American Institutions and Their Influence by Alexis de Tocqueville (most popular ebook readers .txt) 📕

For a long while before the appointed time is at hand, the election becomes the most important and the all-engrossing topic of discussion. The ardor of faction is redoubled; and all the artificial passions which the imagination can create in the bosom of a happy and peaceful land are agitated and brought to light.

The president, on the other hand, is absorbed by the cares of self-defence. He no longer governs for the interest of the state, but for that of his re-election; he does homage to the majority, and instead of checking its passions, as his duty commands him to do, he frequently courts its worst caprices. As the election draws near, the activity of intrigue and the agitation of the populace increase; the citizens are divided into several camps, each of which assumes the name of its favorite candidate; the whole nation glows with feverish excitement; the election is the daily theme of the public papers, the subject of private conversation, the end of every thought and every action, the sole interest of the present. As soon as the choice is determined, this ardor is dispelled; and as a calmer season returns, the current of the state, which has nearly broken its banks, sinks to its usual level; but who can refrain from astonishment at the causes of the storm?

When the Head of the executive Power is re-eligible, it is the State which is the Source of Intrigue and Corruption.—The desire of being re-elected, the chief Aim of a President of the United States.—Disadvantage of the System peculiar to America.—The natural Evil of Democracy is that it subordinates all Authority to the slightest Desires of the Majority.—The Re-election of the President encourages this Evil.

It may be asked whether the legislators of the United States did right or wrong in allowing the re-election of the president. It seems at first sight contrary to all reason to prevent the head of the executive power from being elected a second time. The influence which the talents and the character of a single individual may exercise upon the fate of a whole people, especially in critical circumstances or arduous times, is well known: a law preventing the re-election of the chief magistrate would deprive the citizens of the surest pledge of the prosperity and the security of the commonwealth; and, by a singular inconsistency, a man would be excluded from the government at the very time when he had shown his ability in conducting its affairs.

But if these arguments are strong, perhaps still more powerful reasons may be advanced against them. Intrigue and corruption are the natural defects of elective government; but when the head of the state can be re-elected, these evils rise to a great height, and compromise the very existence of the country. When a simple candidate seeks to rise by intrigue, his manoeuvres must necessarily be limited to a narrow sphere; but when the chief magistrate enters the lists, he borrows the strength of the government for his own purposes. In the former case the feeble resources of an individual are in action; in the latter, the state itself, with all its immense influence, is busied in the work of corruption and cabal. The private citizen, who employs the most immoral practices to acquire power, can only act in a manner indirectly prejudicial to the public prosperity. But if the representative of the executive descends into the lists, the cares of government dwindle into second-rate importance, and the success of his election is his first concern. All laws and negotiations are then to him nothing more than electioneering schemes; places become the reward of services rendered, not to the nation, but to its chief; and the influence of the government, if not injurious to the country, is at least no longer beneficial to the community for which it was created.

It is impossible to consider the ordinary course of affairs in the United States without perceiving that the desire of being re-elected is the chief aim of the president; that his whole administration, and even his most indifferent measures, tend to this object; and that, as the crisis approaches, his personal interest takes the place of his interest in the public good. The principle of re-eligibility renders the corrupt influence of elective governments still more extensive and pernicious. It tends to degrade the political morality of the people, and to substitute adroitness for patriotism.

In America it exercises a still more fatal influence on the sources of national existence. Every government seems to be afflicted by some evil inherent in its nature, and the genius of the legislator is shown in eluding its attacks. A state may survive the influence of a host of bad laws, and the mischief they cause is frequently exaggerated; but a law which encourages the growth of the canker within must prove fatal in the end, although its bad consequences may not be immediately perceived.

The principle of destruction in absolute monarchies lies in the excessive and unreasonable extension of the prerogative of the crown; and a measure tending to remove the constitutional provisions which counterbalance this influence would be radically bad, even if its consequences should long appear to be imperceptible. By a parity of reasoning, in countries governed by a democracy, where the people is perpetually drawing all authority to itself, the laws which increase or accelerate its action are the direct assailants of the very principle of the government.

