The Future of the Senate
by Chris Boundy
Over the last year or so, the Senate has lost three of its most well regarded and longest serving members: Senator Ted Stevens of Alaska, Senator Robert Byrd of West Virginia, and of course our own Senator Kennedy. At the same time, some of those seeking membership to Congress’ upper chamber are openly disdainful of the deliberative nature and the bipartisanship that are the sine qua non of the Senate. What does this change mean for the bodies future?
The influence of any three men in a body of a hundred should not be overestimated. But included in these three are the longest serving Senator in history, the fourth longest serving Senator in history, and the longest serving Republican Senator in history. Together they represented nearly a hundred and forty years of legislative knowledge and experience.
More important than simple longevity, however, is that each man had a deep love for the Senate as an institution. Each understood its history and, indeed, had been a member long enough to shape a large part of that history. Each had an impressive knowledge of parliamentary procedure, gained over decades of experience, and was fiercely protective of his home states’ interests. And, perhaps most importantly, over a long career each had the opportunity to work with colleagues from the opposing party and to understand the importance of maintaining working relations with people they might work with for years to come.
None of these men were saints. From Chappaquiddick to the Bridge to Nowhere to a youthful membership in the Klu Klux Klan, each man suffered personal and professional travails. But they each shared a common, vital idea of what the Senate was and the role it should play in American society.
We often forget, but the Senate is something of an oddity in our democratic system. What, after all, is the explanation for giving a state with the population of Delaware the same representation as a state the size of California? At the Founding, smaller states argued that they needed protection against larger states. If this argument once had some validity, it is difficult to argue any survives. States interests align along many axes—business interests, populations, geographic region---but size qua size is not one of them.
The true benefit of the Senate lies not in each state having an equal number of representatives, but in the Senate being a smaller chamber. Whereas Representatives in the House have only two-year terms and over four hundred colleagues, Senators, over the course of their six years, have ample time to get to know their less than a hundred colleagues. When disagreements arise, Senators are in a better position to understand and discuss issues with the opposition.
Indeed, the filibuster, a uniquely Senatorial creation, is a perfect example of this difference. The rule was originally meant to allow full and free debate. Although the lower house might impose time restrictions, it was thought that in the Senate each member should have enough time to fully speak his views. While allowing a Senator to speak at length incidentally impeded Senate business, this was believed to be an acceptable trade off for allowing Senators whatever time they might need to argue issues of national import.
In more modern times, the situation has exactly reversed and the filibuster has become a means to stifle debate. Accordingly, a movement has begun to abolish it. But, as proponents of the rule correctly point out, the problem is not in the rule itself, but in how it is used. Any tool can be a weapon if you hold it right, and there is not shortage of parliamentary maneuvers for blocking Senate business. The larger problem is the discord within the Senate itself.
And that discord is a problem that seems unlikely to abate anytime soon. To the contrary, a group of conservative Senate candidates, including members of the Tea Party, have made disdain for the collegiality and deliberative nature of the Senate part of their campaigns. Of course, it remains to be seen how successful these conservative candidates will be in the general elections in November. Regardless, collegiality and deliberation are central to what the Senate is, and the United States has little use for an upper body that is equally rancorous, but otherwise only a smaller and less democratic version of the House. And that is something that Senators Kennedy, Stevens, and Byrd each understood only too well.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
What Can Democrats Learn From Frank Skeffington?
“What Can Democrats Learn From Frank Skeffington?”
by Chris Boundy
In Edwin O’Connor’s classic tale of city politics, The Last Hurrah, a mayoral campaign is fought in a large city (often identified as Boston) in the early 20th century. The incumbent, Frank Skeffington, has experience, a strong intuitive sense for politics, and an astounding charisma on his side. His opponent, Kevin McCluskey, is a handsome young war veteran with no political experience but who enjoys the support of a powerful group of newspapermen and financial backers. In the shocking conclusion Skeffington loses the election to McCluskey in a landslide.
In the end, Skeffington is undone through no fault of his own. Time has simply passed him by. A younger generation of voters now holds sway, and they are used to relying on the federal, not local, government for their needs. They are also more comfortable with television, a medium that Skeffington uses, but does not prefer, but that McCluskey excels at. In fact, the bulk of McCluskey’s campaign is tightly choreographed commercials that showcase his attractive family and home life. McCluskey’s backers recognize early that this new medium can showcase their candidate’s strengths while minimizing his weaknesses. In the end this awareness makes all the difference.
In our own day television hardly remains a novel medium. Still, technology has continued to evolve and politicians continue to learn, eventually, how to harness it to their needs. For instance, two and a half million people currently “like” Sarah Palin on Facebook, and she has more than three hundred thousand followers on Twitter. In the age of smart phones, that means that Palin’s thoughts can potentially reach millions of supporters instantly, no matter where they are or what they are doing. Moreover, both mediums encourage the kind of brief, catchy statements that Palin excels at, while discouraging longer more developed analysis that, at least according to her critics, Palin is less capable of.
