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Models of Democracy Third Edition

DAVID HELD

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The right of David Held to be identified as Author of this Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act This edition first published in by Polity Press Reprinted , , Polity Press 65 Bridge Street Cambridge CB2 1UR, UK Polity Press Main Street Malden, MA , USA All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purpose of criticism and review, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. ISBN ISBN (pb) A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Typeset in 10 on 12 pt Stone Serif by Wearset Ltd, Boldon, Tyne and Wear Printed in Great Britain by MPG Books Ltd, Bodmin, Cornwall Every effort has been made to trace all copyright holders, but if any have been inadvertently overlooked, the publishers will be pleased to include any necessary credits in any subsequent reprint or edition. For further information on Polity, visit our website: rushbrookrathbone.co.uk To see more about this book, go to rushbrookrathbone.co.uk

Contents

List o f Figures a n d Tables

viii

Preface to the T hird Edition

ix

In tro d u ctio n

1

PART ONE CLASSIC MODELS 1 Classical D em ocracy: A thens

11

Political ideals a n d aim s

13

Institutional features

17

The exclusivity of ancien t dem ocracy T he critics

19 23

In sum: model I

27

2 R epublicanism : Liberty, Self-G overnm ent a n d th e Active C itizen

29

T he eclipse a n d re-em ergence of homo politicus

29

T he reforging o f republicanism

32

Republicanism , elective governm ent a n d p opular sovereignty

36

From civic life to civic glory

40

The republic a n d the general will

In sum: model lia In sum: model lib T he public a n d the private

43 44 48 49

3 T he D evelopm ent of L iberal D em ocracy: For a n d A gainst th e S tate

56

Pow er a n d sovereignty

60

C itizenship a n d the constitutional state

62

Separation of pow ers

65

The p roblem of factions

70

Accountability a n d m arkets

In sum: model Ilia Liberty a n d the developm ent of dem ocracy

75 78 79

T he dangers of despotic pow er a n d a n overgrow n state

81

Representative g overnm ent

84

T he subordination of w om en

88

C om peting conceptions of th e ‘ends of governm ent’

In sum: model Illb

91 92

4 Direct Democracy and the End of Politics Class and class conflict History as evolution and the development of capitalism Two theories of the state The end of politics Competing conceptions of Marxism In sum: model IV

96 96 98

PART TWO VARIANTS FROM THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 5 Competitive Elitism and the Technocratic Vision Classes, power and conflict Bureaucracy, parliaments and nation-states Competitive elitist democracy Liberal democracy at the crossroads The last vestige of democracy? Democracy, capitalism and socialism ‘Classical’ v. modem democracy A technocratic vision In sum: model V



6 Pluralism, Corporate Capitalism and the State

16S

Group politics, governments and power Politics, consensus and the distribution of power Democracy, corporate capitalism and the state Accumulation, legitimation and the restricted sphere of die political In sum: model VI T he changing form of representative institutions 7 From Postwar Stability to Political Crisis: T he Polarization of Political Ideals

democratic order or a repressive regime? O verloaded state or legitimation crisis? Crisis theories: an assessment Law, liberty and democracy In sum: model VII Participation, liberty and democracy In sum: model VIII



8 Democracy after Soviet Communism The historical backdrop The triumph of economic and political liberalism? The renewed necessity of Marxism and democracy from ‘below*?



A legitim ate

9 Deliberative Democracy and the Defence of the Public Realm Reason and participation The limits of democratic theory The aims of deliberative democracy What is sound public reasoning? Impartialism and its critics Institutions of deliberative democracy Value pluralism and democracy In sum: model IX



PART THREE WHAT SHOULD DEMOCRACY MEAN TODAY? 10 DemocraticAutonomy The appeal of democracy The principle of autonomy Enacting the principle The heritage of classic and twentieth-century democratic theory Democracy: a double-sided process Democratic autonomy; compatibilities and incompatibilities In sum: model Xa 11 Democracy, the Nation-State and the Global System Democratic legitimacy and borders Regional and global flows: old and new Sovereignty, autonomy and disjunctures Rethinking democracy for a more global age: the cosmopolitan model In sum: model Xb A utopian project? Acknowledgements Bibliography Index







Figures and Tables

Figures 1



Variants of democracy Classical democracy. Athens City-republics: innovations of government Forms of republicanism Marx’s theory of crisis The party system and the erosion of parliamentary Influence From capitalism to socialism: central elements of Schumpeter's theory Corporatism and the erosion of parliament and party politics Theoretical trajectories of democratic models Overloaded government: crisis of the liberal democratic welfare regime Legitimation crisis: crisis of the democratic capitalist state Types of political acceptance

5 18 33 37

Tables

Summary of advantages and disadvantages of government by bureaucracy according to Mill Elements of a mode of production Broad characteristics of socialism and communism Central tenets of developmental republicanism, liberalism and Marxism

87

Preface to the Third Edition

Although it is easy to overgeneralize from one time period and from the culture of one’s hom eland, the development of the third edition of Models o f Democracy is written in unsettling times. The events of 9/11 and the subsequent wars in Afghanistan () and Iraq () have created a ripple of change across the globe. Democracy, w hich seem ed relatively u n tro u b led in the s, is experiencing intense pressures, from within an d without. Security challenges, the ‘war on terror’, the attem pt to im pose ‘regime change’ on Iraq and to transform other Middle Eastern countries have been accom panied by a widespread sense of unease about whether democracies can deliver security to their citizens, whether they can sustain prosperity in tum ultuous tim es and w hether they em bed ideals th at can be defended adequately against, on the one hand, widespread despondency and apathy w ithin and, on th e other hand, fierce opponents, who do not hesitate to use indiscrim inate violence, from w ithout. The rise of fundam entalist elem ents in Islam , alongside th e developm ent of Christian and Jewish fundam entalist groupings elsewhere, raise questions about th e legitimacy of contem porary political institutions, th e separation of church and state, and th e very possibility o f democracy in the face of challenges to Its underlying conception o f hum an beings as free and equal, as active moral agents, with capacities for self-determination and political choice. There is a m arked risk that in W estern democracy a concern with security above all else will undo some of th e im portant achievem ents of democracy and certain of the rights and liberties it presupposes. And there is a risk that cultures and religious forces that oppose the separation of politics and religion, state and civil society, will see ‘democracy’ as one of their enemies. Elsewhere, m ost recently in Global Covenant (), I have analysed som e of these trends and reactions. In Models o f Democracy m y aim is to clarify why democracy is so im portant in hum an affairs, why it is so contested and why, despite its vulnerabilities, it rem ains th e b est of all possible governing arrangem ents. Democracy is not a panacea for all hum an problems, but it offers the m ost compelling principle of legitimacy - ‘th e consent of the people’ - as the basis of political order. It is im portant to understand this principle and the m any debates it has given rise to, if an attractive and defensible conception of democracy is to be prom ulgated in the century ahead. Given the difficulties of the present period it is easy to forget that, if there was ever an age of democracy, it is the present one. State socialism, which appeared so entrenched just a few decades ago, has crum bled In Central and Eastern Europe. In m any of Its essentials, democracy appears not only quite secure in the West but also widely adopted in principle beyond the West as a suitable

model of government. Throughout the world’s major regions there has been a consolidation of democratic processes and procedures. In the mids, over two-thirds of all states could reasonably be called authoritarian. This percentage has fallen dramatically; less than a third of all states are now authoritarian, and the num ber of democracies has grown. Democracy has become the leading standard of political legitimacy in the current era. The tale of democracy from antiquity to the present seems, therefore, to be a relatively happy one. In m ore and m ore countries citizen-voters are, in principle, able to hold public decision-makers to account, while the decision­ makers themselves represent the interests of their constituents - ‘the people’ in a delimited territory. However, the tale of democracy does not conclude with such developments. Although the victory of democratic movements across Central and Eastern Europe was of great m om ent, as was the transformation of political regimes in other places like South Africa, these events have left unresolved m any im portant questions of democratic thought and practice. Democracy, as an idea and as a political reality, is fundamentally contested. Not only is the history of democracy m arked by conflicting interpretations, but also ancient an d m odern notions interm ingle to p roduce am biguous and inconsistent accounts of the key terms of democracy, am ong them the proper m eaning of ‘political participation’, the connotation of ‘representation’, the scope of citizens’ capacities to choose freely am ong political alternatives, and the nature of membership in a democratic community. These are significant and pressing m atters, and the stock of a great deal of coniemporary political debate. But even these im portant concerns by no means fully define the current agenda of democratic thought and practice. For any engagement with the contem porary m eaning of democracy has to examine additional questions - questions not only about the ‘internal’ or ‘domestic’ character of democracy, but also about its ‘external’ qualities and consequences. This is so because one of the m ost conspicuous features of politics in the new millennium is the emergence of issues which transcend national democratic frontiers. Processes of economic globalization, the problem of the environment and the protection of the rights of minorities are increasingly m atters for the international com m unity as a whole. The n ature and limits of national democracies have to be reconsidered in relation to processes of environmental, social and econom ic globalization; th at is, in relation to shifts in the transcontinental or inter-regional scale of hum an social organization and of the exercise of social power. Of course, there is nothing new about the emergence of global problems. Although their importance has grown considerably, m any have existed for decades, some for centuries. But now that the old confrontation between East and West has ended, regional and global problems such as the spread of AIDS, the debt burden of the ‘developing world’, the flow of financial resources which escape national jurisdiction, the drugs trade, international crime and terrorism have an urgent place on the international political agenda. None the less, profound ambiguity still reigns as to where, how and according to what criteria decisions about these matters can be taken. Democratic theory’s exploration of emerging regional and global problems is

