Democracy or Bonapartism

Chapter 1 – The Fight for the Vote: A Tortuous and Still-Unfinished History

Losurdo begins by framing the struggle for universal suffrage as an arduous and incomplete historical process. He emphasizes that the right to vote has never been a simple, automatic extension of modernity, but rather the product of intense, often violent conflict. In contrast to triumphalist liberal narratives that depict democracy as the inevitable unfolding of enlightened principles, he insists that the expansion of suffrage was repeatedly resisted by entrenched elites determined to maintain property qualifications and other restrictions.

The chapter opens by examining how, even after the American and French Revolutions, the majority of the population was systematically excluded from political participation. Losurdo shows how the American Republic restricted voting rights to white male property holders. In France, the Revolution abolished many privileges but quickly recoiled into systems of restricted franchise, particularly after the Thermidorian Reaction and the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte. In both contexts, property-based exclusions were defended as necessary safeguards against “the uneducated masses,” revealing a profound contradiction between proclaimed universal ideals and actual social practice.

He then moves into a comparative analysis of Europe. In Britain, the right to vote advanced only through protracted struggles, including the Chartist movement and repeated petitions that were frequently rejected by Parliament. Even the celebrated Reform Acts of the nineteenth century were partial concessions designed to blunt more radical demands. Losurdo highlights that each expansion of suffrage in Britain was accompanied by discourses portraying the working class as childish, irrational, or susceptible to demagoguery—tropes that would recur whenever elites sought to limit political participation.

Turning to Germany, Losurdo discusses how Prussia’s three-class voting system institutionalized massive inequality, granting disproportionate power to large property owners and industrial magnates. This arrangement was portrayed as rational and stabilizing, reinforcing the idea that democracy must be “tempered” by elite control. He notes how similar arguments were echoed in debates over suffrage in Italy and Spain, showing that fears of the “dangerous classes” transcended national boundaries.

He devotes a section to the United States’ persistent disenfranchisement of Black Americans, especially after the end of Reconstruction. While the Fifteenth Amendment formally guaranteed the vote regardless of race, the reality was systematic voter suppression through literacy tests, poll taxes, and terror tactics. Losurdo argues that these practices were not accidental deviations but essential features of a social order unwilling to tolerate the empowerment of freed slaves.

The chapter closes by reflecting on the paradox that even as universal suffrage has gradually been extended, mechanisms to neutralize it have also proliferated. Gerrymandering, campaign financing, voter suppression laws, and plebiscitary manipulation (where a strong leader claims to embody the popular will) are all strategies by which elites have learned to domesticate democracy. Losurdo warns that this tension is not a relic of the past but a defining characteristic of modern political life.

Chapter 3 – An Alternative to Property Qualifications: The Origins of Bonapartism, from America to France

Losurdo opens this chapter by exploring how Bonapartism emerged as a political solution to the contradictions of universal suffrage. He argues that while property qualifications had previously restricted voting to the propertied classes, Bonapartism offered an alternative: maintaining elite rule not by exclusion, but by organizing mass consent around charismatic leadership and plebiscitary mechanisms.

He begins with the American context. Losurdo notes that in the early United States, as property requirements were gradually dismantled, there was an anxious search among elites for new ways to contain popular sovereignty. The presidency of Andrew Jackson is presented as an early example of a plebiscitary model, where a powerful leader claimed a direct mandate from the people and used that legitimacy to consolidate authority. Though Jackson’s policies included significant democratizing measures, Losurdo insists that the style of leadership—personalized, anti-institutional, and reliant on appeals to the masses—prefigured later Bonapartist forms.

Next, he turns to France. The rise of Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte (Napoleon III) is depicted as the archetype of Bonapartism. In 1848, universal male suffrage was introduced as part of the Second Republic. But within four years, it was transformed into an instrument for establishing authoritarian rule. Losurdo details how Napoleon III used the plebiscite of December 1851—ostensibly a referendum on constitutional reform—to secure overwhelming approval for a coup d’état.

