Jay’s attempt in his 1788 Address to cast doubt on any hope of a
successful second constitutional convention was, similar to his critique of the
Articles of Confederation, also quite cogent and insightful. Proponents of this
theoretical sequel to the Philadelphia Convention argued that, the merits of
the proposed constitution having been debated at length in public meetings
across the thirteen states, the American people would be better equipped to
choose delegates in 1788 or 1789 than in 1787, and those delegates better
prepared to discuss the relevant issues. This, Jay allowed, made some degree of
sense. A better-informed convention, doubtless attended by men of at least
equal talent to those who first assembled in Philadelphia, may indeed have
proven itself capable of recommending meaningful modifications to the elements
of the Constitution that had been particularly troubling to its critics. Or at
least it may have done so, Jay cautioned, if the context of the debate hadn’t
already shifted. “You must have observed,” he wrote in paragraph twenty-six,
That the
same temper and equanimity which prevailed among the people on the former
occasion, no longer exists. We have unhappily become divided into parties; and
this important subject has been handled with such indiscreet and offensive
acrimony, and with so many little unhandsome artifices and misrepresentations,
that pernicious heats and animosities have been kindled, and spread their
flames far and wide among us.
However much the people of the
United States had become better educated on the topic of national government
and constitutionalism by the ongoing ratification debate, Jay believed that they
had also become awakened to the latent political divisions that existed among
themselves.
There
was, upon reflection, a great deal of truth to this assertion. The debate over
the proposed constitution had indeed either created fissures in the political
cultures of the various states or enlivened existing partisan divisions. Though
far from the organized, incorporated, centrally-led parties which now dominate
American politics, the factions that spawned out of the ratification debate
proved themselves in short order to be surprisingly effective at mobilizing
their followers and broadcasting their message. “Federalists” and
“Anti-Federalists” from Massachusetts to Georgia often synchronized their
efforts, shared and distributed each-other’s pamphlets, fielded pre-selected
candidates for election to state conventions, and devised coordinated
strategies. Prevailing rivalries between individuals and factions, particularly
in states like Pennsylvania, New York, and Virginia, often became folded into
these newfound divisions, in many cases signalling a new, aggressive chapter in
their ongoing partisan struggle. The bitterness that seemed to pervade the
Pennsylvania state convention, culminating in the defeated minority’s disavowal
of the proceedings, speaks specifically to the sense of discord that discussion
of the proposed constitution had generated. Granted, a number of states had
ratified the document with a minimum of disagreement, and the defeated minority
at the Massachusetts convention demonstrated great magnanimity by agreeing to
support the Constitution regardless of their personal qualms. That being said,
enough dissent had been aroused in enough constituencies for Jay to rightly
doubt in 1788 whether or not a formal attempt to modify the proposed
constitution could hope to meet with anything like the impartiality that the
task arguably demanded.
In this sense, Jay effectively
seemed to be pointing out that the Philadelphia Convention had been convened
and gone to work in a unique and ephemeral moment in history. Because the
delegates thereto had been chosen by their respective state legislatures for a
purpose other than creating an entirely new government for the United States of
America, there was no public expectation surrounding the document they
ultimately crafted. Nation-wide debate over the necessity, dangers, or proper
form of an effective federal administration had not been swirling for months
before they met, and there were no factions then in existence whose partisans
had a vested interest in seeing the thing succeed or fail. Delegates were able
to meet and discuss this or that proposal or framework with frankness and
candor – there was nothing at stake if they failed, and, thanks to the debates
taking place in strict secrecy, no need to pander to popular demands. A second
convention, summoned in the glare of the public opposition to the work of its
predecessor, would almost certainly enjoy no such advantages and suffer under a
host of added difficulties.
Chief among the latter, Jay
asserted, was the inevitable involvement of the emergent Federalist and
Anti-Federalist factions in choosing and promoting delegates for election.
Faced, unlike in 1787, with the full knowledge of what their representatives
were being sent to accomplish, he found it exceedingly unlikely that the states
would select men to represent their interests at a second constitutional
convention who were among the most moderate, rational, or willing to
compromise. Rather, he feared the partisan divisions that had generated such
animosity in states like Pennsylvania would simply be replicated – “The men
most willing and able to carry points, to oppose, and divide, and embarrass
their opponents, will be chosen,” he lamented. Or, worse yet, these tendencies
would become exaggerated by the sense of partisanship that the ratification
debate had brought to the surface. If, as in Pennsylvania or Massachusetts, the
second convention supported a series of modifications to the Constitution by
only a slim majority, Jay dreaded the likely public reaction. The American
people, he argued in paragraph twenty-nine,
Especially
in their present temper, would be more inclined to reject than adopt any system
so made and carried. We should in such case again see the press teeming with publications
for and against it […] Hence new divisions, new parties, and new distractions
would ensue, and no one can foresee or conjecture when or how they would
terminate.