The implications of her mastery of these new mediums often goes unappreciated. As Palin prepares for what most people assume is a presidential run there has been much talk about how she has failed to lay the proper groundwork for her campaign, either by not building relationships with party officials and media in early primary states, by not raising sufficient funds, or by not yet organizing her supporters effectively for a national campaign. But if Palin’s post-gubernatorial career has taught the world anything it’s that if she continues to keep in touch with and broaden her base, the necessary doors will open for her. Why cultivate relationships with the politicians and newspapers in Iowa and New Hampshire? If she builds her base sufficiently than both will come to her. As for raising money and organizing, it was, ironically enough, President Obama’s 2008 campaign that truly demonstrated the power of the Internet to do both. Given Palin’s success using the Internet so far, she might well feel confident about her ability to copy, and potentially improve, President Obama’s previous successes in these areas.
Undoubtedly, if asked, the Palin Campaign would claim that they identified the political potential for Twitter and Facebook early on and planned from the beginning to use them as an engine to power their political activities. Personally, I think it’s more likely that following several calamitous interactions with traditional media outlets, the Palin Campaign simply identified the avenues available to them and, by chance, those avenues had developed to the point where they could be used effectively as political tools. Whichever way the direction of causation runs, however, the end results are the same.
At the end of The Last Hurrah, O’Connor is carefully agnostic about whether McCluskey’s election will have a positive or negative impact on the city. McCluskey has shown precious little ability to assert his own views when faced with pressure from his backers. Skeffington, on the other hand, while likeable, is a bit of a rogue and has never been opposed to a little, or a lot, of graft. What is clear is that politics in the city are forever changed and that future campaign will need to take account of these changed realities if the wish to be successful. Failing to do so invites the kind of landslide that was the end of Frank Skeffington.
by Chris Boundy
In Edwin O’Connor’s classic tale of city politics, The Last Hurrah, a mayoral campaign is fought in a large city (often identified as Boston) in the early 20th century. The incumbent, Frank Skeffington, has experience, a strong intuitive sense for politics, and an astounding charisma on his side. His opponent, Kevin McCluskey, is a handsome young war veteran with no political experience but who enjoys the support of a powerful group of newspapermen and financial backers. In the shocking conclusion Skeffington loses the election to McCluskey in a landslide.
In the end, Skeffington is undone through no fault of his own. Time has simply passed him by. A younger generation of voters now holds sway, and they are used to relying on the federal, not local, government for their needs. They are also more comfortable with television, a medium that Skeffington uses, but does not prefer, but that McCluskey excels at. In fact, the bulk of McCluskey’s campaign is tightly choreographed commercials that showcase his attractive family and home life. McCluskey’s backers recognize early that this new medium can showcase their candidate’s strengths while minimizing his weaknesses. In the end this awareness makes all the difference.
In our own day television hardly remains a novel medium. Still, technology has continued to evolve and politicians continue to learn, eventually, how to harness it to their needs. For instance, two and a half million people currently “like” Sarah Palin on Facebook, and she has more than three hundred thousand followers on Twitter. In the age of smart phones, that means that Palin’s thoughts can potentially reach millions of supporters instantly, no matter where they are or what they are doing. Moreover, both mediums encourage the kind of brief, catchy statements that Palin excels at, while discouraging longer more developed analysis that, at least according to her critics, Palin is less capable of.
The implications of her mastery of these new mediums often goes unappreciated. As Palin prepares for what most people assume is a presidential run there has been much talk about how she has failed to lay the proper groundwork for her campaign, either by not building relationships with party officials and media in early primary states, by not raising sufficient funds, or by not yet organizing her supporters effectively for a national campaign. But if Palin’s post-gubernatorial career has taught the world anything it’s that if she continues to keep in touch with and broaden her base, the necessary doors will open for her. Why cultivate relationships with the politicians and newspapers in Iowa and New Hampshire? If she builds her base sufficiently than both will come to her. As for raising money and organizing, it was, ironically enough, President Obama’s 2008 campaign that truly demonstrated the power of the Internet to do both. Given Palin’s success using the Internet so far, she might well feel confident about her ability to copy, and potentially improve, President Obama’s previous successes in these areas.
Undoubtedly, if asked, the Palin Campaign would claim that they identified the political potential for Twitter and Facebook early on and planned from the beginning to use them as an engine to power their political activities. Personally, I think it’s more likely that following several calamitous interactions with traditional media outlets, the Palin Campaign simply identified the avenues available to them and, by chance, those avenues had developed to the point where they could be used effectively as political tools. Whichever way the direction of causation runs, however, the end results are the same.
At the end of The Last Hurrah, O’Connor is carefully agnostic about whether McCluskey’s election will have a positive or negative impact on the city. McCluskey has shown precious little ability to assert his own views when faced with pressure from his backers. Skeffington, on the other hand, while likeable, is a bit of a rogue and has never been opposed to a little, or a lot, of graft. What is clear is that politics in the city are forever changed and that future campaign will need to take account of these changed realities if the wish to be successful. Failing to do so invites the kind of landslide that was the end of Frank Skeffington.
The Aftermath
“The Aftermath”
by Christopher Boundy
January 10, 2011
In the reporting that followed the shootings in Tucson, Arizona many state and federal legislators who knew Representative Gabrielle Giffords were interviewed. One common theme that emerged, besides a heartfelt admiration for Rep. Giffords and sympathy for the victims of the attacks, was that each of Giffords’ colleagues had received violent threats in the past. These threats came without regard to whether the individual worked at the state or federal level, and without regard to party affiliation or ideology. It was a sober reminder of the dangers that all our elected officials face in the performance of their duties.
