Thursday, March 27, 2014

Washington’s Farewell Address, Part IV: Foreign Relations

*I note up front that this post runs a bit long and covers a lot of ground, and I thank you in advance for your indulgence.

Among the other topics that Washington discusses in his Farewell Address is the issue of foreign relations. This was a subject of particular importance in 1796, as the United States daily ran the risk of being torn apart by the competing sympathies of its citizens and the demands of its allies and trading partners. Ever the pragmatist, Washington advised a neutral course, and in spelling out his position arguably created a framework that, in some form or another, guided American foreign policy for over two centuries.

    But let’s take a step back for a moment.

    Following the Revolutionary War, which ended with the signing of the Treaty of Paris in 1783, Britain and the newly formed United States of American maintained many of the commercial ties that had existed during the colonial era. This relationship ran in both directions, with Britain exchanging manufactured goods for American raw materials, and constituted perhaps the most important form of commercial exchange for either nation. Those Americans that were engaged in shipping, as ship-owners, ship-builders, sailors, merchants, or bankers, were located mainly in the urban north, in cities like Boston and New York, and benefited greatly from the thriving Atlantic trade during the 1780s and 1790s. They were also, perhaps because of their trans-Atlantic business relationships, the Americans most likely to be sympathetic to Britain and its culture. As, over the course of the early 1790s, Britain became increasingly involved in an expansive conflict with Revolutionary France (which had cast off its monarchy in 1793 and declared itself a republic), these same Americans unhesitatingly expressed their support for their former countrymen and expected their government to do the same.

    In the Southern states, however, things were not so clear cut. Though many Southern planters (like Washington, Jefferson and their contemporaries) sold their produce to British buyers, they were suspicious of British motives and of commerce in general. Staunch republicans, they believed that only by owning land could a person be free from the influence of others, and that a successful republic required its citizens to be at liberty to freely express their will, rather than the will of their business partners, creditors, or employers. And as republicans they were thrilled when France, their ally during the Revolution, declared itself a republic. In their eyes the American Revolution had successfully spread, and toppled one of the oldest and most entrenched monarchies in Europe. It was thus incumbent upon the government of the United States to honor its wartime alliance (sealed by treaty in 1778) and give whatever aid was necessary to ensure that its sister-republic thrived.

    Forced to confront the competing sympathies of the American people, Washington at all times urged neutrality and non-intervention. The United States, he believed, was too young and too fragile to risk being dragged into a European conflict in which it had no direct interest. To that end he first issued a proclamation of neutrality in 1793, threatening legal action against any Americans who participated in the European conflict or aided any of the belligerents, and then endorsed and signed the Jay Treaty into law in 1795. This concord between Britain and the United States resolved a number of issues that had remained unsettled following the Treaty of Paris (continued British occupation of certain forts in American territory, a demand for compensation by Britain of property seized during the Revolution, etc…) preserved diplomatic relations between the two nations and ensured the United States’ continued neutrality in Britain’s war with France. Hotly debated in the Senate between those who wished to preserve commercial ties with Britain and those that felt the treaty aligned the United States too closely with British interests, the accord was ultimately ratified and came into force in early 1796.

    Having at last decided to retire from public life, and no longer fearing the recriminations of his fellow Americans for supporting a neutral course, Washington dedicated a sizeable portion of his Farewell Address to an explanation of the dangers of entangling alliances and the benefits of keeping the United States free and independent on the global stage. This explanation, which begins in section 31 and ends in section 49, revolves around the assertions that alliances or rivalries with other nations would inevitably endanger America’s independence and that if America were to ally with another nation it would be a hopelessly lopsided union.

    Considering his role in helping to achieve the independence of the United States, it stands to reason that Washington would value that independence very dearly and would not want to see it hastily cast aside. This he asserts in section 32, claiming that “the Nation, which indulges towards another an habitual hatred, or an habitual fondness, is in some degree a slave. It is a slave to its animosity or to its affection, either of which is sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its interest.” Though Washington believed that the government of the United States was, unlike the monarchies of Europe, dedicated to servicing the public good, it too could be led to abandon its well-reasoned plans and policies if prompted by ill-will, animosity, pride, or ambition. While these sorts of vices were in some sense unavoidable for a nation as young and untested as the United States was in 1796, the first president thought it prudent not to invite them unnecessarily in the form of national alliances and national enmities.

