Hatab A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

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A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

Lawrence J. Hatab

efending democracy by way of Nietzsche's thought would seem


adventurous at best, oxymoronic at worst. I admit to being
tentative about such a project, but I want to complement contemporary
attempts to rethink democracy freed f r o m its modernist moorings.^ A
significant dilemma facing such postmodern efforts is that the most
powerful critics of modernism, Nietzsche and Heidegger, also have been
strong critics of democracy; and the two critiques seem to imply each
other. How can we preserve a democratic polity when much of its
philosophical foundation has become suspect for us? I want to offer a
redescription of democracy in the light of Nietzsche's challenge, with
the hope that democracy and Nietzsche's critique of tradition not only
can coexist, but can even imply each other.
A key issue in this chapter is the meaning of Nietzsche's political
remarks. Positions on this question are located at, or move between,
two extremes: one that interprets the political passages as metaphors
for something nonpolitical (e.g., individuality, creativity), the other that
takes Nietzsche at his word and sees there a quasi-Fascist aristocraticism.^
I locate myself between these extremes i n the following way: Many of
Nietzsche's bombastic political claims should not be read literally, since
they enact a cryptic ambiguity and rhetorical play that we have come to
recognize i n Nietzsche's style. However, we cannot sanitize Nietzsche
and ignore a persistent pattern of antidemocratic thinking in his writ-
ings. I believe that although neither extreme is entirely wrong, some
kind of mediated view is required. This is more than hermeneutical
positioning, however. It spotlights a deep discord and perhaps even
some incoherence within Nietzsche's thinking itself.
Two main points will emerge i n this analysis: (1) Whatever pohti-
cal views Nietzsche d i d espouse, he should have preferred democracy
to any other political arrangement—and this i n terms of the spirit of
hiszyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA
own thinking.^ (2) The nature of democracy and its philosophical

19
20 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

background turn out to be quite different f r o m what is often thought.


Democracy need not be tied to traditional assumptions, such as those
expressed i n the E n l i g h t e n m e n t project. In fact, a postmodern,
Nietzschean approach to democracy can help clarify what does happen
and what should happen i n a democratic society, and why we should
want to live i n one.^

NIETZSCHE O N DEMOCRACY

Nietzsche attacks democracy as a secular, political consequence o f tra-


ditional religious and philosophical frameworks that can no longer
sustain themselves. Democracy, like morality, is dismantled i n Nietzsche's
analysis of the master-slave, creator-herd exchanges, i n his opposition
to any system grounded i n a universal human subject, and i n his adop-
tion of a decentered field of power plays among competing life forces.
In general, Nietzsche repudiates transcendent or rationalistic theories
of the state (e.g., teleological or contract theories). Political arrange-
ments are power relations, originally manifested i n the domination and
distance of the master, followed by the counterconquest of slave values.
Nietzsche's primary political target is egalitarianism. The promo-
tion o f human equality is unmasked as the weak majority grabbing
power to neutralize the strong few. Democracy can be understood as
restoring the loss of agency that constituted the slave mentality, since
slave values have now been redirected f r o m the more internal realm of
religious and moral ideals to the public realm of political power and
cultural institutions. The unfortunate consequence, for Nietzsche, is
the dominance and promulgation of mediocrity, of a vapid conformism
that obviates creativity and excellence, and that portends the aimless
contentment, the happy nihilism of the "last man."^ O n behalf of cul-
tural excellence, Nietzsche extols rank, distance, and domination. The
doctrine of human equality is diagnosed as weakness, decadence, and
decline, a poison that destroys the natural justice of differentiation.^
Nietzsche find himself at odds with most m o d e m political for-
mats,^ but he is most particularly a challenge to democratic liberalism
born out of Enlightenment paradigms.^ Throughout most of his writ-
ings, Nietzsche assails liberal notions of egalitarianism, rationalism, and
individualism, as well as the call for universal freedom and human
rights.^ The question is whether Nietzsche's deconstruction of democ-
racy reflects a concrete political program, an encoded cultural vision,
or some combination of the two.
M u c h of Nietzsche's language suggests an aristocratic, authoritar-
ian political arrangement. The historical precedent of the master-slave
Laxvrence J. Hatab 21

relation coupled with the notion of will to power as the fuel of human
activities leads easily to an apparent approval of political domination
and exploitation.^^ Cultural excellence is the result of conquest and
hierarchical rule.^^ The masses are described as the broad base upon
which and over which higher individuals can stand. H u m a n strength
and weakness, superiority, and inferiority often are discussed i n racial
and biological terms, as is human advancement i n the context of breed-
ing. There are also cryptic remarks about a future "great politics"
woven with images of impending warfare.^'* T o whatever extent all of
this is concretely political, we can say that Nietzsche rejected most tra-
ditional criteria of political theory (prosperity, happiness, rights, jus-
tice, public security) i n favor of cultivating and promoting the highest
cultural individuals and achievements. Nietzsche saw liberal democracy
as a f o r m of cultural decadence and a threat to a higher politics and
its enhancement of life.
Nietzsche's thought, of course, is so rich and ambiguous that a
literal pohtical reading might not always succeed. For one thing, his
genealogical tactic was not meant to reject or even regret the slave/
herd mentality, as much as to redescribe morality and demolish the
highminded pretense of egalitarian thinking by contextualizing it and
showing it to be no less interested i n power a n d c o n t r o l than
aristocraticism, and also no less c r e a t i v e . O n e could not support the
thesis that the genealogy is a defense of crude, overt, physical or social
power. Throughout Nietzsche's texts, the meaning of weakness, strength,
and power is polymorphous and far f r o m clear. Nietzsche calls the
morality he criticizes necessary for life, as is the function of the rule as
opposed to the e x c e p t i o n . T h e 'Veakness" of the herd mentality turns
out to be a practical strength, since it has prevailed over the strong.
It is not at all clear that what Nietzsche calls "strength" implies privi-
leged political power over other people, since he often dissociates his
cultural ideals f r o m matters of the s t a t e . I n general terms, the will to
power cannot be restricted to physical, social, or political control.
Understood as overcoming i n the midst of opposition, will to power can
apply to any relational move in the world or i n one's self, that is, both
to external and to internal creative achievement.^^
Such a reading does not, of course, rule out political power, but
it opens the door for what I would call the "creativity thesis" regarding
Nietzsche's genealogy. The kind of artistic and intellectual creativity
that Nietzsche extols was made possible by the slave mentality: out-
wardly thwarted, the slave turned to the inner realm of imagination.
Cultural creativity is the internalization or spiritualization of more brute
manifestations of power. A n d , like the original master, cultural creators
will be perceived as destroyers, as evil. So the genealogy of morals is a
22 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

