Source: Page 48 of White Noise Keywords: "spoke," "planning," "length"

From: "D.F. Manno" <dfm2a3l0t2@spymac.com> Subject: NBC: The faith-based presidency (NYT Mag) Date: 18 Oct 2004 Newsgroups: rec.music.artists.springsteen

Hey, if Balloon can do it, so can I: > Without a Doubt > By RON SUSKIND > > Published: October 17, 2004 > > Bruce Bartlett, a domestic policy adviser to Ronald Reagan and a treasury > official for the first President Bush, told me recently that ''if Bush wins, > there will be a civil war in the Republican Party starting on Nov. 3.'' The > nature of that conflict, as Bartlett sees it? Essentially, the same as the > one raging across much of the world: a battle between modernists and > fundamentalists, pragmatists and true believers, reason and religion. > > ''Just in the past few months,'' Bartlett said, ''I think a light has gone > off for people who've spent time up close to Bush: that this instinct he's > always talking about is this sort of weird, Messianic idea of what he thinks > God has told him to do.'' Bartlett, a 53-year-old columnist and > self-described libertarian Republican who has lately been a champion for > traditional Republicans concerned about Bush's governance, went on to say: > ''This is why George W. Bush is so clear-eyed about Al Qaeda and the Islamic > fundamentalist enemy. He believes you have to kill them all. They can't be > persuaded, that they're extremists, driven by a dark vision. He understands > them, because he's just like them. . . . > > ''This is why he dispenses with people who confront him with inconvenient > facts,'' Bartlett went on to say. ''He truly believes he's on a mission from > God. Absolute faith like that overwhelms a need for analysis. The whole thing > about faith is to believe things for which there is no empirical evidence.'' > Bartlett paused, then said, ''But you can't run the world on faith.'' > > > Forty democratic senators were gathered for a lunch in March just off the > Senate floor. I was there as a guest speaker. Joe Biden was telling a story, > a story about the president. ''I was in the Oval Office a few months after we > swept into Baghdad,'' he began, ''and I was telling the president of my many > concerns'' -- concerns about growing problems winning the peace, the > explosive mix of Shiite and Sunni, the disbanding of the Iraqi Army and > problems securing the oil fields. Bush, Biden recalled, just looked at him, > unflappably sure that the United States was on the right course and that all > was well. '''Mr. President,' I finally said, 'How can you be so sure when you > know you don't know the facts?''' > > Biden said that Bush stood up and put his hand on the senator's shoulder. > ''My instincts,'' he said. ''My instincts.'' > > Biden paused and shook his head, recalling it all as the room grew quiet. ''I > said, 'Mr. President, your instincts aren't good enough!''' > > > The democrat Biden and the Republican Bartlett are trying to make sense of > the same thing -- a president who has been an extraordinary blend of > forcefulness and inscrutability, opacity and action. > > But lately, words and deeds are beginning to connect. > > The Delaware senator was, in fact, hearing what Bush's top deputies -- from > cabinet members like Paul O'Neill, Christine Todd Whitman and Colin Powell to > generals fighting in Iraq -- have been told for years when they requested > explanations for many of the president's decisions, policies that often > seemed to collide with accepted facts. The president would say that he relied > on his ''gut'' or his ''instinct'' to guide the ship of state, and then he > ''prayed over it.'' The old pro Bartlett, a deliberative, fact-based wonk, is > finally hearing a tune that has been hummed quietly by evangelicals (so as > not to trouble the secular) for years as they gazed upon President George W. > Bush. This evangelical group -- the core of the energetic ''base'' that may > well usher Bush to victory -- believes that their leader is a messenger from > God. And in the first presidential debate, many Americans heard the > discursive John Kerry succinctly raise, for the first time, the issue of > Bush's certainty -- the issue being, as Kerry put it, that ''you can be > certain and be wrong.'' > > What underlies Bush's certainty? And can it be assessed in the temporal realm > of informed consent? > > All of this -- the ''gut'' and ''instincts,'' the certainty and religiosity > -connects to a single word, ''faith,'' and faith asserts its hold ever more > on debates in this country and abroad. That a deep Christian faith > illuminated the personal journey of George W. Bush is common knowledge. But > faith has also shaped his presidency in profound, nonreligious ways. The > president has demanded unquestioning faith from his followers, his staff, his > senior aides and his kindred in the Republican Party. Once he makes a > decision -- often swiftly, based on a creed or moral position -- he expects > complete faith in its rightness. > > The disdainful smirks and grimaces that many viewers were surprised to see in > the first presidential debate are familiar expressions to those in the > administration or in Congress who have simply asked the president to explain > his positions. Since 9/11, those requests have grown scarce; Bush's > intolerance of doubters has, if anything, increased, and few dare to question > him now. A writ of infallibility -- a premise beneath the powerful Bushian > certainty that has, in many ways, moved mountains -- is not just for public > consumption: it has guided the inner life of the White House. As Whitman told > me on the day in May 2003 that she announced her resignation as administrator > of the Environmental Protection Agency: ''In meetings, I'd ask if there were > any facts to support our case. And for that, I was accused of disloyalty!'' > (Whitman, whose faith in Bush has since been renewed, denies making these > remarks and is now a leader of the president's re-election effort in New > Jersey.) > > The nation's founders, smarting still from the punitive pieties of Europe's > state religions, were adamant about erecting a wall between organized > religion and political authority. But suddenly, that seems like a long time > ago. George W. Bush -- both captive and creator of this moment -- has > steadily, inexorably, changed the office itself. He has created the > faith-based