The founders of the United States, as exemplified,
first, by the Declaration of Independence, and through the ratification
of the Bill of Rights, followed a federalist model for defining
individual rights. Americans today, as
the inheritors of that founding commitment as expressed in those documents, are
bound by a living oath: a commitment which
is the basis of the nation’s communal ownership of what was created and
includes a defined bond within the citizenry.
That
national federal commitment is built upon layers of covenantal agreements from
local municipalities to the nation’s constitutional union. As Professor Daniel Elazar points out, the
nation is thoroughly federal in the operation of the government. As such, the nation’s citizens have
responsibilities. The theory encourages
citizens to participate, not merely receive the benefits of society and its government.
It is in relation to these elements that a
distinctive type of rights and liberties should be delineated. Federal liberty emphasizes freedom to meet
the responsibility one has to the community in which one lives:
Americans
early became socialized into a kind of federalistic [sic] individualism, that
is to say, not the anarchistic individualism of Latin countries, but an
individualism that recognized the subtle bonds of partnership linking
individuals even as they preserve their individual integrities … American
society becomes a web of individual and communal partnership in which people
link with one another to accomplish common purposes or to create a common
environment … without falling into collectivism or allowing individualism to
degenerate into anarchy.[1]
The purpose, therefore, is to engage the
individual in a non-central, national matrix of partnership, i.e., a national
arrangement in which there is no single locus of power, but one in which there
are multiple loci of power.
Michael
Sandel, in his historical analysis of national development up until the late
New Deal era,[2]
emphasizes the concerns of American leaders and how they recurrently argued for
social policy that was conducive to locally defined self-governance. As in healthy partnerships, the individual
obliges him/herself to the explicit commitment entailed with shared ownership
or self-governance while maintaining his/her personal integrity and
self-defined personage.
But
such descriptions might lead the reader to think this blog portrays earlier
Americans as model citizens always disposed to meet their responsibilities of
upholding the common good. And beyond
that, since federalism no longer dominates American idealistic thinking, they currently
are people who care little for that common good.
Both claims are false. As for current day Americans, as these words
are written, reports of the devasted areas in Kentucky and the surrounding
states, have shown an outpouring of help.
This type of response is usually the case when such calamities as the recent
chain of tornados occur.
As
for the nation’s forebears, total commitment toward others is also an
overstatement – one should remember, what this blog is reporting and promoting
are espoused values, not necessarily values-in-use. To begin with, the common good has taken
various definitional guises. And the
nation’s history provides countless accounts reflecting that diversity.
Louis Menand,[3]
in his account of pragmatism during the 1800s, tells of an insightful story –
one that demonstrates how racial attitudes and slavery challenged federal
values in those years. The account
demonstrates an intertwined set of challenges facing Americans in the
antebellum years.
The
story, in part, is about three blacks in 1853 who sought admission to Harvard’s
medical program. Two were sponsored by an
organized group that was working for blacks to be emigrated back to Liberia –
where many early slave traders acquired the original Africans who became slaves
in America.
Their plan was to emigrate educated blacks to
Africa so that they could help modernize (ala 1800s standards) Liberia. Two of these blacks promised they would
voluntarily leave to go to Africa. The
third made it clear he intended to practice medicine in the US. There was also, at the same time, the first
woman to be admitted to the medical program.
Objecting
to the admissions, the students of Harvard protested – seemingly more upset that
a woman was being admitted – and proceeded to ostracize the black students. This revolt intensified and eventually led to
all four students not continuing their matriculation at Harvard. The admitting official of these students was
none other than Oliver Wendall Holmes, who would become a renowned jurist.
Initially, not seeing anything wrong with the
admissions but then confronted with the resistance, Holmes went along with the
student body’s wishes and allowed the exclusion of these students. All that is known about his thinking was that
he personally didn’t see anything wrong with their admission but deferred to
the objections of the student body.
One of the black students went to Dartmouth where
he earned his degree, one went to a hospital to get his training, and one
stayed in the Boston area thinking the abolitionist advocates would provide
enough protection – the woman withdrew her application upon the advice of the
professors. But at that time, there was
another development in Boston, and it affected other blacks in that area.
The local abolitionist group was also actively trying
to protect a married couple of escaped slaves.
They were being hunted by federal agents authorized by the Fugitive
Slave Law of 1850.[4] The abolitionists ushered two agents out of
Boston who were actively trying to capture the married couple. These were organized private citizens protecting
these blacks.
In addition, in 1851, private citizens
overwhelmed marshals who were holding an escaped slave who was a waiter in a
local eatery and, in effect, freed him.
