Democracy Before Democracy? - Yves Schemeil
Democracy Before Democracy? - Yves Schemeil
Democracy Before Democracy? - Yves Schemeil
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InternationalPolitical ScienceReview (2000), Vol. 21, No. 2, 99-120
YVESSCHEMEIL
Introduction
Historians of political thought usually take for granted a chronology of their disci-
pline that starts with Athena. Although "politics and the bible" is an academic issue
for a small group of American political scientists, the great distinction made by Erik
Voegelin between "compact" and "differentiated" civilizations has been much
debated in the scientific community (Voegelin, 1956).1 Then S.N. Eisenstadt
popularized Voegelin's intellectual breakthrough in what appeared to be a reword-
ing of Karl Jasper's concept of "axial societies" (Eisenstadt, 1986).
Subsequently, Martin Bernal's Black Athena was an important, well documented-
and splendid attempt to reach the point where the river of political ideas branched
off, giving birth to an "Oriental" and a "Western" philosophy (Bernal, 1987).
However, this research was too far-reaching. Greece's roots were now traced to
Africa, whose semiotic and spiritual inventions had been channelled to the Aegean
Sea by Egyptian boats. Then, Patricia Springborg explained how the matriarchal
0192-5121 (2000/02) 21:2, 99-120; 011975 ( 2000 International Political Science Association
SAGEPublications (London, Thousand Oaks, CAand New Delhi)
100 International
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ballots. In both cases, procedures are complex enough to deter potential cheating,
and measures such as ostracism, well known in Greece, limit ambitions to political
careers.5 The executive, legislatures and judiciary are split up into several bodies
(the two Lacedemonian kings, the numerous Athenian courts, the superposition of
councils such as boule,ekklesia,the prytans, the ephors, etc.). Since there is no
bureaucracy, the city is administered at the expense of efficiency.6
Such demands are excessively democratic. They even turn out to be self-contradic-
tory as in Rousseau and Harrington's descriptions of the political process, which
include mechanisms to prevent discussion before voting and decision-making-for
fear of bargaining and compromise-as happened in republican Rome, according
to Moses Finley (Finley, 1983: 85-88). Moreover, since in democracy political
mandates and public functions have time limits (as shown by Adam Przeworsky,
1989), deliberation, when it exists, is strictly limited to short periods, especially
when electoral campaigns take place between sunrise and sunset, and when politi-
cal offices last no more than a year, so that checking accountability takes more time
than do periods of duty.
the cases discussed and prepared (probouleuma) by a smaller council of more respected
magistrates (boule) was missing (ibid.; Finley, 1983). The same was true in Rome,
where citizens turned to divination to postpone decisions and eventually prohibited
assembly meetings on market days in order to reduce attendance (Finley, 1983: 87).
The rationale for such restrictions is clear: multiplying assemblies dilutes power.
Nobody could ever know who would attend an assembly meeting, who would be
appointed to a jury or chair it. No one would have time to organize parties of
supporters (although there are examples of gangs invading courts to impress the
jurors), or opportunities to confront opponents' or accusers' arguments (addressing
them directly was forbidden). No magistrate would impose his will during his short
mandate since any protester could be in office the next year or the next day. This
situation is close to the so-called tyranny of the majority. Besides, there were many
exceptions to the ideal, and these increased as time passed. Military affairs were
the first to be entrusted to competent elected persons who could be reelected (the
strategoi),followed by financial matters. Laws attributed to the founding fathers
(such as Cleisthenes) were collected by a special body of people (the nomothetai)and
citizens saw their competence in the ekklesialimited to decrees and individual or
singular measures (Hansen, 1991/1993, chap. 7).
Compared to institutions and procedures of the polis, Oriental states seem more
consistent and much less manipulated. Above all, they are closer to our own inter-
pretation of what politics was in the classical age.
That is why general elections and political parties were not required in the
Ancient Orient. Elections and majority rules were usual in assemblies, not assess-
ments of political weight of a defeated proposal or person according to the exact
number of votes accruing to them. We can understand ancient peoples' feelings if
we look at American elections: in some communities, results sometimes single out
winners without mentioning their percentage of votes because of the fear that the
loser will be publicly humiliated-a problem unknown in classical Greece, where
"success"depended on the will of the gods. Actually, in contemporary democracies
losers want everyone to learn by what margin they have been defeated, whereas in
Western Asian political systems the winner never took all.
Here lies the main motivation for allowing people to express their views without
deadlines: minorities have more time to make their opinions understood by majori-
ties, which in turn allows the balance of power to change. The Sumerian story of
the Flood mentions a council of gods convening seven times before it too, measures
against humanity; the Egyptian version shows Re consulting his Ennead before
drowning mankind under the Nile. Historical documents describe assemblies of
citizens deliberating for days, each session including new members. When
Mesopotamian elders were unable to agree, they opened their assembly to junior
aristocrats and commoners; if necessary, they also invited women and teenagers to
have their say in the final decision. Assyrian traders in Anatolia dealt with dissent-
ing opinions in a similar way-their assembly divided into three groups which delib-
erated and voted separately before holding a last plenary session where majority
ballots were added up with great sophistication (Larsen, 1976: 28, 319-323).
