9 Presidents Who Screwed Up America

9 Presidents Who Screwed Up America and 4 Who Tried to Save Her
©  2016 Brion McClanahan
354 pages

It is my dearest hope that by the time Donald Trump leaves the West Wing, the office of the presidency will have been so discredited that no one will take it seriously anymore.   Congress will take serious measures to counter executive overreach, and the American people will somberly reflect that it was a bad idea to allow so much responsibility, expectation, and power to rest on the shoulders of one man. My second dearest hope is that pigs will fly.   Brion McClanahan does what he can to take the American monarchy down a few pegs, though, by devoting half his book to exposing the greatness of a few titans as irresponsible hubris, and hailing a few forgotten men for their diligent work thwarting or ameliorating  the excesses of others.

McClanahan scrutinizes each president based on how effectively they fulfilled their  oath to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.   Because Article II of the Constitution, which creates the office of President, does not include a full job description,  McClanahan relies on debates from the Constitutional convention and the States’ ratification proceedings to determine what was expected of the president.  This figure was not to be a king in democratic clothing, but a guardian of the rule of law: his primary job was to keep  Congress, the only legislative body,  in check – the job that George III failed to do when he allowed Parliament to tyrannize the colonies.   Those who maintain a zealous watch are praised here; the rest, like those who invent new powers for themselves, or accept new powers from Congress through legislative fiat instead of constitutional amendment, or presume on the states or other branches' prerogatives, or allow the other branches to presume on the same, are condemned.    In general: 19th century presidents were largely faithful to the job, and 20th/21st century presidents sought to re-invent and magnify the office, and did so to the point that the old republic is now ruled by Jabba the State. (I borrow that, with gratitude and a bellylaugh, from Anthony Esolen.)

McClanahan’s critique is thus very strict, and he does not pardon men for doing pursuing good ends through improper means: that is not how the rule of law works. The Constitution is not a dead decree, a sacred writ that forces us to live in perpetuity by an 18th century society’s rules, but neither is it a piece of clay to be molded in any way. Those who wish to change the structure of US Government must do so through amendment, or  – as the North threatened to do, as the South attempted to do – remove themselves and try again.   McClanahan’s strict adherence to the original intent of the Constitution, and the observance of the rule of law, will no doubt earn the most criticism from those who read this, who believe that the government should periodically assume new powers as it “needs” them, without respecting the appropriate procedures.  But those procedures, the rule of law, protect us from merely being controlled by the whims of men.

So, who are the nine?

• Andrew Jackson, who terminated the Second Bank of the United States through extralegal means, promoted a dubious tariff that picked sectional favorites, and threatened to order the militia into South Carolina to prevent it from seceding in response to said tariffs;
• Abraham Lincoln, who failed to recognize the legal separation of the southern States from the Union, illegally made use of State militias to invade a foreign power,   presumptuously revoked habeus corpus, instituted a draft, instituted the income tax,  and helped devalue the currency for starters;
• Theodore Roosevelt, who made the president a celebrity and  inserted himself into the legislative process, assuming powers not granted to him by the Constitution, including to make presidential proclamations.
• Woodrow Wilson,  who drove legislation, attempted to institute tariffs that picked sectional favorites,  persecuted and jailed Americans for exercising the first amendment, instituted the Federal Reserve, and created powerfully intrusive regulatory bodies with no constitutional sanction;
• Franklin D. Roosevelt, who created the American conservative movement by violating so much precedent and expanding the power of his office so quickly that critics didn’t even know where to begin countering his illegal intrusions into lives of people and the economy;
• Harry S. Truman, who turned America into the guardian of the world and helped establish the military-industrial complex’s power over the American future;
• Lyndon B. Johnson , who continued overreach in both domestic and foreign policy; like FDR before him and Nixon after him, he created agencies that combined  legislative, judicial, and judicial functions, ignoring the wisdom of checks and balances; 
• Richard Nixon, who continued the same sorry trend  and pawed at the economy as well, and began the steady erosion of the dollar as a unit of real value; and
• Barack Obama, who greatly expanded Bush’s illegal wire-tapping, droning, and pushed through the Affordable Care Act, which made the sorry debacle of US healthcare even more onerous .

The two most controversial names on the list are Lincoln and Obama; Lincoln,  because most people will refuse to consider that the constitution of the United States – the little c –constitution – was much different in 1860 than in 2018,  that people did consider themselves members of the State of Maryland or the State of Vermont, and that the Union was a debatable issue;  and Obama,  because he was merely burning down a house that had already had its doors and windows pried off  and its interior walls  torn down  by previous presidents.  Oddly, even though McClanahan refers to Obama as the ‘worst’,   the chapter on said president is rather short. Frankly, I think ranking a then-sitting president was a mistake.

There are some general lessons to be learned. In the 20th century, the easiest way to gain enormous power was  through war -- either real war, or by couching social programs in the language of war.  Two, the most common violation is the president assuming responsibilities -- lawmaking and warmaking -- that are Congress's alone.  The president is not granted the authority to summon militias; only  Congress may do that, and they require a state governors' request. It doesn't matter if Congresses passes a law giving itself power to do this or that  --  that's not how the rule of law works. If they could empower themselves, they should just dispense with the formalities and issue straightforward dicta like honest oligarchs.

Following the rogues' gallery,  McClanahan then devotes the second half of his book to praising  Thomas Jefferson, John Tyler,  Grover Cleveland, and  Calvin Coolidge.  Jefferson is no surprise,  rejecting anything that smacked of monarchy in presidential treatment and , ending as he did the illegal Alien and Sedition acts.  Tyler will be unknown to most Americans; he was the first vice president to assume the office of president after Zachary Taylor died, and he spent most of his time in office vetoing Congressional actions that had no warrant in the Constitution. He was so consistent at it that both parties grew to hate him. Good on ya, Johnny!   Cleveland  was also solid on reining in Congress, and if nothing else he deserves a standing ovation for doing his best to prevent the United States from enveloping Hawaii. Coolidge, of course, has a deserved reputation for being a calm and steady hand on the rudder, intent on reversing growth as best he could within constitutional limits. The sad truth of political economy is that a bad president can increase his powers in violation of the law through his own will, while a good president's own scruples forbid him from violating the law to reverse course.

