I’m going to begin this column with a rather unusual reading
recommendation. If you’ve got an afternoon to kill and want to read 126 pages
of heavily footnoted legal argument and historical analysis, I strongly
recommend a law review article entitled “The
Sweep and Force of Section Three.” It’s a rather dull
headline for a highly provocative argument: that Donald Trump is
constitutionally disqualified from holding the office of president.
In the article, two respected conservative law professors, William
Baude and Michael Stokes Paulsen, make the case that the text, history and
tradition of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment — a post-Civil War amendment that
prohibited former public officials from holding office again if they “engaged
in insurrection or rebellion” or gave “aid or comfort” to those who did — all
strongly point to the conclusion that Trump is ineligible for the presidency
based on his actions on and related to Jan. 6, 2021. Barring a two-thirds
congressional amnesty vote, Trump’s ineligibility, Baude and Paulsen argue, is
as absolute as if he were too young to be president or were not a natural-born
citizen of the United States.
It’s a fascinating and compelling argument that only grows more
compelling with each painstakingly researched page. But as I was reading it, a
single, depressing thought came to my mind. Baude and Paulsen’s argument may
well represent the single most rigorous and definitive explanation of Section 3
ever put to paper, yet it’s difficult to imagine, at this late date, the
Supreme Court ultimately either striking Trump from the ballot or permitting
state officials to do so.
As powerful as Baude and Paulsen’s substantive argument is, the
late date means that by the time any challenge to Trump’s eligibility might
reach the Supreme Court, voters may have already started voting in the
Republican primaries. Millions of votes could have been cast. The Supreme Court
is already reluctant
to change election procedures on the eve of an
election. How eager would it be to remove a candidate from the ballot after
he’s perhaps even clinched a primary?
While I believe the court shouldintervene even if
the hour is late, it’s worth remembering that it would face this decision only
because of the comprehensive failure of congressional Republicans. Let me be
specific. There was never any way to remove Trump from American politics
through the Democratic Party alone. Ending Trump’s political career required
Republican cooperation, and Republicans have shirked their constitutional
duties, sometimes through sheer cowardice. They have punted their
responsibilities to other branches of government or simply shrunk back in fear
of the consequences.
In hindsight, for example, Republican inaction after Jan. 6
boggles the mind. Rather than remove Trump from American politics by convicting
him in the Senate after his second impeachment, Republicans punted their
responsibilities to the American legal system. As
Mitch McConnell said when he voted to acquit Trump, “We
have a criminal justice system in this country.” Yet not even a successful
prosecution and felony conviction — on any of the charges against him, in any
of the multiple venues — can disqualify Trump from serving as president.
Because of G.O.P. cowardice, our nation is genuinely facing the possibility of
a president’s taking the oath of office while also appealing one or more substantial
prison sentences.
Republicans have also punted to the American voters, suggesting
that any outstanding questions of Trump’s fitness be decided at the ballot box.
It’s a recommendation with some real appeal. (In his most recent newsletter, my
colleague Ross Douthat makes a powerful case that only politics can solve the
problem of Donald Trump.) “Give the people what they want” is a core element of
democratic politics, and if enough people “want” Trump, then who are American
politicians or judges to deprive them? Yet the American founders (and the
drafters of the 14th Amendment) also knew the necessity of occasionally
checking the popular will, and the Constitution thus contains a host of
safeguards designed to protect American democracy from majorities run amok.
After all, if voting alone were sufficient to protect America from
insurrectionist leaders, there would have been no need to draft or ratify
Section 3.
Why are Republicans in Congress punting to voters and the legal
system? For many of them, the answer lies in raw fear. First, there is the
simple political fear of losing a House or Senate seat. In polarized,
gerrymandered America, all too many Republican politicians face political risk
only from their right, and that “right” appears to be overwhelmingly
populated by Trumpists.
