The Constitution was silent on Soetoro’s two other declarations: the adjournment of Congress until he recalled it and suspension of all federal cases in which the government was the defendant. There was absolutely no precedent for either action, which hadn’t been attempted in the history of the republic, which spanned a civil war and two world wars. Critics immediately claimed that Soetoro had unconstitutionally attempted to seize power, subordinating the legislative and judicial power to that of the executive. Strident voices compared him to Hitler and Napoleon, both of whom took over the government and made themselves dictators. Soetoro’s supporters — including ardent white leftists and more than ninety percent of black Americans, who had backed everything he had done in office since his first election and damned his critics as virulent racists — loudly supported him now. Amazingly, those who cheered his actions were given space in newspapers and time on television, while critics weren’t. Those editors and producers who were not inclined to fall in line, and most of them were, were threatened with arrest. If that didn’t make them behave, they were hustled away to detention camps.
Social media websites also received government attention and were told if they allowed “criticism of the government” on their websites, they would be shut down. Since they had no way to stop the wired-in public from posting anything they wanted, these websites were soon shut down by their corporate owners. Pirate social media websites quickly sprang up, but unhappy people could make little noise on them in the near future. Mouse squeaks, someone said.
The result of all this in much of America was an ominous silence that afternoon.
The news that Soetoro had declared martial law and suspended the holy writ arrived like an incoming missile in Austin, Texas. Legislators crowded the governor’s office and all wanted to talk to the governor, Jack Hays. And they all wanted to talk at once.
State Senator Benny “Ben” Steiner copped a seat in a corner and listened. The consensus was that Barry Soetoro had declared himself dictator.
“Anybody have any idea of when America will get its Constitution back?” Charlie Swim asked. He was the most prominent black politician in the state, a former Dallas Cowboys star. He was, arguably, also one of the smartest and most articulate politicians in Texas.
The hubbub subsided somewhat. Everyone wanted to know what Charlie Swim thought. “The problem here is that Washington politicians haven’t had the guts to impeach Soetoro. And I’ll tell you why. He’s black. They’re afraid of being called racists. If Soetoro had been white, he’d have been thrown out of office years ago. Rewriting the immigration laws; refusing to enforce the drug laws; siccing the IRS on conservatives; having his spokespeople lie to the press, lie to Congress, lie to the UN; rewriting the healthcare law all by himself; thumbing his nose at the courts; having the EPA dump on industry regardless of the costs; admitting hordes of Middle Eastern Muslims without a clue who they were… Race in America — it’s a toxic poison that prevents any real discussion of the issues. It’s the monkey wrench Soetoro and his disciples have thrown into the gears that make the republic’s wheel turn. And now this! Already the liberals are screaming that if you are against martial law, you’re a racist; if anyone calls me a racist, he’s going to be spitting teeth.”
Charlie Swim wasn’t finished, and his voice was rising. “The black people in America were doing all right, working their way up the ladder, until drugs came along. Then welfare, and payments to single mothers — when you pay poor people not to work and not to marry they are going to take the money. Barry Soetoro had a real chance to do something about what’s taken black America down — drugs, welfare rather than work, kids without wedlock — but he didn’t bother.” Swim’s voice became sarcastic. “Climate change is his cause, and discrimination against Muslims. And expensive golf vacations.” His voice rose to a roar. “I’m sick of this self-proclaimed black messiah!”
“That won’t do any good, Charlie,” Jack Hays said conversationally. He was standing behind his chair and now addressed the crowd. “I have no doubt we’ll hear from Washington soon, and in great detail, and when we do I’ll pass it on. You’ll know what I know just about as fast as I get it.”
“What are you going to do about this mess?” someone demanded.
“What am I going to do if it rains?” Hays said. “What am I going to do if it doesn’t? You people go back to your chambers and make speeches, hold press conferences, tell the people of Texas what you think. That’s all we can do right now. Tomorrow is another day. Now git!”
And they did. All except Ben Steiner. A lawyer from Abilene, he had tried civil and criminal cases all over Texas for forty years. Politics was his hobby. Now he closed the door behind the last of his colleagues and seated himself in one of the chairs across the desk from Hays.
“You are avoiding the issue, Jack, and you know it.”
“I know a lot of things I don’t talk about in public,” Jack Hays replied curtly.
“Barry Soetoro is ripping up the Constitution and declaring himself dictator. All he needs is a crown. That’s indisputable. This crap about terrorism — the FBI can find terrorists, and they don’t have to go any farther than the nearest mosque. What’s really happening here is Barry Soetoro taking out his political enemies. What are we Texans going to do about this? Are we going to knuckle under?”
Hays moved around in his chair, trying to get comfortable. He rearranged his scrotum. “You’re working up to something, Ben. What?”
“We need to secede from the Union. Declare the Republic of Texas, again.”
Hays made a face. “This isn’t 1836. There are forty-nine other states and the U.S. Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps. The last time Texas got uppity, back in 1861, the roof caved in. It would again.”
“Really?” Ben Steiner leaned forward and lowered his voice. “The roof has already caved in. Give me a better idea, Jack. Tell me what we are going to do if Soetoro calls off the election. If he declares himself president for life.”
“He hasn’t done that,” Hays shot back.
“Not yet,” Steiner admitted. “What he has done is declare martial law, adjourn Congress, shut down the courts, muzzle the press, and arrest his critics. How are we going to preserve our way of life, preserve our liberty, preserve our democracy with a dictator in the White House?”
“I don’t know,” Jack Hays admitted. “I need to think on it.”
“Better not think too long,” Ben Steiner said as he got out of his chair. “There’s a lot of people in Texas who won’t think long at all. They hate that son of a bitch and they won’t take this lying down. While you’re thinking, think about how to head them off if they get out of hand. If you don’t, or won’t, or can’t, we’re talking anarchy. No man’s life or property will be safe. Think about that. Also think about what you’re going to do if Soetoro sends some federal agents to drag you out of this office and throw you into a prison somewhere. Until such time, if ever, that he decides it’s safe to let you out. Think about that too.”