American Institutions and Their Influence by Alexis de Tocqueville et al

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To quote a recent example: when the president attacked the bank, the
country was excited and parties were formed; the well-informed classes
rallied round the bank, the common people round the president. But it
must not be imagined that the people had formed a rational opinion upon
a question which offers so many difficulties to the most experienced
statesmen. The bank is a great establishment which enjoys an independent
existence, and the people, accustomed to make and unmake whatsoever it
pleases, is startled to meet with this obstacle to its authority. In the
midst of the perpetual fluctuation of society, the community is
irritated by so permanent an institution, and is led to attack it, in
order to see whether it can be shaken and controlled, like all the other
institutions of the country.

* * * * *

REMAINS OF THE ARISTOCRATIC PARTY IN THE UNITED STATES.

Secret Opposition of wealthy Individuals to Democracy.--Their
retirement.--Their tastes for exclusive Pleasures and for Luxury at
Home.--Their Simplicity Abroad.--Their affected Condescension toward the
People.

It sometimes happens in a people among which various opinions prevail,
that the balance of the several parties is lost, and one of them obtains
an irresistible preponderance, overpowers all obstacles, harasses its
opponents, and appropriates all the resources of society to its own
purposes. The vanquished citizens despair of success, and they conceal
their dissatisfaction in silence and in a general apathy. The nation
seems to be governed by a single principle, and the prevailing party
assumes the credit of having restored peace and unanimity to the
country. But this apparent unanimity is merely a cloak to alarming
dissensions and perpetual opposition.

This is precisely what occurred in America; when the democratic party
got the upper hand, it took exclusive possession of the conduct of
affairs, and from that time the laws and customs of society have been
adapted to its caprices. At the present day the more affluent classes of
society are so entirely removed from the direction of political affairs
in the United States, that wealth, far from conferring a right to the
exercise of power, is rather an obstacle than a means of attaining to
it. The wealthy members of the community abandon the lists, through
unwillingness to contend, and frequently to contend in vain, against the
poorest classes of their fellow-citizens. They concentrate all their
enjoyments in the privacy of their homes, where they occupy a rank which
cannot be assumed in public; and they constitute a private society in
the state, which has its own tastes and its own pleasures. They submit
to this state of things as an irremediable evil, but they are careful
not to show that they are galled by its continuance; it is even not
uncommon to hear them laud the delights of a republican government, and
the advantages of democratic institutions when they are in public. Next
to hating their enemies, men are most inclined to flatter them.

Mark, for instance, that opulent citizen, who is as anxious as a Jew of
the middle ages to conceal his wealth. His dress is plain, his demeanor
unassuming; but the interior of his dwelling glitters with luxury, and
none but a few chosen guests whom he haughtily styles his equals, are
allowed to penetrate into this sanctuary. No European noble is more
exclusive in his pleasures, or more jealous of the smallest advantages
which his privileged station confers upon him. But the very same
individual crosses the city to reach a dark counting-house in the centre
of traffic, where every one may accost him who pleases. If he meets his
cobbler upon the way, they stop and converse; the two citizens discuss
the affairs of the state in which they have an equal interest, and they
shake hands before they part.

But beneath this artificial enthusiasm, and these obsequious attentions
to the preponderating power, it is easy to perceive that the wealthy
members of the community entertain a hearty distaste to the democratic
institutions of their country. The populace is at once the object of
their scorn and of their fears. If the mal-administration of the
democracy ever brings about a revolutionary crisis, and if monarchical
institutions ever become practicable in the United States, the truth of
what I advance will become obvious.

The two chief weapons which parties use in order to ensure success, are
the _public press_, and the formation of _associations_.

CHAPTER XI.

LIBERTY OF THE PRESS IN THE UNITED STATES.

Difficulty of restraining the Liberty of the Press.--Particular reasons
which some Nations have to cherish this Liberty.--The Liberty of the
Press a necessary Consequence of the Sovereignty of the people as it is
understood in America.--Violent Language of the periodical Press in the
United States.--Propensities of the periodical Press.--Illustrated by
the United States.--Opinion of the Americans upon the Repression of the
Abuse of the Liberty of the Press by judicial Prosecutions.--Reasons for
which the Press is less powerful in America than in France.

The influence of the liberty of the press does not affect political
opinions alone, but it extends to all the opinions of men, and it
modifies customs as well as laws. In another part of this work I shall
attempt to determine the degree of influence which the liberty of the
press has exercised upon civil society in the United States, and to
point out the direction which it has given to the ideas, as well as the
tone which it has imparted to the character and the feelings of the
Anglo-Americans, but at present I purpose simply to examine the effects
produced by the liberty of the press in the political world.

I confess that I do not entertain that firm and complete attachment to
the liberty of the press, which things that are supremely good in their
very nature are wont to excite in the mind; and I approve of it more
from a recollection of the evils it prevents, than from a consideration
of the advantages it ensures.