At each stage, people stoodup and contradicted opponents with rare sincerity
whenever they could point out inconsistency in justifications (such as destroying
human beings although they had been created to alleviate the gods' burden and to
allow them to make a living in politics). Assembly members voted by motions (kneel-
ing, or walking to the speaker, to approve;sitting, to disapprove (Cassin, 1973: 114;
Jacobsen, 1943: 401, n24; Larsen, 1976: 323). Majority votes were often sought and
reached, but it was always possible that minority views would raise the problem
again if its legal solution was a failure. Sometimes the chair had the formidable
privilege of ending discussions. His verdict ("Let it be!") was, nevertheless, a way
of counting votes since he never made any decision before reaching the point in a
debate where every participant had had a chance to address the problem at least
once, and arguments became irrational, redundant, or personal (Jacobsen, 1943,
1957; Evans, 1958). This was closer to a process of mutual adjustment based on
trust, reciprocity, and rational choice than to a system relying on central coordina-
tion through an authoritarian allocation of values. Egypt is the best illustration of
this kind of decision-making process. Although it is sometimes mistakenly thought
of as the very example of a centralized state, it was actually ruled by a pyramid of
councils. The ultimate decision-maker-either the cabinet or the supreme court-
convened on the palace stairs, a place where all opinions expressed by courtiers,
civil servants, and members of the king's inner circle, all of whom met separately
at the building's four corners, could be easily conveyed and explained to the
Pharaoh. He or she then had only to justify and legitimize what seemed to be the
general will in a speech wisely enumerating for the people waiting outside the
motivations of the royal decree (Derchain, 1992; Moreno Garcia, 1997). Such
decrees did not concern only civilian matters-military campaigns were also full of
lively debates on strategy, which sometimes resulted in the amendment of a royal
view, as in Tuthmosis III'sand Rameses II's expeditions to Syria.
SCHEMEIL: Democracy
beforeDemocracy? 105
Lessons can be drawn from the way Egyptians and Mesopotamians multiplied
councils and assemblies of all sorts. First, if democracy is a sort of "government by
discussion" (Manin, 1995: 234ff.), these councils were more democratic than many
modern political regimes and certainly as democratic as the Greek polls. Ancient
Egyptians and Mesopotamians were very talkative, free to say whatever they had
on their minds (sometimes prompting the leader's anger, to no avail since speak-
ers had legal immunity). They were eager to fight endless judicial or political
battles. Second, the distinction between the represented and representatives,
amateurs and professionals, was justified and organized by peoples who never
pretended and never sought to live in a participatory democracy (although the
Greek reality was quite different from the Aristotelian ideal).8 The constraints of
government explained why a particular class of people had to devote time to make
collective decisions and evaluate public policies, learn esoteric sciences (among
which reading was not the easiest), accumulate relevant skills, and replicate on
earth a distinction that existed in the nether world. However, channels also existed
between Heaven and Earth, private and public spheres, masses and elites, slaves
and freemen, citizens and non-citizens, which was a major difference from Greece,
where the boundary between those who had power or property and those who were
deprived of both was very difficult to cross (Finley, 1983).9
Compared to our democratic regimes, Egyptian and Mesopotamian states score
surprisingly well. Suppose democracy is not the royal way to find a rational truth
allegedly discovered after never-ending deliberation but instead relies on accom-
modating dissenting opinions (Manin, 1995: 234-245). Suppose also that voting is
a mere device for ending debate arbitrarily, even in the absence of informed and
well thought out individual choice. Then it is rational to let assemblymen (less often
assemblywomen, although in the ancient Near East they could share in decision-
making where Greek women could not) debate as long as required in order to reach
a turning point where repetitive arguments would make dissenters or the undecided
first, personally humiliated second, increasingly defiant towards a "democracy"
doomed to fail because of secret pre-arrangements between elites. Arguing might
even be a cruel experience for junior members or newly admitted members of the
democratic club because they unavoidably would speak too much, exposing
themselves to pity or ridicule. Participants determined to make every effort possi-
ble to win others to their cause are protected against their will by a mechanism
combining mutual adjustment with an arbiter (for example, a chairman, a king).
What is of most importance for democracy is not a final vote but a set of intelli-
gible justifications for each decision. Such rationalizations constitute a stock of prece-
dents which enable discussions to recur from one session to the next, providing for
likely improvements in decisions and consequently enhancing their support.
Obviously, writing down and making plain every motivation to propose a motion is
easier when deliberative members share sociological or biographical attributes as well
as political or technical experiences (Majone, 1994). This is where comparisons
between the ancient Near East and the Western world are enlightening. In the bibli-
cal world and in post-materialist democracies, many salient issues are solved by a few
"experts" whose proceedings are concealed to the public. The vision of public
measures as the regular outcome of electoral campaigns which select public debaters
for deliberative assemblies is less and less realistic. It is still relevant when experts
are chosen by a majority, when issues are zero-sum games, when traditional compe-
tition is the last resort of dissenting committees, juries, or courts unable to find
consensus. Does this institutional framework differ much from the progressive
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increase in the number of assembly members of lower and lower social rank as in
Oriental civilizations?In a worldwhere economic wealth could be increased by contin-
uous expansion of settlements and long distance trade, decisions were more often
distributive than redistributive.According to Giandomenico Majone this was a case
where experts could make better decisions than representatives (Majone, 1996).
