Down
With the Presidency
by
Llewellyn H. Rockwell, Jr.
The modern
institution of the presidency is the primary political evil Americans
face, and the cause of nearly all our woes. It squanders the national
wealth and starts unjust wars against foreign peoples that have
never done us any harm. It wrecks our families, tramples on our
rights, invades our communities, and spies on our bank accounts.
It skews the culture toward decadence and trash. It tells lie after
lie. Teachers used to tell school kids that anyone can be president.
This is like saying anyone can go to Hell. It's not an inspiration;
it's a threat.
The presidency
by which I mean the executive State is the sum total
of American tyranny. The other branches of government, including
the presidentially appointed Supreme Court, are mere adjuncts. The
presidency insists on complete devotion and humble submission to
its dictates, even while it steals the products of our labor and
drives us into economic ruin. It centralizes all power unto itself,
and crowds out all competing centers of power in society, including
the church, the family, business, charity, and the community. I'll
go further. The US presidency is the world's leading evil. It is
the chief mischief-maker in every part of the globe, the leading
wrecker of nations, the usurer behind Third-World debt, the bailer-out
of corrupt governments, the hand in many dictatorial gloves, the
sponsor and sustainer of the New World Order, of wars, interstate
and civil, of famine and disease. To see the evils caused by the
presidency, look no further than Iraq or Serbia, where the lives
of innocents were snuffed out in pointless wars, where bombing was
designed to destroy civilian infrastructure and cause disease, and
where women, children, and the aged have been denied essential food
and medicine because of a cruel embargo. Look at the human toll
taken by the presidency, from Dresden and Hiroshima to Waco and
Ruby Ridge, and you see a prime practitioner of murder by government.
Today, the
president is called the leader of the world's only superpower, the
"world's indispensable nation," which is reason enough
to have him deposed. A world with any superpower at all is a world
where no freedoms are safe. But by invoking this title, the presidency
attempts to keep our attention focused on foreign affairs. It is
a diversionary tactic designed to keep us from noticing the oppressive
rule it imposes right here in the United States.
As the presidency
assumes ever more power unto itself, it becomes less and less accountable
and more and more tyrannical. These days, when we say the federal
government, what we really mean is the presidency. When we say,
national priorities, we really mean what the presidency wants. When
we say national culture, we mean what the presidency funds and imposes.
The presidency
is presumed to be the embodiment of Rousseau's general will, with
far more power than any monarch or head of state in pre-modern societies.
The US presidency is the apex of the world's biggest and most powerful
government and of the most expansive empire in world history. As
such, the presidency represents the opposite of freedom. It is what
stands between us and our goal of restoring our ancient rights.
And let me
be clear: I'm not talking about any particular inhabitant of the
White House. I'm talking about the institution itself, and the millions
of unelected, unaccountable bureaucrats who are its acolytes. Look
through the US government manual, which breaks down the federal
establishment into its three branches. What you actually see is
the presidential trunk, its Supreme Court stick, and its Congressional
twig. Practically everything we think of as federal save
the Library of Congress operates under the aegis of the
executive.
This is why
the governing elites and especially the foreign policy elites
are so intent on maintaining public respect for the office,
and why they seek to give it the aura of holiness. For example,
after Watergate, they briefly panicked and worried that they had
gone too far. They might have discredited the democratic autocracy.
And to some extent they did. But the elites were not stupid; they
were careful to insist that the Watergate controversy was not about
the presidency as such, but only about Nixon the man. That's why
it became necessary to separate the two. How? By keeping the focus
on Nixon, making a devil out of him, and reveling in the details
of his personal life, his difficulties with his mother, his supposed
pathologies, etc.
Of course,
this didn't entirely work. Americans took from Watergate the lesson
that presidents will lie to you. This should be the first lesson
of any civics course, of course, and the first rule of thumb in
understanding the affairs of government. But notice that after Nixon
died, he too was elevated to godlike status. None other than Bill
Clinton served as high priest of the cult of president-worship on
that occasion. He did everything but sacrifice a white bull at the
temple of the White House.
The presidency
recovered most of its sacramental character during the Reagan years.
