My article “Optimistic
Originalism and the Reconstruction Amendments” engages with two distinct bodies
of scholarship – law review commentary on the Reconstruction amendments and recent
accounts of the Civil War and Reconstruction by historians. In my last post, I discussed how to define
the gap between how originalists and historians approach the past, especially
in light of Heller and Jack Balkin’s Living Originalism. In this post, I broaden my focus to reflect
on legal scholarship on the Reconstruction amendments as a whole, whether self-consciously
originalist or not.
If you have ever been to the
original Disneyland in Anaheim or the “Magic Kingdom” at Walt Disney World in
Orlando, you enter the park to find yourself in a defined area called “Main
Street, U.S.A.” In part, Main Street is
a recreation of Walt Disney’s actual hometown of Marceline, Missouri. I understand Marceline is very small, but in
its late nineteenth-century Victorian architecture, it is probably similar to
many such Midwestern towns, including the town in Kansas where I grew up. There are large porches, gables, and
turrets. Of course, it is not a real town. No one lives there.
Since the late twentieth
century, legal scholarship on Reconstruction has pursued a determinedly (and increasingly determined) “optimistic” path, as I term it in the article. Indeed, this optimistic trend now extends to
all three Reconstruction amendments. There
are multiple law review symposia not only with respect to the promises of section
one of the Fourteenth Amendment, but the Thirteenth as well. Likewise, there are some reasonably
optimistic articles on the Fifteenth Amendment.
Yet in this somewhat dogged pursuit
of optimism about Reconstruction, legal scholarship risks creating a kind of scholarly
Disneyland, an idealized recreation of the past.
This is not because legal scholars have entirely
ignored the reasons for Reconstruction’s failure to guarantee meaningful rights
for African Americans and women, although these reasons are typically left
vague in the midst of incredibly detailed discussions of the meaning of, for
example, “privileges or immunities.” It
is because these reasons are not treated as related to the Constitution itself. The failure of Reconstruction gets attributed
to the motivations of politicians, the politics and economic developments of
the time, especially after President Grant took office in 1869, and a general
waning of enthusiasm among northern whites.
I have been increasingly puzzled
by the differences between the idealized world created, however inadvertently,
by able and energetic legal scholars and the often terrible dilemmas posed
during Reconstruction by what I see as clear conflicts among constitutional
values – at least, nineteenth-century constitutional values. These dilemmas are well illustrated in recent
studies by historically-minded scholars such as Pamela Brandwein, Laura Edwards, Gregory Downs, Mark Summers, and Cynthia Nicoletti. One danger is that legal scholars typically
concentrate on just a few Republicans such as John Bingham and Jacob Howard. Thaddeus Stevens, who was actually the leader
of House Republicans and Senate leaders such as Lyman Trumbull and William Pitt
Fessenden are not much in evidence in the law reviews.
Another related problem which
the leading legal historian William Nelson warned of many years ago is reading
Reconstruction in light of the issues we care about instead of the issues
Republicans in Congress cared about. I
anticipate that a forthcoming work by Mark Graber will speak very directly to
this problem. Perhaps the leading
example is that there is virtually nothing in the law review literature about
an issue which was perceived at the time as absolutely critical to the entire project
of Reconstruction, including the new amendments – the terms of the readmission
of the former Confederate states. In
theory, Republicans could have used readmission as an enormous incentive for
southern states to combat white violence and the white southern insurgency
effectively. In practice, they confronted
a question we mostly choose not to ask.
Put bluntly, should racists have the right to vote? If the process of denying the right to vote
to many whites would serially and seriously violate liberal, republican, and
democratic principles, should not the former Confederate states be admitted on
an equal basis, at least so long as the accept the results of the Civil War and
the legitimacy of the new amendments? Or
so Reconstruction Republicans reasoned.
But this is an issue they debated actively, particularly during the
readmission of Georgia, the last state to go through the process. Downs and Summers in particular point up the
importance of this debate and the differing views expressed among Republicans about
the prospect of refusing to readmit, as Georgia continued to have serious
racial problems (I’m sure many would say those problems continue!). In the end, Republicans like Trumbull, who Downs
refers to as an example of a “peacetime” Republican, did readmit
Georgia in 1870.
