Abstract
This book is primarly about absolute rule and hence I have given very little attention so far to democratic governments. In my other books on democratic governments I have normally paid no attention at all to despotic governments. Nevertheless, there are situations which are sort of between democracy and dictatorship and there are other analyzable situations in which a democracy is changing into a dictatorship or a monarchy into a democracy. This chapter will discuss these situations.
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Notes
Israelis an exception to this rule since it is normally counted as a democracy in spite of the fact that west bank arabs are not permitted to vote for the Israeli government. Sometimes they are permitted to choose their own officials for local government organizations. See Dunnigan and Bay (19), on the limited political rights allowed West-Bank Arabs by the Israeli’s; see also `West Bank Arabs Have Rarely Felt so Cornered,’ The New York Times, August 11, 1985, p. E5.
As Poowra (1957) points out: `By the end of the eight century hereditary kings had almost ceased to count in Greece¡and [were] replaced by written constitutions, which gave power to¡oligarchies and democracies¡the first of which¡meant the rule of nobles¡. A democracy, on the other hand, claimed that its government was in the hands of the whole free male adult population. This was a later growth than oligarchy and was always less common.’ (p. 82). See also Forrest (1966), pp. 65–66.
A relatively small electoral class was also the case in Sparta’s `Democracy’: `In speaking of “Democractic” elements in the Spartan constitution, one must of course remember that the citizens as a whole were a ruling class fiercely tyranizing over the helots [Greek populations conquered by Sparta]. and allowing no power to the Perioeci’, free inhabitants of Laconia, (Sparta’s capital) who had no political power. (Russell, 1945, p. 97.)
See for example, Kronenberger (1942), pp. 200–211; Spearman (1957), pp. 1–7, 52–59. Of course, as Muir (1924, p. 16) points out, `All the Government proposals were carried by overwhelming majorities. And this was due not merely to the fact that corruption was employed on a wholesale scale - on a scale far more lavish than Walpole even dreamed of - but still more to the fact that most of the country gentlement in the House of Commons were quite content that the King should control the Government, and had no quarrel with his policy¡ And there is no reason to suppose that in thus accepting the new regime the two Houses of Parliment ran counter to public feeling in the country at large. The King himself and the policy he pursued were by no means unpopular¡If an election on quite democratic lines could have taken place at any time between 1770 and 1777, it is probable that the party which supported the King’s policy would have obtained a majority quite as large as that which it enjoyed under the anomalies of the old representative system.’
Women could not vote. It wasn’t until 1920 when the 19th Amendment was passed that they could, and of course in Great Britain universal suffrage began in 1918 when women over 30 were enfranchised. This was lowered to 21, a decade later. (See e.g. Grun, 1979, pp. 471ff.)
See for example, Fitzpatrick (1982), pp. 27,29. Of course, as Johnson (1983) points out (p. 64), `Lenin astutely made the greatest possible use of the spurious legitimacy conferred upon his regime by the Soviets¡ [H]e carefully operated at two levels¡on the surface was the level of constitutional arrangements and formal legality. That was for show,..the deep structures of a real power: Police, army, communications, arms.. [On 12 November 1917] the elections proceeded with the Bolsheviks merely one of the participating groups. It was the first and last truly parlimentary election ever held in Russia.’ Lenin formally dissolved the parliment on January 6, 1918. (See Johnson, 1983, pp. 71–72 for example.) Today of course, `from the initial decision to hold elections on a particular day through the selection, nomination and registration of candidates, right through the count and post-election scrutiny of the ballots, the [communist] party is involved,¡making “authoritative suggestions”¡, and leading the propaganda campaign, designed to get the voters to the polls and to refrain from voting against the one approved candidate in each constituency by crossing out the name¡.Nothing is left to chance or spontaneity¡’ (Hill and Frank 1983, pp. 110–111.) See also Hill (1973,1976); Scott (1969), esp. p. 97; Clarke (1967); Jacobs (1970, 1972); Gilison (1968), esp. p. 820; Friedgut (1979).
Harasymiur (1984) gives a discussion of Personnel and Recruitment policies with respect to membership in the Nomenklatura and Communist Party. See also, Armstrong (1961); Miller (1982); Hough (1980); Voslensky (1984); d’Encausse (1980), pp. 16ff, 70ff, 139–149, 320–322.
The expanding size of the communist party membership has been noted by many Sovietologists. Miller (1982) for example, suggest (p. 4) that this `surprisingly large party presence in society’, reaching more than 16 million in the early 1980s. Neuman (1956) in Blondel (1969); and Friedrich and brzezinski (1966), p. 49, for example, feel that the CPSU isn’t `really’ a political party. Others (Merkl, 1970, pp. 271–272; Ball, 1977, p. 75; Blondel, 1973 pp. 82–83) believe it should be classified as a political party and analyzed as such. (The Soviets of course tend to side with the views of the latter.) Schapiro (1970, pp. 621, 625) and others look at the communist party simply as a `monopoly’ party; while others have concentrated on what they see as `pluralistic tendencies’ in Soviet politics, in recent years (see e.g. Miller, 1981, p. 604; Brown, 1983). C.F. d’Encausse (1980), pp. 207–209, on coalition stability in the CPSU; and Ibid, pp. 71–83, on the composition and growth of the Central Committee.