presidency. > > The faith-based presidency is a with-us-or-against-us model that has been > enormously effective at, among other things, keeping the workings and > temperament of the Bush White House a kind of state secret. The dome of > silence cracked a bit in the late winter and spring, with revelations from > the former counterterrorism czar Richard Clarke and also, in my book, from > the former Bush treasury secretary Paul O'Neill. When I quoted O'Neill saying > that Bush was like ''a blind man in a room full of deaf people,'' this did > not endear me to the White House. But my phone did begin to ring, with > Democrats and Republicans calling with similar impressions and anecdotes > about Bush's faith and certainty. These are among the sources I relied upon > for this article. Few were willing to talk on the record. Some were willing > to talk because they said they thought George W. Bush might lose; others, out > of fear of what might transpire if he wins. In either case, there seems to be > a growing silence fatigue -- public servants, some with vast experience, who > feel they have spent years being treated like Victorian-era children, seen > but not heard, and are tired of it. But silence still reigns in the highest > reaches of the White House. After many requests, Dan Bartlett, the White > House communications director, said in a letter that the president and those > around him would not be cooperating with this article in any way. > > Some officials, elected or otherwise, with whom I have spoken with left > meetings in the Oval Office concerned that the president was struggling with > the demands of the job. Others focused on Bush's substantial interpersonal > gifts as a compensation for his perceived lack of broader capabilities. Still > others, like Senator Carl Levin of Michigan, a Democrat, are worried about > something other than his native intelligence. ''He's plenty smart enough to > do the job,'' Levin said. ''It's his lack of curiosity about complex issues > which troubles me.'' But more than anything else, I heard expressions of awe > at the president's preternatural certainty and wonderment about its source. > > There is one story about Bush's particular brand of certainty I am able to > piece together and tell for the record. > > In the Oval Office in December 2002, the president met with a few ranking > senators and members of the House, both Republicans and Democrats. In those > days, there were high hopes that the United States-sponsored ''road map'' for > the Israelis and Palestinians would be a pathway to peace, and the discussion > that wintry day was, in part, about countries providing peacekeeping forces > in the region. The problem, everyone agreed, was that a number of European > countries, like France and Germany, had armies that were not trusted by > either the Israelis or Palestinians. One congressman -- the Hungarian-born > Tom Lantos, a Democrat from California and the only Holocaust survivor in > Congress -- mentioned that the Scandinavian countries were viewed more > positively. Lantos went on to describe for the president how the Swedish Army > might be an ideal candidate to anchor a small peacekeeping force on the West > Bank and the Gaza Strip. Sweden has a well-trained force of about 25,000. The > president looked at him appraisingly, several people in the room recall. > > ''I don't know why you're talking about Sweden,'' Bush said. ''They're the > neutral one. They don't have an army.'' > > Lantos paused, a little shocked, and offered a gentlemanly reply: ''Mr. > President, you may have thought that I said Switzerland. They're the ones > that are historically neutral, without an army.'' Then Lantos mentioned, in a > gracious aside, that the Swiss do have a tough national guard to protect the > country in the event of invasion. > > Bush held to his view. ''No, no, it's Sweden that has no army.'' > > The room went silent, until someone changed the subject. > > A few weeks later, members of Congress and their spouses gathered with > administration officials and other dignitaries for the White House Christmas > party. The president saw Lantos and grabbed him by the shoulder. ''You were > right,'' he said, with bonhomie. ''Sweden does have an army.'' > > This story was told to me by one of the senators in the Oval Office that > December day, Joe Biden. Lantos, a liberal Democrat, would not comment about > it. In general, people who meet with Bush will not discuss their encounters. > (Lantos, through a spokesman, says it is a longstanding policy of his not to > discuss Oval Office meetings.) > > This is one key feature of the faith-based presidency: open dialogue, based > on facts, is not seen as something of inherent value. It may, in fact, create > doubt, which undercuts faith. It could result in a loss of confidence in the > decision-maker and, just as important, by the decision-maker. Nothing could > be more vital, whether staying on message with the voters or the terrorists > or a California congressman in a meeting about one of the world's most > nagging problems. As Bush himself has said any number of times on the > campaign trail, ''By remaining resolute and firm and strong, this world will > be peaceful.'' > > > He didn't always talk this way. A precious glimpse of Bush, just as he was > ascending to the presidency, comes from Jim Wallis, a man with the added > advantage of having deep acuity about the struggles between fact and faith. > Wallis, an evangelical pastor who for 30 years has run the Sojourners -- a > progressive organization of advocates for social justice -- was asked during > the transition to help pull together a diverse group of members of the clergy > to talk about faith and poverty with the new president-elect. > > In December 2000, Bush sat in the classroom of a Baptist church in Austin, > Tex., with 30 or so clergy members and asked, ''How do I speak to the soul of > the nation?'' He listened as each guest articulated a vision of what might > be. The afternoon hours passed. No one wanted to leave. People rose from > their chairs and wandered the room, huddling in groups, conversing > passionately. In one cluster, Bush and Wallis talked of their journeys. > > ''I've never lived around poor people,'' Wallis remembers Bush saying. ''I > don't know what they think. I really don't know what they think. I'm a white > Republican guy who doesn't get it. How