Bound By Oath by IJ

Next week, the Supreme Court is going to hear a huge civil rights case that no one is talking about—because the legal issue before the Court is the Rooker-Feldman doctrine, an obscure and slightly treasonous doctrine that lets federal judges throw worthy cases out of court without reaching the merits. On this episode, we examine the doctrine’s impact as well as its origins, including the life and times of the litigants for whom it is named, William Rooker and Marc Feldman. Rooker was a big shot Indiana lawyer who represented lynching victims and Klansmen. And Marc Feldman was a professor of law who fought for the little guy. Click here for transcript. Rooker v. Fidelity Trust Co. D.C. Court of Appeals v. Feldman

Name just about any modern constitutional controversy—abortion, civil forfeiture, gun rights, immigration, etc.—and chances are that the Fourteenth Amendment is playing a big part. After all, if you are suing a state or local government under the federal constitution, you’re usually making a claim under the Fourteenth Amendment. But you can’t fully appreciate the Amendment’s modern significance without delving into its origins. In Episode One, we do just that, but by way of a story you’ve probably never heard before—through the story of a little known American hero named John Rock: It’s February 1, 1865. President Lincoln has just signed the Thirteenth Amendment abolishing slavery. But a crowd of reporters and onlookers have gathered instead at the Supreme Court to witness John Rock, a Boston attorney, sworn in to the Supreme Court bar. The moment was as dramatic and historic as they come; John Rock was the first African-American admitted to argue cases before the Court, and he was sworn in before some of the very same justices who had ruled just a few years earlier in Dred Scott that blacks could never be citizens. Click for iTunes, Spotify, Google Play Music, TuneIn, and Stitcher.

At the close of the Civil War, some 4 million slaves became free. But almost immediately after hostilities ceased, leaders in the ex-Confederate states began to impose a series of laws, the Black Codes, that re-instituted slavery in all but name. Just as swiftly, a wave of terrorist violence swept across the South, targeting blacks seeking education, economic independence, and a voice in civic and political life—and also whites with Union sympathies. In Washington, D.C., Republican leaders grappled with another problem: When the Southern states rejoined the Union, they would do so with more political power than they'd enjoyed prior to secession—the consequence of each African-American now counting as five-fifths, rather than three-fifths, of a person.

The Privileges or Immunities Clause was meant to be one of the key liberty-protecting provisions of the Fourteenth Amendment. The Clause says: “No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States.” That sounds like a big deal, right? It’s not. The Clause has been virtually read out of the Constitution, and for people trying to vindicate their civil rights in court, it’s been of little practical use. That story—the near redaction of the Clause—begins with the Slaughterhouse Cases, which the U.S. Supreme Court decided in 1873.

In 1873, the Supreme Court said that the Privileges or Immunities Clause protects a right to “use the navigable waters of the United States”—and not much else. But in the nearly 150 years since, the Court has never examined what the right to use the navigable waters means in practice. On this episode: a pair of brothers from Stehekin, Washington, try to change that.