Fascist Pillars of the Supreme Court
Sometimes the odd pairing of symbol and substance cannot be winked -- in
the case of the Supreme Court what you do not know may well hurt you.
The United States Supreme Court has been in its own home just some sixty
odd years. When the Union was formed, the Justices of the Supreme Court
had no quarters at all, except such as each provided for himself. The
entourage of clerks (each justice now may have as many as four) was
unknown. The Clerk of the Supreme Court was not paid a salary and he
derived his income solely from the receipt of filing fees. Justices were
required, together with local federal trial judges, to ride circuits in
the newly formed federation, and were subjected to all the discomforts
with which the common man was acquainted in travel.
The ignoble status of the Court belied its destiny as the modern Titan
of the Constitution. That status was utterly in keeping, however, with
the view expressed by Alexander Hamilton, in The Federalist No. 78, that
the judicial branch was designed and directed in a way that insured that
it would always be the branch of the federal government least dangerous
to the rights and liberties of citizens. Publius reasoned thus: the
legislative branch embodied the will of the people, expressed through
the legislative enactments of the Congress; the executive branch
embodied the force of the people, insuring obedience to the will of the
people; the judiciary, however, embodied only the capacity to make
judgments; the judiciary was incapable of expressing the will of the
people and lacked even the force necessary to enforce its own judgments.
In the scheme of constitutional things, the conclusion of the
Federalists regarding the judiciary was reasonable. That scheme,
however, unraveled over time. In the course of the Court's history, a
definite march toward predominance is easily discovered. From early
decisions in which the Court asserted the right to decide the
constitutionality of federal and state laws to the most recent decisions
in which the Court has cast itself as the preeminent guardian of
liberties guaranteed to state citizens under the Fourteenth Amendment,
the Court's unfaltering march is toward aggrandizement and consolidation
of power on the Court. Today, even sitting Justices reputed to hold a
constraining view of the role of the Court, such as Antonin Scalia, seem
drawn to the expansion of the Court's powers. In a recent speech, Scalia
explained his developing view that Congress was not entitled to
deference in its legislative judgments when its legislative judgments
consisted of passing statutes of uncertain constitutional stature and
then leaving the ultimate disposition of those statutes to court
challenges with expedited review in the Supreme Court.
Nor has the danger to the Republic from the consolidation of power in
the Court gone unnoticed by leading statesmen in our history. In his
first inaugural address, Abraham Lincoln alluded to the Supreme Court's
disastrous decision in Dred Scot vs. Sanford. In Lincoln's view, many
who sympathized with the Southern cause were willing to allow the policy
of the nation to be settled in litigation between private parties. The
new president expressed the view that, if Supreme Court decisions were
regularly substituted for the popular judgments of the people, our
democracy would be at an end: "[T]he candid citizen must confess that if
the policy of the Government upon vital questions affecting the whole
people is to be irrevocably fixed by decisions of the Supreme Court, the
instant they are made in ordinary litigation between parties in personal
actions the people will have ceased to be their own rulers, having to
that extent practically resigned their Government into the hands of that
eminent tribunal." Lincoln's warning about the danger to our republican
form of democracy has been left as an artifact, trodden underfoot on the
pathway of the Court's ascendancy.
An aside about the history of the Court's quarters and the plan of its
architecture is appropriate here.
Again, the Court had no home at all when the Constitution was ratified.
When it did find quarters at the first, its quarters were shared.
Initially, in February 1790, the Court used, in the afternoons, the same
space as the New York General Assembly employed in the mornings. Later
that year, the Court, along with the government, removed to
Philadelphia. There the Court again shared space in the Pennsylvania
State House and then in the Philadelphia City Hall. By 1800, the federal
government removed again, to its permanent home: the District of
Columbia. There, again, the Court had no home to call its own. Instead,
the Court used space in the Capitol otherwise intended for committee
meetings. After about eight years, while renovations were proceeding in
the Capitol building, the Court actually convened for a period of time
in a public house. During and after the War of 1812, the Court got
around a bit, meeting in a leased home on Capitol Hill and eventually
returning to the committee room that had become their chamber. Finally,
in 1819, the Court entered into a period of greater permanence, actually
managing to remain rooted in the same chamber in the United States
Senate for four decades. In 1860, as the consequence of building
expansion by the Senate and the House, the Court removed from its home
downstairs up to the Old Senate Chamber, where it remain until 1935.
It was in the Roaring Twenties that the justices' desire for a permanent
and dignified home came into conjunction with the willingness of
Congress to provide a home for the Court. Former president and then
Chief Justice William Howard Taft headed up the building commission for
the Court's new home. Congress readily approved the commission's choice
of a plot on East Capitol Street adjoining the Library of Congress and
looking onto the Capitol grounds. Chief Justice Taft used his position
and influence to insure that his friend, Cass Gilbert, was selected to
serve as the architect of the Supreme Court building.
Gilbert had achieved considerable public regard prior to the selection.
He designed what was, at the time of its completion, the tallest
building in the world, the Woolworth building in New York City. His
other public buildings included the Treasury Annex in Washington, DC,
and the public library buildings in Detroit and St. Louis.
The effect achieved by Gilbert in his design of the Court matched his
goal: the construction of a colossal temple for the judicial arts and
science. But not only did Gilbert achieve the creation of colossus. The
Court itself continued its march toward the accretional expansion of its
authority as well as, in fits and starts, naked power grabs.
