Constant Conservative

I just finished reading the new book on South Dakota’s early modern history by Jon Lauck called Prairie Republic: The Political Culture of Dakota Territory, 1879-1889. I found the book both engaging and useful to better understand how South Dakota came to be, if tending a bit more toward the academic than would be my preference.

As Jon notes throughout the book, the period about which he has chosen to write is a period not well covered by historians.  In some regards this is unsurprising: most history books are written about times and topics which broader audiences consider exciting. The events of Dakota Territory covered by the book are not the stuff of valorous physical defenses against mighty antagonists. Rather, the story of this book is the context of the relatively peaceful transition from a group of people being governed as a territory to the same people having a much greater say in governing themselves as states. There were battles which led up to this time in history, but they were largely fought elsewhere: at Bunker Hill and Antietam, for example, rather than Belle Fourche or Arlington. As the author notes, however, without these precedents the events surrounding the transition from territory to statehood might have been far more exciting.

Mr. Lauck brings the focus to the republican (small “r”) underpinnings of South Dakota time and again throughout the book. There is little question that the evidence shows both substantial republican as well as populist sentiments–which may be seen in the state’s politics and policy down to the present day.

Of particular interest to me, seeing that I find myself a transplanted Southerner, is the fact that South Dakota was settled/governed by Yankees–many of them veterans of what is commonly called the Civil War. Nonetheless, these Yankees brought with them the political context of the Party of Lincoln. They also brought a remarkable respect for the US Constitution and the constitutions of the states which had joined the United States before them. In fact, the South Dakota constitutions were unabashedly borrowed in large chunks from the constitutions of several existing states. This is not to say that the resulting South Dakota constitution of 1889 was not original, but rather that it was closely based on what was deemed to be good law and policy. One might say that those at the convention were interested in reducing, reusing and recycling.

Religion gets in-depth treatment in the book as the author describes both the variety of sects which were represented in Dakota Territory as well as the friction which existed between some of the sects–particularly between Catholics and Protestants. This friction may seem unnecessary by today’s cultural standards, yet theological and sectarian differences were beneficial in helping to foster any number of church and community organizations which were bent on doing everything from outlawing whiskey to providing medical care for children.

The underlying differences between South Dakota and North Dakota are also thrown into sharp relief on the topic of the railroads. I knew that there was a reason we have South and North Dakota rather than East and West Dakota, but I did not know (or had forgotten) that the decision was made to divide the portion of the territory which included a land-grant railway from the portion which did not. Back in the 1880s, Dakotans were concerned about the influence of a single company which had been given so much land, much as they were concerned about the influence of the territorial governors who were appointed rather than elected. It was this distrust of the powerful, given their propensity for abusing their power, which not only drove the division of the territory, but also provided the impetus for the several constitutional conventions themselves.

(I see that this grows long and I hear the silverware as it is distributed across the supper table, so I’ll wrap this up.) As is the case with good history books, this volume has plenty of end-notes and more than enough teasers to keep any number of graduate students busy for years to come. By that I mean this: not only does Jon come right out and say that there is plenty more material for historians where he dug out his, but he delves just deeply enough into several topics to pique my interest before moving on. One simple example of this is his reference to more than five hundred newspapers being published in the territory in 1889. That’s quite a bit of local and regional news. How many of those newspapers might have documents which have survived to this day? I’m sure that one could dig up more than enough data from those papers to write several more books on the day-to-day activities of period Dakotans. Sounds like a good task for someone else, no?

If you like to understand history and politics and where we came from and why we are where we are today and what our grandparents and their grandparents believed to be important, then pick up a copy of this book and get started on your own research project.

A book title which starts out with the words “who killed” is usually assumed to be a murder mystery. In that simple regard, this book is no different from many others. However, the murderer is not identified little by little as we follow the hero through the narrative in this particular mystery. No, the murderers are identified early on and the case is made page by page for the authors’ conclusion and summation.

