My daughter suggested I write a blog on “something to do with correlations and causality in regards to the current state of the world or politics.” She raises a very high bar for me, which is probably more a reflection of her regard for her father than any real talent I possess. Amongst my 3,000+ subscribers, none have made specific requests other than “keep writing.” So her suggestion, while exposing my limitations, has elicited the following thoughts.

To begin, we owe the term “politics” to the Greeks (polis, “city state,” related to polites, “citizen”). The Greek city states were formed in the 10th century, BC. One can argue that political philosophy started in Athens in the 5th century, BC, with Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. The practice of politics, or the art of persuasion, was practiced with great fervor at the time by the Sophists. (Like modern politicians, they were masters of twisted logic.) But even before there was the term “politics,” humans organized into collectives to preserve their way of life and to survive in a dangerous world. Whereas most animal species procreate and protect themselves in some form of collective—herds, prides, flocks, etc.—humans require a special form of collective that allows them to fairly and safely go about the business of being human, to include working, playing, creating, and procreating. This need to form a collective is the impetus to form governments and their underlying cause.

The current state of politics bears a generic similarity with the past. Humans have always organized into groups with common interests: communities of like familial, ethnic, or cultural bonds. And these communities require some kind of enforceable structure, implying a locus of power. History shows a progression in that power structure. Perhaps it started with the strongest caveman who could lead the hunt for food, assure social order within the collective, and protect his family or tribe from danger. Certainly, the shaman assumed this role with his/her (yes, there were female shamans) ability to communicate with the forces of nature and exercise seemingly magical powers to guide his/her people and even to cure them of their ills. Following the shamans were god-like kings, pharaohs, and emperors. In subsequent civilizations, the theological underpinnings of divinely endowed leaders were preserved in religiously inspired doctrines of “the divine right of kings” and of the infallibility of Popes and Caliphs. As populations grew under these powerful figureheads, their power was increasingly shared with nobles, bishops and emirs. Gradually, this divinely sanctioned power became secular and evolved into Europe’s feudal systems which included both clerical and aristocratic control over land, wealth and people. The hoi polloi, or common people, were governed with little or no control over the means of their governance. Though they lived in a well-ordered society, today we would likely characterize their lives as indentured servitude. The people who lived in these earlier political organizations probably appear stunted to our contemporaries in the 21st century. Nevertheless, they experienced a certain degree of security inasmuch as they fit into an established system with a fixed destiny. However mean or destitute might be their living conditions, their system of government was predictable and probably experienced as unalterable.

Over two hundred years ago the nature of political organizations changed drastically as a result of the American and French revolutions. The concept of government “of the people, by the people and for the people” came into vogue with the birth of republicanism or representative democracies. The following centuries witnessed many new dynamic democracies. But what really changed was the very fabric of society. Citizens of modern democracies have a stake in government and a consequent responsibility. Previously silenced factions became part of the national discourse on matters of governance. But with open discourse come discord and the birth of pluralism in government. Living in a pluralist democracy is therefore a special kind of challenge. One cannot always have his/her way, neither in private or public life. Whereas the acquiescence required in a feudal, theocratic, or monarchical system was prescribed, citizens in modern democracies have individual rights and must develop the ability to respect the rights and perspectives of others. The homogeneous experience lived by citizens of a small city-state like ancient Athens, has no relation to our contemporary democratic republics composed of millions. The average American, for example, may have neighbors of a different cultural a/o ethnic background. Also, local communities develop significant political differences with other groups and communities. A West coast liberal, for instance, will not vote like a Deep South conservative. Even a Party devotee is not likely to agree with every component of his/her Party platform. This type of dissonance is magnified today by our interconnected communication systems. As a result, even in the recidivist totalitarian regimes, this political discord is ever present and is a characteristic corollary of modern day governments.

Political discord is the underlying tension both within and without the several Western democracies: federalism versus states’ rights; popular mandates versus delegate empowerment; totalitarian regimes versus democracies; international coalitions versus rogue states; theocracy versus “modernity”; centrally managed economies versus free markets; cultural identity versus pluralism; and so on. Complicating this tension is the role capitalism plays in democracies. Whereas unfettered capitalism seems to be a corollary of personal freedom, it can be destructive of the very freedom it advocates. Its destructive ability was well diagnosed in the 19th century, witnessed and addressed by American Presidents for most of the 20th century, and now in the 21st century universally recognized as the core problem in what is often referred to as income and wealth inequality. Although world poverty has been significantly reduced by free trade and emerging markets, the divide between the “haves and have nots” has widened. By some analyses, 85 families now have accumulated more wealth than 50% of the world’s population. Here in America, .1% of the population is said to control 60% of the nation’s wealth and nearly all of the income benefits from recent advancements in productivity. The world’s democracies are struggling to maintain the balance between individual and moneyed interests. To the extent this balance continues to favor international corporations and the growing billionaire class, the tension and discord will intensify.

