When I was fourteen an acquaintance from high school took a dare. He climbed up the huge structure that supported a power line; it took an hour for him to reach the top, but from where we were below it seemed like an eternity. When he reached the top he waved confidently, then to our amazement there was a huge spark. Two hours later when the police brought his body down his metal rimmed glasses were molten slabs fused to his face. They made us see it. All that I remember distinctly of the incident in the absurd smirk on his face which was the only visible expression on his horribly charred body.

When we went to the March in New York in my freshman year it was grand. In wrote down in my notebook how reinvigorating it was to march through such a large city with several thousand people and feel free and powerful with them. We were a community ad we talked together as we moved along. Here within the heartland of the city-land I was finally feeling at home a little. We did not accomplish much; but the thing that made it so poignant for me, even now, was that I have been to New York on five separate occasions and I cannot remember ever having spoken to anyone of the ten millions who live there while on the streets.

Whenever one thinks of American political democracy one finds oneself thinking of the workings of American political parties. It has become nearly second-nature for people to assume that the workings of American parties and American democracy are synonymous. For a society which agrees about this image of the democratic process it would seem inappropriate to suggest that the main influence on the government that of the party system, contradicts the democratic intent. Americans have always held that political parties, this nation's political parties anyway, are inherent to the functioning of democracy.

But this impression is historically false. When this nation began the founding fathers were opposed to political parties. "Let me now take a more comprehensive view," said George Washington in his farewell address, "and warn you in the most solemn manner against the baneful effects of the spirit of party." Our worries are different from the ones which plagued Washington in his time but a similar question does reappear in the modern context, namely, what is the relationship of political parties to the functioning of American democracy?

One must begin with an understanding of the term democracy. For in America we are perilously close to raising the image of democracy to a secular from of religion without every really understanding this god that we worships.

The most comprehensive way to approach American democracy is to look at its genesis. But the sources of American democracy have never been well understood. When in the late nineteenth century Frederick Jackson Turner, a Harvard professor of History, came out with his thesis attributing the growth of democracy to the influence of the frontier environment, it was greeted with warm applause, then critically torn to shreds. Yes, America had developed its own brand of democracy the critics agree; but, no, the "frontier" thesis was not an accurate analysis of its growth. Since that time no single work has appeared to unravel the somewhat mysterious evolution of American democracy.

One is not left in total ignorance, however. There has appeared a effort to characterize the homeland in which democracy developed, and thus identify the impetus behind it.

Democracy flourished on the frontier. First in the small towns of New England, then later in the prosperity of the middle western plains, democracy grew in the process of town building and the community effort required to produce prosperity. Abraham Lincoln was its symbol and proponent in the nineteenth century.

The growth of democracy was characterized by three related elements: widespread participation in the political process which was deeper and more meaningful than the ceremonial functioning of casting one's ballot; open access to elective office which does not pretend to be compatible with the development of an office holding elite; and thirdly, a sense among the people that they did possess the ability to effectively manipulate their government. These concepts are interrelated, and each of them makes a common contribution: opening, and keeping open, channels between the people and the government.

Yet time has transformed America. At the start of this century Progressives tried to give more life to American democracy and Theodore Roosevelt boomed out the old spirit in new forms. But the modern century was not as simple as the last -- the communities had already been built and the frontier had been closed -- the American environment had radically changed.

American entered a war in the world community, and when it emerged it spirit was drained and its passion tempered. Then technology spread across the land, and in little time and with almost no effort the large majority of Americans owned cars and television. The government formally took upon itself the assurance of economic prosperity in 1946, so that by today most people think they have nothing to do but complete their lives without much bother. Most of us can sit in our metropolitan communities, pleasantly board.

It should be clear that the homeland of democracy has changed. The environment that served from the genesis of a working democracy is no longer, and democracy now sits atop the bustle of highly industrialized society only in name.

The new arena is composed of corporations, cities, and bureaucracy. Corporations have a pervasive influence, cities are the home of most of the people, and bureaucracy seems to be the major characteristic of government. All this is very different from the climate of the last century. And democracy, in this new neighborhood, has certainly undergone alterations.

But, more importantly, the characteristics of the American people have changed. The nature of America is dull. Wrapped in the red tape and the scientific technology that makes the present impossible, we are future oriented. We live, thus, ignoring immediate frustrations, assured by a moment in the future.

To take a dare and be close to danger is difficult in America. Not much more than a hundred years ago one could have wandered through unknown wilderness, chanced upon a few angry Indians and been killed, or run into wild animals to be trampled to death, or have to cross the plains and, running out of supplies, simply die of starvation. The world was an unavoidable challenge. Of the first Pilgrims who landed at Plymouth, one half of them died in the first few months, and those who remained began a new experience in which danger was common and to face it only commonly courageous.

Now we have only fear. Scared to walk on the streets of Cambridge, afraid to drive in Roxbury, frightened by the news of violent acts, the response of people is to shutter the windows, bolt the door, and scream for more police protection.

It is the liberal experience, the experience of the technological, affluent class, to scribble messages in letter-to-the-editor and hope to have them accepted. With long range plans and comprehensive goals, America lives in quiet, apprehensive fright.

