{"product_id":"americas-constitution-isbn-9780812972726","title":"America's Constitution","description":"In \u003cb\u003eAmerica’s Constitution\u003c\/b\u003e, one of this era’s most accomplished constitutional law scholars, Akhil Reed Amar, gives the first comprehensive account of one of the world’s great political texts. Incisive, entertaining, and occasionally controversial, this “biography” of America’s framing document explains not only what the Constitution says but also why the Constitution says it. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe all know this much: the Constitution is neither immutable nor perfect. Amar shows us how the story of this one relatively compact document reflects the story of America more generally. (For example, much of the Constitution, including the glorious-sounding “We the People,” was lifted from existing American legal texts, including early state constitutions.) In short, the Constitution was as much a product of its environment as it was a product of its individual creators’ inspired genius.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDespite the Constitution’s flaws, its role in guiding our republic has been nothing short of amazing. Skillfully placing the document in the context of late-eighteenth-century American politics, America’s Constitution explains, for instance, whether there is anything in the Constitution that is unamendable; the reason America adopted an electoral college; why a president must be at least thirty-five years old; and why–for now, at least–only those citizens who were born under the American flag can become president. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom his unique perspective, Amar also gives us unconventional wisdom about the Constitution and its significance throughout the nation’s history. For one thing, we see that the Constitution has been far more democratic than is conventionally understood. Even though the document was drafted by white landholders, a remarkably large number of citizens (by the standards of 1787) were allowed to vote up or down on it, and the document’s later amendments eventually extended the vote to virtually all Americans. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe also learn that the Founders’ Constitution was far more slavocratic than many would acknowledge: the “three fifths” clause gave the South extra political clout for every slave it owned or acquired. As a result, slaveholding Virginians held the presidency all but four of the Republic’s first thirty-six years, and proslavery forces eventually came to dominate much of the federal government prior to Lincoln’s election.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAmbitious, even-handed, eminently accessible, and often surprising, \u003cb\u003eAmerica’s Constitution\u003c\/b\u003e is an indispensable work, bound to become a standard reference for any student of history and all citizens of the United States.Akhil Reed Amar graduated from Yale College and Yale Law School, and has been a member of the Yale Law School faculty since 1985. He is the author of \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Bill of Rights: Creation and Reconstruction\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e and has written widely on constitutional issues for \u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e. He lives in Woodbridge, Connecticut, with his wife and three children.Chapter 1    In the Beginning    The Pennsylvania Packet, and Daily Advertiser (September 19, 1787).    When, after a summer of closed meetings in Philadelphia, America’s leading  statesmen went public with their proposed Constitution on September 17,  1787, newspapers rushed to print the proposal in its entirety. In several  printings, the dramatic words of the Preamble appeared in particularly  large type.          It started with a bang. Ordinary citizens would govern themselves across a  continent and over the centuries, under rules that the populace would  ratify and could revise. By uniting previously independent states into a  vast and indivisible nation, New World republicans would keep Old World  monarchs at a distance and thus make democracy work on a scale never  before dreamed possible.    “We . . . do”    With simple words placed in the document’s most prominent location, the  Preamble laid the foundation for all that followed. “We the People of the  United States, . . . do ordain and establish this Constitution . . .”    These words did more than promise popular self-government. They also  embodied and enacted it. Like the phrases “I do” in an exchange of wedding  vows and “I accept” in a contract, the Preamble’s words actually performed  the very thing they described. Thus the Founders’ “Constitution” was not  merely a text but a deed—a constituting. We the People do ordain. In the  late 1780s, this was the most democratic deed the world had ever seen.    Behind this act of ordainment and establishment stood countless ordinary  American voters who gave their consent to the Constitution via specially  elected ratifying conventions held in the thirteen states beginning in  late 1787. Until these ratifications took place, the Constitution’s words  were a mere proposal—the text of a contract yet to be accepted, the script  of a wedding still to be performed.    The proposal itself had emerged from a special conclave held in  Philadelphia during the summer of 1787. Twelve state governments—all  except Rhode Island’s—had tapped several dozen leading public servants and  private citizens to meet in Philadelphia and ponder possible revisions of  the Articles of Confederation, the interstate compact that Americans had  formed during the Revolutionary War. After deliberating behind closed  doors for months, the Philadelphia conferees unveiled their joint proposal  in mid-September in a document signed by thirty-nine of the continent’s  most eminent men, including George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, James  Wilson, Roger Sherman, James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, Gouverneur  Morris, John Rutledge, and Nathaniel Gorham. When these notables put their  names on the page, they put their reputations on the line.    