The wise shall lead and rule, and the ignorant shall follow. -- Plato.
Certain objections1 to our interpretation of Plato's political programme have forced us into an investigation of the part played, within this programme, by such moral ideas as Justice, Goodness, Beauty, Wisdom, Truth, and Happiness. The present and the next two chapters are to continue this analysis, and the part played by the idea of wisdom in Plato's political philosophy will occupy us next.
We have seen that Plato's idea of justice demands, fundamentally, that the natural rulers should rule and the natural slaves should slave. It is part of the historicist demand that the state, in order to arrest all change, should be a copy of its Idea, or of its true `nature'. This theory of justice indicates very clearly that Plato saw the fundamental problem of politics in the question: Who should rule the state?
It is my conviction that by expressing the problem of politics in the form `Who should rule?' or `Whose will should be supreme?' etc., Plato created a lasting confusion in political philosophy. It is indeed analogous to the confusion he created in the field of moral philosophy by his identification, discussed in the last chapter, of collectivism and altruism. It is clear that once the question `Who should rule?' is asked, it is hard to avoid some such reply as `the best' or `the wisest' or `the born ruler' or `he who masters the art of ruling' (or, perhaps, `The General Will' or `The Master Race' or `The Industrial Workers' or `The People'). But such a reply, convincing as it may sound --for who would advocate the rule of `the worst' or `the greatest fool' or `the born slave'? --is, as I shall try to show, quite useless.
First of all, such a reply is liable to persuade us that some fundamental problem of political theory has been solved. But if we approach political theory from a different angle, then we find that far from solving any fundamental problems, we have merely skipped over them, by assuming that the question `Who should rule?' is fundamental. For even those who share this assumption of Plato's admit that political rulers are not always sufficiently `good' or `wise' (we need not worry about the precise meaning of these terms), and that it is not at all easy to get a government on whose goodness and wisdom one can implicitly rely. If that is granted, then we must ask whether political thought should not face from the beginning the possibility of bad government; whether we should not prepare for the worst leaders, and hope for the best. But this leads to a new approach to the problem of politics, for it forces us to replace the question: Who should rule? by the new2 question: How can we so organize political institutions that bad or incompetent rulers can be prevented from doing too much damage?
Those who believe that the older question is fundamental, tacitly assume that political power is `essentially' unchecked. They assume that someone has the power --either an individual or a collective body, such as a class. And they assume that he who has the power can, very nearly, do what he wills, and especially that he can strengthen his power, and thereby approximate it further to an unlimited or unchecked power. They assume that political power is, essentially, sovereign. If this assumption is made, then, indeed, the question `Who is to be the sovereign?' is the only important question left.
I shall call this assumption the theory of (unchecked) sovereignty, using this expression not for any particular one of the various theories of sovereignty, proffered more especially by such writers as Bodin, Rousseau, or Hegel, but for the more general assumption that political power is practically unchecked, or for the demand that it ought to be so; together with the implication that the main question left is to get this power into the best hands. This theory of sovereignty is tacitly assumed in Plato's approach, and has played its rôle ever since. It is also implicitly assumed, for instance, by those modern writers who believe that the main problem is: Who should dictate? The capitalists or the workers?
Without entering into a detailed criticism, I wish to point out that there are serious objections against a rash and implicit acceptance of this theory. Whatever its speculative merits may appear to be, it is certainly a very unrealistic assumption. No political power has ever been unchecked, and as long as men remain human (as long as the `Brave New World' has not materialized), there can be no absolute and unrestrained political power. So long as one man cannot accumulate enough physical power in his hands to dominate all others, just so long must he depend upon his helpers. Even the most powerful tyrant depends upon his secret police, his henchmen and his hangmen. This dependence means that his power, great as it may be, is not unchecked, and that he has to make concessions, playing one group off against another. It means that there are other political forces, other powers besides his own, and that he can exert his ruler only by utilizing and pacifying them. This shows that even the extreme cases of sovereignty are never cases of pure sovereignty. They are never cases in which the will or the interest of one man (or if there were such a thing, t he will or the interest of one group) can achieve his aim directly, without giving up some of it in order to enlist powers which he cannot conquer. And in an overwhelming number of cases, the limitations of political power go much further than this.