do I get it?'' > > Wallis recalls replying, ''You need to listen to the poor and those who live > and work with poor people.'' > > Bush called over his speechwriter, Michael Gerson, and said, ''I want you to > hear this.'' A month later, an almost identical line -- ''many in our country > do not know the pain of poverty, but we can listen to those who do'' -- ended > up in the inaugural address. > > That was an earlier Bush, one rather more open and conversant, matching his > impulsiveness with a can-do attitude and seemingly unafraid of engaging with > a diverse group. The president has an array of interpersonal gifts that fit > well with this fearlessness -- a headlong, unalloyed quality, best suited to > ranging among different types of people, searching for the outlines of what > will take shape as principles. > > Yet this strong suit, an improvisational gift, has long been forced to > wrestle with its ''left brain'' opposite -- a struggle, across 30 years, with > the critical and analytical skills so prized in America's professional class. > In terms of intellectual faculties, that has been the ongoing battle for this > talented man, first visible during the lackluster years at Yale and five > years of drift through his 20's -- a time when peers were busy building > credentials in law, business or medicine. > > Biden, who early on became disenchanted with Bush's grasp of foreign-policy > issues and is among John Kerry's closest Senate friends, has spent a lot of > time trying to size up the president. ''Most successful people are good at > identifying, very early, their strengths and weaknesses, at knowing > themselves,'' he told me not long ago. ''For most of us average Joes, that > meant we've relied on strengths but had to work on our weakness -- to lift > them to adequacy -- otherwise they might bring us down. I don't think the > president really had to do that, because he always had someone there -- his > family or friends -- to bail him out. I don't think, on balance, that has > served him well for the moment he's in now as president. He never seems to > have worked on his weaknesses.'' > > Bush has been called the C.E.O. president, but that's just a catch phrase -- > he never ran anything of consequence in the private sector. The M.B.A. > president would be more accurate: he did, after all, graduate from Harvard > Business School. And some who have worked under him in the White House and > know about business have spotted a strange business-school time warp. It's as > if a 1975 graduate from H.B.S. -- one who had little chance to season theory > with practice during the past few decades of change in corporate America -- > has simply been dropped into the most challenging management job in the > world. > > One aspect of the H.B.S. method, with its emphasis on problems of actual > corporations, is sometimes referred to as the ''case cracker'' problem. The > case studies are static, generally a snapshot of a troubled company, frozen > in time; the various ''solutions'' students proffer, and then defend in class > against tough questioning, tend to have very short shelf lives. They promote > rigidity, inappropriate surety. This is something H.B.S. graduates, most of > whom land at large or midsize firms, learn in their first few years in > business. They discover, often to their surprise, that the world is dynamic, > it flows and changes, often for no good reason. The key is flexibility, > rather than sticking to your guns in a debate, and constant reassessment of > shifting realities. In short, thoughtful second-guessing. > > George W. Bush, who went off to Texas to be an oil wildcatter, never had a > chance to learn these lessons about the power of nuanced, fact-based > analysis. The small oil companies he ran tended to lose money; much of their > value was as tax shelters. (The investors were often friends of his > father's.) Later, with the Texas Rangers baseball team, he would act as an > able front man but never really as a boss. > > Instead of learning the limitations of his Harvard training, what George W. > Bush learned instead during these fitful years were lessons about faith and > its particular efficacy. It was in 1985, around the time of his 39th > birthday, George W. Bush says, that his life took a sharp turn toward > salvation. At that point he was drinking, his marriage was on the rocks, his > career was listless. Several accounts have emerged from those close to Bush > about a faith ''intervention'' of sorts at the Kennebunkport family compound > that year. Details vary, but here's the gist of what I understand took place. > George W., drunk at a party, crudely insulted a friend of his mother's. > George senior and Barbara blew up. Words were exchanged along the lines of > something having to be done. George senior, then the vice president, dialed > up his friend, Billy Graham, who came to the compound and spent several days > with George W. in probing exchanges and walks on the beach. George W. was > soon born again. He stopped drinking, attended Bible study and wrestled with > issues of fervent faith. A man who was lost was saved. > > His marriage may have been repaired by the power of faith, but faith was > clearly having little impact on his broken career. Faith heals the heart and > the spirit, but it doesn't do much for analytical skills. In 1990, a few > years after receiving salvation, Bush was still bumping along. Much is > apparent from one of the few instances of disinterested testimony to come > from this period. It is the voice of David Rubenstein, managing director and > cofounder of the Carlyle Group, the Washington-based investment firm that is > one of the town's most powerful institutions and a longtime business home for > the president's father. In 1989, the catering division of Marriott was taken > private and established as Caterair by a group of Carlyle investors. Several > old-guard Republicans, including the former Nixon aide Fred Malek, were > involved. > > Rubenstein described that time to a convention of pension managers in Los > Angeles last year, recalling that Malek approached him and said: ''There is a > guy who would like to be on the board. He's kind of down on his luck a bit. > Needs a job. . . . Needs some board positions.'' Though Rubenstein didn't > think George W. Bush, then in his mid-40's, ''added much value,'' he put him > on the Caterair board. ''Came