Category: Impeachment

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The Blount Case and Congressional Precedent

         Today I want to return to a subject mentioned in a prior post relating to the 1799 impeachment trial of former Senator William Blount for acts committed prior to his expulsion by the Senate. Blount’s offenses, though not directly connected to his service in the Senate, were serious. Blount concocted a scheme to get himself out of financial difficulties by starting a war in which Indians and frontiersmen would attack Spanish Florida and Louisiana for the purpose of transferring those territories to Great Britain. A little light treason, as they might say on Arrested Development.

         Nonetheless, Blount’s impeachment was dismissed after the Senate, by a relatively close vote of 14-11, decided that it “ought not to hold jurisdiction of the said impeachment.” The Senate’s deliberations were secret and its order of dismissal did not specify why it had reached this decision. However, the conventional view or interpretation (as I will refer to it herein) is that the Senate was persuaded by Blount’s defense that senators are not “civil officers of the United States” and therefore not subject to impeachment.

         This conventional view has been challenged in modern times, most prominently by Professor Buckner Melton, a leading scholar of the Blount case. Professor Melton argues that because there were three different jurisdictional arguments made by Blount’s defense, it cannot be assumed that the Senate acted because of the “officer of the United States” issue:

Given all the possibilities the arguments had raised, the silence of the motion to dismiss as to the specific jurisdictional reasons for the dismissal is crucial. Given that silence, the dismissal cannot be taken clearly to mean that Senators aren’t civil officers or that they aren’t subject to impeachment. It may mean that; it may not. We simply don’t know.

Buckner F. Melton, Jr., Let Me Be Blunt: In Blount, the Senate Never Said that Senators Aren’t Impeachable, 33 Quinnipiac L. Rev. 33, 38 (2014). He argues that “nowhere in the Blount proceedings did the Senate establish any rule or precedent that Senators cannot be impeached.” Id. at 36.

         At the outset we should distinguish among three potential reasons why the decision in the Blount case might be important. The first is that as a founding era decision of the Senate, it could shed direct light on the original meaning of the Constitution. See, e.g., Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U.S. 783 (1983) (upholding legislative prayer as consistent with the First Amendment in large part based on congressional practice dating  back to the First Congress); id. at 790 (“In this context, historical evidence sheds light not only on what the draftsmen intended the Establishment Clause to mean, but also on how they thought that Clause applied to the practice authorized by the First Congress—their actions reveal their intent.”). For this purpose the weight given to the Blount decision might depend not only on the closeness of the vote, but also on who (i.e., framers and/or ratifiers) voted each way.

         A second and distinct reason for the Blount case’s potential significance is that signified by the conventional view, namely that the case constitutes an authoritative congressional precedent for the proposition that senators (and by extension members of the House) are not impeachable “civil officers of the United States.” Such precedents are recognized both by the courts and Congress, though it is fair to say that the courts have been ambivalent about the weight to give them. See, e.g., Arizona State Legislature v. Arizona Independent Redistricting Comm’n, 576 U.S. 787, 817-19 (2015) (citing favorable congressional precedent while suggesting that a contrary, but divided, precedent should not be relied upon due to likely political motives underlying it); id. at 824-25, 837-39 (Roberts, C.J., dissenting) (accusing majority of ignoring the controlling congressional precedent); Powell v. McCormack, 395 U.S. 486, 546-47 & n.85 (1969) (casting doubt on the value of congressional precedent, apart from its utility in illuminating the intent of the framers). On the other hand, Congress, the most important constitutional actor with regard to impeachment, tends to take its own precedents rather seriously. And as discussed further below, the Blount case (and the interpretation which followed it) should be understood as a particularly significant type of congressional precedent, one which satisfies the criteria for “constitutional liquidation” (a term which is not as ominous as it sounds).

         The third reason why the Blount case may be considered important, and the one which has given the case some attention in recent months, relates to the interpretation of section 3 of the 14th amendment. As we have discussed previously, the Blount case helps to explain why the framers of section 3 thought it necessary, or at least prudent, to separately enumerate senators and representatives, rather than assuming they would be covered by the general categories of “officer of the United States” and “office . . . under the United States.” It should be noted that the Blount case’s relevance here does not necessarily depend on its precedential status; what matters for the section 3 issue is what the framers of the 14thamendment thought the Blount case stood for, not whether their view was correct. Even those who question the Blount case’s precedential status, such as Professor Lederman, acknowledge that there was “ongoing debate and uncertainty” at the time of the 14th amendment’s framing about whether members of Congress were officers of the United States, which could explain the decision to separately enumerate members out of an abundance of caution.

