“Come forward, therefore, to our stairs.”
There we approached, and the first step was white marble, so polished and so clear that I was mirrored there as I appear in life.
The second step, made out of crumbling rock,
rough-textured, scorched, with cracks that ran across its length and width, was darker than deep purple.
The third, resting above more massively, appeared to me to be of porphyry, as flaming red as blood that spurts from veins.
And on this upper step, God’s angel— seated upon the threshold, which appeared to me to be of adamant— kept his feet planted.
Alighieri, Dante. Purgatorio (La Divina Commedia) (Kindle Locations 3634-3663). Random House Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
Each step allows the pilgrim Dante to continue on the path to purging his sins, and each step represents an essential element required to continue the path. Translator Michael Mandelbaum’s notes explain the process and the symbolism:
This first of the three steps corresponds to the first of the three parts of the sacrament of penance-confession— contrition of the heart. The clear polish of the marble reflects the sinner’s true image, so that he can recognize his sinfulness. The second, made out of dark crumbling rock, corresponds to the emotional upheaval that comes with confession by the lips, the second part of penance; and the third step of “porphyry, / as flaming red as blood that spurts from veins” corresponds to satisfaction by works, the third stage of penance. The bloodred color suggests both the blood Christ shed to redeem the sins of mankind and the zeal needed to shun future sins.
Id., Kindle Locations 24696-24701.
So what relation does a snippet of text from a long medieval poem have to do with whether to pursue the removal and disqualification process against Donald Trump? Bear with me.
These few lines from Dante’s masterpiece came to mind from reading and hearing opinions pro and con about pursuing the case against Trump for his role in the attack on the Capitol. I realized that much of my reaction and analysis of this issue stems from what I’d experienced hundreds of times in my decades as a lawyer involved in hundreds of criminal cases, from traffic tickets to serious felonies. And as you may know, most criminal cases that get beyond the preliminary stages are resolved by a guilty plea or a guilty verdict, either to the original charge or to a related charge. And what does a guilty plea entail? First, an admission by the defendant that he or she (but a lot more “he”) has in fact committed a crime. This often requires the defendant to describe the crime committed. And, in the hope of receiving a more favorable sentence--less of a fine, less probation time, less jail time, or even less prison time-- the defendant is given an opportunity, preferably in-person, to address the judge directly and express remorse for his actions and make assurances that any leniency will not be abused by further violations. The sentence passed by the court will often not only include a prescribed form of punishment (which is the prerogative of the state), but also some form of satisfaction or atonement. For instance, the payment of restitution (similar money damages in a civil case) to the victim of a crime who suffered a measurable monetary loss, or perhaps some form of community service. Sincerely expressed apologies to the Court and to victims also can play a role. There is all manner of variations on this outline according to the varying practice of each jurisdiction, but in general, this is how it works. (I’ve experienced this process in four different jurisdictions, Federal, Iowa, Illinois, and Maryland--as an attorney!)
I hadn't realized it before now, but all of these instances were variations on a theme described by Dante, who wrote from medieval Italy!
I’ve heard from a variety of sources--some highly partisan (Republicans) and some definitely not Trump supporters--that we should not pursue the impeachment process against Trump because it will continue and perhaps worsen partisan divisions (the primary Republican argument) or that we should immediately put Trump in the rearview mirror and concentrate on the future. In fact, it’s a post by a friend on Facebook that has led me to record these thoughts. My friend wrote:
No one is happier with the personnel change in our federal government . . . that took place today than I am. HOWEVER, it is time to stop the anti-DJT, et al, rhetoric and focus on working to ease the unrest he showed us is there. It is time to put the words peaceful, respectful dialogue into our political vocabulary and to understand that the answers to most issues are in the term, moderate, (versus far-left or far-right).
24. 58. What Plato calls an eristic discussion is one in which each party tries to prove that he was right and the other wrong.
24. 59. In a dialectical discussion you aim at showing that your own view is one with which your opponent really agrees, even if at one time he denied it; or conversely that it was yourself and not your opponent who began by denying a view with which you really agree.
24. 6. The essence of dialectical discussion is to discuss in the hope of finding that both parties to the discussion are right, and that this discovery puts an end to the debate. Where they ‘agree to differ’, as the saying is, there is nothing on which they have really agreed.
27. 92. In a dialectical system it is essential that the representatives of each opposing view should understand why the other view must be represented. If one fails to understand this, it ceases to be a party ‘and becomes a faction, that is, a combatant in an eristical process instead of a partner in a dialectical process.
28. 17. An ‘eristic’ (24. 58) political process can go on without discussion. Aiming as they do at victory, the parties to it may very well use force (20. 5) or attempts at force; for each tries to crush the rest, and this is best done not by discussion but by violence: that is, by civil war among the rulers.
28. 18. A ‘dialectical’ (24. 59) political process, aiming not at victory but at agreement, might certainly go on without discussion in words, if a language of gesture or other nonverbal language was once fairly established; but, as it is, verbal discussion is the only kind which men can extensively use for political purposes.
