The subject I am trying to interpret is neither the revival of memories of a past “golden age” nor the imagining of a new future “utopia.” I do not find it meaningful to display the power of projection in relation to either subject.

Even though social mentalities are laden with concentrations of this kind, they do not possess the value of explanations and narratives that contribute much to the reality of moral and political society that I am principally trying to interpret. Although we do not deny their contributions altogether, it is necessary to dwell on them and make them the subject of certain narratives, knowing that they also give rise to dangers.

From these perspectives, the concept of democratic modernity is neither an attempt to bring news of a “golden age” nor a “paradise utopia” concerning the future. Nor does it refer to the historical ages and forms of society so often treated by positivist science. Whether addressed through metaphysical or positivist methods, I do not adopt such narratives of history and society as a method; and, at least from my perspective, I must also state that they produce similar results and that their interpretations of reality and truth are not as coherent as they claim. I find the experiences contained in historical material absolutely necessary for thought. I find not only historical material but also the material and experiences of nature necessary. In this matter, I do not take the approach of a typical empiricist. Nor, conversely, do I adopt the idealist approach—absolute idealism—which claims that thought can be produced independently of natural and historical material and experience. I know that enormous bodies of literature have been created with these methods throughout the history of civilization. Although I believe it necessary to be familiar with them, I am also convinced that they are not indispensable for interpreting truth. I wish to state that it is possible to interpret truth without them. I find the positivist school of researchers, buried in the abundance of historical material, especially wretched and pitiable. Likewise, I do not think that the pronouncements from the unseen by sheikhs who are excessively devoid of material and claim their own miraculous authority have much connection with truth. They, too, live in a pitiable and miserable condition.

It is insufficient merely to criticize empirical and idealist approaches. It is also important to approach critically the universalist, linear-progressivist, and relativist methods, which are different forms of these two methods. In general, truth can neither be constructed nor discovered by linear-progressivist or relativist methods. Undoubtedly, the flexible and highly intelligent level of social nature offers a broad option of freedom in constructing social reality. But this does not mean, as the relativist method claims, that “Everyone can construct their own truth however they wish.” Nor do the same realities mean, as idealists suppose, that “They will occur when their time comes, just as they are written on the Preserved Tablet.” The path of mentality that constructs social realities—social natures from clan to nation, class, state, and so forth—as new realities through new ideas, using the social material within the given conditions of time and place, appears to be the most realistic method, or may be accepted as such.

Even at the cost of repetition, what I am trying to explain is that the method must necessarily rest upon social nature, especially upon moral and political society, which I believe and am certain is its fundamental state of existence. I am trying to indicate that all schools of thought and all works of science, philosophy, and art that are not connected to moral and political society are born malformed and will sooner or later lead to dangers. I establish as the first condition that all questions of method to which we must remain committed, and all products of knowledge, ethics, and aesthetics, must necessarily take moral and political society as their basis. I want to draw attention to the fact that every method, body of knowledge, ethics, and aesthetics formed outside this first condition will be unreliable, malformed, burdened with errors, and filled with ugliness and evil. I insistently explain that these matters are not merely my personal opinions and thoughts but possess the value of fundamental norms on the path of truth.

Having once again stated the method of my approach to democratic modernity, it will be understood that through the analyses thus far I have tried to develop a twofold approach. The first point the analyses insistently seek to identify concerns how the system of civilization developed by continually eroding and exploiting society of a moral and political character—the given state of social nature—and by building monopolies of exploitation and power upon it. This point is very important and absolutely requires that it be understood and that the necessary analyses be offered. I tried to do so. Because of the conditions in which I find myself, I used the available material, though limited; but I principally tried to analyze the system of civilization by interpreting life—my own life, the indispensable path of truth—in interaction with this material. In my view, an excessive presentation of material was not very necessary. There was a danger of drowning in detail. Yet with the data presented, I tried to demonstrate clearly that one cannot be entirely without material either.

