|
by David
Dieteman
"[A]n
attempt to subjugate the seceded States, even if successful,
could produce nothing but evil – evil unmitigated in
character and appalling in extent."
Detroit Free
Press, February 19, 1861
in Thomas DiLorenzo, "Yankee Confederates,"
Secession,
State and Liberty p 152
More than a few
self-described conservatives and libertarians wonder why it is
that other self-described conservatives and libertarians
revere and defend the Old South. Virginia Postrel and David
Boaz come to mind.
Put many of
those who write for the Claremont Institute in the
"wondering" category as well. Since I have
previously addressed the writings of Ken Masugi, director of
the Claremont’s Center for Local Government, this article
will address the arguments advanced by two other Claremont
Institute writiers, Mackubin Thomas Owens and Charles Kesler.
In particular, this article will compare the views of the
Claremont Institute’s writers with those of three prominent
American legal writers: William Rawle, St. George Tucker, and
Lysander Spooner.
Mackubin
Thomas Owens
Mackubin
Thomas Owens, an adjunct fellow of the Claremont Institute
and professor of strategy and force planning at the Naval War
College in Newport, RI (and a Marine infantry veteran of
Vietnam), wonders why some libertarians like the South and
dislike Lincoln. Despite this fact, he spends the entirety of
his article "The Case Against Secession" attacking
the arguments of Alexander Stephens, the vice-president of the
CSA. Stephens appears to have been something of a classical
liberal, and had many good things to say. To understand
contemporary libertarians, however, Owens perhaps would do
better to address the arguments of contemporary libertarians;
he makes no references in the article to the prominent books
on the topic by Charles Adams and Jeffrey Rogers Hummel.
At any rate,
Professor Owens makes several arguments against secession,
which will be analyzed one a time. First, Owens contends that
When
the Neo-Confederates and their libertarian friends make
Lincoln out to be a scoundrel who plunged America into an
avoidable war, they ignore the fact that his views on Union
and the nature of republican government differed not at all
from those of such luminaries as Washington, Jefferson,
Madison, Andrew Jackson, and Daniel Webster.
Lincoln is
nothing like Jefferson, who does not belong in this group.
Instead, Lincoln more closely resembles John Adams – who
persecuted Jeffersonian republicans like Benjamin Franklin
Bache, the grandson of Benjamin Franklin, via the Alien
and Sedition Acts, just as Lincoln persecuted countless
publishers and editors, as well as a U.S. Congressman from
Ohio named Clement
Vallandigham. Andy
Jackson is no help to Lincoln, since Jackson wanted to
invade South Carolina over the nullification
crisis, but did not; he is an early "what Lincoln might
have been." Webster was a warmonger and a Northern
nationalist. Maybe Washington, who put down the Whiskey
Rebellion, belongs. Even so, as Aristotle notes, the argument
from authority is the weakest argument. Mere name-dropping
cannot decide the question of the legitimacy of secession.
This argument is name-dropping (founding fathers) to support
name-dropping (Lincoln as synonymous with greatness).
Second, Owens
argues that
had
secession been permitted to stand, the breakup of the Union
would have continued. Where that dynamic would have led is
suggested by the fact that in January 1861, Fernando Wood, the
Democratic mayor of New York City, recommended that the city
secede from the state of New York and establish itself as a
"free city."
For starters,
most New York State residents who live outside of the Big
Apple would probably applaud such a move today. Also, what’s
wrong with a free city? Owens merely assumes that such
independence is a bad thing.
Third, Owens
claims that
For
the Founders, the purpose of government was to protect the
equal natural rights of all. They understood these rights to
be antecedent to the creation of political society and
government. The just powers of government are derived from the
consent of the governed who possess the equal natural rights
that republican government is supposed to protect. While
the people never relinquish their right to revolution, in
practice, this natural right is replaced by free elections,
the outcome of which are determined by majority rule.
(emphasis added)
The above
sentence in bold is indefensible. If people "in
practice" give up their natural right to revolt, it
cannot be said that they "never relinquish" their
right to revolt, for the right to revolt means nothing if it
cannot be realized in practice. In writing that the natural
right of revolution is replaced by free elections, Owens
contradicts his other argument that "There was no such
thing as a constitutional right to secede and for whatever
reason, the South never invoked the right of revolution."
According to Owens, the natural right of revolution is
replaced by free elections – so what was the South supposed
to have invoked?
Additionally,
if we grant Owens’ argument as true, for the sake of
argument, a consideration of the essence of the argument shows
its error. Essentially, Owens contends that the South would
have been justified in seceding if they had "invoked the
natural right of revolution," instead of claiming a
constitutional right to secede. This argument is exceedingly
formalistic and weak. The deaths of 620,000 Americans cannot
be justified on the grounds that the South, wrongly asserting
a statutory right to secede, should have asserted a natural
right to secede. Furthermore, if one has a natural right to
revolt, must one actually articulate that right in order to be
justified in acting upon that natural right?
These arguments
of Owens have been refuted by no less than three significant
American legal thinkers: Lysander Spooner, William Rawle, and
St. George Tucker.
Lysander
Spooner
The Northern
abolitionist Lysander
Spooner, in his famous work No
Treason (originally published between 1867 and 1870),
argues that there are three types of men who support the
Constitution:
The
ostensible supporters of the Constitution, like the ostensible
supporters of most other governments, are made up of three
classes, viz.: 1. Knaves, a numerous and active class, who see
in the government an instrument which they can use for their
own aggrandizement or wealth. 2. Dupes – a large class, no
doubt – each of whom, because he is allowed one voice out of
millions in deciding what he may do with his own person and
his own property, and because he is permitted to have the same
voice in robbing, enslaving, and murdering others, that others
have in robbing, enslaving, and murdering himself, is stupid
enough to imagine that he is a "free man," a
"sovereign"; that this is "a free
government"; "a government of equal rights,"
"the best government on earth," [Suppose it be
"the best government on earth," does that prove its
own goodness, or only the badness of all other governments?]
and such like absurdities. 3. A class who have some
appreciation of the evils of government, but either do not see
how to get rid of them, or do not choose to so far sacrifice
their private interests as to give themselves seriously and
earnestly to the work of making a change.
Spooner also
hits upon the true reason for Lincoln’s war, namely, the
need to keep money flowing into the federal treasury via
enforcement of the protective tariff:
All
political power, so called, rests practically upon this matter
of money. Any number of scoundrels, having money enough to
start with, can establish themselves as a
"government"; because, with money, they can hire
soldiers, and with soldiers extort more money; and also compel
general obedience to their will. It is with government, as
Caesar said it was in war, that money and soldiers mutually
supported each other; that with money he could hire soldiers,
and with soldiers extort money. So these villains, who call
themselves governments, well understand that their power rests
primarily upon money. With money they can hire soldiers, and
with soldiers extort money. And, when their authority is
denied, the first use they always make of money, is to hire
soldiers to kill or subdue all who refuse them more money.
The love of
money is the root of all evil. And it is omnipotent government
which is best able to carry out the evil plans of those who
love money.
