In January of 2005, less than two years after the second gulf war toppled Saddam Hussein, Iraq held a parliamentary election. Approximately 80% of eligible voters participated, putting in power the United Iraqi Alliance, a confederation of mainly Shia political parties. The internet was filled with pictures of proud Iraqis showing off their ink-stained fingers indicating that they had voted.
Shortly after this election, a friend of mine, with whom I had had a series of intense debates about the morality of the Iraqi war, approached me, and crowed “See, everyone wants democracy.” It was a popular argument at the time. Not long before, Francis Fukuyama had written “The End of History and the Last Man”, arguing that with the dissolution of the Soviet Union we had reached, the “end-point of mankind’s ideological evolution and the universalization of Western liberal democracy as the final form of human government”.
Eighteen years after the 2005 Iraqi election, and the predictions of democracy’s ascendancy, we can only look back on that misplaced optimism and shake our heads. It now seems that democracy is under attack almost everywhere, including the supposedly democratic (small “d”) bastion of the United States. We have to confront again the question of whether democracy is the best governmental system, and if it is, what that means.
Most of the concerns about democracy in the United States surround a second Trump presidency. Many are worried, and probably rightly so, that if “The Donald” gets the reins of government again, he will do what he can to assure that he is not ousted as he was in 2020. The sense is that most of his followers will gleefully follow wherever he leads, and that the Republican establishment will be drug along behind, whether it likes it or not.
While Trump is definitely the largest existential threat to U.S. democracy, the debate about stopping him leads me to wonder how committed the rest of us are to the democratic principals we seek to uphold. All to often, I hear the equivalent of “Why doesn’t Biden do something?” on a myriad of issues as if we want him to waive a magic wand and impose our favorite policy positions. Or, worse, simply dictate those positions into existence.
Our tendency to want to sidestep democratic principles is understandable, especially when faced with inane hijinks like the near governmental shutdown. Congress seems unable to handle the most basic tasks, putting in jeopardy the well-being of millions. It is so tempting to want someone to take the bull by the horns and stop the insanity.
The idea of the imperial presidency has been around for many years. Sometimes it has been used as a warning against presidential overreach, and sometimes it has been used as an aspiration. The truth of the matter is that the concept has great appeal. We all want to see the person we elect act decisively to implement the policies that we support.
It is natural to look at the President as the sole purveyor of policy, but to blame, or praise, him (or, hopefully, someday soon, her) for all that happens is both naïve and dangerous. We all saw Schoolhouse Rock growing up, and many of us can still sing “I’m Just a Bill”, but in times of frustration we tend to forget its message. The President cannot enact laws, that is the business of Congress.
There is, however, the Executive Order. In the early days of our nation, these were used sparingly. The first President to buck that trend was Theodore Roosevelt, who more than quadrupled the Executive Orders issued by any of his predecessors. The President who made the most use of those orders was another Roosevelt, Franklin.
Many of us were heartened when Biden issued an executive order protecting the right to reproductive health services in response to the Supreme Court’s reversal of Roe v Wade. On the other hand, we were less than thrilled when Donald Trump issued an Executive Order authorizing the building of a wall on the Mexican border when congress refused his request for such funding. *
Good or bad, an Executive Order only enhances the imperial presidency. They may have a role to play at times of stalemate, but calling for their frequent usage risks a further undermining of democracy. When the President is ours, it seems like the way forward. But I am reminded of those who urged Democrats to abolish the filibuster in 2020 so that they could force through certain legislation, wondering how they could forget that only the year before Republicans were in control.
Near the end of the Roman Republic** Cicero, the leading voice of republican principals, led the Roman Senate to execute, without trial, the leaders of a conspiracy to overthrow the Republic. While that stance was popular at the time, it came back to haunt Cicero as he opposed later efforts to install a more authoritarian regime. After all, if even he was willing to abjure democratic precepts in times of crises (and isn’t it always a time of crises) how could he stand in the way of those wanting to save the Roman nation.
I have no easy answers. I just know that democracy is the best hope we have of making this the country we want it to be. All too often, we will be called on to bite our tongue, shake our heads and press forward as best we can against blind stupidity. There are no shortcuts. Or at least there are no shortcuts that don’t stand of very good chance of ultimately leading to outcomes we would not want to live with.
*Someday I will write a post on the meeting regarding wall funding between Donald Trump, Nancy Pelosi and Chuck Schumer, which sticks in my craw to this day. Pelosi and Schumer infuriatingly missed a golden opportunity to confront Trump with the “Art of the Deal”, instead opting for meaningless posturing (but didn’t she look good in those sunglasses).
**I know that it is a bad time to be citing this antidote. I am no doubt opening myself up to the charge of thinking constantly about the Roman Empire. Truth be told, I have recently been listening to a podcast discussing Roman literature and history. That doesn’t make me a bad person, does it?
Being in Greece as I tap this out, the birthplace of ‘demos’ and learning about the sad history that followed the gold age of Athens, it’s hard not to think of all of this as an endless cycle. It feels like when we are going through profound periods of cultural, technological and transformative change, we suffer backlash from those opposing change until we revolve into whatever that next era will look like so it’s understandable that there is some allure to a strong leader representing populist angst. It’s just unfortunate to have to live through it after an era of generally broad consensus around basic principals.
Jonathan. Totally agree. What is it about our psyche that refuses to learn? We know how we get played yet still lean into it. Like a fish to a lure (ha my spell check originally typed out ‘allure’.😂😂)