At Libertarian convention, liberty finds its moment

I cannot speak on behalf of Libertarians. I wish they would change their name to something like “Federalist,” which sounds more American and could force an explanation of what we are and what federalism actually means; that we are a collective of sovereign states and regions, not a collection of endlessly divided and oppositional ethnicities, tribes and culture clubs. And it would force us as Americans to understand that our condition is different than virtually every other nation-state in the world. We are not “exceptional,” but they are old and we are new. Therein lies the difference.

{mosads}As far as I understand libertarianism, which has taken some doing, “federalism” speaks more to their purpose. The phrase “libertarian” suggests that we are trying something new, seeking a new transcendence and hoping to enlighten the world with it as we tend to do periodically here in the mountains of New Hampshire. In other times, such attempts only amounted to escapism and came to express our alienation from the vast stretch of humanity which lives below us on what is commonly and contemptuously called by the seekers and political adepts who are inexplicably drawn to us as the “flat land.”

I tend toward the paleo and the old and am more commonly guided by this singular phrase of Lao-Tzu: “The world is a holy vessel and cannot be controlled. Those who try to control it harm it.”

But I have admired the feisty “free staters,” libertarians supreme who have been moving up here, generally ignored or despised by the local press, come to start the world again in New Hampshire as a “free state.” They seem to be seeking to find the thing that was always there underneath but got covered up and lost by layers of artificiality and years, centuries of lost causes and false dominion. And beneath it all is the True Temple, and that is what these new liberty-seekers seem to hope to uncover beneath the rubble of contemporary civilization.

And they know how to express themselves with clear, blunt clarity. I came to their attention when I wrote an essay in 2003 titled “A states’ rights defense against Dick Cheney.” One of their readers wrote to explain their purpose. No big ideological thing, she said. She said she was basically about “opposing gun laws, legalizing marijuana” and that she was no fan of Hillary Clinton.

I fell into a kind of an accidental alliance with libertarians because they were saying then, way back in 2003, what almost every politician is saying today, including presumptive Republican nominee Donald Trump and Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders (Vt.), that the invasion of Iraq was a mistake, and at its worst, an abomination. I wrote here at The Hill in 2011 that every state was a free state or should strive to find it within itself and said it was time to start listening to the libertarians and their candidates, including the one who wanted to be president then, former Republican Governor of New Mexico Gary Johnson. But the time was not yet right.

The time became right Sunday, May 29, 2016, at exactly 4:21 in the afternoon, at the Libertarian National Convention in Orlando, Fla. Johnson had just secured the Libertarian nomination for president. Sean Haugh, a pizza delivery man from Durham, N.C. who is running for U.S. Senate, was about to speak, when the proceedings were interrupted to announce that Trump had just begun to attack Johnson via Twitter. A roar of applause spontaneously arose from the audience.

It marked the critical moment. This would be the day in which the Libertarian Party surfaced out of the collectivity of the benign unconscious and rose to be an agency in the world. But it still could have gone either way. Johnson had won the nomination in 2012 and received just over 1 million votes. Then it all slipped back into the sea with the receding tide. Johnson could not gain a purchase in the press partly because no one had ever heard of his running mate, Judge Jim Gray of California. But this time it would be different. This time, William Weld, one of the most popular governors in the history of Massachusetts, had signed on with Johnson to be his running mate, but the delegate vote to secure his position loomed ahead.

It could have very well been libertarianism’s one and only chance to make its mark. If Weld did not get the nomination, the Libertarians could well recede again with the tide. This time, never to be heard from again.

And there was no guarantee that Weld would get the nomination. By his own account, Weld was clearly a libertarian and had said so often when he was governor of Massachusetts. But his position on, for instance, gun availability, was historically not quite in sync with the strict interpretation of the Second Amendment of many of the strict constitutionalists at the convention. And Weld did not win the necessary 50 percent of delegates on the first ballot.

Johnson took to the stage and passionately pleaded with the delegates to give him the running mate he wanted; the one he believed could bring the Libertarian Party into the mainstream — that candidate was Weld.

Weld secured the nomination on the second ballot with barely the required majority of votes needed. Larry Sharpe, a trainer and coach for executives, came in second.

“This is the highest-profile ticket in the Libertarian Party’s history,” said Nicholas Sarwark, Libertarian Party chair. “And it comes at a time when Americans yearn for a credible alternative to Republican Donald Trump and Democrat Hillary Clinton.”

A voice on the loudspeaker announced that Trump had now begun attacking both Johnson and Weld. A roar of approval rose from the crowd.

“We’re going to have a lot to talk about in the fall,” Weld told the crowd.

The deal was sealed. The Libertarian Party, the party of “minimum government” and “maximum freedom,” had taken its first breath.

Quigley is a prize-winning writer who has worked more than 35 years as a book and magazine editor, political commentator and reviewer. He lives in New Hampshire with his wife and four children. Contact him at quigley1985@gmail.com.