         Our subject today, however, is only the second of these three reasons—the precedential status and effect of the Blount case apart from any bearing it might have on original meaning. I will endeavor to show, contra Professors Melton, Lederman and others, that the conventional view of the Blount case is in fact the correct one.      Continue reading “The Blount Case and Congressional Precedent”

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Two Lees, One Jackson, and Some Stonewalling

During the confirmation hearings for Judge (soon to be Justice) Ketanji Brown Jackson, she answered written questions for the record from a number of senators, including Senator Mike Lee. One of Senator Lee’s questions (hat tip: Ira Goldman) struck me as odd:

In Committee on the Judiciary v. McGahn, you took an extremely broad view of standing that all but ignored the previous elements of standing that you clung to in Federal Forest Resource Coalition (individualized injury). Setting aside the merits of the underlying controversy, your opinion never once mentions the phrase “political question.” Isn’t a case where the legislative branch is suing the executive branch a quintessential political question?

One problem with this question is that it was based on a false premise—as she pointed out in her answer, Jackson’s opinion in McGahn did in fact (more than once) use the phrase “political question” and it did so in the context of explaining why the political question doctrine was inapplicable to the case before her.  See, e.g., Comm. on the Judiciary v. McGahn, 415 F. Supp.3d 148, 178 (D.D.C. 2019) (“[T]he Supreme Court has specifically confirmed that not all legal claims that impact the political branches are properly deemed non-justiciable political questions.”).

To be sure, Jackson’s discussion of this issue was somewhat in passing. Her primary point was that the Justice Department’s legal arguments on standing and separation of powers sounded like attempts to evoke the political question doctrine without grappling with well-established limits on that doctrine. See id. at 177-78. But because the Justice Department (representing McGahn) did not actually assert that the political question doctrine applied, the judge presumably thought it unnecessary to discuss the doctrine in depth. Perhaps Lee should ask the Justice Department why it did not think McGahn presented a “quintessential political question.”

I think I can save him the trouble, though. There was a time when legal scholars (to the extent they thought about the issue) very likely would have agreed with the sentiment expressed in Lee’s question. As one noted constitutional expert wrote long ago: “In 1958, when the reach of the political question doctrine was far broader than it is today, no lesser an authority than Judge Learned Hand expressed the view that such a dispute [over a congressional subpoena] between two branches of government was a clear example of a nonjusticiable constitutional question.” Rex E. Lee, Executive Privilege, Congressional Subpoena Power, and Judicial Review: Three Branches, Three Powers, and Some Relationships, 1978 B.Y.U. L. Rev. 231, 266 (1978). For the last 60 years, though, the law has rejected such a broad view of political questions. Continue reading “Two Lees, One Jackson, and Some Stonewalling”

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What Would Xena Do? A Conscientious Senator Navigates the Impeachment Trial.

As you know, on February 9 the Senate voted 56-44 to proceed with the second impeachment trial of Donald Trump, finding that the former president “is subject to the jurisdiction of a court of impeachment for acts committed while President of the United States, notwithstanding the expiration of his term in that office.” This allows the trial to proceed, although some argue that there is no reason to continue since it is clear there cannot be enough votes to convict. After all, if a senator has concluded that there is no jurisdiction over the defendant, she logically cannot convict (or so it is argued).

The same issue arose in the 1876 trial of former secretary of war William Belknap, who resigned from office just hours before the House impeached him for corruption. The Senate then debated whether it had jurisdiction to try the articles of impeachment against “William W. Belknap, late Secretary of War.” By a vote of 37-29, almost exactly the same percentage breakdown as in Tuesday’s vote in the Trump trial (by my calculation the Belknap majority was .00060606 larger), the Senate voted in favor of jurisdiction. See Jonathan Turley, Senate Trials and Factional Disputes: Impeachment as a Madisonian Device, 49 Duke L. J. 1, 55 (1999).

Belknap’s lawyers then argued that the trial should not proceed. They contended the jurisdictional vote showed the respondent had been “substantially acquitted” because more than one-third of the Senate had by their votes “declared and affirmed their opinion to be that said plea of said respondent . . . was sufficient in law to prevent the Senate . . . from taking further cognizance of said articles of impeachment.” 3 Hinds’ Precedents §2461. The Senate, however, rejected this motion to dismiss and proceeded to conduct a lengthy trial (which nonetheless resulted in Belknap’s acquittal almost entirely based on the jurisdictional issue).

There are two reason why the Senate, as Professor Turley put it, “wisely rejected” Belknap’s effort to stop the trial. See Turley, 49 Duke L. J. at 55 n.240. First, even if Belknap’s acquittal were inevitable, there is value in conducting an impeachment trial that the Senate has determined it has the constitutional authority to conduct. As House manager George Hoar (later a prominent senator) argued in the Belknap case, holding a trial has value in itself, allowing for the airing of charges by “any responsible accuser” and the conduct of a “judicial trial” or “inquest” with a “process for the discovery of concealed evidence.” See Thomas Berry, Late Impeachment: An In-Depth Account of the Arguments at the Belknap Trial (Part IV) (Feb. 7, 2021). An impeachment trial can demonstrate the guilt or innocence of the accused, expose official misconduct, and serve as an affirmation of the standards of conduct expected for those entrusted with public office. See Turley, 49 Duke L. J. at 56 (explaining that “a trial of Belknap was needed as a corrective political measure” and “[r]egardless of outcome, the Belknap trial addressed the underlying conduct and affirmed core principles at a time of diminishing faith in government”).

