Last week’s circuit court decisions in
Padilla and
Gherebi were met with deep skepticism at the blawgosphere’s high-elevation locations. Judge Reinhardt’s decision in
Gherebi came in for particular scorn. The passage that really got some people roiled was this one:
"Even in times of national emergency - indeed, particularly in such times - it is the obligation of the Judicial Branch to ensure the preservation of our constitutional values and to prevent the Executive Branch from running roughshod over the rights of citizens and aliens alike."
Glenn Reynolds called this
"gasbaggery" that would do more to hinder than to advance a civil liberties agenda. Professor Bainbridge
concurred.
To the Wall Street Journal, both decisions—Padilla and Gherebi—were evidence of a
"September 10 mindset."And Feste, echoing the criticism of these decisions,
approvingly recalled the unshakeable instinct of many of the WWII generation to defend the incarceration of Japanese Americans:
My WWII generation mother and I often had discussions about the Japanese detainees, being a 60's child I thought it wrong on every level and had peers who were born in the camps. Mother's conviction could not be shaken "You don't understand, you haven't witnessed an attack on America, you were not in California in 1941, we were at war with Japan, fighting for our lives, for your future."
On that subject, allow me to quote another opinion that, in its time, might well have been—indeed, probably was—dismissed as "gasbaggery":
This exclusion of "all persons of Japanese ancestry, both alien and non-alien," from the Pacific Coast area on a plea of military necessity in the absence of martial law ought not to be approved. Such exclusion goes over "the very brink of constitutional power" and falls into the ugly abyss of racism. . . . I dissent . . . from this legalization of racism. Racial discrimination in any form and in any degree has no justifiable part whatever in our democratic way of life. It is unattractive in any setting but it is utterly revolting among a free people who have embraced the principles set forth in the Constitution of the United States. All residents of this nation are kin in some way by blood or culture to a foreign land. Yet they are primarily and necessarily a part of the new and distinct civilization of the United States. They must accordingly be treated at all times as the heirs of the American experiment and as entitled to all the rights and freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution.
Pretty gassy, huh?
How about this one?
Much is said of the danger to liberty from the Army program for deporting and detaining these citizens of Japanese extraction. But a judicial construction of the due process clause that will sustain this order is a far more subtle blow to liberty than the promulgation of the order itself. A military order, however unconstitutional, is not apt to last longer than the military emergency. Even during that period a succeeding commander may revoke it all. But once a judicial opinion rationalizes such an order to show that it conforms to the Constitution, or rather rationalizes the Constitution to show that the Constitution sanctions such an order, the Court for all time has validated the principle of racial discrimination in criminal procedure and of transplanting American citizens. The principle then lies about like a loaded weapon ready for the hand of any authority that can bring forward a plausible claim of an urgent need.
Whew! Spare me! Didn't these judges know it was wartime?
The answer, of course, is that they did know. The first excerpt is from
Justice Frank Murphy's dissent in Korematsu v. United States (1944), and the second is from
Justice Robert Jackson's dissent in the same case.
Gasbaggery? Hardly. Wrong-headed, and ignorant of the real threat the nation faced? No. History has revealed, beyond question, that the Supreme Court struck the wrong balance between order and freedom in
Korematsu, and that Murphy and Jackson were right.
What does this mean for the quick and easy criticism of the decisions in
Padilla and
Gherebi, and of Judge Reinhardt's expansive language in
Gherebi?
To my eye, it is evidence of a basic and dangerous misconception about the judicial role during times of war and crisis. Chief Justice Rehnquist published a book back in the late '90s called "All the Laws But One," the theme of which was that "in time of war the government's authority to restrict civil liberty is greater than in peacetime." (Those are the Chief Justice's words, on p. 224). In Rehnquist's view, it is "a desirable phenomenon" that federal judges are "reluctan(t) to decide a case against the government on an issue of national security during a war" (p.221).
Rehnquist reached this conclusion after a
highly selective review of American legal history from the Civil War through World War II – a review that omitted the many stories of federal judges who stood up to the Executive during times of war and crisis. And there
are many. I detail some of them in
this review of Rehnquist's book that I published in the University of Chicago Law Review in 1999. (PDF file)
My review makes clear that there is a rich tradition of judicial rights protection during wartime.
Padilla and
Gherebi fit squarely in that decision, and ought to be praised for their courage rather than derided as gasbaggery that is blind to the peril we face.
Writing several years before 9/11, I argued in my review of the Chief Justice's book that his praise of judicial deference to the Executive in wartime was dangerous: "Future wartime presidents, generals, and judges will read this Chief Justice's book," I noted. "[Those] readers should be familiar not just with the stories of repression, but also with the stories of liberation."
I say "bravo" to the four judges in the two circuits who found the courage to sign opinions refuting the Administration's position. Those judges join a proud tradition. Surely their views are no more self-evidently appropriate for dismissal than were those of Justices Murphy and Jackson in Korematsu—Justices who were, after all, exactly right.
This post is not, by the way, an out-and-out defense of the outcomes of both cases; Gherebi and Padilla present different legal issues, and the two courts take different sorts of routes to their conclusions. The post is instead a defense of the two decisions against the charge that their rhetorical insistence on the protection of liberty in wartime is foolish and out of touch with the times.