The use of Presidential power has an historical genealogy. Upon reviewing Madison’s progress report on the Constitutional Convention, Jefferson, who was in France at the time, responded with concern regarding the power of the presidency. He feared that the Constitution gave too much power to the President in foreign affairs. Nevertheless, he was mollified by Madison’s assertion that the universally trusted George Washington would become the first U.S. President. Further, he was assured that the Constitution reserved for Congress the sole right to declare war; for our founders felt it much more likely an unchecked executive might take the country into a war than that deliberative body which represented the voices of a broader constituency. The irony, of course, is that Jefferson as the third President of the United States took his country to war against the Ivory Coast without congressional approval. In fact, he never told Congress that he ordered the attack until a month after its conclusion. In Jefferson’s defense, he felt the Constitution gave him the power to respond to an eminent threat, which the pirates of the Ivory Coast presented to American ships. Since that time, American Presidents have taken this country into many foreign conflicts, sometimes with congressional approval and sometimes without. Considering the awesome power a modern President has, one would assume its exercise be subject to an honest assessment of eminent danger to our national security and of a proportionate response.

Now you might also assume that this assessment is done without the inflection or subversion of politics and with due consideration for the discrete use of U.S. power/influence. But Presidents never act in a political vacuum and often with little regard for any limit to their power—not even in the build-up to war. Supportive examples of this fact would fill a book. President Roosevelt allowed American ships to navigate shipping lanes patrolled by German subs. He knew if one of them was sunk it would be provocation for Congress to declare war. Pearl Harbor eventually gave him that provocation. President Johnson used a misleading report about an alleged incident in the Gulf of Tonkin to justify his request to conduct a “police action” against North Vietnam. The bill he shoved through Congress was actually prepared a month before the alleged incident (which of course did not actually occur). Once again, an American President won congressional approval to commence a war effort. President Reagan wanted to provide military support to the rebels in Nicaragua. When the Congress passed legislation to block his efforts, he authorized a clandestine and illegal operation to support the rebels with arms funded by selling weapons to Iran (the same country that held our embassy employees hostage right up to the day Reagan assumed office). He simply bypassed Congress, relying on his popularity with the American people to forestall any impeachment efforts. Clinton had NATO backing, but not Congress’, for his venture into Kosovo. Fortunately, the Bosnia affair turned out reasonably well. But he could not duplicate that success in Somalia. I think you get the picture without reference to what happened during the Bush administration. Sometimes, our Presidents act in response to eminent threats like Pearl Harbor or 911. Sometimes treaty obligations or other national interest intervene to force their hand like the Kuwait or South Korea invasions. Then there are times our Presidents go rogue of the Constitution and pursue military adventures in the name of what they believe are higher moral principles, as in the Bosnia intervention or the recent Libya bombing campaign. But they never act without political machinations or ramifications. Sometimes political tradeoffs can change the purpose or trajectory of a military campaign. For instance, President Johnson did not want to appear weak in fighting communists because he needed Senator Dirksen’s and Republican support to pass his social agenda. His steady escalation of support for that war was, by his own admission, an attempt to end that war sooner rather than later and to appease his critics on the right. President Bush gave far too much leeway to the war hawks in his administration. Given his move to the right on foreign policy, he was emboldened to push his “compassionate conservative” agenda of prescription drugs for the elderly and reform of Social Security (which still failed to win support from his own party). Currently, President Obama has courted favor with those Republicans who might support him on immigration reform as well as his attempts to deter the use of chemical weapons. In return for their support, he has acceded to the Foreign Relations Committee bill that purports to shift the battle’s momentum in favor of the rebels. In spite of all his rhetoric against involvement in a civil war, he would move America closer to a proxy war—not unlike the Russian’s Afghanistan war where we funded the mujahedeen (which included Osama Bin Laden’s forces, later to become al-Qaeda). At the same time, he is trying to assuage liberal angst by touting his proposed punitive military strike as a “limited” action.

