Presidential Leadership in American History

• Jul 28, 2011
• Michael Streich

Theodore Roosevelt's example of presidential leadership was based on his view of inherent executive prerogative power.

Strong presidential leadership is not necessarily confined to periods of conflict or controversy in American History. Too often, poor leadership at critical moments changed the nation’s course. James Madison was reviled for his lack of leadership in 1812 and the subsequent war with Great Britain. William McKinley had to be politically cajoled into submitting a declaration of war against Spain in 1898. While some national emergencies, like the Civil War and the Great Depression, witnessed strong leadership by “the right men at the right time,” this was not always true, nor is it true in the 21st Century.

Presidential Greatness Defined by Character, Vision, and Strength

America’s great presidents may have suffered personal doubts during times of important decisions, but they never wavered publicly from what they believed to be the only way to solve a crisis. Political parties compromise; presidents lead. One of those was Theodore Roosevelt. Professors Kelly and Harbison state that, “He had a dynamic and powerful personality that captured the popular imagination and inspired large numbers of people to follow him in whatever ideals he proclaimed.”

Roosevelt became president in 1901 upon the assassination of William McKinley. McKinley, as historian Lewis L. Gould notes, was effective because of his own Congressional background and the political tact he employed with powerful senators. But he was not in the mold of Roosevelt, who thought nothing of going to the American people through the press when he ran into an impasse with the Congress, especially after his 1904 reelection.

Historians note that Roosevelt believed in the “stewardship theory.” As such, Roosevelt “revived the old Hamiltonian doctrine of inherent executive prerogative power.” (Kelly & Harbison) As long as the Constitution did not prohibit an action, Roosevelt felt free to pursue it. This included taking on the oligarchs in the House and Senate, captains of industry such as J.P. Morgan, and the San Francisco School Board.

Presidents Must Lead from the Position of Strength and Decision

Roosevelt was a man of action and one who spoke his mind. In 1915, he wrote, “The policy of watchful waiting, a policy popular among government chiefs of a certain type ever since the days of Ethelred the Unready…has failed, as of course it always does…in the presence of serious difficulty…” Although Roosevelt was directing his criticism against Woodrow Wilson, the same can be said of other chief executives in American History.

Were Americans better off in 1980 than they had been in 1976? This question, asked by Ronald Reagan, helped him to defeat Jimmy Carter. Americans were not better off, and neither was the world. Flawed leadership under Carter produced economic recession at home while losing U.S. prestige and respect abroad. President Carter was a great humanitarian and negotiator for peace, but a poor leader in the post-Watergate world of uncertainty and mistrust.

President Reagan, dubbed the “Great Communicator,” went directly to the American people when Congress failed to enact laws his administration wanted. Reagan may have learned leadership as governor of California, but his economic policies exacerbated conditions leading to the long and slow financial decline that impacts the United States in 2011. Reagan’s example demonstrates that leadership is not always defined solely by words and rousing speeches. His own Vice President criticized the financial policies, calling them “voodoo economics.”

Has Leadership Changed in the 21st Century?

Writing about the U.S. Senate in 1900, Gould observes that, “…the upper house had little sympathy for those Americans whom the rise of large corporations had disadvantaged.” Over one hundred years later, critics cite similar observations: Americans mistrust the Congress and note little leadership in the White House.

When George W. Bush achieved reelection in 2004, he boasted that he had earned “political capital.” Yet his legacy was a series of Middle East conflicts and the start of the so-called Great Recession in 2008. None of the warning signals were addressed. Historians of the future may equate Bush with Herbert Hoover rather than Teddy Roosevelt. Bush, like Hoover, ignored the “bubbles” that ultimately unraveled the American economy.

President Obama’s leadership is also questioned by critics. Like Woodrow Wilson, Obama was a product of the lecture hall; both men were products of Ivy League schools and both men were most at home behind a classroom podium. Leadership, however, is not learned in books but is more the product of risk and action. Wilson himself wrote that, “Leadership does not always wear the harness of compromise.” Wilson, however, viewed himself more as a Prime Minister than a President.

Analyzing Theodore Roosevelt’s successful 1904 reelection, Charles A. Gardiner referred to “absolute executive sovereignty” of the presidency. The occasion was the annual meeting of the New York Bar Association. According to Gardiner, the president, under the Constitution, executes the laws passed by Congress with “absolute discretion” as long as he acts faithfully pursuant to his oath of office (New York Times, January 19, 1905). This was Roosevelt’s contribution to the “era of executive expansion.”

Executive leadership doesn’t come with on-the-job training. There are no “entry level positions.” Decisive leadership is tied to character, honor, and the Constitutional oath to serve the American people well and honestly. Those presidents that truly believed this are deemed great. Too many others lost the power of conviction, and the nation suffered.

