Democracy in America — Volume 2 by Alexis de Tocqueville
Chapter V: Of The Use Which The Americans Make Of Public Associations In
1770 words | Chapter 27
Civil Life
I do not propose to speak of those political associations--by the aid of
which men endeavor to defend themselves against the despotic influence
of a majority--or against the aggressions of regal power. That subject I
have already treated. If each citizen did not learn, in proportion as
he individually becomes more feeble, and consequently more incapable
of preserving his freedom single-handed, to combine with his
fellow-citizens for the purpose of defending it, it is clear that
tyranny would unavoidably increase together with equality.
Those associations only which are formed in civil life, without
reference to political objects, are here adverted to. The political
associations which exist in the United States are only a single feature
in the midst of the immense assemblage of associations in that country.
Americans of all ages, all conditions, and all dispositions, constantly
form associations. They have not only commercial and manufacturing
companies, in which all take part, but associations of a thousand other
kinds--religious, moral, serious, futile, extensive, or restricted,
enormous or diminutive. The Americans make associations to give
entertainments, to found establishments for education, to build inns,
to construct churches, to diffuse books, to send missionaries to
the antipodes; and in this manner they found hospitals, prisons, and
schools. If it be proposed to advance some truth, or to foster some
feeling by the encouragement of a great example, they form a society.
Wherever, at the head of some new undertaking, you see the government
in France, or a man of rank in England, in the United States you will be
sure to find an association. I met with several kinds of associations in
America, of which I confess I had no previous notion; and I have often
admired the extreme skill with which the inhabitants of the United
States succeed in proposing a common object to the exertions of a great
many men, and in getting them voluntarily to pursue it. I have since
travelled over England, whence the Americans have taken some of their
laws and many of their customs; and it seemed to me that the principle
of association was by no means so constantly or so adroitly used in
that country. The English often perform great things singly; whereas the
Americans form associations for the smallest undertakings. It is evident
that the former people consider association as a powerful means of
action, but the latter seem to regard it as the only means they have of
acting.
Thus the most democratic country on the face of the earth is that in
which men have in our time carried to the highest perfection the art of
pursuing in common the object of their common desires, and have applied
this new science to the greatest number of purposes. Is this the result
of accident? or is there in reality any necessary connection between the
principle of association and that of equality? Aristocratic communities
always contain, amongst a multitude of persons who by themselves are
powerless, a small number of powerful and wealthy citizens, each of whom
can achieve great undertakings single-handed. In aristocratic societies
men do not need to combine in order to act, because they are strongly
held together. Every wealthy and powerful citizen constitutes the head
of a permanent and compulsory association, composed of all those who are
dependent upon him, or whom he makes subservient to the execution of his
designs. Amongst democratic nations, on the contrary, all the citizens
are independent and feeble; they can do hardly anything by themselves,
and none of them can oblige his fellow-men to lend him their assistance.
They all, therefore, fall into a state of incapacity, if they do not
learn voluntarily to help each other. If men living in democratic
countries had no right and no inclination to associate for political
purposes, their independence would be in great jeopardy; but they might
long preserve their wealth and their cultivation: whereas if they
never acquired the habit of forming associations in ordinary life,
civilization itself would be endangered. A people amongst which
individuals should lose the power of achieving great things
single-handed, without acquiring the means of producing them by united
exertions, would soon relapse into barbarism.
Unhappily, the same social condition which renders associations so
necessary to democratic nations, renders their formation more difficult
amongst those nations than amongst all others. When several members of
an aristocracy agree to combine, they easily succeed in doing so; as
each of them brings great strength to the partnership, the number of its
members may be very limited; and when the members of an association
are limited in number, they may easily become mutually acquainted,
understand each other, and establish fixed regulations. The same
opportunities do not occur amongst democratic nations, where the
associated members must always be very numerous for their association to
have any power.