An enormous task of political persuasion lay ahead. Several of the leaders  who had come to Philadelphia had quit the conclave in disgust, and others  who had stayed to the end had refused to endorse the final script. Such  men—John Lansing, Robert Yates, Luther Martin, John Francis Mercer, Edmund  Randolph, George Mason, and Elbridge Gerry—could be expected to oppose  ratification and to urge their political allies to do the same. No one  could be certain how the American people would ultimately respond to the  competing appeals. Prior to 1787, only two states, Massachusetts and New  Hampshire, had ever brought proposed state constitutions before the people  to be voted up or down in some special way. The combined track record from  this pair of states was sobering: two successful popular ratifications out  of six total attempts.    In the end, the federal Constitution proposed by Washington and company  would barely squeak through. By its own terms, the document would go into  effect only if ratified by specially elected conventions in at least nine  states, and even then only states that said yes would be bound. In late  1787 and early 1788, supporters of the Constitution won relatively easy  ratifications in Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Georgia, and  Connecticut. Massachusetts joined their ranks in February 1788, saying “we  do” only after weeks of debate and by a close vote, 187 to 168. Then came  lopsided yes votes in Maryland and South Carolina, bringing the total to  eight ratifications, one shy of the mark. Even so, in mid-June 1788, a  full nine months after the publication of the Philadelphia proposal, the  Constitution was still struggling to be born, and its fate remained  uncertain. Organized opposition ran strong in all the places that had yet  to say yes, which included three of America’s largest and most influential  states. At last, on June 21, tiny New Hampshire became the decisive ninth  state by the margin of 57 to 47. A few days later, before news from the  North had arrived, Virginia voted her approval, 89 to 79.    All eyes then turned to New York, where Anti-Federalists initially held a  commanding lead inside the convention. Without the acquiescence of this  key state, could the new Constitution really work as planned? On the other  hand, was New York truly willing to say no and go it alone now that her  neighbors had agreed to form a new, more perfect union among themselves?  In late July, the state ultimately said yes by a vote of 30 to 27. A  switch of only a couple of votes would have reversed the outcome.  Meanwhile, the last two states, North Carolina and Rhode Island, refused  to ratify in 1788. They would ultimately join the new union in late 1789  and mid-1790, respectively—well after George Washington took office as  president of the new (eleven!) United States.    Although the ratification votes in the several states did not occur by  direct statewide referenda, the various ratifying conventions did aim to  represent “the People” in a particularly emphatic way—more directly than  ordinary legislatures. Taking their cue from the Preamble’s bold “We the  People” language, several states waived standard voting restrictions and  allowed a uniquely broad class of citizens to vote for  ratification-convention delegates. For instance, New York temporarily set  aside its usual property qualifications and, for the first time in its  history, invited all free adult male citizens to vote.1 Also, states  generally allowed an especially broad group of Americans to serve as  ratifying-convention delegates. Among the many states that ordinarily  required upper-house lawmakers to meet higher property qualifications than  lower-house members, none held convention delegates to the higher  standard, and most exempted delegates even from the lower. All told, eight  states elected convention delegates under special rules that were more  populist and less property-focused than normal, and two others followed  standing rules that let virtually all taxpaying adult male citizens vote.  No state employed spe-cial election rules that were more property-based or  less populist than normal.    In the extraordinarily extended and inclusive ratification process  envisioned by the Preamble, Americans regularly found themselves  discussing the Preamble itself. At Philadelphia, the earliest draft of the  Preamble had come from the quill of Pennsylvania’s James Wilson,3 and it  was Wilson who took the lead in explaining the Preamble’s principles in a  series of early and influential ratification speeches. Pennsylvania  Anti-Federalists complained that the Philadelphia notables had overreached  in proposing an entirely new Constitution rather than a mere modification  of the existing Articles of Confederation. In response, Wilson—America’s  leading lawyer and one of only six men to have signed both the Declaration  of Independence and the Constitution—stressed the significance of popular  ratification. “This Constitution, proposed by [the Philadelphia  draftsmen], claims no more than a production of the same nature would  claim, flowing from a private pen. It is laid before the citizens of the  United States, unfettered by restraint. . . . By their fiat, it will  become of value and authority; without it, it will never receive the  character of authenticity and power.”4 James Madison agreed, as he made  clear in a mid-January 1788 New York newspaper essay today known as The  Federalist No. 40—one of a long series of columns that he wrote in  partnership with Alexander Hamilton and John Jay under the shared pen name  “Publius.” According to Madison\/Publius, the Philadelphia draftsmen had  merely “proposed a Constitution which is to be of no more consequence than  the paper on which it is written, unless it be stamped with the  approbation of those to whom it is addressed. [The proposal] was to be  submitted to the people themselves, [and] the disapprobation of this  supreme authority would destroy it forever; its approbation blot out  antecedent errors and irregu-larities.” Leading Federalists across the  continent reiterated the point in similar language.    With the word fiat, Wilson gently called to mind the opening lines of  Genesis. In the beginning, God said, fiat lux, and—behold!—there was  light. So, too, when the American people (Publius’s “supreme authority”)  said, “We do ordain and establish,” that very statement would do the deed.  “Let there be a Constitution”—and there would be one. As the ulti-mate  sovereign of all had once made man in his own image, so now the temporal  sovereign of America, the people themselves, would make a constitution in  their own image.    