28 June 2007

Theories of Democracy: Part I


Of these theories, majoritarianism seems the nearest to the idea of direct democracy. The majority rule principle, stated simply, is that the course chosen by the greatest number of participating individuals is the course that prevails. In a direct democracy, the methods for achieving such a ruling would be fairly obvious and simple. In a representative democracy, majority rule is demonstrated in the popular election of representatives ( ideally, through a universal suffrage incorporating political equality), and in the subsequent decision making of those representatives, mirroring the convictions of the majority which elected them. In this way, the majoritarian model seems to satisfy the requirements of democratic government “by the people”, albeit indirectly. There must of course arise conflict in any society, and what more reasonable method of resolving it than through the un-slanted decision of majority rule? This makes good sense for a number of reasons. Foremost, as noted in the opinion of Aristotle, is the logical conclusion that the majority will, more likely than not, be right (Mayo, 174). There is also the issue just hinted at, namely, that there is feasibly no better option. Abraham Lincoln summed up this sentiment as follows:

"Unanimity is impossible; the rule of a minority, as a permanent arrangement, is wholly inadmissible; so that, rejecting the majority principle, anarchy or despotism in some form is all that is left" (Mayo, 179).

Yet another benefit of the majoritarian model is its decisiveness; a majority ruling, once achieved, is the end of the matter (until the majority shifts).

There is, however, a vital condition, upon which Aristotle's aforementioned assumption, and in fact the whole theory of majoritarianism, depends. The majority (that is, the bulk of the people as a whole) must possess both educated knowledge and a sincere interest in the issues of their governance. This can be a difficult objective, and consequently, it is seldom realized on a scale the size of which would imply legitimacy for the majoritarian principle. In the United States, one of the world's most vocal champions of democracy, current research has concluded that less than of quarter of the national public stays reasonably informed in matters of government (Janda, et al, 41). Such a society does not provide fertile ground for the cultivation of a political theory which places the final say in matters of public interest with the people.

Another condition of the majoritarian model is a strongly centralized government (Janda, et al, 45). This, obviously, is because the process of obtaining a broad-based majority ruling on any policy requires much organization on the part of the authorities. A statewide referendum (popular vote on public policy) would be very difficult to achieve in a decentralized government, where planning, process, and results could easily become bogged down in bureaucratic red tape.

Though majority rule may seem the logical course for democratic government, it can cause much dissatisfaction when its results are such as to cause the opinions of the minority to be disregarded. It is here that majoritarianism gets a bit muddled with regards to faithfully adhering to democratic theory. It is the majority which is sovereign, which ultimately decides what shall and shall not be, based upon the will of the majority of the people. But this is not the same thing as the will of the people, technically speaking, for a large portion of that body (as much as 49%) may actually be opposed to the majority ruling. This, in the opinion of some, is enough to make majoritarianism a flawed interpretation of democracy. According to others, majority rule is valid insofar as it does not infringe upon the minorities' rights.

Theories of Democracy: An Introduction

For nearly twenty centuries, since the passing of the Greek city-states' and Roman Republic's extraordinary experiments in self-government, democracy lay dormant. Though it may be argued that vestiges of it were to be found in some of the governments and assemblies of medieval kingdoms, it was not until around the seventeenth century that democracy was again taken up and seriously examined. Since then, however, it has been inextricably interwoven with the fabric of western civilization. From the radical ideals of the Enlightenment, through the impassioned revolutions of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, up to and beyond the violent destruction of the twentieth century wars which were fought in the sacred defense of this philosophy, democracy could well be called the defining mark of the modern age. What is this great movement which so influences the daily lives of our world?

Democracy has undergone many alterations since its first days in Greece. Whereas the citizens of Athens deliberated on local matters through direct democracy by way of assembling in person in the Ekklesia, this sort of government, obviously, is not feasible for the vast nation-states which comprise our modern world, (Padover, xvii). Rather, the idea of representative democracy has prevailed. In such a system, the mass of the common people is spoken for by a select number of individuals. These individuals, or representatives, being chosen through popular elections, should to some degree reflect the opinions of the populace from which they obtain their legitimacy. In order for this representation to be viewed as being carried out with integrity according to the ideals of democratic government, however, there are certain prerequisites which must be met. Exactly what these requirements are is not always clear. Most political scientists agree that a true democracy should include such traits as political equality, universal participation, and certain rights for all citizens, among others (Janda, et al 36). But what if the ramifications of these policies conflict with one another? It requires little contemplation for one to realize that this system of indirect democracy, especially when undertaken in a nation of many millions of citizens, is subject to much greater complications than a simple direct democracy. In a series of posts, I will examine several theories which seek an answer to the question of how best to conduct a representative democracy. Included will be the points at which these theories conflict, as well as overlap. The basic theories briefly addressed herein are those of majoritarianism, proportionalism, pluralism, and elitism.

