THE most striking thing about the founders of modern democracy such as James Madison and John Stuart Mill is how hard-headed they were. They regarded democracy as a powerful but imperfect mechanism: something that needed to be designed carefully, in order to harness human creativity but also to check human perversity, and then kept in good working order, constantly oiled, adjusted and worked upon.
The need for hard-headedness is particularly pressing when establishing a nascent democracy. One reason why so many democratic experiments have failed recently is that they put too much emphasis on elections and too little on the other essential features of democracy. The power of the state needs to be checked, for instance, and individual rights such as freedom of speech and freedom to organise must be guaranteed. The most successful new democracies have all worked in large part because they avoided the temptation of majoritarianism—the notion that winning an election entitles the majority to do whatever it pleases. India has survived as a democracy since 1947 (apart from a couple of years of emergency rule) and Brazil since the mid-1980s for much the same reason: both put limits on the power of the government and provided guarantees for individual rights.
Robust constitutions not only promote long-term stability, reducing the likelihood that disgruntled minorities will take against the regime. They also bolster the struggle against corruption, the bane of developing countries. Conversely, the first sign that a fledgling democracy is heading for the rocks often comes when elected rulers try to erode constraints on their power—often in the name of majority rule. Mr Morsi tried to pack Egypt’s upper house with supporters of the Muslim Brotherhood. Mr Yanukovych reduced the power of Ukraine’s parliament. Mr Putin has ridden roughshod over Russia’s independent institutions in the name of the people. Several African leaders are engaging in crude majoritarianism—removing term limits on the presidency or expanding penalties against homosexual behaviour, as Uganda’s president Yoweri Museveni did on February 24th.
Foreign leaders should be more willing to speak out when rulers engage in such illiberal behaviour, even if a majority supports it. But the people who most need to learn this lesson are the architects of new democracies: they must recognise that robust checks and balances are just as vital to the establishment of a healthy democracy as the right to vote. Paradoxically even potential dictators have a lot to learn from events in Egypt and Ukraine: Mr Morsi would not be spending his life shuttling between prison and a glass box in an Egyptian court, and Mr Yanukovych would not be fleeing for his life, if they had not enraged their compatriots by accumulating so much power.
Even those lucky enough to live in mature democracies need to pay close attention to the architecture of their political systems. The combination of globalisation and the digital revolution has made some of democracy’s most cherished institutions look outdated. Established democracies need to update their own political systems both to address the problems they face at home, and to revitalise democracy’s image abroad. Some countries have already embarked upon this process. America’s Senate has made it harder for senators to filibuster appointments. A few states have introduced open primaries and handed redistricting to independent boundary commissions. Other obvious changes would improve matters. Reform of party financing, so that the names of all donors are made public, might reduce the influence of special interests. The European Parliament could require its MPs to present receipts with their expenses. Italy’s parliament has far too many members who are paid too much, and two equally powerful chambers, which makes it difficult to get anything done.
But reformers need to be much more ambitious. The best way to constrain the power of special interests is to limit the number of goodies that the state can hand out. And the best way to address popular disillusion towards politicians is to reduce the number of promises they can make. The key to a healthier democracy, in short, is a narrower state—an idea that dates back to the American revolution. “In framing a government which is to be administered by men over men”, Madison argued, “the great difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself.” The notion of limited government was also integral to the relaunch of democracy after the second world war. The United Nations Charter (1945) and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948) established rights and norms that countries could not breach, even if majorities wanted to do so.
These checks and balances were motivated by fear of tyranny. But today, particularly in the West, the big dangers to democracy are harder to spot. One is the growing size of the state. The relentless expansion of government is reducing liberty and handing ever more power to special interests. The other comes from government’s habit of making promises that it cannot fulfil, either by creating entitlements it cannot pay for or by waging wars that it cannot win, such as that on drugs. Both voters and governments must be persuaded of the merits of accepting restraints on the state’s natural tendency to overreach. Giving control of monetary policy to independent central banks tamed the rampant inflation of the 1980s, for example. It is time to apply the same principle of limited government to a broader range of policies. Mature democracies, just like nascent ones, require appropriate checks and balances on the power of elected government.
Governments can exercise self-restraint in several different ways. They can put on a golden straitjacket by adopting tight fiscal rules—as the Swedes have done by pledging to balance their budget over the economic cycle. They can introduce “sunset clauses” that force politicians to renew laws every ten years, say. They can ask non-partisan commissions to propose long-term reforms. The Swedes rescued their pension system from collapse when an independent commission suggested pragmatic reforms including greater use of private pensions, and linking the retirement age to life-expectancy. Chile has been particularly successful at managing the combination of the volatility of the copper market and populist pressure to spend the surplus in good times. It has introduced strict rules to ensure that it runs a surplus over the economic cycle, and appointed a commission of experts to determine how to cope with economic volatility.
Isn’t this a recipe for weakening democracy by handing more power to the great and the good? Not necessarily. Self-denying rules can strengthen democracy by preventing people from voting for spending policies that produce bankruptcy and social breakdown and by protecting minorities from persecution. But technocracy can certainly be taken too far. Power must be delegated sparingly, in a few big areas such as monetary policy and entitlement reform, and the process must be open and transparent.
And delegation upwards towards grandees and technocrats must be balanced by delegation downwards, handing some decisions to ordinary people. The trick is to harness the twin forces of globalism and localism, rather than trying to ignore or resist them. With the right balance of these two approaches, the same forces that threaten established democracies from above, through globalisation, and below, through the rise of micro-powers, can reinforce rather than undermine democracy.
