The history and the nature of “partisanship”

Political parties as we know them today evolved in fits and starts. In England, they began as collections of what we would call today “interest groups”. Rather than defending a particular ideology or political theory, they defended the power of one social institution versus another. The Tories supported royal power and the Church of England, and drew their followers from the gentry. The Whigs favoured constitutional monarchy and limits on royal power, and drew their support from the upper aristocracy and “dissenters” (i.e. non-Anglican Protestants and Catholics).

In a sense, the contest between the Whigs and the Tories was merely an extension of the centuries-old power struggle between monarchs and the aristocracy for control of the state which had characterized European politics since Charlemagne. This struggle resulted in a different equilibrium in different places. In England, the Magna Carta ensured a strong aristocracy and a (relatively) weak monarch. In Germany, the Holy Roman Emperor was primarily a figurehead with little real power beyond what the German princes were willing to give him. In France, the aristocracy was once so strong that the “King of the Franks” was weaker than many of his barons and could not control his own domains in Île-de-France. However, beginning with Louis IX a process of consolidation began, accelerating under Richelieu and Louis XIV (the Sun King) and leading France to become the paradigmatic example of absolute monarchy and centralisation. Plus ça change…

Politics functioned differently in a time where movement from one place to another was slow and difficult, if it was not legally prohibited (e.g. serfdom). There was no sense of Country X as a unified society pursuing common ideals of justice and prosperity. Identities were local and class-based. Politics was a naked power struggle between localities and interest groups. One feudal domain would often go to war against another, even though both were nominally subject to the same king. Eventually palace intrigue supplanted open violence, giving rise to the adage that politics is war conducted by other means…

The English Westminster system still retains many of the features impressed upon it by these realities. The propertied commoners elected representatives on a local basis to defend their interests in London (the House of Commons). The aristocracy had a chamber of its own in which seats were held on a hereditary basis (the House of Lords). And the King sat in Parliament, whose acts had no force without his royal assent. The lower classes, of course, had no direct representation…

The first political parties to emerge in the elected assemblies that slowly appeared all over Europe during the late Middle-Ages were not ideological entities. They were combinations of local and sectional interests who cooperated to bring about mutually desirable outcomes. These goals were not pursued on the basis of political “values” in the modern sense, but out of naked self-interest or religious conviction. In this climate, “partisanship” meant a kind of tribalism; this is why George Washington decried it in his last address to the nation before leaving office.

In some ways, this dynamic is still present in modern U.S. politics. People often speak of the two main parties as “coalitions” of various interest groups cooperating to achieve political power. The Democratic Party is comprised of African-Americans, low-income whites and latinos, and the educated elite of various large cities. The GOP is made up of evangelicals and other groups of the highly religious, small business-owners, the upper middle-class and small-government types. Layered on top of these smaller divisions is the classic (if slowly fading) North-South dynamic left over from the 19th Century struggles over slavery.

Both parties have historically tended to be quite heterogeneous in ideological terms, especially when compared to European parties. This has to do with the sheer size of the U.S. when compared to most European states. With the advent of modern transportation and mass-media, countries like France and Germany were quickly collapsed into relatively small cultural and geographic spaces. Local and regional identities faded, and politics became a debate over the proper use of political power in relation to common ideals, rather than a naked power struggle. In the U.S., even with technological advancements, the sheer size and cultural diversity of the country prevented the kind of homogenisation that occurred in European states. While we often speak of an American “melting-pot”, and while it’s true that most Americans share the same (very abstract) identity, local and class identities remain very strong (witness Sarah Palin’s references to “real Americans”). Only now, after decades of mass culture and a mobile population, are we beginning to see the two-party system fall into some kind of ideological alignment. And even then, regional disparities between the Old South and the rest of the country remain very strong.

Politics in a unified and relatively homogenous state functions somewhat differently. Although European elected assemblies began their lives as fora for local and sectional disputes over the direction of national policy, centuries of shared political consciousness and administrative centralization have watered down that dynamic. Political debates since the late 19th Century have revolved around competing political ideologies, and this has had a profound impact on the way politics is conducted. While some of these ideologies were obviously intended to benefit one class over others (e.g. Marxism), the very concept of an ideology changes the nature of the contest. No longer is it a power struggle to obtain benefits for one’s “tribe”; it becomes a debate over the principles that should guide state action, a debate over the very purpose of the state itself. In a power struggle, one attempts to build alliances by exchanging quid pro quos. In a debate, one attempts to persuade based on commonly held values and principles of reason.

This brings me, finally, to the nature of “partisanship”. Partisanship in a power struggle is merely a form of tribalism. Partisan action in such a contest is unmoored from any kind of principle or ethical framework. The issue is not how the state is governed but rather who is governing it. However, partisanship in a debate-framework functions differently. One joins a party because its social vision appeals to one’s own values and sense of how the state should be governed. “Partisanship” in that context is merely a principled defence of ideals and empirical beliefs against a competing vision.

In his post, Brendan is more or less restating Mill’s argument in favour of free speech in On Liberty. Free debate and discussion creates an environment in which selective pressures operate to weed out bad ideas and promote good ones. I certainly agree with that. But his endorsement of “partisanship” assumes the existence of a certain type of political dynamic. Modern politics is a mixture of power struggle and debate, to varying degrees. When the prevailing dynamic is the power struggle, partisanship can be extremely pernicious. It works to break down the common bonds that unite all members of the polity and emphasise narrower interests. The old aristocracies don’t exist anymore, but think of “identity politics” and you’ll see what I mean. In the Canadian context, the Bloc Québécois represents the most pernicious type of partisanship. It is naked tribalism: the founding premise of the party is to deny that francophone Quebeckers share a common public sphere with other Canadians, and that only ad hoc cooperation based on quid pro quo is possible.

I certainly agree that vigorous debate over the merits of policy is a good thing. But I also think that people instinctively feel the dangers lurking behind this kind of principled partisanship. One reason why Obama’s message of “post-partisanship” is so appealing to Americans is that they realise that the GOP/Karl Rove-brand of partisanship, with its wedge issues and identity politics, simply amplifies divisions rather than attempting to find common ground on which to develop solutions. This is a destructive dynamic that impedes, rather than aids, the creation of good policy, and should be discouraged.