But there’s another fear as well, that imposing accountability
will only escalate American political division, leading to a tit-for-tat of
prosecuted or disqualified politicians. This fear is sometimes difficult to
take seriously. For example, conservative podcaster Ben Shapiro raised it, arguing that “running for
office now carries the legal risk of going to jail — on all sides.” Yet he had
himself written an entire book calling for racketeering charges against Barack
Obama.
That said, the idea that vengeful MAGA Republicans might prosecute
Democrats out of spite is credible enough to raise concerns outside the
infotainment right. Michael McConnell, a conservative professor I admire a
great deal (and one who is no fan of Donald Trump), expressed
concern about the Section 3 approach to disqualifying Trump. “I
worry that this approach could empower partisans to seek disqualification every
time a politician supports or speaks in support of the objectives of a
political riot,” he wrote, adding, “Imagine how bad actors will use this
theory.”
In other words, Trump abused America once, and the fear is that if
we hold him accountable, he or his allies will abuse our nation again. I think
Professor McConnell’s warnings are correct. Trump and his allies are already
advertising their plans for revenge. But if past practice is any guide, Trump
and his allies will abuse our nation whether we hold him accountable or
not. The abuse is the constant reality of Trump and the movement he
leads. Accountability is the variable — dependent on the courage and will of
key American leaders — and only accountability has any real hope of stopping
the abuse.
A fundamental reality of human existence is that vice often leaves
virtue with few good options. Evil men can attach catastrophic risks to virtually
any course of action, however admirable. But we can and should learn lessons
from history. George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, two of our greatest
presidents, both faced insurrectionary movements, and their example should
teach us today. When Washington faced
an open revolt during the Whiskey
Rebellionin 1794, he didn’t appease the rebels, instead mobilizing
overwhelming force to meet the moment and end the threat.
In 1861, Lincoln rejected
advice to abandon Fort Sumter in South Carolina in the hope of
avoiding direct confrontation with the nascent Confederate Army. Instead, he
ordered the Navy to resupply the fort. The Confederates bombarded Sumter and
launched the deadliest war in American history, but there was no point at which
Lincoln was going to permit rebels to blackmail the United States into
extinction.
If you think the comparisons to the Whiskey Rebellion or the Civil
War are overwrought, just consider the consequences had Trump’s plan succeeded.
I have previously described Jan. 6 as “America’s
near-death day” for good reason. If Mike Pence had declared Trump the victor —
or even if the certification of the election had been delayed — one shudders to
consider what would have happened next. We would have faced the possibility of
two presidents’ being sworn in at once, with the Supreme Court (and ultimately
federal law enforcement, or perhaps even the Army) being tasked with deciding which
one was truly legitimate.
Thankfully, the American legal
system has worked well enough to knock the MAGA
movement on its heels. Hundreds of Jan. 6 rioters face
criminal justice. The movement’s corrupt lawyers face their own days in court.
Trump is indicted in four jurisdictions. Yet all of that work can be undone —
and every triumph will turn to defeat — if a disqualified president reclaims
power in large part through the fear of his foes.
But the story of Washington and Lincoln doesn’t stop with their
decisive victories. While 10 members of the Whiskey Rebellion were tried for
treason, only two were convicted, and Washington ultimately pardoned them both.
On the eve of final victory, Lincoln’s second Inaugural Address contained words
of grace that echo through history, “With malice toward none, with charity for
all.”
Victory is not incompatible with mercy, and mercy can be
indispensable after victory. But while the threat remains, so must the resolve,
even if it means asking the Supreme Court to intervene at the worst possible
time. Let me end where I began. Read Baude and Paulsen — and not just for their
compelling legal argument. Read and remember what it was like when people of
character and conviction inhabited the American political class. They have
given us the tools to defend the American experiment. All we need is the will.
-NYTimes
David French is an Opinion columnist. He is a veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom and a former constitutional litigator. His most recent book is “Divided We Fall: America’s Secession Threat and How to Restore Our Nation.” @DavidAFrench
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