Friday, 1 February 2008

What does the politics of Gun Control tell us about the American way doing government and politics?

Of the many social issues that pulsate within the sphere of American political life, gun control is one of the few to burn with consistent magnesium brightness. To supporters and opponents alike, the issue is of seminal importance, cutting as it does to the heart of rival conceptions of the efficacy of governmental power: government as an enabler or regulator; guardian of cherished liberties or responsible modern pragmatist; conservative or liberal. Whilst these debates fiercely ensue, they do so against a backdrop of judicial power that in one sense renders popular discourse void; the law is what the Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS) says it is. As in the issue of abortion and the hugely contentious Roe v Wade decision, it is a central paradox of American political life that so much ink – and sadly blood – can be spilt on these issues amongst legions of rival clans whilst ultimate power in the worlds leading democracy rests not with the people – but nine unelected judges.

The Supreme Court’s involvement in the issue of gun control is a direct consequence of Constitutional governance – and all the ambiguities and interpretations that stem from this. It is notable that for all the polemic and deep divisions on the issue of gun control, both sides still reason with reference to the constitution. Although the second amendment is ambiguous, and – as a series of SCOTUS decisions have demonstrated – no barrier to pro gun control rulings (Cottrol 1994: 22-27), it is widely interpreted even by gun control advocates as a “constitutional right” to firearms (Singh 2003: 367). It is notable that despite a consistent majority of Americans over the last half century favouring tighter gun control laws (ibid: 361-363; Spitzer 2004: 100) gun control advocates – whether they be Bill Clinton in the 1990s or Senator John McCain in his failed bid for the Republican presidential nomination in 2000 (Singh: 370) – still couch their argument in terms of the “responsible” or “rational” gun laws that will not amend the so-called core right to firearms ownership.

This “core right of ownership” is however, like much of the Bill of Rights, ambiguous and open to interpretation. Advocates of increased gun control point to the collective nature of the Second Amendment: specifically its talk of a “well regulated Militia”, implying there to be no barrier to government’s ability to legislate on gun issues. Opponents of gun control – specifically but not exclusively the National Rifle Association (NRA) – will emphasise the later part of the Second Amendment, specifically the comment: “the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed”. This forms what is known as the “individualist interpretation” of the Second Amendment; gun ownership under this interpretation is an inalienable right, regardless of talk of a regulated Militia (Spitzer: 37-40).

Such legal and grammatical wrangling are however almost entirely academic. These arguments are not important in allowing scholarly investigators to come up with a definitive answer to the Second Amendment riddle – there will almost certainly never be a consensus; as demonstrated by the ambiguity of the Supreme Court in their last Second Amendment case to date: United States v. Miller (1938) (Cottrol: 27-29). Rather, it demonstrates the continuing importance and relevance of the constitution to modern US politics. To protagonists on both sides of the dispute, 18th century words are of 21st century importance. It is notable that in perhaps no other democratic nation is the issue of gun ownership discussed in terms of “rights” (Wroe 2002: 97). In Britain and other countries, the absence of a Second Amendment guaranteeing any such “right” means the issue is discussed broadly on utilitarian grounds: if a majority of the population and politicians are in favour of a total ban on handguns, this can became law. In America, even if – inconceivably – a majority of the population were in favour of a total ban on handguns, it is equally inconceivable that such a law – barring an amendment – would be deemed constitutional. The paradox of American political life mentioned in the introduction: the abundance of democracy, coupled with real and practical limits on popular majority expression, brings to mind a quote from John Stuart Mill: “If all mankind minus one were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind”.

If the realities of United States governance to a certain degree insulate opponents of gun control from popular pressure, it does nothing to abate the passion and vigour with which the issue is debated across the width and breadth of the nation. Like abortion and capital punishment, the issue of gun control revolves around more than just legal and political principles; in a very real sense it involves issues of life and death. With justification does Spitzer quote one NRA insider as likening the group to “a religion”; in the 1930s it was not uncommon for the NRA – then primarily an organisation of hunters and farmers – to work with gun control advocates on certain projects, notably in crafting gun regulations for Washington DC (Spitzer: 76; 109). Since then however, the group has become more fundamentalist: with the goal of opposing any regulation, major or minor (ibid: 82).

