The Really Big Charter
Just in time for the destruction of our government comes the 800th anniversary of the Magna Carta. It’s one of those ironies that you just can’t invent. Something brought to life exactly eight centuries ago is now being shredded in Washington, D.C.
The Magna Carta isn’t exactly a one-off. The first edition, signed by King John with a proverbial gun (pikestaff?) to his head, was drafted in 1215 and then revoked in a snit. You can imagine why the king wanted to shake it loose. It was the first time in the history of Western governance that a king was constrained by a compact with his subjects. The ball went across the net a couple of times until the Final Version in 1225. That’s the one that left the deepest impression, and its anniversary is the one we’re celebrating this year.
The influence of these documents is hard to overstate. Taken as a whole (which means melding the various versions), they represent a step toward horizonal power. If you are suspected of a crime, you have the right to a jury. You cannot be imprisoned on a whim or an impulse. A fine must be proportional to the offense. Sixty-three clauses were imposed on the king by a group of restive barons and ecclesiastical muckety-mucks protesting John’s extortionate taxes and emboldened by his absence to fight a war in France.
The most important gain was the enshrinement of due process and the notion that the law itself was supreme. No one was exempt from its determinative power; even the king could be held accountable to its force. By the time of the Enlightenment and the American Revolution, such principles were considered axiomatic. They are reflected in the language of the Declaration of Independence, the American Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. If I were writing the potted history of the Magna Carta, I would point to another source in the Book of Genesis. Abraham asks the God who addresses him “Shall not the Judge of the whole earth deal justly?” If God must be just, how much more so the king?
As they say in the shredding biz, too bad for us. When the Supreme Court was asked to decide this very issue—is the President required to obey the law?—it chose to ignore eight centuries of legal history and barfed up its endorsement of the so-called Unitary Executive. That means the President sort-of has to obey, but not if it’s really inconvenient. You just don’t want to interfere with despotic power, and you should patiently presume the President’s innocence until you hear the clanking of the leg irons. At that point, it’s still an even bet, but you’d better get used to the taste of gruel.
In my heart, I know what the barons would say. If you kill a man in broad daylight on Fifth Avenue, the Sheriff of Nottingham will be right on your tail.
On the frontispiece: King John