Transitions
Sanford Levinson'
No one interested in contemporary comparative politics can be
unfamiliar with the notion of transition. What Ruti Teitel calls "transitional
jurisprudence," whose central topic is "the role of law in political
transformation," 1 has become a major genre of contemporary legal analysis
as the frequency of such transformations has become well-nigh dazzling, in
countries and regions ranging from Albania to Uruguay and from El
Salvador to South Africa.2 All of these countries represent the shift from
dictatorship--or, as in the case of South Africa, an oppressive herrenvolk
democracy-to a more liberal democratic order. Thus, South Africa's
President, Nelson Mandela, has referred to the "remarkable movement in
various regions of the world away from undemocratic and repressive rule
towards the establishment of constitutional democracies." 3 There may be
examples of transitions in the other direction--one may well wonder if this
is not underway in contemporary Russia-but, for obvious reasons, they do
not generate the same interest among liberal political theorists and
constitutional theorists as do the other, presumably far happier, transitions.
I consider Bruce Ackerman to be America's greatest theorist of
transition, at least with respect to the fundamental legal questions attached
to transitional regimes.4 Though his primary interest is transition within the
t W. St. John Garwood and W. St. John Garwood Jr. Regents Chair in Law, University of
Texas Law School. I am very grateful to The Yale Law Journal for organizing the Symposium at
which an earlier version of this Essay was presented. I have also benefited from suggestions given
me by Jim Fleming, Scot Powe, and Fred Schauer in response to that version.
1. Ruti Teitel, TransitionalJurisprudence:The Role of Law in PoliticalTransfonnation, 106
YALE L.J. 2009, 2009 (1997); see also Run TErrEL, TRANSITIONAL JUSTICE (forthcoming 1999)
(studying transitional regimes, particularly in Latin America and Eastern Europe).
2. 1-3 TRANSITIONAL JUSTICE: How EMERGING DEMOCRACIES RECKON WITH FORMER
REGIMES (Neil J. Kritz ed., 1995) [hereinafter EMERGING DEMOCRACIES]; see also
TRANSITIONAL JUSTICE AND THE RULE OF LAW INNEW DEMOCRACIES (A. James McAdams ed.,
1997) (describing various transitions, including those in Greece, Hungary, Bolivia, South Africa,
Argentina, Chile, East Germany, and Poland).
3. See Nelson Mandela, Forewordto 1 EMERGING DEMOCRACIES, supra note 2, at xi, xi.
4. I am also an unabashed admirer of Ackerman's general enterprise, as evidenced by my
comment, on the back jacket of the first volume of We the People, describing Ackerman's work as
"[tihe most important project now underway in the entire field of constitutional theory." I BRUCE
ACKERMAN, WE THE PEOPLE: FOUNDATIONS at bookjacket (1991). No one has had more
influence on my own work over the past decade. See, for example, RESPONDING TO
2215
2216
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
American constitutional system, he is scarcely uninterested in many of
these other transitions, about which he has written a significant, albeit short,
book.5
Ackerman's enterprise has both empirical and normative dimensions.
That is, the first contribution that Ackerman makes is to a better
understanding of how constitutional change has in fact occurred, especially
in episodes that can be easily described as transitional for the United
States.6 The empirical reality that these changes scarcely fit any orthodox
understanding of Article V generates the concomitant necessity, for anyone
trying to construct a plausible normative theory of constitutional legitimacy,
to take account of the actualities of change rather than continue to take
pious refuge in civics-book accounts of the process. Ackerman, of course,
presents a legitimating account that allows us at once to understand and
then to celebrate the creativity of Americans as constitution-makers and
constitution-revisers. Facts and values end up conjoined in an ultimately
happy unity, at least so far as the United States is concerned. To be sure,
things are not all perfect, but they have been consistently getting better.7
A central question facing any and all transitional regimes is the stance
to be taken toward the miscreants of the now happily discredited political
order. Americans' may underestimate the importance of this question, both
empirically and normatively, because of some peculiar elements that may
have made our own history particularly happy (or, at least, less unhappy
than that of other countries that have undergone significant transitions).
Begin with the elemental fact that the losers in the colonial civil war that
broke out in 1775 and concluded in 1783 were kind enough to slink away to
Canada and England. Early Americans did not then have to decide what to
do with the Loyalist leaders who had cast their lot with King George III and
his minions. Less fortunate successor regimes, who must confront former
oppressors as flesh-and-blood presences, must always decide how much to
settle scores from the past, as against attempting to integrate the losers by a
tactful silence about what has happened. Should one attempt to discover the
THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT (Sanford
Levinson ed., 1995) [hereinafter RESPONDING TO IMPERFECTION], which was distinctly inspired
by Ackerman's (and his colleague Akhil Amar's) critiques of the conventional understanding of
constitutional amendment within the American system.
5. BRUCE ACKERMAN, THE FUTURE OF LIBERAL REVOLUTION (1992).
6. I also greatly admire, and have been influenced by, the work of Stephen Griffin, who asks,
IMPERFECTION:
especially at the empirical level, similar questions. See STEPHEN M. GRIFFIN, AMERICAN
CONSTITUTIONALISM (1996); Stephen M. Griffin, ConstitutionalTheory Transformed, 108 YALE
L.J. 2115 (1999).
7. Lucas Powe questions the progressive narrative in his own review of Ackerman. See L.A.
Powe, Jr., Ackermania or Uncomfortable Truths?, 15 CONST. COMMENTARY 547, 560-61 (1998)
(reviewing 2 BRUCE ACKERMAN, WE THE PEOPLE: TRANSFORMATIONS (1998)).
8. At least when "American" is taken to mean persons within the United States who fixate
exclusively on the history of the United States.
1999]
Levinson
2217
specifics of past misconduct and then seek to engage in corrective justice by
punishing those who engaged in such behavior? Or is it better to adopt a
policy of self-conscious blindness?
Ackerman almost wholly ignores this issue in his otherwise remarkably
detailed analysis of Reconstruction politics and constitutional theory.
Should, for example, Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis, among many
others, have been tried (and executed) for treason? Or was it desirable to
adopt a Lincolnian policy of "charity" toward the white Southern losers,
even if this were to mean, as a practical, legal, and moral matter, that the
legal consequences of the War were limited to the adoption of the
Thirteenth Amendment? Transformations is, obviously, devoted to
examining the conflict that ensued between President Andrew Johnson and
the Republicans who thought that more-indeed, much more-was
required, but it is worth noticing how comparatively detached Ackerman is
in presenting his account. Thus, as I shall also note later, Johnson is as
much hero as villain, inasmuch as he played at least a quasi-heroic role in
standing firm (as the antithesis) against the Republicans (with their thesis as
to how the Constitution must be revised), thus making clear to the
American electorate how truly radical were the changes that the GOP
sought (and how radical, in addition, were the methods of change they were
willing to adopt). There is basically no discussion, for example, of the calls
for some measure of just punishment of those who had led the South into
disaster, save for brief reference to the policy of barring "white Southerners
of doubtful loyalty from the new black-and-white voting registries." 9 There
is no mention even of such important cases as Ex parte Garlandl° or
Cummings v. Missouri," both involving the use of retroactive loyalty oaths
to bar participants in the rebellion from certain occupations (Cummings) or
from practicing law in federal courts (Garland). Being barred from
participation in the new governments should have been the least worry of
many of those who had engaged in the great insurrection (unless, of course,
one credits the constitutional argument behind secession and, therefore,
finds Lincoln's decision to go to war problematic).12
The persona behind Transformations is someone whose passions are
primarily engaged by the great conflicts among constitutional theorists
rather than someone who is passionately involved in the flesh-and-blood
9. 2 ACKERMAN, supra note 7, at 212,463 n.8 (1998).
