to the top; Roosevelt and Kennedy, driven by ambitious and
powerful parents, worldly but conventional, remaking them-
selves and their worlds.
Being self-made is, of course, not all of it. Lyndon Johnson,
Richard Nixon, and Jimmy Carter could be described as self-
made men, but they failed to win our hearts or engage our
minds, and finally failed as national leaders.
All three were highly competent, but their ambitions over-
rode their talent. Johnson set out to make a Great Society, but
made a bad war instead. Nixon wanted less to lead us than to
rule us. It was never clear what Carter wanted, besides the
White House. In each case, their minds seemed to be closed—
to us, at least, and perhaps to themselves as well. Whatever vi-
sion each may have had went unexpressed (or in Johnson’s case
unfulfilled). Each was given to saying one thing and doing
another, and each seemed to look on the American people as
adversaries. When we questioned the Vietnam War, Johnson
questioned our loyalty. Nixon had an enemies list. And Carter
accused us of malingering.
As presidents, Johnson, Nixon, and Carter were all more
driven than driving, and each seemed trapped in his own
shadows. They were haunted men, shaped more by their early
deprivations than by their later successes. They did not, then,
invent themselves. They were made—and unmade—by their
own histories.
When Henry Kissinger was asked what he had learned
from the presidents he had worked with—a list that started
with Kennedy, through whom he met Truman—Kissinger
replied, “Presidents don’t do great things by dwelling on their
limitations, but by focusing on their possibilities.” They leave
the past behind them and turn toward the future.
Understanding the Basics