Ronald Reagan and John F. Kennedy actually never met each other, although Reagan campaigned strongly on behalf of Richard Nixon in 1960. In 1967, however, then-Governor Reagan debated the Vietnam War with Senator Robert F. Kennedy on television and beat him so badly that, as soon as the debate ended, RFK turned to an aide and said, “Who the fuck got me into that?” There’s a short clip of the debate here and a transcript here.
Carter and Ford were unlikely friends, but none of Carter’s successors got along with him. A lot of them thought that he was out of line and freelancing in international matters as an ex-President. Carter reportedly isn’t the easiest guy to get along with, either. Clinton had problems with Carter dating to Clinton’s time as Governor of Arkansas. Reagan and Carter slugged it out pretty viciously during the 1980 campaign and Reagan didn’t think much of Carter. Bush 41 was very bothered by Carter saying that Bush 43 was the worst President of his lifetime. Bush 41 believed that former Presidents shouldn’t criticize incumbents, and he really took that personally, as did Bush 43.
Reagan also wasn’t close with very many of his fellow Presidents, but Reagan wasn’t close to anybody but his wife. He even had distant relationships with his children, and had almost no real friends. He was friendly and people liked him personally, but he never, ever let anybody get close to him (except Nancy). Plus, once Reagan left office, he began to decline pretty quickly as his Alzheimer’s disease progressed, so his public life ended when he announced his illness and nobody really saw him, even privately, besides his family during the final ten years of his life.
No, I wouldn’t say that “embarrassed” would the correct word. I have plenty of bad books or uninteresting books — and it’s even possible to have good books that are not interesting or bad books that are interesting, so I have many of those, as well. But I wouldn’t say that I’m embarrassed about any of my books. I’ve read a lot of books that I flat-out disagreed with — even some that I was actually bothered by — but I’m still glad I read them. I think it’s important to read as much about everything as I can.
Plus, I know how difficult it is to write a book and sell it, so I try to maintain a level of respect for those who do, even if I disagree with them or their work. I wouldn’t feel right giving a quick answer to a question where I just straight up said that a book — let’s randomly use John Yoo’s Crisis and Command: A History of Executive Power From George Washington to George W. Bush (BOOK | KINDLE) for totally…ummm…”random” reasons — was so ridiculously one-sided that it almost came across as a plea not to be charged with war crimes for giving the President of the United States legal advice that clearly overstepped Constitutional boundaries, international law, and nearly all regard for basic human rights while serving as a counsel in that particular Administration.
Doing something like saying certain books such as — oh, as an example, let’s just say John Yoo’s Crisis and Command: A History of Executive Power From George Washington to George W. Bush (BOOK | KINDLE) — might as well have had a cover featuring the author kissing President Bush’s pale white ass while Bush plants an American flag limply hanging from a flag pole shaped like a Tomahawk missile on to the word “PEACE” formed from a mosaic of images of children crying and mushroom clouds with smoke wafting from the impact point in the form of dollar signs would be patently unfair if it was done out of context.
So, that would really need some sort of context. Also, it is desperately asking to be created by one of my more artistically-inclined readers.
George W. Bush can be — and should be — criticized for a great number of things, but I’ve never heard anything that would indicate that he was racially intolerant.
With PEPFAR, Bush 43 did more to help combat AIDS in Africa than any other President in American history. Throughout both of his terms, one of the most influential and prominent members of his Administration was a black female — first as National Security Advisor and then as Secretary of State. Think about this: George W. Bush served eight years as President and he didn’t have a white Secretary of State — the nation’s top diplomatic post and most visible representative of our country other than the President — serve even one minute of those eight years. In his first term, the Secretary of State was Colin Powell; in the second term, it was Condoleezza Rice.
And here’s the impressive part: Bush — a Republican from Texas — never used the diversity of his Cabinet as a political selling point as many other recent Presidents have done. With the exception of Hillary Clinton in his first term, President Obama has appointed white men to run the State Department, Treasury Department, and the Department of Defense, just as every single one of his predecessor’s has done, with the exception of Bush 43 and Bill Clinton (who appointed Madeline Albright as his second term Secretary of State).
Today, we remember.