The book ends with a series of suggested amendments which would in theory curtail the power of el presidente, though given how much bureaucratic power is now vested in the sprawl of executive departments, said amendments only only be a start.  These amendments include limiting the president to one term and sharply enforcing Congress's sole responsibility as a warmaking body.

When I began reading this, I was a little worried about McClananhan's style, which -- when he is lecturing  -- can grow abrasive. It's not a style fit for communicating with people who disagree with you, and I'm happy to report that he largely reins himself in here, though his language grows a little less formal as he comes nearer to the 20th century.  I think he manages to be approachable to those who disagree with him, but very few people care more about rule of law than doing what they think should be done now, and to the devil with the consequences.  That, combined with the fact that human beings frequently revert to some tribal desire for a strong leader who can take charge and restore confidence in the future -- whether he's killing the old shaman for not pleasing the gods, or forcing everyone to buy health insurance to "fix" the cost of insurance -- makes me think all human political experiments beyond a certain scale are doomed to failure.

Happy president's day...

Related:
Recarving Rushmore, Ivan Eland. A very similar but more thorough review of each president based on their contribution to liberty, peace, and rule of law.
The Cult of the Presidency, Gene Healy.  The story of how quiet servants like Tyler and Cleveland were supplanted by celebrities with delusions of grandeur .
The Twilight of the Presidency, George Reedy. A masterful review of how the American monarch is hindered by the sheer expanse of his office

Forgotten Founder, Drunken Prophet

Forgotten Founder, Drunken Prophet: The Life of Luther Martin
© 2008 Bill Kauffman
227 pages

There isn't enough whitewash in the world to create a Luther Martin hagiography, Bill Kauffman admits, but in the spirit of lost causes he does his best. Billed as a biography, Drunken Prophet is truly more about Martin's role in the Constitutional debates, in which he warned the assembly that the Constitution they were debating would destroy the States altogether  Few realize today that the Constitution - -regarded as a guardian of our liberties, however much a token now -- was rightfully feared in its day as a tool of big-government enterprise.  In this biography of Martin, Bill Kauffman gives voice to one of the Constitution's chief opponents, a man who refused service in the government it created.

When the delegates invited to reform the Articles of Confederation chose instead to create an entirely new government, Luther Martin took a stand against it. He could do no other.  He wasn't alone in being suspicious of the Constitution; Patrick Henry wouldn't even attend the convention, claiming to smell a rat. The convention contained radicals who wanted to do away with the States themselves, men like Hamilton, and Martin was their steady opponent.  He promoted the New Jersey plan against the Virginia plan, arguing that Virginia's bicameral legislature was beyond the scope of what was necessary. A government that need so many checks and balances was oversized to begin with.

Following the conclusion of the convention,  Kauffman's usual energy and the book's point drift. Technically, this is a biography of Martin, but little of import happened in his life  beyond the convention, other than a couple of court cases. Oddly, the staunch anti-Federalist became a defender of Federalist politicians, defending Sam Chase in the first-ever Supreme Court impeachment, and later defending Aaron Burr. (Kauffman notes that Burr's only crime was invading the Southwest too early, and shooting Hamilton too late.)  Kauffman suspects that Martin's defense of Federalists owed principally to his hatred for Thomas Jefferson.  Another case Martin participated in was the famous McCullough v. Maryland, arguing against the expansion of Federal powers.   Martin was evidently regarded well-enough in Maryland that the state imposed a tax on all lawyers just to give the aging attorney fiscal support after stroke and alcohol forced him to retire.

Drunken Prophet is the first Bill Kauffman book I've read that didn't absolutely bowl me over, but those interested in the anti-federalist or republican case against the Constitution will definitely find it of interest.

The Anti-Federalists stood for decentralism, local democracy, antimilitarism, and a deep suspicion of central governments.  And they stood on what they stood for. Local attachments. Local knowledge. While the Pennsylvania Federalist Gouverneur Morris 'flattered himself he came here in some degree as a Representative of the whole human race', Anti-Federalists understood that one cannot love an abstraction such as'the whole human race'. One loves particular flesh-and-blood members of that race. 'My love must be discriminate / or fail to bear its weight,' in the words of a modern anti-Federalist, the Kentucky poet-farmer Wendell Berry. He who loves the whole human race seldom has much time for individual members thereof.

From the introduction, "The People Who Lost".


Previous books in the Forgotten Founders series:
American Cicero: Charles Carroll (Brad Birzer)
The Cost of Liberty: John Dickinson (William Murchinson)

The First Congress

The First Congress: How James Madison, George Washington, and a Group of Extraordinary Men Invented the Government
© 2016 Fergus Bordewich
416 pages

The first attempt at creating an American confederation resulted in a chronically bankrupt and impotent organization which no one took seriously. So mightily did it flounder that a convention was called to address its structural problems, and by way of solution they created the Constitution. Thus did the American experiment begin anew,  but a superior legal start didn't guarantee steady success. Ultimately its success would depend on the men responsible for turning ink on paper into a functional government, principally the men of the first congress who had a world of policy to establish and precedents to set.   Drawing on journals and official records, Mr. Bordewich has produced here a month-by-month chronicle of the first congress’s work in and out of session, as sectional rivalries and opposing philosophies of government went head to head for dominance. Ultimately progress came through  deal-making, and some vital decisions were made not on the floor of Federal Hall, but in the dining rooms of the influential.  Bordewich succeeds in turning months of argument amid miserable weather into a fascinating narrative.

