Coronado’s Letter (“What I AM Sure Of Is This…”)

July 15, 2016June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

After Coronado gave up on the Seven Cities of Whatever, he penned a missive to the King summarizing his experiences and discoveries. Ask yourself what tone and intent are suggested by his choice of words nearly six centuries later.

The full letter, a classroom edit, and printable versions can be found here.

HOLY CATHOLIC CAESARIAN MAJESTY: On April 20 of this year I wrote to Your Majesty from this province of Tiguex, in reply to a letter from Your Majesty dated in Madrid, June 11 a year ago. I gave a detailed account of this expedition, which the viceroy of New Spain ordered me to undertake in Your Majesty’s name…

“Caesarian” here presumably means “like Caesar” rather than referring to the circumstances of his delivery at birth. Still, it does open up some humorous alternatives – “Your Royal Breechness,” “Divine Preemie-inence,” etc.

It’s also nice for those of us reading 500 years later that he essentially begins with “previously, on Coronado’s Journey…” I wonder if that was a formal norm or an acknowledgement that the King was a busy man and might have no idea who Coronado was or why he should remember him.

I described it all, and the sort of force I have, as Your Majesty had ordered me to relate in my letters; and stated that while I was engaged in the conquest and pacification of the natives of this province…

You know, because that’s what people do to kill time – conquer and pacify…

…some Indians who were natives of other provinces beyond these had told me that in their country there were much larger villages and better houses than those of the natives of this country, and that they had lords who ruled them, who were served with dishes of gold, and other very magnificent things; and although, as I wrote Your Majesty, I did not believe it before I had set eyes on it… {but it seemed} important that it should be investigated for Your Majesty’s service, I determined to go and see it with the men I have here…

Already this sounds like a desperate effort to cover his own behind, doesn’t it? “OK, so, here’s what happened and I totally didn’t believe them but then I was like, I totes owe it to the KING to check it out ANYWAY and so, like… no WAY this was my fault!”

After nine days’ march I reached some plains, so vast that I did not find their limit anywhere that I went, although I traveled over them for more than 300 leagues. And I found such a quantity of cows in these, of the kind that I wrote Your Majesty about, which they have in this country, that it is impossible to number them, for while I was journeying through these plains, until I returned to where I first found them, there was not a day that I lost sight of them.

Tatanka!

And after seventeen days’ march I came to a settlement of Indians who are called Querechos, who travel around with these cows, who do not plant, and who eat the raw flesh and drink the blood of the cows they kill, and they tan the skins of the cows, with which all the people of this country dress themselves here. They have little field tents made of the hides of the cows, tanned and greased, very well made, in which they live while they travel around near the cows, moving with these. They have dogs which they load, which carry their tents and poles and belongings. These people have the best figures of any that I have seen in the Indies…

That’s about as succinct a description as you could ask of life on the Great Plains – flat as far as you can see, nomadic natives, living in tipis and utilizing just about every part of the buffalo they hunted. The use of dog travois was common on the Plains as well.

The last part about their figures was not nearly so awkwardly suggestive as some of you wondered just now. These were different times, and Coronado is trying to be descriptive, and thorough. I kinda wonder if it also suggests a tendency to see the Querechos as interesting creatures in nature rather than real live individuals.

I traveled five days more as the guides wished to lead me, until I reached some plains, with no more landmarks than as if we had been swallowed up in the sea, where they strayed about, because there was not a stone, nor a bit of rising ground, nor a tree, nor a shrub, nor anything to go by. There is much very fine pasture land, with good grass.
And while we were lost in these plains, some horsemen who went off to hunt cows fell in with some Indians who also were out hunting, who are enemies of those that I had seen in the last settlement, and of another sort of people who are called Teyas; they have their bodies and faces all painted, are a large people like the others, of a very good build; they eat the raw flesh just like the Querechos, and live and travel round with the cows in the same way as these. I obtained from these an account of the country where the guides were taking me, which was not like what they had told me, because these made out that the houses there were not built of stones, with stories, as my guides had described it, but of straw and skins, and a small supply of corn there…

Texans with painted bodies and faces? Must have been on their way to a college football game. This was the first sign of trouble with their journey to “Quivira” which couldn’t be ignored to accommodate avarice.