On Hitler’s use of the Nazi party, see Bullock (1964), passim; See also Jarman (1961), pp. 79–94, 133–168. The Fascist party established on March 23, 1919 by Mussolini, as a means for gaining political control of Italy, is discussed in Johnson (1983), pp. 95–96, 97–103. Indeed, as Johnson notes (p. 100), in his use of the fascist party, Mussolini `did not make any of Lenin’s obvious mistakes. He did not create a secret police, or abolish parliment. The press remained free, opposition leaders at liberty. There were some murders, but fewer than before the coup. The Fascist Grand Council was made an organ of state and the Blackshirts were legalized, giving an air of menace to the April 1924 elections, which returned a large fascist majority. But Mussolini saw himself as a national rather than a party leader. He said he ruled by consent as well as force.’
The suggestions seem correct that to Franco, `The army was the only truly national institution, ancient, classless, non-regional, apolitical, incorrupt, disinterested. If it was oppressed, it mutinied¡; otherwise it served.’ Franco `Hated politics in any shape’ and `exploited the two insurrectionary movements, the Phalanage and the Carlists, amalgamating them under his leadership, but their role was subservient, indeed servile.’ (Johnson 1983, p. 331. See also Ben-Ami, 1983, p. 396; and Wheatcroft, 1983, pp. 114–117 on Franco’s Military Take-over.)
When it didn’t sell all the citizens into slavery.
See Forrest (1966). He notes (p. 39) that the Athenian Empire `is often described as a savage and selfish tyranny¡But although Athenian enthusiasm may have led her occassionaly to impose or at least encourage democracy when it was not wholly necessary¡to a considerable extent in fact,the ally remained autonomous¡If Athenian rule was¡harsh and unpopular¡, it is curious how few of Athens’ subjects’ were anxious to exchange it for Spartan freedom; most of the allied contingents in Sicily preferred to face almost certain death beside the Athenians than to accept an offer of safety from the Syracusans; curious that when revolts occurred they were nearly always the work of dissident oligarchs while the people were often prepared actively to support the return of the Athenians; even more curious how many former members of the Empire were ready to join a new Athenian confederacy in the fourth century after less than thirty years’ experience of Spartan freedom.’ See also Eisenstadt (1963), p. 106.
On the Theban period in Greece (371–355 B.C.), see also Dupuy and Dupuy (1977) p. 43; Lander (1972), p. 77; Oman and Adam (1928), pp. 426–451ff.
And indeed also the Macedonians. See for example, Sinnigen and Boar (1977), pp. 59ff, 62ff, 97ff; Mommsen (1928), pp. 62–73. On the Macedonians, see Langer (1972), pp. 91–92.
Sinnigen and Boar (1977), pp. 133ff.
To a certain extent. though ruled by `merchant Princes,’ the Carthaginian state was nonetheless controlled in part by popular assemblies which were at liberty to `freely discuss and oppose matters brought before th;em.’ However, the assemblies’ `agenda’ was determined by a council of elders who decided just what these `matters’ might be. Muller (1961), p. 104.
Sinnigen and Boar (1977), Chapter 8, `Congeust of the Mediteranean, First Phase: 264–201 B.C.’, pp. 96–116; and Chapter 9, `Conquest of the Mediterranean, Second Phase: 200–167B.C.,’ p. 117–127. See also Mommsen (1928), Part II, `Conquest of the Mediterranean States, 264–133 B.C.,’ pp. 89–168.
Gibbon (1914), Vol. I, pp. vff; Sinningen and Boar (1977), Chapter 23, `The Public Administration Under the Autocracy,’ pp. 431–450.
As Gershoy (1957, p. 93), for example, summarizes the process, `In that part of Europe which lay closest to France, the guiding impulse [of the first republic (1792–1804)] had been in 1792–1793 to liberate the enslaved peoples¡ [C]ivilians and generals alike were imbued with the consciousness of their country as La Grande Nation, superior as well as victorious and entitled by the laws of nature to the natural frontiers that her armies had gained..people of the annexed and incorporated territory continued as before to pay for benefits received. The privileged aristocracy, both law and secular, had been dispossessed by 1799; the feudal and mandrinal regimes, totally uprootted. The sale of nationalized property was proceeding briskly. Careers were open, within the salutary limitations imposed by the occupying liberators, to the talents of the home population. To be sure, old grievances still rankled: omnipresent French civil and military officials, periodic requisitions of food and material, military service obligations, and sporadic religious persecution. But the people were free, practicing more or less popular sovereignty. Time, the great healer, was working, aided by his assistant, the pocketbook, to reconcile the old with the new.’ See also Ibid., pp. 57–58, 70–101; C.F. Blum, Cameron and Barnes (1970), pp. 480–491, 515, 604.