to all the meetings,'' Rubenstein told the > conventioneers. ''Told a lot of jokes. Not that many clean ones. And after a > while I kind of said to him, after about three years: 'You know, I'm not sure > this is really for you. Maybe you should do something else. Because I don't > think you're adding that much value to the board. You don't know that much > about the company.' He said: 'Well, I think I'm getting out of this business > anyway. And I don't really like it that much. So I'm probably going to resign > from the board.' And I said thanks. Didn't think I'd ever see him again.'' > > Bush would soon officially resign from Caterair's board. Around this time, > Karl Rove set up meetings to discuss Bush's possible candidacy for the > governorship of Texas. Six years after that, he was elected leader of the > free world and began ''case cracking'' on a dizzying array of subjects, > proffering his various solutions, in both foreign and domestic affairs. But > the pointed ''defend your position'' queries -- so central to the H.B.S. > method and rigorous analysis of all kinds -- were infrequent. Questioning a > regional supervisor or V.P. for planning is one thing. Questioning the > president of the United States is another. > > Still, some couldn't resist. As I reported in "The Price of Loyalty," at the > Bush administration's first National Security Council meeting, Bush asked if > anyone had ever met Ariel Sharon. Some were uncertain if it was a joke. It > wasn't: Bush launched into a riff about briefly meeting Sharon two years > before, how he wouldn't ''go by past reputations when it comes to Sharon. . . > . I'm going to take him at face value,'' and how the United States should > pull out of the Arab-Israeli conflict because ''I don't see much we can do > over there at this point.'' Colin Powell, for one, seemed startled. This > would reverse 30 years of policy -- since the Nixon administration -- of > American engagement. Such a move would unleash Sharon, Powell countered, and > tear the delicate fabric of the Mideast in ways that might be irreparable. > Bush brushed aside Powell's concerns impatiently. ''Sometimes a show of force > by one side can really clarify things.'' > > Such challenges -- from either Powell or his opposite number as the top > official in domestic policy, Paul O'Neill -- were trials that Bush had less > and less patience for as the months passed. He made that clear to his top > lieutenants. Gradually, Bush lost what Richard Perle, who would later head a > largely private-sector group under Bush called the Defense Policy Board > Advisory Committee, had described as his open posture during foreign-policy > tutorials prior to the 2000 campaign. (''He had the confidence to ask > questions that revealed he didn't know very much,'' Perle said.) By midyear > 2001, a stand-and-deliver rhythm was established. Meetings, large and small, > started to take on a scripted quality. Even then, the circle around Bush was > tightening. Top officials, from cabinet members on down, were often told when > they would speak in Bush's presence, for how long and on what topic. The > president would listen without betraying any reaction. Sometimes there would > be cross-discussions -- Powell and Rumsfeld, for instance, briefly parrying > on an issue -- but the president would rarely prod anyone with direct, > informed questions. > > Each administration, over the course of a term, is steadily shaped by its > president, by his character, personality and priorities. It is a process that > unfolds on many levels. There are, of course, a chief executive's policies, > which are executed by a staff and attending bureaucracies. But a few months > along, officials, top to bottom, will also start to adopt the boss's > phraseology, his presumptions, his rhythms. If a president fishes, people buy > poles; if he expresses displeasure, aides get busy finding evidence to > support the judgment. A staff channels the leader. > > A cluster of particularly vivid qualities was shaping George W. Bush's White > House through the summer of 2001: a disdain for contemplation or > deliberation, an embrace of decisiveness, a retreat from empiricism, a > sometimes bullying impatience with doubters and even friendly questioners. > Already Bush was saying, Have faith in me and my decisions, and you'll be > rewarded. All through the White House, people were channeling the boss. He > didn't second-guess himself; why should they? > > Considering the trials that were soon to arrive, it is easy to overlook what > a difficult time this must have been for George W. Bush. For nearly three > decades, he had sat in classrooms, and then at mahogany tables in corporate > suites, with little to contribute. Then, as governor of Texas, he was graced > with a pliable enough bipartisan Legislature, and the Legislature is where > the real work in that state's governance gets done. The Texas Legislature's > tension of opposites offered the structure of point and counterpoint, which > Bush could navigate effectively with his strong, improvisational skills. > > But the mahogany tables were now in the Situation Room and in the large > conference room adjacent to the Oval Office. He guided a ruling party. Every > issue that entered that rarefied sanctum required a complex decision, > demanding focus, thoroughness and analytical potency. > > For the president, as Biden said, to be acutely aware of his weaknesses -- > and to have to worry about revealing uncertainty or need or confusion, even > to senior officials -- must have presented an untenable bind. By summer's end > that first year, Vice President Dick Cheney had stopped talking in meetings > he attended with Bush. They would talk privately, or at their weekly lunch. > The president was spending a lot of time outside the White House, often at > the ranch, in the presence of only the most trustworthy confidants. The > circle around Bush is the tightest around any president in the modern era, > and ''it's both exclusive and exclusionary,'' Christopher DeMuth, president > of the American Enterprise Institute, the neoconservative policy group, told > me. ''It's a too tightly managed decision-making process. When they make > decisions, a very small number of people are in the room, and it has a > certain effect of constricting the range of alternatives being offered.'' > > > On Sept. 11, 2001, the country watched