President’s Day musings

When I think of John Adams (one of my heroes), I normally think of the John Adams of 1776. In the crucial days leading up to July 4th, he was the undisputed “voice of independence.” While other delegates strolled in and out of Philadelphia, Adams was a constant. His speeches were passionate and persuasive. His expression of thought was crystal clear. His work was tireless (he was on a few dozen committees). He was unflinchingly insistent that declaring independence was the correct course of action. It was no doubt an exhilirating time in his life.

But 1797-1801 was a different story. During these years, John Adams served as the second President of the United States. And what might seem to us to be a pretty nice gig for the Revolutionary era hero turned out to be more of a nightmare.

First of all, Adams had the dubious task of succeeding the enormously popular George Washington (who had been elected to two terms by unanimous electoral vote). Washington was for the most part above criticism. But by the election of 1796, factions had arisen—Federalists and Democratic-Republicans—and the next president would certainly feel the full brunt of the scrutiny and ridicule of his opponents. Adams, a Federalist, was that man, and he indeed felt the fury of Democratic-Republican attacks.

Second, Adams presided over the first major international crisis that the nation faced after winning its independence. And as is the case in many crises, he found himself bereft of friends.

Here’s the crisis in a nutshell:

1. Rival powerhouses England and France were duking it out in the Napoleonic Wars.

2. Both countries took advantage of our young nation by harassing American ships on the high seas.

3. President Washington had declared our neutrality, and dispatched an envoy to England to arrive at a treaty to stop British harassment of our ships (Jay’s Treaty, for all you history buffs).

4. This treaty upset the French.

5. As Adams entered office in 1797, the French stepped up their seizure and confiscation of American ships, and considered declaring war on us.

What ensued has been termed the “Quasi-War” with France, an undeclared war that lasted from 1798-1800. The quasi-war consisted of tit-for-tat harassment of ships between the two nations. And while Adams ordered a speedy ramp-up of naval ship construction and general war preparedness, he held tightly to one important conviction: A conventional, declared war with France must be avoided at all costs. All-out war would cripple our fledgling, infant nation. We were just too weak.

Sounds reasonable, right? Well, as it turns out, in the politically polarized atmosphere of the 1790s, Adams soon found himself very alone.

Consider first his Vice President and old “Spirit of ‘76” buddy Thomas Jefferson. They were friends, right? Well, not exactly. Not at this point, anyway. Jefferson was actually a Democratic-Republican who opposed Adams and the Federalists on practically every major issue of the day. What’s more, while serving as Vice President, Jefferson wrote some pretty nasty things about Adams in letters to friends, and with a hidden hand orchestrated a smear campaign against Adams in the press.

(By the way, notice how President Adams and Vice President Jefferson were of different political factions. This was the case because back then, when electing a President, the second-place finisher became Vice President. Fortunately that has changed. Imagine, for example, if President Bush’s VPs had been Al Gore and John Kerry.)

What about his own “party,” the Federalists? Well, as Adams tried to walk the tightrope of preparing for, yet staying out of declared conflict, Federalists, led by Alexander Hamilton, began to beat the war drums rather loudly. And they too began to skewer Adams.

What about the American public? Sometimes a President can take his case directly to the people. Well, for Adams, there was no such luck. War fever swept across the country with news of French provocations (remember the XYZ Affair?) and fears of a thousand French warships coming over the horizon to invade American shores.

So, everywhere Adams turned, he was opposed. The Quasi-War with France ended in 1800, and all-out war had not been declared. But the whole experience was an extremely unpleasant one for Adams. On Inauguration Day 1801, when Thomas Jefferson was sworn in as our third President, Adams left Washington D.C. early in the morning, under cover of darkness, to return home to Massachusetts, miserable and dejected.

Oh—one more note about Adams and the Quasi-War. Nowadays, historians generally agree that Adams did exactly the right thing by avoiding war with France. By all reasonable accounts, a war with France—or any major world power—would have destroyed our infant nation that was just learning to crawl, let alone walk.

So, as they say, what does all of this have to do with the price of tea in China? Well, when I reflect on John Adams and the crisis with France in the 1790s, it reminds me that sometimes in life when you take a stand for what is right, you will be resolutely opposed from all sides. People who you thought of as friends all of a sudden won’t be. Those who you think would most assuredly agree with you don’t. Those who should be able to see the harmful effects of a bad course can’t. You stand vulnerable to undue criticism and even ridicule. And you suffer a lot of rejection and loneliness.

I admire John Adams for a lot of reasons. He was not a perfect man, nor a perfect President (the Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798 are a noted black mark on his presidency, for instance). But he certainly was one of the greats. This President’s Day, I am thankful that he was willing to “stick to his guns” under the most trying of circumstances, in order to, in a very real sense, save us from ourselves.