One: The Lonely Saga of A President
Regarding the American presidency, Thomas Jefferson stated, “No man will ever bring out of that office the reputation which carries him into it. The honeymoon would be as short in that case as in any other, and its moments of ecstasy would be ransomed by years of torment and hatred.”
The Apostle of Democracy understood the reality of being the leader of a free world. His proclamation came without the specter of the Internet, when even vitriol was still wrapped in quasi-chivalry. Though Washington set the precedent, the presidency was young, and America’s system relatively untested. Jefferson came to the position when the struggle between reason and religion as a national guiding force began to trend upward. For better or worse, the men who would become “Mr. President” have since been elected not so much for their political savvy but their moral aptitude. In this vein, history continues to weigh the implications of such decisions as the Trail of Tears, Emancipation, a New Deal, the use of atomic weapons, the Cold War, or actual wars in incomprehensible places.
Once venerated figures, they now face the scrutiny of historians without glasses tinted by the rose of populist nationalism. As Shakespeare's Marc Anthony pronounces, “The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.” The Achilles heel of any President is the Congress with which they work. For the distrust of the latter will not stop at Capitol Hill, it will gather speed down the National Mall before crashing into the Oval Office. Unlike members of Congress — who face far less historical backlash and may decry the President, placing the pitfalls of the country at his feet — it is Caesar, the emperor, the king, the President, who remains most morally accountable.
As figurehead of the most powerful democracy on Earth, the President faces not simply the demands of their party; they bear the weight of America’s values or more obtusely, the American Dream. Their election alone ripples out in a butterfly effect to all lower offices across the nation. Where her citizens may opt for a particular man or women to fill its highest office, America’s whip-saw disillusionment can quickly lead to rejection of similarly minded officials vying to become senators, representatives, governors, mayors, or city council members.
The responsibility borne by Washington in 1789 grows ever greater as the demands of a growing population in an aging country expand. The argument for control of the Executive Branch in the 21st-century comes down not to a belief for or against “American Exceptionalism;” instead, the electorate strains between incrementalism and revolution. As the quarterback leads the team and the pastor the church, Americans look to the President to steer the country on a course of beneficence for the betterment of the citizenry — sooner rather than later.
To achieve something more, something greater for the United States than their predecessors is the dream of every new President. Without doubt, this should go without saying. Idealism, more than any other philosophy, spurs the American spirit. Still, President Lyndon Johnson offered a sobering reflection on the expectations put on a President: “The presidency has made every man who occupied it, no matter how small, bigger than he was; and no matter how big, not big enough for its demands.” (The same could be said for any woman who may one day hold the office.)
Thus, a solemn, solitary duty begins. A duty which visibly ages the watchman. He or she will know few true allies and fewer peers. These peers will provide the respite and guidance needed to survive, but ultimately, the burden of success or failure falls squarely on the shoulders of the office holder, regardless of their control. This should be the lesson first communicated by the club and embraced by its newest member.
The Presidents Club, so-called by Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy, is currently at an all-time high of living, past Commanders in Chief. What their presidencies may have lacked, many attempt to right in their post-presidencies. All understand their names will live in infamy or esteem. As such, they — and they alone — are the peers of one another. No one knows the power or the helplessness better. None can be a greater ally and confidant or create greater enmity and strife.
In 2016, another member will be elected to The Presidents Club. She may be a past Secretary of State and a former President’s wife. He may be a billionaire with no political experience, a Canadian-born, Tea Party Texan or a quirky democratic socialist. Regardless, their’s will be a solo duty, a narrative over which they can only hope to maintain a majority of control. Such is the lonely saga of an American president.