At the same time, it took a force of 300-armed people to escort a seventeen-year-old
escaped slave to a ship in Boston harbor to transport him back to his slave
owner. Despite all these developments
among the abolitionists, none of them protested the treatment of the black
medical students or that of the woman (it took until 1945 for a woman to be
admitted to Harvard medical school).
Menand points out,
… Delany
[one of the black medical students] concluded that antislavery activists were
more offended by the notion of Southerners presuming to send their agents into
Northern cities to retrieve their “property” than they were by discrimination
against any particular black in their midst.
And he was not wrong. For the
politics of slavery in antebellum Boston was a complicated business.[5]
And how does the individual fit into such a
complicated landscape? What this seems
to indicate is that as one delves into the particulars of historical events,
they evade grand descriptors of an age. They
are usually convoluted and often demonstrate conflicting values concerning
individualism, individual rights, and local engagement. All are central concerns of federal theory.
With
these developments that took place years after the founding of the nation’s
government, one should consider the dilemma posed by Charles-Louis Montesquieu. That is, how does one maintain and foster a
supportive citizenry in a republic as the republic becomes larger? According to Montesquieu, as a republic
becomes larger with its inherent freedom, it would find it more difficult to
socialize its people to be loyal to a republic.[6]
For example, how republican were the motives of
the engaged Bostonians in protecting or attempting to protect the individual
rights of those students and other blacks from being enslaved or being subject to
other discriminating practices? Do those
cases exemplify the concerns of the French philosopher, or do they reflect
James Madison’s prediction relating to “bigness?”
In Federalist No. 10, Madison argued
that only through a larger, extended republic does a society create the
necessary number of factions in a system of competition to offset the
detrimental effects of a single or a limited number of interest groups. But Madison never addressed the issue of
socialization, i.e., how the society, committed to self-rule, imparts to the
younger generation the zeal for federalist or republican values as the polity
grows and decision-making becomes further remote from the governed.
How familiar, for example, were Congressional
decision makers of Bostonians’ dispositions in passing the Fugitive Slave Act. It can be hypothesized here that the
countervailing force which can maintain a large republic and at the same time
encourage the socialization of supportive values is a general adherence to
federalist values.
But those values must be genuinely felt and viable
within the populous. That perspective encourages
among the citizenry a local, communal orientation and is expressed through the
nation’s social discourse and action. It
seems that Boston, among certain segments of its population in those antebellum
years, had a strong sense of a communal orientation. Within that view a strong sense of individualism
– as defined by federalism, not natural rights[7]
– held sway.
It bolsters what Robert Putnam calls “social
capital.”[8] As such, federalism should, in a realistic
fashion, become the paradigm organizing the questions and content presented in
the nation’s dealing with government and politics and it should be the basis for
promoting communal ideals in the nation’s public-school classrooms and within their
curricula.
[1]
Daniel J.
Elazar, “Federal Models of (Civil) Authority,” Journal of Church and State, 33, (Spring, 1991), 10-11.
[2]
Michael
J. Sandel, Democracy's
Discontent: America in Search of a Public Philosophy (Cambridge, MA: The
Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1996).
[3]
Louis Menand, The Metaphysical Club: A Story of Ideas in America (New York,
NY: Farrar, Status, and Giroux, 2001).
[4] This law
required that people in free states had to return escaped slaves to their
owners. Those responsible to capture and
return the slaves were federal agents.
[5] Menand, The Metaphysical Club, 9.
[6] See Martin Diamond, “The Ends of Federalism,” in The
Reluctant Pillar, ed. Stephen L. Schechter (Troy,
NY: Russell Sage College, 1985), 16-23.
[7] As regular readers of this blog can describe, natural
rights view defines individualism as divorced from communal needs or demands. See Charles Taylor, “Atomism,” in Communitarianism
and Individualism, eds. Shlomo Avineri and Avner de-Shalit (New York,
NY: Oxford University Press, 1992),
29-50 AND Jeffrey Reiman, “Liberalism and Its Critics,” in The Liberalism-Communitarianism Debate,
ed. C. F. Delaney (Lanhan, MD: Rowman
and Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 1994), 19-37.
[8]
As used and defined by the political scientist,
Robert Putnam, who defines social capital as a societal quality characterized by having an
active, public-spirited citizenry, egalitarian political relations, and a
social environment of trust and cooperation; it speaks to communal bonds and
cooperative interactions. See Robert D.
Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and
Revival of American Community (New York, NY: Simon & Schuster, 2000).
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