intently to see if and how Bush would > lead. After a couple of days in which he seemed shaky and uncertain, he > emerged, and the moment he began to lead -- standing on the World Trade > Center's rubble with a bullhorn -- for much of America, any lingering doubts > about his abilities vanished. No one could afford doubt, not then. They > wanted action, and George W. Bush was ready, having never felt the reasonable > hesitations that slowed more deliberative men, and many presidents, including > his father. > > Within a few days of the attacks, Bush decided on the invasion of Afghanistan > and was barking orders. His speech to the joint session of Congress on Sept. > 20 will most likely be the greatest of his presidency. He prayed for God's > help. And many Americans, of all faiths, prayed with him -- or for him. It > was simple and nondenominational: a prayer that he'd be up to this moment, so > that he -- and, by extension, we as a country -- would triumph in that dark > hour. > > This is where the faith-based presidency truly takes shape. Faith, which for > months had been coloring the decision-making process and a host of political > tactics -- think of his address to the nation on stem-cell research -- now > began to guide events. It was the most natural ascension: George W. Bush > turning to faith in his darkest moment and discovering a wellspring of power > and confidence. > > Of course, the mandates of sound, sober analysis didn't vanish. They never > do. Ask any entrepreneur with a blazing idea when, a few years along, the > first debt payments start coming due. Or the C.E.O., certain that a high > stock price affirms his sweeping vision, until that neglected, flagging > division cripples the company. There's a startled look -- how'd that happen? > In this case, the challenge of mobilizing the various agencies of the United > States government and making certain that agreed-upon goals become > demonstrable outcomes grew exponentially. > > Looking back at the months directly following 9/11, virtually every leading > military analyst seems to believe that rather than using Afghan proxies, we > should have used more American troops, deployed more quickly, to pursue Osama > bin Laden in the mountains of Tora Bora. Many have also been critical of the > president's handling of Saudi Arabia, home to 15 of the 19 hijackers; despite > Bush's setting goals in the so-called ''financial war on terror,'' the Saudis > failed to cooperate with American officials in hunting for the financial > sources of terror. Still, the nation wanted bold action and was delighted to > get it. Bush's approval rating approached 90 percent. Meanwhile, the > executive's balance between analysis and resolution, between contemplation > and action, was being tipped by the pull of righteous faith. > > It was during a press conference on Sept. 16, in response to a question about > homeland security efforts infringing on civil rights, that Bush first used > the telltale word ''crusade'' in public. ''This is a new kind of -- a new > kind of evil,'' he said. ''And we understand. And the American people are > beginning to understand. This crusade, this war on terrorism is going to take > a while.'' > > Muslims around the world were incensed. Two days later, Ari Fleischer tried > to perform damage control. ''I think what the president was saying was -- had > no intended consequences for anybody, Muslim or otherwise, other than to say > that this is a broad cause that he is calling on America and the nations > around the world to join.'' As to ''any connotations that would upset any of > our partners, or anybody else in the world, the president would regret if > anything like that was conveyed.'' > > A few months later, on Feb. 1, 2002, Jim Wallis of the Sojourners stood in > the Roosevelt Room for the introduction of Jim Towey as head of the > president's faith-based and community initiative. John DiIulio, the original > head, had left the job feeling that the initiative was not about > ''compassionate conservatism,'' as originally promised, but rather a > political giveaway to the Christian right, a way to consolidate and energize > that part of the base. > > Moments after the ceremony, Bush saw Wallis. He bounded over and grabbed the > cheeks of his face, one in each hand, and squeezed. ''Jim, how ya doin', how > ya doin'!'' he exclaimed. Wallis was taken aback. Bush excitedly said that > his massage therapist had given him Wallis's book, ''Faith Works.'' His joy > at seeing Wallis, as Wallis and others remember it, was palpable -- a > president, wrestling with faith and its role at a time of peril, seeing that > rare bird: an independent counselor. Wallis recalls telling Bush he was doing > fine, '''but in the State of the Union address a few days before, you said > that unless we devote all our energies, our focus, our resources on this war > on terrorism, we're going to lose.' I said, 'Mr. President, if we don't > devote our energy, our focus and our time on also overcoming global poverty > and desperation, we will lose not only the war on poverty, but we'll lose the > war on terrorism.''' > > Bush replied that that was why America needed the leadership of Wallis and > other members of the clergy. > > ''No, Mr. President,'' Wallis says he told Bush, ''We need your leadership on > this question, and all of us will then commit to support you. Unless we drain > the swamp of injustice in which the mosquitoes of terrorism breed, we'll > never defeat the threat of terrorism.'' > > Bush looked quizzically at the minister, Wallis recalls. They never spoke > again after that. > > ''When I was first with Bush in Austin, what I saw was a self-help Methodist, > very open, seeking,'' Wallis says now. ''What I started to see at this point > was the man that would emerge over the next year -- a messianic American > Calvinist. He doesn't want to hear from anyone who doubts him.'' > > But with a country crying out for intrepid leadership, does a president have > time to entertain doubters? In a speech in Alaska two weeks later, Bush again > referred to the war on terror as a ''crusade.'' > > In the summer of 2002, after I had written an article in Esquire that the > White House didn't like about Bush's former communications director, Karen > Hughes, I had a meeting with a senior adviser to Bush. He expressed the White > House's displeasure, and then he told me