How wonderful, for the sake of our liberties, that Clinton has revived
the great American tradition of scorning tyrants. In some ways,
he is the best president a freedom lover can hope for. Of course,
someday, Clinton too will ascend to the clouds, and enter the pantheon
of the great leaders of the free world.
The libraries
are filled with shelf after shelf of treatises on the American presidency.
Save yourself some time, and don't bother with them. Virtually all
tell the same hagiographic story. Whether written by liberals or
conservatives, they serve up the identical Whiggish pap: the history
of the presidency is the story of a great and glorious institution.
It was opposed early on, and viciously so, by the anti-federalists,
and later, even more viciously, by Southern Confederates. But it
has been heroically championed by every respectable person since
the beginning of the republic.
The office
of the presidency, the conventional wisdom continues, has changed
not at all in substance, but has grown in stature, responsibility,
and importance, to fulfill its unique mission on earth. As the duties
of the office have grown, so has the greatness of the men who inhabit
it. Each stands on the shoulders of his forerunners, and, inspired
by their vision and decisiveness, goes on to make his own contribution
to the ever-expanding magisterium of presidential laws, executive
orders, and national security findings.
When there
is a low ebb in the accumulation of power, it is seen as the fault
of the individual and not the office. Thus the so-called postage-stamp
presidents between Lincoln and Wilson are to be faulted for not
following the glorious example set by Abe. They had a vast reservoir
of power, but were mysteriously reluctant to use it. Fortunately
that situation was resolved, by Wilson especially, and we moved
onward and upward into the light of the present day. And every one
of these books ends with the same conclusion: the US presidency
has served us well.
The hagiographers
do admit one failing of the American presidency. It is almost too
big an office for one man, and too much a burden to bear. The American
people have come to expect too much from the president. We are unrealistic
to think that one man can do it all. But that's all the more reason
to respect and worship the man who agrees to take it on, and why
all enlightened people must cut him some slack.
The analogy
that comes to mind is the official history of the popes. In its
infancy, the papacy was less formal, but its power and position
were never in question. As the years went on and doctrine developed,
so too did the burdens of office. Each pope inherited the wisdom
of his forbears, and led the Church into fulfilling its mission
more effectively.
But let's be
clear about this. The church has never claimed that the papacy was
the product of human effort; its spiritual character is a consequence
of a divine, not human, act. And even the official history admits
the struggles with anti-popes and Borgia popes. Catholics believe
the institution was founded by Christ, and is guided by the Holy
Spirit, but the pope can only invoke that guidance in the most narrow
and rare circumstances. Otherwise, he is all too fallible. And that
is why, although allegedly an absolute monarch, he is actually bound
by the rule of law.
The presidency
is seemingly bound by law, but in practice it can do just about
anything it pleases. It can order up troops anywhere in the world,
just as Clinton bragged in his acceptance speech at the Democratic
convention. It can plow up a religious community in Texas and bury
its members because they got on somebody's nerves at the Justice
Department. It can tap our phones, read our mail, watch our bank
accounts, and tell us what we can and cannot eat, drink, and smoke.
The presidency
can break up businesses, shut down airlines, void drilling leases,
bribe foreign heads of state or arrest them and try them in kangaroo
courts, nationalize land, engage in germ warfare, firebomb crops
in Colombia, overthrow any government anywhere, erect tariffs, round
up and discredit any public or private assembly it chooses, grab
our guns, tax our incomes and our inheritances, steal our land,
centrally plan the national and world economy, and impose embargoes
on anything anytime. No prince or pope ever had this ability.
But leave all
that aside and consider this nightmare. The presidency has the power
to bring about a nuclear holocaust with the push of a button. On
his own initiative, the president can destroy the human race. One
man can wipe out life on earth. Talk about playing God. This is
a grotesque evil. And the White House claims it is not a tyranny?
If the power to destroy the entire world isn't tyrannical, I don't
know what is. Why do we put up with this? Why do we allow it? Why
isn't this power immediately stripped from him?
What prevents
fundamental challenge to this monstrous power is precisely the quasi-religious
trappings of the presidency, which we again had to suffer through
last January. One man who saw the religious significance of the
presidency, and denounced it in 1973, was surprisingly enough
Michael Novak. His study, Choosing
Our King: Powerful Symbols in Presidential Politics, is
one of the few dissenting books on the subject. It was reissued
last year as not surprisingly Choosing Our Presidents:
Symbols of Political Leadership, with a new introduction repudiating
the best parts of the book.
