Joe Biden
Joe Biden. Finally, we have reached the end of this project. Judging by the current political environment it seems likely I will not be reading a bio on a new president for at least four years. This book is bad. Biden is interesting, but read What it Takes by Richard Ben Cramer for that story.
Joe Biden: A Life of Trial and Redemption by Jules Witcover
Tier 5
This book was published in 2010, just two years into Obama’s presidency. As such, it can only serve to look back on Biden’s life and career up to that point. There are very interesting periods in Biden’s life, and Witcover does a passable job covering those events. But the things that particularly interest me about Biden—his Vice Presidency, his decision not to run in 2016, and his eventual election and administration—are, obviously, missing. This isn’t the author’s fault but rather mine. I picked a bad book and read it and regret it.
Now, I do not mean to dismiss the career of Joe Biden leading up to his presidency. It is fascinating. He was elected to the Senate at 29, and then, tragically, just weeks after his election, his wife and daughter were killed in a car accident. His two other sons were in the car at the time but survived with minimum injuries. He nearly resigned. His career almost ended at that moment, and he went through a period of dark reflection.
This sounds like the kind of story someone writes for a movie or TV show. It seems so extreme and, on the nose, as to be almost unbelievable. But it happened. And he fought through it and went on to have a long and successful career as a Senator. He was extremely popular in Delaware and the Senate. He had a career that would’ve warranted a biography in its own right by the time he ran for president in 1988.
And, as luck would have it, there is a book about that. It is one of the great books ever written. Not political books, not campaign books, not history, but books. I can’t think of more than a few books I’ve ever read that are as compelling and well-researched as What It Takes: The Way to the White House by Richard Ben Cramer. Now, let me warn you, this book is massive. It’s over a thousand pages and does not solely detail Joe Biden (who dropped out of the race early on), but if you like presidential biographies or history in general, it is a must-read. Unfortunately, it did not fit the prompt for this project, so I read this book.
Two significant moments that should be mentioned about Biden’s pre-2008 career are the Robert Bork nomination hearing and his decision to drop out of the aforementioned 1988 Democratic primary.
First, Bork. Robert Bork was a hateful man who presaged the coming polarization of the Supreme Court. Ronald Reagan nominated him to fill a vacant seat, and Biden won wide acclaim for his handling of the nomination hearings. He did not resort to personal attacks on Bork. Instead, he focused on the ideological differences he had with him—Bork’s strong originalism and interpretations of the Constitution were the bulk of the hearings. In response to Biden’s work, Bork was rejected by the Senate.
Unfortunately for Biden, this success was short-lived. In 1991, during Clarence Thomas’s nomination hearing, he failed to cover himself in glory. I highly recommend you read this long story about Anita Hill and Clarence Thomas. Ultimately, Biden should’ve done more to support Hill and Thomas’s other accusers. He is on record as regretting his actions there.
Both of these mark a turning point in the history of Supreme Court nominations. The polarization and scrutiny not only of nominees' judicial rulings but also their personal lives begin with these two hearings, and Biden is at the center of each.
His failed run for the presidency in 1988 is a fascinating tale. He was the early favorite on the Democratic side. He was young (by presidential standards, at least), moderate, a good speaker, and had a strong track record as a Senator. The money poured in and he seemed a good bet to carry the nomination. Then came the plagiarism. He ripped off a speech by a British Labour leader, Neil Kinnock. In the past, when he made this speech, he credited Kinnock but failed to on this occasion.
Then, there was another accusation that he had borrowed from JFK’s inaugural address (how do you steal from a speech that famous?). And two years before that, he used something Hubert Humphrey had said. Biden blamed his staffers and pointed out that it was common practice for politicians to use material from other speakers. It seems this is true, particularly before our 24-hour media cycle. I am sure other politicians regularly borrowed lines and stories. But this was the first election that genuinely lived in that media atmosphere, and the Biden campaign could never pull out of its tailspin.
There was a further revelation about plagiarism accusations at Fordham, and it is clear that Biden likes to embellish his life. He got caught and bowed out of the election. One does wonder how things might’ve been different without this scandal. George H.W. Bush was not the strongest candidate, and parties rarely win three consecutive elections. The Dukakis campaign in the general election is legendary for its mistakes, and maybe Biden would’ve faired better. Or maybe not.
I don’t have much on his current administration as we’re still living in it. As I have repeated many times in this project, we need time to reflect on these things. I will say that I wish we had some younger candidates for these offices and leave it at that.
Biden is an interesting person who likely became president too late. This is down to his own mistakes, but it’s hard to avoid the truth of that statement. Witcover’s book does an adequate job of detailing the moments in his career I have highlighted and some others beside it. Still, I wouldn’t recommend it. The author is far too forgiving of Biden’s mistakes and allows his politics to shape the narrative. It's an indifferent book, and if you want to learn more about Biden or campaign politics, read Cramer’s master book on the ’88 election.
Donald Trump
Donald Trump. You already have an opinion on him. We all do. This book wasn’t very good, and I don’t think there are any good books on him. Not yet, at least.
Trump Revealed: An American Journey of Ambition, Ego, Money, and Power by Michael Kranish & Marc Fisher
Tier 5
History is the study of the past. This book was released six days after Donald Trump’s inauguration. It does not cover any of his presidency, and he doesn’t even have the time to reflect on his campaign. Michael Kranish and Marc Fisher are accomplished and skilled reporters, but this book is a poor entry in the long line of presidential biographies.
What this book does provide is a good background into Trump’s early years. It details his relationship with his father, who clearly shaped him in many ways. It shows how the two men were similar and how they differed. This section of the book is informative and exciting, but even it feels lacking.
And that is the best section of this book.
Once it moved into the 1980s, when Trump became a household name and basked in his fame, they broke up his projects by chapter. This is not an approach I enjoy. One of the things I love about a good biography is how it weaves the moments of an individual’s life into a unified tapestry. It can show humanity in moments of failure and demonstrate to the reader how those failures shaped their later successes. When I think of Chernow’s wonderful book on Grant, it’s that narrative arc that stands out. Grant was not one thing. He failed as much as he succeeded, but he never would’ve reached the heights he achieved without those early failures. This is not to say that there isn’t room in a biography to dive deeply into a topic. I enjoy that. But this section of the book is far too disjointed, and, honestly, they add little to the story that I did not already know.
I think there lies one of the primary issues with a biography of Donald Trump. We know him too well. We’ve all formed an opinion on him, and no biography is going to sway that. He is the single most divisive public figure of my lifetime. I have never met a person who is indifferent to him. The result of his extreme polarity is that there are only two types of books on Trump. One is hagiographic. I could not stomach reading one of those. The other is a hit piece. And, while there were moments that I was nodding my head along with the authors’ evident hatred of Trump, the act of reading this kind of book is masturbatory at best.
I find much of the coverage around Trump to be this way. People seek out the media that confirms their opinions on the man and his administration. This is one of the defining aspects of his still unfinished legacy. The nation has always been bifurcated, and it's wrong to act as if party-driven media is a new thing, but the tenure has undoubtedly been ramped up in the past decade or so. And Trump is the result, not the cause, of that bifurcation.
This book spends a laughably short amount of time discussing Trump’s election. I don’t necessarily blame the authors for that. As I mentioned, it was released in the days following his inauguration, and it was clear they wanted something on the shelves for the angry and the scared to devour. The 2016 election is likely to go down as a seminal moment in American history, and I would love a good, well-researched, somewhat unbiased account of it, but I’ll have to wait. The same is true of any version of Trump and his presidency.
I have my opinion of Trump, and I’m sure you have yours. The truth is we cannot fully judge a presidency until we have decades of distance. I felt this way with the Obama books I read, and Trump is obviously a more recent president than him. But unlike Obama—who appropriate reflections of his strengths and weaknesses have already begun—I worry that we will never have a distanced accounting of the Trump presidency. I think the passion that he inspires (in both directions) makes him an almost impossible person to reflect on. What writer who lived through his tumultuous four years could give an honest accounting of his administration?
But, likely, I am being hyperbolic. People always believe they live in singular times. They think that what is happening to them has never happened before. They believe their great leaders are the greatest and their bad leaders are the worst. They believe that after them, nothing will ever be the same.
If I have learned one thing in this project, it is that it’s all happened before. Not exactly, and we shouldn’t downplay the dangers of our current age, but we’re not alone.
I wouldn’t recommend this book unless you want to get your fix of anti-Trump writing. If that is your wish, this is a good read. At least, it is for part of it. Going further, I wouldn’t recommend reading any Trump books right now. I don’t think I’ll read another one for at least ten years, likely longer. I hope one day there’s an exhaustive text on him that meets the standard of some of the great biographies I’ve read in this project. For better or worse, Trump is an important figure in American history, and I’d like to have an accurate accounting of his life and administration.
Barack Obama
Barack Obama. The first president I voted for and, I worry, the last I will truly believe in.
The Bridge: The Life and Rise of Barack Obama by David Remnick
Tier 2
I was eighteen in 2008. My formative political years were spent watching Jon Stewart eviscerate the Bush administration and politicians in general. I was, as so many in my generation, raised to be a political cynic. There was no one and nowhere to put your faith during those dark years.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, there was Obama. He was young, handsome, black. He was funny and liked basketball, and when he spoke, a chill ran down my spine. It must’ve been how people felt when they first saw Kennedy, but even more. Obama represented so much to me and my generation.
Hope and change.
That was what he ran on. It was that simple. He represented everything that Bush wasn’t.
I’ll never forget voting for him and how it felt that election night when he won. It was the same feeling I had when I attended his inauguration. There was a buzz in that audience. We all felt the same thing. The joy. The belief. The feeling that things were going to change. That things could change. It’s a feeling I’ve never forgotten and one I’m glad to have enjoyed once in my life.
And then reality set in. As Otto von Bismarck once said, “Politics is the art of the possible.” Obama was all possibility when he stepped forth and walked down that long road toward his future.
He managed some of it. He was a good president, and history will tell us just how good. It’s a strange thing about presidential politics—you often don’t have a full read on their legacy until you get twenty or thirty years out. Obama will likely be remembered fondly because he will be compared to his predecessor and successor. He will also get additional praise for how people felt about him. Those early days of hope and change and potential will always be there.
Remnick begins The Bridge by taking readers on a journey through Obama's formative years, exploring his multicultural upbringing and the impact it had on shaping his worldview. From his childhood in Hawaii to his experiences as a community organizer in Chicago, the book sheds light on the diverse influences that molded Obama's character and ideals. Remnick skillfully connects these early experiences to the broader themes that would later define Obama's political career.
A central theme in The Bridge is the exploration of race and identity in Obama's life. Remnick navigates the complexities of Obama's biracial heritage and the challenges he faced in reconciling his roots. The book captures Obama's struggle with questions of identity and belonging, offering readers a nuanced understanding of how these personal battles fueled his commitment to fostering a more inclusive and united America.
As the book progresses, Remnick meticulously details Obama's political rise, from his early days in the Illinois State Senate to his historic election to the U.S. Senate and, ultimately, the presidency. It’s an unlikely climb, and while you’re reading the book, there are moments when you’re sure he won’t make it. You know he will, but even knowing that, it still seems impossible. Remnick provides readers with a behind-the-scenes look at the challenges and triumphs that marked Obama's journey to the White House, punctuated by his iconic speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention.
The Bridge skillfully examines Obama's political philosophy, shedding light on his pragmatic approach to governance and ability to navigate the complex terrain of American politics. Remnick captures the essence of Obama's charisma and eloquence, qualities crucial in his ability to inspire a diverse coalition of supporters. His instincts as a politician are evident early on, as is his ability to connect with people from all walks of life. He made it look easy, so much so that all politicians now seem to live in his shadow. It isn’t easy. It’s a skill that few possess.
No political figure is without controversy, and The Bridge doesn't shy away from addressing the criticisms and challenges Obama faced during his presidency. Remnick examines the complexities of Obama's foreign policy decisions, the struggles with healthcare reform, and the constant political battles that defined his tenure. It’s easy to blame these setbacks and failures on his opposition, whose stated aim was to make him a one-term president (how’d that work out?). They didn’t act in good faith, and the rhetoric they used to attack him was horrific and, more often than not, racially motivated. But that alone does not excuse his failings. He admits that he could’ve (and should’ve) done a better job of working to help lower-level Democratic politicians in order to have a more substantial base to push through legislation. By presenting a balanced portrayal, Remnick offers readers a nuanced understanding of both Obama's successes and shortcomings.
Beyond the political arena, the book delves into Obama's personal relationships, providing insight into his marriage with Michelle Obama and the challenges they faced as a couple navigating the demands of public life. Remnick explores the role of Michelle as a confidante and advisor, highlighting the integral part she played in Obama's political journey.
As Obama's presidency comes to a close in the book, Remnick reflects on the lasting legacy of the 44th President. The book discusses the significance of Obama's election as a milestone in American history, breaking racial barriers and inspiring a new generation of leaders. Remnick assesses the impact of Obama's policies and his lasting imprint on the nation's political landscape.
And this legacy is complicated. Donald Trump would never have been elected if it weren’t for Obama. Obviously, that is not Obama’s fault, but it is the truth. For all the hope and change that we brought into the beginning of Obama’s presidency, we came out of it with little of that belief left. The racial divide in our nation wasn’t washed out by our first Black president but was instead laid bare. The hate that simmered during his eight years in office exploded in 2016. I don’t believe it’s fair to blame Obama for this, but discussing his legacy without including these aspects is impossible.
