By Kevin D. Williamson
Sunday, July 04, 2021
The American presidency is a
deeply weird job: The president’s legitimate constitutional powers and his
fundamental responsibilities have overwhelmingly to do with foreign affairs and
national security, but almost all the political juice is in domestic events
shaped mainly by Congress and other forces beyond his control, such as economic
cycles. Presidential politics are governed by a perverse Pareto Principle: 80
percent of a president’s career depends on concerns that should take up, at
most, about 20 percent of his resources, including his mental resources and his
time.
As Daniel L. Byman and Jeremy Shapiro put it
in Foreign Policy, “Promoting economic growth has been the top
priority of every White House since the invention of macroeconomic statistics.”
But contra the confidence of presidential advisers such as my friend Larry
Kudlow, there is relatively little presidents can do that directly affects
economic growth, employment, wages, and such in the near term. The economy
certainly responds to changes in both taxing and spending, but the president
himself cannot effect such changes: He can only advocate them and hope Congress
will act.
Congress, thankfully, often declines to do so.
Yet we still talk about the “Reagan deficits” and the
“Clinton surplus” instead of the Tip O’Neill deficits and the Newt Gingrich
surplus, which would be more accurate. Some sober-minded Chamber of Commerce–type
conservatives privately confess that their preferred configuration of power in
Washington is one that pits a weak Democratic president against a Republican
Congress that hates him. In the other four major configurations — Democratic
president and Democratic Congress, Republican president and Republican
Congress, Republican president and Democratic Congress, divided Congress — the
political energies supporting government expansion overpower the modest forces
of restraint, which are weak in the best of times. Americans say they dread
gridlock, but they vote for it.
Even the economic levers that are within the president’s
reach typically produce results that are unintended, unpredictable, and
comprehensible only in retrospect. When the Reagan administration oversaw
reforms to FCC regulations touching low-power radio transmitters, no one
foresaw how central Wi-fi and Wi-fi-enabled devices would come to be 20 years
down the road. The federal initiatives that contributed to the millennial
housing bubble and the subsequent financial crisis had their roots in the 1930s.
All those $10,000 toilet seats you hear about the Pentagon’s
buying are the unintended result of federal procurement procedures, many of
them intended to prevent waste and inefficiency.
Unintended results rule the day economically. If there
were some policy formula by which we could achieve strong, predictable growth
with rising wages and stable prices, then you can be sure that implementing
such a formula would be at the top of every president’s agenda: No president
would choose a recession, a financial crisis, or a
stock-market crash. But a thriving economy isn’t something you can put together
like a jigsaw puzzle. It is more like a delicate flower you try to cultivate.
By way of contrast, the president has a great deal of
real, direct constitutional power when it comes to foreign policy. His power is
not fully plenipotentiary — treaties have to be ratified, trade accords require
legislation to implement them, Congress may authorize or decline to authorize
military force or entangle him in purse-strings, etc. — but it is both
expansive and invested in him personally. And though this is not always
obvious, it has applications other than war-making. You would think that would
be attractive. But the realities of democratic politics draw the president’s
attention in other directions.
Might the presidency be drawn back? It would be
difficult, but the payoff would be great. Rather than the national-chieftain
model of the presidency we have today, we could have one that is focused on
administrative competence and faithful execution of the law at home and
securing U.S. interests abroad, which would be a great improvement — sparing us
a god-emperor and, with any luck, giving us a better-functioning
administration.
Unhappily, there remains that mismatch between the
politics of the job and the duties of the job. During my lifetime, the only two
presidents to have come into office with considerable appetite and vision for
foreign affairs were the Californians — Richard Nixon, who sought a rebalancing
of power in the Cold War, and Ronald Reagan, who was determined to win it. (And
did, which ought to matter more than it seems to.) George H. W. Bush hoped to
quietly enjoy a peace dividend and cultivate his “thousand points of light,”
but Saddam Hussein had other plans; the second President Bush wanted to be an
education reformer but found himself instead at war with al-Qaeda and the
Taliban, and then with Saddam Hussein again. Bill Clinton and Barack Obama both
sniffed at Republican military adventures abroad and insisted on
“nation-building at home,” and both would have preferred to have presidencies
occupied by repairing potholes in Poughkeepsie and handing out free false
teeth. Donald Trump had a vague conviction that the United States was being
drained to no purpose by its overseas commitments and ran to the pacifist side
of that infamous warmonger Hillary Rodham Clinton but lacked any real positive
program. Joe Biden’s agenda, so far, is pretending to undo what Trump did, and
so he broadcasts conventional diplomatic noises across the Atlantic while maintaining
Trump’s trade protectionism and executing Trump’s military retreat.
One of the things that will make it difficult to reorient
the presidency toward foreign affairs is that our presidential politics
naturally selects figures with primarily domestic portfolios: senators,
governors, the occasional big-city mayor. The Republican foreign-policy bench
has been pretty deep at times, but its leading figures either were uninterested
in pursuing the presidency or politically unable to do so. We would have been better
off with a President Condoleezza Rice or a President Colin Powell than we were
with President Donald Trump. James Baker might have made a good president if
circumstances had permitted it. On the Democratic side, Madeleine Albright, who
actually did the job of secretary of state, probably would have been a better
president than would have Hillary Rodham Clinton, who pretended to do that job.
(The great tragedy of the 2016 contest between Mrs. Clinton and Donald Trump
was that it was an election for president rather than an election for mayor of
New York City, a job that either of them probably would have performed ably.)
The Democrats made two failed presidential contenders secretary of state
back-to-back: Hillary Rodham Clinton after her failure in the 2008 primary, and
then John Kerry a decade after his failure in the 2004 general. That was a good
political calculation in the case of Mrs. Clinton, who was certain to run
again. But, in general, it would be better to serve as secretary of state or
defense, or in a similar role, before running for president,
rather than assuming the role as a consolation prize after crashing and
burning.
But it is unlikely that the Republicans with an eye on
the White House will turn to someone with a real foreign-policy résumé in the
near future. (It is difficult to imagine President Mike Pompeo, though stranger
things have happened.) The prominent or up-and-coming national figures in the
Republican Party are a handful of governors and former governors (Ron DeSantis,
Nikki Haley, Kristi Noem), a few senators (Marco Rubio, Ted Cruz), and a
considerable gaggle of disreputable Trump vestiges, Mike Pence prominent among
them. Of all of them, Haley, who served as ambassador to the United Nations,
has the most plausible claim to meaningful foreign-policy experience. Democrats
are in about the same condition, and if President Biden is succeeded by a
Democrat, it is likely to be one grimy patronage-politics lawyer or another:
Kamala Harris, Elizabeth Warren, etc.
If you want a president mainly focused on day-to-day
domestic affairs, one who keeps himself busy visiting the hurricane-stricken
and cutting ribbons and praying for a stock-market boom, one who thinks he
“runs the country” — president-as-mayor, as Jay Nordlinger puts it — then a
governor is what you’re after, or, maybe, on the Democratic side, a big-city
mayor. (The ruthless Machiavellian Michael Bloomberg, not the feckless and
witless Bill de Blasio.) But if you want a president who functions properly according
to our actual constitutional architecture, then you don’t want a hand-holder, a
lip-biter, or a your-pain-feeler. You want a diplomat and a statesman, someone
who might be able to locate on a desktop globe some of those 150-odd foreign
countries where U.S. troops are based, someone who has some inkling of the
complex global linkages of the U.S. economy, and who sees in China something
other than a ruthless competitor in the manufacture of cheap flip-flops.
It would take a very large spoonful of sugar to make that
medicine go down the democratic gullet. But it would do the body politic a lot
of good.
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