The members of the United States Congress are under tremendous pressure as they attempt to fulfill their role as a check and balance to the Executive branch. Clearly, the impeachment process is at the center of the conflict. This is a time at which it is important to stop and take stock of what it means to be a representative. There are two approaches. The first says that, “I am here to reflect the will of the majority of my constituents on any particular issue.” The second says that, “I am here to vote for what is in the best interests of my constituents and the nation.”
In the early days of our republic, the first approach was challenging. There was no convenient way for members of the House and Senate to measure constituent sentiment on each issue as it came before them. Even frequent visits to their constituencies provided only rough estimates of people’s sentiments on particular issues. The only true test came in the next election. If they were wrong on enough issues of importance, they might not be elected. Of course, cynics would point out that it was and is easy to confuse motivations. Is it being re-elected that is most important or literal representation?
Today it is much easier to discern constituent views with a fair degree of accuracy through the device of polling. It is possible for our representatives to obtain a reasonably accurate and timely sense of constituent sentiment. This introduces an element of direct democracy into decision-making that was not present through most of our history.
At the risk of reducing my argument to absurdity, I would suggest that the country could save a great deal of money by governing by electronic plebiscite. If representing the will of the majority is the only goal, we do not need Senators and Representatives. Of course, we would have to prevent evil foreigns powers from “hacking” our computers, but we already have that problem.
One cannot help but come to the cynical conclusion that many of those who claim to follow this first approach are really focused upon re-election. Perhaps this is because they think that they truly are the best people to fulfill the legislative function. Alternatively, they enjoy the position and its “perks” and don’t want to give it up.
The second approach to representation is, perhaps, best reflected by the conservative thinker and member of Parliament, Edmund Burke. When he was criticized by constituents in his district of Bristol, Burke responded as follows:
“I have written this long letter in order to give all possible satisfaction to my constituents with regard to the part I have taken in this affair. It gave me inexpressible concern to find that my conduct had been a cause of uneasiness to any of them. Next to my honor and conscience, I have nothing so near and dear to me as their approbation. However, I had much rather run the risk of displeasing than of injuring them,—if I am driven to make such an option. You obligingly lament that you are not to have me for your advocate; but if I had been capable of acting as an advocate in opposition to a plan so perfectly consonant to my known principles, and to the opinions I had publicly declared on an hundred occasions, I should only disgrace myself, without supporting, with the smallest degree of credit or effect, the cause you wished me to undertake. I should have lost the only thing which can make such abilities as mine of any use to the world now or hereafter: I mean that authority which is derived from an opinion that a member speaks the language of truth and sincerity, and that he is not ready to take up or lay down a great political system for the convenience of the hour, that he is in Parliament to support his opinion of the public good, and does not form his opinion in order to get into Parliament, or to continue in it. It is in a great measure for your sake that I wish to preserve this character. Without it, I am sure, I should be ill able to discharge, by any service, the smallest part of that debt of gratitude and affection which I owe you for the great and honorable trust you have reposed in me.”
Truth be told, Burke was not returned to his seat in the next election, but that is not the point. He chose to act on his view of truth, sincerity, and the defense of “a great political system.” Furthermore, these are not just the ravings of an eighteenth century politician. They have served as a moral guideline to more contemporary legislators as well.
The best example may be found in the person of William Moore McCulloch (R) of Ohio. McCulloch serve in the House of Representatives from 1947 to 1973. He became ranking member of the House Judiciary Committee, and, in that capacity, was one of the first to introduce civil rights legislation in that body. He joined with President John F. Kennedy in pushing the legislation that became the Civil Rights Act of 1964. McCulloch was a conservative. He had few minorities in his district. He played his pivotal role because he thought that it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t a popular role with his constituents, and it certainly wasn’t particularly popular among Republicans. He did it because it was the right thing to do, given his moral precepts.
To make the story of William McCulloch complete one must turn to his district office. On the wall of that office was a framed copy of Burke’s letter.
Of course, there is another way to deal with pressures of legislative decisions. Some Republican members have elected to resign from Congress. Senator Jeff Flake of Arizona was specific in declaring that differences with the President and his Republican supporters in Washington led to his decision. Others have not been so specific. Burke would probably counsel them that principled action in office is to be preferred over resignation.
One must decide, regardless of party affiliation, what principles underlie that affiliation. Furthermore, as Burke so eloquently pointed out, principles must come first. We can be much more tolerant of representatives who identify the principles upon which they base their actions even when we disagree with their votes.