What would it be like if we really lived in a democracy? Ancient
Athens was a citizen-state. Of that number some 30,000-40,000, or about ten
percent, were citizens. Only adult males over the age of eighteen years who
served in the military qualified for citizenship. Women were denied political
rights as were slaves, about 20,000 of them, and metics, or foreigners.
Nevertheless, it was self-governing which is to say the citizens themselves ran
the government on a day-to-day basis. The citizens—not their representatives—
gathered in the Assembly at least once a month and more frequently as required.
There, citizens debated and voted on the issues that affected their community
and their nation as a whole. By a show of hands and sometimes by casting a
black (no) or white (yes) ball into a clay jar, they voted to go to war or not,
to receive ambassadors or not, to grant a certain individual citizenship or
not. Athenians voted on which projects to fund and which not to fund. They
voted on laws regulating the exportation of grain, which was in short supply.
They decided how much should be charged for leasing a temple’s land. They
decided how many and who should be the envoys representing Athens in foreign
lands. The week-by-week conduct of a war had to go before the Assembly week by
week. The Ekklesia (Assembly) met at the Pnyx, an amphitheater located about
one half mile outside of Athens, itself. At the front end of the Pnyx was the
bema, or stepping stone, where a citizen would rise to address the Assembly. As
many as six thousand would be in attendance on a given day. The presiding
officer would begin each session with the question, “Who wishes to speak?” Any
one in attendance had the right to address the assembly.
The bema was the material embodiment of “equal speech” —
isēgoría —i.e. the equal right of every Athenian citizen to debate matters of
policy. Note the difference between “equal speech,” or “political speech,” the
right to debate and legislate, and what today we call “free speech,” the
prohibition against being denied the right to speak. We could be speaking on a
street corner or marching in a protest. “Free speech” says we have the right to
do that. It says the right cannot be taken away. “Free speech” has no
particular context. We are granted the right to say what we want, provided, it
turns out, we do not threaten the governing powers. “Free speech” is a civil
right. It is not a political right. It does not give us the right to set
national policy. “Equal speech” in ancient Athens did. Haranguing some passerby
to vote for a certain candidate is not political speech nor is voting in an
election. “What about writing a letter to my congressman? Isn’t that political
speech?” No. It is complaining or pleading. Most of the time it changes
nothing. It has no real power. It is not constitutive. It does not have the
power to bring something into existence. Only political speech does.
In 1789, the year the Constitution was ratified, the United
States had a population in excess of 3,000,000. As was the case in ancient
Athens, women and slaves, about 200,000 were denied political rights. In the
House of Representatives, made up of sixty-five members, thirty-three individuals
would constitute a quorum. Of these, seventeen would constitute a majority, the
sense of the House. There were twenty-six members of the Senate, two for each
state, of which fourteen would constitute a quorum, eight of whom would make a
majority, or the sense of the Senate. Seventeen in the House plus eight in the
Senate equals twenty-five. Thus it appears that the liberties, happiness,
interests, and great concerns of the whole United States were dependent upon
the integrity, virtue, wisdom, and knowledge of 25 or 26 men. If one rounds off
the numbers and does a comparison, ancient Athens with a population of 300,000,
was governed by 30,000 men. The United States in 1790 with a population ten
times that of ancient Athens or 3,000,000 was governed by 91 men. 30,000 vs. 91
describes the difference, numerically speaking, between a democracy and an
oligarchy.
In the year 2015, combining the Senate and the House, there
is a governing body comprised of 535 men and women for a country with a
population in excess of 300,000, 000, or 10,000 times that of ancient Athens.
Thus there is roughly one voice for every 600, 000 Americans, hardly what one
would call a democracy. The 435 men and women who sit on the floor of the House
of Representatives have the right to speak. They can debate and legislate, set
policy. 623 of us sit in the gallery observing and listening to what takes
place on the floor. We cannot speak. We can only listen and observe. We are
politically powerless. We lack political speech. We are “speechless.”
In ancient Athens there was a monthly inspection of those
magistrates who were entrusted with public funds. Also, on a monthly basis, the
assembly would call a vote on the magistrates. At this time any government
official could receive a vote of no confidence and be dismissed. Such
accusations were not uncommon. Wouldn’t it be nice if we in the 21st century
had that same power?
In ancient Athens, in the 5th century, B.C.E., there was no
written constitution. There were no written laws. There was no codification of
the laws. The ekklesia in session was the government. It evolved organically
over the generations in response to changing conditions and the emotional and
intellectual makeup of those who attended. In the United States we have a
written Constitution. Fifty-five men — landed aristocrats, speculators,
merchants, attorneys — now dead for more than two hundred years, determine the
government we live under. In ancient Athens the living governed themselves.
In addition to participating in the debates occurring in the
Assembly, the Athenian citizen might serve on the Council of five hundred (the
boule). The boule was responsible for drafting preparatory legislation for
consideration by the Assembly, overseeing the meetings of the Assembly, and in
certain cases executing legislation as directed by the Assembly. The members of
the boule were selected by a lottery held each year among male citizens over
thirty years of age. Fifty men would be chosen from each of the ten Athenian
tribes, with service limited to twice in a lifetime. There were ten months in
the Athenian calendar, and one of the ten tribes was in ascendancy each month. The
fifty citizen councilors (prytanies) of the dominant tribe each month served in
an executive function over the boule and the ekklesia. From that group of
fifty, one individual (the epistates) would be selected each day to preside
over the boule and, if it met in session that day, the ekklesia. The epistates
held the keys to the treasury and the seal to the city, and he welcomed foreign
ambassadors. It has been calculated that one-quarter of all citizens must at
one time in their lives have held the post, which could be held only once in a
lifetime. Meetings of the boule might occur on as many as 260 days in the
course of a year.
