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Democrazy: Egypt and the Eternal Constitution
By Selwyn Duke A little less than a century ago, the West entertained the notion that WWI would be "the war to end all wars." Insofar as this was seriousness and not just selling point, it was naiveté. Obviously, a military solution cannot solve a moral problem – nor can it change man's nature. And while we should realize this today, we now fall victim to another flight of fancy. This is the idea that a political solution can solve a moral problem.
What consistency. What bunk. You see, I seem to remember something called Proposition 8, that marriage-protection amendment passed by the people of California. Now, perhaps my memory fails me, but I don't quite recall liberals passing the bong and saying, "Well, the people voted for the measure, so we have to accept it, dude." But I do recall the gnashing of teeth, acerbic vitriol, and violent protests against the people's democratically rendered decision. The point is that only the most pathetic sheep accept a decision – whether made democratically or not – they consider immoral. Poison is poison, whether inflicted or chosen; consensus cannot make a bad politician or policy good. Yet the belief in democracy as panacea is widespread, so we need to explore the matter more deeply. Now, some have said that the difference between 1979 Iran and 2011 Egypt is communication technology. With widespread access to the Internet, young people are exposed to the outside world and other ideas – and they know about "freedom." And, these optimists tell us, à la George Bush, that everyone ("most people" is more accurate) wants freedom. Ah, 'tis true, most everyone wants freedom. So does an animal. Yet civilization cannot be safe when animals roam free, which is why the beasts within it are generally leashed, penned in or imprisoned in a zoo. For wanting and acquiring are very different things. (And being able to manage something is different still.) Everyone wants health, but many still eat, drink and smoke themselves to death. Everyone wants wealth, but many still lack the discipline to apply themselves to a skill or hold down a job. And everyone wants good government, but some still glom onto demagogues who promise bread and circuses. The problem is that a people may want better than what they are, but they cannot be better than what they are. As Edmund Burke said, "It is written in the eternal constitution that men of intemperate minds cannot be free. Their passions forge their fetters." This great truth isn't hard to understand. It's as in Lord of the Flies, William Golding's story about a large group of schoolboys who get stranded on an uninhabited island and must fend for themselves. They start out as a democracy, voting for their leader, but quickly degenerate into a brutal dictatorship governed by a demagogue. But they are only children, you say? That is the point. They simply weren't mature enough – and "maturity" actually refers to moral development – to maintain a democratic society that enjoys proper freedoms. Their passions forged their fetters. The truth is that morality is the fertilizer of the tree of liberty, while the monster of tyranny feeds on man's vice. I explained this relationship in-depth in 2008, writing:
Unless we understand the aforementioned, we not only won't know what kind of government other nations can sustain, we won't even be fit to sustain our own. And those at America's helm cannot even begin to grasp the morality/government relationship because, being moral relativists, they don't believe in morality. (They certainly do believe in government, though.) But the great thinkers of ages past understood it. This is why, when Benjamin Franklin emerged from the Constitutional Convention and was asked by a woman what kind of government he and the other founders had given us, his reply was, "A republic, madam, if you can keep it." If you can keep it…. Franklin grasped an important truth: Virtue in the people is worth ten thousand laws and vice ten thousand usurpations. The boys in Lord of the Flies couldn't keep their democracy for long. And all over the West modern man descends into moral relativism – which leads to moral primitiveness – and thus moral juvenility. As a result, we are losing our republics. We are increasingly being treated as children, controlled more every year with burgeoning laws, mandates and regulations. As for Egypt, can it have democracy? Perhaps…for at least as long as Golding's island boys, anyway. And here I think of what former leader of Pakistan Pervez Musharraf said after being pressured to institute reforms (I'm paraphrasing): "What good is so-called democracy if Pakistan becomes a failed state?" Democracy is no guarantor of good government. Egyptians may get the vote and Islamists may get the power – and the demo-crazies may nevertheless break out cigars. And the Mideast may go up in smoke. Of course, when observing the tinderbox that is that region, it's comforting to believe in a happily-ever-after system to end all wars. And, oblivious to how Western nations are even now treading that well-worn path from democracy to tyranny, it's easy to think democracy is that system. But the utopians among us miss an important truth: There is no happily ever after this side of the great divide. Foreign policy, arranging and perpetuating civilization, and maintaining peace are never-ending poker games; you play the hand you're dealt, and sometimes the best you can manage is a pragmatic dictator, pacified and paid for – and always provisional.
Something must be remembered about a government of the people, by the people and for the people: It will look like the people. So the question is, does Egyptians' collective face look better than Mubarak? If the answer is no, then it would have been better to keep him than agitate for a republic that wouldn't be kept long, anyway.
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