What Makes a President Great?

What Makes a President Great?

What are the elements of presidential greatness? Historian Robert Dallek argues that there are six key qualities in presidential success: activism, vision, pragmatism, charisma, consensus building, and credibility. Luck also plays a part, in Dallek’s view, but the country’s greatest presidents have managed to make their mark even when circumstances seemed to conspire against them.


By Robert Dallek


Forty-one people have served in the presidency. Every one of them wanted to be remembered as an outstanding, if not great, president. Even the most conservative or cautious of America’s chief executives, such as James Buchanan, Calvin Coolidge, and Ronald Reagan, wanted to be recalled as leaders who made a significant difference in the nation's life.


But presidents who espoused passivity or self-denying inhibitions in the use of presidential power generally have not won high standing from historians. Great presidents, for the most part, have been aggressive activists—leaders who asserted themselves in response to domestic and global crises. They have been the presidents who rallied the nation to meet large challenges and who found workable answers to big questions.


Some of the least memorable presidents were those who served in times free of social turmoil. These leaders were often content to be caretakers who saw the country as more in need of freedom from government interference in economic and social matters than federal intervention to reform existing ways of life. Thomas Jefferson, who served in the White House from 1801 to 1809, may have caught the spirit of this conservatism best when he said, "The government that governs least governs best." Ronald Reagan echoed the point in his 1981 inaugural address when he asserted, "Government is not the solution to our problem. Government is the problem."


Yet Jefferson's and Reagan's claims to greatness as presidents rest not on their restraint but on their accomplishments. The 1803 Louisiana Purchase, which roughly doubled the size of the United States, stands as one of Jefferson’s greatest legacies. Likewise, Reagan's ranking as a president stems from his aggressive role as champion of tax cuts and from his commitment to a military buildup to confront the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) during the Cold War.


Activism is only one element in the mix of ingredients that make a great president. Throughout American history at least six other influences have been at work in contributing to success in the White House. First, the country’s most highly regarded presidents have all been great visionaries who could imagine a new national future. This trait was balanced by a second important quality—pragmatism. This pragmatism meant that the visionary leaders could respond flexibly to changing public moods and political circumstances. Third, all of the country’s great presidents have had great personal charm or charisma. A fourth trait of great presidents has been their ability to earn and keep the trust of the public. The great presidents used this trust to become consensus builders in domestic and international policies, the fifth important element in presidential greatness. The sixth element in making a great presidency has been simple luck or favorable circumstance, which has enabled the leaders to put their skills to work.

Vision


The first requirement of presidential leadership, 20th-century historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., asserts, "is to point the republic in one or another direction. This can be done only if the person in the White House possesses, or is possessed by, a vision of the ideal America." Franklin Delano Roosevelt may have stated it best when, borrowing from the Book of Proverbs in the Bible, he declared in his first inaugural speech in 1933: "Where there is no vision, the people perish."


Presidential vision has been especially compelling when it has concrete results, as was most notably true of George Washington's efforts to create a working national government, or Abraham Lincoln's determination to preserve the integrity of the Union during the American Civil War (1861-1865). Similarly, Franklin Roosevelt offered the country a vision of America as a nation powerful enough to defeat Germany and Japan in World War II (1939-1945), but humane enough to improve living and working conditions for working-class Americans. Lyndon Johnson commanded public support with his commitment to end segregation in the South through the landmark 1964 Civil Rights Act, and by promising affordable health care for the elderly through enactment of Medicare. Reagan galvanized the public with his determination to reduce the power and influence of government by promising to lower taxes and cut federal programs.


Vision alone is never enough to assure a president a place in the front rank of presidents. But a compelling set of achievable objectives is a superb start. For a president, the only thing worse than clinging to a failed vision is having no vision at all. The country’s least successful chief executives have been those who had no clear idea of where they wished to steer the ship of state, especially in domestic affairs. James Buchanan and Benjamin Harrison in the 19th century and William Howard Taft and Warren Harding in the 20th century all came to political grief over their inability to define and convey their goals. In recent presidential history, George Bush fell victim to his indecisiveness when during his 1992 reelection campaign he belittled the notion of a strong domestic agenda as the "vision thing."

Pragmatism


Although all great presidents have been visionaries, they have also served the office as sensible realists or instrumentalists, as leaders who understood that political accomplishments often required flexibility of means to reach desirable ends. In a nation composed of a vast array of competing interests, presidential success has always depended at least partially on compromise with determined opponents. The corollary to the proposition that presidents without vision will perish is that without the right balance of political give and take, little, if anything, can be achieved by a chief executive.