All this was breathtakingly novel. In 1787, democratic self-government  existed almost nowhere on earth. Kings, emperors, czars, princes, sultans,  moguls, feudal lords, and tribal chiefs held sway across the globe. Even  England featured a limited monarchy and an entrenched aristocracy  alongside a House of Commons that rested on a restricted and uneven  electoral base. The vaunted English Constitution that American colonists  had grown up admiring prior to the struggle for independence was an  imprecise hodgepodge of institutions, enactments, cases, usages, maxims,  procedures, and principles that had accreted and evolved over many  centuries. This Constitution had never been reduced to a single composite  writing and voted on by the British people or even by Parliament.    The ancient world had seen small-scale democracies in various Greek  city-states and pre-imperial Rome, but none of these had been founded in  fully democratic fashion. In the most famous cases, one man—a celebrated  lawgiver such as Athens’s Solon or Sparta’s Lycurgus—had unilaterally  ordained his countrymen’s constitution. Before the American Revolution, no  people had ever explicitly voted on their own written constitution.    Nor did the Revolution itself immediately inaugurate popular ordainments  and establishments. True, the 1776 Declaration of Independence proclaimed  the “self-evident” truth that “Governments are instituted among Men,  deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed.” The document  went on to assert that “whenever any Form of Government becomes  destructive of [its legitimate] Ends, it is the Right of the People to  alter and abolish it, and to institute new Government.” Yet the  Declaration only imperfectly acted out its bold script. Its fifty-six  acclaimed signers never put the document to any sort of popular vote.    Between April and July 1776, countless similar declarations issued from  assorted towns, counties, parishes, informal assemblies, grand juries,  militia units, and legislatures across America.8 By then, however, the  colonies were already under military attack, and conditions often made it  impossible to achieve inclusive deliberation or scrupulous tabulation.  Many patriots saw Crown loyalists in their midst not as fellow citizens  free to vote their honest judgment with impunity, but rather as traitors  deserving tar and feathers, or worse. (Virtually no arch-loyalist went on  to become a particularly noteworthy political leader in independent  America. By contrast, many who would vigorously oppose the Constitution in  1787–88—such as Maryland’s Samuel Chase and Luther Martin, Virginia’s  Patrick Henry and James Monroe, and New York’s George Clinton and John  Lansing—moved on to illustrious post-ratification careers.    Shortly before and after the Declaration of Independence, new state  governments began to take shape, filling the void created by the ouster of  George III. None of the state constitutions ordained in the first months  of the Revolution was voted on by the electorate or by a specially elected  ratifying convention of the people. In many states, sitting legislatures  or closely analogous Revolutionary entities declared themselves solons and  promulgated or revised constitutions on their own authority, sometimes  without even waiting for new elections that might have given their  constituents more say in the matter, or at least advance notice of their  specific constitutional intentions.    In late 1777, patriot leaders in the Continental Congress proposed a set  of Articles of Confederation to govern relations among the thirteen  states. This document was then sent out to be ratified by the thirteen  state legislatures, none of which asked the citizens themselves to vote in  any special way on the matter.    Things began to change as the Revolution wore on. In 1780, Massachusetts  enacted a new state constitution that had come directly before the voters  assembled in their respective townships and won their approval. In 1784,  New Hampshire did the same. These local dress rehearsals (for so they seem  in retrospect) set the stage for the Preamble’s great act of continental  popular sovereignty in the late 1780s.    As Benjamin Franklin and other Americans had achieved famous advances in  the natural sciences—in Franklin’s case, the invention of bifocals, the  lightning rod, and the Franklin stove—so with the Constitution America  could boast a breakthrough in political science. Never be-fore had so many  ordinary people been invited to deliberate and vote on the supreme law  under which they and their posterity would be governed. James Wilson  fairly burst with pride in an oration delivered in Philadelphia to some  twenty thousand merrymakers gathered for a grand parade on July 4, 1788.  By that date, enough Americans had said “We do” so as to guarantee that  the Constitution would go into effect (at least in ten states—the document  was still pending in the other three). The “spectacle, which we are  assembled to celebrate,” Wilson declared, was “the most dignified one that  has yet appeared on our globe,” namely, a people free and enlightened, establishing and ratifying a system of  government, which they have previously considered, examined, and approved!  . . .    . . . You have heard of Sparta, of Athens, and of Rome; you have heard of  their admired constitutions, and of their high-prized free-dom. . . . But  did they, in all their pomp and pride of liberty, ever furnish, to the  astonished world, an exhibition similar to that which we now contemplate?  Were their constitutions framed by those, who were appointed for that  purpose, by the people? After they were framed, were they submitted to the  consideration of the people? Had the people an opportunity of expressing  their sentiments concerning them? Were they to stand or fall by the  people’s approving or rejecting vote?    The great deed was done. The people had taken center stage and enacted  their own supreme law.","brand":"Random House Trade Paperbacks","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302241784037,"sku":"NP9780812972726","price":25.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780812972726.jpg?v=1767721447","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/americas-constitution-isbn-9780812972726","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}