Presidential Power and Original Sin

As the political storm over the Bush Administration's domestic surveillance program rages on, I've been struck at the apparent absence of a distinctly Christian perspective from the debate.  While many Christians' support of President Bush may make their silence politically expedient in the short term, it is not consistent, in my view, with the Christian view of law and government.

Among the foundational tenets of Christianity is a belief in original sin.  In the Christian worldview, sin is an inescapable component of the human condition, and government – as an institution created and operated by humans – must account for the reality of sin.  This belief was not foreign to the Constitution’s framers, as evidenced by their genius in establishing a government of separated powers and checks and balances.  James Madison made the connection between sinful man and the constitutional dispersal of power explicit in Federalist No. 51:

[T]he great security against a gradual concentration of the several powers in the same department, consists in giving to those who administer each department the necessary constitutional means and personal motives to resist encroachments of the others. [A]mbition must be made to counteract ambition. . . . It may be a reflection on human nature, that such devices should be necessary to control the abuses of government. But what is government itself, but the greatest of all reflections on human nature? If men were angels, no government would be necessary.

As a believing Christian, President Bush presumably would not dispute the need to account for the fallen nature of office-holders in our government structure.  But he too frequently seems to be paying scant homage to that need for accountability in carrying out the war on terror.  Whether the accusation pertains to the torture of suspected terrorists, the factual premises of the Iraq invasion, or the prospect of the government listening in on Americans’ phone calls, his response often seems to boil down to derivations of two themes: “Trust me” or “I need this power to keep us safe.” 

For example, in admitting more than four years of surveillance without adhering to the statutory requirement of court authorization, President Bush offered this conclusory assurance to the nation: “one, I've got the authority to do this; two, it is a necessary part of my job to protect you; and, three, we're guarding your civil liberties.”  From a Christian perspective, the preservation of civil liberties must be rooted in structural safeguards, not on personal assurances.  The problem does not disappear with the President’s good-faith intentions; it remains pressing as long as the courts have been removed as an effective check on executive power. Especially in a war that has no readily conceivable end, invoking the prospect of American casualties to justify the consolidation of power in one person is dangerous business.

Christian skepticism toward even the well-intentioned presidential power grab must transcend political affiliation and personality.  It’s not a function of the trust we place in the President; it’s a function of our beliefs about human nature.

Rob