The Bundy standoff reminds us that government is our servant, not our master.
A great deal of the discussion about the Cliven Bundy standoff in Nevada has focused on the legal questions — the litigation between Mr. Bundy and the BLM, his eccentric (i.e., batzoid) legal rationales, etc. But as Rich Lowry and others have argued, this is best understood not as a legal proceeding but as an act of civil disobedience. John Hinderaker and Rich both are correct that as a legal question Mr. Bundy is legless. But that is largely beside the point.
Of course
the law is against Cliven Bundy. How could it be otherwise? The law was
against Mohandas Gandhi, too, when he was tried for sedition; Mr.
Gandhi himself habitually was among the first to acknowledge that fact,
refusing to offer a defense in his sedition case and arguing that the
judge had no choice but to resign, in protest of the perfectly legal
injustice unfolding in his courtroom, or to sentence him to the harshest
sentence possible, there being no extenuating circumstances for Mr.
Gandhi’s intentional violation of the law. Henry David Thoreau was happy
to spend his time in jail, knowing that the law was against him,
whatever side justice was on.
But not all dissidents are content to submit to what we,
in the Age of Obama, still insist on quaintly calling “the rule of
law.” And there is a price to pay for that, too: King George not only
would have been well within his legal rights to hang every one of this
nation’s seditious Founding Fathers, he would have been duty-bound to do
so, the keeping of the civil peace being the first responsibility of
the civil authority. Every fugitive slave, and every one of the sainted
men and women who harbored and enabled them, was a law-breaker, and who
can blame them if none was content to submit to what passed for justice
among the slavers? The situation was less dramatic during the government
shutdown, but every one of the veterans and cheesed-off citizens who
disregarded President Obama’s political theater and pushed aside his
barricades was a law-breaker, too — and bless them for being that.
Harry Reid, apparently eager for somebody to play the role of General
Dyer in this civil-disobedience drama, promises that this is “not over.”
And, in a sense, it can’t be over: The theory of modern government is
fundamentally Hobbesian in its insistence that where political obedience
is demanded, that demand must be satisfied lest we regress into bellum omnium contra omnes.
I myself am of the view that there is a great deal of real estate
between complete submission and civil war, and that acts such as Mr.
Bundy’s are not only bearable in a free republic but positively
salubrious. Unhappily, those views are not shared by many in Washington,
and, if I were a wagering sort, my money would be on Mr. Bundy ending
up dead or in prison, with a slight bias in the odds toward death.
Mohandas Gandhi and George Washington both were British subjects who
believed that their legal situation was at odds with something deeper
and more meaningful, and that the British were a legal authority but an
alien power. (Washington is not really so much closer to London than New
Delhi is.) Mr. Bundy is tapping into a longstanding tendency in the
American West to view the federal government as a creature of the
eastern establishment, with political and economic interests that are
inimical to those of the West and its people. And it is not as though
there is no evidence supporting that suspicion. The federal government
controls 87 percent of the land in Nevada, something that would be
unheard-of in any state east of Colorado. Uncle Sam owns less than 1
percent of the land in New York, 1 percent of Maine, less than 1 percent
of Rhode Island, less than 1 percent of Connecticut, but nearly half of
New Mexico and Arizona, more than half of Utah and Idaho, and is
practically a monopolist in Nevada. And a monopolist is rarely a good
and honest negotiating partner. The original Sagebrush rebels objected
to conservation rules written by eastern environmentalists who had never
so much as set foot in the lands they were disposing of; a century and
some later, people travel more, but the underlying dynamic is the same.
There are of course questions of prudence and proportion to be answered
here, and though I note that he uses the very strong phrase “lawless
government,” I sympathize with Mr. Lowry’s desire that both sides should
follow the law. But there is a more important question here: Is
government our servant, or is it our master? The Left has long ago
answered that question to the satisfaction of its partisans, who are
happy to be serfs so long as their birth control is subsidized. But the
Right always struggles with that question, as it must. The thing that
conservatives seek to conserve is the American order, which (1) insists
that we are to be governed by laws rather than by men and (2) was born
in a violent revolution. Russell Kirk described the conservative ideal
as “ordered liberty,” and that is indeed what we must aim for — keeping
in mind that it is order that serves liberty, not the other way around.
And it is the government that exists at the sufferance of the people,
including such irascible ones as Mr. Bundy, not the other way around.
If the conservatives in official Washington want to do
something other than stand by and look impotent, they might consider
pressing for legislation that would oblige the federal government to
divest itself of 1 percent of its land and other real estate each year
for the foreseeable future through an open auction process. Even the
Obama administration has identified a very large portfolio of office
buildings and other federal holdings that are unused or under-used. By
some estimates, superfluous federal holdings amount to trillions of
dollars in value. Surely not every inch of that 87 percent of Nevada
under the absentee-landlordship of the federal government is critical to
the national interest. Perhaps Mr. Bundy would like to buy some land
where he can graze his cattle.
Prudential measures do
not solve questions of principle. So where does that leave us with our
judgment of the Nevada insurrection? Perhaps with an understanding that
while Mr. Bundy’s stand should not be construed as a general template
for civic action, it is nonetheless the case that, in measured doses, a
little sedition is an excellent thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment