Like most states, Arkansas has some little quirks that may give a newcomer a bit of a pause. But some of those oddities even confuse long-time Arkansawyers.
For example, in our state, the town of Benton is not in Benton County, but Bentonville is. There's more: Van Buren is not in Van Buren County; Conway is not in Conway County; and Hot Springs is not in Hot Spring County. And no, there's no "s" when you're writing about the county, but there is one when you're writing about the town.
The odd names extend to elements of our county government, too: In Arkansas, the county judge is not really a judge and the quorum court is not really a court.
No wonder folks get confused around election time.
This comes to mind after a conversation with a political candidate. This person was embarking on his first campaign, running for district judge. He tells this story:
"One day I was collecting petition signatures and I must have talked to 400 people. At least 50 of them asked me if I could fix their road."
About the only thing an Arkansas district judge has to do with roads is assessing fines on people who break traffic rules on them. See, in our state, a district judge -- unlike a county judge -- actually wears robes and officiates court proceedings. He or she hears misdemeanor and traffic cases, sets bonds and handles small civil claims. An Arkansas circuit judge takes care of felony criminal cases, bigger civil disputes, family law and probate matters.
A county judge, on the other hand, has no judicial role. He or she is essentially the mayor of the county, with some limitations. The county judge's office handles administrative duties, presides over the legislative body for the county (confusingly known as the quorum court) and runs the county road department -- hence the question mentioned early about fixing roads.
A county judge does not hear court cases, make rulings from the bench, send people to jail or order losing parties in lawsuits to pay up.
By the same token, a quorum court is not a place where legal disputes get resolved. It's basically the "city council" for the county, made up of representatives elected by geographic districts. The quorum court appropriates money for county government operations and considers ordinances that affect county residents. To add to the confusion, members of the quorum court are called justices of the peace, even though their role in government is almost exclusively legislative.
Why these offices are referred to by what most of us know as judicial titles is an interesting question. I'm not sure there's an adequate explanation, except that at some point in the past these offices did carry some legal authority. Changes in the state's Constitution over the years defined the roles more specifically and transferred virtually all judicial authority -- with some very rare and obscure exceptions -- to district judges, circuit judges and appeals court justices (including the state Supreme Court).
As confounding as all that is, things are actually simpler than they use to be. Thanks to some streamlining of the state Constitution, gone are the municipal, city and chancery courts of the old days. Huge quorum courts, in some cases made up of hundreds of representatives but that only met once a year, have been transformed to more manageable sizes (13 or 15 people) with regular meetings.
Some people reading this column will think, "I know all this! Why is this guy wasting my time?"
Well, based on the tale told above by that district judge candidate, it's not a waste for everyone. There are clearly some people who need a primer on Arkansas government. Newcomers to our state are probably more familiar with county commissioners than justices of the peace or county judges. And, of course, there are a number of folks who have been in Arkansas a long time who just get confused by the strange way the state Constitution names some its offices.
So consider this column one way to shine a little more light on Arkansas' quirky Constitution, just in time for election season. In case you haven't heard, the 2016 preferential primaries and judicial elections will be March 1.
Perhaps this column will also discourage a judicial candidate from promising to pave someone's country road in exchange for a vote.
Now, if we could just find a way to get rid of constables ...
Commentary on 11/30/2015