Knowing When to Hold ‘em or to Fold ‘em

The presidential campaign has just begun and pundits are asking hard questions about which of the candidates has the right stuff for the job. Texas Gov. George W. Bush’s ignorance of foreign affairs, for example, has triggered understandable skepticism about his suitability for the highest office.

Bush’s supporters point to Ronald Reagan’s limited background in foreign policy, saying it didn’t impede his success in defeating Soviet communism. Yet, Bush’s critics see this analogy as less than convincing: Reagan’s public observations on international affairs, beginning in 1946, however superficial, and his commitment to some basic propositions set him apart from Bush, who has small acquaintance with or clear ideas about overseas problems. Being a C student (or worse: Bush won’t release his transcripts) and a young governor with no foreign-policy background is no recommendation for the White House.

Is substantial political experience really essential for success in the Oval Office? Do presidents need to be knowledgeable about domestic issues and foreign affairs to do well on their job?

Almost always, the answer is “yes.” All your knowledge might mean nothing in a crisis, though. James Buchanan, one of the longest-serving government servants, was a miserable failure as president on the eve of the Civil War. Circumstances beyond his control overwhelmed the expertise that voters hoped would lead the country away from a fratricidal bloodletting.

Every one of the late-19th-century presidents, who, with the exception of Grover Cleveland, have largely become faceless characters in the presidential pantheon, were men with reasonable credentials. Their ineffectiveness was largely the result of a national reaction against Abraham Lincoln’s arbitrary rule during the Civil War. For 35 years after 1865, the country preferred a small-bore presidency. Their public-affairs backgrounds gave them little help in compiling memorable presidential records.

Our smartest presidents have known not to take their time in politics and high office as assuring their success in the White House. Experienced politicians have understood that pragmatism is an essential ingredient of wise governance.

John F. Kennedy, despite 14 years as congressman and senator, was mindful of what limited guidance his time in Washington might provide him in dealing with the great domestic and foreign issues of his administration. When he told the historian Arthur Schlesinger Jr. that he wanted him to serve as a special assistant in the Oval Office, Schlesinger asked, “What will I be doing there?” “I don’t know,” Kennedy replied. “I don’t even know what I’ll be doing there, but you can be sure we will both be busy more than eight hours a day.”

Kennedy’s quip was revealing: It showed his recognition of how pragmatic, how alert a president must be to changing circumstances if he is to be an effective leader. Every effective president has been, as Herbert Hoover said of Franklin D. Roosevelt, “a chameleon on plaid.” At times, Roosevelt was a model of casualness about presidential decisions. When one advisor expressed anguish over making the correct choice on a difficult question, Roosevelt counseled against excessive concern. You are an educated man, the president told him. If a truck driver were doing your job, he would still have a one-in-two chance of being right. Your background improves the odds on your making a wise choice.

Roosevelt’s advice reveals much about presidential preparation for effective service in the White House. Roosevelt wasn’t ready to turn the advisor’s job over to a truck driver or to anyone else with less knowledge and experience. Roosevelt understood there were too many uncertainties in human affairs to assure presidential mastery in dealing with the many domestic and foreign-policy questions that came to the Oval Office. No one man, or group of men, could ever know enough about everything to assure a good result in every crisis or to every public problem.

Yet, whenever we have a choice between a knowledgeable, seasoned public servant and an amateur, history suggests we do better to pick the veteran. Consider the numerous examples in which presidential experience and inexperience made for success and failure, respectively, in the White House.

Theodore Roosevelt’s understanding of U.S. history and his travels around the United States and abroad, where he became acquainted with European leaders, gave him a special feel for what he needed to do to inspire and unify a divided society at home and assure U.S. influence abroad. His service as assistant secretary of the Navy, governor of New York and vice president gave him an understanding of national politics that helped make his presidency the most successful since Lincoln saved the Union.

Woodrow Wilson was a match for TR in his knowledge of U.S. history, public service, as New Jersey governor, and understanding of national politics. Small wonder that great accomplishments in domestic affairs, including seemingly impossible downward tariff revision, the creation of a federal banking system, antitrust action and political and regulatory reforms punctuated his first term.

Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson and Richard M. Nixon are other cases in point. Kennedy’s naval service in World War II, when navy chiefs trumpeted the illusory accomplishments of largely ineffective torpedo boats, taught him to be skeptical of military leaders. His six years as a congressman and eight as a senator deepened his doubts about the national-security establishment. His unhappy experience with the CIA and national-security advisors in the Bay of Pigs fiasco added to doubts about their wisdom and partly accounts for his brilliant success in resolving the Cuban missile crisis in October 1962.

Johnson’s knowledge of Congress and his native South were essential to his successful civil-rights actions in 1964 and 1965. His experience told him that court decisions forbidding segregation would never carry the authority of congressional legislation in compelling Southern agreement to desegregation. Conservative Southerners, staunch advocates of the Constitution and the rule of law, found it impossible to sustain their support for Southern apartheid once Congress forbid its practice in places of public accommodation. Similarly, the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which eliminated subterfuges denying African Americans access to the ballot, was Johnson’s effective strategy, based on a keen feel for Southern mores, for permanently restoring constitutional rights to a whole class of citizens.

Can anyone doubt that Nixon’s opening to China and policy of detente toward the Soviet Union largely rested on years of experience in addressing foreign-policy questions? Nixon consciously schooled himself in the essentials of world politics and did more to prepare himself in the making of foreign policy than any other president in U.S. history.

At the same time, inexperience has been a prescription for White House failure. Wilson’s little interest in foreign affairs ill-served him and the country during his two terms. Wilson himself said it would be the irony of fate if his presidency had to focus on overseas affairs. His high-handed dealings with Mexico, Haiti and Nicaragua, which drove him into the arbitrary use of military power, left a legacy of instability in Latin America and antagonism toward the U.S. in the Western Hemisphere that harmed the national interest. Wilson’s unrealistic approach to peacemaking at the end of World War I is another case study in how poorly inexperience serves the cause of good intentions.

Hoover was regarded as a knowledgeable man, but his faith in the recuperative powers of laissez-faire capitalism and ignorance of Keynesian ideas on how to deal with a stalled economy were no help to him in handling the worst economic crisis in U.S. history.

Johnson’s limited interest in foreign relations served him poorly in dealing with Vietnam. Johnson, one aide said, thought of foreign affairs as something like the measles--you got over it. Johnson himself said, “Foreigners are not like people I know.” His hope that he could convince Ho Chi Minh to sign on to a billion-dollar development plan--a “new deal” for Vietnam--spoke volumes about Johnson’s ignorance of the man and his aspirations.

President George Bush’s uncontested knowledge of foreign affairs as head of the CIA and as a diplomat served him well in fighting the Persian Gulf war. By contrast, his ineffective response to domestic challenges, to which he had been far less attentive throughout his career, probably deprived him of a second term.

Are there any lessons to be learned from the performance of 20th-century presidents in making judgments about the current crop of candidates? If intelligence, knowledge and government service count for something, both Bill Bradley and Vice President Al Gore deserve the public’s considerable regard. On the Republican side, Sen. John McCain has a striking advantage over Bush and his other competitors for the nomination.

To be sure, political schooling is not the only ingredient for success in the White House. But the history of the U.S. presidency suggests that politically experienced chief executives have an edge over wannabe leaders that should count for something in helping us choose who will lead us into the 21st century. *