It seemed to me best, in order to see if there was anything there of service to Your Majesty, to go forward with only 30 horsemen until I should be able to see the country, so as to give Your Majesty a true account of what was to be found in it… And with only the 30 horsemen whom I took for my escort, I traveled forty-two days after I left the force, living all this while solely on the flesh of the bulls and cows which we killed, at the cost of several of our horses… and going many days without water, and cooking the food with cow dung, because there is not any kind of wood in all these plains, away from the gullies and rivers, which are very few.

I love the subtle reminder that Coronado was not, of course, doing any of this for himself, but for the King. It also says something about the size of the group with which he normally traveled that going on with 30 guys was really stripping it down to a skeleton crew.

And perhaps I’m reading too much into what is, after all, a modern translation of a centuries-old letter in another language, but I sense his frustration leaking through already – “there was not a stone, nor a bit of rising ground, nor a tree…” and “cooking… with cow dung, because THERE ARE NO #@$%ING TREES OR TWIGS OR PICTURES OF TREES SO $%&@ IT WE’LL JUST USE POO!! THAT’S RIGHT – WE’RE COOKING WITH POO!!”

It was the Lord’s pleasure that, after having journeyed across these deserts seventy-seven days, I arrived at the province they call Quivira, to which the guides were conducting me, and where they had described to me houses of stone, with many stories; and not only are they not of stone, but of straw, but the people in them are as barbarous as all those whom I have seen and passed before this; they do not have cloaks, nor cotton of which to make these, but use the skins of the cattle they kill, which they tan, because they are settled among these on a very large river…
The people here are large. I had several Indians measured, and found that they were 10 palms in height; the women are well proportioned and their features are more like Moorish women than Indians. The natives here gave me a piece of copper which a chief Indian wore hung around his neck; I sent it to the viceroy of New Spain, because I have not seen any other metal in these parts except this and some little copper bells which I sent him, and a bit of metal which looks like gold. I do not know where this came from…

His disappointment is palpable, but it’s not the full-blown disgust and frustration we’re going to see further down. The sad desperation of sending a lone copper necklace to the viceroy almost breaks my heart for Coronado. The years, the hope, and the depravations endured… for a copper necklace of unknown origin.

The province of Quivira is 950 leagues from Mexico. Where I reached it, it is in the fortieth degree. The country itself is the best I have ever seen for producing all the products of Spain, for besides the land itself being very fat and black and being very well watered by the rivulets and springs and rivers, I found prunes like those of Spain and nuts and very good sweet grapes and mulberries.

“So, your Majesty, the trip was pretty much a bust in terms of riches and gold and such. But OMG if you could have seen the PRUNES! So, um… can you maybe, like, not be too mad about the gold? Because… prunes?”

Here’s my favorite part.

I have treated the natives of this province, and all the others whom I found wherever I went, as well as was possible, agreeably to what Your Majesty had commanded, and they have received no harm in any way from me or from those who went in my company…

“…as well as was possible…”

What a wonderfully cautious bit of self-justification.

And what I am sure of is that there is not any gold nor any other metal in all that country, and the other things of which they had told me are nothing but little villages, and in many of these they do not plant anything and do not have any houses except of skins and sticks, and they wander around with the cows; so that the account they gave me was false, because they wanted to persuade me to go there with the whole force, believing that as the way was through such uninhabited deserts, and from the lack of water, they would get us where we and our horses would die of hunger…

I can’t help but see his pen jabbing at his paper, Coronado muttering to himself as he scribbles his frustration within the confines of acceptability to one’s sovereign…

“One thing IS for SURE, however… There’s. No. $#%&ing. Gold. Or. Metal. Or. Any. Thing. Else. $%#*. !@*%&%. #%&*TW#@&%@#$!!@# In. This. #$&@Y$@. Land.”

It’s here we see the first written expression of perhaps the single greatest conflict between white guys and the red guys over the next four centuries.

“They don’t plant anything… and they wander around with the cows…”

To the average European, nature is there to be subdued. Reworked. Made into your b*tch.

To the average Amerindian on the Great Plains, nature is there to be understood. Utilized. Perhaps a bit revered.

They were not starry-eyed environmentalists as some would have them portrayed, but they certainly asked for different things out of life than the typical white guy. The first bewildered, annoyed record of this realization comes from the European perspective comes from Coronado, right here.

It didn’t bode well for future white-guy / red-guy relations.

RELATED POST: Turkin’ Back And Forth

Turkin’ Back and Forth

July 14, 2016June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

I previously asserted that History is, by definition, a written record of the past. By that definition, the history of Oklahoma began in 1540 and Francisco Vásquez de Coronado was its first historian.

