DEMOCRACY is facing a global crisis. Those who study democracy and democratisation, and the organisations which track the state of global democracy have been ringing the warning bell for more than a decade that the situation is getting worse. It has now become an era of autocrats, as more and more countries have regressed in quick succession. This situation has engendered two questions regarding the role of the intellectuals — What is the primary task of an intellectual in this difficult time? What should an intellectual do? These questions have risen arisen because the society tends to look up to the intellectuals at a difficult time. They are considered as the conscience of the nation. To shed light on their role, it is necessary to understand the nature, scope, and the depth of the existing crisis.
Face of crisis
THE extent of the crisis can be understood from the data provided by the organisations which track the state of democracy around the world. Freedom House, in its most recent report, informs, as of the end of 2021, ‘some 38 per cent of the global population live in Not Free countries, the highest proportion since 1997. Only about 20 per cent now live in Free countries.’ In a similar vein, Economist Intelligence Unit’s report published in early 2022 says, ‘Democratisation suffered more reversals in 2021, with the percentage of people living in a democracy falling to well below 50 per cent and authoritarian regimes gaining ground.’ According to the EIU’s account, 37.1 per cent of the global population was under authoritarian systems in 2021. The share of the global population under the hybrid regimes, that is a system which holds both democratic and authoritarian traits, was 17.2 per cent. Flawed democracies in 53 countries comprised 39.3 per cent of the global population. Only 6.4 per cent of the global population were enjoying full democracy. The trend of de-democratisation or reversal of democracy became a phenomenon since 2006. According to Freedom House, ‘the present threat to democracy is the product of 16 consecutive years of decline in global freedom. A total of 60 countries suffered declines over the past year [2021], while only 25 improved.’
The crisis of democracy is not a phenomenon of a faraway land, but also of Bangladesh. Although the incumbent claims the system of governance is a democracy, it can at best be called a ‘hybrid regime’. Hybrid regimes have some semblance of democracy, but they are essentially autocratic. It was quite evident by 2013 that the severe weaknesses of the democratic institutions, repeated disruption of the democratic process, concentration of power in the hands of the prime minister, and a pernicious polarisation bear the signs of erosion of democracy and that the country is on an autocratic trajectory. The journey of Bangladesh’s politics and system of governance of the past nine years has been in that direction. Two consecutive engineered elections, in 2014 and 2018, which have delivered landslide victory to the incumbent Bangladesh Awami League are the most evident marker of the downward spiral of democracy and Bangladesh’s slide to autocracy.
New phenomenon
IN THE past, the world had witnessed two episodes of democratic backsliding — from 1922 to 1942 and from 1958 to 1975. During these two episodes, the reversal produced autocratic regimes across the continents. In some measures, it was an either/or between democratic and autocratic systems of governance. But the third episode of democratic decline has produced this unique hybrid system. In the early 1990s, when it was expected that democracy would become a global phenomenon, it was beyond the wildest imagination that consolidated democracies can experience decline or reversal, particularly using the essential institutions and elements of democracy. Yet, it has happened along with the countries which began its journey since 1975.
In countries which have experienced the reversal, the decay of democratic regimes have curtailed the rights of citizens, controlled politics, and established direct and indirect control over the media. While traditional autocracies in the past prohibited politics and trampled upon all forms of democratic rights, the new system retained them on a limited scale to show that ‘democracy is not dead’.
The new system is marked by the characteristic of centralisation of power in the hands of the executive branch, described as ‘executive aggrandisement’. In an article published in 2017, Erica Frantz and Andrea Kendall-Taylor (The Evolution of Autocracy: Why Authoritarianism Is Becoming More Formidable, Survival, Vol. 59, No. 5, 2017), showed that this process of autocratisation has resulted in the emergence of personalistic dictatorship. They noted that of the authoritarian shift between 2000 and 2010, a staggering 75 per cent led to personalistic dictatorships. Such rulers are now labelled as ‘neo-autocrats’. A 2017 study of Arch Paddington published by Freedom House identified them as ‘Modern Authoritarians’ (Freedom House, ‘Breaking Down Democracy: Goals, Strategies and Methods of Modern Authoritarian,’ June 2017).
Among the visible aspects of democracy that are maintained in this new system is the holding of regular elections. But those elections are neither elements of democracy nor intended to contribute to democratisation. Andreas Schadler, a prominent researcher on democratisation, wrote in a 2002 article that under the hybrid regimes, elections become the ‘instrument of authoritarianism’. Two decades have passed since the publication of this article, and during this period we have seen how neo-autocrats have used elections to consolidate their power in various countries.
Beyond institutions
WHILE constitutional and institutional changes play instrumental roles in the process of autocratisation, the actions of the hybrid regimes and its leaders are not limited to institutional aspects. Instead, they take measures beyond the institutional aspect of governance to legitimise their rules. These measures are different from traditional autocrats.