This fundamentalist streak is in part what explains the effectiveness of the NRA and lobby groups like it. The majority of the American public are in favour of increased gun control laws; but they are a passive majority. They are not interested enough to make gun control a key factor in deciding how they vote, in contrast to pro-gun activists who are an “active” minority; and as far as politicians are concerned, this arguably counts for more (Wroe 2002: 96). This “active minority” of gun lovers will vote on a “for-us-or-against-us” basis (Spitzer: 84), making them politically more important – despite their minority status. As McKeever notes of the American governmental system: “majority opinion is not channelled to have the greatest impact. Nor is it well funded or organised. It is simply politically ineffective” (McKeever 1999: 9).

The implications for US government and politics should be clear. It is tempting to dismiss the passion and vitriol with which the issue of gun control is debated as evidence of mere partisan frivolity – subordinate to the far more important task of lobbying and donating to political parties. But this is the NRA’s greatest strength. There may exist multifarious sources of income and potential donors to American politicians; but there are only a finite number of votes. Where a substantial – albeit minority – chunk of voters are prepared to put one issue above all else, politicians cannot afford to ignore their demands. In this respect partisanship has very real electoral consequences.

Opposing them proponents of gun control are no less ardent or determined in their position. In May of 2000, partly in response to the Columbine High School killings a year earlier in Littleton, Colorado, a group of approximately 200,000 mothers congregated in Washington DC for a “million mom march” – demanding tougher gun control measures (Singh: 370). With the two groups heated rhetoric – with NRA talk of “jack booted” fascist federal law enforcement agents and certain gun control advocates talk of “killing machines”, the window for debate as noted by Spitzer, is narrow (Spitzer, quoted in Singh 2003: 371). In often-literal terms do the opposing sides view each other as “enemies” (Spitzer: 74); and although with fewer overtly religious overtones as with the debate over abortion, the gun issue none the less captures the evangelical essence of American attitudes towards democracy and personal freedom.

A slightly less altruistic gene of the American political being displayed by the issue of gun control is businesses close role in pressure group politics and the business of lobbying politicians. A good example being the intimate relationship between the NRA and the firearms industry; both of who have a vested interest in promoting the aforementioned “individualistic” conception of the second amendment. Spitzer notes a “revolving door” operating between business and the NRA, with cooperation “in tandem to generate new kinds of target sports in order to draw in more people as gun users, and to create methods for new gun designs, as a way to prod what the gun industry considered sluggish sales in the 80s and 90s” (ibid: 79-80).

The nexus between the two is real and effective, as can be judged by the success the duo have had in getting Congress to restrict liability lawsuits against manufacturers of firearms (Barone & Cohen 2005: 18). For all involved – businessmen, congressmen, and NRA lobbyists – this victory was a demonstration of classic ‘iron triangle’ politics: the firearms industry was the obvious direct beneficiary; Republican congressmen who voted overwhelmingly for the bill could receive further donations from such groups and demonstrate their free market credentials to voters; and NRA lobbyists could market it as a victory for gun ownership in America and their business allies. Departing from the issue of gun control albeit briefly, it is notable that such an iron triangle in favour of lax gun lawyers and limited business liability pales into insignificance next to those revolving around farm subsidies and defence spending. With the later in particular, it is still obvious how prescient the remarks of Dwight Eisenhower were on the undue influence of the military industrial complex and all the iron triangles associated with it in his 1961 farewell to the nation (McKeever: 269).

Closely related is the issue of lobbying. Lobbying exists in all manner of democracies, but it is in America – with its multiple tiers of government; tradition of loose party loyalty; and the large sums needed for any aspiring politician at nearly all levels of government – that really feeds the lobbying profession. ‘The Institute for Legislative action’ is the official lobbying arm of the NRA. Created in 1975 it has in recent years been responsible for as much as 25% of the total NRA budget, this best illustrated by the figures for total ILA spending in 1988 of $20.2 million; by 1992 this figure had risen to $28.9 million (Spitzer: 81).

