Elections and the Crisis of Representative Democracy

The German election of March 5, 1933, stands as a profound emblem of the crisis that can besiege representative democracy. This election, which should have epitomized democratic ideals by granting the people the power to choose their leaders, instead marked the demise of the Weimar Republic and the rise of the Nazi regime-a regime that would irrevocably tarnish the 20th century with bloodshed. At that pivotal moment, the German populace, whether knowingly or not, cast their lot against democracy. History has repeatedly shown that when representatives, elected through democratic means, fail to truly represent the people, their power can warp the democratic will, devastating both the spirit and lives of the citizens.

To safeguard democracy, it is imperative to scrutinize the assumption that representative government is synonymous with democracy. We must also recognize that representative systems have the inherent potential to distort democratic principles. Even in nations where representative government prevails, we continue to witness the rise of leaders akin to Hitler. The entrenched elites, driven by a relentless will to power, can manipulate the electorate, securing their positions as representatives. Once ensconced in power, they often enact laws that serve the interests of the state apparatus rather than those of the majority-the very majority that constitutes society. These laws, passed under the guise of majority rule, frequently elude the understanding of the people, who remain unaware of how these regulations will shape their lives. In this way, representative government can morph into a form of class or legislative dictatorship.

John Stuart Mill, who regarded representative government as the ideal political form, was acutely aware of the dangers of class legislation. In his work “Considerations on Representative Government,” Mill observed, “In all forms of government, but especially in that of democracy, the greatest danger lies in the fact that those in power may be tempted to pursue their own selfish ends. Class legislation, where the government acts in the immediate interests of the ruling class at the expense of the general good, becomes the most serious danger. Therefore, when forming the best representative government, the first task is to efficiently control this evil.” As long as representatives wield concentrated power, whether they are elected or inherit their roles, the specter of class legislation that serves the ruling class remains inevitable.

If representative government is to be genuinely democratic, then the people must retain the perpetual right to recall their representatives. This notion presupposes that even during their term, the people have not surrendered their rights. This presents a paradox: the power to recall representatives implies that the electorate has not relinquished its rights at the moment of election. In such a scenario, the abuse of power by representatives would be inconceivable. At this juncture, not only would the theory of the social contract be called into question, but so too would the very legitimacy of representative government. Conversely, if one adheres to the principles of social contract theory and representative government, one must accept that the people’s rights are vested in their representatives, whose terms must be fully respected. Yet, in doing so, there would be no safeguard against class legislation, and democracy would risk becoming a mere rhetorical flourish. It may be time to reconsider the oft-repeated assertion that elections and voting are the “flowers of democracy.” Under this belief, as new elections approach, candidates are selected from those who align with the existing class, and citizens cast their votes as though they were truly participating in a democratic process.

Modern philosophers have grappled with how to realize “democracy” beyond simply sustaining “representative government.” Some argue that a society where people themselves can raise their voices, rather than merely choosing representatives, is essential to upholding democratic values. They contend that the ability to recall representatives and control their power is more crucial than the act of electing them. Jacques Ranciere is one such philosopher who has explored how to protect and actualize democratic values within a representative system that claims elections are the pinnacle of democracy. In 1996, at the Gramsci Institute in Bologna, he distilled his reflections on democratic politics into 11 theses, later condensed into 10 and published in 1997 in the philosophical journal “Filozofski Vestnik” under the title “10 Theses on Politics.” His seventh thesis asserts, “Politics (la politique) is certainly opposed to the police (la police).”

The democracy of ancient Athens flourished in the space known as the polis, from which we derive the terms “politique” (politics) and “police” (law enforcement or order). According to laws created by class legislation that curtail protests and gatherings, the administration, particularly the police, seeks to delay or disperse protests, thereby dissolving them. This is what Ranciere identifies as the “police.” The representative system maintains that preserving order is the sole realization of democracy, arguing that since representatives are elected by citizens and enact laws, these laws are essentially made by the citizens themselves. However, this logic, as Ranciere contends, leads to the erosion of democracy-of true politics. In the context of our current representative government, if such situations arise, how then can we realize democracy or politics?

Ranciere’s eighth thesis offers an intriguing perspective. He asserts, “The main function of politics is to create its own space. It reveals the world of the political subject and the world of political action. The essence of politics is to manifest dissensus by making these two worlds present in one world.” In other words, he suggests that we can achieve democratic politics when we transcend our roles as constituted subjects, shaped by class legislation, and become constituting subjects who fully embrace their freedom.

As the presidential election approaches, I find myself increasingly contemplative, observing the intricate dynamics that unfold within the framework of our electoral process. It’s striking how often I encounter individuals urging others to cast their votes with a near-religious zeal for one of the two deeply polarized parties. This fervor, coupled with the unsettling reality of Carl Schmitt’s friend-enemy distinction manifesting within a single nation, provokes a sense of unease. Yet, amidst all this, there seems to be a profound absence of serious discourse on the essence of representative democracy-on what it truly means to transfer our power through the act of voting, and on the transformation we undergo in doing so.