Second, it is not inevitable (at least in theory) that a senator who votes against jurisdiction will also vote for acquittal. To see why, let us look at the matter from the perspective of our hypothetical conscientious senator, Xena. Senator Xena has sworn to do impartial justice in the impeachment trial of former president Trump and that is what she intends to do. Thus, she will approach the question of whether the Senate has jurisdiction to try a former president without fear or favor, uninfluenced by any constitutionally irrelevant considerations.

You may believe that such a senator could reach only one result, but most scholars who have studied the question (particularly those who did so before January 6) would acknowledge that it is, as Professor Kalt observed in his 2001 article, a “close and unsettled question.” I have made clear my view (which even Senator Cruz now shares) that the stronger argument favors late impeachment, but for purposes of this exercise we will assume Xena reaches a different conclusion. Continue reading “What Would Xena Do? A Conscientious Senator Navigates the Impeachment Trial.”

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Late Impeachments, Senate Resolution 16, and Some Relationships

Writing in the Wall Street Journal Sunday, Chuck Cooper argues that the Constitution permits late impeachments, i.e., the impeachment and trial of former officials who are accused of committing high crimes or misdemeanors while in office. Cooper acknowledges that forty-five Republican senators appear to have taken a different view by voting in favor of Senator Rand Paul’s point of order challenging the constitutionality of former President Trump’s impeachment trial, but he explains that “scholarship on this question has matured substantially since that vote.”

This remark occasioned some Twitter snark (o.k., it was from me) seeing as how the vote took place on January 26, which doesn’t leave much time for scholarship to have “matured.” It was pointed out to me that at least one useful piece of scholarship has emerged in that time, namely Thomas Berry’s four-part series on the question of late impeachment in the Belknap case. (Berry does not take a position on the issue, but very helpfully summarizes the relevant arguments on both sides).

For the most part, though, what has happened is that scholars have come forward to take positions for or against (mostly for) late impeachments, without necessarily adding to the actual scholarship on this issue. Having ten law professors or prominent lawyers make the same argument does not really make it any stronger, particularly when made in the context of a heated political dispute. Nonetheless, it can be important for senators who are looking for guidance or cover.

Republican senators (who are the main audience here) are naturally going to gravitate toward experts who are conservative/originalist, prominent constitutional lawyers, and/or well-known to them and their colleagues. Cooper qualifies on all of these counts. He is a highly prominent and successful constitutional litigator, and he has strong ties to Senate Republicans. (For example, Ted Cruz was one of the first associates Cooper hired when he formed his own law firm back in the 1990s.)

Of course, senators like Cruz, Josh Hawley and Mike Lee consider themselves to be fully qualified to make their own constitutional judgments, but it will be hard for them to deny that the issue of late impeachments is, at the very least, a close question when so many prominent conservative/libertarian legal scholars have come down in pro-late impeachment camp. These scholars include former federal judge Michael McConnell, who argues that the Constitution allows former officials to be tried in the Senate so long as they were impeached while in office, as well as many others (Andrew McCarthy, Ramesh Ponnuru, Dan McLaughlin, Keith Whittington, Jonathan Adler, Michael Stokes Paulsen, Ilya Somin and Steven Calabresi, to name a few), who argue for the constitutionality of late impeachments generally.

Of course, there are legal experts who have come out against late impeachments. Perhaps the most prominent is Phillip Bobbitt, a well-known constitutional scholar (and, it should be noted, someone who is not an originalist and is not associated with Trump or conservative politics). Another is J. Michael  Luttig, a well-respected conservative former judge (for whom, incidentally, Cruz clerked). Conservative legal scholars John Yoo and Robert Delahunty have also written a rather overstated originalist argument against the constitutionality of late impeachments. Jonathan Turley, who had written favorably of late impeachments in 1999, has now moved to a position of neutral, leaning against. And two characters from Trump’s last impeachment, Alan Dershowitz and John Bolton, have weighed in against late impeachments. There undoubtedly are other legal experts (however broadly that term is construed) who have expressed similar views, though the ranks are surely much thinner than the pro-late impeachment side.

As noted, numbers alone do not establish who is correct. Moreover, Republican senators who are inclined to oppose impeachment may discount the views of the pro-late impeachment experts on the grounds that they have been influenced by the atrocious nature of Trump’s offense and that (as mentioned in my last post) the facts of the case seem like they were dreamed up by a law professor to support late impeachment. Hard cases make bad law and all that.

Whether this is fair or not, it is worth specifically noting the views of those who have thought and written about this question prior to January 6. Whittington, McCarthy and Turley are in this category, and they all had favored late impeachment. As mentioned in my last post, in fact, while relatively few scholars had addressed themselves to this question even in passing, the ones who did seemed to overwhelmingly support the constitutionality of the practice. One important but partial exception is Justice Story, about whom more later.