Of course, the industrial revolution these countries were experiencing at the time produced technological advances which contributed to the development of weapons, and as a result enhanced their military capacities. See McNeill (1982), Chapter 6, `The Military Impact of the French Political and the British Industrial Revolutions, 1789–1850,’ pp. 185–222; and Chapter 7, `The Initial Industrialization of War, 1840–84,’ pp. 223–261. See also Fieldhouse (1982), Part two, `The Colonial Empires After 1815,’ pp. 177–371.
These campaigns ae descirbed in Dupuy and Dupuy (1977), pp. 683–688.
In 1945. (See Langer, 1972, pp. 1344–1345.)
See for example, Johnson (1983), pp. 179–190f¨ª; 719ff; Langer (1972), pp. 1344–1345 describes various constitutional changes in modern Japan’s government.
See for example, Fieldhouse (1982) Chapter 2, `The Spanish and Portuguese Empires in America,’ pp. 11–33; Chapter 5, `Myths and Realities of the American Empires,’ pp. 84–99.
Bowra (1957), p. 77; see also Forrest (1966), p. 42.
Muller (1961), pp. 221–222; Langer (1972), p. 78; Oman and Adam (1928), pp. 471–520.
Langer (1972), Part III, SectionC, `The Later Middle Ages,’ pp. 287–391; Blum, Cameron, and Barnes (19), pp. 27, 31ff; Mango (1980), 46–59, 60, 220.
Until we decipher Indian script, we cannot be sure whether this was true there also.
See e.g., Silverberg (1963), passim; Langer (1972), pp. 27–34ff; Sayce (1928). The Sumerian government did have some aspects which can be interpreteted as electoral.
The short-term duration probelm of `ready-made and superimposed’ western electoral regimes in this area of the world has been noted and examined in Lewis (1966), Chapter X, `The Impact of West,’ pp. 164–178.
As Johnson (1983), p. 703) observes, the chances for long-run political stabilityin Lebanon were of course quite poor from the beginning.
Sayce (1928), p. 125. Silberberg (1963) suggests (p. 127) that it is in fact `wrong to refer to this land of the Phonecians as a “nation”. Even using the name “Phonecia” to describe the area is somewhat inexact. There never was a Phonecian nation under one government. What existed was a group of independent cities, bound loosely together by ties of commerce and language and kinship.’ See also Ibid,pp. 146–147. Sayce (1928), p. 124: `The government of the several states was a monarchy tempered by an oligarchy of wealth. The king seems to have been but the first among a body of ruling merchants princes and powerful and wealthy chiefs. In time the monarchy disappeared altogether, its place being supplied by suffetes or “judges”, whose term of office lasted sometimes for a year, sometimes for more, sometimes even for life.’ He states (p,. 125) that though `successor royalty was abolished for a time, and the Tyrians elected suffetes or judges..On Hiram of Tyre (969–936 B.C.), see also e.g. Langer (1972), pp. 47–48. In Carthage, `There were also kings at first. But by 400 B.C. the hereditary monarchy had given way to a system involving two annually elected magistrates, a senate of 300 members appointed for life, and another assembly of 104 members whose role is unclear.’ (Silverberg, 1963, p. 147) In fact, `Carthage never founded a real empire. In Spain and Africa, the Carthaginian colonies seem to have been under direct political control ofthe mother city, but the other western Phonecian cities in the Mediterranean were only slightly affiliated with Carthage.’
As Blum, Cameron, and Barnes (1970) state (p. 9), `Moloch demanded the best and dearest that the worshipper could grant him, and the parent was required to offer his eldest or only son as sacrifice, while the victim’s cries were drowned by the noise of drums and flutes. When Agathokles defeated the Carthaginians, the noblest of the citizens offered in expiation three hundred of their children to Baal-Moloch¡ The priests scourged themselves or gashed their arms and breasts to win the favor of the god, and similar horrors wer perpetrated in the name of [the goddess] Ashtoreth. To here, too, boys and maidens were burned, and young men made themselves eunuchs in her honor.’ (Sayce, 1928, pp. 127–128.)
See e.g. sayce (1928), pp. 117–136; Oman and Adam (1928), pp. 27ff, 18ff; See also Silverberg (1963), pp. 130ff.
I offer my opinion here with little false modesty because no one else knows much about the matter either. For an easily readable but nevertheless authoritative account of what little is known, see Sandars.