In The Bridge: The Life and Rise of Barack Obama, David Remnick masterfully weaves a tapestry of biography, politics, and history. The book transcends the traditional boundaries of political literature, offering readers a captivating and deeply insightful portrait of one of the most consequential figures in American history. Through meticulous research, nuanced storytelling, and a keen understanding of the complexities of Obama's life, Remnick has created an excellent book that not only chronicles the journey of a man but also provides a profound exploration of the American experience. Whether one is a political enthusiast or a casual reader, The Bridge is an essential and engaging account of Barack Obama's life and legacy.
We’ll need some more distance to judge his legacy properly, but I think it’ll be a good one, and this is a solid book on understanding his presidency. I wanted more from his post-presidency, but the book came out in 2010, so I can’t fault him for that. Overall, it’s a very good book written by an excellent writer.
As for me, I think back on Obama’s presidency with mixed emotions. I’ll always remember how the beginning made me feel, but by the end, my inherent cynicism had returned stronger than before. I chose to hold onto the good and not get bogged down in the horrible rhetoric and brutal aftermath that came to define his presidency. And ultimately, I think most of us would take him back now if we could. He wasn’t perfect, and his presidency had many failures, but on balance, he was a good man and a good president. I hope we see his like again and that history will be kind to him. I think it will.
George W. Bush
This is a good book about a bad president and his worse vice president. George W. Bush.
Days of Fire: Bush and Cheney in the White House by Peter Baker
Tier 2
George W. Bush was a bad president. There’s no way to escape that fact. With many presidents, there is a debate, a way to argue for the good and bad of their tenure in office. There really isn’t the room to do that with Bush. You can argue he was a good man put in a bad position. You could argue his advisors led him astray. You could argue he was dealt a bad hand and played it poorly. But in the end, you cannot escape the fact that his presidency was a failure.
Days of Fire: Bush and Cheney in the White House offers readers a captivating and in-depth exploration of both Bush and Cheney’s time in power. As we delve into the pages of this thought-provoking narrative, we'll scrutinize key moments, including the handling of Hurricane Katrina and the Iraq War, to better understand what went wrong.
One of the strengths of Baker's book lies in its ability to illuminate the intricate partnership between George W. Bush and Dick Cheney. Baker's meticulous research and narrative prowess provide readers with a front-row seat to the inner workings of this consequential partnership.
The relationship between the president and vice president can be extremely contingent upon the president. You have examples like JFK and LBJ, where Kennedy was brutal toward his vice president (this was a failure by Kennedy. He should’ve seen the value LBJ brought, and if he had, he might’ve gotten more done in his tragically short tenure in office). Alternatively, you have partnerships where the president delegates specific tasks to his vice president (Obama and Biden come to mind here). But, as far as I’m concerned, this is the only administration where the president and vice president seemed to be on equal footing. Bush often deferred to Cheney. He let Cheney and other individuals in Cheney’s orbit set much of their foreign policy, and we, as a nation, had to live with the results.
Cheney was a Republican stalwart who had served in many positions over the years, including as Bush’s father’s Secretary of Defense. He was seen as the embodiment of neo-con foreign policy, and along with Rumsfeld (another legend in the Republican Party), Cheney set much of the administration's horrendous foreign policy.
Undoubtedly, one of the most significant periods of the book revolves around the decision to invade Iraq in 2003. The war, launched under the banner of addressing imagined weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) and the broader War on Terror, would become a defining moment for the Bush administration. Unfortunately, as subsequent events unfolded, the justification for the war came under intense scrutiny.
In the aftermath of the invasion, it became clear that the intelligence regarding WMDs in Iraq was flawed. No conclusive evidence of such weapons was found, leading to widespread criticism and accusations of misinformation. This failure to accurately assess the situation not only damaged the administration's credibility but also contributed to the region's destabilization, with long-lasting consequences that are still felt today. It seems clear from this book and supporting research that the administration was aware of the questionable intelligence but chose to move forward anyway. Sending Colin Powell—the cleanest member of the administration—to all but lie to the UN was a particularly embarrassing and deplorable moment in this chapter in our nation’s history.
Abu Ghraib also needs to be mentioned here. I don’t have the space to fully dive into the horrific events perpetrated there. It is clear to me that, at the least, Rumsfeld was well aware of what was taking place in that prison. Our leaders should be held accountable when atrocities like this are committed. They were not, and that is shameful.
But it wasn’t foreign policy alone that doomed this administration. Another dark moment in the Bush presidency was the federal response to Hurricane Katrina in 2005. The storm's devastation laid bare the inadequacies of the government's disaster response and exposed the vulnerability of the nation's emergency management systems. Baker meticulously details the events leading up to and following the hurricane, shedding light on the bureaucratic breakdowns and missteps that exacerbated an already dire situation.
The delayed and insufficient federal response to the disaster in New Orleans revealed a lack of preparedness and effective coordination at the highest levels of government. Images of citizens stranded on rooftops and in the Superdome became a symbol of governmental failure, further tarnishing Bush's already crumbling image and reinforcing the perception of an administration out of touch with the needs of its citizens—poor, black citizens in particular.
Going into this book, I was expecting a damning indictment of a failed presidency. And that was certainly there, but Baker pulls back in moments. He tries to add scope and show the complexities of leadership. There are a thousand decisions to be made every day, and a few bad ones can put an administration on an inalterable path toward destruction. I do not give Bush and Cheney, and the rest of the administration, a pass on any of their decisions. The job is to make those choices and live with the consequences. They knowingly made those choices and should be held accountable for their failures. Baker mostly seems to agree but, in moments, is willing to grant Bush and Cheney some forbearance that I am not.
The Bush presidency ended with a bang—the financial collapse of 2008. Bush certainly doubled down on all the economic policies of his three predecessors, but it’s hard to put this one solely at his feet. Reagan, Bush, and Clinton all had similar policies, and it was just George W. Bush who was left holding the bag. That doesn’t excuse him, and he only made it worse, but this was a national rot.
As I stated at the beginning, this was a bad presidency. There are other failures I haven’t mentioned here. There were the occasional successes as well, but they hardly bear discussing in the shadow of his looming failures. The Iraq War and the response to Hurricane Katrina stand out as particularly egregious examples. These failures left a lasting imprint on the collective memory of the American people and the way we view the office. Yet, despite highlighting the administration’s failings, Baker's comprehensive exploration encourages readers to move beyond the surface-level critique and grapple with the intricacies of leadership in times of crisis.
The book challenges us to consider the limitations of leadership, the importance of accountability, and the enduring impact of consequential decisions on a nation's trajectory. Days of Fire invites us to engage in a thoughtful and critical examination of history, reminding us that understanding the past is essential for navigating the complexities of the present and shaping a more resilient and responsive future.
Bill Clinton
Bill was nothing if not memorable. The presidency (and politics in general) changed irrevocably during his tenure in office. Tabloid journalism, the 24/7 news cycle, and the internet marked his presidency and no one since has been able to hold the office without contending with those forces.
The Survivor: Bill Clinton in the White House by John F. Harris
Tier 2
Love him or hate him, Bill Clinton is a fascinating figure in American history. His presidency delineates a marked change in how we, as a nation, process and consume the presidency (and politics at large). Yes, these changes began before him, but his presidency (and the litany of scandals that have clung to him) mark the final shift. John F. Harris's book, The Survivor: Bill Clinton in the White House, comprehensively examines Clinton's tumultuous presidency. Unfortunately, given the emphasis the book places on Clinton's time in the Oval Office, it leaves readers yearning for more insight into his pre and post-presidential years. Nevertheless, Harris's exploration of Clinton's presidency sheds light on the intersection of politics and tabloid culture, a phenomenon that has left an indelible mark on American political discourse.
Harris's book delves deeply into the eight years of Bill Clinton's presidency, offering readers an in-depth look at the challenges, triumphs, and failures that defined this period. From the Whitewater scandal to the Monica Lewinsky affair, Harris meticulously navigates the complex landscape of Clinton's presidency, portraying him as a resilient figure who weathered political storms with remarkable finesse. He seemed doomed more than once in his early years, yet by the end of his presidency, it seemed clear he’d have won a third term running away. It was, in fact, Gore’s insistence on distancing himself from Clinton that likely lost him that controversial 2000 election.
The book's limited focus on Clinton's time in office leaves a noticeable gap in our understanding of the man behind the presidency. Clinton's early life and rise in Arkansas politics and his post-presidential endeavors are given only cursory attention. A more thorough exploration of these periods could have provided readers with a more holistic view of Clinton's character and the lasting impact of his political legacy.
One of the book's most compelling aspects is its exploration of how politics became entangled with tabloid culture during Clinton's presidency. The 24-hour news cycle, the rise of cable news networks, and the emergence of the internet transformed political reporting into a sensationalized spectacle. Clinton's personal scandals, particularly the Monica Lewinsky affair (what a shameful moment to look back on in our nation’s history), became fodder for tabloids and mainstream media alike, blurring the lines between serious political analysis and scandalous gossip.
Harris chronicles the transformation of political journalism during this era, highlighting how the media's focus on Clinton's personal life often overshadowed important policy discussions. The sensationalism surrounding the scandals contributed to a shift in public perception as voters grappled with the juxtaposition of Clinton's private indiscretions against his political acumen.
The Clinton presidency marked a turning point in American political culture, ushering in an era where scandal and spectacle became intertwined with governance. The fusion of politics and tabloid culture during this time had far-reaching consequences, shaping how subsequent administrations were covered and altering public expectations of political figures.
The 24/7 news cycle, fueled by the emergence of the internet, has only intensified the trend set during Clinton's presidency. Today, political news is often consumed in bite-sized, sensationalized pieces, with scandals and personal controversies taking precedence over policy debates. The legacy of tabloid politics remains embedded in American political discourse, contributing to the divisive and polarized environment that characterizes contemporary politics.
Some accusations and gossip about Bill (and Hilary) were wholly fabricated (something that has become a staple of our modern political discourse), but many weren’t. Clinton was, and is, a shady figure with many skeletons in his closet. The true legacy of his presidency may very well be that these skeletons no longer doomed a politician's career as they once might’ve. As the scandals piled up, they seemed to lose their power, and he emerged from them stronger.
While Harris's exploration of Clinton's presidency is thorough and insightful, readers are left wanting more, particularly regarding Clinton's pre and post-presidential life. Clinton's early years in Arkansas, his political ascent, and the factors that shaped his leadership style are given minimal attention. A more comprehensive examination of these formative years would have provided valuable context for understanding the complexities of Clinton's presidency.
Likewise, Clinton's post-presidential years are glossed over, leaving readers curious about his philanthropic work, diplomatic efforts, and continued influence on American politics. Understanding the trajectory of Clinton's life beyond the Oval Office is essential for comprehending the lasting impact of his political career. I will have to seek out a different, more exhaustive biography of the man to scratch this itch.
Highs and lows marked his presidency. The highs range from the economic boom (presidents are always given too much credit or blame for these things), the Balanced Budget Act, the expansion of NATO, and some of the last genuinely bipartisan legislation our nation has seen. The lows are just as pronounced—inaction in the Rwandan Genocide; Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell; continuance of deregulatory supply-side economics; and a failed attempt at Healthcare Reform. The last of these particular stings as it was was a phenomenal opportunity to get nationalized healthcare, and the Clinton administration failed. There’s no polite way to put it. They had Hillary Clinton, the first lady, head this initiative. Whatever your opinion on Hillary is, this was a mistake of epic proportions. Healthcare reform was an incredibly popular policy, but by the time the media and interest groups got through with it, it was DOA. Putting someone else with less baggage and more of a legitimate standing in the administration in charge of this initiative would’ve made it much more likely to pass. This was a failure, and we all live in the ashes of that failure.
John F. Harris's The Survivor: Bill Clinton in the White House is a compelling exploration of a transformative period in American politics. While the book falls short of fully capturing Clinton's life beyond the presidency, it successfully navigates the intricacies of his time in office. The examination of politics morphing into tabloid culture remains a poignant reminder of the enduring impact Clinton's presidency has had on the media landscape and public perception of political figures.
As we reflect on the legacy of the Clinton era, it is imperative to recognize the lasting effects of the changing media landscape on contemporary discourse. The blurred lines between serious political analysis and scandalous gossip, as illuminated by Harris, continue to shape how we consume and interpret political news. In an age where sensationalism often trumps (get it?) substance, "The Survivor" prompts us to critically assess the evolving nature of political journalism and its enduring impact on American politics.
George H.W. Bush
Seen by many as the most forgettable of our recent (can we still call him recent?) presidents, Meacham’s masterful biography shows otherwise. A compelling figure and a brilliant book by one of the great biographers of our time.
Destiny and Power: The American Odyssey of George Herbert Walker Bush by Jon Meacham
Tier 1
As we near the end of this journey, I regret to inform you that this is the last great biography on the list. Distance is required for a truly great biography. It’s not fair to judge a presidency while it is in progress. Too much is subject to change, and too many policies need time to bloom. I feel that the 24-hour news cycle and constant retrospectives on current events are part of what has destroyed our political system. It’s a cliché, but a society indeed grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in. We no longer do that. We are all about the immediate, about making hot takes and judging things by how they affect the market in the short term. It’s no way to grow a society.
All of that is a long way of saying that you can’t judge a president’s legacy during their time in office or even in the years that follow. How many years are needed? How much distance is required for a fair perspective? I can’t say. I imagine it depends on the age and the president.
