Few questions are more relevant to democracy, particularly in the post-9/11 era, than how democracies can defend themselves against nondemocratic challengers without undermining their own democratic principles. And yet, this question is rarely addressed in either primarily empirical or (normative) theoretical political science. Alexander S. Kirshner is to be commended for not only daring to tackle this fundamental question but also doing so by employing the conceptual framework of “militant democracy,” which so far has been used almost exclusively within the German context.
In short, Kirschner proposes a “self-limiting theory of militant democracy” that is based on three “interlocking principles”: the participatory principle, the principle of limited intervention, and the principle of democratic responsibility (pp. 6–7). Simply stated, militant democracy is aimed at maximizing participation, should only intervene in exceptional circumstances, and should openly acknowledge the costs of intervention. Kirschner’s arguments are predominantly of a normative theoretical nature, presented in an oft-complex academic style, while the empirical bases of the “real world examples” remain very thin. This is unfortunate, as it might limit his core readership to a fairly narrow group of normative political theorists, while excluding a much larger group of empirical political scientists and political practitioners for whom this topic is also highly relevant.
I am generally quite supportive of the basic principles of Kirschner’s theory. The emphasis on the costs of militant democracy, both to antidemocrats and the democratic system, is too often ignored in academic and public debates, while his stress on temporary measures and their independent and regular evaluation is an important addition to the literature. I also agree that the dominant court-centric model of “judicial review” is naive and ignores the fundamental transformations in the political system preceding the “democratic coup” of antidemocrats. That said, the fact that this is the author’s main interlocutor in his philosophical debates is another indicator of his US-centric approach, which hardly engages with non-U.S. (based) authors.
There are some important problems and shortcomings with Kirschner’s “self-limiting theory of militant democracy.” Not least is the philosophical basis, the theory of “self-limiting revolution” of Adam Michnik and the Polish anticommunist movement Solidarity (pp. 26–33). Kirschner argues that the “basic structure of the ethical challenge faced by militant democrats parallels the challenge faced by democratic rebels” (p. 6). This is a flawed equivalence, however, as democratic rebels have no access to democratic measures to fight antidemocrats under autocracy, whereas militant democrats do have such access under democracy. Concretely, militant democracies have an inclusionary alternative to the exclusionary option.
Fundamentally, I do not think that Kirschner achieves what he sets out to do, namely, provide a model of militant democracy that is tolerant to the intolerant—in opposition to Karl Loewenstein’s original model of militant democracy that “maintained that the intolerant should be met with intolerance” (p. 2). In the end, his model of militant democracy still restricts the rights of one group of citizens to protect the rights of another group, as he also (reluctantly) admits. While this is probably inevitable in any democracy, Kirschner’s self-limiting theory of militant democracy is too repressive because he overstates the importance of the first and third principles and applies the second one too generously.
The participatory principle of militant democracy is based on the understanding that “all citizens, both democrats and antidemocrats, possess indefeasible rights to participate” (p. 6). Kirschner believes that the right to participate politically is intrinsically valuable. In fact, his theory is almost exclusively aimed at protecting the right to participation of all citizens. It thereby loses sight of the actual consequence of that participation: What intrinsic value do the mechanics of participation hold when one has no legal right, and therefore realistic opportunity, to realize one’s preferred goals (because of the outlawing of extremist parties and policies) or when the institutional structure renders one’s participation pointless, that is, devoid of meaningful political consequences?
The principle of limited intervention entails that “the true aim of militant democracy is not the defeat of antidemocrats, but the achievement of a more democratic regime” (p. 25). The latter is achieved when a “regime’s practices and institutions are more consistent with individuals’ equal claims to participation in a fair political system” (p. 5). Kirschner is reluctant to give concrete recommendations, but does note that the “size and political influence” (p. 18) of antidemocratic movements should be taken into account: “Large antidemocratic organizations may require a more extreme response than small, less influential organizations” (p. 18). At the same time, he supports the Equality and Human Rights Commission’s intervention in the membership requirements of the British National Party, by any account a marginal political phenomenon in the United Kingdom. Similarly, he morally rejects so-called preventive intervention, but then says that antidemocrats “can preventively intervene when this appears to be the only way to preserve a legitimate regime” (p. 140; my emphasis).
