In contrast to most other democracies, many U.S. states apply a policy of felony disenfranchisement to individuals convicted of a crime. An estimated 6.1 million Americans are barred from casting a vote due to felony disenfranchisement. These policies disproportionately affect African Americans and contribute to the systemic oppression of black people in the United States. At a rate four times greater than that of all other Americans. one in every thirteen voting-age African Americans cannot vote due to a felony conviction. As the U.S. approaches conversations about race, discrimination, and privilege with new vigor in 2020, the enfranchisement of African Americans is of critical importance in the enduring fight for racial, social, and economic equality. 

The use of disenfranchisement as a punitive measure traces back to a feature of English common law ominously dubbed “civil death.” Historically, depriving a person of their right to vote only applied in individual cases for serious or election-related crimes, not as an all-encompassing nationwide policy. It is without precedent for the United States to apply civil death as a form of social control that endures today. 

Felony disenfranchisement did not act as a barrier to voting until the end of the Civil War when the expansion of suffrage to black men transformed the electorate’s racial demography. The 13th Amendment formally abolished slavery in 1865. It provided an exception, however, that allowed states to impose involuntary servitude as a punishment for a crime. The exception allowed Southern states to lease prisoners to mines, plantations, and private railways. The profits were pocketed exclusively by states and private companies. Prisoners earned no pay for their work while facing deadly work conditions and inhumane treatment. This system, known as “convict leasing,” created a financial incentive for southern governments to increase the prison population and produce cheap labor for the South’s floundering economy. Lawmakers, especially in the South, implemented a number of laws that strategically targeted black citizens. The new criminal laws known as the Black Codes applied only to black people and were “essentially intended to criminalize black life.” 

South Carolina adopted some of the harshest Black Codes. In addition to establishing a racially separate court system, it sanctioned drastically different punishments for white people and black people accused of the same crime. The code also prohibited black people from “possessing most firearms, making or selling liquor, and coming into the state without first posting a bond for “good behavior.” Also, blacks could not practice any occupation, except farmer or servant under contract, without getting an annual license from a judge.” Black Codes once again linked the oppression of black people to the prosperity of white southerners.  

The implementation of Black Codes was coupled with sweeping disenfranchisement laws. Within a 15-year period after the Civil War, over a third of U.S. states enacted felony disenfranchisement laws. To ensure that disenfranchisement mainly affected African Americans, officials in the South imposed the laws as a punishment specifically for crimes they perceived as being committed more often by black people. The author of Alabama’s disenfranchisement provision “‘estimated the crime of wife-beating alone would disqualify sixty percent of Negroes,’ resulting in a policy that would disenfranchise a man for beating his wife, but not for killing her.” In time, states imposed disenfranchisement as a punishment for all felonies, rather than only select crimes. African Americans were stripped of their rights and therefore deprived of their ability to use the democratic process to generate change. 

Selective enforcement by a white-controlled criminal justice system continued to ensure that “race-neutral laws” applied almost exclusively to black people. The Black Codes revived and legalized the exploitation of black people by directly linking them to the Southern economy. At least 90 percent of prisoners forced into convict leasing to provide cheap labor for Southern businesses were black. These factors quickly prompted a massive disparity in incarceration rates. In Alabama, nonwhite prisoners comprised 2% of the prison population in 1850. By 1870, the proportion had increased to 74 percent.

Researchers Christopher Uggen, Jeff Manza, and Angela Behrens determined that “the higher the proportion of nonwhite inmates in a given state’s prison population, the more likely that state was to adopt restrictive felon disenfranchisement measures.” These new laws enabled de facto slavery and allowed the government to continue enforcing racial hierarchies. With no rights and limited job opportunities in a corrupt system, black people were essentially forced to remain in a constant, oppressive cycle and stripped of any prospects for upward social and economic mobility. 

