The Genêt Affair
The Declaration of Independence listed among its complaints against the king that he had involved us in Europe’s wars, insisting that their problems should not be our concern. In his Farewell Address to the nation, President Washington warned the nation about getting involved in the affairs of other nations. John Quincy Adams perhaps best articulated this principle of restraint when it came to foreign affairs:
Wherever the standard of freedom and Independence has been or shall be unfurled, there will her heart, her benedictions and her prayers be. But she goes not abroad, in search of monsters to destroy. She is the well-wisher to the freedom and independence of all. She is the champion and vindicator only of her own. She will commend the general cause by the countenance of her voice, and the benignant sympathy of her example. She well knows that by once enlisting under other banners than her own, were they even the banners of foreign independence, she would involve herself beyond the power of extrication, in all the wars of interest and intrigue, of individual avarice, envy, and ambition, which assume the colors and usurp the standard of freedom.
The principle of “mind your own business” had long before been articulated by Plato as an attribute of justice. In our own age, assuming as we do that we live in a “global village,” we suppose that this principle has less currency. We couldn’t stick to our own affairs even if we wanted to, the thinking goes, both because the world is so interdependent and because other people keep sticking their noses into ours.
Our contemporary politics seems especially beset by other nation's sticking their noses into our business. We think this is a new problem, but such has always been the case. After gaining independence from England the young nation found itself pressed on all sides by foreign powers: England to the west, Spain to the south, and England and France to the north. Neither did the ocean provide adequate barriers against piracy and naval encroachments. Then, too, concerns over foreign affairs infected domestic politics. Early divisions in the party system resulted in part from those who favored friendly relations with England (such as Adams and Hamilton) and those who favored France (such as Jefferson). Part of the issue resulted from different perceptions and interpretations of the French Revolution and what its subsequent bloodbath portended for American democracy. The new French government displayed particular belligerence to its historic European rivals, who feared the destabilizing effects of the French model.
His administration split between those such as Adams and Hamilton who harshly criticized affairs in France and supported the English constitutional system, and those such as Jefferson and Madison who expressed enthusiasm for the French Revolution, Washington, in April of 1793, committed the country to a position of neutrality with regards to Europe’s troubles. America, he declared, remained “friendly and impartial” to the European powers.
France especially evinced little interest in having America remain neutral. The new French government tried to solicit the support of its fellow republic to help guard its interests in the Western hemisphere. To secure this support, they sent as a diplomat Edmond Charles Genêt, adopting the egalitarian moniker “citizen,” who they also tasked with securing war payments and engaging in other treaties with the Americans. Independent of Genêt’s specific aims, his acceptance by Americans, including the government’s acceptance of his diplomatic credentials, meant that America would be the first country in the world to recognize France’s revolutionary government as legitimate.
In the midst of their own populist reaction against the patrician airs of the Federalists, many Americans welcomed Genêt as a hero. He immediately went to work, establishing French courts in the new land, soliciting Americans for service in the French navy, put together plans to create an American army that could invade Spanish New Orleans and the West, and generally made a menace of himself. Had he his way, America would soon have been at war with both England and Spain. Realizing how extreme his plans were, Genêt had plans in place to incite populist sentiments against the government should it resist him. Disobeying Washington’s instructions was one thing, but threatening to go “over his head” by going directly to “the people” was something else altogether, and Washington knew he could not let this threat go by.
Even Jefferson thought Genêt went too far: “He will sink the Republican interest if they do not abandon him.” Washington convened his cabinet, where all agreed that while Genêt had to go, they could not agree on how to accomplish this. They issued a demand to the new French government to recall their diplomat who, should he return to France in the midst of its Reign of Terror, would certainly face execution. The French government had already considered Genêt’s mission a failure, and the Jacobins, no tolerators of failure, suspected Genêt of sympathy for their rivals, the Girondists.
Washington, aware of Genêts likely fate, gave amnesty to the man who had blatantly undermined his legitimacy as president. Washington would have no patience for Genêt’s actions in his official capacity, but once relieved of those duties would deserve the protections afforded to any citizen. Genêt repatriated to America, becoming a gentleman farmer in New York, where he lived his life peacefully and quietly, and with great fecundity, until his passing in 1834. Washington’s handling of the Genêt affair displayed many of Washington’s defining traits that made him our greatest President: prudential judgment, firm action, a commitment to the nation’s interests and a concomitant ability to set aside any petty interests concerning hurt feelings, and a capacity to temper the demand for justice with mercy.
Director of the Ford Leadership Forum, Gerald R. Ford Presidential Foundation
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