An Unlikely Phoenix

by Frank Zafiro

  August shrugged. “Suffice it to say that they gloss over the decade from 1935 to 1945, and are prone to their fair share of euphemisms when describing events. It’s hardly uncommon. As much as I do love my own country, we are certainly no different in this regard, if we’re being perfectly honest with ourselves. Every nation tends to minimize its own evils.”

  “This is precisely why many of us are unsure about this course of action,” James Mallory said. A thin, orderly man, James reminded Alex of a shorter, more compact Ichabod Crane. “No one wants to end up on the wrong side of history.”

  “I should think worrying more about right and wrong itself will solve that issue,” Miriam said.

  James shrugged. “Jefferson Davis thought he was right. That’s not the same as being right.”

  “And yet, not making a decision is a decision.”

  “Sometimes,” James replied, “it is the right one.”

  “I’ve always had a particular loathing for abstention,” August said. “It smacks of indecision at best, and at worst, cowardice.”

  James did not appear ruffled. “I’m glad that things are so black and white in your world, August. The real world is much more gray.”

  “So sayeth the abstainer.”

  Alex held his hands up again. “All right, folks. We were doing so well there for a short bit. Can we put the knives away, please?”

  August picked up his drink and tipped it toward James and then Miriam. “Forgive me if I was brusque.”

  There was some momentary hesitation before both James and Miriam raised their own glasses to him, and all three sipped.

  “So if I’m hearing your point correctly, August, you’re saying that as a practical matter, the federal government will not allow California to secede?”

  “Entirely accurate, Alex. And further, that the federal government will utilize military force to prevent such an action from standing. Military force, by the way, that we could not hope to rival, even if we dared consider it.”

  Miriam shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just refuse to believe that it would come to that. We’re talking about going down a path of legal actions to peacefully become a separate political entity. We are not proposing armed insurrection in the streets. With the eyes of the world upon us, I sincerely doubt the White House would turn a legal battle into a military one.”

  “And that is precisely why I said earlier that you are being naïve,” August replied. “I meant no insult by it. But it should be inherently clear to you that this president cares little for what the world thinks, and world opinion will not serve as a restraint when it comes to his response.”

  “We live in a civilized age,” Miriam persisted. “An age of laws. I believe that law will prevail.”

  “There is plenty of law to be found on this issue,” August said. “Texas v. White, if you want to start there. The Supreme Court ruled secession to be an illegal act.”

  “That was over a hundred and fifty years ago!”

  “And still a standing precedent. Therefore, law. Therefore, the president could easily justify enforcing said law, up to and including using whatever force is reasonable and necessary to do so.” August stared at her plaintively. “Honestly, Miriam, do you not see this? Or do you choose to ignore it?”

  “I see it,” she replied. “I just see it differently.”

  “All right,” Alex said. “Let us concede that there are significant practical obstacles to a secession.”

  “That may very well be the understatement of the century,” August told him ruefully.

  “The century is still young. Even so, if we concede that point for the moment and remove it from consideration, you said you would still argue against secession on philosophical grounds?”

  “Yes,” August said. “I am an American. I do not run from problems, even if they are of an internal nature. I advocate working from within the system to fix the system. It is a strategy with a long and noble history, and while it has at times been painful, it is always worthwhile. For reference, I point to Martin Luther King, Jr.” He glanced almost involuntarily at Gregory, then back at Alex. “I trust no one will argue against the reverend?”

  “Not against the man, certainly,” Héctor Chavez said before anyone else could answer. “But your analogy is flawed. We are faced with a corrupt system that will not change, August.”

  “So was Dr. King,” August countered. “And instead of moving away from this country or trying to create a black nation, he strove to change the system from within. In fact, he gave his life for this cause, and we are all richer for his efforts.”

  “Far be it from me to minimize the work of one of my personal heroes,” Gregory said. “But I have to agree with Héctor on this one. While Dr. King fought an uphill battle, he had allies in the government who were striving to make the same kinds of changes he was. These were enlightened people who were drawing a somewhat reluctant populace into a higher state of existence. It was much bigger than just Dr. King and his movement, though he was clearly a major driving force. Today is much different. In fact, it is almost the polar opposite. Rights are being systematically eroded, and quite frankly, this president is dragging a compliant populace back into a simplistic, bigoted state of existence.”

  “A trend we must reverse,” August agreed. “Which we cannot do from outside of the body politic.”

  “If I had any hope that was possible,” said Gregory, “I would be in your camp.”

  “As would I,” said Héctor.

  “And I,” added Miriam.

  “So you are all without hope?” August asked. “That seems a particularly poor place to start when you’re contemplating the launch of a new nation.”

  “Now you’re just engaging in rhetoric,” Miriam said.

  “Forgive me. It is a particular hazard of the profession.” He motioned toward Gregory. “You were saying you are without hope, I believe?”