complex code for understanding the dialectical development and dy-


namics of culture.^^
It w o u l d be wrong, though, to discount or ignore political
ramifications, since Nietzsche's thought i n general terms is not
antipolitical and since he uses political categories frequently and force-
fully enough to make purely metaphorical readings suspect.^^ Nietzsche
was a philosopher of culture, not an advocate of chaos, or amorphous
freedom, or sheer individualism. Consequently an interest in social and
political structure would not be alien to his project. Nietzsche also
emphasized the select, creative individuals through whom culture re-
ceives its shape and direction. It is the juxtaposition of cultural organi-
zation and creative individuals that lends ambiguity to Nietzsche's avowal
of rank. Is it simply an honorific gesture to greatness or is it meant to
take some concrete social and political form?^^
I can accept the idea that cultural achievement needs to be ranked
in terms of creator and herd categories, but must politics be so ranked?
There are a number of possible ways to sort out these issues for the
purpose of interpreting Nietzsche's thought.^^ But I want to go beyond
exegesis. Assuming that Nietzsche is i n some sense antidemocratic, I
want to challenge h i m by redescribing democracy without some of its
traditional baggage, to see i f it can express even some of Nietzsche's
own predilections. Nietzsche's value to us is his convincing critique of
egalitarian mediocrity and of the problematic or concealed motives i n
the psychology of democratic sentiments. M y questions are these: Must
democracy express or stem f r o m what Nietzsche calls "smallness" or
'Veakness" i n the face of life? Are the herd mentality and mediocrity
intrinsic to democracy? Can the creator-herd problem be separated
f r o m democratic politics? In short, can democracy be separated f r o m
egalitarianism?

DEMOCRACY WITHOUT EQUALITY

Democracy can be maintained without one of its traditional banners: a


belief i n some k i n d of substantive human equality. Democracy does
require the concept of "equality before the law" and some notion of
equal opportunity and participation (e.g., one person, one vote), but
such constructions need not depend on any version of "sameness" i n
human beings or i n outcomes. We can call these constructions "func-
tional," rather than "substantive," equities. The modern notion that "all
humans are born equal" (duly corrected f r o m "all men are created
equal") is largely derived f r o m two crucial influences in the Western
tradition: the Judeo-Christian image of equality i n the eyes of one G o d ,
Laxvrence J. Hatab 23

and the philosophical assumption of a common rationality, the capacity


to apprehend universal, necessary truths. Both notions provide a tran-
scendent perspective to supercede physical, natural, and cultural differ-
ences, thereby opening conceptual space for e q u a l i t y . O n c e these
traditional foundations become suspect or dismantled, however, the
notion of human equality becomes very difficult, if not impossible, to
defend. What is universal in the human condition? How are we i n any
sense the same? We seem to be left with nothing but differing condi-
tions, outlooks, and capacities.
I argue that we can defend democratic values without any sense of
equality that connotes some positive description, condition, or meta-
physical essence i n human nature. In other words, a commitment to
democracy need not compel us to espouse any f o r m of substantive
egalitarianism.^^ If a democratic apologist agrees that equality need not
mean something substantive, but simply equal respect and opportunity
to participate, the question remains: Why grant this? Traditional mod-
els at least had a ready answer. Sidestepping those models obligates us
to find another answer. I shape my case by way of the postmodern
challenge to traditional structures inspired by Nietzsche. I want to ex-
amine three elements that are more or less consonant with Nietzsche's
thought and that can figure i n a democratic setting. It is significant that
none of the elements reflects a positive, foundational condition; rather,
there is a kind of negativity operative i n each. The elements are: (1)
The function of the agon, or contest, in ancient Greek culture; (2) The
absence o f objective, absolute knowledge i n an atmosphere o f
antifoundationalism and perspectivism; and (3) The suspicion of power
and its pretense of cognitive or moral justification.
Nietzsche stressed and favored the Greek interest in contests for
excellence, which operated i n all their cultural pursuits (e.g., athletics,
art, oratory, philosophy). In an early piece. Homer's Contest (1872),^^
Nietzsche argued that the Greek enculturated their destructive instincts
through the agon, and that this was also productive of excellence, since
talent unfolded in a struggle. Moreover, an agonistic spirit insured a
proliferation of excellence by preventing uniform control and stagna-
tion; it reflected the overall Greek resistance to "domination by one"
(Alleinherrschaft), and their fear of its dangers.
T o my knowledge, Nietzsche d i d not appreciate the links between
this agonistic spirit and democratic practice. The birth of democracy i n
Greece can be seen as continuous with a wider contentious atmosphere
that can add to our understanding of democratic politics. The advent
of philosophy and science in Greece challenged tradition and its select
authorities, leading to a preference for open opportunity to content in
public discussion, something which nourished the growth of democracy.
24 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