We remember where we were when we heard about the first plane hitting the tower. We remember what we thought as the news just began to trickle in. We remember our horror as we watched the second plane hit the other tower. We remember the evacuations — people running out of our monuments, our centers of government and finance, and spilling out on to the streets of our nation’s capital. We remember the dust and debris chasing thousands of New Yorkers through the streets of our most iconic city. We remember the smoke rising from the Pentagon. We remember that impact site in Pennsylvania. We remember watching the towers fall.
We remember the fear, the chaos, the sadness, and the feeling of not knowing what was happening or when it would end. We remember a feeling that Americans were not used to experiencing up to September 11, 2001: helplessness — the feeling of being attacked. We remember that the weather was perfect throughout almost the entire country that morning. We remember that we don’t remember what it felt like on September 10th.
Do you remember pointing fingers? Do you remember placing blame? Do you remember partisanship? I remember patriotism. I remember flags and candles and donating water and giving blood and having a new appreciation for police officers and firefighters. I remember that I wasn’t a Democrat or a Republican. I remember that I was an American. I remember that we were all Americans. I remember that we cared a little bit more about each other for at least a couple of weeks.
When Democrat Lyndon Johnson was the Senate Majority Leader and Republican Dwight Eisenhower was President of the United States, LBJ — one of the most intense, passionate political animals in our history — never attacked President Eisenhower. It wasn’t because LBJ agreed with Eisenhower’s policies. It wasn’t because LBJ was scared. It was because, as LBJ explained in 1953 in a comment that has an unfortunately haunting connection to 9/11, “If you’re in an airplane, and you’re flying somewhere, you don’t run up to the cockpit and attack the pilot. Mr. Eisenhower is the only President we’ve got.”
The only President we’ve got.
We all want to head in the same direction. We all want to move forward. We all want to progress and be happy and healthy and taken care of. Why does partisan politics trump nationalism? As World War I and World War II approached and the world realized that we are clearly connected on a global level, the people who seemed the most out-of-touch — the people who were wrong — were the isolationists. In both of those great wars, the isolationists were proven wrong. Yet, in the span of our grandparents’ lives, we have regressed to the point where most Americans have become individual isolationists — not isolationism on a national level, but on a personal level. We’ve tried to disconnect from the people in our own country. Don’t you remember how powerful it felt after 9/11 to be united? Don’t you remember how we helped each other in so many different ways?
I guess I could try to be cynical. It’s my natural state anyway. I guess I could remember the look on President George W. Bush’s face when his Chief of Staff, Andrew Card, whispered news of the attacks in the President’s ear as he sat in a Florida classroom. I guess I could remember My Pet Goat, and the fact that Bush didn’t get up, sprint from the room, and change out of his Clark Kent clothes into the Superman suit. I guess I could remember Air Force One zig-zagging across the country, the only flight in the air besides military escorts and combat air patrols over our major cities. I guess I could remember the surveillance videos of the well-dressed hijackers walking through the airport terminals that morning before they turned our planes into weapons. I guess I could remember that the passengers of Flight 93 didn’t actually get through the cockpit door and force the plane to crash into Pennsylvania. I guess I could remember our government’s alphabet agencies — the FBI, CIA, NSA, and everyone else listening in on our world — being unable to work together and stop this attack from happening in the first place. I guess I could choose to remember those things, but that doesn’t make me feel better. It doesn’t make 9/11 anything but a success to those who tried to frighten and frustrate and intimidate us through terrorism.
This is what I choose to remember:
I remember that the passengers of Flight 93 tried. I remember that their plane didn’t make it to Washington, and even if they didn’t get into the cockpit and crash the plane into that meadow in Pennsylvania themselves, they certainly fought back and forced the hijackers to abort the mission that they had planned. That plane didn’t crash into the White House or the Capitol, and that’s not because the hijackers got lost.
I remember driving to the wedding rehearsal for two of my best friends on the Friday after the attacks, feeling bad that they were getting married in the shadow of 9/11. I remember being amazed at thousands of people in the streets of Sacramento — thousands of miles away from any of the attack sites — holding a candlelight vigil. I remember that I drove through the silence of these peaceful vigils, with flags and flames and tears all around me, and I thought, “We’re going to be okay.”
I remember George W. Bush — a President I never voted for. I remember his unsteady first comments to the press after the attacks. I remember how he found his footing quickly. I remember him returning to Washington, D.C. that night, against the wishes of his government and his Secret Service. I remember how this President — a President I didn’t agree with, a President I never cast a supportive ballot for or whose campaign I ever donated a cent to, a President whose beliefs were diametrically opposed to almost everything that I believe in — went to Ground Zero and met with the families of those who were dead or missing, and gave them all the time they needed with him.