The challenges facing the first government of the United States were outstanding: the union consisted of eleven states, many with hazy western borders. Along those borders were encamped restive Indian nations, notably the Creek, and the armed forces of Britain. The states bickered with one another over water resources and were themselves awash in debt,   North Carolina and Rhode Island had yet to agree to adopt the Constitution, and the presumably-elected president George Washington was confined to bed.    Major political issues faced the nation: what to do with the debt, for instance, how to strike in practice the balance of power between the Legislature and the executive, where to established the federal capital, and what do to with the Indians. To make matters worse, the Quakers insisted on sending petitions to Congress to address slavery, even though the Constitution forbad federal action on it for twenty years after its adoption.   Each of these issues had powerful personalities eager to fight with one another.  The siting of a national capital, for instance, wasn’t merely a division between north and South.   New York and Pennsylvania were as jealous of one another as they were of the South; even John Adams loathed the thought of gracing Philadelphia or its environs with the capital.   Issues like the debt were not simply about money:  the question of whether the Federal government should take responsibility for the individual war debts of the states turned Madison from a Federalist into a Republican: he knew if the federal government took responsibility for that debt,  it would assume greater authority over the states themselves.   Slavery’s volatility needs no introduction, driving the union as it did to war.

Arguing these issues are a score of personalities, some famous but others generally overlooked. Madison is central, of course, as one of the Constitution’s key contributors and the man later tasked with presenting amendments proposed by the States to Congress. He dominates early, functioning as Washington’s prime minister in the House,  though later loses ground to Hamilton as financial matters rear their head first in the matter of the assumption of state debt, and later in the establishment of a national bank.  Other notable characters are Oliver Ellsworth, who helped establish the structure of the federal and Supreme Courts, and an antifederalist William. Maclay whose diary is a major source.   Washington and John Adams, though not congressmen,  also feature.

Bordewich's favor is with the victors,  seeing the triumph of a strong executive and Hamilton’s financial schemes over agrarian skepticism as a step forward for the United States in moving toward enlightened, modern capitalism.   His bias is not overt, though one might make a drinking game out of his referring to the Hemingses as enslaved.  In addition to the thoughtful history that makes it clear how fundamental some of the Congress’ decisions were,  Bordewich’s history also shares quite a few fascinating little tidbits. Poor Rhode Island, for instance, was bullied into joining the Union:  late into the first Congress’ term, the Rhode Island legislature failed to ratify the Constitution. Not only did Washington snub them during his tour, but the surrounding states ceased communication and transportation into the little state.   Also of interest: Thomas Jefferson learned of his appointment as Secretary of State only by reading the papers when he arrived at home!  

Bordewich’s history isn’t quite as lively as Joseph Ellis, but it is very close, a significant feat  given its greater ambition.  It makes the first Congress’ accomplishments clear, not only in establishing a new national government from the ground up –  figuring out what was needed, and how to fit it within the limits of the Constitution – but in creating union  through compromise, the most famous example  being a southern site for the capital in exchange for the wealthy cotton states agreeing to let the federal government assume the collective debt of the states.   The First Congress is superior popular history, serious, but personable still.

Related:

• Founding Brothers; The Quartet, Joseph Ellis
• James Madison and the Making of America, Kevin Gutzman
• Alexander Hamilton, Rob Chernow

The Cult of the Presidency

The Cult of the Presidency: America's Dangerous Devotion to Executive Power
© 2008 Gene Healy
264 pages

 Every four years, men and women with permanently-fixed smiles assure us that they will end corruption in D.C, get the economy moving, and end our trouble overseas, if only we will elect them President.  The claims are bold – who could budge the vast federal bureaucracy or find a solution to the hornet’s nest that is the middle east? Yet a third of the American public seems willing to believe these and greater claims, from across the political spectrum. Throughout the 20th century, the  presidency has taken on great challenges, willfully or at the urging of the public, and gathered around itself the power to take on those challenges -- or try to.   In The Cult of the Presidency, David Healy argues that not only this is a significant departure from the Constitutionally-sanctioned purpose of the president, but such centralization constitutes a malignant force.  Not only is investing such power and hope in one man dangerous, but the breadth of ambitious and responsibilities we heap upon the president's shoulders is self-defeating.

Healy begins with the Constitution and revisits the intentions of the Founders through the Federalist papers. The republic existed in its Congress, which was granted the bulk of powers, including levying taxes and declaring war. What no one wanted was an elected king, even if Alexander Hamilton did bat around the idea that the president might serve for life.  There were fears, however, that Congress might amass too much power, and thus the executive's responsibility would be to not just carry out Congress' will, but refuse to do so if said will violated the Constitution.  The presidential oath is made not to care for and advance the needs of The People, but to protect the Constitution. For most of the 19th century,  executives held to their constitutional limits; Abraham Lincoln was an obvious exception, serving as he did in extraordinary circumstances. But most of the 19th century executives were forgettable men; how many Americans could even identify men like Franklin, Garfield, and Hayes as presidents?  The opening of the 20^th century, however,  revealed a very different presidency. Wealth and power were increasing, and as money and science transformed the nation, they created a distinctly modern mindset. It declared that the power to create the future was in its hands; no institution was spared from novel attempts at completely restructuring them, sometimes in response to the new dangers of the modern era. The presidency, too, empowered not just by wealth but by the ideology of progress, escaped its constitutional bounds to become new creature.   Although lapses in presidential restraint had already happened during the administrations of McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt,  Wilson was the architect of a new order.  An academic who believed the Constitution  had outlived its effective use, saw it as the president’s duty to conduct the Will of the People into action.  The president alone was voted in by the whole of the people; his was the voice that should guide the nation into the future, and the technology of the day allowed he and his successors to project their voice and exercise their will more ably, constitutional limits be damned. (And to the prisons with dissent!)

