Where Civic Hope and Political Reality Meet: Constitutions

Constitutions everywhere represent the nexus of civic hope and political reality. Nearly 300 professors, lawyers, and judges from 64 countries gathered in Austin, Texas, last month to compare notes during the third Global Summit on Constitutionalism. But a high school student, an atypical but welcome attendee, best captured the event's purpose.

I attended the Summit to offer 12 minutes about U.S. amendment cycles in a concurrent session, but I gained so much more as an attendee for all three event days. Some highlights:

We’re not so different after all: The conference was formally comparative across borders, but the participants expressed notable similarities about pursuing aspirations while guiding actual governance. At a time when constitutional democracies are battling backsliding, the voices of those who toil with the language of democracy offered many reminders of why we do so.

Constitutions are real words in the real world: Judges shared some of the harshest realities. For example, hearing from those whose courts kept Jair Bolsonaro off the ballot again in Brazil or canceled Calin Georgescu’s plurality victory in the Romanian presidential election due to electoral violations bordered on the chilling. They offered courageous reminders that constitutional language can prove critical to daily lives.

Aspirations also Matter: As expected, there was much talk of rights. But the topics were expansive: the right to dignity, the right to truth, the right to be governed by humans, and even the right to hope. Such rights may never find expression in the U.S. Constitution, but we shouldn’t forget that it took more than three generations of diligent work for women to gain the right to vote in this country.

Another twist to rights: The U.S. Constitution frames democracy as majority rule that also protects the rights of the minority. It was fascinating to contemplate a slight revision: majority rule constrained by human rights. Decades ahead, could such an orientation shape American views of how we shape our governing policies and structures?

English: My embarrassment about only knowing the program's language quickly gave way to a love for the different syllabic emphasis that speakers might use. It was striking, if not surprising, to hear a Brazilian professor say after dinner that his most important piece of advice to an aspiring comparative law student was to learn English.

And politics matter: Mark Graber, who teaches at the University of Maryland School of Law in Baltimore, offered the following reminder that his audience may not have liked to hear: constitutions and the law “cannot escape politics.” Indeed, politics is all about navigating our different ways of envisioning what we hope for in the public realm, and constitutions frame the endpoints, the goals. That is what unites us as citizens.

On the last day, conference host and organizer Richard Albert happened by my lunch table and marveled at what he saw: a Ghanaian lecturer, an Iraqi researcher, a judicial magistrate from Bangladesh, and an American writer, all with one common interest – constitutions worth following, defending, and revising. Albert teaches at the University of Texas School of Law in Austin and is an expert in constitutional design and comparative scholarship; what he saw cannot have been all that unusual for him. But here’s how he explained his reaction: “The Summit’s mission is to build bridges across the fault lines that divide us. So far it is working: We are talking to each other, learning from each other, and breaking bread with each other. It is truly inspiring to witness."

He was right. And it became even clearer when the high school student mentioned above stepped to the microphone. She was the last audience member to ask a question during the closing plenary. Questioners throughout the conference were frequently reminded to start their question by mentioning their professional position and sometimes location. She said confidently, “I am a high school junior from Chicago.” Before she could say another word, the audience erupted in applause. By simply being there and representing the future, she reminded everyone of why we had gathered.

We can be thankful to have our Constitution, despite its increasing number of flaws. Updating it may seem daunting today, as is the need to avoid misinterpreting it. But think of how much worse things would be if we didn’t have it to change. Yes, doing so means thinking long term, about the next generation and the next.

The Constitution reminds us that we can and must do this.

Rick LaRue writes about constitutional electoral structure and amendments at Structure Matters.