something that at the time I didn't > fully comprehend -- but which I now believe gets to the very heart of the > Bush presidency. > > The aide said that guys like me were ''in what we call the reality-based > community,'' which he defined as people who ''believe that solutions emerge > from your judicious study of discernible reality.'' I nodded and murmured > something about enlightenment principles and empiricism. He cut me off. > ''That's not the way the world really works anymore,'' he continued. ''We're > an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you're > studying that reality -- judiciously, as you will -- we'll act again, > creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that's how things > will sort out. We're history's actors . . . and you, all of you, will be left > to just study what we do.'' > > Who besides guys like me are part of the reality-based community? Many of the > other elected officials in Washington, it would seem. A group of Democratic > and Republican members of Congress were called in to discuss Iraq sometime > before the October 2002 vote authorizing Bush to move forward. A Republican > senator recently told Time Magazine that the president walked in and said: > ''Look, I want your vote. I'm not going to debate it with you.'' When one of > the senators began to ask a question, Bush snapped, ''Look, I'm not going to > debate it with you.'' > > The 9/11 commission did not directly address the question of whether Bush > exerted influence over the intelligence community about the existence of > weapons of mass destruction. That question will be investigated after the > election, but if no tangible evidence of undue pressure is found, few > officials or alumni of the administration whom I spoke to are likely to be > surprised. ''If you operate in a certain way -- by saying this is how I want > to justify what I've already decided to do, and I don't care how you pull it > off -- you guarantee that you'll get faulty, one-sided information,'' Paul > O'Neill, who was asked to resign his post of treasury secretary in December > 2002, said when we had dinner a few weeks ago. ''You don't have to issue an > edict, or twist arms, or be overt.'' > > In a way, the president got what he wanted: a National Intelligence Estimate > on W.M.D. that creatively marshaled a few thin facts, and then Colin Powell > putting his credibility on the line at the United Nations in a show of faith. > That was enough for George W. Bush to press forward and invade Iraq. As he > told his quasi-memoirist, Bob Woodward, in ''Plan of Attack'': ''Going into > this period, I was praying for strength to do the Lord's will. . . . I'm > surely not going to justify the war based upon God. Understand that. > Nevertheless, in my case, I pray to be as good a messenger of his will as > possible.'' > > Machiavelli's oft-cited line about the adequacy of the perception of power > prompts a question. Is the appearance of confidence as important as its > possession? Can confidence -- true confidence -- be willed? Or must it be > earned? > > George W. Bush, clearly, is one of history's great confidence men. That is > not meant in the huckster's sense, though many critics claim that on the war > in Iraq, the economy and a few other matters he has engaged in some manner of > bait-and-switch. No, I mean it in the sense that he's a believer in the power > of confidence. At a time when constituents are uneasy and enemies are probing > for weaknesses, he clearly feels that unflinching confidence has an almost > mystical power. It can all but create reality. > > Whether you can run the world on faith, it's clear you can run one hell of a > campaign on it. > > George W. Bush and his team have constructed a high-performance electoral > engine. The soul of this new machine is the support of millions of likely > voters, who judge his worth based on intangibles -- character, certainty, > fortitude and godliness -- rather than on what he says or does. The deeper > the darkness, the brighter this filament of faith glows, a faith in the > president and the just God who affirms him. > > The leader of the free world is clearly comfortable with this calculus and > artfully encourages it. In the series of televised, carefully choreographed > ''Ask President Bush'' events with supporters around the country, sessions > filled with prayers and blessings, one questioner recently summed up the > feelings of so many Christian conservatives, the core of the Bush army. > ''I've voted Republican from the very first time I could vote,'' said Gary > Walby, a retired jeweler from Destin, Fla., as he stood before the president > in a crowded college gym. ''And I also want to say this is the very first > time that I have felt that God was in the White House.'' Bush simply said > ''thank you'' as a wave of raucous applause rose from the assembled. > > Every few months, a report surfaces of the president using strikingly > Messianic language, only to be dismissed by the White House. Three months > ago, for instance, in a private meeting with Amish farmers in Lancaster > County, Pa., Bush was reported to have said, ''I trust God speaks through > me.'' In this ongoing game of winks and nods, a White House spokesman denied > the president had specifically spoken those words, but noted that ''his faith > helps him in his service to people.'' > > A recent Gallup Poll noted that 42 percent of Americans identify themselves > as evangelical or ''born again.'' While this group leans Republican, it > includes black urban churches and is far from monolithic. But Bush clearly > draws his most ardent supporters and tireless workers from this group, many > from a healthy subset of approximately four million evangelicals who didn't > vote in 2000 -- potential new arrivals to the voting booth who could tip a > close election or push a tight contest toward a rout. > > This signaling system -- forceful, national, varied, yet clean of the > president's specific fingerprint -- carries enormous weight. Lincoln Chafee, > the moderate Republican senator from Rhode Island, has broken with the > president precisely over concerns about the nature of Bush's certainty. > ''This issue,'' he says, of Bush's ''announcing that 'I carry the word of > God' is the key to the election. The president wants to signal to the base > with that message, but in the swing states he does not.'' > > Come