    He reinforced this assertion by also claiming that alliances between nations, when they do exist, must always benefit one party more than the other. Considering that in the 1790s the United States found itself caught between Great Britain on one hand and France on the other (both vast, wealthy, militarily experienced empires), it’s not an unreasonable argument that America could never be an equal partner to either one. “Europe,” Washington writes in section 37, “Has a set of primary interests, which to us have none, or a very remote relation. Hence, she must be engaged in frequent controversies, the causes of which are essentially foreign to our concerns.” This geographic isolation, combined with the fact that the United States was the sole republic in a world of monarchies (with a few odd exceptions), ensured that America’s interests could not help but be separate from the majority of nations that might seek to ally with it. Hence, Washington argues, whatever Britain or France might seek to gain from allying with the United States could not possibly benefit America or its citizens in anything more than a tangential way.

       What all of this means, essentially, is that Washington believed the United States increasingly ran the risk, in the late 1790s, of becoming a pawn in the machinations of its potential allies, and in the process stood to lose the independence it had fought so hard to attain. Though he was willing to admit that trade with other nations was admissible, even desirable, he refused to entertain the idea of extensive foreign commerce unless it was dictated by practicality and reason, and not by a sense of favouritism or hostility. “Even our commercial policy,” he writes in section 42, “Should hold an equal and impartial hand; neither seeking nor granting exclusive favors or preferences.”

Evidently Washington believed that the United States needed to adopt a stoic posture, taking events as they came and evaluating potential relationships by first and foremost weighing its own interests. Perhaps I’m projecting, but I see in these cautions almost exactly the nation that American became. Granted, I don’t know whether I or anyone else could say beyond a shadow of a doubt that Washington’s Farewell Address had a direct influence on subsequent generations of Americans. Nevertheless, I see in the first president’s words the America of the 19th century that traded with other nations, had relationships with other nations, but kept them always at arm’s length. I see the America of the Monroe Doctrine, jealously guarding the Western Hemisphere from European interference; the America that waited until 1917 to enter WWI, and until 1941 to enter WWII, in both cases on its own terms and for its own reasons. And I see the America that between 1778 and 1949 (when it took the lead in forming NATO) had no permanent alliances, military or otherwise, with any other nation.

Perhaps I read too much into Washington’s caution. Judge for yourself his somewhat cynical conclusion:

“It is folly in one nation to look for disinterested favors from another; that it must pay with a portion of its independence for whatever it may accept under that character; that, by such acceptance, it may place itself in the condition of having given equivalents for nominal favors, and yet of being reproached with ingratitude for not giving more. There can be no greater error that to expect or calculate upon real favors from nation to nation. It is an illusion, which experience must cure, which a just pride ought to discard.”

       If later generations didn’t take Washington’s address to heart and plan their foreign relations strategy accordingly, than the first president’s foresight was downright uncanny.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Washington’s Farewell Address, Part III: Debt and Taxes

I recall that I may have hinted in a previous post that it’s something of a pet peeve of mine when politicians and pundits in the United States invoke the Founding Fathers when arguing for or against whatever the issue of the day happens to be. They claim to know, often with startling specificity, what the Founders intended or would have said about this or that subject. While I think it’s creditable that a people should seem to be so in touch with their own history, I am often baffled by the arguments the Founders are regularly drafted into, and am driven to wonder how many of these politicians and pundits have actually sat down and read what Jefferson, Washington, or Hamilton actually wrote.

I say this because, in addition to being a sort of primer on classical republicanism, Washington’s Farewell Address contains a number of cautions which the first president saw fit to impart as he left office. While these warnings all have their roots in contemporary, 18th-century issues, their relevance in the present context is, at a glance, startlingly apparent. Consequently, if someone wanted to know what the first man to hold the office of president, hero of the Revolution, and Founding Father par excellence George Washington had to say on the subject of the national debt, taxation, foreign relations, free trade and partisan politics, they need look no further than his valedictory address for eloquent statements on each of those topics.

If it pleases the court, I’d like to highlight a few of them now.

