Almost all of you know I have a bad back. I don't know what causes my back to occasionally, but with a vengeance, fiercely reveal its frailties and weaknesses.
Due to my occasional recklessness in protecting my back (or not protecting it, to be more concise), it sometimes renders me defenseless and unable to move. My temporary immobility is a reminder that I unwisely made a movement or series of movements too far outside the parameters my body established. What usually happens when the elasticity in my back muscles is pushed beyond its limits is that the muscles severely contract and tighten in order to protect themselves from further damage; my legs are unable to support themselves leaving me vulnerable to collapse. After my muscles relax and re-establish their elasticity and strength, I am able to move around, sometimes even better than before.
While I am flat on my back, my main goal is to not to make any movement that may increase my down time or make my suffering any worse than it already is.
But once my muscles have relaxed and I'm on my feet again, I amazingly forget how intense the pain was; I just remember what it's like to move again and I'm so grateful for that restored freedom I forgive my back for going out in the first place.
Again, almost all of you know my love of modern political science. To me, political science is the study of people and their communities. To narrow the term a bit, it is a study of how people govern themselves; if psychology seeks to answer why people act and what the underlying intentions behind those actions may be, political science answers the how of it all.
Well, this morning, I picked up a book today about the presidency of Abraham Lincoln.
My brother and I have had several conversations about our 16th president. He is an admirer; I am less than that.
The preface of this book starts off stating that each president has a common goal. Even though circumstances surrounding each election may differ, the makeup of the Congress may differ, the national ideological slant may differ, the goal, found in the oath he takes, is the same: "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."
I've been a bit fixated on the wording of the oath for the past couple of days. My first observation is that the president is sworn to protect the Constitution, not the country. Obviously, the two are often done simultaneously. But what about the times when protecting the latter may involve bending the former? Which one takes precedence - the stated oath or the unstated one?
Our country has had 42 separate presidents. I have no doubt that the presidential oath and its execution have had 42 different interpretations.
I believe Lincoln looked at it the same way I do my sometimes fragile back.
Almost a century and a half after the fact, I can forgive Lincoln for the measures he had to take in order to preserve the Union. I won't say he's the only person who could have saved the republic, but there aren't too many names that come to mind to join that short list.
Don't misunderstand me. I am grateful I don't have decisions anywhere near comparable to the daily and mindboggling puzzle-like decisions Lincoln had to make. That he only seemingly seemed to age fifteen years during the course of four is amazing to me.
So as an American, I feel that what he did was, hopefully, something our nation only endures once (until Texas decides to secede. Then we'll talk). I don't think this country has progressed as rapidly as he would have liked when it comes to racial matters, but I'm not blaming him for that.
But as a civil libertarian, I'm not sure I can ever forget. When I hear others talking about the prisoner-like conditions in other countries past and present, I often have to remind myself that our own country has been guilty of its own crimes against humanity.
If you've really paid attention to my comments, and comments left for me, during the past week or so, you'll know I'm referring to suspending habeas corpus in certain parts of the country during the Civil War.
I usually hear two counterpoints when this issue comes up: First, Congress gave him authority to suspend perhaps the most precious of civil liberties. Second, Jefferson Davis did the same thing in the Confederate States.
Doesn't matter. What Lincoln did, even with the Congress' blessing, was ruled unconstitutional.
To be fair, Lincoln did exactly what my back muscles do when they are threatened: tighten up and restrict any movement so that overall health can be restored without permanent damage. Sure, I only see the walking Union, not the crippled country lying flat on its back. That's why it's easy to forgive.
To be even fairer, Lincoln did what I probably would have done myself if I were commander in chief. I don't know what other options were discussed and tossed out the window; that's neither here nor there. Lincoln did what he thought would restore the Union the quickest and with the least amount of bloodshed. And he succeded.
So, I think we have Lincon's answer: he chose loyalty to the unstated oath to preserve, protect and defend the United States. And in order to do it, he revealed the frailties and weaknesses of the stated oath - sometimes, the Constitution must be violated in order to preserve it.