When a Jewel of Democracy is Lost
For over two centuries, America's dedication to the peaceful transfer of power was a shining expression of its commitment to democracy
In the cascade of desecrations, degradations and criminal violations that defined the Trump years, it was hard to not grow accustomed or numb toward the daily, escalating madness. For many of us, even while we tried to remain clear-eyed from day to day, January 6 was a turning point—a heinous, horrific, deadly and vile moment in the nation’s history that could not be forgotten and cannot be overcome without prosecution of the myriad participants.
But it strikes me that many of us may not have had time, in that can’t-believe-my-eyes reality, just how shattering it was for a nation that has prided itself on the sacred act of transferring the presidency from one occupant to the next without violence or bloodshed.
The peaceful transfer of power: It has a magisterial ring to me, a glorious expression of a country that believed in the capacity of people to create a democratic system of self-governance, honor and mutual respect that could distinguish itself from the long march of world history when power would be taken at the end of a barrel, with wars and revolutions.
The peaceful transfer of power: The sacred act committed in a healthy democracy, no matter how much the loss at the ballot box and the loss of power may hurt. This was the act committed for over two centuries of American history.
Every four or eight years (with the exception of Franklin Delano Roosevelt), the mantle would pass and the man who held ultimate power would recognize his responsibility to our democracy and to a sacred, noble process and step back from that position to honor the one coming next. Forty-four times this happened in American history—over 224 years—until Donald J. Trump came along to desecrate the country one more time and refuse to respect the peaceful transfer of power.
It started in 1897, when George Washington chose to step down after two terms as the first President of the United States, handing over the reins to John Adams after enduring, as biographer Ron Chernow put it, “an excruciating round of farewell parties, balls, dinners and receptions.” On the day of Adams’ inauguration, March 4, 1797, Washington was said to look “radiant.” Adams would later write that Washington looked “as serene and unclouded as the day.”
Four years later, after a humiliating defeat, Adams left Washington, D.C., without attending the inauguration of Thomas Jefferson. But as painful as that loss was for him, he peacefully surrendered power to his political rival, laying the precedent for over two centuries following hard-fought contests at the ballot box.
Fast forward to December 13, 2000: It was five long weeks after the presidential election when Al Gore won the popular vote over George W. Bush—yet ultimately lost the Electoral College vote (271-266) when the Supreme Court ruled that Bush won Florida. Then and with the passage of time, many voters questioned whether Gore should have—could have—fought harder over the final outcome. The difference was a mere 537 votes, a precise result that could be traced to a hand recount and—I know this is still triggering for many—hanging chads.
But you can read in Gore’s concession speech, after serving eight years as the Vice President of the United States alongside President Bill Clinton, that he revered democracy, the peaceful transfer of power and the fundamental duty of a leader to seek greater unity.
From today’s perspective, just two decades later, his words sound like they emanate from a long-lost world where honor and decency still defined the public sphere: “I say to President-elect Bush that what remains of partisan rancor must now be put aside, and may God bless his stewardship of this country.“ He referenced the words of Sen. Stephen Douglas after he lost to Abraham Lincoln in 1860: “Partisan feeling must yield to patriotism. I’m with you, Mr. President.” Gore went on:
“Let there be no doubt, while I strongly disagree with the court's decision, I accept it. I accept the finality of this outcome, which will be ratified next Monday in the Electoral College. And tonight, for the sake of our unity as a people and the strength of our democracy, I offer my concession.
I also accept my responsibility, which I will discharge unconditionally, to honor the new president elect and do everything possible to help him bring Americans together in fulfillment of the great vision that our Declaration of Independence defines and that our Constitution affirms and defends…
Other disputes have dragged on for weeks before reaching resolution. And each time, both the victor and the vanquished have accepted the result peacefully and in the spirit of reconciliation. So let it be with us.
I know that many of my supporters are disappointed. I am, too. But our disappointment must be overcome by our love of country.
And I say to our fellow members of the world community, let no one see this contest as a sign of American weakness. The strength of American democracy is shown most clearly through the difficulties it can overcome.”
Until these last four years, Richard Nixon has represented the most egregious example of corruption and criminality, and a sore loser. But cast your mind back to November 9, 1960, the night after his heated and controversial battle with John F. Kennedy. His concession speech also reveals remarkable respect (perhaps representing his recognition that the day would come when he, just 47 then, could run again):
“I want to say that one of the great features of America is that we have political contests. That they are very hard fought, as this one was hard fought, and once the decision is made we unite behind the man who is elected…
I do want to say that having been to all of the 50 states of this nation since the nominating convention in Chicago, having seen the American people, seen them by the hundreds of thousands and perhaps the millions, in the towns and cities of America, that I have great faith about the future of this country. I have great faith that our people, Republicans, Democrats alike, will unite behind our next President…in seeing that America does meet the challenge which destiny has placed upon us.”
I won’t recount the words of Donald Trump. We all know how far his refusal to concede defeat has taken the country toward the destruction of democracy. That most Republicans doubt the outcome of the election and believe Trump is the “true president” demonstrates how powerful a lie of election fraud repeated over and over can be.
I’d like to say that the time will come when we can put this destructive behavior behind us. But much like the consequence of a child who grows up in an erratic, unstable home, real stability is lost; the wound can never be fully fixed. All that can be counted on is thoughtful people acting diligently to repair what’s broken and shine a light on the inspirational examples and positive values that can motivate the best among us to expand the majority committed to democracy and make a version of healing possible.
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Thank you for shining this light. I tend to forget what I'm searching for in the dark.
I can't imagine what our country will look like if the GOP is successful in stealing the next election. This is looking increasingly likely.