The Greatest Presidents

On this President’s Day, once back from the mall, if we're not too tired or too busy with the barbecue, we might actually think briefly about, well, presidents.  Presidents past and those we have known well enough to vote for -- or against.  We might even think about which ones in the country's history were the best, and which ones were not.
For me there have been only three truly great presidents, one in each of the centuries past: 18th, 19th and 20th.  (The 21st century is a little young yet to pick a winner -- we're still working on the bridge to it.)

What made them stand out? First, each was sorely challenged by events that put the nation in peril and each fully met his challenges. Second, each was venerated by his countrymen because he led at the crucial moments in a way that unified the nation. Third, all were beacons abroad, bearers of the light and hope radiating from our still young republic. Fourth, they left office – and this life – to the keenly felt grief and regret of all the people.

George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Franklin Roosevelt are the great ones, in that order. All others, and there were some good ones,  either failed to master as completely the events that tested them or, unfortunately for their reputations, lived in less interesting times.

We can put Lincoln ahead of Washington only by forgetting all that the First George did for us. The father of our country is still first in war and first in peace but, alas, no longer first in the hearts of his countrymen. Stiff, aloof, unsmiling, with bad teeth and a plain way of speaking, Washington has not worn as well as the simple geniality and melancholy eloquence of the story telling Rail Splitter.

But look at all that Washington did. Before there was a nation he was the paramount citizen-soldier of the colonies. He was the overwhelming choice for commanding general of the amazing victorious revolution; the universal choice to preside at the Constitutional Convention, that “Miracle in Philadelphia;” the unanimous first choice for President of the United States, an office that would have been defined less powerfully in the Constitution without the expectation that he would hold it first and establish the precedents for all who would follow.

Equally important were two things Washington did not do. He did not let his continental army officers, disgruntled over tardy pay, talk him into leading a coup. Instead he talked them out of it. And he did not stay on, as he could have, as president for life. Instead he chose to retire after two terms, setting a precedent now part of the Constitution, and in so doing orchestrated that first peaceful transfer of power, a tradition that is our glory – and the envy of nations – to this day.

Of course Washington had help – from that impressive assemblage of talent we revere as the Founding Fathers. But by words and deeds virtually all of them publicly accorded him first place in their pantheon. We can do no less.

Washington’s only signal failure of leadership came immediately after his death. His carefully drawn will, anticipating the objections of his widow and her powerful Custis clan, successfully freed all his slaves. He had hoped Virginia and the nation would follow his lead, but they did not.

That wrong was left for Honest Abe to right. His great accomplishment was of course to end slavery while preserving the union and its constitution. Historians also find much merit in his conduct of the civil war as President and Commander-In-Chief. And, like Washington, he helped create and lead a great political party.

Academics also admire the way Lincoln put profound, enduring thoughts into simple words to the service of statecraft. From the mingled blood of Gettysburg,  he distilled a "new birth of freedom" to renew and redefine the nation. Before his assassination he pledged “to bind up the nation’s wounds.” The rebels, he said, were “our countrymen” again. At his urging Grant accepted Lee’s surrender on generous terms.

Lincoln also wrote in spare legal terms the presidency’s greatest executive order, “The Emancipation Proclamation,” now set in constitutional stone as the thirteenth amendment: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude. . .”

Had he lived to turn his prescription of “malice toward none, with charity for all” into policy and practice, Lincoln could have so "[bound] up the nation wounds" as to temper and perhaps foreshorten the time of segregation and prejudice that lingers on still. With that accomplishment he would have drawn even with Washington, but it was not to be.

Franklin Roosevelt was wealthy, young, handsome, social, athletic. But heady early success was stopped by the crippling shock of polio. He reached for and took strength from his adversity in time to lead the nation – bewildered and despairing after its roller coaster ride of the Roaring Twenties and the Great Crash -- through the Depression Thirties, the New Deal, Pearl Harbor  and to the edge of victory in World War II.

At his death in 1945, after four unprecedented election victories and over 12 years in office, he was the only president youngsters (including this one) had ever known. After him the federal government was paramount in the nation and the nation predominant in the world. Sixty five plus years on these relationships endure, though long under fire, not least these very days.

One disquieting question: does greatness require victory in war? Thus far it would appear so, and today’s turbulent times augur for no exception. But the squabbles of humankind, so much on our minds, are overdue to shrink before the needs of the small blue marble to which we cling.

Perhaps on one future Presidents' Day in this century we will have followed a leader to peace and to harmony with the only planet we have, and we will use these new metrics to measure his or her greatness with that of centuries past. Now that would be great. 

Now, what'ill it be: chicken, ribs or dogs?