“In elections, as in all other manifestations of social life, those who have the will and, especially, the moral, intellectual and material means to force their will upon others take the lead over the others and command them.” [81]
James Burnham (1905–1987) was an influential American political theorist, professor, and member of the Office of Strategic Services (the predecessor of the CIA) during the Cold War, where he advocated an aggressive strategy against the Soviet Union. An early socialist associated with Leon Trotsky, Burnham broke with the movement over the philosophy of dialectical materialism—which he came to see as an unscientific myth.
This revolt against an illogical and unscientific political philosophy forms the basis of his third book The Machiavellians (1943). In it, he profiles several thinkers in the tradition of the Renaissance political philosopher Niccolò Machiavelli who took as their goal an objective amoral political theory. Most ideologies are built around myths, just as any religion, which obscure the real goal of their movement: power.
Today the myth of humanitarianism—which emerges out of Renaissance humanism—is most influential. Burnham states, “Some people have the naïve opinion that in other countries despotism was established in the name of despotism, that dictators who were in the process of destroying freedom made clear to the people that they were doing just that. Naturally, it never happens that way. The modern despotisms have all marched to the tune of ‘the workers’ or ‘the people.’” [220]
There may be immediate goals (Machiavelli’s goal in The Prince, for example, being the unification of Italy), but ultimately the goal of any political movement is simply power for its own sake. It is only through an amoral scientific investigation of ideology that we parse through these myths, and thus engage in Realpolitik.
The general population, however, is not concerned with these issues—they are satisfied with myths, so long as it comes with material prosperity. Because of this the “clever” foxes (in Machiavelli’s terminology) are able to rise to the top of the hierarchy, usually through deception [53]. At the very least, to be a ruler requires one to convince the masses of your sincere belief in the myth. History and politics is, then, a study of the élites in any society; the masses stick to arguing on the field of fiction, over their collective myths, while the élites operate in the field of power.
Political philosophers have long struggled over this issue, from the “noble lie” of Plato’s Republic to the modern propaganda phenomena. Just as a parent must often lie to their child in order to get them to be safe and healthy, so too must our leaders. But such a system is, obviously, built on rocky foundations. To guard the lie, entry to the élites must be restrictive. Eventually the leaders will be found out and overthrown by new élites (those excluded from the now rigid aristocracy) who will construct their own justification for power to appeal to the masses. Therefore, there is no political utopia—no escape from the constant flux of politics.
I found many of Burnham’s ideas to be compelling, though his argument is overall weak. Though he stresses that the élites dominate politics, it seems to me that they are actually dominated by the masses in being forced to appeal to the myths. If these myths must be upheld to appeal to them, what remains for the élites to exercise power over? One must, also, take into account those truly selfless individuals who often emerge as rulers—though almost exclusively in monarchies where there is no competition for leadership. More than anything, Burnham fails to offer any positive ideas for a political system.
Dan Meyer 