I’ll start with the national debt, which has been a topic of heated conversation for several months now, and will likely continue to be for the foreseeable future. Should the debt be totally paid off? Is it an unreasonable burden to pass on? Is it growing out of control? How can it best be managed?  Not being an economist, and having only come to something like a competent understanding of the function of the debt recently, I’ll leave the in-depth discussion to those more qualified. That being said, and for the benefit of those that know even less about sovereign debt than I do (which wouldn't be difficult), allow me to sketch out the basic concepts.

Any government, in its regular operations, must spend money. They spend it on social programs, on national defence, on infrastructure, and on financial aid. There are, essentially, two ways for a government to accumulate this money: taxation, and borrowing. Taxation comes in many forms, like sales taxes, income taxes, tariffs, and capital gains taxes. However, taxation, unless it is to become excessive to the point of ridiculousness, can never hope to account for the billions of dollars that the average government spends every year. Thus, governments must also borrow money, from private citizens, banks, and foreign countries. In so doing they accumulate a debt which fluctuates from year to year as portions of it are paid off and more money is borrowed. As long as a government is able to pay off the interest on it debts from year to year, and avoid defaulting on any payments, actually having a debt is not really an issue. In fact, the debt is really what helps governments borrow the money they need. By showing themselves to be trustworthy borrowers, governments can effectively establish a line of credit that enables them to borrow even larger sums further down the line. That being said, it is inadvisable for any government to allow its debts to grow out of control, especially to the point that they eclipse the total amount of money that a country is able to generate on a yearly basis.

During Washington’s first term in office, the United States of American began the process of generating its first public debt. Mainly, this meant permitting the state governments to transfer the debts that they’d accumulated during the Revolution (some of which were sizeable) to the Federal government. New taxes would be implemented, mainly on items considered luxuries (like whiskey), in order to create a stable line of credit by reliably paying the interest on this consolidated debt. Having proven its reputation as a reliable borrower, the United States could then freely issue bonds to foreigners and American alike, generating significant revenue for the federal government. The brainchild of Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton, this debt assumption scheme met with mixed reactions and became one of the most hotly debated issues in America in the 1790s. Negative responses were particularly common among the Southern states, many of who were on their way to paying off their debts and felt that they were being punished for their diligence. Soldiers who had been paid in state bonds at the end of their service during the Revolution also had cause to complain, as many of them had sold their IOUs at a time when they were at a low value, only to have that value sky-rocket in the lead-up to the federal purchase. Nevertheless, a compromise was reached and the assumption went forward.

By 1796, the debt had become one of the central issues of debate between the emerging political factions in United States. Generally speaking, Northerners, who tended to value commerce over agriculture, saw the debt as a useful way to promote investment and economic stability. Southerners, who tended to own land and made their living either working it or renting it to those who did, saw the debt as a tool of bankers and speculators who wished to manipulate the nation’s finances to their own ends. Washington, though he was a Southerner, was in favour of the debt, or at least saw it as a potentially useful tool. In his Farewell Address he referred to public credit as an important source of security and stability and called on his countrymen to cherish it, with certain qualifications. It should be used, he wrote, sparingly, and occasions for added expense should be avoided by cultivating peace (war being a notoriously costly endeavour). At the same time he cautioned that timely investments aimed at preparing for a potential danger would likely alleviate the much greater cost of repelling said danger once it had arrived (essentially, good preparation is cheaper than good damage control). These admonitions he coupled with the assertion that though it is not always possible, the accumulation of debts is best avoided and that once accumulated great effort should be exerted to discharge them, thereby “not ungenerously throwing upon posterity the burthen, which we ourselves ought to bear.”           
This is, I think, a reasonable position to take; that debt could be a very valuable tool, but only when used skilfully, moderately and prudently. And it was likely the product of Washington’s effort to chart the middle course between the opposing factions, both of whom looked to him for moral leadership and mediation. It is, I think, worth acknowledging that Washington did not claim that it was desirable to pay off the debt entirely. This would, after all, render it useless as a means of generating much-needed revenue, something which the federal government, even in the 1790s, was increasingly in need of. In fact, though the United States actually did pay off its debt completely in 1835, it began borrowing again at the start of 1836 (at which point, in January, the total debt amounted to $37,000).  

