Looking for Mr. (Far) Right

In late spring of 2007, with the majority of the American public—not to mention politicians of both parties—disenchanted with the direction of the Iraq War, word went out that the President was seeking a war czar to oversee operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Presidential adviser Stephen J. Hadley explained that “what we need is someone with a lot of stature within the government who can make things happen.” His job description prompted a question from a New York Times reader: “Isn’t this why we have a president of the United States?” (Darlene Popovic, May 1, 2007). You might think the answer obvious, yet it is anything but in today’s leadership vacuum.

Page 41

Not only does this vignette epitomize the drift of an unpiloted ship-of-state, it also set the stage for the first Republican presidential candidates debate a few days later. The absence-at-the-top theme played out in a minor key by the ten middle-aged or beyond white males in dark suits, white shirts, and serious ties. Cultural theorists would recognize the line-up as an advertisement for normative heterosexuality (but hardly for monogamy), though social conformists might have been reassured.

But none of these loyal Republicans broached a passing of the torch; instead, there was a calculated bit of hopscotch around the present occupant of the White House. For apart from some mild second-guessing of the son’s policies, Bush junior was mentioned only once, Bush senior not at all, while Reagan’s name was dropped nineteen times in the general clamor to claim his mantle. The event took place in the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library with the formidable nose of Air Force One protruding into the auditorium. The unspoken question was, Who would best qualify as Reagan II? No one missed a chance to climb aboard the late leader’s optimism. They envisioned a new Morning in America; they sighted a Shining City on a Hill. They smiled, they beamed; their bonhomie bubbled over; they became an instant Optimists Club. Never mind that while each of them kowtowed to the Religious Right, Ronald Reagan had never been much of a churchgoer

Page 65

and any lip service to family values was continually undermined by disputes with his children. Nor was it noted that while he never served in the military, his two military gambits—the withdrawal of the Marines from the terrorist-bombed barracks in Beirut and the Iran-Contra fiasco—were hardly evidence of tough-minded decision-making. What Reagan had mastered was the ability to talk the extreme ideological game but to walk the moderate pragmatic line. He could declare himself to be 100 percent on the “principled, heroic, unyielding, conservative side” of an issue and then “bend to the exigencies of the situation,” observes Nicholas Lehmann in a review of the Reagan diaries (“The Diaries of Ronald Reagan,” New Yorker, May 28, 2007, p. 72).

It was not the shrewd pragmatist but the persona of the determined optimist that the debaters positioned themselves behind. “We must win in Iraq,” said McCain, adding, “I will follow him [Osama bin Laden] to the gates of hell.” “We should never retreat in the face of terrorism,” chimed in Giuliani. All paid lip service to the current president’s surge policy while nitpicking over details. They also talked tough on Iran (Dan Balz and Michael D. Shear, “GOP Field United on War, Divided on Social Issues,” Washington Post, May 4, 2007, p. Al).

Seated front and center that evening was Nancy Reagan, whom the president always called “Mommie,” managing to appear gracious even as the candidates repudiated her pleas for stem cell research and scarcely mentioned women at all apart from their opposition. Giuliani asserted he just hated abortion but waffled on drastic measures like the repeal of Roe v. Wade.

No one broke from the pack, and an air of unreality descended on the evening. Worried Republican strategists scratched their heads and began looking around. Their gaze soon settled on Fred Thompson, former Watergate attorney, former senator from Tennessee, and best known as Arthur Branch, the formidable D.A. of “Law & Order.” Here was a bona fide actor, not one of those rank amateurs. Among his public official film roles, he didn’t get around to playing the president until the 2005 HBO film “Last Best Chance.” His present challenge has also been cast in terms of the past: to “make the case that he is the true heir to the mantle of Ronald Reagan” while yet enjoying sufficient media visibility to receive “an immediate boost in the polls” (Dan Balz and Michael D. Shear, “Thompson Begins Steps for 2008 Bid,” Washington Post, May 31, 2007, p. Al). “It wouldn’t be the first time a В-list actor united the country,” opined Liz Garrigan, editor of the Nashville Scene; moreover, he rides the crest of “widespread Reagan nostalgia” (Washington Post, May 20, 2007). And who else is quite so tall in the saddle? Here was an image of stature without swagger or the heavy saddlebags of a failed war.

