Anouilh's Antigone: Law Enforcement Automatons versus People With A Conscience

In my French class taught by Sylvain Boni, in the eleventh grade, we read a portion of Jean Anouilh's play Antigone, based on the ancient Greek play by Sophocles.

Just as in the myth and original play, the action follows the battle for Thèbes in which both of Antigone's brothers have been killed. Créon, now king, has decreed that while Antigone's brother Etéocle should be given the usual respectful burial, Polynices must be left as carrion for scavengers. Antigone chooses to attempt to bury Polynices, and is brought before Créon as a prisoner. Thus, Antigone defies the royal command and carries out the precepts of her conscience, regardless of the personal consequences.



I find it interesting that many law enforcement officers seem unable to detect the indicators of conscience in an individual and identify with the state against the individual: in some cases individuals whose actions are motivated by conscience and not by an intent to break the law. It seems that some people go into law enforcement not to uphold "the right," but to carry out the orders of The Powers That Be.

I wonder -- has an FBI agent or a Deputy U.S. Marshal ever said to a supervisor: "I will not do that, I will not carry out your directive. Your directive violates the precepts of my conscience."

Is it possible that many law enforcement officers are unable to detect indicators of conscience in an individual because they themselves do not have a conscience? Their sense of right and wrong is not autonomous; it is coextensive with the directives of the state, whether the state is right or wrong.

Not all government employees act as automatons of the state, of The Powers That Be. There are some government employees who put personal conscience before the directives of the state, The Powers that Be. Such people are rare.

The Saturday Night Massacre was the term given by political commentators to U.S. President Richard Nixon's executive dismissal of independent special prosecutor Archibald Cox, and the resignations of Attorney General Elliot Richardson and Deputy Attorney General William Ruckelshaus on October 20, 1973 during the Watergate scandal.

Richardson appointed Cox in May of that year, after having given assurances to the Senate Judiciary Committee that he would appoint an independent counsel to investigate the events surrounding the Watergate break-in of June 17, 1972. Cox subsequently issued a subpoena to President Nixon, asking for copies of taped conversations recorded in the Oval Office and authorized by Nixon as evidence. The president initially refused to comply with the subpoena, but on October 19, 1973, he offered what was later known as the Stennis Compromise—asking U.S. Senator John C. Stennis to review and summarize the tapes for the special prosecutor's office.

Mindful that Stennis was famously hard-of-hearing, Cox refused the compromise that same evening, and it was believed that there would be a short rest in the legal maneuvering while government offices were closed for the weekend. However, President Nixon acted to dismiss Cox from his office the next night—a Saturday. He contacted Attorney General Richardson and ordered him to fire the special prosecutor. Richardson refused, and instead resigned in protest. Nixon then ordered Deputy Attorney General Ruckelshaus to fire Cox; he also refused and resigned in protest.

Nixon then contacted the Solicitor General, Robert Bork, and ordered him as acting head of the Justice Department to fire Cox. Richardson and Ruckelshaus had both personally assured the congressional committee overseeing the special prosecutor investigation that they would not interfere—Bork had made no such assurance to the committee. Bork also felt that the order was legal and appropriate. Thus, Bork complied with Nixon's order and fired Cox. Initially, the White House claimed to have fired Ruckelshaus, but as The Washington Post article written the next day pointed out, "The letter from the President to Bork also said Ruckelshaus resigned."

In case you were wondering, no, Elliott Richardson was not born and raised in Tennessee.