The Machiavellians: Defenders of Freedom

by James Burnham

The meaning of this optimum combination can be translated as follows into more usual terms: (1) The masses have faith in an integrating myth or ideology, a strong sense of group solidarity, a willingness to endure physical hardship and sacrifice. (2) The best and most active brains of the community are concentrated in the élite, and ready to take advantage of whatever opportunities the historical situation presents. (3) At the same time the élite is not cynical, and does not depend exclusively upon its wits, but is able to be firm, to use force, if the internal or external condition calls for it. (4) The élite is prevented from gross degeneration through the ability of new elements to rise into its ranks.

Even in the latter case, however, it is always an illusion to suppose that the masses themselves take power through a revolution. The masses can never successfully revolt until they acquire a leadership, which is always made up in part of able and ambitious individuals from their own ranks who cannot gain entrance into the governing élite, and in part of disgruntled members of the existing élite

Second, in discussing the distribution of residues, Pareto implicitly joins the other Machiavellians in an evident preference for social checks and balances. The strongest and healthiest societies balance a predominance of Class I residues in the élite with a predominance of Class II residues in the non-élite. But Class II residues must not be altogether excluded from the élite. If Class II residues prevail in all classes, the nation develops no active culture, degenerates in a slough of brutality and stubborn prejudice, in the end is unable to overcome new forces in its environment, and meets disaster. Disaster, too, awaits the nation given over wholly to Class I residues, with no regard for the morrow, for discipline or tradition, with a blind confidence in clever tricks as the sufficient means for salvation.

An objective science of politics, and of society, comparable in its methods to the other empirical sciences, is possible. Such a science will describe and correlate observable social facts, and, on the basis of the facts of the past, will state more or less probable hypotheses about the future. Such a science will be neutral with respect to any practical political goal: that is, like any other science, its statements will be tested by facts accessible to any observer, rich or poor, ruler or ruled, and will in no way be dependent upon the acceptance of some particular ethical aim or ideal.

The primary subject-matter of political science is the struggle for social power in its diverse open and concealed forms.

From a Machiavellian point of view, a social revolution means a comparatively rapid shift in the composition and structure of the élite and in the mode of its relation to the non-élite. It is possible to state the conditions under which such a rapid shift takes place. The principal of these conditions are the following:

The theory of democracy as self-government must, therefore, be understood as a myth, formula, or derivation. It does not correspond to any actual or possible social reality. Debates over the merits of the theory are almost wholly valueless in throwing light on social facts.

The theory does not correctly describe any social facts. No societies are governed by the people, by a majority; all societies, including societies called democratic, are ruled by a minority. But the ruling minority always seeks to justify and legitimize its rule in part through a formula, without which the social structure would disintegrate. The positive significance of democratic theory is as a political formula of this kind.

The democratic formula and the practice of suffrage do not mean the self-government of the people by themselves. They do, however, constitute a special mechanism of rule by the minority élite, differing from other mechanisms.

In addition, the existence in society of the suffrage machinery naturally tends to favor those individuals who are adept at using the machinery; just as, in a society where rule is founded directly on force, the ablest fighting men are favored against the rest.

Under those conditions, the democratic formula and the introduction of wider suffrage machinery weakened the position of the older, non-democratic aristocracy, and greatly aided the newer, capitalist élite. The spread of the democratic formula and the electoral practices were an important, even essential, factor, in the rise of the capitalists to the dominant place in the modern ruling class.

In every advanced nation we observe the evolution of the form of government toward that wherein a small group of leaders, or a single leader, claims to represent and speak for the whole people. As the embodiment of the will of the whole people, the leader claims an unlimited authority, and considers all intermediary political bodies, such as parliaments or local governments, to be wholly dependent on the central sovereignty which can alone stand legitimately for the people.

Bonapartism is a type of government very dissimilar to what men in the 19th century ordinarily thought of as democracy. Nevertheless, as we have already seen, Bonapartism does not violate the formula of democracy nor the place assigned to suffrage. Rather can Bonapartist theory plausibly claim to be the logical as well as the historical culmination of the democratic formula, just as the plebiscite can claim to be the most perfect form of democratic suffrage.

When we keep in mind the connection between Bonapartism and the formula of democracy as government by the people, we should not be surprised by what might otherwise seem to be a paradoxical political phenomenon: the rapidly growing number of individuals in this country who may properly be called “democratic totalitarians.”

Some people have the naïve opinion that in other countries despotism was established in the name of despotism, that dictators who were in the process of destroying freedom made clear to the people that they were doing just that. Naturally, it never happens that way. The modern despotisms have all marched to the tune of “the workers” or “the people.”

Honest men have never been able to get an exclusive patent on the words of democracy.

They know that the degree of liberty present within a society is a fact of the greatest consequence for the character of the whole social structure and for the individuals living within that structure.

Hence freedom to express one’s thought, even counter to the opinion of the majority or of all, even when it offends the sentiments of the few or of the many, even when it is generally reputed absurd or criminal, always proves favorable to the discovery of objective truth.”

Experience seems to show that, almost always, liberty is a condition for an advanced “level of civilization,” in the sense that Mosca uses this expression. That is, liberty is needed to permit the fullest release of the potential social forces and creative impulses present in society, and their maximum development. With liberty absent, great development may occur along certain restricted lines—in religion, perhaps, or the technique of war, or a conventionalized art style—but the compulsory conformity to official opinion limits variety and stultifies creative freshness not only in the arts and sciences, but in economic and political affairs as well.

The crucial difference that freedom makes to a society is found in the fact that the existence of a public opposition (or oppositions) is the only effective check on the power of the governing élite.