To my knowledge, however, the only scholar who has truly looked at this issue in depth and outside the context of a particular controversy is Professor Brian Kalt. (Kalt specializes in odd constitutional issues, including the 25th amendment and late impeachments, and boy did he hit the jackpot with the Trump administration.) If you want an exhaustive and even-handed discussion of the arguments for and against late impeachment, you need to read Kalt’s 2001 article on the subject, in which he concludes that while the “question of late impeachability is close and unsettled,” the better view is that “Congress can pursue late impeachments, based on an analysis of the text, structure, historical underpinnings, and precedent of the Constitution’s impeachment provisions.”

All of which brings me to Senate Resolution 16, which is the brief resolution that the Senate adopted on January 26 in connection with “the article of impeachment against Donald John Trump, President of the United States.” That the resolution refers to Trump in this manner reflects only, I assume, the fact that the article of impeachment is addressed to Trump as president because, of course, Trump was indeed president at the time the House impeached him. Somewhat more interesting, though, is that the resolution states it was adopted “pursuant to rules III and IV fo the Rules and Practice When Sitting on Impeachment Trials,” which are the Senate’s standing rules on impeachment. Rule IV deals exclusively with presidential impeachments and provides that the chief justice shall preside. Unless the reference to Rule IV was a mistake or oversight, it seems that the Senate is still leaving open the possibility that this will be conducted as a presidential impeachment trial. Continue reading “Late Impeachments, Senate Resolution 16, and Some Relationships”

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Some Legal Questions About the Second Trump Impeachment Trial

The second impeachment of Donald Trump raises some significant legal issues, which I sketch out below. All I can say is that we could have avoided a lot of trouble if anyone ever listened to me.

Can the Senate Try a Former President? This is, of course, the most fundamental question. While Trump was president when the House impeached him (and still is for a few more hours), his term will have ended by the time the Senate trial begins. Trump and his supporters (as well as some legal scholars) argue that this precludes further proceedings because impeachment applies only to “[t]he President, Vice President and all civil Officers of the United States,” and Trump will no longer be any of these on January 20. Other legal scholars, such as Professors Keith Whittington and Steve Vladeck,  argue that the constitutional text does not expressly limit impeachment to current officeholders and the constitutional purpose, structure, history and precedent support “late impeachments,” that is, impeachments and/or trials of former officeholders for high crimes and misdemeanors relating to their time in office.

In the heat of the current moment it may be difficult to reach an objective answer to this question, which has long been debated in Congress and the legal academy. So it is helpful to review the past scholarship on this issue, which was written at a time when there were no immediate political stakes involved. CRS has a good summary of the arguments on both sides and notes that “[a]lthough the text is open to debate, it appears that most scholars who have closely examined the question have concluded that Congress has authority to extend the impeachment process to officials who are no longer in office.” Similarly, Professor Gerhardt has noted a “surprising consensus” among legal experts “that resignation does not necessarily preclude impeachment and disqualification.” Michael J. Gerhardt, The Federal Impeachment Process: A Constitutional and Historical Analysis 79 (1996). Professor Kalt’s 2001 article, likely the most comprehensive treatment of this subject, finds that while “late impeachability is a close and unsettled question,” the better view is that “Congress can pursue late impeachments, based on analysis of the text, structure, historical underpinnings, and precedents of the Constitution’s impeachment provisions.” Brian C. Kalt, The Constitutional Case for the Impeachability of Former Federal Officials: An Analysis of the Law, History, and Practice of Late Impeachment, at 3 (Oct. 24, 2001). And for what it’s worth I tend to agree. See Could Congress Impeach Judge Bybee?, Point of Order (Apr. 20, 2009) (“Although it is seldom worth Congress’s while to conduct an impeachment trial for a former official, this is a matter of prudence, not constitutional power.”).

It should be noted here that the facts of the current situation seem like they were dreamed up as a hypothetical to support late impeachments. Trump did not commit (or at least complete) the alleged impeachable offense until January 6, when there were barely two weeks remaining in his term. It would have been virtually impossible to impeach and convict within this time frame. Even if the trial had commenced while Trump was still president, it would be extremely difficult to complete before noon on January 20. Attempting to compress the trial within the available time would mean short changing the House managers and/or the defense in terms of presenting their cases, and would give the defense an incentive to delay as much as possible in order to run out the clock. It seems borderline absurd to read the Constitution as imposing such artificial limitations on a trial of the gravity and consequence described by Alexander Hamilton in Federalist No. 65, which can subject the offender “to a perpetual ostracism from the esteem and confidence, and honours and emoluments of his country.”

Furthermore, if there were ever presidential conduct which warranted the imposition of the constitutional penalty of disqualification from future office, it is that with which Trump is charged. Professor Chafetz has argued that the paradigmatic case of impeachable conduct is an effort to illegally use presidential power to entrench oneself in office. See Josh Chafetz, Impeachment and Assassination, 95 Minn. L. Rev. 347, 422 (2010). Trump’s (alleged) effort to overturn the election results by falsely claiming fraud, pressuring state election officials to change the results, and inciting a violent mob to disrupt the electoral vote count in Congress goes far beyond anything any president has been accused of in this regard. Yet under the anti-late impeachment theory, there would be no way of disqualifying a president who engaged in such behavior as a last-ditch effort to hold on to power. Trump would be free to seek the presidency in the future and use exactly the same tactics again. To interpret the Constitution to require this result makes very little sense.

