There used to be an American myth, whose truth was taken for granted by many, that the gravity of the presidency would inspire and elevate the work of anyone who came to occupy that office—so that common men—ordinary, non-aristocratic American citizens—would perform unexpectedly well, and perhaps even rise to greatness, under the burden of so great and solemn a trust. The idea fit well into the thinking of a nation that had cast off the rule of kings, and now exalted the potential of free men (and eventually women) to govern themselves.
(Note: the whole idea behind America, then, is that we are supposed to govern ourselves. Not be ungovernable. Not be governed by someone else. But I digress.)
This myth, the myth of the transforming power of the presidency, may be traceable in part to the presidency of Chester Alan Arthur, our 21st president, who succeeded to the presidency following the assassination of James Garfield, and who served in that office from 1881 to 1885. Arthur, a New Yorker, had come up as a machine politician under the corrupt bosses of Tammany Hall; he also associated with Senator Roscoe Conkling’s Stalwart wing of the New York Republican party, which backed the “spoils system” in American governance. Arthur was widely considered an unserious and possibly corrupt politician in his own right, who could be relied on to defend Conkling’s “status quo” Republicanism. With Garfield now dead, many anticipated that Arthur would only besmirch the presidency, while accomplishing little or nothing of any value.
Instead, he rose to the occasion. He became the champion of the American civil service, signing into existence the body of civil service law we have today. In so doing, he realized the dreams of idealistic people, Republican and Democrat alike, who had spent their political careers fighting for a more capable federal bureaucracy—as opposed to a system based on party patronage, nepotism, and political favors. President Arthur thus added immeasurably to the competence of our government and the professionalism of its employees—a benefit that persisted into our own time.
I've written elsewhere about how the current president, our 47th, has sought to dismember that federal civil service, and has largely succeeded—perhaps irreparably. He is seeking to return us to a period when personal power was buttressed by the cynical distribution of public favors in transactional ways. He has sold millions of gullible American voters on the notion that civil servants are a waste of money at best; and at worst, part of a huge clandestine “deep state” conspiring to circumvent American values and principles. At the same time, he has also emasculated the Republican-led legislature in both Houses, to the point where Congress provides no checks or balances on him, but only acts as a rear guard and a rubber stamp to enable his actions. Now he is experimenting with defiance of the court system, up to and including the Supreme Court itself. As of this writing, the court does not seem to realize that it is involved in a zero-sum game of power with the president, which Trump feels he must win. If he succeeds in neutralizing the Supremes, his fascist takeover of the United States of America will be complete.
As President Obama has observed on many occasions, none of this began with Donald Trump—and that would include the trashing of the civil service for partisan political advantage. I peg the corruption of the modern Republican party to the speakership of Newt Gingrich, whose ideas of statecraft entitle him to be the intellectual heir of Roscoe Conkling in the present day. Gingrich may not have defined the “deep state,” but he undoubtedly targeted the civil service in his bid to make it conform seamlessly to his extreme right wing agenda. His tenure as Speaker featured new strategies of psychological manipulation and bad faith negotiating to a degree not seen before. Today he remains a prominent.“deep state” conspiracy theorist and an advocate of cozy legal exceptions for power-hungry billionaires.
The federal bureaucracy has the flaws of all bureaucracies: it is bulky and expensive; it is slow. Its people are jealous of their powers and perks, and they often retain elements of their own personal preferences. Who has not been driven to distraction by bureaucratic red tape?
But the bureaucracy is not a monolithic force. Its aims and loyalties are more diverse, more molecular. It serves diverse ends, and competes with itself. If some segments of it are clandestine, there are many that are transparent. It exists to carry out complex requirements of law and regulation, to advance government proficiency, and to administer the benefits of citizenship fairly, without bias or bigotry. Despite its myriad flaws and limitations, our civil service bureaucracy meets these objectives to an astonishing degree. It is, and remains, indispensable to the existence and operation of our modern nation-state.
As for “Chet” Arthur, the “Dude President,” he is not today considered one of our great presidents by any means. But neither is he dismissed as one of the worst, or as a failure. In his four years at the helm of our ship of state, he assembled a substantial, mostly positive record, and earned the praise of no less critical an observer than Mark Twain. Expectations to the contrary, he has edged his way into our presidential pantheon. He remains, even in his mediocrity, a more respectable president by far than the dude we have now, who seeks to undo his work, as he has undone the work of so many others.