First World War Centennial

CHAPTER X

DEMOCRACY

In the course of the polemics of the pending war, Democracy has been much emphasized by the politicians. Democ­racy, as a principle of government, has the defects of its virtues. In ancient times it was thought to be fatal to free­dom. In modern times it is generally believed to promote freedom and liberty, but to fail in efficiency. That it is nec­essarily inefficient old-fashioned native Americans deny. It is by no means cer­tain that a democratic republic cannot be made equal to all the exigencies of na­tional life. It is, however, the fact that to Americans of the old school democ­racy means something quite different from the rampant kinds of democracy which many politicians of the present day applaud.

At the foundation of the general Gov­ernment of the United States "democ­racy" stood for a popular government of an ordered and highly conservative kind. To Americans of the old school, democracy, in a glorified sense, conse­quently became almost the equivalent of civil liberty. Such Americans are confi­dent that popular judgment in the end will sustain civil liberty and order and refrain from excesses. This is the prob­lem. Will it? Unfortunately, there is a new theory of democracy coming up in America, a theory which some modern politicians would carry to extremes. If this new school were to triumph, we should have a weak and spasmodic form of democracy, with a government badly adapted to times of stress and confusion. Thus far in its history the United States has proved to the world that a demo­cratic republic may be highly efficient and powerful even in times of war. The new school of democracy deprecates any efficiency for war, and in this respect their departure from a historic creed separates them from the American dem­ocrats of the old school. President Wil­son has recently showed that he has no lasting sympathy with the new school and that he favors a militant democracy of the historic type. It is to be hoped that his present conviction will not again change after peace ensues.

Let us inquire what modern Ameri­cans really mean by democracy. De­mocracy has been defined by Mr. Bal­four as a government in which the ulti­mate control lies with the people. It is obvious that Mr. Balfour's definition is wide enough to embrace a great many forms of government other than repub­lics. In political theory the ultimate control lies with the people in many European kingdoms; but in England above its democracy, is a great political aristocracy which, disguise it as we may, arrogates to itself in some way the su­preme and perpetual direction of the Government. To some modern Ameri­cans the Government of England is therefore not a pure democracy. What most Americans mean by democracy is a government where there are no class distinctions and where the people rule not ultimately, but primarily and all the time. Such was the Jeffersonian con­ception of American democracy. With a simple and homogeneous people such as Americans were at the inception of the republic, that form of democracy worked admirably. As the nation has grown more complex, the art of govern­ment on the principles of democracy has become difficult, and it is less certain that a government in which the people rule all the time is efficient enough to weather the perils which beset nations. What many Americans prize most in their democracy is not, however, the effi­ciency it produces, but the kind of care­less and unrestrained liberty which they associate with their own form of democ­racy. Of the inestimable value of per­fect, ordered liberty there can be no question. The trouble is that perfect, ordered liberty cannot always be pro­tected or even maintained without an efficient government. Thus the pro­found problem for American democracy is, Can democracy organize and main­tain a government sufficiently efficient to assure and protect ordered liberty per­manently? Old-fashioned conservative Americans believe that in time democ­racy can do this. They, however, rarely philosophize about their democracy; they accept it as a perfectly natural and stable institution for a great state. This is a favorable sign, for to be great, a state must be strong and well ordered. To the more than fifty millions of na­tive Americans whose progenitors vol­untarily severed their connections with Europe nearly three centuries ago de­mocracy is not so much a political creed as a mental habit. They were born dem­ocrats and know nothing else. As Henry Clay said, "Monarchy in the American Colonies before the Revolu­tion was only a theory." America was of necessity essentially a democracy from the very beginning. Of aristo­cratic or monarchical institutions co­lonial Americans had no actual experi­ence. With privilege and recognized distinctions of rank they were totally un­familiar. It is significant that present-day Americans remain indifferent to all titles except the military. In America even the signs of authority are rarely visible. With the machinery of their own form of government most Ameri­cans rarely come into contact. They vote at stated times, and they take a more or less active or passive interest in the preliminaries which lead to popular elections for public office; but never through their entire life do most of them come in contact with the high officials of their general Government. In large portions of America even the police, in other countries the most familiar agents of governmental authority, are un­known. Yet all Americans are dimly aware that a great governmental struc­ture exists at Washington, and that at times it exerts a tremendous power, which on the whole they believe is work­ing for the good of the country at large. Only in some vague way do they associ­ate their prosperity and the actual free­dom they enjoy with democracy.

