In her book On Revolution, Hannah Arendt offers an unconventional and illuminating comparison between the American and French Revolutions. While most historians view both as landmark events in the march toward modern democracy, Arendt saw them as fundamentally different — not just in outcome, but in essence.
The American Revolution, she argued, succeeded in creating a durable political space for freedom, while the French Revolution, despite its ideals, collapsed into violence and terror. Why? Because the Americans, in her reading, focused on foundation, while the French were consumed by the social question — the demand to alleviate poverty and inequality.
The French Revolution tried to eliminate suffering, but in doing so, it sacrificed the space of political action. Compassion turned into coercion. The revolutionary tribunal replaced deliberation with execution. The people became an abstraction, and dissent was silenced in the name of justice.
These councils, to Arendt, were democratic in the deepest sense: they allowed citizens to participate directly in governing, not just to vote every few years. They embodied a form of freedom that was active, shared, and rooted in a love for the world. Yet each time, they were destroyed — by elites, parties, or ideologies that saw them as chaotic or threatening.
This is not a romantic vision. Arendt was acutely aware of failure, betrayal, and the pull of violence. But she believed that even in collapse, the revolutionary impulse to found — to act together, to begin anew — remained a precious political resource.
In an era of mass protest and democratic erosion, her insight is stark: if we forget the art of founding, we will remain trapped in cycles of revolt without renewal.