But instead of lamenting the state of modern politics, let’s take a look at this brilliant biography by one of the great biographers of our time. This is Jon Meacham’s third entry on my list (I am sure this is the greatest honor of his long and illustrious career) and, in my mind, his finest. The previous two were on Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson. These are stalwarts of American history—giants for better and worse.
George H.W. Bush is not that. He is overshadowed by his larger-than-life predecessor and successor. He is even overshadowed by his son, a much worse president but a much more memorable one. H.W. is destined to be lost to the sands of time. There are many presidents, and not all will be remembered. But H.W. should be.
A man of profound integrity, humility, and service, H.W.’s life is a testament to the essence of American leadership. Jon Meacham's masterpiece encapsulates the extraordinary journey of this statesman, providing readers with an intimate and insightful portrait. Meacham deftly weaves together the threads of history and personal narrative to present a captivating account of Bush's life, earning acclaim for his exceptional storytelling and meticulous research.
Jon Meacham's prowess as a storyteller is evident from the first pages of Destiny and Power. His narrative style is engaging and accessible, making the complexities of political history approachable to a broad audience. Meacham strikes a delicate balance between scholarly rigor and the art of storytelling, creating a work that not only educates but also captivates.
Meacham’s ability to humanize historical figures is a hallmark of his writing. In Destiny and Power, he lifts the veil on the public persona of George H.W. Bush, revealing the private man behind the political curtain. Through meticulous research and interviews with Bush and those closest to him, Meacham paints a vivid and multidimensional portrait of a leader navigating the intricate tapestry of American politics.
His nuanced understanding of the human experience enriches the narrative, allowing readers to empathize with the triumphs and tribulations of a man who held the highest office in the land, but only for one term. He was a man who often found himself stuck in the middle and pulled between his moral compass and the direction that his party was drifting in. The author's keen insight into Bush's character and motivations transforms the book into more than a historical account—it becomes a profoundly human story of resilience, sacrifice, and the relentless pursuit of a greater good.
Destiny and Power is not merely a biography but a journey through the defining moments of American history in the latter half of the 20th century. Meacham skillfully places George H.W. Bush at the epicenter of historical events, showcasing the impact of his decisions on the nation and the world.
A particular section of brilliance is Bush’s handling of the disintegration of the Soviet Union. This moment is historically attached to Reagan, but it was Bush who stood in the Oval Office as the USSR came crashing down. This is a defining moment in world history and, in many ways, the true end of the 21st century. It was unthinkable just a decade prior, and no one could've been prepared for it, no matter how skilled in foreign policy. And yet, Bush handled it about as well as one could. He didn’t force his fingerprint on the proceedings, and while there have been countless issues in the region since, I think it would be unfair to lay those at his feet. A different president (his predecessor or successor, say) would’ve made it about him. He would’ve claimed some great victory and shaped the post-Cold War world in his image. And he’d have won reelection. But that was not George H.W. Bush.
From his early days as a naval aviator in World War II to his tenure as the Director of the CIA during the Cold War, and eventually, to his role as the 41st President, Bush's life is a narrative thread woven into the fabric of American history. Meacham navigates these historical waters with precision, providing readers with a front-row seat to the defining moments that shaped the destiny of a nation.
One of the book's strengths lies in its exploration of the intricate dynamics of political power. Meacham dissects the complexities of the presidency and the delicate balance between personal convictions and the demands of leadership. By delving into Bush's decision-making process, the author sheds light on the challenges and ethical dilemmas faced by those who bear the weight of the Oval Office. Bush was a stalwart of a dying Republican Party. The party of Eisenhower and his father, Prescott Bush. A far cry from the Republican Party of Reagan and his spiritual successors. There are moments (Iran Contra, to name just one) where Bush should’ve pushed harder. He should’ve made his voice heard. But it wouldn’t have mattered, and, in the end, it would’ve doomed his political career. Perhaps he should’ve done that. Perhaps that is what makes a leader.
At the heart of this book is a profound exploration of leadership—a theme that resonates with readers irrespective of their political affiliations. Meacham elucidates the qualities that defined Bush's leadership style, emphasizing his commitment to service, diplomacy, and consensus-building. He was not a man to make waves. I see a lot of Truman in him—a party stalwart who cared little for personal credit and glory.
Bush's presidency was marked by significant accomplishments, from the peaceful end of the Cold War to the successful coalition effort in the Gulf War (which is unfairly linked to his son’s horrific war in the same area). Meacham expertly analyzes these moments, providing readers with a nuanced understanding of the decisions that shaped the world during this pivotal period in history.
However, Meacham does not shy away from acknowledging the complexities and controversies that marked Bush's political career. The book critically examines the highs and lows of his presidency (and career prior to his presidency), presenting a balanced and honest portrayal of a leader who faced both praise and criticism.
As the book unfolds, Meacham guides readers through the later years of George H.W. Bush's life, offering a poignant reflection on his legacy. The author captures the essence of the man's enduring commitment to public service and the values that defined his leadership.
In the final chapters, Meacham brings the narrative full circle, exploring Bush's post-presidential years and the profound impact of his enduring friendships with political adversaries. Through exploring Bush's post-presidential life, Meacham showcases the resilience and dignity of a leader who continued to serve his country even after leaving the highest office.
Jon Meacham's book is a masterful tribute to a statesman whose life embodies the ideals of leadership, service, and humility. Meacham's writing transcends the boundaries of a traditional biography, delivering a compelling narrative that educates, inspires, and invites readers to reflect on the complexities of political life.
Through meticulous research, nuanced storytelling, and a deep understanding of the human spirit, Meacham has crafted a work that honors the legacy of George H.W. Bush and serves as a timeless exploration of leadership in the American context. Destiny and Power is a testament to the power of storytelling to illuminate history, providing readers with a richer understanding of the man who navigated the turbulent waters of American politics with grace and conviction. It is as good of a biography as I have ever read. I went in expecting little, thinking of H.W. as only a pale visage compared to his contemporaries, and I left enthralled. He was far from a perfect man or politician, but this book is brilliant, and H.W. deserves a more careful political reexamination.
Ronald Reagan
Reagan. In many ways the polar opposite of his predecessor Carter. He leaves behind a substantial legacy and is beloved by many, but so much of what plagues this nation can be traced to his eight years in office. This is a wonderful biography that encompasses not only his presidency but his fascinating life.
Reagan: An American Journey by Bob Spitz
Tier One
Ronald Reagan. I’m going to be honest, I was dreading this one. I assumed the biography I’d read would fail to find the nuances of the man. I’d either find a book that was hyper-critical of him as a politician and president that failed to portray his unlikely rise. Or I’d find a book that saw him as a god. Instead, I read this book. And it is a wonderful biography. Spitz takes readers on a captivating exploration of the man behind the presidential persona. From Reagan's early days as an actor to his unexpected foray into politics, he skillfully paints a portrait of a figure who would shape the nation in ways both lauded and criticized. Few people have had as indelible an impact on American politics as Reagan, and Spitz handles that legacy with nuanced delicacy.
Reagan's journey to the presidency began in the glitzy world of Hollywood. As an actor, he honed his skills in front of the camera, becoming a familiar face in films and television. He never reached the heights that he had envisioned for himself. He was bitter about the roles he was passed over for and was desperate to be accepted among the A-list. He’d never quite achieve that position as an actor. Spitz, primarily a Hollywood writer, delves into these formative years, exploring Reagan's Hollywood career and the transition that would define his legacy.
The turning point came when Reagan stepped into politics, leveraging his familiar face, charisma, and communication prowess to vault him into the political arena. His role as a spokesperson for General Electric provided a unique platform, allowing him to connect with the American people on a personal level. The trust he garnered during this time would later become a cornerstone of his political success. It also began a long and well-established connection between Reagan and big business. His political career, in many ways, is shaped by this relationship. He fought for corporations and the wealthy every chance he got, and that fight started here, with him serving as a glorified advertiser for General Electric. Aside from his responsibilities hosting and producing an anthology television show, Reagan also gave speeches to GE employees where he lauded free markets, promoted business-friendly politicians, and railed against unions. These would all later become foundational pillars of the Reagan political ideology.
Reagan's ability to harness the power of the Bully Pulpit was an essential aspect of his political ascent. Unlike his predecessor, Jimmy Carter, Reagan understood the importance of effective communication with the people. Spitz's narrative highlights how Reagan’s background as a performer captivated the nation through speeches that resonated with a broad audience. Never underestimate the power of a familiar face and a confident tone. Reagan used the Bully Pulpit to push through a pro-business agenda and skillfully tapped into the hopes and fears of the American people. The dichotomy of Reagan's communication style becomes a focal point in Spitz's narrative, showcasing both its effectiveness and the underlying motivations.
Despite his affable demeanor, Reagan's presidency was thick with controversy. Spitz does not shy away from examining these darker elements. From the Iran-Contra scandal to hyper-deregulation and the growing income gap, Reagan's policies were revolutionary and often horrific. But they were wrapped in a warm demeanor. The people felt things were getting better. They were confident that their new president cared about them. He made them proud to be Americans again. It cannot be understated how much one can get done once one captures the people's hearts.
Reagan's presidency became a canvas upon which the darker elements of the Republican Party painted their agenda. The pro-business message—trickle-down economics first among them—he championed laid the groundwork for economic policies that disproportionately benefited the wealthy. He rolled back Civil Rights advances and started the War on Drugs. If you look at any graph on incarceration rates, the precipitous spike occurred right around 1980, when Reagan took office. We still live in the world the Reagan administration built through these economic and social policies. Spitz's narrative forces readers to confront the complexities of Reagan's legacy, acknowledging his successes in captivating and inspiring the people while also showing the failures of his policies in the long term.
Reagan's presidency marked a significant shift in American politics that continues to shape the nation today. His legacy, both admired and contested, is a testament to the enduring influence of a charismatic leader.
Spitz's meticulous storytelling brings to light the nuanced aspects of Reagan's life, presenting a comprehensive view of the man behind the political figure. The book serves as a reminder that understanding history requires critically examining leaders and their impact, acknowledging the positive while confronting the challenges. It’s also funny and enthralling. There are lovely stories of old Hollywood. It deals extensively with the red scare (Reagan eagerly named names) and shows the moments in which the Republican party transitioned into its current form.
Spitz’s book is a riveting account of a man whose life took unexpected turns, leading him from Hollywood to the Oval Office. It’s a rich, detailed narrative, providing readers with a comprehensive understanding of Reagan's early life, his political journey, and the complexities of his presidency.
While Spitz paints a vivid picture of Reagan's charm and communication skills, he also confronts the darker elements of his presidency. The book invites readers to grapple with the legacy of a leader who, for better or worse, played a pivotal role in shaping the political landscape of the United States.
As we reflect on Reagan's impact, it becomes clear that his presidency represents more than just a chapter in history. It symbolizes a turning point in American politics, leaving a lasting imprint that continues to influence the nation's trajectory. Reagan: An American Journey is not just a biography; it's a lens through which we can examine the complexities of leadership, power, and the enduring consequences of political decisions. It is an absolute must-read if you enjoy political biographies. I cannot recommend it highly enough.
Jimmy Carter
Jimmy Carter. Not a great president, but a good man. This biography is just ok.
President Carter: The White House Years by Stuart Eizenstat
Tier 3
Few presidents are as enigmatic as Jimmy Carter. His presidency, marked by notable achievements and daunting challenges, is often viewed through the lens of his character - a good man grappling with the complexities of the Oval Office. Eizenstat’s book seeks to unravel the intricacies of Carter's time in office, offering insights into the man behind the presidency. The book provides a somewhat nuanced perspective on Carter's tenure, emphasizing his admirable qualities and (occasionally) touching on his failures. Overall, as with so many of these books, it leans hagiographic. Carter was easy to fall in love with, and Eizenstat was a longtime friend who worked with Carter on his gubernatorial campaign and 1976 presidential campaign and served in his White House. You won’t get an unbiased view of the man from someone like that.
Jimmy Carter's presidency was characterized by a strong moral compass and an unwavering commitment to public service. The book paints a vivid picture of a man guided by principles, determined to bring honesty and integrity to the highest office in the land. Carter's accomplishments ranged from brokering the Camp David Accords to advancing environmental policies. Yet, as the narrative unfolds, it becomes apparent that the challenges he faced were formidable, and his approach fell short of expectations.
One of the critical aspects I took away from this book (and my other reading on his presidency) is Carter's struggle to harness the full potential of the bully pulpit. The presidency inherently comes with a platform for influence, a powerful tool for shaping public opinion and rallying support. Think of how the Roosevelts used the public to advance their positions and standing. This is an essential aspect of being president. You need to get the people on your side to push through any sort of transformative legislation. Unfortunately, Carter seemed unable to leverage this tool effectively. Whether it was grappling with economic crises, the Iranian hostage crisis, or the energy crisis, Carter struggled to communicate a compelling narrative that resonated with the American people. In the end, this doomed him. It doesn’t matter how good your ideas are. You need to get the people on your side. You need to have them believe that you are helping them. Carter never managed this.
His inability to project strength and decisiveness during these tumultuous times contributed to a perception of weakness. The book suggests that Carter's communication style, often perceived as aloof and detached, hindered his ability to connect with the American public on an emotional level. While his authenticity was commendable, it was insufficient when it came to navigating the complexities of global politics and his considerable domestic challenges. Part of this was simply the changing times. Much of what he attempted, notably his “crisis of confidence” speech to the American public, may have played well at a different time with a different man. But post-Watergate, with a Republican machine grinding away at him, he didn’t read the room and suffered for it.