In other words, democracy can be understood agonistically—^where


pohtical judgments are not preordained or dictated, where outcomes
depend on a contest of speeches, where one viewzyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWV
wins and other views
lose, creating temporary (and reversible) domination and submission
(since democracy demands that the outcome be binding).
Nietzsche's critique of truth and his perspectivism, if j o i n e d with
the practical need to make decisions i n politics, fit a democratic setting.
In fact, the denial of a fixed, absolute, or u n i f o r m truth may simply
clarify and reinforce the dynamics and aptness of a democratic contest
of speeches. If the truth is not evident or even possible, and a number
of different perspectives are i n play, the only political alternative to one
view ruling absolutely (and arbitrarily), or to the chaos of no view
ruling, is an arranged contest of viewpoints decided by a majority vote.
Such an agonistic, antifoundational model represents a postmodern
alternative to the belief, common to some democratic theories, that a
group decision is more likely to reflect "the truth."^^
O n e problem with Nietzsche's democracy-herd equation is that for
Nietzsche, a mark of the herd mentality is its need for security and its
fear of uncertainty, something he connects with intellectual dogma-
tism. Antidogmatism and a respect for different viewpoints are essential
for a liberal democracy; both attitudes imply each other, and both
require what the poet J o h n Keats called "negative capability," the capac-
ity to dwell with uncertainty.^^ A t bottom, my respect for other persons
and other viewpoints i n a democratic context would seem to mean,
ideally, that my view is not absolute, that it is possible for other views
to have some merit, or even to improve upon my view i n some way.
Otherwise, the democratic affirmation of free, open, and fair discussion
of all views would be either an irresponsible courting of error or a
condescending duplicity.Consequently, a democratic praxis and ethos
would have to involve intellectual modesty and an experimental dispo-
sition.^^ If we combine the historical tendency of democracies to pro-
mote free thinking and liberation f r o m the constraints of traditionalism
with something like Nietzsche's perspectivism and his idea that we need
our opponents in our self-development and should affirm them as
such^^—these conditions can mark both a b o l d postmodern anti-
foundationalism and a civil democratic discourse.
Suspicion of power follows easily f r o m the preceding discussion.
Aristocracies and authoritarian regimes have based their hierarchical
right to unchecked power on confident claims to knowledge about the
nature and order of things and about certain individuals' or groups'
superior capacity for knowledge and virtue. Political power never should
be put i n the hands of those who lack the cognitive or ethical aptitude
to apprehend the truth or the good—so goes the argument for aristoc-
Laxvrence J. Hatab 25

racy, notably articulated by Plato in the Republic. Part of the argument


of this chapter turns on the disruption of aristocratic confidence that
should follow f r o m the dismantling of moral, intellectual, and meta-
physical warrants. Nietzsche launched a masterful attack upon Platonic
metaphysics and all its descendants, but he seemed to miss or sidestep
the political implications spotlighted here: Cognitive and ethical
deconstruction should lead not to some new version of aristocracy but
to the radical openness of democracy, as long as democracy can be
redescribed in nonessentialist terms.^^
Democratic theory often has involved cognitive and ethical suspi-
cion as part of its rationale: H u m a n beings are limited i n terms of what
they can know and their capacity for v i r t u e . C o n s e q u e n t l y , any belief
in "enlightened despotism" is ruled out in principle 2iS a dangerous fiction.
Such a deconstructive distrust of human enlightenment and moral
perfection fits right in with Nietzsche's perspectivism and naturalism.
To be clear, Nietzsche was not suspicious of power as such, since he
considered all human activities and relations to be expressions of will
to power. H e was critical of the presumed justifications for power and
the highminded pretense of its executors.^^ Nietzsche's perspectival
characterization of will to power—^where power is pluralized and con-
tinually checked by challenges in an interplay of power sites—his
antiperfectionist characterization of human existence as an incorrigible
mixture of light and dark forces—^where disinterest and pure benevo-
lence are a fantasy—and his antifoundationalist characterization of
human knowledge—^where no claim can pretend to apprehend ulti-
mate reality and truth—not only fit, but require a democratic polity.^^
I am also struck by the relevance of Nietzsche's "victor principle" enun-
ciated in Ecce Homo: "I only attack causes that are victorious; I may even
wait until they become victorious. "^^ Whatever this might mean it fits
the power-perspectivism described above), one thing seems clear: victo-
ries i n nondemocratic arrangements are more difficult to challenge,
much less change.
T o sum up thus far: In politics, since we have no certainty, no
absolutes, no transcendent or a priori guidance, since we cannot trust
human beings to be fully knowledgeable and good, we need an ongo-
ing contest of views, a vote to provide temporary, contingent decisions,
and an agreement that such decisions be binding. Note how none of
this involves some positive property or condition or capacity that makes
us equal, that indicates a universal "human nature" or "common good."
In fact it is driven by negativity, limits, and opposition. We can replace
'all humans are equal' with 'all humans should participate.' Why should
all participate? Because we can never know the truth or the good, and
we can never know in advance with any a priori confidence what course
26 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

would be good to follow or who is privileged to identify or execute that


course. Because of uncertainty and disagreement (about both social
ends and means), democracy must permit more conflict than other
forms o f government (as opposed to the ideal of harmony and order
espoused by aristocrats such as Plato). But agonistic pluralism also
permits more desires to be satisfied and more goods to be discovered
than i n more regulated societies. So its contentious atmosphere makes
democracy more dynamic, productive, and creative.^^

D E M O C R A C Y AS M E R I T O C R A C Y

So far, advocating democracy need not fall back on any egalitarian


sentiments. H u m a n beings do not have to be deemed equal i n any way.
Democracy can be called an "agonistic meritocracy," where political
rule is earned i n a discourse contest, which everyone has the opportu-
nity to engage. It surely can be argued that an egalitarian mediocrity is
more likely or even very likely i n a democratic society, but I do not see
how democracy necessarily should imply the hegemony of mediocrity,
of the leveling tendencies duly criticized by Nietzsche. Nothing i n de-
mocracy forbids the recognition of excellence in politics or i n culture.
A shallow conformity is neither intrinsic to, nor inevitable i n , demo-
cratic practice. A n egalitarian psychology runs counter to the ideals of
liberal openness and self-expression that usually have inspired propo-
nents of democracy and caused some to warn against conformism and
the tyranny of mass thinking.^^ A cultural sense of justice need not insist
on equal worth; it can be right to acknowledge superiority when war-
ranted.^ Democratic communities never have collapsed into egalitarian
mush anyway, when you consider that we readily affirm many unequal
power relations i n milieus such as the military, the professions, and
education, and that we are prone to idolize talent i n various arenas. As
Nietzsche said, we "are accustomed to thezyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQ
doctrine of human equality,
though not to equality itself. "^^
In political practice, representative democracies amount to tem-
porary aristocracies. Moreover, political leadership can be acknowl-
edged as requiring exceptional qualities and special vision, even though
leaders are beholden to the people. Political campaigns do not require
that leaders try to please everyone or pander to voters' first impulses,
or that voters should perceive excellence as a threat.*^ It is possible to
elevate democratic discourse, to deepen discussion, to break egalitar-
ian habits i n political exchanges.^^ If a political leader panders or is
afraid to commit to a principle or policy, or to risk a controversy, this
is nothing more than self-serving cowardice. Leaders can challenge
Laxvrence J. Hatab 27

