledge that there can be positive iterations of populism, as well as negative ones. As George Mason noted, one must be careful not to become too dismissive of the people’s grievances, even if those grievances have the potential to be weaponized by “designing men.”
These “designing men” are also representative of the second major theme found in these critiques: The belief that there will inevitably be a demagogue who will rise up and seek to fill the vacuum left behind when democracy becomes too chaotic and/or ineffectual. When the people not only develop an unending hatred for the “elites,” but also feel powerless to do anything about it. That is when some figure sees the opportunity to step forward like Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones and say, “I will be your champion.”
Being someone who came of age at the apex of American hegemony after the end of the Cold War, I was raised to believe that both democracy and the Founding Fathers represented all that was good and noble about America. For that reason, I was a bit taken aback when I first read these criticisms of “democracy” from the great men of American history… but then the 2016 presidential race happened. It was then that I came to appreciate their warnings in a way I had not previously. In particular, this passage from Alexander Hamilton (written in a letter to George Washington) echoed in my mind:
ALEXANDER HAMILTON: The truth unquestionably is, that the only path to a subversion of the republican system of the country is, by flattering the prejudices of the people, and exciting their jealousies and apprehensions, to throw affairs into confusion, and bring on civil commotion. Tired at length of anarchy, or want of government, they may take shelter in the arms of monarchy for repose and security.
When a man unprincipled in private life, desperate in his fortune, bold in his temper, possessed of considerable talents, having the advantage of military habits—despotic in his ordinary demeanor—known to have scoffed in private at the principles of liberty—when such a man is seen to mount the hobby horse of popularity—to join in the cry of danger to liberty—to take every opportunity of embarrassing the general government and bringing it under suspicion—to flatter and fall in with all the nonsense of the zealots of the day—It may justly be suspected that his object is to throw things into confusion that he may “ride the storm and direct the whirlwind.”
MAJORITIES RULE BUT THEY DON’T EXIST
John Adams once told Thomas Jefferson that his “steady defense of democratic principles, and your invariably favorable opinion of the French Revolution laid the foundation of your unbounded popularity.” Adams saw that democracy in America was on the rise in the early 19th century, and he understood that those such as himself who had not unquestioningly heralded its coming would likely see their legacies suffer. However, legacies are like majorities – they constantly shift (just look at the state of Jefferson’s legacy today).
Adams was no more alone in his views than Jefferson was in his, it was just that Jefferson’s vision had won the day with the American electorate (for the moment anyway). As George C. Scott’s George Patton once said, “Americans love a winner, and will not tolerate a loser.”
I would not be the first to note that the toxic state of our politics is nothing new in American history, but it is unfortunate that we frame it a bit too simplistically in terms of left vs. right. Because it gives the false impression that our nation is neatly split in two. Yet I would challenge anyone to find a single moment in history when a true 50%-plus majority was ever on the same side of any issue or conflict.
John Adams is often credited with describing how the American colonists at the dawn of the American Revolution were divided into thirds: a third for, a third against, and a third neutral. Now, I will note that the general consensus among historians has been that roughly 40% were for it, 20% against it, and 40% neutral; but those estimates hardly even matter since Adams’ quote was actually about the French Revolution, not the American Revolution:
JOHN ADAMS: If I were called to estimate the divisions among the People of America, as Mr [Edmund] Burke did those of the People of England; I should say that one full third were averse to the [French] Revolution. These retaining that over weaning fondness in which they had been educated for the English, could not cordially like the French, indeed they most heartily detested them. An opposite third, conceived a hatred of the English and gave themselves up to an enthusiastic gratitude to France. The middle third composed principally of the yeomanry, the soundest part of the nation, and always averse to war, were rather lukewarm both to England and France.
I think it is important to remember this rule of thirds when thinking about democracy in America today, because our two-party system tends to give the people a false impression of “majority” rule. When we discuss the results of elections, we always discuss the percentage of the vote a candidate received. Rarely do we talk about the percentage of the electorate a candidate received, which is a far more accurate measure of their democratic support.
In the 2020 presidential election, when we had the highest voter turnout in over a century, Joe Biden got 34.3% of the electorate, Donald Trump received 31.4% (yes he did), and 33.1% of eligible voters chose “none of the above.” Which is not even taking into account how many of those who did vote for Biden or Trump did not truly support them, but simply hated the other guy more.
In addition, if we look at the trend in voter turnout in modern presidential elections before 2020, the “none of the above” segment of the electorate typically beat out the winner by a sizable margin. Non-voters averaged 43.4% of the electorate from 1980 to 2016, whereas the highest portion of the electorate by a presidential winner in that time was when Ronald Reagan got 31.3% in his landslide reelection of 1984.
The (until recent) predominance of non-voters in American elections makes one wonder if a majority of the people would prefer to live in a society that does not require them to take part in a democratic process that they find increasingly distasteful. That (as Voltaire claimed) they are “not interested in upsetting the world,” and would simply prefer a “return to normal” (if there ever was such a thing). Whereas, recent years would also make it appear that the most zealous and dogmatic (or opportunistic) members of our society can often be the most eager to participate in a democracy – whether it be from the inside through politics, or from the outside through protest and activism.5
Admittedly, there is something to be said for “governing like you have a mandate” once elected, but there is also something to be said for having the humility to realize that no party, faction, or president ever truly has majority support in a truly democratic system. The people are too diverse and complex for such a thing to occur. This is why democracy can only survive through cooperation and compromise (“Coexist, or Die”). Short of that, the only way to “fix” democracy is to go to war with its enemies (whomever you perceive those enemies to be). This endless back-and-forth of our election outcomes is clearly not going to solve the problem.
