The inauguration of the president is an occasion to reflect on the
solemn ritual that symbolizes the transfer of state power. It is the formal
event where we, as citizens, are all asked to move on. As there are no tanks
in the streets and no bloodshed, the pundits are telling us, "See, the system
works after all! Indeed, what better evidence is there than the peaceful
handing over of power?"
This is reminiscent of another famous transfer of power - when the forces
of Henry Bolingbrook (later Henry IV) vanquished the army of King Richard II,
Henry came to claim the crown. Instead of voluntarily taking the crown off his
own head, the cunning Richard said prophetically, "Cousin, seize the crown!"
(For the next half-century, the War of the Roses pitted two great houses as
bitterly disputed claimants to the throne.)
The issue now, as then, was one of legitimacy. Although not a coronation
following victory on the battlefield, much of the nation sensed that
yesterday's inauguration was clouded by a feeling that something is profoundly
amiss. Bush officially won Florida by fewer than 500 votes, but we now know
that Florida officially disqualified at least 120,000 votes (80,000 overcounts
and 40,000-plus undercounts were disqualified).
Because Florida has a remarkable set of sunshine laws that permit access to
election results, the vote is now being recounted by a consortium of news
organizations. We will, therefore, have a better idea of what really happened,
but only after an inauguration that asked us to go quietly and accept the
legitimacy - to peacefully "get over it."
Can we? Should we? On that fateful day in December, when the Supreme Court
majority voted 5 to 4 to stop the Florida recount, Justice Antonin Scalia made
a remarkably bold move to pre-empt a latter-day version of "seize the crown."
It was Scalia who spoke the otherwise unutterable prospect: A recount might do
"irreparable harm" to George W. Bush's claim on the presidency.
In the latest issue of American Prospect, Paul Starr writes: "It is as if a
crime had been committed in broad daylight by someone so powerful that the
witnesses were told they had no alternative but to return home and be silent."
Expressed concerns about "harm to Bush" follow starkly partisan lines. Just
after the Supreme Court's decision to end the Florida recount, a Harris poll
found that 77 percent of the Republicans thought that the outcome was fair,
but 80 percent of the Democrats thought it was unfair. Without legitimacy,
those who govern usually turn to dangerous distractions, as portrayed in the
film "Wag the Dog." Presidents can use their role as commander of the armed
forces to engage in numerous "diversions," both at home and abroad.
There was yet another dark cloud over this inauguration. The same five
Supreme Court justices who stopped the Florida recount by invoking the equal
protection clause were peculiarly selective in where they placed their
concerns about "equal protection." Specifically, by focusing on the Florida
Supreme Court's need to establish criteria for evaluating ballots, they
ignored numerous prior inequalities affecting voter participation and
inclusion.
In the 16 Florida counties that used punch-card machines, the rate of
rejection of presidential votes was more than six times that in counties using
optical scanners. African Americans were nearly 20 percent more likely than
whites to live in areas in which punch cards were used. What of their equal
protection?
In this context, the nomination of John Ashcroft for the position of the
nation's chief law enforcement officer takes on a vital and important meaning.
There is always discretion in which laws to vigorously enforce and which laws
get low priority. Prior to the Florida election, civil rights groups had asked
the Justice Department for assistance in monitoring the election. The request
was ignored. With his record on civil rights, we know what we can expect from
Ashcroft if he is confirmed.
The absence of tanks does not mean the absence of disturbing whispers of a
purloined presidency. Watching the parade down Pennsylvania Avenue, some of
the adults undoubtedly whispered, but many others were obviously asking out
loud about the Emperor's New Prose. This would be the "compassionate
conservatism" embodied in the nomination of Ashcroft to the position of
attorney general at the time of serious challenge to the legitimacy of the
whole executive branch.
Democracy is not well served by our pretending that this was an election-as-
usual. Indeed, there is something unworthy of the democratic principle of one-
person-one-vote to ask that we ignore the special circumstances that produced
the outcome we witnessed yesterday. The far greater danger is that we forget
just how much "eternal vigilance is the price of freedom."
Troy Duster is director of the American Cultures Center at the University of California at Berkeley and professor of sociology at New York University.
©2001 San Francisco Chronicle
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