While Eizenstat’s book delves into the intricacies of Carter's time in office, I yearned for a more comprehensive exploration of his life before and after the presidency. Though offering valuable insights into his presidency, the book leaves some gaps in the broader narrative of Carter's remarkable life. I’m going to look for another book on him that delves more fully into his early years, rise to power, and impactful post-presidency.
President Carter: The White House Years provides a thought-provoking examination of Jimmy Carter's presidency, shedding light on the challenges and triumphs of a man who held the highest office during a pivotal period in history. Coming from a former staffer, the book glosses over too many of his failures and doesn’t grapple with the reasons behind them. A good biography must be willing to be critical, and I don’t think Eizenstat had that in him. Still, Carter is an important president and a good man. He tried to do what he thought was best. In many ways, his story is one of the corruption of the presidency. He took office in the wake of Watergate with a nation ready to be reshaped. He thought he could do it through honesty and virtue, but he was wrong. It took a different sort of man with different values to do that. Carter learned a hard truth—the Oval Office is no place for an honest man.
Gerald Ford
The book’s ok. Gerry was pretty mid. But Betty Ford was cool.
Ambition, Pragmatism, and Party: A Political Biography of Gerald R. Ford by Scott Kaufman
Tier Three
Scott Kaufman's "Ambition, Pragmatism, and Party: A Political Biography of Gerald R. Ford" delves into the life of the 38th President, exploring the complexities that defined his political career. As I went through this biography, I found a nuanced portrayal of Ford's character, decisions, and the broader political landscape of his era. It didn’t live up to the previous few biographies (or presidents) on the list, but it was a serviceable book.
One of the highlights of Kaufman's work is the attention given to Betty Ford, Gerald's wife. The book provides a captivating glimpse into her role as First Lady, her advocacy for breast cancer awareness, and her openness about personal struggles, notably her battle with addiction. Betty Ford emerges as a resilient and influential figure, adding depth to the narrative and showcasing the impact of personal stories within the political sphere.
While the biography skillfully captures the essence of Ford's political journey, one decision looms large and casts a shadow over his legacy—the pardon of Richard Nixon. Kaufman provides a detailed examination of this pivotal moment, acknowledging its consequences and the lasting impact on Ford's political career.
The argument against the pardon revolves around the belief that it allowed Nixon to evade the consequences of his actions, undermining the principles of justice and accountability. Ford's decision, while rooted in a desire for national healing, ultimately became a source of contention and criticism, reshaping the public's perception of his presidency.
It was the wrong decision, one that not only doomed Ford's political trajectory but set a disconcerting precedent for accountability in American politics. We live in the ashes of that decision. Ford had his reasons. He was a loyal party servant and felt that further punishment for Nixon would be bad for the party and the nation. He wanted to heal the country, not further divide it, but sometimes presidents have to make difficult choices. This was Ford’s chance to do that, and, in my opinion, he failed the test.
In the realm of political biographies, each author brings a unique perspective to the table. In my journey through Ford's life via Kaufman's lens, I couldn't help but reflect on previous biographies that had captivated me more. The comparison is inevitable, and it's worth noting that individual preferences play a significant role in shaping one's perception of a particular work.
Kaufman's biography, while competent, may suffer in comparison to its predecessors, as it doesn't offer the same level of engrossing storytelling or groundbreaking insights. It's essential to recognize that this is a subjective judgment, influenced by the expectations set by prior works on Ford's life and my affinity for past biographies. Ford is an interesting man whose path to the presidency was meandering and peculiar. He wasn’t even elected as Nixon’s Vice President (that was Spiro Agnew, who had to resign from a separate scandal).
I worry that with Ford, people only think of Watergate and those Chevy Chase SNL skits. So, to not fall into that same trap, let’s talk about something else—his role in the Mayaguez incident in 1975. This incident unfolded in the wake of the Vietnam War and marked a test of Ford's leadership during a time of international crisis. In May 1975, the American cargo ship SS Mayaguez was seized by Khmer Rouge forces near Cambodia. In response, President Ford swiftly ordered a military rescue operation known as Operation Frequent Wind. The operation was not without challenges, resulting in casualties and controversy. Ford's decision to use military force in defense of American interests, while reflecting a commitment to assertive action, faced scrutiny both domestically and internationally. The Mayaguez incident is a lesser-known episode in Ford's presidency, highlighting the complexities of navigating global affairs in the post-Vietnam War era and the difficult choices leaders must make in the face of unforeseen challenges.
Overall, I found myself engaged in the narrative but couldn't shake the feeling that the biography fell short of the captivating allure presented by previous presidential biographies. It’s a shame because I think there was more there.
In the end, the strength of Kaufman's biography lies in its meticulous examination of Ford's political career and the intricate dance between ambition and pragmatism. The exploration of Betty Ford's influence adds a human touch to the political narrative, reminding us that behind every leader is a complex personal story. While the pardon of Nixon remains a tarnishing mark on Ford's legacy, it serves as a testament to the intricate and often unpredictable nature of political decision-making.
In the evolving landscape of political narratives, each biography adds a layer to the understanding of historical figures. Kaufman's work contributes to this ongoing dialogue, offering readers a comprehensive look at the life and times of Gerald R. Ford, a man who navigated the corridors of power with ambition, confronted challenges with pragmatism, and remained loyal to his party even in the face of controversy.
Richard Nixon
Tricky Dick Nixon. A name he more than lived up to. An insecure, fragile, angry, paranoid, ambitious man who shaped the nation we now live in as much as anyone. This is a wonderful biography of a fascinating, troubling man.
Richard Nixon: The Life by John A. Farrell
Tier One
In the annals of American history, there are few figures as complex and enigmatic as Richard Nixon. A shy, anxious person who perceived enemies around every corner, Nixon managed to rise to the highest office in the land, becoming the 37th President of the United States. His presidency was marked by significant achievements and equally significant controversies, and it is this intricate journey that author John A. Farrell expertly dissects in "Richard Nixon: The Life."
Farrell's biography of Richard Nixon is nothing short of a remarkable exploration into the psyche of an endlessly fascinating man. It is a must-read and an absorbing, brilliant single-volume biography.
Richard Nixon's was as multifaceted. He was a man plagued by insecurity and doubt, yet he was also driven by an unrelenting ambition to succeed. Nixon saw the world as full of "enemies" who were constantly contriving ways to destroy him. This paranoia was a central theme in his life and presidency. Farrell deftly explores the root of Nixon's psychological makeup, painting a portrait of a man who could be simultaneously exposed and fragile, yet hard and, at times, undeniably evil in his actions.
Nixon's journey from a humble upbringing to the presidency is both inspirational and cautionary, offering insights into the American dream and the pursuit of power at all costs. It's a story that can leave readers both intrigued and repelled, and Farrell masterfully captures this ambivalence.
It's impossible to discuss Richard Nixon without acknowledging the dark underbelly (overbelly?) of his political career. His involvement in the Watergate scandal, his role in the Vietnam War, and the shadow of the "Southern Strategy" have cast long and contentious shadows over his legacy and the nation. Nixon's propensity for political subterfuge, manipulation, and an obsession with his "enemies list" exemplifies his underhanded nature. Farrell doesn't shy away from highlighting these aspects, and it adds depth to his biography.
Richard Nixon: The Life is a commendable piece of writing, storytelling, and history. Farrell's thorough research and his commitment to presenting an unvarnished portrait of Nixon is commendable. What makes this biography particularly noteworthy is that Farrell manages to strike a balance; he neither falls in love with his subject nor demonizes him excessively. This equilibrium allows readers to form their own opinions on Nixon while being guided by a gifted author.
Farrell's writing is engaging, and his narrative is structured in a way that captivates readers from start to finish. He takes you on a journey through Nixon's life, from his early years to his ultimate downfall, creating a cohesive narrative that never loses its grip on the reader.
From a policy perspective, it’s hard to overstate the importance of Richard Nixon. His tenure as President saw significant developments, such as the opening of relations with China and the establishment of the Environmental Protection Agency (not done out of a desire to help the environment, but a milestone nonetheless). His influence on domestic and foreign policy remains significant to this day, with often tragic consequences.
However, Nixon remains a cryptic figure, and Farrell doesn't attempt to unravel all the mysteries surrounding him. Instead, he leaves some aspects of Nixon's character and decisions open to interpretation, allowing readers to grapple with the enigmatic nature of this complex man.
Overall, this book is a superb exploration of one of America's most polarizing figures. It delves deep into the psychology of a man who will puzzle and captivate historians for years to come. Farrell's approach is balanced yet critical when necessary.
Nixon's presidency is a reminder of the need for vigilance in holding leaders accountable, and Farrell's biography serves as a vital tool for understanding this complex chapter of American history. Whether you are a history buff, a political enthusiast, or simply someone curious about the enigmatic Richard Nixon, this book is a must-read. Richard Nixon may have been influential, cryptic, exposed, fragile, hard, and, at times, evil, but his life story remains endlessly fascinating, and this biography does it justice.
Lyndon Johnson
This is it. These are the books that launched my journey to read a biography of every president. They are still the best. Engrossing, exhaustively researched, and endlessly fascinating. They’re long, and it’s a big project, but if you like biographies, you need to read them at some point.
The Path to Power by Robert Caro
Means of Ascent by Robert Caro
Master of the Senate by Robert Caro
The Passage of Power by Robert Caro
Tier One
This is it. The top of the mountain. The greatest presidential biographies ever written. Why stop there? The greatest biographies ever written. The greatest history books ever written. The greatest books ever… ok, I’ll stop there, but if you told me that you thought these were the best books of any kind ever written, I wouldn’t argue. All the pathos and grand scope of Tolstoy combined with the most exhaustive research you’ll ever find. They are perfect. Long, but perfect.
So, let’s get into it.
Robert A. Caro's monumental series of books on Lyndon B. Johnson stands as an awe-inspiring testament to the power of research, determination, and narrative craftsmanship. Stretching across four volumes (with a fifth in the works), Caro's examination of the life and career of one of America's most enigmatic and complex political figures is a literary masterpiece that transcends the traditional boundaries of biography.
The story of Lyndon B. Johnson is the story of the American Dream personified. Raised in the impoverished Hill Country of Texas, Johnson emerged from obscurity to become one of the most influential figures in American politics. This rise to power is a testament to Johnson's indomitable determination and cunning political acumen. Caro masterfully captures this remarkable journey, which serves as a source of inspiration for anyone who believes that a humble beginning need not define the course of their life.
But as Caro demonstrates, Johnson's ascent to power was not without its controversial and morally ambiguous moments. Johnson was known for his ruthless political maneuvering, and the infamous "Box 13" scandal in his 1948 Senate race stands as a stark reminder of his willingness to do whatever it took to secure victory. While such actions may be viewed with disdain by some, Caro presents them with a nuanced perspective, forcing readers to grapple with the complexity of a man who would go to great lengths to achieve his goals.
One of the most remarkable aspects of Caro's work is his ability to paint a vivid portrait of a man who was both a champion of civil rights and a figure who exhibited troubling racism at times. Johnson's political career was marked by his support for groundbreaking civil rights legislation, culminating in the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. These landmark achievements were instrumental in attempting to scale back some of the long history of racial discrimination in the United States. Caro skillfully examines the dichotomy of a man who, while championing civil rights, could also use derogatory language and employ questionable tactics when it suited his political purposes. Johnson's ability to adapt and evolve in response to the changing times is emblematic of the broader evolution of American society in the mid-20th century, and Caro captures this transformation with precision and insight.
Caro's writing style is unique in the realm of biography. He is not only known for crafting captivating prose in the traditional sense but also for his tireless dedication to research and his remarkable storytelling ability. His commitment to unearthing every detail of Johnson's life and the era in which he lived is unparalleled. Caro's meticulous attention to detail, exhaustive interviews, and extensive archival research result in a level of depth and richness that few biographers can match.
The books in Caro's series are not for the faint of heart. They are long and densely packed with information, making them a formidable undertaking for even the most dedicated readers. However, the rewards of delving into Caro's work are immeasurable. He doesn't merely provide a biographical account of Johnson, he transports the reader to the tumultuous times in which Johnson lived and the corridors of power he navigated.
In addition to its focus on Lyndon Johnson, Caro's series also serves as a fascinating exploration of the broader political and social landscape of mid-20th-century America. Caro skillfully weaves the stories of other key figures, such as Martin Luther King Jr., Sam Rayburn, and John F. Kennedy, into the narrative. This approach not only enriches the reader's understanding of Johnson but also provides mini-biographies of these influential individuals, creating a comprehensive tapestry of the era.
One of the most remarkable aspects of Caro's writing is his ability to humanize the giants of history. He strips away the mythologies that often surround figures like Johnson, revealing the personal struggles, insecurities, and ambitions that drove them. This nuanced portrayal of historical figures allows readers to connect on a deeper level, realizing that these men were not infallible heroes or nefarious villains but rather complex individuals navigating the turbulent waters of their time.
Lyndon B. Johnson's presidency was marked by tumultuous events, from the Civil Rights Movement to the Vietnam War (we’re awaiting more detail on this in the coming book). Caro's meticulous research and compelling narrative provide readers with an intimate look into Johnson's decision-making process, the internal struggles he faced, and the high-stakes game of politics. Caro's ability to contextualize these events within the larger framework of Johnson's life and career elevates the series beyond a simple biography. It becomes a comprehensive examination of a pivotal period in American history.