Spooner also
explains the logical consequences of Owens’ view of the
constitution in No Treason:
Moreover,
this supposed contract, which would not be received in any
court of justice sitting under its authority, if offered to
prove a debt of five dollars, owing by one man to another, is
one by which – AS IT IS GENERALLY INTERPRETED BY THOSE WHO
PRETEND TO ADMINISTER IT – all men, women and children
throughout the country, and through all time, surrender not
only all their property, but also their liberties, and even
lives, into the hands of men who by this supposed contract,
are expressly made wholly irresponsible for their disposal of
them.
Where Spooner
makes a legal and philosophical case against such a blank
check for totalitarianism, the cases made by William Rawle and
St. George Tucker are more purely legal.
As Arthur
Sutherland observes of Rawle and Tucker in the 1968
introduction to Joseph
Story’s Commentaries
on the Constitution,
Story’s
Constitution was not the first American book on the subject.
Hamilton, Madison, and Jay had written the Federalist Papers,
which appeared serially in newspapers in 1787-1788 and which
ever since, as published in book form and republished in
numerous editions, has remained an invaluable commentary. The
first volume of St. George Tucker’s 1803 edition of
Blackstone contained, as a 237-page appendix, a "View of
the Constitution of the United States." Thomas Sergeant
published his Constitutional Law in Philadelphia in 1822; a
second edition appeared in 1830. William Rawle published his
View of the Constitution in Philadelphia in 1825. Rawle’s
book is now principally remembered because he expressed in it
the view that any state of the Union could constitutionally
secede if the unequivocal voices of the state’s people so
determined. Rawle’s text was used for instruction at West
Point when the men who came to lead the Confederate armies in
1861-1865 were cadets.
Justice Story
(who had advocated secession by New England) wrote the opinion
in the Amistad
case, where former president John Quincy Adams (also an
advocate of secession by New England) argued for the enslaved
Africans (regarding the secessionism of Story and Adams, see
Thomas DiLorenzo, "Yankee Confederates," in Secession,
State and Liberty, ed. David Gordon).
Rawle, by the
way, was George Washington’s first candidate to be the first
Attorney General of the United States; the Temple University
Law Library has a Rawle
Reading Room, and there was a Liberty
Ship named after Rawle in World War Two. Rawle’s
Philadelphia law firm, Rawle and Henderson, founded in 1783,
was recognized by the Pennsylvania Legislature (you need Adobe
Acrobat for this PDF)
as "the oldest law office in continuous practice in
America" in 1983. William Rawle’s grandfather, Francis
Rawle, wrote the first book published by Benjamin Franklin.
Additionally, William Rawle was the United States Attorney for
the District of Pennsylvania (appointed by George Washington),
and a founder of the Philadelphia Bar Association.
In short, Rawle
and Tucker are American legal scholars of considerable note.
(You can read Rawle’s A
View of the Constitution online here or buy
it here).
William Rawle
Discussing the
nature of the union in Chapter
32, Rawle writes that
The
Union is an association of the people of republics; its
preservation is calculated to depend on the preservation of
those republics.
If
a faction should attempt to subvert the government of a state
for the purpose of destroying its republican form, the
paternal power of the Union could thus be called forth to
subdue it.
Yet
it is not to be understood, that its interposition would be
justifiable, if the people of a state should determine to
retire from the Union, whether they adopted another or
retained the same form of government, or if they should, with
the, express intention of seceding, expunge the representative
system from their code, and thereby incapacitate themselves
from concurring according to the mode now prescribed, in the
choice of certain public officers of the United States.
The
principle of representation, although certainly the wisest and
best, is not essential to the being of a republic, but to
continue a member of the Union, it must be preserved, and
therefore the guarantee must be so construed. It depends on
the state itself to retain or abolish the principle of
representation, because it depends on itself whether it will
continue a member of the Union. To deny this right would be
inconsistent with the principle on which all our political
systems are founded, which is, that the people have in all
cases, a right to determine how they will be governed.
The
states, then, may wholly withdraw from the Union, but while
they continue, they must retain the character of
representative republics. Governments of dissimilar forms and
principles cannot long maintain a binding coalition.
"Greece," says Montesquieu, "was undone as soon
as the king of Macedon obtained a seat in the amphyctionic
council." [Federalist No. 43] It is probable, however,
that the disproportionate force as well as the monarchical
form of the new confederate had its share of influence in the
event. But whether the historical fact supports the theory or
not, the principle in respect to ourselves is unquestionable.
In other words,
states were free to become monarchies, but would have to leave
the union in order to do so. As Rawle continues,
If
from any other motives, or under any other pretexts, the
internal peace and order of the state are disturbed, and its
own powers are insufficient to suppress the commotion, it
becomes the duty of its proper government to apply to the
Union for protection...At the same time it is properly
provided, in order that such interference may not wantonly or
arbitrarily take place; that it shall only be, on the request
of the state authorities: otherwise the self-government of the
state might be encroached upon at the pleasure of the Union,
and a small state might fear or feel the effects of a
combination of larger states against it under colour of
constitutional authority.
On Rawle’s
view, then, Lincoln’s invasion of the South was wholly
unconstitutional. Not only did the Southern states not ask for
federal troops to "restore order," the Southern
states declared themselves to have left the union.
Specifically
regarding secession, Rawle writes that
The
secession of a state from the Union depends on the will of the
people of such state. The people alone as we have already
seen, hold the power to alter their constitution. The
Constitution of the United States is to a certain extent,
incorporated into the constitutions or the several states by
the act of the people. The state legislatures have only to
perform certain organical operations in respect to it. To
withdraw from the Union comes not within the general scope of
their delegated authority. There must be an express pro-
vision to that effect inserted in the state constitutions.
This is not at present the case with any of them, and it would
perhaps be impolitic to confide it to them. A matter so
momentous, ought not to be entrusted to those who would have
it in their power to exercise it lightly and precipitately
upon sudden dissatisfaction, or causeless jealousy, perhaps
against the interests and the wishes of a majority of their
constituents.
But
in any manner by which a secession is to take place, nothing
is more certain than that the act should be deliberate, clear,
and unequivocal. The perspicuity and solemnity of the original
obligation require correspondent qualities in its dissolution.
The powers of the general government cannot be defeated or
impaired by an ambiguous or implied secession on the part of
the state, although a secession may perhaps be conditional.
The people of the state may have some reasons to complain in
respect to acts of the general government, they may in such
cases invest some of their own officers with the power of
negotiation, and may declare an absolute secession in case of
their failure. Still, however, the secession must in such case
be distinctly and peremptorily declared to take place on that
event, and in such case – as in the case of an unconditional
secession – the previous ligament with the Union, would be
legitimately and fairly destroyed. But in either case the
people is the only moving power.
But
we may pursue the subject somewhat further.
To
withdraw from the Union is a solemn, serious act. Whenever it
may appear expedient to the people of a state, it must be
manifested in a direct and unequivocal manner. If it is ever
done indirectly, the people must refuse to elect
representatives, as well as to suffer their legislature to
re-appoint senators. The senator whose time had not yet
expired, must be forbidden to continue in the exercise of his
functions.
But
without plain, decisive measures of this nature, proceeding
from the only legitimate source, the people, the United States
cannot consider their legislative powers over such states
suspended, nor their executive or judicial powers any way
impaired, and they would not be obliged to desist from the
collection of revenue within such state.