Up to this point of their history it has not been indispensable for Ameri­cans to inquire whether or not democ­racy is the best principle for their coun­try. Let the Government alter ma­terially its relations to the governed, let the nation be utterly vanquished by a foreign enemy, or let a long period of re­tarded development intervene, and the spirit of inquiry concerning the merits of democracy would be easily aroused in America. That the examination would be thorough there is good reason to be­lieve, for the general intelligence of the people of the country is singularly alert when interest and necessity demand final and serious public action. With all its advantages democracy, like all other human institutions, is not without its peculiar defects. It is con­ceded to be inefficient in particulars where more centralized governments are efficient. As Mr. Balfour has lately re­marked, democracies require a very high order of statesmanship to guide them successfully. The main defect of democracies is that they are apt to give rise to a large political class. Democ­racies generally are a paradise for petty politicians. In modern America the professional politicians stand almost apart from the excellent and industrious citizens of the country. It is generally admitted that as a rule they do not as a body now compare favorably with Americans in other vocations. Of course there are exceptions to this rule. A politician is not necessarily a dema­gogue or a corrupt man; but with a formidable part of the American poli­ticians politics is a sort of science of de­mocracy which they pervert for their own purposes. A breach of a private trust is always deplorable and it is gen­erally condemned. When politicians do not consider the welfare of the state or of the country, but the advantage of pub­lic measures to themselves or their party, it is a breach of a public trust. A breach of a public trust is the most serious offense which can be committed against human society. Yet among pol­iticians this offense is not uncommon, and by the public it is often too freely condoned.

It is fortunate that the most eminent public men of America are not its pro­fessional politicians. They are those whose mastery of the science of govern­ment segregates them from the regular politicians of the country. By sheer force of intellectual eminence a few pub­lic men have won in America a recog­nized place in the national councils. Without such men the condition of pub­lic affairs would be hopeless indeed. Fortunately, Americans do not ignore the distinction between their politicians and their statesmen. They honor their statesmen and distrust their politicians. The term "democracy" seems lately to have become in the public discourse of the politicians the equivalent of the term "republic," and yet the terms are far from being equivalents. A republic may exist without democracy, and de­mocracy without a republic. To a re­publican form of government Americans, from the first settlements of North America, are so committed that no other form of government is now either pos­sible or consistent with the national habits and the historical development of the country. A republic flourishes in America because it is the form of gov­ernment best suited to the national hab­its and temper. In America a republic is as much the product of the natural and original conditions of the country as are its fauna and flora. A democratic republic is, in fact, the normal govern­ment of Americans. There is probably not a single American living who does not hope for the perpetuation of the es­tablished government. That no other form of government could at present flourish here is manifest. The prob­lem is, Will the conditions which have long favored democracy continue? Of all the dangers which beset a democratic republic, the greatest is the multitude of demagogues and petty politicians whom popular governments foster. If a radical change shall ever come about in American political institutions,—and history proves that no one form of gov­ernment is perpetual,—it will doubtless be largely due to the abandoned charac­ter and the insincerity of the profes­sional political class. The experience of mankind teaches that under all forms of government the mass of the people is powerless to react against the general perversion of the political class of the country except by a revolution.

