It has not been a great few weeks for former populist leaders on either side of the Atlantic. The former president of the United States, Donald Trump, has been indicted, again; the former prime minister of Great Britain, Boris Johnson, jumped from the Commons before he was pushed for misleading parliament over Partygate, not without soiling the Honours System before flouncing off. Surely, the fact that Johnson gave his hairdresser an honour is not a surprise to anyone. The fact that he has a hairdresser is the surprise here. But I digress.
The roll call of disgraceful leaders continues. Our former prime minister Joseph Muscat’s petulant request for the recusal of the inquiring magistrate investigating the hospitals’ concessions scandal hit a wall and he was made to sit in a tiny courtroom with common mortals like me for hours on end.
There is a fascinating synergy between the behaviours of Trump, Johnson and Muscat in their spluttering response to accusations of indecorous behaviour in office. First, they all vociferously deny what clearly happened. They are all strangers to the concept of truth. Then they claim their accusers are organising a witch-hunt. Then they protest that the judiciary is prejudiced against them. This ignominious behaviour, the staple of schoolrooms the world over (“it wasn’t me”), demonstrates clearly the complete absence of insight into their own behaviour.
Each one is indifferent to the welfare of anyone save himself, let alone the country they had pledged to serve. They demand loyalty but are incapable of giving it to others, let alone the country. They have neither principles nor personal convictions, save about their own ambitions. Above all, they all suffer from deranged narcissism and are cultish adherents of their own imagined victimhood.
This gruesome threesome has reminded me of a book by one of my favourite presidential historians, Doris Kearns Goodwin’s Leadership: In Turbulent Times, the title echoing the truth of the maxim attributed to the Latin writer Publilius Syrus,“anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm”. In this book, Goodwin draws upon the four presidents she calls “My guys” (because she wrote extensive biographies of each before writing this book) – Abraham Lincoln, Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Lyndon B. Johnson – and tried to extract the basic lessons that enabled each to deal with major crises in their personal lives and in the life of their country.
Each assumed office in turbulent times – LBJ and Teddy upon the assassination of a president, Lincoln at the collapse of the Union, FDR at the collapse of the economy. None had a honeymoon period before assuming the massive demands of office.
Leadership is not the chance of getting the opportunity to lead but to have the capacity to be ready for that opportunity- Alessandra Dee Crespo
No single path carried them to the summit of political leadership. They differed wildly on temperament, appearance and physical ability. They were united, however, by a fierce ambition, an inordinate will to succeed. All, except for Lincoln, because he was otherworldly even at 23, went into politics for themselves. “Every man has his own peculiar ambition,” wrote the young Lincoln on being asked to write why he wanted to run for office. “Mine is to be esteemed by my fellow man.”
This esteem was also won by what later Teddy called “fellow feeling”, by which he meant caring for the people’s welfare, which was also emulated by his cousin FDR and by LBJ. Only then was their burning ambition for self transformed into worthy ambition for the greater good. Johnson was devastated that his stellar domestic record was rightly cut in half by the Vietnam war.
What do we do in an era when leadership does not appear to be part of the moral calculus that has lifted nations to higher ground in spite of their leaders’ failings? All these four men were not born leaders but became ones through adversity, tragedy and great personal and political losses. They grew in office.
More importantly, they had the humility to know that they needed to mature in office. All four had the confidence to surround themselves with people, a team of rivals, so to speak, who could question their authority, their assumptions and help them to acknowledge their errors and control their tempers. Above all, they all understood that leadership is not the chance of getting the opportunity to lead but to have the capacity to be ready for that opportunity and to possess a moral compass of where you want to take the country. All four worked for what they believed in rather than for what kept them in power.
These leaders were not perhaps great generals like Napoleon or great statesmen like Frederick the Great but their greatness consisted of their integrity of character and that, in the end, is how we should judge our leaders.
But we should ask ourselves one question: what makes a citizen in turbulent times? To what extent are our national problems a reflection of who we are as a country or is it a distortion of it? The quality of our leaders is a collective mirror on ourselves, that these are the leaders that we have chosen.
The people living under the turbulent times of each president did not know that things were going to end the right way. In each circumstance, the people had leaders with a mission, who inspired them with a sense of common purpose to overcome together.
This is our time as citizens. If we refuse to do our duty, we would be no less disgraced than the leaders who have failed us.
Finally, exceptional leaders were flawed mortals who, in times of national emergency, achieved great things. The same can be said of the people.
Alessandra Dee Crespo is vice-president of Repubblika.