still in its infancy. While democratic theory has^examined and debated at length the challenges to democracy that emerge from within the boundaries of the nation-state, it has not seriously questioned whether the nation-state itself can remain at the centre of democratic thought. The questions posed by the rapid growth of complex interconnections and interrelations between states and societies, and by the evident intersection of national and international forces and processes, remain largely unexplored. The challenges facing democratic thinking now are both num erous and substantial. Models o f Democracy, as published initially in , had two prime purposes: the first, to provide an introduction to central accounts of democracy and, above all, to those of the W estern tradition from ancient Greece to the present day; the second, to offer a critical narrative about successive democratic ideas in order to address the question, raised directly towards the end of the book: w hat should democracy m ean today? These rem ained the objectives of the second edition, published in , but in order to ensure their thorough execution it becam e necessary to revise the original text in a num ber of ways. Models needed revision in order to take account of transform ations in politics some of which were either unanalysed or unanticipated by the first edition. It needed revision, moreover, in order to examine the considerable research and scholarship undertaken in political thought in the last decade, some of which has changed our understanding of aspects of the classic democratic heritage as well as of contem porary political ideas and notions. And it needed revision because the author of Models had altered the balance of his views in some respects, alterations which could usefully be reflected in a new text. A similar set of issues lies behind the third edition. It has been updated to take account of political changes that are now shaping our world, and in the light of new theoretical and historical work that alters how we should interpret aspects of earlier political traditions. It has been revised because debates in political and social theory have led to new innovations in democratic thinking. Thus, a new chapter has been added on deliberative dem ocracy (chapter 9), which is concerned with the quality of democratic reasoning and the justification for political action. Deliberative theorists focus on the development of citizenship, on how to encourage ‘refined’ and ‘reflective’ political preferences and on political rationality as inseparable from the idea of justification to others. These are im portant notions worthy of careful analysis in a separate chapter. The first two editions of Models o f Democracy emerged, in part, as a set text for an Open University course, ‘Democracy: From Classical Times to the Present’. Many of m y colleagues at the Open University offered detailed commentaries on them. I would like to thank, in particular, Donna Dickenson, Bram Gieben, David Goldblatt, Paul Lewis, Tony McGrew and David Potter for their extensive advice. Moreover, in the preparation of the first and second editions I benefited enormously from the com m ents of friends and colleagues at other universities. I would like to thank David Beetham, Richard Bellamy, John Dunn, Anthony Giddens, John Keane, Joel Krieger, Quentin Skinner, Michelle Stanworth and John B. Thompson, am ong others. Nearly twenty years elfter its inception, the Open University course has been phased out, but Models o f Democracy continues to be used as an introduction to

dem ocratic thought throughout th e world. Cillian McBride has been extraordinarily helpful in the developm ent of the third edition. He has guided m e through th e deliberative democracy literature (now vast) and has been a sounding board when needed. I am deeply indebted to him. Ann Bone, Neil de Cort, Anne DeSayrah, Ellen McKinlay, Gill Motley, Breffni O’Connor, Sue Pope and M arianne Rutter provided indispensable aid in the process of the m anuscript’s publication. I am very grateful to them all. I owe a special debt to my father, Peter Held, to whom the third edition is dedicated. He is a wise and reflective citizen, and a great supporter and interlocutor. Finally, I want to acknowledge m y children, as I did in previous editions, for constantly showing m e that there is m ore to life than the polis and for being good enough citizens - just! Thank you Rosa, Joshua and Jacob. DH

Introduction

T he history of the idea of democracy is curious; the history of democracies is puzzling. There are two striking historical facts. First, political leaders of extraordinarily diverse views profess to be democrats. Political regimes of all kinds describe themselves as democracies. Yet w hat these regimes say and do is often substantially different from one to another throughout the world. Democracy appears to legitimate m odern political life: rule-making and law enforcement seem justified and appropriate when they are ‘dem ocratic’. But it has not always been so. From ancient Greece to the present day the majority of political thinkers have been highly critical of the theory and practice of democracy. A general com m itm ent to democracy is a very recent phenom enon. Second, while m any states today m ay be democratic, the history of their political institutions reveals the fragility and vulnerability of dem ocratic arrangem ents. The history of tw entieth-century Europe alone makes clear that democracy is a remarkably difficult form of government to create and sustain: fascism, Nazism and Stalinism came very close to eradicating it altogether. Democracy has evolved through intensive social struggles and is frequently sacrificed in such struggles. This book is about the idea of democracy, but in exploring the idea we cannot escape too far from aspects of its history in thought and practice. While the w ord ‘dem ocracy’ cam e into English in the sixteenth century from the French démocratie, its origins are Greek. ‘Dem ocracy’ is derived from demokratia, th e root m eanings of which are demos (people) and kratos (rule). Democracy m eans a form of governm ent in which, in contradistinction to m onarchies and aristocracies, the people rule. D em ocracy entails a political com m unity in which there is som e form of political equality am ong the people. ‘Rule by the people’ m ay appear an unam biguous concept, but appearances are deceptive. The history of the idea of dem ocracy is complex and is m arked by conflicting conceptions. There is plenty of scope for disagreem ent. Definitional problem s emerge with each elem ent of the phrase: ‘rule’? - ‘rule by’? - ‘the people’? To begin with ‘the people’: • Who are to be considered ‘the people’? • What kind of participation is envisaged for them? • W hat conditions are assum ed to be conducive to participation? Can the disincentives and incentives, or costs and benefits, of participation be equal?

The idea of ‘rule’ evokes a plethora of issues: • How broadly or narrowly is the scope of rule to be construed? Or, what is the appropriate field of democratic activity? • If ‘rule’ is to cover ‘the political’ w hat is m eant by this? Does it cover: (a) law and order? (b) relations betw een states? (c) the economy? (d) the domestic or private sphere? Does ‘rule by’ entail the obligation to obey? • Must the rules of ‘the people’ be obeyed? What is the place of obligatio^ and dissent? • What roles are perm itted for those who are avowedly and actively ‘non­ participants’? • Under w hat circumstances, if any, are democracies entitled to resort to coercion against som e of their own people or against those outside the sphere of legitimate rule? The potential areas for disagreement do not stop here. For, from ancient Greece to the contem porary world, there have also been fundamentally different opinions expressed about the general conditions or prerequisites of successful ‘rule by the people’. Do the people have, for instance, to be literate before becom ing democrats? Is a certain level of social wealth necessary for the m ain­ tenance of a democracy? Can democracies be m aintained during times of national emergency or war? These and a host of other issues have ensured that the m eaning of democracy has remained, and probably always will remain, unsettled. There is m uch significant history in the attem pt to restrict the m eaning of ‘the people’ to certain groups: am ong others, owners of property, white men, educated men, men, those with particular skills and occupations, white adults, adults. There is also a telling story in the various conceptions and debates about w hat is to count as ‘rule’ by ‘the people’. The range of possible positions includes, as one com m entator usefully sum m arized them: 1 T hat all sh o u ld govern, in th e sen se th a t all sh o u ld be involved in legislating, in d e cid in g o n g e n e ra l policy, in a p plying law s a n d in g o v e rn m e n ta l adm inistration. 2 T hat all sh o u ld be personally involved in crucial decision-m aking, th a t is to say, in deciding g eneral law s a n d m atters of general policy. 3 T h at ru lers sh o u ld be a cc o u n ta b le to the ruled; they should, in o th e r w ords, be obliged to justify th eir actio n s to th e ru led a n d be rem ovable by th e ruled. 4 T h at rulers sh o u ld b e a cc o u n ta b le to th e rep resen tativ es of th e ruled. 5 T h at rulers sh o u ld b e ch o sen by th e ruled. 6 T h at rulers should be ch o sen by th e represen tativ es o f th e ruled. 7 T h at rulers sh o u ld act in th e in te rests o f th e ruled. (Lively, , p. 30)