The Machiavellians present the complete record: the primary object, in practice, of all rulers is to serve their own interest, to maintain their own power and privilege. There are no exceptions. No theory, no promises, no morality, no amount of good will, no religion will restrain power. Neither priests nor soldiers, neither labor leaders nor businessmen, neither bureaucrats nor feudal lords will differ from each other in the basic use which they will seek to make of power.

Only power restrains power. That restraining power is expressed in the existence and activity of oppositions. Oddly and fortunately, it is observable that the restraining influence of an opposition much exceeds its apparent strength. As anyone with experience in any organization knows, even a small opposition, provided it really exists and is active, can block to a remarkable degree the excesses of the leadership. But when all opposition is destroyed, there is no longer any limit to what power may do. A despotism, any kind of despotism, can be benevolent only by accident.

Since rule depends upon the ability to control the existing social forces, the opposition seeks to draw forces to its side, and to win over new leaders who are coming up from the ranks of society. In this attempt it must promise certain benefits to various groups; if successful, it must keep at least a few of the promises. At the same time, the struggle stimulates new demands by many groups, even by the non-élite.

The net indirect result of the struggle, which from one point of view is only a fight between two sets of leaders, can thus be benefits for large sections of the masses. The masses, blocked by the iron law of oligarchy from directly and deliberately ruling themselves, are able to limit and control, indirectly, the power of their rulers. The myth of self-government is translated into a measure of reality by the fact of freedom.

It is only when there are several different major social forces, not wholly subordinated to any one social force, that there can be any assurance of liberty, since only then is there the mutual check and balance that is able to chain power. There is no one force, no group, and no class that is the preserver of liberty.

Liberty is preserved by those who are against the existing chief power. Oppositions which do not express genuine social forces are as trivial, in relation to entrenched power, as the old court jesters.

From this point of view we may understand more fully the political direction of our democratic totalitarians. The state, they say, when it is led by their leader—and it will always be, because they take as their leader the one who happens to be in the saddle—is the people. Democracy is the supremacy of the people. Therefore, democracy is the supremacy of the state. Whenever the state absorbs another phase of social life, that is a victory for democracy. And therefore, more particularly: a serious critic of the state or its policies is an extremist and maybe a traitor. “Pressure groups,” as they call them—that is,...

Not unity but difference, not the modern state but whatever is able to maintain itself against the state, not leaders but the unyielding opponents of leaders, not conformity with official opinion but persisting criticism, are the defenses of freedom.

A physicist would find it ludicrous if every treatise in his field habitually included a plan for curing the ills of mankind, and selected facts—and fictions—with the chief aim of proving the desirability of that plan. Yet, in 99% of the articles and books which pretend to tell us the way society works, such a method is accepted, without comment, as normal.

More particularly and deliberately, the public application of scientific method to politics is interfered with by those who are powerful. They do not want genuine political knowledge to be available, and they block freedom of inquiry whenever it threatens, as it so often threatens, to undermine their power. From the time of the Greek sophists until today, everyone who, by objective inquiry, discloses some of the truth about power has been denounced by official opinion as subversive.

We have available, indeed, much more knowledge about society than is ordinarily recognized—and far more than is ever used. There is a widespread misunderstanding about the nature of scientific knowledge, partly fostered by academic scientists who prefer their profession to remain an esoteric cult.

Many modern politicians habitually tell the people that “their fate is in their own hands,” they rule themselves, they make the final and fundamental decisions, they are the court of last appeal. Remarks of this kind are all derivations expressing some variant of the democratic formulas. Their real purpose is to enable the politicians, while ruling in their own interests, to protect their regime by the moral sanction of the myth of the popular will.

An honest statement to the masses, which by the nature of the case of a politician cannot give, would have to say: you cannot rule yourselves; distrust all leaders, and above all those who tell you that they are merely expressing or representing your will; erect and cherish every possible safeguard against the unchecked exercise of power. Even though such a statement is never made, there are many among the masses who understand its meaning without being told.

When it is accepted that the rulers rule as the mere agents for the will of the masses, then their rule becomes irresponsible. The rulers are no longer personally accountable for their actions: they may go to war, persecute, steal, violate freedoms, fail to prepare for social or military crises, and yet never be brought to task for whatever crime or failure—they have only, they say, carried out the people’s will; if the masses are stupid or selfish or easy-going or short-sighted, who are their humble rulers to be blamed?

The fate of an entire society is frequently—whether one likes it or not, and unjust as it may seem usually to be—bound up with the fate of its ruling class.

The lessons of history show that a ruling class can seldom continue long in power unless it is prepared to open its ranks to able and ambitious newcomers from below. A scientific ruling class will therefore keep its ranks open; and this will also be to the benefit of the ruled both in providing an outlet for dynamic individuals, and even more through permitting a greater expansion of creative social energies.

A dilemma confronts any section of the élite that tries to act scientifically. The political life of the masses and the cohesion of society demand the acceptance of myths. A scientific attitude toward society does not permit belief in the truth of the myths. But the leaders must profess, indeed foster, belief in the myths, or the fabric of society will crack and they be overthrown. In short, the leaders, if they themselves are scientific, must lie. It is hard to lie all the time in public but to keep privately an objective regard for the truth. Not only is it hard; it is often ineffective, for lies are often not convincing when told with a divided heart. The tendency is for the deceivers to become self-deceived, to believe their own myths.

Though the change will never lead to the perfect society of our dreams, we may hope that it will permit human beings at least that minimum of moral dignity which alone can justify the strange accident of man’s existence.