[1916]
In our great modern States, where the scale of things is so large,
it does seem as if the remnant might be so increased as to become an
actual power, even though the majority be unsound.--MATTHEW ARNOLD,
_Numbers_.
I
WHO governs America?
The answer is obvious: we are a republic, a representative democracy
enjoying to the utmost government of, for, and by the people. America
is governed by persons we choose, presumably on our own initiative, to
serve us, to make, execute, and interpret laws for us. Addicted as we
are to the joy of phrases, we find in these _clichés_ unfailing delight.
Democracy, ideally considered, is an affair of the wisest and best.
As the privileges of the ballot are generously extended to all, the
whole people are invested with an initiative and an authority which
it is their duty to exercise. We assume that all are proud of their
inheritance of liberty, jealous of their power, and alert in performing
the duties of citizenship. That we are not highly successful in
realizing this ideal is a matter that is giving increasing concern to
thoughtful Americans.
As these words are read thousands of candidates are before the
electorate for consideration, and the patriotic citizen is presumably
possessing himself of all available information regarding them,
determined to vote only for the most desirable. The parties have done
their best, or worst, as we choose to view the matter, and it is “up
to the people” to accept or reject those who offer themselves for
place. The citizen is face to face with the problem, Shall he vote for
candidates he knows to be unfit, merely to preserve his regularity,
or shall he cast his ballot for the fittest men without respect to
the party emblems on his ballot? Opposed to the conscientious voter,
and capable of defeating his purpose, are agencies and influences
with which it is well-nigh impossible for him to cope. The higher his
intelligence and the nobler his aim, the less he is able to reckon
with forces which are stubbornly determined to nullify his vote.
The American voter is not normally independent; it is only when there
has been some marked affront to the party’s intelligence or moral sense
that we observe any display of independence. Independent movements are
always reassuring and encouraging. The revolt against Blaine in 1884,
the Gold-Democratic movement in 1896, were most significant; and I am
disposed to give a somewhat similar value to the Progressive movement
of 1912. But the average voter is a creature of prejudice, who boasts
jauntily that he never scratches his ticket. He follows his party with
dogged submission and is more or less honestly blind to its faults.
As my views on this subject are more usually voiced by independents
than by partisans, it may not be amiss to say that I am a party man,
a Democrat, sufficiently “regular” to vote with a good conscience
in primary elections. Living in a State where there is no point of
rest in politics, where one campaign dovetails into another, I have
for twenty-five years been an observer of political tendencies and
methods. I may say of the two great parties, as Ingersoll remarked
of the life beyond, “I have friends in both places.” One of my best
friends was a “boss” who served a term in prison for scratching a
tally-sheet. I am perfectly familiar with the theories upon which
bossism is justified, the more plausible being that only by maintaining
strong local organizations, that is to say, Machines, can a party so
intrench itself as to support effectively the policies and reforms dear
to the heart of the idealist. And bosses do, indeed, sometimes use
their power benevolently, though this happens usually where they see a
chance to win advantage or to allay popular clamor.
It is not of the pending campaign that I write, and any references
I make to it are only for the purpose of illustrating phases or
tendencies that seem worthy of consideration at a time when public
thought is concentrated upon politics. And to give definite aim to this
inquiry I shall state it in the harshest terms possible:
We, a self-governing people, permit our affairs to be administered,
very largely, by second-rate men.
Our hearts throb indignantly as we ponder this. The types have a queer
look. Such an accusation is an unpardonable sin against American
institutions--against an intelligent, high-minded citizenry. It can,
however, do no harm to view the matter from various angles to determine
whether anything really may be adduced in support of it.