The world wars did great damage to the American political constitution, in focusing the public's attention through the radio onto the leader -- the leader, who  towered in imaginations, who could view the global conflict and distill all the information, creating a  battle plan.  As the twentieth century progressed, the ambitions of the presidency became ever more ambitious. The president was not merely spearheading a war against a particular foreign power; he was the Leader of the Free World,  casting a watchful eye over the entire globe to save it from the spectre of communism. At home, ambitions were no less awe-inspiring,  as Nixon, Johnson, Reagan and others sought to rid American society of substance abuse and poverty,  companions of the human race from the word go.  Now, when a shooting erupts, or a hurricane  washes over a city, the president is expected to arrive and say soothing things, like daddy reassuring frightened children.  Because one of the few active roles allotted to him by the Constitution is that of Commander-in-Chief,  presidential ambition has been matched by growing and inappropriate use of the military, both abroad and at home.  Although the Vietnam war and Nixon's resignation did tremendous damage to the esteem of the presidency, "Superman Returned" after 9/11, when George W. Bush became the defiant face of the nation toward terrorism.  Whatever he did, he was doing it to Make America Safe, and he didn't need a permission slip to do it -- L'état est George.   

The problem with all this power accruing to the presidency isn't just that it is merely unconstitutional, or manifestly dangerous in the abuses that have already occurred and continue to occur. (There's no shortage: the freewheeling ability to call anyone a terrorist and make them disappear, tried only in secret by the military;  drone assassinations without explicit congressional sanction, even of American citizens;  widespread data collection, and it goes on and on.)   There are limits in nature itself that ensure that the presidency is never as effective as it desires.  American foreign policy in the middle east, for instance, seems to be nothing more than a self-perpetuating stream of debacles. We meddle in Iran, and made an enemy; we used Iraq to attack them, and armed a madman; we attacked the madman, and created ISIS.  Nearer to home, the president may be the object of all our hopes and fears, but he can't stop hurricanes and the economy is not a machine to be manipulated. Like nature, it fights back.   Even when things seem to be going merrily, it's of little avail: the public only cares what fresh triumphs Caesar has wrought. If the economy tanks right before an election, woe to the incumbent party.  All this assumes the president is making competent decisions to begin with, when throughout the 20th century the office-holder has become increasingly isolated from reality -- surrounded by the party faithful and underlings who are awed by the office or have no incentive to tell him he's erring. So much power and adulation is not only dangerous to governance, but to the mental health of the occupant,  held in godlike awe and expectation to fix all the problems, and offer or at least project strength and comfort when a crisis erupts.   

What's the solution? Well, there isn't one, really. Congress can impose limits on the president, as it did with the War Powers act, but it has to be willing to hold him accountable. These days, Congress' chief function seems to be to pay lobbyists and run for office.  Ultimately, reigning in the cult may lie in waking up the cultists, the American people, who instead of being Egyptians genuflecting before Pharoah,  should return to their 18th century roots of viewing with deep suspicion any man presuming to order their lives about.  The current slate of men and women offers little hope in that regard, however, as the adulating masses cheering on Trump and Sanders obviously believe that one man can overcome reality itself.  There may be hope, however, in the fact that two figures with no real affiliation or loyalty to their party have populist support; it is a signal that Americans are weary of business as usual and might respond to third-party approaches.

(Happy president's day.)

Related:Recarving Rushmore: Ranking the Presidents on Peace, Prosperity, and Liberty, Ivan Eland.
The Once and Future King: The Rise of Crown Government, F.H. Buckley. Argues that an over-responsible president or prime minister is a problem not only for the United States, but for the United Kingdom and Canada as well.  I read this last July and will read it again this year in hopes of giving it a proper review. Cult of the Presidency was read last January and again last July.

The Quartet

The Quartet: Orchestrating the Second American Revolution, 1783 - 1789

© 2015 Joseph Ellis

320 pages

How many men does it take to make a revolution? The American Revolution is usually taken to include the rising animus against the political authority of Great Britain,  a desire for independence, and the war against Britain itself. The revolution did not create an independent American nation, however; it created thirteen. United in common cause against the armies of Parliament, peacetime threatened to cause dissolution. The liabilities of the Articles of Confederation, and the threat of the American seaboard becoming some Italian-like quilt of squabbling chiefdoms,,   prompted some of the states’ leading lights to vie not only for stronger ties between  the states, but for the creation of a more cohesive nation.  In The Quartet,  veteran Revolution historian Joseph Ellis examines the role of four particular men in effecting a transformational shift in American politics, forging a new American nation out of thirteen. What they created was only the beginning of that union, but it was enough. Here delivered is a history of the Constitutional convention, told through the men who made it so.

Argue as we may over the question of where sovereignty ultimately lies – with the States, or with the national government --   prior to the Constitution no one doubted that the states were sovereign. The Articles of Confederation, written to facilitate the war effort between the colonies-turned-states, gave the central authority virtually no muscle.  Genuine authority lay in the States and their respective armies, which frustrated to no end those tasked with the confederation’s  responsibilities.  Roger Morrison, for instance, initially tasked with getting the fledgling republic’s financial house in order, found virtually no support. The States balked at the smallest contributions, either from short-sighted shrewdness or long-term paranoia.   The states’ refusal to help with national provisions,  even to pay the soldiers who carried the hope of the rebellion on their shoulders,  nearly lead to a militia coup. Only the charisma of George Washington prevented matters from taking a tragic turn;  it would not be the last time his shoulders bore the weight of the American enterprise. .John Jay was likewise frustrated trying to arrange treaties, as the States insisted on making their own. Europe gazed across the Atlantic and viewed the new project with derision,  almost taking bets on when the states would go their own way.

The Articles were failing to make the American project a go,  but this was an age of ambitious and remarkably intelligent men willingly to be bold with their and other people's fortunes. Having taken readers through the stresspoints of the Articles, Ellis shifts to the effort that Madison and Hamilton spearheaded to call a convention to amend the Articles, a convention that replace them altogether. This took some doing; many Americans were quite happy with an impotent central government. Virginians didn't want to be saddled with other states' debts, and Rhode Island didn't want New York and other large states pushing it around. Any effort to strengthen an outside authority -- a foreign power -- smacked of tyranny.  Hamilton, Jay, and company were looking ahead, however; they saw that the world's future lay in the  American frontier, and the states needed to work together if that was to be taken advantage of. At the first attempt in Annapolis to gather a convention, most of the states were no-shows.  But Washington himself supported the cause, and Madison came to the second convention prepared to argue the case for a Constitution. Washington was the trump card, the demigod who imbued the cause with moral authority; he even circulated the odd letter to lend active support. Madison stayed on the floor throughout the constitutional process, and afterwards he and Hamilton -- with a little help from John Jay -- took up the pen to argue for its ratification in New York. Washington remained vital to the constitutional cause even after it was written, signed, and ratified; if the nation's first president were anyone but -- if the electors faltered and put an anti-federalist anywhere near the executive seat -- all efforts might be forfeit.   Here Hamilton plays another part, influencing the election to ensure that John Adams didn't come close to threatening Washington's victory.  Eventually the Federalists would be routed in what Thomas Jefferson referred to as 'the second American revolution' -- his election -- by then the course of the nation was set. 