I often worry that the mistake we made in 2016 was thinking of Trump as the culmination of something we just weren’t paying attention to. That he was the final act of a play we did not even realize we were a part of, and if only we could get past him the story would be allowed to come to a peaceful conclusion. But perhaps the reason we were so surprised in 2016 was because it was the opening act of the story, not the final one. That Donald Trump was not Julius Caesar, he was Sulla. The harbinger of what was to come in another ten, twenty, thirty — maybe even a hundred years. Because if our democracy remains on its current path, Americans may soon come to believe it has become necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another.
PS: I inadvertently stumbled on some very interesting articles / podcasts on Polybius’ theory of anacyclosis that led me to write a “sequel” of sorts to this piece, which you can read here.
Interestingly, in the years of the American Revolution, “democracy” sometimes acted as a stand-in for how “socialism” is used today. By that I mean that it was the radical ideal that was promoted by radical actors who felt this new approach to government would correct all the flaws and inequities of the old “status quo.” Meanwhile, it was an approach that terrified conservatives, who felt such a system would totally upend society and send it into a tailspin. And in both cases, it is possible they were both a tad too optimistic / pessimistic in the way they viewed its outcomes.
This interesting passage from a 1755 debate between the colonial Governor of Pennsylvania and the Pennsylvania state legislature also illustrates how “democracy” could be weaponized in the same way “socialism” is today, forcing people to defend themselves against any charge of promoting the dreaded d-word. Not unlike how Joe Biden had to give a speech in the 2020 campaign proclaiming, “Do I look like a radical socialist?”
The Governor is pleased to say that “we might as well set up a democracy at once, as claim an exclusive right to the disposition of public money.” To this, we beg leave to answer, that though we are not so absurd as to “design a democracy,” of which the Governor is pleased to accuse us; yet in this particular, all our late attempts to raise money “for the common security of the people,” being obstructed and defeated by the Governor’s having a voice in that matter, would rather induce us to think, that such a conduct in a Governor, appears to us the most likely thing in the world to make people incline to a democracy, who would otherwise never have dreamt of it.
It is also interesting that this tidbit comes from pre-revolution Pennsylvania, since that state was famous for later adopting a “radically democratic” state constitution in 1776 that was extremely controversial at the time.
Full disclosure: This quote is paraphrased from some of my old notes taken during my studies many years ago. I was unable to locate the original source from where I first came across it.
Emphasis was added on both of these quotes.
In today’s context, support for “the few” or “the many” is comprehensible to most people, but the idea of a return to reliance on “the one” seems very far removed from our modern American mindset. It is important to remember that the absolutist monarchs of the 18th century had come about at least in part as a way of restoring order in the wake of the wars of religion. So there was a legitimate precedent for the people seeing monarchs as capable of stabilizing society, and of providing for the well-being of all their subjects (even the poor) if they took their duties seriously.
This is why it took so long for both the Americans and the French to finally turn against their kings. Many could imagine that by doing such, they would return society to the days of bloody anarchy in the 16th century. And this did in fact happen in France, and I don’t think many Americans appreciate just how close we came to it happening here too in the 1780s and 1790s.
There was actually a large contingent in the Constitutional Convention that wanted a popular vote for the president (this faction was mainly in conflict with a contingent that wanted Congress to choose the president), and that support for a popular vote was just as much about empowering “the one” as it was about empowering “the many.”
It could create a presidency that was essentially a democratic monarch instead of a hereditary monarch (and obviously I’m using the term “monarch” loosely here). In that way, the president would be required to behave as a “monarch” was supposed to behave: in the service of his people. Protecting their interests instead of his own, since the people directly controlled his fate.
James Wilson was the de facto leader of the popular vote faction, and I should note that many historians feel that Wilson deserves to be at least as recognized as James Madison in contributing to framing of the Constitution. Ironically, Wilson also became the main proponent of the Electoral College compromise (although the form it takes today was nothing like what was put forth at the Constitutional Convention), and he was by no means a true supporter of democracy. He even helped to repeal that “radically democratic” 1776 state constitution of Pennsylvania in 1790.
Wilson had noted that the generation after the American Revolution were opposed to strong executives and against centralized government because they had just participated in a rebellion against that very “status quo.” However, Wilson’s older generation was raised with a king and saw a strong, central government (and a strong executive) as being more capable of preventing wrongdoings than a “corrupt multitude” in the legislature. Because it was the corruption of the British Parliament, not King George III, that had really galvanized support for the American Revolution. It was a newer breed of radicals (often younger, but not always) that had taken the American Revolution a step further toward overthrowing monarchy.
Wilson even wanted a popular vote for Senators (Senators were initially chosen by state legislatures until the Seventeenth Amendment was ratified in 1913). He trusted the people more than he trusted state legislatures, because he saw in the latter the potential to be as self-interested as the British Parliament had been. At the Constitutional Convention he said, “On examination it would be found that opposition of states to federal measures had proceeded much more from the offices of states [the state legislatures] than from the people at large.”
These abstractions can be hard to follow (since every individual ultimately holds views unique to themselves), but it does help explain why the “conservative” Federalists were for a strong, central government (which is now associated with the left); while the “radical” Jeffersonian Republicans had a small-government, proto-libertarian perspective (which we now associate with the right). Because what was once “radical” becomes “conservative” once it has prevailed. Just as what was once “revolutionary” will eventually become the “status quo,” should the revolution emerge victorious.
It should go without saying (but given the modern environment, I think I have to say it) that I am not condemning all Americans who participate in politics, protest, or activism as being zealous and dogmatic (or opportunistic). No group of people is a monolith, and I have always found both good and bad actors in any part of society I encountered. But I’ll still allow myself to be controversial and say that there is something about the hard-scrabble, conflict-driven environment of democracy that can naturally attract some rather unsavory elements of society.