Of course,
none of the conventional bilge accords with reality. The US president
is the worst outgrowth of a badly flawed Constitution, imposed in
a sort of coup against the Articles of Confederation. Even from
the beginning, the presidency was accorded too much power. Indeed,
an honest history would have to admit that the presidency has always
been an instrument of oppression, from the Whisky Rebellion to the
War on Tobacco.
The presidency
has systematically stolen the liberty won through the secession
from Britain. From Jackson and Lincoln to McKinley and Roosevelt
Junior, from Wilson and FDR to Truman and Kennedy, from Nixon and
Reagan to Bush and Clinton, it has been the means by which our rights
to liberty, property, and self-government have been suppressed.
I can count
on one hand the actions of presidents that actually favored the
true American cause, meaning liberty. The overwhelming history of
the presidency is a tale of overthrown rights and liberties, and
the erection of despotism in their stead.
Each president
has tended to be worse than the last, especially in this century.
Lately, in terms of the powers they assumed and the dictates they
imposed, Kennedy was worse than Eisenhower, Johnson was worse than
Kennedy, Nixon was worse than Johnson, Carter was worse than Nixon,
and Reagan who doubled the national budget and permanently
entrenched the warfare State was worse than Carter. The
same is true of Bush and Clinton. Every budget is bigger and the
powers exercised more egregious. Each new brutal action breaks another
taboo and establishes a new precedent that gives the next occupant
of the White House more leeway.
Looking back
through American history, we can see the few exceptions to this
rule. Washington wrote an eloquent farewell address, laying out
the proper American trade and foreign policy. Jefferson's revolution
of 1800 was a great thing. But was it really a freer country after
his term than before? That's a tough case to make. Andrew Jackson
abolished the central bank, but his real legacy was democratic centralism
and weakened states' rights.
Andrew Johnson
loosened the military dictatorship fastened on the South after it
was conquered. But it is not hard to make the country freer when
it had become totalitarian under the previous president's rule.
Of course, Lincoln's bloody autocracy survives as the model of presidential
leadership.
James Buchanan
made a great statement on behalf of the right of revolution. Grant
restored the gold standard. Harding denounced US imperialism in
Haiti. But overall, my favorite president is William Henry Harrison.
He keeled over shortly after his inauguration.
There have
been four huge surveys taken of historians' views on the presidents:
in 1948, in 1962, in 1970, and in 1983. Historians were asked to
rank presidents as Great, Near Great, Average, Below Average, and
Failure. In every case, number one is Lincoln, the mass murderer
and military dictator who is the real father of the present nation.
His term was a model of every despot's dream: spending money without
Congressional approval, declaring martial law, arbitrarily arresting
thousands and holding them without trial, suppressing free speech
and the free press, handing out lucrative war contracts to his cronies,
raising taxes, inflating the currency, and killing hundreds of thousands
for the crime of desiring self-government. These are just the sort
of actions historians love.
The number-two
winner in these competitions is FDR. Moreover, Wilson and Jackson
are always in the top five. The bottom two in every case are Grant
and Harding. None bothered to rate William Henry Harrison.
What does greatness
in the presidency mean? It means waging war, crushing liberties,
imposing socialism, issuing dictates, browbeating and ignoring Congress,
appointing despotic judges, expanding the domestic and global empire,
and generally trying his best to be an all-round enemy of freedom.
It means saying with Lincoln, "I have a right to take any measure
which may best subdue the enemy."
The key to
winning the respect of historians is to do these things. All aspirants
to this vile office know this. It's what they seek. They long for
crisis and power, to be bullies in the pulpit, to be the dictators
they are in their hearts. They want, at all costs, to avoid the
fate of being another "postage-stamp president." Madison
said no man with power deserves to be trusted. Neither should we
trust any man who seeks the power that the presidency offers.
Accordingly,
it is all well and good that conservatives have worked to discredit
the current occupant of the White House. Call him a cheat and a
double-dealer if you want. Call him a tyrant too. But we must go
further. The answer to restoring republican freedom has nothing
to do with replacing Clinton with Lott or Kemp or Forbes or Buchanan.
