Requiem for Liberal Democracy
Crackdowns on the right to protest are only the tip of the iceberg
I don’t know if I was ever proud to be British — but for a long time, I was grateful.
Our sense of patriotism is much less overt than our American cousin’s (I’ve never once formally Pledged my Allegiance), but a not-so-subtle sense of superiority was bred into us from a young age.
At school, we‘re taught about Nazis and Soviets — warmongering fascists who committed endless atrocities, often against their own people. We learned about countries like China, one-party dictatorships without a free press or open Internet access.
By contrast, we in Britain — in the West in general — were different. We were liberal, liberated, liberators. It wasn’t said outright, but the message was clear: there are good places, and there are bad places.
We were in a good place.
Whilst hatefully arrogant and reductionist, it’s not like this was entirely untrue: life in democratic Britain of course affords numerous securities, benefits, and freedoms that are missing elsewhere in the world. But to say things could be worse obscures the idea that things could be better.
Looking at the country right now, this is more clear than ever.
Sarah Everard’s murder should have helped give women a voice — instead, we’ve all been silenced.
On March 3rd 2021, 33-year old Sarah Everard vanished whilst walking home from a friend’s house in south London. Six days later, her remains were identified, and a Metropolitan police officer was charged with her kidnap and murder.
In the wake of these tragic events, women across the UK have spoken out about their experiences of feeling unsafe in public places. The message was clear: we’re tired of being targeted. We’re tired of living in fear. We’re tired of shouldering the responsibility.
Something needs to be done.
However, what should have been a profound wake-up call for those in power to do something about the problem of male violence against women quickly turned into one of the biggest affronts to liberty we’ve seen all year.
Reclaim These Streets — an organisation set up to channel the collective grief created by Sarah’s murder — attempted to set up a vigil in Clapham Common. Despite initial co-operation from the Metropolitan Police, organisers were eventually told that holding the vigil would be unlawful in light of Covid-19 restrictions, and they would face tens of thousands of pounds in fines, plus criminal prosecution under the Serious Crimes Act.
The vigil was officially called off, but hundreds of people still turned up on Clapham Common on Saturday 13th March to pay tribute and raise awareness. Unfortunately, the peaceful event soon descended into chaos as police clashed with mourners, and made several arrests.
The Met’s heavy-handedness has since come under fire from politicians, citizens, and activists alike, with calls for Commissioner Cressida Dick to resign. (She wouldn’t).
Then things got worse.
Draconian legislation
On March 16th, MPs debated the proposed Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Bill, a lengthy piece of legislation that, among other things, dramatically increases police powers when it comes to protests.
Under the new bill, police can impose restrictions if noise from a protest “may result in serious disruption to the activities of an organisation which are carried on in the vicinity”. It also makes an offense of out of “intentionally or recklessly causing public nuisance”, such as by “obstructing the public”. Aren’t those inevitable byproducts — and probably the goals — of any protest?
There are also criminal penalties for acts that cause “serious annoyance”.
Unsurprisingly, the draconian bill has been met with intense backlash from politicians and human rights groups.
The Good Law Project have noted:
As drafted, the Bill represents a serious threat to the right to protest. The provisions threaten to neuter protests in ways that would render them ineffective — effectively taking away one of the only ways in which people can express their dissatisfaction in a democratic society.
In other words, the PCSCB bill seems to be a pretty direct attempt to silence dissent. It’s wholly undemocratic, and yet the majority of MPs backed the bill, meaning it’s one step closer to becoming law.
Can we honestly say this is still a good place?
The (end of) the Golden Age of Liberal Democracy
During the first semester of my undergrad political science program, we studied a well-known political text called The End of History and The Last Man by American political scientist Francis Fukuyama.
Written after the dissolution of the Soviet Union and end of the Cold War, it argues that mankind had reached the end-point of its ideological evolution. Not only had Western liberal democracy won, but it was ‘the final form of human government’.
You could write a book in trying to define a liberal democracy — and many have — but the core characteristics are fairly simple. Liberal democracies seek firstly to limit the power of governments, and hold them accountable — that’s why they hold regular elections with secret ballots, and are structured around a separation of powers. Secondly, they seek to protect the rights of individuals by protecting in law freedoms of speech, press, religion, and assembly.
