The Full Meaning of Democracy |
[Reprinted from Land and Freedom, March-April, 1934]
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DEMOCRACY, the assertion of the sovereignty and
inviolability of the individual, begins with the French
Revolution and the American war for independence. Its
spokesmen were a few gifted Frenchmen, followed by
Jefferson, Franklin and Paine. It did not begin under
very promising auspices. The United States began by
adopting most of the legendary superstitions of the old
world, like slavery and the protective tariff, as corner
stones of the new edifice. It was quite as tenacious of
privilege as the old Europe from which it had broken away,
despite Paine, whom we have not yet begun to understand.
NEVERTHELESS, democracy lumbered along in an
ineffectual way for nearly three quarters of a century
from the Confederation to the Civil War. This
despite the extraordinary powers lodged in the Chief Executive,
and the archiac mode of his selection. Following the Civil War
democracy was powerless to effect an
interruption of the insidious processes in which gigantic
monopolies grew through the influence of a fostering tariff
and railroad grants of land, great in area as empires. The
concentration of wealth helped to create industrial dictators
who dominated legislatures and in many cases
controlled the judiciary. Democracy and all it connotes
were chiefly useful in furnishing material for Fourth of
July orations.
DEVICES of democracy which, it was hoped, would
advance the cause of popular government, the direct
primary, commission government, popular election of
senators, et al., came and went and left not a wrack behind; democracy
seemed powerless to make its instruments
effective.
IF democracy is merely a toy with which the people amuse
themselves while privilege rules triumphant, then is
some stronger form of government needed to replace a
system in which universal suffrage is demonstrably fifty
per cent ineffectual, since only a small proportion exercise
the privilege at all, and the fifty per cent that concern
themselves with government seem to lack the necessary
vigilance to prevent nation-wide abuses, then it is time
to revise our notions of democracy and our entire political
philosophy.
The chief requirements of any well ordered society is
* that the people should care. Look around and ask
yourself how much do they care. Their attitude toward
political corruption is one of cynical indifference and
toward economic and governmental problems an uninquiring
ignorance. Men who will grow eloquent over
automobiles and radios, when the tariff is mentioned
mumble a few commonplaces or stupid shibboleths, or
pure absurdities borrowed from the platforms of one or
other of the old political parties, and then hastily drop
the discussion.
NOR is the case greatly different with your college
and university graduate. Government, and the
problems with which it must deal is the least of his
concern as it has been the least of his studies. If he
remembers anything he has learned of political economy it is
rarely or never the principles of the science, since he has
probably been taught that there are no principles of
universal application, but only rules of expediency. What
he has learned may fit him for a professional or business
career, but in most cases he graduates as little fitted for
citizenship as a Fiji islander. What wonder that he has
no intellectual curiosity about government and soon lapses
into indifference? Presidential elections are only sporting
events in which he takes the same interest that he does
in horse racing or football. But that these should turn
upon matters of real concern to the nation, that there are
grave problems that need to be solved at such times, and
that government is the agency which should act in solving
them these considerations rarely occur to him. His
"politics," in which he exhibits a quite childish pride, is
delightfully free from any attempt to get down to hard
thinking about it.
NOR is the philosophy of present day writers likely
to aid him. Of a piece with university thinking,
most of them have little concern with moral principles.
There are no moral principles that are unvarying; they
are national, climatic or expedient, as fits the case; the
Decalogue is an elastic yard measure, variously applied.
He hears of pragamatism, behaviourism, and other isms,
but that there are any ethical laws to which human conduct
in society must conform or suffer the consequences,
he is in utter ignorance. Nobody teaches it, so his
democracy drifts a derelict on the political sea.
HOW account for what seems to the eyes of many the
obvious failure of democracy? It is curious that
the political philosophers who with unseemly haste
assume that democracy is now ready for burial, never
consider what would give Demos a new lease of life. They
stop with the shallow sophistry of George Bernard Shaw
that it is idle to expect the audience to run the show, as
if this were a perfect analogy.
