Sure, the war on education helps Republican lawmakers destroy unions
and slash government spending, but it’s our history of progressive
change that makes Conservatives hate accurate depictions of our past.
Just
think about Social Security, The New Deal, freeing the slaves, or child
labor laws… all represent great turning points in our nation that
progressives made possible. The fact is, our entire history – from our
revolution to healthcare reform – is filled with progressive
accomplishments, and it’s hard to sell the Conservative brand to people
who know that history.
Many of the today’s biggest political
issues, like our privacy rights, would not even be up for debate today
had it not been for the attack on education. If more Americans had had a
strong understanding of our history, George W. Bush and Dick Cheney
would have never been able to pull off the Patriot Act. And, we wouldn’t
be discussing the Orwellian government spy agencies like the NSA in
this day and age.
While we can’t undo the damage to the Fourth
Amendment overnight, we can protect our remaining rights by passing on
accurate history, and protecting public education.
Thomas Jefferson recognized that education is vital to a functioning Democratic Republic.
In
a letter to James Madison, Jefferson wrote: “And say, finally, whether
peace is best preserved by giving energy to the government, or
information to the people. This last is the most certain, and the most
legitimate engine of government. Educate and inform the whole mass of
the people. Enable them to see that it is their interest to preserve
peace and order, and they will preserve them…. They are the only sure
reliance for the preservation of our liberty.”
In light of
Oklahoma’s recent attack on AP History, it would be easy to argue that
today’s Republicans don’t recognize the value of a good education.
However, the reality is that they do, and that the spreading attack on
public education is far more sinister.
When the Patriot Act was
signed, Bush and his ilk claimed the power to violate citizens’ private
lives because, they said, there is no “right to privacy” in the United
States. In that, they – perhaps purposefully – overlooked the history of
America and the Declaration of Independence, signed on July 4, 1776.
And they missed a basic understanding of the evolution of language in
the United States.
Of
course, they weren’t the first to have made these mistakes. And, the
Conservatives waging today’s war on education hope that they won’t be
the last.
When I was a teenager, it was a felony in parts of the
United States to advise a married couple about how to practice birth
control. This ended in 1965, in the Griswold v. Connecticut case before
the U.S. Supreme Court, when the Court reversed the criminal conviction
of a Planned Parenthood program director who had discussed contraception
with a married couple, and of a doctor who had prescribed a
birth-control device to them.
The majority of the Court summarized
their ruling by saying, “Would we allow the police to search the sacred
precincts of marital bedrooms for telltale signs of the use of
contraceptives? The very idea is repulsive to the notions of privacy….”
However,
Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart disagreed back in 1965, saying
that he could find no “right of privacy“ in the Constitution of the
United States. Using his logic, under the laws of the day, the couple in
question could themselves have been sent to prison for using birth
control in their own bedroom.
As Justice Stewart wrote in his
dissent in the case, “Since 1879 Connecticut has had on its books a law
which forbids the use of contraceptives by anyone…. What provision of
the Constitution, then, makes this state law invalid? The Court says it
is the right of privacy ‘created by several fundamental constitutional
guarantees.’ With all deference, I can find no such general right of
privacy in the Bill of Rights, in any other part of the Constitution, or
in any case ever before decided by this Court.”
In that view of American law, Justice Clarence Thomas—who still holds a seat on our nation’s highest court—agrees.
In his dissent in a 2003
Texas sodomy case,
Thomas wrote, “just like Justice Stewart, I ‘can find [neither in the
Bill of Rights nor any other part of the Constitution a] general right
of privacy,’ or as the Court terms it today, the ‘liberty of the person
both in its spatial and more transcendent dimensions.’”
This type
of rationale is how we ended up with the Patriot Act and the NSA, but
someone with a real knowledge of our history would see where these men
were wrong. The Constitution doesn’t grant a right to eat, or to read,
or to have children. Yet do we doubt these are rights we hold?
The
simple reality is that there are many “rights” that are not specified
in the Constitution, but which we daily enjoy and cannot be taken away
from us by the government. But if that’s the case, Thomas would argue,
why doesn’t the Constitution list those rights in the Bill of Rights?
If
you know your history, you know that the reason is simple: the
Constitution wasn’t written as a vehicle to grant us rights. We don’t
derive our rights from the constitution.
Rather, in the minds of
the Founders, human rights are inalienable—inseparable—from humans
themselves. We are born with rights by simple fact of existence, as
defined by John Locke and written by Thomas Jefferson in the Declaration
of Independence. “We hold these truths to be self-evident,” the
Founders wrote.
Humans are “endowed by their creator with certain
inalienable rights….” These rights are clear and obvious, the Founders
repeatedly said. They belong to us from birth, as opposed to something
the Constitution must hand to us, and are more ancient than any
government.
The job of the Constitution was to define a legal
framework within which government and business could operate in a manner
least intrusive to “We, The People,” who are the holders of the rights.
In its first draft it didn’t even have a Bill of Rights, because the
Framers felt it wasn’t necessary to state out loud that human rights
came from something greater, larger, and older than government. They all
knew this; it was simply obvious.
