Impeaching James K. Polk
At a very practical level, the answer is clearly no.
That is because a majority of Congress today would not define his actions that way. A majority of the house would not impeach him, and not even a simply majority of the senate would convict. Sincere agreement with Bush’s position, party loyalty, a lack of widespread public opposition, and the fear of limiting presidential action in time of war all lean against it. Only if evidence emerged suggesting widespread use of the program in self-serving ways would that change.
Thus the question of impeachment does not hinge on “is this action illegal or unconstitutional” (except for a few constitutional purists) so much as on an evaluation that begins with “is this action illegal or unconstitutional” but ends with “is this action self-serving and unpopular.” Only if all the answers are yes need the president fear impeachment.
In some ways I find that depressing, particularly when I’m in one of my purist moods. If one decides that the criminality of the act depends on its purpose and not its legality then the judgment of Bush, or any other president, is removed from the legal and constitutional realm and placed in the hand of politics. However, maybe it is better to think of impeachment, conviction, and removal of office that way. That is, outside of a few clear horrible crimes, impeachable offenses really should be defined by the intersection of law and politics and not by the former alone.
As an example, take James K. Polk. Please.
In 1846, James K. Polk used his constitutional power as commander in chief to provoke a war with Mexico. It was controversial, but faced with a request for a Declaration of War when hostilities had already begun, most congressmen and senators yielded.
In my survey class, I often make the point that Polk was the first president to understand that the ability of the president to put troops into the field gave him the de facto power to declare a full-scale war. However, the more I think of that, the more I think that my generalization—though not without merit--understates the importance of Polk’s understanding of politics and the temper of his time.
As an example of that, and as a way to consider the definition of an impeachable offense today, here is a counter-factual scenario:
James K. Polk badly misjudged Congress when he sent troops to the Rio Grande, and instead of backing the troops, a majority opposed the war. Furthermore, in this scenario, some were so upset that they propose impeaching Polk for having provoked hostilities. Polk’s supporters countered that he did nothing outside the powers of his office. Right or wrong, they said, he had committed no impeachable offense.
Polk’s opponents probably would have invoked the power of Congress in declaring war in arguing for his impeachment. They might also have brought up the horrors of war and suggested that the blood of the dead in the initial battles were on Polk’s hands. Maybe they would have won the argument and impeached Polk. Of course, the 2/3 senate majority for conviction is a much higher burden. We will allow the counterfactual to stand moot on the question of conviction.
So what’s the point? My point is not that might trumps right in impeachment politics. At least that’s not the point that I want to make today. The point is that when a president goes to the ragged edge of the constitution, he had better make sure that he’s got the public with him. If he goes to that ragged edge without such support, then maybe he ought to be impeached for having committed the crime of creating national chaos for reasons the public will not support.
Finally, even if a president is successful, the animus built up by going to that edge can come back to haunt the country. Consider what did happen during the Mexican American War. The animus built up by Polk’s actions motivated support for the Wilmot Proviso, provoked a hardening of the positions in the debate over slavery in the territories, and at least arguably, began the march toward a new war.