Puffed-up politics

Donald Trump is not unique.

Thousands of commenters are treating him like a black swan, a once-in-a-century event—but the assumption that Trump is an extraplanetary egotist reflects historical amnesia and journalistic bias.

The election of James Monroe in 1816 brought in what some called “the era of good feelings.” Perhaps we had entered a political Eden where politicians bought into the Apostle Paul’s advice to the Philippians: “Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.”

That era ended quickly. In 1824 and 1828 John Quincy Adams battled Andrew Jackson, who had little political experience but the audacity to say he would be the better president. Jackson backers staged larger rallies in Pennsylvania and other swing states than did those favoring Adams or a third contender, Henry Clay, yet Adams and Clay (who became secretary of state) “stole” the 1824 election, according to Jackson.

During the next four years Jackson penned anti-Adams “memorandums” (Easterners spoofed his refusal to say “memoranda”) somewhat like the tweets of today, but long-winded. Jackson and his supporters, anticipating today’s “Lying Hillary” lines, attacked “Gamester” Clay, “the Judas of the West,” along with “His Excellency” Adams. Advocates for Adams fought back, calling Jackson uncouth and a racist killer of Indians. Jackson won in 1828.

In 1836 and 1840 William Henry Harrison became the first presidential nominee to go on campaign speaking tours. He mainly talked about his victory over Native Americans (at the Battle of Tippecanoe in 1811) and issued vague patriotic sentiments about how life would be great during his administration. Harrison lost his first race but won the second, as his vulgarian supporters spat tobacco juice and called President Martin Van Buren “a little squirt.”

After the Civil War, dominant Republicans tended to run “front porch campaigns” during which they ostentatiously showed humility by staying home, meeting only with visiting delegations of supporters, and (in 1884) calling Grover Cleveland “the Beast of Buffalo” because he had fathered a child out of wedlock. Republicans chanted, “Ma, Ma, where’s my Pa?” Democrats retorted regarding the Republican nominee, “Blaine, Blaine, continental liar from the state of Maine.” When Cleveland won, Democrats riposted the “Ma, Ma” mantra with “Gone to the White House, ha ha ha!”

Democratic nominee William Jennings Bryan in 1896 decided to be honest in his striving: In 50 days before the election he traveled 18,000 miles by train through 27 states and gave speeches at 600 stops along the way. Other Democrats attacked Bryan’s economic plans but also his character: The New York Times ran a headline, “Is Mr. Bryan Crazy?” He lost not only in 1896 but in 1900 and 1908 as well.

Some of the greatest presidents criticized unpopular foreigners. Theodore Roosevelt referred to Colombians as “homicidal corruptionists.” Woodrow Wilson took his giant ego on the road in 1912 and won reelection in 1916 on a “He kept us out of war” slogan. One month after his second inaugural Wilson led the United States into World War I. As direct primary elections began to replace smoke-filled rooms, candidates increasingly barnstormed around the country, saying—some elegantly and some not—“Vote for me.” But does anyone believe smooth operators such as Franklin Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy had smaller egos than uncouth Lyndon Johnson?

One barrier to self-striving remained: When tragedy struck, Mr. Smoothaways would say, “Our thoughts and prayers are with you,” even when they weren’t. Barack Obama said soon after the murder of five Dallas police officers in July, “Our focus is on the victims and their families”—but more of his words focused on gun control. He has responded to occasional criticism about his politicizing of tragedy by saying, “This is something we should politicize.”

So what should we make of Donald Trump’s notorious Aug. 27 tweet about Dwyane Wade’s cousin: “Just shot and killed walking her baby in Chicago. Just what I have been saying. African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP!” Only later came a condolence tweet: Family members are “in my thoughts and prayers.” So Trump doesn’t have filters, for better or often for worse—but should we believe that Hillary Clinton, who thought herself above the security regulations little people must follow, is less egotistic?

I’ve spent time with lots of political people ranging from Newt Gingrich to Arianna Huffington. Some get more style points than others, but almost all are egotists, and Clinton’s Sept. 9 comment that 20 percent of Americans are “deplorable” and even “irredeemable” is evidence of her haughtiness. But the bigger issue is this: Even if a President Hillary Clinton would say a few words about victims before politicizing their deaths, she is complicit in the killing of millions of unborn babies and will further the killing of millions more if she gets a chance.

Style is important—but content is more important. We can learn from defenders in basketball who ignore the trash talk of ballhandlers moving down the court: They watch the movement of hips, not lips.