Perhaps a second convention would
have resulted in a mutually satisfactory constitutional settlement, but it
evidently appeared to Jay just as likely to end in the intensification of the
partisan strife it had been summoned to put to rest.
Though Jay seemed loath to
speculate on the potential negative outcomes of a second convention – “no one
can foresee or conjecture when or how they well terminate,” he wrote – it will
here suffice to summarize a few noteworthy points. It first ought to be
recalled that, by the time Jay penned his 1788 Address the Constitution had already been ratified by six states.
If a second convention was called, it would perhaps stand to reason that the
delegates from those states (Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Georgia,
Connecticut, and Massachusetts) would feel compelled to preserve the document
that their countrymen had already pledged to support. This may effectively have
divided the convention into rival camps in favor of and against extensive
modification of the Constitution, the end result of which could well have been
the dissolution of the United States. The same end may have followed if the
second convention ultimately deadlocked over the same disagreements that had
nearly arrested the progress of several state conventions. Faced with the
realization that there could be no better version of a national government for
the United States, critics of the proposed constitution might then have dug
their heels in deeper than before, refused to compromise with their opponents,
and compelled several states to reject the document altogether. With six states
in favor of a new government, several states against, and no hope of achieving
a satisfactory settlement, those in the minority might consequently have found
themselves exiled from the union. If Jay’s assessment of the affection his
countrymen felt for Congress and what it symbolized had any truth to it at all,
this would have been a truly tragic outcome.
Absent a second convention, then,
the question before the people of New York in 1788 remained relatively
straightforward: would they ratify the proposed constitution as it was
delivered to them, or reject it? Having attempted to convince his countrymen
that the national government then in existence was inadequate to their needs,
Jay put forward one final petition in the thirty-third paragraph (out of
thirty-eight) of his 1788 Address
that was particularly well-considered, candid, and pragmatic. The state of New
York, he reminded his audience, had benefited from the inability of Congress
under the Articles of Confederation to enforce the collection of customs duties
on imported goods. Free to ignore the dictates of the feeble national
government, authorities in Albany had instead determined to raise their own
impost upon all merchandise brought into the state through the port of New York
City. Because neighboring states like Connecticut and New Jersey lacked major
port cities of their own, they had in turn been forced to buy the imported
goods supplied by merchants in New York at an inflated price. The government of
New York thereby collected a healthy surplus while its nearest neighbors
suffered.
The prospect of getting out from
under New York customs duties was one of the reasons several states, like the
aforementioned New Jersey and Connecticut, ultimately agreed to ratify the
proposed constitution. The stronger national government promised by that
document would theoretically have been capable of collecting on the import
duties it levied, thus preventing any one state from establishing a regional
monopoly on international trade. With this in mind, Jay asserted that a
rejection of the Constitution by New York stood to impact its economic
prospects whether the document ultimately came into force or not. “Jersey and
Connecticut,” he noted, “to whom your impost laws have been unkind–Jersey and
Connecticut, who have adopted the present plan, and expect much good from it–will
impute its miscarriage and all the consequent evils to you.” If the proposed
constitution failed to achieve the requisite support to become the new law of
the land, the states that voted in its favor would doubtless cast about for
someone, or something, to blame. New York, among the small number of states to
have profited from the weakness of Congress under the Articles, would doubtless
have accordingly become a source of ire and resentment. “They now consider your
opposition as dictated more by your fondness for your impost,” Jay wrote of New
York’s nearest neighbors, “than for those rights to which they have never been
behind you in attachment.” This slight, Jay, cautioned, would not be soon
forgotten.
Their hopes of achieving more
equitable commercial relationships with their fellow states dashed by what they
perceived as narrow greed, New York’s neighbors could conceivably have set out
to punish their former sister-colony. “They cannot,” Jay wrote accordingly,
“they will not love you – they border upon you, and are your neighbors; but you
will soon cease to regard their neighborhood as a blessing.” New York City,
though a tremendously lucrative trade hub, left the larger state vulnerable to
economic disorder by the dependence it produced upon its business in the
government in Albany. Accordingly, in the event of the failure of the
ratification process, attempts made by states like Connecticut or New Jersey to
sabotage or disrupt trade coming into New York City could well prove quite
damaging. If this attempt at economic warfare extended to an outright blockade,
however unlikely they may have been, there would seemingly have been little
Congress could do to resolve matters. This fearful eventuality was made worse
by Jay’s added warning that New York already had an enemy eager to revenge
itself upon the larger state’s stubborn greed. “What advantage Vermont in
combination with others might take of you, may easily be conjectured,” he
wrote, recalling the eagerness with which authorities in that rogue state might
have hoped to seize the opportunity to bring low their old adversary in
conjunction with newfound allies. Again, there was likely very little the
feeble national government under the Articles could have done to protect New
York, or discourage other states from acting in malice against it. Thus, by
hoping to preserve the weakness of the national government under the Articles
in order to secure its own advantage, New York could possibly become the victim
of the same.
