Oregon

A few days ago, the Governor of Oregon, John Kitzhaber, chose to halt all executions in his state, declaring, simply, that he couldn't allow the executions to happen while being true to his morals.

As I reflected on this decision, which has drawn responses ranging from outrage to astonishment, I can't help but think about what I've learned so far this year in AP European History and, in particular, the Enlightenment and Age of Revolution.

The French Revolution and the American Revolution were, clearly, similar events where small differences led to drastically different outcomes. For one thing, the French Revolution lacked clear leaders like Washington or Jefferson to gently nudge it in a clear direction, and it lacked the single-minded focus of the American Revolution. It was also aided, of course, by the fact that the king who ruled over the colonies lived 3,000 miles from Boston on an island in the North Sea.

Another issue, though, is that of mercy.

By the time the French Revolution occurred, America already had a Constitution. Enshrined in this Constitution was, as Mark Osler points out in his linked article above, was the ideal that the executive can wield the power of mercy - that is to say, he or she can commute or pardon prisoners. This power is given in lieu of the prevailing powers given to heads of state at the time - those of arbitrary arrest and executive executions.

This, of course, is in stark contrast to the powers given to the French legislators. While both nations embraced the Rousseauian concept that the general will should sometimes prevail over the majority's will, France used these powers to overrule the general consensus about executing those that paranoid committees deemed enemies of the state. None of France's numerous constitutions during this time even came close to showing the executive mercy expressed in America's.

Like it or not, the ability of executives to follow their own convictions towards mercy is a part of our collective history, and perhaps may be a not-so-small part of the reason that we are where we are today.

And for that, I am glad.