Positions taken derive in part from different ways of justifying democracy. Democracy has been defended on th e grounds that it comes closest am ong the alternatives to achieving one or m ore of the following fundam ental values or goods: rightful authority, political equality, liberty, m oral self-development, the com m on interest, a fair m oral com prom ise, binding decisions. th at take

everyone’s interest into account, social utility, the satisfaction of wants, efficient decisions. W ithin th e history of th e clash of positions lies the struggle to determ ine w hether dem ocracy will m ean som e kind of popular power (a form of life in w hich citizens are engaged in self-governm ent an d selfregulation) or an aid to decision-m aking (a m eans to legitim ate the decisions of those voted into pow er - ‘representatives’ - from tim e to time). W hat should be the scope of democracy? To w hat dom ains of life should it be applied? Or, alternatively, should dem ocracy b e clearly delim ited to m ain tain other im portant ends? These are extrem ely difficult questions. Analysis o f th e v ariants of democracy, the chief task of this book, does not resolve them , although it m ay help to illum inate why certain positions are m ore attractive th an others. In focusing on the chief variants, this volum e will set out som e of th e political options we face today. But it is as well to say th at these options do n o t present them selves in a simple, clear-cut m anner. The history of dem ocracy is often confusing, partly because this is still very m uch an active history, an d partly because the issues are very com plex (R. Williams, , pp. ). It is im portant to say also th a t m y account of the m yriad of issues is helped, as eure all such accounts, by a particular position w ithin this active history: a belief th at dem ocratic ideas and practices can in th e long ru n b e protected only if their hold on our political, social and econom ic life is extended and deepened. The precise nature of this view and the reasons I have for holding it will, I hope, be clarified later, b u t it does m ean that I am inevitably m ore sym pathetic to some dem ocratic theorists th an others. The book is divided into three parts. Part One sets out four classic m odels of democracy: the classical idea of democracy in ancient Athens; the republican conception of a self-governing com m unity (elaborated in two variants: protective an d developm ental republicanism );1 liberal dem ocracy (again, elaborated in two different variants: protective dem ocracy and developmental democracy); an d th e Marxist conception of direct democracy. Part Two explores five m ore recent models th at have spawned intensive political discussion and conflict: competitive elitist democracy, pluralism, legal democracy, participatory democracy and deliberative democracy. Part Three examines som e of th e central problem s of democratic theory an d practice, an d addresses the question: what should democracy m ean today? This question is pursued by m eans of an appraisal of the contem porary relevance of the democratic heritage within the context of the nation-state as well as against the background of the development of dense interconnections am ong states and societies. Thus, th e concerns of Models o f Democracy span som e of the earliest conceptions of democracy, th e eclipse of these ideas for nearly two millennia, th e slow re-em ergence of dem ocratic notions in th e course of th e Renaissance and, from th e late sixteenth century, during th e struggle of liberalism against tyranny an d the absolutist state, th e reformulation of the idea of dem ocracy in the late eighteenth an d nineteenth centuries in both the liberal and Marxist 1 It is important to note that not all conceptions of republicanism were democratic. Chapters 2 and 3 explore the leading conceptions and their relation to democracy.

traditions, and the clash of contem porary perspectives. In focusing Models of Democracy in this way, prim e attention is given to the developm ent of democracy in the West. This is because the story of the developm ent of different variants of dem ocracy is in part the story of the form ation of certain political ideas and practices which crystallized m ost clearly in the West. Debates about the nature of dem ocracy have been particularly intensive within the European and North American intellectual traditions, although to state this is by no m eans to claim th at everything of im portance about the nature of democracy originated in, or was fully understood or expressed in, Europe and North America alone (see Bernal, ; Springborg, ). Although the em phasis here will be on the W estern dem ocratic tradition, the significance of other strands of thought and of other political regions will be introduced later.2 The models of democracy at the centre of the following chapters are set out in figure 1, as are the very general relations between them. All but one of the models could reasonably be divided into two broad types: direct or participatory democracy (a system of decision-making about public affairs in which citizens are directly involved) and liberal or representative democracy (a system of rule embracing elected ‘officers’ who undertake to ‘represent’ the interests and/or views of citizens within the framework of ‘the rule of law’).3 These broad classificatory labels will occasionally be used for the purpose of grouping together a num ber of models. However, they will be deployed only on a highly restricted basis; for one of the central purposes of this volume is to explicate and assess a far wider range of argum ents about democracy than are suggested by these two general notions alone. There is a great deal to be learned, for instance, about the differences between classical democracy, developmental republicanism, direct democracy and participatory democracy, even though they all might be labelled a type of ‘direct democracy’. To focus on them merely as forms of the latter is to risk missing significant divergencies between them - divergencies which justify a more complex classificatory system. A similar point can be made about ‘variants’ of liberal democracy. Accordingly, the terms listed in figure 1 will be generally used. The context of their use should clarify any ambiguity about the type of democracy under discussion and the similarities and differences between them .4 2 In addition it should be noted that the origins of certain ideas in particular cultures and nations do not necessarily restrict their value or utility to those places. The language of selfdetermination and autonomy cannot simply be appraised in relation to its initial social context (see, in particular, chs 10 and 11 below). 3 Deliberative democracy, as will be seen in chapter 9, seeks to break this mould directly. 4 There are additional terminological difficulties which should be mentioned. Among the most central political traditions, at least for modem Western political thought, is, of course, liberalism. It is important to bear in mind that the ‘modem ’ Western world was liberal first, and only later, after extensive conflicts, liberal democratic (see chs 2 and 3). It should be stressed that by no means all liberals, past and present, were democrats, and vice versa. However, the development of liberalism was integral to the development of liberal democracy. Therefore, while I shall treat liberalism and liberal democratic theory as distinguishable modes of political thought in certain contexts, I shall also, especially in later chapters, use the term ‘liberalism’ to connote both liberalism and liberal democracy. Again, the context in which these terms are used will, I hope, leave no ambiguity as to their meaning.

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It is som etim es said that while Locke advanced consideration of the principles of representative governm ent, it was the French philosopher and political theorist Charles Louis de Secondât, Baron de M ontesquieu (), who understood better th e necessary institutional innovations for the achievem ent of a reform ed representative governm ent. T here is som e tru th in this. M ontesquieu never justified at any length his preference for lim ited government. In broad terms, he was a follower of Locke, and an advocate of what he took to be the distinctively ‘English’ notions of freedom, toleration and m oderation which, he claimed, were admirably expressed (after ) by the English constitution itself: ‘th e m irror of liberty’. Against the background of m arked dissatisfaction w ith absolutist governm ent (the governm ent of Louis XIV in particular), he becam e preoccupied w ith how to secure a representative regim e d edicated to liberty an d capable of m inim izing corruption and

unacceptable m onopolies of privilege. Locke wrote little about the desirable characteristics of public power, or about the ways in which public power should be organized, while M ontesquieu devoted considerable energy to this question. He analysed a variety of conditions of freedom, but the one which is most notable concerns how constitutions might set inviolable limits to state action (see Bellamy, ). M ontesquieu cham pioned constitutional governm ent as the central m echanism for guaranteeing the rights of the (adult, male, property-owning) individual. Although he believed in a given, unchangeable natural law, his writings indicate as much, if not more, concern with the development of a system of positive law: a formal, explicitly designed legal structure for the regulation of public and private life. He defended urgently the idea of a society in which 'individuals” capacities and energies would be unleashed in the knowledge that privately initiated interests would be protected. M ontesquieu took for granted that there ‘are always persons distinguished by their birth, riches or honours’ who have ‘a right to check the licentiousness of the people’ (The Spirit o f Laws, p. 71 (first published )); an d he took for granted that there are m any people (among others, labourers and those without substantial wealth) who ‘are in so m ean a situation as to be deem ed to have no will of their ow n’. None the less, his writings advanced decisively the idea of a constitutional state m aintaining law an d order at hom e an d providing protection against aggression from abroad. He did not directly use the term ‘constitutional state’, but the argum ents he developed were aim ed in part at ‘depersonalizing’ the state’s power structure so that it might be less vulnerable to abuse by individuals and groups. M ontesquieu m uch adm ired the classical polis (see N. O. Keohane, ). He held in high esteem the ideal of active citizenship, dedication to the life of the political com m unity and the deep sense of civic duty which anim ated the ancient world. But the general conditions which had led to the florescence of the city-state in antiquity and Renaissance Italy had, he contended, disappeared for ever. As in a country of liberty, every m an who is supposed a free agent ought to be his own governor; the legislative power should reside in the whole body of the people. But since this is im possible in large states, and in small ones is subject to m any inconveniences, it is fit the people should transact by their representatives what they cannot transact by themselves. (The Spirit o f Laws, p. 71)

The emergence of states controlling substantial territories and the spread of free trade and the market econom y had created an irreversible trend towards social and political heterogeneity. Compare ancient an d contem porary Greece: ‘The politic Greeks, who lived under a popular government, knew no other support than virtue. The m odern inhabitants of that country are entirely taken up with manufacture, commerce, finances, opulence; and luxury’ (The Spirit of Laws, p. 21). The contrast betw een the ancient an d th e m odern is, according to M ontesquieu, one between particular locales, tightly knit communities, a frugal economy, a concern for virtue and civic discipline prom oting active citizenship, on the one hand, and large nation-states, centralized bureaucratic hierarchies,

loosely connected com m ercial societies, inequality of fortunes and the free pursuit of private interests, on the other (The Spirit o f Laws, pp. , 44ff; Krouse, , pp. ; cf. Pangle, ). U nder th e conditions of m odem life, M ontesquieu’s preferred form of governm ent was a state system modelled on the constitutional m onarchy of England. In so thinking, he w anted to connect notions of m onarchic governm ent rooted in claims to stability, honour and glory with a broader system of checks an d balances. Rearticulating both republican and liberal concerns about the problem of uniting private interest and the public good, he sought in institutional m eans a way to take account of the interests of different groups in public life while not sacrificing the liberty of the com m unity overall. M ontesquieu’s interpretation of the English constitution has been subjected to m uch criticism; it is often regarded as neither particularly accurate nor original. However, w hat he had to say about it was influential, especially on the founders of new political comm unities, notably in N orth America (see Ball, , pp. ; Manin, ).2 While classical Greek philosophers, as well as figures like Machiavelli an d Locke, had grasped th e significance of a ‘mixed state’ or ‘division of pow ers’ for the m aintenance of liberty, M ontesquieu m ade it pivotal to his overall teachings. The state m ust organize the representation of the interests of different powerful ‘groups’; th at is, it m ust be a ‘mixed regime’ balancing the position of the monarchy, the aristocracy and ‘the people’. W ithout such representation the law, he argued, will always be skewed to particular interests, governm ents will stagnate an d political order will be vulnerable in the long run. In his view, the aristocracy was essential to the effective m aintenance of a balance betw een the m onarchy an d 'th e people’, both of whom, w hen left to their own devices, inclined to despotism . But the liberty of th e individual an d m oderate governm ent depended, above all, on particular guarantees against oppression: c o n sta n t ex p erien ce show s u s th a t every m a n in v este d w ith p o w er is a p t to a b u se it, a n d to c arry his a u th o rity a s far a s it will go . . . To p re v e n t th is a b u se, it is n e ce ssa ry fro m th e very n a tu re o f th in g s th a t p o w er sh o u ld b e a check to pow er. A g o v e rn m e n t m ay b e so c o n stitu ted , a s n o m a n shall b e c o m p elled to do th in g s to w hich th e law d o e s n o t oblige him , n o r forced to a b sta in from things w h ic h th e law p e rm its. (The Spirit of Laws, p. 69)