See for example, Forrest (1966), p. 45; Silverberg (1963), pp. 131,135–144–155.
The Greek Dark Age (1200 B.C., to approximately 800 B.C.) followed the `First massive greek colonial movement’ by the Dorians coming down from Asia Minor.’ Cities were destroyed and trade was cut off. `The Greeks became illiterate and were reduced to small local communities.’ (Langer, 1972, pp. 60–61). See also Oman and Adam (1928), pp. 51ff.
In fact, it was Greeks setting up city states who first began noticing the place. See Bowra (1957), p. 20.
As Russell (1945) describes it(pp. 96–97), `The constitution of Sparta was complicated. There were two kings, belonging to different families, and succeeding by heredity. One or other of the kings, commanded the army in time of war, but in time of peace their powers were limited. At communal feasts they got twice as much to eat as anyone else, and there was general mourning when one of them died.’ Forrest (1966, p. 128) summarizes the double monarchy as `a strange institution which the Spartains traced back to the twin sons of an early leader but is more probably tobe explained by some earlier compromise and coalition of rival Dorian groups.’
Langer (1972), pp. 185, 258–259, 331–333, 341–342, describes the early political history of Novogorod, a city in Russia originally established by the Swedes (862 A.D.), later dominated by German traders as a commercial center (1150–1250 A.D.), and eventually conquered and made a territory of Russia by Ivan III (The Great) (1478 A.D.). In the 11th century, `The assembly of freemen (Vieche) reached its fullest development’ as a political system in Novogorod. (p. 259)
On Alexander Nevski (1236–1263 A.D.), Russian military leader, and `Prince’ (of Novogorod, and, of Vladimir after 1252), see for example Dupuy and Dupuy (1970), p. 378; Langer (1972), pp. 258–261, 340. See also Blum, Cameron, and Barnes, pp. 47–48. Nevski became, in effect, a `vassal of the mongols’ from 1240–1263, following their successful conquest in Russia.
I follow mainly Bury (1967) here.
More precisely, there were two distinct types of supreme rulers possible under the Germanic system, and tribes which had no monarch `had an officer who was called the graf. The graf had functions and duties corresponding to these of the king’, but with one noteworthy difference: `The graf was elected by the assembly, and the assembly might elect anyone they liked. The king was likewise elected¡, but in his case their choice was limited to a particular family, the royal family. In other words, the king was hereditary, and the grafship was not.’ (Ibid, p. 13).
Ibid., pp. 12, 13.
In fact, `The presence of absence of a king might almost be described as a matter of convenience; it had almost no decisive constitutional importance. In every German state, whether there was a king or not, the assembly of the freemen was sovran¡’ (Ibid., p. 12., See also pp. 14–15).
More commonly of course, it was subject to direct control from some superior. see e.g. Rank (1913), pp. 3ff, on the development of papal authority during this early period. On the movement toward centralization of the authority of the Roman church, see Sinnigen and Boar (1977), pp. 381, 480–485.
Sabine (1957, pp. 211–212) comments that `in constitution making the Papacy led the way by the establishment in the second half of the eleventh century of an orderly process of election by the clergy, to replace the older informal kind of election which often made a Papal election the plaything of the petty Roman nobility or of imperial politics.’
Haskins (1957, p. 28) notes taht `it was almost wholly as formulated in a few standard texts that the learning of the ancient world was transmitted to mediaeval times.’ See also, Ibid., pp. 66ff.
I believe that some of the Scandinavian countries, particularly Sweden, had a development rather similar to that of England, but I must admit I don’t know much about them.
Mackie (1957), pp. 562–567, describes relations between the monarchy and parliment during this time. In 1539, following the constitutional separation of Parlament into the two Houses, King Henry VIII nevertheless “packed” parliment judiciously before it met; he was ready with a programme, and he “managed” the debates¡It is, however, uncertain how far the process of “packing” went¡.Parlament was not a “lion under the throne” which roared when the king pressed the hidden spring. It was, however, susceptible to “management” and Henry understood “management” very well.’ (Ibid., p. 437) See also, Fisher (1906), pp. 434–435.
On economic and political developments in England after William III see for example Heyney (1918), Chapter XVII, `The Period of the Foundation of the British Empire, 1689–1763,’ pp. 516–575: see also Muir (1927), pp. 701–702,710ff.
As MacDonald (1928, p. 211) writes, `The acceptance of the constitution [of 1791] by the king [Louis XVI] was welcomed by contemporary France as the term of the revolution, rather than as an epoch in it¡All that the men of 1789 had fought for was won; the grievances of the Ancien Regime were removed, and the constitution secured to France a modified form of that monarchial government to which the majority were sincerely attached. Men were tired of both the drudgery and of the excitement of politics, and desired to return to their civil occupations. Nothing was further form the heart of France than the deposition of Louis or the declaration of a guerre a outrance against Europe.’ Of course, `in spite of the wishes of the majority, both these misfortunes occurred.’