A long period of suffering from cor­ruption and inefficiency of the estab­lished republican government in Amer­ica might bring about a change. If through deplorable necessity a change in the constitution of government shall ever become imperative in the long fu­ture of the American nation, it will doubtless be due to the incurable public corruption of the politicians and to the consequent breaking down of the execu­tive, legislative, and judicial institutions established by the Constitution. Their demonstrated incapacity to perform well the true functions of government might suddenly bring about a revolution and change. That there is at present any serious degeneration in American po­litical institutions impartial observers do not detect. The executive continues to be highly intelligent, disinterested, and efficient; the legislative bodies, while not free from all reproach, are in the main fairly representative and seldom corrupt. The Federal judiciary re­mains above all just criticism or re­proach. That the various legislative bodies, the weak spots of the Govern­ment, will in course of time become even more truly representative of the more elevated thought and desires of good and conscientious Americans most of them continue to hope and trust. That there is a modern tendency to chicanery and what the French call chantage savant in American poli­tics some, perhaps not many, elevated Americans are at times forced to sus­pect. If this suspicion should ever ripen into a general conviction, it would be a sign of danger for democracy. The de­fects referred to are not, however, yet sufficiently grave to constitute a menace to existing institutions, but that they are sufficient to constitute a possible danger ahead is not to be ignored. That the problems of the American form of government are sufficiently grave to demand greater attention from the men in public life all Americans out of pub­lic life believe. Before the defects of democracy are entirely eradicated, any attempt to impose American democracy as a system on foreign states may be pre­mature. A recent issue of an American journal, the organ of a religious faith embracing many millions of American citizens, contains a serious and a significant ref­erence to the democracy of the American politicians. This journal pertinently asks "whether the object of democratic governments is the happiness, welfare and progress of a nation, or the mere perpetuation of democratic institutions which systematically neglect any or all of these objects of government." It then proceeds to point out that democ­racy has been tried only by highly civil­ized and enlightened peoples with some measure of success. It admits that de­mocracy has proved up to the present to be the government best suited for Amer­ica, where, although lacking in efficiency, it has justified itself in results. The journal adds in substance: "Democ­racy has not yet been able to impose it­self on the world as a principle, for it is in the experimental stage. It has never yet succeeded with others than enlight­ened and fully civilized peoples." Without the obligation of accepting or denying the truth of this particular con­clusion of the journal in question, a re­flecting reader will at once admit to him­self that it is true that democracy is still on trial as a principle, and he will naturally conclude that any effort on the part of Americans of the present century to impose their own system, however ad­mirable for themselves, on other coun­tries is both premature and in direct con­flict with the leading principle of democ­racy itself. A consistent democracy leaves to the people of every country the right to form their own government, as the English foreign minister, Mr. Bal­four, very lately said, "according to their own ideas, and based on their own history, character, and hopes." The world has a very long history, and that American democracy is even yet in the experimental stage must be admitted by every reflecting man. Until recently American democracy has been conserva­tive and just. The older democracies were not exempt from serious defects. They were not fair to property, and therefore perished. Certain recent dem­ocratic theories of taxation, very much favored by the modern school of demo­crats, have not yet been worked out in America in detail. On the practical re­sults of the application of these theories the ultimate fate of democracy in Amer­ica much depends. If it shall be proved that the new theories stifle individual in­itiative, destroy property and energy, and are subversive of all the arts and the sciences peculiar to high civilization, it will be safe to affirm that either these unjust theories must be quickly aban­doned or else that democracy will not establish itself as a recognized principle for the world. If such fallacious the­ories of taxation are persisted in after being demonstrated unsound, it is safe to affirm that then it will be democracy which will be forced to give way to some other system of government productive of better results to mankind. A system of taxation is dangerous to the stability of government in exact proportion to its injustice. It must be remembered that liberty, freedom, and justice are not in­consistent with forms of government other than democracies. There have been democracies in the past which have subverted both liberty and justice. The great constitutional lawyer, Mr. Justice Story, thought that democracies could maintain themselves only where the people were superior and highly enlight­ened. His conclusion is entitled to some consideration by thoughtful men even in democracies, for he contributed much to­ward the success of the republic insti­tuted by the established democracy of America.

Doubtless Americans are justified thus far in regarding their own political in­stitutions as the best for themselves, for no other form of government has ever produced for so long a period so much happiness among so many people in so great an extent of country. Neverthe­less, it is highly inexpedient for Ameri­can democracy to endeavor to force de­mocracy as a principle at this time on the other nations of the world. No mon­archical nation would be willing to ac­cept its political institutions from a for­eign power. Nor can a foreign country be forced even by a successful war to act against the national predilections, cus­toms, and traditions. Nothing so cer­tainly tends to the perpetuation of mon­archy in Europe at the present time as the proclamation of a democratic power that a particular monarchical country must accept democracy as a principle.

It is to be feared that the American proclamation of democracy as a uni­versal principle of government is dis­quieting to those of our own allies whose regime is aristocratical, if not abso­lutely monarchical. It takes no note of the real strength of European aristocra­cies at the present time. Lord North­cliffe has evidently detected this danger, for he has announced that America is not now fighting for democracy ("Cur­rent Opinion Magazine" for October, 1917). In Europe the aristocracies, while having undergone a great inherent change, still possess a commanding in­fluence in all European states. Some years since a distinguished French writer, Count Melchior de Vogue, well pointed out the radical changes which had taken place in the modern constitu­tions of European aristocracies.

