It’s nullification or nothing.
- There is no Tea Party
- In reality, there’s no opposition political party of any sort
- Moreover, there’s no real representation either; and
- Indeed, there’s no longer even a functioning Constitution.
Wake up. The fix has long been in. We’ve been had. So let’s get real.
First, the Tea Party’s merely a reactionary round table which the Republican Party detests and in which the Democratic Party delights. The Tea Party isn’t a political party and has zero chance of ever becoming one.
Second, at best, the U.S. is now ruled by an institutionalized party duopoly with which no third party can hope to politically compete. But even the duopoly’s more apparent than real. If the Republican Party didn’t exist, the Democratic Party would have to invent it — and vice versa — merely to maintain the facade of political opposition. In essence, however, there is no political opposition. For all practical political purposes, the U.S. is a one-party state with two caucuses. The two caucuses amount to nothing more than one Federalist Party. This is Alexander Hamilton’s America, not Thomas Jefferson’s. Were it otherwise, the States wouldn’t now serve a Federal master they first constituted to serve themselves.
Third, as for representation, in what practical way can each of 435 U.S. Representatives represent almost 730,000 citizens? At that rate, there would have been about a half dozen Representatives in 1789’s 1st Congress (in which there was no political party). Or there would today be something like 11,000 Representatives in the 113th Congress (in which there is effectively but a single political party). And in what practical way can 100 U.S. Senators collectively represent over 317 million citizens? In reality, these 535 career legislators do no more than represent the ruling-class interest of themselves and their Federalist Party duopoly.
Fourth, as for constitutions, no principal on earth can control an agent able solely to judge its own agency. And no State principal can control any Federal agent able under any constitution solely to construe the constitutionality of its own agency actions. That constitutes no agreement between State principals and a Federal agent for the agent’s governance of certain matters on the principal’s behalf. Instead, it’s merely a license for the Federal agent to unconstitutionally misgovern entirely on its own behalf. By anointing itself sole judge of its constitutional agency, the former Federal servant of its once sovereign State principals has made itself, instead, their master.
Forget, in this regard, the vaunted separation of the Federal powers; it’s a constitutional fig leaf. However separated, the Federal legislative, executive, and judicial branches are but one and the same power; and that power has turned the Constitution on its head — all in utter and transparent violation of the entire historical record of the mutual governance agreement by which the American Republic was in the 18th century solely constituted. What we still call the Constitution has, like matter, changed its state from a solid to a liquid and thence to a mere gas. With additional heat and pressure, it may well soon become a plasma.
The first change, from solid to liquid, occurred within 14 years of the Constitution’s ratification, when John Marshall — over nothing more momentous than Thomas Jefferson withholding William Marbury’s Justice of the Peace Commission — decreed himself and his five Supreme Court co-justices the supreme judge of their own employer’s constitutional authority. Thus, in one fell 1803 swoop, the Federal agent effectively ordained itself absolute judge of its own agency, thereby beginning the long game of relegating its State principals to mere pawns on the constitutional chessboard they alone had created for the convenience of their own sovereignty, freedom, and independence. Thereafter, repudiating the restrictions to which the American Republic’s founding document had bound the Federal agent required only its three branches incrementally concerting to usurp the former powers of its State principals. A little commerce-clause guile here, a little general-welfare clause calculation there, a little necessary-and-proper clause mischief everywhere; and, in 200 years, the thing became but the gas it is today.
Nothing in the Constitution authorizes the Federal agent to freely judge its own agency. Indeed, the mere notion is risible; no competent principal anywhere would ever consider it. It’s tantamount to a trustee self-dealing, an employee dictating his own employment, a litigant judging his own case, and inmates controlling their own asylum. But the thing has been done and cannot now, by recourse to itself, be undone. Undoing it would require representation, political opposition, and a Constitution — none of which any longer functionally exist.
All of which leaves us with only one recourse short, unacceptably, of State militia. And that’s a seminal aspect of the American Republic’s historical polity which Federal usurpation of even the States’ educational power eventually consigned to popular oblivion: in a word, nullification.
Nullification’s merely any State principal now reclaiming and preserving the sovereign powers it didn’t during the 18th century delegate under the Federal agency which all 13 original States had, by individual ratification, separately constituted. Any historically principled reading of the Constitution readily reveals the undelegated powers. The Constitution’s 10th Amendment reserves to each State principal, and to its people, virtually every substantive power not enumerated in Article I, Section 8 of the Constitution. That’s no historical interpretation; it’s the history itself. Any agent’s act violating the authority its principal delegates is — with respect to the principal — null, void, and of no effect. If that’s the ordinary consequence of violating any private agency-principal agreement, why should it not also be the consequence of violating the public agency-principal agreement which constituted the very American Republic itself?
The point is this: if the omnipotent Federal agent be solely able to judge at will its State principals’ delegation, there exists neither restraint of the agent’s power nor recourse for the powerless principals (because, as Lord Action observed, power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely). Since no objective third-party judge exists, each State principal must be at least as able to judge its Federal agent’s actions as the agent is to judge the principal’s delegation. Where they disagree, they must do as all sovereigns have always done: negotiate and either compromise or go their separate ways or, ultimately, have recourse to arms. The latter’s no prescription, but it is an historical reality.
Historically, nullification advocacy permeated the American Republic’s first five decades, involving matters as diverse as the Alien and Sedition Acts, tariff inequities, Jefferson’s shipping embargo, central banks of the United States, the Fugitive Slave Act, and then slavery itself. Some say the Civil War forever resolved the nullification issue. But there neither was nor ever will be a war to end all wars. The wheel — no matter how great its orbit — always returns to its starting point. If representative governance is to long endure anywhere on earth, the local work of its American laboratories must recommence. And there’s ample evidence today it has — with respect to Federal drug laws, gun rights, marriage policies, ID cards, healthcare, surveillance, hemp farming, Common Core, indefinite detention, illegal immigration, environmental overreaching, and more.
There’s a growing awareness wanton Federal tyranny can no longer be resisted at the Federal level, a populist perception conservative resistance now remains possible only at the local level. Scale’s everything, especially in an insurgency; and political insurgency’s all conservatives any longer have left. Only Red State insurgents with the community aid and support of the Red State anti-Federalist fellowship can demobilize the Federalist Party tanks — chiefly by disrupting their supply lines, disarraying their force, and denying them political battle on the grounds of their own choosing.
Forget the Blue States. Let them do as they wish, go where they will, and content themselves as long as they’re able with their Jerry Browns and their Bill de Balsios. There may be 28 Blue States on the Left Coast, around the Liberal Lakes, and in the Northeast Nanny Land, but there are also at least 22 Red States in the great American heartland. And even a bare majority of Red State principals each disavowing their Federal agent’s abuse of its constitutionally delegated authority is enough to reinvigorate the American political laboratory. Any Red State need simply declare any Federal action exceeding the Constitution’s delegation of authority null, void, and without effect in that State; and make the action’s intrastate enforcement illegal. Let the Federal usurper, if it can, police its own purloined authority, enforce its own unconstitutional dictates, supply its own utilities, tote its own collectivist water; and look not to the Red States’ acquiescence in their own demise.
So, Tea Party patriots, take heart. Think Virginia Resolution. Think Kentucky Resolution. And nullify. Nullify. Nullify. The day the oppressed sense their oppressor’s vulnerability is the day the tyrant begins to die.
Otherwise, we’ll soon all be alien, and everything will be sedition.
That’s just centralization’s absolutist nature.