The origins of disenfranchisement provisions stem from post-Civil War efforts to deny black people equal citizenship. These efforts are the basis for the mass incarceration and disenfranchisement that African Americans experience in the U.S. today.  The war on drugs and the tough-on-crime approach adopted in the 1970s aggravated the existing racial disparities and extended them into the 20th and 21st centuries. By taking away felons’ political voice after rejoining civil society, felony disenfranchisement laws perpetuate an endless cycle of racism and inequality in the United States. The United States will never be truly equal until each citizen’s vote is counted. 

During the Constitutional ratification debates, Federalists and Anti-Federalists alike appealed to the ancient Roman Republic, a government successful in ruling without a monarch. However, the opposing sides pointed to the Roman Republic for different reasons: one example highlighted the glory and freedom that can come with a republic, while the other warned of the dangers of tyranny.

The Federalists viewed the Roman Republic through a positive lens. Hamilton, Madison, and Jay invoked the successes of the Roman Republic with the pseudonym Publius. Publius symbolized the hope of the newly formed Roman Republic. Reflecting the positive traits of the Roman Republic, Harriet Flower writes, “The importance of Rome’s republican model for… American revolutionaries lay in the courage it gave them to contemplate government without a king by providing politicians with a rival set of political institutions opposed to the hereditary principle.”1 The Roman Republic provided Americans with an example of a republican government, operating without a monarchy. Yet, as the Anti-Federalists pointed out, the Roman Republic was inherently flawed because it ultimately collapsed. Plutarch acknowledged this flaw while detailing the biography of Julius Caesar: “Some were so bold as to declare openly, that the government was incurable by a monarchy….”

After decades of civil war, the Republic ceased to exist at the end of the firstcentury BCE, giving way first to the dictatorship of Julius Caesar and then ultimately to the Roman Empire. Thus, by using the pseudonym “Brutus,” the Anti-Federalists recalled the last days of the Republic, fanning concerns about the extended powers the Constitution gave to the national government. They also recalled one of the Republic’s last defenders; a man committed to standing up against tyranny at a momentous point in Roman history.

The Anti-Federalists made a compelling point about the downsides of the Roman Republic. For example, the Roman Republic did not even remotely represent an equal political system. Instead, politics and government were exclusively the domains of the educated, wealthy elite. Running for office was a highly competitive and cutthroat process. In order to be successful, one needed to already have come from wealth and have established connections in Rome. Bribes were especially common. Since much of the political influence was consolidated into a small portion of the Roman population, the term “oligarchy” seems to suit the Roman Republican system best. The Roman Republic was deeply flawed, but the Federalists and post-Revolutionary generation instead looked upon its honorable principles. Hence, they alluded to the virtues that Publius exhibited: living free from a tyrant’s rule, providing liberty to the people, and representing the best interests of society at large. Ultimately, the Federalists made a strong case for looking toward the ideals on which the Roman Republic was built rather than the corruption and flaws that ended it.

The Rome in which Marcus Brutus lived, the late Republic, was vastly different from the Republic Lucius Brutus established centuries prior. Late Republican Rome governed a much more extensive territory. 

Despite living under dissimilar circumstances, Marcus Brutus commanded respect in the realm of late-Republican politics because of his ancestors. On his father’s side was Lucius Brutus. On his mother’s side was the Servius Ahala, “who, when Spurius Maelius… designed to make himself king… struck him with his dagger and slew him.”1Upholding and defending the Republic, even to the point of killing those who threatened it, was in Marcus Brutus’s blood. Additionally, his uncle influenced Marcus Brutus and his ultimate convictions. Marcus Brutus’s uncle was Cato the Younger, a senator famous for opposing Julius Caesar. Marcus Brutus aspired to be like Cato, as Cato “was whom of all the Romans his nephew most admired and studied to imitate.”2 Under the wing of Cato the Younger, Marcus Brutus became skilled at recognizing tyranny. Thus, it is no surprise that Marcus Brutus devoted much of his military career to salvaging the Republic. 

