Newspaper and Journal Articles-Quoted

Main

Mr. and Mrs.President

See How They Ran

Yet, even if Gore wins on Nov. 7, he will have to confess that it has been one tough campaign. Gore and the Democrats may dismiss George W. Bush as inexperienced, but this alleged lightweight has given the Washington big foot a run for his money. An election has not seemed so close since 1960, when another supposedly inexperienced lightweight, John F. Kennedy, ran against Richard Nixon, an incumbent vice president in a popular administration enjoying an unprecedented economic boom.

Nixon, the favorite, lost in 1960 largely because many people simply did not like "Tricky Dick." With few issues polarizing the public and both candidates playing to the center, the campaign became a referendum on the men themselves. The same thing may be happening this year. Al Gore has made this a tight contest with George W. Bush for a simple reason-it's his personality, stupid.

Yes, in 1992, using the opposing mantra, "It's the economy stupid," Bill Clinton and Al Gore unseated George Bush senior. And, yes, millions of voters are motivated by partisan loyalty and the candidates' issue stands. But the remaining voters-those who haven't made up their minds by Labor Day-are motivated by personality. Straddling the great American middle, they force the candidates to muddle the message, to preach compassion and conservatism, fiscal discipline and liberalism. In this election, more than most, they hold the balance of power. These are the ones responding like quicksilver to every Bush bumble, to every Gore fib.

An election decided by the right smooch, a misplaced sigh, the wrong word, a too-tall-tale might seem especially trivialized. But in focusing on personalities, modern voters are keeping up a great American tradition. We want our president to be king and prime minister, both a political and cultural icon. To fill George Washington's mythic shoes, to be effective, to mobilize millions in a diverse democracy, presidents need charisma, leadership skills,the right stuff.

The Federalist Papers themselves said that presidents should be characters "preeminent for ability and virtue." In the 19th Century, when partisanship was more intense and Congress much more central to the political system, a passive president was considered ideal. The best president was statesmanlike, virtuous, pliant, deferential to party demands and congressional power. Even then, campaigns degenerated into what Americans called "personalities"-vicious attacks against candidates' perceived flaws: John Adams' pomposity; Andrew Jackson's volatility; Henry Clay's vanity. After losing the 1872 election, Horace Greeley moaned that he had been "so bitterly assailed that I hardly know whether I was running for president or the penitentiary." As Andrew Jackson, Abraham Lincoln and Theodore Roosevelt made the presidency more potent, aggressive personality traits became more significant.

Nominees became more active, stumping throughout the country, often from the rear-platform of a railroad train. "Character" came to be seen as someone's internal strengths; "personality" as his popular appeal. In 1904, Republicans praised Roosevelt with their traditional litany of superlatives testifying to his character-honest, just, moral, patriotic. But they also praised his bombastic personality, his "vitality," "strength" and "energy." In the last half century, presidential personality has become even more important. Franklin D. Roosevelt placed the chief executive at the center of the American political universe. John F. Kennedy illustrated just how politically potent personality magic and sex appeal could be, especially in the television age. When Lyndon Johnson ran for president in 1964, he compensated for his less appealing personality by emphasizing the issues and demonizing his opponent. Richard Nixon in 1968 understood that in order to win he had to convince Americans there was a "New Nixon" in town-a kinder, gentler version of the scrappy 1950s hatchet man.

The blurring of the line between information and entertainment on television made both Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton function as celebrity in chief. When Reagan sat with Barbara Walters for an interview on the eve of the Academy Awards, when Bill Clinton shared his lingerie secrets with MTV, the president bonded with the public, just as any other performer does.

Of course, it is an equally long-standing American tradition to bellyache about this focus on personalities, to lament the degeneration of the democracy.

Americans are ambivalent, eager for a slugfest and a seminar, for candidates both aggressive and honorable. Nominees give the people what they want by acting like fighting schoolboys and like Olympian statesmen, just as publishers run editorials bemoaning the focus on personalities expressed in their very own front pages.

In this campaign, both candidates have been marketing personality from the start. Having undergone apparent smile therapy to stop smirking, George W. Bush now is trying to position himself as the healer-one who will use his genial personality to dilute partisan rancor in Washington. During the Democratic convention, Al Gore pulled off a political jujitsu. First, in giving his wife a big, long smooch, he tried to demonstrate his pleasing personality. By focusing on the issues in his acceptance speech, he tried to come across as a man of substance-itself a personality trait.

Still, Gore's stiffness, his missing likability gene, is a great issue.

Americans showed during the Clinton sex scandal that they no longer have to venerate a president, but they still want to like him. The president needs to woo the public, to move the masses. In this regard, public personality is essential.

At the same time, the private personality is also critical. The political scientist Richard Neustadt taught that the "power of the president is the power to persuade." The fact that many colleagues disliked Gore privately when he served in the House and Senate is relevant.

Presidential campaigns do often reduce complex personalities to one-dimensional trivialities. But both Reagan and Clinton taught us that presidential personality is a many-splendored thing. Reagan showed-George W.

Bush take note-that being a nice guy can go a long way in overcoming Americans' discomfort with your issue positions. Clinton has shown-Al Gore take note-that even ruthlessness and dishonesty can be excused if tempered by charm that seems to be rooted in substance and by effective performance in office.

With so much hope and ideology and power invested in one individual, the presidential contest cannot just be about competing ideas, especially at a time with little political polarization. So it is the personality, stupid. And that isn't necessarily so bad.