The phenomenal fantasy series officially comes to a close this weekend with the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2. It’s like my childhood is dying all over again. I picked up Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone at age 11 and read the final installment in one caffeine-crazed sitting just after my high school graduation — I literally grew up with Harry Potter.

As a teen, my view of Harry Potter was pretty simple: Dumbledore equals good. Voldemort equals evil.  Snape equals awesome. And the Ministry? Well, they were obviously a bunch of bureaucratic buffoons, and the wizarding world would be much better off without them.

My opinions have stayed pretty static, but I can now explain why the Ministry is an incredibly massive bowl of fail pudding and argue a case for viewing the heroes of Harry Potter as shining symbols of libertarianism.

Let’s start with the dubious persons and practices of the Ministry of Magic.

We first learn of the Ministry of Magic in the Sorcerer’s Stone when we meet the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge. The lime green bowler hat-wearing Fudge is horribly paranoid, power hungry, and, at best, indecisive (remember how his first years as Minister were spent perpetually writing to Dumbledore for advice?). All of these are, I’m sure, truly great qualities for a leader to possess. Fudge is a perfect example of the politicians we all know and despise: incompetent and desperate to keep whatever bit of illegitimate authority they’ve managed to acquire.

In 1993, Fudge had Rubeus Hagrid placed in the wizarding prison Azkaban (think Alcatraz meets an 18th century hospital for the insane, but with Dementors — creatures that literally suck all of the happiness out of your soul) after a series of attacks on Muggle-borns. Hagrid was given no trial and was never charged. The only previous count against him was that he had been wrongfully blamed for opening the Chamber of Secrets as a Hogwarts student. Fudge simply imprisoned him as a “precaution,” all the while assuring him that he would be released immediately if someone else where to be found guilty.

During her stints as professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts and then as headmistress of Hogwarts (her original post being Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic), Dolores Umbridge proves herself to be the epitome of big brother bureaucracy gone… well, that’s bad enough in itself. Umbridge physically tortures her students, monitors their activities (as much as magically possible), and forcibly administers the potent truth potion Veritaserum (and this is only a sampling of her transgressions against the students’ rights). The entire time, she manages perfect politeness with a pink smile plastered across her face — a look that we know all too well from our own deranged public officials.

As headmistress, Umbridge manufactures a ludicrous number of rules and regulations to govern the lives of Hogwarts students. Suddenly, the once-cheerful school is filled with terrified and soul-crushed pupils.

Umbridge’s worst offense is that she essentially refuses to teach the students any magic. Defense Against the Dark Arts is an incredibly important class; it arms the students with the knowledge and skills necessary to fight off the intense evil that can (and, obviously, does) brew in a magically charged environment. In Umbridge’s classroom, students are allowed to learn a bit of theory, but that’s it. They “don’t need to know” how to actually perform the magic! The Ministry seems to desire a brainwashed generation that will pose no real threat to their grip on the wizarding world.

Another unfortunate exercise of statist power over students is the “trace,” which is placed on underage witches and wizards so that they cannot use magic outside of school. If they do, the Ministry will instantly know what they have done and where they have done it. The young witch or wizard may subsequently have all legal ability to use their own magical abilities revoked. As such, they will be also be made into second-class citizens in their world, yet remain outsiders in the Muggle world. Talk about a major violation of private property and natural rights.

Just before Harry’s fifth year, one of those nasty Dementors turns up in a Muggle neighborhood and tries to suck out his soul (yeah, they can do that too, it’s called the “Dementor’s Kiss”). Unlike most young wizards, Harry is particularly skilled at casting a Patronus charm which wards off Dementors. (He had to learn this skill in his third year, when the Ministry decided that Hogwarts needed have Dementors as guards to protect it from Sirius Black. Because Harry had experienced so much pain as a young child, the Dementors had a particularly nasty effect on him, causing him to relieve his parents’ murder every time one came near.) Harry does the sensible thing and casts a Patronus. The Ministry really wants Harry to stop talking about how Voldemort is on the rise again, so can you guess why Dementors turned up Little Whinging? Umbridge ordered them, of course! Harry uses the only form of self-defense available to him, and is consequently threatened with expulsion from Hogwarts and the revocation of his use of magic. It isn’t exactly what the Ministry, particularly Umbridge, had wanted, but it seemed that it would do. Luckily, Dumbledore comes to his aid and prevents the expulsion.

The Ministry “heavily influences” (*ahem*downrightcensors) The Daily Prophet. When Voldemort returns, the Ministry not only turns a blind eye but goes so far as to use their media control to try and discredit the claims made by Dumbledore and Harry by using the press to imply that they are not sane. Dear old Fudge’s primary motive for this ostrich move is, of course, concern for his job (in the same manner that most political actions in the real world seem to be geared toward reelection hopes). He simply thinks Dumbledore is trying to take the job of Minister of Magic (regarded as the most powerful wizard alive, Dumbledore had been offered the position numerous times and had declined, having an obvious disdain for the Ministry).

Once Voldemort and his Death Eaters are fully back in action, the Ministry’s concentrated power easily succumbs. Isn’t it funny how the very entity designed to “protect” the population is the one that cannot withstand true danger?

And then we have the “good” guys of the Harry Potter series. Dumbledore is constantly undermining the Ministry’s authority (e.g., helping the trio figure out a way to allow Buckbeak and Sirius Black to escape execution). The Order of the Phoenix is essentially a private army. Dumbledore’s Army is a group of slightly subversive students who are hell-bent on actually learning something about defending themselves against evil and tyranny while under Umbridge’s atrocious tutelage.

The most interesting libertarian bent to note is, I believe, the overarching theme that the initiation of force is never permissible. Our wizard and witch heroes do not harm unless it is in self-defense; it seems that the non-aggression principle is prevalent in the wizarding world and the only ones who regularly break it are criminals and the state.

Dumbledore, of course, was not always so libertarian in his actions. In Deathly Hallows, we learn that Dumbledore was once best friends with Gellert Grindelwald, the predecessor to Voldemort, and was quite entranced with his ideas about wizards, especially the educated and talented ones, having the right to makes others subservient. The seventeen year old Dumbledore says in a letter to Grindelwald, “Your point about Wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLES’ OWN GOOD — this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and yes, that power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counter-arguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this it follows that where we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more.”

In his last meeting with Harry, Dumbledore talks to Harry about his younger years: “Oh, I had a few scruples. I assuaged my conscience with empty words. It would all be for the greater good, and any harm done would be repaid a hundredfold in benefits for wizards.”

How often do we hear this sentiment expressed in our world? “It’s okay if we violate the rights of the few if it benefits the many.”

No, I don’t think J.K. Rowling is a libertarian, and I’m not sure how conscious these threads of libertarian and anti-state sentiment were for her as she wrote the Potter books. But I do believe that even this unconscious expression of libertarian sentiment is a powerful thing. Millions of children have read and loved these books, and they do not question the (appropriately) negative descriptions of government and bureaucracy, and cheer wildly as the heroes of the wizarding world fight back against this oppression. Can this be classified as anything other than a victory for libertarianism? If this is the message portrayed by the most popular literature of the rising generation, we may just be able to find room for hope. And isn’t that what Harry Potter is all about?

Source: Politicus Rex