Taylor Jordan

4/2/19

Democracy? Sez You.

Here in Alabama, distrust of the government runs deep. From the federal occupation

following the Civil War, through scandals, schemes and failures, the government – especially the

state government – has proven itself repeatedly to act against the interests of its most vulnerable

citizens on behalf of the rich landowning class. In Alabama Getaway, Allen Tullos laments that

“we have difficulty understanding that government is ‘we the people’ not ‘they the enemy’”

(Tullos 168), but what if our government is set up in such a way that it is the de facto enemy of

the people? For African Americans until the late 1960s, the state government was certainly ‘they

the enemy.’ Perhaps it still is. Radical democracy is the only way to effectively bridge this gap

between the government and the governed.

Some of Alabama’s problems are in fact problems that belong to the system of

representative government itself. The label of democracy does not technically apply to such

governments, because citizens don’t make decisions by voting. Instead, citizens elect

representatives, who make decisions for them. These representatives have a strong incentive to

engage in corruption, whether they have a reasonable fear of being prosecuted for doing so or

not. George Wallace’s strategy of having his cronies “‘get a friendly legislator to draft a bill that

would hurt a given economic interest […] and then offer to have the bill killed in exchange for a

fee’” was a blatant ethical violation, but also a huge risk (Tullos 113). If the group that he was

trying to extort failed to pay up, then he’d intentionally damage the economic climate of the

whole state. No truly democratic assembly of citizens would make the decision to extort their
own local businesses at the peril of business itself. That’s why I believe that directly democratic

assemblies should have the power to make such laws and that people like George Wallace should

not. Another Alabama governor, “Don Siegelman[,] had nourished an indulgent circle of

sufferance and privilege” during his time in office, as one might expect (Tullos 159). The power

that the governor wields is simply too much to expect them not to abuse it for personal gain. This

reality doesn’t exculpate people who get rich from graft, but it does have serious implications for

what we can consider good government. Good government is government that does not entrust

such far-reaching collective decisions to fallible politicians. When people are expected to make

decisions on behalf of others, they often do so in self-serving ways.

Even the African American politicians of Alabama, which do not include any governors,

have “found themselves caught in sleaze, kickback schemes, and malfeasance, sometimes

removed from office and imprisoned” (Tullos 204). They face the same temptations as white

public officeholders. They are beset by lobbyists who want to trade private money for public

money. Being unable to take the public money themselves, it’s a tempting offer for many

representatives. Larry “Langford, having been removed from office for accepting $235,000 in

cash, loans, and gifts […] in exchange for $7 million of Jefferson County’s sewer bond

business,” is no exception (Tullos 210). As mayor of Birmingham, he had access to millions of

dollars that he didn’t earn. He made a decision that made him slightly richer and made his

constituency considerably poorer. This disparity between what’s good for Langford and what’s

good for Jefferson County is an example of a wider phenomenon. Representatives are humans

with their own interests that become opposed to the interests of the people they ‘serve’ as soon as

they enter office. No one should be able to do what Langford did because no one should be

deciding what to do with Jefferson County’s money besides the people of Jefferson County.
 In addition to being led astray by the promise of dirty money, representatives can also be

misled by their own ideologies and prejudices. Officials often have strong convictions that may

not line up with a state’s practical reality. During the Fob James era, “the Economic

Development Association of Alabama voted their governor the state’s number-one obstacle to

business growth” because his obsession with prayer in schools took center-stage instead of more

substantive efforts to improve the state (Tullos 141). Fob tried to protest the teaching of the

evolutionary theory. In doing so, he cast Alabama as a backwards place, damaging our national

reputation. More importantly, the state has no business getting involved in biology class. There

were no public needs prompting Fob to engage in this crusade; only his own misguided beliefs.

Like Fob, “Moore pushed beyond states’ rights to claim divine right,” riding religious

enthusiasm to his initial political victories (Tullos 175). The Ten Commandments statue at the

center of the controversy was a symbolic issue totally irrelevant to solving the state’s real

problems. In both cases, representatives made what could have been a non-issue into a heated

controversy that they could take a stand on instead of doing their jobs. Their cases are great

examples of the perverse incentive representatives have to inflame and exaggerate minor, but

culturally resonant, issues. Doing so is an easier way to get re-elected than doing well at

satisfying the more basic requirements that representatives have to their constituents.

In the wake of all these abuses by Alabama’s elected officials, we might ask the question:

is Alabama a democracy? According to Iris Marion Young, no. “’Regional government is deeply

democratic,’” she says, “‘only if combined with neighborhood and community-based

participatory institutions,’” making Alabama a republic, but not quite a democracy (Tullos 212).

Neighborhood and community-based institutions exist in some places, but they don’t engage in

participatory government. If they did, then they would legally be usurping the officials in
Montgomery, even if the decision to be made was purely of local concern. The Alabama

Constitution “‘concentrated inordinate power in the state legislature while allowing almost no

local control to cities and counties” in a bid to cement the power of the ruling class of Big Mule

planters (Tullos 164). This constitution made sure that democracy could not be legally practiced

in Alabama. The intent was to prevent majority-black counties from going Republican, but now

it prevents all counties from going anywhere. Basic things like zoning laws and taxes must be

cleared by state officials, making lots of room for graft. To bring democracy to Alabama, or any

place, “‘requires the development of grass-roots institutions of local discussion and decision

making” (Tullos 188). It also requires these institutions to replace the republican state. To

accomplish that, institutions will be needed to perform the functions that the state currently

performs. They will need to achieve legitimacy in the eyes of Alabamians. Becoming democratic

would be an uphill battle, but it would result in a fairer way of life where taxpayers can not be

victimized by another George Wallace or Larry Langford.

Corruption and bad policy are the inevitable results of the representative form of

government. Black or white, people who sit in a position of public power will always be courted

by corporate interests who hope to take advantage of the inordinate power that these people

wield. Abuse of office would be best rectified through abolition of office. Government by the

people, for the people, does not mean government by Montgomery bureaucrats for ALFA.

Decisions should be made by the same people who stand to be affected by those decisions,

instead of indifferent tyrants in the capitol. The best way to prevent the failures of politicians is

to do away with career politicians as such and establish a direct, participatory democracy.