Undoubtedly this description of past and present is an exaggeration. But the characterization contains a clear Kernel of truth. In the new industrial state the initiative of America has seeped away, and in its place we are left with only fear and dependence. The spirit that pushed the American frontier ever Westward is increasingly a diminishing force in the people.

The metropolitan communities which have replaced the small towns and frontiers have also given the American nature another aspect. We live closer together and yet farther apart. Americans live more to the square mile than ever before, and yet are more reluctant to go next door to ask for a bottle of milk. Football is favorite national sport, because it gives us the sense of missing community experience, but on the subways everyone looks at the ceiling. We delight in togetherness on occasions, but shy away from each other the rest of the time. Thus, the cities have not increased the sense of community that animated the frontier-town building era of America, but really undermined it.

If the American people have come less to reflect the characteristics prominent during the genesis of democracy, it should not be surprising to find the same decline in their most non-governmental institution, the political parties.

Most historians agree that the political party system originally served to stimulate the participation of the people in government. When the two-party system was established in the 1830's, there was no transmission belt between the people and their state and federal government. For this reason the people's participation in state and national governments was bodly limited. But with the coming of political parties the voter turnout jumped to a record high of 80 per cent for the national election of 1840.

But today's changed environment for democracy has obviously altered the effect of political parties too. The political party of the 1840's that sponsored community events such as torchlit processions on election eve and encouraged the people to participate in essential decisions by calling mass meetings, now cuts off the people from the campaigning by relying heavily of television ad men. It never disturbs the deliberations of the Senate by calling for demonstrations of mass-support from the people. In 1832 President Andrew Jackson called on the people to reaffirm his decision to terminate the charter of the United States Bank. But, an equally complicated decision in this decade, such as the deployment of the ABM, would never be appealed to the people through the party process.

The age of democratic parties which called on the people to decide the issues on the people to decide the issues and encouraged their participation and community-sense had fallen to the level of technological parties. The modern party, caught in the industrial states, uses the technology of television. The appeal leaves the people in their individual homes and naturally stifles discussion of the issues either between leader and follower or among the followers themselves. Technology allows the bureaucratic agencies of the government to infiltrate areas of local control, and thus eliminate participation by the people in administering their own power agencies. In the close living quarters of the metropolis the people have found no other effective way of reconstituting a sense of community spirit.

One can now arrive at a fair estimation of the answer to the question posed at the beginning of this article. That is, what is the relationship of the functioning of political parties to the functioning of American democracy?

Overall, the answer must be that our political parties, operating, in an environment that undermines the sociological impetus toward democracy, provide additional obstructions to the operation of political democracy. Instead of aiding the political democracy of this nation as they once did, political parties now discourage that course.

This line of argument approaches a mildly radical critique of political parties in this nation. It does not call forth the forces which would like to abolish and have done with the Democrats and Republicans.

On the contrary, one is faced with a decision. Either America's political parties must reform their attitudes toward campaigning and their methods of doing so, or a system must be found in which the role of political parties in organizing and stimulating the electorate will be superceded. If neither of these alternatives are taken, it is certain that the vitality of American democracy will further decline.

Of the alternatives, the reform of the political process seems the method least likely to produce instability and disruption of the system.

It is not difficult to imagine how political parties might put to use the capabilities of the technological age to encourage the workings of a political democracy. One could envisage many uses of mass communications that might encourage the people to discuss the issues confronting America and take a greater part in the political process that decides those issue. The closeness of human living quarters could easily be used to encourage public discussions and massive participation. Also the bigness of bureaucratic government could easily be used to involve more people in the power structure of their government.

But reform from within seems more difficult if one considers that the parties must initiate it. For those within the system it requires a faith in the democratic process larger than their desire for political office; for eventually any system that encourages participation will encourage challenges to the ruling elite. Even starting a new party dedicated to new methods and begun with more of a reliance on the electorate would not insure that if it won acceptance and gained power the same reaction would not set in.

The other alternative, that of a system which supercedes political parties, is likely to produce more instability. This is probable because of it does into organize as a party which seeks political office, it will always represent so direct a challenge to those people who do hold power that it will probably provoke a violent and overwhelming response from the ruling class.

The group that arrived recently at Harvard (call it the King Collins-group for convenience) is probably a good example of this type of over militant faction. Collins encourages participation by the people in the decisions over their lives, and he encourages dialogue on all the essential issues which face the individual. Recognizing the revolutionary, and laudable, aims of this group, it still worries me that all their intentions and methods are bound to cause to kind of disruption that will provide the system of power with an excuse to crush it.

Thus, any group which tries to encourage democratic participation outside the system of political parties (which does not mean that one has no option but to work within the two existing parties) is bound to run into trouble. But unless the political parties of the U.S. are able to reform themselves, or more likely, unless a great new, genuinely democratic mass political party is established, America will prove unable to retain any degree of her democratic heritage.

As we drove to Washington in the fall of my sophomore year I was scared. we were going to a black kid's house and there was the rumor of riot for the ghetto that day. Besides that, there were constant radio reports that more troops were being readied as more marchers arrived. But when the final confrontation came we had a feeling of power over the situation. Unlike any other relations with my government, I could not see that it was reacting to the force of our group. The march changed nothing, perhaps hurt the cause, but one had a great sense of being able to influence. And even months afterwards the thought lingered in my blood that we had finally found an effective tactic.Election Day Demonstration. Towards a New Politics?