As
to the remaining states among themselves, there is no opening
for a doubt. Secessions may reduce the number to the smallest
integer admitting combination. They would remain united under
the same principles and regulations among themselves that now
apply to the whole. For a state cannot be compelled by other
states to withdraw from the Union, and therefore, if two or
more determine to remain united, although all the others
desert them, nothing can be discovered in the Constitution to
prevent it.
The
consequences of an absolute secession cannot be mistaken, and
they would be serious and afflicting.
The
seceding state, whatever might be its relative magnitude,
would speedily and distinctly feel the loss of the aid and
countenance of the Union. The Union losing a proportion of the
national revenue, would be entitled to demand from it a
proportion of the national debt. It would be entitled to treat
the inhabitants and the commerce of the separated state, as
appertaining to a foreign country. In public treaties already
made, whether commercial or political, it could claim no
participation, while foreign powers would unwillingly
calculate, and slowly transfer to it, any portion of the
respect and confidence borne towards the United States.
Evils
more alarming may readily be perceived. The destruction of the
common hand would be unavoidably attended with more serious
consequences than the mere disunion of the parts.
Separation
would produce jealousies and discord, which in time would
ripen into mutual hostilities, and while our country would be
weakened by internal war, foreign enemies would be encouraged
to invade with the flattering prospect of subduing in detail,
those whom, collectively, they would dread to encounter.
Such
in ancient times was the fate of Greece, broken into numerous
independent republics. Rome, which pursued a contrary policy,
and absorbed all her territorial acquisitions in one great
body, attained irresistible power. But it may be objected,
that Rome also has fallen. It is true; and such is the history
of man. Natural life and political existence alike give way at
the appointed measure of time, and the birth, decay, and
extinction of empires only serve to prove the tenuity and
illusion of the deepest schemes of the statesman, and the most
elaborate theories of the philosopher. Yet it is always our
duty to inquire into, and establish those plans and forms of
civil association most conducive to present happiness and long
duration: the rest we must leave to Divine Providence, which
hitherto has so graciously smiled on the United States of
America.
William Rawle,
then, was not without feeling for the preservation of the
union. As Rawle also writes in Chapter 32 of A View of the
Constitution,
In
every aspect therefore which this great subject presents, we
feel the deepest impression of a sacred obligation to preserve
the union of our country; we feel our glory, our safety, and
our happiness, involved in it; we unite the interests of those
who coldly calculate advantages with those who glow with what
is little short of filial affection; and we must resist the
attempt of its own citizens to destroy it, with the same
feelings that we should avert the dagger of the parricide.
In addition to
recognizing such patriotic considerations, Rawle recognized
the right of secession.
St. George
Tucker
St. George
Tucker, in his View
of the Constitution of the United States, likewise
considered secession to be a genuine right. In the foreward to
Tucker’s View of the Constitution, Clyde Wilson
explains that
Tucker
is the exponent of Jeffersonian republicanism, or what has
been called "South Atlantic republicanism," in
contrast to the commercial republicanism of New England that
has since the Civil War been taken to be the only true form of
American philosophy. The political background of Tucker’s
work is significant. The Constitution had been ratified
reluctantly and with reservations by Virginia and New York
(and not at all by North Carolina and Rhode Island) only on
the understanding that amendments would be made. Twelve such
amendments were proposed by the First Congress, and ten of
them swiftly were ratified. This "Bill of Rights"
was to reassert the limited nature of the new government’s
powers and their dependence solely on the delegation of the
people of the several sovereign states.
Hardly
had the federal government gotten under way, however, than the
largely Northern political faction gathered under Hamilton and
Adams launched an initiative to stretch those powers as far as
they would go, and to make light of the limits. Much of this
expansion represented a desire to use the government in
mercantilist ways – for example, a national bank, a funded
national debt, a commercial treaty with Great Britain. All
were policies that profited the commercial classes of the
North and were burdensome to the free-trade agricultural
empire of the South. (xii-xiii)
Invoking the
Declaration of Independence and prefiguring (if not, perhaps,
inspiring) Lysander Spooner, St. George Tucker contends as
follows:
That
mankind have a right to bind themselves by their own voluntary
acts, can scarcely be questioned: but how far have they a
right to enter into engagements to bind their posterity
likewise? Are the acts of the dead binding upon their living
posterity, to all generations; or has posterity the same
natural rights which their ancestors have enjoyed before them?
And if they have, what right have any generation of men to
establish any particular form of government for succeeding
generations?
The
answer is not difficult: "Government," said the
congress of the American States, in behalf of their
constituents, "derives its just authority from the
consent of the governed." This fundamental principle then
may serve as a guide to direct our judgment with respect to
the question. To which we may add, in the words of the author
of Common Sense, a law is not binding upon posterity, merely,
because it was made by their ancestors; but, because posterity
have not repealed it. It is the acquiescence of posterity
under the law, which continues its obligation upon them, and
not any right which their ancestors had to bind them.
Until,
therefore, the people of the United States, whether the
present, or any future generation, shall think it necessary to
alter, or revoke the present constitution of the United
States, it must be received, respected, and obeyed among us,
as the great and unequivocal declaration of the will of the
people, and the supreme law of the land. (123)
In the same
volume of commentaries, St. George Tucker also contends
(correctly) that the government of the Constitution was born
of secession from the Articles of Confederation. As Tucker
writes,
Such
was the proceeding on the part of those of the American states
which first adopted the present constitution of the United
States, and established a form of federal government,
essentially different from that which was first established by
the articles of confederation, leaving the states of Rhode
Island and North Carolina, both of which, at first, rejected
the new constitution, to themselves. This was an evident
breach of that article of the confederation, which stipulated
that those "articles should be inviolably observed by
every state, and that the union should be perpetual; nor
should any alteration at any time thereafter be made in any of
them, unless such alteration be agreed to in the congress of
the United States, and be afterwards confirmed by the
legislatures of every state." Yet the seceding states, as
they may be not improperly termed, did not hesitate, as soon
as nine states had ratified the new constitution, to supersede
the former federal government and establish a new form, more
consonant to their opinion of what was necessary to the
preservation and prosperity of the federal union. (84)
Here, Tucker
takes what might be termed a realistic view of the situation,
noting that although Rhode Island and North Carolina might
have chosen to complain about the improper ratification
procedures for the new constitution, such a complaint would
not alter the natural right of revolution:
the
seceding states were certainly justified upon that principle;
and from the duty which every state is acknowledged to owe to
itself, and its own citizens by doing whatsoever may best
contribute to advance its own happiness and prosperity; and
much more, what may be necessary to the preservation of its
existence as a state. Nor must we forget that solemn
declaration [note that Tucker does not use capital letters for
certain documents; he refers here to the Declaration of
Independence] to which every one of the confederate states [he
means the American states under the Articles of
Confederation]...that whenever any form of government is
destructive of the ends of its institution, it is the right of
the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute new
government. Consequently whenever the people of any state, or
number of states, discovered the inadequacy of the first form
of federal government to promote or preserve their
independence, happiness, and union, they only exerted that
natural right in rejecting it, and adopting another...And
since the seceding states [again, those nine who first
ratified the Constitution], by establishing a new constitution
and form of federal government among themselves, without the
consent of the rest, have shown that they consider the right
to do so whenever the occasion may, in their opinion require
it, as unquestionable, we may infer that that right has not
been diminished by any new compact which they may since have
entered into, since none could be more solemn or explicit than
the first, nor more binding upon the contracting parties.
