A friend of mine, a young sensitive soul, but old enough to know better, fancies herself an anarchist. She’s a fan of Noam Chomsky. Chomsky is an intellectual who calls himself a libertarian but who in fact is a Platonist and a friend to every leftist who walked this ancient planet. My friend says in a facebook rant that, “Democracy is dead!” and “How can a libertarian believe in government? Do you think democracy can produce any kind of libertarian society within itself? There is always a force maintaining control while keeping many groups down.”

Well, does this in anyway define what democracy is? Freedom of choice, individual sovereignty and property rights are not only democratic rights, a monarchy or other autocracies could offer these rights as well. Democracy is a method of government and if a democrat believes that the majority can take whatever they want as long as they win fair and square he is as immoral as the leader of a democratic lynch mob who in fact lynches an innocent human being. The majority cannot sacrafice the individual to its ends. The most important feature of modern democracy is firing the (elected) boss or bosses without civil violence.

There’s an old saw out there, often attributed to Churchill, but not likely his, which goes, “The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with an average voter.” Actually, Churchill had great respect for voters.  They are often wrong, but mostly get it right; however, freedom of speech is for people we disagree with, not to protect the 70% who disagree with the truckers’ Freedom Convoy, the idealists’ Occupy Wall Street movement or any other peaceful dissenters who gather to show their frustration. The disenfranchised have a right to civil action in a society that calls itself free. Are they inconvenient, marginal and annoying? Of course, that's why they are out on the streets.

My friend, like many in the political class suffers from the duplicity of attacking the very entity which protects her. She scoffs at this and claims she is in fact persecuted. She has a fuzzy philosophy like Marcuse’s “freedom is slavery” and “tolerance is intolerance!”, but a point I want to make is, every fresh season on this blue and green good earth, liberty must be brought out, dusted off and held anew into the sunlight even against things like the democratic fallacy.

What is there in humankind that we cannot live without the state? Some declare to the world that they will live without fear of their fellow human-beings . . . in peace with every soul, as an anarchist, pacifist, vegetarian. They profess to love their crooked neighbor come what may.

If you live alone and without property, entitlement or wealth, i.e., if you are young, naïve—pretty in the city and cool in the rural—this ridiculous political position is surprisingly tenable. You might even get the St Francis of Assisi thumbs up for idealism. What if you made the same claim and had family and property worth fighting for, or in a word, “things” apart from yourself to preserve. Let’s also add that you reside in one of the outstanding Western Democracies and your human rights are protected with force by a strong national government. In this way, you cheat in the argument: pacifism as an ideal can be truly attained in all its genuine meaning as a world-acclaimed principle only if it is accompanied with rational anarchy. In a place without a state, without borders, you claim, (family, property, wealth at your stead), that you will not fight come what may, and will make any Chamberlain appeasement to avoid it. Your vulnerability is once apparent to even the most ardent modern pacifist. You have the Magnificent Seven problem of out-riders from the steppe which has plagued all of human history for the last 30,000 years and as is happening today in the Ukraine by Russia. That’s why Bertrand Russell changed his mind about it as WWII approached, and unfortunately, changed it back again over the threat of nuclear holocaust.

You see a solution to this conundrum. You, inside a collective pacifist-community, will have enough prosperity to share with encroachers, i.e., to have them stay on the steppes (to pay rent as it were). In this exact manner, you have again side-stepped, not only the greater point, but a "A Standing Rule to Live By” and made the world a more violent place. As I have stated elsewhere, and to brutally paraphrase Karl Popper, the most important feature of modern democracy is that we can fire the boss without violence. 

