As John Adams’ Federalist Party lost its potency, a party emerged in its stead that would gradually position the government even further to the left than the Federalists wanted – so far leftward that by the end of the twentieth century, centrists would regard democracy as the preferred form of government and even America’s original form. The founders regarded republicanism as a form of government more favorable to happiness than democracy, and certainly the Federalists did too, but the term would lose its potency in the American lexicon. Republicanism recognized the rights innate in every citizen, but the term democracy and rhetoric that included “the rights of the people” tempted a naïve public, which believed the promises of empowerment and inclusion that democracy implied and that up-and-coming Democrats such as Andrew Jackson homilized. Distrustful of what they considered an elite ruling class, Jackson and his followers endeavored to create a populist government, and removing property requirements from the voting franchise was a good place to start. And choosing presidential electors by popular will, effectively altering the nature of the Electoral College, was a good way to start it.
Although elements of democracy had existed in the infant republic, the republic was not democratic. Few people, in fact, fully understood it. For some, democracy represented broadened suffrage. For others, it meant empowerment and greater opportunity. For others still, it would usher in new conventions of equality, however rude these conventions might have been. Registered Democrats, after all, would be the slave owners of the Antebellum Period and would resist civil rights proposals even into the twentieth century, including the Civil Rights Bill of 1964, which passed by the overwhelming consent of the Republican minority.
Massachusetts lawyer James Otis called democracy a “government of all over all,” in which “the votes of the majority shall be taken as the voice of the whole.”1 Such a form of government would ignore the rights of the minority. Lax voting requirements, John Adams predicted, would mean “new claims will arise.”2 The uninformed and impassioned would demand a voice equal to that of the prudent and virtuous, or of a disinterested “body of citizens, whose wisdom may best determine the true interest of their country, and whose patriotism and love of justice will be least likely to sacrifice it to temporary or partial considerations.”3
But Democratic politicians discovered that they could exploit the lure of franchise and political clout with lofty egalitarian hyperbole that equated popular government with self-government and, in time, the common good with wealth redistribution. Jackson’s ascent to the presidency coincided with the transformation of the word democracy from a pejorative to a term more meaningful to the multitudes. As they watched the rising popularity of democracy in dismay, Whigs lamented the gradual dismantling of the country’s traditional structures of authority and harmony. Theologian Timothy Dwight predicted that the upheavals of radical democracy would lead to “the loss of national honor, the immense plunder of public and private property, the conflagration of churches and dwellings, the total ruin of families, the butchery of great multitudes of fathers and sons, and the most deplorable dishonor of wives and daughters.” Federalist congressman Fisher Ames conjured an even bleaker dystopian future when he said, “We mark the barbarous dissonance of mingled rage and triumph in an infatuated mob.”4
Democrats “have classified the rich and intelligent and denounced them as aristocrats,” the Richmond Whig declared. “They have caressed, soothed, and flattered the heavy class of the poor and ignorant, because they held the power which they wanted.” Whigs perceived a deliberate attempt to upend the political foundation that the framers had lain. “The Republic has degenerated into a Democracy,” the Richmond paper lamented.5
1. Quoted from Sean Wilentz, The Rise of American Democracy: Jefferson to Lincoln (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2005) xvii-xviii.
2. Quoted from Wilentz, The Rise of American Democracy, 9.
3. James Madison to the People of the State of New York, November 22, 1787, Daily Advertiser, The Utility of the Union as a Safeguard Against Domestic Faction and Insurrection (continued) (Federalist 10).
4. Quoted from Ross Barrett, Rendering Violence: Riots, Strikes, and Upheaval in Nineteenth-Century American Art (Oakland: University of California Press, 2014) 32.
5. Quoted from Wilentz, The Rise of American Democracy, 425.
Although elements of democracy had existed in the infant republic, the republic was not democratic. Few people, in fact, fully understood it. For some, democracy represented broadened suffrage. For others, it meant empowerment and greater opportunity. For others still, it would usher in new conventions of equality, however rude these conventions might have been. Registered Democrats, after all, would be the slave owners of the Antebellum Period and would resist civil rights proposals even into the twentieth century, including the Civil Rights Bill of 1964, which passed by the overwhelming consent of the Republican minority.
Massachusetts lawyer James Otis called democracy a “government of all over all,” in which “the votes of the majority shall be taken as the voice of the whole.”1 Such a form of government would ignore the rights of the minority. Lax voting requirements, John Adams predicted, would mean “new claims will arise.”2 The uninformed and impassioned would demand a voice equal to that of the prudent and virtuous, or of a disinterested “body of citizens, whose wisdom may best determine the true interest of their country, and whose patriotism and love of justice will be least likely to sacrifice it to temporary or partial considerations.”3
But Democratic politicians discovered that they could exploit the lure of franchise and political clout with lofty egalitarian hyperbole that equated popular government with self-government and, in time, the common good with wealth redistribution. Jackson’s ascent to the presidency coincided with the transformation of the word democracy from a pejorative to a term more meaningful to the multitudes. As they watched the rising popularity of democracy in dismay, Whigs lamented the gradual dismantling of the country’s traditional structures of authority and harmony. Theologian Timothy Dwight predicted that the upheavals of radical democracy would lead to “the loss of national honor, the immense plunder of public and private property, the conflagration of churches and dwellings, the total ruin of families, the butchery of great multitudes of fathers and sons, and the most deplorable dishonor of wives and daughters.” Federalist congressman Fisher Ames conjured an even bleaker dystopian future when he said, “We mark the barbarous dissonance of mingled rage and triumph in an infatuated mob.”4
Democrats “have classified the rich and intelligent and denounced them as aristocrats,” the Richmond Whig declared. “They have caressed, soothed, and flattered the heavy class of the poor and ignorant, because they held the power which they wanted.” Whigs perceived a deliberate attempt to upend the political foundation that the framers had lain. “The Republic has degenerated into a Democracy,” the Richmond paper lamented.5
1. Quoted from Sean Wilentz, The Rise of American Democracy: Jefferson to Lincoln (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2005) xvii-xviii.
2. Quoted from Wilentz, The Rise of American Democracy, 9.
3. James Madison to the People of the State of New York, November 22, 1787, Daily Advertiser, The Utility of the Union as a Safeguard Against Domestic Faction and Insurrection (continued) (Federalist 10).
4. Quoted from Ross Barrett, Rendering Violence: Riots, Strikes, and Upheaval in Nineteenth-Century American Art (Oakland: University of California Press, 2014) 32.
5. Quoted from Wilentz, The Rise of American Democracy, 425.