Their obligation, therefore, to preserve the present
constitution, is not greater than their former obligations
were, to adhere to the articles of confederation; each state
possessing the same right of withdrawing itself from the
confederacy without the consent of the rest, as any number of
them do, or ever did, possess. (85-86)
Like William
Rawle, Tucker also notes that secession is not a step to be
taken lightly:
Prudence,
indeed, will dictate, that governments established by compact
should not be changed for light or transient causes; but
should a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing
invariably the same object, evince a design in any one of the
confederates to usurp a dominion over the rest; or, if those
who are entrusted to administer the government, which the
confederates have for their mutual convenience established,
should manifest a design to invade their sovereignty, and
extend their own power beyond the terms of the compact, to the
detriment of the states respectively, and to reduce them to a
state of obedience, and finally to establish themselves in a
state of permanent superiority, it then become not only the
right, but the duty of the states respectively, to throw off
such government, and to provide new guards for their future
security. To deny this, would be to deny to sovereign and
independent states, the power which, as colonies, and
dependent territories, they have mutually agreed they had a
right to exercise, and did actually exercise, when they shook
off the government of England, first, and adopted the present
constitution of the United States, in the second instance.
(86)
With respect to
the Articles of Confederation, St. George Tucker is exactly
correct. In contrast to Tucker’s logical analysis of the
change from the Articles of Confederation to the Constitution,
the chief contemporary scholarship on the issue is
unconvincing.
Forrest
McDonald, for example, perhaps unwittingly resorts to a
thought-problem of international law courses known as the
"McDougal hypothesis" (so-named because of a law
review article by Professor Myres McDougal) by contending
that, rather than view the ratification as in violation of the
Articles of Confederation, one should instead take the view
that the improper ratification was, in effect, an amendment of
the amending process provided in the Articles of
Confederation. As McDonald writes in States’ Rights and
the Union,
The
Articles of Confederation specified a means of amendment –
amendments recommended by Congress had to be ratified by the
legislatures of every state – but the convention determined
to get around that provision by seeking the approval of
ratifying conventions especially elected for the purpose. In a
manner of speaking, it did comply with the Articles by sending
the Constitution to Congress with a recommendation that
Congress send it to the state legislatures and that the
legislatures call ratifying conventions. Inasmuch as Congress
and (ultimately) the thirteen legislatures complied with the
request, their actions in effect constituted an amendment to
the Articles’ amending process. (20)
Yale University
Press advertises one of its international law textbooks
as follows: "the New Haven School that views
international law not as a fixed set of rules but as an
ongoing process of decision making through which the members
of the world community identify, clarify, and secure their
common interests." In other words, there is no law, only
an "ongoing process of decision making," i.e., the
acquiescence in an act by all parties involved "makes it
legal."
Thank you,
Senator Palpatine. Once again, we see that "might makes
right."
James Ostrowski
provides a better account of the ratification of the
Constitution: it was an illegal act, and hence a nullity:
The
secession of 1788 can probably not be justified by reference
to Article VI: "No two or more states shall enter into
any treaty, confederation or alliance whatever between them,
without the consent of the united states in congress
assembled, specifying accurately the purposes for which the
same is to be entered into, and how long it shall
continue." The new Constitution was an
"alteration" which had the effect of abolishing the
previous government. Thus, such a measure required the
procedure set forth in Article XIII: consent of Congress plus
the unanimous consent of each of the states. (p. 163, n. 16)
However, as
there was no court in which to press such a claim, even if the
ratification had been challenged, it would have to stand. As
St. George Tucker observes, if North Carolina and Rhode Island
had not ratified the Constitution, they would have had the
option of continuing to abide by the Articles of
Confederation, or of going their separate ways as the
independent sovereign states that they were at the time of the
Revolution against England. Recall that in the Treaty
of Paris, which ended the Revolutionary War, King George
recognized the colonies as independent nations:
His
Brittanic Majesty acknowledges the said United States, viz.,
New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island and Providence
Plantations, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania,
Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina and
Georgia, to be free sovereign and independent states, that he
treats with them as such, and for himself, his heirs, and
successors, relinquishes all claims to the government,
propriety, and territorial rights of the same and every part
thereof.
Ultimately,
McDonald contends that 13 "political societies"
ratified the Constitution. Pace McDonald, James
Ostrowski notes that the preamble to the constitution was
changed from "We the people of the United States, viz.
New Hampsire," etc., to simply "We the people of the
United States" because it was not known in advance which
states would ratify the document. (p 177, citing Judge Eugene
Gary, "The Constitutional Right of Secession"). This
would seem to pose a problem for McDonald’s "political
society" argument. (Note: despite his view of the
Articles of Confederation, McDonald criticizes Lincoln’s
"nationalist" claim that the union is older than the
states).
More seriously,
Ostrowski notes that the text of the Constitution does not
support the argument that "the people" ratified it:
the
Constitution did not "emanate from the whole
people." Leaving aside the preamble for the moment [Ostrowski’s
argument against it appears above], the actual language of the
texts of Articles VII and V is to the contrary:
The
Ratification of the Conventions of nine States shall be
sufficient for the Establishment of this Constitution between
the States so ratifying the Same....Done in Convention by the
Unanimous Consent of the States present.
[The
Constitution may be amended] when ratified by the Legislatures
of three fourths of the several States, or by Conventions in
three fourths, thereof....
Since
the Constitution was proposed by a convention called by the
states, was ratified by the states, and can only be amended by
the states, any notion that "the government proceeds
directly from the people," that it is "of the
people" and "by the people," or that it
"emanates from the whole people" can only be
described as metaphysical nonsense invented by those who view
the states as a mere inconvenience on the path to creating an
all-powerful central government. (176-77)
The reason that
allegedly impartial scholars gloss over the improper
"amending" of the Articles of Confederation is that
they are glad to have the Constitution instead of the
allegedly disastrous Articles of Confederation (the alleged
flaws of the Articles of Confederation are the subject of a
separate forthcoming essay). In other words, there are
scholars (I do not claim that Forrest McDonald is one of them)
that reason, in effect, that "the constitution is a good
thing, so that which brought it about must be good as
well."
Also, the
notion of a "political society" apart from the state
is problematic for the Lincoln admirers, since it lends
credence to the view that nation and State are separate, but
equally real, entities. Disappointingly, McDonald mishandles
the issue of secession in Novus Ordo Seclorum, where he
writes that the question of secession "could be settled
only by the arbitrament of force." As Jefferson Davis
famously remarked, "A question settled by force of arms
remains forever unsettled."
Despite Jeff
Davis’ point, I have heard more than a few law professors
remark that "we fought a war over that" when
questions of constitutional interpretation are raised. On the
other side of the war and of political philosophy from
Jefferson Davis, Ulysses S. Grant stated that "the right
of a state to secede from the Union [has been] settled forever
by the highest tribunal – arms – that man can resort
to." (Ostrowski 185)
If presidents
Lincoln and Grant thought that rifles trumped the Supreme
Court, was Al Gore’s legal circus in Florida really so
wrong? Of course it was, and so were Lincoln and Grant, so
long as one believes in the rule of law and not men.