In the hybrid regimes and in the countries where neo-autocracy has emerged through various means, we have witnessed the flourishing of identity politics. Identity politics, in these instances, have taken the form of ultra-nationalism. In the United States, when Donald Trump says, ‘Make America Great Again’, he has a combination of white nationalism and Christianity. Sociologists Andrew Whitehead, Samuel Perry, and Joseph Baker discussed in detail the results of the 2016 election in an article published in 2018, showing how deep the roots of the mix of religion and ultra-nationalism are (‘Make America Christian Again: Christian Nationalism and Voting for Donald Trump in the 2016 Presidential Election, Sociology of Religion, Vol. 2, No. 2, 2018). When Russian president Vladimir Putin says, ‘Russia up from its knee’ or Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orban says ‘Europe has to be protected for The Europeans’, they speak of populist ultra-nationalism, which is not limited to the question of one’s own identity but extends far beyond defining one’s identity. It creates toxic divisions in the society and engenders hate. The divisions are crafted in the name of patriotism, and nationalism. This kind of hatred — whether it is emanating from within or outside the country — is a sign of a supremacist mindset; it breeds intolerance, undermines plurality, and challenges the very foundation of democracy. This is constructed to undermine their opposition’s legitimacy. Opposing them becomes a crime. This is how dissent is criminalised. India’s ruling BJP followed this path as much as it dragged the country towards a semi-authoritarian state. Such a trend is not so difficult to discern in Bangladesh. Cloaked in the concept of ‘the spirit of liberation war’, a particular interpretation of patriotism has been made the only acceptable expression of patriotism.
History has become another weapon for the new dictators. Autocratic leaders are obsessed with history. Those who have followed the course of events in Russia and Hungary must have noticed how a particular narrative of history is being created and how laws have been made to protect this official narrative. India’s rulers are engaged in a war of saffronisation of history, that is to write the history which views the past through the lens of the Hindutva ideology. But history cannot have a single reading. History can be read and re-read over time, not only with new discoveries but also from a different vantage point. When a single official narrative of history is made the only narrative, history dies, or rather this is the ‘murder of history’. Such endeavour is not meant only to legitimise the regime, but also to shape the future course of history. Rewriting the history and constructing a single narrative draws boundaries for academics and journalists — what can be spoken about, and what should be silenced. Legal and extralegal measures are adopted to enforce these boundaries, often through the threat of intimidation.
What role for intellectuals?
DURING this crisis of democracy when the new autocrats are in ascendence and limits and boundaries are being imposed on thoughts and expressions, what role an intellectual can play is the question that has become important.
In 1967, when the United States was embroiled in the Vietnam War and there were protests across the country against it, a young author wrote an article about the responsibilities of intellectuals during that crisis. The author’s name is Noam Chomsky. He wrote, ‘It is the responsibility of intellectuals to speak the truth and to expose lies.’ He espoused, ‘Intellectuals are in a position to expose the lies of the governments, to analyze actions according to their causes and motives and often hidden intentions (The Responsibility of an Intellectual, The New York Review of Books, February 23, 1967).’ In his scathing criticisms of US policy regarding Vietnam and conformity, even peddling official narratives regarding the war by some academics, Chomsky reminded that, ‘The responsibilities of intellectuals, then, are much deeper than […] the “responsibility of people”, given the unique privileges that intellectuals enjoy.’ Although he was speaking about intellectuals in Western societies, particularly the United States, these are equally true to any society, particularly at a time of crisis. Chomsky’s essay had pointed to and engaged with the academic apologists who were propounding, magnifying, and justifying the official arguments of the US government.
This is important to note, and pertinent at a time of a global crisis of democracy, irrespective of the country. This can be a measure to consider one as an intellectual. What role s/he played when the foundation of the democracy was attacked and whether s/he has made the pernicious campaign against the tolerance and equality acceptable to society and future generations, should be examined. Hate breeds hate, whether it is expressed or propagated as religion, nationalism, or a certain ideology. And when it becomes the instrument of the ruling party, it becomes even more perilous. India is a case in point. On the other hand, the role played by many Indian intellectuals challenging the ‘Saffronisation project’ of the ruling BJP shows that such a statist project can be confronted.
Chomsky further said, ‘if it is the responsibility of the intellectual to insist upon the truth, it is also his duty to see events in their historical perspective.’ It is clear from his words that the task of the intellectual is to separate the truth from deception and contextualise them. We can extrapolate his argument to the current situation and see how the autocrats shape history to their needs.
On the role of the intellectuals, we can also recall what Vaclav Havel wrote in 1986: ‘the intellectual should constantly disturb, should bear witness to the misery of the world, should be provocative by being independent, should rebel against all hidden and open pressure and manipulations, should be the chief doubter of systems, of power and its incantations, should be a witness to their mendacity’.
As the world faces a difficult time, democracy is in reversal in many countries, new autocrats are adopting legal and extralegal measures to shrink the space for dissent, and pernicious polarisation are encouraged, apologists of the regimes are out and about to legitimise these. In such an adverse situation, it is incumbent on intellectuals to speak the truth to the power. Questioning the veracity of the official claims is just one aspect, but more importantly, intellectuals need to stand for pluralism, inclusivity and freedom of expression. Until one does so, s/he is not worthy of being called an intellectual.
Ali Riaz is a distinguished professor of political science at Illinois State University, non-resident senior fellow of the Atlantic Council and president of the American Institute of Bangladesh Studies.