The conclusion was this: Against whom, by the requirements of dialectics, had the vast ages of civilization been developed? With whom, where, and how had they configured their relations and contradictions? Even with minimal material and interpretive power, I did not hesitate to combine and present the familiar terms “demos” for the totality of their relations and oppositions, and “kratia” in the sense of self-government, because they are widely used and commonly known in the intellectual world. Undoubtedly, Demoskratia does not encompass all units of moral and political society. Perhaps it corresponds exactly to the “Confederation of Tribes” as experienced at one time in Ionia. It may therefore fail to encompass lower, higher, and other different moral and political units. More than merely perhaps, it does not encompass them. Nevertheless, because I hold that the word is for now the most suitable among those available, I did not hesitate to use it. If more suitable terminology is developed in the future, I will undoubtedly have no hesitation about the need to use it. What matters is the content it contains—what we mean by that content.

The second word, “modernity,” hardly requires explanation. As is widely accepted, it describes lived periods, ages, and spans of time with certain norms. Thus, however many ages of civilization there are, there are as many Demoskratias and democratic modernities—indeed, many times more. For there are many units of moral and political society that I can interpret as democratic modernities which systems of civilization have not fully reached and have not been able to bring under monopolies of exploitation and power. History offers abundant material on this matter. I, too, have tried to touch on only a very few by way of example.

The second important point concerning democratic modernity was that its units have not organized themselves, or have not been able to do so, to the same extent as systems of civilization or in terms of material culture. Because civilizations must operate their daily apparatuses of monopolistic exploitation and power, they must be both extremely well equipped and organized ideologically and act in unity in their material structures. Historical material is exceedingly abundant on this subject; anyone who wishes can find as much as they want. The units of democratic modernity, however, are not in the same position. More precisely, because they continually move between a position of resistance and one of colonization, and because the independent units left in remote corners, on mountain peaks, and in the midst of deserts have not developed much, they cannot possess the same systematic ideological and material structure. I do not mean that they can develop no system, ideology, or structure whatsoever. Undoubtedly, history is full of the much richer cultures of ideological and material structuring that they, too, have produced. Although these are not much revealed because of civilization’s ideological hegemony, one must never doubt that history offers very rich data in this direction.

I have tried to trace both poles of civilization in their main outlines up to the present. Despite all the roughness of my arrangement, I believe that, though inadequately, I have reflected the main tendencies. It will be noticed that I have tried in particular to analyze comprehensively the modernity called capitalist. In contrast, it can also be clearly followed that I have presented the opponents of the same period of modernity more comprehensively and together with certain criticisms. The conclusion to be drawn from these criticisms clearly concerns the task that democratic modernity faces of rebuilding itself. We know that the official forces of capitalist modernity, under the leadership of liberalism and with all their power and means, are highly skillful and experienced at presenting themselves in every guise, whether or not they renew themselves. We cannot state the same for the forces of democratic modernity. In both history and the experiences of the recent past, it is possible to see clearly in their stance toward liberalism how they were ideologically dissolved and lost their clarity. In order to avoid falling into such situations as far as possible, and at least not to allow another opportunity for the tragic, pain-filled positions of the recent past, clarifying the tasks of rebuilding the units of democratic modernity is of great importance.

By “unit,” I mean all communities, individuals, and movements that know and live, to a greater or lesser extent, their anti-systemic condition. These forms of existence, which constitute the overwhelming majority of social nature, unfortunately exist as a qualitative force far below what their numbers would warrant. Rebuilding must aim above all to endow their quantitative plurality with qualitative power. If we do not forget for a moment how comprehensive and interwoven the global networks of commercial, industrial, financial, ideological, power, and nation-state monopolies are, and how surprisingly and destructively they act against their targets, it is a very clear and unpostponable task that the units of democratic modernity be rebuilt and attain power proportional to their plurality, at least to overcome the enormous imbalance between them. These tasks can be stated under three main headings. All three, tightly connected to one another, have intellectual, moral, and political dimensions. Yet the close and reciprocal connection among them does not eliminate the requirement that they be institutionally and strictly independent. On the contrary, each field must preserve its independence as an institution in history, in the present, and in the future. Otherwise, they cannot properly fulfill their functions. Clarifying the institutionalization and duties related to these fields of activity, which have lived greatly intertwined throughout history, and arranging how they can cooperate are matters that must be resolved.