I have stressed these empirical points, not because I wish to use them as an argument, but merely in order to avoid objections. My claim is that every theory of sovereignty omits to face a more fundamental question --the question, namely, whether we should not strive towards institutional control of the rulers by balancing their powers against other powers. This theory of checks and balances can at least claim careful consideration. The only objections to this claim, as far as i can see, are (a) that such a control is practically impossible, or (b) that it is essentially inconceivable since political power is essentially sovereign3. Both of these dogmatic objections are, I believe, refuted by the facts; and with them fall a number of other influential views (for instance, the theory that the only alternative to the dictatorship of one class is that of another class).
In order to raise the question of institutional control of the rulers, we need not assume more than that governments are not always good or wise. But since I have said something about historical facts, I think I should confess that I feel inclined to go a little beyond this assumption. I am inclined to think that rulers have rarely been above the average, either morally or intellectually, and often below it. And I think that it is reasonable to adopt, in politics, the principle of preparing for the worst, as well as we can, though we should, of course, at the same time try to obtain the best. It appears to me madness to base all our political efforts upon the faint hope that we shall be successful in obtaining excellent, or even competent, rulers. Strongly as I feel in these matters, I must insist, however, that my criticism of the theory of sovereignty does not depend on these more personal opinions.
Apart from these personal opinions, and apart from the above mentioned empirical arguments against the general theory of sovereignty, there is also a kind of logical argument which can be used to show the inconsistency of any of the particular forms of the theory of sovereignty; more precisely, the logical argument can be given different but analogous forms to combat the theory that the wisest should ruler, or else the theories that the best, or the law, or the majority, etc., should rule. One particular form of this logical argument is directed against a too naïve version of liberalism, of democracy, and of the principle that the majority should rule; and it is somewhat similar to the well-known `paradox of freedom' which has been used first, and with success, by Plato. In his criticism of democracy, and in his story of the rise of the tyrant, Plato raises implicitly the following question: What if it is the will of the people that they should not ruler, but a tyrant instead? The free man, Plato suggests, may exercise his absolute freedom, first by defying the laws and ultimately by defying freedom itself and by clamouring for a tyrant4. This is not just a far-fetched possibility; it has happened a number of times; and every time it has happened, it has put in a hopeless intellectual position all those democrats who adopt, as the ultimate basis of their political creed, the principle of the majority ruler or a similar form of the principle of sovereignty. On the one hand, the principle they have adopted demands from them that they should oppose any but the majority rule, and therefore the new tyranny; on the other hand, the same principle demands from them that they should accept any decision reached by the majority, and thus the rule of the new tyrant. The inconsistency of their theory must, of course, paralyse their actions5. Those of us democrats who demand the institutional control of the rulers by the ruled, and especially the right of dismissing the government by a majority vote, must therefore base these demands upon better grounds than a self-contradictory theory of sovereignty. (That this is possible will be briefly shown in the next section of this chapter.)
Plato, we have seen, came near to discovering the paradoxes of freedom and of democracy. But what Plato and his followers overlooked is that all the other forms of the theory of sovereignty give rise to analogous inconsistencies. All theories of sovereignty are paradoxical. for instance, we may have selected `the wisest' or `the best' as the ruler. But `the wisest' in his wisdom may find that not he but `the best' should rule, and `the best' in his goodness may perhaps decide that `the majority' should rule. It is important to notice that even that form of the theory of sovereignty which demands the `Kingship of the Law' is open to the same objection. This, in fact, has been seen very early, as Heraclitus' remark6 shows: `The law can demand, too, that the will of One Man must be obeyed.'
In summing up this brief criticism, one can, I believe, assert that the theory of sovereignty is in a weak position, both empirically and logically. The least that can be demanded is that it must not be adopted without careful consideration of other possibilities.
Cp. Republic, 562b - 565e. In the text, I am alluding especially to 562c: `Does not the excess' (of liberty) `bring men to such a state that they badly want a tyranny?' Cp. furthermore 563d/e: `And in the end, as you know well enough, they just do not take any notice of the laws, whether written or unwritten, since they want to have no despot of any kind over them. This then is the origin out of which tyranny springs.' (For the beginning of this passage, see note 19 to chapter 4.)