10. 71 U.S. 333 (1867).
11. 71 U.S. 277 (1867).
12. Ackerman in fact scants the deep constitutional issues at the heart of the secession issue,
taldng as a (relative) given the illegitimacy of secession. For what it is worth, I think there is
substantial merit in the Southern position and that the war was justified by the injustice (rather
than the illegality per se) of the Confederate regime.
2218
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
issues, including those involving retribution and punishment, occupying
many of the actual participants in politics.
The same persona is apparent, I believe, in some of Ackerman's
comments regarding transitions in Eastern Europe. He is severely critical of
those who would "squander moral capital in an ineffective effort to right
past wrongs-creating martyrs and fostering political alienation, rather than
contributing to a genuine sense of vindication." 13 Indeed, he says, "[m]oral
capital is better spent in educating the population in the limits of the law" 14
rather than engaging in "a quixotic quest after the mirage of corrective
justice."' 15 And Ackerman is concerned not only about the effective
expenditure of political capital, where his skeptical notes may be welltaken. He also cautions that any attempts to engage in corrective justice will
generate "the perpetuation of moral arbitrariness and the creation of a new
generation of victims" 16 because of the inevitable deviations from (a
perhaps idealized notion of) due process that would attach to trials.
What should be the fate, for example, of the various files that detail the
injustices visited in past regimes (and, quite often, the identity of the
wrongdoers)? Ackerman's answer is remarkably forthright: "Bum
them ... ." " Only such a suppression of even truthful materials about the
past will prevent a "spiral of incivility, which will poison the political
atmosphere by leading to charges and countercharges, public and private,
over past collaboration." 18 Ackerman believes that it is essential to dampen
the new political winners' urge toward retribution against their former
oppressors. "There is enough pain in the world without our creating more
in the hope that it will somehow ease our collective confrontation with the
past-especially when the demand for retribution endangers the
community-building process central to constitutional legitimation."' 9 The
task for "liberal revolutionaries" is "to shape retributive urges into
manageable forms," 2 and one mode of such shaping, apparently, is the
suppression of the past.
There is, obviously, nothing necessarily "wrong" with such advice;
rather, the point is that one has to have a certain notion of what it is realistic
13. ACKERMAN, supra note 5, at 72 (1992); see also Steven R. Ratner, New Democracies,
Old Atrocities: An Inquiry in InternationalLaw, 87 GEO. L.J. 707, 709 (1999) (discussing the
tension between international-law norms demanding accountability for violations of human rights
and the possible necessity, on the part of transitional democracies, to sacrifice such accountability
in order to safeguard fragile democratic institutions).
14. ACKERMAN, supranote 5, at 72. (emphasis added).
15. Id. at 73.
16. Id.
17. Id. at 81
18. Id.
19. Id. at 98
20. Id.
1999]
Levinson
2219
to ask of people, including asking them essentially to suppress any urges
they might have to punish those who did them grievous harm.
As I learned this past May, during a visit to South Africa to participate
in a conference on that country's Truth and Reconciliation Commission,
Ackerman's fame is indeed worldwide-though partisans of the
Commission deem him, I think accurately, far more foe than friend. I find
Ackerman's views disturbing, given my own view of the Commission as a
remarkably innovative, indeed inspiring, approach to coming to terms with
the appalling history of the prior regime (and those who ran it), while
remaining within the boundaries generated by the desire to prevent civil
war and ultimately to capture the loyalty of that regime's adherents.2'
What is at stake is most eloquently expressed by the English historian
Timothy Garton Ash in The File,' a truly remarkable meditation on the
proper response to the now-available files that allow people to discover the
identity of those who informed the East German security apparatus, the
Stasi, about them. Such information revealed the faithlessness of associates,
friends, family,' and, in one notable case, an individual's husband.24 "Had
the files not been opened, they might still be brother and brother, man and
wife-their love enduring, a fortress sure upon the rock of lies."' As
Garton Ash writes:
Two schools of old wisdom face each other across the valley of the
files. On the one side, there is the old wisdom of the Jewish
tradition: to remember is the secret of redemption. And that of
George Santayana, so often quoted in relation to Nazism: those
who forget the past are condemned to repeat it. On the other side,
there is the profound insight of the historian Ernest Renan that
every nation is a community both of shared memory and of shared
forgetting. "Forgetting," writes Renan, "and I would say even
historical error, is an essential factor in the history of a
nation." ... Historically, the advocates of forgetting are many and
impressive. They range from Cicero in 44 BC, demanding just two
days after Caesar's murder that the memory of past discord be
consigned to "eternal oblivion", to Churchill in his Zurich speech
21. See MARTHA MINOW, BETWEEN VENGEANCE AND FORGIVENESS: FACING HISTORY
AFTER GENOCIDE AND MASS VIOLENCE 52-90 (1998) (discussing truth commissions and, more
specifically, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission).
22. TIMOTHY GARTON ASH, THE FILE: A PERSONAL HISTORY (Flamingo Pub'g ed. 1997).
23. See id. at 18 (disclosing the identity of an individual's brother as an informant).
24. See id. (detailing Vera Wollenberger's discovery that her husband-whom she
subsequently divorced-had been informing on her to the Stasi).
25. Id.
2220
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
two thousand years later, recalling Gladstone's appeal for "a
blessed act of oblivion" between former enemies.26
I think it is fair to describe Ackerman as a proponent, at least in the
contexts presented earlier, of "oblivion." There is, of course, a certain
irony in this portrayal of Ackerman as an ally of Renan in counseling
forgetting, for no one who reads his work on America's own transitions can
miss Ackerman's zeal to destroy the traditional "professional narrative," 27
which rests, he convincingly demonstrates, on a willful blindness to the
uncomfortable truths of our enacted constitutional history. This version of
Ackerman might well be compared to the relative at the family reunion who
insists on interrupting the family patriarch during his ritual telling of the
family's received myth and pointing out that great-grandfather or
grandmother was scarcely so conventional as the myth suggests. The family
should be forced to realize that its later prosperity may rest on the
foundation of stolen land (or, perhaps more tellingly, given Ackerman's
overall thesis, land whose possession was ultimately legitimized by
operation of the peculiar doctrine of adverse possession).
For Ackerman, our congealed historical myth portrays a decidedly
antiseptic version of American constitutional development with two dire
consequences. Not only does the professional narrative make it impossible
to grasp what truly happened, but, just as importantly, it also weakens
present-day Americans as a people. We have, much to our detriment,
chosen to discard the stirring example provided us by our nation's greatest
leaders, who were capable of rising to the challenges posed by broader
developments within the American society and economy and, if need be,
discard the received legal idols in order to respond to what Holmes called
"[t]he felt necessities of the time." '
Assuming that I am correct in detecting a tension between these two
phases of Ackerman's thought, how might they be resolved? One might
begin by recognizing the extent to which Ackerman is best conceptualized
as a decidedly normative theorist, not a "mere" historian. That is to say, to
the extent that he advises Eastern European countries-or, indeed, South
Africa-to stop dwelling on the past, he is doing so for political reasons.