The structure of the presidency, and the religious aura that surrounds
it, must be destroyed. The man is merely a passing occupant of the
Holy Chair of St. Abraham. It is the chair itself that must be reduced
to kindling.
It was never
the intention of the majority of framers to create the mess we have,
of course. After the war for independence, the Articles of Confederation
had no chief executive. Its decisions were made by a five-member
Confederation. The Confederation had no power to tax. All its decisions
required the agreement of 9 of the 13 states. That is the way it
should be.
Most of the
delegates to the unfortunate Philadelphia convention hated executive
power. They had severely restricted the governors of their states
after their bitter experience with the colonial governors. The new
governors had no veto, and no power over the legislatures. Forrest
McDonald reports that one-quarter of the delegates to the convention
wanted a plural executive, based loosely on the Articles model.
But those who planned the convention including Morris, Washington,
and Hamilton wanted a single, strong executive, and they
out-maneuvered the various strains of anti-federalists.
But listen
to how they did it. The people of the several states and their representatives
were suspicious that Hamilton wanted to create a monarchy. Now,
there's much mythology surrounding this point. It's not that the
anti-federalists and the popular will opposed some guy strutting
around in a crown. It was not monarchy as such they opposed, but
the power the king exercised.
When they said
they didn't want a monarch, they meant they didn't want a King George,
they didn't want a tyrant, a despot, an autocrat, an executive.
It was the despotic end they feared, and not the royal means.
Indeed, formally,
the Constitution gives few powers to the president, and few duties,
most of them subject to approval by the legislature. The most important
provision regarding the presidency is that the holder of the office
can be impeached. It was to be a threat constantly hanging over
his head. It was, most framers thought, to be threatened often and
used against any president who dared gather more power unto himself
than the Constitution prescribed.
In one famous
outburst, Hamilton was forced to defend himself against the charge
that the new office of the presidency was a monarchy in disguise.
He explained the difference between a monarch and a president. But
as you listen to this, think about the present executive. Ask yourself
whether he resembles the thing Hamilton claimed to have created
in the office of the presidency, or whether we have the tyrant he
claimed to be repudiating.
Among other
points, Hamilton said in "Federalist 69":
The President
of the United States would be liable to be impeached, tried, and,
upon conviction . . . removed from office; and would afterwards
be liable to prosecution and punishment in the ordinary course
of law. The person of the king of Great Britain is sacred and
inviolable; there is no constitutional tribunal to which he is
amenable; no punishment to which he can be subjected. . . .
The President
will have only the occasional command of such part of the militia
of the nation as by legislative provision may be called into the
actual service of the Union. . . .
[The power]
of the British king extends to the declaring of war and to the
raising and regulating of fleets and armies all which,
by the Constitution under consideration, would appertain to the
legislature. . . .
The President
is to have power, with the advice and consent of the Senate, to
make treaties, provided two thirds of the senators present concur.
The king of Great Britain is the sole and absolute representative
of the nation in all foreign transactions. He can of his own accord
make treaties of peace, commerce, alliance, and of every other
description. . . .
The President
is to nominate and, with the advice and consent of the Senate,
to appoint ambassadors and other public ministers. . . . The king
of Great Britain is emphatically and truly styled the fountain
of honor. He not only appoints to all offices, but can create
offices. He can confer titles of nobility at pleasure . . . and
. . . [even] make denizens of aliens. . . .
[The President]
can prescribe no rules concerning the commerce or currency of
the nation; [the king] is in several respects the arbiter of commerce,
and in this capacity can establish markets and fairs, can regulate
weights and measures, can lay embargoes for a limited time, can
coin money. . . .
What answer
shall we give to those who would persuade us that things so unlike
resemble each other?
Well, we can
debate all day whether Hamilton was naïve about the imperial
office he was in fact creating, or whether he was a despicable liar.
But the fact remains that in his writings, despite his reputation
as a backer of the exalted presidency, he is by today's standards
a Congressional supremacist.
For that matter,
and in comparison with today's presidency, so was the British king.