Sources:

• Lewis L. Gould, The Most Exclusive Club: A History Of The Modern United States Senate (Basic Books, 2005)
• Alfred H. Kelly and Winfred A. Harbison, The American Constitution: Its Origins & Development, Fifth Edition (W. W. Norton & Company, 1976)
• James Ford Rhodes, The McKinley And Roosevelt Administrations 1897-1909 (The Macmillan Company, 1922)
• Theodore Roosevelt, Fear God And Take Your Own Part (George H. Doran Company, 1916)

Copyright Michael Streich. Contact the author to obtain permission for republication.

Protecting the Constitution and Curbing Presidential Powers

Senator Sam Ervin's knowledge and respect of the Constitution made him the logical choice to head the Senate Watergate Committee in May 1973. 

Posted by Michael Streich on Oct 8, 2008

 On July 5, 1973, North Carolina Senator Sam J. Ervin, Jr. wrote a constituent, stating “I will always be grateful to you for your complimentary remarks concerning the manner in which the Senate Select Committee on Presidential Campaign Activities is endeavoring to perform its duty to ascertain the truth in respect to the charges relating to the Watergate affair and its various ramifications.” The Watergate hearings represented the final and certainly the most far-reaching actions of the “country lawyer” from Morganton, North Carolina; when his term ended in January 1975, “Senator Sam” retired.

Sam Ervin Challenges the Nixon White House

Sam Ervin was a conservative Democrat who held a Jeffersonian passion for the U.S. Constitution and is referred to as the, “last of the Founding Fathers.” Aspects of his passion involved opposition to Civil Rights, the Equal Rights Amendment, school busing, and desegregation – although he eventually changed and embraced a “color blind” society. His love of the Constitution and the privacy rights of Americans regarding government surveillance of suspected “enemies” of freedom, however, never changed.

The Ervin hearings of May 1973, frequently called the Watergate Committee, were a clear demonstration of Senator Ervin’s quest to expose significant criminality, including a cover-up that led to the White House Oval Office, associated with the presidency of Richard M. Nixon. Sam Ervin took down an administration that saw itself above the law, rationalizing Constitutional side-steps by hiding behind dubious claims of national security and executive privilege.

Privacy Issues and the Army’s Enemies List

Before there was Watergate there was a secret domestic surveillance program conducted first by the U.S. Army and then transferred to the Nixon Justice Department. It was a time of intense social reaction to the Vietnam War, to events like the Kent State massacre and the president’s escalation of U.S. bombing beyond Vietnam’s borders into Cambodia. Presidential lackeys, men like William H. Rehnquist (later Chief Justice of the Supreme Court), publically supported First Amendment violations in the name of national security.

The Select Committee on Presidential Campaign Activities

Dust from Ervin’s army hearings barely settled when events conspired that would ultimately bring down a president. On June 17, 1972, the so-called White House “Plumbers” were caught breaking into the Watergate office of the Democratic National Headquarters.

The cover-up began almost immediately. Those directly involved received large cash payments to ensure their silence and the promise of lucrative jobs. Two courageous journalists, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein of the Washington Post fed their readers salient stories gleaned from tips and from leaks. By the spring 1973, Senator Ervin seemed the most logical choice to chair the select committee conceived by Majority Leader Mike Mansfield to hold hearings on the expanding scandal.

The Nixon Tapes and Start of the White House Siege Mentality

At a time many eyes in the nation were glued to their televisions, watching the hearings and awaiting Ervin’s “one-two” punch, President Nixon fought back, refusing to submit tapes disclosing Oval Office conversations, on the basis of national security and executive privilege. Existence of the tapes had been disclosed during committee hearings. The taped conversations were eventually released after a judicial battle.

Erwin had nothing to lose. In the Senate, his reputation was solid. Personally, he had no further political ambitions having decided to retire when his term expired in 1975. The White House, however, dispatched henchmen to North Carolina vainly attempting to find a shred of scandal that could be used against Ervin.

Ervin, who loved to pepper his speeches and comments with biblical allusions, was a strict Presbyterian and took his religion seriously. Nixon’s conservative lackeys, however, found nothing to embarrass the Senator.

Special Prosecutors and Impeachment

Watergate was still not “open and shut.” When did Nixon first learn of the DNC break-in? Where did the money come from to cover-up the crime? Who was part of the conspiracy and what was the ultimate motive? As Ervin’s committee sought to find answers, Richard Nixon played hardball, shutting the doors even to members of his own party.

