David M. Shribman: The time is right for questions of character

Can it be a coincidence, or merely a case of synchronicity, that in the age of Trump — a decade-long epoch that began in 2015 — several serious, high-profile books have been written about presidential character?

None of the three published in the last 15 months — an astonishing harvest of history on one subject — explicitly takes on the difficult question of evaluating the character of Donald Trump. But all three — one rooted in the life of Abraham Lincoln, another in the presidency of George H.W. Bush, the third focused more generally on modern presidents — speak of the glittering yet tarnished character of Trump's presidential predecessors.

But the implicit message, intended or not, is clear.

Previous presidents, to be sure, have had manifest and manifold character flaws: marital infidelity for Warren G. Harding, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson and Bill Clinton; financial finagling in the example of Johnson and maybe Joseph R. Biden Jr.; lies about their medical fitness for office in the case of Woodrow Wilson and Biden; general mendacity in virtually every president, including that of Jimmy Carter, a Baptist deacon who pledged he "would not tell a lie."

But amid American presidents, Trump's character stands alone, vulnerable to charges of infidelity, finagling and a quality of mendacity that is without equal. Indeed, he prompts comparison with Lincoln's description of his great rival, Sen. Stephen A. Douglas, whom he said could "tell a lie to 10,000 people one day even though he knows he may have to deny it to 5,000 the next."

But the purpose of this column is not to catalog Trump's flaws. They have been chronicled both constantly and comprehensively. They are, moreover, well-known both to the president's opponents, who have made them a preoccupation if not an obsession, and to his supporters, who have made peace with them, if not exactly excused them.

The purpose, instead, is to examine the nature of presidential character and the notion, advanced by both Franklin Roosevelt and Kennedy, that life in the White House is less likely to create character than to reveal it. And to remember the great truth in Johnson's insight that, in his words, "The presidency has made every man who occupied it, no matter how small, bigger than he was; and no matter how big, not big enough for its demands."

This is no easy exercise. And so, in Allen C. Guelzo's "Our Ancient Faith: Lincoln, Democracy, and the American Experiment," in Jean Becker's "Character Matters: And Other Life Lessons from George H.W. Bush" and in Mark K. Updegrove's "Make Your Mark: Lessons in Character From Seven Presidents," we see the complexity in this question.

President Johnson is a good example of the difficulties the character question presents. Crude in public, he spoke meanly of the "man on the streets" who only "wants a little medical care, a rug on the floor, a picture on the wall." He employed various colorful pronunciations of the N-word. He made crude remarks about women.

But he still was able to imagine a Great Society of justice and prosperity. He was able to say in his 1965 inaugural address, "For this is what America is all about. It is the uncrossed desert and the unclimbed ridge. It is the star that is not reached and the harvest sleeping in the unplowed ground." And he was able to vow, two months later in a Capitol speech campaigning for the Voting Rights Act, "I want to be the president who educated young children to the wonders of their world. I want to be the president who helped to feed the hungry and to prepare them to be taxpayers instead of tax eaters. I want to be the president who helped the poor to find their own way and who protected the right of every citizen to vote in every election."

Sometimes presidential character is found in the least pretentious presidents. Speaking of Gerald Ford, Updegrove, former director of the Lyndon Baines Johnson Library and Museum, wrote, "[T]hrough his sheer decency and instinct to do right for the sake of the country, Ford elegantly fit his moment in history." Then he added, "There are times when we don't need greatness from our presidents. There are times when goodness will do."

In her book, Becker quotes George H.W. Bush in a letter to his children when he was chair of the Republican National Committee during the Watergate years: "Civility will return to Washington eventually. The excesses condoned by the press will give way to reason and fair play. Personalities will change and our system will have proved that it works — more slowly than some would want — less efficiently than some would decree — but it works and gives us — even in adversity — great stability."

And Professor Guelzo quotes Lincoln saying, "25 years ago I was a hired laborer" and later adding, "I happen temporarily to occupy this big White House," and that he stood as a "living witness" to how he hoped Americans would have "an open field and a fair chance for your industry, enterprise and intelligence; that you may have equal privileges in the race of life, with all its desirable human aspirations."

Guelzo notes that at his inauguration, the 16th president wore a floppy Kossuth hat, popularized by democratic revolutionary Lajos Kossuth, who led Hungary during the revolutionary years of 1848 and 1849. It's unknown whether that aside was meant to contrast Lincoln with Trump's admiration for the Hungarian strongman Viktor Orban, whom he calls "a great man, a great leader in Europe."

During his time at the LBJ Library, Updegrove heard Barack Obama speak of how "humbling" was the presidency. "You're reminded in this great democracy you are but a relay swimmer in the currents of history, bound by decisions made by those who came before, relying on the efforts of those who follow to fully vindicate your vision," he said. "But the presidency also affords a unique opportunity to bend those currents."

Today, those currents are being bent, and the current president is refusing to be a relay swimmer, instead preferring to create his own currents of history. The question Trump, who is not a reflective man, must confront is whether the presidents who follow will vindicate his vision. Addressing that is an essential element of presidential character.

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David M. Shribman is the former executive editor of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.