Given this reminder of the courage our legislators regularly display, it was disappointing to see how quickly the partisan jockeying began following the shootings. Liberals and various news commentators quickly began drawing a connection between the sharp rhetoric currently permeating our national politics and the violence that occurred on January 8th. It did not take long for Sarah Palin’s famous poster, identifying vulnerable Congressional districts with crosshairs, to be unearthed and spread across the Internet. Although Palin herself has remained notably silent, other conservatives quickly mounted a defense and began countercharging that the shootings, a national tragedy, were not the kind of things that should be politicized to push an ideological agenda. The fact that Jared Lee Loughner listed the Communist Manifesto as a favorite novel was duly noted.
What the shooters motivations actually were is unclear and probably will remain so for some time. Those motivations will undoubtedly be the subject of intense investigation over the coming months by federal and local law enforcement officials. But, right now, it’s unclear whether Loughner followed national politics at all, or if he even knows who Sarah Palin is.
In a way, that makes Loughner’s actions even more frightening. They were the arbitrary actions of a young man who is either completely delusional or deeply evil. But the very fact that Loughner’s actions were so despicable casts a revealing light on the current level of partisanship in our capital. Republicans, Democrats and their backers may consider their opponents to be enemies. They may consider them to be wrongheaded, dishonest, and foolish. Even devious. But the overheated rhetoric and inflamed tempers in Washington pale next to the example of hatred that took place in Tucson only days ago. Similarly, while it is surely premature to blame sharp political rhetoric for Loughner’s actions, the attacks themselves underscore why such comments have no place in modern political conversation. It’s difficult to now think of a candidate for office suggesting that their supporters “reload” when confronting political opposition.
In the end, Loughner’s attack on Rep. Giffords was an attack on democracy itself. The attack directly threatened the face-to-face interaction that is necessary to a representative democracy and both legislators and their constituents will be tempted to avoid exposing themselves to similar dangers in the future in the future. But there is no hiding from some threats. And that fact should drive us together, not pull us apart.
by Christopher Boundy
January 10, 2011
In the reporting that followed the shootings in Tucson, Arizona many state and federal legislators who knew Representative Gabrielle Giffords were interviewed. One common theme that emerged, besides a heartfelt admiration for Rep. Giffords and sympathy for the victims of the attacks, was that each of Giffords’ colleagues had received violent threats in the past. These threats came without regard to whether the individual worked at the state or federal level, and without regard to party affiliation or ideology. It was a sober reminder of the dangers that all our elected officials face in the performance of their duties.
Given this reminder of the courage our legislators regularly display, it was disappointing to see how quickly the partisan jockeying began following the shootings. Liberals and various news commentators quickly began drawing a connection between the sharp rhetoric currently permeating our national politics and the violence that occurred on January 8th. It did not take long for Sarah Palin’s famous poster, identifying vulnerable Congressional districts with crosshairs, to be unearthed and spread across the Internet. Although Palin herself has remained notably silent, other conservatives quickly mounted a defense and began countercharging that the shootings, a national tragedy, were not the kind of things that should be politicized to push an ideological agenda. The fact that Jared Lee Loughner listed the Communist Manifesto as a favorite novel was duly noted.
What the shooters motivations actually were is unclear and probably will remain so for some time. Those motivations will undoubtedly be the subject of intense investigation over the coming months by federal and local law enforcement officials. But, right now, it’s unclear whether Loughner followed national politics at all, or if he even knows who Sarah Palin is.
In a way, that makes Loughner’s actions even more frightening. They were the arbitrary actions of a young man who is either completely delusional or deeply evil. But the very fact that Loughner’s actions were so despicable casts a revealing light on the current level of partisanship in our capital. Republicans, Democrats and their backers may consider their opponents to be enemies. They may consider them to be wrongheaded, dishonest, and foolish. Even devious. But the overheated rhetoric and inflamed tempers in Washington pale next to the example of hatred that took place in Tucson only days ago. Similarly, while it is surely premature to blame sharp political rhetoric for Loughner’s actions, the attacks themselves underscore why such comments have no place in modern political conversation. It’s difficult to now think of a candidate for office suggesting that their supporters “reload” when confronting political opposition.
In the end, Loughner’s attack on Rep. Giffords was an attack on democracy itself. The attack directly threatened the face-to-face interaction that is necessary to a representative democracy and both legislators and their constituents will be tempted to avoid exposing themselves to similar dangers in the future in the future. But there is no hiding from some threats. And that fact should drive us together, not pull us apart.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Democratic Allergies
Last week the world witnessed a historic election in Great Britain. Following a tightly fought campaign, the country emerged not only with its youngest Prime Minister in two hundred years and its first coalition government in sixty years, but it also with the first Conservative-Liberal Democrat Coalition in its history.
This change didn’t come about easily. The elections didn’t give any party a clear majority, leaving the parties to hash out a coalition government. Several tense days of backroom negotiations followed. Eventually, the Liberal Democrats threw their lot in with Conservatives—for a hefty price. Nick Clegg, leader of the Liberal Democrats, wrangled the position of Deputy Prime Minister, and six other Liberal Democrats secured ministerial posts in the new government.
