I recently bought a mug with the Bill of Rights printed on it. When I fill it with hot water, most of the amendments disappear. Some of them (regarding the right to bear arms and quartering soldiers, for example) remain.          

The rest (including freedom of speech and press, the right to counsel, the prohibition of unlawful searches, and the due process clause) quickly melt away. The mug is a sardonic illustration of what many today believe – that the rights and freedoms our Constitution guarantees us are disappearing. 

Fortunately, when the water cools, the Bill of Rights returns in its entirety.

But how many of our rights and freedoms are really melting away?  Once gone, will they reappear, like those on the mug? How much do Americans know about this, or care?

Throughout our history, Americans have faced dangerous times in which we have been asked to choose between security and liberty. Often security has trumped liberty. In hindsight, we have chosen unwisely.  The Alien and Sedition Act of 1789, allowing President Adams to deport or detain foreign citizens deemed dangerous, President Lincoln’s suspension of habeas corpus during the Civil War, and the internment of Americans of Japanese origin during World War II, are all now viewed as troubling, and even disgraceful, responses to fear. 

Today, because of the horrific acts of September 11, 2001, we are told that, to be safe from terrorism, we must give up some of our treasured freedoms and rights. Polls show that many Americans believe we must once again choose, and many choose security over liberty.   

We are told the National Security Agency should wiretap our phone conversations without waiting for court approval because a terrorist might be on the other end of the line. Hundreds of people must be detained at Guantanamo, without meaningful judicial oversight to determine whether they are actually dangerous terrorists and without any legal rights to challenge the conditions of their confinement. When the White House withholds information from Congress, the courts, and the public, it is because its release could aid the terrorists.  

Experts from all political and philosophical perspectives believe many of these actions to be unlawful, unconstitutional, or just bad policy.  In some instances, the government has responding to critics by changing course, backing away from claims that its actions are essential for national security. This has only increased the skepticism about the original assertions’ legitimacy.

We are also told we must simply trust our government to make the right decisions for us. They have the information, we don’t, and that is that. Right?

 Wrong.

Our government works for us. Our president is our representative, not our ruler. We must demand that the president give us, or at least our elected representatives in Congress -- the information we need to evaluate these assertions. 

But until recently, Congress seemed to have gone into hiding. Our senators and representatives had forgotten that they are a separate and co-equal branch of government, with a constitutional duty to “check” and “balance” the executive branch’s powers.  

Recently, on a plane to Russia, I read George Orwell’s “1984.” I had read it in high school but I was too inexperienced, too lacking in judgment, to appreciate Orwell’s prescience, and his warning. I thought he was writing about cruel totalitarian dictatorships like those in the former Soviet Union, and the book would illuminate my travels in Russia. Much to my dismay, I saw many parallels with present-day America. Orwell’s fictional country, Oceania, was constantly waging war. The enemy kept changing – one day Eurasia was the enemy and Eastasia the ally; the next day, just the opposite. But it mattered little, if at all, because whoever the enemy was, Oceania’s citizens were always at risk. In fear, they consented to the -- at first -- petty invasions of privacy, small limits on freedom of speech, and insignificant restrictions on personal associations. Ultimately virtually all of their rights and liberties disappeared. They barely remembered what freedoms they had had. But they were safe, they thought, and that was all that mattered.

Or was it?   

The Constitution Project, of which I am president, works with many Americans of all philosophies and political stripes to safeguard our rights and liberties. Sadly, in the nearly 10 years of our existence, our mission has expanded as more of those rights and liberties are threatened. Our country has sometimes appeared to be coming apart, dissolving into philosophical and partisan clashes incapable of resolution. But at the same time, increasing numbers of people have come together to work with us. They may disagree heartily about many policy matters, but they all consider themselves constitutionalists. They believe that, for all of its imperfections and problems, our country is still a great democracy and a splendid model for people around the world who would, quite literally, die for the rights and liberties we Americans have. These constitutionalists know that, as Americans, we have an obligation, to ourselves and to these people, to fight for those rights and liberties, and to oppose any force, foreign or domestic, that tries to take them away. 

If we do not stand up for them, we will lose these fundamental liberties. Unlike the words on my mug, it won’t be enough to just let the water cool.