As one British scholar writes, `The American war had profound results on the nascent democratic movement, because it roused strong opposition to the activities of George III and because so many people sympathized with the revolt of the colonies. “No taxation without representation” was certain of a cordial response on this side of the Atlantic. There was also a feeling that the defeat of the colonies would have encouraged the King in his suspected designs on the constitution¡Englishmen no longer congratulated themselves on the superiority of their insitutions to those of other countires. The French Revolution was so spectacular that the similarly disturbing example of the United States is now forgotten, but it was very important.’ particularly in its economic effects: `Every year that democratic government existed in the United States it became a more damaging contrast to the Government of England. Many manufactureres had business contracts with the United States, as for example Cobden and the Radical manufactureres of Leicester¡Everyone who was dissatisfied, the middle class, the working men, the dissenters, naturally asked why a system which worked in one country [The United States] would not work in another.’ (Spearman, 1957, pp. 48, 68.)
See Infra, references in a previous note in this chapter.
But C.F. comments in infra, previous note in this chapter.
See Temperley (1925), pp. 69–73ff; Rigg (1925), pp. 423ff; see also, on the derangement of king George III, Griffin (1925), pp. 473–474. An added problem for Parliment at the time of the King’s illness was that of discerning the political inclinations of the examining physicians. The doctors who were asked to report to the Commons on the King’s capacities tended `to differ politically as well as professionally, thus adding to the difficulties of the situation.’ (Ibid., p. 473).
Cheyney (1918, p. 548) notes that `this bad custom [of Parlimentary corruption] had been growing ever since the reign of Charles II, but it reached its height under Walpole. “All these men have their price,” he once said to a friend, pointing to a group of members of the House of Commons.’
See Blum, Cameron and Barnes (1970), pp. 567–572.
Langer (1972) pp. 980–1120, summarizes political structures worldwide at this time. On Ethiopia in particular, see ibid., pp. 872, 1078–1079; and see also Kapuscinski (1977), on the reign of Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie (1916–1974). It might be noted that Ethiopia in fact did not officially abolish slavery until 1924. Thailand’s (Siam) political system during this period is discussed in Langer (1972) p. 906, 1104–1105; see also The New York Times,September 15, 1985, p. 2E, where `Thailand’s 15 to 20 Coup Attempts over the Last Half Century’ are examined in light of current developments.
Dupuy and Dupuy (1977), 1048–1050; Langer (1972), pp. 1067–1069 (See also 1241–1245); see also `The General’s Still Run Latin “Democracies”,’ The Washington Post, Nov. 10, 1985, pp. D1,D4, on current developments.
Shortly after this time, of course, Argentina `fell victim to both the twin evils which poison Latin America: Militarism and Politics.’ As Johnson (1983, p. 616) continues, summarizing the problem in this region, `in the nineteenth century the military coup had become a standard means to change government. This disastrous practice continued after the arrival of universal suffrage. In the years 1920–66, for instance, there were eighty successful military coups in eighteen Latin-American countries, Ecuador and Bolivia leading with nine each, Paraguay and Argentina following the seven each.’
So, for example, Langer (1972), pp. 1057–1066, 1239–1245. Moore (1967) suggests in passing that `much of Latin America remains in the era of authoritarian semiparlimentary government.’ (p. 438).
At the time this book was written there were only six dictatorships in the whole of Latin America. This was possibly a record, but at the time of the final revision it had risen to seven. Both numbers are low and perhaps portend a change.
In fact, a citizen’s political eligibility for certain offices and function ws determined at least in part by the contribution he could make to the military needs of the state: `Since the days of Solon (594 B.C.) Athenians had been divided into four census classes, the Pentakosio medimnoi,men whose estates could produce 500 measures of grain or there equilivant per annum; the Hippeis or cavalrymen, those who could afford to keep a horse and equip themselves for cavalry service; the zeugitai or hoplites, those fitted to arm themselves as infantrymen; and the thetes, those who could not. At first,¡these classes had an important political significance in that membership carried with it qualification for certain offices of state. In the fifth century this was still officially the case, at least to the extent that thetes were barred by law from the highest purely civil office, the archonship and only pentakosiomedomnoi were trusted with the chief financial positions.’ (Forrest 1966, p. 22. See also Langer, 1972, p. 65).
Sinnigen and Boar, 1977, p. 262. See also Luttwak, 1976, pp. 40ff.)
Montross (1944), pp. 417–439; Dupuy and Dupuy (1977), pp. 708–717; Kreidberg and Henry (1955), pp. 1–22; Wheatcroft (1983), pp. 14–20.