There are certain secrets best left unexposed, either forever or at least until
the exposure does not carry with it the potential for adverse political
consequences. A more disciplinarily-rooted historian might well believe
that her task is to ferret out the secrets of the past regardless of the
consequences. It is not her responsibility, or so the argument might go, to
26. Id. at 200-01.
27. 2 ACKERMAN, supra note 7, at 7.
28. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, THE COMMON LAW 1 (1881).
1999]
Levinson
2221
rein in the truth in the service of political goals. For Ackerman, however,
the decision to become, on the one hand, a dedicated historical archeologist,
uncovering lost secrets, or, on the other, the stern opponent of "making
unnecessary (and politically dysfunctional) trouble," is the product of
distinctly political judgment.
Ackerman's central political goals are twofold and, perhaps, slightly
contradictory, as one would expect from someone both as democratic and
as liberal as he is. One goal expresses Ackerman's democratic impulse. He
wants to generate, both in the United States and abroad, a feeling of
empowerment on the part of the demos, who will exercise the basic right of
self-determination to create their own political worlds and forge their own
political futures. For Ackerman, the history of American constitutional
development is the story of such self-determination: a story that is
inspirational to all, at least if that history is retrieved and taught to the
citizenry (and, indeed, to the entire world). But the other goal is to preserve
the basic structure of individual rights as understood by the great tradition
of liberal thought, as developed in Ackerman's own Social Justice in the
LiberalState.29 Thus, as already noted, one of the reasons for his opposition
to corrective justice in transitional regimes is the inability to adhere to
liberal norms. He argues that "liberal revolutionaries," i.e., those who
proudly proclaim that they want something more than rule by an
untrammeled majority, "will take the claims of criminal due process
seriously," which means that "[t]hey can ill afford to begin their regime
with show trials reminiscent of the Communist or Nazi past." 3 0 For
Ackerman, "[t]here must be punctiliousprocedural safeguards: the accused
must be given abundant opportunity to defend themselves with skilled
lawyers," 31 who, presumably, must be provided by the states should the
defendants not be able to afford such attorneys. Moreover, "guilt must be
proved beyond reasonable doubt." 32 To put it mildly, it is so unlikely that
any transitional regime can meet such standards-to pay for the lawyers
alone would bankrupt many struggling regimes-that it is better to forego
any attempt at corrective justice.
I believe that this exposes a deep tension within Ackerman's thought.
On the one hand, Ackerman, our greatest theorist of transition, wants us to
realize that the suggested binary opposition between "transitional" and
"constitutional democratic" regimes is an altogether dubious one. Were
Ackerman more like his colleague Jack Balkin, he might well describe his
project as a "deconstructionist" one, whereby we are led to realize, against
29. BRUcE A. ACKERMAN, SOCIAL JUSTICE IN THE LIBERAL STATE (1980).
30. ACKEnIAN, supra note 5, at 74.
31. Id. (emphasis added).
32. Id.
2222
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
the resistance provided by our adherence to congealed conventions-i.e.,
the "professional narrative" -that the traits we identify with transitional
regimes, including deviations from the presumed imperatives of mature
"constitutional democracy" (if they were already conforming with such
imperatives, they would, after all, not be labeled "transitional") are in fact
present in the most mature, well-established constitutional political orders.
That is, it is not only Albania, Uruguay, or South Africa that must confront
the deep legal dilemmas presented by transitions; it is also the United States
itself. On the other hand, however, Ackerman seems resistant to his own
insight insofar as he sometimes appears to deny the real costs of transitions,
the eggs that must be broken in order to create the omelets of a new
political order. One is rarely presented the luxury of being able to bring
about the fundamental changes one desires while, at the same time,
remaining impeccably faithful to one's favorite notions of procedural
regularity.
One might try to minimize the tension by noting the following
difference between the three "constitutional moments" that are the subject
of Transformations-the drafting and ratification of the Constitution,
Reconstruction following the Civil War, and the New Deal-and the
contemporary realities of South Africa. The participants in the American
moments, in contrast to, for example, South African Nationalists or ANC
revolutionaries, are now, with few exceptions, safely dead and buried.
Indeed, given that these few exceptions are, obviously, the protagonists in
the great New Deal struggles, it is not simply that they are now in their
eighties and nineties; much more important is that even at the time of the
New Deal, almost no one suggested that "corrective justice" be visited
upon the "Old Order" that took America into Depression.3 3 Whatever his
opponents thought of Herbert Hoover, no one thought of him as a criminal;
indeed, he had made his reputation as a great humanitarian. Even though
this reputation was tarnished by his seeming inattentiveness to the victims
of the Depression, few could have plausibly described Hoover as a moral
monster.
This is, however, obviously not the case with the denizens of the Old
South responsible first for slavery and then for secession (and the death of
one in fifty Americans). 4 They are, of course, long dead, as are those who
33. See generally ARTHUR M. SCHLESINGER, JR., THE CRISIS OF THE OLD ORDER (1957)
(describing the political and economic philosophies that prevailed in the United States between
1919 and 1933).
34. "[A]t least 620,000 American soldiers lost their lives ....
" James M. McPherson, Civil
War, in THE READER'S COMPANION TO AMERICAN HISTORY, 182, 185 (Eric Foner & John A.
Garrity eds., 1991). The total population of the United States in 1860 was approximately
31,513,000. See HISTORICAL STATISTICS OF THE UNITED STATES: COLONIAL TIMES TO 1970, at
8. The population of males 15 and over in 1860 was approximately 9.5 million, 8.5 million of
whom were white. See id. at 16-17. Thus, notes McPherson, the war "killed one-quarter of the
1999]
Levinson
2223
opposed American independence, so that there is currently no political
movement calling for corrective justice against them." This may help to
explain, regardless of whether it justifies, Ackerman's somewhat detached
posture in regard to the events he describes.
This kind of detached sensibility that can be adopted when writing
about transitions long ago is hardly so available when confronting
contemporary transitions. Instead, whether one considers Eastern Europe,
the primary topic of Ackerman's The Future of Liberal Revolution, or
South Africa, one must wrestle with the human desire to settle scores.
Ackerman's rather Olympian advice may reveal quite dramatically how
little Americans are equipped to understand the emotional meaning of
transitions.
In any event, I want to elaborate my sense of the Ackermanian paradox
by exploring two aspects of Ackerman's understanding of America's own
transitions. The first involves Ackerman's emphasis on the constitutional
orderliness of transitions. The second concerns the frequency with which
transitions present themselves, with all of the problems attendant to
explicitly transitional-as distinguished, presumably, from ostensibly
"normal"-politics. Both go to the more empirical aspects of Ackerman's
project, though they have obvious implications for Ackerman's normative
arguments-both with regard to the United States and abroad.
First, how orderly have American transitions been? Ackerman presents
the United States as a special kind of transitional polity: Even when
engaged in transformative constitutional development, the United States
nonetheless adheres to deep constitutional norms, even though they are not
the norms taught by the absurdly naive professional narrative that
desperately attempts to shoehorn into Article V the actual amendatory
transitions that have characterized American constitutional development.