Moreover, consensual decisions are not the ideal goal of public debate. Accord-
ing to Nicholas Rescher, Western philosophers agreed on the necessity of consen-
sus in matters of moral or religious convictions (what he describes as
"metaphysical"), limiting majority rule to "physical"problems (that is, economic
issues). Any individual could veto collective decisions raising problems of identity
and membership'?: if there is any agreement in matters of creed, it relies on
declared "authority."Conversely, in matters of fact, "truth" can be proven (and
refuted as the pace of scientific and economic growth quickens). Such a philosophy
seems grounded when one looks at ordinary people's beliefs; empirical research
shows that there is a general preference for consensus because it alleviates the
psychological and social costs of debate-there are times when we prefer to remain
silent, particularly when we are not supported by at least one other participant in
a discussion. However, the consensus on the necessity of consensus is misleading.
Except for the social benefit of keeping a low profile in matters that raise strong
disagreements, what is the intellectual benefit of discussion when dissenting
opinions are concealed or, worse, suppressed? What sort of legitimacy is attached
to collective decisions when sound arguments have no chance of being heard by
infuriated participants? How can they change their minds after discussion has
started if nobody is able to challenge their views? Allowing debates to last and
involving new participants is a rational means of overcoming these obstacles. Time
provides opportunities to discover sources of disagreement, to find courage to
dissent, to seek support, or to rethink before reconvening. New members bring a
fresh view and make space in which to test new agreements before they crystallize.
A question must be raised before giving such a certificate of democratic excel-
lence to ancient Oriental polities: does the alleged fusion between this world and
the nether world change the picture? If, for God's (or the gods') sake, dissenters
were committed to unanimity, for example, they might substitute a religious truth
with a scientific one and regulate polities according to their desire for social
harmony; they would try to achieve heaven in the present-a heaven without
politics-instead of postponing general reconciliation to Judgment Day. This
"phantasm"of unity (of the political body, of mundane politics and heavenly democ-
racy) is at the root of authoritarian regimes. There power is in the hands of ideolog-
ical or religious priests desperately striving to make life perfect on earth, whereas
all religious messages stress imperfection as the real meaning of this world (Colas,
1991/1997). If this were true of ancient Near Eastern polities, whatever the number
and inclusiveness of their assemblies, participants would unavoidablytry to promote
unity at the cost of liberty. Even in the absence of an authoritarian king they would
be despotic enough to stifle personal opinion and civil society."
But that is not true. First, people could not obtain collective access to heaven:
elaborate tombs paved the way to the nether world for those who individually
deserved it. Second, the two universes were clearly separated, although symmetri-
cal and linked by an invisible ombolos(Eliade, 1991: 33-49). Egyptian pyramids and
Mesopotamian ziggurats were not like the Tower of Babel; however high and
impressive, these kingly domains did not allow whole populations to reach the sky.
Only those who made a living in politics-the king and his courtiers-could hope
SCHEMEIL:
Democracy
beforeDemocracy? 107
for a lift to the stars (Lehner, 1985), although each soul had to travel on its own.
Pyramids were scales between the two or three parallel valleys (the Nile, Euphrates,
or Tigris at this end; their infernal or celestial replicas beneath or above them at
the other). Only individuals could climb them to meet their personal fate, helped
on their way by good angels or sanctified predecessors while trying to solve the
devil's and sphinx's riddles.12On both criteria, ancient Easterners differed from
fanatics: first, parallel worlds never met; second, mediators and sacred images were
not destroyed by iconoclasts (Colas, 1991/1997). There is no documented instance
where public debate seems to have been inspired by religious considerations,
although they did play a great role in legitimizing public decisions. There was no
"religious party" and discussions were pragmatic. Free speech meant not only
freedom to express one's views in public, but also liberty to endorse any opinion,
even a blasphemous one (for example, doubts about God's existence and fairness,
and human immortality), unlike in classical democracies.'3
Lots, elite circulation, consensus, unanimity, and divine help are arrogant devices
that kill democracy by excess of democratic virtue. Designed to turn concrete collec-
tive decisions into the hypothetical common will, they are full of hubris, an evil
condemned everywhere in the ancient world, where it was feared as a curse.'4
Actually, they miss their most democratic goal: helping leaders to limit their own
power, to listen to critics, and to have self-restraint.
A successful political career did not rely on ethnic origins or social class but on
personal capacity, becoming a collective capacity with waves of naturalization
(without war) or democratization (without revolution). Citizens enjoyed privilege
and esteem, rent, salaries, or offerings, protection against need and greed. In some
cities, they paid no taxes and did not serve in the army. In others, they made
donations and fought using their own equipment when necessary (as Greek hoplites
did). Whatever the content and meaning of their privileges they were proud of a
status which gave them reliability in their dealings with social and political partners.