I remember how that President visited the rescue workers at Ground Zero. I remember, more than anything else, how President Bush climbed on to some of the rubble of the fallen towers, grabbed a bullhorn and began to speak, but was interrupted by the workers yelling, “We can’t hear you!”
I remember that the President — the only President we had at the time — shouted to these exhausted, weary, heroic rescuers, “Well, I can hear you! And the people who knocked these buildings down are gonna hear from all of us soon!”. I remember that it was genuine, that there was nothing manufactured about that moment, and that, despite all of his faults and deficiencies, George W. Bush said exactly what those people — our people — needed to hear. As the workers chanted, “USA! USA! USA!”, I remember thinking — I didn’t vote for him and I won’t vote for him in 2004, but that’s my President and I am proud of him.
As we look back, we can’t help but think about everything else that has come out of 9/11 — the interminable war in Afghanistan, the ridiculous war in Iraq, the humiliating and annoying experience that flying in an airplane has become in this country — but I think about that stuff pretty much every day, and I feel like this should always be a day where we think differently.
So, I’m going to think about those flags and candles and President Bush on top of the rubble of the World Trade Center with a bullhorn. I’m going to think about being an American — just like I was in the weeks following 9/11 — rather than being a Democrat or Republican, Liberal or Conservative, Believer or Non-Believer, Straight or Gay, White or Black or Hispanic or Asian, or any other label that we place on ourselves to show that we’re different or more than just human.
I’m going to remember thinking, “That’s my President”, as he spoke to the rescue workers, just as I did a few weeks later when President Bush went to Yankee Stadium for Game 3 of the World Series, strapped on a bulky bulletproof vest under his FDNY sweatshirt, walked to the pitcher’s mound, and with millions of Americans watching on television, with thousands of rabid New Yorkers watching in the stands, and with Derek Jeter’s words (“Don’t bounce it or they’ll boo you.”) rattling around in his head, threw a perfect strike.
I’ll remember thinking, “That’s my President”, about a guy I never voted for and didn’t agree with, and I’ll hope that you do that when the guy you didn’t vote for and didn’t agree with says the right words, does the right things, and throws a strike — not because you’re a Democrat or a Republican, but because you’re an American and that’s the only President we’ve got.
What do you remember?
I loved George W. Bush’s video, so that would probably be my favorite if I don’t include Abby Huntsman’s video. Some people would say that there’s nothing all that special about Abby Huntsman’s video, but those people are obviously not recognizing the fact that it is a video of Abby Huntsman dumping water on herself. I mean, everything about that is special, if you ask me.
Seriously, I know the ice bucket challenge is being done to death, even if it’s for a good cause, but George W. Bush’s is the best.
This is the first I’m hearing about it, but that will be very, very interesting. Bush 41 has never written a true autobiography, so it’ll be nice to have such a unique perspective from one President about another.
However, it won’t be the first time that a President has written about another President. We even nearly had another instance of a President whose father was also President writing a biography about his father — John Quincy Adams had worked off-and-on at trying to get together his father’s papers and either edit them into the autobiography that John Adams wanted to write but never finished, or write his own book about his father. Unfortunately, he never got that completed. John Quincy Adams did write a joint biography of his two immediate predecessors — The Lives of James Madison and James Monroe (BOOK | KINDLE). JQA also had book-length eulogies (which is largely what the joint biography was drawn from) on those two Presidents: An Eulogy on the Life and Character of James Monroe, published after Monroe died in 1831, and An Eulogy on the Life and Character of James Madison, published after Madison’s death in 1836.
Woodrow Wilson wrote a biography of George Washington with the snazzy title of George Washington (BOOK | KINDLE) in 1896, long before he began his own political career. And in 1958, Wilson was the subject of a biography from 84-year-old former President Herbert Hoover, The Ordeal of Woodrow Wilson. What makes Hoover’s book about Wilson especially fascinating was that he served on behalf of President Wilson during the war effort of World War I and wrote about the toll that the Presidency, particularly the battle to win ratification of the Treaty of Versailles and American entry into the League of Nations, exacted on Wilson.