The point of Ackerman's overall project, We the People, is to grasp these
norms. Why is this so important? After all, only professional lawyers
believe in the professional narrative; no political scientist has taken it
seriously for years. The political scientist, though, is likely to be a cynic or,
more charitably, an agnostic, without any genuine faith in the presence of
any overarching legal norms that dictate the outcomes of political battles.
No one could possibly confuse Ackerman with the cynic. He is as
Confederacy's white men of military age." McPherson, supra, at 185. Though the percentage was
necessarily less for the much more populous Union states, there can be no doubt that "[t]he Civil
War was the great trauma and tragedy of American history." Id. Ackerman is undoubtedly aware
of all of these facts, but it is precisely the "trauma" and "tragedy" that tend to be absent in his
account.
35. It is worth noting, though, that analogous passions can certainly be seen in regard to the
memorialization of these long-dead Confederates. See generally SANFORD LEVINSON, WRITTEN
IN STONE: PUBLIC MONUMENTS IN CHANGING SOCIETIES (1998) (detailing contemporary
controversies involving monuments to Confederate leaders).
2224
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
committed a legalist as, say, Henry Hart, and he is as committed as Hart
ever was to discovering the immanent legal process that does indeed give
legitimacy to even our most fundamental transformations.
Ackerman has two principal enemies. The obvious one is the proponent
of the professional narrative. The other, however, is the person who gladly
accepts his general critique of the professional narrative but goes on to
argue that we should understand the U.S. Constitution as effectively
containing-as the Indian Constitution does or, far more ominously, the
Weimar Constitution did 3 6 -" suspension clauses" establishing that, in time
of war or other similar emergencies (including, perhaps, great economic
depressions), the law and the Constitution are silent. The replacement for
the naive understanding of law captured in the professional narrative is
therefore the conception of law as raw political power (and the will to use
it).37 Although, at the end of the day, Ackerman may be closer to such
36. See V.N. SHuKLA, THE CONSTrrUTION OF INDIA 564-73 (reviewing §§ 352-60 of the
Indian Constitution); CONSTITUTIONS THAT MADE HISTORY 367 (reprinting the text of Article 48
of the German Constitution of 1919) (Albert P. Blaustein & lay A. Sigler eds., 1988).
37. Perhaps the most relevant citation, in terms of intellectual stature, is the German (and
Nazi) legal theorist Carl Schmitt. See, e.g., JOSEPH W. BENDERSKY, CARL SCHMITT, THEORIST
FOR THE REICH (1983); PETER C. CALDWELL, POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY AND THE CRISIS OF
GERMAN CONSTITUTIONAL LAW: THE THEORY & PRACTICE OF WEIMAR CONSTITUTIONALISM
(1997); DAvID DYZENHAUS, LEGALITY AND LEGITIMACY: CARL SCHMITT, HANS KELSEN AND
HERMANN HELLER INWEIMAR (1997); Ellen Kennedy, The Politics of Law in Weimar Germany,
77 ThX. L. REV. 1079 (1999) (reviewing CALDWELL, supra & DYZENHAUS, supra); Neil
MacCormick, Jurisprudence,Democracy, and the Death of the Weimar Republic, 77 TEX. L.
REV. 1095 (1999) (same); G.L. Ulmen, "Integrative Jurisprudence" and Other Misdemeanors,
77 T)EX. L. REV. 1107 (1999) (same); see also Izhak Englard, Nazi Criticism Against the
Normativist Theory of Hans Kelsen: Its IntellectualBias and Post-Modern Tendencies, 32 ISRAEL
L. REV. 183, 194 (setting out Carl Schmitt's theory of "decisionism"). My colleague Hans Baade
has stated in conversation that he views Ackerman as altogether Schmittian insofar as Ackerman
ultimately assigns to existential decisions emanating from "We the People" a higher rank than the
specific provisions of the Constitution as written. See, e.g., 1 ACKERMAN, supra note 4, at 15 ("In
America,... it is the People who are the source of rights"). Ackerman would, for example, have
no hesitation in accepting as constitutionally legitimate, albeit normatively dreadful, a repeal of
the present First Amendment and its replacement by a new amendment stating that "Christianity
is established as the state religion of the American people, and the public worship of other gods is
hereby forbidden." Id. at 14. Another colleague, Willy Forbath, has told me that a German friend
has indicated that the German translation of We the People is creating quite a stir, precisely
because of its perceived Schmittian affinities. The heart of the controversy involves the meaning
of popular sovereignty. If, after all, "the voice of the people is the voice of God," ALCUS,
EPISTLES (c. 800), quoted in H.L. MENCKEN, A NEW DICTIONARY OF QUOTATIONS ON
HISTORICAL PRINCIPLES FROM ANCIENT AND MODERN SOURCES 901 (1966), at least in the sense
that the same obeisance must be paid to the "voice of the people" just because it is the popular
voice-I take it this is the defining characteristic of all theories of popular sovereignty-then this
necessarily constitutes a kind of normless "decisionism" associated with Schmitt and, perhaps, all
forms of sovereignty-oriented positivism. One notes that the very sovereignty of God generated
the basic conundrum of whether God can be bound by norms ofjustice. See, e.g., Fletcher v. Peck,
10 U.S. (6 Cranch) 87, 143 (1810) (Johnson, J., concurring) ("I do not hesitate to declare, that a
state does not possess the power of revoking its own grants. But I do it, on a general principle, on
the reason and nature of things; a principle which will impose laws even on the Deity .... "). This
suggests that God lives within a "foundationalist" (and thus limiting) universe, a theologically
1999]
Levinson
2225
understandings than he might like to admit, he clearly wishes to emphasize
the presence of legal structures, whether or not "foundational," that make
the American constitutional saga something other than the tale of how
power has in fact been exercised.
Ackerman thus takes pains to renounce what he, following Richard
Henry Dana, labels the "grasp of war" argument," which Ackerman views
as decidedly "less attractive" than his own, far more complicated argument
that allows us to view the Fourteenth Amendment (and other non-Article V
transformations) as the product of "the constitutional will of the American
people" rather than of "the guns of the Union Army" 39-- or the sheer
political power of the dominant party of the moment. "[T]he entire point of
this book," Ackerman informs the reader, "is to reject this dichotomy
between legalistic perfection," defined as scrupulous adherence to Article
V, "and lawless force."'
As already suggested, I find Ackerman
overwhelmingly convincing in his critique of "legalistic perfection[ism],"
just as I find him convincing in his argument that the alternative to such
perfection is not the starkly Hobbesian image of "lawless force." But it is
Ackerman's very subtlety in regard to American history that makes his
blunderbuss approach to the issue of corrective justice appear far less
sophisticated and nuanced.
If Ackerman is making an argument of sheer principle-that is, because
all such attempts at corrective justice are likely to have certain legal flaws,
they should therefore all be rejected-his position would be as utopian as
the view held by many of the people he is criticizing, which is that we are
required to "play by the rules" of the fatally cumbersome procedures of
Article V even if this dooms us to a decidedly "suboptimal" set of
outcomes.41 After all, Ackerman's fame comes from arguing first, as a
descriptive matter, that we have not always played by the Article V rules
when the costs have been deemed too high, and, secondly, as a normative
matter, that these deviations from the rules were defensible in the past and
should be inspiring to us in the present. So Ackerman must be arguing
controversial assertion. In any event, Ackerman clearly rejects foundationalism insofar as the
sovereign People are concerned. See 1 ACKERMAN, supra note 4, at 15.