The Quartet is classic Ellis, seeing history as made by the actions of individual actors, not the inevitable outcome of enormous socio-economic reactions. Ellis' creates an intimate history, one ruled by personal relationships; one chapter called "The Courting" speaks of Washington's seduction and consummation by Jay and Madison into the nationalist cause.  While the four aren't as tightly-knitted together as the title suggests ("orchestrating" the revolution as if they were a conspiracy with an intricate plan),  their unity at an opportune moment caused a sea change in American political history.  Though favoring the Federalist cause, Ellis doesn't too much overplay his hand: he points out for instance that the Federalist Papers only have limited use, being the propaganda work of the nation's most avowed nationalists, and written for a particular New York audience.  His emphasis on relationships does prompt a misread of Madison's character:  while prior to the Revolution, Madison argued for the Federalists and a national union; afterwards he was the darling of the Democratic-Republican cause against Federalism. Ellis sees this as entirely the result of Jefferson returning to America and Madison abandoning his ideas to support his mentor, as if Madison wasn't capable of having nuanced political sensibilities that supported a golden mean between centralization and anarchy.  These are slight quibbles, however; Ellis has yet again produced an enthralling political drama, perfect for a quick dip into Revolutionary history. 

Related:
Madison and the Making of America, Kevin Gutzman, focusing entirely on this Constitutional Convention where Madison played center stage.
Founding Brothers,  Joseph Ellis.   Of all the Ellis I've read, this places the most emphasis on political relationships. 

Travelin' man

Hello again, dear readers! I've been on a mini-vacation this past weekend, staying with my sister's in-laws in Atlanta and watching the Atlanta Braves take on the Chicago Cubs.  The game itself was a sleepy affair, with little hitting and  only two accidental runs in the third and fourth innings.  It was a weekend of good company and zero responsibilities, however,  and not until the ride home did I retreat into reading.

 I knocked off Pandora's Lunchbox, a bit of food-journalism in the style of Fast Food Nation that documents how pervasively preservatives are used in our food, even food that seems pure and wholesome.  I may give it a more detailed review, but it's not on the level of Schlosser's aforementioned work or Salt, Sugar, Fat, a somewhat more recent work.  If you don't think much about food, it's certainly enough to make grocery aisles loom like a carnival of horrors.  Fans of Food Inc, Fast Food Nation, and related works will find the ground familiar.  Another book I finished before the mini-vacation was Kevin Gutzman's James Madison and the Making of America, a biography of Madison that focuses on his years as a member of the Constitutional congress and within the Executive branch.   Although Madison is known as the father of the Constitution, Gutzman work shows how every clause was the productive of multiplie personalities, all arguing with one another, and that the end result was a product Madison was reluctant to accept responsibility for. Despite his later alignment with the Republicans,  Madison began as a nationalist who wanted a stronger central union. It was enjoyable enough, but between lectures and books I overdid revolution and the Constitution.

Since returning from vacation I've started John Julius Norwich's Great Cities in History, which I love. It's a beautiful book,  covered in photos of art and of cityscapes,  delivering history from around the world. It's one of those pieces that people stop and admire if they spot it. Look for it soon. After that, the fun will continue!

Nullification

Nullification: How to Resist Federal Tyranny in the 21st Century
© 2011 Thomas E. Woods, Jr
309 pages

In a game of word association, chances are that 'nullification' would not meet with flattering replies. Nullification is a word associated with the Civil War, or the Civil Rights movement, of the southern states blocking attempts at racial equality by insisting on their own right to declare a federal law unconstitutional, and thus null and void. But nullification has a richer and nobler history than its modern critics realize; in Nullification,  Tom Woods explains the legal basis of the principle, demonstrates its use throughout early American history, and points out areas in which the states have adopted it as a tool today.

Nullification's sanction, Woods argues, rests in the little-c constitution of the United States. Though today the fifty states may seem like mere departments of the national polity, in the beginning this was not so. The united States began life not as a nation, but an agreement between thirteen, and with specific purposes. Treaties from the period enumerate the individual states, demonstrating their primacy. If not the States, who may declare a given law unconstitutional? The Supreme Court has assumed that role ('judicial review'), but as part of the government, how can it be expected to police itself?  The individual States, however, have existence without the national government, and it exists, or was supposed to have existed, as their handmaiden -- not the other way around. Theirs is the right to declare the actions of Congress, the President, and the Court unconstitutional -- but theirs is likewise the responsibility to create measures for frustrating the government's knavish tricks.

This they have done, from as early as the Adams presidency til today. Nullification first came onto the scene after the Federalist congress put into effect the Alien and Sedition Acts, which made defaming the government and its officials a crime. (Defaming the government was, until the rise of baseball, the national sport, and especially loved by Jefferson, Hamilton, and their respective parties.) Straightaway governors began throwing up barriers to federal agents attempting to arrest mouthy citizens. They did the same when, during the Napoleonic Wars, President Jefferson imposed an embargo on Europe -- an embargo that might have driven American trade to its knees. The reality and the threat of nullification continued to force the hands of overambitious executives. Today, legislative sabotage continues as states decriminalize marijuana use even as the federal  government continues to insist it's a no-no.   Given that the US attorney general is now retreating from parts of the War on Drugs (starting with that odd habit of theirs of seizing  property that has been declared guilty of participating in a crime), the principle seems just as potent.