Equally importantly, the Lib Dems secured a Conservative promise to put an important piece of election reform before the voters—a proposal to switch from first-past-the-post voting to an alternative vote system where voters rank their nominee preference (known in the U.S. as an instant run off system). The change could have serious consequences—according to some estimates the Liberal Democrats would have picked up fifty more seats with the alternative vote. Lib Dems have argued that in the first-past-the-post system a third party vote is often thrown away—something that third parties in the U.S. can surely sympathize with. But why has bringing this relatively straightforward issue before the voters been so difficult? The fact that Lib Dems could only secure the promise for a referendum now, after years of effort, when they were essentially placed in the role of kingmakers, gives some indication of how hard it can be to bring about electoral reform even in advanced democracies.
The last truly tumultuous election in the U.S. occurred in 2000. But for all the anger and disappointment that election caused, the 2000 election led to very little discussion, much less change, in our electoral process. Indeed, there seems to be an unnatural allergy to even discussing alterations. For example, one of the last major third parties movements in the U.S., the Green Party, was blamed for Democrat’s loss of the Presidential election in 2000. The fact that the Green Party won millions of votes in Florida, and that the Democratic Party won many millions more than that, however, didn’t lead to a discussion of why Florida’s electoral votes should all go to the Republican candidate. Similarly, even though the Electoral College gave the Presidency to George Bush despite the fact that Al Gore won the popular vote, no movement materialized to remove that antiquated mechanism. And anger at the Supreme Court didn’t lead to a discussion of term limits for Supreme Court justices or of the merits of judicial review of non-constitutional questions.
A more immediately relevant example is the issue of redistricting. Following the 2010 Census the governing party in many states will have the chance to redraw electoral district lines. In theory, the lines should be redrawn to reflect changes in population, but the reality of redistricting—so long accepted now as to be taken for granted—is that it gives the ruling party the opportunity to draw lines around its constituency. It is the democratic process backwards: The representatives are choosing their constituency.
While the newspaper editor who coined the term “gerrymandering” should receive great credit for cleverness, he did no favor for democracy. The term allows too many people, including those who know better, to think of the practice as an excusable eccentricity; a benign oddity of the U.S. system. In truth, the world would be a better place if the gerrymander were extinct. Incumbents should not be able to tailor their districts to ensure their reelection. How can an election be free and fair when one side is choosing who votes?
This failure to discuss inadequacies in our electoral processes is particularly odd for a country that takes such pride in its democracy, and that exports it so vigorously. Indeed, it is in the best of American traditions to innovate, to take risks, and to continually pursue perfection. These attributes are needed as much, if not more, in the realm of governance than business. Yet it is there that they are almost completely lacking. The U.S. would be much better off if we, like our cousins the British, worked to develop a resistance to this highly peculiar, and insidious, allergy.
This change didn’t come about easily. The elections didn’t give any party a clear majority, leaving the parties to hash out a coalition government. Several tense days of backroom negotiations followed. Eventually, the Liberal Democrats threw their lot in with Conservatives—for a hefty price. Nick Clegg, leader of the Liberal Democrats, wrangled the position of Deputy Prime Minister, and six other Liberal Democrats secured ministerial posts in the new government.
Equally importantly, the Lib Dems secured a Conservative promise to put an important piece of election reform before the voters—a proposal to switch from first-past-the-post voting to an alternative vote system where voters rank their nominee preference (known in the U.S. as an instant run off system). The change could have serious consequences—according to some estimates the Liberal Democrats would have picked up fifty more seats with the alternative vote. Lib Dems have argued that in the first-past-the-post system a third party vote is often thrown away—something that third parties in the U.S. can surely sympathize with. But why has bringing this relatively straightforward issue before the voters been so difficult? The fact that Lib Dems could only secure the promise for a referendum now, after years of effort, when they were essentially placed in the role of kingmakers, gives some indication of how hard it can be to bring about electoral reform even in advanced democracies.
The last truly tumultuous election in the U.S. occurred in 2000. But for all the anger and disappointment that election caused, the 2000 election led to very little discussion, much less change, in our electoral process. Indeed, there seems to be an unnatural allergy to even discussing alterations. For example, one of the last major third parties movements in the U.S., the Green Party, was blamed for Democrat’s loss of the Presidential election in 2000. The fact that the Green Party won millions of votes in Florida, and that the Democratic Party won many millions more than that, however, didn’t lead to a discussion of why Florida’s electoral votes should all go to the Republican candidate. Similarly, even though the Electoral College gave the Presidency to George Bush despite the fact that Al Gore won the popular vote, no movement materialized to remove that antiquated mechanism. And anger at the Supreme Court didn’t lead to a discussion of term limits for Supreme Court justices or of the merits of judicial review of non-constitutional questions.
A more immediately relevant example is the issue of redistricting. Following the 2010 Census the governing party in many states will have the chance to redraw electoral district lines. In theory, the lines should be redrawn to reflect changes in population, but the reality of redistricting—so long accepted now as to be taken for granted—is that it gives the ruling party the opportunity to draw lines around its constituency. It is the democratic process backwards: The representatives are choosing their constituency.