people, try to persuade them, and simply accept the political risk of
losing office.
The quality of political participation is a recognized problem in
democracy, but nondemocracies are no less subject to it. In any case,
democracy demands an educated citizenry, otherwise its defects become
magnified or guaranteed. The Western educational ideal of critical think-
ing, reasoned dispute, and open inquiry—^bom in the liberation of thought
f r o m traditionalism and religious revelation that marked both the Greek
and European "enlightenments"—is essential to, and i n fact productive
of, a democratic praxis and ethos.^^ A n d the notion of universal public
education—an American contribution—is the maximum extension of
this ideal. But even here we need not believe in equal intellectual capac-
ity or results. We simply can affirm a universal educational program to
give all citizens an equal opportunity to develop their abilities; we still can
recognize excellence in results. Universal education can be defended on
the grounds that intelligence and talent are randomly distributed in the
population and are not the province of any identifiable group (this is our
improvement over the Greeks). It may be that excellence is rare, but a
universal education program can acknowledge this and, in fact, maximize
the amount of improvement and talent that a society can generate.^^

GENEALOGY AND DEMOCRACY

We have indicated that Nietzsche's genealogical analysis of morality was


not meant to eliminate it, but to derail the pretense of its "purity" by
highlighting its naturalistic conditions, messy contingencies, and sub-
liminal drives. A comparable analysis of democracy likewise need not
threaten it, but rather redescribe it; and such redescription can give us
some revealing Nietzschean angles on democratic performance.
Many of the criticisms of democracy, even among its proponents,
stem f r o m cognitivist criteria, in that democratic practice often does
not measure up to standards of objective rationality. O n this score
there seems to be an interesting homology between democratic pro-
pensities and Nietzsche's analysis of the human condition. Some of the
noncognitivist elements that Nietzsche insists we acknowledge may be
more evident in democratic societies than in others. As long as critical
reasoning is still affirmed as part of democratic campaigns and decision
making, then the role of passion, partisanship, self-interest, rhetoric,
and various other noncognitive forces frequently regretted by critics
can receive a back-door Nietzschean defense."^^ Such forces cannot be
purged f r o m human engagement; they have their place in promoting
life interests. The untidy, contentious, and visceral aspects of democratic
28 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

elections that are so disappointing to many observers might be better


understood as having a "Dionysian" role i n political dynamics. For
Nietzsche, passion and instinct are not "thoughtless," are not the oppo-
sites of cognition. Just as Nietzsche shows cognition to be blended with
instinct, we can go the other way and suggest that certain instinctive
intimations and passionate responses have disclosive power. H o w do we
know that the infamous propensity for "image over substance" i n demo-
cratic campaigns generates only defective or degraded results? Might
there by something authentic i n the noncognitive tone of our political
exchanges.^^
Aristotle recognized the positive role that rhetoric plays i n politi-
cal discourse; noncognitive elements must be recognized and utilized,
and character can be a key ingredient i n audience persuasion.^^ Politics
limited to rhetoric is dangerous, but politics without rhetoric may be
lifeless and devoid of those nonrational powers that figure i n our sense
of the world. Style may i n fact r u n deep and tap unmediated intuitions,
which can be dark, of course, but also noble; for every Hitler, there is
a Martin Luther King.^^ Democratic practice as a whole can be seen as
a mixture of rational and nonrational ingredients, a k i n d of political
dance that cannot be strictly choreographed by any overt design, be-
nevolent or otherwise.

PERSPECTIVISM

Nietzsche challenged the notion of an absolute, uniform, stable truth


and replaced it with a dynamic perspectivism. There is no freestanding
truth, only perspectives of different instances of will to power.^^ Nietzsche
often has been interpreted as denying any sense of truth or espousing
a relativistic phenomenalism. There is much ambiguity on the question
of truth i n Nietzsche's texts, but I think it is fair to say that he accepted
the notion of truth i f purged o f metaphysical foundationahsm and i f
limited to a modest, pluralized perspectivism. Even i f knowledge is
variable, historical, and not disinterested, this does not make it false or
arbitrary.^^ Moreover, there are tantalizing passages where Nietzsche
hints at a k i n d of pluralized "objectivity," in that the more perspectives
one can take up, the more "adequate" one's view of the world will be.^^
It seems clear that democracy, as described i n this chapter, is
intrinsically perspectival. T h e k i n d o f perspectivism advocated by
Nietzsche would seem to be, f r o m a political standpoint, best exemplified
and least ignored i n a democratic society. Perspectivism implies the
illegitimacy of any one perspective holding sway and canceling out other
perspectives. Democracy, as an agonistic pluralism, seems to be the only
Laxvrence J. Hatab 29

safeguard against a particular power site becoming totalized. Moreover,


it might be possible to utilize Nietzsche's pluralized "objectivity" to
redescribe the notion of compromise that so frequendy operates in
democratic exchanges. Although dilution is always a danger, it may be
that compromise is a means of achieving a more globally adequate
result by incorporating many different perspectives.

RIGHTS

The notion of political rights regarding participation i n political pro-


cesses (e.g., free speech) is intrinsic to the previous analysis. What might
be called "existential rights" protecting against social abuses and exclu-
sions (e.g., discrimination) also can be defended according to the
Nietzschean tack I am taking. A postmodern deconstruction of "na-
tures" and "essences" seems to dismantle traditional vocabularies for
human rights. But rights can be redescribed as functional and practical
commands that need not be seen as "possessions" stemming f r o m some
universal "human nature." Rights need not be "natural"; they can be
conferred. But why grant them? Again, the Nietzschean "negation" motif
running through my analysis can work here.
According to Nietzsche (in all the periods of writing), linguistic
structures falsify or distort the uniqueness, complexity, and fluidity of
lived e x p e r i e n c e . I n social and political arenas, abuses or exclusions
of people are usually founded on confident classifications and reduc-
tions ("you are a ," "women are "). If we consider the
human person as ultimately a mystery—as a unique singularity, as some-
thing unfinished, as introspectively concealed, as dwelling in an abyss—
then we can disrupt the reductions that usually figure in our exclusionary
practices: categories of race, gender, class, function, utility, etc. Such
categories have a practical use but they can be criticized and limited i f
meant as substantive descriptions.^^ So our objections to abuses and
exclusions can stem f r o m a critique of positive attributions rather than
f r o m the assertion of some discernible property or nature that all hu-
man beings s h a r e . C a n we say that rights follow not f r o m what we
"are" but f r o m what we are notf^
A significant advantage of an agonistic, nonreductive, "negative"
angle on human existence is that it can help us negotiate the range of
difficulties that follow f r o m individual-group tensions. While prevent-
ing reductive judgments, it also allows space for affirming individual,
ethnic, and cultural characteristics by undermining "universalism," which
loses its conceptual validation. Besides, the Enlightenment projection
of a universal human nature was i n many ways bogus because it was a
30 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