38. 1 ACKERMAN, supra note 4, at 115. "We have a right to hold the rebels in the grasp of
war until we have obtained whatever the public safety and the public require." l at 446 n.5
(quoting RICHARD HENRY DANA JR., The "Grasp of War" Speech, reprinted in SPEECHES IN
STIRRING TIMS 234,247 (Richard H. Dana IIed., 1910)).
39. 1 ACKERMAN, supra note 4, at 115.
40. 1 id. at 116. Professor Powe, who is generally sympathetic to Ackerman's specific
narrative of Reconstruction events, nonetheless finds a War Powers justification far more
persuasive than Ackerman's. See Powe, supra note 7, at 562-64.
41. FREDERICK SCHAUER, PLAYING BY THE RULES: A PHILOSOPHICAL EXAMINATION OF
RULE-BASED DECISION-MAKING IN LAW AND LIFE 100-02 (1991) (arguing that "playing by the
rules" entails that one accept the cost of "suboptimal outcomes" that could, perhaps, be avoided
by ignoring the rules in favor of seeking the best result in any given case).
2226
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108:2215
something like the following: The actual costs for Americans of the
transformative deviations from standard legal norms have been acceptably
small, at least on Ackermanian criteria; the costs for Eastern Europeans and
others of such deviations, however, would be unacceptably high.
Perhaps Ackerman is correct, but one would like more details of the
calculus he is using. It is possible, for example, that he underestimates some
of the costs to the United States of unconventional transformation, just as I
am confident that he may overestimate the costs to norms of due process of
institutions like the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
There is indeed a critique of the Commission's work based on its
deviation from perhaps idealized norms of due process,42 though I do not
find it at all convincing. But the question in which I am primarily interested
here is whether our own transitions have necessarily provided greater
models of fidelity to due process. There are only two analytic tasks before
us as we try to answer such a question: defining "transition" and defining
what counts as "due process" or as "arbitrariness."
Let me begin with the first task. When Ackerman first arrived on the
scene as a student of American constitutional transitions, he seemed to limit
the set of transitions to three: the Founding, Reconstruction, and the New
Deal.4 3 Although he presented a complex schema of "Constitutional
Impasse, Electoral 'Mandate,' [a] Challenge to Dissenting Institutions,"
and, finally, a "'Switch in Time"' by the dissenting institution. the
schema was scarcely specific enough to provide clear and unequivocal
guidance as to the existence (or, just as importantly, the non-existence) of
the "constitutional moments" that were the centerpiece of his analytical
structure.45 Some early commentators on Ackerman's work built their own
critiques around this failing. Michael McConnell, for example, argued that
one could view the politics surrounding the Compromise of 1877 as a
"constitutional moment" that legitimated the unraveling of whatever
42. See Truth & Reconciliation Comm'n v. Du Preez & Another, 1996 (3) SALR 997, 100910 (Cape Provincial Div.) (rejecting the claim of a party accused of human rights violations that
the party had a right to be notified of the general elements of the accusation for which the party
was called to answer), overruled by 1997 (3) SALR 204 (A). The two cases come to conflicting
conclusions concerning the meaning of "fairness" in regard to persons identified by ostensible
victims as the perpetrators of the injustices against them. In particular, the Appellate Division held
that alleged perpetrators are entitled to prior notice "of the substance of the allegations against
him or her, with sufficient detail to know what the case is all about," Du Preez, 1997 (3) SALR at
234, though the court acknowledged the ability of the Commission, when necessary, to withhold
disclosing the identity of particular witnesses. See id. at 235, 236.
43. See, e.g., Bruce Ackerman, The Storrs Lectures: Discovering the Constitution, 93 YALE
L.J. 1013 (1984); see also 1 ACKERMAN, supra note 4, at 458-80 (1991) (discussing the
Founding, Reconstruction, and the New Deal as key constitutional transitions).
44. Bruce Ackerman, Higher Lawmaking, in RESPONDING TO IMPERFECTION, supra note 4,
at 63, 79.
45. The notion of "constitutional moments" is well-articulated in Michael McConnell, The
Forgotten ConstitutionalMoment, 11 CONsT. COMMENTARY 115, 121-22 (1994).
1999]
Levinson
2227
promise of racial justice was contained in the Fourteenth Amendment and,
further, legitimated the Supreme Court's opinion in Plessy v. Ferguson and
its general acquiescence to Jim Crow.4 McConnell offered such arguments
more as a reductio ad absurdum, given his general lack of sympathy with
Ackerman's entire project and his specific lack of sympathy with anyone
who would view Plessy as "good law" even in 1896. Other, more
sympathetic critics suggested that the transformations effected by the Civil
Rights Movement in the 1950s and 1960s also should have counted as a
constitutional moment. As the result of a splendid conference at Yale in
April 1998 on the constitutional status of Puerto Rico, I am convinced that
the transition of the United States to a full-fledged colonialist power as a
result of the Spanish-American War and the capture of Puerto Rico and the
Philippines was a genuine constitutional moment, reflected most noticeably,
for constitutional lawyers, in the so-called Insular Cases.47
Ackerman has in effect accepted this basic criticism, for his entire
oeuvre now recognizes as transformative moments the election of 1800the subject of a book he is now writing-and the demise, following World
War II, of the Treaty Clause as a procedural limit on foreign agreements.4"
Although one might still believe he has been less than forthcoming in
providing what social scientists might call an operational test of
constitutional moments-a problem that has particular significance today,
as I shall argue presently-it is clear that Ackerman no longer limits the set
to three. To be sure, these other moments may not have established new
"regimes,"' 49 but they involve fundamental changes in the American polity
46. See id. at 122-40 (1994). Ackerman replies to McConnell in 2 ACKERMAN, supra note 7,
at 471-74 n.126. Professor Powe offers another example of a most unfortunate constitutional
moment that occurred in the 1950s: McCarthyism. See Powe, supranote 7, at 566 n.29.
47. See, e.g., Downes v. Bidwell, 182 U.S. 244 (1901); see also OWEN M. Fiss, 8 THE
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES DEVISE HISTORY OF THE SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES:
TROUBLED BEGINNINGS OF THE MODERN STATE, 1888-1910, at 225-56 (1993); "FOREIGN IN A
DOMESTIC SENSE": PUERTO Rico, AMERICAN EXPANSIONISM, AND THE CONSTITUTION
(Christine Duffy Burnett & Burke Marshall eds., forthcoming 2000).
48. See generally Bruce Ackerman & David Golove, Is NAFTA Constitutional?, 108 HARV.
L. REV. 799 (1995) (discussing the history of the Treaty Clause and its implications for the
constitutionality of NAFTA).
49. On Ackerman's identification of the distinctive "constitutional regime" as "the basic
unit of analysis," see 1 ACKERMAN, supra note 4, at 59. Thus, Ackerman titles a chapter of his
volume, One Constitution, Three Regimes. Id. at 58. Ackerman also refers to these separate
"regimes" as "republics." Id. at 62-63 (discussing the "early," "middle," and "modem
republics"). I owe this point to Jim Fleming, who, commenting on an earlier draft, argued that
Ackerman's emphasis on distinctive "regimes" means that he has not in fact adopted the view
that I ascribe to him in the text as to the presence of additional constitutional moments beyond the
three that form the topic of Transformations. Perhaps the answer is to distinguish between
"strong" and "weaker" constitutional moments that differ in the degree to which they transform
the regime and nonetheless recognize that all of them involve significant constitutional changes
that cannot be explained by the standard-model of Article V (or, of course, by the Supreme
Court's simply discovering what was, though unrecognized, already in the Constitution to be
discovered by the skilled interpreter).
