A slim and engaging look at how the sausage of the Constitution was made. Ellis focuses on the four prime movers of the constitutional project -- Washington, Madison, Jay, and Hamilton -- who, along with a handful of other statesmen were responsible for the adoption of the new constitution. Not hagiographical, the book shows how very messy the process was, and how it might easily have failed. It's difficult to remember, but many Americans were deeply opposed to anything more than the weakest of federal governments, believing that the Revolution was fought to free them from a powerful tyranny. They were in no rush to create a new one. They also tended to be rather parochial, feeling themselves citizens of their respective states. An American identity had yet to be formed. For many, then, the rather pathetic federal government created by the Articles of Confederation was a feature, not a bug.
That being the case, how did our quartet ensure that their vision of a stronger federal government prevail? Hard work, superior organization, skilled use of procedure, and conviction born from their experience dealing with the Confederation Congress during the war. At times, the opposition seems to have been asleep. "Indeed, the majority vote on the core plank of the Virginia Plan was really another coup of sorts, since only seven states were present for the vote - none of the New England states and yet arrived - and based on subsequent voting patterns of the absent delegations, it seems unlikely that the Morris resolution would have garnered a majority if all the delegates had been in attendance. For that matter, there was never a moment during the entire summer when all fifty-five delegates were present. Given our sense that this was almost assuredly the most consequential conclave in American history, it strains credibility to realize that the Constitutional Convention was an ever-shifting, highly transitory body of men with different degrees of commitment to the enterprise. One of the intangible advantages that nationalists enjoyed in this swirling context was that, thanks largely to Madison, they were better organized and - though this is impossible to prove - more invested in the outcome."
* Another passage that neatly summarizes how the nationalists won the day against tremendous odds. "To say, then, that ratification represented a clear statement about the will of the American people in 1787-1788 would be grossly misleading. What ratification really represented was the triumph of superior organization, more talented leadership, and a political process that had been designed from the start to define the options narrowly (i.e., up or down), and the successful outcome broadly (i.e., nine states). And despite their built-in advantages, it was still a close call. A shift of six votes in Virginia would have probably produced a shock wave that left four states -- Virginia, New York, North Carolina, and Rhode Island -- out of the union. Ande even though nine state had ratified, so that the Constitution was legally adopted, it is difficult to imagine an American nation surviving in such a geographically splintered condition."
* Being written in the 18th century, the document was informed by a rather less enthusiastic view of democracy then modern Americans might have. "There was in Madison's critical assessment of the state governments a discernible antidemocratic ethos rooted in the conviction that political popularity generated a toxic chemistry of appeasement and demagoguery that privileged popular whim and short-term interests at the expense of the long-term public interest. Fifty years later such a posture would be regarded as unacceptably elitist. But at the time, Madison felt no need to apologize for his critique, which derived its credibility not from some theoretical aversion to the will of teh majority, but from a critical assessment of the popularly elected state governments during and after the war. He harbored an eighteenth-century sense that unbridled democracy was incompatible with the political health of a republic."
* One of the Constitution's deepest flaws from a modern perspective is the treatment of slavery. It was also a flaw from an 18th century perspective, but one for which no solution suggested itself. "The other ghost at the banquet was slavery, which was simultaneously omnipresent and unmentionable. Lincoln subsequently claimed that the decision to avoid the word slavery in the founding document accurately reflected the widespread recognition that the 'peculiar institution' was fundamentally incompatible with the values on which the American Revolution was based, so that the bulk of the delegates realized that any explicit mention of the offensive term would, over time, prove embarrassing.
This was true enough, but the more palpable and pressing truth in the summer of 1787 was that slavery was deeply embedded in the economies of all states south of the Potomac and that no political plan that questioned that reality had any prospect of winning approval. Much like the big-state--small-state conflict, then, a sectional split was, from the beginning, built into the very structure of the convention, and some kind of political compromise was inevitable if the Constitution were to stand any chance of passage and ratification."
*Post-ratification, Madison opposed the addition to a bill of rights to the Constitution, but came to embrace it as a means of taking the wind out of his opponent's sails, some of whom wanted to call a second constitutional convention. This might seem surprising to modern Americans, who hold the Bill of Rights in nearly as high esteem as the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution itself. "In truth, [Madison] still did not share Jefferson's faith in the efficacy of written lists of rights, and he believed that the greatest protection of individual rights was already embedded in the political framework created by the Constitution. But the political reasons for going forward were now clearer than ever: his Virginia constituents wanted amendments; a bill of right would undermine the subversive second convention movement; and reluctant ratifiers in six states would learn that he was listening. As he put it to Jefferson, such an act of conciliation would 'extinguish opposition to the system, or at least break the force of it by detaching the deluded opponents from their designing leaders.' In short, he vied the movement for a bill of rights not as an opportunity to glimpse the abiding truths, but as the final step in the ratification process."
As Ellis notes: "Over the ensuing decades and centuries... the Bill of Rights has ascended to an elevated region in the American imagination. But in its own time, and in Madison's mind, it was only an essential epilogue that concluded a brilliant campaign to adjust the meaning of the American Revolution to a national scale."
* Some of the reviews on Goodreads have complained that Ellis wears his judicial/constitutional philosophy on his sleeve, and that this ruined the book for them. Ellis doesn't hide his views -- see below -- but to the extent that they appear in the book, I don't see why anyone would find them off-putting since they appear in the context of historical argumentation. For example, in a discussion of the background to the Second Amendment, Ellis writes that Madison drafted the amendment based on suggestions submitted by five states that called for defense to be provided by state militia rather than a permanent standing army, a standing army being a dagger pointed at the heart of the new republic. In a footnote, he makes his views clear: "The ongoing debate over the right to bear arms in our own time is obviously a deeply divisive issue that generates much shouting, foot-stomping, and even death threats. My point... is that for judicial devotees of the "original intent" doctrine, Madison's motives in 1789 are clear beyond any reasonable doubt. To wit, the right to bear arms derived from the need to make state militias the core pillar of national defense. In order to avoid reaching that conclusion, the majority opinion in Heller, written by Justice Antonin Scalia, is an elegant example of legalistic legerdemain masquerading as erudition. Madison is rolling over in his grave." If you're an Originalist, maybe this will annoy you, but you now have the benefit of knowing where Ellis is coming from. Besides, most of the book has nothing to do with issues of modern interpretation.