Montross (1944), pp. 450–458; Dupuy and Dupuy (1977), pp. 678ff; McNeill (1982), pp. 137–8, 144–206; Wheatcroft (1983) pp. 21–29; Hart (1955), pp. 113ff; Dupuy (1980), pp. 154–158; Dunn-Pattison (1928), pp. 400–403.
`The first great victory of Heavy Cavalry over Roman infantry came in the battle of Adrianople (A D. 378). Emperor Valens of the East Roman Empire had assembled a large army for a showdown with the Ostrogoths and Visigoths¡The Roman losses were tremendous¡perhaps as many as forty thousand men were killed¡[T]he Roman cavalry¡did not participate in the battle, succeeded in breaking out and escaping death.’ (Dupuy, 1980, pp. 39–40. See also Montross, 1960, pp. 86–87, Dupuy and Dupuy, 1970, p. 157.)
See for example Eadie (1967); Sinnigen and Boar (1977), pp. 426ff; Dupuy (1980), pp. 36–41; Hart (1955), pp. 59–60.
Montross (1960), pp. 127–128 Discusses the replacement of cavalry with footsoldiers or `foot-archers’ in 10th century Byzantium.
See Montross (1960), pp. 168–172, for a discussion of the English Longbowmen, employed in England’s army from the 12th through the 15th centuries. On the Swiss `Halberdiers’ or spearman of the 14th century, see Ibid., pp. 172–175. Both types of men-at-arms, are also discussed in Dupuy (1980), pp. 81–89.
Dupuy and Dupuy (1977) pp. 43–44, gives a summary of Greece’s fall to Maledonia (355–356 B.C.). As a result of King Phillip’s reorganization of the Macedonian fighting force, `The backbone of the army was its infantry.’ (p. 44).
Dupuy and Dupuy (1977), p. 1341; Langer (1972), pp. 1251–1253; summarizes that 20th century history of these practices in Argentina. On similar events in Greece, see Macridis (1984); Dupuy and Dupuy (1970), pp. 1271–1272; The New York Times, November 21,1985, p. A7.
I am here using his definition of `democracy’ not mine. In his meaning of the word, the electorate was large, but not universal. Aristole’s Politics,Book IV, in particular, discusses this problem. But see Sabine (1956), pp. 88–122 for a review and discussion of Aristotle’s theory of tyranny and democracy; see also Jaszi and Lewis (1957), pp. 4–9 and passim.
See e.g. Sabine (1956), pp. 114–115.
Forrest (1966), pp. 82ff. Sinningen and Boar (1977, p. 76).
On Caesar’s rise to power, see Mommsen (1928), pp. 374–376. He asserts (pp. 375–376) that, when Caesar became Emperor, `no corps of guards - the true criterion of a military state - was even formed by him; even as general he dropped the bodyguard which had long been usual; and, though constantly beset by assassins in the capital, he contented himself with the usual escort of lictors.’ He admits, however, that `this noble ideal, of a kingship based only on the confidence of the people, could be but an illusion; amid the deep disorganization of the nation it was impossible for the eighth king of rome to reign merely by virture of law and justice. Just as little could the army which had placed him on the throne be really absorbed again into the state¡Thousands of swords still flew at Caesar’s signal from their scabbards, but they no longer returned to their scabbards at his signal. Caesar’s creation could not but be a military monarchy; he had overthrown the regime of the aristocrats and bankers only to put in its place a military regime.’ Of interest is Caesar’s introduction of the use of mercenaries in his cavalry, a policy innovation to which `He was driven by the untrustworthiness of the subject cavalry’ (Mommsen, 1928, p. 374).
On Lenin’s acquisition of control, see Wolf (1969), pp. 82–99; Treviranus (1944), pp. 75–140; Fitzpatrick (1982), passim; Johnson (1983), pp. 52ff, 66–86, 384; d’Encausse (1980), pp. 109–110. As Johnson (1983) points out, ‘In the initial stages of his takeover, Lenin depended entirely on the armed bands Trotsky had organized through the Petrograd Soviet. They were composed partly of politically motivated young thugs, the “men in black leather jerkins”, partly of deserters, often Cossacks’. (p. 65) Though on December 7, 1917, the military committee overseeing this political police force was disbanded, one section was retained, to become the `cheka’ (`All Russian Extraordinary Commission’) and was `charged with combating “counter-revolution and sabotage”. The decree which created the Cheka was not made public until more than ten years later (Pravda, 18 December 1927), so that Lenin’s security force was from the beginnin and remained for the rest of his life a secret police in the true sense, in that its very existence was not officially acknowledged.’ (pp. 67–68).
Stalin of course, also employed secret policy; with his political behavior becoming (from the average citizen’s viewpoint) `characterized by the total absence of rules¡ [and] for this reason unpredictable. One example provides evidence. In the late forties, when the future purge was in a preparation, the police, as a first step, carried out massive arrests on the periphery of the Soviet state, in the regions where prisoners who had completed their terms were confined. These former prisoners, trying to understand the logic governing their arrests, finally discovered that it was simply alphabetical; because of the first letter of his name, an individual might escape from the purge or experience [it] again’. (d’Encausse, 1980, pp. 41–42; see also Antonov-Ovseyenko, 1981, passim.)