2228
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
nonetheless that, importantly for Ackerman's overall analysis, hardly
comport with the Article V verities.
For better or worse, I certainly will make no attempt to provide a
satisfying test in my comments; indeed, it would probably be a fool's
errand to pretend that one could trap all such moments within a single
matrix of variables. It seems to me, however, that one way of recognizing
the presence of a constitutional moment is the pushing of existing doctrine
to unexpected places because of the political exigencies of the moment. The
greater the "push," the more likely it is that the system is in transition from
one relatively steady state, A, to another equilibrium, B. Surely a great deal
of such "pushing" characterized the years of the Civil Rights Movement
and helps to support the notion that it should be granted the status of an
Ackermanian "constitutional moment."
Given my qualms regarding Ackerman's opposition to transitional
regimes engaging in corrective justice, I want to consider one particular
"push" that occurred in the aftermath of the passage by Congress in 1957
of the century's first civil rights bill. It represented the entry onto the
congressional agenda-following courageous presidential action by Harry
Truman in desegregating the armed forces and, of course, the Court's 1954
decision in Brown v. Board of Education-ofwhat Gunnar Myrdal labeled
the "American Dilemma,"50 the patent conflict between American
aspirations of equality and freedom on the one hand and the treatment of
American blacks on the other. In addition to the domestic problems posed
by continuing disregard for the plight of African Americans, one should
also recognize the importance of the criticism the United States took in the
Cold War debates with the Soviet Union about the treatment of American
blacks. Indeed, the United States, in its amicus brief to the Supreme Court
in Brown, referred to "the problem of racial discrimination.., in the
context of the present world struggle between freedom and tyranny" and
noted segregation's "adverse effect" on America's winning that struggle.5 '
The War on Communism was surely as significant as the earlier wars in
transforming what was thought constitutionally possible. Things simply had
to be done, whether jailing communist leaders or confronting, however
weakly, America's racial problem.
The 1957 legislation obviously pales in comparison to the far more
significant statutes passed in the 1960s, when the Civil Rights Movement
was at its height. Still, it was important in its own right. One of its more
striking features was the creation of a United States Commission on Civil
50. GUNNAR MYRDAL, AN AMERICAN DILEMMA (1944).
51. Amicus Brief for the United States at 6, Brown v. Board of Educ., 347 U.S. 483 (1954)
[(docket No. ?)], reprinted in 49 LANDMARK BRIEFs AND ARGUMENTS OF THE SUPREME COURT
OF THE UNrrED STATES 113, 121 (Philip B. Kurland & Gerhard Casper eds., 1975).
1999]
Levinson
2229
Rights that would be charged with investigating the situation and preparing
a series of reports to Congress, which would presumably act on its
recommendations. 2 America's own version of a truth commission, it would
attempt to elicit the facts regarding the systematic and widespread
misconduct of public officials, elected and appointed, who refused to
recognize the legal rights possessed by their black fellow citizens. Southern
members of Congress opposed the creation of the Commission and then
took umbrage at the appointment of some of its members, charging them
with being biased against the South (by which they meant Southern whites)
and possessing an undue commitment to civil rights. Although the courts
were not in fact closed to black citizens who might want to protest their
treatment, litigation was scarcely an attractive possibility insofar as it would
almost inevitably be conducted before unsympathetic judges and decided
by all-white juries.53 Indeed, one of the major fights over the 1957 Civil
Rights Act involved the right to a jury trial for those officials accused of
violating the rights in question. Southern legislators fought hard for jury
trials, invoking the traditional rights of free-born Americans. 4 No doubt, of
course, the proponents of jury trials were making certain assumptions about
the racial composition of the juries, as were those who saw the guarantee of
trial by jury as an ill-disguised way to assure that criminals would in fact go
unpunished.
Acting under its mandate to ascertain and then expose the often harsh
truths of American society, the Commission held a variety of hearings
throughout the South, including hearings in Shreveport, Louisiana,
concerning voting discrimination. Although the Fifteenth Amendment in
1870 had purported to deny exclusion from the voting booth on grounds of
race, it represented a hollow aspiration so far as most Southern blacks were
concerned. The Commission heard testimony from a number of blacks
complaining that they had unjustifiably been denied the right to vote. These
witnesses had often named specific Louisiana officials as the individuals
placing hurdles in their way. The Commission subpoenaed a number of
these officials to explain why so few black citizens were actually registered
to vote in Louisiana, but several of these officials objected, arguing that the
52. See generally FOSTER RHEA DuLLES, THE CIL RIGHTS COMMISSIoN: 1957-1965
(1968) (describing the creation, objectives, and activities of the Commission).
53. Nor was the Supreme Court necessarily helpful. See, e.g., Screws v. United States, 325
U.S. 91, 98 (1945) (requiring proof of "knowing" and "willful" deprivation of constitutionally
protected civil rights in order to sustain a conviction of a Southern sheriff who had killed an
African-American prisoner in his custody).
54. They might have been able to argue even more eloquently if they had had the opportunity
to read the work of Akhil Amar concerning the essential role of juries as a procedural safeguard
against what local majorities perceive as governmental overreaching. See AKHIL REED AMAR,
THE BILL OF RIGHTS: CREATION AND RECONSTRUCTION 84-88 (1998).
55. See Hannah v. Larche, 363 U.S. 420,425 (1960) (noting the decision of the Commission
to hold hearings in Shreveport beginning on July 13, 1959).
2230
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
complaints against them had been made in "confidential" testimony before
the Commission. The Commission defended the procedure as absolutely
necessary, given the entirely reasonable fears of retaliation that many
blacks had should their own names become part of the public record.
These Louisiana officials sued, complaining that the Commission's
procedures violated their Fifth Amendment right to due process. To be
subjected to official interrogation by a federal investigatory body-and the
possibility of being publicly identified as malefactors in subsequent reports
of the Commission-without an opportunity to learn the identity of their
accusers and to cross-examine them, they argued, violated basic tenets of
due process, including "their right to be confronted by their accusers, to
know the nature and character of the charges made against them," and to be
effectively represented by counsel who could interrogate their accusers! 6
These were surely not frivolous arguments, as recognized by the fact that
the complainants had won their case at the trial level.57
The case ultimately made its way to the Supreme Court, which, in an
opinion by Chief Justice Warren, reversed the lower court and ruled against
the officials. Beginning his Fifth Amendment analysis by noting that "the
requirements of due process frequently vary with the type of proceeding
involved," 58 Warren went on to opine that the specific procedural rights
sought by the officials, however "desirable in some situations,"5 9 were not
constitutionally mandated in the context of the Civil Rights Commission.6"
" [W]hen governmental action does not partake of an adjudication" or an
otherwise authoritative determination of legal rights and obligations, the
Court held, procedural rights can be relaxed.61 Although the courts below
had implied that additional protections were required "since the
Commission's proceedings might irreparably harm those being investigated
by subjecting them to public opprobrium and scorn, the distinct likelihood
of losing their jobs, and the possibility of criminal prosecutions," Warren
dismissed these as "conjectural." 62 Moreover, even if they occurred, "they
would not be the result of any affirmative determinations made by the
Commission."6 3 No one would be ordered to ostracize or otherwise take
action against those described as having engaged in the suppression of
blacks' civil rights. Any potential negative social or legal consequences
would, the Court concluded, be merely indirect results of otherwise
legitimate governmental activity.
