Abstract

ExcerptNow a century old, Carl Schmitt’s The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy still provides useful training for historians in the necessary task of making distinctions between “liberalism” and “democracy,” two movements that arose with overlapping but distinct core principles in eighteenth-century Europe, often competed with each other, and sometimes came into bloody conflict. Schmitt makes one highly controversial assertion, however, near the beginning of this book. After agreeing with Alexis de Tocqueville that the spread of democracy was the most powerful political trend of the nineteenth century, a trend that became almost irresistible,1 Schmitt declares that there is a crucial flaw in the argument of Jean-Jacques Rousseau that exposes a major problem with democratic theory in general. Democracy has taken so many different forms, according to Schmitt, that it can only be defined according to the basic principle that political decisions are only binding for those who participated in making them. This belief presupposes “that the will of the outvoted minority is in truth identical with the will of the majority. Rousseau’s frequently cited arguments in the Contrat social are fundamental [emphasis added] for democratic thought and ultimately conform to an old tradition.”2 Schmitt refers here to Rousseau’s argument in On the Social Contract (book IV, ch. 2) that if the proposition you supported fails to gain a majority in a referendum, you should acknowledge that you had been mistaken when you voted, because the question posed to citizens was not exactly whether they personally approved of the proposition, but “whether or not it conforms to the general will that is theirs.”3 Schmitt observes caustically that “with this Jacobin logic one can, it is well known, justify the rule of a minority over the majority, even while appealing to democracy.” The first democratic movement of the modern era, the Levellers in the English Civil War, had already attempted this, Schmitt argues, when they proclaimed in 1649 that only the “well-affected” deserved the right to vote in parliamentary elections.4 Schmitt concludes that democracy is therefore highly vulnerable to the emergence of dictatorship, and that the Bolsheviks had just as strong an argument in 1923 that their brutal dominion by an “enlightened” minority was truly democratic as did the Jacobins of 1793. “Theoretically, and in critical times also practically, democracy is helpless [emphasis added] before the Jacobin argument, that is, when faced with the authoritative identification of a minority as the people.” The meaning here of “authoritative identification” (entscheidenden Identifikation) is unclear; Schmitt does not seek to explain why the majority in a democracy should ever accept a minority’s claim that it alone possesses civic virtue or wisdom.5 A very similar argument about Rousseau was made nevertheless by J. L. Talmon in The Origins of Totalitarian Democracy (published in 1952), which has in turn influenced some recent scholars who, like Talmon, do not acknowledge any intellectual debt to Schmitt.6.