Very much on
the bright side, McDonald’s work (notably Chapters 5 and 6
of E Pluribus Unum) illustrates the fact that adoption
of the Constitution of 1789 was not a holy or miraculous
event. Instead, it was the result of – surprise! – typical
human motivations: greed, the lust for power, and a
combination of foolishness and good intentions. For example,
Robert Morris, who had financed the American revolution,
wanted to be repaid. Since he was unable to pass appropriate
measures in the Congress, as McDonald notes in States’
Rights and the Union (p 13), in 1782, Morris tried to
get the Continental Army to threaten a coup to scare Congress
into action; George Washington closely avoided a mutiny.
The
ratification of the Constitution may also have been the
product of a political error on the part of those who valued
limited government, namely, the republicans (also known as the
Anti-Federalists, a pernicious term as it only defines these
men in terms of that which they opposed, as if they had no
developed political philosophy of their own; on this point,
see Herbert Storing’s What
the Anti-Federalists Were For). As McDonald notes in States’
Rights and the Union, the
radical
republicans of 1776 were conspicuously absent: neither of the
Adamses was there, nor was John Hancock; none of the Lees
attended, nor did Patrick Henry or Thomas Jefferson or Thomas
Paine. (15)
Present,
however, were Robert Morris, and his political allies James
Wilson, Gouverneur Morris, John Rutledge, and "ardent
younger nationalists, including James Madison and Alexander
Hamilton." To make a long story short: the nationalists
had their way, and while in power, the Federalist party had
its way, for example, effectively nullifying the First
Amendment by enacting the Alien and Sedition Acts (read
them here and read about them
here), which made opposition political speech punishable
as a crime.
Did I forget to
mention that the very same Federalist party had argued against
the need for the Bill of Rights? "Trust us." One
hopes that most people can see where things are headed when a
politician asks for trust.
The Southern
states appear to have known the works of St. George Tucker
very well. For example, the declarations of secession issued
by South Carolina, Mississippi, Georgia and Texas, are
explicitly legalistic (the documents read like complaints for
breach of contract) and follow the arguments of Tucker, quoted
above, very closely.
Furthermore,
the messy jurisprudence of the Lincoln apologists plagues any
attempt to make sense of Reconstruction. Had the Southern
states actually left the union, such that they had to be
readmitted, or had the Southern states only attempted to leave
the union? As Hummel observes,
because
most Northerners agreed that the seceding states had not
legally left the Union, these states counted toward the total
for ratifying the [13th] Amendment. Only their
ratifications, coupled with those from the North, provided the
necessary three-fourths...The reconstructed governments
were...in the anomalous position of being recognized by the
President but not by Congress, of being legitimate for the
purpose of ratifying the Thirteenth Amendment but not for the
purpose of having representation within the national
government. (p 297, 299)
The Radical
Republicans in Congress treated the Southern states by whim.
They treated the freed slaves in the same way, unfortunately.
After the War Between the States,
Racial
prejudice was still quite prevalent throughout the North.
Although the legal status of northern blacks had been steadily
improving and Massachusetts in 1865 enacted the country’s
first ban on racial discrimination in public accomodations,
five other loyal states rejected proposals for black suffrage
soon after the fighting ceased. (Hummel 300)
Returning now
to the arguments advanced by Professor Owens, it must be noted
that Owens refers to the Southern secessionists as
"blackmailers:"
In
1833, the minority threatened secession over the tariff. The
majority gave in. In 1835, it threatened secession if Congress
did not prohibit discussions of slavery during its own
proceedings. The majority gave in and passed a "Gag
Rule." In 1850, the minority threatened secession unless
Congress forced the return of fugitive slaves without a prior
jury trial. The majority agreed to pass a Fugitive Slave Act.
In 1854 the minority threatened secession unless the Missouri
Compromise was repealed, opening Kansas to slavery. Again, the
majority acquiesced rather than see the Union smashed. But the
majority could only go so far in permitting minority blackmail
to override the constitutional will of the majority.
Glaringly, he
neglects to mention northern threats of secession, for
example, in 1803 over the Louisiana Purchase (the allegedly
tolerant Northern Federalists did not want Spaniards, i.e.
Roman Catholics, to alter the ethnic makeup of America), in
1809 over the embargo, and in 1814 at the Hartford
Convention over the War of 1812 (see Tom DiLorenzo’s
chapter "Yankee Confederates" in Secession, State
and Liberty). Additionally, as in Owens’ previous claim
that the natural right of revolution is, "in
practice," replaced by elections, Owens again (I think,
unwittingly) argues here for a view of government which must
lead to majoritarian tyranny. In other words, I don’t think
that Owens actually favors majoritarian tyranny, but that is
where this view logically leads.
Special Bonus
Discussion: Ed Meese
Notice that
Meese was not mentioned in the opening paragraph. Think of
this as bonus coverage, as when the TV networks interrupt
their daytime programming to show presidents testifying about
sexual encounters with their young female employees.
In all
seriousness, after discussing the views of William Rawle,
nominated by George Washington to serve as the first Attorney
General of the United States, one should consider a Claremont
Institute speech delivered by Ed Meese, attorney general
under Ronald Reagan. You can see where this is going:
Lincoln,
as we know, serves as the sixteenth President of the United
States. As we look back today, that’s a point at which our
nation had accomplished one-third of its history, as it
pertains to where we are today. And, under his leadership, and
largely because of it, the United States completed the
implementation of the promise that was contained in the
Declaration of Independence, that all men are created equal,
and fulfilled the potential of the Constitution, which is the
commitment to equality under the law.
Meese might be
interested to learn that the CSA enjoyed the support of three
former American presidents, John Tyler, Franklin Pierce and
James Buchanan. The notion of secession, furthermore, was also
endorsed by Thomas Jefferson and John Quincy Adams. That’s
five – five! – former presidents who supported the right
of secession. Hopefully, the historical debate begins to
resemble a close call for those otherwise inclined to view
secessionists as nut cases.
Tyler, the
tenth president, of "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" fame,
was a member of the Confederate House of Representatives (as
noted on the White House site). Secretary of War William
Seward, meanwhile, is reported by Hummel to have taken steps
to arrest former President Franklin Pierce (the 14th
president) because of Pierce’s criticism of Abe Lincoln for
provoking the war and for violating the constitution in waging
the war. James Buchanan, the 15th president, who
peacefully allowed the Confederates to seize federal
properties in the South – for which the CSA had offered to
compensate the USA – blamed the Republicans for provoking
the South to fight the war.
Charles Kesler
Perhaps most
problematic of all the Claremont works on Lincoln which I have
read is "Getting
Right with Lincoln" by Charles Kesler (you may see it
as a close contest between Kesler and Owens).
On the bright
side, Kesler understands libertarian views of the South where
Virginia Postrel and David Boaz do not: "Libertarians
think [Lincoln] right about slavery but wrong about secession
and war policy."
Sadly, it is
mostly down hill from there. First, Kesler writes:
Yes,
Lincoln and the Republicans did stand for a high tariff...to
protect American workingmen and foster American manufacturing.
