Tocqueville Returns to America Today
If he returned to America today, Tocqueville might want to revisit his views on self-interest rightly understood, which he considered one of the main pillars of American democracy.
Aurelian Craiutu and Sheldon Gellar
4. Oct. 2020
W
hen Tocqueville visited America in the early 1830s, he found there the image of a vibrant democracy, that was supposed to be a model for other parts of the world. In 1857, as America was preparing for the inauguration of President James Buchanan, the country that Tocqueville had admired so much had become a nation on the brink, torn apart by the twin issues of slavery and state rights. Neither the tradition of self-government nor religion could stave off the descent of the country into the civil war that started four years later.
Today, America seems again to be a nation on the brink as the country is struggling to come to terms with bouts of violence, deepening inequalities, racist episodes, and hyper-polarization. Tocqueville would not be surprised by these developments if he returned to America today. But he may feel inclined to revisit some of his original remarks, beginning with his emphasis on the equality of conditions as the defining trait of American democracy.
He might wonder whether the inequality of conditions has not become the dominant trend in the American society. In the second volume of Democracy in America, he had warned about the possible emergence of a new industrial aristocracy, harder than anything the world had seen before. If unchecked, it could threaten the future of democracy. Such a possibility has materialized in our era of globalization. The growing inequality and disconnect between Wall Street and Main Street are obvious to any observer of the American scene. The new finance-based billionaires have been thriving in the new global context, but their fabulous wealth, based on hi-tech and real estate rather than manufacturing, does not bode well for the future of American democracy.
Unlike the real aristocrats of yesteryear, the nouveaux riches have weak roots in the real world and no sense of duty or noblesse oblige. In their unrestrained pursuit of wealth, pleasure, and comfort, they shelter their capital in foreign tax havens and welcome tax cuts at home that add to the country’s massive fiscal deficit. Their obsession with profit and passion for risk remind us of the “anxious gamblers” described by Tocqueville in his private correspondence. In a letter to Theodore Sedgwick from October 14, 1856, after noting “the prodigious number of foreigners” that risked turning the Americans “into a new people.” Tocqueville expressed his concern regarding the ethos of the people. He referred to “this race of anxious gamblers to which your prosperity, in a land that is half empty, has brought forth, a race which combines the passions and instincts of the savage with the tastes, needs, vigour and vices of civilized men. The world, I think, has never seen anything like it before.” And Tocqueville mused rhetorically: “Who can say where this might lead if they ever gain the upper hand in your affairs?”[i]
If he returned to America today, he would not have to change much to his words. He would reiterate that the relentless quest for wealth tends to encourage an excessive spirit of enterprise, adventure, and risk. Once free reign is given to boundless ambitions and interests, extreme desires are aroused and artificial material needs are generated. Tocqueville would also advise us to be a bit more cautious about the benefits of the free market. Making it work efficiently is far from being an easy task. He might also point to the decline of workers’ ties with the capital, declining real incomes, the loss of economic freedom, and the erosion of civic solidarity. All these, he would say, are worrying signs for the future of American democracy.
Alexis de Tocqueville
(1805-1859)
Tocqueville would note that the general unease and uncertainty are fuelled by the decline in civility and rise of political violence, tied to racist incidents across the country. But again, he would be hardly surprised. In the 1850s, American politics witnessed a ruthless competition for power, marked by coarseness and violence. In a letter to Sedgwick from September 19, 1855, Tocqueville denounced “the violent, intolerant, and lawless spirit”[ii] manifested in some parts of the country. He reiterated the same concern two years later, in another letter to Francis Lieber from October 9, 1857.[iii] Tocqueville deplored the acts of personal revenge and violence that tended to subvert the authority of the law, and he wondered about the independence of the judicial system in America.
If he returned to America today, Tocqueville might want to revisit his views on self-interest rightly understood, which he considered one of the main pillars of American democracy. It once combined individual freedom with community service and civic solidarity. Now, the Frenchman might say, many American citizens feel they are on their own, left on their own devices, separated from their fellow citizens by a thick wall of indifference, apathy, and distrust.
Tocqueville would be particularly disturbed by the increasing polarization in the US. Today the country is deeply polarized between a “red” and “blue” America that seem to be increasingly disconnected from each other. In “red” America, people work in manufacturing or agricultural jobs, drive pick-up trucks, and drink mass-produced beer. In the “blue” bubbles of America, people go to posh restaurants, drive fuel-efficient cars, and could easily explain the differences between Bordeaux and Bourgogne wines. Tocqueville might think that they inhabit different planets, held together by tenuous links that could break at any moment.
