Democracy, Disagreement and the Authoritarian Temptation

A troubling paradox now exists in many Western democracies. Never before has there been so much talk about diversity, pluralism, tolerance and freedom. Yet perhaps never has such a large part of the population felt so reluctant to express itself, convinced that it is no longer listened to, or even morally discredited when expressing a point of view outside mainstream discourse. That is probably where the problem begins.

Democracy is not only about elections. It is also based on a rule much more difficult to respect: accepting that others can think differently without being considered illegitimate. But something has gradually deteriorated. Part of the public debate seems to have replaced the confrontation of ideas with a moral confrontation. It is no longer enough to tell an opponent, “You are wrong.” He may instead be told that he is bad, backward, ignorant or unworthy of being heard.

It is this evolution that is referred to, perhaps awkwardly, by the French expression bien-pensance. The problem is obviously not the defense of equality, the fight against discrimination, inclusion or minority rights. These are perfectly legitimate principles in a liberal democracy. The danger arises when these values cease to be open to debate in the way they are implemented and become moral truths to which everyone is expected to adhere. Because a democracy in which certain opinions become socially impossible to express, even when they remain perfectly legal, is already beginning to undermine its own pluralism.

The feeling of no longer being represented

Alongside this crisis of debate, another divide has emerged: a growing distance between certain elites and parts of the population. Political, media, economic and academic elites have become increasingly internationalized. They often attended similar institutions, share common cultural references and sometimes hold a relatively uniform perception of globalization, economics and society. There is nothing inherently wrong with that.

However, when ruling elites fail to understand the concerns of those who do not live in major cities or move within the same social circles, a political problem arises. This feeling can be found behind very different events: the Yellow Vests in France, Brexit in the United Kingdom, Donald Trump’s electoral victories in the United States, or the rise of populist parties across Europe.

The common denominator is not necessarily an ideology. It is often a much simpler sentence: “You are no longer listening to us.”

When part of the population believes that traditional institutions, political parties, the media or experts no longer speak for them, they naturally look elsewhere: sometimes toward populism, sometimes nationalism, sometimes toward a leader who promises to bypass institutions rather than reform them. This is where democracy enters a dangerous zone.

The strong man as a response to powerlessness

Authoritarianism does not necessarily begin with a rejection of democracy. Paradoxically, it can begin with a demand for more democracy: “Give us back our voice.” “Take back control.” “Enforce the will of the people.” “Stop letting judges, technocrats or experts decide for us.”

These demands may reflect genuine democratic frustrations. But they can also open a dangerous door. When a leader claims to embody the people directly, checks and balances gradually become suspect. Does Parliament prevent him from acting? Parliament is described as disconnected. Does the judiciary block a decision? Judges are accused of being political. Does the media criticize the government? Journalists become “enemies of the people.” Do experts challenge a policy? They are dismissed as part of “the system.”

Democracy can then slowly move from legitimate criticism of institutions to questioning their very legitimacy. Plato had already identified this paradox more than two thousand years ago: when a society believes that freedom produces too much disorder, it may eventually demand more authority.

But this does not mean that authoritarianism is an inevitable historical phase. It means that it becomes increasingly tempting when democracy no longer performs its function of representation properly.

The great misunderstanding of the elites

It would therefore be a mistake to systematically regard populist voters as enemies of democracy. Many probably do not want less democracy. They want to be heard more within it.

But the opposite error would be equally dangerous: believing that a more authoritarian government automatically represents a healthy correction of the system’s excesses. History often demonstrates the opposite. It is much easier to concentrate power than to give it back.

A leader elected to “put things in order” can gradually weaken the institutions that limit his authority. A state of emergency can become permanent. A temporary restriction can become a new norm. Authoritarianism develops its own dynamic, and once countervailing powers have been weakened, nothing guarantees a return to equilibrium.

That is why presenting authoritarianism as a “necessary phase” would probably be a mistake. It is better understood as a symptom of a democracy that no longer sufficiently absorbs its own contradictions.

Democracy must relearn disagreement

The key question, therefore, is not whether to choose between today’s democracy and authoritarianism. It is how to repair democracy before authoritarianism begins to appear credible.

The first emergency is cultural. We must relearn that disagreeing with someone does not mean excluding them. A genuinely pluralist democracy must be capable of accommodating progressives, conservatives, liberals, religious people, secularists, globalists and sovereigntists, provided that everyone respects democratic rules.

The second emergency concerns the elites themselves. They must learn to listen again before explaining. A population that votes “badly,” according to elite criteria, should not automatically be suspected of ignorance. We must first understand what it is trying to say. Behind an angry vote may lie perfectly rational political demands: greater security, greater recognition, and greater control over decisions affecting everyday life.

Finally, democracy must recover what is probably its greatest strength: its capacity for correction. A dictatorship can be extremely effective at imposing a decision. A democracy is much more effective at recognizing that it was wrong — provided that it still agrees to listen.

The real danger

The danger threatening some democracies today is not only the possible arrival of a strong man. It begins much earlier. It begins when each side believes that the opposing camp no longer has the right to govern; when disagreement becomes a moral fault; when institutions cease to be perceived as belonging to everyone; when elites no longer understand their populations and populations no longer trust their elites.

At that point, authoritarianism may begin to appear not as a threat, but as a solution. That is precisely the paradox.

Democracies do not always die because people stop loving freedom. They can also weaken because part of the population eventually concludes that democracy no longer listens to them.

The real challenge, therefore, is not to protect democracy from the people. It is to ensure that the people still feel that democracy belongs to them.