He set out to find untold riches by following rumors of lavish cities inhabited by wondrous people. His exact route is debatable, but he seems to have started north from what is now Mexico and traveled into New Mexico and/or Arizona in search of these “Seven Cities of Cibola.”

He got into a few scraps with the locals, but his journey was otherwise unexciting until he encountered a young man the Spanish quickly nicknamed “The Turk.”

The Turk, most likely a Wichita or Pawnee, assured Coronado that the real treasures were to be found in “Quivira,” far to the east. He offered to lead them there, and each time they encountered other tribes the Turk would communicate with them briefly before they, too, would eagerly insist that “Quivira” was totally the place to be and begin using signs and making other vigorous efforts at communication to indicate that the riches there were impressive indeed – in a no-sense-waiting-‘round-here-you-prolly-wanna-get-going kinda way.

What follows is a fairly accurate transcription of my total guesswork as to what these conversations must have been like – never before published on a major education blog.

Turk (to NewTribeGuys): Hey, I guess you probably noticed the, um, conquistadors and hundreds of soldiers and thousands of ‘allies’ just behind me here…
NewTribeGuys (to Turk): Why are you pointing? Are you trying to trick us into looking behind us? That’s completely lame.
Turk (to NewTribeGuys): I realize you don’t know me, but you’re gonna want to trust me on this. These guys are looking for Quivira, a city of gold and other untold riches and topless virgins and whatnot. Now, turn and point the same direction I am so it looks convincing. Maybe nod a bit and tell me with enthusiasm that we’re on the right track.
NewTribeGuys (to Turk): The hell are you talking about? There’s no ‘city of gold’ or whatever in that direction, or any other for that matter. Why did you bring these people here?!
Turk (to Cornado): He says we’re on the right track and honors the great Coronado on his amazing journey!
Turk (to NewTribeGuys): Look, you see how many tense foreign-looking fellows are behind me? Think about them eating your food. Taking your goods. Forcing themselves on your women. It’s not pretty, brother – I’ve seen it. Several times, actually. Now either get all excited about how close we are to Quivira or go ahead and bring out your daughters and stew because they’re starting to get restless.
NewTribeGuys (look at Coronado and his men, back at Turk, at Coronado and his men, back at Turk, and murmur briefly to one another)
NewTribeGuys (loudly, to Turk, Coronado, the rest of their tribe, and most of the neighbors): Ooohh, yes – Quivira! The one (gesturing dramatically) way over that way! Yes, yes – you’re very close! We thought you’d said you were looking for, um… Chi Berra, the famous atlatl maker. He, of course, is the other direction entirely. But not Quivira – nope, that crazy city and its golden virgins or whatever are ACTUALLY RATHER NEAR! (more gesturing)
Turk (to Coronado): They say it’s this way.

This worked for a ridiculously long time, despite being a rather obvious ploy. Unfortunately, it relied heavily on the cooperation of strangers. Eventually, one of the tribes they encountered – the Teyas, an intriguing name later given to a future state whose name escapes me at the moment – started letting Coronado know that they had no idea what this Turk lad was talking about, and that he wasn’t even translating properly.

Despite his suspicions, Coronado let “The Turk” lead him all the way to what is now Wichita, Kansas, where they found Quivira. That part, at least was true.

It was not a city of gold, however, so much as a village of farmers living in grass huts. They were alarmingly tall for Indians, and very close to naked most of the time. Untold riches, though? Not so much.

Coronado spent several weeks hoping perhaps they were, somehow, close to some cities of gold if only he’d poke around a bit more, but finally reconciled himself to the truth – he’d been had.

Coronado ordered that the Turk be garroted – the thing you see in action movies when they strangle someone with wire. To be fair, he had fibbed rather extensively and wasted months of their time, not to mention substantial resources. His sacrifice had not been in vain, at least – he’d led Coronado and crew far, far from his own people and their homes.

Coronado took a different route back to Tiguex in what is now New Mexico, where he wrote a letter to the King of Spain, dated October 20, 1541. It’s arguably the first written record of Oklahoma, and rich in both tone and detail. As primary sources go, it’s golden.

Unlike, say… Quivira.

Coronado went home frustrated and weakened after several armed conflicts and a serious fall from his horse along the way. He lost his fortune and much of his honor and died in 1554 – which I get is a total downer.

But while he’d hardly draw much comfort from it, he was the first Oklahoma Historian and a generally fine observer and record-keeper of much of the geography, the people, the wildlife, and the tribulations of the American Southwest in the 16th century.