He underscores that Bonapartism did not suppress the principle of popular sovereignty; it redefined it. Elections and referenda became ritual affirmations of a predetermined order rather than spaces for authentic contestation. Losurdo emphasizes that this was an innovation of enormous historical significance: a model where universal suffrage was not only compatible with dictatorship but became its essential foundation.

The chapter then examines the ideological underpinnings of this transformation. The Bonapartist narrative portrayed the leader as the true embodiment of national unity, above the petty quarrels of parties and parliaments. The people were cast as a single, homogenous body whose will could be directly interpreted by the ruler. In this scheme, intermediary institutions—legislatures, independent courts, the press—were depicted as obstructive relics of the past.

Losurdo argues that this conception of democracy as plebiscitary acclamation was extraordinarily resilient. It reappeared in multiple guises throughout modern history, from Bismarck’s Germany to twentieth-century fascist movements. What unified these phenomena was the insistence that the people’s sovereignty could be expressed more purely by direct identification with a charismatic leader than through institutional pluralism.

The chapter closes with a warning. Bonapartism, Losurdo argues, represents a seductive alternative to parliamentary democracy because it promises order and simplicity. It appeals to those disillusioned by the complexities and compromises of representative institutions. But beneath this promise lies the essential dynamic: the construction of a passive citizenry whose only role is to confirm decisions already made in their name.

Chapter 4 – The Trumpets of the Ruling Classes and the Bells of the Subaltern

Losurdo begins this chapter by observing that Bonapartism was never merely a matter of institutional engineering or plebiscitary ritual. It was also sustained by powerful ideological currents and cultural practices designed to win over broad segments of society. To understand how this worked, he examines the contrasting ways the ruling classes and the popular classes communicated and mobilized support—what he metaphorically calls the “trumpets” of the elites and the “bells” of the subaltern.

The “trumpets” refer to the formidable apparatus of propaganda and symbolic representation that Bonapartist regimes deployed. Louis-Napoleon carefully crafted a mythology around his uncle’s imperial legacy, presenting himself as the guarantor of national greatness, stability, and prosperity. Public spectacles, monuments, mass rallies, and the controlled press all contributed to the aura of legitimacy. Losurdo emphasizes that these techniques created a form of political theater in which citizens were made to feel both included and awed, confirming the leader’s unique role as the embodiment of the people’s will.

He also describes how Bonapartism skillfully exploited fear: fear of revolution, fear of social upheaval, and fear of foreign enemies. These anxieties were cultivated to justify the suspension of parliamentary life and the concentration of power in a single executive. The ruling classes, even those initially skeptical of Bonaparte’s populist rhetoric, came to see the regime as the lesser evil compared to the specter of socialist revolution.

In contrast, Losurdo turns to the “bells” of the subaltern—the strategies the working class and other marginalized groups developed to resist and contest the Bonapartist order. He recounts how clandestine publications, workers’ societies, and local assemblies worked to preserve spaces of independent political culture. Although these counterpublics were often fragmented and beset by repression, they maintained alternative narratives that challenged the regime’s monopolization of popular legitimacy.

He provides examples of resistance in France during the Second Empire, including strikes, demonstrations, and the slow reconstruction of republican organizations. Losurdo also points out that Bonapartism never fully succeeded in extinguishing dissent, which periodically resurfaced in moments of crisis, especially during military defeats or economic downturns.

The chapter highlights the ambivalence of many intermediate strata—small property holders, artisans, provincial notables—who oscillated between support and suspicion of the Bonapartist regime. Losurdo argues that this ambivalence was not accidental. Bonapartism deliberately presented itself as a reconciliatory force, bridging the gap between the upper and lower classes. This political synthesis was sustained by promises of material benefits, nationalist appeals, and the constant invocation of order against chaos.

Losurdo closes by noting that the Bonapartist repertoire—the combination of spectacle, fear, economic concessions, and claims to embody the general will—would prove highly adaptable. It offered a template for later regimes that sought to manage mass politics without surrendering elite power, including the fascist movements of the twentieth century.