Here we reach a point that
affects optimistic originalist arguments on Reconstruction, notably Michael
McConnell’s famous argument that Brown is consistent with the Fourteenth
Amendment essentially because of congressional debates that occurred in 1870 and after with
respect to what became the 1875 Civil Rights Act. It is also the case, however, that during
this time the readmission of southern states influenced the subsequent course
of Reconstruction, arguably including how the amendments were interpreted. It is often said that through the
Constitution Americans work out conflicts that would be regarded as “political”
in other countries. In the context of
Reconstruction what this meant was that the views, including the constitutional
views, of white Democrats would increasingly be heard. In the article, I discuss several arguments
that were popular among both newly admitted southern Democrats and at least
conservative and moderate Republicans.
These arguments combined to limit the optimistic legal content and effect
of the Reconstruction amendments. They
included: (1) a continuing commitment to the structure of federalism or “states
rights”; (2) the distinction between civil, political, and social rights; (3)
the legally dependent status of certain groups of citizens such as women and children;
and (4) a continuing commitment to limited (non-centralized) government. I stress that these commitments were firmly regarded
by nearly all as a part of American constitutional law. In the view of many American citizens, the
Reconstruction amendments were not designed to change them.
The question then, is the relationship
of these commitments to the optimistic trend in legal scholarship. I will follow one thread here. Consider that one seemingly unnoticed similarity
between Reconstruction Republicans and some Republicans in the twentieth
century was the belief that voting rights were a key part of the solution to protecting
African-American legal rights. This
belief was featured not only in the debate on the Fifteenth Amendment, but throughout
the entire period of Reconstruction, as more and more Republicans came to believe
that African American males deserved the right to vote. I suggest that Republican Earl Warren shared
the belief of John Bingham in the words of Downs that “voting rights [were] the
ultimate prize.” In Reynolds v. Sims
Warren provided a rhetoric of voting rights for a new generation that proved
immensely influential – the idea that they were “preservative of other basic
civil and political rights.” So in
Warren’s world, voting rights came first.
But should we continue to trust the wisdom of Reconstruction Republicans
and Warren that the current language of the Constitution is adequate to the
challenges voting rights face? Many
accomplished scholars over the years have favored amending the Constitution to
create a truly national right to vote.
But as Eric Foner points out in his recent book The Second Founding
(a work I should note that is fairly optimistic by the standards I use here), this
is the path that Reconstruction Republicans rejected when they adopted the
constrained language of the Fifteenth Amendment. This is the point I try to make in the
article – Reconstruction had designed-in limits.
We should question optimistic
legal scholarship about Reconstruction. I
respectfully suggest the opposing view is not pessimism but skepticism about the
limits of constitutional change without substantial state-building and the
related need to improve our understanding of how constitutional change
occurs. Current legal scholarship seems
to assume we can uncontroversially transition or quickly time-jump from the world of the mid-nineteenth
century to our own. This has arguably
led to an overemphasis on the question of the proper definition of rights rather
than how rights can be meaningfully enforced by all three branches of
government, Congress in particular.
Furthermore, claims about
Reconstruction being a revolution or a second Founding need to be made with
caution, especially with respect to claims about the legal effect of the
Reconstruction amendments. However much
we might prefer differently, Lincoln and congressional Republican
Reconstructors were in an inherently different position than the eighteenth-century
“Founders.” They were amending a prior
order, an order that had elements, such as the four I identified above, that
were unusually sticky. Amending is
different from founding. And the
congressional Republican founders, unlike the original eighteenth-century
versions, did not stick around to see their vision through. Some of the leading members of the Joint
Committee on Reconstruction, for example, were not present for key episodes
that occurred in the Grant administration after the readmission of southern
states was completed. Stevens, of
course, died in 1868. Other reconstructors, by our standards mostly able politicos, moved on to other things. One career none
of them pursued was to be associate justice of the Supreme Court. Moreover, by our standards, they did not provide much
of a roadmap for the rights they created.
Finally, I suggest the steady scholarly
push to see Reconstruction in an optimistic light has correspondingly dimmed
and diminished our vision of the enormous creative legal effort that was
required to get the Second Reconstruction off the ground in the mid-twentieth
century. Leaders such as Thurgood
Marshall and Martin Luther King, Jr. were not merely encumbered by the accumulated
weight of segregation and the unified opposition of southern white
officials. As Marshall later described
in his waning years on the Court, they were hobbled by the
Constitution itself, including the remnants of the four legal commitments I
mentioned above. We should not lose our
sense of the tremendous change brought by the developments of the twentieth
century by endorsing an optimistic take on Reconstruction, developments that are in some respects still playing out today.
In my next post, I will discuss the "sequencing argument," one of the main arguments I deploy against optimistic arguments grounded in the theory of original public meaning.
In my next post, I will discuss the "sequencing argument," one of the main arguments I deploy against optimistic arguments grounded in the theory of original public meaning.