There is of course the very old one under which demagogues who are for some obscure reason very powerful, succeed in overthrowing it. There is an equally ancient one under which people who are simply wicked (usually soldiers) overthrow it, but in neither case is there any explanation as to why they can do it.
Pirenne (1937), pp. 198–200; Vernon (1925), pp. 605–607; Langer (1972), 238–240, 322–323, 496–497, 634–635, 700; see also Braudel (1979), pp. 466–467, 489–490; Blum, Cameron and Barnes (1970), p. 102.
Langer (1972), pp. 715–742.
Such as changes in coalition formations, and in the organizational costs of forming such groups for political gain. see my article, `The Roots of Order’ (1981), where I discuss this and other factors affecting the structure and stability of governments.
On the origins and development of the post of Venetian Doge see for example, Langer (1972), pp. 238–240, 322–323.
The Council of Ten, invented in 1335 A.D., followed from a series of electoral institutions which began in 687 with the election of the first Venetian Doge. In 1032, a coalition of aristocrats attempted to establish a hereditary doge, but they were defeated, and a council and senate were created instead. later, the appointment of the doge became the council’s responsibility (1171). A popular uprising (1300) was the result of moves to restrict membership on the council `in favor of a narrow, hereditary, commercial oligarchy’ (Langer, 1972, p. 240). A more serious revolt, Tiepolo’s rebellion (1310) finally prompted the formation of an `emergency committee on public safety,’ the council of ten, in 1335. `The Venetian government thus consisted of: the great council (i.e., the patrician caste); the senate (a deliberative and legislative body dealing with foreign affairs, peace, war, finances, trade); the council of ten, (a secret, rapidly acting body concerned with morals, conspiracy, european affairs, finance [and] the war department, which could override the senate); the collegio or cabinet (the administrative branch); the doge and his council, which, sitting witht he ten, made the council of seventeen.’ (Ibid., p. 240; see also pp. 238–239).
The origins of Swiss political institutions are discussed in Oechsli (1928), passim; see also Langer (1972), pp. 714–715, 1192; Blum, Cameron, and Barnes (1970), pp. 738–740; Johnson (1983), pp. 605–607. Current structures no doubt evolved from the introduction of `concordant democracy’, under which all major political parties were given representation in the executive body (the Federal Council). The system was first established in the late 1800’s following a series of reforms requiring voter decision-making in direct elections to create new legislation.
Wheatcroft (1983), p. 159; see also Langer 91972), pp. 1258–1259.
General discussions of this problem are found in Revel (1984); Gasset (1957), Chapter 8, `Why the MAsses Intervene,’ pp. 68–77; Hayek (1979); Popper (1950), Chapter 23, `The Sociology of Knowledge,’ esp. pp. 402–403; d’Ecausse (1980), pp. 16–17; Mises (1963), Chapter IX, `The Role of Ideas,’ Esp. pp. 178ff; Weaver (1960), esp. pp. 90–98.
Mango (1980), pp. 46–59, 60, 220; Blum, cameron, and Barnes (1970), pp. 20–23; Langer (1972) pp. 155–286.
Pireene (1937), p. 204; Blum, Cameron, and Barnes (1970), p. 39; See also Braudel (1979), pp. 488–490.
See Bourgeois (1928a); Bourgeois (1928b); Bourgeois (1928c); see also Langer (1972), pp. 627–640, 679–683, 686–693, 1180–1181; Blum, Cameron, and Barnes (1970), pp. 480–485, 616–621, 722–279, 979–980, 1040–1042; Johnson (1983), pp. 587–598; Fieldhouse (1982), pp. 322–324.
Syracus instituted democratic reforms in 413–410 B.C., but these were quite short-lived; in 405, Dionysius I, after winning election as one of ten generals, appointed himself dictator. His son, Dionysius II, followed him and ruled tyrannically until 345, when the Syracusans requested the political services of two foreign rulers; Hicetas, tyrant of Leontini; and later Timoleon of Corinth. See for example, Oman and Adam (1928), Chapter XXXVII, `The Greeks of the West, 413–338 B.C.,’ pp. 407–418.
See Blum, Cameron, and Barnes (1970), pp. 930–934.
See for example Langer 91972), pp. 700–711, 998–1000, for a summary of the development of the electoral system of modern Italy.
Which in many cases may be more than one million years.