Most historians
agree that there would have been no presidency apart from George
Washington, who was trusted by the people as a true gentleman, and
was presumed to understand what the American revolution was all
about. But he got off track by attempting to suppress the Whisky
Rebellion, although he at least acknowledged that his actions went
beyond the strict letter of the Constitution. But though the presidency
quickly spun out of control, at its antebellum worst it had nothing
in common with today's executive State.
In those days,
you could live your life and never even notice that the presidency
existed. You had no contact with it. Most people couldn't vote anyway,
thank goodness, and you didn't have to, but certain rights and freedoms
were guaranteed regardless of whoever took hold of this
by today's standards largely ceremonial position. The presidency
couldn't tax you, draft you, or regulate your trade. It couldn't
inflate your money, steal your kids, or impose itself on your community.
From the standpoint of the average American, the presidency was
almost invisible.
Listen to what
de Tocqueville observed in 1831:
The President
is . . . the executor of the laws; but he does not really cooperate
in making them, since the refusal of his assent does not prevent
their passage. He is not, therefore, a part of the sovereign power,
but only its agent. . . . The president is placed beside the legislature
like an inferior and dependent power. . . .
The office
of president of the United States is temporary, limited, and subordinate.
. . . [W]hen he is at the head of government, he has but little
power, little wealth, and little glory to share among his friends;
and his influence in the state is too small for the success or
the ruin of a faction to depend upon his elevation to power. .
. . The influence which the President exercises on public business
is no doubt feeble and indirect.
Thirty years
later, all this would be destroyed by Lincoln, who fundamentally
changed the nature of the government, as even his apologists admit.
He became a Caesar, in complete contradiction to most of the framers'
intentions. As Acton said, he abolished the primary contribution
that America had made to the world, the principle of federalism.
But that is an old story.
Less well known
is how Wilson revived Lincoln's dictatorial predilections, and added
to them an even more millennial cast. Moreover, this was his intention
before he was elected. In 1908, while still president of Princeton,
he wrote a small book entitled the President
of the United States. It was a paean to the imperial presidency,
and might as well have been the bible of every president who followed
him. He went beyond Lincoln, who praised the exercise of power.
Wilson longed for a Presidential Messiah to deliver the human race.
There can
be no successful government, without leadership or without the
intimate, almost instinctive, coordination of the organs of life
and action. . . . We have grown more and more from generation
to generation to look to the President as the unifying force in
our complex system. . . . To do so is not inconsistent with the
actual provisions of the Constitution; it is only inconsistent
with a very mechanical theory of its meaning and intention.
The president
must be a man who understands his own day and the needs of the
country, and who has the personality and the initiative to enforce
his views both upon the people and upon Congress.
. . . He
is not so much part of its organization as its vital link of connection
with the thinking nation . . . he is also the political leader
of the nation. . . . The nation as a whole has chosen him. . .
. Let him once win the admiration and confidence of the country,
and no other single force can withstand him, no combination of
forces will easily overpower him. His position takes the imagination
of the country. He is the representative of no constituency, but
of the whole people . . . the country never feels the zest of
action so much as when its President is of such insight and caliber.
Its instinct is for unified action, and it craves a single leader.
. . .
The President
is at liberty, both in law and conscience, to be as big a man
as he can. His capacity will set the limit . . . he is the only
spokesman of the whole people. [Finally, Presidents should regard]
themselves as less and less executive officers and more and more
directors of affairs and leaders of the nation men of
counsel and of the sort of action that makes for enlightenment.
This is not
a theory of the presidency. It is the hope for a new messiah. That
indeed is what the presidency has come to. But any man who accepts
this view is not a free man. He is not a man who understands what
constitutes civilized life. The man who accepts what Wilson calls
for is an apostle of the total State and a defender of collectivism
and despotism.
