The great and worthy goal of Cornell Law School is to produce “lawyers in the best sense.” Those of us seeking to be admitted to the New York Bar must swear an oath to support the Constitution of the United States of America. Perhaps, for some, this solemn promise is a mere formality, something they have to do so they can make a six-figure starting salary. But when, as now, the rule of law itself is threatened, Cornell cannot afford to produce lawyers who would support, or accept, a fascist government’s lawless rule. New York does not need lawyers who would cast aside the Constitution in the name of political expediency, cynicism or cowardice.
It is tempting to rationalize disputes over the current administration’s actions as routine political squabbling, to pretend that polite disagreement remains an option. Whatever value that position may have had was lost when Donald Trump, JD Vance and Elon Musk began extra-constitutionally dismantling agencies created by Congress, refusing to respect this co-equal branch’s power of the purse, firing public servants who by statute were granted for-cause protection and openly flirting with ignoring the orders of our courts.
It is this last affront to our democracy that eclipses all others. If you’ve been waiting for the proverbial red line, here it is. At Cornell Law School, the very first case we are assigned to read in our first-year course on the Constitution is Marbury v. Madison. This opinion, written in 1803, makes clear that “it is emphatically the duty of the Judicial Department to say what the law is.” Just as the Constitution vests in Congress the duty to create law, and in the president the duty to faithfully execute it, it leaves to the judiciary the duty to have the final say on the meaning of the laws they interpret.
In Great Britain, Marbury explains, “the King himself… never fails to comply with the judgment of his court.” We will have fallen remarkably low if we can no longer say of our president what early Americans could say of a foreign king. One might imagine that the Cornell student chapter of the Federalist Society, or other conservative members of our community who ostensibly support history and tradition, would be sounding the alarms, zealously defending this foundational decision that has informed Constitutional practice since the start of our nation. To be clear, there are conservative attorneys who faithfully execute their Constitutional and professional obligations at great personal cost. But that just underscores how absurd it is that any of my peers can stay silent, or worse, supportive, while a Yale-educated lawyer like Vance, himself a member of FedSoc, proudly threatens that the executive branch will simply disregard adverse Supreme Court rulings. This understanding of separation of powers would be concerning coming from a first-year law student who had neglected to do their readings. Coming from a sitting vice president, it constitutes treason. To quote Marbury once more, while citing cases still means something, “[t]he distinction between a government with limited and unlimited powers is abolished if those limits do not confine the person on whom they are imposed.”
The conclusion is unavoidable: Any law student who would accept the usurpation of the Judiciary’s power to interpret the law is unfit to be called “a lawyer in the best sense.” They are, in fact, ineligible to become a member of the New York Bar. Of course, Americans should disagree — vigorously and often — about what is best for our country. The Constitution itself is a flawed document, as those who study it will tell you. In many ways, its failings brought us to this terrible precipice. But as a bulwark against tyranny, it is infinitely preferable to the whims of one man. To reject that principled system in favor of the machinations of a lawless executive is to disavow America’s founding ideals altogether. It is nothing short of a declaration that revolution was necessary against the United States itself. Those who support that radical step should have the decency to stop calling themselves patriots. They should be forewarned that no revolution against America will be bloodless.
Participation in this society requires an understanding that the Constitution outranks the president. No political victory or cultural disagreement can justify support for this administration’s willingness to disregard Constitutional mandates. The American experiment cannot outlive its Constitution. I stand with those of you who are ready to fight for this precious inheritance. Presidents have ignored the courts before, straining our republic to its breaking point. In 1832, then-president Andrew Jackson — a role model for Vance — refused to respect the Supreme Court’s decision in Worcester v. Georgia declaring the Cherokee a sovereign people, enabling the Trail of Tears. At the start of the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln suspended the Writ of Habeas Corpus without congressional authorization and refused to respect the Supreme Court’s order in Ex parte Merryman to produce a prisoner held by the Union army. These examples reflect the genocidal evil and wartime chaos that attends the breakdown of our Constitutional system. They are specters to be avoided, not examples to be followed. As a law student, it is frustrating to read op-eds that declare ignoring the courts would ignite a “Constitutional crisis.” Though true, this language lacks clarity. So let us be clear: the moment the executive branch begins to ignore the judiciary’s orders, we are no longer a republic, but a dictatorship. It is not just a Constitutional crisis, but the death of the Constitution itself. This erosion of checks and balances would open the door for a government where power is wielded with no regard for precedent or principle. Once such powers are relinquished, they are not easily reclaimed. Make no mistake, this is not a fight to preserve a political party or even a particular set of policies. This is a fight to preserve the very idea of America: a government of laws and not of men.
I am proud to say that many, even most, of my peers at Cornell Law School believe in American democracy. They believe in our Constitutional order, warts and all. Of course, our legal system is an adversarial one. We practice and train to vigorously and zealously advance our clients’ interests. Defending controversial positions cannot be taboo. But like Trump, some of my classmates, I fear, see the law as a naked game of power, where the board is tipped over when the rules say you’ve lost. Such carelessness with the fate of the country I love, and will not leave, is maddening. The rule of law is a delicate thing. Like the value of currency, its vitality depends upon the public’s perception. As we approach what may be the most critical period in American history since the Civil War, I advise my fellow law students and my fellow citizens: Decide now what you are willing to risk for this nation. If this administration does what it says it will do, will you defend the rule of law, as set forth in the Constitution, or will you acquiesce in the dismantling of the very republic we have been entrusted to protect?
Liam Harney is a second-year student at Cornell Law School. He spent last summer working at the Louisiana Capital Assistance Center in New Orleans and will be spending next summer interning at the Legal Aid Society’s Criminal Appeals Division in New York City. He can be reached at [email protected].
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