PARTIES IN THE UNITED STATES
Important distinction to be made among parties. — Parties that treat one another like rival nations. — Parties properly so-called. — Difference between great and minor parties. — When they come into being. — Their various characteristics. — America has had great parties. — It no longer does. — Federalists. — Republicans. — Defeat of the Federalists. — Difficulty of creating parties in the United States. — What people try in order to do so. — Aristocratic or democratic characteristics found in all parties. — General Jackson’s battle with the bank.
I MUST begin by making an important distinction among parties.
Some countries are so vast that even though the various populations that live in them are united under a single sovereignty, they have contradictory interests, which give rise to permanent tensions. Under such circumstances, these diverse populations constitute not parties in the strict sense but rather distinct nations. If civil war should break out, the conflict will be one between rival peoples rather than factions.
But when citizens differ about matters that interest all portions of the country equally, such as the general principles of government, then what may truly be called parties come into being.
Parties are an evil inherent in free governments, but their character and instincts are not always the same.
There are times when nations feel tormented by such great evils that a total change of political constitution begins to seem feasible. And there are times when the malaise strikes even deeper, and the social state itself is compromised. In such times great revolutions occur, and great parties arise.
Between these centuries of disorder and woe, there are other times when societies take their rest, and the human race seems to pause for breath. In fact, such interludes are more apparent than real. Time no more stops for nations than it does for individuals. Both advance daily toward a future of which they know nothing. If they seem to stand still, it is because their progress eludes us. To a runner, a person who is merely walking may seem to be standing still.
In any case, the changes affecting the political constitutions and social states of nations may at times be so slow and difficult to perceive that it becomes plausible to believe that an end has been achieved. The human spirit, convinced that the ground on which it stands is solid, sets itself a certain horizon and does not look beyond it.
Such times are ripe for intrigue and minor parties.
The political parties that I call great are those that dedicate themselves more to principles than to their consequences; to generalities and not particulars; to ideas and not to men. Such parties generally have nobler features, more generous passions, more genuine convictions, and a franker, bolder manner than others. Private interest, which always plays the greatest role in political passions, is here more skillfully hidden beneath the veil of public interest. At times it even succeeds in concealing itself from those whom it animates and impels to act.
By contrast, minor parties are generally without political faith. Because they do not feel ennobled and sustained by any great purpose, their character bears the stamp of self-interest, which clearly manifests itself in every action they undertake. They always become hotly passionate for coldly calculated reasons; their language is violent, but their course is timid and uncertain. Their tactics are squalid, as is the goal they set for themselves. Hence when a period of calm succeeds a violent revolution, great men seem suddenly to vanish, and souls turn inward.
Great parties stand society on its head; minor parties agitate it. Great parties tear society apart; minor parties corrupt it. The former may at times save society at the cost of disrupting it, while the latter invariably provoke agitation without profit.
America has had great parties in the past, but today they no longer exist. This change has contributed greatly to its happiness but not to its morality.
When the War of Independence ended and the time came to lay the foundation of a new government, the nation found itself divided into two camps. The views of both camps were as old as the world, and in one form or another one finds them under various names in all free societies. One camp wished to restrain the power of the people, the other to extend it without limit.
In America, the struggle between these two camps never took the violent form that has often distinguished it in other countries. Both parties were in agreement about the most essential points. Neither had to destroy an ancient order or overturn an entire society in order to prevail. Hence the lives and livelihoods of thousands of individuals did not depend on the triumph of one set of principles rather than another. But those principles did affect immaterial interests of the utmost importance, such as the love of equality and independence. This was enough to arouse violent passions.
The party that wanted to limit the power of the people sought above all to apply its doctrines to the Constitution of the Union, which earned it the name federal.
The other party, which posed as the only party to love liberty, claimed the title republican.
America is the land of democracy. The Federalists were therefore always in the minority, but their ranks included nearly all the great men to come out of the War of Independence, and their moral power was considerable. Circumstances favored them, moreover. The collapse of the first confederation had made people afraid that the country might lapse into anarchy, and the Federalists took advantage of this temporary state of affairs. For ten or twelve years, they controlled the business of government and were able to put some of their principles into practice. Not all of them, however, because with each passing day the opposition became more violent, so much so that no one dared to stand against it.
In 1801, the Republicans finally took control of the government. Thomas Jefferson was elected president. He brought his party the benefit of his famous name, great talents, and immense popularity.
The Federalists had always relied on artificial means and temporary resources to maintain themselves in power. Had it not been for the virtues and talents of their leaders and the fortune of circumstance, they would never have come to office at all. When the Republicans’ turn finally came, it was as if the opposition party was engulfed by a sudden flood. The vast majority of the people voted against it, and Federalists found themselves in so small a minority that they lost faith in themselves. From that moment on, the Republican, or Democratic, party marched from conquest to conquest and eventually took complete control of society.
Feeling defeated, devoid of resources, and isolated in the nation’s midst, the Federalists divided. Some joined the victors, while others furled their banner and changed their name. By now they have long since ceased to exist as a party.
The Federalist accession to power was in my view one of the most fortunate events attending the birth of the great American Union. The Federalists fought against the irresistible penchant of their century and their country. Their theories, whether sound or flawed, suffered from being inapplicable in their entirety to the society they wished to govern; what came to pass under Jefferson would therefore have come to pass sooner or later in any case. But at least their government left the new republic time to establish itself and later enabled it to survive the rapid evolution of doctrines the Federalists themselves had opposed. Indeed, many of their principles ultimately became part of their adversaries’ creed. And the federal Constitution, which still exists today, is a lasting monument to their patriotism and wisdom.