In short, the authors (Thomas E. Woods, Jr and Kevin R. C. Gutzman) of Who Killed the Constitution: The Fate of American Liberty from World War I to George W. Bush believe that the US Constitution has been suffering from what one might call the “death of a thousand cuts” or, more properly, “the death of a thousand legal proceedings.”

The first example given in the book covers the Espionage Act of 1917 and the Sedition Act of 1918. These two laws, taken together, provided the basis for remarkable abuses of US citizens’ freedoms–particularly those of the First Amendment:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

The book provides much detail to prove that freedom of speech was indeed abridged to the extent that people were put into prison for what they said in opposition to the US Government’s official policies.

Justice Holmes had the following to say with reference to one case that came before the court (and in which the defendant was found guilty of the Espionage Act).

“The question in every case is whether the words used are in such circumstances and are of such a nature as to create a clear and present danger that they will bring about the substantive evils which Congress has a right to prevent. It is a question of proximity and degree. When a nation is at war, many things which might be said in time of peace are such a hindrance to its effort that their utterance will not be endured so long as men fight and that no Court could regard them as protected by any Constitutional right.”

And so the book goes, providing twelve examples in all of laws which were passed or actions which were taken sans law (but not corrected) which would show that the much revered Constitution was not/is not nearly enough to temper the ambition for power and control which various branches of the federal government have exercised.

The material appears well-researched and is presented in a very readable format. My own sympathies, as you may have guessed, lie firmly with the authors’ in the bulk of their conclusions. Though by no means an exhaustive history of constitutional law, this book provides an overview of critical matters which have, perhaps, unalterably changed the legal landscape of this country.

If you are looking for some encouraging, light reading–this is not the direction to go. If you are, on the other hand, interested in history and how it affects us today (and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow) then you may find this book not only worthwhile but replete with necessary and proper knowledge.

Book to Read

• Who Killed the Constitution? at Amazon

I’ve recently read the book Liberal Fascism by Jonah Goldberg (and have a link to it at Amazon in the upper right corner of this page). I’ll not go into great detail, since I’m expecting a review of this book by a new contributor to Constant Conservative. Nonetheless, I will say this. If you are concerned about what we as conservatives need to know and to do to move the ship of state back on course, this book is worth your time.

I read a lot (both online and hardcopy). I do not recommend many books, but I am recommending this one. You may be well versed in many things, but I believe Goldberg will help you pull it all together. I’ve ordered several copies as Christmas gifts; you may want to consider doing the same.

As I had written previously, I knew a bit about Theodore Roosevelt, but it was mostly in reference to his life as an outdoorsman and military hero and not so much about his time as President of the United States.

After reading Theodore Rex by Edmund Morris, I believe that I have much more complete picture of Teddy the President.

The author approaches the topic from a somewhat sympathetic viewpoint, though that does not entirely prevent him from showing Roosevelt with his warts from time to time, when the President’s actions and words seem to support approbation rather than respect.

Roosevelt became president shortly after the untimely death of McKinley, who was the third of four presidents to be assassinated. While Roosevelt was wise enough at that juncture to assure everyone (whether the financial people or politicians) that he meant to keep the ship of state heading in the direction which McKinley had set, it was not long after those same people had breathed a sigh of relief before Teddy was busy putting his stamp on everything.

One might not be far wrong to say that TR was bound and determined to leave his mark on everything which he touched. Some of the things which he touched were arguably beneficial: brokering the peace between Japan and Russia, moving ahead with the Panama Canal and bringing attention to the need for practical suffrage for blacks as well as whites. A number of other things which he did were less in keeping with a President (from this reviewer’s perspective): taking/making large blocks of land belong to the government for the purpose of protecting them in perpetuity from people and bailing out Wall Street with millions in taxpayer’s dollars.

While the book shows very clearly that Theodore loved his country, it is also apparent that he loved himself equally well. While he was by far an honest man (with the caveat that none of us is completely honest all the time) he was unafraid of taking liberties with his office which were not supported by a simple reading of the Constitution if he believed it was in his interest, or that of the government or the people of the nation that he do so.