As Roman citizens, according to neo-Roman Italian and British thinkers of the
Renaissance (Skinner, 1998: 1-57), contributing to the glory of the polity was for the
peoples of the ancient Orient the sole means of defending freedom. Citizens had to
display virtutand account for their behaviour in this world as well as in the other.
Some citizens represented their actual constituency as characters painted by a
figurative artist are "representative" of reality. Others were representatives of a
virtual constituency: the group of social climbers and political careerists whose
opinions they expressed to decision-makers, as deputies informing ministers about
the mood of their electors. Finally, there were leaders who specialized in playing
roles on the public scene and impersonating "the eloquent peasant," "the deprived
nobleman," "the misunderstood devotee," "the poor man" in a rich city. Specialized
and distinguished but still rooted in their own history, they fulfilled a major function
of democracy by simulating conflicts which otherwise would have become civil wars.
Those who selected them as their "representatives"stressed their loyalty to a group,
not their capacity for making rational choices. Following Pizzorno (1985), I see in
their attachments a very modern sign of democracy (as a substitute for civil war)
rather than a bias towards classical democracy (as an aggregation of individual
preferences). Even without periodic electoral contests, it was possible to discredit
someone as a true representative of a category or corporate interest, ousting him
immediately from a political position. That could occur in the street, or through
strikes, protests, and demonstrations, all well documented in Egypt and
Mesopotamia. It is worth noting that contentious politics is one of the two modern
components of public judgement in a democracy, according to Bernard Manin
(1995). In our own societies there are many examples of defiance towards repre-
sentatives. Most rank and file democrats refuse independent judgement, although
it is praised by modern democratic theorists. Peasant protesters in western France
forbid declarations of candidacy to union lists, in order to put ordinary competitors
and strong personalities (eloquent or rich farmers and experienced unionists) on
an equal footing. In so doing, they hope to prevent election of the most politically
influential and socially distant from the majority (Duclos, 1998). In the Green
parties of Western Europe, leaders are constantly scrutinized and condemned to
low profile, political careers doomed by complicated procedures sanctioning individ-
ualism (in Britain, Green Party members when elected to a town council must
resign at mid-term even if the position is lost for the party just as they begin to be
proficient in public management; in France, representatives in the "Green Parlia-
ment" must leave their positions before completing their term to the person
immediately following them on the list) (Faucher, 1999).
Moreover, elections do not play the role set for them by eighteenth century
political thinkers, who dreamed of a participatory regime. On the contrary, polls
make explicit mass consent to the rule of the elected few-a revisitation of the
famous medieval Quodomnestangit principle (Manin, 1995: 117-119). For several
years they endow representatives with actual power whereas "we, the people"
SCHEMEIL:
Democracy
beforeDemocracy? 109
Building Hypodemocracy
In search of arbitration and consent rather than general will and consensus, polit-
ical leaders in the ancient Orient soon got rid of lots, vetoes, and even majority
rule, which began the drift towards hypodemocracy. Hypodemocracy is not the
downgraded form ofpoliteia Aristotle called "democracy,"and which we attribute to
Egypt and Mesopotamia while forgetting about Sparta, fourth century Athens, and
imperial Rome, but a rather upgraded type of multiculturalist society where firm
decisions are made and have to be justified post hoc. Of course, actual regimes
fluctuated between the lowest and highest conceptions of a realistic democracy.
Consider the Egyptian professional examination. Modelled on corporatist initia-
tion procedures, it allowed for patronage and nepotism. States eventually became
plagued by clientelism and red tape, and religious functions became sinecures. To
survive in the labyrinth of a growing bureaucracyone had to find intercessors, while
power and wealth percolated from the top to the bottom as in the "Foundation"
system which Egypt and Mesopotamia shared-which is the wakfsystem in Muslim
countries nowadays (Steinkeller, 1987). To be heard in undisciplined assemblies (we
are told of Sumerian law-makers laughing during sessions or trying to catch the
attention of friends), political leaders needed "consultancy"or "divination"(hence
there was a proliferation of nasikuor wizards of all sorts, who had their Athenian
and Roman counterparts). To please or appease people, promises were made (in
the form of endowments of land or tombs), and feasts and games were offered (like
later Greek tragedies, Hellenistic liturgies, and Roman games). In Ramesside
Thebes, Babylonian Mari, or Assurbanipal's Assur, banquets and food distribution
to thousands of guests became necessary steps to political positions.
Votersor Clients?
Even when we look at hypodemocraticprocedures, however, the Romans and Greeks
do not score well against the Egyptians and Mesopotamians. Far from being a gener-
ous and mutual relationship between the few benevolent rich and the many deserv-
ing poor, Roman patronage-a celebrated institution-was soon transformed into
competition between patrons to build a clientele. At best, it became a demonstra-
tive contribution by the former to a social peace threatened by the latter, thanks to
the salutatio(queues of starving clients lined up every morning at villa gates, which
sometimes remained closed) (Saller, 1989: 78, 57-58). Roman patronage was
obviouslythe "politicalmachine" of the time: as Merton (1957) showed in his famous
paper, it helped integrate new citizens. Moreover, it freed slaves, and enfranchised
newcomers while boosting the political careers of ambitious youths who were
protected by powerful pundits (Wallace-Hadrill, 1989: 58-61, 74-77).
