Blind obedience to the law is the dictator's friend


          The   government of 18th century England has been   described 
          as "aristocracy   tempered  by rioting."   There is something
          of   that   in any society no matter what its  politics,  for 
          all  who  exercise  power become corrupted  to  a  lesser  or
          greater degree by the identification of their interest   with 
          the common good.    Even in a place as politically placid  as
          modern  Britain  rioting has played its part  in  fundamental
          change,  the  last time being in  1990  when    the  Thatcher
          Government was finally frightened into  dropping  a  flagship
          tax - the Community Charge,  popularly known as  the Poll Tax
          -  by a serious riot in Trafalgar Square in central London. 

          That is the reality of politics. The theory, as ever,  is  at
          odds with what actually happens and that which  is reasonable
          and practical.  "The law must be obeyed"  and "Violence    is 
          always wrong"  are two of the most chanted  modern  political
          mantras,  at  least  in  the West.      Not   bad  chants  as
          political  dicta  go,   for the law is the skeleton on  which
          society  rests and   violence   can all too  easily    become 
          an   endemic  social  disease.     Yet the    logic    of  an 
          absolute   bar    on   disobeying  the  law  or  engaging  in
          violence  for political  ends  is  that  an elite  may behave 
          as  badly as they want without fear of punishment.    

          Suppose   the  House of Commons passed a  law which  extended 
          the life of a Parliament to 50 years - this the Commons could
          do  quite legitimately,  because there is no   constitutional
          restraint  on Parliament.     Would  we simply  accept   such  
          a  gross  political  abuse  because  it  had   been  achieved
          legally,  that  it  was done within the  form  of  democratic
          procedure?    The sane answer has to be no.  But if we do not
          accept  it,  how  do we act against  those  who  abuse  power
          without provoking something approaching anarchy or  replacing
          one abuse of power with another? 

          The general answer to this can be found by  answering another 
          question,  namely what  is political disobedience (in which I
          include  everything from passive resistance to  full  blooded
          civil  war)  a  substitute for?    It  replaces  the   normal
          democratic political process. It   becomes  legitimate  where  
          a   society  is  so    ordered    that participation  in  the
          political   process    is    either  denied     overtly    or  
          covertly  or  when  the  behaviour   of   the   ruling  elite 
          constitutes  treason.      Political  disobedience   is   the
          civil or internecine  version  of  Clauswitz's "war being the
          continuation of politics by other means." 

          That  is all very well,  but how in practice do we  determine
          both when political disobedience is legitimate and the extent
          to which it  is legitimate in any particular situation? 

          If  political  disobedience  is not to be merely a  means  to
          gain  advantage  by  an individual or group,    it   must  be
          exercised within  a moral  context.   It is to be a means  to
          an end,  not an end in itself.   That end must have a   clear
          and  limited moral purpose if lawbreaking or  violence is  to
          have  any foreseeable  limit.  The end must be to  create  or
          restore  those structures which are necessary to a  free  and
          democratic society. 

          Proportionality 

          Political  disobedience   should  be  proportionate  to   the 
          political  circumstances   and  the ill  to be cured  and  as
          moderate  as  is  compatible  with  effect.   Faced  with  an
          unambiguous,  brutal and efficient  dictator,  the masses are
          left  with  little alternative but extreme violence  such  as
          assassination,  because other and lesser forms of protest are
          effectively denied. 

          That  is  not the case in societies which have at  least  the
          form  of representative democracies. In such societies  other
          forms  of  political  disobedience,   including   non-violent
          methods,  can be effective and   violence is inappropriate as
          anything but a final resort, when all else has failed and the
          damage being done by those in power is considerable. 

          In practice,  governments in states which have  both the form
          of  representative democracies and  some of the  content  are
          peculiarly vulnerable to even non-violent resistance provided
          it  is  truly widespread or arises from a strike in  a  vital
          industry. Such governments are bound by the pretence at least
          that  they are not dictatorships.  Thus  strong-arm  measures
          which are the common currency of the dictator cannot be  used
          with  impunity because they are publicly observed and  sooner
          or later elections must be held.    

          Generally,  the more broadly power is spread in  a  political
          system,    the  wider   the  range     of     extra-political  
          action.  

          When is it reasonable to disobey the law

          When  the law is made by made without  democratic  authority,
          when  the law is  not equally  applied,  when the  law  takes
          away a man's living,   when the law disadvantages one man but
          not  another,  when  the law amounts to  treason.   When,  in
          short,  the law is incompatible with a  free,  self-governing 
          society.

          What  are  the requirements for such a  society?   Above  all
          there  must  be free expression,  for a free society must  be
          democratic and a democratic society cannot outlaw any  aspect
          of life from debate and be called either free or  democratic.
          The  mass media must be both free of government  control  and
          open  to  all.  All adults must have the vote and  meaningful
          opportunity  to engage in mainstream political activity.  The
          state  must  not  use  force  against  its  people  which  is
          disproportionate nor have a monopoly of force.