Caro's books on Lyndon B. Johnson are, without a doubt, some of the most engrossing and enlightening books ever written. They offer readers a front-row seat to the transformation of a nation and the complex life of a man who played a central role in shaping it. The series is a testament to the power of research, the resilience of the human spirit, and the intricate interplay of ambition, ethics, and power.
In conclusion, Robert A. Caro's series on Lyndon B. Johnson is a monumental achievement in the realm of biography and historical writing. Caro's tireless dedication to research, his ability to capture the complexity of his subject, and his masterful storytelling combine to create a literary experience that is both intellectually rewarding and emotionally resonant. These books are not to be taken lightly, but for those willing to embark on this journey, the payoff is a deeper understanding of one of the most enigmatic figures in American history and the era in which he lived. Robert Caro's work stands as a testament to the enduring power of the written word to illuminate the past and inspire reflection on the present.
They don’t get better than this.
John F. Kennedy
A hero? A villain? A symbol for a generation? A spoiled rich kid? In the end, maybe a little bit of all of those things. Frederick Logevall’s sublime first volume on JFK’s early life introduces us to a man we know so much and so little about.
JFK: Coming of Age in the American Century, 1917-1956
Tier 2
I debated a series of Kennedy biographies before landing on Fredrik Logevall’s newish book on him. It’s the first of a proposed two-volume biography, so I haven’t gotten to Jack’s presidency. I haven’t gotten to the famous 1960 campaign or the countless seminal moments that defined his short time in office. I, naturally, am aware of those moments and decisions but have only seen them through other eyes (most notably Robert Caro’s in the comprehensive multi-volume LBJ biographies coming next week). When I finished this book, I debated augmenting Logevall’s account with another single-volume biography. But, I ultimately chose not to as I so enjoyed this book that I’d rather wait for Logevall to finish the story.
This book is wonderful. It easily would be a tier-one biography for me, but I simply need to wait for him to finish. I can’t readily claim this to be on par with Morris’s books on Roosevelt before it’s finished. But, speaking only for this volume, I have to say it is essential reading.
Kennedy is a figure whose shadow often blots out the sun. Both Eisenhower and, until Caro’s work and a bit of an LBJ revival, Johnson were swallowed up into JFK’s orbit. This happens in presidential history. Taft and McKinley know the touch of that shadow all too well. It’s hard to constantly be compared with so imposing a figure. However, where either Roosevelt, Lincoln, or Washington cast their shadow in deeds (whether as president or otherwise), Kennedy’s is a shadow of perception. He is emblematic of a moment. A passing of the torch, a mark of a new generation and attitude. A break with the past. He is not known as much for his actions as for an idea. Youth. Charm. The burgeoning realization of the American Century. These are the things we remember Jack for.
This volume details Jack’s life before he ran for president. It takes you through his wealthy but often challenging childhood. It paints a vivid and sometimes alarming portrait of his overbearing father and the competitive environment he created for his children.
Joseph Kennedy Senior wanted one of his children to be president. He made no qualms about that desire. He was a man who had conquered the world in so many ways, and now he longed for that final moment of triumph. He didn’t care what the cost was, he would see one of his children inaugurated as president.
That child was supposed to be Joe Kennedy Junior. The golden child, if you will. Charming, intelligent, handsome. His life was laid out for him at a young age, and much like Royalty, he was trained for the position he was to assume. Joe Kennedy Sr. opposed the war in Europe and even famously proclaimed, “Democracy is finished in England. It may be here [the United States].” But, for all his numerous faults, he saw how the political tide was turning and understood that his son, Joe Kennedy Jr., the future President of the United States, needed to serve. No one would have a viable political career post-war without having served and seen considerable action. This idea and the lifelong pressure from his father likely motivated Joe Jr. to volunteer for the dangerous, top-secret mission in which he was killed.
Jack Kennedy understood immediately what his brother’s death meant. Gone were his dreams of becoming a novelist, wealthy layabout, or a lawyer. Gone was his life as he knew it. There would be no time for him to meander through the world and find his calling. He was now to pick up his brother’s mantle. He would be president.
This is just one of the countless moments in this book that Logevall details with a deft touch. He doesn’t make Jack out to be some fabled or tragic figure, but he gives you scope. He allows you to see how this man, who rose to be a figure of mythic proportions, was formed—the pressure and expectations combined to alter and distort him.
The book details his time spent in the Navy. Logevall avoids the hagiography that is so common in these kinds of books. He points out that Kennedy likely should not have been in command of the PT boat (his father pushed for the appointment) or probably even serving in the military due to his crippling back problems. The PT boat's sinking was partially due to Kennedy’s inexperience and negligence. But, once disaster struck, there is no avoiding Kennedy’s heroics. With his bad back, which was further damaged in the collision, he towed Patrick McMahon (the most injured of the crew) to safety. It took four hours, and Kennedy transported McMahon near lifeless body by clenching a life jacket strap between his teeth. After they arrived at an island, Kennedy made numerous other swims to attempt to find help. It is a story of remarkable bravery, even if he was somewhat to blame for the initial disaster.
His father hid the bad and petitioned for him to win the Congressional Medal of Honor. I’m not interested in litigating whether he deserved that or the Pulitzer Prize that he received for Profiles in Courage, a book he likely had substantial assistance in writing. Kennedy’s life is full of stories like this. You can see them how you’d like to see them. If you want to turn him into a hero, you can. If you prefer him as a spoiled rich kid who didn’t earn anything (LBJ’s vision of him), you can also reach that conclusion.
As with most things, I'd say he’s somewhere in between. He could show great courage and resilience, and he possessed an unmistakable charm. Logevall’s book is full of stories of him campaigning and recovering from his various ailments (twice, he had his last rites read to him by a priest in moments they were sure he was about to die) that show that charm. But he was also helped along at every stage by his wealth and fame. His is not a story of a man coming from nothing to reach the highest office in our nation (again, we’ll see that next week with Johnson), but it is a fascinating story about expectation, wealth, and pressure.
Logevall paints a vivid portrait of Jack as a young man. It’s exciting and nuanced, and he’s a fantastic writer. I cannot wait for the second volume and highly recommend this book.
Dwight D. Eisenhower
Dwight D. Eisenhower. The bland representation of the imagined utopia of the fifties. A brilliant military mind who was forced into politics. Or, that’s what they tell you. The truth is quite the opposite.
Eisenhower in War and Peace by Jean Edward Smith
Tier 2
This is an excellent biography written by one of the genuinely great biographers of our time, Jean Edward Smith. He also wrote the FDR biography that I chose for this project, and while I felt that one left a little meat on the bone, that does not diminish Smith’s talents as a writer and historian. In this instance, I felt his book was comprehensive and enjoyable.
Dwight D. Eisenhower is an interesting figure. His public persona is one of a boring but stable man and president. A military genius who adeptly pivoted to the political sphere after his career as a general was finished. His greatest hour is remembered as occurring while he was on the battlefield and not in the White House. Having read Smith’s book, I feel that all these assumptions are incorrect, and almost the opposite is true in every instance.
There is a great deal of background on his early life and previous service, but I think it’s best to jump right into his command during World War II. This is, after all, what he will always be remembered for. Now, a lot of discussion surrounding the military commanders in WWII is a bit of a mess to sift through. There were huge egos (aside from Dwight, you famously had Montgomery for the British and Patton for the Americans), and everyone talked during and after the war. They could be petty and vindictive, and everyone wanted their share (and more) of the credit. This makes it hard to know exactly who to believe in these things. No one wanted to take the blame when there was a failure, and, as the saying goes, success has many fathers. What seems to be clear from my reading is that Dwight was no military genius. He didn’t have a remarkable sense for strategic initiatives, and he was not some legendarily inspirational figure. He was, instead, a sublime organizer.
Smith is quick to highlight his mistakes and failings during the war—Operation Market Garden, The Battle of the Bulge, North Africa, Sicily, and the eventual push into Germany are all criticized at length in this book. They should be. Eisenhower did not cover himself in glory in any of those situations. But a strategic genius was not what was needed to win the war. The Allied forces had greater numbers and supplies. And, if required, they also had brilliant generals and commanders throughout their ranks with egos to match their brilliance. What was needed was a moderator. A politician, if you will.
This is, of course, ironic, given the reputation that Eisenhower has. He is seen as a largely apolitical individual, but Smith’s book paints him as quite the opposite. He was charming, charismatic, and could delegate and handle the massive egos that proliferated through the European theater. Smith successfully argues that, despite his failings and mistakes, the war in Europe was brought to a swift conclusion due to Eisenhower’s proficiency in those realms. His talents as a politician, not a military mind, distinguished him.
These talents were on full display after the war. There was a brief period where he contemplated not entering the US political arena as he wondered if more power would be had as the Supreme Commander of NATO forces. Ultimately, he saw the value in leaving the military and running for president. He roundly defeated Adlai Stephenson (a tragically forgotten man, but that’s a different story) and took office in 1953.
His time as president is overshadowed by his successor. Kennedy was a vibrant figure, and the sun of his short presidency seems to have blotted out Eisenhower’s time in office. He’s seen as the old guard who was only there to give way to Kennedy and the new generation. This is an unfair characterization (Kennedy had this effect on both his predecessor, Eisenhower, and his successor, Johnson, but we aren’t there yet).
Eisenhower’s presidency is seen as more idyllic than it truly was. The fifties, in general, are viewed as boring and prosperous and little else. But, of course, this is only as seen from a narrow perspective. If you were black, the fifties were anything but boring or prosperous. It was a brutal and transformative decade that left countless dead and more inspired to fight. Eisenhower wasn’t nearly active enough when it came to Civil Rights. He was content to sit back and let it play out, only acting once there was no other choice.
Similarly, he did not do enough with the Red Scare and Senator McCarthy. Given his immense popularity and close relationship with the returning GIs, he could've swayed public opinion considerably if he’d spoken out. But that would’ve been to risk his standing and popularity. It would’ve meant he might’ve endured the same outlandish lies that McCarthy was directing at others. And Eisenhower was too crafty and ambitious to let those issues taint him, even if he did feel McCarthy was a detestable figure.
But it wasn’t all bad. Eisenhower was, much as in the war, an effective delegator. He oversaw others and knew how to get the most out of them. He also knew when to say no. His advisors once argued that he should drop three atomic bombs on Vietnam (a conflict that was only beginning), and he not only dismissed the notion but also expressed his disbelief that they even suggested such an action. Moments like this rarely get as much consideration as they should. We are quick to criticize or praise an action but slower to acknowledge the courage it takes to say no. Eisenhower had that courage, and he should be commended for this.
His finest moment may have been his farewell address, where he warned the nation of the growing military-industrial complex. For a man so defined by his military service to give this warning was a brave act. As the years go by, it has been made abundantly clear that his warning was correct and, tragically, ignored. Still, he deserves considerable plaudits for giving this warning, even if it was all for naught.
This book details countless other interesting stories and moments of triumph and defeat. He was a man with a temper. He carried on an affair during World War II. He was a brilliant bridge player and a difficult man at times. Smith would argue he is one of our greatest presidents (and Americans). I would fall short of that assessment, but he’s not what you imagine him to be. He is not some boring representation of fifties prosperity. He is not a military genius who was forced into the political arena (like Grant, say). He is, rather, a complex man, and this book does a wonderful job of painting that complicated portrait.
Harry S. Truman
Harry Truman. This is one of the best biographies I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. Truman is a fascinating figure and president. He was flawed and made mistakes, but don’t we all?
Truman by David McCullough
Tier One
They don’t get much better than this. The only single-volume presidential biography that I feel is better than this is Grant by Ron Chernow. And it’s close. This is everything you want from a biography. It is expansive and exhaustive. It is entertaining and thought-provoking. It takes a figure you likely never really thought about and brings him to life. It is exquisite—a biography for the ages.
The presidency had been shaped for the past twelve years by a man who was larger than life. A figure that so towered over our national politics that people didn’t even think about his Vice President. Why would you? FDR would rule forever.
And he was famously not a man to care much about his Vice President. John Nance Garner, FDR’s Vice President from 1933 – 1941, allegedly once said, “The vice presidency is not worth a bucket of warm spit.” (I’m not sure he actually said this, but it’s a great line). This is not solely because the office itself is toothless and morbid. You’re simply waiting around for someone to die. There have been countless other presidents, from the first, John Adams, all the way up to the present, who have bemoaned (privately or publicly) the pointlessness of that office. But under FDR, it appears to have been particularly neutered. Some presidents go out of their way to include the Vice President in the nation's governance. FDR did not. He was president. He was in charge. And sometimes, as was the case with Truman, he hardly knew the man who would replace him in the event of tragedy.
FDR likely would’ve preferred to keep his previous Vice President, Henry Wallace, on the ticket in 1944, but he was deemed too liberal for the more conservative faction of the Democratic Party. FDR didn’t want to risk losing the election at such a critical time for the nation and the world at large, so he acquiesced. He gave a list of two people, one of whom was Truman, and the rest is history.
Truman’s Vice Presidency was, in fact, toothless. He cast some tie-breaking votes in The Senate and presided over official events. Then, after eight two days as Vice President, the man from Kansas with a shadowy past became president. His predecessor, a towering figure in American history, died just as the war neared its end and the nation prepared for brighter days. It was as if FDR made some cosmic deal with the devil to get us through that war, and just as it was about to end, his time ran out.