Legacy of Sam Ervin’s Senate Hearings

Sam Ervin’s hearings, well planned for maximum impact, provided the blueprint for the Justice Department’s special prosecutor and for other Congressional committees. In the end, the Nixon White House made a mockery of separation of powers, engaged in illegal actions, and permitted the chief executive an element of autocratic leverage incompatible with Constitutional restraints.

Ervin’s last official act was to guide the Privacy Act through the Senate. The Act, “represented the fulfillment of Ervin’s long attempt to protect individuals from excessive government snooping,” according to historian Karl E. Campbell.

When Sam Ervin died in April 1985, he could not have foreseen an era when the privacy rights of American citizens would be gravely tested through new technologies tied to the internet. One wonders what his reactions would be to the new Imperial Presidency that ostensibly monitors all telephone calls, e-mails, and computer transactions in the name of national security.

References:

• Karl E. Campbell, Senator Sam Ervin, Last Of The Founding Fathers (University of North Carolina Press, 2007)
• Same J. Ervin, Jr., Humor of a Country Lawyer (University of North Carolina Press, 1983) Chapter 14
• Same Ervin, Letter dated July 5, 1973
• Barry Sussman, The Great Coverup: Nixon and the Scandal of Watergate (Catapulter books, 2010)

Copyright Michael Streich.Written permission to republish required.

 Issues and Non-Issues in the Presidential Election of 1840

Was Martin Van Buren a Dandy, a Protege of Andrew Jackson While the Nation's Economy Tanked?

Michael Streich April 12, 2012

The Presidential Election of 1840 is often reduced to the campaign slogan “Tippecanoe and Tyler, too.” The newly emerged Whig Party, led by popular figures such as Henry Clay and Daniel Webster, fought for the opportunity to send Martin Van Buren back to New York. Unfortunately, a series of events and non-issues conspired to make General William Henry Harrison the Whig frontrunner.

 

Portraying the Democrats as Insensitive Spenders

 

While Whigs portrayed Democrats as “pampered office holders,” they reintroduced their mid-western hero as a hard-drinking Indian fighter of modest means who lived in a log cabin. Building on the Jackson legend precisely to deny his heir apparent Van Buren, the Whigs managed to set aside real campaign issues, focusing instead on the wealthy and aristocratic Van Buren who had the audacity to ask Congress for an appropriation of $3,665 for White House expenditures while millions of Americans were struggling to find work and put food on the table.

 

Martin Van Burn became President in 1837 after serving as Andrew Jackson’s Vice-President. Van Buren inherited the Panic of 1837, the most significant economic downturn in the new nation since the need for a Constitution Convention in 1787, as well as the enmity of John C Calhoun and Henry Clay. Clay, who desperately wanted the 1840 nomination, reminded his listeners of, “…the heart rending wretchedness of thousands of the working class out of employment.”

 

To Southerners, Van Buren was an untrustworthy eastern establishment type whose lifestyle was compared to the monarchs of Europe. If Jackson was seen as “King Andrew” in political cartoons of the day, Van Buren was the crown prince who had turned the White House into a palace featuring sumptuous state dinners the average American could only dream about.

 

Van Buren’s pretentions were dramatically elucidated by Congressman Charles Ogle. Ogle’s congressional speech of April 14, 1840 was titled, “The Regal Splendor of the President’s Palace.” Van Buren, however, was a self-made man whose father had been a farmer and tavern keeper in Kinderhook, New York. His ancestors had arrived from Europe in the early seventeenth century as indentured servants.

 

Ignoring More Important Issues

 

Van Buren made his mark as a skillful orator and a superb organizer. There was a reason he was dubbed the “Little Magician.” His support of Andrew Jackson earned him the Vice Presidency in 1833 and Jackson’s nod in 1836 when Van Buren won the presidential election, facing a number of sectional candidates from the new Whig Party who were attempting to duplicate the 1824 presidential election by throwing the results to the House of Representatives.

 

In 1840, the chief issues were the national economy and Van Buren’s supposed indifference to the plight of unemployed and impoverished Americans. At the same time, the Whig Party championed the frontier-roots of Harrison. Real issues such as growing abolitionist concerns, the annexation of Texas, and tariffs remained in the background. By 1840, more Americans than ever before had the franchise and most of them voted on the basis of rallies, parades, and stories like Congressman Ogle’s displeasure with Van Buren’s request for $3,665 for White House expenses.

 

Van Buren lost the 1840 election but Harrison died thirty days after his inauguration, allowing John Tyler to become the first “accidental” president. Ironically, Tyler disagreed with the Whigs, alienating his only support group. Van Buren did not go quietly, returning in 1844 in a vain attempt to secure the Democratic Party nomination.