While the newspaper editor who coined the term “gerrymandering” should receive great credit for cleverness, he did no favor for democracy. The term allows too many people, including those who know better, to think of the practice as an excusable eccentricity; a benign oddity of the U.S. system. In truth, the world would be a better place if the gerrymander were extinct. Incumbents should not be able to tailor their districts to ensure their reelection. How can an election be free and fair when one side is choosing who votes?
This failure to discuss inadequacies in our electoral processes is particularly odd for a country that takes such pride in its democracy, and that exports it so vigorously. Indeed, it is in the best of American traditions to innovate, to take risks, and to continually pursue perfection. These attributes are needed as much, if not more, in the realm of governance than business. Yet it is there that they are almost completely lacking. The U.S. would be much better off if we, like our cousins the British, worked to develop a resistance to this highly peculiar, and insidious, allergy.
“Memorial Day”
By its nature, Memorial Day is solemn. Many Americans spent this past Memorial Day at cemeteries, visiting those they knew or didn’t know, who fought and died in America’s wars. Surprisingly, this somber practice is currently at the heart of a case before the U.S. Supreme Court. The case involves Albert Snyder, the father Marine Lance Cpl. Matthew Snyder, who was killed in Iraq, and the Westboro Baptist Church. The Westboro Baptist Church has made a name for itself over the years by protesting at military funerals and it is now seeking formal protection the practice. The case requires a balancing of the father’ right to privacy and the solemnity of his son’s burial against the Westboro Baptist Church’s First Amendment right to freedom of expression. The Federal District Court for Maryland ruled for Mr. Snyder, but the Court of Appeals reversed.
The Westboro Baptist Church‘s protests are not about Mr. Snyder’s son per se. To the Westboro Baptist Church, all the tragedies that the U.S. suffers, from hurricanes to tornadoes to the deaths of soldiers, are the result of what they take to be America’s permissive attitude toward homosexuality. America is the new Gomorrah. Protesting at soldier’s funerals is only a ploy to get them attention beyond what their message or numbers merit. Although they keep up a busy schedule, most of their protests only include a few church members flown in from their home church in Kansas.
Knowing this hardly makes the Westboro Baptist Church’s actions more forgivable. It takes a fearsome devotion to the First Amendment to defend allowing a group like Westboro Baptist Church to broadcast their bizarre take on world affairs. In many other parts of the world even considering it would be unthinkable. In Germany, and in many countries in Europe, Holocaust Denial is illegal. In Britain, libel laws are so loose that one can be prosecuted for something said in another country. The vigour with which we defend freedom of speech in the U.S. is unique.
There are limitations, of course. You can’t yell “Fire” during a packed showing of “Avatar,” and if you harangue someone viciously enough to get slugged, the First Amendment won’t protect you. But how many other countries in the world would allow a group of Nazi’s march through a town with a large population of Jews, as we did in Skokie, Illinois? Not very many. So the question we have to ask each other is: Is this type of Exceptionalism really in our best interest?
But looking at the question this way makes it clear that the problem isn’t the First Amendment at all. While it’s true that the First Amendment allows the Westboro Baptist Church to carry out its protests, it isn’t the reason they are successful. The Westboro Baptist Church isn’t a civil liberties organization—they protest at soldier’s funerals because they know it will attract a large amount of news coverage. And it is not the First Amendment that gives them that platform—it is us. If we failed to pay attention, the Westboro Baptist Church would seek ways to get their message out. Could we collectively turn away? There’s good reason for doubt. Newspapers, television stations and websites, like any good businesses, will always find room to publish stories that sell, and outrage has a good track record for sales.
It is worth trying, however, if only because the alternative is so unappealing. Whether the First Amendment serves our interests well or poorly, we shouldn’t carve it up for fringe groups like the Westboro Baptist Church. Where would it end? After all, a group that is willing to protest at funerals would probably be willing to engage in other shocking behavior to get attention. Maybe mass flag burnings? Should we write that out of the First Amendment as well?
Nothing good can come by letting fringe groups like the Westboro Baptist Church rewrite our First Amendment jurisprudence. Whether the freedom of speech as it is practiced in the United States is superior to its treatment in the rest of the world is up for debate. If we should ever wish to change our stance, however, we should make sure we are doing it for the right reasons and not the wrong ones.
The Westboro Baptist Church‘s protests are not about Mr. Snyder’s son per se. To the Westboro Baptist Church, all the tragedies that the U.S. suffers, from hurricanes to tornadoes to the deaths of soldiers, are the result of what they take to be America’s permissive attitude toward homosexuality. America is the new Gomorrah. Protesting at soldier’s funerals is only a ploy to get them attention beyond what their message or numbers merit. Although they keep up a busy schedule, most of their protests only include a few church members flown in from their home church in Kansas.
Knowing this hardly makes the Westboro Baptist Church’s actions more forgivable. It takes a fearsome devotion to the First Amendment to defend allowing a group like Westboro Baptist Church to broadcast their bizarre take on world affairs. In many other parts of the world even considering it would be unthinkable. In Germany, and in many countries in Europe, Holocaust Denial is illegal. In Britain, libel laws are so loose that one can be prosecuted for something said in another country. The vigour with which we defend freedom of speech in the U.S. is unique.