In the same section (the 30th), Washington also discusses the necessity of taxation as a means of discharging the nation’s debts. His opening statement on that topic is, to my mind, one of the most even-tempered and pragmatic I've read or heard from an American politician on the subject of taxes.

He wrote:

“Towards the payment of debts there must be Revenue; that to have Revenue there must be taxes; that no taxes can be devised, which are not more or less inconvenient and unpleasant; that the intrinsic embarrassment, inseparable from the selection of the proper objects (which is always a choice of difficulties), ought to be a decisive motive for a candid construction of the conduct of the government in making it, and for a spirit of acquiescence in the measures for obtaining revenue, which the public exigencies may at any time dictate.”

    18th-century linguistic contortions aside, there can be no more plain explanation of the purpose and necessity of taxation in a free society. Taxes are unpleasant but necessary. Because they are unpleasant, the objects which they apply to (investments, property, imports, income, etc…) must be very carefully chosen, and the process of selecting and enforcing them must be as transparent as possible. And at the same time, the public must be willing to accept the implementation of taxes aimed at providing revenues for measure or programs from which they benefit directly. At no point does he say that taxes are what make life worth living, nor does he claim that they spell the end of American civilization. They are, to his thinking, an inconvenience, but one that must be tolerated because they ultimately serve the public good.

    I can’t speak for anyone else, but I think this is a view worth considering. 

Friday, March 7, 2014

Washington’s Farewell Address, Part II: Classical Republicanism

While it now may seem quite conventional that George Washington decided to leave the White House after two terms in office, it’s important to remember that when he assumed the presidency in 1789 there was no convention for him to draw upon. The twenty-second amendment, which set the familiar two-term limit, was not to be ratified until 1951, and as the nation’s first president it was largely up to him to define the scope and set the limitations of the office (as the Framers of the Constitution intended). In all likelihood Washington could have continued to successfully run for president for the rest of his life. In spite of the difficulties of his second term he was still extraordinarily popular, almost to the point of deification. That he chose not to, and voluntarily stepped down from one of the most powerful political offices in the history of the modern world, demonstrates once again the man’s prudence and dedication to republican principles.

And it’s this I want to discuss for the moment: Washington’s republican principles. In particular, I want to look at how his Farwell Address invokes them as a justification for stepping down, and what they say about Washington’s view of public service.

            The Address, which in its unabridged form is divided into 51 paragraphs or sections, begins with a fairly lengthy explanation of its author’s intention to leave the presidency behind. In it, Washington explains that his greatest desire had always been to withdraw to private life and spend the rest of his days as a humble citizen. This desire was scotched by his call to the presidency in 1789, and again in 1792. Though on both occasions he was willing to bow to the public will, by 1796 he had determined that the nation was no longer in need of him, and that in light of his years of service his countrymen would be willing to indulge his wish for a peaceful retirement. In itself, this is not a particularly unusual sentiment; after long years of service, a man desires rest. What is of interest, however, are the terms that Washington uses to describe his time in office. 

            At various points, he refers to the presidency as an “important trust,” an “arduous trust,” and a “uniform sacrifice of inclination to the opinion of duty.” He also states his desire to “return to that retirement from which [he] had been reluctantly drawn,” and expresses with humility his belief that he had “contributed towards the organization and administration of the government the best exertions of which a very fallible judgement was capable.” Rather than view the office of president as a privilege or an opportunity, Washington seemed to look upon it was a trust or a duty, to which one might be called but should not aspire. While toady it might seem strange for an American president to refer to their office as a burden, or confess doubts as to their ability to carry it out, it was perfectly in keeping for an 18th-century gentleman like Washington to do so. This has to do mainly with his status as a proponent of classical republicanism.

            A word about that.

