Anti-Federalist No. 85 (A Plebian), Part III: Fact, contd.

Smith overstated America’s prospects once more in the fifth paragraph of Anti-Federalist No. 85, in this case when he argued that the debts facing the various states were not as burdensome as some had claimed. Indeed, what seemed to concern Smith more were the debts held by individuals. Personal debts that were contracted before the Revolutionary War, he argued, were left unpaid during the commencement of hostilities and were increased after the arrival of peace by the sudden re-appearance of costly foreign luxuries on the American market. These, he claimed, were, “the true sources to which we are to trace all the private difficulties of individuals.” To this initial proposal he added that the colonies that became the United States suffered through similar hardships during the years of the French and Indian War (1754-1763) as they had during the more recent conflict with Britain. In spite of the scarcity of hard currency, abundance of debt and decline in agriculture, however, the colonies were able to recover in relatively short order without the need for the formation of any kind of federal administration. In short, Smith argued that the cause of America’s debts were obvious, the remedy clear, and the severity of the situation greatly exaggerated.

In this instance Smith was guilty of omission as well as misrepresentation. In fairness, he was correct to point out that the existing debts held by certain citizens of the colonies were left unpaid during the Revolutionary War, and that the influx of British goods into the United States after the conclusion of hostilities likely contributed to many people’s debts increasing. He failed entirely, however, to account for the financial obligations accrued by the various states on behalf of the war effort, and by the Continental Congress on behalf of the states. By 1790, when the United States’ national debt was being calculated, the federal government owed something on the order of $52 million to both foreign and domestic lenders. The states owed a comparatively minor $20 million, with a great deal of variation between them. States in the North, by and large, had failed to pay off most of their existing debt in the years following the Revolutionary War, while states like Virginia had managed to reduce almost half of their financial obligations by the late 1780s. Smith’s home state of New York was somewhere in between. Though it owed nowhere near as much as Massachusetts ($4 million) and close to half as much as Pennsylvania ($2 million), its $1, 200,000 debt was hardly to be glossed over. However well-off New York was compared to some of its sister-states, at some point it would have needed to pay what it owed. And as the situation in Massachusetts had shown in 1786, attempts to raise taxes in order to pay off state debts and commencing foreclosures on individuals who could not afford to pay off their own obligations had the potential to lead to armed resistance.

Where Smith also fell short in his argument about debt was in his assessment of the situation in America after the French and Indian War. As he portrayed it in No. 85, the war was fought by the colonies themselves, debts were accrued or left unpaid in a similar fashion to the later War of Independence, and in spite of the economic downturn that followed the declaration of peace in 1763 the American colonists were able to recover thanks to little more than, “time and industry.” What Smith neglected to mention, of which he surely must have been aware, was that the French and Indian War was chiefly funded not by the colonial governments but by their imperial masters in Britain. The colonies certainly contributed their share of manpower and resources, and it was in their territory that many battles took place, but the majority of the financial burden of the conflict fell to the British taxpayers, effectively doubling the national debt. Indeed it was Britain’s attempt to remedy this situation in the 1760s by levying taxes on the colonies that set in motion the events that led to the formation of the United States. The crucial fact that Smith glossed over, therefore, was that the ease of the American colonies’ recovery after the French and Indian War was greatly facilitated by the fact that the conflict was waged at little financial cost to them. His analogy between the French and Indian War and the Revolutionary War was thus a false one. And unless Smith wished to see the government of his beloved New York overthrown by angry debtors a solution of some kind or another was demanded.