Nullification is a small book (~165 pages, not counting the documents appended to it), but is a very worthy introduction to compact theory, in which the States are legally superior and not subordinate to the national state. It's also a respectable attempt to rescue nullification from its historical taint, but loses some points given that Woods never squarely addresses the threatened use of it during the 1960s, maintaining only that nullification is a weapon that can be used unjustly as easily as it can be for justice.  I was also hoping for other kinds of nullification to be covered (like jury nullification), but Woods focused only on formal measures by the States themselves.  Altogether it's a solid intro to the subject, and I am all for throwing wrenches into the machinery.


Related:
The Liberty Amendments, Mark Levin,  all of which aim to restore to the fifty states their original power over the central government.

The Liberty Amendments

The Liberty Amendments:  Restoring the American Republic
© 2013 Mark Levin
257 pages

The United States Constitution was written by men who appreciated their lack of omniscience, and who therefore included in Article V means for amending their handiwork, for fixing through Congress and the state legislatures any problems that might arise. How do you solve a problem through Congress, however, when Congress is the problem?   The solution, says Mark Levin, is right there in the Constitution: Article V, which establishes the means of amendment, provides two. While Congress can vote on amendments, the State Legislatures can independently  call a convention to propose amendments, amendments Congress is obliged to respect.

With that as a starting point, he introduces ten amendments intended to bring the metastasizing national government into hand. The amendments taken as a whole are strongly sympathetic to a states' rights perspective, as all three heads of the Scylla-like national government are subordinated further to the state legislatures. The legislatures are given the power to override Supreme Court decisions and acts of Congress, and  term limits are imposed on all branches, including on the formerly lifetime Court seats.  Levin's amendments make it clear that he believes sovereignty lies in the states alone. as he proposes measures intended to stifle the effort of the government to take a life of its own. The Supreme Court is denied a right it has assumed, that of judicial review (judging whether a law is constitutional), and federal programs are given an automatic expiration date that they escape only by submitting to a scrutionous review.  Most of the amendments are general and limited, with Levin arguing from what he believes the founders would have intended or believed; he draws on the Federalist papers, the anti-federalist papers, and the founding fathers' letters to inform his views. The exception to this is the tenth proposal, which requires photo ID for elections. This is so specific to current political arguments and current technology that it doesn't deserve the dignity of being attached to the Constitution: let it join the legions of acts of Congress.

As personally sympathetic as I am to any measure limiting the power of the state, and hostile to any measure intended to magnify its power,  something about this book doesn't sit right with me. Levin speaks often about the founders' firm belief in checks and balances, but his proposals put so many cards in the hands of the state legislatures something is bound to go wrong. The state legislatures are not havens of sensibility and justice; my own state has a constitution written by planters to disenfranchise the poor, place the burden of public finance on them, and force local ballot measures to be resolved by means of constitutional amendment.  On the other hand, perhaps we'd end up with something like Swiss cantons; that kind of dynamic localism is attractive.  My principle problem with Levin is that he doesn't bother with a dialogue but writes to people who already agree with him as he presents his case against the dreaded Statists, the Evil Ones.  I don't know if Levin's approach is the answer, but it's not mere talk: in late December, state legislatures sent representatives to George Washington's Virginia home in Mount Vernon to discuss the possibility of an "Article V Convention".   Thus, while Levin's amendments aren't necessarily ones I'd get behind in total (with the exception of term limits),  his basic premise of states using their article V right to discipline Congress, the Court, and the President has promise.

American Creation

American Creation: Triumphs and Tragedies at the Founding of the Republic
© Joseph Ellis
304 pages

In Founding Brothers, Joseph Ellis used a series of nonfictional 'stories' about the founding fathers of the United States to illustrate how their personal relationships with one another shaped the struggle for independence and later the creation of the Republic.  In American Creation, he uses the same approach, a series of vignettes, to explore moments which defined the course that Republic would take. Most occur after the revolution is won, and demonstrate how differently the founders dreamed from one another despite their accomplishments working with one another.  The result is what I've come to expect of Joseph Ellis: colorful narrative history that doesn't begrudge sympathy to any founder and leaves the reader with a fuller appreciation for the Revolution -- one which sees the founders as men, not demigods, who struggled against not only the prejudices and foibles of third parties, but against one another and their own inner demons.

The titular triumphs are well known, like the Declaration of Independence and  the miraculous survival of the Continental Army after Valley Forge, which was effected by both the persistent support of the people for the struggle and Washington's adoption of a strategy that played to his strengths: avoid battle and focus instead on controlling the countryside. Even so, Ellis may pass along new information to students of the period: for instance,  months before the storied Declaration of Independence was presented and signed,  each American colony drew up a constitution for itself in preparation for the impending separation from England, asserting self-rule in a fashion with immediate practical effects and much less bombast.  Of the tragedies, there are three: the failure to strangle slavery, the lack of any effective and just "Indian policy", and the birth of vicious parties. All three have the same mother: the interests of Southern planters, asserting the sovereignty of their individual states and dismissing the authority of any central government influenced by merchants and bankers.  Although Ellis is not a partisan historian,  the verdict of his pen is more for the Federalists than the Republicans.  The closest he comes to outright favoritism is in the chapter on party politics, "The Conspiracy", in which he attempts to answer the question: why were Thomas Jefferson and James Madison so paranoid about the Federalists, acting as though men who had lead the assault against tyranny would become tyrants themselves?  Adam's authorization of the Alien and Sedition acts hadn't yet come into being, nor had Hamilton suggested to Adams that South America could do with a proper invasion, but both make the student of history wonder if maybe Republican concerns weren't justified to some degree. Jefferson emerges from the section seemingly like an ambitious lunatic, however  -- which, perhaps he was. Though regarded as a man of science, his romantic attachment to the French Revolution, which he devoted service to at the expense of the American government, reveals how profoundly irrational he could be.