Of course, it wasn’t quite over yet. Germany surrendered just under a month after FDR died. All that remained was Japan and a decision that Truman will always be remembered for.
He was unaware of the Manhattan Project before assuming the presidency. This, in retrospect, given what we know FDR understood about his failing health, was a horrific oversight. Not having your Vice President at least aware of a military advancement of that scale is indefensible. Truman was not a man with much, if any, foreign policy expertise. He was a domestically minded Senator and could’ve benefited greatly from one of the great foreign policy minds in our nation’s history’s advice. At the very least, he should’ve been aware of the project so that he could sit with it and understand the ramifications.
The magnitude of the weapons created in Los Alamos was not lost on Truman. He understood the power at his disposal. Perhaps he did not envision how the world would change due to his decision. Perhaps he truly believed that there was no alternative. I have my doubts about both, but either way, he dropped the bombs. Both of them.
The argument was, and still is, that this decision saved lives. Not only American lives but Japanese civilians as well. I find that a facile argument that does not stand up to scrutiny. All the reading I have done on the subject seems to indicate that Japan was prepared to surrender before dropping the bombs. The US military made the alleged estimates on loss of life, and other experts strongly contest those findings. Japan wanted to negotiate, and Truman and his advisors were unwilling to do so.
Furthermore, they were determined to end the war in the Pacific before the Soviets joined the fight. They did not want to share that victory with anyone else. I believe that they also wanted a demonstration of the vast power they had at their disposal, which would set the post-war world balance firmly in the favor of the United States. As such, they dropped both.
Still, I understand the weight of this decision. He was a man thrust into the most stressful and fraught situation imaginable. One day, he went to sleep a man without real responsibility, and the next day, he woke up with the fate of millions of lives in his hands. He made the decision that ensured the end of a long and bloody conflict. It was likely unnecessary, but it is easy for me to sit here in the comfort of my home, looking back at another man’s decision, and say what he should’ve done. Being in that room, at that time, I wonder what choice I would’ve made.
I won’t go into the destruction and loss of innocent lives that dropping those bombs caused. I also won’t delve into the way this shaped the post-war world. It is enough to say he made a decision, and I believe, according to this wonderful book, that decision weighed heavily on him for the remainder of his life.
Contrary to popular opinion, Truman's presidency did not end with the dropping of the bomb. Foreign policy occupied most of the headlines. The Truman Doctrine, Marshall Plan, Berlin Airlift, the formation of NATO, the Korean War, the creation of the CIA and NSC, and the integration of the armed forces all happened under Truman. FDR was the person most responsible for shaping the modern presidency, but Truman’s footprint is not to be dismissed. He shaped the post-war world to a considerable degree.
Aside from his foreign policy, he has a fascinating and varied domestic record. He proposed what came to be known as the Fair Deal, an extension of Roosevelt’s famous New Deal policies. Among these proposals were national health insurance, an aggressive Civil Rights program (something FDR never pushed for), and a housing act to make it easier for returning GIs to buy homes. These policies were not well received by a Democratic majority Congress. Southern Democrats would not stomach his Civil Rights proposals, and little of the Fair Deal became a reality.
Alternatively, in many ways, the Red Scare (technically the second one, but it’s the more well-known of the two) began under Truman. It would not be fair to place the blame for this horrific moment in American history at the feet of Truman. It was a widespread effort spearheaded by Joseph McCarthy and, to a lesser extent, Richard Nixon and Robert Kennedy. But Truman did create the Federal Employees Loyalty Program in response to Republican accusations that his administration was crawling with communists. Perhaps he should’ve pushed back on this. He initially criticized the famous Alger Hiss trial and McCarthy in the process. Still, Truman understood the political temperature of the nation and wasn’t willing to risk his administration’s agenda on principle.
There’s so much more to say about the Red Scare and Truman’s presidency as a whole. I spent too much time discussing the dropping of the bombs (a common pitfall when remembering Truman), and for that, I apologize. I also didn’t mention any of Truman’s early life (it’s somewhat appalling that I haven’t until now mentioned anyone named Pendergast or their political organization that unfairly tainted Truman’s accomplishments) and his climb from the mail room at The Kansas City Star to the presidency. It was a circuitous and fascinating journey, but you’ll have to read McCullough’s brilliant book to learn more.
For all his failings and mistakes, Truman was a good man and an overlooked president. He was thrust into that office when the world hung on a knife’s edge. Mistakes are bound to occur, but on balance, he was a good president. I’ll leave you with this quote by Truman that I think of often. “It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you do not care who gets the credit.”
Franklin Delano Roosevelt
FDR was president for twelve years. Some hate him, some love him. This week, I take a look at his legacy and how, after him, the presidency would never be the same (for better or worse).
FDR by Jean Edward Smith
Tier 2
This is a fine book. Fine. It’s not excellent. It’s not extraordinary. It’s fine.
This may seem insulting, but I don’t mean it that way. Smith set out to write a one-volume biography of a man who served as president for twelve years. And not just twelve years but twelve of the most influential years in our nation and the world’s history.
It’s not that this is a short book (almost nine hundred pages is anything but short), but rather that there is a colossal amount of information to cover. My mom once told me that as a child, my grandma didn’t understand that there were other presidents. She simply thought it was Roosevelt’s position. She was not alone in believing this.
Some may see this as a bad thing, some as good, but it is impossible to overstate his importance to the nation and its history. There are many arguments about the greatest presidents and FDR’s legacy, but there is no room to debate his place in the historical pantheon of presidents. Good or bad, love him or hate him, you cannot argue about his influence.
Smith’s book does an admirable job of detailing FDR’s life with an emphasis on his presidency. His writing is punchy and direct, and the book is well-paced. It is engrossing, and there are moments of brilliant storytelling. But it moves too fast for my taste. At one point, he attempts to deal with most of the New Deal legislation in one chapter. Again, as I have mentioned in previous posts, the failure here is not on Smith but on me. I wanted more. I wanted a multivolume examination of FDR that leaves no stone unturned. And yet, I turned to a single-volume biography. That is on me, not the author.
Obviously, if I felt that Smith, an accomplished biographer and historian, couldn’t cover FDR’s life in nearly nine hundred pages, it would be comical for me to try to do the same in this post. Instead, I’ll focus on two aspects of the man that I find particularly compelling—his legacy and the changing role of the United States and the presidency.
Let’s start with the latter first. Foreign policy was an afterthought for the first hundred or so years of the United States. The president might argue about tariffs or negotiate trade deals, but the nation was not a global force. There were incursions into this space and the expansion of our borders through wars and land purchases. A navy was built, and ambitions were laid out. It was clear from early on that the United States would eventually be a player on the global stage, but that time had not yet come.
There were presidents who focused more on international dealings. Some rattled sabers, and others spoke softly and carried a big stick. There was even a world war that the United States played a role in ending. In its aftermath, the nation seemed destined to assume its role as a player on that stage. And in some respects, it did. The Great Depression, after all, was a global calamity that originated in the United States. But the post-Wilson presidents returned to the safe confines of domestic politics and isolationism. The aftertaste of World War One (The Great War as it was then known) was bitter, and there was little appetite for more.
FDR changed all that. Maybe it was the times that changed it. His immense vision and ego always placed him at the global table. He was obsessed with his second cousin Theodore Roosevelt (who wouldn’t be) and looked to Teddy’s foreign policy as a guide. But one has to wonder if FDR would've ventured into global politics so aggressively if it weren’t for the renewal of hostilities in Europe that bleed out into the world at large.
But those events aligned to put him in a position of supreme importance when the world's axis hung by a thread. And, though he deserves considerable criticism for the incarceration of Japanese Americans in internment camps and his failure to act more aggressively in assisting Jews during the Holocaust, one has to say he picked the right side. This is one of those moments in history when the right person was in the right place at the right time. The same can be said of his partner in the war, Winston Churchill (if you like biographies, there are several wonderful ones on him. A truly towering figure in history). Other presidents may have wavered in their support for the allies or their insistence on preparing for war. Other presidents may have considered it necessary to prepare for a future in which the Axis powers won the war. Roosevelt did neither. He saw only one path forward—allied victory. He always knew the United States would enter the war eventually and set the nation toward that path early on.
And after the war was won, the presidency changed forever. It was no longer a position that could focus primarily on domestic affairs. The nation was no longer able or willing to be a bystander to history. This has often led to horrific moments and awful decisions. It has repeatedly blemished our nation’s reputation. It has cost money and lives. It has doomed otherwise good presidents whose domestic policies were sound but foreign policies were abhorrent. FDR is the tipping point between what this job once was and what it has become.
This leads us to his legacy. There may not be a president who is more polarizing than FDR. Every president has their defenders and detractors. They have their moments in the sun and the shade (ok, maybe Buchannan didn’t have any moments in the sun). But few others seem to polarize so completely as FDR (maybe Reagan). Some blame him for the Depression, claiming he made a bad situation worse; others say he saved us from complete collapse. Some admire his New Deal policies as creating a social safety net in a time of extreme need; others say they crippled future generations. Some call him one of our greatest presidents; some call him one of our worst.
So, what do we make of him? Well, he was all those things and more. He was ambitious to a fault and cold to some he loved, but that ambition shaped the nation in his image. He was a visionary and an opportunist. He was complicated and president for far too long to make an easy and clean proclamation on his legacy.
What I will say for certain is that he was necessary. As I mentioned before, he was the right man at the right time. He tried. He didn’t always succeed in his policies, but the people needed to see someone trying. They needed to know that their president saw the pain and devastation that had taken hold of the nation and would do what he could to rescue them. Economics is far from a science, and no one will ever know if he made the economic impacts of The Depression better or worse. But he gave the people hope in a time of desperation.
To me, that is his legacy. One of hope and comfort in dark times. Those are the presidents we remember. Those who made the nation feel a certain way. And for that, I believe we should always look to FDR and remember that the president, at their best, can be a beacon of light in the darkness.
Herbert Hoover
Herbert Hoover. Below average president. Not the greatest guy. But a fascinating individual, and Whyte’s biography of him is excellent.
Hoover: An Extraordinary Life in Extraordinary Times by Kenneth Whyte
Tier 2
Herbert Hoover was a bad president. Kenneth Whyte reasonably argues that his presidency was not nearly as bad as remembered. He posits that much of the blame heaped on Hoover is unjust and that his inability to sell himself is at the heart of his reputation. There is validity to this, but it is also essential to hold Hoover accountable for his failures as president. That being said, this book is excellent, and Hoover is one of the most fascinating individuals ever to become president. I was thoroughly blown away by this book and the story of Hoover’s life. I anticipated another Calvin Coolidge and was instead treated to a fascinating biography.
Let’s get some of the presidential stuff out of the way. He was about as qualified of a candidate as you could imagine. So much so that before the 1920 Election, both the Democrats and the Republicans tried to court him. Neither knew exactly where he stood politically and after a period of political upheaval, both parties saw him as a potential candidate. One wonders if his reputation would be different if he’d been a Democrat. Would history view his presidency and life differently? Would FDR have never been elected? How different would the nation's political landscape look if it had been a Democrat in office during the Stock Markey Crash of 1929?
But that is not what happened. Hoover ran as a Republican briefly in 1920 and then again in 1928 after serving under Coolidge as the Secretary of Commerce. In 1928, he easily defeated Al Smith, a beloved Democrat from New York. Hoover’s presidency was bad. His stance on Civil Rights was awful, even for the time. He wouldn’t denounce lynching or support legislative action to combat it and favored a bootstraps approach for minorities (they needed to help themselves). His immigration stance was similarly brutal, and his administration forcibly “repatriated” about a million Mexican Americans, most of whom were legal American citizens. He supported prohibition, and the budget increased under him. Then there was the bonus army, which was a group of WWI veterans and their families who were peacefully demonstrating for their bonuses to be paid. Police went to disperse them, and when things got out of hand, Hoover sent in General Douglas MacArthur, who, as was his wont, took the most brutal action possible. Hoover did not order this action but later supported it.
And, of course, there was the Great Depression. Even nearly a century later, economists debate the causes and what actions could’ve been taken to mitigate its effects. Some say Hoover didn’t do enough. Some say he did too much. Some say FDR is to blame for the full consequences, and if he hadn’t been so reactionary, it would’ve run its course. Some say FDR rescued the nation. The truth, as with all things, is somewhere in between. I can say that Hoover did a poor job of comforting and reassuring the nation in a moment of crisis. Ultimately, comfort, hope, and belief are often more important than any policy. Hoover was a man who kept his cards close to his chest and was not one to utilize the bully pulpit. His successor, FDR, used it as well as almost any president ever has. This, as much as anything, is what shaped Hoover’s legacy. He would always be compared to Roosevelt—the nation’s grandfather, a beacon of light in dark times.
But people are not defined solely by a solitary period of their lives. Hoover may have been a poor president in a crisis, and some of the blame for the Great Depression should certainly be laid at his feet, but what a life he lived.
Hoover graduated from Stanford as an engineer while the nation was in a different financial panic, and he initially struggled to find a job. Finally, he was hired to operate gold mines in Western Australia. They were harsh conditions, and the work was difficult, but he excelled at it. He convinced the company he worked for to purchase a different gold mine, and it quickly became one of their best-producing mines. He advanced through the ranks and became a partner in this company (picking up some very pro-business, anti-worker sentiments along the way), but had a falling out with his boss and was offered a position in China.