56.
57.
58.
59.
60.
61.
62.
63.
Id. at 428.
See id. at 422.
Id. at440.
Id. at 442.
See id. at 453.
Id. at 442.
Id. at 443.
Id.
1999]
Levinson
2231
Not the least persuasive part of the majority opinion was the thirty-two
page appendix that followed it.6 This appendix listed many different
examples of federal congressional and administrative procedures that
similarly failed to grant the full panoply of rights that a criminal defendant
might have. It showed that there was nothing particularly unusual about the
Civil Rights Commission, save, perhaps, the volatility of the issues that it
was charged with studying. To identify the hearings of the Commission or
of a congressional investigating committee with a judicial trial was to
engage in a category mistake. Of course, one might well see the
development of the congressional investigating committee itself as a form
of constitutional transformation linked first to the Depression-era concerns
about malefactors of great wealth and then, even more importantly, postwar concerns about communist infiltration. Although there had been prior
congressional investigations of note,65 it was the Depression that triggered
such important political phenomena as the LaFollette hearings on labor.66
Equally important, of course, was the creation of many new agencies of
government that demanded ongoing congressional oversight. Finally, 1938
saw the creation of the House Un-American Activities Committee, which
became a permanent committee of the House of Representatives in 1945 (it
would eventually be abolished in 1975).67 Its sole purpose seemed to be the
conduct of invasive investigations, most of them upheld by the federal
judiciary.6"
This background may help explain why the fiercest civil libertarian on
the Court, William 0. Douglas, filed a dissent that was signed by another
great civil libertarian, Hugo Black. Douglas noted that the named
individuals who were the subject of the hearings were liable to de facto
adjudication, even if the Commission could not formally punish. The key
word here may be "formally," since the "court of public opinion" could
certainly work its ways against those criticized by the Civil Rights
64. Id. at 454-85.
65. The earliest example given in the Court's appendix is an 1800 investigation, by the
Senate Committee of Privileges, of charges that William Duane had published articles in his
newspaper that defamed the Senate. See id. at 478. Far more importantly, the Joint Committee on
the Conduct of the Civil War was established in 1861, which, the Court tells us, "frequently
centered on the allegedly derelict conduct of specific individuals." Id. at 481. Other pre-New Deal
investigations include the House Committee to Investigate the Electric Boat Company of New
Jersey (1908), and the House Committee to Investigate Violations of the Antitrust Laws by the
American Sugar Refining Company (1911). See id. at 482.
66. See generally JEROLD S. AUERBACH, LABOR AND LIBERTY: THE LA FOLLETrE
COMWMEE AND THE NEW DEAL (1966) (depicting the social context that gave rise to the La
Follette Committee).
67. See House Un-American Activities Committee, in THE READER'S COMPANION TO
AMERICAN HISTORY 519 (Eric Foner & John A. Garraty eds., 1991).
68. See id.
2232
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
Commission.69 Interestingly enough, Douglas conceded that congressional
committees could operate under rules similar to those of the Commission,
but he distinguished "a Congressional Committee of Senators or
Congressmen" from executive-branch agencies."0 The basis of this
distinction was left unexplained. It may be, as a practical matter, that
Douglas thought that the Court would have more success in affecting the
Civil Rights Commission and other executive-branch agencies than it
would with Congress.
The principal point is that "due process" is indeed a highly flexible
concept, as is "arbitrariness." Definitions are subject to all sorts of
contextual considerations, and any analysis that ignores this flexibility will
be profoundly misleading.7" Moreover, if one approves of Hannah, I think it
is because one approves of the ends to which the Commission was devoted.
If one did not share that political commitment, it would be altogether easy
to endorse the civil libertarian objections filed by Black and Douglas. But I
take it that many of us believe that the encroaching on the due-process
rights of racist Southern sheriffs was a cheap price to pay for the good
provided by the Commission. This particular omelet certainly seems worth
the breaking of the requisite eggs. I presume that Ackerman would agree.
This might suggest, though, that he should be more receptive to paying
similar prices in other transitional regimes in order to bring about a measure
of corrective justice-and thus respond to the deeply felt and altogether
understandable anguish of victims of often monstrous injustice.
Analysis would be far easier if American (or any other) society as a
whole could be unequivocally labeled either "normal" or "transitional,"
with attendant Ackermanian consequences for fidelity to pre-existing legal
norms. Alas, political life is not that simple, and we discover that
significant transitions may be occurring even during apparently "normal"
times, at least if "normality" is measured against the baseline of civil war
or the Great Depression. That is, society is never in complete equilibrium or
undergoing complete transition. It is always more like Neurath's famous
69. Many of the particular individuals bringing suit would probably not be punished by the
"court of public opinion" inasmuch as they were the front soldiers of the attempt to maintain the
traditional racial order. Perhaps this helps to explain why Chief Justice Warren, perhaps especially
sensitive to the Southern "massive resistance" to any attempts to implement Brown v. Board of
Education, 347 U.S. 483 (1954), found the claims of harm merely "conjectural."
70. Hannah v. Larche, 363 U.S. 420,497 (1960).
71. Ackerman acknowledges as a democratic reality that, even in the United States, liberal
norms of due process have not been accorded a status any more transcendent than that of
institutional norms (like the allocation of power between the President and Congress). See 1
ACKIERMAN, supra note 4, at 320-21 (suggesting but questioning the ultimate efficacy of
entrenching fundamental liberties against future transformations through the ratification of a new,
unamendable Bill of Rights). He may, however, carry in his mind some idealized, immutable
notion of due process by which he judges the actuality of any given legal order.
1999]
Levinson
2233
ship, being rebuilt and transformed plank by plank even as most of it goes
on as before.
I have already offered the Civil Rights Movement and the move toward
American imperialism as two such "limited," albeit no less important,
transitions. I want to conclude, however, by addressing a possibly
transitional moment that we are living through at this very instant and
assessing Ackerman's own attempt to analyze the situation.
I refer, of course, to the issues surrounding President Clinton! 2 Should
he be pressured to resign because of his undoubtedly disgraceful conduct in
office? Indeed, does the misconduct rise to the level of "high crimes or
misdemeanors" requisite for impeachment? Learned savants argue about
the intent of the Framers concerning the institutional Presidency and the
standards of impeachment.73 Ackerman himself has contributed such an
analysis in the august pages of the New York Times.74
I find at least two things astonishing. about most of these discussions.
The first is the assumption that we must necessarily comply with the wishes
of the Founding generation in regard to presidential tenure in office and the
standards for impeachment. Why would anyone believe this? To put it
mildly, the Framers were living in a political and intellectual world
radically different from our own. As Ackerman himself demonstrates in his
current work on the election of 1800, the Framers rather fantastically
envisioned a polity free of parties, in which the President would indeed be
the best, i.e., most virtuous, man, chosen by electoral colleges of virtuous
local notables. The President, presumably, was to have no particular policy
72. It is obvious that these issues are no longer as current as they were when I initially wrote
this Article in late 1998. That said, it is still helpful, I believe, to note the particular stance taken
by Ackerman and its possible relevance to his overall theory. I should also note that Ackerman's
most important intervention was his argument, initially presented to the House Judiciary
Committee and then published as a book, BRUCE ACKERMAN, THE CASE AGAINST LAMEDUCK
IMPEACHMENT (1999), that any impeachment resolution voted upon by the lameduck House of
Representatives expired at the end of the legislative session and thus could not be presented to the
Senate without a new vote by the successor House. I think there is substantial merit in
Ackerman's argument and very much wish that it had been taken far more seriously than it was.
