This evil is strengthened, as it perhaps originated, by the tacit

recognition of the principle that every legislator represents, first of

all, his local district. It is not expected of a senator that he shall

look at every question from the point of view of the general welfare,

but rather that he shall take first of all the point of view of his

state. It has indeed been urged that the senator is nothing but an

ambassador sent to represent his state before the federal government. If

this is so, it follows at once that no state delegate ought to have any

control over the interests of another state, and so the wishes of any

senator should be final in all matters pertaining to his own state. From

this it is only a small step to the existing order of things, in which

every senator is seconded on his own proposals by his colleagues, if he

will second them on theirs. In this way each delegate has the chance to

place the law-giving machinery at the service of those who will in any

way advance his political popularity among his constituents, and help

him during his next candidacy. And then, too, a good deal is done merely

for appearances; bills are entered, printed, and circulated in the local

papers to tickle the spirits of constituents, while the proposer himself

has not supposed for a moment that his proposition will pass the

committee. Things go in the state legislatures in quite the same way.

Each member is first of all the representative of his own district, and

he claims a certain right of not being interfered with in matters which

concern that district. In this way he is accorded great freedom to grant

all sorts of legislative favours which will bring him sufficient

returns, or to carry through legal intrigues to the injury of his

political opponents. And here in the state legislature, as in the city

council, where the same principles are in use, there is the best

possible chance of selling one’s friendly services at their market

value. If a railroad company sees a bill for public safety proposed

which is technically senseless and exaggerated, which will impede

traffic in the state, and involve ruinous expenditures, it will

naturally be tempted not to sit idle in the hope that a majority of the

committee will set the bill aside; for that course would be hazardous.

It may be that all sorts of prejudices will work together toward

reporting the bill favourably. If the company wants to be secure, it

will rather try such arguments as only capitalists have at their

command. And it has here two ways open: either to “convince” the

committee or else to make arrangements with the man who proposed the

bill, so that he shall recall it. If the possibility of such doings once

exists in politics, there is no means of preventing dishonourable

persons from making money in such ways; not only do they yield to

temptation after they have been elected, but also they seek their

elections solely in order to exploit just such opportunities.

Here we meet that factor which distinguishes the state legislature,

particularly of those states whose traditions are less firmly grounded,

and still more the city councils, so completely from the federal

chambers in Washington. The chance to misuse office is alike in all

three places, but men who have entered the political arena with

honourable motives very seldom yield to criminal temptation. The usual

abuses are committed almost wholly by men who have sought their

political office solely for the sake of criminal opportunities; and this

class of pseudo-politicians can bring itself into the city council very

easily, in the state legislature without much difficulty, but almost

never into Congress. If it were attractive or distinguished or

interesting to be in the state legislature, or on the board of aldermen,

there would be a plenty of worthy applicants for the position, and all

doubtful persons would find the door closed; but the actual case is

quite different.

To be a member of Congress, to sit in the House of Representatives or

perhaps in the Senate, is something which the very best men may well

desire. The position is conspicuous and picturesque, and against the

background of high political life the individual feels himself entrusted

with an important rôle. And although many may hesitate to transfer their

homes to the federal capital, nevertheless the country has never had

difficulty in finding sufficient Representatives who are imbued with the

spirit of the Constitution. On the other hand, to serve as popular

representative in the state legislature means for the better sort of

man, unless he is a professional politician, a considerable sacrifice.

The legislature generally meets in a remote part of the state, at every

session requires many months of busy work on some committee, and most of

this work is nothing but disputing and compromising over the thousand

petty bills, in which no really broad political considerations enter. It

is a dreary, dispiriting work, which can attract only three kinds of

men: firstly, those who are looking forward to a political career in the

service of the party machine and undergo a term in the state legislature

only as preparation for some more important office; secondly, those who

are glad of the small and meagre salary of a representative; and

finally, those whose modest ambition is satisfied if they are delegated

by their fellow-citizens in any sort of representative capacity.

Therefore the general level of personality in the state legislature is

low. Men who have important positions will seldom consent to go, and

when influential persons do enter state politics it is actually with a

certain spirit of renunciation, and not so much to take part in the

business of the legislature as to reform the legislature itself. Since

this is the case, it is not surprising that the most unwholesome

elements flock thither, extortioners and corrupt persons who count on

it, that in regard to dishonourable transactions, the other side will

have the same interest in preserving silence as themselves.