Other remarks of Plato's on the paradoxes of freedom and of democracy are: Republic, 546a: `Then too much freedom is liable to change into nothing else but too much slavery, in the individual as well as in the state .. Hence it is reasonable to assume that tyranny is enthroned by no other form of government than by democracy. Out of what I believe is the greatest possible excess of freedom springs what is the hardest and most savage form of slavery.' See also Republic, 565c/d: `And are not the common people in the habit of making one man their champion or party leader, and of exalting his position and making him great?' --`This is their habit.' --`Then it seems clear that whenever a tyranny grows up, this democratic party-leadership is the origin from which it springs.'
The so-called paradox of freedom is the argument that freedom in the sense of absence of any restraining control must lead to very great restraint, since it makes the bully free to enslave the meek. This idea is, in a slightly different form, and with a very different tendency, clearly expressed by Plato.
Less well known is the paradox of tolerance: Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them. --In this formulation, I do not imply, for instance, that we should always suppress the utterance of intolerant philosophies; as long as we can counter them by rational argument and keep them in check by public opinion, suppression would certainly most unwise. But we should claim the right to suppress them if necessary even by force; for it may easily turn out that they are not prepared to meet us on the level of rational argument, but begin by denouncing all argument; they may forbid their followers to listen to rational argument, because it is deceptive, and teach them to answer arguments by the use of their fists or pistols. We should therefore claim, in the name of tolerance, the right not to tolerate the intolerant. We should claim that any movement preaching intolerance places itself outside the law, and we should consider incitement to intolerance and persecution as criminal, in the same way as we should consider incitement to murder, or to kidnapping, or to the revival of the slave trade, as criminal.
Another of the less well-known paradoxes is the paradoxes of democracy, or more precisely, of majority-rule; i.e. the possibility that the majority may decide that a tyrant should rule. That Plato's criticism of democracy can be interpreted in the way sketched here, and that the principle of majority-rule may lead to self-contradictions, was first suggested, as far as I Know, by Leonard Nelson (cp. note 25 (2) to this chapter). I do not think, however, that Nelson, who, in spite of his passionate humanitarianism and his ardent fight for freedom, adopted much of Plato's political theory, and especially Plato's principle of leadership, was aware of the fact that analogous arguments can be raised against all the different particular forms of the theory of sovereignty.
All these paradoxes can easily be avoided if we frame our political demands in the way suggested in section II of this chapter, or perhaps in some such manner as this. We demand a government that rules according to the principle of equalitarianism and protectionism; that tolerates all who are prepared to reciprocate, i.e. who are tolerant; that is controlled by, and accountable to, the public. And we may add that some form of majority vote, together with institutions for keeping the public well informed, is the best, though not infallible, means of controlling such a government. (No infallible means exist.) Cp. also chapter 6, the last four paragraphs in the text prior to note 42; text to note 20 to chapter 17; note 7 (4) to chapter 24; and note 6 to the present chapter.
Cp. passage (7) in note 4 to chapter 2.
The following remarks on the paradoxes of freedom and of sovereignty may possibly appear to carry the argument too far; since, however, the arguments discussed in this place are of a somewhat formal character, it may be just as well to make them more watertight, even if it involves something approaching hair-splitting. Moreover, my experience in debates of this kind leads me to expect that the defenders of the leader-principle, i.e. of the sovereignty of the best or the wisest, may actually offer the following counter-argument: (a) if `the wisest' should decide that the majority should rule, then he was not really wise. As a further consideration they may support this by the assertion (b) that a wise man would never establish a principle which might lead to contradiction, like that of majority-rule. My reply to (b) would be that we need only to alter this decision of the `wise' man in such a way that it becomes free from contradictions. (For instance, he could decide in favour of a government bound to rule according to the principle of equalitarianism and protectionism, and controlled by majority vote. This decision of the wise man would give up the sovereignty-principle; and since it would thereby become free from contradictions, it may be made by a `wise' man. But of course, this would not free the principle that the wisest should rule from its contradictions. The other argument, namely (a), is a different matter. It comes dangerously close to defining the `wisdom' or `goodness' of a politician in such a way that he is called `wise' or `good' only if he is determined not to give up his power. And indeed, the only sovereignty-theory which is free from contradictions would be the theory which demands that only a man who is absolutely determined to cling to his power should rule. Those who believe in the leader-principle should frankly face this logical consequence of their creed. If freed from contradiction it implies, not the rule of the best or wisest, but the rule of the strong man, of the man of power. (Cp. also note 7 to chapter 24.)