29. 52. Dialectic is not between contraries but between contradictories (24. 68). The process leading to agreement begins not from disagreement but from non-agreement.
29. 53. Non-agreement may be hardened into disagreement; in that case the stage is set for an eristic in which each party tries to vanquish the other; or, remaining mere non-agreement, it may set the stage for a dialectic in which each party tries to discover that the difference of view between them conceals a fundamental agreement.
29. 6. Granted that these ‘conflicts’ (non-agreements, not disagreements) are inevitable, how are they to be dealt with?
29. 61. There are two possibilities. They may be dealt with dialectically: that is by a process leading from non-agreement to agreement; or they may be dealt with eristically, that is, by hardening non-agreement into disagreement and settling the disagreement by a victory of one party over the other.
29. 62. To adopt the second alternative is to make war. To regard the second alternative as the only one available in such cases is to think of war as the only possible relation between bodies politic; to think that every body politic is permanently at war with every other.
29. 63. War is a state of mind. It does not consist in the actual employment of military force. It consists in believing that differences between bodies politic have to be settled by one giving way to the other and the second triumphing over the first.
Collingwood, R. G.. The New Leviathan. Read Books Ltd.. Kindle Edition.
In short, we can either attempt to work together or go to war. Of course, in some circumstances, “war” in the guise of an eristic argument may be justified. For instance, in a judicial setting, a trial is a forum where eristic arguments are the norm and the parties may be said to be involved in a “war of words.” But note that the law courts and legal process quite different from legislatures and the political process. The courts of law resolve disputes within parameters established by the Constitution (or “constitutions,” as each state has its own constitution) and the laws adopted by the legislature. Thus, fights are contained and constrained when they reach the courts. For instance, if the legislature passes--and the executive branch approves--a law against inciting a riot, that law will be enforced by the courts. The eristic element is constrained by the parameters of the law adopted. Thus, in this example, the issue isn’t whether one should be allowed to incite a riot, but whether a person intentionally did in fact incite a riot.
All this is to say that while we should seek agreement wherever we can, we will still have disputes and differences that entail argument and not simply efforts at accommodation.
Now to the orange elephant in the room--or more accurately, in Mar-a-Lago. I cannot agree more with President Biden (and my friend quoted above) about addressing our differences and healing our divisions. We can disagree about policies: the role and effectiveness of government, the most appropriate level of immigration to allow; the most appropriate form and level of taxation; the best way to address climate change; and so on. These policy issues, and about every other policy issue, appropriately give rise to differing opinions. Also, interests vary. Values vary. This is why a commitment to values of process is so crucial in a democracy, values such as a commitment to the peaceful resolution of conflicts and the peaceful transfer of power.
But where a serious allegation of wrong-doing against anyone, even a president, is based upon good-faith evidence that meets the standard of probable cause that a crime has been committed, that allegation must be addressed, even if it raises the specter of further partisan division. (This also applies to “high crime or misdemeanors,” although such allegations need not necessarily constitute a violation of the criminal law.)
To walk away now from the issue of former President Trump’s culpability for the January 6 attack on Congress would prove an egregious mistake. Perhaps more than a third of the Senate will not find Trump culpable for inciting an insurrection. Perhaps there will be enough senators who will doubt that Trump formed any requisite intent or that “incitement” is too vague a term. And some senators will certainly make a decision based solely on their sense of how their vote will play with their home-state voters. But to allow Trump to hold this highest office ever again and to allow him to reap the rewards of post-presidency without any reckoning-- without any confession or contrition for his actions--is an insult to we the victims of his wrongdoing. (Yes, I’m claiming wrongdoing on his part--his lies, his sowing of dissension, his attempt to corruptly influence election officials, his refusal to honor the democratic process--even if some do not believe that his actions rise to the level of high crimes and misdemeanors.)
We, the American people, as much as the institution of Congress, are the victims of the January 6 attack. We should not expect or request that the American people simply forgive and forget the assault promoted by Trump, (as I contend it was). We should not ask the American people to simply forgive and forget any more than we should expect the victim of an assault--a spouse, a child, a friend, or even a stranger--to pretend that they should simply “forgive and forget” the actions of an utterly unrepentant, utterly remorseless perpetrator. The Senate must pass judgment for us to achieve a sense of justice and an opportunity for reconciliation. It may seem harsh, it will likely prove divisive, but without it, we won’t achieve the reckoning and reconciliation that we want and need. And finally, if we fail to act by giving this matter the full consideration and judgment that it deserves, will fail those to whom we are passing on this democratic republic. As President Biden noted in his inaugural address, “We have learned again that democracy is precious. Democracy is fragile. And at this hour, my friends, democracy has prevailed.” But “this hour” alone should not satisfy us. How we act--or fail to act--will echo deep into the future and will define the course of our nation for the decades to come. We mustn’t do the convenient thing, we must do what the times require of us. We must leave the legacy that will allow future generations to enjoy the fruits of a democratic republic.
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