12 June 2007

The Setting: The First Bank of the United States

When the government of the United States of America, under the newly ratified Constitution, came to power in 1789, there was much to be apprehensive about. After a bloody war for independence that officially dragged on for eight years, the American experiment had floundered and nearly capsized under the Articles of Confederation. Now, the experiment had recieved a new lease under the Constitution, but the fate of the nation was anything but certain.

Among the many concerns confronting the new government was the difficulty of developing a stable financial plan that could move the nation forward and solidify the legitimacy of the government. Enter Alaxander Hamilton. Having served as a colonel on George Washington's staff during the war, and having attended the Constitutional Convention in 1787 of which Washington was the appointed president, Hamilton now recived the vital seat of Secretary of the Treasury in the President's cabinet. Washington trusted Hamilton's judgement in general, but particularly with regards to finance. The President knew how to delegate, and he saw fit to place the financial future of the young republic in hands more able (in this regard) than his own. He was not to be disappointed.

Hamilton soon introduced to the Congress an extensive and meticulously laid out financial plan to set the nation on firm footing. Through the government imposition of tariffs and excise taxes, the repayment of war bonds to veterans, and the federal assumption of the states' debts, Hamilton sought to raise revenue, establish credit, and unify the nation. A final aspect of the plan called for the chartering of a national bank, the Bank of the United States.

The Bank of the United States was based upon the Bank of England. Hamilton proposed the bank for a number of solidly logical reasons. It would serve as a means to secure the federal government's tax revenue; provide additional revenue through the issuing of government bonds; increase capital by way of security deposits both foreign and domestic; provide a ready source of funds to the government in the event of an emergency (such as a war or natural disaster). Where it differed for the Bank of England was in the area of management; the Bank of the United States would be largely a private enterprise carried on for the good of the government and the national welfare. Only one fifth of the bank's capital would be provided directly by the government; as a predominantly private venture, the bank was thus partially hedged away from the possibility of government corruption or ineffeciency.

The bank, along with the rest of Hamilton's plan, was wisely approved by Congress and the President, though not without a bitter struggle. The opposition came from the emerging Republican party, headed ably (and duplicitously) by the Secretary of State, Thomas Jefferson.

Despite the obvious (from Hamilton's viewpoint) merits of a national bank, Jefferson was staunchly opposed to the idea. Although some aspects of his argument may be viewed as legitimate (e.g. the national bank would disproportionately benefit the more industrial north), one is inclined to view his opposition as largely emotionally charged and grounded more in prejudice than firm logic. Jefferson, like most wealthy Southerners, hated banks. Being perpetually in debt due to the cost of maintaining the lifestyle expected of the Virginia gentry, Jefferson could see nothing but oppression in any bank, but the idea of a national Bank of the United States was particularly horrifying.

As absurd as Jefferson's opinion may sound to modern ears (and to the ears of Hamilton and his Federalist collegues), it must be realized that it sprang from his vision of America. As a vision of a nation of "yeomen farmers" sustained by a seemingly infinate opportunity for land, it was vastly different from Hamilton's vision of a land supporting not merely agriculture, but industry, commerce, and economic growth. Ultimately, Jefferson's vision proved to be an idealistic dream; Hamilton's vision has prevailed.

Hamilton's argument that the bank would be indispensible in the event of a national crisis such as a war proved to be most pertinent; ironically, just at the time when it was most needed, it was unavailable. In 1811, Congress had decided not to renew the bank's 20-year charter. By this time, Hamilton was gone, and a Republican, Jefferson's long-time ally James Madison, was in the White House. Without an adequate means of funding the war, and with a grossly insufficient army and navy (Hamilton had also pushed for a strong standing army, ultimately without success), the War of 1812 with Britain was disastrous; thankfully, the emerging republic weathered the storm.