My problem with all this wrangling is not the debate itself. It’s what is debated. Initially, the President defined his objective as deterring the use of chemical weapons on moral grounds. He quoted international agreements that nearly all nations have signed as testimony to his assessment and as justification for American action. So the President never asked for a declaration of war, nor did he propose a strategy to remove Assad from office or support one group over another in that country’s civil war. Clearly, the debate that should have ensued is whether the Administration’s proposed military strike is a valid act of deterrence and whether it represents the will of the international community. It is fair not only to critique the deterrence value of a military strike, but also to consider any potentially deleterious consequences. The use of cruise missiles is not “surgical” in the sense of removing a cancerous tumor, unless you consider taking out a liver or some other vital organ in the process. Congress and the international community should be weighing the President’s proposed form of deterrence against other options. Surely, there are more creative ways to isolate and pressure Assad than to rain cruise missiles upon his people. They seem to have suffered enough already from an internecine struggle to the death. Certainly there are better minds than mine who might be able to propose a more humane response to Assad’s barbarity. If we can obtain an agreement from the Free Syrian Army to divest its country of chemical weapons should they win their struggle, would it not be worth the effort to obtain a similar agreement from the Assad government? The latter might include an agreement not to use these weapons in exchange for non-interference in the Syrian civil war from all parties, including the Russians who claim their resupply of weapons was only a response to the West support of the rebels. Even if Iran cannot be persuaded to join such an agreement, any negotiations involving Iran would be beneficial. Given the West’s long range interest in the region, it would be better to include Iran than to continue the ongoing stalemate to any rapprochement with the regime in Tehran.

The President has raised a serious issue of international significance. Fortunately, he has asked for debate before exercising the enormous military power he has at his disposal. Given the enormity of that power, it behooves Congress and the international community to stay his hand AND provide more humane options. Every solution to a problem looks the same, if all you wield is a hammer.

Today I watched a woman cross a busy intersection diagonally. She avoided the crosswalks that squared the intersection as she rolled her carry-on luggage behind her. Cars stopped in all directions to let her pass She smiled sweetly and even waved at one driver who had to stop rather suddenly. My impression of her—in part formed by that smile and wave—was of a woman returning from a pleasant trip, both happy with herself and oblivious of others. Most people in my generation would find no fault with this woman. In fact, I rather liked her easygoing manner. But there were generations before us who would have taken exception to her casualness. I can hear the voice of my father, a World War II vet, pointing out her disregard for the inconvenience of others and perhaps even calling her out, “Hey, lady, use the crosswalk.”

By contrast, several years ago I found myself walking in a park in Vienna. A few feet in front of me on the same path was a father with his young daughter. She was probably 5 or 6 years old. Suddenly he stopped before a crumpled piece of paper. Without saying a word, he released his daughter’s hand. She ran to the paper, picked it up, and deposited it in a nearby trash receptacle. Returning to her father, she looked up at his face, took his hand, and resumed her walk at his side. So, you might ask, why remember these Austrians at this time and in this context? Well, my strolls on these very separate occasions reveal how people view their role in society—how differently people see their responsibility to others. If you think I’m going too far with this comparison, consider the labels we’ve given to the generations following the so-called “great” generation: beatniks, yuppies, the “me” generation, and generation “X.” These labels too easily lend themselves to a stereotypical generalization: one generation pulled together to save the world, while their posterity sought to garner it for themselves. So what does the “lady crossing the street” have to do with American individualism?

America has always advanced individualism: witness our founding fathers, the frontiersmen, the titans of industry, and the heroes of various civil rights movements. What is unique about American individualism is its pendulum swings. Unbridled, it advances without regard for the rights of others, accumulating wealth at the top echelons of power while reducing underlings to slavery or serf-like conditions of servitude. Laissez faire economics was once touted as the only liberal doctrine that could allow our economy to grow and assure individual freedom of choice and action. Now, of course, it’s a neo-conservative anachronism. But individualism also has another face that raises its head at times to advance the cause of universal freedom and opportunity for everyone. We not only freed the slaves, but at key points in our history eliminated barriers that prohibited women, black, Hispanic, disabled, and immigrant citizens from participating more fully in the American workforce, the electorate, and the marketplace. Between these extremes of individualism—either with or without regard for the rights of others—there is the oblivious individualism I witnessed in the woman innocently crossing the street.

I can respect the neo-conservative push back to crippling regulations without accepting the excesses of laissez faire economics. I also can respect the progressive argument for programs that increase opportunity for those at the bottom of the economic ladder without accepting those excesses that encourage social dependency. These positions both express American individualism and, at differing times, do and should assume ascendancy in our culture and government. They represent the push and pull swings of the pendulum that drives that self-corrective tendency at the heart of the American experience. What we should not accept in ourselves is self-centered apathy. Every American is entitled to the pursuit of happiness, but not without regard for his/her neighbor. American individualism is sometimes brash and insensitive, but it never exists in a vacuum. Only Narcissus is happy with his own reflection.

(To be fair, I owe the woman in my opening paragraph an apology. Hopefully, she’ll never read this blog. Unwittingly, she provided me with a metaphor that I shamefacedly used to make a point.)