Although aristocracies of any kind may be distasteful to Americans, they ought not to shut their eyes to the fact that the aristocratic classes are in Eu­rope still strongly intrenched and greatly respected by most Europeans. The aristocracies of Europe, however now constituted, are seriously attached to monarchical institutions, which they naturally associate with the ideals that they most cherish in life. In order to abolish monarchy in Europe it will be necessary to uproot the whole social or­der of all European states except Swit­zerland. An American propaganda for democracy outside of America is there­fore inexpedient, as it tends to shock and alienate the aristocratic classes in the various countries of the European allies of America. In Europe the aristocracy as a body is evidently beginning to won­der where the entente with America is leading them, and, if the truth were known, the American proclamation of democracy as a universal principle is be­coming a powerful influence in Europe for a speedy peace. Many Europeans, quite outside of Germany and Austria, begin to see that if the Hapsburgs and the Hohenzollerns are to be forcibly ejected from their hereditary kingdoms, the royal houses of Windsor, Savoy, Spain, Holland, Denmark, and Sweden will soon be expelled. Now, the govern­ing aristocracies of all these countries are by no means ready to abdicate, nor are their kings, whatever Mr. Lloyd George and his followers may have in contemplation for England's particular royalties. It is a formidable undertak­ing for America to attempt to establish a universal democracy on the debris of the last of the thrones of Europe.

Nor can Americans afford to disre­gard the fact that even in republican France there still exists a powerful aris­tocratic class who, while ever loyal to France, never allow themselves in times of peace to come into personal contact with the officialdom of the republic. The old French aristocracy still believe, as Bismarck believed, that a republic is not the most formidable government in a military sense for France. They are convinced that republican politics lead to corruption and tend to weaken France. The old French aristocracy, in other words, do not believe in the principle of democracy. Americans should bear in mind that it is not abso­lutely impossible that in some circum­stances France may yet become a mon­archy and join some future league of the kings. It is quite significant that even the most advanced republican officials in France have had the moderation to rec­ognize that, so long as the existing dem­ocratic institutions of France are not threatened directly from without, the po­litical principles of foreign states should not be provoked by France even in time of war. Concerning the revolution in Russia, official France has been notably reticent. The action of America has been otherwise, and not in accordance with American precedent. A revolution in Russia is not necessarily a democratic manifestation.

After the revolt of the Spanish prov­inces from Spain, the United States thought it decorous to wait five years before any formal recognition of their independence. Whether the future Gov­ernment of Russia, as it shall be ulti­mately reorganized, may not take excep­tion and umbrage to the speedy recogni­tion by America of the Revolution re­mains to be seen. The tendency of the Great War is the justification, doubtless, for the prompt American action toward the Russian Revolution. It would seem unfortunate that it was not possible for America to coöperate with the Russian military authorities in their offensive against Germany without the necessity of a recognition of the Revolution before some form of government that showed greater indications of permanency had been erected in Russia. It is apparent that the Republic of France has been more cautious in its attitude toward the Revolution in Russian, while the democ­racy of England has spoken with hesita­tion. The long holding back in London of the first American despatches from Washington to Russia would seem to in­dicate some doubt on the part of the English authorities about the wisdom of the speedy American endorsement of the Russian Revolution.

So long as the principle of democracy in America is not questioned by Euro­peans, it is impolitic for America to chal­lenge the principle of monarchy in Eu­rope. If Europe becomes restless or re­sentful of American influence, monarchy as a principle will quickly reincorpo­rate itself with the aid of the powerful European aristocracy. It may then con­clude that its own favorite institutions cannot survive if menaced overtly by the American democracy. It is not impos­sible that in that event America will be plagued by a powerful European coali­tion endeavoring to undermine it in all directions. America has no proper con­cern with democracy as a principle of government except in so far as it relates to America. In America democracy has the right and the duty to maintain itself by every means in its power, but it is im­politic for America to project itself un­necessarily against the monarchical pre­dilections and traditions of Europeans. America cannot afford to occupy the po­sition of provocateur of European revo­lutions. It is a maxim that "revolu­tions often react and devour their nurses." The freedom and security of Americans are too important to be jeop­arded by hostile and intrusive asser­tions of Americans that democracy is the only proper governmental principle.

Wise Americans do not forget that democracy has not yet solved in America some of the peculiar problems of popu­lar government which require a longer period of time for their proper solution. The efficient government of great cities on the principle of democracy is only one of the many existing problems of de­mocracy. The comparatively new civic communities in America have not had time to create a civic spirit. It is thought that it takes 500 years to con­solidate and train any civic community. But, whatever the reason may be, thus far democracy has not solved in America the problem of the orderly and the eco­nomic government of great cities. Un­der no other form of government is the administration of great municipalities so bad and so extravagant as it is in America. Unjust and excessive munici­pal assessments and taxation, the ex­ploitation of the municipal resources by designing demagogues, a general waste­ful extravagance, and an ineffective po­lice are familiar spectacles in the larger American cities. These things threaten property and menace the prosperity of the whole country. Peaceable, old-fash­ioned citizens of districts adjacent to large cities in America have been ac­tually ruined by the unjust exploitations of the municipal authorities. Their out­lying lands have been taken from them through unjust assessments fomented by civic political exploiters, and no ade­quate redress has as yet been discovered for this form of municipal injustice. Of all governments the municipal is that which touches most closely the wel­fare of the people, and it is most impor­tant to them that it should be good and efficient.

