Elections

In the elections of the prince and the magistrates, which are, as I have said, complex acts, there are two possible methods of procedure, choice and lot. Both have been employed in various republics, and a highly complicated mixture of the two still survives in the election of the Doge at Venice.

As I have said, electing the prince and the magistrates involves complex acts. There are two possible methods: choosing candidates or drawing lots. Both methods have been used in various republics. A highly complicated combination of the two is still used to elect the Doge at Venice.

"Election by lot," says Montesquieu, "is democratic in nature." I agree that it is so; but in what sense? "The lot," he goes on, "is a way of making choice that is unfair to nobody; it leaves each citizen a reasonable hope of serving his country." These are not reasons.

"Choosing by lot," says Montesquieu, "is democratic by nature." I agree, but in what sense? "Drawing lots," he continues, "is a way of choosing that is unfair to no one. It gives every citizen a reasonable hope of serving his country." These are not reasons.

If we bear in mind that the election of rulers is a function of government, and not of Sovereignty, we shall see why the lot is the method more natural to democracy, in which the administration is better in proportion as the number of its acts is small.

If we remember that choosing rulers is a function of government, not Sovereignty, we can see why democracy naturally favors drawing lots. In a democracy, the fewer actions the administration takes, the better it is.

In every real democracy, magistracy is not an advantage, but a burdensome charge which cannot justly be imposed on one individual rather than another. The law alone can lay the charge on him on whom the lot falls. For, the conditions being then the same for all, and the choice not depending on any human will, there is no particular application to alter the universality of the law.

In every true democracy, holding public office is not a privilege but a heavy burden. That burden cannot justly be imposed on one person rather than another. Only the law can impose the burden on whoever is chosen by lot. For then, the conditions are the same for everyone, and the choice does not depend on anyone’s will. So no decision about a particular person changes the law’s equal application to everyone.

In an aristocracy, the prince chooses the prince, the government is preserved by itself, and voting is rightly ordered.

In an aristocracy, the governing body chooses its own members. The government maintains itself, and voting is properly organized.

The instance of the election of the Doge of Venice confirms, instead of destroying, this distinction; the mixed form suits a mixed government. For it is an error to take the government of Venice for a real aristocracy. If the people has no share in the government, the nobility is itself the people. A host of poor Barnabotes never gets near any magistracy, and its nobility consists merely in the empty title of Excellency, and in the right to sit in the Great Council. As this Great Council is as numerous as our General Council at Geneva, its illustrious members have no more privileges than our plain citizens. It is indisputable that, apart from the extreme disparity between the two republics, the bourgeoisie of Geneva is exactly equivalent to the patriciate of Venice; our natives and inhabitants correspond to the townsmen and the people of Venice; our peasants correspond to the subjects on the mainland; and, however that republic be regarded, if its size be left out of account, its government is no more aristocratic than our own. The whole difference is that, having no life-ruler, we do not, like Venice, need to use the lot.

The election of the Doge of Venice confirms this distinction rather than undermining it. A mixed method of election suits a mixed government. It is a mistake to see Venice’s government as a true aristocracy. If the people have no part in government, the nobility itself forms the people. A great many poor Barnabotes never come close to holding public office. Their noble status consists only of the empty title of Excellency and the right to sit in the Great Council. This Great Council has as many members as our General Council in Geneva. So its illustrious members have no more privileges than our ordinary citizens. Despite the vast difference in size between the two republics, the following comparison is beyond dispute. Geneva’s bourgeoisie is exactly equivalent to Venice’s patriciate. Our natives and inhabitants correspond to Venice’s townsmen and people. Our peasants correspond to the subjects on the mainland. However we view that republic, if we set aside its size, its government is no more aristocratic than ours. The only difference is that we have no ruler who holds office for life. So, unlike Venice, we have no need to draw lots.

Election by lot would have few disadvantages in a real democracy, in which, as equality would everywhere exist in morals and talents as well as in principles and fortunes, it would become almost a matter of indifference who was chosen. But I have already said that a real democracy is only an ideal.

Choosing officials by lot would have few drawbacks in a true democracy. In such a democracy, everyone would be equal in morals and talents, as well as in principles and wealth. Because of this equality, it would hardly matter who was chosen. But I have already said that a true democracy is only an ideal.

When choice and lot are combined, positions that require special talents, such as military posts, should be filled by the former; the latter does for cases, such as judicial offices, in which good sense, justice, and integrity are enough, because in a State that is well constituted, these qualities are common to all the citizens.

When election and drawing lots are combined, elections should fill positions requiring special talents, such as military posts. Drawing lots is suitable for positions such as judicial offices, where good sense, justice, and integrity are enough. This is because, in a well-organized state, all citizens have these qualities.

Neither lot nor vote has any place in monarchical government. The monarch being by right sole prince and only magistrate, the choice of his lieutenants belongs to none but him. When the Abbé de Saint-Pierre proposed that the Councils of the King of France should be multiplied, and their members elected by ballot, he did not see that he was proposing to change the form of government.

Neither random selection nor voting has any place in a monarchy. The monarch alone has the right to govern and hold executive office. So only he can choose his deputies. The Abbé de Saint-Pierre proposed increasing the number of councils serving the King of France and electing their members by ballot. He did not realize that his proposal would change the form of government.

I should now speak of the methods of giving and counting opinions in the assembly of the people; but perhaps an account of this aspect of the Roman constitution will more forcibly illustrate all the rules I could lay down. It is worth the while of a judicious reader to follow in some detail the working of public and private affairs in a Council consisting of two hundred thousand men.

I should now discuss how votes are cast and counted in the people’s assembly. But perhaps describing this part of the Roman constitution will illustrate all the rules I could give more effectively. A thoughtful reader will find it worthwhile to examine in some detail how public and private affairs were handled in a Council of two hundred thousand men.