  That last clear instance of factual error that can be pointed to in Anti-Federalist No. 85 comes in the form of a list, at the end of the eighth paragraph, of some of the aspects of the Constitution that Smith and his compatriots found particularly objectionable. Though some of these complaints, it must be said, represent opinions which are neither right nor wrong, or creative interpretations of verifiable facts, others are demonstrably false. For instance, Smith argued that the proposed constitution was potentially dangerous because it gave to Congress, “an unlimited power of taxation both with respect to direct and indirect taxes, a right to lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts and excises of every kind and description, and to any amount.” Considering the fact that disputes over taxation were one of the events that sparked the American Revolution in the 1770s, this would no doubt have seemed an alarming claim that touched on a sensitive issue. It was also, however, factually incorrect. Among the explicit mentions the United States Constitution makes of taxes or taxation, several impose distinct limits on the nature and exercise of the government’s taxing power. Article I, Section 2 states that taxes, along with Congressional representatives, shall be apportioned among the states, “according to their respective numbers.” Far from unlimited, taxes can thus only be levied according to population. Article I, Section 8 states that, though Congress does possess the authority to, “lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises,” these fees shall be, “uniform throughout the United States.” This would seem to ensure that no one state could be made to feel the burden of taxation to a greater degree than any of its counterparts. Article I, Section 9, in addition to reiterating the earlier prohibition on any taxes being levied without accounting for population, also states that, “No Tax or Duty shall be laid on Articles exported from any State.” These declared limits may not have given much comfort to Smith, who was likely uncomfortable altogether with the idea of an entity other than the government of New York being able to tax that state’s citizens. Regardless, they are absolutely limits on federal power.

Within this same list Smith also stated that the, “liberty granted by the system to establish and maintain a standing army without limitation or restriction,” was also viewed by critics of the proposed constitution as worthy of reconsideration. Once again, this is a perfectly understandable complaint. Classical republicanism was a philosophy very much in vogue among the learned classes in the early years of the United States, as was its traditional antipathy towards standing armies. Coupled with some of the events of the 1770s, during which large numbers of British troops were stationed and quartered among the population of Boston without the consent of the colonial assembly, the Anti-Federalists’ fear of inaugurating a government with significant military authority was well-founded. That being said the Constitution of the United States makes scant mention of any such authority, and where it does imposes clear limits on its exercise. Article I, Section 8 states that Congress possesses the authority to raise and support armies, but that, “no Appropriation of Money to that Use shall be for a longer Term than two Years.” There would seem to be little ambiguity in this statement; the purpose, size, and composition of any army raised under the authority of Congress would need to be reviewed every two years at least if its funding is to be maintained. Article I, Section 8 contains further instructions as to federal authority over state militias, and Article II, Section 2 references the role of President as Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces. Nowhere else in the entire document are standing armies mentioned, either as a tool capable of being wielded by Congress or as something that must be limited and controlled. Smith’s sense of alarm as expressed in Anti-Federalist No. 85, while philosophically grounded, would thus seem to have been ultimately unnecessary.

 And speaking of necessity, I hear you asking, what is the purpose of exposing the lies of a man who’s been dead for over two hundred years? So Melancton Smith was a bit dodgy with his facts; so what? This, I must admit, is a very good question. You’re to be commended for thinking of it, though you could have been a tad more diplomatic. Taking the falsehoods contained in Anti-Federalist No. 85 that I've pointed out in hand, there would seem to be several conclusions that present themselves.

First, it’s possible that Smith never intended to represent his arguments as anything other than the truth, and that if he did lie it came purely from a place of ignorance. He was, as I’ve pointed out more than once, a man whose life and career was spent very much within the physical and mental confines of the state of New York. Not only was he materially connected to his home state, owning property there and perhaps never having travelled outside its borders, but his energies and loyalties would appear to have been very much devoted to its prosperity, security, and liberty. If he was thus unaware of the larger economic situation unfolding across the United States, in the failed diplomatic initiatives of Congress or the petty squabbles of the New England states, it was because these things did not interest him, or seemed only distantly related to the fortunes of the Empire State. If this seems to us a hopelessly parochial perspective there is ample reason for it. We forget so easily how small the world used to be, and how skewed the perspective of historical actors often was as a result of the information they had access to and the environment in which they lived and worked. There are certainly times, and I suppose I'm speaking as a historian, when a subject of study (a Jefferson, James I or Genghis Khan) will surprise us with how sophisticated their understanding of their world seems to be. Yet, there are also times when we are struck by how little a person from the past seems to know about the world around them, particularly in regard to subjects that we have long since taken for granted as common knowledge. Melancton Smith may not have known what was going on in the other states, how bad the economic situation was or how close the Union was to collapse, because the information needed to form those kinds of conclusions simply wasn't available to him. To be honest it probably wasn't available to most people in the 18^th century, and for that I don’t believed Smith ought to be faulted.

