Constitutional Restraint

When the Mississippi River flooded the South in 1927, the nation expected President Coolidge to mobilize federal resources and rush to the scene. Coolidge did neither. As I dug into his speeches and policies, I began to see that his apparent indifference was actually discipline rooted in a lifelong commitment to constitutional limits and civic duty.

A traditional Republican shaped by Jeffersonian principles, Coolidge believed in federalism. In a 1926 speech, he argued that “the national administration is not and cannot be adjusted to the needs of local government” because it is too distant to respond efficiently to local crises (Foundations of the Republic, 187). Washington, in his view, lacked the intimacy required to govern effectively in moments of regional distress. State and local governments, by contrast, understood the geography, infrastructure, and communities they served.

To Coolidge, disasters were local problems. Floods were danger posed by nature that didn’t warrant crossing constitutional boundaries (Annual Message, 12). Using federal tax dollars to provide direct relief blurred the line between public purpose and private need.  His upbringing in Vermont influenced this perspective. As a child, he witnessed his father refuse to raise taxes after local floods, believing that resilient communities were built through self-sufficiency rather than by shifting burdens onto distant taxpayers (Coolidge: An American Enigma, 43). When Vermont suffered devastating floods later in 1927, Coolidge applied the same restraint. His principles did not bend for personal ties.

What stands out to me most is Coolidge’s emphasis on citizenship itself. In his 1927 Budget Message, he cautioned that federal “doles to the states” could become “disastrous,” encouraging “enlarged demands” and discouraging public response (Budget Message, 15). Once Washington assumed responsibility for relief, he feared that every future crisis would become a federal obligation. Over time, that dependency would erode civic virtues such as mutual support and voluntary cooperation, the very qualities that allow democracy to thrive (Coolidge, 412).

Rather than deploying federal funds, Coolidge envisioned that private charity would alleviate the suffering from the flood. He appointed Herbert Hoover to oversee, not command, relief efforts through the American Red Cross. The response was extraordinary. Americans donated more than $17 million, an immense sum for 1927 (Rising Tide, 201). To Coolidge, compassion from people’s hearts was morally stronger than government-mandated aid. He observed that communities were “brought closer in the bonds of sympathy,” preserving civic spirit that excessive federal spending might weaken (Address to Red Cross, 3).

Coolidge’s refusal to visit the flooded areas, though politically damaging, was strategic rather than cold-hearted. He understood that a presidential visit would signal promises of federal aid he wasn’t constitutionally prepared to offer. By remaining distant while allowing Hoover to manage relief on the ground, he balanced humanitarian needs with constitutional limits (Calvin Coolidge, 89).

The greatest challenge to his philosophy arose when Congress proposed substantial federal funding for levee construction. Coolidge rejected proposals he feared would create permanent subsidies and long-term dependency (Budget Message, 8). He signed the Flood Control Act of 1928 only after Congress removed federal liability and required local land contributions, preserving what he viewed as the proper balance of responsibilities (Flood Control Act of 1928, §1).

Coolidge’s response to the 1927 floods reflected a presidency guided less by optics than by constitutional faith. Whether one agrees with him or not, his consistency revealed a president who believed that heavy-handed federal intervention, even when well-intentioned, teaches citizens to look to Washington rather than to themselves and their neighbors.