There’s no record whether he ever got back that nifty copper necklace.

Coronado (Why Don’t You Come To Your Senses?)

July 13, 2016June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

History, by definition, is written down. This is not an knock against archeology, anthropology, oral histories, or any other efforts to unravel the past – it’s just a definition.

Consequently, prior to European exploration, everything we know about what is now Oklahoma is technically “pre-history.” This is important because I’m about to insist that the History of Oklahoma began in 1540 with the arrival of a conquistador by the name of Francisco Vásquez de Coronado, and I don’t want to sound, you know – Eurocentric or dismissive of pre-literate peoples or anything. I like to think of myself as quite culturally sensitive and stuff.

There are other places we could begin, of course. Unlike with people, the “birth” of Oklahoma is not an objectively established event. We could place its beginnings way back with the earliest fossil records, although that leaves us with a rather broad range of possible dates – as in, “the earliest Oklahomans settled the land sometime between 50,000 and 100,000,000 years ago…”

So, that’s unfulfilling.

Indian Removal (1830s) is arguably the beginning of Oklahoma as we now know it, despite the massive changes which followed only a generation later. That’s not where we begin in class, but it’s where we slow down enough to start paying attention.

The first Land Run (1889) is certainly one of the more colorful events in our collective past, and far less depressing than most – at least if you don’t look too closely. This is when the first ‘Oklahoma’ lands were legally opened to white settlement, so claiming it as our “day of birth” has a certain logic to it. Then again, that would mean coming to peace with the suggestion it’s not really history until white people show up.

Which I can’t.

Statehood (1907) would be an obvious choice, I suppose – but again with the white guys. Economically one might argue that for all intents and purposes Oklahoma truly began with the oil boom, another “date range” event – although surely we could agree the Glenn Pool (1905) was the catalyst for all the rest. But the 20th century? Really? That would make us babies, historically speaking.

So I choose to be literal and insist that the History of Oklahoma began in 1540 with the arrival of a conquistador by the name of Francisco Vásquez de Coronado. He led an expedition which wandered through part of what is now far-western Oklahoma. Significantly, for our purposes, he and some of those with him left written records of their thoughts and experiences as they traveled – the first recorded “history” of the area.

The Spanish may have been the first to write about this little section of the universe, but they were hardly the first to encounter it. Various Amerindians had lived in or traveled across the Great Plains for centuries – maybe millennia. There were hundreds of different tribal identifications, and a far greater variety of cultures than we usually acknowledge. It’s really quite fascinating, if you’re into that sort of thing.

And they all came from somewhere else.

Based on the evidence we have now, mankind – such as it is – started far away from here. If the Lord created Adam and Eve and placed them in a tangible Garden of Eden, He did so WAY across the world – probably in Iran or thereabouts. If man evolved from single-celled protozoa, into a fish, then a goat, then a monkey, etcetera, he did so WAY across the world – most likely the Middle East and/or Northern Africa.

There was spawning and diffusion, like there always is, and at some point a bunch of them walked across the Bering Strait (the ancient land bridge between Russia and Alaska) and spread across the Western Hemisphere. It would have taken a while. There may have been multiple cultures arriving over time, or they may have diversified over the centuries once here. In any case, the Amerindian tribes covering this half of the world before the Europeans showed up were quite a diverse bunch.

Again – good stuff if you’re into that sort of thing and wish to study it further. People do.

One of the big questions among American historians is just how many Amerindians were here before Columbus showed up and brought all of Europe as his ‘plus one.’ War and disease and such killed, well… a bunch of the native population, but whether that means a quarter, a third, or ninety-nine percent is in serious dispute.

The answer matters, and not merely for statistical precision – historians are still trying to figure out if the arrival of white guys simply sped the decline of cultures who’d have eventually evolved or vanished anyway, or whether 1492 marked the onset of not-entirely-unintentional genocide. It’s an ethical question as much as a historical, political, or social issue.

Not that Coronado was wrestling with such abstractions in 1540.

It had been less than a half-century since Columbus sailed the ocean blue and stumbled across this little roadblock to India. The British seemed in no hurry to settle the new continent – Jamestown was established in 1607, Plymouth in 1620, and the Puritans started arriving around 1630. Spain, however, wasted little time making their presence felt across Central America and Southwestern North America.

In 1520, Hernán Cortés led the overthrow of the Aztec Empire in what is now Mexico. By 1532, Francisco Pizarro helped bring about the destruction of the Incas in Peru. In both cases, Spanish conquistadors had discovered complex civilizations and unmeasurable wealth. In both cases, the reality of their experiences dramatically exceeded rumors or expectations.

It was thus not particularly ridiculous for Coronado to go looking for untold riches or follow rumors of lavish cities inhabited by wondrous people. He set out in February of 1540 to do just that.

Conquistadors didn’t like to do anything on a modest scale, so Coronado took along 400 armed men and over a thousand Mexican-Indian “allies”. That many people meant livestock, food wagons, and innumerable other supplies in tow, making for quite the logistical monstrosity.

His exact route is debatable, but he seems to have started north from what is now Mexico and traveled into New Mexico and/or Arizona in search of the “Seven Cities of Cibola.” He got into a few scraps with the locals, but his journey was otherwise unexciting until he encountered a young man the Spanish quickly nicknamed “The Turk.”

RELATED POST: Turkin’ Back and Forth

The Oklahoma Constitution (Part Four)

May 10, 2016June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

I’ve been working my way through the Oklahoma Constitution, and it’s as much work as I’d feared. We may have to fast-forward a bit so I can be finished before the elections!

You can read my Introduction in Part One and my brilliant analysis of Articles I & II in Part Two. We made it through Articles III, IV, and V in Part Three – mostly talking about the powers of the Legislature.

Time for the other two branches, and then some.

Section VI-1: Executive officers enumerated – Offices and records – Duties.
A. The Executive authority of the state shall be vested in a Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Secretary of State, State Auditor and Inspector, Attorney General, State Treasurer, Superintendent of Public Instruction, Commissioner of Labor, Commissioner of Insurance and other officers provided by law and this Constitution, each of whom shall keep his office and public records, books and papers at the seat of government, and shall perform such duties as may be designated in this Constitution or prescribed by law.

The Superintendent of Public Instruction is specifically mentioned in the very first paragraph of Article VI, the Executive Department. There are only eight other offices called out by name here, two of which are the Governor and Lieutenant Governor.

That suggests that public education is not only a potential function of state government, but an expected, demanded, prioritized function of this state’s government. It’s not charity, or governmental overreach, or some sort of New Age liberal plot to subvert the REAL values of the state. It’s one of SEVEN functions, along with things like State Treasurer and Commissioner of Labor, to be named specifically in the State Constitution as part of the Executive Branch.

We’re SUPPOSED to prioritize public education, along with those other things. It’s in our constitution, unlike many of the things people undercutting schools are prioritizing instead – often in the name of ‘fidelity’ to founding values.

The rest of Article V is about the logistics of elections, vetoing or signing legislation, and creating a few other commissions and positions necessary to keep things running. Nothing too exciting.

Articles VI & VII establish the court system and how judges are chosen. This one has changed quite a bit since the original, but none of that is particularly relevant here. So let’s move on, shall we?

Article VIII is about impeachment of state officials. Entertaining, I know, but also not what we’re looking for at the moment.

Article IX is about Corporations. It establishes a sort of ‘mandatory cooperation’ between completing railroads, pipelines, telegraph and telephone companies, etc. – things which might be considered essential public services.

There’s a real ‘love/hate’ relationship with railroads which is amusing. Article IX, Paragraph 13 prohibits railroads from giving free rides to anyone (presumably to prevent buying political or business favors this way), EXCEPT…

…its employees and their families, its officers, agents, surgeons, physicians, and attorneys at law; to ministers of religion, traveling secretaries for railroad Young Men’s Christian Associations, inmates of hospitals and charitable and eleemosynary institutions and persons exclusively engaged in charitable and eleemosynary work; to indigent, destitute and homeless persons, and to such persons when transported by charitable societies or hospitals, and the necessary agents employed in such transportations; to inmates of the National Homes, or State Homes for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers, and of Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Homes, including those about to enter and those returning home after discharge, and boards of managers of such Homes;
to members of volunteer fire departments and their equipage, while traveling as such; to necessary caretakers of livestock, poultry, and fruit; to employees of sleeping cars, of express cars, and to linemen of telegraph and telephone companies; to Railway Mail Service employees, post office inspectors, customs inspectors, and immigration inspectors;
to newsboys on trains, baggage agents, witnesses attending any legal investigation in which the railroad company or transportation company is interested, persons injured in wrecks, and physicians and nurses attending such persons… {or anyone} providing relief in cases of general epidemic, pestilence, or other calamitous visitation…

OK, this has nothing to do with public education. But it amuses me nonetheless, for at least three reasons.