Successful presidents have always realized that they could not get very far without constantly accommodating to change—change in events, change in mood, change in ideas, change that offered opportunities to advance American interests. Nineteenth-century American essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson may have captured this spirit best when he wrote "I simply experiment, an endless seeker, with no Past at my back."


Lincoln and Franklin Roosevelt were surely two of America’s most successful pragmatic political leaders. In 1864, Lincoln wrote privately in regard to the Emancipation Proclamation, "I claim not to have controlled events, but confess plainly that events have controlled me." Franklin Roosevelt was, in the words of his presidential predecessor Herbert Hoover, "a chameleon on plaid." His New Deal, as Roosevelt himself described it, was a series of experiments.


The minefield of national politics is strewn with presidents who were too ideological to bend and make concessions, such as Hoover and Andrew Johnson. Others were so lacking in political direction that their administrations faltered under the burden of their drift and lack of initiative. Examples include John Tyler, Millard Fillmore, Rutherford B. Hayes, Taft, Harding, Gerald Ford, and Jimmy Carter.


The leaders who survived and prospered in the White House have been those who had the keenest political sense. This sense required the presidents to combine a clear understanding of their goals with both a carefully judged assessment of what degree of change the country was ready to accept, and a strategic sense of when to accommodate themselves to opponents who were ready to yield on significant points. Without this skill, presidents have set their objectives too low, or expended all their political capital in hopeless battles.

Charisma


The most successful presidents have also been larger-than-life figures, actors on the stage of history with an uncommon capacity to bring drama to the office. "The media bring across the president," presidential scholar James David Barber says, "not as some neutral administrator or corporate executive to be assessed by his production, but as a special being with mysterious dimensions."


Presidents have succeeded and failed in proportion to their effectiveness in making strong use of this power to become popular figures. The most capable have been able to reduce the distance between themselves and the people by diminishing the impersonality of the office, or by using their personal appeal to excite public interest and affection.


Lincoln and Theodore Roosevelt are excellent examples. As president, Lincoln was perceived as a kind of Christ figure, ready to sacrifice himself for the country. One commentator said that Lincoln accepts "the torments and moral burdens of a blundering and sinful people, suffers for them, and redeems them with hallowed Christian virtues." Preaching "malice toward none and charity for all" as the postwar plan for healing national wounds, he invoked the compassion of Christ's teachings, and by so doing lifted himself to a station far above the actions of ordinary presidents and politicians. But more than suffering tied Lincoln to his contemporaries. He was also distinguished by his ambition and his humble upbringing, which made him the quintessential self-made man.


Theodore Roosevelt was the first of the country’s 20th-century chiefs to achieve a degree of heroic status similar to that enjoyed by Washington, Jefferson, Andrew Jackson, and Lincoln. Roosevelt was the country’s first modern media president, and he used his talents as an early public-relations expert to fashion himself into one of the most popular leaders in U.S. history.


Unlike his heroic predecessors, however, Roosevelt’s public allure was not an expression of sacrifice, tragedy, or self-fulfillment. Instead, Roosevelt’s stature came from the popular fascination with his dynamic personality, which reignited national hopes for a unified America, from his articulation of common goals at home, and from his effective assertion of national ideals abroad.


Bill Clinton is an interesting example of how charisma serves a president. Despite his impeachment and trial for high crimes and misdemeanors, Clinton’s approval ratings remained as high as any two-term president this century. Clinton’s personality included personal failings that many Americans could identify with and forgive. With the American economy consistently expanding, Clinton maintained an extraordinary hold on the public. Unlike the Republican-dominated Congress, Clinton impressed most Americans as being on their side. To many, Clinton seemed to be a moderate spokesman for the national interest who was victimized by vindictive opponents.

Credibility and Trust


Successful presidential leadership has always depended on a presidential administration’s credibility and the public’s trust in a president's word. "Trust is the coin of the realm," said George Schultz, secretary of state during the Reagan administration. Presidents have lost their credibility in either of two ways: by breaking with accepted standards of national governance or by promising more than they could deliver. Indeed, observing traditional rules and fulfilling avowed goals have been crucial tests of presidential effectiveness.