 

References:

 

Paul F. Boller, Jr., Presidential Campaigns From George Washington to George W. Bush (Oxford University Press, 2004)

Webb Garrison, A Treasury of White House Tales (Rutledge Hill Press, 1989)

Michael F. Holt, The Rise and Fall of the American Whig Party: Jacksonian Politics and the Onset of the Civil War (Oxford University Press, 1999)

Page Smith, The Nation Comes of Age: A People’s History of the Ante-Bellum Years, Volume Four (McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1981)

First published in Suite101

Copyright Michael Streich.Written permission to republish

 Why Utopian Communities Ultimately Failed

Michael Streich

September 3, 2011

The attempt at establishing a closed community of like-minded believers dates back to the Puritan experience in New England. Over the course of American history, numerous groups, both large and small, have sought to create a Utopian community, separate from the “world’s people,” as the Shakers might say. Some of the societies endured for many years before succumbing to outside forces. Others, like the Mormons, evolved into major faith denominations. Those Utopian communities that survived did so only because they successfully adapted themselves to a life of co-existence which remaining true to the dynamics that created them. Others, however, were not as successful.

 

Utopian Aspirations in the Puritan Godly Communities

 

Puritans saw themselves as distinctly different from their neighbors. They were John Winthrop’s “City on a Hill,” taken from the Gospel of Matthew in the fifth chapter. Seeing themselves as God’s chosen and the “New Israel,” their theocratic faith community lived without compromise or tolerance of other beliefs. In 1628, they sent Thomas Morton back to England and closed his estate, Merry Mount, because of immoral activities taking place there, including having sexual relations with Indians.

 

By the end of the century, however, non-Puritan influences surrounded the community and it had lost the initial zealousness. Internal dissent by Puritans like John Williams and Anne Hutchinson had fractured the solidarity of believers. In 1692, fearful that the devil was about to make war on their community, Puritans denounced and hung their neighbors in the celebrate witch trials. The City on a Hill had been breached by evil from within.

 

The Shaker Communities Endure for Many Generations

 

Mother Ann Lee brought her fledgling Shaker community to America at the end of the 18^th Century. Pursuing “authentic” Christianity, Shaker communities grew, drawing thousands to their simple lifestyle and communal living. Converts were drawn to the Shakers for many reasons, chief of which was a spiritual experience. Shakerism, however, also offered a step out of the world with its often chaotic economic and social fluctuations.

 

Shakers believed in celibacy and the community expanded only because entire families converted. Shakers also accepted orphans. Shakers were not opposed to marriage, in fact they blessed it. But the Shaker life was a special gift to fulfill a divine mission. Shakers declined during the latter years of the 19^th Century as demand for their hand-made products decreased, replaced by Industrialization and new methods of mass production.

 

The Mormon Quest for a Utopian Community

 

From the first days of the Mormon experience in Palmyra, New York, members of Joseph Smith’s “Latter Day Saints” were persecuted. With every newly established community, the persecution heightened. Like the Shakers, Mormons were communal. Following the murder of Smith by intolerant neighbors, Brigham Young led the faithful to Utah, establishing the Deseret Kingdom.

 

After the Mexican American War, however, the western territories came under the jurisdiction of the United States government. The Mormon community was again threatened. The Latter Day saints succeeded, however, because they adapted to outside influences without compromising their beliefs. Additionally, Mormon theology evolved with the times as the church repudiated plural marriage. Today, Mormons hold high political office and are viewed as a community with strong families and moral lifestyles.

 

Utopian Communities that Failed to Survive

 

Early 19^th Century America saw many social experiments like the Oneida community, Robert Owen’s “secular socialism,” and even Transcendentalists seeking to emulate Thoreau’s Walden Pond experience. Several of these communities were based on non-traditional religious and pseudo-religious beliefs. Because many of these smaller communities were driven by charismatic leaders, they eventually failed after the leaders died or were discredited.

 

Utopian communities formed, historically, during times of social upheaval. The Great Depression produced such communities and during the turbulent Vietnam War period, disenchanted young people joined communes like the Children of God, as well as more structured communities. Some followed Eastern religions like the Hare Krishnas, who managed several retreat communities in the U.S. Once the times changed, however, the appeal of Utopian communities waned. The desire to flee a complicated world may still be a prime motive for those seeking simplicity and security. If the precedents of history remain true, Utopianism may reappear in the future.

 

Sources:

 

Brian J. L. Berry, American Utopian Experiments: Communal Havens From Long-Wave Crises (University Press of New England, 1992)

Charles Nordhoff, American Utopias (Berkshire House, 1993)

Donald E. Pitzer, America’s Communal Utopias (University of North Carolina Press, 1997)

Copyright Michael Streich.Contact writer for republication rights.