None of the founders emerge from this narrative unscathed: even the divine Washington is revealed as only human, unable to will a perfect treaty with a native nation (the Creeks, here) into being:  not are the Creeks cleverly led by a man who is treacherous as any Congressional politician, but American settlers have the damndest habit of not doing what the government would wish them to do. They keep flooding into Creek territory without a care in the world for foreign policy. Parliament would no doubt sympathize -- and just wait until you try taxing them, George. Oh, wait -- the whiskey rebellion is also covered. Men who occupy lesser roles in most Revolution narratives get to shine more here, like Roger Livingston, the Forrest Gump of the revolution, always somehow in the middle of the biggest moments of American history.  American Creation is a fitting read for the Fourth, one which offers a vision hopeful yet sober of what was created, and what may yet be restored: a nation of the people, by the people, for the people.

Founding Brothers

Founding Brothers:  the Revolutionary Generation

© 2000

288 pages

Laboring always at the same oar, with some wave ever ahead threatening to overwhelm us, and yet passing harmless under our bark, we knew not how, we rode through the storm with heart and hand and made a happy port. (Thomas Jefferson, letter to John Adams)

The Founding Fathers loom over Americans all of our lives: their portraits hang in our schoolrooms; their likenesses adorn our money. They are a peculiarity: an elite who created a democracy. The same set of men dreamed the American Revolution into being in Boston, fought for it at Trenton and Yorktown, struggled to bring its fruit to bear in Philadelphia, and finally attempted to steer the new ship of state onto a right course in Washington as one after the other assumed the presidency. Joseph Ellis’ eminently entertaining Founding Brothers focuses on how the interactions between these men as friends and rivals shaped the fate of a new nation, telling their story in six pieces.

Interestingly, Ellis opens the book by killing one of the central characters in his drama, Alexander Hamilton. Hamilton perished in a duel against Aaron Burr (as anyone who saw a particular “Got Milk?” commercial in the 1990s will remember vividly), but Ellis doesn’t take us to the misty ridge that is the site of their ritual just for kicks. He digs into the history of Hamilton and Burr’s feud, which – while it became personal – originated from their varying political beliefs, between the Federalists who desired a strong national government and the anti-Federalists (“Republicans”) who despised the idea. Ellis thus establishes early on that the modern penchant for looking back to “the Founders’ intention” is futile, because the Founders were rarely of one mind on any issue. In “The Silence”, two Quakers surprise Congress by asking them to consider the issue of slavery – an issue which they wanted to pointedly avoid. The blaze of debate raged for days thereafter, seeing every argument southerners would cite throughout the early 19^th century put into field. They were not blind to the hypocrisy of hailing victory and maintaining slavery, but somehow they found justification – in believing that slavery was a doomed enterprise and would die naturally if left alone, or in arguments from ‘economic necessity’. Throughout the book, these men argue about the meaning of the Revolution, and the ambiguities built in to the Constitution itself become clear. It was not meant to decide what kind of nation the United States was to be – only to give it its start.  The Founders’ own uncertainties and passionate disagreements are a central theme.

Although Ellis introduces the founders as an American pantheon, and refers to them (lightly) as demigods throughout, Founding Brothers somehow keeps these men on their pedestals while simultaneously freeing them from being simple marble idols to be admired from afar. In their fraililities and passions, they are manifestly human, and Ellis’ background allows us to step into their minds, to not only sense their emotions and understand their thinking, but to grasp why they were the men they were.  This matures into a strangely intimate piece for a history book, especially in the final sections which focus on the relationship between John Adams and Thomas Jefferson – first political allies, then foes, then tired old friends who write letter after letter to one another with the attitude that “we two ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to one another”. This is a beautifully effective way to close out the book, not only because their dynamic is particularly touching but because it allows the reader to linger on the unfinished legacy of the Revolution, to seek an answer for themselves as to what it means.

Founding Brothers is a  finely crafted book, a genuine pleasure to read and to consider.

Related:

Founding Rivals: Madison and Monroe and the Election that Saved a Nation, Chris DeRose

Washington's Secret War, Thomas Fleming

Founding Rivals

Founding Rivals | Madison vs. Monroe: the Bill of Rights and the Election that Saved a Nation
© 2011 Chris DeRose
336 pages

In these days of contentious politics, where adversaries rip into one another with all the grace of beasts,  Chris DeRose's Founding Rivals is downright heartening. It is the story of a friendship born of revolution and the struggle to create a more perfect union,  a friendship which helped define that union...and one which persevered even as the two friends found themselves running against one another for the same seat in the first Congress of the United States.

Madison and Monroe's names stand tall throughout American history. Public servants for most of their lives, and eventually the fourth and fifth presidents respectively,  they began their careers in America's most exciting time. They agitated for independence and drilled for war: during the conflict, Madison became a statesman while Monroe served in the Continental army.  While Madison and his colleagues attempted to bring together the selfishly quarreling colonies together in a common cause, and put together a functioning government amidst the chaos of war, Monroe was nearly killed in combat and served faithfully throughout the war, seeking  a place in the battle even when he had the opportunity to remain safely behind the scenes. After York Town, Monroe joined Madison in public office and the two were introduced through a mutual friend, Thomas Jefferson.

Together they agonized about the limitations of the Articles of Confederation, and through their letters DeRose offers readers a look into the early years of the Republic, at a time when the legislature of Virginia held more power than the Congress of the confederacy. The states are united in name only: their collective government has little power and only marginal influence.  In these troubled years, debt increases, rebellion sweeps through the backwoods, and the powers of Europe smile at the fledgling nation's impotency. Spain, especially, sees America's faltering as a promising sign that it will maintain control of the Mississippi.

The letters between Madison and Monroe are a delight to read. They possess an elegance lost today, and reflect a serious-minded approach to governance that our current candidates would do well to emulate. In preparing for a constitutional convention, Madison engaged himself in an exhaustive study of confederacies throughout history,  adding that to an already impressive political education to guide him in finding an effective form of government for the new nation -- one which would be strong enough to defend against foreign foes and honor its debts, but not so strong as to crush the sovereignty of the people under one authority.  After an initial failure at Annapolis, Madison, Monroe, and others are finally successful in organizing a convention in Philadelphia. The two are never in Congress at the same time: when one is seated in the national council, the other is present in Virginia's house of delegates,  and they work together for the common cause.  In Philadelphia, however, after Madison presents his ideas -- a framework we know today as the US Constitution -- their collaboration ends.