Conservatives
used to understand this. In the last century, all the great political
philosophers men like John Randolph and John Taylor and
John C. Calhoun did. In this century, the right was born
in reaction to the imperial presidency. Men like Albert Jay Nock,
Garet Garrett, John T. Flynn, and Felix Morley called the FDR presidency
what it was: a US version of the dictatorships that arose in Russia
and Germany, and a profound evil draining away the very life of
the nation. They understood that FDR had brought both the Congress
and the Supreme Court under his control, for purposes of power,
national socialism, and war. He shredded what was left of the Constitution,
and set the stage for all the consolidation that followed. Later
presidents were free to nationalize the public schools, administer
the economy according to the dictates of crackpot Keynesian economists,
tell us who we must and who we must not associate with, nationalize
the police function, and run an egalitarian regime that extols nondiscrimination
as the sole moral tenet, when it is clearly not a moral tenet at
all. Later conservatives like James Burnham, Wilmoore Kendall, and
Robert Nisbet, understood this point too.
Yet who do
modern conservatives extol? Lincoln, Wilson, and FDR. Reagan spoke
of them as gods and models, and so did Bush and Gingrich. In the
1980s, we were told that Congress was the imperial branch of government
because Tip O'Neill had a few questions about Reagan's tax-and-spend
military buildup, and his strategy for fostering global warfare
while managing world affairs through the CIA. All this was bolstered
by books by Harvey Mansfield, Terry Eastland, and dozens of other
neoconservatives who pretended to provide some justification for
presidential supremacy and its exercise of global rule. More recently
even Pat Buchanan repeated the "Ask not . . . " admonition
of John F. Kennedy, that we should live to serve the central government
and its organizing principle, the presidency.
What the neocon
logic comes down to is this: The US has a moral responsibility to
run the world. But the citizens are too stupid to understand this.
That's why we can't use democratic institutions like Congress in
this ambition. We must use the executive power of the presidency.
It must have total control over foreign affairs, and never bow to
Congressional carping. Once this point is conceded, the game is
over. The demands of a centralized and all-powerful presidency and
its interventionist foreign policy are ideologically reinforcing.
One needs the other. If the presidency is supreme in global affairs,
it will be supreme in domestic affairs. If it is supreme at home,
there will be no states' rights, no absolute property rights, no
true liberty from government oppression. The continued centralization
of government in the presidency represents the end of America and
its civilization.
A key part
of the theory of presidential supremacy in foreign affairs is the
idea that politics stops at the water's edge. If you believe that,
you have given up everything. It means that foreign affairs will
continue to be the last refuge of an omnipotent scoundrel. If a
president can count on the fact that he won't be criticized so long
as he is running a war, he will run more of them. So long as he
is running wars, government at home cannot be cut. As Felix Morley
said, "Politics can stop at the water's edge only when policies
stop at the water's edge."
Sadly, the
Congress for the most part cares nothing about foreign policy. In
that, it reflects the attitude of the American voter. The exception
is the handful of Congressmen who do speak about foreign issues,
usually at the behest of the State Department, the CIA, the Pentagon,
and the increasingly global FBI. Such men are mere adjuncts of presidential
power.
In fact, it
is the obligation of every patriot not only to denounce a president's
actions at home, but to question, harass, and seek to rein in the
presidency when it has sent troops abroad. That is when the watchful
eye of the citizenry is most important. If we hold our tongues under
some mistaken notion of patriotism, we surrender what remains of
our freedoms. Yet during the Gulf War, even those who had courageously
opposed this intervention in advance mouthed the old clichés
about politics and the water's edge and "supporting the troops"
when the presidency started massacring Iraqis. Will the same happen
when the troops are sent to China, a country without a single aircraft
carrier, in retaliation for some trumped-up incident in the tradition
of the Maine, the Lusitania, Pearl Harbor, and the
Gulf of Tonkin?
If there is
ever a time to get behind a president, it is when he withdraws from
the world, stops wars, and brings the troops home. If there is ever
a time to trip him up, question his leadership, and denounce his
usurpations, it is when he does the opposite. A bipartisan foreign
policy is a Napoleonic foreign policy, and the opposite of that
prescribed by Washington in his farewell address.
In the midst
of America's war against Britain in 1812, John Randolph wrote an
open letter to his Virginia constituents, pleading with them not
to support the war, and promising them he would not, for he knew
where war led: to presidential dictatorship: "If you and your
posterity are to become hewers of wood and drawers of water to the
modern Pharaoh, it shall not be for the want of my best exertions
to rescue you from cruel and abject bondage."
Sixty years
ago all conservatives would have agreed with him. But the neoconservative
onslaught has purged conservatives of their instinctive suspicions
of presidential power.