Suppose we wanted to set up a democracy in the United
States. It would be easy enough to do so by simply multiplying sufficiently the
number of assemblies. How does the number 18,000 sound? Sounds like a lot? That
is the number of school districts in the United States. Each school district
could have an assembly that debated and voted on national legislation and
policy. Votes could be tabulated on a national basis and thus would the
citizens govern themselves. Extrapolating somewhat to the larger scale, we
could have a boule of 2,000 selected by lot from around the country. This
council of 2,000 would set the agenda for the various local assemblies. Let us
imagine that the assemblies meet forty times a year as they did in Athens and
that they are sitting three or four days a week. Let us imagine that some
meetings are held in the evenings and over the weekends. Maybe 500 citizens
would attend a given assembly, with different citizens in attendance from one
session to the next based on interest and availability. If you do the
arithmetic you will learn that on a given day 9,000,000 Americans are actively
involved in governing themselves, determining how monies should be spent,
whether or not to wage war or peace. That is democracy at work.
The third element of the Athenian Democracy — the Ekklesia
and the boule are the first two — was the system of jury courts known as the
dikasteria. Jurors were selected by lot from an annual pool of 6,000 citizens
(600 from each of the ten tribes) over the age of thirty. There were both
private suits and public suits. For private suits the minimum jury size was
201; it was increased to 401 if a sum of more than 1,000 drachmas was at issue.
For public suits there was a jury of 501. On occasion a jury of 1,001 or 1,501
would be selected. Rarely, the entire pool of 6,000 would be put on a case. No
Athenian juror was ever subjected to compulsory empanelment, voir dire, or
sequestration, nor was any magistrate empowered to decide what evidence the
jury could or could not be allowed to see. It was forbidden by law to pay anyone
to represent you in court. Jurors could not be penalized for their vote—unless
it could be shown that they had accepted bribes. But the practice of selecting
juries randomly on the morning of the trial and the sheer size of the juries
served to limit the effectiveness of bribery. The Athenian court system did not
operate according to precedent. No jury was bound by the decisions of previous
juries in previous cases. This is a striking difference between Athenian law
and more familiar systems such as Roman law or English common law. The Athenian
system of justice was consistent with the prevailing opposition to elitism and
the oppressive effects of received wisdom in matters of justice. Each citizen
used his own common sense to make judgments based on personal belief and
prevailing mores. Private cases were put forward by the litigants themselves,
and single speeches on each side were timed by water clock. In a public suit
the litigants each had three hours to speak. Much less time was allotted in
private suits, the time proportional to the amount of money at stake. Justice
was rapid, because a case could last no longer than one day. There were no
lawyers. There were no judges, only juries of the litigants’ peers. This was
amateur justice—perhaps the best kind.
There were about eleven hundred magistrates or
administrators in Athens whose job it was to oversee the day-to-day
responsibilities of a complex communal life. There was water supply and grain
supply to attend to. There were building projects. There were issues of trade.
There were religious festivals to organize and oversee. Of these eleven hundred
administrators, all but one hundred were chosen by allotment. An individual
would put his name forward to hold a certain office in the year prior to his
desired tenure. He had to be at least thirty years of age, or in some cases
forty. His name was chosen at random from the pool of nominees, and he held
office for a year. Generals and those in charge of large sums of money were
elected. It was assumed that magistrates had no special expertise. The lack of
expertise was mitigated by the fact that magistrates served as part of a panel
overseeing a certain function, and that what one lacked in knowledge another
might have. A magistrate could hold his position only once in a lifetime,
another way of minimizing the amount of harm any individual could cause. As a
further precaution, all magistrates were subject to a review beforehand that
might disqualify them for office. Any citizen could challenge a magistrate for
his conduct, leading to a trial that could result in his being removed from
office and possibly penalized. Thus, accountability to the citizenry was built
into the system at the most fundamental level.
Ancient Athens was not a perfect government, but it was a
functioning political democracy. The people governed themselves. They stood on
equal footing in meetings of the Assembly, as participants in the Council, as
jurors, and as magistrates. There were no representatives. There was no
monarch. There were no oligarchs. They debated on equal footing the issues of
the day, passed laws, ran the city on a day-to-day basis, filled the juries,
and held all magistrates and even generals accountable for their conduct.
This sounds like neo feudalism - every little town gets to go it's own way.
ReplyDeleteI'm not with that
I prefer representative democracy- "direct democracy" sounds like making people go to lots and lots of meetings...while the REAL decisions are made behind closed doors, like they always have and always will be
Better to acknowledge the fact that we have leaders and they make the decisions - but just let us elect the leaders, and recall them
also, America's weak decentralized federal model of government is a legacy of slavery and the Indian genocide and we need to move away from it
America has 18,000 school districts so they can segregate the Black and Latino kids - we need to reduce that to 51 statewide school districts, tightly supervised by the federal Department of Education
Those 18,000 school districts are in 18,000 towns with 18,000 city councils and 18,000 police departments, most of them chock full of racism, corruption, homophobia, Christian fundamentalism and small town narrow mindedness
Imagine 18,000 Ferguson, Missouris
We should have a centralized government with power concentrated in Washington - kind of like what France has
In this age of melting ice caps and superstorms, we need greater concentration of power, not neo feudalism