Pale Horse, Pale Rider. A Democracy in Decay?

Is Ross Perot a threat to the Republic? Right worry, wrong question. It isn’t whether Perot is going to overthrow the Republic but whether the American Republic is slowly going Banana.

“Authoritarian,” “eccentric” and “dic tatorial” are some of the nicer words used to describe the Texas billionaire who may well be the next President of the United States. All this scare talk about Perot is a bit premature. Most Americans, including most pundits, don’t know enough about him to make such grave charges. But if Perot remains an unknown, the hunger on which his candidacy feeds--for a charismatic outsider to clean up the political mess--is familiar. That hunger--which has shaped every presidential campaign since Jimmy Carter won in 1976--has become the dominant force in U.S. presidential politics, and, regardless of what one thinks of Perot, that hunger raises warning flags about the health of American democracy.

The hunger for an outsider is like the craving for drugs. Carter gave a brief rush but, by 1980, he had worn off, and we wanted a stronger dose. Ronald Reagan offered it, and won. Reagan’s magic won him reelection, but his popularity was waning by the end of his second term. Now, four years of George Bush leaves voters starved for something new. Bill Clinton can’t fill the bill: Enter Perot. More of an outsider than Carter or Reagan, he not only rejects the leadership of Congress and the executive branch, he is turning against the two-party system itself as the symbol of everything wrong in America. In drug terms, Carter was marijuana, Reagan was cocaine, Bush is oregano and Perot is crack.

With 83% of Americans telling pollsters they believe the country is “on the wrong track,” it is clear that politicians have lost the public’s faith. Washington is a den of thieves, people say. Our represen tative democracy is a sham. We feel we have lost control of office holders--hence term limitations, hence the pervasive suspicion of incumbents. It is ironic that, as the European countries emerging from communism grope toward a brighter future, they embrace a system that, increasingly, Americans believe to be failing. After all, criticisms that more and more Americans make about our two-party system--that it is controlled by special interests, that its choices are bogus and that its democracy is more symbolic than real--are the kind of thing Radio Moscow used to say.

So, we are giving up on institutions, and looking for a political messiah--someone to ride in out of the wilderness and save us. The love of the Lone Ranger is a basic part of American culture, but until recently it has not played a major role in our politics. Washington and Dodge City were different places--in one, disputes were settled by negotiation; in the other, they were settled on the street at high noon.

A basic change--and a dangerous one--is taking place. Historically, our government was one of laws and not of men. Our ancestors prided themselves on the ability of our institutions to function despite the succession of mediocre Presidents and reasonably corrupt Congresses that filled most of our history. Now we have lost faith in our institutions and laws, and we call for a government of men--especially, of the Right Man.

The United States used to look down on countries with politics like this. The great example was 19th-Century France, which had overthrown its kings but was not quite ready for democracy. In 1848, the French grew impatient with their young republic. Their answer? Louis Napoleon, a distant relative of the great emperor. Louis Napoleon was an unknown, he had passed much of his life in the United States and had not lived in France--except for brief periods of imprisonment--for much of his adult life.

This was an advantage to a French electorate weary of the compromises and corruption of more familiar politicians. They elected the unknown to the presidency--and watched him convert it into an empire, with himself as emperor. Corruption flourished as never before; political liberties were suppressed and prominent cultural figures like Victor Hugo were exiled. The new emperor even had a program a little like Perot’s. He preferred to settle major policy issues by referendum rather than through the established political process.

Napoleon III, as he called himself, ultimately led France into the disastrous Franco-Prussian War--by which France lost Alsace-Lorraine and Napoleon lost his throne. A new republic was established, but France still yearned from time to time for men on horseback. Gen. Georges Ernest Boulanger almost overthrew the new republic; Marshal Philippe Petain established an initially popular dictatorship after France’s defeat in 1940, and as late as the 1950s, an obscure political newcomer almost overthrew the government on a wave of discontent.

France’s love of heroes has not always been disastrous. Charles de Gaulle, the greatest French leader since Napoleon I, was unknown to most of the French when he assumed leadership of the Resistance in World War II. Possibly we will be this lucky with Perot--and the Lone Rangers still to come when Perot rides back into the sagebrush. Possibly not.

Some compare Perot to Juan Peron, the Argentine dictator who combined populism, economic nationalism and militarism. Peron, like Perot, drew his support from across the political spectrum. There were Communist Peronists, Nazi Peronists and every shading in between. Perot shares Peron’s appeal across the somewhat tamer spectrum of U.S. politics: prominent liberals and conservatives are jockeying for places in his entourage.

Other countries show us patterns even more disturbing. In Latin America, people grown cynical--with good cause--about civilian politicians often turn to the military--perceived as a national institution untouched by the corruption of politics. It is a little like turning the city over to Daryl F. Gates because one doesn’t trust the City Council.

Within living memory, the United States believed it was immune to these diseases of political life. Our politicians, however crooked, were responsive enough to voters so that most people retained faith in the system. It is a damning indictment of both parties that they have so far lost the trust of the people that millions of Americans now despair of change through their agencies.

This is not meant as personal criticism of Perot. He could not cure our dissatisfaction with democracy by being more liberal or more conservative. He could be a flash in the pan like Boulanger; he could be a demagogue like Napoleon III; he could be a charismatic outsider who renews a troubled society like de Gaulle. Time alone will tell.

But the disease in U.S. political life, of which his independent candidacy is a symptom, will not go away. Alienation and cynicism about our system of representative democracy have spread through American society for the last generation. Our politicians and cultural leaders are unable or unwilling to make necessary reforms. The elites are unable to govern, and the grass roots, so far, are unable to raise up a democratic opposition. It is hard to conceive of a more disquieting state of affairs in the world’s leading democracy.