Who Presides at the Impeachment Trial of a Former President?  The Constitution provides that “[w]hen the President is tried, the Chief Justice shall preside.” Does this requirement apply to the trial of a former president?

Professor Baude has a good analysis of this issue here. He points out that the last time there was an impeachment trial of a former official (ex-Secretary of War William Belknap in 1876) two arguments were made in favor of late impeachments. One is what we just discussed, namely that impeachable officials remain subject to impeachment and disqualification even after they leave office so long as the offense “relates back” to the office they held. The other is that anyone could be impeached, and that the Constitution’s reference to impeachable officials is only for the purpose of prescribing a particular punishment (removal) that must be imposed in such cases.

If the latter were correct, then presumably Trump could be impeached in his capacity as a private citizen and there would be no need for the chief justice to preside. However, the “relating back” theory is a far stronger argument and the basis of all of the scholarship discussed above. This does not necessarily mean that the chief justice must preside, but it tends to support that conclusion. The issue is murky, but in my view the appropriate course would be to ask the chief justice to preside.

From the standpoint of the House managers, this raises something of a tactical dilemma. If the chief justice does not preside, it creates the risk that Trump could later attack the verdict as improper or use the chief justice’s absence as evidence that the “relating back” theory is wrong. On the other hand, if the chief justice is asked to preside, there is some risk that he would decline (see below), which would undermine the House’s position. It might therefore be in the interest of the House managers not to request that the chief justice preside but also not object if the defense makes this request. That way if Trump does not object to a different presiding officer (whether it be the vice president or the president pro team), it will be difficult for him to attack the process at a later date.

Who Decides Who Presides? If the Senate decides, either on its own or at the request of one of the parties, to request the chief justice’s presence, is the chief justice obligated to preside? It seems to me that the answer is no. If the Constitution does not (in his view) require him to preside at the trial of a former president, it seems to me that Chief Justice Roberts would be within his rights to decline. He might believe that it is improper or unconstitutional for the chief justice to preside over an impeachment trial except in the specific instance (the trial of a sitting president) specified by the Constitution.

It is certainly possible that Roberts would not raise this issue sua sponte, but would only address it if one of the parties objected. It is also possible that he would defer to the Senate’s judgment on the matter even if one of the parties did object. It is not obvious to me, however, why the Senate’s judgment should control on an issue of what the chief justice’s responsibilities are.

It is unlikely, but not impossible, that Roberts could address the issue of whether a former official can be tried at all. In other words, he could decline to preside on the ground that a former official is not subject to impeachment, and therefore there is no trial at which he could constitutionally preside. It seems far more likely, however, that he would assume, without deciding, that a former official could be tried.

(In theory, Roberts could also decide to preside and then rule on a motion to dismiss for lack of jurisdiction. Based on how deferential to the Senate he was while presiding over Trump’s first impeachment trial, however, this seems even less likely.)

Can Trump Challenge the Trial in Court? It is extremely unlikely that Trump could convince any court to interfere with the Senate’s conduct of the trial while it is ongoing. Among other reasons, any attempt to sue or enjoin the Senate would be barred by the Speech or Debate Clause.

A different situation would be presented once Trump was convicted by the Senate. If Trump loses benefits (e.g., his pension), he could sue the United States or whatever official(s) are responsible for providing these benefits to former presidents. This was how former United States District Judge Walter Nixon challenged his impeachment (hat tip: Ira Goldman). Such a suit would not be barred by the Speech or Debate Clause.

Professor Vladeck argues, however, that judicial review of the Senate’s verdict would be precluded by the Supreme Court’s decision in Judge Nixon’s lawsuit, in which it held that his challenge to the procedures followed by the Senate in his impeachment trial constituted a nonjusticiable political question. Chief Justice Rehnquist’s opinion in that case emphasizes that the judiciary was intended to have no role in impeachments. See Nixon v. United States, 506 U.S. 224 (1993).

It is not at all clear, however, that the Nixon case governs the question whether former officeholders may be impeached or convicted. That is a straightforward legal question of the kind found to be justiciable in Powell v. McCormack, 395 U.S. 486 (1969), which held that the question of what “qualifications” were subject to the House’s power to judge the qualifications of its members was justiciable. Unlike the question of what constitutes a proper impeachment trial, which involves discretionary judgments lacking judicially discoverable and manageable standards, the issue of late impeachability presents a yes or no question susceptible of judicial resolution.