We must also not forget that the American principle of strictly local

representation works in another way to keep down the level of the

smaller legislative bodies. If the Representative of a certain locality

must have his residence there, the number of possible candidates is very

much restricted. This is even more true of the city government, where

the principle of local representation requires that every part of the

city, even the poorest and most squalid, shall elect none but men who

reside in it. To be sure, there is a good deal in this that is right;

but it necessarily brings a sort of people together in public committee

with whom it is not exactly a pleasure for most men to work. The

questions which have to be talked over here are still more trivial, and

more than that, the motives which attract corrupt persons are somewhat

more tangible here; since in the rapid growth of the great city the

awarding of monopolies and contracts creates a sort of spoilsman’s

paradise. As the better elements hold aloof from this city government,

by so much more do corrupt persons have freer play.

The relation of the city to both the state and Federation is even more

unfavourable when one comes to consider not the legislative, but the

executive, department. Whereas in Washington, for example, a single man

stands at the head of every department in the administration, and is

entirely responsible for the running of things, there has frequently

been in the city administrations, up to a short time ago, a committee

which is so responsible—this in agreement with the old American idea

that a majority can decide best. Where, however, a single man was

entrusted with administrative powers, he was selected generally by the

mayor and the city council together, and they seldom called a real

expert to such a position. In any case, since the administration depends

wholly on party politics, and the upper staff changes with each new

party victory, there is no such chance for a life career here as would

tempt competent men to offer their services.

In this part of the government, moreover, there is more danger from the

administration by committees than anywhere else. The responsibility of a

majority cannot be fixed anywhere; and where the mayor and aldermen work

together in the selection of officials, neither of the two parties is

quite responsible for the outcome—which is naturally not to be compared

with the closely guarded election of officials under German conditions.

For in Germany the selection of the head of a city department will lie

between a few similarly trained specialists, while the administration of

a New York or a Chicago department, as, say, that of the police or of

street-cleaning, is thought to presuppose no special preparation, and

therefore the number of possible candidates is unlimited. It is not

surprising that such irresponsible committees are not above corruption,

and that many a man who has received a well-paid administrative position

in return for his services to the party, proceeds to make his hay while

the sun shines. It is true that there are many departments where no such

temptation comes in question. It is, for example, universally believed

that the fire departments of all American cities are admirably managed.

The situation is most doubtful in the case of the police departments,

which, of course, are subject to the greatest temptations; and here,

too, there can be the worst abuses in some ways along with the highest

efficiency in others. The service for public protection in a large city

may be admirably organized and crime strenuously followed up, and

nevertheless the police force may be full of corruption. Thieves and

murderers are punctiliously suppressed, while at the same time the

police are extorting a handsome income from bar-rooms which evade the

Sunday laws, from public-houses which exist in violation of city

statutes, and from unlawful places of amusement.

To be sure, we must again and again emphasize two things. In the first

place, it is probable that nine-tenths of the charges are exaggerated

and slanderous. The punishments are so considerable, the means of

investigation so active, and the public watchfulness so keen, both on

account of the party hostility and by virtue of a sensational press,

that it would be hardly comprehensible psychologically, if political

crime in the lowest strata of city or state were to be really anything

but the exception. The many almost fanatically conducted investigations

produce from their mountains of transactions only the smallest mice, and

the state attorney is seldom able to make out a case of actual bribery.

In this matter the Anglo-Americans are pleased to point out that

wherever investigations have ended in making out a case which could

really be punished, the person has been generally an Irishman or some

other European immigrant. In any case, the collection of immigrants from

Europe in the large cities contributes importantly to the unhappy

condition of city politics.

In the second place, we must urge once more that the mere distribution

of well-paid municipal positions to party politicians is not necessarily

in itself an abuse. When, for instance, in a large city, a Republican is

succeeded by a Democratic mayor, he can generally bestow a dozen

well-paid and a hundred or two more modest commissions to men who have

helped in the party victory. But he will be careful not to pick out

those who are wholly unworthy, since that would not only compromise

himself, but would damage his party and prevent its being again

victorious. If he succeeds, on the other hand, in finding men who will

serve the city industriously, intelligently, and ably in proportion to

their pay, it is ridiculous to call the promise of such offices by way

of party reward in any sense a plundering of the city, or to make it

seem that the giving of positions to colleagues of one’s party is

another sort of corruption.