M ontesquieu distinguished, in a m ore precise way than Locke had done, betw een th e executive, the legislature and the judiciary. And he was firmly of the view th at there would be no liberty w orth its nam e ‘were the sam e m an or the same body, w hether of the nobles or of the people, to exercise those three powers, th at of enacting laws, th at of executing public resolutions, and of trying the causes of individuals’ (The Spirit o f Laws, p. 70). In a famous chapter of The Spirit o f Laws (book XI, ch. 6 , pp. ), M ontesquieu argued that under m odern conditions liberty can only be based on the careful creation of an 2 it seem s that it is scarcely a n exaggeration to suggest that ‘Am erican republicans regarded selected doctrines of M ontesquieu’s as being on a par with Holy Writ’, the central points of w hich they could recite ‘as If it had been a catechism ’ (McDonald, , pp. ; and see the discussion of Madison, pp. , below).

institutionalized separation and balance of powers within the state. Previously, the idea of mixed governm ent had tended to m ean limited ‘participation’ of different estates within the state. By making the case for a constitution based upon three distinct organs with separate legal powers, M ontesquieu recast this idea and established an alternative account that was to be critical in attem pts to curtail highly centralized authority, on the one hand, and to ensure that ‘virtuous governm ent’ depended less on heroic individuals or civic discipline and m ore on a system of checks and balances, on the other. Executive power ought to be in the hands of the monarch; this branch of governm ent ‘having need of d ispatch’, M ontesquieu reasoned, ‘is better adm inistered by one than by m any’ {The Spirit o f Laws, p. 72). Decisive leadership, the creation of policy, the efficient adm inistration of law and the capacity to sustain a clear set of political priorities are marks of a 'glorious executive’. Accordingly, the executive ought to have the pow er to veto unacceptable legislation (legislation deem ed to encroach upon its power), regulate the meetings of the legislative body (their timing and duration) and control the army, for ‘from the very nature of the thing, its business consists more in action than in deliberation’ (pp. ). On the other hand, the m onarch’s powers m ust be restrained in law. To this end, it is vital that legislative power consist not only of the right to deliberate over policy and to am end and alter the law, but also of the right to hold the executive to account for unlawful acts, restrict the executive’s scope by retaining control of the fiscal basis of the state and, if necessary, disband the army or control it by the provision of finance on an annual basis (p. 74). All this M ontesquieu claimed to glean from the English constitution of his day. From the latter he also found grounds for approving the division of legislative power into two chambers: the one for hereditary nobles and the other for the representatives of ‘the people’, i.e. periodically elected individuals of distinction serving as trustees for the electorate’s interests (responsive to the latter, but not directly accountable to them). Between the two cham bers the views and interests of all ‘dignified’ opinion would be respected. The nobles would retain the right to reject legislation while ‘the com m ons’ would have the power of legal initiative. Separate from both these bodies m ust be the judiciary. Locke had thought of the judiciary as an arm of the executive, but M ontesquieu thought its independence was crucial to the protection of the rights of individuals. W ithout an independent judiciary, people might have to face the awesome power of a com bined executor, judge and jury - and then their rights could certainly not be guaranteed. M ontesquieu’s analysis of the separation of powers was neither systematic nor fully coherent (see Pangle, ; Ball, , pp. ; Bellamy, ). For instance, the precise powers of the executive and legislature were left quite ambiguous. However, his explication of these issues was far m ore penetrating than that of any of his predecessors. Moreover, his insights allowed him to offer clear reasons why the risks associated with government in extended territories - risks, that is, of succum bing to despotism or powerful interests - m ight be overcome. Montesquieu was aware that in ‘an extensive republic there are m en of large fortunes, and consequently of less m oderation’ and that ‘the public good’ could be ‘sacrificed to a thousand private views’ (The Spirit o f Laws, p. ). But he thought

that the division of powers could pose a fundamental obstacle to ‘immoderate fortune’; and that, if entrenched in a ‘confederate republic’ - a republic built upon smaller governmental units - it might be possible for some of the freedoms associated with city-republican government to be enjoyed while preserving sufficient legal and political competence to resist both ‘internal corruption’ and ‘external enem ies’ (pp. ff). The great significance of Montesquieu’s political writings lies in his thesis that in a world in which individuals are ambitious and place their own particular interests above all others, institutions m ust be created which can convert such ambition into good and effective government (see Krouse, , pp. ). By institutionalizing a separation of powers, and by providing a forum within the state for contending groups and factions to clash, Montesquieu thought he had uncovered a most practical and valuable political arrangement for the m odem world: a world properly divided into the ‘public sphere’ of state politics run by men, on the one hand, and the ‘private sphere’ of economy, family life, women and children, on the other. For him, liberty, as has been aptly remarked, ‘does not flourish because men have natural rights or because they revolt if their rulers press them too far; it flourishes because power is so distributed and organized that whoever is tem pted to abuse it finds legal restraints in his way’ (Plamenatz, , pp. ). However, in exploring the relation betw een state and civil society, M ontesquieu ultimately failed to establish adequate arguments and mechanisms for the protection of the sphere of private initiative. He spent enorm ous energy trying to explain variations in political structures by reference to geographical, climatic and historical conditions. These determined, in his account, the specific nature of the laws and the customs and practices of nations and states. Political possibilities were circum scribed by geo-climatic factors as well as by the organization of power. This contention is certainly plausible, but it generated a num ber of difficulties about reconciling, on the one hand, the view that there was considerable scope for constitutional change and, on the other hand, the view that political life was determ ined by natural and historical circumstances beyond particular agents’ control. Second, a fundam ental difficulty lay at the very heart of his conception of liberty. Liberty, he wrote, ‘is the right of doing whatever the law perm its’. People are free to pursue their activities within the framework of the law. But if freedom is defined in direct relation to the law, there is no possibility of arguing coherently that freedom might depend on altering the law or that the law itself m ight u n d er certain circum stances articulate tyranny. Despite M ontesquieu’s defence of im portant institutional innovations, he formally resolved the dilem ma of balancing the relation between state and society in favour of the former; that is, in favour of the lawmakers. In democratic terms, the position would have been m ore acceptable if the lawmakers had been held accountable to the people. But M ontesquieu thought of few people as potential voters; he did not conceive of legislators or representatives as accountable to the electorate, and he ascribed the m onarch vast power, including the capacity to dissolve the legislature. In addition, he ignored im portant issues that had been central to Locke: the right of citizens to dispense with their ‘trustees’ or alter their form of government if the need arose. In M ontesquieu’s thought, the governed rem ained in the end accountable to the governors.

The id ea o f protectiv e dem ocracy: a résu m é a n d e lab o ra tio n Since Hobbes, a (if not the) central question of liberal political theory has been how, in a world m arked by the legitimate and reasonable pursuit of self-interest, governm ent can be sustained, and w hat form governm ent should take, Hobbes was the theorist p a r excellence who d ep arted system atically from the assum ptions of the classical polis; only a strong protective state could reduce adequately the dangers citizens faced when left to their own devices. Locke’s modification of this argum ent was decisive: there were no good reasons to suppose that the governors would on their own initiative provide an adequate fram ew ork for citizens to p u rsu e their interests freely. In different but com plem entary ways, Locke and M ontesquieu argued that there m ust be limits upon legally sanctioned political power. But neither of these thinkers developed their argum ents to w hat seems today at least their logical conclusion. The protection of liberty requires a form of political equality am ong all m ature individuals: a formally equal capacity to protect their interests from the arbitrary acts of either the state or fellow citizens. It was not until this insight was developed systematically that the protective theory of democracy was fully expressed, although it has been contended here that m any of the theory’s central elem ents find their origin and m ost succinct analysis in the political writings of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Two classic statem ents of the protective theory of democracy will be focused upon now: the political philosophy of one of the key architects of the American constitution, James Madison (); and the views of two of the key spokesm en of n ineteenth-century ‘English liberalism ’, Jerem y Bentham () and James Mill (). In their hands, the protective theory of liberal dem ocracy received arguably its m ost im portant elaboration: the governors m ust be held accountable to the governed through political mechanisms (the secret ballot, regular voting and com petition between potential representatives, am ong other things) which give citizens satisfactory means for choosing, authorizing an d controlling political decisions. Through these mechanisms, it was argued, a balance could be attained between might and right, authority and liberty. But despite this decisive step, who exactly were to count as 'individuals’, and w hat the exact nature of their envisaged political participation was, remained either unclear or unsettled in the Anglo-American world.

