In the early morning of June 28, 2009, between 200 and 300 soldiers stormed the Honduran presidential compound and overwhelmed a small number of guards. Minutes later, President Manuel Zelaya was rushed from his home, forced onto his presidential jet at gunpoint, flown out of the country and unceremoniously deposited in Costa Rica. On the surface, Zelaya’s expulsion bears a disturbing resemblance to a dark chapter of Latin American political history — when over 100,000 people permanently disappeared because of questionable actions by military (and military-backed) governments — from which the region has only just emerged. While there are strong similarities to past coups in Latin America, the differences are, perhaps, more striking. The most striking of these differences is that the military was not the institution expelled Zelaya. Instead, the Honduran Supreme Court ordered Zelaya stripped of power based on the argument that he was violating the constitution.

The crux of the argument that Zelaya was violating the constitution — an argument put forth by the Supreme Court that ordered his removal, by the military that carried it out and by the legislature that approved his successor, Roberto Micheletti — is a referendum floated by Zelaya. The referendum asked Hondurans if they approved of a second vote, to be held concurrently with the next general election, to select delegates for a “national constituent assembly” in order to draft a new constitution. However, according to Zelaya’s opponents, the dissolution of the Honduran constitution is, indeed, unconstitutional. Article 373 states that only the “National Congress” can amend the constitution, while Article 374 specifies that certain “entrenched articles” cannot be altered, even by the National Congress. Finally, even though the referendum makes no reference to granting Zelaya another term in office, Article 239, which prohibits anyone from serving or attempting to serve multiple terms as President, is frequently raised by Zelaya’s detractors.

The first problem with Zelaya’s opponents’ claims lies with their arguments that cite Articles 374 and 239. Arguing that Zelaya was attempting to extend his stay in office or alter any other entrenched article in the constitution is presuming to know the will of any future national constituent assembly; furthermore, it is entirely possible that such an assembly would have voted to keep all of the entrenched articles intact. The second problem is shared by all arguments that posit Zelaya was violating the constitution; according to the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), the referendum was non-binding. No part of the constitution would have been altered by Zelaya’s referendum — in effect, it was nothing more than a straw poll.

With the legal basis of Zelaya’s deposition now called into serious question, let us consider for a moment that Zelaya’s removal and the subsequent violent repression of his supporters, had been a response to a binding referendum and, therefore, had at least the façade of legality. Zelaya’s detractors claim to be staunch defenders of democracy. If democracy entails a defense of the right of a miniscule oligarchy to obtain near-limitless wealth, at the expense of the overwhelming majority of average Hondurans (the CIA ranks Honduras the 16th most inequitable nation, of 134 nations surveyed), then Zelaya’s removal has clearly aided the cause of democracy. However, if democracy entails “the rule of the people,” or, at the very least, that their wills are respected and only their best interests sought by their elected representatives, then not only was the untimely removal of Zelaya from his duly elected office a blow to democracy, but the very laws under which Zelaya was deposed are anti-democratic.

The rule of law is necessary for a democracy to exist and flourish. It is, however, insufficient. We know this because a republic is not necessarily a democracy, and not all laws are just. Neither the law nor one person is above the law in a democracy. It is the active (as opposed to tacit) consent of the people, in a flourishing democracy, which gives the law its moral weight. President Zelaya’s referendum, had it been binding, would have been beneficial for democracy in Honduras. The drafting of a new constitution by a national constituent assembly, consisting of delegates selected from the people and by the people, followed by a national ratification process could have led (as it has recently in Ecuador) to the creation of a truly democratic constitution — one in which the peoples’ interests would have been ensured — not by politicians, judges, legislators or bureaucrats, who so often abandon the common good in favor of their own, but by the law that the people themselves made. Instead, we are witnessing the exact opposite: a democratically elected leader deposed by force on the basis of fraudulent charges, and the rule of law being used to justify the violent repression of democracy.

As I write this, President Zelaya has just clandestinely returned to Honduras. He is now besieged in the Brazilian embassy in Tegucigalpa. Those who have come from across the country to support their ousted leader are facing renewed fury from the dictator, Micheletti. The freshly installed regime, barely three months old, has already demonstrated itself capable of committing gross violations of human rights. The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR), an “autonomous body” within the Organization of American States, confirmed “…a pattern of disproportionate use of public force, arbitrary detentions and the control of information aimed at limiting political participation by a sector of the citizenry.” Furthermore, the IACHR notes that police and military repression of pro-Zelaya demonstrations has resulted in “deaths, cases of torture and mistreatment, hundreds of injured and thousands of arbitrary detentions.” The commission further documented the systemic sexual abuse of women, “while they were under the direct control of members of the police and Army.”

I have omitted the gruesome details of the crimes committed by the Micheletti regime, in part because they are simply too numerous for these pages; the IACHR’s “preliminary” report on the abuses is nearly 9,000 words long — the full report has yet to be released. However, I also omit these details because the only way to understand the full breadth of those caught under the heel of the Micheletti regime (men, women, and children, rich and poor, young and old) and the depth of their suffering, is to read their stories for yourself. I ask you to please take the time to read the preliminary report of the IACHR, and when you have finished — or have read enough to turn your stomach — please call or write to your local representative, our senators, the US State Department and/or President Obama and ask them to please support the Honduran people and President Zelaya in their effort to restore democracy to their country. As students of Amherst, as citizens of the most privileged — and in many senses, the most free — nation on earth, our voices carry farther than those of people who need them more — it is our greatest responsibility to use our free speech wisely on their behalf.