The Judicial Bookshelf

Americans were reminded last January 20, as they are every four years, of the central moment at the Inauguration: the swearing in of the president. In this republican rite, the new or continuing chief executive publicly subordinates himself to the fundamental law of the land. As the Constitution dictates, "[b]efore he enters on the Execution of his Office, he shall take the following Oath or Affirmation: 'I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.'" ¹ Justices of the Supreme Court, other federal judges, legislators and officials, as well as state officeholders, likewise govern only upon making a similar pledge. "Senators and Representatives … , and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution." ² And for added emphasis, protection, and insurance, the Constitution crowns itself, national statutes, and treaties as "the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding." ³ Parallel drama unfolds in other venues too. In the half century since all nominees to the Supreme Court have routinely appeared before the Senate Judiciary Committee, it would be difficult to find an example of a would-be Justice who, through one combination of words or another, did not promise senators that she or he would faithfully interpret and apply the Constitution.     

(Re)introducing Wiley Rutledge

With the rarest of exceptions, when Supreme Court Justices leave the Court, they are soon all but forgotten. ¹ Constitutional law is unrelentingly presentist, so closely intertwined with politics and society that sitting (or recently departed) Justices necessarily speak to the issues more directly than those from another era. If that were not enough, being forgotten is virtually inevitable for those whose careers are short. One of those men was Wiley Rutledge who served from February 1943 until his death at age 55 from a cerebral hemorrhage, six and a half years later. Until John M. Ferren's recently published and marvelously researched Salt of the Earth, Conscience of the Court , ² Rutledge even lacked a true biography. ³ That has been a shame, because the two dominant themes of Ferren's book show that Rutledge is worth knowing: He was a good man and a good judge. Indeed, on what probably was the most fractious Court in American history, ⁴ Rutledge was the sole member both personally liked and intellectually respected by every other member. ⁵     

The Judicial Bookshelf

Decisions by the Supreme Court that are accorded "landmark" status are chiefly remembered for their holdings and effects. Such cases are also typically linked to a particular era of judicial history, as Marbury v. Madison ¹ was to the Marshall Court and Jefferson's presidency, as Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer ² was to the Vinson Court and Truman's presidency, and as Miranda v. Arizona ³ was to the Warren Court and the tumultuous 1960s. But probably only serious students of the Court will recall that Marbury was decided in 1803, Youngstown in 1952, and Miranda in 1966. And fewer still will know, without first consulting a reference, that Marbury came down on February 24, the Steel Seizure Case on June 2, and Miranda on June 13. Scholars typically associate decisions with years, not the day of the month.     

The Judicial Bookshelf

Two decades ago, in the summer of 1987, celebrations of the bicentennial of the United States Constitution were in high gear under the watchful eye of then recently retired Chief Justice Warren E. Burger, who chaired the Commission on the Bicentennial of the United States Constitution between 1985 and 1991. ¹ Numerous lectures, seminars, and conferences across the land made clear not only the role and value of what Chief Justice William Howard Taft once called “the ark of our covenant” ² in the life of the nation but also the central place the judiciary had long occupied in the political system, as state and national courts confronted vital questions of public policy perplexing and dividing the people. As that astute French aristocrat Alexis de Tocqueville first noted in 1835, the “American judge is dragged in spite of himself onto the political field . … There is hardly a political question in the United States which does not sooner or later turn into a judicial one.” ³ With the “right to declare laws unconstitutional,” he explained, the judge “cannot compel the people to make laws, but at least he can constrain them to be faithful to their own laws and to remain in harmony with themselves.” ⁴     

The Judicial Bookshelf

A persistent reality of constitutional government in the United States from practically the beginning of the Republic has been the close link between the Constitution itself and the Supreme Court. Oddly, this link derives more from the Constitution's impact on the American political system than from what the Constitution itself actually says or contains. True, Article III included cases “arising under this Constitution” in describing the proper reach of the federal judicial power, and Article VI specified that “[t]his Constitution and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in pursuance thereof; and all treaties made, or which shall be made under the authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land … ” ¹ But the document not only provided scant means for enforcing that supremacy, but also failed even to specify how this “supreme Law” should be interpreted. It soon became clear, however that the task of interpretation would fall upon the Supreme Court, as illustrated by Chisholm v. Georgia. ² In the face of assurances made by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, John Marshall, and others during the ratification debates in 1787–1788 that a state could not, without its consent, be made a defendant in the federal courts by a citizen of another state, ³ the Justices in 1793 construed the language in Article III conferring the federal judicial power in suits “Between a State and Citizens of another State” to encompass a suit brought by a South Carolinian against the State of Georgia. The uproar that ensued prompted swift ratification of the Eleventh Amendment, which reversed the Court's first excursion into the realm of constitutional interpretation. Despite this rebuke, it was only a short time before Chief Justice Marshall insisted that the judicial power encompassed the authority “to say what the law is.” ⁴ Thus, from the assumed role of expounding of the Constitution evolved the companion duty of guarding it as well.     

The Judicial Bookshelf

Citizens, elected officials, legal practitioners and scholars, and most certainly readers of this journal can surely agree on one verity concerning the U.S. Supreme Court: that an abundance of literature in print and, increasingly, in digital form exists about this capstone institution of the third branch of government. For confirmation, one has only to conduct an online subject search in even a modest-sized library or at one of the Internet-based bookstores to reveal literally hundreds of titles on virtually every aspect of the Court's work as well as the Justices who have sat on its Bench.