This sounds today like bad economic policy, but Alexander
Hamilton, who originally recommended it in the 1780s, knew his
Adam Smith quite well and realized that all economics is
political economy.
What Kesler
ignores is that this "protection" to Northern
manufacturing interests was paid by Southerners, since the
South had to pay higher prices for imported goods (or buy
inferior Northern goods) as a result of the tariff. Also,
Kesler is a relativist with respect to economics. He may
appreciate "the higher law," but he does not appear
to appreciate economic law, otherwise the claim that
protectionism merely "sounds today like bad economic
policy" is untenable. Worse, Kesler’s claim that
"all economics is political economy" perpetuates the
myth that government can somehow undo the laws of economics by
fiat legislation. This is, of course, nonsense. The government
can no more repeal the laws of supply and demand than it can
repeal the law of gravity.
Next, Kesler
argues that
Lincoln
shattered the old Union, the indictment runs, because he
denied the constitutional right of the Southern states to
secede. But there never was such a right.
As James
Ostrowski points out (pp 166-67), the 9th and 10th
Amendments must be interpreted to include the right to secede.
The 9th Amendment provides that "The
enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not
be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the
people." The idea for the 9th Amendment
stemmed from the Federalists, who contended that the Bill of
Rights was unnecessary since the federal government could only
have those powers explicitly granted to it in the
Constitution. The 9th Amendment captures this
notion, namely, the fact that some rights are specifically
mentioned in the Constitution does not mean that those are the
only rights possessed by the citizens.
The 10th
Amendment, meanwhile, provides that "The powers not
delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor
prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States
respectively, or to the people." Again, the 10th
Amendment reinforces the fact that the federal government was
created by the pieces of paper called the Constitution, and
that it has no other powers besides those given to it by the
Constitution. Logically, in the federal system, somebody else
has those powers, either the states or the people.
The alternative
view to reading these Amendments (which, again, are part of
the Bill of Rights) to mean what they say by their plain
language is the view taught by the Leftists who control
American law schools today – the wholly implausible view
that the 9th Amendment "does not mean
anything" and the 10th Amendment does not mean
anything "because it is a tautology." They’re just
extra words to fill up some space!
Kesler,
however, not only dismisses the 9th and 10th
Amendments, but contends that
When
Jefferson got the ball rolling with some loose language about
"nullification" in the Kentucky Resolutions he
penned in 1798, he was talking about a natural right of each
state to judge the terms of the social compact for itself, and
then by rallying its fellow states, by revolutionary means (if
necessary) to recover the American people’s freedom from
tyrannical government, even as the revolution of 1776 had
done.
First, it does
violence to Jefferson’s thought and writing to dismiss the
Kentucky Resolutions as merely "loose language."
Like the drafters of the constitution’s 9th and
10th Amendments, was Jefferson was just blathering
without purpose in the Kentucky Resolutions?
In a word, no.
The Kentucky Resolutions were drafted in response to the
federal government’s nullification of the First Amendment
via the Alien and Sedition Acts (read
the Kentucky Resolutions here), a mere 9 years after the
ratification of the Constitution. They should not be treated
lightly. Second, what does Kesler mean by a state
"rallying its fellow states, by revolutionary
means," if not some sort of military action? If anything,
such a description of the Kentucky Resolutions is precisely
the Southern case for secession and independence.
Finally, Kesler
claims that "the slave states did not, because they could
not, secede in the name of human liberty." If Kesler is
correct, then the colonies could not secede in the name of
human liberty (Thomas
G. West’s weak arguments to the contrary
notwithstanding) because they were slave-holding colonies.
Here, Kesler and Masugi do not agree with each other (not that
they are required to do so – no groupthink, please – but
Masugi nicely refutes Kesler), since Masugi writes in
"Flunking out of the Limbaugh" that "One cannot
advocate limited government without renouncing the unlimited
government of slavery." Since the colonies and the North
did not renounce slavery until 1863, the only conclusion can
be that the colonies and the North did not advocate limited
government until 1863...at which time, the Northern states
appear to have been advocating unlimited government.
Also, Kesler
ignores the fact that the Southern states did not all secede
at one time and for the same causes, as well as the fact that
the causes of secession are not necessarily the same as the
causes of the war. Although South Carolina, Alabama,
Mississippi, and Texas might be charged with having seceded
over slavery, "as Lincoln took the oath of office, the
Union still contained eight slave states, more than had
left." (Hummel, 137) The other states seceded over the
issue of whether the union was voluntary or forced. After
Lincoln called for troops to invade the four states which had
seceded, Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, and Arkansas
seceded – over the issue of the voluntary nature of the
American union.
Had Lincoln not
arrested 31 Maryland legislators, the mayor of Baltimore (the
nation’s 3rd-largest city at the time), a
Maryland Congressman, as well as numerous publishers and
editors, Maryland might very well also have seceded. For good
measure, Lincoln had Union troops arrest secessionists who
tried to vote in the election of 1861. He also gave three-day
furloughs to Union troops so that they could return to
Maryland to vote.
In another
border state, Kentucky, troops also interfered with elections;
they also broke up the Democratic convention at bayonet point.
The war did not
begin until Lincoln’s call for troops – making it
abundantly clear that even if the first four states to secede
seceded over slavery (say that out loud four times quickly),
the war itself was fought over the voluntary nature of the
union.
Perhaps worst
of all, Kesler contends a) that Lincoln "carefully sought
constitutional grounds for all his actions, and b) that
Lincoln did not increase the size of government (at least not
beyond the inherent tendency of governments to grow in war
time).
Contrary to
Kesler’s claims, noted Lincoln scholar Mark Neely writes in The
Last Best Hope of Earth: Abraham Lincoln and the Promise of
America that Lincoln’s actions, including the arrest
of 31 Maryland legislators, the mayor of Baltimore, and a U.S.
Congressman from Maryland, were taken "without much
agonizing over their constitutionality." (p 133) At the
very least, this puts the facts in dispute, such that Kesler
has the burden of proving his case for Lincoln’s alleged
constitutional scruples.
Additionally,
Jeffrey Rogers Hummel, in Chapter 13 of Emancipating
Slaves, Enslaving Free Men, makes a strong
demonstration of the fact that Lincoln’s actions ballooned
the government to a size from which it has never shrunk:
The
national government that emerged victorious from the conflict
dwarfed in power and size the minimal Jacksonian State that
had commenced the war. The number of civilians in federal
employ swelled almost fivefold. A distant administration that
had little contact with its citizens had been transformed into
an overbearing bureaucracy that intruded into daily life with
taxes, drafts, surveillance, subsidies, and regulations.
Central government spending had soared from less than 2
percent of the economy’s total output to well over 20
percent in 1865, approximately what the central government
spends today. It is hard to decide from which angle that
statistic is more astounding: that government spending rose
from such infinitesimal lows to today’s heights in four
years, or that today federal authorities regularly spend
during peacetime as much as they did during the country’s
most devastating war. (328)
Among other
evils, Lincoln’s war led to forced attendance at tax-funded
schools ("public schools"), destroyed the free
market in money through legal tender and national currency
(national banking) laws, and spawned activist governments at
the state and local levels. (On these points, see also Tom
DiLorenzo’s "Birth
of an Empire."