During the civil war between Caesar and Pompey (49 – 45 BCE), Brutus judged his commitment to the Republic more important than his friendship with Julius Caesar. At first, Marcus Brutus was conflicted. But then, “thinking it his duty to prefer the interest of the public to his own private feelings, and judging Pompey’s to be the better cause, [Brutus] took part with him.”3 Pushing his own private feelings aside, Brutus ultimately sided with Pompey in order to prevent a life-long dictatorship. At the end of Caesar’s civil war, Brutus was on the losing side; Caesar was victorious and Pompey was dead. Nonetheless, Brutus’s allegiances were still with the Republic, though it was in a state of utter chaos. 

After the civil war ended, Brutus committed the act for which he is most known: assassinating Caesar and sparking the second round of civil war. Brutus heard a rumor that “Caesar’s friends intended… to move that he might be made king,”4 confirming his worst nightmares. Thus, when Brutus’s comrade, Cassius, asked him to be a part of the plot against Caesar, Brutus agreed. He was willing “to stand up boldly, and die for the liberty of [his] country.”5 However, he did not take the decision lightly. The idea of assassinating his friend tormented him, filling him with “unusual trouble.”6 Though he loved Caesar, Brutus could not sit back and allow him to destroy the remnants of the Republic. 

Maintaining his honor to the very end, Brutus committed suicide when he realized that he was going to lose the Battle of Phillippi. Brutus’s loss at Phillippi and subsequent suicide marked the Second Triumvirate as victors, leaving Rome to dictatorship. 

Both Bruti were fiercely committed to ensuring that no Roman king would rise again, making the Anti-Federalists drawn to the pseudonym “Brutus.” While the Federalist Publius stirred up images of hope for a new Republic, the Anti-Federalist image of Brutus recalled the difficulties of maintaining a republic. For, as the Romans experienced, a republic could crumble into a regime.

Although the majority of Americans consider voting a guaranteed right in the United States, this right has a long and contentious history. Enfranchisement has steadily grown since the first election in 1788 but was unfortunately largely slowed by individuals or groups with strongly-held ideologies that opposed a broader franchise. According to historian Alexander Keyssar, the majority “of these forces or factors have long been recognized: racist and sexist beliefs and attitudes, ethnic antagonism, partisan interests, and political theories and ideological convictions that linked the health of the state to a narrow franchise.” Many opponents of universal suffrage used and continue to use unfair and nuanced rules to bar political participation from all Americans, despite the numerous laws and amendments enacted to the opposite effect. In coming blog posts I will speak to these specific voting-rights controversies. The idea of a series of posts is to help provide a better understanding of voting rights in the United States. But to start, let me give a brief history.

A Brief History of Voting Rights

Voting rights have been steadily expanding since the 1770s. At the time of the Founding, in 1776, only land-owning white men could vote in most states. It wasn’t until 1856, eighty years later, that the right to vote was extended to all white men regardless of property or religion in all states. In the general election that same year, approximately four million people, still only 17% of the total U.S. population at the time, cast their vote. Although this expansion was small, it marked the first of many acts and amendments which made the American electorate what it is today. 

Only a few years later, the 15th Amendment, ratified in 1870, prohibited federal or state governments from denying men the right to vote based on race. Initially, African American participation in elections grew quickly and many African Americans were elected to political offices. Over time, however, many states developed loopholes to continue to disenfranchise Black Americans through hefty poll taxes and nearly impossible literacy tests. African Americans who passed the tests and managed to pay poll taxes still faced harassment and violence when they tried to vote. In theory, the second section of the 14th Amendment, which stipulated that Congressional representatives would be limited for states that abridged voting, should have provided an incentive for encouraging high voter turnout. The second section of the 14th Amendment was disregarded as the voting rights of Black Americans were narrowed over the next decades. 