Once in China, he picked up where he left off, making the mine profitable but also making some horrible public statements regarding Chinese workers. He discussed racial inferiority and lack of work ethic without restraint, suggesting what essentially amounted to corporate slavery to improve their work. While he was there, the Boxer Rebellion broke out, and Hoover and many other foreign nationals were trapped there during the revolution. After the Boxers were defeated, Hoover went on to travel the world for his company, locate profitable mines, and work to get them working at optimal efficiency (regardless of how brutal the working conditions were).
He left that company and started working on his own. At this time, he had quite the reputation and used it to gain investment to finance his ventures. He was very successful at this and, by 1914, was a wealthy man.
Next, he turned his sights on public service. Woodrow Wilson placed him in charge of feeding occupied Europe. The Germans occupied territory in Belgium and refused to feed the Belgian citizens. They argued that they didn’t have enough food to feed themselves, and the British had a blockade of the North Sea, limiting the amount of food coming into those occupied territories. Enter Hoover, who worked tirelessly to get food to the millions of stranded war victims. He met with German and British authorities and was known as one of the only men who could travel with complete impunity across the war-torn hellscape of Europe during WWI.
After his success in feeding Europe, Wilson put him in charge of the U.S. Food Administration, tasked with securing the nation’s food needs during the war. Hoover seamlessly used volunteers and propaganda efforts to ensure the nation did not starve as a result of entering the war.
Following the war, he continued his efforts in Europe. It would’ve been easy, and historically common, for the allies to leave the defeated nations to their own devices. This would’ve meant massive starvation across much of Europe. Hoover opposed this and provided aid to the defeated Germans and even to famine-stricken, recently communist Russia. In Russia alone, during the famine of 1921-22 (which still cost about six million lives), it is argued that Hoover and the American Relief Administration saved tens of millions of lives.
Next, he joined the Coolidge administration, notably helping with the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927. He was widely praised for his action in that disaster but also suppressed reports of widespread mistreatment of African Americans in refugee camps.
Hoover’s post-presidency is also fascinating. He fiercely opposed the New Deal and FDR overall. I don’t blame him for this. Roosevelt was brutal toward Hoover and his actions as president and, as previously mentioned, represented light to Hoover’s darkness. Hoover became more conservative as the years passed, and FDR became the face of liberalism. Later, though, his reputation would be revived by the likes of Truman, Eisenhower, and Kennedy. He served on presidential commissions and was offered opportunities to rejoin public life, but he declined.
I wouldn’t say that I like Herbert Hoover. I don’t think he was a good president, and he had massive failings as a man. But one does not need to like a subject to like a biography. This book is engrossing and full of stories and places you likely know nothing about. It takes a man who has been largely forgotten and brings him to life. There is scope and tragedy to his tale, and even if I feel that Whyte sometimes tries a bit too hard to defend Hoover, it doesn’t diminish the quality of this biography.
Calvin Coolidge
Calvin Coolidge. I did not like this book. I found it flat and dull, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t read my post about it!
Coolidge: An American Enigma by Robert Sobel
Tier 5
I did not like this book. Apologies to Robert Sobel. I know it takes a long time and a lot of effort to write a book, but I did not like this one. It was slow and dull and did not spend nearly enough time depicting the times that Coolidge lived through. Even a biography of a boring person (I’m not saying that Coolidge was boring, just using it as an example) can come to life with supporting characters and descriptions of the time. This book fails in those regards, and, quite frankly, I couldn’t wait to finish it.
Coolidge is a bit of a litmus test president—some fight to restore or rehabilitate his historical reputation, and others condemn him for his policies. Where you land on this debate is quite telling as to where you land on the modern political spectrum. Those who defend him are often conservatives (Reagan, for example, was an admirer), and those who dislike him are often liberal.
In my reading, I found that while my politics can affect my enjoyment of a biography, they are not solely responsible for whether I like a book. I have thoroughly enjoyed biographies of individuals whose politics I abhor and have hated biographies of people I align with. A biography is not simply agreeing with everything a subject said or did. It is, in fact, never about that. Even the great presidents and historical figures of history failed. That is why biography is fascinating. It is the struggle to comprehend the totality of an individual that makes for a great book.
I say all this to simply note that my political disagreements with Coolidge did not lead to my dislike of Sobel’s book. It is, instead, how the story is told.
Coolidge rose to national prominence due to his handling of the Boston Police Strike of 1919. This is a fascinating historical moment worthy of a book of its own. It’s a story that’s been told countless times. Police wanted to form a union to ensure better pay, working conditions, and the like, but management refused to acknowledge their right to form a union. This was a particularly contentious debate as Police Commissioner Edwin Upton Curtis seemed to worry that if the police unionized, they might side with other unions instead of capital, city officials, and business leaders. After rejecting their right to unionize, the police went on strike, which led to several nights of lawlessness in the city. Labor leaders argued over whether this strike and the anarchy it set loose on the city was helping or hurting labor’s national profile. The strikers were denounced as communists and deserters. Boston’s mayor was ineffectual in his attempts to mediate a settlement. When Commissioner Curtis refused to rehire the striking police officers, Massachusetts Governor Calvin Coolidge supported him, earning him a national reputation as a decisive individual. In the end, nine people died, they put down the strike, restored peace, and hired a new police force.
This should’ve been a fascinating section of this book. It is such a wonderful reflection of the time and place. Labor versus capital was the dominant issue of the age (some would say it still is), and this strike allows one to analyze the many complex issues at play thoroughly. Sobel does not delve into this complexity. He does not spend time building out Curtis, Mayor Peters, or the strikers. He simply demonstrates how Coolidge’s decisive action earned him a national reputation.
And that handling is emblematic of the book and Coolidge himself. It was a missed opportunity on both their parts.
As for Coolidge, I think this moment shows who and what he was. He was not a bad man. He was not full of spite or hatred or evil plans to oppress. But neither was he a brilliant leader. He wasn’t someone to inspire hope or devotion. He wasn’t a political wonk who would build a policy that could shape the nation. He was friendly to capital and the establishment and sought to maintain and continue the status quo.
When he took office after Harding died, he was intent on continuing his predecessor’s policies. He saw that as his responsibility and carried it out as such. He continued to do whatever was possible to encourage and enable big business while rejecting the growth of the government or spending.
After winning the presidency on his own, he continued many of the same policies. He was known for trusting his appointments (something that doomed Harding’s administration to corruption). For example, when it came to taxation and government spending, he went along with his Secretary of the Treasury, Andrew Mellon—a wealthy son and banker and industrialist who, as you could guess, favored business and opposed government spending and taxation.
This is just one of many examples of Coolidge’s governing style. He did not seem to have any concrete vision for his presidency aside from keeping the government small and trusting his appointees.
During his presidency, the nation prospered, but as is so often the case, that prosperity was imbalanced. The wealthy did very well under Coolidge, and the poor suffered. His successor, Herbert Hoover, would catch much of the blame for the Great Depression, but he didn’t diverge much from Coolidge’s economic policies. A tried truism of American politics is that the president receives too much credit for a good economy and too much blame for a bad one. The onset of the Great Depression can be seen in the same light as the 2008 financial collapse. The responsibility for that collapse is placed on George W. Bush’s shoulders. He deserves much of that blame. He was president for eight years and doubled down on all the issues that caused that catastrophe. But his economic policies were not much different from Clinton’s, George H.W. Bush’s, or Ronald Reagan’s. Bush simply was the one holding the bag when the check came due. The same is true of Harding, Coolidge, and Hoover. They all did the same things, and in the end, after years of unchecked and irresponsible economic expansion and deregulation, the bill came due.
In this book’s defense, it was comprehensive. It covered all of Coolidge’s life. Some other biographies fail because of brevity, this is not one of those. At times, Sobel seems too intent on rehabilitating Coolidge’s reputation. At times, he seems indifferent to his subject. I believe there is a great biography here, one that demonstrates how a lack of leadership can shape history. It does not need to be overly critical of Coolidge, but it should illustrate how his years in office shaped the nation and its future. Unfortunately, this is not that book.
Warren G. Harding
Warren G. Harding. Not, as many claim, the worst president of all time, but far from good.
Warren G. Harding by John W. Dean
Tier 4
Harding begins the last stretch of presidents I dreaded reading about. Well, maybe dread is too strong a word, but this run (Harding, Coolidge, Hoover) certainly didn’t excite me. I was pleasantly surprised by one (Hoover), hated another (Coolidge), and was bored by the third. That was this one.
John W. Dean, the author of this work, was best known for his involvement in another scandalous presidency—Richard Nixon’s. He was a key component of the Watergate scandal and, after spending his youth as a Goldwater Conservative, became a strong critic of the Republican Party. It’s possible some of his personal history influenced this book, but for whatever reason, he is exhaustively apologetic for Harding. I think his failure to criticize his subject more was partially at fault for the book’s lack of excitement.
Warren G. Harding was a bad president. No matter how much Dean and other historians try to reshape his legacy, it is an inescapable fact that he was a below-average president. He was not, as some have claimed, the worst president. He did not cause or undo the Civil War, he did not needlessly cost hundreds of thousands of American lives, and he did not bankrupt the world economy. These are distinctions that other presidents carry. Harding was bad but not cataclysmic.
Upon his death from a heart attack during his first time, Harding was beloved. At the time, he would’ve ranked among the most popular and greatest presidents in United States history. Part of that is our natural propensity to lift the dead to the status of saints, but part of it was his reputation. He was seen as even and clean. He was a man of peace in the aftermath of what, at the time, was considered the worst war imaginable. He brokered an international agreement to limit naval expansion and promised to keep the United States out of conflicts, a promise he kept during his short presidency.
But time has a way of reshaping history, and within a decade after his death, Harding’s name was synonymous with corruption and vice. The primary cause of this fall from grace was a series of scandals and an affair. The most notable of these scandals was Teapot Dome.
Before Watergate, this was the definitive presidential scandal in American history. It centered, as so much of America did then (and now), on oil. Essentially, there were some oil reserves that the Navy had set aside in case of emergency. Let’s say the United States was at war and needed to send ships around the globe, it would be good to have some oil on tap. Of course, businessmen didn’t agree with this idea. They wanted to drill it. Harding’s Secretary of the Interior, Albert B. Fall, agreed… for a price. He then took a large bribe in exchange for drilling leases bought from the government at low prices.
Honestly, given the expectations we have for our politicians these days, this seems expected, but at the time, it was quite the scandal. There is no evidence that Harding knew about Fall’s actions, but that hardly is an excuse. The president is responsible for his cabinet, and Harding bares some of the weight for Teapot Dome (for a more detailed book on this scandal that had wide-ranging implications and spelled the beginning of our nation’s corrupt relationship between big oil and politics, see Laton McCartney’s book The Teapot Dome Scandal).
There were other scandals. Harding appointed Harry M. Daugherty, a lobbyist and back-room politician with a well-earned reputation as a scoundrel, as Attorney General. Daugherty was never convicted of anything, but it’s widely assumed he was corrupt.
And then there was Charles R. Forbes, the director of the Veterans’ Bureau, who was a particularly slimy individual. He was tasked with setting up hospitals nationwide to care for the 300,000 wounded World War I veterans. Being the terrible person he was, he saw this as an opportunity to enrich himself. He defrauded the government by inflating construction and land costs and splitting the profits with his friends and the contractors. But he didn’t stop there. He started selling much-needed medical supplies at a fraction of their cost and pocketed the profit. Again, Harding did not know about Forbes’ actions at the time, but when he found out, instead of punishing him, he allowed Forbes to resign and flee to Europe. This was consistent with Harding’s actions as president. He was far too concerned with avoiding the appearance of scandal instead of rooting out the rampant corruption in his administration.
Harding also had a fifteen-year affair with a woman named Carrie Fulton Phillips. This came to light after his death and further hindered his reputation. There were rumors of other affairs and children out of wedlock.
These scandals, paired with Harding’s poor handling of the railroad strike of 1922, the Bonus Bill, and his general pro-business stance, have shaped his reputation. Historians have attempted to rehabilitate him, Dean first among them, but it rings hollow. As I said, he was not the worst president, as is sometimes claimed, but he was bad. He may not have known about the actions of people like Fall, Daugherty, and Forbes, but he appointed them and created an atmosphere where corruption could take hold. It could've been excused if it had been one scandal or one greedy appointment. Everyone makes mistakes. However, Harding’s administration was rooted in corruption and graft. That is on him.
In general, this short, dull book reads more like a man trying to defend a friend than a biography. I wouldn’t recommend it.
Woodrow Wilson
Woodrow Wilson. Visionary, progressive, icon, and racist, sexist, failure. History is full of complex individuals who do not fit neatly into a box. Wilson is foremost among them.
Wilson by A. Scott Berg
Tier 2
Woodrow Wilson was an unlikely president. He was an academic, former president of Princeton University, and a relatively unremarkable governor of New Jersey when he ran for president. He was not a man known to possess excessive charm. He did not have some great moment to lean back on. And yet, he became one of the more influential presidents of the early twentieth century. Over a hundred years later, his foreign policy and progressive ideals still exist in our national discourse.
But he is also a prime example of how politics can shift, and one's historical reputation changes along with it. For a long time, Wilson was seen as an exemplary liberal. One who pushed for a global order and a peaceful resolution of conflict. One who fought for progressive policies in education and workers' rights. And yet, he was a virulent racist and fought against women’s suffrage. What do we make of these kinds of presidents?