Political Action Committees or ‘PAC’s are the other side of the lobbying coin. These are a direct off shoot of the 1974 Federal Campaign Act, which put strict limits on individual and corporate contributions and thus forced individuals and groups to come up with new ways of financing campaigns. In particular, although there is a $5000 limit to any candidate’s primary campaign, and a further $5000 limit on the actual campaign, there is no limit to the amount of ‘soft money’ PAC’s have the ability to raise (McKay 2005: 270-271). This is money that does not go directly to a candidate or campaign; spent instead on such causes as the 2004 anti-John Kerry ‘Swift Boat Veterans For Truth’ advertisements (Barone & Cohen: 35); which remain within the letter of the law so long as they provide information about a candidate – and refrain from endorsing or advocating the defeat of a particular candidate (Nelson quoted in Singh 2004: 124).

With regards the NRA, their PAC – the ‘Political Victory Fund’ – was able to raise $20 million worth of funds for the 1999-2000-election cycle – money spent on state and federal elections (Spitzer: 82). Several points are made abundantly clear about US government and politics from the perspective of the role of interest groups. In a similar vain to the constitution, interest groups and PAC’s effectively endorse the status quo and stymie majority politics. So long as groups such as the ILA and the Political Victory Fund have the ability to withhold funds for campaigns, use negative advertising against pro-gun control candidates – and exploit the fact that they, unlike most United States politicians, have reach and influence over arguably all branches of government – state and federal – they remain a formidable weapon in the armoury of anti gun control forces.

Least anyone is under the illusion that the money in American politics resides solely with conservative agents such as Second Amendment individualists, it is instructive to look at the funds available to liberal – pretty much uniformly pro-gun control – political advocates. One of the most striking facts of the last presidential election in 2004 was that for all the talk of the Republicans as the party of big business and all the funds that go with that, it was the Democrats who actually raised the most money: the Kerry campaign, the Democratic National Committee, and anti-Bush PAC’s spent some $344 million on ads during the campaign; whilst the Bush campaign, the Republican National Committee and pro-Bush PAC’s spent some $289 million (Barone & Cohen: 28). As far as the pervasive influence of big money goes in US politics, it is an equal opportunities game; a necessary adjunct for effective campaigning even if – as the Kerry campaign showed – it is ultimately spent on a losing cause.

If proof were needed that the passage of gun control legislation through Congress is fraught with difficulty, then it is evident in the fate of two pieces of gun control legislation: the 1968 Gun Control Act; and the 1993 Brady Bill. The 1968 Gun Control Act was partly a response to the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King; Lyndon Johnson calling on members of the Houses of Congress “in the name of sanity…in the name of safety and in the name of an aroused nation to give America the gun control law it needs” (Spitzer: 114). This did not however stop congressional amendments and spoiling tactics from anti-control legislators: conservative Republicans and southern Democrats. The ability to filibuster – as with Strom Thurmond’s 24 hour marathon filibuster of the 1960 Civil Rights Act – delay, obstinate, and block potential legislations passage out of the committee stages (just 10% of potential legislation makes it out of committees) is a running theme in Congress, and something inherent in the structure of the US legislature (McKay: 172-178). In the case of the 1968 Gun Control Act, 45 attempts were made to amend the legislation (18 accepted, 27 rejected, with wins and losses for both sides); meanwhile, in the Senate there were 17 formal amendment motions, of which 9 were accepted and 8 rejected (Spitzer: 114). The Bill did make it onto the statute books – but in an emasculated form. Although it banned among other things the interstate shipment of arms and ammunition to private individuals, the sale of guns to minors, drug addicts, felons, and mental incompetents – the core of Johnson’s original proposals: that there be blanket registration and licensing of all gun users – disappeared in the quicksand’s of Congressional bargaining (ibid: 115).

The Brady Bill’s fate was different – but similar in effect. Named after Ronald Reagan bodyguard James Brady, who was paralysed in the 1981 attempt on Reagan’s life, the core proposals of this Bill included a five-day waiting period (for states that did not already have one) in which background checks could be made on gun buyers (Singh: 362). Congress passed the act in 1993; but by 1997 sufficient resentment had accrued of the Bill’s compulsion for the administration of background checks for law enforcement agents from Arizona and Montana to launch a legal case against the Brady Bill as a violation of the federalist principle of the Tenth Amendment. In Printz v. United States (1997) by a 5-4 margin, the Supreme Court ruled with the plaintiffs – that the Brady Bill was a violation of states rights (McKeever: 95-96). It was thus void.