To me, the book by George W. Bush about his father is by far the most intriguing of any book by a President about a President. Bush 43 also didn’t write a traditional post-Presidential autobiography; his 2010 book, Decision Points (BOOK | KINDLE), was more of a memoir on specific events of his Presidency. But I found it to be a lot more candid than I expected. Any Presidential autobiography of memoir is going to contain some revisionist history because it’s often their last chance to personally shape their legacy, and Decision Points certainly contains a lot of that, but it was also far more personal than I imaged it would be. I’m excited about the prospect of the book you mentioned.
That is such a GREAT question because the answer can go so many different ways and spur some fantastic debate. The Presidency is a difficult and terribly exhausting job every day and most Presidents have faced a lot of adversity throughout their terms simply because of the very nature of the position and its responsibilities. There are dozens of individual days that are hard to argue with if they are suggested by someone to be the most difficult single day faced by a President over the 225 years that the job has been in service.
I think that the day you suggested is undoubtedly near the top of the list, as are any of the days when a Vice President assumes the office upon the assassination or death from natural causes of the incumbent President, and November 22, 1963 was, of course, one of the darkest days in the nation’s history. The emotions and thoughts possessed by the people on Air Force One as LBJ took the oath office and they prepared to fly back to Washington, D.C. with JFK in a casket just a couple of hours after he arrived in Dallas on that same airplane very much alive are unimaginable. There are just no words for a tragedy of that magnitude, and, as you mentioned, the presence of a newly-widowed Jackie Kennedy, clearly in shock and standing in the crowded cabin of the plane with her husband’s blood and brain matter staining her clothing, adds a whole different dimension to the tragic day and was a hell of a way for someone to begin their Presidency. There was also the fact that nobody knew the scope of the assassination and whether there might be something even more sinister — an international conspiracy or a plot to decapitate the entire federal government — going on. Plus, LBJ was the only President to actually witness his predecessor’s assassination. As if a Presidential assassination isn’t shocking and traumatic enough, Johnson was only a couple of cars back in the motorcade. He saw what happened and he was taken to Parkland Hospital right behind JFK; LBJ caught a glimpse of the scene inside JFK’s limousine as the Secret Service past the vehicle in order to keep him protected inside the hospital; Johnson was in the building when Kennedy was officially pronounced dead. I’ve always thought that one of the strangest feelings ever experienced by a President had to have been when an aide entered the room where LBJ was being held inside Parkland Hospital and addressed him as “Mr. President” — the moment he realized that JFK was dead and that he was now President. Imagine that.
And yet, even with everything mentioned above, I think there are two other more difficult days faced by Presidents. One is April 12, 1945 — another day in which a President died in office and was succeeded by his Vice President. In this case, it was Franklin D. Roosevelt, who died suddenly at his retreat in Warm Springs, Georgia, and was succeeded by Harry S Truman.
FDR was clearly dying when he won an unprecedented fourth term as President in 1944, and his health was declining noticeably. When he took the oath of office for his fourth term in January 1945, FDR was sworn in on the South Portico of the White House instead of at the U.S. Capitol. It was said that the inaugural festivities were scaled back because of World War II and that certainly played a part, but FDR’s failing health was also a factor. At just 557 words, Roosevelt’s Inaugural Address was the second-shortest in American history — only George Washington’s second Inaugural Address (March 4, 1793), which was 135 words long, was shorter than FDR’s fourth. After the physically taxing trip and summit with Stalin and Churchill at Yalta and meetings with other Allied leaders in February 1945 — a journey which would have been punishing for even a healthy person — FDR gave a report on the agreements to a Joint Session of Congress. At Yalta, officials from the other Allied delegations were alarmed by FDR’s appearance and when FDR gave his speech to Congress he did so from a seated position, apologizing for his “unusual posture” and noted that it was “easier for me not to have to carry about ten pounds of steel around on the bottom of my legs.” The reference to the leg braces he had worn since contracting polio in 1921 was the first time Roosevelt had ever publicly acknowledged his physical disability, and members of Congress now saw what those at the Yalta Conference had seen — FDR was gravely ill.