There are limitations, of course. You can’t yell “Fire” during a packed showing of “Avatar,” and if you harangue someone viciously enough to get slugged, the First Amendment won’t protect you. But how many other countries in the world would allow a group of Nazi’s march through a town with a large population of Jews, as we did in Skokie, Illinois? Not very many. So the question we have to ask each other is: Is this type of Exceptionalism really in our best interest?
But looking at the question this way makes it clear that the problem isn’t the First Amendment at all. While it’s true that the First Amendment allows the Westboro Baptist Church to carry out its protests, it isn’t the reason they are successful. The Westboro Baptist Church isn’t a civil liberties organization—they protest at soldier’s funerals because they know it will attract a large amount of news coverage. And it is not the First Amendment that gives them that platform—it is us. If we failed to pay attention, the Westboro Baptist Church would seek ways to get their message out. Could we collectively turn away? There’s good reason for doubt. Newspapers, television stations and websites, like any good businesses, will always find room to publish stories that sell, and outrage has a good track record for sales.
It is worth trying, however, if only because the alternative is so unappealing. Whether the First Amendment serves our interests well or poorly, we shouldn’t carve it up for fringe groups like the Westboro Baptist Church. Where would it end? After all, a group that is willing to protest at funerals would probably be willing to engage in other shocking behavior to get attention. Maybe mass flag burnings? Should we write that out of the First Amendment as well?
Nothing good can come by letting fringe groups like the Westboro Baptist Church rewrite our First Amendment jurisprudence. Whether the freedom of speech as it is practiced in the United States is superior to its treatment in the rest of the world is up for debate. If we should ever wish to change our stance, however, we should make sure we are doing it for the right reasons and not the wrong ones.
“A Sinking Tide”
A famous, and optimistic, economic maxim says that “ a rising tide lifts all ships.” Unfortunately the opposite is also true. But a sinking tide is interesting for other reasons. As any beachgoer can tell you, when the tide goes out you can see what was previously covered--all the detritus that the waves bring forward is brought into view. Bottles, wood, seaweed.
In much the same way, an economic downturn uncovers things about our democracy and our society—many of them unsightly. What were previously only disagreements start to come to a fever pitch. Partisan gridlock starts to bring Congress to a halt. It’s not hard to think of specific examples. Like gun control. For one segment of society guns are the tools of criminals and the policeman who chase them. Their existence elsewhere poses an unnecessary risk to children and the mentally unstable. For others, guns are a heritage passed down from generation to generation, all the way back to the founding of the country. They provide a means of recreation and protection.
Or take health care. For some, the creation of universal health care approaches something akin to a moral obligation. America’s failure to provide health care already, when so many other less wealthy countries have been able to do so, is seen as an indictment of US values. To others, the very idea of introducing more government bureaucracy into health care is ill advised. Government programs already exist to cover many people in need. Further involvement will only lead to a loss of overall quality and an increase in government involvement in the lives of people who neither need nor desire it.
Or take border control. Many people see those coming over the border illegally, fleeing desperate poverty and sending massive amounts of money home to wives, children, and parents, and shudder at the idea of treating them like bank robbers and burglars. Others are shocked both by the immigrants disregard of the law and their governments indifference to enforcing it. They see thousands of people streaming over the border, adding to the millions already here, and worry what the effect of such a large group of people will be on a country they care deeply about.
Of course, in a country as large as the U.S. there is room for a variety of viewpoints. One great American strength is the ability of differing, even contradictory, views to coexist peacefully—so long as each party believes that the other has the country’s best interests at heart. But it is exactly this faith that is currently in short supply. The problem is not that the two sides disagree, but that there is mutual incomprehension. That black divide is a fertile breeding group for suspicion and animosity. And there, as Auden said, yawns a divide that embraces cannot bridge.
This rancor and partisanship has not gone unnoticed. To the contrary, both its amount and its severity have been commented upon extensively. What has received less attention is what should be done about it. When Evan Bayh, a giant of the Senate, retired he identified the extreme level of partisanship as a cause and suggested that monthly luncheons of each parties Senators could alleviate some of the ill will. While that suggestion surely has merit, it’s worth considering whether there are other, more fundamental issues that have to be addressed.
Indeed, it is worth asking whether or not certain facets of our democracy are partially to blame. One culprit could be gerrymandering. In many states, the party in power redraws the voting districts every ten years to include populations it knows support their views. This not only makes elections less competitive, it also makes politicians less compromising. After all, if your most serious reelection challenge is likely to come from the radical elements within your own party, why provide ammunition for a sharp primary battle by crossing party lines?
Another possible offender is the primary voting system itself. For the majority of the history of the Republic, primaries didn’t exist. Indeed, even when Robert Kennedy ran for President in 1968 only sixteen states held them. Though they have come to be a settled part of our electoral landscape there has been little public discussion of whether their overall effect has positive. It’s settled political strategy to move to the left or right during a primary campaign and then to move to the center for the general election. But why should we countenance a system that requires a candidate to espouse one set of views to one group and then requires them to give a different account of their views to another group only shortly thereafter, thereby practically requiring deception? Is it any surprise, then, that there has been a push for unwaveringly pure candidates that disdain compromise and who, once elected, will surely serve only to further the partisan gridlock that already consumes our capital?
