The Road to the Trump Presidency

by Stephen Knott, author of The Lost Soul of the American Presidency; The Decline into Demagoguery and the Prospects for Renewal / Opinions expressed here are entirely his own.

Donald Trump is everything critics of a populist presidency, particularly Alexander Hamilton, warned about—a demagogue who practices the “little arts of popularity” for purposes of firing up his base, a man lacking the attributes of a magnanimous soul, a purveyor of conspiracy theories, and a president incapable of distinguishing between himself and the office he temporarily holds.

Yet Hamilton’s fear of a demagogic, populist presidency, was realized long before the election of Donald Trump. In fact, the seeds were first planted by Thomas Jefferson in his “Revolution of 1800.” The Sage of Monticello launched the presidency on a populist course that, in the long run, undermined the intentions of the framers of the Constitution. While many members of the founding generation were worried that a demagogue manipulating public passions would destroy the republic, Jefferson argued that public opinion served as the “best criterion of what is best,” and that enlisting and engaging that opinion would “give strength to the government.” As the nation’s only nationally elected figure, Jefferson’s executive was rooted in popular support and thus uniquely situated to serve as a spokesman for and implementer of the majority’s wishes.

Jefferson turned his rival Alexander Hamilton’s arguments on their head, arguing that popular opinion conferred constitutional legitimacy. Jefferson made this abundantly clear in a letter he wrote to James Madison in 1787: “after all, it is my principle that the will of the Majority should always prevail.” In essence, the majority would govern, not the Constitution.

The “Revolution of 1800” paved the way for the populist presidency of Andrew Jackson who held that the fundamental principle of the American government was majority rule. While the American framers believed in government by consent, they did not believe in government by the majority, believing instead in a system of representation and other “filtering” elements including judicial review, indirect election of Senators, and the Electoral College. Jackson believed that checks on majority rule, including the Electoral College, represented a perversion of the principle that “as few impediments as possible should exist to the free operation of the public will.”

As all demagogues are inclined to do, Andrew Jackson played upon fears to mobilize his base. No one understood this better than John Quincy Adams, a target of Jackson’s wrath and a champion of the rights of other frequent targets of those resentments, including abolitionists, free Blacks, and Native Americans. Unpopular minorities bear the brunt of the populist presidency, and Adams was one of the last of a dying breed who understood the threat this presented to the American body politic. According to Adams, Jackson was “a man governed by passion rather than reason, a demagogue.”

With Jackson’s election to the presidency, and with the wider success of his movement at the state and local level, the American republic moved from a system designed to check majority tyranny to one where an unfettered majority governed, using its power at the state level to disenfranchise an unpopular minority (free blacks) and to press for the expansion of slavery, and leveraging its powers at the state and the federal levels to remove a different but equally unpopular minority from its midst, Native Americans.

The coalition Jackson assembled was, at bottom, a cauldron of boiling partisan, racial, and class resentments, and in Jackson’s case, all of those elements, plus decades of personal resentments thrown into the mix. Thirty years later, Jackson’s fellow Tennessean, Andrew Johnson, who considered Jackson his beau ideal of a president, stirred the same populist pot on his path to power, rising to prominence as the nineteenth century’s version of Donald Trump.

The refounded presidency of Jefferson and Jackson was embraced by many twentieth century progressives. While Jefferson and Jackson did not believe in an activist federal government, these progressives did. But having unmoored the presidency from the Constitution and grounded it in public opinion, it was a small step for Jefferson’s and Jackson’s heirs to claim that the president spoke for the majority and was uniquely situated to view the whole, and that the people demanded a federal government that could be as big as it wanted to be, led by a president who was as big a man as he wanted to be.

Progressive politicians, Franklin Roosevelt in particular, along with historians such as Arthur Schlesinger Jr. and Henry Steele Commager, considered Andrew Jackson to be a precursor to Franklin Roosevelt and the New Deal. The age of Jackson and the age of Roosevelt may have been a century apart, but both men fought the elites of their day and considered themselves the tribune of the people. As with Jackson, FDR was a genius at firing up his base by labeling his opponents as un-American evil doers.

Sadly, Donald Trump represents the apotheosis of those who sought a more responsive, unrestrained presidency, rooted in public opinion. This refounded presidency placed the office on a dangerous and unsustainable path, a path of heightened expectations that encourages a contemptuous view of checks and balances. It also diminished the important unifying role the president was expected to play as head of state, forcing him to become a party leader and policy formulator—in short, a perpetual partisan lightning rod. All of this has contributed to an erosion of respect for the office.

The United States would be well served to return to the constitutional presidency envisioned by George Washington, Alexander Hamilton and James Madison. They designed a presidency of “sober expectations,” one that did not pander to or manipulate the public, one that was averse to the notion that it was the president’s job to provide “visionary leadership,” and one that was less inclined to implement the majority will at the expense of political, racial, and economic minorities.

The prospects for a renewal of the office are slim, but not impossible. A recovery of the constitutional presidency, one respectful of the rule of law and appreciative of the role of the president as head of state, rather than full-time rabble rouser, is within our reach. It would require, however, a renewed appreciation for the limits of the office and the limits of politics, along with an understanding that history is littered with examples of leaders who, as Alexander Hamilton put it, “overturned the liberties of republics.” These demagogues began their careers “by paying an obsequious court to the people; commencing demagogues, and ending tyrants.”

