Democracy, for Derrida, is always a democracy to-come. No actual existing democracy is adequate to the pressure that is put on it by what is calling upon us, by what is recalled, and by what is being called for in and under the spooky, spectral, inspiring name of democracy. Democracy is never here, even in the existing democracies. Democracy is always coming, like a Messiah who never shows up but who keeps on disturbing us in the middle of the night with the promise/threat of his coming. Democracy is a memory and a promise, something we are dreaming of, something we are haunted by, something we desire with a desire beyond desire, hoping against hope. Might we even say something we are praying for?