The Constitution of Learning
On September 16, 2005, following instructions from a joint resolution of Congress, George W. Bush issued a new proclamation designating September 17th as 'Constitution Day and Citizenship Day.' The president went on to “encourage Federal, State, and local officials, as well as leaders of civic, social, and educational organizations, to conduct ceremonies and programs that celebrate our Constitution and reaffirm our rights and obligations as citizens of our great Nation.”
The Department of Education specified that “educational institutions receiving federal funding are required to hold an educational program pertaining to the United States Constitution on September 17 of each year.” But absent more precise guidelines, the definition of “educational program” has remained rather open to interpretation, with institutions implementing the directive as they see fit.
Philosophically, the holiday has inspired some interesting controversies, as illustrated by a brief search of “Constitution Day” on the internet. While some have lauded the idea as a welcome occasion for civic education, others have taken issue with its coercive aspect (i.e., non-participating institutions can theoretically lose federal funding) and/or the injunction to “celebrate” the Constitution per se. In one particularly provocative article, Neal Rosendorf, a professor from the NMSU main campus, argues that, “Constitution Day Is a Sham Because the Constitution is a Failure.” (Chief among this author’s grievances is the stubborn tenacity of the electoral college, an institution exemplifying the framers’ antimajoritarian tendencies.)
If Constitution Day were intended to promote a blind reverence for the original document, then its critics may have a point. Like the men who created it, the Constitution was partially a product of its time, reflecting social inequalities at odds with our modern democratic values. For example, while the word “slavery” was absent from the Constitution, the document nonetheless institutionalized its practice with the notorious “three-fifths compromise” from Article 1, Section 2. As the Delaware delegate, John Dickinson, observed, “The omitting of the Word will be regarded as an endeavor to conceal a principle of which we are ashamed.”
In the tradition of Plato and Aristotle – and having recently witnessed popular insurrections like Shay’s Rebellion – the framers of the Constitution were keen to forestall the perceived specter of “majoritarian tyranny.” The structure of the new government was therefore designed to tilt power towards established elites, while “preserving the spirit and form of popular government” (James Madison). For example, the sixyear, staggered terms of senators were calculated to insulate the senate from any “excess of democracy” (Elbridge Gerry), as was the indirect election of senators by state legislatures as stipulated in the original text (Article 1, Section 3).
And yet, a basis for the rectification of these institutional flaws was provided by the Constitution itself, as codified in Article V. The “threefifths compromise” was legally mooted by the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments, which abolished slavery, proclaimed equal protection under the law, and granted freedmen the right to vote, respectively. Later, the 17th Amendment transferred the election of senators from the state legislatures to the people themselves. (There is much, much more to these stories, of course, but I must proceed for brevity’s sake!)
In a letter dated October 10, 1787, George Washington wrote the following words of wisdom: “The Constitution that is submitted, is not free from imperfections; but there are as few radical defects in it as could well be expected, considering the heterogeneous mass of which the Convention was composed— and the diversity of interests which were to be reconciled. A Constitutional door being opened, for future alterations and amendments, I think it would be wise in the People to adopt what is offered to them.”
Some Americans may regard the Constitution as a sacred document to be treated reverentially, while others have maligned it for its original flaws. But perhaps both of these impulses miss the true essence of the Constitution as a mechanism designed to balance political stability and evolution. At the end of the day, the Constitutional process embodies our collective freedom to make mistakes (e.g., the 19th Amendment) and correct them (e.g., the 21st Amendment). In the case of Prohibition, crime soared, revenue diminished, and the flawed social experiment was eventually brought to a felicitous end. I can drink to that.
Indeed, however one ultimately evaluates our Constitutional heritage, Constitution Day presents an opportunity to learn, which is never a bad thing. We can and should “celebrate” our Constitution, first and foremost, by familiarizing ourselves with it, and then by reflecting on its implications for the past, present, and future. In a lovely paradox, even the most vociferous criticism of the Constitution pays tribute to the premise that inspired its First Amendment: that a free society depends on vigorous public debate.
If you would like to learn a bit more about our Constitution in a fun/casual setting, please join us for a game of Constitution Day Trivia, this Wednesday at noon, in the Cyber-Lounge at NMSU Grants Community College.
P.S. As for the electoral college, I continue to appreciate the arguments against it. With respect to presidential elections (and depending on how one crunches the numbers), Professor Rosendorf notes that a Wyomingite has between 3.18 to 57 times more voting power than a Californian. That seems a bit unfair, but – now that I reside in the relatively low-population state of New Mexico – I find myself inclined to argue that the electoral college can’t be all bad.