I don’t mean to suggest that these are the only, or even the foremost causes for the acrimony that currently dominates our public debate. I do suggest that the current acrimony has deep structural roots that need to be addressed. When the tide comes back in it will be easy to put these divisions out of mind. But the water only conceals, it does not repair. If we fail to act, then when the tide goes out again, we are likely to find that our situation has worsened considerably.
In much the same way, an economic downturn uncovers things about our democracy and our society—many of them unsightly. What were previously only disagreements start to come to a fever pitch. Partisan gridlock starts to bring Congress to a halt. It’s not hard to think of specific examples. Like gun control. For one segment of society guns are the tools of criminals and the policeman who chase them. Their existence elsewhere poses an unnecessary risk to children and the mentally unstable. For others, guns are a heritage passed down from generation to generation, all the way back to the founding of the country. They provide a means of recreation and protection.
Or take health care. For some, the creation of universal health care approaches something akin to a moral obligation. America’s failure to provide health care already, when so many other less wealthy countries have been able to do so, is seen as an indictment of US values. To others, the very idea of introducing more government bureaucracy into health care is ill advised. Government programs already exist to cover many people in need. Further involvement will only lead to a loss of overall quality and an increase in government involvement in the lives of people who neither need nor desire it.
Or take border control. Many people see those coming over the border illegally, fleeing desperate poverty and sending massive amounts of money home to wives, children, and parents, and shudder at the idea of treating them like bank robbers and burglars. Others are shocked both by the immigrants disregard of the law and their governments indifference to enforcing it. They see thousands of people streaming over the border, adding to the millions already here, and worry what the effect of such a large group of people will be on a country they care deeply about.
Of course, in a country as large as the U.S. there is room for a variety of viewpoints. One great American strength is the ability of differing, even contradictory, views to coexist peacefully—so long as each party believes that the other has the country’s best interests at heart. But it is exactly this faith that is currently in short supply. The problem is not that the two sides disagree, but that there is mutual incomprehension. That black divide is a fertile breeding group for suspicion and animosity. And there, as Auden said, yawns a divide that embraces cannot bridge.
This rancor and partisanship has not gone unnoticed. To the contrary, both its amount and its severity have been commented upon extensively. What has received less attention is what should be done about it. When Evan Bayh, a giant of the Senate, retired he identified the extreme level of partisanship as a cause and suggested that monthly luncheons of each parties Senators could alleviate some of the ill will. While that suggestion surely has merit, it’s worth considering whether there are other, more fundamental issues that have to be addressed.
Indeed, it is worth asking whether or not certain facets of our democracy are partially to blame. One culprit could be gerrymandering. In many states, the party in power redraws the voting districts every ten years to include populations it knows support their views. This not only makes elections less competitive, it also makes politicians less compromising. After all, if your most serious reelection challenge is likely to come from the radical elements within your own party, why provide ammunition for a sharp primary battle by crossing party lines?
Another possible offender is the primary voting system itself. For the majority of the history of the Republic, primaries didn’t exist. Indeed, even when Robert Kennedy ran for President in 1968 only sixteen states held them. Though they have come to be a settled part of our electoral landscape there has been little public discussion of whether their overall effect has positive. It’s settled political strategy to move to the left or right during a primary campaign and then to move to the center for the general election. But why should we countenance a system that requires a candidate to espouse one set of views to one group and then requires them to give a different account of their views to another group only shortly thereafter, thereby practically requiring deception? Is it any surprise, then, that there has been a push for unwaveringly pure candidates that disdain compromise and who, once elected, will surely serve only to further the partisan gridlock that already consumes our capital?
I don’t mean to suggest that these are the only, or even the foremost causes for the acrimony that currently dominates our public debate. I do suggest that the current acrimony has deep structural roots that need to be addressed. When the tide comes back in it will be easy to put these divisions out of mind. But the water only conceals, it does not repair. If we fail to act, then when the tide goes out again, we are likely to find that our situation has worsened considerably.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
CIFTA
When a drug cartel offers to make a “truce” with a national government, there is good cause for concern. When the citizens of that country are disappointed when the government fails to take them up on the offer, there is cause for outright alarm.
A truce is, of course, just what the now-notorious La Familia cartel in Mexico’s Michoacán state recently offered to the Mexican government. And this after the cartel responded to the arrest of one of their top men by murdering twelve off-duty Federal agents and going on a shooting rampage through multiple cities. The disappointment has not come to pass, yet. President Calderón’s war on the cartels remains popular among Mexicans. But, following recent midterm election losses by the President’s party, there is concern that the ongoing war on the cartels, which has led to the loss of almost 13,000 lives, is starting to wear.
Faced with this scenario, and a very public acknowledgment by President Obama of the negative international effects of the United States’ drug problem, the U.S. has struggled for an effective way to assist countries combating the drug trade. One answer is the three year, $1.5 billion dollar Mérida Initiative, which was passed by Congress last year. Another is the Inter-American Convention Against Illicit Manufacturing of and Trafficking in Firearms (known as CIFTA for its Spanish initials) that President Obama recently urged the Senate to gives its advice and consent to.
