I watched the first episode of Kiefer Sutherland’s new show Designated Survivor tonight. Aside from the inevitable bits of gratuitous sanctimony spouted by President Tom Kirkman (Kiefer’s character), the show was pretty good. What I found most interesting, however, was the teaser trailer of scenes from next week’s episode, where we see General Harris Cochrane (played by Kevin McNally) sounding out Presidential aide Aaron Shore (Adan Canto) about what would amount to a coup d’état to replace the accidental President Kirkman, after devastating attack on the U.S. Capitol during the State of the Union address kills the incumbent president, the entire cabinet (save “designated survivor” Kirkman), the entire Congress, the whole Supreme Court, etc., leaving Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Kirkman to ascend to the Presidency by default.
This depiction of an American General as a boorish brute brooding over and plotting against the supposedly feckless, inexperienced President was noteworthy in two respects. First, because of the utter inevitability that a lazy bunch of Hollywood screenwriters hacking away at one of the formerly “big” three networks would trot out this tired, predictable, hackneyed old trope rather than construct a fresh and interesting plot line for their show. The patriotic egotist in uniform plotting to seize power out of a misguided sense of patriotism was an interesting figure when portrayed by Burt Lancaster in Seven Days in May, and was disturbingly compelling as Brigadier General Jack D. Ripper in Dr. Strangelove. But in General Harris Cochrane, it’s just tiresome. Alas, Jack Bauer is a lot more interesting than Tom Kirkman.
Hollywood’s kneejerk impulse to reach for a General as its utility bogeyman is also noteworthy because of just how counterfactual and a-historical it really is. In fact, to the limited extent that Generals have been involved in episodes threatening the Constitutional order in America, they have acted as a bulwark of safety for civil government, and not as an instrument of bludgeon against it. I discussed one such incident ten years ago when I published “Soldiers in the Public Square: The Legacy of the Newburg Conspiracy” in Military Review. That piece examined General George Washington’s role in suppressing mutinous tendencies (albeit over legitimate grievances) among officers of the Continental Army. Today, however, I am interested in another General facing another challenge: Ulysses S. Grant in Reconstruction America.
1866 inaugurated a tumultuous period in American politics. Following Abraham Lincoln’s assassination in 1865, Vice President Andrew Johnson ascended to the Presidency. Lincoln selected Johnson as his second term running mate for reasons of strategy and expediency: By selecting Johnson, a war Democrat, Republican Lincoln could reach across party lines to siphon away Democrat voters from their party’s nominee, George B. McClellan. Additionally, Johnson was a Unionist southerner hailing from Tennessee. Although a rebel Confederate state, Tennessee had been bitterly divided over the question of secession and still harbored a strong pro-Union minority, to whom Johnson could appeal.
Tragically, Johnson’s Unionist sentiment was about the only thing he had in common with Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln had pushed hard for the 13th Amendment to abolish slavery, and over the course of the war had moved gradually but consistently in the direction of greater social and political rights for blacks generally and for freed slaves in particular. In fact, when President Lincoln gave a speech near the end of his life calling for the franchise to be granted selected Freedmen, such those who had served in the Union Army, he was overheard by one John Wilkes Booth. Outraged, Booth resolved that this would be the last speech Lincoln ever made. Booth made good on the threat, murdering Lincoln a short time later.
Unfortunately, Andrew Johnson was a vicious racist who had no truck with Lincoln’s vision of political equality regardless of race. Where Lincoln continually moved further and further in the direction of social and political equality for blacks, Johnson envisioned a post-war world where the Freedman would amount to little more than serfs under the control the white majority, with the only improvement from their former status being that they would not be deemed chattel as they previously had been.
Johnson’s virulent racism put him on a collision course with the Republican controlled Congress. Congress, controlled by the Republican’s “radical” faction, desired an aggressive Reconstruction policy that would push for what amounted to a social and political revolution in the areas of civil rights, political rights, and racial equality. Johnson would have none of it, vigorously resisting the Republican policy and pursuing his own policy of restoration of the Southern states to the secessionist whites who had dominated them before the war.
