The Jeffersonians Were Right After All
by Thomas E. Woods, Jr.
by Thomas E. Woods, Jr.
DIGG THIS
To the casual
eye, Kevin Gutzman has written a scholarly book about Virginian
political thought and practice from revolutionary times through
1840. But its scholarly merits do not exhaust the merits of Virginia’s
American Revolution: From Dominion to Republic, 1776-1840.
Readers are also treated to the incidental pleasure of watching
the Straussian rendering of American history dismantled piece by
piece.
As that version
would have it, the United States was formed by a single American
people in the aggregate and is not and never was a compact among
sovereign states. The states are necessarily subordinate in their
relationship with the federal government, never having enjoyed independent
existences of their own. They possess no corporate mechanism by
which to resist federal usurpation, and they are bound to accept
the federal government’s monopoly on constitutional interpretation.
Gutzman begins
his story in the 1760s, as the controversy with the mother country
is growing more and more intense. Richard Bland, who served in the
House of Burgesses, began his 1766 pamphlet An
Inquiry into the Rights of the British Colonies by revisiting
his colony’s early history. In coming to these shores, he said,
Virginia’s settlers had availed themselves of the natural right
to emigrate. They had come to a new land at their own expense, and
were no longer subject to English law, having fallen under the "Law
of Nature" instead.
That meant
Virginians had been in a position to enter, of their own free will,
into a mutually binding relationship with the Crown, which they
subsequently did. They expected future kings to abide by James I’s
promise that Virginia’s form of government would never be altered.
Virginia could be taxed only by its representatives, and possessed
"such Freedoms and Privileges as belong to the Free People
of England." The Crown had repeated this guarantee numerous
times, said Bland, in its commissions to Virginia’s royal governors.
Thomas Jefferson
lent his own support to this narrative in his Summary
View of the Rights of British America, but as Gutzman observes,
there is "virtually nothing in Jefferson’s Summary View
that Mason, Bland, Carter, or the Burgesses had not said before."
The preamble
to Virginia’s republican constitution of 1776 spelled out Virginia’s
understanding of its legal status before the world, as it had been
explicated by Bland and Jefferson. Virginia had the exclusive authority
to govern for Virginia. The king, meanwhile, had unjustly refused
to accept a position as head of a great commonwealth of dominions
tied together by a common loyalty to his dynasty.
The grievances
listed in the preamble revolve almost entirely around the issue
of self-government – economics barely appears; religion, not at
all. That self-government was later reaffirmed in the Articles of
Confederation, Article II of which described the states as having
maintained their "sovereignty, freedom, and independence."
Virginians were persuaded to adopt the federal Constitution in 1788
on the grounds that that sovereignty would hardly be affected by
the proposed confederation.
With all the
emphasis that is normally placed on the Constitution’s Framers,
we are apt to neglect the importance of the ratifiers, for
it is they whose interpretation of the Constitution – and in particular,
the precise nature of what they believed they were getting into
– is of ultimate importance. And here is the heart of Gutzman’s
argument.
At Virginia’s
ratifying convention, the concern was raised that phrases like "general
welfare" could be cited by ambitious politicians who wanted
to exercise powers beyond those outlined in Article I, Section 8
of the Constitution. Federalist Edmund Randolph, who had been Virginia’s
attorney general for the past decade, assured everyone that his
fears were unfounded, for all rights were declared in the Constitution
to be "completely vested in the people, unless expressly given
away. Can there be a more pointed or positive reservation?"
In other words,
this was a strictly limited and federal government.
George Nicholas,
who would become Kentucky’s first attorney general, explained:
If thirteen
individuals are about to make a contract, and one agrees to it,
but at the same time declares that he understands its meaning,
signification and intent, to be, what the words of the contract
plainly and obviously denote; that it is not to be construed so
as to impose any supplementary condition upon him, and that he
is to be exonerated from it, whensoever any such imposition shall
be attempted – I ask whether in this case, these conditions on
which he assented to it, would not be binding on the other twelve?
In like manner these conditions will be binding on Congress. They
can exercise no power that is not expressly granted them.
Randolph and
Nicholas belonged to the five-man committee that was to draw up
Virginia’s ratification instrument. They were in a unique position
to articulate the understanding that would govern Virginia’s ratification.
Virginians
kept this limited view of the Constitution and the federal Union
very much in mind into the 1790s. Disturbed by Alexander Hamilton’s
financial program, particularly the federal assumption of state
debts, Patrick Henry drafted a resolution for the Virginia legislature
in which he borrowed from the language of the assurances of Randolph
and Nicholas that the federal government would have only those powers
expressly delegated to it. The House passed it that day, the Senate
six weeks later.
Shortly after
Henry drafted his resolution, a General Assembly committee issued
a report about the Washington Administration’s policies, which it
found alarming. It declared (borrowing from Randolph and Nicholas)
that the states were "contracting parties" whose rights
were "sacred." It insisted, echoing Randolph, that "every
power not granted [to the federal government] was retained"
by Virginia.