to the hustings on Labor Day and meet the base. In 2004, you know a > candidate by his base, and the Bush campaign is harnessing the might of > churches, with hordes of voters registering through church-sponsored > programs. Following the news of Bush on his national tour in the week after > the Republican convention, you could sense how a faith-based president > campaigns: on a surf of prayer and righteous rage. > > Righteous rage -- that's what Hardy Billington felt when he heard about > same-sex marriage possibly being made legal in Massachusetts. ''It made me > upset and disgusted, things going on in Massachusetts,'' the 52-year-old from > Poplar Bluff, Mo., told me. ''I prayed, then I got to work.'' Billington > spent $830 in early July to put up a billboard on the edge of town. It read: > ''I Support President Bush and the Men and Women Fighting for Our Country. We > Invite President Bush to Visit Poplar Bluff.'' Soon Billington and his friend > David Hahn, a fundamentalist preacher, started a petition drive. They > gathered 10,000 signatures. That fact eventually reached the White House > scheduling office. > > By late afternoon on a cloudy Labor Day, with a crowd of more than 20,000 > assembled in a public park, Billington stepped to the podium. ''The largest > group I ever talked to I think was seven people, and I'm not much of a > talker,'' Billington, a shy man with three kids and a couple of dozen rental > properties that he owns, told me several days later. ''I've never been so > frightened.'' > > But Billington said he ''looked to God'' and said what was in his heart. > ''The United States is the greatest country in the world,'' he told the > rally. ''President Bush is the greatest president I have ever known. I love > my president. I love my country. And more important, I love Jesus Christ.'' > > The crowd went wild, and they went wild again when the president finally > arrived and gave his stump speech. There were Bush's periodic stumbles and > gaffes, but for the followers of the faith-based president, that was just > fine. They got it -- and ''it'' was the faith. > > And for those who don't get it? That was explained to me in late 2002 by Mark > McKinnon, a longtime senior media adviser to Bush, who now runs his own > consulting firm and helps the president. He started by challenging me. ''You > think he's an idiot, don't you?'' I said, no, I didn't. ''No, you do, all of > you do, up and down the West Coast, the East Coast, a few blocks in southern > Manhattan called Wall Street. Let me clue you in. We don't care. You see, > you're outnumbered 2 to 1 by folks in the big, wide middle of America, busy > working people who don't read The New York Times or Washington Post or The > L.A. Times. And you know what they like? They like the way he walks and the > way he points, the way he exudes confidence. They have faith in him. And when > you attack him for his malaprops, his jumbled syntax, it's good for us. > Because you know what those folks don't like? They don't like you!'' In this > instance, the final ''you,'' of course, meant the entire reality-based > community. > > The bond between Bush and his base is a bond of mutual support. He supports > them with his actions, doing his level best to stand firm on wedge issues > like abortion and same-sex marriage while he identifies evil in the world, at > home and abroad. They respond with fierce faith. The power of this > transaction is something that people, especially those who are religious, > tend to connect to their own lives. If you have faith in someone, that person > is filled like a vessel. Your faith is the wind beneath his or her wings. > That person may well rise to the occasion and surprise you: I had faith in > you, and my faith was rewarded. Or, I know you've been struggling, and I need > to pray harder. > > Bush's speech that day in Poplar Bluff finished with a mythic appeal: ''For > all Americans, these years in our history will always stand apart,'' he said. > ''You know, there are quiet times in the life of a nation when little is > expected of its leaders. This isn't one of those times. This is a time that > needs -- when we need firm resolve and clear vision and a deep faith in the > values that make us a great nation.'' > > The life of the nation and the life of Bush effortlessly merge -- his > fortitude, even in the face of doubters, is that of the nation; his > ordinariness, like theirs, is heroic; his resolve, to whatever end, will turn > the wheel of history. > > Remember, this is consent, informed by the heart and by the spirit. In the > end, Bush doesn't have to say he's ordained by God. After a day of speeches > by Hardy Billington and others, it goes without saying. > > ''To me, I just believe God controls everything, and God uses the president > to keep evil down, to see the darkness and protect this nation,'' Billington > told me, voicing an idea shared by millions of Bush supporters. ''Other > people will not protect us. God gives people choices to make. God gave us > this president to be the man to protect the nation at this time.'' > > But when the moment came in the V.I.P. tent to shake Bush's hand, Billington > remembered being reserved. '''I really thank God that you're the president' > was all I told him.'' Bush, he recalled, said, ''Thank you.'' > > ''He knew what I meant,'' Billington said. ''I believe he's an instrument of > God, but I have to be careful about what I say, you know, in public.'' > > Is there anyone in America who feels that John Kerry is an instrument of God? > > ''I'm going to be real positive, while I keep my foot on John Kerry's > throat,'' George W. Bush said last month at a confidential luncheon a block > away from the White House with a hundred or so of his most ardent, longtime > supporters, the so-called R.N.C. Regents. This was a high-rolling crowd -- at > one time or another, they had all given large contributions to Bush or the > Republican National Committee. Bush had known many of them for years, and a > number of them had visited him at the ranch. It was a long way from Poplar > Bluff. > > The Bush these supporters heard was a triumphal Bush, actively beginning to > plan his second term. It is a second term, should it come to pass, that will > alter American life in many ways, if predictions that Bush voiced at the > luncheon come true. > > He said emphatically that he expects the