Speaking very loosely, one might distinguish between weak or minimalist theories of democracy on the one hand, and strong or populist theories of democracy on the other. The former characterize democracy in terms of competitive elections, representative assemblies, and secure constitutional rights, and they regard its value primarily as instrumental—as a prophylactic against cruder sorts of despotism and corruption, for example. Perhaps such authors as Joseph Schumpeter, Robert Dahl, William Riker, or Adam Przeworski come to mind as representative of this approach. The latter, by contrast, characterize democracy in terms of widespread vigorous participation, direct local action, and radical social movements, and they regard its value primarily as intrinsic—as embodying a particularly excellent form of human life. Perhaps Hannah Arendt or Benjamin Barber come to mind as examples of this view. J. S. Maloy clearly falls into the second of these camps, and Democratic Statecraft represents an effort to contribute to the strong or populist democratic tradition. It is much less clear, however, what that contribution is supposed to be.
The four central chapters offer a reasonably straightforward survey of populist themes in the Western tradition. Chapter 3 focuses on the ancient Greeks through Aristotle, Chapter 4 on the reception of Aristotle and Renaissance political theory, Chapter 5 on the English Civil War and the early American colonies, and Chapter 6 on the politics of the Gilded Age. Thrasymachus, Aristotle, Machiavelli, Cromwell, the levelers, and the American populists are favorably juxtaposed to Socrates, Plato, More, Winthrope, and so on. Two core insights are seen as emblematic of the populist democratic tradition: first, faith in the wisdom of the multitude, and second, distrust in the capacity of elections alone to implement genuine democracy. These chapters are vigorously written. They range widely but effectively across sources both familiar (Aristotle, Machiavelli) and obscure (George of Trebizond, D. M. Means); and they creatively deploy diverse literary and historical examples, from the legend of Jason and the Argonauts to the Sicilian Vespers to Shakespeare’s Coriolanus. In short, they make for an entertaining—perhaps even inspiring—review of the democratic tradition.
Maloy wants to do more than this, however. Here, confusion sets in. The historical survey of populist democratic theory is framed as a grand contest between realism and idealism, and Chapter 2 purports to offer an excursus on the meaning of “realism” in the relevant sense. Unfortunately, this reader was less sure what the author meant by realism after reading the chapter than before. Sometimes realism seems to mean what moral philosophers call consequentialism: sometimes endorsing political engagement over contemplative withdrawal; sometimes being willing to view politics descriptively rather than evaluatively; sometimes focusing on material instead of immaterial benefits or goods; and sometimes eschewing infeasible utopianism in favor of practical reform. Sometimes it just seems to mean being a moral skeptic. These are all importantly distinct topics, however, and much clarity is lost by running them all together. Maloy’s attempt to digest the tangle into two main dimensions of realism does little to help; indeed, he does not definitively state which quadrant in the resulting two-by-two table represents the sense of realism relevant for his argument as a whole.
The book purports to be a defense of “realism” in democratic theory. But who are the “idealists” against whom realism must be defended? Perhaps they are the democratic minimalists, on the grounds that they have too great a faith in the efficacy of mere elections and human rights. But, one might reasonably ask, efficacy for what? Democratic minimalists typically have modest aims—reducing the risk that masses of people will die in famines, for instance. Democratic minimalists do not need much democracy because they have no lofty aims for it. In what sense, then, can they be described as idealists? Perhaps the idealists in question are other populist democrats who place their trust in mere elections and human rights to achieve the loftier aim of a genuinely democratic political community. But are there any such naive populist democrats? While I am no expert in democratic theory, it is my impression that the populist tradition never had any such faith, and indeed Maloy’s historical survey reinforces rather than challenges this impression. The intended target thus remains a mystery.
Perhaps the underlying aim is, rather, to offer a robust case for strong democracy as such. If so, the author is hoisted by his own realist petard, for in declaiming ethical knowledge and embracing skepticism in the realist package, he finds himself ultimately without grounds for arguing that populist democracy is better than any alternative. (Repeated references are made to “systemic utility” as something different from either utilitarianism on the one hand or individual interest on the other; but a more explicit definition, unfortunately, eluded this reader.) “Humans like what tastes good to them,” Maloy writes on the concluding page, and thus “real democracy isn’t for everyone.” Apparently, his message boils down to this: If you want to fight for strong democracy, go for it—but be prepared to fight dirty.
Just how little practical guidance this offers is neatly illustrated by two of Maloy’s own illustrations. The first relates the ending of the film The Mission, in which a Jesuit mission in South America is about to be unjustly attacked by overwhelming military forces. Maloy unfavorably contrasts the naive idealism of Father Gabriel, who denounces violent resistance, with the hard-nosed realism of Rodrigo Mendoza, who prepares to defend the mission by force. The second relates the dilemma faced by American populists in the election of 1896—whether or not they should moderate their radical platform and join with the mainstream Democratic party. Here, surprisingly, the author criticizes moderation on the grounds that realism would require not becoming too attached to any specific reforms that the Democratic Party might have helped the populists achieve. Considering the two illustrations together, it seems that realism is too malleable a notion to provide much helpful advice. Indeed, what is perhaps most revealing about Maloy’s illustrations is that both describe hopeless causes, as perhaps strong democracy itself is in the modern world. One gets the distinct impression by the end of Democratic Statecraft that he protests his realism too much. Perhaps he is, in truth, an unreconstructed democratic idealist.