It is hard to say how likely these
kinds of scenarios may have actually been in 1788. Doubtless there were
measures that a stymied New Jersey and Connecticut could have taken in order to
injure the trade daily flowing into New York City. Though it perhaps pushes the
bounds of credibility to imagine that they would have gone as far as some form
of military action, certain contemporary observers of the United States under
the Articles did at various points express concern that border disputes and
commercial disagreements between states may eventually have led to outright
warfare. With this in mind, it also bears recalling that Vermont – a disputed
territory claimed by Albany but asserted by its residents to be a sovereign
state – had already existed in an effective state of war with New York since at
least 1775. While the armed confrontations, back-and-forth reprisals, and
house-burnings did eventually give way to cooperation once the Revolutionary
War began, New York’s continued refusal to recognize Vermont’s independence into
the late 1780s doubtless served to reignite the resentment of that state’s
beleaguered population. It is accordingly quite possible, without speculating
as to the exact form or intensity, that the government of Vermont might indeed
have been willing to take renewed action against the Empire State alongside
those of its neighbors who felt ill-used by what they perceived as Albany’s
heedless self-interest.
Speculation aside, Jay was entirely
justified in attempting to point out to his fellow New Yorkers that their
decision to ratify or reject the proposed constitution did not solely affect
them. Because the success or failure of the Constitution depended on how many
states chose to ratify it, a rejection by New York – one of the largest and
most influential states – would likely have wrought significant damage to the
overall project, perhaps even to the point of dooming it altogether. In the
event of the latter outcome, the states that had come out most enthusiastically
in favor of the new federal paradigm would doubtless have looked with
resentment upon New York, its government, and its population. This potential
outcome, offered by Jay in the spirit of caution and reproach, effectively
pointed up a number of practical considerations he seemed to think his readers
ought to have considered. Whether New Yorkers acted out of conviction or self-interest,
and whether they accepted or rejected the proposed constitution, their
neighbors were still going to be their neighbors – Connecticut and New Jersey
weren’t going anywhere, and their citizens would be forced to live with the
consequences of New York’s decision one way or another. It accordingly made
sense for the people of New York to take into consideration the potential
impact their own actions might have on the people they lived alongside, traded
with, and to some degree depended on – not only because these people stood to
harm them if disappointed, but also because maintaining a positive relationship
stood to benefit New York in turn.
In many ways, this
was exactly what the ratification process was designed to do. Created as a
national project – formulated by delegates from twelve of the thirteen distinct
American jurisdictions – the Constitution was not merely intended to benefit
the large states, or the small states, or the northern states, or the southern
states. Rather, it was intended to forge a consensus between the whole thirteen
and draw them closer together in terms of legal, foreign, and domestic policy.
The terms of ratification seemed to anticipate and encourage this outcome by
leaving it to the individual states to approve or reject the proposed
constitution rather than the federal Congress. Though the residents of New
York, or Georgia, or New Hampshire doubtless nurtured different priorities from
one another, and would need to take these priorities into account when
considering the new federal charter, its national character could not help but
draw their minds towards a consideration of the larger union as well. If they
chose to reject it, and the project failed, their choice would doubtless be
remembered by those who voted in the affirmative. Alternately, if the
Constitution was adopted in spite of their rejection, they would be left
outside of the newly-reconstituted United States. Both of these potential
outcomes, as well as the possibility of the proposed constitution being unanimously
adopted, warranted the consideration of every American, Jay’s fellow New
Yorkers included. Their state, he seemed inclined to point out in his 1788 Address, however much its economic
preeminence might have caused them to think otherwise, did not, and could not,
exist in a vacuum. Just as New York affected the states in its “neighborhood”
by the priorities it pursued, so too could the states along its borders
influence New York by the decisions their respective governments determined to
make. The ratification debate exposed this logic in a very palpable way, though
it remained for each of the state ratifying conventions to realize and respond
to it.
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