By Kevin D. Williamson
Sunday, December 16, 2018
In the run-up to the 2016 presidential election, Donald
Trump was asked on many occasions whether he would “accept the results” of the
election if he were to lose. Democrats and their media allies demanded that he
make a solemn vow to “accept the results.” It was never entirely clear what
anybody thought the alternative to acceptance was: Donald Trump’s raising a
revolutionary army and marching on Washington like Francisco Franco breaking
the Siege of the Alcázar?
Better that question should have been put to Theresa May.
The people of the United Kingdom, having been consulted
on the matter, voted to leave the European Union. That vote happened on June
23, 2016. Here at the end of 2018, it remains unclear whether the U.K.
government and the European Union will actually accept the results of that
election. The editorial board of the New
York Times complains that the current debate over the particulars of the
British departure from the EU “largely exclude any thought of European Union
interests.” It takes a special cast of mind to miss that that is precisely the
point.
The British people voted to leave the European Union
because many of them felt that they had lost control over their country, that
key decisions important to their own lives and to the common life of the
British people were being made by unaccountable men far away in Brussels. The
existence of a European Parliament did little to assuage those anxieties,
because the European Parliament is a parliament that barely deserves the name:
The real power rests in the European Commission, the Council of the European
Union, and — above all — the European bureaucracy based in Brussels.
Since the Brexit vote, the people of the United Kingdom
have been informed by their government that they may not have their own way and
get what they voted for because giving it to them is too complicated. Which —
again — is precisely the point. The difficulty of leaving the European Union
highlights the necessity of doing so if the people of the United Kingdom are to
remain the masters of their own lives. The British fought hard and sacrificed
much for the principle that Parliament is sovereign — that even the king must
answer to the people through their representatives — and the self-satisfied
gentlemen in Brussels made a smug show out of pissing on that principle from a
great height.
The British indictment of the European Union will sound
entirely familiar to American ears: It represents the wresting of power from
the people by unaccountable elites, it holds in contempt the concept of
national sovereignty, it is associated with excessive and disorderly
immigration, it pursues economic policies that serve the interests of the high
and mighty rather than the common people, etc.
In the United States, the Left and the Right talk about
those issues in different ways, and they emphasize different complaints: The
Democrats suddenly changed their tone on immigration when they realized that
Bernie Sanders in 2016 sounded quite like Donald Trump, which was not pleasing
to several important Democratic constituencies, while Republicans have
developed a little bit of double vision on the question of how they feel about
rich guys and Big Business: Cheers for Peter Thiel, jeers for Mark Zuckerberg,
three cheers for Exxon, nuts to Google.
But the populist Left and the populist Right in the
United States — which, increasingly, means simply the Left and the Right in the
United States — begin with fundamental complaints that are functionally
identical: Wage growth for middle-income Americans has been disappointing, and
they have very little security in their jobs, which surely is the result of
collusion between American bigwigs and dirty foreigners somewhere, particularly
in China. Jake Werner of the University of Chicago noted this curious
bipartisanship in Foreign Policy:
“Senator Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) echoes President Donald Trump’s talking points,
decrying the transfer of ‘our’ technology to China and condemning investment
there. Fellow progressive Senator Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.) is lining up with
former White House Chief Strategist Steve Bannon calling for an ‘aggressive’
policy. Establishment Democrats like Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer are
endorsing Trump’s trade war with China.”
These complaints are not limited to government and public
policy. If anything, both Left and Right have developed a newly intense
resentment of the way in which purely private actors can exercise tremendous
influence over their lives: corporate mergers and restructurings take away jobs
and upend the economic situation of communities dependent on them; Facebook and
Twitter endeavor to silence unpopular political views, or else are used as
vehicles for ochlocratic attacks on hapless Starbucks staffers and Chipotle
managers; in 2008–09, the world economy was convulsed by the fact that a great
many Wall Street firms made bad investments that they did not quite even
understand, necessitating trillions of dollars in bailouts and “quantitative
easing” to stave off economic disaster. It is easier for a man to walk away
from his wife and children than from his credit-card debt or student loans.
Nobody seems to really know what his health insurance will cover — or what it
will cover the day after tomorrow. A third of the teachers participating in a
grant program found themselves saddled with loans — loans they had never signed
up for, sometimes amounting to tens of thousands of dollars —because of
paperwork issues. Innocent men and women are wrongly prosecuted and end up
financially ruined even when they escape jail, and even as prosecutors boldly
boast about abusing their powers.