SCHEMEIL: Democracy
beforeDemocracy? 11
As early as the end of the fifth century BC, Greek patronage itself ceased to be
the ideal network of admiration, respect and mutual support depicted by Isocrates-
already a sharp departure from Hesiod's warnings to keep a ready-made plough in
stock, to avoid having to borrow one. Instead of the promise of civic interdependence
taken later as a model by French Republicans (Ihl, 1996), privatedependence was the
outcome of this system. Among Greek clients, there were many flatterers (kolax)
and parasites (parasitos)who specialized in "performing trivial services for their
social and material superiors in return for favours." They were entertained daily in
order to check potential moves from political rivals, at the risk of having to offer
hospitality to such burdensome supporters, as in Megara (Millett, 1989: 19-22,
26-27, 30-37). Only "what may be called community patronage, that is, large-scale
private expenditure, whether compulsory or voluntary, for communal purposes-
temples and other public works, theaters and gladiators shows, festivals and feasts-
in return for popular approval" (Finley, 1983: 35) for a while satisfied the criteria
of "community (or public) service" without tax (ibid.: 32-48). However, Greek
"liturgies" quickly became ruinous fights for political support, whereas Roman
elections depended on "assiduous cultivation of key individuals in each tribe who
were in a position to bring out enough voters to guarantee the unitary vote of the
tribe" (ibid.: 48).
Reviewing devices, invented to balance the side-effects of a democratic project so
difficult to implement, point to their collective defects: unfairness to the poor,
threats to the rich-both groups had good reasons not to be fully confident in their
regime. They still do. Britain, although celebrated as the temple of democracy, is
not immune to what would be considered elsewhere restrictive procedures. While
continental rules attract protesters to the polls thanks to the secret ballot, voting
in Britain is more public. Voters openly (and colourfully!) express their preferences;
unclosed voting booths and ballots unfolded in envelopes do not deter them from
going to the polls; people are tolerant of canvassingand telling-allowing party
supporters, first, to find out their intentions before election day; second, verifying
their actual vote by being interviewed when they leave the polling station and
having their name, address, and card number checked. Contrary to what is
prescribed by democratic theory, partisanpersonalopinion is less important than corpo-
rateviews achieved through intensive debates in small face-to-face groups convened
between two plenary sessions (Faucher, 1999, convincingly shows how "pagan"
gatherings or "the Oxford group" speak with one voice in the British Green Party's
meetings).
Acting openly and corporately, the ancient Egyptians' practice was close to the
actual British one. There was, however, a major difference: once competitively
selected from rank and file scribes, a politician no longer represented a group of
fellows; instead he became the spokesman for the nation (kemit), heavily indebted
to fairness and truth (maat in Egypt, kittu and misharuin Mesopotamia), as well as
to personal and collective freedom. This behaviour was due to a pharaonic unity
less contested than in the United Kingdom. The Egyptian "nation" was superior to
vested interests disguised as corporate identities. As in mid-eighteenth-century
England, Egypt was "a community in which the action of the body politic (was)
determined by the will of the members as a whole" (Skinner, 1998: 26), not by the
aggregation of a majority of individuals-a democratic dogma which gained momen-
tum with the defeat of neo-Roman thinkers. Egypt with its political motto of justice,
liberty, and reciprocity was like Republican France (liberte',
egalite',fraternite'),
indepen-
dent America, and classical Greece-where democracy, liberty, and equality
112 International
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assembly and courts dealt with personal matters or political decisions (such as war
and peace) by decreesand verdicts. In Egypt and Mesopotamia, rulers enacted laws
after intense consultation involving many assemblies and councils; they could not
change laws at will (the Pharaoh's vizirs sat in courts with scrolls of laws at their
feet each time they had to make a decision) (Van den Boorn, 1988). The process
was neither bottom-up nor top-down, but a combination of both with a huge network
of interdependent actors.
Circulating assignments and positions, duplicating civil servants in charge of
accounting and auditing procedures, sharing governmental power with ambitious
challengers, dividing rights to the throne and wealth between incumbents-all
these means were used at least from the beginning of the second millennium BC.
Whatever the differences between regions, those who were ruled shared a common
defiance towards rulers. They had "constitutions" which could not be revised, which
were inscribed in the "natural" order and did not depend on humans.16 After being
suppressed during invasions or rebellions, followed by an uncertain interim period,
they were quickly restored. Their texts were given as homework to generations of
pupils who learned grammar while copying them. Among these founding documents
the "pyramid texts" of archaic Egypt, the "constitution of Sneferu" from the Old
Kingdom, "Amenemhat's will" from the New Kingdom (Wente, 1990: 18, 41, 48),
"Gilgamesh and Agga" in Sumer, and "Esarhaddon Treaty" in Assyria were the
most celebrated. Usually presented as a former ruler's legacy, they not only detailed
his or her good deeds or examples of appropriate behaviour, but also contain lists
of duties, the division of assignments between elders and rulers, local representa-
tives and ministers-not to speak of temple and palace, civilians and the military.
