In The Shadow of Bush

We are all stars in the movies that play in our minds: not true-life stories, exactly, but life as we imagine it could or should be. Little imperfections are conveniently forgotten or smoothed over, messy relationships downplayed or deep-sixed. The future beckons brightly, even if the past was dark or dreary. This need to believe in an idealized self is especially strong in politicians. They must get up every day and sell a vision—fanciful, perhaps, but inspiring: Morning in America, or a Bridge to the 21st Century, a New Frontier or a New Deal. To fulfill these myths, our leaders must be Born in a Log Cabin, or be the Man From Hope, or Speak Softly But Carry a Big Stick. A certain amount of hooey is tolerated, even required. In real life, Teddy Roosevelt didn't speak softly at all. He more often brayed like a donkey. But he could make people listen out of fear and respect.

The modern Republican Party has indulged in more than a little mythmaking during the past 30 or 40 years. Its greatest hero was a Hollywood actor, Ronald Reagan. Morning in America was a brilliant bit of feel-good theatricality. Still, the GOP's core ideology—lower taxes, stronger defense, conservative social values—was a story that voters could follow. The GOP's long ascendancy in American politics was based on performance, not just showmanship.

President George W. Bush has squandered that trust. His presidency has been, in essence, faith-based—not just faith in God, but faith in Bush. After 9/11, he asked the nation to invest in his narrative of good versus evil. He seemed to be saying, "I'm taking care of this, you have to trust me." Critics and naysayers were scorned as ditherers or cowards. Bush wanted to appear resolute, but at times he just seemed bullheaded and oblivious. As Jacob Weisberg shows in the following excerpts from his new book, "The Bush Tragedy," the president constantly changed his rationale for invading Iraq—indeed his entire foreign policy—as inconvenient facts popped up or the mood moved him. Other crises, like Hurricane Katrina and more recently the sinking economy, seemed to catch him by surprise.

The Democrats have a fundamental advantage in 2008: none of them is George W. Bush. Whether promoting experience or change or populism, none of the Democrats can ever be the heir to the current president's legacy. For the Republicans, the matter is more complicated. The candidates are generally careful not to publicly disavow the president while scuttling away from his record. Mitt Romney is a case in point. Last Tuesday night, after he won the Michigan primary, Romney fulsomely praised Reagan and George H.W. Bush—but never mentioned the current president. Romney does somewhat limply praise the commander in chief for "keeping us safe for the last six years," but by making a hero out of Bush's father, Romney seems to be signaling that the elder Bush was the smart one when he decided not to march on to Baghdad in 1991. Romney does need the Bush family; he depends on former governor Jeb Bush's political network in Florida, though a Romney spokesman says Jeb himself "doesn't strategize with us." Rudy Giuliani's campaign manager, Michael DuHaime, insists to NEWSWEEK that his boss "refuses to pile on" the president. But one story you don't hear Giuliani repeat now is how, on 9/11, he grabbed the arm of his then New York City police commissioner, Bernie Kerik, and said, "Thank God George Bush is our president." As the choice of many evangelical voters, Mike Huckabee has no need to woo Bush's base, and he goes farthest in dissing the president. In an article in Foreign Affairs magazine, he accused Bush of having an "arrogant bunker mentality" on foreign policy, and has said, "I'm not trying to run for a third Bush term." Though John McCain harshly criticized Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld's Iraq strategy, he has supported the Bush surge in Iraq. Still, he has never been fond of the president since getting slimed by GOP operatives allegedly linked to the Bush camp in the 2000 South Carolina primary. On the campaign trail last spring, McCain was asked: "Senator, you were defeated by Bush in 2000. With your stance on the surge in Iraq, is it possible that you will be defeated by George Bush again in 2008?" McCain stood silently for a few seconds, almost as if he were trying to keep himself from saying the wrong thing. He looked mad. Finally, he spoke. "I do not allow my views and my concerns about the future of the United States of America to be affected in any way by my personal ambitions," he said coldly and carefully. (Mark McKinnon, Bush's media strategist in 2000 and 2004, notes that Bush still has a 70 percent approval rating with Republicans, and argues that Giuliani and McCain have actually benefited by supporting Bush's immigration and Iraq policies.)

Political eras, in modern times, have not been wiped away in landslides. In 2000, ending eight years of Democratic rule, Bush did not even win the popular vote against Al Gore. In 1960, after eight years of Republican rule, John F. Kennedy eked out a narrow win against Richard M. Nixon, and some historians still suspect the Democrats had to steal votes to do it. This time around, however, the Republicans appear poised on a precipice. Their candidates have raised only about two thirds as much money as the Democrats (about $168 million to about $245 million), and GOP turnout badly lagged the Democrats' in both Iowa and New Hampshire. There's no clear front runner: McCain's victory in South Carolina last Saturday gave him two wins in early nominating contests; Romney's win on the same day in Nevada gave him three; Huckabee has one. It is possible that one of the GOP candidates will patch together the old coalition and at least make it close in November, and it's true that the Democrats have shown a knack for snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. But it is just as likely that the long run of Republican dominance in national politics is coming to an abrupt end.

What can the Republicans do to salvage their party fortunes and show they have learned from Bush's experience? It is too late to reinvent the party's core beliefs. But the GOP candidates can embark on a more humble mission: to show, in effect, some humility. By examining Bush's hubris, his almost willful disregard for annoying counterarguments, the Republican candidates can demonstrate a greater level of critical open-mindedness and self-awareness—they can show that they are not deluded by wishful thinking and Manichaean narratives. Come to think of it, that's not a bad standard for the candidates of either party. The test of a successful presidency, history shows, is the ability to project visionary self-confidence without, at the same time, brushing aside stubborn truths.