Ironically, the very fact that it was basically brushed aside, presented neither by the President's
own lawyers nor by any member of the Senate, could be interpreted as a decision by "We the
People" to adopt and make part of our settled constitutional doctrine an anti-Ackermanian
understanding of the Constitution.
73. See, e.g., Scott Gerber, Would the Framers Impeach President Clinton?, in LAW AND
COURTS: NEWSLETTER OF THE LAW AND COURTS SECTION OF THE AMERICAN POLITICAL
SCIENCE ASSOCIATION 4-6 (Fall 1998). My own view is that the answer to this question ought to
be of no interest to anyone contemplating the merits of impeaching President Clinton. See Sanford
Levinson, Clinton and Impeachment: Some Reflections, in LAW AND COURTS: NEWSLETrER OF
THE LAW AND COURTS SECTION OF THE AMERICAN POLITICAL SCIENCE ASSOCIATION, Fall
1998, at 7.
74. Bruce Ackerman, Editorial, What Ken StarrNeglected To Tell Us, N.Y. TIMES, Sept. 14,
1988, at A33.
2234
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
agenda or, indeed, provide anything much in the way of "leadership." 75
Why we should feel bound by this obsolete vision of American politics is
entirely mysterious. It is like arguing that we should acquiesce in the notion
of a Constitution unamendable except through Article V or a national
government confined to such limited powers as to have made the New Deal
impossible.
As the co-editor of a book on "constitutional stupidities," 76 let me say
that I regard the notion of a fixed-term President who is impervious, as a
practical matter, to removal as a true stupidity. What I find remarkable,
however, is that Ackerman has enlisted himself on just this side, writing in
the New York Times how important it is that President Clinton hang in
there, resisting the calls by his critics to resign and let Vice President Gore
assume the Presidency. Although Ackerman is blessedly free of references
to the Framers, he does seem to count it as a strong argument that
resignation under pressure would take us closer to a parliamentary system.
Indeed, he says overheatedly, "Nothing less than our system of separation
of powers hangs in the balance." 77 To force Clinton from office, at least in
the absence of clear proof of a "high crime" or "misdemeanor," would
create, according to Ackerman, a terrible precedent, encouraging "further
acts of congressional aggrandizement." Then comes a quite remarkable
sentence: "If a man can be driven from office for lying about his sexual
misadventures, why should he not also be driven from office for something
like making a disastrous decision on a fundamental matter of public
policy?" 78 Why not, indeed?
The first thing to say is that a system that replaces a discredited leader
of a political party with another, more creditable, member of the same party
is scarcely what most of us mean by a "parliamentary system." It is not as
though Clinton's enemies are trying to force new elections or to replace the
party in power with its opposition. (I concede that some of them may have
fantasies that the Republican Speaker of the House, currently Dennis
Hastert, will succeed to the Presidency upon the resignation or
impeachment of President Gore, though I think that one answer to that
scenario is Akhil and Vik Amar's brilliant demonstration that the
Presidential Succession Act of 1947 is unconstitutional.79 ) Let me concede,
arguendo, that Clinton's displacement via either forced resignation or
conviction on something less than the standards of "high crimes and
75. See, e.g., JEFFREY TULIS, THE RHETORICAL PRESIDENCY (1987) (providing a critical
history of the development of the modem Presidency).
76. CONSTTUTIONAL STuPiDmimES/CoNSTTUnoNAL TRAGEDIES (William N. Eskridge, Jr.
& Sanford Levinson eds., 1998).
77. Ackerman, supra note 74, at A33.
78. Id.
79. See Akhil Reed Amar & Vikram David Amar, Is the Presidential Succession Law
Constitutional?,48 STAN. L. REv. 113 (1995).
1999]
Levinson
2235
misdemeanors" endorsed by originalist professors would be a constitutional
transformation. So what? Is it not the point of Ackerman's scholarship to
demonstrate that We the People (almost always capitalized in Ackerman's
lexicon) have been ingenious and inventive in overcoming constitutional
barriers to doing what was thought necessary and proper to achieve great
national ends? Modification of our increasingly dysfunctional
presidentialist system would, I believe, serve the public in the same way as
did, say, modification of the pre-World War II treaty system, which
eliminated the constitutionally mandated, but altogether stupid and costly,
veto power enjoyed by one-third-plus-one of an outrageously
malapportioned Senate.
What I am suggesting is that we may be living in a constitutional
moment, a transition to a more sensible system of presidential
accountability that allows us to escape the inefficacious system bequeathed
us by the Framers. Ackerman is playing the role, however, of one of the
Supreme Court's "Old Men," using all of his considerable talents to
suggest an almost self-evident duty to adhere to a system that made little
sense in 1787 and makes even less sense today.
As Jack Balkin has suggested in conversation, this may mean, among
other things, that Ackerman provides no guidance at all as to how one
should think during a constitutional moment, in part perhaps because he has
provided too little guidance, when all is said and done, on the rules of
recognition for such moments.80 More to the point, his theory requires that
there be both attackers and defenders of the status quo; indeed, if anything,
he tends almost to romanticize the defenders, seemingly praising the
egregious President Johnson or the New Deal Court for their adherence to
principle in resisting the constitutional revolutionaries and thus, in an
almost Hegelian way, providing the thesis against which these
revolutionaries could posit their antithesis that would ultimately be
accepted and legitimated by an aroused People who have the nation's
deepest interests at heart. Ultimately, Ackerman's theory is basically
backward looking, truly useful only after Minerva's owl has flown away
and the historian-theorist can indeed say that we have completed a
constitutional moment (and, therefore, that well-trained lawyers must
adhere to the new understanding). That is no small accomplishment, but it
is still altogether different from providing guidance to someone who feels
caught up (or perhaps trapped) in a constitutional moment.
That said, one wonders if such a success conforms with Ackerman's
own ambitions, set out at the very beginning of his new volume, to speak in
80. See Mark Tushnet, Living in a Constitutional Moment?: Lopez and Constitutional
Theory, 46 CASE W. RES. L. Rrv. 845 (1996) (discussing the difficulty of ascertaining a proper
response when one realizes that one is living in a possible constitutional moment).
2236
The Yale Law Journal
[Vol. 108: 2215
a "prophetic voice" to his "fellow Americans" and encourage them to
"retake control of their government." 8' This "prophet" seems far more the
voice of the legalist, at least in regard to our current constitutional moment.
Perhaps like most prophets, he may turn out to be distinctly unhappy with
those, like myself, who seem to have learned the most from his teachings. I
close with this question: Is Ackerman's commitment to the institutional
status quo a failing of Ackerman the empirical analyst or of Ackerman the
constitutional theorist? Or, ultimately, are the dancer and the dance one,
inextricably united and incapable of the analytical separation presumed by
this question?
81. 2 ACKERM;kN, supranote 7, at 3.