At intervals in the history of the world, the people of some country or other, or, more accurately, a relatively enlightened and resolute faction of them, become unhappily aware of the nature of the government they live under, and undertake measures to improve it.
Rebellion of the Barons
Sometimes those measures take the form of assassinating its principle dignitaries, or of driving them into exile, but more often the thing is done more gently.
For example, maybe a famous builder of skyscrapers and golf resorts gets so fed up that he runs for President. Or a tycoon who builds rockets and cars becomes so alarmed by the attack on free speech — by state-sponsored liars and corrupt media — that he decides to buy and reform the world's largest on-line town-hall.
The classic historic example of such an upheaval, known to every schoolboy, in England in the year 1215, when the barons of the realm, tiring of the tyrannous exactions of King John, corralled him at Runnymede, and forced him to grant them a long series of liberties, some of which remain the common liberties of every Englishman to this day. John kept his throne, but only at the cost of surrendering most of his old prerogatives.
Charter, Constitution or Bill of Rights
At such times, not unnaturally, the concessions wrung from the tyrant brought to bay are commonly reduced to writing, if only that the parties of both parts may remember them clearly. A writing of that sort is variously known as a charter, a constitution, or a bill of rights.
In a few countries, notably England, some of the principal articles in the existing Constitution are not written down at all, but only generally understood.
But whether they are written down or not, they have a kind of force that is greatly superior to that of all ordinary law, and changing their terms is looked on as a very grave matter, to be undertaken only on long consideration, and after getting the consent of all the persons, or at least of a majority of them, whose rights it is proposed to modify.
If brief, a constitution is a standing limitation upon the power of the government. So far you may go, but no farther. No matter what the excuse or provocation, you may not invade certain rights, or pass certain kinds of laws. The lives and property are under your disposition, but only up to a plainly indicated point. If you go beyond it,you become a public criminal, and may be proceeded against, at least in theory, like any other criminal. The government thus ceases to be sovereign, and becomes a creature of sharply defined and limited powers. There are things it may not do.
A Constitution's Value
The device is probably the greatest invention that man has made since the dawn of civilization. It lies at the bottom of most of his progress. It was responsible for the rise of free government in the Greek city states, and it has been responsible for the growth of nearly all the great nations of modern times.
Wherever it has passed out of use there has been decay and retrogression. Every right that anyone has today is based on the doctrine that government is a creature of limited powers, and that the men constituting it become criminals if they venture to exceed those powers.
The Dilemma for Politicians
Naturally enough, this makes life uncomfortable for politicians, and especially for the more impudent and unconscionable variety of them. Once they get into office they like to exercise their power, for power and its ketchup, glory, are the victuals they feed and fatten upon.
Thus is always annoys them when they collide with a constitutional prohibition. It not only interferes with their practice of their nefarious trade — to wit the trade of hoodwinking and exploiting the people: it is also a gross affront to their high mightiness.
Am I not Brian Kemp, Lord Dominator of Georgia? Why, then, should I be bound by rules and regulations? Why, then, should I be bound by rules and regulations? Why should I be said nay when I am bursting with altruism, and have in mind only the safety and felicity of all you poor fish, my vassals and retainers?
The Time of Greatest Danger
But when politicians talk thus, or act without talking, it is precisely the time to watch them most carefully. Their usual plan is to invade the constitution stealthily, and then wait to see what happens. If nothing happens they go on more boldly; if there is a protest they reply hotly that the constitution is worn out and absurd, and that progress is impossible under the dead hand.
This is the time to watch them especially. They are up to no good to anyone save themselves. They are trying to whittle away the common rights of the rest of us. Their one and only object, now and always, is to get more power in their hands that it may be used freely for their advantage, and to the damage of everyone else. Beware of all politicians at all times, but beware of them most sharply when they talk of reforming and improving the constitution.
H.L. Mencken, The Baltimore Evening Sun, August 19, 1935.