In our evolution, we weeded out the monkey within, violently, but not 100 percent. Among us, often completely hidden, lies a tiny minority of psychopaths, Machiavellian  miscreants awaiting to become free-riders, bullies, dictators, and self-deceivers.  If you stand in the wilderness (loving family behind you) and will not fight for them or theirs, someone will take them from you; in fact, your only chance to keep the monsters away is to be ready with overwhelming lethal force when they ride over the steppe into your valley. Now, by logical extension, I mean that we desperately need a strong national defense and especially organizations like NATO and other alliances to protect national integrity, in particular, from nuclear proliferation in places like irrational theocratic states. I’ve heard detractors of Western Democracies blathering to their eternal enemies, driving them into comatose insensibility by writing a thousand and one books against imperialism, and by consequence, supporting the Lenin’s and Mussolini’s of the globe. Should we let autocracies, theocracies, and outright rogue nations, get nuclear arms? Too late in the case of Pakistan but not so with others.

I often make the case for a night-watchman state: for this set of beliefs allows the state as a necessary evil to protect its borders from invaders, to render forth justice (i.e., strong law and order to protect its citizens from criminals) and the establishment of equal human rights for all people without regards to skin color, ethnic origin, gender, sexual orientation, mental problems, language, locale, nation, height, weight or any other such superficial traits, that, and almost nothing else. In any case, the trouble with anarchy, is the trouble of the steppes, and I don’t see how you get around this without armies and alliances among the democracies. If we weren’t under the umbrella of American protection, Russia would have by this point thrown itself at Canada’s resource-rich northern borders as it is threatening to do with all of its other neighbors. We are one small appeasement away from encouraging a criminal state to go after its neighbor’s wealth and I pray the democracies will not stand for it. This is the rule: Fight for freedom or lose it! Certainly sending someone like Trump to the Whitehouse might signal the beginning of that appeasement process in regards to Russia; remember the appeasers in WWII England for a whole decade of pacification not only feared Hitler and Mussolini, but admired them, helping them become emboldened. Only one person in the whole of Europe wanted to fight and that was Hitler. That's all it takes. Given the choice between anarchy and Leviathan, I believe the people will always pick Thomas Hobbes's choice and not Jean-Jacques Rouseau's, if they remember at all humanity's bloody sorted history.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
 
The sun was shining on the sea,

Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

The billows smooth and bright—

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night.

 
The moon was shining sulkily,

Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

After the day was done—

"It's very rude of him," she said,

"To come and spoil the fun!"

 
The sea was wet as wet could be,

The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead—

There were no birds to fly.

 
The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

Such quantities of sand:

"If this were only cleared away,"

They said, "it would be grand!"

 
"If seven maids with seven mops

Swept it for half a year.

Do you suppose," the Walrus said,

"That they could get it clear?"

"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,

And shed a bitter tear.

 
"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"

The Walrus did beseech.

"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,

Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,

To give a hand to each."

 
The eldest Oyster looked at him,

But never a word he said:

The eldest Oyster winked his eye,

And shook his heavy head--

Meaning to say he did not choose

To leave the oyster-bed.

 
But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat:

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

Their shoes were clean and neat—

And this was odd, because, you know,

They hadn't any feet.

 
Four other Oysters followed them,

And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

And more, and more, and more—

All hopping through the frothy waves,

And scrambling to the shore.

 
The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

And waited in a row.

 
"The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:

Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—

Of cabbages—and kings—

And why the sea is boiling hot—

And whether pigs have wings."

 
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,

"Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

And all of us are fat!"

"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that.

 
"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,

"Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

Are very good indeed—

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

We can begin to feed."

 
"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,

Turning a little blue.

"After such kindness, that would be

A dismal thing to do!"

"The night is fine," the Walrus said.

"Do you admire the view?

 
"It was so kind of you to come!

And you are very nice!"

The Carpenter said nothing but

"Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf—

I've had to ask you twice!"

 
"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,

"To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

And made them trot so quick!"

The Carpenter said nothing but

"The butter's spread too thick!"

 
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:

"I deeply sympathize."

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

Before his streaming eyes.

 
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,

"You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

But answer came there none—

And this was scarcely odd, because

Th
ey'd eaten every one.