Democracy, we are told, is in crisis. Perhaps in its greatest crisis since the emergence of the various totalitarianisms in Europe a century ago, in the famous twenties and thirties with which our historical times are so often compared. test From the balcony of our political systems we can see a complex of old and new problems that challenge the effectiveness of liberal democracies (climate change, internet and technological acceleration, inequality, migrations, pandemics or unemployment). They do so, moreover, at a time when the institutions themselves feel that the ground is shifting under their feet, afflicted by a mixture of political problems ranging from polarization and post-truth to the now classic issues of populism, the European Union, decentralization and the crisis of representation.

Politics, moreover, is not only made in the institutions, but society as a whole seems to have been affected by that shifting ground that we so often link to social networks and the realization that the Internet has not improved public conversation. Democracy, so many analysts remind us, is in crisis, but we do not know if this is due to an excess or a defect of the people, to an excess or a defect of knowledge expert, to too much globalism or, on the contrary, to too much localism.

After decades of unchallenged, we realize that democracy is at risk. But perhaps a little history is in order here. Democracy has not always enjoyed the prestige it has enjoyed in recent decades. On the contrary, ever since some Greek authors described it as the corrupt version of the government of the people, of all the people, the name of democracy was systematically vilified by the great political theorists. It was only after the French Revolution and well into the 19th century that the first claims of democracy appeared, having become the inescapable horizon of modern times, and married, in a settled marriage of convenience, to liberalism.

Our democratic systems thus have, from their inception, several paradoxes that place them under internal tension: on the one hand, they seek to make individual rights compatible with the government of the people. On the other hand, they have to manage the tension between the autonomy of the political subjects, which allows the government of the people, with the union that allows to face the great problems of the modern world. This leads, moreover, to the need to perfect the representative mechanisms that make it possible to maintain democratic government in States whose size makes direct governance difficult.

If there is something typical of our democratic systems, it is precisely this tension: tension between efficiency and legitimacy, between the people and the elite, between the center and the periphery, between representation and participation. In this sense, democracy has always been in crisis, it has always contained all these tensions. Many of them are due precisely to the configuration of democracy, which is based on opposing visions of the world and of what it should be. For this reason, the survival of democracy also depends on them. Institutions must continue to be effective in dealing with the various problems of our world, but this effectiveness is impossible if the democratic legitimacy of our systems is not safeguarded at the same time. That is to say, if we do not ensure that citizens can both set the objectives of the institutions, those on which they should focus, and express their own visions of the world.

Liberal democracy may not be the best political system imaginable. We may no longer be able to imagine such a system, but if our democracies have any capacity at all, it is precisely that of never taking people's voices for granted, of always being attentive to the citizenry. That is why we should not belittle the claims and demands of others, nor should we take for granted the existence or the end of our democracies. Democracy, mortal, can die. But like all mortals, it requires our care.