The burden of these developments always seems to fall on
those who do not have much money or power. You miss filing a 1040EZ one year
and you’ll get your bank account hijacked by the IRS; Lois Lerner hijacks the
entire IRS for a political project and she ends up with pension that’s twice
what most American households earn in a year. Corporate executives flit from one
gilt perch to the next, politicians flout both law and morality without real
consequence, and their cronies and minions rarely miss a paycheck. Meanwhile,
the New York Times is full of
advertisements for Rolex and Cartier, Tiffany and Zegna — and stories about how
nobody can really be expected to get by on $200,000 a year.
In Francis Fukuyama’s magisterial Origins of Political Order, he specifies three things that
undergird the development of political development: the state, the rule of law,
and accountability. The first we have plenty of — more of than we need, really.
The other two . . . less so. Irrespective of how you feel about the current
legal efforts being made against President Trump, it is impossible for any
intelligent person to look at the situation and conclude that anybody — anybody
— involved in this mess is simply working to apply the law rather than
conducting a political jihad or counter-jihad through legal means — lawfare, as
they call it. The rule of law took a beating during the Obama administration,
and the chaos of the Trump administration does not seem likely to contribute
much to its recuperation.
But it is accountability that is foremost in the minds of
the disaffected and despairing. The British want to know that if they are unhappy
with this law or that regulation, they can vote against their local MP — or at
least go give him the polite British business — if he doesn’t get on board. A
perplexing European apparatus headquartered in a faraway country? It is
difficult to get accountability out of such a beast. The same lack of
directness and comprehensibility has sustained the drive against our own
multilateral commitments, including good ones such as NAFTA and the
Trans-Pacific Partnership.
A few years ago, I was in Switzerland writing a piece in
which I argued that the Confoederatio Helvetica is the world’s best-governed
country. You may not agree, but it is a country with a remarkable level of
accountability — accountability that is held close to the Swiss people. Around
the time I was visiting, Tina Turner, a longtime resident of the country, was
in the final stages of becoming a Swiss national. Because of the eccentricities
of Switzerland’s democratic and radically local governance, the famous singer
had to trundle down to the Swiss version of her local city council meeting and
prove to them that she could speak German well enough to function as a Swiss
citizen and resident of the Canton of Zurich, that she had sufficient financial
resources to avoid being a public ward, and that she was an all-around good
egg. The local government, not only the national government in Bern, has a say
in that. Imagine a United States in which, say, the City of Minneapolis or the
representatives of Presidio County, Texas, had a real say over immigration
decisions.
It would look different. Maybe you think that would be an
improvement and maybe you don’t, but it almost certainly would be more
representative of what people actually want — or, at least, the decisions would
be made at a level that is more readily subject to the exercise of democratic
accountability.
As things stand, our immigration regime gives the
distinct impression that nobody is in charge — and that nobody is accountable.
The president wants one thing (or a basket of inconsistent and contradictory things),
Congress another — and its basket of inconsistent and contradictory things is
divided between the parties and subdivided among the factions within those
parties, while the bureaucracy goes, as it generally does, its own way. If the
desire to have somebody in charge and accountable presses downward, you get
Switzerland — or you get American-style federalism, localism, and subsidiarity.
If the desire to have somebody in charge and accountable presses upward, you
get caudillo politics.
The United States, with its mass and diversity and
complexity, is never going to be very much like Switzerland, with its
neutrality and its localized democracy and its
friendly-but-no-more-than-friendly relations with the rest of Europe and the
rest of the world. And though there are partisans of caudillo-ism in the United
States — in both parties — that is not a very likely outcome, either. We are
too dynamic and unruly for that.
One model of working toward real accountability would be
pressing not only political decision-making but also political administration down to the state and
local level as much as possible. In the Nordic welfare states that our
progressives admire, many social programs are administered at the local rather
than national level — in Sweden, for example, health care is managed at the
county level, not the national level. That means that people can see for
themselves how social services are managed, delivered, and consumed. The United
States, on the other hand, has been pursuing a program of centralization —
pushed by progressives — for about a century. Some on the Left have started to
see the light on this issue: Faced with a Trump administration, there are many
in California who have developed a sudden appreciation for the virtues of
federalism. They want to let California be California. If only we could
convince them to let Texas be Texas, too.
If we do not find a way toward more robust
accountability, the most likely outcome is not strongman rule: It is chaos, with desultory, emotive, largely
symbolic populist episodes producing counterproductive interventions here and
there in disorderly and contradictory fashion — and probably vindictive
fashion—in a way that in effect cedes an ever-larger share of real power to the
bureaucracies, which are the institutions least likely to provide real
accountability.
And it is very difficult to take back power from a
bureaucracy set on keeping it. Pass all the laws you like, win every election,
and you still may not get what you want. Ask the British.
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