Once upon a time, democracy was understood as a liberal means, not an end unto itself.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, "the masses" were far more liberal (in the libertarian sense of the word) than they became in the last century. They understood that the ruling class pursued a command economy in their own interest and to the detriment of working-class consumers. British "Radicals" such as James Mill put universal suffrage ahead of laissez faire as a political priority, not because they thought democracy was more important than economic freedom, but precisely because they believed democracy would inevitably lead to economic freedom. They failed to support the Anti–Corn Law movement because they saw it as too middle class and as a distraction from the more immediate issue (for them) of mass majoritarianism. Ironically, the masses they idolized did support the Anti–Corn Law movement. As Rothbard writes, "by rejecting this middle-class movement, [Mill, et al.] rebuffed a successful one, and this refusal to support the Anti–Corn Law League in the 1840s helped eliminate Radicalism as a powerful force in British politics" ("Concepts of the Role of Intellectuals in Social Change Toward Laissez Faire," available in PDF).

Modern libertarians, with our very different take on mass democracy ranging from ambivalence to antipathy, might have a hard time seeing how the process of electoral or legislative rules could ever be more important than freedom or peace, but classical liberals seem to have been as mixed up on this point as are our illiberal contemporaries.

Barbara Tuchman offers another example of this value reversal of means and ends, although, as she makes clear, she agrees with the fetishists:

Thomas Brackett Reed (1839–1902)

I knew I had what I wanted for the American chapter in The Proud Tower, a book about the forces at work in society in the last years before 1914. …

Reed was an ideal focus, not least because, as an anti-Imperialist, he represented the losers of that era in our history. Usually it is the winners who capture the history books. … but it is astonishing how much more dramatic an issue becomes if the opponents' — in this case the anti-Imperialists' — views are given equal play and the contest is told as if the outcome were still in the balance.

Though the events of the chapter are confined to less than a decade, I learned more about the ideas that formed our country than I had in all my years since first grade. … All America's traditions were reflected there. Our development up to that time, and indeed since, was caught in the prism of the struggle over expansion.

… Reed was an excellent choice for many reasons: … his quotable wit, his imposing character, his moral passion, and the tragic irony linking the two great contests of his life — one over the Silent Quorum and the other over the treaty assuming sovereignty over the Philippines. …

The Silent Quorum was a custom by which minority members of the House could defeat any legislation they did not like by refusing to answer "present" when called to establish a quorum for the vote. As Republican Speaker of the House, Reed had made up his mind to end once and for all the device that made a mockery of the congressional process. …

… Reed triumphed and succeeded in imposing a new set of voting rules that ensured that the will of the majority would thereafter govern. It was a long stride, as he said, in the direction of responsible government. Five years later, when it came to a vote on the annexation of Hawaii, and subsequently, on the treaty taking over the Philippines (which Reed as an anti-Imperialist bitterly opposed), the purpose of the Quorum battle came to a test with inescapable moral fate, against himself. Still Speaker, he might — by summoning all his authority and manipulating every parliamentary wile of which he was the master — have stifled the vote, but if he did he would nullify the reform he had earlier won. He had to choose between his hatred of foreign conquest and his own rules. Knowing too well the value of what he had accomplished, he could make only one choice. His victory over the Silent Quorum gave the victory to the expansionist sentiment he despised.

Barbara Tuchman,
"Biography as a Prism of History,"
Practicing History
p. 83–95

There you have it. Knowing too well the value of democratic decision making, Speaker Reed could make only one choice:

… 4,324 American soldiers died, 1,000–1,500 of which were from actual combat; the remainder died of disease. 2,818 were wounded. There were also 2,000 casualties that the Philippine Constabulary suffered during the war, over one thousand of which were fatalities. Philippine military deaths are estimated at 20,000 with 16,000 actually counted, while civilian deaths numbered between 250,000 and 1,000,000 Filipinos.

Wikipedia