T wentieth-century political democracy was supposed to last forever. Though there were many variations of the British and the American models, the common thread that bound different democracies across the world was that governments were elected through the exercise of universal franchise. Almost all these democracies had economies driven by private capital and free markets. The threat to democracy was from the outside — the biggest one being socialism of some sort. This threat was considered more dangerous than dictators who assumed power after a military coup. This was because these dictators kept the economic structures intact and often allowed greater free play of international capital. A prime example of this was Chile in the 1970s. The socialist president, Salvador Allende, was overthrown and an authoritarian military dictator was installed with support from the Establishment in the United States of America. The economy did well in terms of corporate profits and national income while many people critical of the government were sent to jail, or went missing, never to be seen again.
In the twenty-first century, however, democracy has emerged as its own enemy. Governments elected through open elections have morphed into regimes that are described as illiberal democracies. The erosion comes from within the system. Institutions and processes that were the key players in a democracy began to get compromised and open to manipulations and ideological distortions by elected governments. There are many examples: the US, Turkey, Hungary, India, Brazil to name a few. These trends have triggered a variety of responses: is this the end of democracy? Is it a new system of government emerging? Is it just a temporary aberration?
To understand why democratic institutions and values have become vulnerable to attack from elected governments, it is important to know what makes democracies work in the first place. Democracy requires the voice of the people to be heard. Not just some particular voices but the voices of all citizens. Economic and social benefits are created and distributed amongst the population on the basis of the responses of the government to these voices. These benefits have to be perceived to be fairly distributed. Good governance has to be based on reason and responsibility.
This conception of good governance requires, in turn, a set of institutions that are nurtured and allowed to flourish — an efficient and responsive bureaucracy, an independent judiciary, a free media, and an open and critical academe. Without these, a good set of legislators may fail to govern, and an unresponsive set of legislators cannot be held accountable. This, in short, was the basic theory of democracy. The model of representative parliamentary democracy became popular and more commonly observed in the twentieth century.
The economic and social benefits that a good democratic government is supposed to deliver imply that over time citizens experience economic development and enjoy higher levels of material consumption as well as greater political freedoms and civil liberties. However, there is one serious difficulty here, germane to democracy. The essence of political freedoms and civil liberties rests on treating all citizens as equals; there is no difference between a rich business tycoon and an unemployed worker living on the streets. The difference between the business tycoon and the unemployed worker is fundamentally economic. On the economic front, outcomes are necessarily unequal. The system of private enterprise and markets makes someone rich and someone poor: luck and ability combine in determining fortunes.
As economic development and growth took place in the twentieth century, there appeared a tension between the inclusive responsiveness of the government to the needs and the demands of citizens and the demands of big business to grow unencumbered by government regulations. The result of this tension was a foregone conclusion: the political players who formed the government needed big business to bankroll their election campaigns. Government interventions in markets and in the process of economic development became unfashionable. This was the crux of neoliberalism where open markets and free international trade were deemed essential to keep the world economy afloat.
As a result of this, during the last three decades, the ability of governments to remain responsive to people’s demands and requirements became limited. Democracy’s proverbial ‘man on the street’ changed too. The leaps made by technology made populations impatient and more self-centred. The smartphone generation cares little for others; it has a strong belief in technology when it comes to solving all problems; being technologically savvy gives its members a great deal of confidence to control their own destinies. Hence, their articulated need for government is much less than what was thirty years ago.
The explosion of material goods that has become part of everyday life brought about new problems. Academics have been warning us about irreparable environmental damage that would restrict the way we live and work and also jeopardise life on the planet. This set of problems requires new interventions and cooperation between governments and corporations never known before.
From the typical government’s point of view, governing has become more and more complicated. New environmental challenges and acute problems associated with growing income and wealth inequalities require policies and interventions that would hurt some and benefit others. Profit-making would have to be redefined if the economy is to become sustainable. Complex technological connectivity has made the world more dangerous, with cyber crimes, pandemics, and terrorism adding to the problems of governance.
Twentieth-century democracy has made governability more difficult, bringing political openness and economic freedom under heavy stress. With an increasing number of people growing relatively poor, and another large segment of the population refusing to take its eyes off their cell phones, the easier option for governments was to keep political freedoms under check. This was one way of ensuring that governments had big business on their side while, politically, they could soften, stifle and silence voices of dissent.
To be able to do this effectively and systematically, governments have been changing the political narrative as much as possible. A sharp change in the narrative often serves to distract citizens from their immediate concerns. New narratives usually concentrate on the past, since the future is uncertain and complex. The past is glorified as an ideal society, and the historical evidence to that effect is concocted, or simply created through a set of lies. Another part of the changed narrative focuses on a common and easily identifiable enemy — usually a religious or racial minority or a migrant community — that is part of that society. These groups are supposed to represent a clear and immediate threat to the majority. This threat is used as a weapon to control the independence of judges, bureaucrats, journalists and academicians.
Openness itself becomes a threat to the political order. One does not have to be a revolutionary or a power-hungry military leader, anyone criticising the government is suspect and dealt with in a proper manner. The new narrative becomes the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Twenty-first-century democracy is not awaiting the revolutionary socialist bang on its door; rather, it is succumbing to a whimper of impotence from within.
Anup Sinha is former Professor of Economics, IIM Calcutta