In design and construction, except for the Courtroom itself, the Supreme
Court building is a showcase of America's natural resources. The
granites, marbles, veneers and other natural surfaces all were derived
from the quarries and forests of the United States. In stark contrast,
however, Gilbert used imported marbles in the construction of the
Courtroom itself. For the imposing pillars of the Courtroom, Gilbert
wanted to use a fine Italian marble. At the same time, Gilbert was aware
that quality control for the selection and harvesting of marble from
Italy could be quite irregular. Gilbert's desire for the finest marble
faced frustration from the irregular quality of marble obtained from
premier Italian quarries. To avoid that frustration, Gilbert turned to
the one man who possessed the ability to guaranteed that the finest
marble quarried in Italian quarries would be selected to fill the
Court's order.
Benito Mussolini, Italy's fascist premier since 1922, was that man. It
was to him that Cass Gilbert sent the a sycophantic message suggesting
that no finer marble could be found than the Italian quarries produced,
and that, with appropriate quality control, Gilbert and Mussolini would
succeed in showcasing that marble in one of the most important buildings
in the world. In essence, Gilbert appealed to Italian nationalistic
vanities and avarice.
The plea succeeded. And when first the Court sat in a home of its own,
in October 1935, the pillars with which the late Gilbert's son, Cass
Gilbert, Jr., finished the Courtroom proper were the wondrous product of
the fascist dictator's efforts to insure that Italy's finest marble
supported the edifice of America's highest court.
And it was in that Courtroom, supported on each side by Mussolini's
pillars, that the Court carried forward its consolidation of
constitutional power. To be certain, there were apparent setbacks.
During Franklin Delano Roosevelt's New Deal, conflict between the Court,
on one hand, and the Executive and Legislative branches, on the other,
made the idea of packing the Court with idealogues inclined to approve
New Deal socialistic programs appear likely. These setbacks were ones of
appearance, however, more than substance. After all, Roosevelt did not
simply ignore the Court into oblivion. Rather, he focused significant
thought and energy on the problems it made for his relief programs.
FDR's conduct lent emphasis to the role of the Court as a key locus of
federal power.
Judicial appointments in the late 1930's, of Hugo Black and William O.
Douglas, and in the late 1950's, of William Brennan, further solidified
the Court's role as ultimate arbiter of constitutional questions. In the
era of Black, Douglas, and Brennan, the Court used the "Incorporation
Doctrine" to assert new authority over state and local governments.
Proponents of incorporation, such as Black, Douglas and Brennan, have
concluded that the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment
incorporates some or all of the individual requirements of the Bill of
Rights into the Fourteenth Amendment. Incorporationists conclude that
under the requirement that States not deprive any person of due process,
the protections of the First Amendment, which are specific guarantees of
against federal suppression of religious and political freedoms, protect
federal citizens from similar usurpations by state and local governments
and actors. In like vein, incorporationists reason that federal citizens
are protected by state or local government violations of the rights
guaranteed by the other provisions of the Bill of Rights.
Of course, by their ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment, the States
donated over to Congress the power to enact legislation to accomplish
the purposes of the Fourteenth Amendment. Nothing in that amendment,
however, suggested that the States deputized the Court to act as
ultimate arbiter of the rights of federal citizens. In the present day,
however, it is precisely the Court, and not the Congress to which the
amendment specifically refers, that is the powerbroker under the
Fourteenth Amendment. This very point is the one demonstrated by the
Court's 1997 decision in Flores versus City of Boerne. In Flores, the
Court struck down the part of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act that
Congress made applicable to States and localities. The Court opined that
it, not Congress, would decide what rights under the Fourteenth
Amendment were in jeopardy and required the assistance of federal
intervention.
Along the way to present situation, the Court has exhibited many of the
same tendencies toward fascism that overtook Benito Mussolini. Such a
charge made without support warrants dyspeptic regurgitation. The
outlines of that support, at least, have already been amply supplied
here. Truthserum suspects that those who react dyspeptically to his
charge suffer from delusions about the present structure and function of
the government of this Nation.
I suppose, if one were to adopt Marge Schott's reasoning, we could focus
on the significant aesthetic contribution of Mussolini to our temple of
justice. Schott, you will recall, took heat for her thoughtless bromide
that Hitler started out as a man who helped his people and improved
their lives. We could temper our distaste for Mussolini and his
proclivities by recalling that it was Il Dulce who guaranteed that our
Supreme Court was constructed with the finest marble. With a similarly
blind eye, we could temper our distaste for the present imbalance of
powers by delighting in the real if not valid benefits individuals have
garnered from a Court that has usurped both Force and Will from both
federal and state loci of power. After all, has not the Court guaranteed
individual liberties against State, Congressional and Executive
infringements? If we do not put too fine a point upon it, the Court has
frequently acted, even if beyond its authority, to the benefit of
individual rights and liberties.
Fascism takes its name from the word for "bundling." In the case of
fascists, what is bundled is power. Modern dictionaries define fascism
as a system of totalitarian government. The nearly completed march of
the American federal judiciary toward predominance in the federal
balance of power and in the federal-state balance of power resembles
just such a bundling of varied sticks and branches of power. And so the
symbol, pillars of Italian marble, guaranteed superior by a fascist
dictator, finds substance in the bundled and unconstrained power of the
United States Supreme Court.
Truthserum
thetruthserum@yahoo.com