The worldwide disparity in wealth has also affected democratic institutions. Here in America, for instance, a single billionaire can finance his own election. Two brothers have spent billions financing local, state, and national elections in order to maintain their influence over government policies, specifically policies favoring their core energy business. American firms spend over $3 billion a year on lobbying Congress. While wages stagnant, international corporations store between $800 billion and $1 trillion in offshore tax havens made lawful by a dutiful Congress. The health care and technology industries help Congress write exclusive patent laws that make these financial sectors among the most profitable in America. These are just a few examples of a broader enterprise to infiltrate the institutions of government. Unless thwarted, they will transform a representative democracy into a financial oligarchy, not unlike the feuding aristocracies democracies replaced. Perhaps unwittingly, they are destroying the public’s faith in the institutions created to serve their interests. More than the fomenting of public discord is at stake here, but the very fate of democracy itself.

Could it be that we are at another inflection point in human history? Has the experiment with democracy run its course? Perhaps it is time to reflect on the nature of democracy, the reason it has been advanced, and the measures required to preserve it.

Democracy implies a degree of individual freedom. And freedom implies risks and responsibility. For example, it requires tolerance of unfamiliar types of people and of competing ideals. Tolerance then presents a constant challenge to the natural desire for familiar and stable experiences. Nevertheless, it is necessary for civility to exist instead of prejudice and close-mindedness. At times it may appear to be an unwelcome corollary to modern democracies. But without tolerance of the rights of others, there can be no justice. Religious orthodoxy or totalitarian states can enforce uniformity and pose as just systems. But they do not determine individual morality. A former Republican nominee for President once said, “You can’t legislate (sic) morality.” He was right, of course, because morality must be lived to be real. But laws do reflect the moral values of the governed, at least that is the code followed by democracies. So he was equally wrong as well. No democratic government can exist for long without a robust system of justice that reflects the basic values of that democracy. A good example of these values is the rights defined in the American Constitution. Even America’s failures reinforce these values. Slavery, Jim Crow laws, and residual prejudice not only endangered the freedom and basic rights of African Americans but also the viability of American democracy. The fundamental principle of any democracy is the guarantee of personal freedom. Tolerance is the operating premise of that guarantee. It is, therefore, integral to the nature of any democracy.

It may appear that a democracy merely has to regroup around its founding principles in order to secure its future. But our experience with democracies has taught us more. America, as the oldest democracy, is not some fantastical utopia where its inhabitants feel secure and comfortable with their individual destinies. In the real America, there is insecurity, even fear. We Americans are not shielded from birth to grave by a singular philosophy or mythology that everybody serves and that promises our future with some degree of certainty. Not only is America not ancient Athens, but it is not the Holy Roman Empire either. Everything is at risk in our constitutionally defined political structure and society. America is in its essence an evolving enterprise. Its citizens must have the courage to face a future that they actively or inadvertently create, including the unwelcome consequences of laws or disastrous foreign policy decisions they may have supported. The success of a democracy is less the result of its flawless performance than of the wisdom gained from its mistakes. Democracies are not static collectives. They must evolve or die. Why else do Americans have this constant debate between conservativism and liberalism—between our past and present values? From the very beginning, America has struggled to “form a more perfect Union.”

Would Hamilton have recognized our modern capitalistic system? He would probably shudder at its current struggle with inequality. Could Lincoln have envisioned an African American President in the White House? Perhaps he would be less surprised by those who question the qualifications of this President. Can anybody today imagine America’s future? There was a time here in Northern California when a Miwok Indian shared a common experience and future with everyone in his/her tribe. That Indian was secure in his expectations for both the nature of his life and its destiny. In modern day America, our security is something we manage on a daily basis, else we lose it altogether. When our politicians remind us of our insecurities and scare us with impending doom and gloom, they are merely triggering instincts that our indigenous to Americans. Our system of government stands against centuries of political structures whose security was defined by rule of unquestioned authority, a fixed ideology, and/or an ethnic/cultural identity. America’s security, by contrast, consists in less tangible elements: acceptance of our differences, commitment to those common principles I often quote from our Constitution’s Preamble, a fair assessment of our failures, and a willingness to work together towards a future that better exemplifies our founding principles.