Chapter 5 – The Bonapartist Regime’s Baptism of Fire

Losurdo begins this chapter by stressing that no political regime can be understood apart from its relationship to war. For Bonapartism, military conflict was not just an accident of history but a central mechanism for consolidating power, projecting legitimacy, and disciplining society. He calls this the “baptism of fire,” the moment when the Bonapartist state’s internal dynamics fused with the external demands of imperial expansion.

The chapter opens with a detailed analysis of the Crimean War (1853–1856), in which Napoleon III committed France to an alliance with Britain and the Ottoman Empire against Russia. Losurdo emphasizes how this war served multiple purposes for the regime. Domestically, it diverted attention from political repression and economic grievances by uniting the nation around a patriotic cause. Internationally, it allowed Napoleon III to position himself as the arbiter of European balance, bolstering his prestige.

He describes how the regime deployed propaganda to cast the war as a civilizational struggle, portraying France as the champion of progress and liberty against Russian despotism. Losurdo notes the irony that this narrative was used by an authoritarian regime that had extinguished domestic republican institutions. He argues that such paradoxes were intrinsic to Bonapartism: the system needed grand external missions to sustain its internal authority.

After the Crimean conflict, the regime embarked on further imperial adventures, notably in Italy. Napoleon III’s intervention in the Second Italian War of Independence (1859) aimed to weaken Austria and support the cause of Italian unification under the House of Savoy. Here again, Losurdo sees a dual strategy: consolidating the Emperor’s popularity at home while expanding France’s influence abroad.

Yet these military campaigns came with costs. Losurdo details how the burdens of taxation, conscription, and casualties gradually eroded support among sectors of the population. He describes the contradictory effects: military glory fostered loyalty among some strata, especially those who benefited economically, but also sowed disillusionment among workers and peasants.

The chapter then shifts focus to the Mexican expedition (1861–1867), a disastrous attempt to establish a puppet monarchy under Maximilian of Habsburg. Losurdo argues that this adventure laid bare the structural weaknesses of Bonapartism: overreach, reliance on illusionary prestige, and a chronic underestimation of popular resistance in occupied territories. The Mexican fiasco contributed significantly to the slow unraveling of Napoleon III’s domestic authority.

Throughout, Losurdo highlights that Bonapartist warfare was never only about conquest—it was about performing power. Military triumphs were orchestrated spectacles that reinforced the myth of the leader as providential savior. But as the failures accumulated, the very instrument of legitimacy became a source of vulnerability.

The chapter concludes by reflecting on the fatal consequences of this dynamic. The regime’s dependence on external success created an unsustainable cycle of intervention and overextension, ultimately culminating in the catastrophic defeat in the Franco-Prussian War.

Chapter 6 – Universal Suffrage, Proportional Representation and the Protection of Minorities

Losurdo opens this chapter by noting that the collapse of Bonapartism after the Franco-Prussian War forced Europe to reconsider the relationship between universal suffrage and authoritarian rule. He argues that while the defeat discredited Louis-Napoleon’s plebiscitary dictatorship, it did not resolve the deeper question: how could mass electoral participation coexist with genuine protections for pluralism and minority rights?

The chapter begins by recounting debates in post-1870 France. After the fall of the Second Empire, the Third Republic maintained universal male suffrage but sought to create institutional safeguards against the re-emergence of charismatic autocracy. Losurdo describes the design of parliamentary institutions, the strengthening of civil liberties, and the development of a multi-party system as deliberate counterweights to Bonapartist centralization.

He then moves to Germany. The newly unified German Empire established the Reichstag, elected by universal male suffrage. Yet, as Losurdo emphasizes, this was combined with an authoritarian executive controlled by the Kaiser and Chancellor Bismarck. The German model showed that universal suffrage alone did not guarantee democratic outcomes. Bismarck, like Napoleon III, cultivated a populist appeal while governing through decree and repression.

