The thing that is really required for
the proper working of democracy is not merely the democratic system, or even
the democratic philosophy, but the democratic emotion. The democratic emotion,
like most elementary and indispensable things, is a thing difficult to describe
at any time.
But it is peculiarly difficult to
describe it in our enlightened age, for the simple reason that it is peculiarly
difficult to find it. It is a certain instinctive attitude which feels the
things in which all men agree to be unspeakably important, and all the things
in which they differ (such as mere brains) to be almost unspeakably
unimportant.
The nearest approach to it in our
ordinary life would be the promptitude with which we should consider mere
humanity in any circumstance of shock or death. We should say, after a somewhat
disturbing discovery, “There is a dead man under the sofa.” We should not be
likely to “There is a dead man of considerable personal refinement under the
sofa…”
But this emotion, which all of us have
in connection with such things as birth and death, is to some people native and
constant at all ordinary times and in all ordinary places. It was native to St.
Francis of Assisi. It was native to Walt Whitman. In this strange and splendid
degree it cannot be expected, perhaps, to pervade a whole commonwealth or a
whole civilization… No community, perhaps, ever had it so little as ours…
It is a sufficient proof that we are
not an essentially democratic state that we are always wondering what we shall
do with the poor. If we were democrats, we should be wondering what the poor
will do with us. With us the governing class is always saying to itself, ‘What
laws shall we make?” In a purely democratic state, it would be always saying,
“What laws can we obey?”..
But the modern laws are almost always
laws made to affect the governed class, but not the governing. We have
public-house licensing laws, but not sumptuary laws. That is to say, we have
laws against the festivity and hospitality of the poor, but no laws against the
festivity and hospitality of the rich…
GK Chesterton, Heretics
Reflection – I
have to admit that, as I read this chapter of the book (and, for those of you
who are wondering, we are almost through it), I wondered if it was as highly
relevant to our modern scene as some of the other ones.
But these last two paragraphs cleared
that up for me. Yes, indeed. In fact, the situation has gotten considerably
more dire in the ensuing century. The very first thing that is done when some
laborious, tiresome, burdensome, unlivable set of regulations is passed these
days is that the governing class include an amendment, or slip in some
paragraph somewhere else, declaring themselves and their families and cronies
and donors exempt from it.
This has become so much the norm of
political life in North America that nobody even blinks an eye at it. In
Canada, for example, we are all in a single-payer health care system. I have no
great quarrel with it, and frankly suspect it’s the best possible option of a
lousy bunch of options. But it does mean that, barring a life and death
emergency, when you have a health problem in Canada you go on a waiting list,
and you stay on that waiting list until it’s your turn.
But a few years ago in Canada, a certain
politician who was (as they all are) a passionate advocate of that system
needed surgery… and promptly flew down to the States to get it immediately.
Where the rest of us have to wait six months to two years for non-acute care,
the governing class do not.
And it is the same in the States, where
the first thing Congress did after passing the Affordable Care Act was excuse
themselves from most of its provisions. And there have subsequently been many
exemptions granted and waivers given to the various groups that financially
support the political party that has passed this particular piece of
legislation. And it goes on like this, and as I say, is the absolute norm of
political conduct (all parties do it, to the extent they have power to do so)
which nobody even gets worked up about, apparently.
Well, it may be many things—a corruption
that cries to heaven for redress, or simply venal and unprincipled human beings
acting as we would expect them to act—but the one thing it is not is democratic. And it does seem to me that,
indeed, the question more and more that needs to be asked by the powerful, the
elite, the governing, is the question posed by GKC in this passage. At the risk
of sounding like a rabble rouser or a revolutionary (which is indeed a side of
my personality that I usually don’t air too much), I will simply repeat it and
sign off for the day.
When the day comes when people have had
enough of this nonsense, what exactly do you think the poor will do to you?
Why do the poor not vote? I don't think it's from apathy. They probably actively wish they weren't poor and had some way to make it not so. Ignorance? If ignorance was a barrier to participation in the governance of society society would be governed much differently.
ReplyDeleteI think they don't participate from fear and intimidation.
History tells us that the poor do not rise up until they are dying. Of starvation, exposure or both and have an identifiable culprit or culprits available within their grasp.
I don't think we're there yet. Maybe it's a pity we are not. Are you afraid of what the poor will do to you when they rise up? Why?
I... don't think you read my post correctly. I am not part of 'the governing class' (haven't passed a law, nor exempted myself from any existing laws, since ever!), and my annual income and expenditures actually puts me (and the members of my community) well below the poverty line, so I'm not sure where you're coming from here. God bless you!
DeleteYou are a member of a World wide Catholic clerical elite, no? You are treated with respect, even reverence. You travel World wide or were you not just in Rome? Your generously larded frame belies having ever missed a meal or even eaten plain fare. Your posts here have more the ring of pronouncement than humble opinion.
ReplyDeleteDo not be coy, Father Denis.