Our Tombstone

In 1881, in Tombstone, Arizona, a professional gambler named Mike O'Rourke (aka "Johnny-Behind-the-Deuce”) was saved from a lynch mob by the legendary lawman Wyatt Earp.

The event has been dramatized more than once. My current favorite version features Kevin Costner as Earp in the epic film, Wyatt Earp.

You know how this goes.

A popular local citizen has been shot and an outsider and ne’er-do-well is accused of murder. With whiskey-lubricated courage several dozen of the towns irate menfolk grab their firearms, torches and some rope and head for the jail.

They congregate outside and demand that the lawman turn the villain over to them – or else. Save the county the cost of a trial. Make sure no slick lawyer gets the guy off using such vile courtroom tactics as “the presumption of innocence” and “reasonable doubt,” and asking for “evidence.” They want some swift and certain “justice.”

The Law steps out calmly, and refuses their request.

Lynch mob leader: “You arrogant son of a bitch. You think you can stop all of us?”

Wyatt Earp: “You boys can get me. That won’t be any problem with all the guns you got here. But I’m taking 10 or 12 of you with me. Starting with you, Dick Gird. And you, McGee. Maybe you, too, Harvey. So if any of you want Tommy… and you want me… come up front with these brave men… and we’ll all go together.”

Faced with the muzzle of the lawman’s Colt revolver aimed unwaveringly at his forehead, the mob’s ringleader has a sudden epiphany about the value of the rule of law. He backs away, muttering and grumbling, and the mob evaporates.

It’s a short scene in the film, but well worth watching. It offers, I believe, several very important lessons.

First, it’s the definition of the difference between a democracy and a republic.

The angry mob is democracy. The majority took a vote and agreed that old Mike was due for a little neck-stretching. Majority rule, right?

The lawman represents a Republic. The rule of law that says everyone has certain rights no matter who they are or what they’ve done – or what you think they’ve done. The law says everybody gets a fair trial.

Second, it’s the power of commitment needed for a republic to survive. The lawman is ready to go down swinging (or in this case blasting away) to uphold the law – even for a known bottom-feeder like Mike. The ideal that he’s standing up for is more important than, Mike and more important than his own life.

Third, the lawman could just quit. Why risk getting murdered by the mob to protect some guy who probably deserves to be lynched, anyway? Because he took an oath, that’s why. He gave his word. And when you give your word, that’s it. Period.

Fourth, nota bene that the lawman doesn’t beg, plead or discuss the matter in a civilized fashion. He doesn’t negotiate or try to find a “reasonable compromise” with the mob.

He also doesn’t come out singing a hymn, or holding up a protest sign that says “Lynching Sucks!”

What he does have with him is a firearm -- which he clearly knows how to use and is prepared to do so.

This scene is an icon of the republic and says everything that needs to be said about what it is and how to make it work.

It’s of sad interest to note that, in recent times the scene was replayed on the global street.

When the United States demanded that Afghanistan turn Osama bin Laden over for his presumed role in the WTC arson/murders, Afghanistan said “show us some evidence.”

I guess we didn’t have any evidence.

Because instead of making the case in court, Dubya led the lynch mob in an assault on the “jail.”

And we’re still there.

Yeah. That’s right.

We’re the damn lynch mob; Afghanistan is Wyatt Earp.

Say it ain’t so, Joe.

sj