Stephen F. Knott (@publius57) is professor of national security affairs at the United States Naval War College in Newport, Rhode Island. His many books include Alexander Hamilton and the Persistence of Myth and Rush to Judgment: George W. Bush, the War on Terror, and His Critics, both from Kansas, and Secret and Sanctioned: Covert Operations and the American Presidency.

Alexander Hamilton and the Persistence of Myth

Layout 1 (Page 1)Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Broadway blockbuster Hamilton kept Alexander Hamilton on the $10 bill and has transformed this unlikely founding father into something of a celebrity. But while Hamilton is currently seen as a heroic figure, throughout much of the nation’s history he was seen as “un-American” – a closet monarchist who hated the “great beast,” the people, and a man whose dictatorial ambitions were checked by the champion of the common man, Thomas Jefferson.

It was Jefferson and his lieutenants who engaged in one of the first campaigns based on the politics of personal destruction. Jefferson believed that Hamilton favored “a monarchy bottomed on corruption” and had betrayed the spirit of 1776. Hamilton was in essence a British agent, and this cunning immigrant from the Caribbean repeatedly manipulated an aging, somewhat dim-witted President George Washington. Hamilton’s premature death in 1804 at the hands of Vice President Aaron Burr presented the Jeffersonians with a chance to “spin” the historical record and further distort Hamilton’s principles and practices. John Adams, who also despised Hamilton, partly for good reason, would later join Jefferson in crafting a narrative which portrayed Hamilton in a most unflattering light. Jefferson’s description of Hamilton as a plutocratic power-monger merged over time with Adams contempt for Hamilton’s character. Adams believed that Hamilton suffered from a “superabundance of secretions” which led him to engage in unbridled whoring. Additionally, both Jefferson and Adams were nativists, and it perturbed them that this “Creole bastard,” who was not quite “American,” held such sway over George Washington, whom they also resented.

Jefferson’s heirs in the Democratic Party, particularly Andrew Jackson and Martin Van Buren, echoed the Sage of Monticello’s caricatured conception of Hamilton, but the Civil War and the rise of the anti-slavery Republican Party provided a brief respite from populist Hamilton-bashing. A series of Republican presidents, including James Garfield, Rutherford B. Hayes, and Benjamin Harrison, all deeply admired Hamilton for his nationalism and to some extent his anti-slavery stance, which stood in stark contrast to Jefferson’s neo-secessionism.

Hamilton’s reputation peaked at the dawn of the 20th century, when Republicans such as Theodore Roosevelt invoked Hamilton’s nationalism and his embrace of “energetic” government to provide a founding imprimatur for his progressive agenda.  One of Roosevelt’s less than progressive successors, Warren G. Harding, revered Hamilton, and his Treasury Secretary, Andrew Mellon, erected a statue of the first Treasury Secretary that stands to this day outside his former cabinet department. But Harding’s and Mellon’s embrace of Hamilton was guaranteed to offend progressives and populists, and when the Great Depression came, Hamilton was held almost as culpable as Mellon and Herbert Hoover.

Other than Thomas Jefferson, no American contributed more to Hamilton’s negative image in the American mind than Franklin D. Roosevelt. The only book review FDR ever wrote was of Claude Bowers’ Jefferson and Hamilton: The Struggle for Democracy in America (1925), a sophomoric account of Jefferson’s gallant resistance to Hamilton’s plutocratic plotting. FDR loved the book, and would go on to present the same caricatured account in many speeches and letters. It was Roosevelt who elevated Jefferson into the American Pantheon with Washington and Lincoln, and it was Roosevelt who led the drive to erect the beautiful tidal basin memorial to the Sage.

Hamilton’s reputation during the Second World War sank so low that he was seen by many as Joseph Goebbels in a waistcoat and breeches. His defenders were compelled to argue that he would, in fact, have opposed the Nazis. At the height of the war one of the leading Broadway shows was The Patriots – the plot of this multiple-award winning play revolved around a cigar chomping Hamilton stomping around the stage all the while proclaiming that the American people were “drunken swine.” FDR invited the playwright to stage a command performance in Washington and to attend the dedication of the Jefferson Memorial.

This image held well into the 20th century, but began to breakdown partly in response to Hamilton’s status as the sole immigrant among the key founders. This status will likely secure his reputation in an increasingly diverse America. Hamilton’s standing has also improved due to increased scholarly appreciation of the role of race in American society. Jefferson’s role as one of the largest slave owners in Virginia stands in contrast to Hamilton’s founding membership in the New York Manumission Society. And, fair or not, it appears to be an iron law in American history that as one falls the other rises. Jefferson would have it no other way; as the Sage himself once put it, “opposed in death as in life.”

–Written by Stephen F. Knott, author of Alexander Hamilton and the Persistence of Myth

Liberty & Equality

9780700621743To a remarkable extent, American politics has always been thoughtful and American thought has always been political.  In the pages of S. Adam Seagrave’s “Liberty & Equality: The American Conversation,” we see how some of our greatest minds have grappled with the issues of liberty and equality: Tocqueville and Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton as Publius in The Federalist, James Madison, George Washington, William Lloyd Garrison, Frederick Douglass, Abraham Lincoln debating Stephen Douglas, and Franklin D. Roosevelt.  In essays responding to these primary sources, some of today’s finest scholars take up topics critical to the American experiment in liberal democracy–political inequality, federalism, the separation of powers, the relationship between religion and politics, the history of slavery and the legacy of racism.  Together these essays and sources help to clarify the character, content, and significance of American political thought taken as a whole. They illuminate and continue the conversation that has animated and distinguished the American political tradition from the beginning—and, hopefully, better equip readers to contribute to that conversation.