One person who did not realize how badly the President was ailing was the Vice President, Harry Truman. In 1944, President Roosevelt had dumped his Vice President, Henry Wallace, from the ticket, and seemingly put the decision of his running mate largely in the hands of the Democratic National Convention. In reality, Roosevelt was virtually positive that he would not survive his fourth term and he wasn’t simply choosing a Vice President — he was choosing a successor. Vice President Wallace didn’t cut it as a successor (not to FDR and definitely not to the leaders of the Democratic Party), and Truman steered the Convention towards Truman, Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas, and James F. Byrnes, a former Congressman, former Senator, former Supreme Court Justice, a longtime advisor-without-portfolio to FDR and the ultra-powerful director of the War Mobilization Board.
Roosevelt eventually decided that Truman was the guy he wanted and worked behind-the-scenes to get him nominated at the Convention despite a floor fight by passionate supporters of Wallace who wanted to keep him on the ticket and by Truman’s own reluctance to leave the Senate, a job he loved more than anything he had ever done in his life, for the Vice Presidency, which was powerless and boring and lacked even a hint of influence within Presidential Administrations at that point in history. Once elected and sworn in as Vice President, Truman was no different than any of the previous Vice Presidents — he had nothing to do, wasn’t included in on decisions or discussions of policy, and had almost no personal or professional relationship with President Roosevelt. The only thing of note that Truman did during his Vice Presidency was cast a tie-breaking vote in the Senate to help his predecessor in the Vice Presidency, Henry Wallace, get confirmed as Secretary of Commerce. Truman spent most of his days on Capitol Hill, and was at having drinks with a small group of Congressmen and Senator in the office of House Speaker Sam Rayburn on April 12, 1945 when he got a call summoning him to the White House ASAP.
Truman wasn’t sure what was going on, but Allied troops were quickly closing in on Berlin that month from the west and the east, so it could have been just about anything. When he arrived at the White House, it was First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt who told him, quite bluntly, “Harry, the President is dead.” Despite FDR’s poor health, Truman was stunned. “Is there anything I can do for you?”, the new President asked Eleanor Roosevelt, and the new widow responded, “Is there anything we can do for you? For you are the one in trouble now.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration. World War II was coming to a close in Europe and still raging in the Pacific. Within two-and-a-half weeks of Truman’s succession to the Presidency, Mussolini was captured and killed by his own people in Italy, Berlin fell to the Soviets, Hitler killed himself in his bunker, Germany surrendered, and the war ended in Europe. And, at some point shortly after Truman was sworn into office, Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson briefed him on the work being done to build an atomic bomb. Truman — the only President to order a nuclear strike — was completely in the dark about the Manhattan Project and the goal of building a nuclear weapon until after he became President. With all of that to come, everything going in on the world, and the fact that he had suddenly succeeded the longest-serving President in American history — a man whose image was hanging in the houses of millions Americans next to an image of Jesus — in the midst of the bloodiest war in the history of the world is why Truman’s April 12, 1945 was a more difficult day than LBJ’s November 22, 1963. The day after he was sworn into office, Truman said to reporters, “I don’t know whether you fellows ever had a load of hay fall on you, but when they told me what had happened, I felt like the moon, the stars, and all the planets had fallen on me.”
The other day that I would consider one of the single most difficult days experienced by a President doesn’t require much of an explanation because most of us remember it well. We lived through it and it’s tragically memorable in the same way that older generations remember November 22, 1963 or another day that was very difficult for a President, December 7, 1941 (the day of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor). No matter how I voted, or how I felt about George W. Bush when it came to other issues and his Presidency overall, I will never forget his poise during the days after September 11, 2001, which was without a doubt one of the toughest days any President has ever experienced. He was a bit unsteady on the day of the attacks, at least in his statements early in the day, but we were all unsteady. We didn’t know what the hell was going on, and the President was in the frustrating position of not being allowed by the Secret Service to return to Washington, D.C. until later in the evening. He was removed from the situation, forced to remain in the air aboard Air Force One as it flew across the country, protected by fighter jets, to a secure location in Nebraska. President Bush began to find his footing with his address to the nation that night from the Oval Office once he finally ordered to be taken home to Washington, and he was fantastic throughout the rest of that week, especially at the National Prayer Service and when he visited with the family members of victims and with rescue workers at Ground Zero.
Knowing how difficult 9/11 was for regular Americans like me, far removed from the horror in Manhattan, in Pennsylvania, and at the Pentagon, I can’t imagine how hard that day was to the actual victims of the attacks, or those people connected to the victims. And it’s impossible to understand how hard September 11, 2001 was for the President of the United States, from the moment Andy Card whispered the news to him in that classroom in Sarasota, Florida until he finally went to sleep that night after a day of attacks on the country unlike any that any other President has ever faced. Like I said at the beginning of this answer (approximately 90,000 words ago), this is a great question because it has so many possible answers and opens up a very interesting debate. But in my opinion, no President had a more difficult single day than George W. Bush on September 11, 2001.