His approach to policy was at times rather disjointed as a result of this restlessness and seeming disregard for the boundaries which had been established for him. He was, above almost everything else, a largely pragmatic individual. In addition, he was larger than life as was shown by his ability to read multiple languages (other than English), to converse on a variety of topics more varied than one could probably find by reading a modern newspaper, and by such force of character, strong diplomacy, threats and personal cheer that he could convince almost anyone to go along with him (whether in one of his jaunts through the woods and across the creek or down some new and dangerous road of policy) for a period.

The trusts (large corporations) of his day were very much an issue, and the book devotes not a few pages to this topic. Roosevelt believed that it was wrong for certain people to get wealthy while others did not. Though his thoughts on this matter do come out from time to time in the book (such as the part where he talks about wealth redistribution), this was more of a “we should make things fair for the folks” approach than it was a driving, burning interest on his part.

Teddy is hailed as being the first president to have a black man to dinner at the White House (Booker T. Washington) but his desire to do so had more to do with personal interest in Booker than it did with any grand scheme to break down barriers. So it was that his policy in reference to dealing with blacks (whether political appointees or soldiers who revolted against bigotry and abuse at Brownsville) was uneven and often inconsistent. Nonetheless, he did start some things moving in the right direction, though without apparent design.

In short (though the book is not very short) this book reads more like the biography of a real person who wants to do the right thing than of a consummate politician who is set on doing everything he can to stay in power. To his credit, TR kept his word to step down after his first full term. Despite everything which spoke to his humanity, he was indeed a natural politician and a very successful one at that.

If one wants to read the story of the Republican Party’s maverick circa 1902, he/she could do much worse than to spend a few hours with this story.

Book to Read

• Theodore Rex at Amazon

Earlier, I gave a pre-review of RÉSISTANCE: A Woman’s Journal of Struggle and Defiance in Occupied France. Now that I have completed the book, I would like to provide a larger context and, I trust, more useful review.

Following up on my pre-review, I must confirm that the balance of the book bore out my first impressions as to the language and delivery. The book was a delight to read, from a language standpoint, though there were sections of content which became difficult because of the subject matter.

Agnès Humbert was an intellectual (an art historian) working in Paris when the Germans invaded and crushed the regular French forces in the summer of 1940. She joined with others in what became known as the French Resistance or the French Underground. Her book chronicles her early participation with others in printing flyers and newsheets, helping to smuggle enemies of the Germans out of Paris (and France itself), and then her arrest, conviction,  imprisonments and finally the her liberation by Americans as Germany itself became the battleground for the end of the war in Europe. The very last part of the book details the help which she and several of her fellow prisoners provided to the occupying forces in making the area safe from the last remnants of the die-hard Nazi party members.

As many French intellectuals of her day, Madame Humbert was a socialist (and probably a communist). Unsurprisingly then, she tends to revile the Germans (fascists) and praise the Russians (communists). She had traveled to Russia earlier in her life and brought back a somewhat (by my estimation) starry-eyed view of communism.

The early part of this book is written from her early diaries, which she kept in great detail and somehow hid until after the war. The central portion of the book is written from memory, as it pertains to her imprisonment and privation (which usually meant no writing materials and of course, no means to secure them from seizure). The final part of the book is once again written from her diaries. The book itself was compiled and published within about a year of the war’s end, so the events were extremely fresh in the mind of the author.

Her methodical, often highly technical, details of her personal courage and desire to see France free once again speaks to a disciplined mind. While it is often the case that prisoners, particularly those taken in war, will find strength to continue from a faith in God, Agnès does not, trusting instead to her innate capacity to withstand just about everything which is thrown at her (or which she is thrown into). France as a symbol, with deGaulle as its eventual leader, is the shining hope of the future which sustains her. Coupled with this is her oft-spoken love for family (her mother and her son in particular) as reasons that she keeps going.

Though the book is factual (and those who have read widely on WWII in Europe will be able to confirm many of the things which she relates) the author’s biases are never hid from view. She is, in many regards, quintessentially French, and regards those who are not French as being, well, different. Ironically, she regards some ethnic groups as being more animalistic than human, a view which her captors also hold, just with different groups in mind than she.

