The Logic of My Cold Dead Hands

The recent mass shooting including the murder of six people in Tucson Arizona would have grabbed mass media attention had the victims not included a U.S. Representative, a child, and a Federal Judge. That said, the range of media commentary and self-reference (often without valuable introspection) would likely not have been so great had the victims been migrant workers. Commentaries have appeared with regards to the vehemence of political rhetoric, media bias, and of course gun control.

Venting on the failings of people in positions of social responsibility is not my strong suit (though that has not kept me from trying from time to time), but I have been on occasion known to use logic decently well. As the debate over the second amendment again rises to the forefront of the national stage, there is an opportunity to apply logic, that oft neglected capacity, to the political discourse. This argument does not directly support one side or the other of the gun issue, but rather says that the debate is misplaced. Beyond the federal government making sure that every person has the right to bear some kind of arm, it is not a federal issue. The state or local governments should sort out the details.

First to the logic, and please forgive the simplicity with which this is put forth, but it allows for clarity in analysis. The argument is:

1. The second amendment to the Constitution states that we have the right to bear arms. It does not specify beyond the word 'arms.' It does not say 'some arms' nor 'all arms.'
2. If some arms are banned legally, then it would follow that the second amendment does not guarantee the right to bear all arms, but at least some arms.
3. Some arms are legally banned, such as nuclear arms, therefore the second amendment guarantees the right to bear some, but not all arms.
4. Nowhere in the Constitution does it say that one branch or another of the Federal Government (including the Supreme Court) has the power to specify which types of arms are protected under the second amendment and which are not.
5. The tenth amendment to the Constitution says that the powers not delegated to the federal government are reserved to the states or the people.
6. Because the power to determine what sorts of arms are permitted and what sorts are not is not delegated to the federal government at any point in the constitution, that power rests at the state or local level.

In more plain English, if we accept that individuals should not be allowed to own nuclear weapons, a type of arm, then some arms can be restricted as long as some other arms are protected. But the Constitution itself provides no more specific guidance as to what can be allowed or disallowed. It says that any issue not specified in the articles and amendments laid out should be left up to the states to decide. Therefore, as specific arms are never detailed in the Constitution, it must be left up to the states to decide whether they wish to allow automatic weapons, tasers, swords, or lead pipes and candlesticks. The debate should not be on the national stage, but on fifty or more state and district stages. The federal government, beyond guaranteeing that the right to bear some arms is protected, should not be involved.

A second point is more of a supporting practicality than an argument in itself. It is simply to say that given the difference of lifestyle and prevailing opinion in the diverse locations across the nation, it makes more sense to have state governments debating what arms are to be allowed than having a federal decision. Of course someone living on a ranch in Nevada will have a different take than someone living in Washington D.C. It makes sense that they should be allowed to regulate their right to bear arms differently. This means if the people of one state vote overwhelmingly to allow unregistered automatic weapons, then they should be allowed in that state. Similarly, if the people of another state or district vote to disallow handguns, then that should be upheld in that region so long as the region specifies what type of arms are allowed (halberds, perhaps?). It would follow that if a case went to the Supreme Court, they would uphold the local decision so long as there were provisions as to what sort of arms were allowed. If the local decision were an outright ban on all arms, then it would have to be struck down.

In the recent case of McDonald v. Chicago it was ruled that the fourteenth amendment protected an individual’s right to bear arms, unhindered by state or local intervention. That would be true, or logically valid, if the Federal Government had the power to determine what arms a person can bear. But if we apply logic to the premises given in the Constitution, the Federal Government does not. That power should belong to the state and local governments in the first place. The only place the Supreme Court would have a place in overturning a local decision would be if no arms were stipulated to be permitted, as that would violate a person’s right to bear arms.

A Historic Day

On August 27, 2010, the new constitution of the Republic of Kenya was officially promulgated. The word ‘promulgate’ comes from the Latin mulgere, meaning to milk, but the constitution was not being milked out to the people. It was instead officially signed into law. In Nairobi the military paraded, and thousands of people gathered to watch and celebrate the event in Uhuru Park.