From there, Losurdo broadens his scope to examine how different countries experimented with electoral systems to avoid Bonapartist concentration of power. One solution was proportional representation. He devotes significant attention to the origins and diffusion of proportional systems, particularly in Belgium and parts of Germany. Proponents argued that proportional representation could prevent the artificial majorities and simplified plebiscites that allowed leaders to claim a monolithic popular mandate.

Losurdo explains how proportional representation was designed not only to reflect the diversity of opinion but to protect political minorities from being crushed by winner-takes-all contests. He underscores that this was not merely a technical issue of seat allocation—it was a broader philosophical commitment to pluralism and constitutional restraint.

He also discusses the criticism of proportional systems. Opponents claimed they led to fragmentation, weak governments, and excessive bargaining among parties. Losurdo acknowledges that proportional representation can create challenges for stable governance, but he insists that it remains a necessary antidote to Bonapartist simplification of politics into binary plebiscites.

The chapter includes a reflection on the United States, where the majoritarian, district-based system entrenched two-party dominance and often suppressed alternative voices. Losurdo argues that while American institutions were not Bonapartist, they nonetheless showed how electoral systems can limit real democratic participation when they fail to protect minorities and pluralism.

He closes by reiterating that democracy must be more than the formal right to vote. The procedures of representation, the protection of dissent, and the institutionalization of conflict are all essential safeguards against the transformation of democracy into a tool of plebiscitary authoritarianism.

Chapter 7 – Bonapartism as the Nemesis of Democracy

Losurdo opens this final chapter by arguing that Bonapartism is not merely an episode of nineteenth-century French history. Instead, it is a recurring political logic—a structural tendency that haunts modern democracies whenever mass participation collides with elite fear of losing control. He calls it the “nemesis of democracy,” because it arises precisely from the contradictions inherent in universal suffrage and popular sovereignty.

The chapter begins by summarizing the core features of Bonapartism developed across the book: charismatic leadership claiming direct identification with the people, the reduction of politics to plebiscitary rituals, the suppression or bypassing of intermediary institutions, and the combination of social concessions with authoritarian centralization.

Losurdo then discusses how this model reemerged in different contexts. He points to the rise of Caesarist regimes in Italy under Mussolini and in Germany under Hitler. While these movements differed in ideology and scale of violence, they shared essential Bonapartist features: the personal embodiment of national unity, plebiscitary legitimation, and the promise to reconcile social conflict by transcending “party squabbles.”

He emphasizes that even outside fascist experiments, the Bonapartist temptation persists. In various democracies, leaders have cultivated a quasi-plebiscitary relationship with voters, undermining the role of legislatures, parties, and courts. Losurdo mentions twentieth-century populist leaders who claimed to be the sole authentic interpreters of the people’s will, thereby hollowing out the institutional pluralism necessary for a functioning democracy.

The chapter also explores how media transformations contributed to this dynamic. Losurdo argues that mass circulation newspapers in the nineteenth century, and later radio and television, created unprecedented opportunities for direct communication between the leader and the masses, bypassing intermediaries. He draws a parallel to contemporary digital platforms, warning that new technologies can reinforce Bonapartist tendencies by personalizing political engagement and reducing deliberation to spectacle.

He returns to the philosophical underpinnings of this system: the conviction that society can only be unified by a transcendent figure who embodies the general interest. Losurdo traces this idea back to Rousseau’s notion of the “general will,” but he insists that in practice, this concept has often justified the suppression of dissent in the name of unanimity.

As the chapter proceeds, Losurdo underscores that Bonapartism is attractive because it offers certainty and coherence in times of crisis. When social conflicts threaten to overwhelm political institutions, the appeal of a strong, unifying leader becomes almost irresistible. Yet he warns that this comes at a steep price: the erosion of democratic culture and the infantilization of citizens, whose role is reduced to acclamation and passive consent.

In closing, Losurdo insists that genuine democracy requires more than universal suffrage. It demands institutionalized conflict, respect for minorities, and the preservation of countervailing powers that prevent any single force from claiming to speak exclusively for the people. He calls on readers to resist the Bonapartist impulse by defending pluralism and the complexity of democratic life—even when it is messy, inefficient, or frustrating.