Did Mike Huckabee lead a coup?

Sandy Levinson

In 1993, Huckabee won a special election for lieutenant governor. Then, in 1996, Gov. Jim Guy Tucker was convicted on federal charges of fraud and conspiracy in events relating to the Whitewater scandal.

What happened next is related in the first 31 pages of ‘‘Character Makes a Difference.’’ This is Huckabee’s ‘‘Profiles in Courage’’ (if J.F.K. had been writing autobiography). He gives the book to reporters as a testament to his skill at crisis management. The crisis in question took place on July 15, 1996. Governor Tucker was supposed to resign, and Huckabee was scheduled to be sworn in at 2 p.m. But at 1:55, Tucker called to say that he had changed his mind. He wasn’t quitting.

This was ‘‘arguably the greatest constitutional crisis in Arkansas history,’’ Huckabee writes, as though his state never seceded from the Union or had its capital’s high school forcibly integrated by the 101st Airborne. Still, Tucker’s change of heart was a big moment. As Huckabee recalls it, the Arkansas State Legislature fell into chaos. ‘‘Many of the old-time Democrats all but fell on the floor and ripped their garments in twain. . . . Keeping your word is a sacred thing in Arkansas.’’ When it became clear that garment-rending wouldn’t get Tucker to go away quietly, Huckabee took direct action. He addressed the people in a statewide telecast, informing them that he was now in control; he threatened impeachment proceedings against Tucker; state troopers were mobilized to protect the capital. All this activity had the desired effect. Tucker re-resigned. In fact, the whole affair was wrapped up by the 6 o’clock news.

To put it mildly, there is much of interest in this, besides the obtuseness that Huckabee displays about what might be called comparative "constitutional crises" in Arkansas history. It appears that Tucker had only promised to resign (like Larry Craig), but in fact never made what J.L. Austin would call the "performative utterance" that constitutes the act of resigning (again like Larry Craig). Perhaps he should have (like Larry Craig?), but he didn't. (It's like the groom-to-be who, up to the very last moment, leads everyone to believe that he will take his vows, but then decides not to. He may be a lout, but he's not married. Ditto, Tucker. Until he says "I resign" or is impeached, he remains governor.

Unlike the Governor of Idaho, who has made no effort to declare the Senate seat vacant, Huckabee, if Chafets is correct in his description, declared, like Al Haig after the attempt on Ronald Reagan's life, that "he was now in control" and, astonishingly, mobilized state troopers "to protect the capital." What possible reason could be given for this? Was Jim Guy, like a latter-day Daniel Shays, threatening to mobilize his supporters for an armed march on the capital. (Incidentally, should it be "capital"--i.e., Little Rock--or "capitol," which would presumably refer on to a particular building in Little Rock?)

In an earlier post, I indicated that Huckabee, along with Ron Paul and John McCain, merited respect. I'm beginning to wonder. I strongly urge that one read Ken Anderson's remarkable article in the Weekly Standard (which I will write about at greater length anon), which is aptly subtitled The deeply dispiriting Romney-Huckabee religion showdown. I think that Huckabee, for all of his charm and willingness actually to say some cogent things about immigration and the "arrogance" of the Bush Administration, may well be the most theocratic candidate in our history (not to mention the most scientifically illiterate). But beyond this, shouldn't we know more about the "crisis" of July 15, 1996, and why Huckabee is so proud of his response to it? Some of us believe that Rudy Giuliani is frighteningly authoritarian. Just imagine what our response would be if he were described as declaring in similar circumstances "I'm in control" and calling out the police. Is it possible that Huckabee could, under the right circumstances, give Rudy a run for his money with regard to (dis)respect for law (and its limits)? It is possible, of course, that Chafets is wrong. But maybe he isn't.