Both Bill’s demonstrate to varying degrees the difficulties faced by gun control advocates in advancing their agenda. The 1968 Act is indicative of the problems all creative legislature faces in Congress: that it runs against entrenched interests, beliefs, practices, and the structurally conservative bias of the Houses of Congress. The Brady Bill demonstrates the exact same principle – but on a national scale. In a nation designed both practically and philosophically around distrust of government power, particularly central government, such Bills run against not just the federalist laws of the land, but the ideological creed of the nation as well.

It is notable that of the recent gun related cases to come before the SCOTUS, it was the Tenth, not Second Amendment, used by the court to render federal legislation null. The Brady Bill was one, the other being the case of the Gun Free Schools Act of 1990, which made it a federal offence to carry a firearm within 1,000 feet of a school. The court also ruled this – like the Brady Bill – unconstitutional on Tenth Amendment grounds, in United States v. Lopez (1995) (Vile 1999: 173). Whereas the Second Amendment is in part ambiguous and vague, the Tenth leaves no one in much doubt as to the veracity and scope of federal power. This effectively acts as a barrier to any legislation – pro or anti gun – that does not respect both the Tenth Amendment and existing state laws. The plethora of gun laws at state and local level – 20,000 by some estimates (Singh: 359) – but the relative absence of them federally demonstrates this to be one issue, like so many in US politics, where the individual states still reign supreme.

Another significance of federalism as relevant to the issue of gun control is in its reflection of regional political differences, and the real divide between the politics of urban – generally liberal, Democratic – cities, and that of rural – predominantly conservative, Republican – areas. The regional trend is obvious: the more rural your constituency, the more likely you are to oppose gun control measures – the opposite being true for urban areas. Of the 52 votes in the senate in favour of extending the 1994 ban on assault weapons, just 12 of those senate votes came from states that voted for anti-gun control George W. Bush in 2004 (Barone & Cohen 2005). In terms of House votes, those in the 108th Congress who came from the most rural congressional districts voted uniformly to restrict gun liability damages – just as those from the smallest and most urban districts voted against (ibid). As one would expect from such a big, diverse nation, federalism reflects very real cultural and political differences.

What one can learn about American politics above all else with relation to the issue of gun control is the power of the constitution. The constitution is explicit on the role of federalism, and thus on the limits of the government in Washington DC to legislate nationally. This point is crucial for any understanding of the functioning of US politics: a “Eurocentric” view of politics tends towards viewing centralised political power as the most important and relevant on all issues of governance; an example being the aftermath of the Dunblane massacre in Scotland in 1996, when the British government took steps to ban possession of all handguns (Singh: 371). This is an archetypal example of the powers of a democratic unitary state, but totally irrelevant to American politics. The major players in Washington can only act with a limited mandate on gun control and many other issues; for the simple reason that they lack the authority to do any more.

The last, obvious, point in relation to this issue is the Second Amendment – and the debatable “right” to ownership that this entails. Simply put, where firearms ownership can be interpreted to any degree as a “right” – constitutional, and inert – it robs contemporary politicians of powers of alteration. The issue of gun control demonstrates above all else the conservative bias of constitutional government, the reverence for the Bill of Rights, and the extent to which politicians in the world’s foremost democracy are themselves curiously powerless.

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Bibliography

Michael Barone & Richard E. Cohen: ‘The Almanac Of American Politics 2006’; National Journal Group; Washington DC 2005

Robert J. Cottrol: ‘Gun Control And The Constitution: Sources and Explorations on the Second Amendment’; Garland Publishing, New York & London 1994

David McKay: ‘American Politics & Society’; 6th edition; Blackwell Publishing 2005

David McKay, David Houghton and Andrew Wroe: ‘Controversies In American Politics And Society’; Blackwell Publishers 2002

Robert McKeever, John Zvesper, Richard Maidment: ‘Politics USA’; Prentice Hall 1999

Robert Singh: ‘Governing America: The Politics of a Divided Democracy’; Oxford University Press 2003

Michael J. Spitzer: ‘The Politics of Gun Control’; 3rd edition CQ Press 2004

M.J.C. Vile: ‘Politics in the USA’; Routledge 1999

Joseph F. Zimmerman: ‘Contemporary American Federalism – The Growth Of National Power’; Praeger 1992

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