The modern trend in writing the history of the United States
is to look to the past for reasons to revile the present. It began after WWII
and has grown to the point that the postmodern equivalent of patriotism is to
be unpatriotic, finding fault with anything and everything about America’s
heritage. The prototypical example of this phenomenon can be found on a YouTube
clip entitled “The Most Honest Three Minutes on TV Ever,” in which an actor
delivers a non sequitur-laden rant against anything and everything American. Why
this piece could more properly be labeled “The Most Dishonest Short-Course in
American History Ever” has been
demonstrated by any number of commentators. (See, for example: Walter Campbell’s
Why
the Most Honest 3 Minutes on TV Ever is a Lie and Steven Crowder’s Newsroom
Rebuttal: America is not the Greatest Country in the World?)
I am a great believer in reading history critically, but for
the purpose of learning from the past, not vilifying the present. I recall one
episode from French history where men whose philosophy coincided with “The Most
[dis]Honest Three Minutes” took over. They then began to dismantle every
institution from the hated “Ancien Regime” and replace them with more “democratic”
institutions. The results were Robespierre and the Reign of Terror and Napoleon Bonaparte’s devastation of France and most of Western
Europe.
I think I see a lesson from the past which can help us avoid
replicating France’s Reign of Terror. We begin by remembering that the Founding Fathers set up America as a republic modeled after the Roman
Republic. An essential aspect of the Roman Republic which was not written into
our Constitution was the Cursus Honorum,
or “course of honor” which a Roman politician had to go through before
reaching the highest levels of government.
Here is a very abbreviated description of the Cursus Honorum: Anyone aspiring to
public office in Rome had to travel the Cursus
Honorum, which began with the office of Quaestor,
and aspiring politicians were not qualified to serve as Quaestors until they
had served ten years in the military. After serving as a Quaestor, the
politician was then entitled to stand for election as a Tribune or Aedile. Once
that step was completed, the next office was that of Praetor, an
office which had extensive judicial and military powers. Praetors entered the Senate on
the expiration of their terms in office, and became eligible to run for the
highest executive office, Consul (roughly
equivalent to President and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces). There were
age requirements for each office, and a man could not lawfully become a Consul
until he was in his 40’s. By the time a man became Consul, he was well-schooled
in how the government worked and eminently qualified to serve. It was a good
system, and I have belonged to a number of civic and professional organizations
which had their own version of the Cursus Honorum etched into their DNA.
Toward the end of the Republic, the Cursus Honorum began to break
down, and that breakdown contributed to the fall of the Republic. Men who had
not traveled the course assumed high office neither having gained the
requisite experience nor displayed the requisite virtue. Things went from bad
to worse through a series of crises and civil wars until finally Octavian
emerged as the last man standing and became Caesar Augustus, the first Roman
Emperor.
The Founding Fathers possibly did not include a Cursus Honorum in the Constitution because it was unthinkable that anyone could become president without having extensive service in lesser governmental offices. For most of American’s existence, our Presidents have
traveled an unofficial Cursus Honorum.
Before becoming president, George Washington served as an officer in the French
and Indian War, as a delegate to the First
and Second Continental Congresses, as General of the Continental Army during
the Revolution, and as president of the Constitutional Convention. You could trace a similar pathway for most of
our early presidents.
In the latter half of the Twentieth Century the American
Republic’s unofficial Cursus Honorum
began to break down under the pervasive influence of two things the Founding Fathers could never have anticipated—modern media and the cult
of celebrity. We began to elect people to high office whose only qualifications seemed
to be popularity as singers (e.g. Sonny Bono), actors (e.g. Jesse Ventura), or comedians
(e.g. Al Franken). The exception which “proves” the rule is Ronald Reagan. (I didn't vote for him because I thought he was "just an actor"). Actually, however, Reagan had traveled a form of the Cursus Honorum—before becoming President, Reagan had served in the
military, as President of the Screen Actor’s
Guild, and as Governor of California.
Today we have a President whose qualifications for office
seem to be a massive ego, reality TV stardom, and a tendency to shoot off his
mouth before his brain is loaded; and we have the prospect of a future
president who is on record as saying she
is not qualified but is now considering a run. (Because if Trump can do it, why can't she?) If she did run, her
qualifications would appear to be a massive ego, television celebrity, and the ability to
deliver a stirring speech. But isn't that what actors are trained to do? Deliver stirring speeches without necessarily meaning or even understanding a word they say?
America needs a Constitutional amendment setting up a Cursus Honorum for the office of president.
I suggest a three-step course for the American President. [1] Military service,
[2] service in high office on the state level (e.g., Governor, Cabinet Member,
or Legislator), and finally [3] service in high office on the National level (e.g.,
Cabinet Member, Representative, or Senator). If celebrities want to run for President,
let them first walk the Cursus Honorum.