As much as I stood by those principles, I’d thought Fukuyama’s declaration was dangerously overconfident. I’d grown up enough to know that our liberal democracy was sometimes more of an illusion than a reality, feeding off double standards, cultural imperialism, and the manufacturing of consent.
I remembered the poem my philosophy teacher used to quote:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains.
Percy Shelley’s famous sonnet warns us that even the greatest of men, the greatest of empires, can fall. No power, ideology, or system is permanent.
By 2017, amidst the political turmoil of Brexit and Donald Trump, Fukuyama himself was fearful for the future of liberal democracy.
Twenty-five years ago, I didn’t have a sense or a theory about how democracies can go backward. And I think they clearly can.— Francis Fukuyama, speaking to the Washington Post
Fukuyama points to small seeds of corruption — populism and right-wing nationalism — that have blossomed into larger, serious threats to liberal democracy. He’s not wrong, but I’d argue we began shifting the goalposts of what constitutes a liberal democracy far before those influences took hold.
Democratic backsliding
As shocking and significant as this past fortnight’s events have been, they’re part of something much bigger.
Really, they are symptoms of democratic backsliding, a phenomenon that describes a decline in the quality of a democracy, or deterioration of the qualities associated with democratic rule. Crucially, backsliding can occur through a ‘discontinuous series of incremental actions’, not just a dramatic one-off coup.
It’s a boiling frog scenario.
And sure enough, crackdowns on our rights to protest are not the only challenge to liberal democratic values we’re facing right now.
The Pandemic Backsliding Project tracks state responses to Covid-19, and the potential toll on democracy within a country. As of December 2020, most countries — including democratic states — have committed some sort of violation against democratic standards.
For the better part of a year, the UK has been in lockdown. Public places, schools, and businesses have been closed; socialising outside of your legally sanctioned social bubble has become a criminal offense.
Given the pandemic situation, these restrictions have been in the greater public interest. Desperate times call for desperate measures — like blackouts during the Blitz.
But what precedents have we set for the power of the government to dictate the day-to-day activity of individuals and private businesses? How do we ensure the return of our civil liberties once COVID-19 is no longer a clear and present danger?
Lord Sumpton, QC, Former Justice of the Supreme court, has become (in)famous for his criticisms of the lockdown. His concerns stem in part from the lack of parliamentary scrutiny that has accompanied the implementation of extraordinary measures.
This is not about questioning the scientific validity and medical necessity of lockdowns, but rather raising important concerns about the ways we are ruled.
Sumpton notes:
I believe that in the long run the principles on which we are governed matter more than the way that we deal with any particular crisis. They are particularly important in a country like ours in which many basic rights and liberties depend on convention. They depend on a recognition not just that the government must act within its powers, but that not everything that a government is legally entitled to do is legitimate. — Lord Sumpton, writing for The Spectator (emphasis mine)
Although extreme restrictions during the pandemic may be seen as justified, the fact remains that the government has exercised incredible powers over the basic civil liberties of all people — and retains that power. In light of recent events and proposed bills, we have to ask whether we‘re comfortable with our government holding these unquestionable powers — now, or in the future.
Where do we go from here?
The next few months will be critical in shaping our (un)democratic future.
Later in March, the Coronavirus Act is up for renewal. This controversial legislation, passed in a single day back in March 2020, gave the government unprecedented emergency powers in light of the pandemic — including the right to postpone elections, close borders, prevent mass gatherings, and detain anyone deemed “potentially infectious”. This was the largest expansion of executive power over the individual seen in peacetime, and we need to ensure that our fundamental liberties are not permanently eroded due to national crisis.
As more and more of the population are eligible to receive a coronavirus vaccine, ethical concerns have also arisen over the implementation of immunity passports. Lawyers and human rights advocates have argued that even voluntary passports could lead to discrimination, or pave the way for a full ID system.
As much as we have looked for solutions to mitigate the damage inflicted by COVID-19, we need to be mindful of the dangers we’re (inadvertently?) posing to democracy — these will be with us long after the pandemic ends.
If anything is clear from recent events, it’s that true democracy is no longer a thing we can take for granted.
Decisive efforts have been made to make our voices much quieter.
As I look at the world right now, I’m reminded of another piece of poetry, the final stanza of T. S. Eliot's ‘The Hollow Men.’
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper
Heaven forbid that whimper is loud enough to annoy anyone.