The measure of any form of government should be how well it takes care of its citizens. The causal chain in the development of political systems is a journey through organizational structures that provide security and identity for groups of people—tribes, city states, empires, and nations. Democracies are a special class, however, inasmuch as they maintain themselves in flux, necessitating constant efforts to manage the stability of their political structures. When our politicians address the issues of our time, they offer widely different solutions. To the extent they can find a common path forward to benefit their electorate, they move the country towards new horizons. Correlated with democracy’s special status then are ongoing adaptations to the needs of the majority and to the values of succeeding generations. In a perfect world, this correlation allows a democracy to evolve and adapt to the needs of its people and to any outside threats to its interests a/o existence. In the world we actually inhabit, however, democracies face many serious internal threats. Previous blogs have addressed the problems of power hungry operatives, of leadership unresponsive to the will of the majority, of insensitivity to minorities or the disadvantaged, and of Machiavellian manipulation of the American electoral system to the benefit of the rich and powerful. At the core of these threats is the problem of personal destiny or of how well contemporary democracies care for their citizens’ present and future prospects. If you are born in East Harlem or South Central Los Angeles, for example, your future may be no less determined than a serf in the feudal system of the past. The same may be said for segregated ethnic conclaves in Europe. Instead, you should have the same access to a public education and a safe environment as any member of a gated community. Western democracies cannot truly be democratic until their systems provide equal opportunity for all their citizens. That opportunity in America is integral to the clarion promise of our independence from monarchy, specifically the declaration of certain unalienable rights of “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

America may be the oldest democracy in the world. But it is still a work in progress. Like the other democracies, it must deal with many threats from anachronistic forces both within and without that merely want to reestablish the embellishment of the few over the impoverishment of the many. Its success continues to be its ability to preserve, reform, and adapt its identity to a changing world.

Today’s blog asks the question whether the health of the American democracy is relevant to its survival in a contentious and dangerous world.

We all know that democracy, according to its Greek derivatives, means “people rule” or, less etymologically, “majority rules.” We also know that no Western democracy is governed by an Athenian forum where the vote of every citizen determines the specific rules or customs that every citizen must live by. We might call this form of democracy “big D.” Instead, contemporary democracies elect representatives of the public interests and invest them with the power to govern. We can call this form of self-government a representative democracy¹ or “little d.” The democratic principle of majority rule still applies, not only in the election of representatives but also in their functioning as legislators. The secret behind this form of democracy is that the minority CHOOSES to accept the will of the majority. That choice is based upon an unwavering belief in a democratic system and in its capacity to serve both the present and future needs of its citizens. A minority position may one day be held by a majority as circumstances or societal norms change. For example, decades ago a minority believed that widespread housing segregation and Jim Crow laws in the South were inhuman and contrary to the spirit of our Constitution. Today, a majority agree. Not very long ago, few people spoke in favor of same sex marriage. Today, it has become commonplace. This type of evolution is at the heart of any democracy and explains how America resolves its differences over time. American belief in democracy and its future falters when it excludes support a/o acceptance of majority rule—which explains the American public’s present disaffection with Congress. First, it has at times chosen to ignore the will of the majority of Americans, for example, when it refused to consider any form of gun control or to fund the government. These acts of obstruction are destructive inasmuch as they disregard the safety of American citizens and the integrity of their government. In these instances Congress was not tuned in to the people it represents. Secondly, congressional leadership has often obstructed legislative action by tabling bills it knows would pass. The perfect example of this type of undemocratic behavior is the immigration reform bill, passed by the Senate but tabled by House leaders. This type of obstruction directly splits the American polity into groups of citizens and non-citizens, exactly the same division that haunted the Greeks and endangered their democracy. By any definition, turning a deaf ear to the American majority and suppressing a majority vote within Congress are both undemocratic. Ignoring or preventing majority rule is categorically undemocratic and cannot be justified by claiming the minority opinion is more American. This perversion of a representative democracy is similar to the fiction created by dictators who justify their use of power by pretending to act in the interest of the governed.