IDOPULAR sovereignty has broken down because democracy
has been called upon to bear more than it can
sustain. It has broken down because its organizers have
assumed that it could safely concern itself with all
departments of human activity. They did not see that it was
functionally limited to a few matters of social concern.
This can easily be seen in the case of Italy where fascism
is the direct result of socialistic inefficiency which broke
down under the load it was forced to carry. It behooves
us to see if our own government does not present a
similar analogy, though the consequences will not be the
same everywhere. A high mettled thoroughbred has been
asked to do the work of a dray horse.
THERE are certain things that political society or
government must not do; there are certain things it
cannot do. Its activities of late under the Roosevelt
administration have been concerned mostly with the latter.
We have therefore had little time to consider the things
we ought to do. The faith in government held by the
average individual is at the bottom of our troubles. "Pass
a law" that is the remedy for every difficulty that suggests
itself to the average citizen. It is not realized that
government is functionally limited to the things it
may do.
Is not the individual something? Has he no rights that
may be left to him, no matters that are his own concern,
no temptations by which he may grow strong and develop
his character in resisting? Has not the individual stripped
himself of every democratic initiative? How then expect
the political democracy he has erected to be truly democratic?
THERE are other and more important impediments
to democracy. Our whole economic system is one
of privilege. Government is bound up with it. Every
senator is not merely a representative of the people of
his state; he is the representative of some special interest,
some monopoly, some big business seeking government
favors. Senators are Railroad, Wheat, or Iron, or Cotton,
or Silver Senators. And this not deliberately nor venally
always, but actually because of the close partnership of
government with privilege. The corrupting influence
of the tariff, for one thing, is over all, a slimy trail.
DEMOCRACY is possible only where men are free;
a political democracy is feasible only where it limits
its activities to matters that are within its province and
where the individual is left free to work out his own salvation. "That
government is best which governs least"
is not all of it; in those things which are governmental
it must govern absolutely. The whole fabric of society
needs to be placed under a rigid analysis to discover why
the hope of democracy has in so large a measure eluded
us.
The answer will be discovered in the two reasons which
we have indicated, that democracy has been over-weighted, that institutions are unjust,
and that government has been corrupted by privilege. In this country
we have proceeded on the assumption that government
is unlimited in scope, whereas it is strictly conditioned.
Democracy cannot be yoked with privilege and still be
free to function. The expectation is falacious.
THOUGH forms of government do not greatly matter, it is
still true that political institutions borrow their
status from the kind of economic freedom that prevails
their character as well as their duration and stability.
That is what Henry George meant when he said that the
condition of progress is "association in equality." Political
equality is not possible without the economic background
of association in equality.
DEMOCRACY therefore has a much wider application than is given to it in current discussion
about forms of government. Until one man can look
another in the face, until it is no longer necessary to be
the boon of work, to sue his fellow man for a job, will
political democracy, or democracy of any kind, be possible.
For this reason Single Taxers beat the air when they concern
themselves with forms of government, city management, direct primaries,
and sundry devices to the neglect
of the only change that makes democracy attainable.
THE growth of fascism and communism alike is attributable to economic conditions. Fascism
is the hallmark of
unconscious resistance of the House of Have to the claims of
of the disinherited. Communism is a different sort of resistance
to the same condition of landless men. Fascism
is instinctive. It could never find lodgment even in
society of half free men. It is lower than monarchy because
it springs from a deeper degree of slavery; it lacks
the popular appeal of a monarchial form of government;
it is far less responsive to real public wrongs. It tolerates
nothing that is not to its own glory and substitutes for
possible kindly sovereign a figure that grows more and
more of a soulless abstraction representing the state.
This statement may be enforced by an understanding of
the different way in which several European leaders are
regarded. For example, King George is loved, Hitler
and Mussolini are feared.
But to talk democracy to men who are economic slaves,
who must beg the boon of work, or who must subsist
upon charity, is a ghastly mockery. To ask of men deprived
of power to control their own affairs that they
participate in the business of government, is a joke, but
a sardonic joke. From the substratum of social misery,
which is the lot of the majority of men, we may with
absolute certainty trace the rise of fascism in Germany
and Italy, the decay of liberalism in Great Britain and the
decline of democracy in America.
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