If any one can point out an intermediate, and yet a tenable position,
between the complete independence and the entire subjection of the
public expression of opinion, I should perhaps be inclined to adopt it;
but the difficulty is to discover this position. If it is your intention
to correct the abuses of unlicensed printing, and to restore the use of
orderly language, you may in the first instance try the offender by a
jury; but if the jury acquits him, the opinion which was that of a
single individual becomes the opinion of the country at large. Too much
and too little has therefore hitherto been done; if you proceed, you
must bring the delinquent before permanent magistrates; but even here
the cause must be heard before it can be decided; and the very
principles which no book would have ventured to avow are blazoned forth
in the pleadings, and what was obscurely hinted at in a single
composition is then repeated in a multitude of other publications. The
language in which a thought is embodied is the mere carcase of the
thought, and not the idea itself; tribunals may condemn the form, but
the sense and spirit of the work is too subtle for their authority: too
much has still been done to recede, too little to attain your end: you
must therefore proceed. If you establish a censorship of the press, the
tongue of the public speaker will still make itself heard, and you have
only increased the mischief. The powers of thought do not rely, like the
powers of physical strength, upon the number of their mechanical agents,
nor can a host of authors be reckoned like the troops which compose an
army; on the contrary, the authority of a principle is often increased
by the smallness of the number of men by whom it is expressed. The words
of a strong-minded man, which penetrate amid the passions of a listening
assembly, have more weight than the vociferations of a thousand orators;
and if it be allowed to speak freely in any public place, the
consequence is the same as if free speaking was allowed in every
village. The liberty of discourse must therefore be destroyed as well as
the liberty of the press; this is the necessary term of your efforts;
but if your object was to repress the abuses of liberty, they have
brought you to the feet of a despot. You have been led from the extreme
of independence to the extreme of subjection, without meeting with a
single tenable position for shelter or repose.

There are certain nations which have peculiar reasons for cherishing the
press, independently of the general motives which I have just pointed
out. For in certain countries which profess to enjoy the privileges of
freedom, every individual agent of the government may violate the laws
with impunity, since those whom he oppresses cannot prosecute him before
the courts of justice. In this case the liberty of the press is not
merely a guarantee, but it is the only guarantee of their liberty and
their security which the citizens possess. If the rulers of these
nations proposed to abolish the independence of the press, the people
would be justified in saying: "Give us the right of prosecuting your
offences before the ordinary tribunals, and perhaps we may then waive
our right of appeal to the tribunal of public opinion."

But in the countries in which the doctrine of the sovereignty of the
people ostensibly prevails, the censorship of the press is not only
dangerous, but it is absurd. When the right of every citizen to
co-operate in the government of society is acknowledged, every citizen
must be presumed to possess the power of discriminating between the
different opinions of his contemporaries, and of appreciating the
different facts from which inferences may be drawn. The sovereignty of
the people and the liberty of the press may therefore be looked upon as
correlative institutions; just as the censorship of the press and
universal suffrage are two things which are irreconcileably opposed, and
which cannot long be retained among the institutions of the same people.
Not a single individual of the twelve millions who inhabit the territory
of the United States has as yet dared to propose any restrictions to the
liberty of the press. The first newspaper over which I cast my eyes,
after my arrival in America, contained the following article:

"In all this affair, the language of Jackson has been that of a
heartless despot, solely occupied with the preservation of his own
authority. Ambition is his crime, and it will be his punishment too:
intrigue is his native element, and intrigue will confound his tricks,
and will deprive him of his power; he governs by means of corruption,
and his immoral practices will redound to his shame and confusion. His
conduct in the political arena has been that of a shameless and lawless
gamester. He succeeded at the time, but the hour of retribution
approaches, and he will be obliged to disgorge his winnings, to throw
aside his false dice, and to end his days in some retirement where he
may curse his madness at his leisure; for repentance is a virtue with
which his heart is likely to remain for ever unacquainted."

It is not uncommonly imagined in France, that the virulence of the press
originates in the uncertain social condition, in the political
excitement, and the general sense of consequent evil which prevail in
that country; and it is therefore supposed that as soon as society has
resumed a certain degree of composure, the press will abandon its
present vehemence. I am inclined to think that the above causes explain
the reason of the extraordinary ascendency it has acquired over the
nation, but that they do not exercise much influence upon the tone of
its language. The periodical press appears to me to be actuated by
passions and propensities independent of the circumstances in which it
is placed; and the present position of America corroborates this
opinion.