 

Pacifists and Activists React to Media War Time Coverage

Mar 9, 2011 Michael Streich

The U.S. press has a long history of war reporting, often leading to the rise of pacifism and anti-war movements that have decades of precedent.

In the September 1966 issue of Esquire magazine, readers were able to catch a brief glimpse into the life of Tommy Rodd, an upper-middle class teenager with a bright future who refused to register for the military draft and fight in Vietnam. Rodd was no coward. Unlike the wars of the 21st Century, Vietnam, as seen by men like Rodd, was an everyday affair with television footage of jungle carnage and body bags shipped home to the quiet communities of white picket fences and steepled churches. Tommy Rodd was a pacifist who chose federal prison rather than a rifle. He was able to make this choice because the war filtered into every American living room.

Pacifism and the Openness of War in America

In 1916 Jeanette Rankin became the first woman to be elected to Congress. A Montana Republican, Rankin was one of the few representatives to vote against the war declaration taking the United States into the Great War and sending thousands of troops to the blood soaked battlefields of Europe. She was not reelected.

Representative Rankin was not the only person opposed to the futility of the European conflict. Many Americans were appalled by the images of trench warfare and the staggering numbers of casualties. Rankin opposed war on pacifist grounds.

Rankin ran again in 1940 and won. War once more lingered in the shadows and despite the protestations of isolationists, other Americans, including President Franklin D. Roosevelt, appeared to be steering the nation toward participation in the conflict. From propaganda to the reality of despotism in Europe and Asia, the openness of war was in every newspaper and magazine. In London, Edward R. Morrow riveted the nation with his radio broadcasts of the Blitz.

Rankin Votes against War with Imperial Japan

When Speaker Sam Rayburn called for a roll call vote in the House on December 8, 1941, everyone held their breath as he went through the states alphabetically, eventually coming to Representative Rankin. Rankin had attempted several times to gain the attention of the Speaker only to be declared out of order. Her nay vote was the only vote opposing the declaration of war.

Korea and Vietnam Cast Doubt on the Righteousness of War

The Korean War was fought, ostensibly, to thwart Communist expansion and Americans who opposed the conflict risked being labeled Communist sympathizers. Vietnam, however, was a different war. Some Americans began to question containment and President Johnson’s escalation of the war after 1964 began to attract questions and protests, notably among young Americans being drafted to fight.

The media abetted these protests by offering a forum to dissenting Americans as well as projecting the images of war on nightly news broadcasts. This increased during the presidency of Richard Nixon who came to see the media as an enemy. For conscientious objectors, the images of war confirmed what many already knew: the government’s explanations were duplicitous.

Robert F. Drinan, S.J., who served in the Congress for five terms and sat on a joint congressional committee investigating the Watergate allegations, wrote that, “…the peace community would complain that they had been gagged if the government pressured them to cease their vigorous claims that the government is excessively belligerent and warlike.” But this was only possible as long as the nation’s media accurately reported the course of the war.

The Lessons of Pacifism, Activism, and Change through Media Openness

Sociologists refer to the success of the “Lilliput Strategy.” Often used to describe anti-globalism, the same coalescence of often disparate groups both during and after Vietnam gave rise to entire new movements. These movements believed that change was possible. For pacifists, it also meant a greater accountability of the U.S. government and a rejection of long held policies supporting despotic regimes.

At the same time, war became less visible. Congress replaced the military draft with an all volunteer force and the role of media coverage in conflict areas was curtailed. During President Reagan’s first administration, for example, the Grenada operation was carried out in secrecy, without media coverage.

Additionally, 21st Century wars are remote and media coverage is tightly controlled. The conflicts impose no sacrifice on Americans who, for the most part, cannot even identify Afghanistan or Yemen on a map. Unlike the extensive media coverage of Vietnam at the time Tommy Rodd received his draft card or Representative Rankin’s anti-war votes earlier in that century, military footage today is carefully orchestrated and any hint of a draft is speedily quashed in the Congress. No Americans want another Vietnam.

Lifting the Fog of War

From protest music to student activism, Vietnam was the last conflict that polarized a nation largely due to media coverage. In 2011, war coverage is carefully scripted despite on-going polls that demonstrate a willingness among many Americans to dramatically cut defense appropriations. As long as war is sanitized by the media, pacifism and activism will be checked and there will be no withdrawal of consent among Americans.