Omar al-Bashir, the President of Sudan, was a prominent figure at the ceremony. He is also wanted by the International Criminal Court for crimes against humanity including the genocide in Darfur. This put the new Kenya, a signatory to the International Criminal Court, in a somewhat awkward position on its first day. By international law, they should arrest President al-Bashir and deliver him to The Hague. Practically speaking, things are not quite so cut and dry. Kenya and Sudan share a small section of historically disputed border. The Sudan is known for its disappointment at neither being the mouth nor the source of the Nile, and for its widespread AK-47s.

It is likely that the arrest of your president by your neighbor on a celebratory cross border visit would not go over very well. From Kenya’s position, do you risk war with your neighbor to assuage a western-dominated body with limited power of enforcement? On the other hand, if the western powers decide to make a big deal over this, it could mean actual repercussions in the terms of U.N. sanctions. But what is the likelihood of the U.N. passing sanctions on one of the few African nations that is taking steps in the direction that the U.N. supports? And have the western powers done anything substantial about the crisis in Darfur for that matter? Al-Bashir is still in charge, and the crisis continues. There will certainly be some strong talk, but that is small potatoes compared to the act of arresting your neighbor’s president. He may be a terrible guy, but no one becomes president without someone thinking he is great, even if it is just his militant cronies. Those cronies seem more likely to make real trouble for Kenya than does the U.N.

Probably those in charge will blame the situation and the ensuing international hullaballoo on some poor official who will get fired. They could also blame it all on al-Bashir himself, who can be written off as unpredictable and defiant. The President of the semi-autonomous Southern Sudan was invited; al-Bashir came instead. What can you do? Some might say you can arrest him, but they are not seeing the big picture. It is better to do nothing and blame someone else. Alternatively they could state that they did not arrest al-Bashir because it was not in their best interests, but that kind of plain talk is not commonplace in any political sphere, west, east, or south.

Al-Bashir’s visit could be viewed in two ways. First it could show Kenya as not quite in the place where it strives to be. The visit represents a blunder of official incompetence, or the acceptance of an immoral regime, neither of which gets high marks. Alternatively, it could show that Kenya is in fact joining the group of leading nations. Taking a cue from countries like the United States and China, Kenya too can ignore international law when it so chooses, because no one will do anything about it if you are big enough to count.

The lasting impact of the day will be the effect of the new constitution on Kenya, and the country taking another step in becoming a leader among African nations. The Omar al-Bashir visit, despite its headline appeal at the moment, will fade into the footnotes of history. Kenya steps into a new position. The constitution serves as a promise to its people to develop justly and fairly, to eschew corruption and nepotism, and to ensure the rights of all.

My snarky remarks and the incidence of international blunders aside, the day marks a new beginning. I confess to having felt some emotion manifest itself in my chest when I saw pieces of the ceremony on the television at the restaurant where I was eating lunch. Kenya’s constitution had absolutely nothing to do with me, and yet I felt something. Had I seen the event on American news, I could write my reaction off to the formulaic and contrived media coverage pushing the right buttons on my sappy side. Instead I saw the Kenyan media coverage, not quite so polished, nor quite so false. This leads me to think that what I felt was something more. I believe that whether or not the constitution lives up to its promise, it was the effort and support of the promise itself that inspired my reaction. I felt a sense of humanity rising above its own failings, pushing itself beyond its instincts for personal preservation, looking towards a brighter future. Despite my disassociation with the specifics of this incidence, I am a part of that humanity. I saw us rising. Some part of me, beneath my affinity for cynical humor and my affectations of having seen this wheel turn round before felt a moment of hope and joy in that promise.

Beliefs are strange things. We can define them and put them into jars to help us sleep at night. We can boil them down to quick phrases to break out in conversation. We can claim we know our own front to back. We can so easily stop questioning them, or get so wrapped up in our everyday lives that we forget what we believe in the first place. On Friday, August 27, 2010, I remembered something that I believe. It had as little or as much to do with the constitution of Kenya as any other specific element of our humanity, other than that the constitution was what set of the thought in my mind. I remembered that underneath all of the day to day jumble, beneath the mess of pragmatic decisions and regular necessities, it is my ideals of peace and justice that give the rest of it purpose. The promulgation of Kenya’s constitution reminded me that in my own life, there is more to strive for than my own needs, more to defend than my property, more to do than poke fun at the failings of mankind, and nothing more essential than my humanity.