Until the democratic municipal gov­ernments of America are made far bet­ter, as they doubtless will be and must be in the course of time, American democracy has no complete title to jus­tify itself as a general principle for the world. It is generally admitted that de­mocracy will be able to solve its Munici­pal problems only after a much longer period of time. Meanwhile democracy in America will have problems enough of its own without undertaking to spread democracy as a principle throughout Europe.

The inefficiency of democracy as a principle of government was lately em­phasized by the disclosure of the de­plorable situation of the shipping of the United States. At the outbreak of the present war in 1914 America, with a coast-line far greater than that of any country in Europe and with a large mari­time population once training and send­ing to sea the most skilful sailors in the world, had virtually no merchant ship­ping. Her coast people, who naturally follow the sea, had deserted it. Why this was puzzled thoughtful Americans. It has been suggested that there has long been a great shipping trust, representing all the large European companies, Eng­lish, French, and German alike. It is said that the shipping laws of America have been made in the interest of the for­eign shipping trusts and not in the inter­est of the American nation. It is evi­dent that this explanation ought not to be accepted without proof, for it may be an unjust reflection on Congress. That the destruction of American shipping is due to other causes than corruption in Congress is the better and more conserv­ative opinion. Unfortunately, that ex­planation reflects on the capacity for government of democracy.

With all its defects, educated and in­fluential Americans of the best tradi­tional type believe that democracy is a necessary principle of free government in America. They continue to hope and believe that the manifest defects in the operation of the democratic political in­stitutions of America can and will be obviated in time. But the wisest of them are convinced that the principle of "America for the Americans" is endan­gered by any premature attempt of Americans to impose the principle of democracy at this time on the govern­ments of Europe as a world principle. America is making war against Ger­many not to extend democracy or the peculiar institutions of America, but, as Lord Northcliffe has rightly conjectured, in order to defend American nationality and American freedom against the as­saults of a formidable and unscrupulous foreign enemy. That America will and must succeed in the war admits of no doubt; but in order to succeed it is quite unnecessary for Americans to obscure the plain issue with Germany by the dis­cussion of a political philosophy not yet complete.

The time is doubtless coming in the world when the security of a personal liberty will be a first principle of all governments, no matter what form they may assume. Tyrannies everywhere will pass away forever. Monarchies will be as liberal and as free as republics. A more intelligent and trained public will no longer in any country be deluded by mere oratorical phrases. Govern­ments of all kinds will be recognized as an intricate business, and they will be given over to the most capable, the most efficient, and the best trained. The United States will then form no excep­tion to a universal principle. It will be­come more practical and less idealistic. The demagogues and the visionaries in America will then be required by an in­telligent public to yield their influence to more capable men. Then only will liberty be well ordered and permanent in the world, and democracy triumph as a universal principle. When this comes about there will be no need of an Ameri­can crusade to impose the principles of democracy on the world. The world will then be safe for democracy and de­mocracy safe for the world.

Since America has declared war against Germany the conduct of its de­mocracy has justified the expectations of the most ardent Americans. Democracy in the United States has thus far dis­played a loyalty and a quiet dignity ri­valing France. It has submitted to un­precedented and drastic military meas­ures of the Government without a mur­mur and with a readiness and loyalty not exceeded in the German Empire. With such a citizenship any Government may be well satisfied. This conduct of the American people points to a long reign of order under the republic. But the real test of democracy and republican institutions will come after the war, when the politicians begin again their mischievous appeals for total disarma­ment and for the neglect of our war de­fensive with the hope of capturing a dis­contented and impoverished people. If democracy passes through the ordeal safely, proves conservative, and con­tinues to exhibit an intelligent and ele­vated political outlook, discarding the coming socialistic program of the ex­treme political demagogues, the republic will be safe for a long, a conservative, and an interesting future. It will, how­ever, be compelled to correct that fatal defect of democracies—excessive gov­ernmental extravagance in the wrong di­rection. While America has been able to stand up in the past despite the gross extravagance of its governmental ma­chine, the time is coming when a non­productive - sum in tin

directions will have to cease if democ­racy is to prove permanent. If the at­titude of the American democracy proves as correct toward the notorious

improvidence of the politicians at Wash­ington as it has thus far proved to

the pending war, democracy will have

vindicated itself completely, and the re­public will I a long time to come.