The American combination of democracy and capitalism is not loved everywhere in the world. It often faces international opposition. For a good part of the last century the world witnessed a “face-off” between representative democracy and communism. It was called the Cold War; and its roots were planted in the nineteenth century in the contention between capitalism and communism—between the impact of the industrial revolution and the writings of Marx and Engels. They believed in a form of socialism where government was made up of people who, they believed, should not only hold the ultimate power but also the instruments of power, that is, the fruits of their labor to include property, the means of production, and all accumulated wealth. Marx called his tome “The Communist Manifesto” to connote its communal nature. His analysis of the pitfalls of capitalism, specifically wealth inequality, has found a new audience today. But his vision of equality in a socialist commune has never been realized. How could it? Human beings live as individuals with unique perspectives and personal proclivities, including ownership of property they claim as personal extensions of their selves. Besides, how would Marx’s ideal commune govern itself? Even monastic orders are governed by abbots and superiors. Nevertheless, Marx believed that a communist system would eventually be self-governing in order to ward off the ills of capitalism. We can call his form of communism “big C.” Lenin came along later and revised the socialism of Marx and Engels. He advocated for a strong central government that would own everything while assuring its citizens equal access to the products of labor and the resources of society. In his construct the will of the people would be subservient to an appointed apparatchik. And the bureaucrats in his proposed system would guard against the evils of capitalism by eliminating greed and distributing the accumulated wealth of the central government to all in equal measure. We can call Lenin’s view of communism “little c.” He never apostatized from his communist beliefs, he just advocated for a communist totalitarian government as the practical means to the future utopia envisioned by Marx. And thus the face of twentieth century communism was born. When everything is owned by the central government, all power is in the hands of the elite who control that government. People did NOT CHOOSE how they would be governed in this system. Free choice was not an option: acceptance was mandated. In this case, power was invested in the favored minority, thereby violating the very principle of socialism. Lenin’s construct functioned more like a cult where the elite or a strongman might govern with no other expectation from the governed other than their toil and unquestioning acceptance of state policy. Without this orthodoxy, communism would become no more than a form of oppression. With it, communists had created the fiction of a socialist state that was categorically not socialist. This perversion of socialism is the fiction created by dictators who justify their use of power by pretending to act in the interest of the governed.

Either unrepresentative democracies or the contemporary offshoots of communist totalitarian states can become dangerous. Both exemplify the perverted will to power I described as an aphrodisiac in “The Politics of Power.” The contention and competition between these governmental systems may not be a new Cold War, but can be something very much akin to it. Modern democracies, for instances, are challenged by Russian and Chinese governments directly descended from their communist progenitors. These countries play at their respective forms of “free” enterprise under control of a central government and a strongman with near absolute power. While China rattles the cages of Asian democracies with expansion of its military power and economic hegemony, Russia is busy undermining Europe and any projection of American influence in the world. Both countries and their respective leaders are focused on power. China’s President, Xi Jinping, is as concerned with his sphere of influence in Asia as Vladimir Putin is with his sphere of influence in Eastern Europe, Syria, and South Asia. Both are nuclear powers, though neither presents an existential threat to America at this time. But both present a challenge for America and its influence around the world. That challenge, however, differs in each case. China’s exports to the rest of the world give it economic leverage which it fashions mainly to its internal benefit. While it pillages Africa, the Middle East and Latin America of their natural resources, it avoids confrontation with America as long as America does not interfere with its interests in the South China Sea or Taiwan. China’s economic girth as perhaps the largest economy in the world pushes against America’s economic hegemony as the world’s most productive economy, holder of the world’s currency, and foremost international banker. China still has significant economic leverage: it can tweak its monetary policy to add billions of dollars to America’s trade deficit; and it holds 1.246 trillion dollars of the American 19 trillion dollar debt (as of 12/2015). Recently, China initiated its own infrastructure bank, attracting investments that many countries would have made to an American infrastructure bank where it not for a dithering Congress that refused to fund the President’s proposal. And now China is floating the idea of instituting its own monetary fund to compete with the International Monetary Fund that America initiated and largely influences.