The greatest proof of the ability of the American legislators is, that they clearly discerned this truth, and that they had the courage to act up to it. They conceived that a certain authority above the body of the people was necessary, which should enjoy a degree of independence, without however being entirely beyond the popular control; an authority which would be forced to comply with the permanent determinations of the majority, but which would be able to resist its caprices, and to refuse its most dangerous demands. To this end they centred the whole executive power of the nation in a single arm; they granted extensive prerogatives to the president, and they armed him with the veto to resist the encroachments of the legislature.

But by introducing the principle of re-election, they partly destroyed their work; and they rendered the president but little inclined to exert the great power they had invested in his hands.

If ineligible a second time, the president would be far from independent of the people, for his responsibility would not be lessened; but the favor of the people would not be so necessary to him as to induce him to court it by humoring its desires. If re-eligible (and this is more especially true at the present day, when political morality is relaxed, and when great men are rare), the president of the United States becomes an easy tool in the hands of the majority. He adopts its likings and its animosities, he hastens to anticipate its wishes, he forestalls its complaints, he yields to its idlest cravings, and instead of guiding it, as the legislature intended that he should do, he is ever ready to follow its bidding. Thus, in order not to deprive the state of the talents of an individual, those talents have been rendered almost useless, and to reserve an expedient for extraordinary perils the country has been exposed to daily dangers.

[The question of the propriety of leaving the president re-eligible, is one of that class which probably must for ever remain undecided. The author himself, ..., gives a strong reason for re-eligibility, “so that the chance of a prolonged administration may inspire him with hopeful undertakings for the public good, and with the means of carrying them into execution,”—considerations of great weight. There is an important fact bearing upon this question, which should be stated in connexion with it. President Washington established the practice of declining a third election, and every one of his successors, either from a sense of its propriety or from apprehensions of the force of public opinion, has followed the example. So that it has become as much a part of the constitution, that no citizen can be a third time elected president, as if it were expressed in that instrument in words.

This may perhaps be considered a fair adjustment of objections on either side. Those against a continued and perpetual re-eligibility are certainly met: while the arguments in favor of an opportunity to prolong an administration under circumstances that may justify it, are allowed their due weight. One effect of this practical interpolation of the constitution unquestionably is, to increase the chances of a president’s being once re-elected; as men will be more disposed to acquiesce in a measure that thus practically excludes the individual from ever again entering the field of competition.—_American Editor._]

[Footnote:

See chapter vi., entitled, “Judicial Power in the United States.”

This chapter explains the general principles of the American theory of judicial institutions. See also the federal constitution, art. 3. See the Federalist, Nos. 78-83, inclusive: and a work entitled, “Constitutional Law, being a View of the Practice and Jurisdiction of the Courts of the United States,” by Thomas Sergeant. See Story, pp. 134, 162, 489, 511, 581, 668; and the organic law of the 24th September, 1789, in the collection of the laws of the United States, by Story, vol. i., p. 53.

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Political Importance of the Judiciary in the United States.—Difficulty of treating this Subject.—Utility of judicial Power in Confederations.—What Tribunals could be introduced into the Union.—Necessity of establishing federal Courts of Justice.—Organization of the national Judiciary.—The Supreme Court.—In what it differs from all known Tribunals.

I have inquired into the legislative and executive power of the Union, and the judicial power now remains to be examined; but in this place I cannot conceal my fears from the reader. Judicial institutions exercise a great influence on the condition of the Anglo-Americans, and they occupy a prominent place among what are properly called political institutions: in this respect they are peculiarly deserving of our attention. But I am at a loss to explain the political action of the American tribunals without entering into some technical details on their constitution and their forms of proceeding; and I know not how to descend to these minuti� without wearying the curiosity of the reader by the natural aridity of the subject, or without risking to fall into obscurity through a desire to be succinct. I can scarcely hope to escape these various evils; for if