The evils of public life and the possibility of criminal practices are

not confined to legislative and executive bodies. The judiciary also has

its darker side. One must believe fanatically in the people in order not

to see what judicial monstrosities occasionally come out of the emphasis

which is given to the jury system. The law requires that the twelve men

chosen from the people to the jury must come to a unanimous decision;

they are shut in a room together and discuss and discuss until all

twelve finally decide for guilty or not guilty. If they are not

unanimous, no verdict is given, and the whole trial has to begin over

again. A single obstinate juryman, who clings to his particular ideas,

is able, therefore, to outweigh the decision of the other eleven. And it

is to be remembered that every criminal case is tried before a jury. The

case is still worse if all twelve agree, but agree only in their

prejudices. Especially in the South, but also in the West sometimes,

juries return decisions which simply insult the intelligence of the

country. It is true that the unfairness is generally in the direction of

declaring the defendant not guilty.

The law’s delay is also exceedingly regrettable, as well as the extreme

emphasis on technicalities, in consequence of which no one dares, even

in the interests of justice, to ignore the slightest inaccuracy of

form—a fact whose good side too, of course, no one should overlook. It

is most of all regrettable that the choice of judges depends to so large

an extent on politics, and that so many judicial appointments are made

by popular elections and for a limited term. The trouble here is not so

much that a faithful party member is often rewarded with a judicial

position, since for the matter of that there are equally good barristers

to be chosen from either party for vacant positions on the bench; the

real evil is that during his term of office the judge cannot help having

an eye to his reëlection or promotion to some higher position. This

brings politics into his labours truly, and it too often happens that a

ready compliance with party dictates springs up in the lower judicial

positions. Only the federal and the superior state courts are entirely

free from this.

In a similar way, politics sometimes play a part in the doings of the

state attorney. He is subordinate to the state or federal executive,

that is, to a party element which has contracted obligations of various

sorts, and it may so happen that the state attorney will avoid

interfering here and there in matters where a justice higher than party

demands interference. Especially in the quarrels between capital and

labour, one hears repeatedly that the state attorney is too lenient

toward large capitalists. Then there are other evils in judicial matters

arising from the unequal scientific preparation of jurists; the failing

here is in the judicial logic and pregnancy of the decision.

Finally, one source which is a veritable fountain of sin against the

commonwealth is the power of the party machine. We have traced out

minutely how the public life of the United States demands two parties,

how each of these may hope for victory only if it is compactly

organized, and how such organizations need an army of more or less

professional politicians. They may be in the legislature or out of it;

it is their position in the party machine which gives them their

tremendous powers—powers which do not derive from constitutional

principles nor from law, but which are in a way intangible, and

therefore the more liable to abuse.

Richard Croker has never been mayor of New York, and yet he was for a

long time dictator of that city, no matter what Democratic mayor was in

office, and remained dictator even from his country place in England. He

ruled the municipal Democratic party machine, and therefore all the

mayors and officials were merely pawns in his hands. Millions of dollars

floated his way from a thousand invisible sources, all of which were

somehow connected with municipal transactions; and his conscience was as

elastic as his pocket-book. That is what his enemies say, while his

friends allege him to be a man of honour; and nothing has really been

proved against him. But at least one thing is incontestable, that the

system of the party machine and the party boss makes such undemonstrable

corruption possible. Almost every state legislature is in the clutches

of such party mandarins, and even men who are above the suspicion of

venality misuse the tempting power which is centred in their hands in

the service of their personal advantage and reputation, of their

sympathies and antipathies, and transform their Democratic leadership

into autocracy and terrorism. In the higher sense, however, every

victory which they win for their party is like the victory of Pyrrhus,

for their selfish absolutism injures the party more than any advantage

which it wins at the polls benefits it. Their omnipotence is, moreover,

only apparent, for in reality there is a power in the land which is

stronger than they, and stronger than Presidents or legislatures, and

which takes care that all the dangers and evils, sins and abuses that

spring up are finally thrown off without really hindering the steady

course of progress. This power is public opinion.

CHAPTER SEVEN

_Public Opinion_

We have spoken of the President and Congress, of the organization of

court and state, and, above all, of the parties, in order to show the

various forms in which the genius of the American nation has expressed

itself. It may seem almost superfluous to recognize public opinion as a

separate factor in political affairs. It is admitted that public opinion

is potent in æsthetic, literary, moral, and social problems, with all of

which parties and constitutions have nothing to do. But it might be

supposed that when a people has surrounded itself with a network of

electoral machinery, supports hundreds of thousands of representatives

and officials, has perfected parties with their armies of politicians

and legislatures which every year discuss and pass on thousands of

laws—it might be supposed that in regard to political questions public

opinion would have found its complete expression along official

channels, and in a sense would have exhausted itself. Yet this is not

the case. The entire political routine, with its paraphernalia, forms a

closed system, which is distinct in many ways from the actual public

opinion of the country.