disguised ethnocentrism (in 'We are all the same' and 'Be human' read
'Be like us—or else'). Universalism was cashed out as colonialistic pa-
ternalism and cultural genocide. But the celebration of differences brings
on the danger of tribalism—the movement f r o m 'We are not all the
same' to 'We have nothing i n common,' or, more subtly, 'You cannot
understand our world'—something that can also generate a dehuman-
ization of the other. Finally, individualism poses a danger for social
cohesion by touting or permitting an atomistic concentration on self-
interest and by undermining the capacity for a social project.^^ The
problem is not individuality or group characteristics, but rather the
reductive grounding of human nature i n some definite condition or
structure—^whether universal, group, or individual. What is needed is
an account o f human existence that can celebrate openness, something
that is neither suppressive of differences nor limited to differences.
Nietzsche's notion of an agonistic pluralism can both express the
contours o f a democratic polity and speak against the various categori-
cal dangers described above. Democracy can be neither a universalistic
erasure o f differences nor a tribalistic reduction to group differences
nor an atomistic reduction to individual differences. Democracy can be
none of these things because it is a social arrangement, built around an
on-going interplay of differences and instigated by cognitive limits to
truth claims of all sorts. Such an agonistic, contingent atmosphere is
needed to complement an institutional conception of democracy and
to radically reinform ideals such as autonomy, representation, account-
ability, and respect.

DEMOCRACY AND T H E CREATOR

Part o f my argument has been that a democratic society need not fall
prey to the kind of leveling mediocrity that bothered Nietzsche so much.
But even i f I were wrong, I would still question Nietzsche's apparent
opposition to democracy on behalf of a cultural elite of creators. It
seems to me that creative types need social conditions of normalcy and
constraint as an oppositional stimulant to creativity. Creative will to
power needs a counterforce against which it can struggle and open up
its innovation. Creativity i n context is both productive and reactive, is
both for the new and against the old. If it were politically established
that now creators are desired, expected, encouraged, supported, might
this not ruin the agonistic atmosphere essential to creativity? O r pro-
duce ersatz creators (those who otherwise would be weeded out by the
risks o f rocking the boat)? Does not an exception need an established
rule not only to define itself but to catalyze itself?^^ W o u l d the creator
Lawrence J. Hatab 31

flourish if "honored" by institutional support? If Nietzsche's apparent


political aristocracy is meant to foster creativity that would be lost or
prevented by the predominance of herd values, the question arises:
Does the creator, the life-affirming, strong individual need protection,
as it were, or encouragement, or sustenance? Should the creator not be
able to withstand the challenge of conformity, even to want it? Was not
this Zarathustra's final affirmation?

ABBREVIATIONS OF NIETZSCHE'S WORKS


( N U M B E R S I N N O T E S R E F E R T O T E X T SECTIONS)

A The Antichrist, in The Portable Nietzsche, ed. and trans. Walter


Kaufmann (New York: Viking Press, 1954).

BGE Beyond Good and Evil, i n Basic Writings of Nietzsche, ed. and
trans. Walter Kaufmann (New York: Random House, 1966).

BT The Birth of Tragedy, in Basic Writings.

EH Ecce Homo, in Basic Writings.

GS The Gay Science, trans. Walter Kaufmann (New York: Random


House, 1974).
GM On the Genealogy of Morals, in Basic Writings.

HAH Human, All Too Human, trans. R. J . Hollingdale (New York:


Cambridge University Press, 1986).
KGW Kritische Gesamtausgabe Werke, ed. G. Colli and M . Montinari
(Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1967ff.).
OTL On Truth and Lies in an Extramoral Sense, in Philosophy and
Truth, ed. and trans. J . Daniel Breazeale (Atlantic Highlands,
N.J.: Humanities Press, 1979).
TI Twilight of the Idols, in Portable Nietzsche.
WP The Will to Power, trans. Walter Kaufmann and R. J .
Hollingdale (New York: Random House, 1967).

Z Thus Spoke Zarathustra, in Portable Nietzsche.

NOTES

1. See, for example, Richard Rorty, Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity (Cam-
bridge University Press, 1989), which gives both stimulating proposals and a
32 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

critical review of the literature. See also Cornelius Castoriadis,zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZ


Philosophy, Poli-
tics, Autonomy: Essays in Political Philosophy, ed. David Ames Curtis (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1991), and Claude Lefort, Democracy and Political Theory,
trans. David Macey (MinneapoHs: University of Minnesota Press, 1988). A more
traditional but highly recommended analysis is Robert A. Dahl, Democracy and
Its Critics (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989).
2. A helpful survey of the literature can be found in Bruce Detmler,
Nietzsche and the Politics of Aristocratic Radicalism (Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 1990), ch. 1. A recent article that takes Nietzsche's antidemo-
cratic views seriously is Douglas Kellner, "Nietzsche and Modernity: Critical
Reflections on Twilight of the Idols,'' International Studies in Philosophy 23, no. 2
(1991): 3-17.
3. Some other proposals along similar lines are Mark Warren, Nietzsche
and Political Thought (Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press, 1988); Tracy B. Strong,
"Texts and Pretexts: Reflections on Perspectivism in Nietzsche," Political Theory
13, no. 2 (May 1985); Henry S. Kariel, In Search of Authority: Twentieth Century
Political Thought (Free Press, 1964); and "Nietzsche's Preface to Constitutional-
ism,"/oiim«/ of Politics, 25, (May 1963). These authors are helpful, but Warren
and Kariel are too much bound by a universal concept of human subjectivity
and individuality to be able to convert Nietzsche on his own terms. See Detwiler's
critique in Nietzsche and the Politics of Aristocratic Radicalism, 95-97, 160-62 for
Warren, and 90ff. and 106fF. for Kariel.
4. This chapter will operate largely on the ideal level of what a democratic
community can be like and ought to be like and not be bound by how such
communities have in fact behaved. Economic issues are left aside for a separate
discussion (e.g., wealth and poverty), which have an important bearing on this
matter. This chapter will focus on democratic praxis and its background beliefs
rather than on institutional structure or details. This author's defense of de-
mocracy is not an attempt at "justification" or "demonstration" but simply a
response to the concrete question Why should one want to live in a democratic
society?
5. Z, prologue, 5.
6. TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely Man," 37, 48.
7. See HAH I, 438-82.
8. See Warren, Nietzsche and Political Thought, 213ff., and Detwiler, Nietzsche
and the Politics of Aristocratic Radicalism, 92ff.

9. See GS, 174; BGE, 38, 201-3, 212, 258; GM I, 16; II, 2, 11; TI, "Skir-
mishes of an Untimely Man," 37-41; A, 43, 62. There are a number of deep
currents in Nietzsche's objections to liberalism. "Equality" subverts Nietzsche's
special version of freedom, namely the disequilibrium of a struggle against an
opposing force, of the creative overcoming that achieves something in and
through this strife (see TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely Man," 38). Liberalism
conceives freedom as state-guaranteed liberty to pursue individual self-interest.
Laiorence J. Hatab 33

based on a universal concepdon of human beings as single individuals with a


unified, ordered nature that can be actualized by rational deliberation. Nietzsche
rejects this picture of an individual, unified, self-directed, rationally ordered
human nature. The self, at bottom, is not a discrete ego-consciousness but a
decentered process {BGE, 17), not an organized unity but an irresolvable con-
test of differing drives {BGE, 6). For Nietzsche, only the strong few can be given
the freedom of self-direction and self-cultivation; most people, out of weakness,
would disintegrate or cause havoc. Democracy, for Nietzsche, amounts to an
oxymoron, an "autonomous herd" {BGE, 202). So freedom is not for everyone
(see GS, 55, 76; BGE, 221; Z, "The Way of the Creator"; WP, 287, 778, 893-94).
Warren understands Nietzsche's differences with liberal modernism (see Nietzsche
and Political Thought, 152-58), but he thinks that a universal notion of free
agency can be located in the will to power—understood not as domination but
as self-constitution. Such an interpretation of Nietzsche's terminology, however,
misses his persistent promotion of rank and the way in which domination
motifs figure in self-cultivation and social relations throughout the writings.

10. See GS, ?>11\ BGE, 259; GM II, 11; TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely
Man," 38; EH, "Why I Am a Destiny," 4; WP, 369, 728, 882.
11. See BGE, 257.
12. See ibid., 212, 242, 259; A, 57; WP, 888, 890, 898.
13. See BGE, 224, 251, 262; GMI, 5. There are also disturbing references
to letting the failures, the weak, and the sick perish in the interests of life (A,
2; T, "Skirmishes of an Untimely Man," 36).
14. See Z, "On War and Warriors"; BGE, 208; EH, "Why I Am a
Destiny," 1.
15. On this last point, see GS, 370, and G M I , 10.
16. See GS, 55; 76; WP, 273, 402-4.
17. TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely Man," 14. Higher types, because of
their complexity, are more vulnerable and perish more easily (WP, 684).
18. Z, "On the New Idol"; TI, "What the Germans Lack," 4; EH, "Why 1
Am So Wise," 3. See Peter Bergmann, Nietzsche: The Last Antipolitical German
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987). For an anti-Fascist tone in
Nietzsche, see GS, 377. For the classic critique of the Nietzsche-Nazi connec-
tion, see Walter Kaufmann, Nietzsche: Philosopher, Psychologist, Antichrist (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1974).
19. See GS, 13; Z, "On Self-Overcoming"; BGE, 19, 229. Something Uke
pacifism, as the overcoming of violent impulses in the self, can therefore exem-
plify will to power!
20. For "weakness" as a positive power of spirit, see TI, "Skirmishes of an
Untimely Man," 14, 45; for power internalized, see G M I , 10; II, 16; for slave
inwardness making mankind more "interesting," see GS, 1, and G M I , 6; for
34 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

philosophy as "mastery," seezyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFE


BGE, 5-6; for a more internalized notion of "breed-
ing" (zuchten can mean "cultivate"), see BGE, 61, and TI, "Skirmishes of an
Untimely Man," 28; for suggestions of a "synthesis" of master and slave, see
BGE, 257, 260, and G M I , 16 (cf. the provocative "Roman Caesar with Christ's
Soul" in WP, 983); for the connection between the creator and evil and destruc-
tion, see GS, 4; Z, "On Old and New Tablets"; TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely
Man," 45. All this suggests that Nietzsche's political categories are a mask for
something else, especially since he himself affirmed the use of masks in philoso-
phy {BGE, 40).

21. It is clear from G M I, 6 that the critique of morals cannot be called


"apolitical." Nietzsche's creator is not just an individual seeking self-creation,
but a legislator of values for all humanity {BGE, 61,211; WP, 957, 972, 979) and
the seed of new states and communities {GS, 23), so the link with political
aristocracy is natural (see BGE, 203). Nietzsche occasionally talks about the rule
of artist-t^ants {BGE, 208, 251, and WP, 960), suggesting a political aestheti-
cism—the polity seen as a groundless artwork forged in conflict—a notion
uncomfortably close to Nazi ideology. On this, see Detwiler, Nietzsche and the
Politics of Aristocratic Radicalism, 111-14.

