Contemporary democratic theory has been flourishing. Recent liberal, communitarian, republican, deliberative, agonistic, pluralist, postmodern, cosmopolitan, cyberspace, and realist models and theories abound. Patrick Deneen's book is a significant contribution to this genre and original in its critical focus on those democratic theories that “insist upon the possibility of democratic transformation” and advance “a conception of human beings as both infinitely malleable and ameliorable” (p. 4).
Deneen frames his thematic approach in terms of a binary opposition between “democratic faith” and “democratic realism,” the former a flawed and risky political theology and the latter a more sound faith. He then proceeds to construct a robust dialogue between democratic optimists (Protagoras, Rousseau, Whitman, Dewey, Arendt, and deliberative and agonistic theorists) and democratic realists (Plato, Tocqueville, Reinhold Niebuhr, Christopher Lasch, Lincoln, and Deneen). He concludes that we should have faith in democracy. But what kind of faith? The answer—a chastened yet hopeful democratic religiosity grounded in the reality of our existential insufficiency.
The body, heart, and soul of Democratic Faith is to be found in five major claims: First, modern secular progressives and postmodern perspectivists, lacking existential depth, waver between the twin extremes of excessive democratic expectations and despair. Second, Plato was a friendly critic of democracy and the Republic should be read as a dialogue on the democratic soul. Third, Tocqueville rightly determined that the logic of modernity necessitates the need for a religious revival. Fourth, hope, humility, and charity, the core virtues of democracy, can only be truly understood from a Christian realist perspective. And finally, Abraham Lincoln's second inaugural address is the key to understanding both his political thought and the idea of democracy.
Deneen is at his best identifying Rousseau as the founding father of modern democratic faith and reminding us of the undervalued insights of Tocqueville and Reinhold Niebuhr. At the same time, he is at his most questionable in his faith in the infallibility of Platonic wisdom, in his superficial treatment of Hannah Arendt and postmodern democrats, and in his concluding thoughts about Abraham Lincoln.
Contrary to prevailing interpretations, Deneen reads the Protagoras as a warning against “the excess of human self-overestimation endemic to the democratic faith” (p. 139) and not as a pro-democratic dialogue on how political virtue can be taught and transmitted to subsequent generations. Plato's subtle reinvention of the Promethean myth in Protagoras's speech makes a weak argument for democracy stronger and “sets a trap” (p. 139) for the reader. By making Prometheus mankind's savior rather than curse (as the myth appears in Hesiod), Protagoras's speech lulls us into a false humanistic optimism.
While Deneen's brilliant scholarship makes for a plausible interpretation of the Protagoras, the same cannot be said for the Republic. Here we are to believe that its central teaching is the vindication of the democratic soul as the means for attaining true justice. Rejecting the soul/city analogy and the philosopher-king model, Deneen concludes that Plato endorses the model of a kallidemokratia—“a self-ruled city of self-ruled souls” (p. 212). A type of “egalitarian self-rule is forged” (p. 212) where everyone has the opportunity to participate in cultivating the best possible soul. Plato thus joins the ranks of democratic realists, while at the same time offering us a model of democracy that outdoes “the most idealistic visions of the democratic faithful” (p. 192).
The author concludes with a moving chapter on Abraham Lincoln and how his tragic sense of democracy serves as “a model of democratic charity” (pp. 274–87). He maintains that Lincoln's second inaugural address, which mirrors John Winthrop's famous 1630 speech on Christian charity, essentially defines Lincoln's political thinking if we carefully read “the import of his last words backward” (p. 276). We discover that Lincoln had a Calvinist understanding of democratic equality, that this political theology was grounded in humility, human insufficiency, and charity, and that democracy rests most fundamentally on the revealed existence of God (p. 287).
I prefer to make sense of Lincoln through the lens of political psychology and in terms of the complexity of both his protean character and historical circumstances. I read the second inaugural address as an expression of the historical Lincoln. The war changed his mind and his democratic faith. Thus, while his second inaugural may be used as a model for thinking about democracy, it does not define the essential Lincoln.
Overall, I think Deneen exaggerates both the necessity of religion in unraveling the human condition and the optimism of secular liberal progressives and postmodern perspectivists. Furthermore, noticeably absent from the debate is a major existentialist democratic voice (Albert Camus), the central democratic philosopher of our time (Jürgen Habermas), and today's preeminent democratic realist (Danilo Zolo).
Deneen's hermeneutic approach also raises questions. He consistently portrays the thought of “democratic optimists” as clear and straightforward. Yet the true wisdom of Plato, Tocqueville, and Lincoln lies hidden and must be carefully illuminated in typical Straussian fashion. Their true teachings can only be found in the submerged subtext and interstices of their work, while those thinkers he is critical of have no real hermeneutic depth. Their ideas are transparent and flawed.
It should also be noted that while this book will resonate with Americans, most Europeans will not find it convincing. The very success of post-Christian, secular social democracy in Europe refutes many of his arguments. The majority of Europeans have historically worked through political utopianism and Christian realism to emerge with very progressive, effective, and balanced models of democracy.
Finally, Aristotle should be acknowledged as a major voice in any debate on democratic political theory, more so than Plato. Aristotle's qualified affirmation of democratic judgment, his defense of democracy as a key element in a more complex constitutional mix, his conception of citizenship as action, and his emphasis upon moderation occupy the prudent middle ground in between progressive optimism and conservative realism. It is a shame that Deneen fails to recognize Aristotle's insights and contributions to democratic theory.
