|
The
Statesman
"Every
great statesman must necessarily fail," wrote Andrew Lytle in a
moving tribute to John C. Calhoun. The reason: the statesman is
driven by high ideals like freedom, self-government, justice, and
constitutionalism, which will never be perfectly realized. Yet even
in failure, the statesman preserves civilization, and keeps tyranny
at bay.
Adds
Lytle, "only the politician succeeds." That's because the politician
sees his job as serving interest groups and constituents, an easy
task. Of course, dishing out private property through pressure-group
politics will doom us in the long run. That's why we need an educated
people who will, in turn, give us fewer politicians and more statesmen.
One
school of thought Public Choice says that statesmen can't exist
in a democracy. Politics consists of vote trading, logrolling, rent
seeking, and legislated looting. Politicians buy and sell favors,
lobbyists act as middlemen, and the public gets fleeced. It can
be no other way, say these theorists.
A
gloomy picture. And looking at D.C., the Public Choice School would
appear to be on target. How else can we account for the Republican
leadership's betrayal? These birds view their "principles" as just
a rhetorical cover for their power grabs. They build their careers
by promising to torch Washington, then panic at the smell of smoke.
But
there are several problems with Public Choice theory in this context.
Its determinism can't explain the thirst for justice that sometimes
trumps financial self-interest among the voters, nor can it account
for the occasional exception to the rule of politicians.
Consider,
for example, the career of Ron Paul, who served in the House of
Representatives for four terms in the 1970s and 1980s. He is living
proof that statesmen are not entirely extinct.
A
statesman must be implacable in his commitment to principle. Thus
Ron Paul never sold out, not once. He holds the all-time record
from the National Taxpayers Union for voting against nearly all
spending. Never did he vote for a tax increase, a regulatory increase,
foreign aid, foreign wars, military pork, or domestic pork, not
even for his own district.
The
behind-the-scenes drama of his years in office is extraordinary.
The pressures to go along to get along were immense. It took great
courage to say no to the entire Washington culture. The media attacked
him. The lobbyists said he was foolish to look a gift horse in the
mouth. Most of his colleagues pooh-poohed his ideals.
Indeed,
his principles brought him into conflict with his own party. Vote
for this Reagan debt increase, the Republican leadership would tell
him, and next year, spending will go down. He refused to go along,
and of course spending always went up, along with the debt. President
Reagan would personally put the squeeze on him for some IMF or imperialist
boondoggle. Nothing doing, he would politely answer.
Ron
Paul was more than a "Dr. No," however, as important as that is.
He also worked hard to bring accountability to the Federal Reserve
and the tax police. He called for a gold standard and introduced
legislation to bring it about. Moreover, he was not difficult to
please. He would support anything that shrunk the government, no
matter how incrementally, and he was glad to work with anyone on
anything that would slow the government's growth.
In
Washington, there came to be grudging respect for him. Inebriated
colleagues would confide how much they wished they could vote as
he did. And outside the beltway, Ron Paul became a folk hero. Most
of his constituents loved him (pork is overrated as a reelection
device, since it is inevitably a special-interest payoff) and he
won a national and international following. For him as for John
Randolph of Roanoke in the 19th century office was an opportunity
not to make corrupt deals, but to educate the people in the glories
and responsibilities of freedom.
What
especially distinguishes Dr. Paul today is his broad vision. With
every decision, he would ask: how does this affect the place of
government in society? He tirelessly reminds audiences that this
is the real issue. It's why he never got sidetracked by Washington
gimmickry like the line-item veto or the balanced-budget amendment.
Dr.
Paul also understands that it's not enough to swear fealty to political
principle if you don't understand economics. Though a practicing
physician, he was driven to study economics when Richard Nixon abolished
the remnants of the gold standard, and imposed wage and price controls.
Although he had started reading Mises in medical school, Dr. Paul
began to read everything he could get his hands on, becoming one
of the most eloquent exponents of the Austrian School.
It
was the Austrian School, in fact, that led him to public life. And
he knows the School's major thinkers so well Mises, Hayek, Hazlitt,
Rothbard that their voices have become his political conscience,
far overriding any desire for short-term political gain. Like his
intellectual heroes, Dr. Paul is intransigent in his belief that
only the truth can make us free.
As
Dr. Paul would be the first to say, the statesman is not born but
made by a great body of ideas, transmitted in the classroom and
in public affairs. That's why he has so strongly supported the Mises
Institute from its founding, and served as our Distinguished Counselor
for 14 years.
Yes,
government grew while he was in office. He "failed," as Lytle would
say he must. But he did something much more important than attaching
his name to a sheaf of state-enhancing laws: he became a standard-bearer
for liberty when the whole world seemed to be lurching towards socialism,
national or international.
There
are politicians the media like to trumpet as principled: New Gingrich,
for example, although he never lived up to their vilification. And
now the entire leadership is perspiring in their Oxford suits at
the possibility that Ron Paul is going back to Congress.
Setting
aside his medical practice, Ron Paul is running for a House seat
in the 14th district of Texas, and despite the opposition of the
entire Republican establishment, he won the primary handily. The
people recognize an eloquent public voice for the Austrian School,
and a statesman even Mises could respect.
|