The Republican
governor of Lincoln’s adopted home state, Richard Yates of
Illinois, stated in 1865 that "The war has tended, more
than any other event in the history of the country to militate
against the Jeffersonian idea, that ‘the best government is
that which governs least.’" (Hummel 332)
Contrary to
Lincoln’s statements that the war involved "the
question whether your children and my children shall enjoy the
privileges we have enjoyed," Lincoln’s war drowned
American liberty in an ocean of blood. As Hummel relates,
George
Ticknor of Harvard could not help but marvel at the magnitude
of all these transformations. "The civil war of ‘61 has
made a great gulf between what happened before it in our
century and what has happened since, or what is likely to
happen hereafter," he mused. "It does not seem to me
as if I were living in the country in which I was born, or in
which I received whatever I got of political education and
principles." (333)
It did not seem
that way to Ticknor precisely because he was not living in the
same country as he inhabited in 1861. Americans living today
are certainly not living under the same government and in the
same country as were Americans in 1861. Where were the EPA,
HUD, OSHA and the IRS before the time of Lincoln? Who told Abe
Lincoln’s parents how well-done they had to cook their meat,
or whether they could smoke indoors? These matters cannot, of
course, simply be blamed on Lincoln, but Hummel strongly
argues that it was Lincoln, the great centralizer of American
government, who got the ball rolling.
Also, if
Lincoln was so concerned that future Americans continue to
enjoy the privileges of their ancestors, why did he seize
privately-owned muskets in the border states? One supposes
that if the First, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Ninth, and Tenth
Amendments were meaningless (and perhaps others as well) –
because secession was an "emergency" – then the
Second Amendment must have been meaningless as well.
Conclusion
Utilitarian
defenses of Lincoln – which argue that the end (preserve the
Union) justified the means (total war and disregard of the
rule of law) – suffer the flaw of all such utilitarian
theories, namely, they provide no means for selecting the
proper time-frame for evaluating the utility of the act in
question. Should Lincoln be judged on the consequences of the
war 10 years after the war, or 100 years after the war? How
about 200? And is Lincoln to be judged only on the war’s
effects on the United States, or on human beings in other
countries who might copy his example as well?
T.S. Eliot
wrote in 1949 that
The
real revolution in that country was not what is called the
Revolution, but is a consequence of the Civil War; after which
arose a plutocratic elite; after which the expansion and
material development of the country was accelerated; after
which was swollen that stream of mixed immigration, bringing
(or rather multiplying) the danger of development into a caste
system which has not yet been quite dispelled. For the
sociologist, the evidence from America is not yet ripe.
(quoted in Marshall DeRosa, The
Confederate Constitution of 1861: An Inquiry into American
Constitutionalism)
Today, 140
years after the war began, American legal scholars continue to
maintain that the union is "indivisible" and
"permanent," and to ridicule the right of
self-determination for the South, while they support worldwide
bombing to enforce the right of self-determination for Taiwan,
Bosnia, and Albania (East Timor...well, they’re apparently
stuck with Indonesia).
Lincoln’s
legacy is the despotism of the present days. As Ludwig von
Mises writes in Theory
and History,
The
foremost aim of despotic government is to prevent any
innovations that could endanger its own supremacy. Its very
nature pushes it toward extreme conservatism, the tendency to
retain what is, no matter how desirable for the welfare of the
people a change might be. It is opposed to new ideas and to
any spontaneity on the part of the subjects. (p 372)
Despite the
tomes written about Lincoln as the saviour of human freedom,
consider the fruits of Lincoln’s war:
-
China has
cited Lincoln’s war as a justification for its desire to
forcibly reunite Taiwan to the mainland (Chinese premier
Zhu Rongii at a news
conference with President Clinton, April 8, 1999;
cited in When
in the Course of Human Events 109)
-
President
Clinton cited Lincoln’s war as a justification for the
Russian war on Chechnya and called Boris Yeltsin "Russia’s
Abraham Lincoln."
At some point,
those who praise Lincoln’s war ought to be given pause by
the arguments of their fellow Lincoln cheerleaders in Beijing
and Moscow.
Two final
criticisms of the Claremont Institute’s approach to Lincoln
and the U.S. Constitution, then, are in order.
First, the
Claremont’s writers exhibit a tendency to treat the
Constitution of 1789 as something akin to sacred scripture,
and its adoption as the seeming pinnacle of human existence.
This is problematic, to say the least. If Ken Masugi is
serious about God and "the higher law," then Easter
is a far greater event than the signing of a mere piece of
government paperwork. As Joseph
Sobran remarks,
As
Jaffa tells it, the modestly educated Lincoln somehow thought
in perfect harmony with the deepest political thinkers in
world history – and, moreover, governed with the wisdom of a
philosopher-king. He was not only philosophically right but
virtually flawless in the practical business of applying his
principles to ruling an unruly country in the midst of an
enormous war. Furthermore, he managed not only to win the war
and save the Union, but to induce "a new birth of
freedom" in the process! With this record of
accomplishment, you almost wonder why Lincoln stopped short of
rising from the dead.
So how about a
celebration of the life of Christ? Alas, that would be
politically incorrect in this anti-Christian age.
Second, the
Claremont writers are too willing to condone the deaths of
620,000 Americans, and the destruction of property and lives
– including rapes, starvation, and dislocation of families
– that went along with the war and its aftermath. The
devastation of the South parallels the devastation of World
War I and World War II. Southern losses were roughly equal to
the horrific French losses in World War I, and to the German
and Russian losses in World War II.
As Lysander
Spooner writes,
Their
pretenses that they have "Saved the Country," and
"Preserved our Glorious Union," are frauds like all
the rest of their pretenses. By them they mean simply that
they have subjugated, and maintained their power over, an
unwilling people. This they call "Saving the
Country"; as if an enslaved and subjugated people – or
as if any people kept in subjection by the sword (as it is
intended that all of us shall be hereafter) – could be said
to have any country. This, too, they call "Preserving our
Glorious Union"; as if there could be said to be any
Union, glorious or inglorious, that was not voluntary. Or as
if there could be said to be any union between masters and
slaves; between those who conquer, and those who are
subjugated.
All
these cries of having "abolished slavery," of having
"saved the country," of having "preserved the
union," of establishing "a government of
consent," and of "maintaining the national
honor," are all gross, shameless, transparent cheats –
so transparent that they ought to deceive no one – when
uttered as justifications for the war, or for the government
that has suceeded the war, or for now compelling the people to
pay the cost of the war, or for compelling anybody to support
a government that he does not want.
The
lesson taught by all these facts is this: As long as mankind
continue to pay "national debts," so-called – that
is, so long as they are such dupes and cowards as to pay for
being cheated, plundered, enslaved, and murdered – so long
there will be enough to lend the money for those purposes; and
with that money a plenty of tools, called soldiers, can be
hired to keep them in subjection. But when they refuse any
longer to pay for being thus cheated, plundered, enslaved, and
murdered, they will cease to have cheats, and usurpers, and
robbers, and murderers and blood-money loan-mongers for
masters.
If the truth
about Lincoln is unpleasant, so be it, for the truth is
the truth.