  “My hope that this country was on a path to reason or enlightenment has been declining since the 2016 elections,” Gregory said. “This president has increased federal power, presidential power, and has shown how dangerous it is to concentrate such great power in few hands. Look at the repeal of the Twenty-Second Amendment, if you want proof.”

  “In fairness,” August said, “the repeal process went according to law, and the requisite number of states did vote to approve it. It was not a violation of law, by any standards.”

  “Maybe not, but—”

  “And California dutifully refused to ratify the repeal of the amendment, I should note.”

  “Yes, I know. I was there, and I voted no.”

  “As did I.”

  “As did seventy percent of the senate and almost sixty percent of the assembly. But enough states did vote to ratify, and the Amendment was repealed. Now a president can be elected to an unlimited number of terms. This president.”

  “Such is our democratic process,” August said. “If you honor the process, you have to accept the outcome.”

  “An outcome that has led to a tyrant president elected now to his fourth term, and a continued increase in executive powers.”

  “Once again, I must point out...elected by the people in a fair and legal election. Gregory, you cannot at once claim to believe in democracy and then decry the clearly stated will of the people, however misguided that will may be.”

  Gregory shook his head. “Any hopes I had dwindled to almost nothing when that man was inaugurated again last month. This country is no longer the nation I knew. It has become divided. People’s rights are being ignored. Power is more and more centralized. If that’s what the people of this country want, August, then I think that alone is a good reason for California to no longer be a part of it.”

  “We are not the only ones considering this,” Miriam said. “Hawaii and Alaska are further along in their discussions than we are. And Oregon and Washington aren’t far behind. If we move boldly, we can galvanize all five states. We can secede collectively, and form our own union
.”

  “The Pacific States of America?” August asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Unless a better name is proposed, yes. The name is not the point. The political clout is the point. With these other four states joining us, we wouldn’t appear to be a rogue state. And a united, coordinated move might represent enough strength to keep the federal government from taking any extreme actions.”

  “Or,” August argued, “larger stakes could provoke a larger response.”

  “We wouldn’t have to go it alone,” Gregory said. “We could petition to join Canada.”

  Who says they would want us? Alex suppressed a grin, remembering Governor Sarandon’s question.

  “If we petitioned Mexico instead,” Héctor said, “we might see Arizona and New Mexico join us.”

  “You might interest New Mexico, but Arizona has long been a red state,” August said.

  “The population there continues to change, and that political affiliation can change along with it,” Héctor said. “Who knows? But even with just New Mexico on board, we might be able sway Texas. There are legal ties between Texas and Mexico.”

  “Ties broken by revolution,” August argued. “In case you’ve forgotten, Texas seceded from Mexico and fought a bitter war to back up that action. Furthermore, the Lone Star Republic stood as its own nation for almost a decade before petitioning to join the United States.”

  “I know my history,” Héctor snapped.

  “Then you know that Texas subsequently seceded again fifteen years later, along with the other states of the Confederacy.” He smiled ironically. “Is that your point, Héctor? That Texas is a politically fickle state?”

  “No,” Héctor said. “But you’re making my point for me. Texas is an historical success story for exactly what we believe to be our most promising path – leaving one country and joining another.”

  August shook his head. “My fellow senators, you simply cannot mix and match your approach. If you wish to legally achieve separation, then you must strictly remain on that path. If you are relying on the concept of a natural right to revolution and proposing the equivalent of such, you cannot retroactively apply legal arguments to justify your actions. It is hypocritical to do so.”

  “It is messy,” agreed Miriam. “But it is what we are faced with. The White House has become more and more entrenched in political dogma each term. The New American Party has become the numerically dominant party in some states, and where it doesn’t have the numbers, it still wields majority-level influence. I don’t think I am being alarmist when I point to the obvious parallels to post-war Germany and the rise of another autocrat.”

  “Miriam!” August snapped. “You go too far!”

  “Do I?” She met his gaze, unflinching. “We all remember these comparisons were made early in his first term, back before the eventual stranglehold on the media. Back when the New American Party was referred to by the charming euphemism of the ‘Alt Right.’ It didn’t take learned history professors then to see some of the same dynamics taking place in our country as those that happened in pre-Nazi Germany.”

  August flinched at the word ‘Nazi’, as did James. “Might we retain some decorum, please? There is no need for such language.”

  “When did Nazi become the new ‘n’ word?” she asked, glancing almost apologetically at Gregory. He remained stone-faced.

  “When it became a political football for the radical left,” August answered. “And its meaning therefore corrupted.” He shook his head sadly. “I am not a fan of our president, Miriam. I am not a member of his party, and their numbers are thankfully still small in our state government. But I must point out to you once again that he was duly elected to his position. He did not usurp it, or use military force to secure it.”

  “Neither did Hitler, at first. Check your history.”

  “Really!” August turned to Alex, exasperated. “I thought the purpose this evening was reasonable discourse with an eye toward a solution to our impending crisis.”

  “It is.”