They organized a pyramid of courts, representative councils, defence districts, most
based on remote tribal distinctions, such as Egyptian nomes, or former glory, such
as Mesopotamian cities which benefited from fiscal and military exemptions
(Babylon, Nippur, Sippar, Borsippa, and others) and even accounting and auditing
offices. Problems raised by their implementation are discussed in official corre-
spondence (for example, King Shamsi-Adad of Assur to his son, ruler of Mari), and
speeches from the throne (for example, "the reception of Rekhmire," the new vizir
of Tuthmosis III).
"International" or religious crises were unique opportunities to compel power-
fully organized cliques, lobbies, and "parties" to transfer their privileges. They
agreed to give them to distinguished heroes who eventually freed slaves, clarified
dubious interpretations of the law, and suppressed some contested rules. The polit-
ical ascension of Marduk in Hammurabi's Babylon is a good example (see "Enuma
Elish," the poem of creation). "Horemheb's decree" in New Kingdom Egypt shows
how a supreme commander who eventually succeeded Tutankhamen after a period
of strife legitimized his rule and how he reenacted and modernized laws abolished
by Akhenaten. Times were ripe for change, although members of the establishment
could not change without losing face.
They nevertheless tested their champions' democratic goodwill before consenting
to appoint chiefs of staff endowed with supreme powers rather than being compelled
to legalize putsches when crises could no longer be avoided. Special procedures were
constitutionally required to pass on provisional "dictatorship" (as in neo-Roman
republics, which eventually made Mesopotamian regimes look like Egyptian ones),
so that many real dictators took great care to respect established rules (think of how
Sesostris, Hatshepsut, Tuthmosis III, and Horemheb in Egypt pretended to be called
by phantoms claiming revenge or priests looking for a saviour). Those who were
114 PoliticalScienceReview21(2)
International
temporarily vested with authority first had to be tested (Adapa, Marduk, Erra) by
their peers to check their goodwill before gaining access to secret files and terrible
weapons-such as God's eye and its deadly radiations (Lalouette, 1987; Bottero and
Kramer, 1989). When they relinquished power to the opposition or successors, they
signed "political pacts" with them to obtain juridical immunities and political
guaranties for their partisans (for example, "Zakutu'streaty" in favour of Assurba-
nipal against his elder brother Shamash-shum-ukin).International agreements (such
as the famous "Qadesh Treaty" between Egyptians and Hittites) achieved the same
goal. They went into great detail about legitimate opponents versus ordinarycrimi-
nals while protecting allies against exiled conspirators.All these cautious regulations
made room for peaceful transitions supported from abroad.
When all earthly devices failed, democrats had to rely on the will of the gods. A
Sumerian theory from the late third millennium BC which became very popular in
the second established a succession of dynasties as a rule. Relinquishing power to
enemies was considered as certain as astronomical cycles (hence the use of the same
radical, bal, to express both "revolutions"-the disappearance of a royal family, and
the revolution of a planet). The "state" was not seen as a set of stable institutions
(German Stand, Stdnden); it was truly unstable, had a limited "term" (another
meaning of bala), and was doomed to fail because of human arrogance, ambition,
and greed (the Greek hubris)-a bias in democratic procedures serious enough to
irritate both heavenly gods (the deities) and earthly ones (the people).
Knowing perfectly well the necessity for sharp distinctions between rulers and
ruled, politicians and bureaucrats early found out the logical counterparts implied
by this discovery. Professionals would have no legitimacy if they were not fair to
their people; politics was understandable and acceptable only when social justice,
however reached, was considered a prerequisite for political consensus.
others. Avoiding the unlimited power of the people as well as people's natural
selfishness implied social limits to political democracy.
Conclusion
Egypt's and Mesopotamia's legacies lie in what Philip Pettit labelled "freedom as
non-domination" (Petitt, 1997). They were very good at deterring others from
affecting their own behaviour, which is why keeping silent as long as possible was
seen as beneficial in both countries' assemblies and councils, a skill which was
taught in school-never say something that could be used against you, keep things
as secret as you wish. Egyptians and Mesopotamians were aware long before we
were that democracy is the art of living with people we dislike, and of faith in social
mechanisms, compelling rulers to seek the common good as well as their own.
In this respect, they differ strongly from the Greeks, at least from the image we
have of Athenian politics. The Greeks did not believe in democracy but in the
absolute necessity for political equality. Civic equality was the counterpart of social
inequality between categories of people (women, foreigners, thetes, slaves, etc.) as
well as the only meaning of the so-called common good. It was a very aristocratic
version of democracy. What the Greeks did-and not what they expected-was to
compel incumbents to secure popular support. Although this was not government
by the people, governing without the people was impossible.18 That was also true in
the Nile and Tigris valleys; ancient Egyptians and Mesopotamians already knew
that the essence of "democracy" was not only citizenship but the necessity to
mobilize citizens; it was not only popular participation but the need to organize it.