America is, perhaps, at this moment, the country of the whole world
which contains the fewest germs of revolution; but the press is not less
destructive in its principles than in France, and it displays the same
violence without the same reasons for indignation. In America, as in
France, it constitutes a singular power, so strangely composed of
mingled good and evil, that it is at the same time indispensable to the
existence of freedom, and nearly incompatible with the maintenance of
public order. Its power is certainly much greater in France than in the
United States; though nothing is more rare in the latter country than to
hear of a prosecution having been instituted against it. The reason of
this is perfectly simple; the Americans having once admitted the
doctrine of sovereignty of the people, apply it with perfect
consistency. It was never their intention to found a permanent state of
things with elements which undergo daily modifications; and there is
consequently nothing criminal in an attack upon the existing laws,
provided it be not attended with a violent infraction of them. They are
moreover of opinion that courts of justice are unable to check the
abuses of the press; and that as the subtlety of human language
perpetually eludes the severity of judicial analysis, offences of this
nature are apt to escape the hand which attempts to apprehend them. They
hold that to act with efficacy upon the press, it would be necessary to
find a tribunal, not only devoted to the existing order of things, but
capable of surmounting the influence of public opinion; a tribunal which
should conduct its proceedings without publicity, which should pronounce
its decrees without assigning its motives, and punish the intentions
even more than the language of an author. Whosoever should have the
power of creating and maintaining a tribunal of this kind, would waste
his time in prosecuting the liberty of the press; for he would be the
supreme master of the whole community, and he would be as free to rid
himself of the authors as of their writings. In this question,
therefore, there is no medium between servitude and extreme license; in
order to enjoy the inestimable benefits which the liberty of the press
ensures, it is necessary to submit to the inevitable evils which it
engenders. To expect to acquire the former, and to escape the latter, is
to cherish one of those illusions which commonly mislead nations in
their times of sickness, when, tired with faction and exhausted by
effort, they attempt to combine hostile opinions and contrary principles
upon the same soil.

The small influence of the American journals is attributable to several
reasons, among which are the following:--

The liberty of writing, like all other liberty, is most formidable when
it is a novelty; for a people which has never been accustomed to
co-operate in the conduct of state affairs, places implicit confidence
in the first tribune who arouses its attention. The Anglo-Americans have
enjoyed this liberty ever since the foundation of the settlements;
moreover, the press cannot create human passions by its own power,
however skilfully it may kindle them where they exist. In America
politics are discussed with animation and a varied activity, but they
rarely touch those deep passions which are excited whenever the positive
interest of a part of the community is impaired: but in the United
States the interests of the community are in a most prosperous
condition. A single glance upon a French and an American newspaper is
sufficient to show the difference which exists between the two nations
on this head. In France the space allotted to commercial advertisements
is very limited, and the intelligence is not considerable, but the most
essential part of the journal is that which contains the discussion of
the politics of the day. In America three quarters of the enormous sheet
which is set before the reader are filled with advertisements, and the
remainder is frequently occupied by political intelligence or trivial
anecdotes: it is only from time to time that one finds a corner devoted
to passionate discussions like those with which the journalists of
France are wont to indulge their readers.

It has been demonstrated by observation, and discovered by the innate
sagacity of the pettiest as well as the greatest of despots, that the
influence of a power is increased in proportion as its direction is
rendered more central. In France the press combines a twofold
centralisation: almost all its power is centred in the same spot, and
vested in the same hands, for its organs are far from numerous. The
influence of a public press thus constituted, upon a sceptical nation,
must be unbounded. It is an enemy with which a government may sign an
occasional truce, but which it is difficult to resist for any length of
time.

Neither of these kinds of centralisation exists in America. The United
States have no metropolis; the intelligence as well as the power of the
country is dispersed abroad, and instead of radiating from a point, they
cross each other in every direction; the Americans have established no
central control over the expression of opinion, any more than over the
conduct of business. These are circumstances which do not depend on
human foresight; but it is owing to the laws of the Union that there are
no licenses to be granted to the printers, no securities demanded from
editors, as in France, and no stamp duty as in France and England. The
consequence of this is that nothing is easier than to set up a
newspaper, and a small number of readers suffices to defray the expenses
of the editor.

The number of periodical and occasional publications which appear in the
United States actually surpasses belief. The most enlightened Americans
attribute the subordinate influence of the press to this excessive
dissemination; and it is adopted as an axiom of political science in
that country, that the only way to neutralise the effect of public
journals is to multiply them indefinitely. I cannot conceive why a truth
which is so self-evident has not already been more generally admitted in
Europe; it is comprehensible that the persons who hope to bring about
revolutions, by means of the press, should be desirous of confining its
action to a few powerful organs; but it is perfectly incredible that the
partisans of the existing state of things, and the natural supporters of
the laws, should attempt to diminish the influence of the press by
concentrating its authority. The governments of Europe seem to treat the
press with the courtesy of the knights of old; they are anxious to
furnish it with the same central power which they have found to be so
trusty a weapon, in order to enhance the glory of their resistance to
its attacks.