The nation falls into two parties, Federalist and Antifederalist.  Federalists like Madison advocate for the immediate adoption of the Constitution,  while the Antifederalists oppose it. Some, like Patrick Henry, appear to vigorously oppose the Constitution just to delight in the sound of their own voice. Others are concerned about the lack of a Bill of Rights protecting the people against the government overstepping its authority. Monroe in particular is concerned about the amount of power the Constitution gives the central government,  seeing its ability to directly tax the people as problematic at best and inviting tyranny at worst.  DeRose covers the raucous debate in Virginia's House of Delegates, where the Constitution is just narrowly ratified. Virginia was arguably the most influential state in the union at this point, a fact lost to modern readers who are accustomed to the leadership of states like New York and California today.

Even though the Constitution is ratified, the Antifederalists are not content to accept defeat. Instead, they see the first congressional elections for the new state as an opportunity to put their men into office to maintain the status quo while they organize efforts to call for another constitutional convention -- a prospect that Washington, Jefferson, and Madison are united in seeing as patently dangerous.  To oppose Madison, the author of the Constitution and its most eloquent defenders, the Antifederalists choose Monroe...and in the book's penultimate chapter, the 'election that saved a nation' takes precedence.

DeRose may be over-stressing a point here -- the claim is certainly dramatic -- but the election is certainly worth considering. Having accomplished the great task of getting the Constitution ratified, Madison can now advocate for amending it with a bill of rights, to win over the two states which have not yet joined the union, and gain the support of those who accepted it only grudgingly, like New York and Virginia. DeRose sees the presence of Monroe as prompting this decision on Madison's part, the younger forcing Madison to temper his defense of the Constitution. It is quite possible, considering that earlier -- in Virginia -- Madison staunchly maintained that no bill of rights was necessary to tell the government what it could not do, because nothing in the Constitution gave the government the right to interfere with civil rights in the first place.

Even though I'm not necessarily convinced that the election of Madison to a particular seat in the house of Representatives saved the nation, Founding Rivals is excellent history. These two extraordinary gentlemen lived lives of distinction, lives worth noting. Madison's views on the hypocrisy of slavery are particularly impressive considering the time in which he lived.  DeRose's account follows the lives of these two admirable men through some of the most critical periods of American history, giving readers an education on what the government was like between Revolution and the Constitution.  Moreover, the relationship between these two men is a standing reproach to the narrowminded, vicious, petty, and pathetically partisan politics of today. Witness here a friendship that survived political combat, and be reminded of the principles of good government -- not just the rights we value through political philosophy, but our approach to people.  Though disagreeing on the Constitution, these two were united in their civil-mindedness, their tolerance of one another's opinions, and their sincere commitment to the common good.

Securing Democracy

Securing Democracy: Why We Have an Electoral College

© 2001 ed. Gary Gregg II

171 pages

"The Framers of the Constitution would have been appalled at the notion that over time the presidency would become an objection pf partisan ambition, that candidates for the Electoral College would be identified on the ballot as supporters of particular candidates or pass unmentioned altogether, that in some states the electors would be required by law to vote for the candidate to whom they were pledged, and that for all intents and purposes the President of the United States would be directly elected by the people." - p. 61, author Paul Rahe

I collect recordings of political speeches, and there's one from 2004 that tends to bother me. It's either former President Bush's address to the RNC or his victory speech, but in one of the two he addresses party members, citizens, and "delegates". That one word makes me raise an eyebrow. Delegates? I've had a basic understanding of the Electoral College's function since high school, I suppose, but when I heard "delegates" and remembered that people don't actually vote for the president, I was instantly bothered. What's going on here? I know that the winners of a given state's election get that state's electoral votes, and it those votes that count in the national election, but I was bothered by the fact that there were people who cast those votes. Who's to say they won't just vote how they see it, instead of how the people see it? I decided to read this book to sort out these questions -- to figure out where delegates fit into the system. Humorously, I found the answer to those questions in the introduction -- but I read the rest of the book, too, and I'm glad I did.

The book is a collection of essays from various authors published as a result of the drama following the 2000 election, when people started calling for the abashment of the College. Concerned, Gregg began looking for contributors for a book meant to explain and defend the electoral college. The themes in the various essays are by and large the same: the Constitution was written to create a series of checks and balances not only in the central government, but between the government, the states, and the people themselves. In his introductory essay, Gregg writes that the founders did not intend to create a wholly democratic country: they intended to create one that created good laws, and to this end they attempted to create means through which laws and presidents would be decided on with great deliberation -- not drummed in through majority rule, which is susceptible to growing wildly passionate about one issue or one man. (I suppose an example of that is people in Alabama voting for a ban on same-sex marriage: no gay person in their right mind would come to Alabama to get married. That's like going to Saudi Arabia as a woman to feel the sun on your face.)

According to Gregg and the other authors, the states were to send delegates -- prudent statesmen with no government role and well-respected citizens -- to a convention, where they would all talk together and decide on what man was best for the job. Also according to the authors, this worked twice: once to elect George Washington, and once to re-elect him. After that, the formation of party politics changed the nature of the electoral college. Interestingly, although the College no longer works the way it was intended, it works still to moderate the two-party system. Many of the authors elaborate on this.

The book reads well: since the authors were not working in concert with one another, they sometimes repeat one another on general statements, but there's a general variety of topics here. Often they will mention the same facts or refer to the same situations, but use them to discuss different sides of the issue. The book gives me a lot of think about, as my own political opinions in regard to ideal democratic systems are mixed. It did help me understand the function of the College, both today and as it was intended. The book includes several relevant articles from the Constitution and from the Federalist Papers.