Compared to ours, Egyptian and Mesopotamian regimes were democratic because
they tried to conciliate rivals or foes rather than allow them to express their discon-
tent. Rather than invite street fights or bloody feuds and killing speeches in
councils, political institutions forced dissenters into the same camp. Politics as a
whole demanded special skills: vision (in order to address the right problems in the
right way) and diplomacy. Such competence was more important than leadership
(which too often was the reward of victorious fights against others) or bargaining
(which was always short-sighted). This was not Rousseau's kind of democracy where
the general will could not be negotiated, or an Islamist one where unanimity could
not be downgraded by dissenting opinions (fitna). It was not even Machiavellian, for
the end did not justify the means. The regime promoted by ancient Egyptians and
Mesopotamians was a democracy by delegation, deprived of general majoritarian
elections but not without (political) parties, assembly votes, and constitutional or
regular laws. It was representative government without elected representatives
(although they truly "represented" their constituency). It was a type of welfare state
without any political translation of class conflicts, a sort of republic where liberty
was more positive than negative, a form of bureaucracy which also worked for the
benefit of the weak and the poor, a political community without illusion on individ-
ual egoism.
If we listened to Egyptians and Mesopotamians for a while, we would hear them
whispering that politics is altogether good and evil, friend and foe, local and central,
formal and informal. But as the popular saying "better to let well enough alone"
advises, it is wiser not to expect politicians to require of themselves virtues that
ancient gods and heroes could not display.
Democracy has a price: one should never hope to get rid of the dark side of politics.
Better to use the power of Seth (desert storms and sterile wild asses) to complement
SCHEMEIL:
Democracy
beforeDemocracy? 117
the virtue of Osiris (god of harvests, commanding the flood) and the vision of Horus
(the sun which makes plants grow, the falcon gliding above the fields, insensitive to
earthly evil and social strife). Cooking a tasty social recipe out of bitter political
components might be what democracy is about, according to our ancestors who
contributed to its invention in the Middle East five thousand years ago.19
Notes
1. This article is based on materials collected in Schemeil (1999). For more empirical
evidence and archeological sources, see the work's bibliography, pp. 453-478. Some
related materials and assessments may be found in my article on Mediterranean food
and banquets (Schemeil, 1998). The original Egyptian and Mesopotamian texts are avail-
able both in English and French (Bottero, 1992; Bottero and Kramer, 1989; Faulkner,
1969; Gardner and Maier, 1984; Lalouette, 1984/1987; Parpola, 1987/1990; Pritchard,
1955/1968).
2. Comparing ancient and modern democracies, Moses Finley discusses only the Greek part
of our common heritage, arguing that civilizations which preceded Athens were ignored
by modern political thinkers (Finley, 1976: 60-61). Although this is certainly true, it does
not follow that earlier democratic procedures and values which were not known to the
Greeks and their Western successors-or were differently weighed-are not worth study-
ing. To paraphrase Finley, who claims that crediting the Vikings for the discovery of
North America has no impact on the aftermath of Colombus's travels, my purpose is not
to praise the Mesopotamians or Egyptians rather than the Greeks for the invention of
democracy. Thanks to the Bible, all Western civilizations borrowed more intellectual
materials from the Near East than from any other region, whereas ancient Scandinavia
did not contribute much to the North American creed. In another book, Moses Finley
follows a different line; he can "find no ground for thinking that there was any signifi-
cant diffusionfrom the Phoenicians to the Greeks or Etruscans" (Finley, 1983: 53, empha-
sis mine).
3. Jean Baechler also believes in the "naturalness" of democracy, which makes it the
"normal" political regime of any society, provided no particular context biases its polit-
ical process and prevents democracy (Baechler, 1985: 687-695). Hence, there is no reason
why the ancient peoples of the Middle East should ignore it.
4. I depart fromJack Goody's thesis on the area covered (he goes at length into Far Eastern
history and anthropology), not on the argument that "the East is in the West" (Goody,
1996/1999). I also depart from his idea of ancient Egypt belonging to the world of "high
culture" where hierarchy was the rule. For a more explicit comparison of our respective
methodologies and empirical findings see Schemeil (1998).
5. The less known graphepara nomonachieved the same end; the author of a proposal could
be sued, even if the latter was adopted by the assembly. According to Ober (1989: 74)
ostracism was a way of expelling from the community any individual who threatened the
national consensus," which meant that freedom to dissent was limited (on dissent, see
also Ober, 1998).
6. Those who trace the origins of our political systems to Greece paradoxically praise it for
"participatory democracy" at the same time they (1) claim that it would be no more
possible to gather all citizens in the same space to make policy and laws so that there
is no common ground between "participatory"and "representative" democracy; and (2)
doubt the reality of civic participation in Athens, not to speak of other Greek cities. For
instance, attendance at and frequency of assembly meetings are often taken as "proof'
of majoritarian participation, while the total of 6000 required for voting is altogether too
high-as a fixed number, not as a proportionof citizens (Gauthier, 1990: 77-78, 81)-or
too low (40 000 citizens could allegedly meet in Athens).