Recently a federal judge ruled New York City’s policy of “stop and frisk” unconstitutional. Without sinking into legal terms, for which I’m singularly unqualified, I can understand the judge’s ruling in terms of the Constitution’s stated purpose to balance justice, personal freedom, and “domestic tranquility.” Without a doubt, these are difficult balances to maintain in our modern society. We no longer carry muskets to protect us from foreign invaders; and our need for an armed civilian militia is anachronistic. But our inner cities are a hotbed for all kinds of crime; and youth gangs, among others, carry weapons. Moreover, we are still in the midst of a drug prohibition era where the war against controlled substances has continuously escalated until America now holds 25% of the world’s prisoner population. So “stop and frisk” may seem like a logical response to stem a tide of violent crime and enforce drug laws.

Both those who argue for the NY policy and those who argue against it quote statistics to make their case. And their arguments are the problem. Statistics can help us identify an issue at the societal level. However, when policies are created to deal with the same issue at an individual level, we run into the problem of inapplicability. There is no diet suitable for every individual, just as there is not one ideal dress size for every woman. Madison Avenue has done well to convince us otherwise (yes, I’m a fan of Mad Men). But politicians and legislators would be wise to disagree. Each of us—including police officers—has to deal with unique situations, calling for critical judgment appropriate to the moment. Speaking generally, has the NY policy prevented some crime? And has it violated personal freedom in some cases? Most likely, the answer to both questions is “yes.” So should we then keep a policy that has had some success in crime prevention or should we abolish a policy that seems to violate our civil rights? The dilemma of the NY police is that they are caught in the middle of a debate that they cannot resolve at this general level.

Well, actually they could be part of the solution if the policy makers would stop lobbing statistics at each other and began addressing the real problem. What specific guidance is given the officer at the moment he spies suspicious activity. For example, how is “suspicious” activity defined? Is it somebody testing the locks on every door passed on a street? Or is it somebody wearing a “hoody?” What kind of review is given to each and every “stop and frisk” occurrence? Once again, I’m no legal expert and certainly not a “licensed” bureaucrat; but I offer a simple solution for consideration. Why not have officers provide a citizen stopped and frisked with an official form that states the officer’s name and the reason for his action? I’m not asking the officer to do more that he/she would in issuing a traffic ticket. In fact, he/she might write no more than “loitering in front of a liquor store” or “waving a gun-like item in public.” But the form would give the citizen the right to question the officer’s rationale before a police board or before the courts. Of course, this kind of feedback should be backstopped by enhanced police training. Profiling comes in many forms, not just racial. What the President recently said—“Am I ringing as much bias out of myself as I can”—most especially applies to officers attempting to investigate suspicious activities and keep our streets safe. What we don’t need is the NY mayor pulling statistics out of the hat that attribute a decline in serious crime solely to the “stop and frisk” policy. Perhaps the same correlation could be made to communities coming together to police themselves or to the constructive outlets provided youth by concerned citizens or to an increase in police presence on public streets or to the decline in sugar intake during the same period? That last item aside, there are probably many correlations that could be “creatively” made. But the task before us is not to win an argument but to solve a problem that affects the day-to-day practice of officers doing their best to keep us safe while respecting our civil rights.

I do respect statistical analysis, but it does not and cannot replace individual judgment in real situations.

Patriotism is “love for or devotion to one’s country,” or so says Webster. The word “patriot” is derived from the Latin pater, or father. We owe our sense of the word from the Romans whose devotion to patria, or fatherland, was also wrapped up in their religious devotion to their ancestors. During feudal times this “love of country” was bestowed on the person who sat on a throne. The monarch ruled by “divine right,” as stipulated by the church. However, in our times, this connection between religion and government has been severed, most especially in the American Constitution. That document is secular to the core. So what does it mean when presidents, congressmen/women, and senators take an oath to serve and protect the Constitution “so help me God?” I believe it means that religion—whatever religion is individually observed—must be sworn to serve the Constitution of the United States and not vice versa. This exclusivity of religion is the linchpin that allows for religious freedom. As a result of breaking with historical precedent (i.e., of “God and country”), American patriotism requires a unique oath of office. To what purpose you might ask? Well, the preamble tells us in words that should be emblazoned on every member of our tripartite government: to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide a common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure liberty for ourselves and our posterity. This is a very solemn oath that vivifies our founding document as much as the structural checks and balances woven into its fabric. So how must our political leaders carry out this oath to assure its purpose is realized? Whether in debates on the floor of Congress, in wrangling between the Parties, or in the institutionalized tension between the branches of government, I find at least three prerequisites that must be brought to bear: diverse perspectives on governing is presumed; a firm commitment to respective oaths of office is required as witnessed by the Almighty (“so help me God”); and consensus is obliged by the very words that initially established the rules of our governance, namely, “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union . . .” Sometimes, only the first of these prerequisites are observed. If we Americans pledge allegiance to “one nation under God . . . with liberty and justice for all,” then it behooves our leaders to move us forward as one nation under the auspices of God and the guidance of those governing principles elaborated in the Constitution. No ideological, theological, or philosophical argument should be allowed to take precedent over the oaths and pledges that define us as American patriots. To act otherwise is indeed unpatriotic in our American system. Without consensus, that system is simply dysfunctional. Put in other terms, debate is no more required of us than recognition of our common interest and acceptance of the will of the majority.