1. Our state constitution has a long list specifically delineating precisely to whom railroads are allowed to give free rides. That’s messed up in ways I can’t even elucidate properly.

2. I had to look up “eleemosynary.” It means “of, relating to, or dependent on charity.” I wonder what distinguished “eleemosynary institutions” from “charitable societies” in the language of the day? It’s also interesting that we used to value taking care of people, albeit through the filter of private companies giving them free transportation. It’s at least indirectly promoted via foundational legalese.

3. I love the phrase “general epidemic, pestilence, or other calamitous visitation.” Not sure what they had in mind, but at least we’d be able to ride the train for free.

“Calamitous visitation” – *shiver* – !!!

Article IX goes on to establish the state Corporation Commission, which regulates industries determined to be ‘public services’ – utilities, transportation, oil & gas, telephone, etc. When we study the Populist Party of the late 19th Century and I ask about lingering impacts, this one counts as a really good answer.

There are a lot of details here. The Commission is given substantial powers, and even its own internal court system for punishing wrongdoers.

It was a very regulate-y time, one of substantial distrust towards both government and big business. The authors of our state constitution wanted to do whatever they could to provide protection for individual citizens against money and power.

The very existence of a Corporation Commission – written not simply into law, but into Oklahoma’s freakishly detailed Constitution – strongly suggests that a primary function of state government is to regulate and supervise industry in such a way as to ensure that profits and growth are balanced by the public good.

Let me say that again.

Written into our state’s founding document are extensive guidelines seeking to ensure that big businesses don’t use their power and status to take advantage of the little people. Granted, the primary concern was that they’d overcharge for poor service, but it nevertheless runs contrary to the sort of ‘free market’ ideal we hear trotted out ’round these parts lately. In it, Adam Smith and his Eve, Ayn Rand, are tempted by the Serpent of Giving-A-Damn-About-Anyone-Other-Than-Yourself to partake of the Fruit of Socialism, from whose juices flow only sweet, sugary destruction.

But… in such a brutally laissez-faire ideal, problems like those the Corporation Commission was created to address are self-correcting. If you don’t like the conditions at the train station, don’t take the train. If you don’t like the taste of the water, don’t drink the water. Unhappy with fracking and earthquakes? Dip into your secondary 401K and spend more time at your ancestral villa in Rome.

It seems our state’s framers knew that sometimes the power of capitalism, for all its wonders, requires a balancing power looking out for the collective good. Sometimes the market which is so good at producing amazing phone options or gluten-free Oreos doesn’t do a very good job of making sure there’s nothing weird in Tonya’s gas, or that the electric company doesn’t charge more in areas which tend to have more outages due to weather. So, they tried at the foundational level to balance growth and profit and corporate freedom with the practical needs of a thriving populace.

That’s not Socialism. That’s a primary function of state government. Capitalism can flourish without morphing into unfettered Darwinism. If we can avoid creating mobs of the Factionless and Disenfranchised, it might flourish BETTER.

“States’ rights” isn’t about the elimination of all functions of government; states’ rights is an argument that the states can and should be doing many of those functions better than the federal government. Historically this has led to some major problems related to civil liberties, but that in no way eliminates each state’s obligation to maintain a DMV or support public schools. The current faux patriotism of ‘to hell with basic government functions’ is misguided at best, and delusional beyond measure.

There’s even a hint that government oversight and protection has room to grow:

Section IX-25: Reports and recommendations.
The Commission shall make annual reports to the Governor of its proceedings, in which reports it shall recommend, from time to time, such new or additional legislation in reference to its powers or duties, or the creation, supervision, regulation or control of corporations, or to the subject of taxation, as it may deem wise or expedient, or as may be required by law.

Growth of government as a founding Oklahoma principle. Who would have guessed?

Here’s a bit from Paragraph 34 I found interesting:

The provisions of this Article shall always be so restricted in their application as not to conflict with any of the provisions of the Constitution of the United States, and as if the necessary limitations upon their interpretation had been herein expressed in each case.

It should go without saying – whatever the subject covered in a state constitution – that subsequent supporting legislation cannot conflict with THE Constitution.

I’ll spare you my rant on THAT for the moment.

Section IX-40: Influencing elections or official duty.
No corporation organized or doing business in this State shall be permitted to influence elections or official duty by contributions of money or anything of value.

How did we NOT include out-of-state “think tanks” in this?! Oh, right – those weren’t a thing back then.

