Those who accept the orthodox doctrine of democracy contend that, if ever the power of capital were removed, representative institutions would suffice to undo the evils threatened by bureaucracy.Against this view, Anarchists and Syndicalists have directed a merciless criticism.French Syndicalists especially, living, as they do, in a highly democratized country, have had bitter experience of the way in which the power of the State can be employed against a progressive minority.This experience has led them to abandon altogether the belief in the divine right of majorities.The Constitution that they would desire would be one which allowed scope for vigorous minorities, conscious of their aims and prepared to work for them.It is undeniable that, to all who care for progress, actual experience of democratic representative Government is very disillusioning.Admitting-- as I think we must--that it is preferable to any PREVIOUS form of Government, we must yet acknowledge that much of the criticism directed against it by Anarchists and Syndicalists is thoroughly justified.
Such criticism would have had more influence if any clear idea of an alternative to parliamentary democracy had been generally apprehended.But it must be confessed that Syndicalists have not presented their case in a way which is likely to attract the average citizen.Much of what they say amounts to this: that a minority, consisting of skilled workers in vital industries, can, by a strike, make the economic life of the whole community impossible, and can in this way force their will upon the nation.The action aimed at is compared to the seizure of a power station, by which a whole vast system can be paralyzed.Such a doctrine is an appeal to force, and is naturally met by an appeal to force on the other side.
It is useless for the Syndicalists to protest that they only desire power in order to promote liberty: the world which they are seeking to establish does not, as yet, appeal to the effective will of the community, and cannot be stably inaugurated until it does do so.Persuasion is a slow process, and may sometimes be accelerated by violent methods; to this extent such methods may be justified.But the ultimate goal of any reformer who aims at liberty can only be reached through persuasion.The attempt to thrust liberty by force upon those who do not desire what we consider liberty must always prove a failure; and Syndicalists, like other reformers, must ultimately rely upon persuasion for success.
But it would be a mistake to confuse aims with methods: however little we may agree with the proposal to force the millennium on a reluctant community by starvation, we may yet agree that much of what the Syndicalists desire to achieve is desirable.
Let us dismiss from our minds such criticisms of parliamentary government as are bound up with the present system of private property, and consider only those which would remain true in a collectivist community.Certain defects seem inherent in the very nature of representative institutions.There is a sense of self-importance, inseparable from success in a contest for popular favor.There is an all-but unavoidable habit of hypocrisy, since experience shows that the democracy does not detect insincerity in an orator, and will, on the other hand, be shocked by things which even the most sincere men may think necessary.Hence arises a tone of cynicism among elected representatives, and a feeling that no man can retain his position in politics without deceit.This is as much the fault of the democracy as of the representatives, but it seems unavoidable so long as the main thing that all bodies of men demand of their champions is flattery.However the blame may be apportioned, the evil must be recognized as one which is bound to occur in the existing forms of democracy.Another evil, which is especially noticeable in large States, is the remoteness of the seat of government from many of the constituencies--a remoteness which is psychological even more than geographical.The legislators live in comfort, protected by thick walls and innumerable policemen from the voice of the mob; as time goes on they remember onlydimly the passions and promises of their electoral campaign; they come to feel it an essential part of statesmanship to consider what are called the interests of the community as a whole, rather than those of some discontented group; but the interests of the community as a whole are sufficiently vague to be easily seen to coincide with self-interest.All these causes lead Parliaments to betray the people, consciously or unconsciously; and it is no wonder if they have produced a certain aloofness from democratic theory in the more vigorous champions of labor.
