I’ve been spending a fair bit of time reading up on civil society, democracy, and politics more generally in a cross-cultural perspective. Being an anthropologist, but also someone committed to the idea of social justice, I am left in a bit of a dilemma: Do our ideals of democracy apply universally? How far and in what ways is cultural relativism relevant when discussing topics like democracy?
Certainly in both American foreign policy and in the social sciences the term tends to get used as a universal ideal. There’s a certain evangelical ring in a lot of the official policy discourse about spreading “democracy and freedom” around the world. In the social sciences, some writers tend to reduce democracy to a few institutions or a method of decision making such as elections—a tradition that grew out of Joseph Schumpeter’s writings. Others, like Robert Dahl, have defined ideals first and gone out to test to see if certain institutions realizes these ideals, but with little sensitivity to the fact that the ideals chosen may be influenced the scholars own social and cultural background.
A book I am finding very thought provoking on this topic is Frederic Shaffer’s Democracy in Translation. Political Scientist by training, Schafer uses linguistic and ethnographic methods to try to understand how native Wolof speakers in Senegal speak and think about democracy. Schafer then compares these ideas to elite discourses in Senegal, to American understandings of democracy, and to academic theories of democracy. His focus is on understanding Wolof perceptions of democracy in their own terms and the variety of ideals that may guide democratic institutions (8). What he finds is that both popular ideals and academic theories of democracy differ substantially from understandings of democracy on the ground in Senegal.
Demokaraasi, the Wolof term, although etymologically related to the term “democracy” focuses on consensus, even handedness, and solidarity (84). In other words, a common Senegalese conception of democracy does not focus on individual freedom to decide who to vote for, breadth of participation, keeping elected officials accountable, or the creation of at least an ostensibly equal political sphere. Instead, maintaining community solidarity and networks of reciprocity; a sense of fair treatment from those higher in the political hierarchy; and general amicable agreement are considered more important. The implications of this difference can be profound. For example, people in Senegal often choose their vote so as to maintain smooth social functioning rather than for a particular candidates platform (98). Even vote-buying can be a completely ethical form of exchange if it is perceived to be part of a properly reciprocal relationship (98).
However, Schaffer does not argue that democracy is untranslatable or that some cultures simply cannot conceive of democracy. Rather he argues that: “Democracy,”…is unique in the particular combination of its features; but each individual feature may still have analogues in other languages and cultures” (145). The ideals that come to be associate with democracy in any particular case are a mix of more familiar, internationally recognizable forms, and local concerns and culture. Which ideals become important and how they shape politics, however, and mean every case deserves its own attention. Schaffer’s approach has the advantage of not reducing democracy to simply elections nor relying on the uncritical use of measurements that rely on culturally specific political ideals.
However, the book never resolves the issue of whether these cultural forms are sometimes a type of false consciousness, or ideology, or veneer that hide exploitative or authoritarian realities. What are your experiences with democracy or discussing democracy with other people? Do you think democracy is universal or culturally relative?