Would Trump’s Disqualification be Judicially Reviewable? Assuming that for some reason Trump did not or could not challenge the Senate’s verdict based on loss of pension or benefits, he could also seek to challenge his disqualification (assuming the Senate imposes disqualification) in court. Presumably such an issue would not be ripe for judicial review unless and until Trump sought to attain an office from which the disqualification purported to bar him.

Most likely, this would arise in the context of a 2024 presidential bid. If, for example, state officials refused to put Trump’s name on the ballot, either for the primary or general election, he could sue to obtain ballot access, arguing that his disqualification was invalid because the Senate lacked jurisdiction over him as a former president. This would present the same justiciability issue discussed above and, for the reasons indicated, I think the courts probably would review Trump’s claim on the merits.

In addition, Trump could argue that the Senate’s judgment of disqualification, even if valid, does not prevent him from holding the office of president because that office is not an “Office of honor, Trust or Profit under the United States” within the meaning of the Disqualification Clause. This, of course, is the Tillman/Blackman theory we have discussed many times (see, e.g., my last post) and it seems to me that proposition would be clearly justiciable since it merely involves interpreting the meaning of the constitutional disqualification that the Senate imposed.

It is, however, still very, very wrong.

 

 

 

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Does Section 3 of the Fourteenth Amendment Apply to the Presidency?

It will come as no surprise to readers of this blog that Professors Tillman and Blackman have written a controversial piece about the current troubles in which, among other things, they reiterate their view that the Constitution’s Disqualification Clause does not bar an impeached, removed and disqualified official from the presidency because that office does not constitute an “Office of honor, Trust or Profit” within the meaning of Article I, § 3, cl. 7. See Blackman & Tillman, Can President Trump be Impeached and Removed on Grounds of Incitement (Jan. 8, 2021) (“The Senate has no power to disqualify a defendant from holding elected federal positions, such as the presidency.”) (emphasis in original).

I will not bore you by restating the reasons why I think this view is very, very wrong. You can read them ad nauseam by following the links in my most recent post on the subject.

The same issue arises, however, in regard to another constitutional provision which, as far as I recall, I have not addressed before. Specifically, section 3 of the Fourteenth Amendment (an obscure provision which is enjoying its moment in the sun) provides:

No person shall be a Senator or Representative in Congress, or elector of President and Vice President, or hold any office, civil or military, under the United States, or under any State, who, having previously taken an oath, as a member of Congress, or as an officer of the United States, or as a member of any State legislature, or as an executive or judicial office of any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof. But Congress may by a vote of two-thirds of each House, remove such disability.

(emphasis added).

I should state at the outset that I am extremely skeptical that President Trump’s behavior, as atrocious and impeachable as it may be, constitutes “insurrection or rebellion” or other conduct covered by this provision. Assuming for the sake of argument that it is, however, the italicized language raises two questions. First, is the president “an officer of the United States” subject to the bar of section 3 if he engages in the proscribed conduct? Second, is the presidency an “office, civil or military, under the United States” which a covered officer is barred from holding?

I assume that Tillman and Blackman would say no to both questions, although I am not entirely sure. Their argument is that the meaning of “officer of the United States” and office “under the United States” as used in the original Constitution applies only to appointed, not elected, offices and therefore excludes the presidency (and vice presidency). Whether they would say that this meaning was understood by anyone as of the time the Fourteenth Amendment was drafted is less clear. As I have pointed out, the view they ascribe (based on highly ambiguous historical practice) to a few members of the founding generation seems to have vanished without a trace by 1834 at the very latest.

It is interesting nonetheless that the only example I have found anyone actually expressing the Tillman/Blackman view (prior to Professor Tillman himself) comes in the debate over section 3 in the Senate on June 13, 1866. During the debate over the draft constitutional language, the following colloquy occurred:

Mr. Johnson. But this amendment does not go far enough. I suppose the framers of the amendment thought it was necessary to provide for such an exigency. I do not see but that any one of these gentlemen may be elected President or Vice President of the United States, and why did you omit to exclude them? I do not understand them to be excluded from the privilege of holding the two highest offices in the gift of the nation. No man is to be a Senator or Representative or an elector for President or Vice President–

39 Cong. Globe 2899 (1866) (emphasis added).

Here we have a U.S. senator suggesting that the disability imposed by section 3 would not exclude anyone from the “privilege of holding the two highest offices” in the land, even though it on its face applies to “any office, civil or military, under the United States.” Admittedly, its just one man’s opinion, but to my knowledge it is closer than anyone else (pre-Tillman) has ever come to expressly endorsing the Tillman/Blackman view of “office under the United States.”

Naturally a fierce debate ensued:

Mr. Morrill. Let me call the Senator’s attention to the words “or hold any office, civil or military, under the United States.”

Mr. Johnson. Perhaps I am wrong as to the exclusion from the Presidency; no doubt I am; but I was misled by noticing the specific exclusion in the case of Senators and Representatives.