With such diametrically opposed visions, conflict was inevitable. By mid-1866, tensions between President Johnson and Congress were riding high. Republican leaders in Congress began to fear that Johnson and supporters would resort “to the use of force against Congress, a prospect that became ‘rather common talk.’”[1] Massachusetts Senator Charles Sumner “feared that the President was planning a coup d’état, which would mean ‘revolution and another civil war.’”[2] Rumors circulated that Johnson wanted to replace Congress, and that he had asked his Attorney General whether a Congress composed of Northern Democrats and Southern Congressman could supplant the elected Republican Congress.[3]
General Ulysses S. Grant, then in command of the United States Army, was aware of these swirling rumors. He obviously gave them credence, writing to General Philip Sheridan, who was commanding occupation troops in the South, that “we are rapidly approaching the point where he [Johnson] will want to declare [Congress] itself illegal, unconstitutional, and revolutionary.”[4] Given the great popularity and prestige that Grant enjoyed as the victor of the Civil War, and given Grant’s position as head of the Army, Johnson could hardly proceed with such a scheme without Grant’s support. And he appears to have sounded Grant out about it. “Rumors of this alarming conversation spread like wildfire.”[5] Although the exact content of neither Johnson’s trial balloon nor Grant’s response can ever be ascertained for certain, one thing is clear: General Grant left President Johnson in no doubt that the Army would disperse any usurper Congress that Johnson might try to set up, and would sustain the true and lawful Congress that Johnson so hated.
Those who know me well know that I revere Ulysses S. Grant and cherish his memory. Unlike most people, who appreciate Grant’s contribution as the sword in Lincoln’s hand during the Civil War, I love him not only for that, but also for his truly great contributions after the War. Grant’s Presidential administration has long been derided for alleged corruption – none attributable to Grant himself, even by his detractors. But what has long been overlooked – tragically, in my view – are Grant’s vigorous efforts on behalf of the Freedmen of the former Confederate States, and his heroic role in smashing out of existence the first incarnation of the Ku Klux Klan during the same period. One can fairly say that U.S. Grant was Commander-in-Chief of America’s first war on terror – a war he made sure the terrorists lost.
Happily, a new generation of historians has begun to show a new appreciation for Grant’s fight for liberty during the post-war years. But I believe that the shadowy, obscure episode I describe above deserves a place in the pantheon of his other mighty deeds. By standing up to President Johnson’s machinations for a compliant Congress that would do his will, Grant not only kept Lincoln’s legacy alive in the short term, but also breathed new life into the bedrock principal of American Constitutional government: the division of power among separate, coequal branches of government.
Finally, it is worth noting that Grant did not just protect Congress against the grasping of the President. He protected the Presidency, too. As is well known, Andrew Johnson enjoys the dubious distinction of having been the first President to be impeached, over his defiance of Congress over the Tenure in Office Act. Whatever the merits of their case, the Radical Republican Congress was well within its rights to impeach Johnson (which, in the event, resulted in Johnson’s acquittal by the Senate). Where Congress tried to exceed its authority, however, was in their attempt to strip Johnson of his Presidential powers before conviction. Thaddeus Stevens, a leader of the Radical Republicans, introduced legislation that would have suspended Johnson from office pending the outcome of his impeachment trial.[6] “Determined to resist,” Johnson sought out Grant to determine where he (and the Army) stood.[7] Despite the fact that Grant “had come to detest Johnson … his duty was clear” – he and the Army would resist any effort to strip the President of his authority prior to conviction at an impeachment trial. Without Grant’s support, Stevens’ plan was futile, and was eventually dropped.[8]
[1] See Impeached: The Trial of Andrew Johnson and the Fight for Lincoln’s Legacy, 2010, by David O. Stewart, page 70.
[2] Ibid, pages 69 – 70.
[3] Ibid, 70.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Jean Edward Smith, Grant, 2001, page 444.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid.