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JA: Four
things. First, how close we came to dictatorship in 1933. I had no
idea that the word actually had a positive connotation then. William
Randolph Hearst even made a movie (starring Anjelica Huston's grandfather)
instructing FDR in how to be a "good" dictator. Second,
that the New Deal was much more seat-of-the-pants than I learned
in school. Third, just how awful things were at the very bottom of
the Depression, when the financial system of the United States was
cratering. If you happened to put your money in one of the 10,000
banks that closed, you were finished. There was a lot more to fear
than "fear itself." Fourth, that Eleanor was deeply depressed
about becoming first lady and was schooled in how to be an effective
one by her close friend Lorena Hickok.
BM: Like
the undiscovered "dictator talk" you uncovered in researching
this book, how many other undiscovered primary sources do you think
are waiting for future scholars?
JA: The
historian James McGregor Burns told me five years ago when I began
my research that I would find new stuff, and he was right. The
files at the Roosevelt Library are so large that researchers
are finding new things all the time. The challenge is to take the
research and turn it into a compelling narrative. One tip:
Short chapters.
BM: How
did your research change any preconceived ideas you had about FDR?
JA: I
knew vaguely that he had been a snob as a young man and was deceptive
with Lend-Lease, but I had no idea of some of the hair-splitting
word games he used to get nominated for president on the fourth
ballot in 1932. I used to think great presidents were above politics,
but I now realize that the great ones are all masters of the
game, even when that game is more colorful than attractive.
BM: How
closely scripted were Roosevelt's fireside chats?
JA: They
were all scripted. There's considerable dispute about the authorship
of the first fireside chat, to which I devote a chapter. But I
believe FDR when he said that he saw a workman taking down
the scaffolding from his inauguration and decided to write a radio
address that he could understand. That first one, on March 12,
1933, revolutionized communications. FDR did for speaking
what Bing Crosby did for singing—he addressed the audience
as individuals instead of a crowd for arguably the first time
in human history. Every effective communicator since has sounded
conversational, even when scripted. Roosevelt was a brilliant actor
in the theater of the presidency.
BM: Did
the public hatred of Roosevelt ever reach the level of the
hatred of Bush today?
JA: No,
FDR remained highly popular with a majority of citizens for the
12 years he served. But a vocal minority—mostly wealthy Americans
whose fortunes FDR had ironically saved in 1933—were bitterly
critical. Because they owned the newspapers, the tone of the
criticism was often more vicious than what we hear today.
BM: Did
history make the man or did the man make history?
JA: Both.
I make the point that it was the perfect meeting of man and moment.
But I also argue that if the assassin who got off five shots
at FDR from 25 feet away two weeks before he was sworn-in had killed
Roosevelt, we would be living in a very different country today. At
the same time, if FDR had been president in the more placid 1920s,
I don't think he would have been seen as important or successful.
So great presidents require perilous times, but it doesn't necessarily
follow that perilous times (like our own) automatically make great
presidents. I also argue that FDR's personal history—particularly
his polio—helped prepare him for greatness. His actions at
Warm Springs served as a dress rehearsal for the early presidency,
where he restored the hope of polio victims, though neither he
nor they would ever walk again. The same thing happened with Americans
paralyzed with fear and hopelessness in 1933.
BM: Do
you have any ideas about why American history seems to regard FDR
as such an idealist when in fact he was a consummate politician?
JA: We
tend to marble-ize our heroes. I find it much more interesting
to see how they maneuvered and manipulated. Before becoming president,
FDR was a huge flip-flopper. He was for the League of Nations before
he was against it; neither a "dry" nor a "wet" on
Prohibition but a "damp." As president he moved left
and right at once, launching liberal programs that planted
3 billion trees and gave you many of the roads you drive on today,
but he also adopted the conservative Hoover bank rescue plan (instead
of nationalizing the banks or, horrors, turning them over to the
Post Office, as his Brain Trust wanted) and cut the budget by 30
percent during his first 100 days. He was the consummate pragmatist,
who believed in "bold, persistent experimentation" (A
line written by a reporter). But he also had a vision of a new
social contract under which the government felt obligated to respond
when people are in trouble. That was a permanent change, and thus
a truly "defining moment" for modern society. So today,
while we debate whether President Bush responded quickly enough
to Hurricane Katrina, no one argues that the government shouldn't
respond at all when people are starving or drowning. Before FDR,
most politicians would have said: "Sad, but none of our business
if Americans are hurting."
BM: Could
Roosevelt have succeeded in cultivating the same image in today's
climate that allows such close scrutiny of health and intimate
friendships?
JA: I believe
so. His polio was never a secret, but the extent of his disability
(that it left him confined to a wheelchair) was. Today, he'd go
on Oprah and discuss everything and because the subject is less
taboo, I think he'd be fine. His relationships would have received
more scrutiny, but his affair with Lucy Mercer was 15 years before
the presidency and would not likely have been dredged up, in part
because it was a secret even within the family. The sleeping arrangements
at the White House might have leaked out earlier, but he also might
have adjusted them rather than risk exposure. His role during World
War I while Assistant Navy Secretary in authorizing an undercover
sting operation against homosexuals at the base in Newport
(which led to sex acts being performed) would definitely have received
more scrutiny today, though it was on the front page of the New
York Times shortly before he contracted polio in 1921.
BM: What
do you think are the most important qualities of FDR's presidency?
JA: One,
his legendary "first-class temperament," which gave an
optimistic and hopeful tint to his presidency. Two, his insatiable
intellectual curiosity, though he was hardly an intellectual himself.
Three, his insistence, in most cases, in putting performance ahead
of loyalty instead of loyalty ahead of performance. Four, his accessibility
to the press (he held two press conferences a week), not because
he liked reporters but because it helped him get his message out.
Five, his recognition that passing a law or issuing an order was
only the beginning of being effective—that a good president
must knock heads together in the bureaucracy, get his hands dirty
on at least some issues and be willing to make mid-course corrections
(Here, Eleanor, as his "eyes and ears," was extremely important
in helping him fix things), because accountability is good not just
for the country but for the president himself. Six, his bias for
action (a word he used five times in his first Inaugural). Americans
do not demand that their president solve all problems, but they
insist that he try. |