The problem of factions

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In a series of extraordinary writings in the Federalist (published in ), Madison translated some of H obbes’s, Locke’s and M ontesquieu’s m ost notable ideas into a coherent political theory and strategy. He accepted, in the tradition of Hobbes, that politics is founded on self-interest. Following Locke, he recognized the central im portance of protecting individual freedom through the institution of a public power that is legally circum scribed and accountable ultimately to the governed. And following M ontesquieu, he regarded the principle of a separation of powers as central to the formation of a legitimate state. But his own position can perhaps best be grasped in relation to his

assessm ent of classical democracy. For in his thought, classical democracy is thoroughly criticized, if not fully repudiated, an d w hat threads rem ain of the republican tradition overall - especially its concern w ith the corruption of public life by private interests, its anti-m onarchical focus and its advocacy of mixed governm ent - are rearticulated an d com bined w ith liberal em phases. Unlike M ontesquieu, who adm ired the ancient republics b u t thought their ‘spirit’ underm ined by the forces of ‘m odernization’, Madison was extremely critical of both the republics an d their spirit. His judgem ent is similar to Plato’s (see pp. above), an d sometimes seems even m ore severe, underpinned as it is by Hobbesian assum ptions about hum an nature. In M adison’s account, ‘pure democracies’ (by which he m eans societies ‘consisting of a small num ber of citizens, who assem ble an d adm inister the governm ent in person’) have always been intolerant, unjust an d unstable. In the politics of these states a com m on passion or interest, felt by the majority of citizens, generally shapes political judgements, policies an d actions. Moreover, the direct nature of all 'com m un­ ication an d concert’ m eans invariably th at ‘there is nothing to check the inducem ents to sacrifice the weaker party or an obnoxious individual’ (Madison, The Federalist Papers, no. 10, p. 20). As a consequence, pure democracies ‘have been spectacles of tu rbulence an d c o n te n tio n ’ a n d have always been ‘incom patible w ith personal security or the rights of property’. It can com e as no surprise th at ‘they have in general been as short in their lives as they have been violent in their deaths’. M adison is scathing about ‘theoretic politicians’ who have ‘patronized this species of governm ent an d have erroneously supposed that by reducing m ankind to a perfect equality in their political rights, they would, at the sam e time, be perfectly equalized and assim ilated in their possessions, their opinions, an d their passions’ (no. 10, p. 20). History testifies, from classical times to the Renaissance, that such suppositions are far from the truth. Dissent, argum ent, clashes of judgem ent, conflicts of interest an d the constant formation of rival and com peting factions are inevitable. They are inevitable because their causes ‘are sown in the nature of m an ’ (The Federalist Papers, no. 10, p. 18). Diversity in capacities and faculties, fallibility in reasoning and judgem ent, zeal for a quick opinion, attachm ent to different leaders, as well as a desire for a vast range of different objects - all these constitute ‘insuperable obstacles’ to uniformity in the interpretation of priorities an d interests. Reason and self-love are intimately connected, creating a reciprocal influence between rationality and passion. Where civic virtue has been proclaimed, it has been a mask generally for ceaseless, self-interested m otion. The search for p re­ eminence, power and profit are inescapable elem ents of the hum an condition which have constantly divided m a n k in d . . . in flam ed th e m w ith m u tu a l anim osity, a n d re n d e re d th e m m u c h m o re d isp o se d to vex a n d o p p re ss e a c h o th e r th a n to c o -o p e ra te for th e ir c o m m o n good. So stro n g is this p ro p e n sity o f m a n k in d to fall in to m u tu a l a n im o sitie s, th a t w h e n n o su b s ta n tia l o c c a sio n p re s e n ts itself, th e m o st friv o lo u s a n d fa n cifu l d is tin c tio n s h a v e b e e n su ffic ie n t to k in d le th e ir u n frien d ly p a ssio n s a n d excite th eir m o st vio len t conflicts. ( The Federalist Papers, no. 10, p. 18)

But the most com m on and durable source of antagonism and factionalism, M adison argued, has always been ‘the various and unequal distribution of property’. Those who hold property and those who are without have consistently formed ‘distinct interests in society’. This em phasis on the role of property was shared by m any of the m ost prom inent political theorists from Plato onwards. (It is intriguing, though, that it has been rejected m ost frequently by twentiethcentury liberals and liberal democrats.) In M adison’s hands, it led to an appreciation that all nations are divided by classes founded on property, 'actuated by different sentim ents and views’. Unlike Marx, Engels and Lenin, who later sought to resolve the political problem s posed by class conflict by recom m ending the removal of their cause (i.e. the abolition of private ownership of productive property), M adison contended that any such am bition was hopelessly unrealistic. Even if ‘enlightened statesm en’ could radically reduce the unequal possession and distribution of property - and it is very doubtful that they could, for hum an beings always recreate patterns of inequality - a homogeneity of interests would not follow. Thus, Madison concluded, ‘the inference to which we are brought’ is that relief from factional disputes 'is only to be sought in the means of controlling its effects’ (no. 10, p. 19). The formation of factions is inescapable; and the problem of politics is the problem of containing factions. By a faction, M adison understood ‘a num ber of citizens, w hether am ounting to a m ajority or m inority of the whole, who are united and actuated by some com m on im pulse or passion, or interest, adverse to the rights of other citizens, or the perm anent and aggregate interests of the com m unity’ (The Federalist Papers, no. 10, p. 17). The task he set him self was to find ways of regulating 'the various and interfering interests’ in such a way th at they becom e involved in the ‘necessary and ordinary operations of governm ent’. Madison argued for a powerful American state as a safeguard against tyranny and as a m eans to control ‘th e violence of faction’, b u t it was to be a state organized on 'representative principles’, with governm ent facing the judgem ent of all citizens on a regular basis; that is, facing the electoral pow er of citizens to change their leaders. M adison’s argum ents som etim es suggest that he thought of citizenship as a universal category, applying to all adults irrespective of sex, colour and the possession of property. But while he thought of the franchise as legitimately extending to m ore people than Locke or M ontesquieu would ever have found acceptable, it is very im probable indeed, given the tim e w hen he was writing, that he would have supported the extension of the vote to women, white nonpropertied working people and black slaves. Certainly, a m uch m ore restrictive view of the scope of the voting population is outlined in some of his writings (see Madison, in Meyers, ; Main, ). None the less, he clearly thought that a form of ‘popular governm ent’ with a federal structure and a division of powers would not only ameliorate the worst consequences of factions, but crucially involve citizens in the political process of protecting their own interests. The political difficulties caused by m inority interest groups can be overcome by the ballot box, ‘which enables the majority to defeat their sinister views by regular vote’ (The Federalist Papers, no. 10, p. 19). The major difficulties posed by factions, however, occur when one faction forms a majority. For then there is a danger that the very form of popular governm ent itself will enable such a group

to ‘sacrifice to its ruling passions or interests both the public good and the rights of other citizens’. The ‘tyranny of the majority’, as it has often been called, can only be forestalled by particular constitutional arrangem ents. Of these, a system of political representation and a large electoral body are essential. Political representation involves the perm anent transfer of government to ‘a small num ber of citizens elected by the rest’ (The Federalist Papers, no. 10, p. 21). It involves representatives acting as the trustees of the electors, making up their own minds and exercising their own judgem ent about their constituents’ interests and how these might m ost appropriately be m et (see Ball, , pp. ).3 Such a system, Madison argued, is important, since public views can be ‘refined and enlarged’ when ‘passed through the m edium of a chosen body of citizens’. Representative governm ent overcomes the excesses of ‘pure democracy’ because elections themselves force a clarification of public issues; and the elected few, able to w ithstand the political process, are likely to be com petent and capable of ‘discerning the true interest of their country’, i.e. the interests of all citizens. But representative rule alone is not a sufficient condition for the protection of citizens: it cannot in itself stop the elected from degenerating into a powerful exploitative faction. At this point, M adison offered a novel argum ent, contrary to the whole spirit of ‘pure dem ocracies’, about the virtue of scale in public affairs. An ‘extended republic’, covering a large territory and em bracing a substantial population, is an essential condition of non-oppressive government. Several reasons are given. In the first instance, the num ber of representatives m ust be raised to a certain level 'to guard against the cabals of the few’ (while not being so numerous, Madison quickly added, as to risk 'th e confusion of a m ultitude’) (The Federalist Papers, no. 10, p. 21). More importantly, if the proportion of ‘fit characters’ is constant in both a small and a large republic, the latter will possess a far greater num ber from w hom the electorate can choose. Further, in a large state representatives will be chosen by an extended electorate, who are more likely to spot ‘unw orthy candidates’. And in a large state with an econom y based on the pursuit of private wants, there is inevitably great social diversity and, therefore, less chance of a tyrannous m ajority forming am ong either the electorate or the elected. Social diversity helps create political fragmentation, which prevents an excessive accum ulation of power.4 Although representatives might becom e progressively m ore rem ote and im personal in a large state, a federal constitution - which binds overlapping com m unities together - can offset this: ‘the great and aggregate interests being referred to the national, the local and particular to the State legislatures’ (no. 10, p. 22). If, finally, the respective legal powers of the executive, legislature and judiciary are separated at both national and local levels, freedom can best be protected. 3 This view of representation is sometimes referred to as the ‘independence’ theory, since it places emphasis on citizens being best served by their representatives when the latter act to a significant degree independently of them, it contrasts with the ‘delegate’ account of representation, commonly advocated by the Marxist tradition, in which the duty of representatives is to present faithfully the immediate views and interests of their constituents (see Pitkin, , ch. 7). 4 This argument had a profound influence on the ‘pluralist’ tradition after World War H (see ch. 6 below).