Next: Revenue & Taxation, State & School Lands, Homestead Exemptions, and – finally – Common Education. I know, right?! GET READY.

RELATED LINK: The Oklahoma Constitution (Part One)

RELATED LINK: The Oklahoma Constitution (Part Two)

RELATED LINK: The Oklahoma Constitution (Part Three)

RELATED LINK: The Blaine Game (Updated)

The Oklahoma Constitution (Part Three)

April 29, 2016June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

I’ve been working my way through the Oklahoma Constitution. Many current legislators insist rather dramatically that they’re defending the values and requirements therein, so I figured it was time I looked a bit more closely to see just what those are. You can read my Introduction in Part One and my brilliant analysis of Articles I & II in Part Two.

Article III is about suffrage and elections. No real surprises here.

Article IV is very brief:

The powers of the government of the State of Oklahoma shall be divided into three separate departments: The Legislative, Executive, and Judicial; and except as provided in this Constitution, the Legislative, Executive, and Judicial departments of government shall be separate and distinct, and neither shall exercise the powers properly belonging to either of the others.

OK, then.

Article V is not very brief. In the U.S. Constitution, the first and longest section is devoted to the Legislative Branch. Article V reflects a similar concern with the state version of the same.

Section V-1: Legislature – Authority and composition – Powers reserved to people.
The Legislative authority of the State shall be vested in a Legislature, consisting of a Senate and a House of Representatives; but the people reserve to themselves the power to propose laws and amendments to the Constitution and to enact or reject the same at the polls independent of the Legislature, and also reserve power at their own option to approve or reject at the polls any act of the Legislature.

This mindset was a precursor to the Progressive Era and its Amendments – the 16th, 17th, 18th, and 19th. Basically, there was a concern that government at all levels was too far removed from ‘the people.’ Various reforms gave voters more direct input on who was elected and what changes could be made – recalls, referendums, etc.

This language reflects that. “We’re about to outline your authority,” it says, “but keep in mind we can trump you at any time – so don’t let yourself get TOO far removed from what we sent you up there to do.”

The other option, of course, is to simply run against the existing legislature en masse. Heh.

The next several paragraphs detail referendums and other powers of ‘the people’ directly – before even discussing the actual Legislature.

This bit is interesting:

Section V-7: Powers of Legislature not affected.
The reservation of the powers of the initiative and referendum in this article shall not deprive the Legislature of the right to repeal any law, propose or pass any measure, which may be consistent with the Constitution of the State and the Constitution of the United States.

This clarifies that the rights of the people to do stuff directly doesn’t limit the legislature’s authority to do ITS job, but that’s not the interesting part. It’s that latter half, which suggests that our State Legislators are expected to limit themselves to acts consistent with the U.S. Constitution.

That’s important in a decade during which we repeatedly introduce, debate, and occasionally pass state laws which are undeniably doomed once challenged in the courts. We spend hundreds of thousands of dollars fighting for the right to return to the 19th century.

This is arguably evil as much as fiscally idiotic, but it’s also specifically prohibited by the exact Constitution those pushing untenable laws claim to defend with such froth and drama.

The next several paragraphs – updated since the original – are less exciting. They detail how Senate and House Districts will be established, requirements for running for state office, blah blah blah.

Our state legislature is limited to meeting from February through May, other than a few housekeeping duties which begin just prior. There are deadlines and limits throughout those four months, presumably designed to not only bring some order to the chaos, but to limit how much damage they can do in a given year.

So that part could have worked out better.

Section V-33: Revenue bills – Origination – Amendment – Limitations on passage – Effective date – Submission to voters.
A. All bills for raising revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives. The Senate may propose amendments to revenue bills.
B. No revenue bill shall be passed during the five last days of the session.

That’s the original language of Article V, Paragraph 33, and it’s still there. The first subsection echoes the U.S. Constitution and the second suggests a concern that lawmakers might ‘sneak in’ unpopular taxes ‘at the last minute’ and then adjourn before anyone could protest.

This concern was expanded by State Question 640, a citizen-initiated measure of the sort so warmly defended earlier in Article V. It passed by vote of the people in 1992, and added this language:

C. Any revenue bill originating in the House of Representatives shall not become effective until it has been referred to the people of the state at the next general election held throughout the state…
D. Any revenue bill originating in the House of Representatives may become law without being submitted to a vote of the people of the state if such bill receives the approval of three-fourths (3/4) of the membership of the House of Representatives and three-fourths (3/4) of the membership of the Senate and is submitted to the Governor for appropriate action…

In other words, as of 1992, tax increases can only become law through a direct vote of the people OR by being approved by 3/4 vote of both the House and the Senate before being signed by the Governor. This has happened exactly once in the nearly 25 years since –tobacco taxes were increased in 2004.