Tocqueville argued that local democracy frequently represented democracy at its best: “Town-meetings are to liberty what primary schools are to science; they bring it within the people’s reach, they teach men how to use and enjoy it.” City mayors regularly get twice the approval ratings of national politicians. Modern technology can implement a modern version of Tocqueville’s town-hall meetings to promote civic involvement and innovation. An online hyperdemocracy where everything is put to an endless series of public votes would play to the hand of special-interest groups. But technocracy and direct democracy can keep each other in check: independent budget commissions can assess the cost and feasibility of local ballot initiatives, for example.
Several places are making progress towards getting this mixture right. The most encouraging example is California. Its system of direct democracy allowed its citizens to vote for contradictory policies, such as higher spending and lower taxes, while closed primaries and gerrymandered districts institutionalised extremism. But over the past five years California has introduced a series of reforms, thanks in part to the efforts of Nicolas Berggruen, a philanthropist and investor. The state has introduced a “Think Long” committee to counteract the short-term tendencies of ballot initiatives. It has introduced open primaries and handed power to redraw boundaries to an independent commission. And it has succeeded in balancing its budget—an achievement which Darrell Steinberg, the leader of the California Senate, described as “almost surreal”.
Similarly, the Finnish government has set up a non-partisan commission to produce proposals for the future of its pension system. At the same time it is trying to harness e-democracy: parliament is obliged to consider any citizens’ initiative that gains 50,000 signatures. But many more such experiments are needed—combining technocracy with direct democracy, and upward and downward delegation—if democracy is to zigzag its way back to health.
John Adams, America’s second president, once pronounced that “democracy never lasts long. It soon wastes, exhausts and murders itself. There never was a democracy yet that did not commit suicide.” He was clearly wrong. Democracy was the great victor of the ideological clashes of the 20th century. But if democracy is to remain as successful in the 21st century as it was in the 20th, it must be both assiduously nurtured when it is young—and carefully maintained when it is mature.
Democracy versus Dictatorship
Democracy versus Dictatorship :
In theory, democracy is the best form of government. It is the government of the people as distinguished from the government of an individual or of a class of people. It makes all the citizens interested in their country by giving them a voice in legislation. It gives them a feeling of importance and a sense of responsibility. It thus gives a meaning to their personality. Another merit of democracy is that it is less liable to revolution than other forms of government. Since people themselves elect the members of government the need of a revolution does not arise. In additions to this, a democratic government usually guarantees freedom of thought and speech. This twofold freedom is a very great advantage as it enables the individual to grow freely. Democracy thus offers the most favorable atmosphere for the development of the human personality.
Democracy literally means the rule of the people. It has been defined as government of the people, by the people for the people. Modern democracy rests on the principle of representation. The people elect their representatives by vote. These representatives attend the legislature and act on behalf other citizens. If the citizens are not satisfied with their representatives, they may not re-elect them in the next elections.
But democracy has its danger. The greatest of which is that it may be the rule of ignorance. “Nine peoel out of every ten", says Carlyle, “are fools" and citizens who are not sufficiently intelligent or educated are likely to commit errors of judgment in the casting of votes. The best men may this fail to get elected. Elections are usually matters of propaganda. However, the voters in countries like Britain and America have not proved so lacking in judgment as many of the opponents of democracy would have us believe, though it is true that our own country the people, being illiterate, rarely give evidence of sound or independent judgment. Another critic of democracy is that it is wanting in efficiency. For prompt and effective actions, unity of action is essential.
“One bad general", said Napoleon “is better than two good ones". In a multitude of minds, much unprofitable discussion takes place, whereas unity of control is needed for a vigorous national life. According to Newman, for example, the British government cannot cope with the emergencies created by war as effectively as a dictator can. This criticism, however, is not very convincing because in times of war the British prime minter usually wields the powers of a dictator. During world wars, for examples, Sir Winston Churchill faced few real difficulties as a result of the system of democracy in England. A sounder criticism of democracy in times of war would be to say that secrecy in military affairs becomes difficult, if not impossible, and that the oppositions usably lowers the morale of people by its loud condemnations of the actions of the Cabinet.
It was thought that the two world wars had made the world safe for democracy, but this forecast proved to be wrong. While democracy worked quite well in France and the English speaking countries, most other countries swung towards dictatorship. So successful and powerful did their dictatorships become, that the days of democracy seemed to be almost over.
Unfortunately, theemthods of scitatorhsip are, and have to be, ruthless. Dictatorship employed force and violence OT maintain itself. It resorts to physical compulsion, person, concentrations camps censored, intimidation purges and execution. Both n Russia and Germany countless execution was ordered for the sanity of dsicitsorhsip. A dictatorship cannot brook slightest oppositions.
Dictatorship is certainly not without its merits. As carryall poitnsour, society is anorgnaism. And not a machine. Now mechanical sytemliek the ballot-box can, therefore, prove satisfactory. The safer course is OT gives all power to a dictator. The dictator must, of course, be once who has exception amity to organize, direct and admitter. Parliamtary rule usably means gomer by clues ofpoliticans whose purviews dictator on the other hand, can concentrate all his emerges towards theupliftment and improvement of his country.
Thus, there can be no freedom of thought or speech under such asstm. Intesivece propaganda is employed, as was den s germy, to retain the sport of the people. Dictatorship, therefore by its very nature hampers the free devleoepmtn of the human personality. It does not awe for divest of political option and belief, but tends towards political regimentations or standardizations of human beings. The greatest danger of dictatorship, however, is its partiality for war as an instrument of national aggrandizement. Practically very dictate preaches war, partly because he is actuated by person amnion and partly because he suffers from an exaggerated anaionslism.
Democracy versus Dictatorship
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