Introductory note: Every so often, I print op-eds from subscription publications that many of you may not read but that I think are so worthwhile that I want to share it with you. Today’s post is such an example.
In the context of today’s Washington, D.C. and especially in light of the crash and burn mean-spirited MAGA Republican Party, its sycophants and moral cowards, I was moved by Matt Bai’s piece extolling the virtues of what once characterized DC politics between both Republicans and Democrats. Do read what follows. Perhaps, once this sorry history of Trumpism vanishes from the political scene and common decency is restored (I am a positive thinker, after all), we’ll see relationships like those that once marked Washington, D.C. discourse again. Joe Biden is a remnant of that era, and his example ought to be the rule, just as the late President Gerald Ford was once emblematic of what political leaders were. Enjoy.
By Matt Bai – Contributing columnist – Washington Post – August 7, 2023
“Here’s a story that might blow your mind.
In 1973, as the investigations into Watergate were still unfolding, and as the corrupt Spiro Agnew was forced to resign the vice presidency, a group of Democrats in Congress hatched a takeover plan. If they delayed confirming Agnew’s chosen replacement, House Minority Leader Gerald Ford, and then forced Richard M. Nixon from office, the presidency would pass by constitutional order to the Democratic speaker, Carl Albert.
It was a clever plan, and it might have worked — except that Albert himself recoiled. To the diminutive Oklahoman, a coup was a coup, constitutional or not. So he refused to seize by parliamentary maneuver what his party had failed to win the previous year. Albert saw to it that Ford was quickly confirmed and that he himself would not inherit the presidency.
This and other stories from what seem like another political planet can be found in “An Ordinary Man,” the recently published Ford biography by Richard Norton Smith, a presidential historian who worked for Ford and later ran his presidential library. If you thought the world didn’t need an 800-page Ford biography, you might have been right — the biographical and legislative detail can be exhausting, and the central premise (“The Surprising Life and Historic Presidency of Gerald R. Ford”) feels like a stretch.
But the story is deftly told and flush with humanity — so much so, in fact, that revisiting Ford’s moment left me feeling even more profoundly disturbed by our own, with its daily headlines about the new indictment of former president Donald Trump and the prison sentences slapped on hundreds of his loyalists, all in connection with an attempt to unlawfully seize the presidency.
There are, after all, notable parallels between Ford and President Biden. Both were considered unlikely presidents who assumed office in unconventional ways and in moments of upheaval: Ford by the resignation of his predecessor, Biden by way of the first virtual, quarantine-era campaign. Both were longtime and well-liked creatures of Congress whose only brush with executive power came in the vacuum of the vice presidency.
Fairly or not, both men were considered error-prone and lacking in glamour, and both faced pressure to step aside rather than run for another term.
The political worlds in which each man governed, however, are so different as to be jarring. Where Biden’s eventual biographies will portray a time of unwavering partisanship, contempt for the institutions of government and cold disregard for truth, the pages of Smith’s book are rife with routine moments of principle, compassion and patriotism.
Imagine, for instance, any vice presidential nominee, chosen by a scandalized president, receiving strong support from leaders in the other party, simply because they admired his character. “Decent men, placed in positions of trust, will serve decently” is how Andrew Young (D-Ga.), the civil rights leader turned congressman, explained his vote to confirm Ford. “I believe that Mr. Ford is a decent man.” (Only 35 members of the Democrat-dominated House voted no.)
Or consider that, on the eve of Nixon’s resignation, Ford and his wife, Betty, could be found at a dinner party at the home of a society reporter for the Washington Star. That’s how much trust and common purpose existed in Washington at the time. The man who knew he was about to assume the presidency was more comfortable dining with journalists than with canceling at the last minute.
Or get your head around this: After Ford’s death in 2006, en route to his funeral, 82-year-old Jimmy Carter, the man who had defeated him 30 years earlier, paced the family plane with Ford’s baby granddaughter bouncing in his arms. Once bitter political adversaries, the two men ended up the closest of friends.
Imagine, too, an act of selfless political courage that somehow seemed like business as usual in Ford’s moment, but that today would be viewed as a kind of psychotic break — especially, but not exclusively, for a Republican. I’m talking about Ford loudly standing up for Vietnamese immigrants when leaders in both parties resorted to nativism.
“These refugees chose freedom,” he said. “They do not ask that we be their keepers, but only, for a time, that we be their helpers.”
Imagine a president who would go before the Veterans of Foreign Wars, as Ford did, to make the case that draft-dodgers should be given conditional clemency. (His plea was not well received, nor did he expect it would be.) Try to conjure a Republican leader who would announce his support for the Equal Rights Amendment, just because he believed in it, or who would shrug when his wife declared herself pro-choice.
It can sound naive to extol the virtues of politicians past, when so much has changed. The postwar period was mostly a time of liberal consensus, its political parties made up of regional coalitions. The transition from Ford to Ronald Reagan and his harder-edged conservatives would begin the gradual process of empowering extremists in the Republican Party, and to a lesser extent among Democrats, as well.
Even so, I took away two crucial insights about the present from reading Smith’s timely book.
First, our leaders really are worse, and there really was a time when Washington was better and more ennobling. It’s fashionable now for partisans on either side to say that political nostalgia is bogus, that those of us who idealize the age of civility and moderation are simply wistful for the days of Great Society leftism, or for the age when old White men got to rule everything and mushy centrism prevailed.
But immerse yourself for a bit in Ford’s America, and you will find that welfare programs and mushy centrists are not the only things we’ve left behind. It’s actually true that leaders cared about one another and the country, that many of them had genuine convictions, and that often they were willing to lose an election rather than lose their own integrity.
Ford kept a list of litmus tests for anyone thinking about a life in public service, which he said you shouldn’t pursue if you “expect to make a great deal of money, do not like people and working on their problems, are thinned skinned and can’t take public criticism, if you are only interested in the glamour ofthe title or the responsibility.”
I think we know what Ford would have thought of Trump. I think we can guess at how aghast Republicans of Ford’s era would be at the shocking cravenness of today’s Republican presidential candidates and their bobblehead brethren in Congress, who can barely find it in themselves to utter a half-critical word about an indicted demagogue.
Second, I think Ford and Biden are similar in another respect: It seems to me that Ford, if not the shrewdest or most memorable of our presidents, might well have been the nicest person to ever hold the office, or at least in the 20th century. If Smith’s persuasive portrait is to believed, Ford was unfailingly gracious, self-aware and humane — even more so when no one was watching. One scene involves a tailor, a Holocaust survivor, who came to the White House to measure the president for a suit; Ford told the naturalized citizen that he was “one of the best Americans,” and the tailor leaped up to embrace him.
If there’s one thing we’ve learned about the presidency these last several years, it’s that niceness matters more than we thought.”