By the time
1994 had come around, conservatives had been thoroughly indoctrinated
in the theory that Congress was out of control, and that the executive
branch needed more power. The leadership of the 104th Congress
dominated to a man by neocons and presidential supremacists
bamboozled the freshmen into pushing for three executive-enhancing
measures.
In one of the
Congress's first actions, it made itself subject to the oppressive
civil rights and labor laws that the Executive enforced against
the rest of the nation. This was incredibly stupid. The Congress
was exempted from these for a reason. It prevented the Executive
from using its own regulatory agencies to lord it over Congress.
By making itself subject to these laws, Congress willingly submitted
itself to implicit and explicit domination by the Department of
Labor, the Department of Justice, and the EEOC. It imposed quotas
and political correctness on itself, while any dissenters from the
presidential line suddenly faced the threat of investigation and
prosecution by those they were attempting to rein in. The imposition
of these laws against Congress is a clear violation of the separation
of powers. But it would not be the last time that this Congress
made this mistake. It also passed the line-item veto, another violation
of the separation of powers. The theory was that the president would
strike out pork, pork being defined as property taken by taxation
and redistributed to special interests. But since pork is the entirety
of the federal government's $1.7 trillion budget, this has given
the president wide latitude over Congress. It takes away from Congress
the right to control the purse strings.
Also part of
the Contract with America was term limits for Congress. This would
represent a severe diminution of Congressional power with respect
to the presidency. After all, it would not mean term limits for
the permanent bureaucracy or for federal judges, but only for the
one branch the people can actually control. Thank goodness the self-interest
of the politicians themselves prevented it from coming into being.
After that initial burst of energy, this Congress surrendered everything
to the Clinton White House: control of the budget, control of foreign
affairs, and control of the Federal Reserve, and the FBI. The Justice
Department operates practically without oversight, as does the Treasury,
HUD, Transportation, Commerce, EPA, the SEC, the FTC, and the FDA.
Congress has
given in on point after point, eventually even granting the presidency
most of what it demanded in health-care reform, including mandated
equal coverage of the mentally ill. Chalk it up to long-term planning.
They came into office pledging to curb government, but are as infatuated
with the presidency as Clinton himself. After all, they hope their
party will regain the office.
Then the Republicans
had the audacity to ask in bewilderment: why did the president beat
Dole? What did we do wrong? The real question is what have they
done right? James Burnham said that the legislature is useless unless
it is curbing the presidency. By that measure, this Congress has
been worthless. It deserves to lose its majority. And its party
deserves to lose the presidency, whose powers they are so anxious
to grab for themselves.
The
best moments in the 104th Congress were when a few freshmen talked
quietly of impeachment. Indeed it is their responsibility to talk
loudly, openly, and constantly of impeachment. Today's presidency
is by definition in violation of the Constitution. Talk of impeachment
ought to become routine. So should ridicule and humiliation. For
if we care about liberty, the plebiscitary dictatorship must be
reined in or tossed out.
John
Randolph had only been a Senator for a few days when he gave an
extraordinary speech denouncing John Quincy Adams. "It is my
duty," said Randolph, "to leave nothing undone that I
may lawfully do, to pull down this administration. . . . They who,
from indifference, or with their eyes open, persist in hugging the
traitor to their bosom, deserve to be insulted . . . deserve to
be slaves, with no other music to soothe them but the clank of the
chains which they have put on themselves and given to their offspring."
John Randolph said this in 1826. This was a time, writes de Tocqueville,
when the presidency was almost invisible. If we cannot say this
and more today, when the presidency is dictator to the world, we
are not authentic conservatives and libertarians. Indeed, we are
not free men.
This speech
was delivered near the imperial capital on October 6, 1996, at the
John Randolph Club.
Llewellyn
H. Rockwell, Jr. [send him
mail], former editorial assistant to Ludwig von Mises and congressional
chief of staff to Ron Paul, is founder and chairman of the Mises
Institute, executor for the estate of Murray N. Rothbard, and
editor of LewRockwell.com.
See his
books.
Copyright
© 2004 by LewRockwell.com. Permission to reprint in whole or in
part is gladly granted, provided full credit is given.
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