39 Cong. Globe 2899 (1866).

Ok, “oops, I was wrong” might not qualify as a fierce debate, but it is as much of a debate as you will find anywhere on this issue between 1787 and 2008 or so. No doubt if the 39th Congress had any doubt that the language flagged by Senator Johnson was ambiguous, it would have been clarified. After all, there is no chance that the framers of the Fourteenth Amendment intended to prevent former rebels from serving as presidential electors but not as the president. Of course, the same can be said of the framers of the Constitution. Clearly it could not have been intended that a president be impeached, removed from office, and disqualified from serving in any federal office other than the presidency. Similarly, it could not have been intended that presidents be able to receive foreign emoluments or titles of nobility.

The question of whether the president or vice-president is an “officer of the United States” within the meaning of section 3 is somewhat closer. As was pointed out during the same Senate debate, section 3’s language regarding the individuals whose violation of oath triggers the disability tracks the Constitution’s Oath Clause in Article VI, which requires that “all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution.”

There is a plausible structural argument that the term “officer of the United States” as used in Article II refers to individuals appointed and commissioned by the president, which would exclude the vice president and the president himself. Whether or not this is correct, it does not follow that the phrase used elsewhere in the Constitution is necessarily so limited. For example, while it is true that the president’s oath is separately provided for in Article II, the vice president’s is not; therefore, interpreting Article VI’s reference to “executive . . . Officers . . . of the United States” as excluding the president and vice president would mean the nowhere in the Constitution is the vice president’s oath provided for, a result that Tillman finds a good deal more plausible that do I. And while Tillman’s view of the Oath Clause has some support from a 1974 OLC memorandum written (or at least signed) by Assistant Attorney General Antonin Scalia, as I explain here that memo’s reasoning leaves much to be desired.

It also seems unlikely that the framers of section 3 would have deliberately omitted the president and vice president from the list of officials prohibited from engaging in insurrection and rebellion, although this conclusion seems more reasonable if one assumes their focus was entirely on the immediate past rebellion rather than potential future ones. In short, the argument that the president is not an “officer of the United States” within the meaning of section 3 seems to me to be quite weak, but not as weak as the claim that he holds no “office under the United States” under section 3 or the Disqualification Clause.

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A Negotiated Resolution for the Second Article of Impeachment

Professor Jonathan Turley has been extremely critical of the second article of impeachment against President Trump. Turley claims that the charge of obstruction of Congress is improper because the House failed to pursue judicial relief for the president’s failure to comply with its subpoenas and requests for information. He asserts that by not giving the White House an opportunity to challenge subpoenas the House “effectively made the seeking of judicial review a ‘high crime and misdemeanor.'”

I think Turley is wrong for a number of reasons, but whether he is right or wrong is not so important at this juncture. My concern is that the Senate will acquit the president on the obstruction of Congress charge without first hearing from witnesses or obtaining documents that were withheld from the House. This action would be (reasonably) construed as standing for the proposition that the president can withhold any information he pleases from Congress, regardless of the reason or whether any privilege is invoked.

Here Turley has a suggestion which is worth considering. (I made a similar suggestion independently so I will share the blame.) Senators could offer a motion to dismiss the second article on the condition that the White House makes available the witnesses and documents the Senate needs to properly evaluate the first article, abuse of power. In essence, this would allow the president to purge his contempt by agreeing to provide the disputed information, something that Congress routinely allows contumacious witnesses to do.

On one point I am not in agreement with Turley, however. He suggests that the White House should still have the opportunity to litigate privilege claims. This is impractical and improper. Assuming the White House is allowed to raise privilege claims as to specific questions or documents, going to a federal district judge for a decision is (1) inconsistent with the constitutional design, which gives the Senate the sole power to try impeachments; (2) totally impractical (is the Senate going to wait while each objection is litigated to the Supreme Court?); and (3) downright silly in a presidential impeachment trial. You have the (expletive deleted) chief justice sitting right there! Let him rule.

This solution has something for everyone. The president and his defenders get half of the charges dismissed. The House managers get the evidence they have demanded. The Senate majority leader gets an assurance the trial will not drag on indefinitely. There is at least a measure of transparency and accountability for the president’s misconduct. And the House and Senate preserve at least a measure of their authority and dignity.

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Who Decides When the Chief Justice Presides?

A few days ago I tweeted the following in regard to the debate over whether President Trump has actually been impeached:

There is a simple way to resolve this. @senatemajldr should send a note to the Chief Justice, notifying him of the House vote. If the CJ shows up at the Senate the next day, Trump is impeached. If not, six more weeks of winter.

This was intended to be a joke. (In case you were wondering whether I know the difference between the chief justice and a groundhog). On second thought, though, it raises a couple of interesting points. (Well, I think they’re interesting. You can decide for yourself.).

First, while the debate over whether Trump has been impeached is largely rhetorical, there is a substantive constitutional question underlying it. Has the House completed the actions required to allow the Senate to commence an impeachment trial? Or is it necessary for the House to take additional steps (such as providing formal notice, appointing managers, or exhibiting the articles of impeachment) before the Senate may constitutionally exercise the power to try impeachments?