The similar analogy, (and a figure similar in nature to my figure 1) has been suggested by Carneiro (1982, p. 111–112); `Elasticity in the Capacity of a body to undergo deformation and, when the deforming forces are withdrawn, to regain its original shape¡a force of a certain magnitude is applied to the free end of a metal rod and then withdrawn, the rod will spring back into place. If the force is increased so that it pushes the rod beyond its elastic limits, the rod will take a permanent set. So it is with human societies. Every social system has a margin of elasticity. It can be subjected to certain forces - wars, floods, famines, riots, plagues, strikes, inflation, unemployment - and as long as the magnitude of these forces is not excessive, the system will essentially return to its original conditions once the impinging forces abate. If it is not pressed beyond this margin, the society will be able to reestablish its old equilibrium¡But if the society is subjected to forces that exceed this margin of elasticity, its existing institutions will not be able to cope with these forces. Under heavy stress, the society will be permanently deformed, that is, it will be forced to change its structure.’
E.g., Spearman (1957), pp. 1–7.
See Buer (1926); Cole and Deane (1965); George (1926); Ashton (1962); see also Mantoux (1962); Ashton (1963).
I myself, have argued that at least one aspect of this government was one of the major reasons for the development of modern economic systems. See, `Why Did the Industrial Revolution Occur in England?’, unpublished monograph. Public Choice Center, George Mason.
See Namier (1965).
See Brewer (1976).
Apparently he was under the impression that I didn’t know that South Korea was basically a dictatorship.
Relations between Mexico’s legislative Chambers of Senators and Deputies and its president are discussed in Hellman (1983), pp. 126–128ff; Johnson (1984), Chapter 5, `The Practice of Estoteric Democracy,’ pp. 116–159. See also Deland (1981), pp. 329–395, for example on conflicts between Brazil’s president and its congress.
Summaries of these countries’ current political institutions is given in Paxton (1985), pp. 395 (Taiwan), 766 (South Korea), 1055–1056, (Singapore), 1170–1171 (Thailand).
Mommsen (1928), pp. 29–55.
This was also true of the Spartan system. In addition to two kings, the government was controlled by `the Council of Elders, a body consisting of thirty men (including the kings)¡chosen for life by the whole body of citizens, but only from aristocratic families. The Council tried criminal cases, and prepared matters which were to come before the Assembly. This body (the Assembly) consisted of all the citizens; it could not initiate anyting, but could vote yes or no to any proposal brought before it¡branch of government, peculiar to Sparta. This was the five ephors. These were chosen out of the whole body of the citizens, by a method which Aristotle says was “too childish,” and which Bury says was virtually by lot. They were a “democratic” element in the constitution, apparently intended to balance the kings¡When either king went on a warlike expedition, two ephors accompanied him to watch over his behavior. The ephors were the supreme civil court, but over the kings they had criminal jurisdiction.’ (Russell, 1945, p. 97). The Spartan constitution was, according to myth, due to a god nameed Lycurgus, meaning `Wolf-Repeller.’ (Ibid., p. 97) The Spartan Assembly (or `Apella’) is discussed also in Oman and Adam (1928), p. 64.
Similar (but weaker) institutional constraints were also present in ancient Athens: `The political game was played in and around an aristocratic Council which, with the king, if one existed, was the sole organ of government. Mass assemblies might be held occasionally to show approval or disapproval of vital decisions which could lead to disaster without mass suppport (A declaration of war for example)¡’ Forrest (1966), pp. 54–55; see also Oman and Adam, (1928), pp. 62–63 f f.
On political events prior to the revolution in 1917, see for example Werstein (1967); Fitzpatrick (1984), pp. 26–33. See also Johnson (1983), p. 59; d’Encausse (1980), pp. 8–10; Wheatcroft (1983), pp. 78–95.
See `Thailand’s Military Suffers Some Self-Inflicted Wounds,’ The New York Times, September 15,1985,p. 2E.
Though Locke of course believed that certain `just’ and non-arbitrary procedural rules should be followed by any majority-rule government, he nonetheless felt that `the majority, having¡upon men’s first uniting into society, the whole power of the community naturally in them, may employ all that power in¡a perfect democracy; or else may put the power of making laws into the hands of a few select men,¡an oligarchy; or else into the hands of one man;¡a monarchy; or and if to him and his heirs; it is an hereditary monarchy; if to him only for life,¡an elective monarchy. And so accordingly of these the community may make compounded and mixed forms of government, as they think good.’ Locke goes on to stress that `by commonwealth, I must be understood all along to mean, not a democracy or any form of government, but any independent community¡’ Locke, (1947ed.) pp. 186–187, emphasis added. See also Sabine (1956), pp. 534ff.
Through of course the replacement of such a `balance’ of political institutions by a structure desired by a single faction is not necessarily preferable, especially if it is accomplished through revolution. I discuss this problem in The Social Dilemma (1974).
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Tullock, G. (1987). Democracy and despotism. In: Autocracy. Springer, Dordrecht. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-94-015-7741-0_9
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