Though the author was not incarcerated in any of the death camps, there is material in the book which bears on the topic. The detailed explanations of personal inhumanity and brutality which are a substantial part of the middle portion of the book do sometimes make it difficult to read. This is not a book for children or for those who are not somewhat inured to the horrors of war.

For a well-crafted, truthful story of the events of WWII as seen from the perspective of a captured but not conquered Frenchwoman, one does well to study RÉSISTANCE.

Book to Read

• RÉSISTANCE at Amazon

August 15, 1940. Paris, France. The city has fallen. The enemy has already banned all books written by Jews. Agnès Humbert is looking out the window of the Metro on her way home:

A little French soldier, shabby but clean, apparently free but doubtless in the service of the public cleansing department. Beside him a tall German soldier, big, beefy, and pink, tightly strapped into a spotless uniform. He is smoking a cigarette. They all smoke in the Métro precisely because it’s not allowed, as they well know from numerous signs in German. For a while he observes the Frenchman with a faintly condescending smirk, almost avuncular. Suddenly he whips out his cigarettes and offers him one. The little Frenchman is gasping for a cigarette, you can see it in his eyes; but without batting an eyelid, he refuses, simply, clearly and categorically, with an icy ‘non merci.’

That’s what freedom looks like, my friend. Choosing to do the right thing, the principled thing, even when it goes against personal self-interest.

The book from which this is taken (RÉSISTANCE: A Woman’s Journal of Struggle and Defiance in Occupied France) is the English translation of a first-person WWII narrative by Agnès Humbert. It is translated into the English by Barbara Mellor. My French is much to rusty (were I even to read the original) to know how the translation compares, but the passion and emotion coming through in this book tastes too real for it to be a poor likeness.

Normally, I do not write a review until finishing a book (and I’ll probably do a full review at that time), but this one is worth not waiting until the end to share. I know, it was originally published 52 years ago, what’s a few more days? You’ll just need to take my word on it.

Book to Read

• RÉSISTANCE at Amazon

Living as I do in South Dakota, I am regularly reminded of this region’s history, particularly in reference to Lewis and Clark. After all, we have substantial portions of the trail which run through South Dakota, a reservoir named after the odd couple and regular television specials on PBS (so I’m told).

However, none of what the intrepid pair did would have been possible without the Louisiana Purchase. Jon Kukla in his book A Wilderness So Immense: The Louisiana Purchase and the Destiny of America covers the history, people and politics which led up to and resulted in the agreement which was struck between Thomas Jefferson’s United States and Napoleon Bonaparte’s France.

The main part of the book itself is something over 300 pages and is written in a fashion which is easily understood, even if one does not have the luxury of sitting down and going through the book from start to finish without interruption. Well-known events (such as the duel between Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton) are woven into the texture of the time along with lesser things (such as the bribery to the tune of $5000 of Light-horse Harry Lee by the Spanish negotiator Gardoqui, and the fact that the Spanish had only turned over New Orleans–and the rest of the Louisiana territory–to France approximately three weeks before it was taken over by the United States).

All of the major players are here, in some detail, including the British, Spanish, French and of course the Americans. The author goes to some length to explain how very un-democratic the purchase really was, with the United States government acting well beyond its constitutional mandate. (I confess that I need to study this area more to see if it was indeed the case, but I think I can accept the author’s arguments conditionally at this point). Nonetheless, the treatment of the events and people is quite evenhanded, to the extent that the reader is regularly reminded of the imperfections of all who participated in the negotiations.

The Louisiana Purchase doubled the size of the United States, provided millions of francs to Napoleon to continue his war in Europe and eventually helped to force the question of slavery into the broader public consciousness here in the United States, thereby setting the stage, in part, for the War Between the States.

In short, this book is well-researched and laid out and makes a convincing case for the remarkable importance which should be given to the purchase of these 900,000 square miles to the future of the United States. The author does a good job of removing himself from too many editorial comments (though some are found at the very end of the tome).

Book to Read

• A Wilderness So Immense at Amazon