M adison’s concern w ith faction-based politics an d his solution to the problem of how to unite the private interest to the public good was inspired partly by a Machiavellian conception of republicanism , em phasizing the necessity to shape politically and institutionally a com m itm ent to the public realm (see pp. above; Bellamy, ). W ithin this framework, he interpreted the role of representatives and of a strong federal state not simply negatively as devices to be adopted in the light of the undesirability of direct democracy, but also positively as institutional vehicles to establish a form of politics with the best chance of creating serious deliberation and effective decision-making in public life. But his account of the extended republic should not be confused with earlier classic interpretations of civic life and the public realm. The theoretical focus is no longer on the rightful place of the active citizen in the life of the political community; it is, instead, on the legitimate pursuit by individuals of their interests and on governm ent as, above all, a m eans for the enhancem ent of these interests. Although M adison sought clear ways of reconciling particular interests to ‘the republic’, his position signals the clear interlocking of protective republican with liberal preoccupations (cf. Wood, ; Pocock, , pp. ). Thus, he conceived of the federal representative state as the key m echanism to aggregate individuals’ interests and to protect their rights. In such a state, he believed, security of person and property could be sustained, and politics could be m ade com patible w ith the dem ands of large, m odern nation-states with their complex patterns of trade, commerce and international relations. To sum m arize his views, in the w ords of one com m entator. o n ly . . . a sovereign national governm ent of truly continental scope, can assure non-oppressive popular rule. A republican leviathan is necessary to secure life, liberty, and property from the tyranny of local majorities. The extended republic is not simply a m eans of adapting popular rule to new political realities, but an inherently desirable corrective for deep intrinsic defects in the politics of the small popular regime. (Krouse, , p. 66)

Madison’s preoccupation with faction and his desire to protect individuals from powerful collectivities was an ambiguous project in certain respects. On the one hand, it raised important questions about the principles, procedures and institutions of popular government and about the necessity to defend them against impulsive, unreasonable action, whatever its source. Critics of democracy have frequently raised these matters: how ‘popular’ regimes remain stable, how representatives are held to account, how citizens understand the ‘rules of the political game’ and in what ways they follow them are all legitimate considerations. On the other hand, if these questions are pursued at the expense of all others, they can readily be associated with an unjustified conservative desire to find a way of protecting, above all, ‘the haves’ (a minority) from the ‘have nots’ (the rest). Madison insisted, as have all critics of democracy and nearly all theorists of protective democracy, on a natural right to private property. The basis of this right remains mysterious and it was precisely this mystery (as we shall see) that Marx and Engels sought to disentangle. Madison was in favour of popular government so long as there was no risk that the majority could turn the instruments of state policy against a minority’s privilege. Despite the

considerable novelty and significance of his overall arguments, Madison was unquestionably a reluctant democrat. He had this in common with Jeremy Bentham and James Mill, who, for my purposes here, can be discussed together.

Accountability and markets Bentham and Mill were impressed by the progress and m ethods of the natural sciences and were decidedly secular in their orientations. They thought of concepts like natural right and social contract as misleading philosophical fictions which failed to explain the real basis of citizens’ interests, commitment and duty to the state. This basis could be uncovered, they argued, by grasping the primitive and irreducible elements of actual hum an behaviour. The key to their understanding of hum an beings lies in the thesis that hum ans act to satisfy desire and avoid pain. Their argument, in brief, is as follows: the overriding motivation of hum an beings is to fulfil their desires, maximize their satisfaction or utility and minimize their suffering; society consists of individuals seeking as much utility as they can get from whatever it is they want; individuals’ interests always conflict with one another for ‘a grand governing law of hum an nature’ is, as Hobbes thought, to subordinate ‘the persons and properties of hum an beings to our pleasures’ (see Bentham, Fragment on Government). Since those who govern will naturally act in the same way as the governed, government must, if its systematic abuse is to be avoided, be directly accountable to an electorate called upon frequently to decide whether their objectives have been met. With these argum ents, the protective theory of dem ocracy received its clearest explication (see Macpherson, , ch. 2; cf. Harrison, , ch. 6). For Bentham and Mill, liberal dem ocracy was associated with a political apparatus that would ensure the accountability of the governors to the governed. Only through democratic governm ent would there be a satisfactory m eans for generating political decisions com m ensurate with the public interest, i.e. the interests of the m ass of individuals. As Bentham wrote: ‘A democracy . . . has for its characteristic object and effect. . . securing its m em bers against oppression and depredation at the hands of those functionaries which it employs for its defence’ (Bentham, Constitutional Code, book I, p. 47). Democratic governm ent is required to protect citizens from despotic use of political power w hether it be by a m onarch, the aristocracy or other groups. For the tem ptation to abuse power in the public sphere - to act corruptly - is as universal as the force of gravity. Only through the vote, the secret ballot, com petition betw een potential political representatives, a separation of powers, and freedom of the press, speech and public association could ‘the interest of the com m unity in general’ be sustained (see Bentham, Fragm ent on Government, and J. Mill, An Essay on Government). Bentham, Mill and the utilitarians generally (i.e. all those who defended the utility principle) provided one of the clearest justifications for the liberal democratic state, which ensures the conditions necessary for individuals to pursue their interests w ithout risk of arbitrary political interference, to participate freely in economic transactions, to exchange labour and goods on the m arket and to appropriate resources privately. These ideas were at the core of nineteenth-century ‘English liberalism’: the state was to have the role of

um pire or referee while individuals pursued in civil society, according to the rules of economic com petition and free exchange, their own interests. Periodic elections, the abolition of the powers of the monarchy, the division of powers within the state, plus the free market, would lead to the m axim um benefit for all citizens. The free vote and the free market, were sine qua non. For a key presupposition was that the collective good could be properly realized in m any dom ains of life only if individuals interacted in competitive exchanges, pursuing their utility with m inim al state interference. Significantly, however, this argument had another side. Tied to the advocacy of a ‘minimal’ state, whose scope and power were to be strictly limited, there was a com m itm ent in fact to certain types of state intervention, for instance the curtailment of the behaviour of the disobedient, whether individuals, groups or classes (see J. Mill, ‘Prisons and prison discipline’). Those who challenged the security of property or the market society threatened the realization of the public good. In the name of the public good, the utilitarians advocated a new system of administrative power for ‘person m anagem ent’ (cf. Foucault, , part 3; Ignatieff, , ch. 6). Prison systems were a mark of this new age. Moreover, whenever laissez-faire was inadequate to ensure the best possible outcomes, state intervention was justified to reorder social relations and institutions. The enactm ent and enforcement of law, and the creation of policies and institutions, were legitimate to the extent that they all upheld the principle of utility; that is, to the extent they contributed directly to the achievement, by means of careful calculation, of the greatest happiness for the greatest num ber - the only scientifically defensible criterion, Bentham and Mill contended, of the public good. Within this overall framework government ought to pursue four subsidiary goals: to help provide subsistence by protecting workers and by making them secure in the knowledge that they will receive the fruits of their labour; to help produce abund­ ance by ensuring no political obstacles to ‘natural incentives’ to m eet one’s needs through work; to favour equality, because increased increments of material goods do not bring successively more happiness to those who possess them (the law of diminishing utility); and to maintain security of individual goods and wealth (see Bentham, Principles o f the Civil Code). Of these four objectives the last is by far the most critical; for without security of goods and property there would be no incentive for individuals to work and generate wealth: labour would be insufficiently productive and commerce could not prosper. Accordingly, given the necessity to choose between ‘equality’ and ‘security’ in public policy and law, the former m ust yield to the latter (Principles of the Civil Code, part I, ch. 11). If the state pursues security (along with the other goals to the extent that they are compatible), it will, Bentham maintained, be in the citizen’s self-interest to obey it. Utilitarianism, and its synthesis with the economic doctrines of Adam Smith (), had a m ost radical edge. First, it represented a decisive challenge to excessively centralized political power and, in particular, to hitherto unquestioned regulations im posed on civil society. Liberalism’s constant challenge to the power of the state has in this respect been of enduring significance. Second, utilitarianism helped generate a new conception of the nature and role of politics; it provided a defence of selective electorally controlled state intervention to help maximize the public good. Bentham, for instance, became a supporter of a plan