Sources:

• Jeremy Brecher and others, “Globalization and Social Movements,” Globalization: The Transformation of Social Worlds (Wadsworth, 2012)
• Robert F. Drinan, S.J., Can God & Caesar Coexist? (Yale University Press, 2004)
• Mark Hamilton Lytle, America’s Uncivil Wars: The Sixties Era From Elvis To The Fall Of Richard Nixon (Oxford University Press, 2006)
• Bernard Weinraub, “Four Ways to Go: Tommy Rodd Went to Jail,” Esquire, September 1966

Copyright Michael Streich. Contact the author to obtain permission for republication.

 Robert Owen's Utopian Communities in 19th Century America

Michael Streich

May 29, 2011

 The family has always held prominence in American History, from colonial New England to the present. It represents the foundation of conservative values despite the fact that every new census reports fewer marriages and an ever increasing number of single-parent families. It thus came as no surprise that in the early 19^th Century Robert Owen’s communitarian experiment was vigorously attacked and, ultimately doomed to failure. Owen’s communities, much like other Utopian experiments at the time, rejected ownership of private property and established religion, community raising of children, and a socialist model of labor and wealth sharing.

 

Owen’s Clash with Established Values in American Society

 

Robert Owen was a Briton and had been successful in the pre-industrial climate in England, setting up model factory communities that paralleled his communitarian views. In the early 19^th Century he brought his ideas to America, even addressing Congress and lecturing across the fledgling nation. In America, this pre-industrial period was a time of great upheaval, culminating in the Panic of 1837.

 

Distressed Americans flocked to the various Utopian communities that emerged out of the tumultuous period. This included the Shakers, Rappites, Mormons, and Transcendentalist experiments. Owen’s communities, however, never took root, perhaps because, as Historian Page Smith writes, they were “intensely secular.” Owen’s rejection of the family as well as established religion was viewed as an attack on basic American values.

 

The Raising of Children in Utopian Communities

 

Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels were enamored with the communitarianism of Native American cultures, notably the Iroquois Confederacy, which appeared to validate a socialist model. According to anthropology professor Jack Weatherford, “The kinship states of the Indians became in Marxist thought exemplars of primitive communism.” Not only was all property held by the community, but it was the community that was responsible for the raising of children.

 

The rejection of a family unit is traced back to ancient civilizations. The Greek philosopher Plato’s Utopian civilization rejected family. In Sparta, boys were taken at birth to be trained as superb warriors. The ancient practice of infanticide guaranteed healthy and productive citizens. Deceased Yale University professor John Boswell wrote a detailed history of the abandonment of children from the ancient period into the Medieval. (The Kindness of Strangers, Pantheon) Children never occupied the position they do in modern society.

 

The American Family Rooted in New England Protestantism

 

Despite a revolution, independence, and the birth pangs of nationhood, 19^th Century Americans still identified with the Puritan “New Israel.” Jerusalem had been reborn on the shores of a new continent with a mission and vision tied to John Winthrop’s City on a Hill. The cornerstone of that relationship was the family, supported by biblical injunctions.

 

Robert Owen argued against this entrenched social reality. Even the Mormons and Shakers understood this. Shakers practiced a vibrant form of Christianity, albeit out of the mainstream from what they called “the world’s people.” Mormons, despite later acceptance of plural marriage, supported the family structure.

 

Owen’s experiment, centered in New Harmony, failed for a variety of reasons. University of Texas professor Brian J. L. Berry argues that Owen spent little time at the various communities established according to his model but preferred to travel across the country and lecture. Additionally, many joining the community were “freeloaders” and intellectuals without farming experience. Finally, Owen’s attack on family and religion spurred a backlash of anger by Americans wedded to the Protestant ideal of faith and family.

 

Owen returned to Britain but that ideal remained and does so today in Protestant ideology and conservative politics. The core of post-modern concerns regarding “same-sex marriage” is rooted in the historically American notion of family. 

 

Sources:

 

Brian J. L. Berry, America’s Utopian Experiments: Communal Havens From Long-Wave Crises (Dartmouth College, University Press of New England, 1992)

Page Smith, The Nation Comes of Age: A People’s History Of The Ante-Bellum Years, Volume 4 (McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1981)

Jack Weatherford, Indian Givers: HowThe Indians Of The Americas Transformed The World (Fawcett Books, 1988)

Copyright owned by Michael Streich. Written permission need for republishing.

 

Pope Julius II Criticized by Renaissance Writer Erasmus

May 3, 2010 Michael Streich

Tomb of Julius II by Michelangelo - Image by Michael Streich

As the "warrior pope," Julius II defined his pontificate through wars and the glories of temporal accolades, ignoring his pastoral role as supreme shepherd.