Thomas Jefferson, however,
foreseeing a time when the concepts fundamental to the founding of
America were forgotten, strongly argued that the Constitution must
contain at least a rudimentary statement of rights, laying out those
main areas where government could, at the minimum, never intrude into
our lives.
Jefferson’s insistence on a bill of rights exemplifies
the progressive thoughts and actions that fill our rich history, and
provide a perfect example of why education is vital to our democratic
republic.
Jefferson was in France when Madison sent him the first
draft of the new Constitution, and he wrote back on December 20, 1787,
that, “I will now tell you what I do not like [about the new
constitution]. First, the omission of a bill of rights, providing
clearly, and without the aid of sophism, for freedom of religion,
freedom of the press, protection against standing armies, restriction of
monopolies, the eternal and unremitting force of the habeas corpus
laws, and trials by jury in all matters of fact triable by the laws of
the land….”
There had already been discussion among the delegates
to the constitutional convention about whether they should go to the
trouble of enumerating the human rights they had held up to the world
with the Declaration of Independence, but the consensus had been that it
was unnecessary.
The Declaration, the writings of many of the
Founders and Framers, and no shortage of other documents made amply
clear the Founders’ and the Framers’ sentiments that human rights were
solely the province of humans, and that governments don’t grant rights
but, rather, that in a constitutionally limited democratic republic We,
The People—the holders of the rights—grant to our governments whatever
privileges our government may need to function (while keeping the rights
for ourselves).
This is the fundamental difference between
kingdoms, theocracies, feudal states, and a democratic republic. In the
former three, people must beg for their rights at the pleasure of the
rulers. In the latter, the republic derives its legitimacy from the
people, the sole holders of rights.
Although the purpose of the
Constitution wasn’t to grant rights to people, as kings and popes and
feudal lords had done in the past, Jefferson felt it was necessary to be
absolutely unambiguous about the solid reality that humans are holders
of rights, and that in no way was the Constitution or the new government
of the United States to ever be allowed to infringe on those rights.
The
Constitution’s authors well understood this, Jefferson noted, having
just fought a revolutionary war to gain their “self-evident” and
“inalienable” rights from King George, but he also felt strongly that
both the common person of the day and future generations must be
reminded of this reality.
“To say, as Mr. Wilson does, that a bill
of rights was not necessary,” Jefferson wrote in his December 1787
letter to Madison, “…might do for the audience to which it was
addressed….” But it wasn’t enough. Human rights may be well known to
those writing the constitution, they may all agree that governments may
not infringe on human rights, but, nonetheless, we must not trust that
simply inferring this truth is enough for future generations who have
not so carefully read history or who may foolishly elect leaders
inclined toward tyranny.
“Let me add,” Jefferson wrote, “that a
bill of rights is what the people are entitled to against every
government on earth, general or particular; and what no just government
should refuse, or rest on inference.”
Madison took Jefferson’s
notes and shared them with Hamilton, Adams, Mason, and others, and then
sent a letter to Jefferson outlining the objections to a Bill of Rights
that had been raised by the members of the constitutional convention.
On
March 15, 1789, Jefferson replied to Madison: “I am happy to find that,
on the whole, you are a friend to this amendment. The declaration of
rights is, like all other human blessings, alloyed with some
inconveniences, and not accomplishing fully its object. But the good in
this instance vastly overweighs the evil.
“I cannot refrain from making short answers to the objections which your letter states to have been raised [by others]:
“1.
‘That the rights in question are reserved, by the manner in which the
federal powers are granted.’ Answer: A constitutive act [the
Constitution] may, certainly, be so formed, as to need no declaration of
rights. …In the draught of a constitution which I had once a thought of
proposing in Virginia, and I printed afterwards, I endeavored to reach
all the great objects of public liberty, and did not mean to add a
declaration of rights. …But…this instrument [the U.S. Constitution]
forms us into one State, as to certain objects, and gives us a
legislative and executive body for these objects. It should, therefore,
guard us against their abuses of power, within the field submitted to
them.”
In this, Jefferson is stating openly that the purpose of
the Constitution—and even the Bill of Rights—is not to grant rights to
the people, but to restrain government. It doesn’t grant, it limits.
And,
Jefferson said, his proposed Bill of Rights was only a beginning and
imperfect; it would be nearly impossible to list in detail all the
rights humans have. But a start, a try, is better than nothing—at least
it will make clear that the purpose of the constitution is to limit
government:
“2. ‘A positive declaration of some essential rights
could not be obtained in the requisite latitude.’ Answer: Half a loaf is
better than no bread. If we cannot secure all our rights, let us secure
what we can.”
His third point was that the states may try to
limit peoples rights if the explicit nature of government and rights
wasn’t spelled out in the Constitution through a Bill of Rights, so the
constitution protected citizens from tyrannical state governments who
may overreach (as the Supreme Court ultimately ruled Connecticut had
done in banning birth control).
And, finally, Jefferson noted that
if they were to err, it would be better to err on the side of
over-defining rights—even if past efforts had proven unnecessary or
nonviable—than under-defining them.