This has caused untold grief since oil prices crashed. Due to previously passed legislation, the tax cuts for top earners across the state keep waterfalling at preplanned intervals, despite little evidence they’re producing all of that ‘prosperity’ used to justify them in the first place. When anyone suggests perhaps we could slow down on that a bit until we’re no longer feeding on the weak and the young, our legislature cries with hands upraised – “What can we do?! It’s… it’s… AGAINST THE RULES!”

What they mean is that it’s damn inconvenient for them to do what’s right. That’s not the same thing.

Starting in Paragraph 37, we start to get to powers of the State Legislature as specifically delineated by the framers. This would be comparable to Article I, Section 8, in the U.S. Constitution. For once, however, there are FEWER specifics than in its federal counterpart.

The state can establish a state printing plant and hire a state printer. The state must establish a Geological and Economic Survey. It must create a Board of Health, Board of Dentistry, Board of Pharmacy, and a Pure Food Commission. The Legislature shall provide for organizing, disciplining, arming, maintaining, and equipping the Militia of the State. It may also enact laws authorizing cities to pension meritorious and disabled firemen.

Um… I’m in NO WAY anti-firemen, but isn’t that a strangely specific provision? That’s not something added later to appease an influential Congressman or honor a special interest group. It’s in the original.

There follows a long list of things the State Legislature CAN’T do – this one LONGER than its counterpart in the U.S. Constitution (Article I, Section 9). Most of them pertain to local vs. state control on particular issues. I’m not familiar enough with things like adoption law or polling regulations to know if any of these are unusual.

On the other hand, here’s one I’ve learned to hate:

Section V-58: Time of taking effect of statutes – Emergency measures.
No act shall take effect until ninety days after the adjournment of the session at which it was passed… unless, in case of emergency, to be expressed in the act, the Legislature, by a vote of two-thirds of all members elected to each House, so directs. An emergency measure shall include only such measures as are immediately necessary for the preservation of the public peace, health, or safety…

If you’ve ever researched proposed legislation, you’ve discovered that the vast majority of bills conclude with a declaration of emergency as described above.

We’d like to tweak the A-F School District Shaming System by juggling a few phrases, and ohyeahbytheway – THIS IS AN EMERGENCY AND IMMEDIATELY NECESSARY FOR THE PRESERVATION OF THE PUBLIC PEACE, HEALTH, AND SAFETY.

We should put the alternative certification process for Oklahoma teachers under the purview of the “Office of Educational Quality and Accountability”, which of course MUST BE AN EMERGENCY AND IMMEDIATELY NECESSARY FOR THE PRESERVATION OF THE PUBLIC PEACE, HEALTH, AND SAFETY.

I’d like to modify the reporting procedures for districts complying with such and such obscure statutes and no one knows why we’re doing it anyway except that THIS IS AN EMERGENCY AND IMMEDIATELY NECESSARY FOR THE PRESERVATION OF THE PUBLIC PEACE, HEALTH, AND SAFETY.

Here’s why this bugs me so much.

Common usage of this ‘EMERGENCY’ clause means that, as a matter of course, legislators are practically required to cynically manipulate the language of everything they propose or support – in clear contrast to the intent of the Constitution – just to get stuff done. In other words, it’s a given that they can’t really mean everything they’re saying or passing. We just kinda have to do it this way because… the system.

Maybe that’s a small thing, like not reading User Agreements before you ‘Accept’ them, or signing off on paperwork from meetings you didn’t even attend, but it seems to me an unfortunate symbol of cynicism and dishonesty becoming normalized. Banal, even.

No matter how idealistic a new legislator may be, they first time she writes a bill or casts a vote, she’s agreeing to a ‘wink wink nudge nudge’ bit of game-playing of the sort we all say we hate in politics. He’s calling something what it is NOT in order to get what he wants.

It’s only a little leaven, of course. Just a small manipulation – a pragmatic lie. But the storybooks tell us those initial compromises start us down a path which never ends well.

I fear history agrees.

RELATED LINK: The Oklahoma Constitution (Part One)

RELATED LINK: The Oklahoma Constitution (Part Two)

RELATED LINK: The Oklahoma Constitution (Part Four)

RELATED LINK: The Blaine Game (Updated)