He was not a bad governor, but he felt he was unlikely to win re-election. He had spared with his party machine and pushed forth a progressive agenda as governor, but these acts didn’t make him many friends in New Jersey politics. But he carried the state even though the Republican Taft won it in the 1908 election. From that win, not his later governance of New Jersey, he was tapped for a run for president.
As I mentioned in my post on Taft, there is great debate surrounding Wilson’s presidential victory in 1912. Some scholars would contest that Wilson never would’ve stood a chance against either Taft or Roosevelt had they run on their own. I am more skeptical of this idea. Roosevelt and Wilson ran on a similar platform of progressivism and the intervention of the federal government to correct income inequality and destroy corporate trusts. They likely cannibalized each other’s voters as much as Roosevelt and Taft.
The key to Wilson’s victory was that voters saw what they wanted in him. He courted three-time Democratic nominee and populist icon William Jennings Bryant’s support, securing Democratic progressives to his cause. But he also was a Southerner, raised in the Reconstruction South. The Southern Democrats saw him as a man who would fight against racial equality and women’s suffrage. This two-pronged approach was well-executed and won Wilson the election.
It is also worth noting that Roosevelt lacked the support of one of the two major parties. He got about as close as you can get in our modern two-party state to making it fight without one of those parties' support, but in the end, even Teddy couldn’t get that one over the line.
Wilson’s presidency began with a focus on domestic politics. Ironically, a man remembered for his foreign policy seemed to have no interest or expertise in that arena upon his election. Instead, he was more interested in natural resources, banking reform, antitrust legislation, helping farmers (a pet project of Bryant for years), and that old standard, tariff reduction.
History is a fickle master, and we do not get to decide who will be in charge in significant moments of strife and opportunity. As a nation, the United States was fortunate to have Lincoln in office at the onset of the Civil War. They were unfortunate at other times. The people history remembers tend to be those in charge during these historic moments, for better and worse. Neville Chamberlain was considered an average (or above average) Prime Minister before Munich. Even at the time, Munich was seen as a success, and his handling of the situation was overwhelmingly positive in England.
On the other hand, Churchill was a bit of a joke at the time of Munich. He was seen as a war monger and a failure—a colorful figure who shouldn’t be anywhere near the top job. And now look at them. Churchill is one of the great figures of the twentieth century. Chamberlain is a punchline.
Wilson would likely have been a forgotten president had it not been for The Great War. And even then, he worked to keep the United States out of that war. He campaigned on his success in keeping the nation neutral in the face of global catastrophe. He assured the nation that he would keep Americans off the battlefields of Europe.
That election was decided more on domestic issues, and Wilson won re-election. Not long after that, Germany began a policy of unrestricted submarine warfare. They felt that, regardless of what Wilson claimed, the United States' efforts to supply the Allies with war provisions was a declaration of intent. Wilson could claim neutrality all he wanted, but his actions were seen as anything but neutral. When the Lusitania was sunk, Wilson asked Congress for a declaration of war, and the rest was history.
The Allies would’ve won the war regardless of US intervention, but the introduction of such a large and prosperous nation on the side of the Allies certainly sped up the conclusion. The United States entered the war at an ideal time. They could claim to have brought about peace and assured their position in the post-war discussions. Other nations would argue that the sacrifice of the United States did not compare to that of long-term combatants, but Wilson’s position was established, and he could push for his post-war order.
There is a wonderful book called Paris, 1919 by Margaret MacMillan, which I would highly recommend if you are interested in the conclusion of World War I. It was one of the first history books I devoured and holds a special place in my heart. MacMillan is a fantastic writer, and that peace conference is well worth an entire book.
I do not have the time or space to dissect the Paris Peace Conference, the Treaty of Versailles, or Wilson’s Fourteen Points. I can say that no one gets everything they want, and the path to ruin is paved with good intentions. The Treaty of Versailles is perhaps most famous for setting in motion events that would lead to the most horrific war our planet has known. I firmly believe that we shouldn’t separate the two world wars but instead see them as one long conflict with a two-decade freeze.
Wilson wanted to fight for self-determination and a non-punitive settlement that could set Europe aright. He wanted people to be able to decide how they were governed and for nations to learn to settle their agreements in an international League of Nations. These are lovely ideas. They are liberal and progressive, and it would have been great if they had worked.
Part of the failure falls on Wilson. He was not a good enough politician to sell these ideas to his colleagues in Paris or at home. He failed to bring any Republicans with him to the peace conference, a horrendous political blunder and did not focus nearly enough on selling it to the people. In the end, he compromised on most of his fourteen points. Notably, he allowed France to enact the exact punitive vengeance on Germany that he swore to prevent and gave up on self-determination whenever it was politically expedient (mainly concerning the vast imperialist holdings of the Allies, a defining issue of the war). And he failed to get even his own nation to ratify the peace treaty or join the League of Nations. At one point, there was a potential compromise, but Wilson rejected it and ended any discussion of the United States ratifying the treaty he had worked so hard to finalize.
What do we make of this failure? It was on him. He was not the politician he needed to be to form a new world order. It would’ve been interesting to see someone with Roosevelt’s handle on the bully pulpit try to get it over the line. The United States was isolationist at the time. They would still hold that position at the outbreak of the Second World War. It was a challenging issue to change their minds on, but Wilson did himself no favors.
And his compromises in Paris are difficult to swallow. It is one thing to have lofty ideals and quite another to stick to them. MacMillan's book does an excellent job showing how intractable the other parties were. The war had been long and bloody, and France, in particular, wanted their pound of flesh. But I do not believe we can praise Wilson’s ideals without condemning his failure to see them through.
And that is Wilson in a nutshell. He is a great theoretical president but not a great actual one. He was a man who spoke of a beautiful world but did not work to create that world. It is difficult for us to reconcile these types of men. We want people like Wilson to reflect our views. We want heroes we can hold up and venerate. But it doesn’t work like that. He was a racist. He initially opposed women’s suffrage and seemed to change his mind when he realized they would vote for his party. Unfortunately, he failed to enact his grand visions, and his legacy is that failure. Paris in 1919 set the table for Munich in 1938, and Wilson deserves much of the blame for the failures in Paris.
This does not mean we have to ignore the ideas. It does not mean there are no great lessons to be learned from his rhetoric. But we need to take the whole, not just the parts we like from history.
Berg’s book is very good. It is comprehensive and engaging, but I feel it over-glorifies Wilson. I believe Berg is too quick to forgive his failings and cast blame on others. This is a common failure of biographies. The writer sometimes falls in love with their subject and can adorn rose-colored glasses when discussing difficult moments. It does not mean that you shouldn’t read this book, but only that you should view it with that in mind.
William Howard Taft
William Howard Taft, the man whose legacy is an apocryphal story of getting stuck in a bathtub. But he was so much more than that, and his story is one of ambition, betrayal, and the perils of living in the shadow of a man so large as Teddy Roosevelt.
The Bully Pulpit: Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, and the Golden Age of Journalism by Doris Kearns Goodwin
Tier 1
William Howard Taft by Jeffrey Rosen
Tier 4
Poor William Howard Taft. He is the only president to serve on the Supreme Court (as Chief Justice, no less). He was widely hailed for his legal brilliance, wrestled at Yale, broke up more trusts than Teddy as president, and was a reformer and a peace activist. He was even the last president to date with facial hair. And yet, what is he known for? Getting stuck in the bathtub. Something that never even happened.
He was a rather rotund man, and in a kinder time, we may have sympathized with his plight instead of ridiculing him for it. But why has it come to define his legacy so completely? Why not his years of public service? Why not his baseball fandom or his facial hair?
Well, as with so much history around the turn of the century, the answer seems to be Teddy.
Before we get into Taft, I want to note that two books are listed with this post. I read the first and did not like it. It was brief and cursory and didn’t seem to even touch on the man I could tell was in there. So, I chose also to read Doris Kearns Goodwin’s masterful work on Taft, Roosevelt, and journalism. It is not quite a biography of either of the two men, but it is outstanding. The way she weaves the three stories together and spends time dissecting the individuals and moments that shaped this era is truly the work of a virtuoso. I cannot recommend her book highly enough.
As for Rosen’s, skip it.
Okay, back to Taft. He was very close with Roosevelt. They both worked in the McKinley administration—Roosevelt first as Assistant Secretary of the Navy (a post he received in no small part based on Taft’s recommendation), then as Vice President, and Taft in various positions, most notably as governor of the Philippines. As I mentioned in a previous post, the Philippines was a horrible segment in American history, full of violence and racism. But Taft did not perpetuate that cycle. He seemed to have been a fair and forward-thinking governor. He wanted nothing more than to assist the Filipinos in forming their own nation. Roosevelt, who coveted the same post, would’ve likely been a much different and controlling governor.
Taft never wanted the governorship, just as he later did not seem to desire the presidency. It was always the Supreme Court that excited him. When McKinley sent him to the Philippines, he promised to summon him when a Supreme Court vacancy became available. Of course, McKinley was assassinated, and Taft’s good friend Roosevelt became president.
And then a vacancy on the Supreme Court did open. Roosevelt summoned Taft back from the Philippines to fill it, but Taft declined. He felt there was more work to be done there. Roosevelt respected this, let him stay, and later appointed him Secretary of War. Taft would still have ultimate authority over the Philippines in this role, so he accepted. Roosevelt wanted him close and consulted with Taft frequently on legal issues and general governance. The two become inseparable, and, despite Taft’s comments about never wishing to run for president, he soon came to accept that he would be Roosevelt’s successor as the Republican nominee.
As happens with so many people in power, Taft’s ambitions changed. I don’t know if he ever desired to become president, but he no longer was enticed by a mere seat on the Supreme Court. He wanted to be Chief Justice and turned down two potential appointments to the bench from Roosevelt.
It seems that Teddy saw Taft as a spiritual successor to the presidency. He may have also seen him as a man he could manipulate into action when necessary. Roosevelt always regretted his 1904 proclamation that he would not run for reelection in 1908, and it seems possible that he saw Taft as the next best thing. A close friend who shared his ideologies and, perhaps, was pliable.
This is not how things played out.
Taft was not a far departure from Roosevelt. As I mentioned, he continued with Teddy’s anti-trust work, but Roosevelt was a man who needed the spotlight. He was also, unlike Taft, a brilliant politician. Teddy could sense the changing tides of popular opinion before they crested. He could connect with people and bind them to him. He was larger than life. He lives on in our imaginations to this day. Taft did not possess any of these qualities. He was a party stalwart and a brilliant legal mind but no politician.
Ultimately, they split. Roosevelt went left, Taft right. Roosevelt became obsessed with furthering the Progressive Movement, and he came to see Taft as increasingly conservative. I think they played off each other here. Teddy saw a lane open to the left of the Taft and, in response, Taft drifted to the right.
And then the Election of 1912 came, and Teddy wanted back what he’d abdicated. It was a close-fought thing at the 1912 Republican National Convention, and despite popular sentiment being with Roosevelt, Taft and his conservative allies won a narrow victory. But Teddy wasn’t about to take that standing down. He broke from the Republican Party and formed the Bull Moose Party, running on a progressive platform that sought to end the corrupt connection between business and politics.
The election was brutal. It contained the famous moment when Roosevelt was shot before a speech and, instead of seeking medical treatment, gave the full ninety-minute speech. Legendary stuff.
Taft ran a campaign that befitted the man. It was quiet and dignified, and discussed his belief that judges should have more power than elected officials. It was a conservative campaign for an increasingly conservative man. The Republican Party fractured and lost its progressive wing. They never quite regained it, and the current iteration of the Republican Party as a conservative party was born in this election.
In the end, Roosevelt’s magnetism saw him best Taft (and Socialist Eugene V. Debs, who received his highest vote tally in his five presidential attempts) but fall to Democrat Woodrow Wilson, another progressive. The combined Roosevelt and Taft votes would’ve won easily, but it’s hard to say whether either candidate would’ve carried the election on their own. Roosevelt may have failed to win over the increasingly powerful conservative business interests in the Republican Party, and Taft never would’ve won over Roosevelt’s progressives.
It is, perhaps, the most fascinating single election in American history. Four distinct and enthralling individuals running against each other. Three of them presidents. Two of them former friends turned enemies. And, in the end, it reshaped American politics. The Republican Party became the party of business, capital, and conservatism. The Democrats began their slow journey to the left.
But the true tragedy here is that these men lost each other. It seemed to have been particularly difficult for Taft. Roosevelt was a sun hurdling through space. Everything orbited around him, and he didn’t always seem to understand the shrapnel he left in his wake. They would eventually reconcile, but it’s hard to recapture that spark after the light has gone out.
Taft would become Chief Justice and serve in that post for years.
Roosevelt would regret giving up the presidency and longed to be the man in charge during the First World War. And he almost was. Imagine how different the world would be if he had been. If instead of Wilson’s attempts to keep the United States out of a European conflict, Roosevelt had thrust us in. Would it have been a shorter war? Would we have recklessly wasted America’s position as post-war peacekeeper? Would Roosevelt’s charisma have been better able to sell his version of the League of Nations?
It is a fascinating thought exercise, but ultimately, it is unfair. Here we are again, in Taft’s post, talking about Roosevelt. It’s the curse of being linked to such a volcanic figure.
In the end, remember that he never got stuck in a bathtub and was the last president with facial hair. At least that will be a mild improvement on his legacy. Also, read Goodwin’s book. It is outstanding.