Literacy tests and other bureaucratic measures were consistently used to deny Black Americans the right to vote and evade the terms of the 15th Amendment. Black Americans waited for nearly 100 years from the ratification of the 15th Amendment to have their right to vote clearly secured when Congress passed the Voting Rights Act in 1965. The Voting Rights Act required that new state voting practices and procedures be approved by the federal government. This was meant to remove the barriers that prevented African Americans from voting. The reforms immediately impacted voter turnout. By the end of 1965, 250,000 new black voters had been registered to vote. Over 73 million people participated in the 1968 presidential election, almost 41% of the country’s population.

Women’s suffrage was another slow process that spanned decades. In some states, such as New Jersey, women were able to vote in and around the founding. That right was nullified early in the nineteenth century when competing political parties “concluded that it was no longer to their advantage to have all ‘inhabitants’– including women, aliens, and African Americans– in the electorate”. New Jersey then reverted back to only allowing white men to vote. This struggle persisted throughout the nineteenth century. 

Finally, in 1920, suffrage was granted to all women except Native American women through the 19th Amendment. This reform was a result of a decades-long movement of lobbying, petitioning, and picketing by women across the country. The amendment gave political representation to the 26 million women it enfranchised, fundamentally changing the understanding of women in society by empowering them to express their political preferences. It also dramatically changed the eligible electorate, which increased the growth of government and influenced the use of public resources. A paper by Yale Professor John R. Lott and University of Florida Professor Lawrence W. Kenny found that women’s suffrage led to the growth of government expenditures and more liberal voting patterns in the U.S. House and the Senate. Still, the amendment came under fire for failing to effectively enfranchise Native American and African American women who supported and lobbied for its approval. 

The question of whether or not to enfranchise Native Americans was controversial into the 1920s. The legality remained murky due to the sovereignty of Native American tribes. At the time, only 8% of Native Americans were taxed and therefore eligible to become American citizens and exercise their vote. Yet in 1924, the Indian Citizenship Act granted citizenship to all Native Americans, including the nearly 50% of Native Americans who were not citizens. Although the Indian Citizenship Act was revolutionary, it too did not offer full protection of Native Americans’ voting rights. Some states, most prominently Arizona and New Mexico, adopted laws banning Native American citizens from voting. More subtly, Native Americans were also subject to many of the same poll taxes and literacy tests as African Americans until the Civil Rights Act of 1965 outlawed their use. 

Over the course of American history, constitutional amendments and acts have incrementally expanded voting rights to men, women, African Americans, and Native Americans. Yet even today, 50 plus years after the Voting Rights Act, the right to vote is all too often narrowed. Some Americans continue to be disenfranchised, an issue that the John Lewis Voting Rights Act is currently under consideration to address, which I will delve into in future blog posts. 

Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay signed eighty-five of the Federalist papers with the pseudonym Publius. By choosing this name, the Federalists associated themselves with Publius Valerius Poplicola, one of the founders of the Roman Republic.

Determining which Publius these founding fathers were referencing is relatively straightforward. Publius was a fairly common Roman praenomen, or first name, with Publius Valerius Poplicola and Publius Clodius Pulcher as the most well-known. Since Plutarch, a favorite classical author of Alexander Hamilton’s¹, wrote a biography of Poplicola, the Federalists were most likely referring to him rather than Clodius, whom Plutarch never mentioned. As Plutarch and Livy described him, Publius embodied Republican virtue because he empathized with the people and preserved their newfound liberties.

To provide some context, Publius became influential in the formation of the Roman Republic as it was arising from the old Kingdom of Rome. The Romans, especially the Senate,² were unhappy with Rome’s last king, Tarquinius Superbus, because he ruled by fear and violence.³ Led by nobles like Publius Publicola and Lucius Brutus, the Romans deposed Tarquinius Superbus and sent him into exile. In the aftermath of Tarquinius Superbus’s exile, the Roman Republic was born. The first consuls, who shared authority of Rome, were elected. Unfortunately for Publius, he was not one of the consuls.