So it is, then, that one sees no great political parties in the United States today. There are any number of parties that pose a threat to the future of the Union, but none that seem to be attacking the present form of the government or the general course of society. The parties that threaten the Union are based not on principles but on material interests. In the various provinces of such a vast empire, those interests constitute not so much parties as rival nations. In the recent past, for example, the North supported a system of restrictions on commerce, and the South took up arms in favor of freedom of trade, solely because the North is a manufacturing region and the South an agricultural one and the restrictions profit one at the expense of the other.
Though lacking great parties, the United States is teeming with minor ones, and public opinion is endlessly divided over insignificant issues. The effort expended on creating political parties — not an easy thing to do nowadays — can scarcely be imagined. Religious hatred does not exist in the United States, because religion is universally respected and no sect is dominant. Class hatred does not exist, because the people are everything, and no one yet dares to oppose them. Finally, there is no public misery to exploit, because the material condition of the country is so favorable to industry that it suffices to leave man to his own devices to enable him to achieve wonders. Yet ambition inevitably leads to the creation of parties, because it is difficult to throw a man out of power simply because one wants to take his place. All the skill of the politician therefore goes into organizing parties. In the United States, a politician first tries to identify his own interests and find out what similar interests might be joined with his. He then casts about to discover whether there might not by chance exist some doctrine or principle around which this new association might be organized, so that it may present itself to the world and gain ready acceptance. This might be compared to the royal imprimatur that our forefathers used to print on the first page of their works and incorporate into the book even though it was not part of its contents.
That done, the new force can be introduced into the world of politics.
To a foreigner, nearly all the domestic quarrels of the Americans seem at first glance either incomprehensible or puerile, and one is hard put to decide whether one ought to pity a people that takes such wretched trifles seriously or envy it the good fortune that permits it to do so.
But when one begins to study closely the secret instincts that govern factions in America, it is easy to see that most of them can be more or less accurately described as belonging to one of the two great parties that have always existed in free societies. The more deeply one enters into the intimate thoughts of these two parties, the clearer it becomes that one wants to limit the use of public power and the other to extend it.
I am not saying that the overt or covert aim of parties in America is always to see to it that either aristocracy or democracy prevails. I do say that in every political party aristocratic or democratic passions play a central role, and while these may not be visible to the casual observer, they do constitute the party’s heart and soul.
I shall cite a recent example: the president launches an attack on the Bank of the United States. The country is aroused, and people take sides. In general, the enlightened classes take the side of the bank, while the people favor the president. Do you suppose that the people are capable of explaining the grounds for their opinion on such a difficult question, whose fine points even experienced men find daunting? Not at all. But the bank is an important institution that enjoys an independent existence. The people, who can demolish or exalt whatever power they choose, can do nothing about it, and this astonishes them. In a society where everything is in flux, this immovable object is offensive to their eyes, and they want to see if they can oblige it to change along with everything else.
VESTIGES OF THE ARISTOCRATIC PARTY IN THE UNITED STATES
Hidden opposition of the rich to democracy. — They withdraw into private life. — In the privacy of their homes they reveal their taste for exclusive pleasures and luxury. — Their simplicity outside the home. — Their affected condescension toward the people.
When the balance of power among the parties is upset in a nation where opinion is divided, one party may emerge with an irresistible preponderance over the others. It smashes every obstacle, crushes its adversaries, and exploits the whole of society for its own benefit. The losers, despairing of success, withdraw into hiding or lapse into silence. Stillness and silence reign everywhere. The entire nation seems united in a single thought. The victorious party then steps forward and says, “I have restored peace to the country, and I deserve thanks.”
But under this apparent unanimity lurk deep divisions and a genuine opposition.
This is what happened in America: when the democratic party gained the upper hand, it took exclusive control of affairs. Since then, it has persistently molded mores and laws to its desires.
Today it is fair to say that the wealthy classes in the United States are almost entirely out of politics, and that wealth, far from being a privilege there, is a real cause of disfavor and an obstacle to attaining power.
The rich would therefore rather give up the fight than engage in often unequal battle with the poorest of their fellow citizens. Unable to assume a position in public life comparable to that which they occupy in private life, they abandon the former and concentrate on the latter. Within the state they form a society apart, with its own distinctive tastes and pleasures.
The rich resign themselves to this state of affairs as to an incurable ill. They take great care not to give so much as a hint that it wounds them. In public one hears them extol the blessings of republican government and the advantages of democratic institutions. For after hating one’s enemies, what is more natural than flattering them?
Do you see this opulent citizen? Does he not resemble a Jew of the Middle Ages, afraid lest anyone suspect his riches? His dress is simple, his demeanor modest. Within the four walls of his home, luxury is adored. Into this sanctuary he allows only a few select guests, whom he insolently calls his equals. There is not a nobleman anywhere in Europe who is more exclusive in his pleasures than this man or more jealous of the least advantages conferred by a privileged position. Yet this same man leaves home to go work in a dusty hole in the business district downtown, where anyone is free to call on him. On the way there he passes his shoemaker, and the two men stop and begin to converse. What can they be saying to each other? These two citizens are discussing affairs of state, and they will not part without shaking hands.
But beneath this conventional enthusiasm, beyond this obsequious politeness toward the dominant power, it is easy to see that the rich feel a deep disgust with their country’s democratic institutions. The people are a power they fear and despise. If democratic misrule someday leads to a political crisis, or if monarchy were ever to appear as a practical possibility in the United States, the truth of what I am saying will soon become apparent.
Political parties in pursuit of success can avail themselves of two primary weapons: newspapers and associations.