7. Every economist knows what the "Dutch disease" means: a recession by an excess of
(external) resources.
118 International
PoliticalScienceReview21(2)
8. There was, however, a common opinion about democracy itself, whether representative
or participatory; ancient Mesopotamians, Egyptians, and Greeks saw it as a regime in
which people could openly praise a foreign city and even an enemy without being sued
for treason (for the many exceptions to the rule, see Finley, 1976: 160-171). See also
infra, n.13.
9. Ober (1989: chap. 1) minimizes the difficulty: he shows convincingly that Athenian polit-
ical discourse bridged the gulf between mass and elite. According to him, "formal
rhetoric was...a primary means by which mass-elite relations could be discussed in
public" (ibid.: 45). This "ongoing verbal communication" explains why Athenians were
so attached to democracy-even when their shrinking commercial empire could not any
more help those who were deprived of wealth, honour or education, to accept their lower
status and be satisfied with public employment and public works. This social function of
political discourse was precisely what Egyptians and Mesopotamians expected from it.
10. This is why Greeks voted almost unanimouslyby secretballot on matters of citizenship,
instead of supporting or openly dismissing applicants when their cases had been discussed
in an initial meeting (Gauthier, 1990: 98).
11. Dominique Colas convincingly opposes "civilness" to "fanaticism," rather than "civil
society" to the "state" (Colas, 1991/1997).
12. According to Assmann (1989) individualization of one's fate in the nether world was
conducive to personal responsibility and "demotization" (that is, equal access to funer-
ary equipment) if not "democratization"(equal access to power) on earth.
13. While Sumerian gods and priests were bitterly criticized for the decisions they made in
council, to the Greeks and Romans, "freedom of speech (when it existed) meant liter-
ally the freedom to speak in public...not the freedom to have unpopular or unaccept-
able ideas" (Finley, 1983: 29).
14. The "curse of Naram Sin" and the "sin of Esarhaddon" are well documented in
Mesopotamian literature (Pritchard, 1955-1968). Dynasties fell like the Tower of Babel
by excess of pride and enthusiasm.
15. This is the only missing criterion ("free, fair, and frequent elections") of the six prereq-
uisites for polyarchy listed by Robert Dahl (Dahl, 1998: 92): actually, "elected represen-
tatives," "freedom of expression," "alternative information" (there were several
contradictory sources and schools of thought), "associational autonomy" (workers and
craftsmen as well as scribes and priests or traders and tribesmen had their own teams
and clubs), and "inclusive citizenship" (men and women, adults and teenagers partici-
pated in the debate) were frequent in ancient Egyptian and Mesopotamian regimes.
16. The same was true in Athens, where equality was a matter of nature, not of human and
thus legal decision (Hansen, 1991/1993, chap. 4).
17. As in Athens, where elite litigants often pretended in court to be poor, or had to defend
themselves against the charge of wealth (Ober, 1989: 14, 219-226).
18. This meant that the people "had to be appealed to, consulted, manipulated, manoeuvred
and outmanoeuvred" (Finley, 1983: 69). In other words, politics was politicking.
References
Assmann, J. (1989). Madt:L'Egyptepharaonique etlidie dejusticesociale.Paris:Julliard.
Baechler, J. (1985). Dimocraties.Paris: Calmann-Levy.
Bernal, M. (1987). Black Athena:The Afro-AsiaticRootsof ClassicalCivilization.London: Free
Association Books.
Bottero, J. (1992). L'epopeede Gilgamesh.Paris: Gallimard.
Bottero, J. and S.N. Kramer (1989). Lorsqueles dieuxfaisaientl'homme: Mythologiesmisopotami-
ennes.Paris: Gallimard.
Cassin, E. (1973). "Note sur le puhru des dieux." In La voixde l'opposition en Misopotamie(A.
Finet, ed.), pp. 111-118. Bruxelles: Institut des Hautes Etudes de Belgique.
Charpin, D. (1990). "Les edits de restauration des rois babyloniens et leur application." In
Du pouvoirdansl'antiquite: Motset rialitis (C. Nicolet, ed.), pp. 13-24. Geneve: Droz.
SCHEMEIL: Democracy
beforeDemocracy? 119
Biographical Note
YVESSCHEMEIL is Professor at the Insitut d'Etudes Politiques de Grenoble, France, which he
headed before starting to write a book about politics in the Ancient Orient when he was a
Fulbright scholar at the University of Chicago. Vice-President of the French Political Science
Association, member of IPSA'sexecutive committee, he is on the boards of the CNRSand the
RevueFranfaisede SciencePolitique.He worked for years in and on the Middle East, teaching
in Aix-en-Provence, Beirut, Berkeley, and at UCLA. At the crossroads of comparative politics,
political theory, anthropology, sociology and political economy, his current research deals
with civic competence and political involvement. ADDRESS:Institut d'Etudes Politiques, B.P.
48, 38040 Grenoble Cedex 9, France.