It is indeed no easy matter to find under what conditions the will of a

people can most directly express itself in the official machinery of

politics. Many Germans, for instance, entertain the notion that no

government is truly democratic except the cabinet be in all matters

dependent on a majority in parliament; and they are astonished to learn

that in democratic America Congress has no influence on the election of

the highest officials; that the President, in fact, may surround himself

with a cabinet quite antagonistic to the political complexion of

Congress. But no American believes that politics would represent public

opinion any better if this independence of the Executive and his cabinet

were to be modified, say in conformity with the English or French idea.

The reasons for a discrepancy between public opinion and official

politics lie anyhow not in the special forms prescribed by the

Constitution, but in the means by which the forms prescribed by the

Constitution are practically filled by the nation. In the English

Constitution, for instance, there is nothing about a cabinet; and yet

the cabinet is the actual centre of English politics. American politics

might keep to the letter of the Constitution, and still be the truest

reflection of public opinion. That they are not such a reflection is due

to the strong position of the parties. The rivalry of these encourages

keen competition, in which the success of the party has now become an

end in itself quite aside from the principles involved. Personal

advantages to be derived from the party have become prominent in the

minds of its supporters; and even where the motives are unselfish, the

tactics of the party are more important than its ideals. But tactics are

impossible without discipline, and a party which hopes to be victorious

in defending its own interests or in opposing others’ will be no mere

debating club, but a relentlessly strict and practical organization.

Wherewith the control must fall to a very few party leaders, who owe

their positions to professional politicians—that is, to men who for the

most part stand considerably below the level of the best Americans.

The immense number of votes cast in the Presidential elections is apt to

hide the facts. Millions vote for one candidate and millions for the

other, without knowing perhaps that a few months before the national

convention some ten or twelve party leaders, sitting at a quiet little

luncheon, may have had the power to fix on the presidential candidate.

And these wise foreordainings are even less conspicuous in the case of

governors, senators, or representatives. Everywhere the masses believe

that they alone decide, and so they do between the nominees of one party

and of the other, or sometimes between several candidates within the

party; but they are not aware that a more important choice is made

behind the scenes before these candidates make their appearance.

As with the incumbents, so it is with the platform. The party leaders

practically decide what questions shall be made the political issues;

and this is the most important function of all. We have seen that

dissenting groups can hardly hope on ordinary occasions to make a break

in the firm party organization, and though they may vigorously discuss

questions which have not been approved by the party leaders, they will,

nevertheless, arrive at no practical results. It therefore happens very

often that voters are called on to decide issues which seem to them

indifferent, or to choose between two evils, and can expect nothing from

either candidate in the matters which they think most vital. They go to

the polls merely out of consideration for their party. Thus, in reality,

the people do not decide the issues on which they are to vote, nor on

the candidates whom they elect, nor yet on the party leaders who do

decide these things. Nor can the people, if discontented with the party

in power, recall that party during its term of office. In Germany the

government can dissolve parliament if new issues arise; in England the

Cabinet resigns if it fails to carry a measure; but in America the party

with a congressional majority has nothing to fear during its appointed

term. In short, the political life of America is dominated by those

forces which rule the parties, and only in so far as the nation is

filled with the party spirit, is the official political hierarchy an

expression of the nation’s will.

Now it is not in the nature of public opinion to nerve itself up to

clear and definite issues. Unless worked on by party demagogues, it

never formulates itself in a mere yes or no, but surveys the situation

impartially, seeing advantages and disadvantages on both sides, and

passes a conservative judgment. The man who thinks only of parties will

often agree to a compromise which is unjust to both parties and in

general unworthy of them; but the man who takes his stand above the

parties knows that many problems are not fathomed with a yea or nay; he

does not see two opposite sides between which an artificial compromise

is to be found, but he appreciates the given situation in its organic

unity and historical perspective. Historical understanding of the past

and moral seriousness for the future guarantee his right judgment. He

sees the practical opposition of interests, which is always more complex

than the two-horned dilemma that the parties advertise, in a true light,

and testimony of experts instead of politicians suggests to him the

rational solution of the problem. The actual course of action to be

followed may coincide with the plan of one or the other party, or may be

a compromise between them, and yet it will be a distinct policy. In such

decisions there lives ever the spirit of immediate reality; no

artificial dichotomy nor any political tactics are involved, and the

natural moral feeling of a healthy nation is then sufficient for every

issue. Nowhere is this naïve moral sense more potent among the masses

than in America; will then these unpartisan convictions have no weight

in political life? Will they not rather strive to have an independent

effect on the destinies of the nation? The centre and real expression of

these politics for essentials is the system of public opinion.

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