An extremely popular political philosophy during the Enlightenment, classical republicanism drew on the examples of the Greek city-states and the Roman Republic, in which a multitude of political offices were held by members of different social orders. The powers held by these offices checked and balanced each-other, thereby imparting a sense of stability. In its 18th-century form, classical republicanism was predicated on the notion that a) the best form of government was the republic, and b) a lasting republic was one that was built on the ideals of public service, virtue, and mixed government. In such a state it was felt that high positions of power were best held by members of the aristocracy. As men of affluence and education, not only where they best suited to handle affairs of state, but the privileges they enjoyed carried with them a social obligation to sacrifice a portion of their time, effort, and even wealth, in service to the public good. This kind of social responsibility required a gentleman to be honest, forthright, and virtuous, and to resist the numberless opportunities for personal enrichment that high office often presented.

            As a man of wealth and privilege himself, classical republicanism was an important part of the gentlemanly code of conduct to which Washington, and men like him, aspired. In numerous instances over the course of his life, his dedication to duty and rejection of tyranny led him to accept offers of leadership for a time, only to put them aside once he felt his responsibilities had been fulfilled. The presidency was yet another of these offers of leadership, and it should come as no surprise that Washington’s Farewell Address is rife with sober republican advice and numerous examples of his principled view of public service.

For instance:
a)      At the end of section 13, Washington cautions against the growth of a large military establishment in the United States, armies being traditionally viewed as a threat to liberty. This belief has its origins in the ancient republics Greece and Rome, wherein armies were raised only during wartime, and were composed of citizens fighting to protect their homes, rather than professional soldiers fighting for money

b)      In section 19, he gives a general endorsement of balanced government, stating that, “It is, indeed, little else than a name, where the government is too feeble to withstand the enterprises of faction, to confine each member of the society within the limits prescribed by the laws, and to maintain all in the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of person and property.” Again he alludes to the example of the ancient republics, who sought to balance freedom with security, stability and social order

c)      Section 22 contains a warning against the excesses of factionalism, and the inevitable emergence of dictators and tyrants out of the chaos of inter-party conflict. As with Caesar in Rome, Washington fears that the excessive and violent partisan struggles going on in the United States will push people to look for security in the “absolute power of an individual,” at the expense of their liberty

d)     In section 26, Washington argues that a strict separation of powers in a republic is necessary for the protection and promotion of the common good. Power, he claims, is best exercised by, “dividing and distributing it into different depositories, and constituting each the Guardian of the Public Weal against invasions by the others.” This idea, instrumental to the American system of government, is an echo of the Roman Republic, wherein power was divided amongst a large number of offices as a means of preventing authority from being concentrated

These are all, I think, reasonable points to make. And I’m sure that they resonated with many of the people who read them, who saw in the United States a continuation, or even a perfection, of the republics of antiquity. For them, and for Washington, government functioned best when authority was carefully delineated, when different social orders knew their place, when factionalism was kept to a minimum, and when power was exercised mainly by independently wealthy, publicly-minded gentlemen. This ethos had served Washington throughout his professional life, made him one of the most popular men in America, and helped him to weather an at-times stormy presidency. And at its centre was the notion of public service; that high political office was not meant to be an opportunity for already wealthy men to become wealthier, but a chance for them to give back to the society that made their prosperity possible.

It’s worth noting, however, that the America that Washington was addressing in 1796 was rapidly being transformed from an agrarian, agricultural, socially static society into one that was upwardly-mobile, acquisitive, and at times aggressively egalitarian. This new America, the America of the 19th century, placed greater emphasis on wealth as a measure of social standing (money being less a matter of birth and education, and more a consequence of opportunity and hard work), and began to actively condemn gentlemanly pretensions as un-democratic. Though he continued to be venerated long after his retirement and eventual death in 1799, a man with George Washington’s particular convictions would no doubt have found it difficult to achieve the political success he enjoyed in his lifetime amidst this emerging status quo.  

           And I don’t suppose there’s anything the matter with that. The United States of America cannot be, always and forever, what its founders intended. It must, of necessity, shift and change in order to suit the needs of succeeding generations. The country that Washington presided over at the end of the 18th century was, for all its novelty, the product of a well-defined social order, and of the efforts of men with gentlemanly pretensions. That looking back we should find it, and them, rather alien is only natural. Nevertheless I believe there is great value in examining the words and convictions of a man like Washington, whose republican bone fides were rooted in a much earlier era, and asking ourselves whether they continue to have value. While I certainly know my own feelings on the matter, I leave it to you to determine for yourself.