What this means,
Gutzman explains, is that
Nicholas
and Randolph’s explanation of the Constitution, and thus of the
significance of Virginia’s ratification, had come to be seen as
completely authoritative by the overwhelming majority of Virginia’s
political leadership. As in the Imperial Crisis and the Confederation
period, Virginians conceived of their interstate union as precisely
a federal union, a union among parties that were somehow
on an equal footing (as Nicholas had put it, thirteen contracting
parties). Virginia, not America, remained the primary political
unit, the United States Government a convenience.
Virginians
continued to draw out the implications of these views over the course
of the 1790s. According to John Taylor of Caroline, the great Virginian
political pamphleteer, "The confederation is not a compact
of individuals; it is a compact of states." It was therefore
the responsibility of the state legislatures to monitor the federal
government and, if necessary, to prevent the enforcement of laws
that violated the Constitution.
Constitutions
are violated, Taylor said, and it would be absurd to expect
the federal government to enforce the Constitution against itself.
If the very federal judges the Constitution was partly intended
to restrain were the ones exclusively charged with enforcing it,
then "America possesses only the effigy of a Constitution."
The states, the very constituents of the Union, had to do the enforcing.
So by the time
of the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions of 1798, whose doctrines
of interposition and nullification held that the states could refuse
to enforce any federal law they considered unconstitutional, there
was nothing new or unusual about such a view. It was merely the
logical implication of assurances by Federalists at the ratifying
convention, assurances that had dominated Virginia’s constitutional
thought in the ensuing decade.
Those resolutions,
in other words, "floated like leaves on the stream of the Virginia
constitutional tradition of Jefferson’s A Summary View of the
Rights of British America, Richard Bland’s An Inquiry into
the Rights of the British Colonies, John Taylor’s pamphlets
of the 1790s, and the Richmond Convention’s instrument of ratification
(as explicated by George Nicholas and Edmund Randolph)." In
form and content they belonged to the tradition of Patrick Henry’s
Stamp Act Resolves and his General Assembly Resolution of 1790.
Historians
had sometimes claimed that Jefferson, the anonymous author of the
Kentucky Resolutions, hastily devised nullification as an ad
hoc response to the Alien and Sedition Acts’ assaults on civil
liberties. But as Gutzman shows, nullification, Jefferson’s proposed
remedy, was in fact the culmination of a decade’s worth of Virginian
political thought traceable to the ratifying convention. There was
nothing ad hoc about it.
The principle
of local self-government and against interference from distant central
authorities was central to Virginian political thought both before
and after the War for Independence. This is a key point of continuity
between late colonial Virginia and the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions
of 1798. "As during the Imperial Crisis, so after the enactment
of the federal Constitution, Virginians put their state first and
the distant authority they had erected for their state’s convenience
– formerly in Great Britain, now in the federal capital – somewhere
down the list."
Now if someone
were to try to use this history as an argument in support of states’
rights today, or more generally on behalf of the compact theory
of the Union, one can imagine a predictable response: Virginia was
only one state, and its ratification debates do not authoritatively
bind others in their own interpretations of the Constitution and
the nature of the Union.
Gutzman has
anticipated this reply, and has elsewhere answered it – persuasively,
to my mind. Since Article II of the Articles of Confederation declared
the states (including Virginia) to be sovereign, and since the delegates
to Virginia’s ratifying convention explained to the people of Virginia
that their state was one of thirteen parties to a compact from which
they would be exonerated if it exceeded its delegated powers, then
how could other states lack such a status themselves? If we accept
the co-equality of the states as a constitutional principle – that
is, some states cannot have more or different rights than others
– then no other conclusion seems to follow, even if other states
may have understood the nature of the Union differently at the time
they entered.
In light of
all this, one can imagine Gutzman’s opinion of the centralizing
John Marshall, but Marshall figures little in this book, which focuses
primarily on Virginia’s experience rather than on the Union as a
whole. For Gutzman on Marshall, see his excellent book The
Politically Incorrect Guide to the Constitution.
In short, Virginia’s
American Revolution is not only an invaluable contribution to
the scholarly literature, but it is also a treasure trove for those
who would recapture the original American republic.
May
9, 2008
Thomas
E. Woods, Jr. [view his
website; send
him mail] is senior fellow in American history at the
Ludwig von Mises Institute
and the author, most recently, of Sacred
Then and Sacred Now: The Return of the Old Latin Mass and
33
Questions About American History You’re Not Supposed to Ask.
His other books include How
the Catholic Church Built Western Civilization (get a free chapter
here),
The
Church and the Market: A Catholic Defense of the Free Economy
(first-place winner in the 2006
Templeton Enterprise Awards), and the New York Times
bestseller The
Politically Incorrect Guide to American History.
Copyright
© 2008 LewRockwell.com
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