National states institutionalize their transitions of power in different ways. Britain, for example, is a Constitutional Monarchy. Neither King nor Queen can determine or direct the political actions of its elected ministers, at least not in any explicit way. The weekly meetings of the monarch with the Prime Minister are secretive and meant to be purely advisory—for the monarch presumably has experience encompassing the span of numerous Prime Ministers. The monarchy, as an enduring inheritance, links the British people to Britain’s past achievements and to their shared identity. As a result, Britain’s government expresses the will of its people via its elected officials, whereas its monarchy speaks to its unique identity and historical heritage. The monarch embodies British identity and, by that means, inspires patriotism.
What can we Americans learn from the British? Our heritage exists as a clear break with monarchy in lieu of our democratic republic. Certainly, our governing Constitution reflects the influence of Great Britain, especially in its inclusion of Britain’s Bill of Rights. But we have no historical analogue of past monarchical or colonial power to unite us as a “great nation.” In fact, many of our ancestors left the old world of monarchies and empires with no intention of establishing their like in the new world. We not only fought the British to gain our independence, but we also expelled the influence of many other European monarchies, to include the Russians, the French, and the Spanish. We refused the incursion of all established monarchies in the land we claimed as ours by birthright, even to the exclusion of its native inhabitants. Our past, like the monarchies of Europe, holds its own skeletons, but it also established a constitutional democracy that has persisted for 234 years. Like the Brits, we too love our country and its traditions. But why do we not show the same love of country in the pageantry and solemnity that the British so marvelously exemplify in their transition to a new monarch? Do we thereby lack pride in the inauguration of a newly elected head of state? Instead of celebrating a candidate’s electoral win, we tend to mourn the loss of our chosen candidate. Instead of welcoming the changes the electoral majority chose, we too often denigrate and oppose them—without proposing compromises that mitigate the concerns of the electoral minority. Free elections are the heart of a democracy. And compromise is that heart’s rhythm played to the tune of our general welfare. We Americans should celebrate both our free elections and the spirit of compromise that insure our unity as a people and the overriding inclusiveness of our unalienable rights. Should we not be as proud of our Constitutional democracy as the Brits are of their Constitutional Monarchy?
Well, at least we do not lack for hubris. The inauguration of President Biden was not even attended by his predecessor who disdained his successor and our electoral process. Though we can brag about free elections, we rarely take the time to honor its heritage. Whereas the Brits can very openly acknowledge their pride and patriotism in the person of a beloved monarch and in the passing of the crown to her successor, we Americans often seem unaware of our unique heritage as a fully democratic republic and of the peaceful transition of the Presidency after a national election. Like the British, we have a democracy with all the political tribal conflicts that it naturally generates. But we seem unaware or unwilling to acknowledge our heritage as the longest surviving democracy in history. And that unacknowledged heritage too often can make us complacent about our citizenship. Since no crown is passed in America’s transition of power, we have no concrete symbol comparable to a monarchical succession. We have no such symbol to solidify the permanence of national identify or inspire our patriotism. Instead, we have state and national elections, usually prefaced by messy and discordant campaigns whose electoral outcomes are undetermined until the final vote counts and their certifications. But electoral outcomes are the point of a democracy. If we cannot accept, even celebrate electoral outcomes, then we fail as citizens of the world’s longest surviving democracy.
Of course, we must always be on guard to preserve free and fair elections. Court challenges, recounts, and ongoing reviews of individual state voting laws are required to assure election integrity. All democracies must sustain their legal foundation. Preserving our democracy is an ongoing task that requires assurance that every vote counts. But it also demands the full support of every citizen. If we fail to support free and fair elections, if we allow our voting systems to be impugned without evidence, if we permit bad actors to change established vote counts, to decertify elections illegally, to suppress the right to vote, and to not accept the results of a free and fair election, then we lose the mainspring of our democracy. And with that loss, we lose our freedom—the very heart of our democracy or its ens causa sui,²and the main inspiration for our patriotism. As our first President chided us, once we lose our freedom, we forgo the unity that makes us a free democratic nation. And the reverse is equally true: divisive politics not only can destroy our unity as a nation, but our freedom as citizens in a democratic republic.
In America, the freedoms assured us in our Constitution are secured by the Judicial Branch of our government. We are, as we proclaim, a “nation of law and order.” Surprisingly, Russia’s Constitution also supports democracy, but, as Vladimir Putin proclaimed in a February lecture before his March election in 2000, “there should be a clear institution which would guarantee the rights and freedoms of citizens independently of their social situation. . . This institution can only be the institution of the presidency.” ¹ In other words, In Putin’s Russia, all power to govern personal freedom resides in the presidency, or in the hands of Vladimir Putin. He is the state. In America, we would characterize his position as being above the law. And is that position not dissimilar to Donald Trump? He refuses to accept the results of a lawful election. He claims executive privilege to hold and store classified documents that belong to the State and subject to the authority of a duly elected President. When in office, he abused the authority of his office by pardoning convicted criminals whom he considered personal loyalists. He positioned sycophants in our democratic institutions to assure their loyalty to him rather than to the American public. In these and many other actions, he acted not as a public servant, committed to our Constitution and the preservation of our democracy, but as Putin would act, that is, a man who is above the law.
Today the Brits buried a beloved Queen with celebratory pageantry. They will miss her and the many lessons she taught her subjects in service to a great country and its people. We Americans too appreciate her and what we have embraced of the British experiment in self-governance. And we can still learn from the Brits how we should celebrate our own heritage as a Constitutional Democracy. Perhaps, more poignantly, we Americans need to reevaluate our support for the democracy we have inherited and the qualifications of the candidates we elect to support it. As a people, we are the agents of our own history, to include the democratic values we pass to our heirs.
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¹ Karen Dawisha, “Putin’s Kleptocracy,” p. 236. (Ms. Dawisha’s book is a journalistic encyclopedia of all the events that allowed a former KGB officer to create the mafia-stye kleptocracy that is modern Russia.)
² Ens causa sui, I would translate as a “something that exists for itself”. There is a danger in quoting Sartre in that he qualifies things within the frame of its opposites. Here, I’m asserting that “freedom” is an ens causa sui as the basis for the exercise of all values we humans create as the free moral agents “by whom values exists.” Reference Jean-Paul Sartre, “Existentialism and Human Emotion,” pp. 91-96.