The pontificate of Julius II coincided with several movements taking place in Europe in the 15th and 16th Centuries. 15th Century popes had witnessed their power decline and state churches, clamoring for independence from what some Renaissance writers called papal tyranny, were seeking autonomy. Church councils, such as at Constance in 1414, attempted to erode the power of the pontiff. Heretical movements expanded. In Italy, however, Pope Julius II attempted to combat these movements, albeit at the expense of spirituality. Julius is characterized as a “warrior pope.” Writer Ross King states that, “No pope before or since has enjoyed such a fearsome reputation.” But Julius had his critics, among them the Christian Humanist, Erasmus.

Erasmus Criticizes Julius II

In Praise of Folly (1511) declares that the popes “contend with fire and sword, and not without loss of much Christian blood…” (Erasmus) In his 1517 Querela Pacis, Erasmus asks, “What have the helmet and mitre in common?” It was his 1513 pamphlet, Julius Exclusus (Pope Julius Excluded from Heaven) that described in comic conversation the picture of a pope far removed from the image of St. Peter.

Presenting a hypothetical conversation between Julius and Peter at the gates of heaven, the Apostle and first pope (according to Catholic tradition), tells Julius, “I see a horrible flood of soldiers with you, smelling of nothing but brothels, drunkenness, and gun powder.” Julius asks Peter if he does not recognize him but Peter answers, “See? I certainly see a new and never-before-seen spectacle, not to say a monster.”

The warrior pope identifies himself with the initials “PM,” which stand for Pontifex Maximus, the supreme pontiff. The title was borrowed from Ancient Rome by the early church. In Rome, it referred to the chief priest and can be traced back to the Etruscan language. Peter, however, responds with Pestis Maxima. Pestis, in Latin, refers to a deadly disease or a plague; maxima can be translated as the greatest personification.

Julius as the Warrior Pope

French historian R. Aubenas writes that Julius II was, “endowed with the gifts of a warrior…” Julius personally led troops against the Venetian city-state as well as France. Ross King writes that after defeating Venice, Julius returned to Rome as a conqueror, timing his return with Palm Sunday. “The pope did not see himself merely as the new Julius Caesar.” King draws a parallel to Christ’s entry into Jerusalem. But the Roman procession was, by far, more opulent. When Venetian envoys arrived in Rome in 1510, the five ambassadors were required to kneel before the pope and kiss his foot. It was Pope Julius II who founded the Swiss Guards that protect the pope to this day.

The Reformation Weakens the Papal Monarchy

In 1517 an Augustinian monk named Martin Luther published 95 theological debate points, beginning a church reformation movement in Germany. Aubenas writes that Germany had, “a prolonged hatred of popes…” In 1545, a broadsheet, signed by Martin Luther, depicted Pope Clement IV about to decapitate Conrad IV. Although it was historically incorrect and only served the purposes of propaganda, such images stirred up “German feeling against papal claims to supremacy over Germany and the Emperor....,” according to R.W. Scribner.

Popes after Julius II would never again wield such great power or command armies. Despite the efforts of Julius II to promote a stronger papacy, the opposite occurred. Peter, in the Erasmus pamphlet, ends telling Julius, “The appearance of your whole person suggests that it is not with age and disease but through dissipation that you seem old, withered, and broken.” These words would define future papacies beset with the rise of nation states, Enlightenment philosophy, and the coming of modern civilization.

Note: Although Michelangelo completed a magnificent tomb for Pope Julius II in the basilica of St. Peter in Chains, his remains were never entombed there. (see image)

References:

• R. Aubenas, “The Papacy and the Catholic Church,” The Renaissance1493-1520, Edited by Denys Hay, The New Cambridge Modern History, Volume I (Cambridge University Press, 1957)
• Erasmus, “Pope Julius Excluded from Heaven,” Pearson/Prentice Hall Primary Source Documents, 2008
• Ross King, Michelangelo and the Pope’s Ceiling (Penguin Books, 2003)
• R.W. Scribner, Popular Culture and Popular Movements in Reformation Germany (The Hambledon Press, 1987)

Copyright Michael Streich. Contact the author to obtain permission for republication

 

Luther's Visit to Rome Influenced the Coming Reformation

Dec 7, 2010 Michael Streich

Luther's Visit to Rome in 1510/1511 - Mike Streich photo image

Martin Luther journey to Rome in late 1510 intended to reap spiritual benefits, but was impacted by a city steeped in vice and irreligious activity.

Six years before penning his Ninety-Five Theses, Martin Luther journeyed to Rome from Erfurt, accompanying an older monk on official business for the Augustinian order. For Luther, visiting Rome represented a personal pilgrimage few Christians would ever experience. Rome was the eternal city, the city of the pope. It was a treasure house of relics, watched over by the thousands of martyrs buried in the catacombs. What Luther found, however, was, as one writer commented, a “wasteland of rubble.” Some historical scholarship suggests that Luther’s eventual conclusion that the just shall live by faith began here, in the Rome he saw in 1510/1511.

