Opinion: Demonstrating what? Protesting who? And why?

We recently had another round of “Not a King” demonstrations. As many have noted, we still do not have a king. So, good for us.

One might have wished these crowds had been out in force for a “Not a Communist Dictatorship” march as China was crushing the democracy in Hong Kong, carrying “Free Jimmy Lai” signs, or for a “No Tyranny in Ukraine” march as Russian missiles were falling on hospitals and churches in Ukraine. Or perhaps a “Stop the Killing of Christians in Nigeria,” as radical Islamists continue their constant attacks. Then there were the 73 million children killed worldwide in induced abortions last year; that might have merited some outrage.

I was not near “Not a King 2,” but I accidentally drove through the mostly peaceful “Not a King 1” demonstration this past summer. It was so “mostly peaceful,” in fact, it was “completely peaceful.” And yet, it was still somewhat disquieting driving slowly (and oh-so-carefully) through a phalanx of people holding signs and shouting angry slogans.

I support my fellow citizens’ First Amendment constitutional right “peaceably to assemble and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” But on that score, there was something odd about this way of petitioning the government, since all the government buildings were several blocks away. Wouldn’t logic dictate they should have been demonstrating there? Their presence in that particular spot on the street would seem to imply that they weren’t demonstrating against the government as much as they were demonstrating against their fellow citizens—people like me driving through town rather than standing by the side of the street holding a sign and shouting at passing cars.

Their explanation for why they weren’t protesting in front of the local county-city building might have been that the people in that building cannot redress the grievances they have against Donald Trump. But then again, neither can I—nor could any of the rest of the people driving through the phalanx of protestors blocking our way on a major city thoroughfare.

I would have welcomed the opportunity to engage any of these people in a conversation about the issues bothering them. But setting themselves up on either side of a major street through town did not exactly put them in the optimal location for a public, civic-minded discussion. But I suppose reasoned discourse and discussion is not what mob demonstrations are really about. It’s more an expression of power than reasonable persuasion.

So, if this group had set itself up outside the federal building, with a list of arguments as to why they disagree with government policy, that would be worth considering seriously. But instead, they were making a gauntlet on a public street with signs that said things like, “Not a king!” and “Save democracy!”

The “Save democracy!” signs struck me as a little odd, given that we had an election, and as I recall, the majority of votes, both of the populace and the electoral college, went to Donald Trump. It strikes me as an odd thing to petition the government to “save democracy” from the voters. In that case, isn’t the sign really saying: “Save democracy from the people who vote differently from me,” which is not exactly what most people think of when they hear the words “Save democracy.”

Also odd, in this particular city, is that you cannot get elected if you are not a Democrat. That political party controls every part of the government. So if I were a demonstrator down by the city-county building with a sign that said, “Save democracy!” in a city where most people dependably vote Democratic election after election, regardless of the candidate or the outcome for the city, they might be a little offended. I get that.

To be fair, had they held up signs proclaiming, “Save the federalist system!” or “Save our constitutional-republican form of government with its separation of powers and the system of checks and balances,” I probably would have given a big thumbs up or honked the horn in agreement. As a general rule, though, I would rather spend my civic energies voting for senators and representatives who are not partisan hacks, who have a sense of the common good of the nation, and who understand their responsibilities under the Constitution.

Be that as it may, I admit to having a certain affinity with many of the “Not a king” demonstrators. I have had the same concern for a good number of years. When Barack Obama said, “I’ve got a phone and a pen,” I thought, “We elected a president, not a king.” And when Joe Biden started passing out money to his favorite “green” corporations and “forgiving” student loan debt (which meant passing it on to the taxpayers), I remember thinking: “Who gave him the authority to do any of that? Not the Constitution! We elected a president, not a king.”

So, yes, I am with them on the “not a king” thing. I was against it when it was Obama; I was against it when it was Biden; and I am against it when it’s Trump. The president’s executive powers are broad, but they are also limited in important ways by the Constitution. He does not have the constitutional authority to tax, to set tariffs, or to refuse to obey the orders of the Supreme Court. Nor does he have the authority to favor certain businesses over others or tell families how they should or should not raise and educate their children.

The president does, however, I would think, have the authority to cut the number of staff in the Executive Branch. I cannot think of a business in which the management does not have leave to cut its workforce if the circumstances demand it. Most of us have been laid off enough times to know this. Why government employees should be shielded from this reality escapes me.

Please understand, I am against all those in the government who act beyond their constitutionally granted authority, whether they are members of the Executive or Judicial branches, as I am in favor of the Congress taking the responsibility to do its constitutional duty, which the members of both houses have been shirking for a good many years. So, although I would agree with anyone who opposes presidents overstepping their constitutional authority, I do not recall these same people out demonstrating angrily in the streets when Obama and Biden were busy ruling by executive fiat.

The theologian Oliver O’Donovan has suggested that, for progressives, everything that characterizes our current situation is associated with our fallen state, which is why it is not enough to reform the system; the system itself must be judged as fallen and corrupt. It is something that we must “progress beyond” in the inevitable march of history. It is for this reason, writes O’Donovan, that “protests, rather than administrative evolution,” are assumed to be “the engine that propels history forwards on its way.” Cultural transformation is achieved, on this view, by “raising people’s consciousness,” not by engaging in the hard work of legislative discussion and compromise.

The progressive speaks for what he or she takes to be the arc of history and the proper evolution of culture. Theirs is a “living Constitution,” not a set constitutional order with limits that both sides must obey. Thus, “progressive” politicians and judicial judgments must be embraced wholeheartedly, but those that are deemed “regressive” must be opposed by any means possible. Constitutional limits can be jettisoned because, on this view, those limits are things that, with a “living Constitution,” we must progress beyond.

What role should Catholics play in all this? One thing they might have done during our recent marches was to suggest that protesting against a person is not enough. To do some good and to be taken seriously, a group needs a list of proposals, or at least a list of specific grievances needing redress. They need to specify: Here are the things we are against; here are the things we are for. You take those proposals before the American people—you make the best case you can—and then you must accept the judgment of the voters. You do whatever can be done to serve the common good in a republican form of government.

Shouting in the streets is not democracy. One thing the Framers of the Constitution feared as much as tyranny was mob rule. They feared it precisely because they knew it usually led to tyranny. This is why they crafted a republic, not a pure democracy.

Catholics are meant to be a leaven in society that helps the whole loaf rise. Simply joining one side or the other of the partisan debate, repeating its basic terms and slogans, by adding our voices to the shouting of others, merely conforms us to the self-image of the age. Our founders may have been mistaken about some things in their devotion to Hobbes and Locke, but they weren’t mistaken about the importance of reasoned discourse within the context of a republican constitutional order.

Formulating clear definitions and wise distinctions; eschewing emotional, one-sided partisanship; integrity in one’s moral principles that do not shift from one group to another or from one part in power to another; and a dedication to getting the whole truth rather than making partisan points—these are the things Catholics could do to help the nation during this period of upheaval, chaos, and confusion.

We need to face challenges and solve problems with reasonable compromises, listening to all sides. Shouting in the streets, posting snarky comments on Twitter, or posting one-sided partisan “facts” on Facebook—these do less than nothing. They just poison the civic well water from which we all must drink.

We are Catholics and Americans. We should act like it and make ourselves worthy of that calling.