22. In BT, 21, Nietzsche suggests that the early Greeks experienced an
ambivalence wherein the Apollonian embraced politics and the Dionysian dis-
dained it. But the Greeks were able to find a harmony in the cultural institution
of tragedy. Did Nietzsche experience a similar ambivalence in search of concor-
dance?
23. Nietzsche's higher types may be political rulers, or they may simply
use and benefit from aristocratic political arrangements. Democracy might be
affirmed by Nietzsche as necessary for the masses (as is morality), and the
creator-herd hierarchy thus can be sustained in a cultural sense. Higher types
might use democracy as an instrument for creative domination (see BGE, 242;
WP, 898, 960). More subtly, the whole issue might be detypified and deperson-
alized so that the moral/democratic "herd" category can reflect our social
nature (see GS, 354), and the "creator" category can reflect individuation.
Warren distinguishes Nietzsche's use of Kultur and Zivilization to differentiate
individuation and socialization {Nietzsche and Political Thought, ch. 2, n. 1, 46).
In this way, Nietzsche's "pohtics" might be seen as minimally ordered and
verging on the fringes of libertarianism or anarchism.

24. See, for example, the links among equality, reason, and God in Locke's
Second Treatise of Government, II, 4-6, in John Locke, Two Treatises of Government,
ed. Peter Laslett (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), 269-271.
25. The Greeks affirmed democracy without a strict egalitarianism. They
possessed a functional, political sense of equality that was not based on any
metaphysical concept of human equality, and, of course, that was not extended
to all persons in the community. See Josiah Ober, Mass and Elite in Democratic
Athens (Princeton University Press, 1989). Pohtical equahty was confined to an
"in-group," Athenian citizens, which did not include women, slaves, or non-
Laxvrence J. Hatab 35

Athenians (128, 261, 266-67); furthermore, aristocratic sensibihties were not


purged from Greek pohtics (288). Democratic egahtarianism has functioned in
innumerable contexts throughout history and in all sorts of cultures (e.g., in
tribal associations). The question is how far equality extends. Universal egahtari-
anism is relatively rare in theory, and even then, not always cashed out in
practice. One reason why universal equality can be seen as problematical is that
the confidence of traditional egalitarianism usually stemmed from an "in-group"
allegiance (e.g., white men). Once actual universal equality is at hand, egalitar-
ian affections often lapse. I am proposing that we sidestep the problem entirely
by not touting any notion of human parity.
26. i^GW III, 2, 277-286.
27. For more on the democracy-contest connection in ancient Greece,
see my Myth and Philosophy: A Contest of Truths (La Salle, II.: Open Court, 1990),
53-54, Jean-Pierre Vernant, Myth and Society in Ancient Greece, trans. Janet Lloyd
(Sussex: Harvester Press, 1980), 19-44; Castoriadis, "The Greek Polis and the
Creation of Democracy," in Philosophy, Politics, and Autonomy; Ober, Mass and
Elite in Democratic Athens, 291, 333. Ober indicates that a spirit of debate was not
always exercised in Greek democracy (73-85, 297-99); it seemed to emerge
when there was not a clear social consensus. This connects with my next point.
28. Aristotle held something along these lines, as did John Stuart Mill in
his defense of free speech. See Dahl, Democracy and Its Critics, 141-42. For a
discussion of this belief in the Greek world, see Ober, Mass and Elite in Demo-
cratic Athens, 163-69; aristocratic doubts about the "wisdom of the masses" are
discussed on 187ff.
29. Letter to George and Thomas Keats, December, 1817. See GS, 355, for the
connection between knowledge and fear. Negative capability is something like zywvuts
what Rorty calls the condition of an "ironist" {Contingency, Irony, Solidarity, 73).

30. Conversely, we can understand tyrannies of all kinds, especially so-


called benevolent despotisms, to be grounded not in sheer power, but in
certainty.

31. Nietzsche embraced a kind of experimentalism in GS, 51, 319, 324;


and section 356 indicates a connection between democracy and a liberated,
experimental artistry. In the so-called middle period, Nietzsche often spoke of
intellectual modesty: 'There are no absolute truths. Consequently what is needed
from now on is historical philosophizing, and with it the virtue of modesty" {HAH,
"Of First and Last Things"). In the same work see "Man Alone with Himself,"
636-37, and 'The Wanderer and His Shadow," which contains many positive
remarks about democracy: a tyranny of fixed ideas can be countered by a
"democracy of concepts" (230); the inevitability of democracy in Europe and its
capacity to protect culture from tyranny (275) and tyrannical desires (289) and
to maximize individual freedom of thought and lifestyle (293). Nietzsche's
middle period (roughly 1878-1882) reflects an interesting shift where rational-
ity and science are given more emphasis and approval, as is, not coincidentally,
democracy. For an insightful analysis of this period in relation to early and later
36 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

writings from the standpoint of pohtics, see Detwiler,zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVU


Nietzsche and the Politics of
Aristocratic Radicalism, 183-88.

32. See GM I, 10, and TI, "Morality as Anti-Nature," 3.


33. See Warren, Nietzsche and Political Thought, 235-37. In his middle period,
Nietzsche recognized the connection between authority and truth and the
consequences when truth is challenged: "Subordination . . . is bound to disap-
pear because its foundation is disappearing: belief in unconditional authority,
in definitive truth. . . . In circumstances people subordinate themselves only
under conditions, as a result of a mutual compact, thus without prejudice to
their own interests" {HAH I, 441).
34. The American notion of separation of powers and the Bill of Rights
stem from a suspicion of government power and of the propensity of both
government and the masses to oppress individual interests. Writers like James
Madison justified such suspicion by citing the power of passion to rule human
nature (see, e.g.. The Federalist, papers 10, 51). Also, John Dewey: "No man or
limited set of men is wise enough or good enough to rule others without their
consent" ("Democracy and Educational Administration," School and Society, 45,
[April 1937]). Nietzsche could radicalize such suspicion by preempting any
possibility of achieving traditional models of knowledge and goodness.
35. In TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely Man," 44, Nietzsche notes the dan-
gers of "great men" in history holding political power, and he warns against
believing in their "higher virtue."
36. Perhaps Nietzsche might have meant that aristocracies now can be
warranted by sheer power alone, without "justification." I think not, since an
interest in certain cultural excellences figures in his hierarchism (excellences
which still might be separable, though, from politics). Even if aristocratic power
were simply willed and attained by some kind of "aesthetic" fiat, that opens the
possibility of any orientation taking power, including a democratic orientation,
without having to justify itself. However, as this chapter attests, a certain de-
fense can be made for the aptness of democracy in a postmodern atmosphere.
37. EH, 'Why I Am So Wise," 7.
38. Pluralistic and multi-ethnic societies, a growing trend in the modern
world, make the notion of a common good not only less likely, but less desir-
able. For an interesting discussion of the tension between pluralism and the
common good, see Dahl, Democracy and Its Critics, chs. 20 and 21. One defen-
sible version of a common good would be the general value of democratic
arrangements, procedures, and attitudes.
39. Cf. John Stuart Mill in On Liberty.
40. In TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely Man," 48, Nietzsche advocates a
sense of justice that portions equality to the equal and inequality to the un-
equal, an idea also affirmed by Aristotle in PoliticsUl, 12-13, and the Nicomachean
Ethics V, 3, 1131a20-25.
Lawrence J. Hatab 37