for free education, a m inim um wage and sickness benefits. The utilitarian legacy has had a strong influence on the shaping of the politics of the welfare state (see ch. 6). On the other hand, it has to be stressed, Bentham’s and Mill’s conception of the legitimate participants in, and scope of, democratic politics has m uch in comm on with the typically restrictive views of the liberal tradition generally: ‘politics’, the ‘public sphere’ and ‘public affairs’ rem ained synonymous with the realm of men, especially m en of property. From Hobbes to Bentham and James Mill the patriarchal structure of public (and private) life, and its relation to the distribution of property, were persistently taken for granted. For instance, in considering the extent of the franchise, Bentham and Mill found grounds at one time for excluding, am ong others, the female population and large sections of the labouring classes, despite the fact that m any of their arguments seemed to point squarely in the direction of universal suffrage. It should be noted, however, that Bentham becam e m uch more radical on the question of the suffrage than Mill and, in later life, abandoned his earlier reservations about universal m anhood suffrage, though he retained some reservations about the proper extent of women’s political involvement. Bentham’s and Mill’s ideas have been appropriately referred to as a ‘founding model of democracy for a modem industrial society’ (Macpherson, , pp. ). Their account of democracy establishes it as a logical requirement for the governance of a society, freed from absolute power and tradition, in which individuals have unlimited desires, form a body of mass consumers and are dedicated to the maximization of private satisfaction. Democracy, accordingly, becomes a means for the enhancem ent of these ends, not an end in itself for, perhaps, the cultivation and development of all people. As such, Bentham’s and Mill’s views represent at best, along with the whole tradition of protective democracy, a very partial or one-sided form of democratic theory (see Pateman, , ch. 1). What is democratic politics? While the scope of politics in Athenian democracy and in the Renaissance republican tradition extended to all the com m on affairs of the city-republic, the liberal tradition of protective democracy (summarized in model Ilia) pioneered a narrow er view: the political is equated with the world of governm ent or governments and with the activities of individuals, factions or interest groups who press their claims upon it. Politics is regarded as a distinct and separate sphere in society, a sphere set apart from economy, culture and family life. In the liberal tradition, politics m eans, above all, governmental activity and institutions. A stark consequence of this is that issues concerning, for instance, the organization of the econom y or violence against women in marriage are typically thought of as non-political, an outcom e of ‘free’ private contracts in civil society, not a public issue or a m atter for the state (see Pateman, , ).5 This is a very restrictive view, and one that will be subsequently rejected. But having noted it, it is also im portant to stress that the liberal idea of protective dem ocracy has had profound effects. 5 Despite the broader conception of politics in Greek thought, it is not at all ciear that the Greeks would have addressed themselves to these particular questions (see Okin, ; Saxonhouse, ). On Renaissance republicanism, cf. Pitkin (); Phillips ().

In sum: model Illa

Protective Democracy Principle(s) o f justification Citizens require protection from the governors, as well as from each other, to ensure that those who govern pursue policies that are commensurate with citizens' interests as a whole Key features Sovereignty ultimately lies in the people, but is vested in representatives who can legitimately exercise state functions Regular elections, the secret ballot, competition between factions, potential leaders or parties, and majority rule are the institutional bases for establishing the accountability of those who govern State powers must be impersonal, i.e. legally circumscribed, and divided among the executive, the legislature and the judiciary Centrality of constitutionalism to guarantee freedom from arbitrary treatment and equality before the law in the form of political and civil rights or liberties, above all those connected to freedom of speech, expression, association, voting and belief Separation of state from civil society, i.e. the scope of state action is, in general; tö be tightly restricted to the creation of a framework which allows citizens to pursue their private lives free from risks of violence, unacceptable social behaviour and unwanted political interference Competing power centres and interest groups General conditions Development of a politically autonomous civil society Private ownership of the means of production Competitive market economy Patriarchal family Extended territorial reach of the nation-state Note: The model presents, like many of the others in this volume, a general summary of a'tradition; it is not an attempt to represent accurately, nor could it, the particular positions and the many important differences among the political theorists examined.

The idea of freedom from overarching political authority (‘negative freedom’, as it has been called) shaped the attack from the late sixteenth century on the old state regimes of Europe and was the perfect complement to the growing market society; for freedom of the market m eant in practice leaving the circumstances of people’s lives to be determ ined by private initiatives in production, distribution and exchange. But the liberal conception pf negative freedom is linked to another notion, the idea of choosing am ong alternatives. A core element of freedom derives from the actual capacity to pursue different choices and courses of action (‘positive freedom’). This notion was not developed systematically by the liberal tradition we have considered, although some pertinent issues were pursued by James Mill’s son, John Stuart Mill (), whose work is examined next None

the less, the liberal idea of political equality as a necessary condition of freedom the formally equal capacity of citizens to protect their own interests - contains an implicitly egalitarian ideal with unsettling consequences for the liberal order (see Mansbridge, , pp. ). If individuals’ interests m ust have equal protection because only individuals can decide in the end what they want and because, hence, their interests have equal weight in principle, then two questions arise: should not all m ature individuals (irrespective of sex, colour, creed and wealth) have an equally weighted way of protecting their interests, i.e. a vote and equal citizenship rights m ore generally? Should not one consider whether in fact individual interests can be protected equally by the political m echanisms of liberal democracy, i.e. whether the latter creates an equal distribution of political power? The first of these considerations was at the centre of the struggle for the extension of the franchise in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Many of the arguments of the liberal democrats could be turned against the status quo to reveal the extent to which democratic principles remained in practice unapplied. The second consideration becam e central to Marxist, feminist and other radical traditions. While each step towards formal political equality is an advance, ‘real freedom’ is undercut by massive inequalities which have their roots in the social relations of private production and reproduction. The issues posed by this standpoint require careful examination, but they are not confronted directly in model Ilia This is hardly surprising, given the model’s preoccupation, in the last instance, with the legitimation of the politics and economics of self-interest.

Liberty and the development of democracy If Bentham and James Mill were reluctant dem ocrats but prepared to develop argum ents to justify dem ocratic institutions, John Stuart Mill was a clear advocate of democracy, preoccupied with the extent of individual liberty in all spheres of hum an endeavour. Liberal democratic or representative governm ent was im portant for him, not just because it established boundaries for the pursuit of individual satisfaction, but because it was an im portant aspect of the free developm ent of individuality. Participation in political life - voting, involvement in local adm inistration and jury service - was vital, he m aintained, to create a direct interest in governm ent and, consequently, a basis for an inform ed and developing citizenry, m ale or female, and for a dynamic ‘developmental polity’. Like Rousseau and W ollstonecraft before him, Mill conceived of democratic politics as a prim e m echanism of moral self-development (cf. M acpherson, , ch. 3; Dunn, , pp. ). The ‘highest and harm onious’ expansion of individual capacities was a central concern.6 However, this concern did not lead him to cham pion any form of direct democratic rule or non-representative democracy; he was extremely sceptical, as we shall see, of all such conceptions. John Stuart Mill largely set the course of m odern liberal dem ocratic thought. Writing during a period of intense discussion about the reform of British 6 Mill likened periodic voting to the passing of a ‘verdict by a juryman’: ideally the considered outcome of a process of active deliberation about the facts of public affairs, not a mere expression of personal interest.

government, Mill sought to defend a conception of political life m arked by enhanced individual liberty, m ore accountable governm ent and an efficient governmental adm inistration unhindered by corrupt practices and excessively complex regulations. The threats to these aspirations came, in his view, from m any places, including ‘the establishm ent’, which sought to resist change, the dem ands of newly form ed social classes an d groups who were in danger of forcing the pace of change in excess of their training and general preparedness, and the governm ent apparatus itself which, in the context of the multiple pressures generated by a growing industrial nation, was in danger of expanding its managerial role beyond desirable limits. Unfolding Mill’s view on these issues brings into clear relief m any of the questions that have becom e central to contem porary dem ocratic thought. Mill’s distinctive approach to the liberty of the individual is brought out most clearly in his famous and influential study On Liberty (). The aim of this text is to elaborate and defend a principle which will establish ‘the nature and limits of the power which can be legitimately exercised by society over the individual’, a matter rarely explored by those who advocate direct forms of democracy (On Liberty, p. 59; and pp. , , of this volume). Mill recognized that some regulation and interference in individuals’ lives is necessary but sought an obstacle to arbitrary and self-interested intervention. He put the crucial point thus: The object . . . is to assert one very simple principle, as entitled to govern absolutely the dealings of society with the individual in the way of com pulsion and control, w hether the m eans used be physical force in the form of legal penalties or the m oral coercion of public opinion. That principle is th at the sole end for which m ankind are w arranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their num ber is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any m em ber of a civilized comm unity, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. (On Liberty, p. 68)

Social or political interference with individual liberty m ay be justified only when an act (or failure to act), w hether it be intended or not, ‘concerns others’ and then only when it ‘harm s’ others. The sole end of interference with liberty should be self-protection. In those activities which are m erely ‘self-regarding’, i.e. only of concern to the individual, ‘independence is, of right, absolute’: for ‘over himself, over his own body an d mind, the individual is sovereign’ (On Liberty, p. 69). Mill’s principle is, in fact, anything b u t ‘very sim ple’: its m eaning and im plications rem ain far from clear. For instance, w hat exactly constitutes ‘harm to others’? Does inadequate education cause harm? Does the existence of massive inequalities of w ealth and incom e cause harm? Does the publication of pornography cause harm? But leaving aside questions such as these for the m om ent, it should be noted that in his hands the principle helped generate a defence of m any of the key liberties associated w ith liberal dem ocratic governm ent. These are, first, liberty of thought, feeling, discussion and publication (unburdening ‘the inward dom ain of consciousness’); second, liberty of tastes and pursuits (‘fram ing the plan of our life to suit our own

character’); an d third, liberty of association or com bination so long as, of course, it causes no harm to others (On Liberty, pp. ). The ‘only freedom which deserves the nam e is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attem pt to deprive others of theirs or im pede their efforts to obtain it’ (p. 72). For Mill the principle of liberty provided a point of dem arcation betw een the people and the power of government; and through its specification in clusters of distinct liberties it could help delineate ‘the appropriate region’ of hum an freedom and, thus, the necessary dom ains of action citizens require in order to control their own lives. And it is by and through this freedom, he argued, that citizens can develop and determ ine the scope an d direction of their own polity. He contended, moreover, that the current practice of both rulers and citizens was generally opposed to his doctrine and, unless a ‘strong barrier of m oral conviction’ could be established against such bad habits, growing infringem ents on the liberty of citizens could be expected as the state expanded to cope w ith the pressures of the m odern age (On Liberty, ch. 5).

