Friday, August 19, 2016

"Democracy in America," by Alexis de Tocqueville

This is a fairly famous book, but I only just discovered it while looking in the American History section for Zinn's "A People's History of the United States" which I did find, and was subsequently disappointed by. (I can just listen to Democracy Now! if I want to dwell in the depth's of negativity about American History).
This was written by a French dude in the 1830's after he traveled around in America. I found the full text of the preface here.

The Author's intro to this book might very well be the best part, since I am well into the third chapter now and have been less frequently impressed:

In running over the pages of our history, we shall scarcely find a single great event of the last seven hundred years that has not promoted equality of condition.
The Crusades and the English wars decimated the nobles and divided their possessions: the municipal corporations introduced democratic liberty into the bosom of feudal monarchy; the invention of firearms equalized the vassel and the noble on the field of battle; the art of printing opened the same resources to the minds of all classes; the post brought knowledge a like to the door of the cottage and to the gate of the palace; and Protestantism proclaimed that all men are equally able to find Heaven. The discovery of America opened a thousand new paths to fortune and led obscure adventurers to wealth and power. (Page 6).


Naturally I was shocked by his take on the Crusades and firearms. Today this reads like some great Christian propaganda, but I think back then, this just shows how certain parts of history were explained to the curious Christian, which there were very few of. I suppose I don't have to point out that serfs could scarcely have land to grow food, much less obtain the latest in weapon technology to overthrow their lords.

Another interesting part of the preface, here he is sort of picturing an outcome of democracy, and it really reminds me of Partfit's 'z' population outcome in which everyone only has potatoes and muzak, but the overall utility is highest. I will include the preceding paragraph though, because it is probably one of the more famous parts of this book (or seems like it should be, hell if I know).

I can conceive of a society in which all men would feel an equal love and respect for the laws of which they consider themselves the authors; in which the authority of the government would be respected as necessary, and not divine; and in which the loyalty of the subject to the chief magistrate would not be a passion, but a quiet and rational persuasion. With every individual in the possession of rights which he is sure to retain, a kind of manly confidence and reciprocal courtesy would arise between all classes, removed alike from pride and servility. The people, well acquainted with their own true interests, would understand that, in order to profit from the advantages of the state, it is necessary to satisfy its requirements. The voluntary association of the citizens might then take the place of the individual authority of the nobles, and the community would be protected from tyranny and license.
I admit that, in a democratic state thus constituted, society would not be stationary. But the impulses of the social body might there be regulated and made progressive. If there were less splendor than in an aristocracy, misery would also be less prevalent; the pleasures of enjoyment might be less excessive, but those of comfort would be more general; the sciences might be less perfectly cultivated, but ignorance would be less common; the ardor of the feelings would be constrained, and the habits of the nation softened; there would be more vices and fewer crimes.
In the absence of enthusiasm and ardent faith, great sacrifices may be obtained from the members of a commonwealth by an appeal to their understanding and their experience; each individual will feel the same necessity of union with his fellows to protect his own weakness; and as he knows that he can obtain their help only on condition of helping them, he will readily perceive that his personal interest is identified with the interests of the whole community. The nation, taken as a whole, will be less brilliant, less glorious, and perhaps less strong; but the majority of the citizens will enjoy a greater degree of prosperity, and the people will remain peaceable, not because they despair of a change for the better, but because they are conscious that they are well off already
If all the consequences of this state of things were not good or useful, society would at least have appropriated all such as were useful and good; and having once and forever renounced the social advantages of aristocracy, mankind would enter into possession of all the benefits that democracy can offer.


So I think it is evident, the ideal he writes of is one of a great moderation. Through my travels to northern Europe I have seen this kind of moderation. There is class, there is some income inequality, but does not separate people from one another the way it might in the US.

Another one of my fav's from this part:
"The poor man retains the prejudices of his forefathers without their faith, and their ignorance without their virtues; he has adopted the doctrine of self-interest as the rule of his actions without understanding the science that puts it to use; and his selfishness is no less blind than was formerly his devotion to others."

I like this definition of "poor." It descibes to me the essence of what it might be to truly be poor, apart from one's income or relationship with material possessions.


Okay, and then there is my actual favorite part, especially that last paragraph.

There are virtuous and peaceful individuals whose pure morality, quiet habits, opulence, and talents fit them to be the leaders of their fellow men. Their love of country is sincere, and they are ready to make the greatest sacrifices for its welfare. But civilization often finds them among its opponents; they confound its abuses with its benefits, and the idea of evil is inseparable in their minds from that of novelty. . Near these I find others whose object is to materialize mankind, to hit upon what is expedient without heeding what is just, to acquire knowledge without faith, and prosperity apart from virtue; claiming to be the champions of modern civilization, they place themselves arrogantly at its head, usurping a place which is abandoned to them, and of which they are wholly unworthy.
Where are we, then?
The religionists are the enemies of liberty, and the friends of liberty attack religion; the high-minded and the noble advocate bondage, and the meanest and most servile preach independence; honest and enlightened citizens are opposed to all progress, while men without patriotism and without principle put themselves forward as the apostles of civilization and intelligence.



This seems to be utterly true of our current America. So could one be a spiritual proponent of liberty that adopts the enlightened parts of all religions; agree with the compassion of socialism and the pragmatism of libertarianism; maintain that honesty is constantly reaccepting the fluidity of all things; and that there is a form of modest patriotism in which a country may be merely celebrating their own unity?