Take the cases of Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon in the first category. Johnson's failure to openly consult the public on escalation of the Vietnam War joined with suspicions about his deviousness as a politician to create a "credibility gap." “How do you know when Lyndon Johnson is telling the truth?” comedians asked in the 1960s. “When he strokes his chin or tugs his ear lobe, he is telling the truth. When he moves his lips, you know he's lying.” Likewise, the Watergate break-in and cover-up in the early 1970s destroyed Nixon's ability to govern. The Watergate tapes demonstrated his involvement in "high crimes and misdemeanors" and forced his resignation. But his lost credibility with the public, as much as anything else, compelled him to leave office.


Presidents who make unrealizable promises also court political disaster. Woodrow Wilson moved Americans to accept huge military budgets and sacrifice their lives to fight World War I (1914-1918) by asserting that it would be the war to end all wars and that it would make the world safe for democracy. By 1919, however, it began to be clear that Wilson had set unreasonably high expectations. There was no way to achieve the sort of peace that would permanently end international strife and assure the future of global democracy. Americans lost confidence in Wilson’s judgment, and the U.S. Senate rejected his request to commit the country to involvement in the League of Nations, a world body designed to promote collective security and bring an end to war.


Bill Clinton is an interesting example of how the contemporary public differentiates between lying in a private matter and credibility in public service. By lying about his affair with Monica Lewinsky, Bill Clinton compromised his reputation. But the revelation that he had lied about his involvement with a 21-year-old White House intern did not shatter his presidential credibility. Because his domestic and foreign policies seemed effective, the public did not lose faith in his capabilities as a president. Despite impeachment charges against him for perjury and obstruction of justice, a majority of Americans discounted these alleged crimes as having little to do with his integrity as a public official.

Consensus Building


Vision, pragmatism, charisma, and trust have all been put in the service of building a national consensus for a president's leadership. America’s most astute presidents have understood how vital a broad consensus is to any far-reaching domestic or foreign policy. They have also appreciated how fickle and unreliable the public mood has been, and how difficult it can be to get the nation to support a presidential proposal, especially if it represented a departure from customary patterns. In the 1990s Bill Clinton's inability to win support for comprehensive national health-care reform is as good an example as one can find in recent presidential history to illustrate the point.


The best example of presidential success in consensus building is Franklin Roosevelt’s effective direction of national affairs in the early years of World War II, from 1939 to 1941. Roosevelt believed that the United States had no choice but to help the democracies defeat Nazi Germany, fascist Italy, and militaristic Japan. The mass of Americans, however, wished to avoid involvement in the conflict. Roosevelt, understanding that the requirement of an effective policy abroad was a stable consensus for that policy at home, worked tirelessly to convince the public to shift ground. He deftly crafted programs that supported the Allied countries but did not exceed the public tolerance for involvement in the war. The lend-lease program, for example, gave American weapons to the Allies on generous financial terms. Roosevelt’s gradual expansion of American involvement combined with the intensification of the war to build national backing for participation in the war. The decision to fight, of course, was compelled by Japan's attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, in December 1941. The attack was a genuine surprise and solidified public opinion behind the commitment to fight that Roosevelt had been urging for months.

Luck


Great presidents have come to their standing not simply by vision, pragmatism, charisma, trust, and consensus building, but also by lucky circumstances that favored their goals. The conditions surrounding the administrations of the nation’s most highly regarded presidents have been uniformly favorable to getting significant things done. No one should put too much stock in circumstances, however. America’s most accomplished presidents have been their own best ally in achieving their high standing. Theodore Roosevelt and William Howard Taft, for example, both led the country during periods when there was economic stability and broad national support for social reform. Yet Theodore Roosevelt is remembered as at least a near great president, and Taft as essentially a failed chief. The contrast between Hoover’s lackluster record and Franklin Roosevelt’s spectacular success in dealing with the Great Depression underscores the point.


Even if it is true that all great American presidents have possessed these key traits—activism, vision, pragmatism, charisma, consensus building, credibility—these qualities cannot be simply wished into being. There is no substitute for presidential intuition or innate savvy as a foundation for tackling the world's most challenging job.


About the author: Professor Robert Dallek earned his bachelor of arts degree from the University of Illinois and his master of arts and doctorate in history from Columbia University in New York City. He is the author of numerous articles and books, including Flawed Giant: Lyndon Johnson and His Times (1961-73) and Hail to the Chief: The Making and Unmaking of American Presidents.