Putin, on the other hand, never hesitates to explore every opportunity to extend or protect his hegemony. When Ukraine leaned toward an economic alliance with Europe, he immediately moved to annex Crimea and preserve his naval base there. When he saw his Ukrainian vassal fall from power, he immediately organized an invasion. He acted similarly when Assad’s government in Syria was threatened. He used his military to shore up Assad and protect another Russian naval base. As long as Putin acts within his sphere of influence, the West has been willing to play his game to a stalemate but has simultaneously been reluctant under American leadership to knock his pieces off the board (reference “What Strategy?”). The problem with Putin, however, is deeper than these tactical interventions in neighboring states. He is a former KGB Cold War warrior. Before the fall of Soviet Russia, which he considers the great disaster of the twentieth century, he was actively involved in destabilizing western democracies. Every conceivable right wing group received money and arms from the KGB, even when it was unsolicited. Also, Russian propaganda during that period was relentless in depicting the sins of the West. Today, Putin funds the same type of propaganda throughout Europe and the United States. Fortunately for America, Putin apparently no longer has the resources to fund dissidents in the West. But he is finding some welcome allies for destabilizing western democracies. Daesh in particular has weakened the European coalition with the refugee crisis and the terrorists it has spawned. And the American Congress has done its part to weaken America’s role in international diplomacy: undermining the Iran nuclear deal, refusing to ratify treaties negotiated by the Administration², and declining to authorize the use of military force (AUMF) in support of the President’s anti-terrorist campaign. Putin has taken advantage of the Daesh diversion and this division in American leadership with his military adventures in Eastern Europe and Syria. In addition, he has given vocal support to the right wing voices emerging in many European countries and, deviously, to one of his admirers in the current American presidential campaign. If limited in resources, there is no better way to win a zero sum game than to encourage your opponent to weaken its self.

The international community is like a gathering of contentious and sometimes warring tribes. America, since World War II, has tried to act as a defusing, organizing, and at times intervening agent. Obviously, it has not always chosen the best means or experienced the best outcome. But it has almost always acted with one voice, until now. What America presents to the world today is a cacophony of voices. Congress tables Administration requests for a 2016 AUMF to fight terrorists or a 2014 AUMF to punish a rogue state for violating international prohibitions against genocide a/o the use of chemical weapons, attempts to undermine a nuclear disarmament agreement, voices agreement with world leaders who oppose American foreign policy—even praising Putin on the floor of Congress, and ridicules any and all agreements the Administration attempts to make with China whether on trade, monetary policy, climate change or coordination of military operations near China and in the South China Sea. In the past, for the most part, issues like these were debated until a vote was cast, and then the nation spoke with one voice. Even when America errored, like in the questionable 2003 AUMF against Iraq or the Gulf of Tonkin resolution that spurred the Vietnam War, it spoke with one voice. Democracies can make mistakes, but they can learn from them too. Broken democracies do not learn from their mistakes, do not resolve their differences, and cannot evolve.

Soldiers who volunteer for military service sometimes fight in wars they would otherwise not support. They do so because they are Americans. Members of the House and Senate debate issues, vote their preferences, and, hopefully, abide by the will of the majority. They do so because they are Americans and are representatives in a democratic system of government. Failure to do so, however, can result in two really bad outcomes: outwardly our nation appears divided and unable to contest or compete effectively on the world stage; inwardly, our citizens become disaffected and disassociated with their government. One might argue that the majority is not always right, as more than a few failed military interventions can attest. But that argument only emphasizes the need for more reasoned debate and an effective media-informed electorate. All governments make mistakes. The main benefit of a democracy is the public forum where issues can be debated and solutions can be found by reasonable compromise. America is now the oldest democracy to grace this planet. But it was not born perfect. And we would not have survived as a democracy if we still had slaves or denied women the vote. America is, as our founding fathers fully recognized, a work in progress. Ironically, America has even incorporated government-managed social services into its representative democracy, thereby saving socialism from its “little c” abortion and giving “little d” the more human inflection of social justice. America will persist in history as long as it continues to progress under the moral and cultural impetus of a majority of its people. But that progress is obstructed by those who use power for their own purposes to the exclusion of the majority. They tear the fabric of democracy and expose us to the viral infection of power seekers both within and without.

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¹There are a few exceptions to “little d” at the state level. For instance, in California all residents can vote for an “initiative” that has the power of law or for a “referendum” that can and has removed an elected official.
²Most of these unratified treaties were negotiated with the goal of replicating existing domestic law into international law. A few noteworthy examples include The Nuclear Test Ban Treaty, The Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, The Biodiversity Convention, and The Framework Convention on Tobacco. Executive agreements like the Bretton Woods of 1945 that established the World Bank and the IMF deliberately circumvent the treaty ratification responsibility of the U. S. Senate. These types of agreements represent 95% of all international agreements made by America between 1939 and 1989. Nevertheless, for over a hundred years they have been a bone of contention between several Administrations and their respective Senates. And, as one might expect, they have triggered many Constitutional challenges. So it is understandable that the Obama Administration would call upon his executive authority to negotiate the recent Climate Change Agreement in Paris and that the U. S. Senate would threaten to undermine it.