The
presidency must be destroyed. It is the primary evil we 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 towards decadence and trash. It tells lie
after lie. Teachers used to tell schools 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 its 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, the business, the charity, and
the community.
I'll
go further. The U.S. 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 U.S. 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 U.S. 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, more well known for his private parts than his public
policies. 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 U.S. 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
(and someday Vatican II 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 Columbia, 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 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
U.S. president is the worse 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 made 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 U.S. 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, that "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 an philander,
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 nine of the
thirteen 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 naive 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 co-operate 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 up 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 be 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," Wilson begins, "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 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 U.S. version of the dictatorships that arose in Russia
and Germany, and a profound evil draining away ry 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 a egalitarian regime that extols
non-discrimination 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 provided 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 U.S. 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 is 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 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 cliches about politics and the water's
edge and "supporting our 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 plebiscitory 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 sooth 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 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. Indeed, we are not free men.