I emphasize the question of constitutional power, as distinct from the operation of the Senate’s impeachment rules, which themselves may require the House to provide formal notice before a trial may begin. These rules are subject to amendment or reinterpretation by the Senate, but there is also a constitutional limitation on the Senate’s authority which is beyond the power of that body to change. The Constitution implicitly forbids the Senate from trying an impeachment until its jurisdiction has been invoked by action of the House. Cf. Jefferson’s Manual Sec. LIII (“The Lords can not impeach any to themselves, nor join in the accusation, because they are the judges.). The question is whether the House’s impeachment vote is sufficient as a constitutional matter to trigger the Senate’s jurisdiction.

This question is not answered by the fact that the Constitution gives the House the sole power of impeachment and the Senate the sole power to try impeachments. Each house has exclusive authority to determine how to exercise its own power, but this does not mean it has the exclusive authority to determine when the power exists in the first place (or what the courts would call “jurisdiction to determine jurisdiction”). Such an issue would arise if the House attempted to impeach or the Senate attempted to try a person who claimed not to be subject to the impeachment power at all (e.g., a private citizen). It similarly arises if there is a dispute whether an individual has been impeached such that the Senate’s power to try the impeachment is invoked.

Let’s imagine then in the current situation that the Senate attempts to act upon the House’s impeachment of President Trump. The House could take the position that the Senate has not yet acquired jurisdiction and lacks the power to act. For the reasons noted above, this dispute would be distinguishable from  questions relating to the Senate’s authority to determine how to “try” an impeachment, which were found to be nonjusticiable by the Supreme Court. See Nixon v. United States, 506 U.S. 224 (1993). Nonetheless, it is unlikely that a court could or would arbitrate such a dispute between the houses.

This, however, is where the second interesting point arises. The Senate cannot exercise its power to try this impeachment without summoning the chief justice to preside. See Nixon, 506 U.S. at 230 (noting there are “three very specific requirements that the Constitution does impose on the Senate when trying impeachments: The Members must be under oath, a two-thirds vote is required to convict, and the Chief Justice presides when the President is tried.”). If the Senate’s jurisdiction is in controversy, the House could ask the chief justice not to appear. Arguably, the chief justice would have to resolve the jurisdictional question before appearing in the Senate.

It is perhaps more likely that the chief justice would conclude that this motion should be presented to him in his capacity as presiding officer (e.g., after he has appeared and taken the oath). Suppose then that the chief justice, as presiding officer, decides that the Senate lacks jurisdiction. Should this ruling be appealable to the Senate? If the Senate overrules the chief justice, is he obligated to preside over a trial he believes to be constitutionally invalid? These questions have no clear answer and, as far as I know, there is no precedent to provide guidance.

These questions illustrate the difficulty the Senate would face if it attempted to unilaterally dismiss the impeachment (for want of prosecution or for any other reason) without the chief justice’s acquiescence. Notwithstanding the Justice Department’s suggestion to the contrary, the chief justice’s role in an impeachment trial is far more than merely administrative.

One might say that confusing the chief justice with a parliamentarian is almost as bad as confusing him with a groundhog. (Ok, that would be an odd thing to say, but you get the point.).

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The Justice Department’s “Interesting” Comments on the Chief Justice’s Role in an Impeachment Trial

The Constitution mentions the chief justice for one purpose only, and apparently it is so he can serve as Charlie McCarthy to Liz McDonough’s Edgar Bergen. Or so one would understand from the Department of Justice’s brief in In re Application of the Committee on the Judiciary, United States House of Representatives, for an Order Authorizing the Release of Certain Grand Jury Materials, currently pending before the D.C. Circuit.

Continue reading “The Justice Department’s “Interesting” Comments on the Chief Justice’s Role in an Impeachment Trial”

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Impeachment and Disqualification

The proposed articles of impeachment against President Trump call not only for his removal from office, but for his “disqualification to hold and enjoy any office of honor, trust, or profit under the United States.” No doubt the drafters of these articles assume such disqualification would prevent Trump from ever again serving as president. Readers of this blog, however, are aware that this is no longer an uncontested proposition (see here, here, here, here, here, here, and, most recently, here for a few of our prior discussions of this issue).

While I am aware that the president’s conviction and removal, much less disqualification, remain unlikely events, if he were to be disqualified it would be extremely important that there be as much clarity as possible on this issue. I have little doubt that should the Senate disqualify Trump from future office, he would not hesitate to seize upon the argument that the presidency does not constitute an “office of honor, trust, or profit under the United States” within the meaning of the Disqualification Clause. Moreover, members of the House who will vote on articles of impeachment and members of the Senate who will presumably vote on conviction and removal, and possibly on disqualification as well, are entitled to know of the existence of this issue.

I therefore propose that before voting on articles of impeachment, the House consider and approve a resolution along the following lines: “Resolved, That in the considered judgment of this House, the Office of President of the United States of America is an Office of honor, Trust or Profit under the United States within the meaning of the Sixth Clause of the Third Section of the First Article of the Constitution of the United States.”