  “Well, you might reiterate that for some of your guests, Alex. It seems more like an opportunity for unbridled political demagoguery.” He leaned back, cradling his drink.

  Alex didn’t reply immediately. He often wondered how much of August’s Georgia-born affectation was genuine, but in the end, it did not matter. August was an effective speaker, and he held considerable sway with many senators and assembly members. Alex felt certain that Carl Young had already been to visit the venerable senator. In all likelihood, that was his veiled meaning when he said he wasn’t headed directly back to Washington, D.C.

  Alex had hoped for some form of progress this evening, but all that he had achieved was a restatement of positions, along with personality conflicts. He hadn’t brought his own influence to bear yet, but he knew better than to waste political capital on a losing situation. He would save his best efforts for when they would count most.

  “Senators,” he said, “I appreciate your candor, and your time. I don’t know that there is much more we can accomplish this evening. However, the Governor has asked each of you to join her and her top advisors tomorrow to discuss this further.”

  There was a rumbling among his guests.

  “Tomorrow?” August said. “Alex, I have engagements, as I’m sure do we all.”

  “I know. And I apologize for the short notice. The meeting has been scheduled for over a week.”

  “Why weren’t we told?”

  “Because up until five seconds ago, you weren’t invited.” He let his words sink in for a moment. Then he added, “I think it is fair for me to say that I am the Governor’s most trusted advisor when it comes to the legislative branch, and my advice to her will be for each of you to be present for a continuation of this discussion. Only you can properly represent your particular views, so if you want them represented, then I hope you will choose to be there.”

  The senators remained quiet for a few, long drawn out moments, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. Alex waited patiently, keeping his expression neutral.

  Finally, Miriam spoke. “I’ll be there. Thank you, Alex.”

  “I’ll come,” said Gregory.

  “Me, too,” said Héctor.

  August put his still unfinished drink on the table in front of him. “I will attend,” he said, speaking slowly and deliberately. “But I hope, Alex, that you will remember a very important fact.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You are a senator, sir. Elected by the people, to serve the people. True, the Governor is the Chief Executive, elected by those same people. But you are not a part of her staff, sir, and I wish to very pointedly remind you that in our system of government, separation of powers is an underlying concept that is meant to check and balance the power of any one branch. It is in the best interests of the people of this state that it remain so.” He rose to his feet. “I shall show myself out.”

  August performed his trademark gesture that was something more than a nod but markedly less than a bow, turned, and left the room. Gregory and Héctor stood, along with James. Each offered Alex a handshake as they filed out. Alex escorted them to the door, thanking them again.

  When he returned to the library, only Miriam remained. She stood at the small bar, pouring herself another drink. “That went decidedly worse than we’d hoped.”

  “And about as well as could be expected.” Alex wandered over to his chair, picked up his own drink and swirled the bourbon. “Sometimes I think critics of government have been right all along.”

  “How’s that?”

  “All talk and no progress,” he said, sitting down. As best that he could see, all of the board pieces were unmoved from when the game began.

  But the game isn’t over. Far from it.

  “I’ll say one thing for that pompous bastard,” Miriam said, turning around with a drink in her hand.

  “What?”

  She raised her glass, affecting the same stance and expression August had u
sed in his earlier apology. Her voice assumed an exaggerated, raspy drawl. “He sure knows how to make an exit, suh.”

  Alex chuckled lightly. “He does. Now, if only we can get our state to do the same.”

  Miriam settled into the chair opposite him. “Keep the faith, Alex. We’ll get there.”

  Yes, he thought, but when we do, what will there look like?

  He wasn’t sure he liked the possible answers that sprang to mind, but he washed them all away with another pull from his drink. Sometimes the best thing to do was to simply forge ahead, and do the right thing.

  Especially, he mused, if one is living in serious times.

  Chapter 10

  Freedom of the press was expressly listed in the United States Constitution in 1791 as part of the First Amendment, and along with other personal freedoms, became recognized as a critical element of a free society. And yet it came under assault within the first decade of its existence, beginning with the Alien and Sedition Act in 1798. The institution proved to be hardy, however, and survived, if bloody and battered some, even managing several brief, golden ages in print, radio, television, and ultimately internet journalism. But factionalism in the late 1900s led to readers beginning to seek out the fourth estate for confirmation, not information. This trend continued, and by the time the Internal Security Act was passed in 2023, only a small segment of the public seemed to care, because for most people, it wasn’t their news that was impacted.

  As a result, most politicians seem to have developed an even greater fear of speaking openly against the President and his New American Party. As the mainstream media became more and more complicit in serving the wishes of the administration, even innocuous, reasoned objections by an elected official could be portrayed very differently when reported by these outlets. This led to more and more of what was supposed to be public discourse taking place in private, unofficial settings.

  No historian would ever devalue or otherwise diminish the impact of such meetings, as they have often proved to be the lubrication that kept the system moving when broader, open meetings stalled. However, through much of United States history, these events served as exceptions, as satellite moons to the planet politic, rather than the norm.