Out and About (Sort of): An Apolitical Document Fails by Howard Freedlander

Unbeknown to most Marylanders, the Maryland Constitution came under exacting review and revision 56 years ago. It failed miserably to gain public approval.

My late mother was disappointed but not surprised. She had served as one of two women on the 31-person Constitutional Convention Commission, which rewrote the document, and then served as a delegate to the convention. She spent two years, 1966-1968, on what she considered laudable—and time-consuming–public service.

Ever practical about her political activities, my mother understood that the revised constitution was a political document first and foremost—not a scholarly treatise as envisioned by its leadership that would gain approval because of its inherent quality. She knew that entrenched interests in Maryland would work hard to defeat the enactment of a modern charter.

My determined mother ran up against H. Vernon Eney, the commission chair and convention president. He was a prominent and well-respected Baltimore attorney who eschewed political considerations. She admired him. He refused to promote the revised constitution.

He was dead wrong. He failed to listen to my astute mother and others, I suppose. He stubbornly rejected any suggestion to seek to influence the public will. 

My parents paid for a billboard to boost the proposed constitution. A noble but futile effort.

Mr. Eney was a gentleman. His political instincts, however, were faulty. His other major error was expecting the public to swallow the whole package of changes. It was too much to ask. The goal should have called for a focus on just a few, not the many worthy revisions.

When Marvin Mandel, a legislative magician, became governor in 1969, he extracted bits and pieces of the Eney document and passed laws incorporating them. He understood the value of the defeated constitution.

These bills reorganized state agencies and the judiciary to attain greater efficiency, for example. While I understand that Marylanders portray Mandel as an evil man who went to jail for legislative misdoings—and then was exonerated—he had an exceptional record for passing bills beneficial to Maryland. Few governors before or after could match his mastery of the bill process.

Mandel thrust aside recommendations to eliminate the office of State Comptroller as well as the Board of Public Works. He knew what battles to fight and which ones to avoid.

Ever since the demise of a new constitution, changes have happened through one-subject amendments subject to a public referendum. It is far more politically feasible.

I did not decide to write this column as a paean to my mother. Instead, I view the sinking of the proposed constitution as a notable effort gone array due to lack of understanding of the political landscape by a man of dignity. Radical changes require a concerted campaign to cultivate and win public favor.

Thomas G. Pullen, Jr., a delegate to the constitutional convention, wrote in the William and Mary Law Review, “In democratic society constitutions are considered sacred, and psychologically, changing one is something like making new translations or interpretations of the Bible to religious people. Many far-seeing individuals do not understand that what the people think is far mor powerful than facts.”

Like most states, Maryland floats along driven by hidden undercurrents. Adroit politicians and public officials study the unseen forces. They know how to fashion a strategy.

My mother seemed resigned to the result. In some ways, it was predestined.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.