To some extent, every presidential contender is taken over and redesigned as the people’s heroic savior from whatever is felt to be afflicting them or missing in their lives. In previous elections, Clinton and Gore appeared on the cover of newsweeklies as “Top Guns” and Clinton as St. George Slaying the Dragon. A cartoon in early summer 2007 depicts a shadowy giant from the back facing an enthusiastic throng, acclaiming, “It’s Ronald Reagan!” “It’s Dwight Eisenhower!” “It’s Teddy Roosevelt!” “It’s Abe Lincoln!” “It’s Our Savior!” The caption reads “Fred Thompson-Rorschach Test.”

More than anyone else, the GOP dream candidate/fantasy figure for 2008 is contrived by a desperate Grand Old Party to restore the mold of Ronald Reagan as their Grand Old Patriarch, a fixture as enduring as Mt. Rushmore’s craggy faces. Not seeing what they like in the season’s first political beauty contest, they began ogling Fred Thompson and, farther off in the wings, Newt Gingrich. Both carry their own baggage: Gingrich’s adultery, Thompson’s philandering and his alleged trophy wife. A variation of Clinton fatigue might migrate to these males who would not likely call their wives or girlfriends “Mommy.” On the other hand, the choreography of the debate included the looming phallic nose of Air Force One, which may subvert the Sunday school chatter of the Righteous Right in favor of political potency.

What all this augurs in terms of real politics is a dilemma for candidates eager to mimic Reagan’s patriotic bluster but leery of the Neocons who took Reagan’s challenge for Gorbachev to tear down the Berlin as having the domino effect of liberating Eastern Europe. Bravura oratory had amplified into marching orders for spreading democracy globally. That utopian fantasy has bit the dust, and the confident voice of its last advocate, Condoleezza Rice, grows more muted by the day. Thus, we are back to the feel-good rhetoric of a Shining City on a Hill and

Page 66

the muscle flexings of manliness. Mitt Romney’s every third word is “strong.” Giuliani vows to go mano-a-mano with Hillary. McCain trumpets military success at all costs. Fred Thompson injects blood sacrifice into the verbal fray (Michael Dobbs, “The Fact Catcher,” Washington Post, September 19, 2007, p. A6) but no one mentions reviving the draft.

Safe to say, whoever gets the nod will be dispatched to central casting, yet whatever appears on his nametag, the likelihood of a Reagan redux grows increasingly remote. It endures mainly because no one else offers the allure of re-enchantment and magical transformation. Standard history, which probes the ways leaders strive to rule, differs from psychohistory, which, in recasting leaders as delegates for fulfilling the deferred needs of the group, probes the ways in which illusion rules. The present situation offers a peculiar variation on this theme. Reagan was often seen as an actor who performed successfully at politics, but the Republican candidates are politicians who play at being Reagan. If Fred Thompson’s acting career held any advantage, it fudged the test on his first public debate when he failed to break from the pack as more than another wealthy white male. Indeed, he was less well-rehearsed than the others and often missed cues to plunge in. Finding his “positions differed little from” the others, David Broder assesses his acting skills, faulting his “frowning expression” and “slow drawl” (“Another Voice in the Choir,” Washington Post, October 11, 2007, p. A19). Similarly, Eugene Robinson noted that “if his goal was to advance the narrative that he’s the next Ronald Reagan—the Great Communicator with the instincts, presence, and glamour of a movie star,” he needs a “bit more time in rehearsal” (“What Happened to Arthur Branch?”, Washington Post, October 12, 2007, p. 17). In sum, no charisma, real or borrowed, shone forth; no show-stopping message was broadcast.

Consequently, major donors are sitting on their hands or defecting to the Democrats; the evangelical base is in full panic mode with Sam Brownback out and Newt Gingrich not getting in; Independents are looming on the horizon. But the election is still a year away—surely enough time to assemble an acceptable Reagan simulacrum.

Page 67