Democracy In America, Excerpt from the first volume By Alexis de Toqueville.

From:

Democracy In America, first volume

By Alexis de Toqueville.

Translated by Henry Reeve.

Chapter Seven, Political Jurisdiction In The United States.

If we now compare the American and the European systems, we shall meet
with differences no less striking in the different effects which each
of them produces or may produce. In France and in England the
jurisdiction of political bodies is looked upon as an extraordinary
resource, which is only to be employed in order to rescue society from
unwonted dangers. It is not to be denied that these tribunals, as they
are constituted in Europe, are apt to violate the conservative
principle of the balance of power in the State, and to threaten
incessantly the lives and liberties of the subject. The same political
jurisdiction in the United States is only indirectly hostile to the
balance of power; it cannot menace the lives of the citizens, and it
does not hover, as in Europe, over the heads of the community, since
those only who have submitted to its authority on accepting office are
exposed to the severity of its investigations. It is at the same time
less formidable and less efficacious; indeed, it has not been
considered by the legislators of the United States as a remedy for the
more violent evils of society, but as an ordinary means of conducting
the government. In this respect it probably exercises more real
influence on the social body in America than in Europe.

We must not be
misled by the apparent mildness of the American legislation in all that
relates to political jurisdiction. It is to be observed, in the first
place, that in the United States the tribunal which passes sentence is
composed of the same elements, and subject to the same influences, as
the body which impeaches the offender, and that this uniformity gives
an almost irresistible impulse to the vindictive passions of parties.
If political judges in the United States cannot inflict such heavy
penalties as those of Europe, there is the less chance of their
acquitting a prisoner; and the conviction, if it is less formidable, is
more certain. The principal object of the political tribunals of Europe
is to punish the offender; the purpose of those in America is to
deprive him of his authority. A political condemnation in the United
States may, therefore, be looked upon as a preventive measure; and
there is no reason for restricting the judges to the exact definitions
of criminal law. Nothing can be more alarming than the excessive
latitude with which political offences are described in the laws of
America.

Article Two, Section four, of the Constitution of the United
States runs thus: “The President, Vice-President, and all civil
officers of the United States shall be removed from office on
impeachment for, and conviction of, treason, bribery, or other high
crimes and misdemeanors.” Many of the Constitutions of the States are
even less explicit. “Public officers,” says the Constitution of
Massachusetts, “shall be impeached for misconduct or
maladministration;” the Constitution of Virginia declares that all the
civil officers who shall have offended against the State, by
maladministration, corruption, or other high crimes, may be impeached
by the House of Delegates; in some constitutions no offences are
specified, in order to subject the public functionaries to an unlimited
responsibility. But I will venture to affirm that it is precisely
their mildness which renders the American laws most formidable in this
respect. We have shown that in Europe the removal of a functionary and
his political interdiction are the consequences of the penalty he is to
undergo, and that in America they constitute the penalty itself. The
consequence is that in Europe political tribunals are invested with
rights which they are afraid to use, and that the fear of punishing too
much hinders them from punishing at all.

But in America no one
hesitates to inflict a penalty from which humanity does not recoil. To
condemn a political opponent to death, in order to deprive him of his
power, is to commit what all the world would execrate as a horrible
assassination; but to declare that opponent unworthy to exercise that
authority, to deprive him of it, and to leave him uninjured in life and
limb, may be judged to be the fair issue of the struggle. But this
sentence, which it is so easy to pronounce, is not the less fatally
severe to the majority of those upon whom it is inflicted. Great
criminals may undoubtedly brave its intangible rigor, but ordinary
offenders will dread it as a condemnation which destroys their position
in the world, casts a blight upon their honor, and condemns them to a
shameful inactivity worse than death. The influence exercised in the
United States upon the progress of society by the jurisdiction of
political bodies may not appear to be formidable, but it is only the
more immense. It does not directly coerce the subject, but it renders
the majority more absolute over those in power; it does not confer an
unbounded authority on the legislator which can be exerted at some
momentous crisis, but it establishes a temperate and regular influence,
which is at all times available. If the power is decreased, it can, on
the other hand, be more conveniently employed and more easily abused.
By preventing political tribunals from inflicting judicial punishments
the Americans seem to have eluded the worst consequences of legislative
tyranny, rather than tyranny itself; and I am not sure that political
jurisdiction, as it is constituted in the United States, is not the
most formidable weapon which has ever been placed in the rude grasp of
a popular majority. When the American republics begin to degenerate it
will be easy to verify the truth of this observation, by remarking
whether the number of political impeachments augments.

The impeachment of President Andrew Johnson in 1868, which was resorted
to by his political opponents solely as a means of turning him out of
office, for it could not be contended that he had been guilty of high
crimes and misdemeanors, and he was in fact honorably acquitted and
reinstated in office—is a striking confirmation of the truth of this
remark. Translator’s Note, 1874.