The dangers of despotic power and an overgrown state The uniqueness of Mill’s position becom es very clear if we set it, as he did, against w hat he took to be, first, the unacceptable nature of ‘despotic power’, which in various guises was still cham pioned by some influential figures during his lifetime, and, second, the risk of ever greater infringements on the liberty of citizens if the state developed too rapidly in an attem pt to control complex national an d international problem s. There was plenty of evidence, Mill m aintained, to suggest that an ‘overgrown state’ was a real possibility.7 In Considerations on Representative Government (), Mill criticized the absolutist state (which he referred to as ‘absolute m onarchy’) and, more generally, the despotic use of political power, first, for reasons of inefficiency and impracticality in the long run and, second, on the grounds of undesirability per se. Against all those who advocated a form of absolute power, Mill argued that it could lead to a ‘virtuous and intelligent’ perform ance of the tasks of governm ent only u n d e r the following extraordinary an d unrealizable conditions: that the absolute m onarch or despot be not only ‘good’, but ‘allseeing’; th at detailed inform ation be available at all times on the conduct and working of every branch of governm ent in every district of the country; that an effective share of attention be given to all problem s in this vast field; and that the capacity exist for a ‘discerning choice’ of all the personnel necessary for public adm in istratio n (Considerations, pp. ). The ‘faculties an d energies’ presupposed for the m aintenance of such an arrangem ent are, Mill says, beyond the reach of ordinary m ortals and, hence, all forms of absolute power are unfeasible in the long run. But even if, for the sake of argum ent, we could find superm ortals fit for absolute power, would we w ant w hat we should then have: 7 It is interesting to note that Mill’s arguments against absolutism parallel contemporary arguments against the possibility of centralized planning, while his arguments against a large, unwieldy state parallel many aspects of today’s debates on the same topic.

‘one m an of superhum an m ental activity m anaging the entire affairs of a mentally passive people?’ (p. ). Mill’s answer is an unam biguous ‘n o ’; for any political system which deprives individuals of a ‘potential voice in their own destiny’ underm ines the basis of hum an dignity, threatens social justice and denies the best circum stances for hum ans to enjoy ‘the greatest am ount of beneficial consequences deriving from their activities '.8 Human dignity would be threatened by absolute power, for without an opportunity to participate in the regulation of affairs in which one has an interest, it is hard to discover one's own needs and wants, arrive at tried-andtested judgem ents and develop m ental excellence of an intellectual, practical and moral kind. Active involvement in determ ining the conditions of one’s existence is the prim e m echanism for the cultivation of hum an reason and moral development. Social Justice would be violated because people are better defenders of their own rights and interests than any non-elected ‘representative’ can be an d is ever likely to be. The best safeguard against the disregarding of an individual’s rights consists in his O r her being able to participate routinely in their articulation. Finally, w hen people are engaged in the resolution of problems affecting themselves or the whole collectivity, energies are unleashed which enhance the likelihood of the creation of imaginative solutions and successful strategies. In short, participation in social and public life undercuts passivity an d enhances general prosperity ‘in proportion to the am ount and variety of the personal energies enlisted in prom oting it’ (Considerations, pp. , ). The conclusion Mill draws from these argum ents is that a representative government, the scope and power of which is tightly restricted by the principle of liberty, an d laissez-faire, the principle of which should govern economic relations in general, are the essential conditions of ‘free com m unities’ and ‘brilliant prosperity’ (Considerations, p. ).9 Before com m enting further on Mill’s account of the ‘Ideally best form of polity’ an d the ‘ideally best form of economy’, it is illuminating to focus on w hat h e considered a m ajor m odem threat to them: ‘th e tyranny of the majority’ an d th e burgeoning of governmental power.

From popular government to the threat o f bureaucracy The questions posed by th e possibility of a tyrannous m ajority have already been raised in a num ber of different contexts: as issues of direct concern to the critics of classical dem ocracy an d republicanism, an d as a problem addressed directly by defenders of protective democracy (Madison). However, it was the French 8 Mill extensively criticized m any of the assum ptions o f B entham ’s utilitarian doctrines, introduced to him directly by his father and by Bentham him self (to w hom he, for a tim e, served as secretary), b u t h e affirm ed the general principle of utility as the fundam ental criterion for determ ining w hat are just ends, or w hat is right. However, his defence of this principle by no m eans led him to apply it unam biguously (cf. Ryan, , ch. 4; H anison, , pp. ). 9 I shall n o t b e concerned here with m any of the apparent inconsistencies in Mill’s argument. For example, he was quite prepared to justify despotic rule over 'dependent’ territories. For a n interesting recent com m entary see Ryan (), a n d for a full study see D uncan ().

theorist an d historian Alexis de Tocqueville () who m ost influenced Mill on this issue. In his m ajor study, Democracy in America, de Tocqueville had argued th at th e progressive enfranchisem ent of the adult population, and the extension o f dem ocracy in general, created a levelling process in the broad social conditions of all individuals. On behalf of th e demos, governm ent was inevitably being turned against the privileges of the old ranks and orders; in fact, against all traditional form s of statu s an d hierarchy. T hese developm ents, in de Tocqueville’s view, fundam entally threatened the possibility of political liberty and personal independence. Among the m any p h enom ena on which h e dwelt was th e ever-growing presence of governm ent in daily life as an intrusive regulatory agency. In the m idst of ‘the dem ocratic revolution’, the state had becom e the centre of all conflict; the place w here policy, on nearly all aspects of life, was fought over. On the assum ption th at it was an essentially ‘benign’ apparatus, th e state h ad com e to be regarded as th e guarantor of public welfare an d progressive change. D e Tocqueville thought th at this assum ption was gravely m istaken and, if n o t countered in theory an d practice, w ould becom e a recipe for capitulation to ‘the dictate’ of the public adm inistrator This latter concern was am ong several issues taken up by Mill. His views can be set out in sum m ary form as follows; 1 The m o d e rn a p p a ra tu s of governm ent, w ith each ad dition of function (transportation, education, banking, econom ic m anagem ent), expands. 2 As g overnm ent expands, m ore an d m ore ‘active a n d am bitious’ people ten d to becom e attach ed to a n d /o r d ep en d en t o n governm ent (or on a party seeking to win control of th e governm ental apparatus). 3 The g reater th e n u m b e r of people (in absolute a n d relative terms) w ho are a p p o in te d a n d p aid b y governm ent, a n d th e m ore central control of functions a n d p ersonnel th e re is, th e greater th e th re a t to freedom ; for if these trends are u n ch eck ed ‘n o t all th e freedom of th e press a n d popular constitution of the legislature w ould m ake this o r any o th er country free otherw ise th a n in n am e’ (On Liberty, p. ). 4 M oreover, th e m o re efficient an d scientific th e adm inistrative m achinery becom es, th e m o re freedom is threaten ed . Mill sum m arizes th e essen ce o f th ese po in ts eloquently; If every part of the business of society which required organized concert, or large and comprehensive views, were in the hands of the government and if government offices were universally filled by the ablest men, all the enlarged culture and practised intelligence in the country, except the purely speculative, would be concentrated in a numerous bureaucracy, to whom 10 De Tocqueville recommended a series of countervailing forces, including the decentralization of aspects of government, strong independent associations and organizations in political, social and economic life to stand between the individual and the state, and the nurturing of a culture which respected the spirit of liberty, to help form barriers to the exercise of excessive centralized power (see Krouse, ; Dahl, , ch. 1). De TocquevUle’s broad ‘pluralistic vision of society’ was largely shared by Mill, despite his criticism of several aspects of de Tocqueville’s position (see J. S. Mill, ‘M. de Tocqueville on democracy in America’).

alone the rest of the com m unity would look for all things - the m ultitude for direction and dictation in all they h ad to do; th e able and aspiring for personal advancem ent. To be adm itted into the ranks of this bureaucracy and when adm itted, to rise therein, would be the sole objects of am bition. (On Liberty, pp. )