          When is violence justified? 

          This  is  the  most difficult of questions.  In  an  outright 
          dictatorship the answer is morally unambiguous;  it is simply
          justified.    But there are,  of course,   many steps between
          elected  representative  government  and   outright  tyranny.
          Ultimately the judgement has to be personal,  but made within
          criteria which impose clear ends and restraints such as those
          discussed above. 

          There  is  one   instance  where  violence  is  unequivocally 
          justified in a formal democracy,  namely where the  political
          elite  as a class engages in behaviour which  is  objectively
          treasonable.  It is justified because such a matter becomes a
          question of self-defence. 

          Treason   is   a   slippery   word, yet  it  clearly  has  an
          objective  meaning.  In a dynastic context it is betrayal  of
          the sovereign.  In a democratic context it is the betrayal of
          the  population   to  an  external  power  for  the   general
          population has become the sovereign. 

          Of  what  does  treason consist? Generally  it  must  be  the         
          conscious  decision by those in power   to act in a way which 
          will  weaken  the  integrity  of  the  nation.   To give   up 
          sovereignty  is  by  definition to weaken the integrity of  a
          nation. 

          Proportionality of violence 

          Violence   should  be  minimised  for  moral  reasons,    but
          selective  violence  is also arguably   the  most  effective.
          Elites do not care about violence perpetrated  on  the masses
          unless  the violence  threatens  to  provoke  public   unrest 
          which the elite is not confident of  controlling.   What they 
          really   care  about is violence directed at the  elite.    A 
          good  example   of   this  mentality concerns  the  IRA   and 
          successive  British governments in the years 1969-1984.  

          The   IRA practice of public bombing continued for  15  years 
          after    1969   without   gaining   anything   from   British
          governments   of   any   political  colour.    The  IRA  then
          attempted  to  kill Margaret Thatcher and   members  of   her
          cabinet  in  the Brighton bombing of 1984  during  the   Tory 
          Party  conference.    Within   18   months   the  Anglo-Irish 
          Agreement,  which  granted a foreign power  legal  rights  in
          Northern Ireland,  had  been developed and signed by Margaret
          Thatcher and the Irish Prime Minister.  

          The   restriction   of  violence to those in  the  elite  has 
          another   great advantage,   the mass of the population  will
          not feel  threatened.   This means that they are less  likely
          to  become viscerally antagonistic to the perpetrator of  the
          violence.  Moreover,  if  the  ends  of  the  perpetrator  of
          violence are reasonable, then the mass of the population will
          probably  support  them  tacitly or at  least  not  violently
          oppose them. 

          Hence  for both moral and practical reasons  violence  should
          always  be  kept  to a minimum and  directed  at  the  elite,
          especially those who wield political power. 

          A lesson from the past 

          In  the twelfth century  there was developed the doctrine  of
          rightful tyranicide.  It has lessons for us.   The first  and
          probably  the   most  famous of its proponents  was  John  of
          Salisbury  ("He who usurps the sword is worthy to die by  the
          sword.")   John's  world is  seemingly far removed from  ours
          in  custom as well as years,  yet it has  striking  political
          similarities with our own, for the   power of European rulers
          was  very  far  from  absolute.  Mediaeval   monarchs    were
          commonly  confronted  with  parliaments  resisting  taxation,
          fractious  towns and ambitious  nobles.    In many  ways  the
          late Middle Ages was more democratic,  in the sense of  power
          being shared,  than any subsequent time before the nineteenth
          century.  The  consequence of this was a need to  define  the
          relationship  between ruler and ruled in a way which had  not
          been done since the ancient world struggled with the problem. 

          For  John the distinction was between power legitimately  and
          illegitimately exercised. In his work Policraticus he puts it
          thus:  

               "Between a tyrant and a prince there is this single
               or chief difference,  that the latter obeys the law
               and  rules the people by its  dictates,  accounting 
               himself  as but their servant. It is by  virtue  of
               the  law  that  he  makes good  his  claim  to  the
               foremost and chief  place in the management of  the
               affairs of the commonwealth." *

          In  our  world,   formal kingship with political power  is  a
          rarity,   yet  we  have   what  are,  practically,    elected 
          monarchs  in  our  presidents  and  prime  ministers  and  an
          abundant and  never ending supply of unelected tyrants.  Even
          in the  best of the  "liberal democracies"  power is   remote
          from   the  masses.   The question  which John  of  Salisbury
          addressed  in the thirteenth century is an eternal  question, 
          the  central problem of politics in fact,  namely how   shall
          those who wield power be  prevented from abusing the mass  of
          those  they  govern?  The only rational  answer  when  formal
          democratic methods fail is political disobedience. 

          *Policraticus Bk. IV. ch. i; Dickinson's trans.  p. 3.

          
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