Now allegiance is a tricky concept. Its manipulation is responsible for many extreme events in human history: the crusades, the inquisition, nationalist socialism, communist totalitarianism, and so on. What makes Americans potentially different is the presumption that our nation represents its founding principles and that its actions are well-debated and critically appraised in the light of those principles before being enacted. Our soldiers, for instance, risks their lives on that presumption. They don’t serve Islam, Christianity, Hinduism, or any other type of “ism.” They serve “the flag of the United States of America and the republic for which it stands.” During a Democratic administration, members of both Parties fought side-by-side in the Vietnam War, as they did again under Republican administrations in Iraq. All citizens of this great country—and especially the band of brothers and sisters in uniform—must demand that both political Parties and all who serve in government give credence to their oaths of office and fulfill the promise of our Constitution. Its preamble, after all, is our common ground.

One final note: patriotism in itself is not what makes us exceptional. Our form of constitutional government is, however, exceptional in the context of history. Nevertheless, John Adams once referred to it as an experiment, for he foresaw its dependence on the wisdom of succeeding generations. No one can predict the future. But we can build on the legacy left to us for our posterity. Our current President keeps reminding us of our need to form a more perfect union. The way to do that is to incorporate the stated goals of our founding fathers into the fabric of American life and to hold our political leaders accountable for the same in their governance. Remember, “We the People . . .”

In our times, the meaning of liberalism and conservatism is . . . well, confusing, even contradictory. According to Webster, conservatism is “a political philosophy based on tradition and social stability, stressing established institutions, and preferring gradual development to abrupt change.” So how does this definition explain why many conservatives want to reduce the role of government, eliminate several cabinet level departments and the IRS, emphasize polarizing policies that would reverse decades-long practices designed to enhance women’s health care and promote citizens’ voting? To be fair, let’s see how Webster treats liberalism: “a political philosophy based on belief in progress, the essential goodness of man, and the autonomy of the individual and standing for the protection of political and civil liberties. . . in economics, emphasizing individual freedom from restraint and usually based on free competition, the self-regulating market, and the gold standard.” So does this characterization help us understand why many liberals support punitive sentencing such as three-strike laws (versus rehabilitation), an extensively regulated economy, and the Fed’s manipulation of the money market? Perhaps what these definitions do reveal is that Webster no longer reflects the contemporary sense of these “isms.” If you, my reader, will allow me, I would like to simplify the matter, drawing from an encapsulation of historical perspectives. In the most generic sense, liberals have always stood for human progress, while conservatives have been steadfast in the preservation of our human heritage. If we could start with this premise, we would probably all find a common ground. When desperate ideological forces work together, you have the constitutional convention of 1787. When they don’t, you have civil war.

When I speak of “common ground” in our times, the last thing that comes to mind is Republican/Democrat compromise. After all, Republicans are composed of conservatives, moderates, neo-conservatives, tea-partiers, libertarians, and far-right “radicals.” Democrats are no less uniform since they comprise liberals, blue-dogs, red-state democrats, progressives, and far-left “radicals.” Many of these designees resist the labels affixed to them by opponents: liberal Democrats now prefer to be called “progressive,” while conservative Republicans project Janus-like facades, as very conservative in primaries and moderate in general elections. Neither party member wants to be called “radical,” even though radical policies proliferate—like sequestration, preemptive war, drone strikes against sovereign states, secret courts, the internationally condemned detention of enemy combatants without trial and/or sentencing, and the refusal to pay our national debt (as in 2011 and now threatened anew this year). The current confluence of these liberal/conservative parties has produced policies that would make our founding fathers question the relevance of our Constitution. When I consider how often I hear that memorable document misquoted, I cringe and can only conclude it is so maligned for not having been read. Or worse, it is being used as a bogus authority for policies of dubious or even insidious value.

Maybe this blog is nothing more than a rant born of frustration. My lone logical resolve may well be a refusal to be labeled liberal or conservative. Either label prohibits honest dialogue for each admits diverse definitions and irrational arguments. It has been said that we tend to believe whatever we want to believe. It seems to me that party affiliation in the context I’ve drawn here is a box too enclosed for any critical mind. Should party loyalty continue to supersede reason, then we will have all succumbed to “The State of -Ism.”