More fundamentally, I think that Kirschner’s application of the principle of limited intervention is problematic on at least two counts. First, it is based on the assumption that every anti-democratic group is potentially a new German Nazi Party, which will end democracy once it comes to power. He therewith completely ignores the many antidemocratic parties that transformed into democratic parties, most notably the many socialist parties of the early twentieth century. Second, while taking into account the strength of antidemocratic challengers, he ignores the strength of the challenged democracy. Almost all of his “real world examples” are relatively new or vulnerable democracies, from embattled Israel through postcommunist Poland to the post–Civil War United States. As he argues that democracies should respond with more restraint to the challenge of small rather than large antidemocratic groups, one could also contend that consolidated democracies should act more reserved than new or embattled democracies.
Provocatively stated, from the standpoint of the antidemocrat, Kirschner’s self-limiting theory of militant democracy differs from Loewenstein’s original model mainly in one way: It says “I feel your pain” after taking away their democratic rights. In the end though, the political consequences are the same: Militant democrats tell antidemocrats that they can play the democratic game, but only if they follow their rules and let them win. In that sense, the quote from John Locke that Kirschner cites as an example of “a perverse and dubious logic” (pp. 7–8) applies equally to his own self-limiting theory of militant democracy: “It is in effect no more than to bid them first be Slaves, and then to take care of their Liberty; and when their Chains are on, tell them, they may act like Freeman.”
Given the relatively few real-world examples discussed in the book, I would like to use the opportunity of this symposium to push Kirschner to apply his self-limiting theory of militant democracy to two more cases, which, I believe, address important theoretical questions. In both cases, the specific empirical details are irrelevant, as I am more interested in the broader theoretical question.
The first paradigmatic case is the Algerian legislative election of 1991, the closest real-world example of a (imminent) “democratic coup,” in which the Islamist Islamic Salvation Front (FIS) won 48% of the vote in the first round. Fearing it would win a majority of seats, the governing National Liberation Front (FLN) canceled the second round of the elections, and a consecutive military government banned FIS. As FIS was clearly antidemocratic, I assume that Kirschner will agree with this decision of preventive intervention. My main question is, however: Can a decision to cancel the vote of a (near) majority of the people, as well as the ban of the majority party, still be called “democratic”? Or is this a situation in which democracy is simply impossible and there are only choices between liberal and illiberal nondemocratic regimes?
The second case is contemporary Greece, a more or less established democracy ravaged by economic crisis and challenged by a wide range of more or less extremist forces. In the June 2012, parliamentary elections two extremist political parties gained access to the Hellenic Parliament: the neo-Nazi Golden Dawn (XA) with 18 seats and the neo-Stalinist Communist Party of Greece (KKE) with 12 seats. While KKE has been represented in parliament since the reintroduction of democracy in 1974, XA entered parliament for the first time. Assuming that both parties are extremist in the same way—in other words, ignoring the intrinsic violence of the XA—should the Greek state respond more reticently toward KKE than to XA, because of its long history within Greek democracy? If not, how can we still argue that preventive intervention is “the only way” to preserve Greek democracy? If so, how do we know that XA will challenge Greek democracy in a more fundamental way than KKE?
These questions as well as the various points of critique I posed in this contribution are in no way meant as a disqualification of ATheory of Militant Democracy or Kirshner’s theory, which constitutes an important academic contribution to a crucial political question in contemporary democracies. Rather, they should be seen as a direct consequence of the intellectual stimulation that the primarily theoretical book provides to a primarily empirical political scientist interested in similar issues.