Luther’s Rome was a City of Beggars, Prostitutes, and Irreligious Behavior

The Renaissance had not yet reached Rome, excepting behind the closed doors of aristocratic palaces, many owned by high ranking members of the curia. Both Michelangelo and Raphael were toiling with works of art that would come to represent the zenith of Renaissance expression. Pope Julius II, the “warrior pope,” was waging war elsewhere in Italy.

In this city, “…the proverbial cesspool of vice,” according to Luther historian Heiko Oberman, Luther and his colleague would seek a spiritual experience when not pursuing their official business. At 27, Luther was the junior representative, a chaperon of sorts who sat in antechambers while his elder companion strove to negotiate among the men of power and influence.

What Luther saw as he meandered through the dirty streets was a population of brigands, beggars, prostitutes, homosexual priests, and members of the clergy that openly mocked the Eucharist during Mass. The city itself was rundown. St. Peter’s basilica was in the earliest stages of reconstruction. It rained every day and most wealthy Romans had left the city.

Luther’s Piety and the Beginning of Doubt

Luther visited all of the principal basilicas in the city as well as particular churches that housed rare and costly relics. He prayed for his family and especially his grandfather, hoping to lessen the man’s stay in purgatory by climbing the “Holy Staircase” at the Lateran Palace on his knees, saying an “Our Father” with each step.

The staircase had been transported to Rome from Jerusalem during the days of the early church. According to tradition, these were the steps Jesus had taken to be judged by Pilate. Oberman, in his biography of Luther, cites a conversation Luther had with his son Paul much later in life. In that conversation, Luther related his first doubts, mentioned earlier by Luther to his students, and his recollection of Paul’s epistle to the Romans in which the Apostle stated that “the just shall live by faith.”

Luther’s Visit to Rome and the Coming Reformation

Harvard historian Richard Marius states that Luther never spoke of the negative observations relevant to his journey to Rome. Oberman pointedly rejects the notion that Rome itself or the pope led to Luther’s theological questions, arguing, in fact, that Luther was still a “fierce papist.”

But the shame and abuse of indulgences caused Luther to doubt, a doubt that would culminate in the Ninety-Five Theses and the eventual break with Rome. In his last years, the “fierce papist” came to see the pope as the Antichrist, describing the Vicar of Christ in crude, scatological language.

Erik H. Erikson, whose psychoanalytical biography of Luther addressed, among other things, Luther’s self-identity crisis, writes that “His attempt to devote himself…to some highly promoted observances in Rome seems to indicate a last endeavor on his part to settle his inner unrest with ceremonial fervor, by the accomplishment of works.”

Impressions run deep and can be lasting. When Luther first saw Rome, he fell on his knees and exclaimed, “salve sancta Roma!” Much later, however, as Richard Marius writes, “Rome was the head of all crimes and the seat of the devil.” The city of God, it seemed to Luther, was built over hell.

Impact of Rome on Luther after Returning to Erfurt

Shortly after his return, Luther abandoned the position of the Erfurt monastery which favored a less stringent application of community living for monks, and supported the more conservative Johannes Staupitz. Luther moved to the University at Wittenberg. To what extent might his observations in Rome have contributed to this decision?

After 1517, a theologically enlightened Luther rejected Church tradition, indulgences, relics, and those many trappings of the Medieval Church that he saw degraded by even the highest ranking members of the curia while visiting Rome.

It was rumored that Pope Julius II suffered from syphilis and had engaged in homosexual acts. At least one prior pope had been linked to incest. In Rome itself, priests mocked the Eucharist, mumbling in Latin, “Bread thou art and bread thou shalt remain…” For a man as sensitive as Luther, these impressions must have been shocking.

Any objective impacts Luther’s visit to Rome had remain speculative, since there are no written records linking that visit to his immediate years back in Saxony. Luther did refer to Rome in his later years, but by then he had already concluded that Rome, as symbolic of the Church, was of the devil. The Roman experience was a step, a seed planted for future fruit. Luther’s memories of that journey may have added to his eventual conclusions.

Sources:

• Erik H. Erikson, Young Man Luther: A Study In Psychoanalysis and History (W. W. Norton & Company, 1962)
• Ross King, Michelangelo and the Pope’s Ceiling (Penguin Books, 3003)
• Richard Marius, Martin Luther: The Christian Between God and Death (The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1999)
• Heiko A. Oberman, Luther: Man between God and the Devil (Yale University Press, 1989)

Copyright Michael Streich. Contact the author to obtain permission for republication.