I am aware that many of my countrymen are not in the least embarrassed
by this difficulty. They contend that the more enfeebled and incompetent
the citizens become, the more able and active the government ought to
be rendered, in order that society at large may execute what individuals
can no longer accomplish. They believe this answers the whole
difficulty, but I think they are mistaken. A government might perform
the part of some of the largest American companies; and several States,
members of the Union, have already attempted it; but what political
power could ever carry on the vast multitude of lesser undertakings
which the American citizens perform every day, with the assistance of
the principle of association? It is easy to foresee that the time is
drawing near when man will be less and less able to produce, of himself
alone, the commonest necessaries of life. The task of the governing
power will therefore perpetually increase, and its very efforts will
extend it every day. The more it stands in the place of associations,
the more will individuals, losing the notion of combining together,
require its assistance: these are causes and effects which unceasingly
engender each other. Will the administration of the country ultimately
assume the management of all the manufacturers, which no single
citizen is able to carry on? And if a time at length arrives, when, in
consequence of the extreme subdivision of landed property, the soil
is split into an infinite number of parcels, so that it can only be
cultivated by companies of husbandmen, will it be necessary that the
head of the government should leave the helm of state to follow the
plough? The morals and the intelligence of a democratic people would be
as much endangered as its business and manufactures, if the government
ever wholly usurped the place of private companies.
Feelings and opinions are recruited, the heart is enlarged, and the
human mind is developed by no other means than by the reciprocal
influence of men upon each other. I have shown that these influences are
almost null in democratic countries; they must therefore be artificially
created, and this can only be accomplished by associations.
When the members of an aristocratic community adopt a new opinion, or
conceive a new sentiment, they give it a station, as it were, beside
themselves, upon the lofty platform where they stand; and opinions
or sentiments so conspicuous to the eyes of the multitude are easily
introduced into the minds or hearts of all around. In democratic
countries the governing power alone is naturally in a condition to
act in this manner; but it is easy to see that its action is always
inadequate, and often dangerous. A government can no more be competent
to keep alive and to renew the circulation of opinions and feelings
amongst a great people, than to manage all the speculations of
productive industry. No sooner does a government attempt to go
beyond its political sphere and to enter upon this new track, than
it exercises, even unintentionally, an insupportable tyranny; for a
government can only dictate strict rules, the opinions which it favors
are rigidly enforced, and it is never easy to discriminate between its
advice and its commands. Worse still will be the case if the government
really believes itself interested in preventing all circulation of
ideas; it will then stand motionless, and oppressed by the heaviness of
voluntary torpor. Governments therefore should not be the only active
powers: associations ought, in democratic nations, to stand in lieu of
those powerful private individuals whom the equality of conditions has
swept away.
As soon as several of the inhabitants of the United States have taken
up an opinion or a feeling which they wish to promote in the world,
they look out for mutual assistance; and as soon as they have found each
other out, they combine. From that moment they are no longer isolated
men, but a power seen from afar, whose actions serve for an example,
and whose language is listened to. The first time I heard in the United
States that 100,000 men had bound themselves publicly to abstain from
spirituous liquors, it appeared to me more like a joke than a serious
engagement; and I did not at once perceive why these temperate citizens
could not content themselves with drinking water by their own firesides.
I at last understood that 300,000 Americans, alarmed by the progress
of drunkenness around them, had made up their minds to patronize
temperance. They acted just in the same way as a man of high rank who
should dress very plainly, in order to inspire the humbler orders with
a contempt of luxury. It is probable that if these 100,000 men had lived
in France, each of them would singly have memorialized the government to
watch the public-houses all over the kingdom.
Nothing, in my opinion, is more deserving of our attention than the
intellectual and moral associations of America. The political and
industrial associations of that country strike us forcibly; but the
others elude our observation, or if we discover them, we understand them
imperfectly, because we have hardly ever seen anything of the kind.
It must, however, be acknowledged that they are as necessary to the
American people as the former, and perhaps more so. In democratic
countries the science of association is the mother of science; the
progress of all the rest depends upon the progress it has made. Amongst
the laws which rule human societies there is one which seems to be more
precise and clear than all others. If men are to remain civilized, or to
become so, the art of associating together must grow and improve in the
same ratio in which the equality of conditions is increased.
Reading Tips
Use arrow keys to navigate
Press 'N' for next chapter
Press 'P' for previous chapter