Republicans will gain seats to > expand their control of the House and the Senate. According to notes provided > to me, and according to several guests at the lunch who agreed to speak about > what they heard, he said that ''Osama bin Laden would like to overthrow the > Saudis . . . > > then we're in trouble. Because they have a weapon. They have the oil.'' He > said that there will be an opportunity to appoint a Supreme Court justice > shortly after his inauguration, and perhaps three more high-court vacancies > during his second term. > > ''Won't that be amazing?'' said Peter Stent, a rancher and conservationist > who attended the luncheon. ''Can you imagine? Four appointments!'' > > After his remarks, Bush opened it up for questions, and someone asked what > he's going to do about energy policy with worldwide oil reserves predicted to > peak. > > Bush said: ''I'm going to push nuclear energy, drilling in Alaska and clean > coal. Some nuclear-fusion technologies are interesting.'' He mentions energy > from ''processing corn.'' > > ''I'm going to bring all this up in the debate, and I'm going to push it,'' > he said, and then tried out a line. ''Do you realize that ANWR [the Arctic > National Wildlife Refuge] is the size of South Carolina, and where we want to > drill is the size of the Columbia airport?'' > > The questions came from many directions -- respectful, but clearly > reality-based. About the deficits, he said he'd ''spend whatever it takes to > protect our kids in Iraq,'' that ''homeland security cost more than I > originally thought.'' > > In response to a question, he talked about diversity, saying that ''hands > down,'' he has the most diverse senior staff in terms of both gender and > race. He recalled a meeting with Chancellor Gerhard Schröder of Germany. > ''You know, I'm sitting there with Schröder one day with Colin and Condi. And > I'm thinking: What's Schröder thinking?! He's sitting here with two blacks > and one's a woman.'' > > But as the hour passed, Bush kept coming back to the thing most on his mind: > his second term. > > ''I'm going to come out strong after my swearing in,'' Bush said, ''with > fundamental tax reform, tort reform, privatizing of Social Security.'' The > victories he expects in November, he said, will give us ''two years, at > least, until the next midterm. We have to move quickly, because after that > I'll be quacking like a duck.'' > > Joseph Gildenhorn, a top contributor who attended the luncheon and has been > invited to visit Bush at his ranch, said later: ''I've never seen the > president so ebullient. He was so confident. He feels so strongly he will > win.'' Yet one part of Bush's 60-odd-minute free-form riff gave Gildenhorn -- > a board member of the American Israel Public Affairs Committee and a former > ambassador to Switzerland -- a moment's pause. The president, listing > priorities for his second term, placed near the top of his agenda the > expansion of federal support for faith-based institutions. The president > talked at length about giving the initiative the full measure of his devotion > and said that questions about separation of church and state were not an > issue. > > Talk of the faith-based initiative, Gildenhorn said, makes him ''a little > uneasy.'' Many conservative evangelicals ''feel they have a direct line from > God,'' he said, and feel Bush is divinely chosen. > > ''I think he's religious, I think he's a born-again, I don't think, though, > that he feels that he's been ordained by God to serve the country.'' > Gildenhorn paused, then said, ''But you know, I really haven't discussed it > with him.'' > > A regent I spoke to later and who asked not to be identified told me: ''I'm > happy he's certain of victory and that he's ready to burst forth into his > second term, but it all makes me a little nervous. There are a lot of big > things that he's planning to do domestically, and who knows what countries we > might invade or what might happen in Iraq. But when it gets complex, he seems > to turn to prayer or God rather than digging in and thinking things through. > What's that line? -- the devil's in the details. If you don't go after that > devil, he'll come after you.'' > > Bush grew into one of history's most forceful leaders, his admirers will > attest, by replacing hesitation and reasonable doubt with faith and clarity. > Many more will surely tap this high-voltage connection of fervent faith and > bold action. In politics, the saying goes, anything that works must be > repeated until it is replaced by something better. The horizon seems clear of > competitors. > > Can the unfinished American experiment in self-governance -- sputtering on > the watery fuel of illusion and assertion -- deal with something as nuanced > as the subtleties of one man's faith? What, after all, is the nature of the > particular conversation the president feels he has with God -- a colloquy > upon which the world now precariously turns? > > That very issue is what Jim Wallis wishes he could sit and talk about with > George W. Bush. That's impossible now, he says. He is no longer invited to > the White House. > > ''Faith can cut in so many ways,'' he said. ''If you're penitent and not > triumphal, it can move us to repentance and accountability and help us reach > for something higher than ourselves. That can be a powerful thing, a thing > that moves us beyond politics as usual, like Martin Luther King did. But when > it's designed to certify our righteousness -- that can be a dangerous thing. > Then it pushes self-criticism aside. There's no reflection. > > ''Where people often get lost is on this very point,'' he said after a moment > of thought. ''Real faith, you see, leads us to deeper reflection and not -- > not ever -- to the thing we as humans so very much want.'' > > And what is that? > > ''Easy certainty.'' > > Ron Suskind was the senior national-affairs reporter for The Wall Street > Journal from 1993 to 2000. He is the author most recently of ''The Price of > Loyalty: George W. Bush, the White House and the Education of Paul O'Neill.'' Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company <http://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/17/magazine/17BUSH.html> -- D.F. Manno dfm2a3l0t2@spymac.com The average man doesn't want to be free. He simply wants to be safe. (H.L. Mencken)

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