In his reaction to the disappointing results of the election, Publius did what he perceived as best for the new Republic: he quit politics entirely. He feared that if he continued to be involved in Roman government, he would aspire to be king and ruin the new republic.⁴ But when one of the consuls was exiled, Publius took his place. He and Lucius Brutus, along with the Senate, shared the responsibility of ruling Rome.

Once Publius assumed his role as consul, he demonstrated his commitment to the people with public displays. When entering the assembly of the people, Publius would bow his fasces “to show, in the strongest way, the republican foundation of the government.”⁵ The fasces was the ultimate visual symbol of magisterial authority for the Romans. Composed of sticks and an axe blade, it was a legitimate weapon and used for beheadings in early Rome.⁶ Thus, when Publius dipped his fasces, he showed “deference to the source of magisterial authority, the populus in assembly.”⁷ Plutarch also recounted how the people called him by the name Publicola, meaning “the People’s Friend.”⁸ Publius not only expressed his support to the Roman people and their assembly outwardly, but also through his legislation.

When elected consul, Publius used his time in office to establish a political framework focused on the Roman people. According to Plutarch, Publius legislated “one [policy] granting offenders the liberty of appealing to the people from the judgement of the consuls” and “relief of poor citizens, which, t[ook] off their taxes…”⁹ This legislation was particularly important because Tarquinius had taxed the Roman people relentlessly during his reign. Through these laws, Publius made the Roman populus his focus, boosting his popularity among them. After the succeeding consuls” and was honored by the Roman people as a figure “full of all that is good and honorable”¹⁰ upon his death.

Publius was a sign of a new age for the Roman people. As one of the first elected consuls of Rome, Publius helped boot the last Roman king, made long strides in legislation, and represented a voice for the people. Thus, it is reasonable for the Federalists to sign under his name. Publius, in the Federalists’ eyes, was the epitome of what it was to rule in a governmental system without a king and embracing a Republic with governmental structure.

Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay signed eighty-five of the Federalist papers with the pseudonym Publius. By choosing this name, the Federalists associated themselves with Publius Valerius Poplicola, one of the founders of the Roman Republic.

Determining which Publius these founding fathers were referencing is relatively straightforward. Publius was a fairly common Roman praenomen, or first name, with Publius Valerius Poplicola and Publius Clodius Pulcher as the most well-known. Since Plutarch, a favorite classical author of Alexander Hamilton’s¹, wrote a biography of Poplicola, the Federalists were most likely referring to him rather than Clodius, whom Plutarch never mentioned. As Plutarch and Livy described him, Publius embodied Republican virtue because he empathized with the people and preserved their newfound liberties.

To provide some context, Publius became influential in the formation of the Roman Republic as it was arising from the old Kingdom of Rome. The Romans, especially the Senate,² were unhappy with Rome’s last king, Tarquinius Superbus, because he ruled by fear and violence.³ Led by nobles like Publius Publicola and Lucius Brutus, the Romans deposed Tarquinius Superbus and sent him into exile. In the aftermath of Tarquinius Superbus’s exile, the Roman Republic was born. The first consuls, who shared authority of Rome, were elected. Unfortunately for Publius, he was not one of the consuls.

In his reaction to the disappointing results of the election, Publius did what he perceived as best for the new Republic: he quit politics entirely. He feared that if he continued to be involved in Roman government, he would aspire to be king and ruin the new republic.⁴ But when one of the consuls was exiled, Publius took his place. He and Lucius Brutus, along with the Senate, shared the responsibility of ruling Rome.

Once Publius assumed his role as consul, he demonstrated his commitment to the people with public displays. When entering the assembly of the people, Publius would bow his fasces “to show, in the strongest way, the republican foundation of the government.”⁵ The fasces was the ultimate visual symbol of magisterial authority for the Romans. Composed of sticks and an axe blade, it was a legitimate weapon and used for beheadings in early Rome.⁶ Thus, when Publius dipped his fasces, he showed “deference to the source of magisterial authority, the populus in assembly.” ⁷ Plutarch also recounted how the people called him by the name Publicola, meaning “the People’s Friend.”⁸ Publius not only expressed his support to the Roman people and their assembly outwardly, but also through his legislation.