There is, of course, also the possibility that he knew precisely how bad the economic/political/diplomatic situation was in 1780s America and set out to mislead the public regardless. This would seem, on the surface, to fly in the face of what many of us have come to understand as the inherent virtue of the Founding Generation, their appreciation of things like truth and reason, and their oft-repeated assertion that open debate is the only way for right to triumph over wrong. Washington, folk-tales notwithstanding, was above simple falsehoods; as were Jefferson, Adams, Franklin and Madison. These were Great Men doing Great Work; lying is simply not a part of what we understand to be their psychological or moral makeup. Is the conclusion, then, that Melancton Smith was in some fundamental way less than they were? The answer, I believe, is that none of them were as saintly as we sometimes imagine.

Maybe Melancton Smith lied while making his case in Anti-Federalist No. 85, but then Alexander Hamilton was a master manipulator, Thomas Jefferson was a raging hypocrite, and John Adams was petty and vain. They were all of them human beings, as complex and as capable of defying logic as any of us. If Melancton Smith lied about the state of America in the 1780s and the powers granted by the proposed constitution it was not without reason; the authority and autonomy of his state, his home, his livelihood, was potentially being threatened. Whatever the advocates of the Constitution promised, whatever the benefits of the new government might have been, there was no way to know in 1788 what would come to pass if the ratification process was successful. In the meantime the various states were being asked to voluntarily surrender a significant portion of the sovereignty they had so recently fought to protect. Faced with this stark reality it’s perhaps not so difficult to understand why someone like Melancton Smith would have preferred the devil he knew to the one he didn't. This isn't to excuse the fact that he lied, just as it isn’t meant as a condemnation. It isn't important that Smith be judged for his falsehoods, whatever they may be, but it is very important that they and the logic behind them be understood.

The truth, if the word hasn't lost all meaning at this point, probably lies somewhere between these two extremes. There were, I'm certain, many things about the state of the American economy in the 1780s, the availability of credit, the pressures faced by American merchants abroad, and the magnitude of the total debt held by the United States that Melancton Smith simply wasn't aware of. And I don’t doubt that this was at least in part due to his lack of exposure to the national political/diplomatic stage. At the same time, there were assuredly many other assertions he was abundantly aware of but chose not to acknowledge. This might have been out of a desire to mislead, or because he simply didn't trust their source. The advocates of the Constitution were the ones painting the bleak economic picture; surely it was because they stood to gain? Perhaps the Constitution claimed to set limits on taxation and the use of standing armies, but how could a plan that required the states to divest themselves of some of their independence possibly have been crafted with their best interests in mind? In short, Smith might truly have believed that he was not lying so much as countering what he perceived as the lies inherent in the Federalist position. This is, I’ll be the first to admit, a rather muddy conclusion, but such is the nature of studying the past with anything like nuance in mind.

You’ll forgive me if this next part gets a bit philosophical.  

You see, in many ways the past is kind of unknowable. There are facts, as we understand them, there are perspectives, which we try to account for, and there are theories, which we attempt to hone to as keen an edge as Occam’s proverbial razor. But beyond all of that there is the great and unbridgeable expanse of time that ever lies between now and then. In that expanse so much is lost forever; thoughts, feelings, motivations. And try as we might to reconstruct them out of the fragments or shadows that posterity has left us, there will always, always be something that we miss. But for all that we must try. For in the attempt to understand the past, its assumptions and idiosyncrasies, we gain a deeper understanding of where we came from, how we came to be, and all the things that we take for granted every single day.