Perhaps the
Claremont Institute’s writers would agree with Garet Garrett
and myself that the United States is no longer a republic, but
an empire. Well, maybe they wouldn’t call it an empire, but
the Claremont’s writers appear to desire the restoration
of the republic. That being said, they are going about it
all wrong. I do not contend that American liberty cannot be
restored; it can. I contend, however, that creating secular
gods like Abraham Lincoln is the wrong way to do it.
In closing,
allow me to reiterate that I am descended from a member of the
83rd Regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers (the Erie
Regiment). The 83rd Pennsylvania, under the
leadership of Col. Strong Vincent (my grandmother was in the
first graduating class at the local high school which bears
his name) held Little Round Top at Gettysburg. So don’t
blather to me about honoring those who fought.
And don’t
blather that I "reject a higher law," or that I’m
a racist, or that I am "still fighting the war," or
that I "defend slavery," or any other such nonsense.
I am a
practicing Roman Catholic, and a Thomist; I very much believe
in "higher law." I am not a racist, nor do I approve
of racism or any other such stupidity. I greatly admire
Stonewall Jackson and Robert E. Lee, but I also admire Thomas
Sowell, Walter
Williams, Booker
T. Washington, Jackie
Robinson (whose private accomplishments and perseverence
did more to improve American race relations than any
government program), Richard
Wright, John
Coltrane, Thelonious
Monk, Charlie
Parker, Sam
Jethroe, Hank
Aaron, Dave Winfield, Willie Randolph, Satchell Paige and
Willie Mays (who wore his hat loosely so that it would fly off
easily to excite the crowds), James Earl Jones and Morgan
Freeman (this list is not intended to be comprehensive), and
the men of the 54th Massachusetts regiment of the
Union Army; I admire these men for their talents, courage, and
accomplishments.
In high school,
I volunteered as a tutor at the Booker T. Washington Center.
My family includes blacks, Chinese, and Filipinos. I do not
say this because such facts matter to me in any sense beyond
the normal way in which family matters to one; I merely state
these facts to pre-empt the sort of foolishness which I expect
to greet this attempt at a reasoned discussion of the legacy
of Abraham Lincoln (not that I expect the Claremont writers to
reply by ad hominem attacks; it is simply that I will not be
surprised if someone resorts to smearing my name in lieu of
arguing the merits of the cases for and against Lincoln
according to history, philosophy and law). Also, the Civil War
ended at Appomatox Courthouse. That being said, I am yet
engaged in a struggle, namely, the struggle to restore Western
civilization and American liberty to something not resembling
a cess pool. Finally, as if there could be any question,
slavery is a moral evil. The ownership of another human being
is the ultimate denial of that liberty to which all human
beings are entitled by virtue of their God-given human nature.
Ultimately,
there are answers to the question of why Abraham Lincoln has
been deified. There appears to be a natural human tendency to
lionize public figures who die unexpectedly, whether by
criminal endeavor (Lincoln and JFK) or by accident (Princess
Diana). But there is more to the deification of Abraham
Lincoln. Where Lincoln is concerned, godhood is the only
alternative to regarding him as a dictator, and it is a way to
manipulate the masses for present political gain.
Perhaps the
most perceptive account of the need to deify murdering
politicians is provided in the outstanding novel by Robert
Graves, I,
Claudius. (It is No. 14 on the Modern
Library Top 100 books of the 20th century).
Near the end of the book, Claudius meets with his grandmother,
Livia. Throughout the novel, Claudius sees her as a
calculating murderer. He suspects that she has murdered a
great many friends and relatives, including Claudius’ own
father. Their meeting, in part, goes as follows:
"Claudius,
let me explain. I quite agree about the ignorant rabble.
It’s not so much my fame on earth that I’m thinking about
as the position I am to occupy in Heaven. I have done many
impious things – no great ruler can do otherwise. I have put
the good of the Empire before all human considerations. To
keep the Empire free from factions I have had to commit many
crimes. Augustus did his best to wreck the Empire by his
ridiculous favouritism: Marcellus against Agrippa, Gaius
against Tiberius. Who saved Rome from renewed Civil War? I
did. The unpleasant and difficult task of removing Marcellus
and Gaius [Caligula] fell on me. Yes, don’t pretend you
haven’t ever suspected me of poisoning them. And what is the
proper reward for a ruler who commits such crimes for the good
of his subjects? The proper reward, obviously, is to be
deified. Do you believe that the souls of criminals are
eternally tormented?"
"I
have always been taught to believe that they are."
"But
the Immortal Gods are free from any fear of punishment,
however many crimes they commit?"
"Well,
Jove deposed his father and killed one of his grandsons and
incestuously married his sister, and...yes, I agree....They
none of them have a good moral reputation. And certainly the
Judges of the Mortal Dead have no jurisdiction over
them."
"Exactly.
You see now why it’s all-important for me to become a
Goddess. And this, if you must know, is the reason why I
tolerate Caligula. He has sworn that if I keep his secret he
will make a Goddess of me as soon as he’s Emperor. And I
want you to swear that you’ll do all in your power to see
that I become a Goddess as soon as possible, because – oh,
don’t you see? – until he makes me a Goddess I’ll be in
Hell, suffering the most frightful torments, the most
exquisite ineluctable torments." (pp 337-39)
Think of
Lincoln as Livia. He did not ask for himself to be deified
like Livia, but the Radical Republicans who controlled the
North and South after the war had a tremendous stake in
painting Lincoln as a hero. If Lincoln was a demon, then they
themselves were demons, and that simply could not be
conceived. The victors, after all, write the history.
Additionally,
there are those unscrupulous persons (and perhaps some who are
well-intentioned; one knows where good intentions lead,
however) who wish to short-circuit rational thought and play
on the emotions. Such persons are known in political
philosophy as demagogues. Why short-circuit rational thought?
It makes it easier to manipulate the unthinking masses and get
your way.
Demagogues need
Lincoln to justify the state. If Lincoln and FDR go down to
ignominy like Lenin and Stalin, the governing class will need
to work that much harder to justify everything it does. Very
likely the Claremont Institute seeks not to create illusions
about Lincoln, but merely to cure the disillusionment of
Americans. If that is the Claremont Institute’s task,
however, they are going about it the wrong way. Citizenship is
not hero worship, and so hero worship cannot be the proper
cure for apathy in a free republic.
It is better to
inculcate the proper virtues of free citizens – such as
honesty, industry and thrift, to name but a few – rather
than to acquiesce in the transformation of political life into
something akin to rooting for sports teams. The reason for
this is that such a grounding in the virtues of free citizens
addresses the cause of the disease, namely, a slavish
mentality, rather than attacking the symptoms, namely, apathy.
Similarly, if
the Claremont Institute wishes to study statesmanship, there
are American statesmen worthy of study who are not named
Lincoln, such as John
C. Breckinridge, Patrick Henry, Sam Adams, Benjamin
Franklin, Thomas Paine, Thomas Jefferson, and Martin van
Buren.
Some Frenchmen
revere Napoleon as a saint. Some Americans, it seems, can do
no less for Lincoln.
May 11, 2001
Mr. Dieteman
[send him mail] is
an attorney in Erie, Pennsylvania, and a PhD candidate in
philosophy at The Catholic University of America.
© 2001 David
Dieteman |
HOME >>