When elected consul, Publius used his time in office to establish a political framework focused on the Roman people. According to Plutarch, Publius legislated “one [policy] granting offenders the liberty of appealing to the people from the judgement of the consuls” and “relief of poor citizens, which, t[ook] off their taxes…”⁹ This legislation was particularly important because Tarquinius had taxed the Roman people relentlessly during his reign. Through these laws, Publius made the Roman populus his focus, boosting his popularity among them. After the succeeding consuls” and was honored by the Roman people as a figure “full of all that is good and honorable”¹⁰ upon his death.

Publius was a sign of a new age for the Roman people. As one of the first elected consuls of Rome, Publius helped boot the last Roman king, made long strides in legislation, and represented a voice for the people. Thus, it is reasonable for the Federalists to sign under his name. Publius, in the Federalists’ eyes, was the epitome of what it was to rule in a governmental system without a king and embracing a Republic with governmental structure.

Just as the Federalists used the pseudonym Publius, the Anti-Federalists conveyed a message with their own pseudonym, Brutus. Determining which Brutus the Anti-Federalists were referring to is a tougher question, since there were multiple “Brutuses,” or “Bruti,” in Roman memory. The most well-known Brutus was Marcus Iunius Brutus, Julius Caesar’s friend who ultimately took part in assassinating him. At the same time, the Anti-Federalists could have also been referring to Lucius Iunius Brutus, one of Marcus Brutus’s ancestors. Lucius Brutus was a leader in overthrowing the Roman monarchy and establishing the Republic. He was also a colleague of Publius Poplicola.

Regardless of which Brutus the Anti-Federalists were referring to, both Bruti directly linked themselves with fighting against those who sought unlimited political power, a strikingly Anti-Federalist sentiment. 

Brutus Part One Politically, Lucius Brutus emphasized squashing the possibility of another Roman king. After helping to overthrow Tarquinius Superbus alongside Publius, Lucius Brutus was elected as one of Rome’s first consuls. Before setting up the framework of the Roman Republic, Brutus’s first acts as consul was to ask the Roman populus to “swear an oath that they would suffer no man to be king in Rome.”¹ Preventing tyranny was Lucius Brutus’s priority as consul, as his acts reflected. Rather than solely commit himself publicly to maintaining the Republic, Lucius Brutus’s opposition to tyranny prompted him to go to extraordinary lengths for the betterment of the Republic, including convicting his own son.

Lucius Brutus’s commitment to the Republic superseded his familial ties. Plutarch viewed Brutus as austere and perhaps too committed to his principles. As Plutarch described, when Lucius Brutus discovered that his sons were traitors of the Republic, he convicted them and sentenced them to death.

From a legal perspective, a father had the authority to sentence his children to death, no matter how old they were. However, by the time Plutarch was writing in the 2nd century CE, the practice became archaic and was seldom used. As Andrew Riggsby writes, the father’s power extended to “his right to execute them at will, though actual instances are so rare that some have questioned the rule itself.”² So, when Plutarch described Lucius Brutus watching his sons die without “the least glance of pity to soften and smooth his aspect of rigor and austerity” and that he “sternly watched his children suffer,”³ it was not complimentary. By watching his children suffer, Lucius Brutus (in Plutarch’s eyes) was perhaps too zealous in his maintenance of the Roman Republic. 

No matter how extreme Lucius Brutus was in applying the principles of the Roman Republic, he ultimately sacrificed himself for its preservation. As Tarquinius Superbus invaded Rome in order to reclaim his throne, Lucius Brutus died in the fighting. Everything that Lucius Brutus did was for the benefit of the Republic, especially in his focus on preventing any king from rising again. Lucius Brutus protected the Republic, even if doing so meant dying. His descendants, especially Marcus Brutus, showed no less zeal.