Buffalo is in the unique position of being one of the few cities in our nation’s history to host a presidential inauguration. It is an important piece of American history and tradition that the rest of the country only thinks about once every four years. Though ours was a somber and solemn occasion- a marked departure from a traditional event- it was no less significant for our nation.
It is safe to say that we know better than most that behind the pomp, circumstance, and pageantry there are only a handful of Constitutional requirements to elevate a person to the highest office in the country. The simplicity of the act is perhaps its most symbolic element. One private citizen, one federal magistrate, and one sentence. The entirety of the power of the executive is passed in less than fifty words. By design, it is simple, solemn, and peaceful. Since 1789, those words have been administered in fifty-eight planned inaugural ceremonies and nine times unexpectedly. Each time, the same simple formula.
The framers of our Constitution grappled with the idea of an executive officer. They had to walk the fine line between empowering the office to the point of abuse or restricting it to the point ineffectiveness. Like the rest of our government, they settled on a compromise- a democratically elected leader with a fixed term. All the elements of assuming the presidency were meant to remind incoming presidents that the office was a privilege bestowed upon them by the people they serve and represent. There is an inherent expectation that with all the power of the office comes the responsibility of stepping away at the end of the term.
The uniqueness of that dynamic is best expressed by Theodore Roosevelt. As he was reflecting on assuming the presidency, he said, “To me there is something fine in the American theory that a private citizen can be chosen by the people to occupy a position as great as that of the mightiest monarch, and to exercise a power which may for the time being surpass that of a Czar, Kaiser, or Pope, and then, after having filled his position, the man shall leave it as a non pensioned private citizen, who goes back into the ranks of his fellow citizens with entire self-respect, claiming nothing save what on his own individual merits he is entitled to receive.” (To Sir George Otto Trevelyan, October 1, 1911)
This tradition has been pushed and tested during the past 232 years. Presidents have changed and expanded the reach of their office over time and even the inaugural ceremony itself has evolved. Traditionally administered in our nation’s capital, two cities served as our capital and hosted inaugurations before Washington, D.C. hosted its first ceremony in 1801. Originally held on or around March 4th, it was moved in 1933 under Franklin Roosevelt to the January date we know today. It has been held in locations across D.C. and, on four occasions, across our nation. But despite all these changes, the formula remains the same; one private citizen, one federal magistrate, and one sentence results in the peaceful transition of power.
That is part of what makes the American political process so special. Every four years we as a people come together to raise our voices and cast our votes. The democratic election of our president and other governmental leaders is the cornerstone of American politics. Our voices alone are enough to elevate someone to the highest office in the land. While some elections have been contested (those of 1800, 1824, 1860, 1876, 1912, 1948, 1960, and 2000 spring to mind), the American democratic process established 232 years ago has weathered the test of time.
Every election cycle, a good portion of the electorate will be dissatisfied with the outcome. But what is truly special about American democracy is that no matter what, we always have a date on the calendar when we get to do it again. That is the legacy of our Constitution, the forty-four men who have held the office, and all of the generations of Americans who came before us. We have the right to change our minds, every four years, peacefully, at the ballot box.
Lindsey Lauren Visser 