Social media and cable news do not play a constructive role in this regard. They fuel extreme forms of partisanship and ideological intransigence across the country. If Tocqueville watched our TV news or followed Trump’s tweets, he would have many reasons to be concerned about the present situation. Our political discourse verges on extremism and conveys hyper-partisan commentaries and little information. The line between real and alternative facts has become fuzzy, and the degradation of mores can hardly be denied by impartial observers.
In the 1850s, Tocqueville has noted a similar deterioration of mores that raised red flags for him. In a letter to Sedgwick on December 4, 1852, he wrote: “As your compatriot, I have not seen without apprehension this spirit of conquest, and even plunder, which has manifested itself amongst you for several years now. It is not a sign of good health.” The violence and sectarianism that concerned Tocqueville back then were due to the issue of slavery that divided the northern and southern states. Today, slavery is gone, but the roots of racism have not been entirely eradicated. As the controversies surrounding BLM demonstrate, race remains a highly divisive factor. The same ingredients underlying slavery before the civil war—master, race, white power—are still present, albeit in different nuances and proportions. Today, fear of becoming a minority among the white working class fans the flames of civil unrest. Divisive and irresponsible leaders encourage extremist streams that are gaining ground and threaten national unity.
Although Tocqueville might be worried by the re-emergence of nativist impulses, he would not be taken by surprise. In the correspondence with his American friends, he commented on the rise of Know-Nothing movement and anti-foreigner sentiments. Today, the animus against immigrants is strong again, a surprising trend for a country whose main symbol remains the Statue of Liberty. In the 1850s, German immigrants were regarded with suspicion because many thought they lacked “true” American political values and the culture of self-government. Today, the Germans have been replaced by Hispanics, Muslims, and non-white immigrant minorities. President Trump and his supporters rallied around the slogan “America first” and “Make America Great Again,” but their America no longer offers generous asylum and opportunities to the suffering and the persecuted of the world.
Tocqueville would be also disappointed by the tarnishing of America’s image as a model for other countries. But once again, he would hardly be shocked. He always knew that for all its political progress, America remained a young and immature democracy, prone to excess. “What is certain,” Tocqueville wrote in a letter to Sedgwick from August 29, 1856, “is that, for some years now, you have strangely abused the advantages given to you by God which allow you to commit great errors with impunity. Viewed from this side of the ocean, you have become the puer robustus of Hobbes. Being so, you distress all the friends of democratic liberty and delight all of its opponents.”[iv] The country, Tocqueville believed, resembled inexperienced and moody children, unable to control emotions, passions, and whims.
A century and a half later, Tocqueville’s words ring true once more. The present moment brings serious challenges, but it might also be a unique possibility for renewal. If America has given little satisfaction to the friends of freedom lately, this does not mean that democracy is doomed to fail. The country may be deeply polarized, but still has important resources to draw on: federalism, localism, a tradition of checks and balances and a robust struggle against racism and segregation. The Americans’ pragmatism can be mobilized to hold their leaders accountable, reduce inequality and discrimination, and decrease polarization. American democracy, Tocqueville wrote in 1852, “has nothing more to fear than from itself, from the abuse of democracy, the spirit of adventure and conquest, from the sense and exaggerated pride in its strength, and from the passions of youth.”[v] He might repeat the same words today if he visited us again.
Note: The present text draws on and develops some of the ideas presented in a shorter and different essay, “Will We Heed Tocqueville’s Warnings?”, The Bulwark (September 25, 2020).
Aurelian Craiutu is Professor of Political Science at Indiana University, Bloomington. He translated and edited (with Jeremy Jennings) Tocqueville on America after 1840: Letters and Other Writings (2009) and is the author, most recently, of Faces of Moderation: The Art of Balance in An Age of Extremes (2017)
Sheldon Gellar is a former associate of the Ostrom Workshop at Indiana University. He has worked as a consultant on development and democracy in francophone Africa and is the author of Democracy in Senegal: Tocquevillian Analytics in Africa (2005). In 2009, Craiutu and Gellar co-edited Conversations with Tocqueville: The Global Democratic Revolution in the Twenty-First Century.
Notes:
[i] Tocqueville on America after 1840: Letters and Other Writings, eds. and trans. by Aurelian Craiutu and Jeremy Jennings (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp. 188-89.
[ii] Ibid., p. 165.
[iii] Ibid., p. 261.
[iv] Ibid., p. 183.
[v] Ibid., p. 139.