41. GS, 18.


42. Representative democracy has some advantages over direct democracy
of the Athenian type in being less prey to demagoguery, mob rule, and rash
decisions. But even Greek democracy could not be characterized as lacking a
sense of hierarchy, but rather as a blend of mass and elite elements. See Ober,
Mass and Elite in Democratic Athens, 123-25, 304-307, 316-324, 332, 338.

43. I would not want to argue that such elevation is easy or likely; it is
difficult work to engage political issues well. I sometimes think that our "soap
opera" campaigns—the emphasis on sensationalism, personal dirt, private be-
havior, and so on—appeal to people (including journalists) because such fac-
tors allow for easy analysis and judgments. But 1 was heartened somewhat when
I listened to the Senate debate on the Gulf War resolution. It was, I think, fairly
high level discourse, without too much puffery and distortion.
44. This may be one reason why democracy often fails or does not work
well in cultures that are not habituated to the same educational ideal, that have
not yet moved beyond traditionalistic patterns.
45. Nietzsche, a nineteenth-century German, may have been subject to
biases about educability, since class consciousness was (and is) such a strong
influence in Europe. He may have feared democracy as an inevitable leveling
of culture, rather than as a force that can open up more excellence by throwing
out a wider net.
46. Nietzsche did not reject critical rationality and reason giving (see, e.g.,
GS, 1-2, 191, 209). He was not against reason, but rather reductive rationalism;
nor did he support unbridled passion, but rather the channeling and cultiva-
tion of passion (see TI, "Morality as Anti-Nature," 1, and WP, 928, 933). For
commentary on this point, see Kaufmann, Nietzsche: Philosopher, Psychologist,
Antichrist, 211-35, 391-411.
47. One example turns out to be surprisingly ambiguous: the Kennedy-
Nixon television debate in 1960. Nixon's visual image in several ways was seen
to be less attractive than Kennedy's. A poll of viewers had Kennedy the winner;
but a poll of radio listeners had Nixon the winner. By cognitivist standards one
seems forced to conclude that the real winner was Nixon. But given Nixon's
later difficulties and failings, might it be that his looks gave something away?
(When trying to convince my parents that there was something wrong with
Nixon, I cried out, "Just watch him, he's a walking textbook of symptoms!")
Perhaps the television audience was right after all. Can image sometimes prop-
erly outweigh substance?
48. Weber's notion of charisma is operative here. See "The Nature of
Charismatic Domination," in Max Weber: Selections in Translation, ed. W. G.
Runciman, trans. Eric Matthews (Cambridge Universit)^ Press, 1978), 226-250.
Weber, of course, was strongly influenced by Nietzsche. For an overview of the
question of rhetoric in Nietzsche, see Alan D. Schrift, Nietzsche and the Question
of Interpretation (New York: Routledge, 1990), chapter 5.
38 A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy

49. Athenian democracy did not need Plato to know the dangers of rheto-
ric. See Ober,zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA
Mass and Elite in Democratic Athens, 156£F. The Greeks tended
toward a balanced view of the importance and drawbacks of rhetoric: see 123¬
25, 177-78, 338-39.
50. See GS, 374; GM, III, 12; WP, 473, 486.
51. See Warren, Nietzsche and Political Thought, 90-99, and Schrift, Nietzsche
and the Question of Interpretation, chapters 6 and 7.

52. "There is only a perspective seeing, only a perspective 'knowing'; and


the more affects we allow to speak about one thing, the more complete will our
'concept' of this thing, our 'objectivity' be" (GM III, 12; see also GS, 78, 301,
374, and BGE, 211).
53. See OTL, GS, 354, and TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely Man," 26.
54. I take up this issue in "Nietzsche, Nihilism, and Meaning," The Person-
alist Forum 3, no. 2 (Fall 1978): 101-111, and "Rejoining Aletheia and Truth,"
International Philosophical Quarterly 30, no. 4 (December 1990): 431-47. See GS,
354, where the uniqueness of experience is contrasted with linguistic catego-
ries, where even "self-knowledge" is critiqued as something informed by com-
mon categories.
55. This could be called a postmodern modification of the Kantian notion
that rights are grounded in human freedom, that humans have rights not in
order to be free but because they are free. But postmodern freedom need not
be grounded in rational faculties or powers that liberate us from the constraints
of physical nature (such was the Enlightenment framework); we can declare a
more radical notion of existential freedom: being free of all categorical reduc-
tions and restraints.
56. The critique of "being" is so endemic to Nietzsche's thought that we
must question his typology, the delineation of human types and hierarchies so
confidently portrayed in his writings. A summary question is How can such an
intellectual liberal sound so much like a political conservative?
57. GS, 356, affirms the notion of a social "architecture," to counteract the
sense of a universalized individual "artistry." Nietzsche rejected a metaphysical
or social individualism (see HAH I, 472, and TI, "Skirmishes of an Untimely
Man," 33). G5354 makes clear that individual consciousness emerges in a social
relationship. The problem is the tendency toward over-socializing and con-
straining individual creativity. See Warren, Nietzsche and Political Thought, 55-61.
58. See GS, 55, 76, for remarks against the exception becoming the rule.
In BGE, 242, Nietzsche suggests that the exception may emerge greater and
stronger out of democratic frameworks. See also sections 229-30 for the con-
tentious "cruelty" of creative types in relation to the established order.

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