But what exactly is CIFTA? As its title indicates, it is a treaty meant to address the manufacturing and trafficking of firearms through greater collaboration among the 34 members of the Organization of American States, which is comprised of the nations of North and South America. The heart of the treaty calls for increases in the exchange of information, experiences and training methods, and technical and legal assistance, and also provides an independent basis for extradition. The treaty specifically contemplates “controlled delivery” operations, where a country knowingly allows illegal items to pass through it in order to identify as many people involved in the transfer as possible, including, ultimately, the end buyers.
All well so far. But the treaty does suffer from some conceptual and practical problems. For instance, it calls for the marking of each legally manufactured weapon in order to facilitate the tracking of illegal arm flow, which is something the U.S. already does. But, a much-cited statistic of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms estimates that 90% of the illegal firearms in Mexico originate in the United States. And logic dictates that most of those weapons are coming from states bordering Mexico. While there is certainly information to be gained from finding out the exact routes the weapons take and where they ultimately end up, the basic trajectory is not in question: the guns flow South.
Another provision of CIFTA calls for “Strengthening of Controls at Export Points.” CIFTA is silent on the best way to bring this about, which is unfortunate because how best to strengthen border controls is a topic of constant debate within the U.S. and between the U.S. and Mexico. Creating a legal obligation will not make it any easier to improve border security without impeding trade, causing offense, or creating environmental disruption and it seems curious to undertake an obligation without a clear idea of how it will be achieved.
Finally, while increased cooperation among states on technical and legal matters is generally to be lauded, it’s worth asking how much assistance the U.S. will be receiving versus contributing, and what the ultimate costs of the treaty will be to the U.S. taxpayer. How has the treaty operated up to this point? If it hasn’t operated well, or hasn’t operated period, the case for the U.S. joining seems weakened.
None of this is to say that the U.S. should not ultimately join CIFTA. The ongoing violence in Mexico is shocking and has created something approaching a moral imperative regarding increased U.S. involvement. CIFTA’s advocates argue that ratifying the treaty would be a strong sign of solidarity with neighboring nations in the fight against the cartels. But there are ways to signal support without creating binding international obligations.
Why a treaty, and specifically CIFTA, is the tool for the job is the question at hand. And, it is a question that needs answering sooner rather than later.
A truce is, of course, just what the now-notorious La Familia cartel in Mexico’s Michoacán state recently offered to the Mexican government. And this after the cartel responded to the arrest of one of their top men by murdering twelve off-duty Federal agents and going on a shooting rampage through multiple cities. The disappointment has not come to pass, yet. President Calderón’s war on the cartels remains popular among Mexicans. But, following recent midterm election losses by the President’s party, there is concern that the ongoing war on the cartels, which has led to the loss of almost 13,000 lives, is starting to wear.
Faced with this scenario, and a very public acknowledgment by President Obama of the negative international effects of the United States’ drug problem, the U.S. has struggled for an effective way to assist countries combating the drug trade. One answer is the three year, $1.5 billion dollar Mérida Initiative, which was passed by Congress last year. Another is the Inter-American Convention Against Illicit Manufacturing of and Trafficking in Firearms (known as CIFTA for its Spanish initials) that President Obama recently urged the Senate to gives its advice and consent to.
But what exactly is CIFTA? As its title indicates, it is a treaty meant to address the manufacturing and trafficking of firearms through greater collaboration among the 34 members of the Organization of American States, which is comprised of the nations of North and South America. The heart of the treaty calls for increases in the exchange of information, experiences and training methods, and technical and legal assistance, and also provides an independent basis for extradition. The treaty specifically contemplates “controlled delivery” operations, where a country knowingly allows illegal items to pass through it in order to identify as many people involved in the transfer as possible, including, ultimately, the end buyers.
All well so far. But the treaty does suffer from some conceptual and practical problems. For instance, it calls for the marking of each legally manufactured weapon in order to facilitate the tracking of illegal arm flow, which is something the U.S. already does. But, a much-cited statistic of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms estimates that 90% of the illegal firearms in Mexico originate in the United States. And logic dictates that most of those weapons are coming from states bordering Mexico. While there is certainly information to be gained from finding out the exact routes the weapons take and where they ultimately end up, the basic trajectory is not in question: the guns flow South.
Another provision of CIFTA calls for “Strengthening of Controls at Export Points.” CIFTA is silent on the best way to bring this about, which is unfortunate because how best to strengthen border controls is a topic of constant debate within the U.S. and between the U.S. and Mexico. Creating a legal obligation will not make it any easier to improve border security without impeding trade, causing offense, or creating environmental disruption and it seems curious to undertake an obligation without a clear idea of how it will be achieved.
Finally, while increased cooperation among states on technical and legal matters is generally to be lauded, it’s worth asking how much assistance the U.S. will be receiving versus contributing, and what the ultimate costs of the treaty will be to the U.S. taxpayer. How has the treaty operated up to this point? If it hasn’t operated well, or hasn’t operated period, the case for the U.S. joining seems weakened.
None of this is to say that the U.S. should not ultimately join CIFTA. The ongoing violence in Mexico is shocking and has created something approaching a moral imperative regarding increased U.S. involvement. CIFTA’s advocates argue that ratifying the treaty would be a strong sign of solidarity with neighboring nations in the fight against the cartels. But there are ways to signal support without creating binding international obligations.
Why a treaty, and specifically CIFTA, is the tool for the job is the question at hand. And, it is a question that needs answering sooner rather than later.
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