In America there is scarcely a hamlet which has not its own newspaper.
It may readily be imagined that neither discipline nor unity of design
can be communicated to so multifarious a host, and each one is
constantly led to fight under his own standard. All the political
journals of the United States are indeed arrayed on the side of the
administration or against it; but they attack and defend it in a
thousand different ways. They cannot succeed in forming those great
currents of opinion which overwhelm the most solid obstacles. This
division of the influence of the press produces a variety of other
consequences which are scarcely less remarkable. The facility with which
journals can be established induces a multitude of individuals to take a
part in them; but as the extent of competition precludes the possibility
of considerable profit, the most distinguished classes of society are
rarely led to engage in these undertakings. But such is the number of
the public prints, that even if they were a source of wealth, writers of
ability could not be found to direct them all. The journalists of the
United States are usually placed in a very humble position, with a
scanty education, and a vulgar turn of mind. The will of the majority is
the most general of laws, and it establishes certain habits which form
the characteristics of each peculiar class of society; thus it dictates
the etiquette practised at courts and the etiquette of the bar. The
characteristics of the French journalist consist in a violent, but
frequently an eloquent and lofty manner of discussing the politics of
the day; and the exceptions to this habitual practice are only
occasional. The characteristics of the American journalist consist in an
open and coarse appeal to the passions of the populace; and he
habitually abandons the principles of political science to assail the
characters of individuals, to track them into private life, and disclose
all their weaknesses and errors.

Nothing can be more deplorable than this abuse of the powers of thought;
I shall have occasion to point out hereafter the influence of the
newspapers upon the taste and the morality of the American people, but
my present subject exclusively concerns the political world. It cannot
be denied that the effects of this extreme license of the press tend
indirectly to the maintenance of public order. The individuals who are
already in possession of a high station in the esteem of their fellow
citizens, are afraid to write in the newspapers, and they are thus
deprived of the most powerful instrument which they can use to excite
the passions of the multitude to their own advantage.[161]

The personal opinions of the editors have no kind of weight in the eyes
of the public: the only use of a journal is, that it imparts the
knowledge of certain facts, and it is only by altering or distorting
those facts, that a journalist can contribute to the support of his own
views.

But although the press is limited to these resources, its influence in
America is immense. It is the power which impels the circulation of
political life through all the districts of that vast territory. Its eye
is constantly open to detect the secret springs of political designs,
and to summon the leaders of all parties to the bar of public opinion.
It rallies the interests of the community round certain principles, and
it draws up the creed which factions adopt; for it affords a means of
intercourse between parties which hear, and which address each other,
without ever having been in immediate contact. When a great number of
the organs of the press adopt the same line of conduct, their influence
becomes irresistible; and public opinion, when it is perpetually
assailed from the same side, eventually yields to the attack. In the
United States each separate journal exercises but little authority: but
the power of the periodical press is only second to that of the
people.[162]

In the United States the democracy perpetually raises fresh individuals
to the conduct of public affairs; and the measures of the administration
are consequently seldom regulated by the strict rules of consistency or
of order. But the general principles of the government are more stable,
and the opinions most prevalent in society are generally more durable
than in many other countries. When once the Americans have taken up an
idea, whether it be well or ill-founded, nothing is more difficult than
to eradicate it from their minds. The same tenacity of opinion has been
observed in England, where, for the last century, greater freedom of
conscience, and more invincible prejudices have existed, than in all the
other countries of Europe. I attribute this consequence to a cause which
may at first sight appear to have a very opposite tendency, namely, to
the liberty of the press. The nations among which this liberty exists
are as apt to cling to their opinions from pride as from conviction.
They cherish them because they hold them to be just, and because they
exercised their own free will in choosing them; and they maintain them,
not only because they are true, but because they are their own. Several
other reasons conduce to the same end.

It was remarked by a man of genius, that "ignorance lies at the two ends
of knowledge." Perhaps it would have been more correct to say that
absolute convictions are to be met with at the two extremities, and that
doubt lies in the middle; for the human intellect may be considered in
three distinct states, which frequently succeed one another.

A man believes implicitly, because he adopts a proposition without
inquiry. He doubts as soon as he is assailed by the objections which his
inquiries may have aroused. But he frequently succeeds in satisfying
these doubts, and then he begins to believe afresh: he no longer lays
hold on a truth in its most shadowy and uncertain form, but he sees it
clearly before him, and he advances onward by the light it gives
him.[163]

When the liberty of the press acts upon men who are in the first of
these three states, it does not immediately disturb their habit of
believing implicitly without investigation, but it constantly modifies
the objects of their intuitive convictions. The human mind continues to
discern but one point upon the whole intellectual horizon, and that
point is in continual motion. Such are the symptoms of sudden
revolutions, and of the misfortunes that are sure to befall those
generations which abruptly adopt the unconditional freedom of the press.