“4. ‘Experience proves the
inefficacy of a bill of rights.’ True. But though it is not absolutely
efficacious under all circumstances, it is of great potency always, and
rarely inefficacious. A brace the more will often keep up the building
which would have fallen, with that brace the less. There is a remarkable
difference between the characters of the inconveniences which attend a
declaration of rights, and those which attend the want of it. The
inconveniences of the declaration are, that it may cramp government in
its useful exertions. But the evil of this is short-lived, moderate and
reparable. The inconveniences of the want of a declaration are
permanent, afflicting and irreparable.”
A Bill of Rights wasn’t
necessary, but it was important. We all knew the constitution was
designed to define and constrain government, but it’s still better to
say too much about liberty than too little.
Even though this
thrown-together-at-the-last-minute Bill of Rights doesn’t cover all the
rights we consider self-evident, and may inconvenience government, it’s
better to include it than overlook it and risk future generations
forgetting our words and deeds.
Beyond that, there’s good reason
to believe—as the majority of the Supreme Court did in the Griswold
case, the Texas sodomy case, and at least a dozen others—that the
Founders and Framers did write a right to privacy into the Constitution.
But, you probably had to sit through an AP history course to hear about
that reason.
Living in the 18th Century, the Founders never would
have actually used the word “privacy“ out loud or in writing. In fact,
a search, for example, of all 16,000 of Thomas Jefferson’s letters and
writings produces not a single use of the word “privacy.” Nor does Adams
use the word in his writings, so far as I can find.
The reason is
simple: “privacy“ in 1776 was a code word for toilet functions. A
person would say, “I need a moment of privacy” as a way of excusing
themselves to go use the “privy” or outhouse. The chamberpots around the
house, into which people relieved themselves during the evening and
which were emptied in the morning, were referred to as “the privates,” a
phrase also used to describe genitals.
Privacy, in short, was a
word that wasn’t generally used in political discourse or polite company
during an era when women were expected to cover their arms and legs and
discussion of bedroom behavior was unthinkable.
It wasn’t until
1898 that Thomas Crapper began marketing the flush toilet and discussion
of toilet functions became relatively acceptable. Prior to then, saying
somebody had a “right to privacy” would have meant “a right to
excrete.” This was, of course, a right that was taken for granted and
thus the Framers felt no need to specify it in the Constitution.
Instead,
the word of the day was “security,” and in many ways it meant what we
today mean when we say “privacy.” Consider, for example, the Fourth
Amendment: “The right of the people to be secure in their persons,
houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures,
shall not be violated….”
Similarly, “liberty” was also
understood, in one of its dimensions, to mean something close to what
today we’d call “privacy.” The Fifth Amendment talks about how “No
person shall be… deprived of life, liberty, or property…” and the
Fourteenth Amendment adds that “nor shall any State deprive any person
of life, liberty, or property….”
And, of course, the Declaration
of Independence itself proclaims that all “are endowed by their Creator
with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and
the pursuit of Happiness.”
So now, thanks to the war on education
that began with Ronald Raegan, we have come to that remote period in
time Jefferson was concerned about. Our leaders, ignorant of or ignoring
the history of this nation’s founding, make a parody of liberty and
flaunt their challenges even to those rights explicitly defined in the
Constitution. And, perhaps worse, they allow monopolistic corporations
to do the same.
Our best defense against today’s pervasive
ignorance about American history and human rights is education, a task
that Jefferson undertook in starting the University of Virginia to
provide a comprehensive and free public education to all capable
students. A well-informed populace will always preserve liberty better
than a powerful government, a philosophy which led the University of
California and others to once offer free education to their states’
citizens.
As Jefferson noted in that first letter to Madison: “And
say, finally, whether peace is best preserved by giving energy to the
government, or information to the people. This last is the most certain,
and the most legitimate engine of government. Educate and inform the
whole mass of the people. Enable them to see that it is their interest
to preserve peace and order, and they will preserve them…. They are the
only sure reliance for the preservation of our liberty.”
The
majority of the Supreme Court wrote in their opinion in the 1965
Griswold case legalizing contraception that, “We deal with a right of
privacy older than the Bill of Rights [and] older than our political
parties…” saying explicitly that the right of privacy is a fundamental
personal right, emanating “from the totality of the constitutional
scheme under which we live.” But, they never would have understood that
inalienable right without a real education about our history.
We
must teach our children and inform the world about the essentials of
human rights and how our constitutional republic works—deriving its sole
powers from the consent of We, The People who hold the rights—if
democracy is to survive. And, we must stand up to anyone who tries to
block us from sharing our progressive history.
Now in steps our hero. On February
5,
the head of the Purdue University Mathematics Department, Professor Clarence
Abiathar Waldo, was in the Statehouse lobbying for the University's budget
appropriation. Professor Waldo had been an instructor of mathematics (and Latin) at several seminaries,
institutes and colleges in the Midwest for more than 20 years. He had also
been in administration, as a Registrar and Vice President at other institutions,
which may explain why he had been given the task of keeping track of the
University's appropriation. He was the author of a book titled Manual
of Descriptive Geometry.