43rd President of the United States (2001-2009)
Full Name: George Walker Bush
Born: July 6, 1946, Grace-New Haven Hospital, New Haven, Connecticut
Political Party: Republican
State Represented: Texas
Term: January 20, 2001-January 20, 2009
Age at Inauguration: 54 years, 198 days
Administration: 54th and 55th
Congresses: 107th, 108th, 109th, and 110th
Vice President: Richard Bruce “Dick” Cheney (2001-2009)
Age at Death:
Buried: (Bush has announced plans to be buried at Texas State Cemetery, Austin, Texas)
2012 Dead Presidents Ranking: 36 of 43 [↔]
It is very difficult to rank recent Presidents. In most surveys, recent Presidents are usually ranked way too high or way too low, and their positioning shifts quite a bit in the decade after they leave office. Today, George W. Bush’s Administration is not well-regarded by most Americans, yet he is undoubtedly more popular than he was during the 2008 campaign or even in the months after he retired to Dallas. The unpopular War in Iraq, the seemingly endless Afghanistan War, and the decimated economy that Bush 43 passed on to his successor continues to reflect badly on Bush and hurt his legacy. That may change as history unfolds and I wouldn’t hesitate to bet that Bush rises in the rankings over the next few years, but right now, the eight years of the Bush Administration are still raw and still painful.
1948: Schlesinger Sr./Life Magazine: Not Ranked
1962: Schlesinger Sr./New York Times Magazine: Not Ranked
1982: Neal/Chicago Tribune Magazine: Not Ranked
1990: Siena Institute: Not Ranked
1996: Schlesinger Jr./New York Times Magazine: Not Ranked
2000: C-SPAN Survey of Historians: Not Ranked
2000: C-SPAN Public Opinion Poll: Not Ranked
2005: Wall Street Journal/Presidential Leadership: 19 of 40
2009: C-SPAN Survey of Historians: 36 of 42
2010: Siena Institute: 39 of 43
2011: University of London’s U.S. Presidency Centre: 31 of 40
George H.W. Bush, on Jimmy Carter’s comments about George W. Bush, Esquire Magazine, September 20, 2010.
In May 2007, Carter said of Bush 43, “I think as far as the adverse impact on the nation and around the world, this Administration has been the worst in history.”
George W. Bush has said from the beginning that he would never criticize his successor. Most recent Presidents have almost turned that into a tradition. Bush’s father was adamant about not criticizing Bill Clinton and Bush 43 has followed his lead. Clinton, for the most part, has done the same. Reagan didn’t speak out about any of his successors, either, but his Alzheimer’s Disease limited his public exposure pretty early into his retirement. Ford rarely criticized his successors — the most candid quotes from Ford about his successors, revealed in conversations with author Thomas DeFrank, were embargoed until after his death.
Jimmy Carter is the only recent President who didn’t do that, and it hasn’t sat well with his successors. Bush 41 has said that he was very angry at some of the things Carter said about Bush 43, and Clinton and Carter have never had a close relationship. When all of the living Presidents gather together at an event, you can tell that Carter is the odd man out — he’s not well-liked, while the other living Presidents are all pretty close personally.
I think that it’s pretty classy of former Presidents not so criticize their successors. They recognize how difficult the job of President of the United States is, and once they’ve held the office, most seem to want to be supportive of their successors.
Vice Presidents and Vice Presidential candidates always tend to be the hatchet men in campaigns and during Administrations. But Cheney has been vicious about Obama almost since the day he left office. I mean, there’s nothing that says he can’t do that, but I have more respect for the way George W. Bush has handled his retirement. There’s a level of statesmanship that I think is important for our leaders (and former leaders), and Cheney would rather be an attack dog. I don’t remember exactly where I read it, but I recall reading that Bush has actually been disappointed with some of Cheney’s comments since leaving office, and I think that all stems from Bush’s belief that they had their shot, they can’t change the way historians will interpret what they did, and they should remain above the fray. Like I said, there’s no right or wrong way to go about it, but I have more respect for Bush’s way.