It practically goes without saying at this point that we are currently living through an extraordinary period in world history. Every few days, it seems, some new, unprecedented, polarizing event unfolds. And it can be difficult to handle that. A common refrain that I hear from my classmates (and myself) is that we want things back “the way they were,” back in a world where policy debate rather than partisan debacles defined our national political discourse. We want a government that can unify us, a sense of goodwill and common understanding between citizens, and we feel as though we want those things back, as though they were wrenched from our grasp by evil forces beyond our comprehension.
A couple of months ago, as I was indulging in a recent book-buying spree at a book barn, Doris Kearns Goodwin’s 2005 book “Team of Rivals” caught my eye. I had heard great things about the book, particularly that its commentary on the inner workings of a presidential Cabinet comes off as particularly prescient today. Goodwin is a renowned historian who has been particularly lauded for her presidential biographies. She worked for President Lyndon B. Johnson’s administration and later helped him write his memoirs while teaching classes on government at Harvard for 10 years. Ever since, she has been churning out books and working on projects with a particular focus on presidential history, of which “Team of Rivals” is best known.
In reading “Team of Rivals” over the past few weeks, I was treated to a unique perspective on a political situation somewhat comparable to our own – and bear with me on this – the political atmosphere prior to, during, and immediately following the Civil War. Her masterful text first charts the path of Abraham Lincoln to winning the 1860 Republican presidential nomination in a stunning upset against several better established candidates before demonstrating how Lincoln’s choice to befriend and appoint to his Cabinet those rivals served him well over the course of his presidency. Through Lincoln’s story, and the innovative way in which Goodwin communicates it, perhaps we might learn from that most divisive time in our shared American history.
Abraham Lincoln gained his party’s trust and nomination through shrewd political maneuvering, positioning himself as a centrist candidate at a time when the Republican party – and the North – was composed of myriad factions, from the anti-immigrant Know Nothings and the conservative Democratic defectors to the staunch abolitionists and the more liberal former Whigs. When the popular yet outspoken Whig William Seward failed to capture a sufficient level of support within the party and neither the abolitionist Salmon Chase nor the more conservative Judge Edward Bates was able to coalesce enough support to challenge Seward, Lincoln managed to position himself as the “second choice” of party members who feared their preferred candidate was doomed. Indeed, he was able to siphon off support from all three of his competitors and win the nomination.
What I just summarized in the preceding paragraph Goodwin takes hundreds of pages to communicate as she crafts an involute yet comprehensive narrative of the events of that 1860 convention. Her book alternates perspectives between each of the four men, demonstrating step by step how the titular “rivals” made political blunders – the most egregious one being the reluctance of the candidates to campaign because of their belief that their status within the party made them a guaranteed shoe-in for the nomination – while Lincoln assembled a team to actively campaign alongside him. She writes with clear authority on events and is able to convincingly present causes and effects for particular events down to the minutest details, deftly informing the reader how one piece of correspondence or conversation between Lincoln and a confidante influenced a decision.
Her attention to detail humanizes the figures she writes about, making them feel almost like characters in a novel with their own unique, discernible motivations. The reader is able to connect with, for example, the socially awkward yet ambitious Governor of Ohio-turned Secretary of Treasure Salmon Chase when, as a young man, he relates in a letter that he is considering changing his first name to sound less “fishy.” Later, in summing up why Lincoln was able to establish himself as a viable candidate at the Convention, Goodwin writes that “he did not allow his quest for office to consume the kindness and openheartedness with which he treated supporters and rivals alike, nor alter his steady commitment to antislavery cause.” Whether through humorous anecdotes, revealing letters to spouses or family, or simple conclusions of character drawn from actions, these historical figures are laid bare, their human motivations made more apparent.
As the narrative of Lincoln’s long-shot yet successful bid for the nomination as a moderate took shape, I could not help drawing parallels to Democratic candidate Joe Biden’s approach to the primaries. Like Lincoln, Biden positioned himself as a solid moderate candidate, ideologically flanked both on the left and right. And while he initially trailed in the polls by a significant margin leading up to and during the first few primaries and caucuses, he was able to win over supporters of candidates who were unable to sustain themselves, namely Chase, Seward, and Bates, in such a crowded field. Goodwin’s thesis on the key to Lincoln’s political success in that moment – that a trailing candidate who endeavors to be a “second choice” stands a chance of creating a coalition – holds water.
But the events of the primary season have come and gone, and we are now anticipating a Biden presidency. As Biden has just finished preparing his Cabinet and is likely planning his first moves upon assuming the office, what lessons does Goodwin’s history have for us?
Whereas Goodwin focuses on the four competitors for the Republican nomination in the first half of the book, the second half shifts to focus heavily on the assembling of the Cabinet and the resulting relationships within it. From a storytelling perspective, this shift in angle brings home the text’s key underlying idea – that Lincoln’s choice to put an intellectually diverse group of thinkers in his Cabinet was wise and served him well during the war. Goodwin continues to captivate the reader by unpacking the events of Lincoln’s administration, crisis by crisis, showing how the discord within the president’s Cabinet gave him a tool by which to comprehend all sides of an issue.
As Goodwin relates to us, Lincoln’s Cabinet’s members were collectively seen by many, including members of Lincoln’s party and members of the Cabinet itself, as an ineffective group, particularly compared to Cabinets of past presidents who were filled with individuals fully loyal to that president. “A less confident man might have surrounded himself with personal supporters who would never question his authority,” she writes. “James Buchanan, for example, had deliberately chosen men who thought as he did.”
But the true genius on Lincoln’s part came from his respect for his Cabinet’s insight and ability yet his simultaneous willingness to disregard his Cabinet’s collective wishes if and when he deemed doing so to be the proper and urgent course of action, such as in his decision to draft the Emancipation Proclamation. Goodwin sheds light on how Lincoln was initially opposed by almost every member of his Cabinet in his desire to pen it, even the abolitionist, Salmon Chase. Quoting Lincoln’s words at a pivotal Cabinet meeting, she writes that “he understood the ‘differences in the Cabinet on the slavery question’ and welcomed their suggestions after they heard what he had to say; but he wanted them to know that he ‘had resolved upon this step, and had not called them together to ask their advice.” The suggestions of his reticent Cabinet who acknowledged Lincoln’s determination ensured the document’s success, particularly through Secretary of State Seward’s suggestions of implying that the Proclamation would remain valid even after Lincoln’s presidency and waiting to unleash the document until a politically opportune moment – namely, a victory in battle – arose. Because of Lincoln’s resolve and wise choices in drafting and releasing it, as well his Cabinet members’ ultimate support of the Proclamation on the grounds of its moral and tactical necessity, the document was generally well-received by the public.
As Goodwin relates such tales of intrigue, the reader is faced time and time again by the fact that political maneuvering must frequently take precedence over the deployment of important policy. That reality can be a difficult one to live with, particularly today, when our Senate has been woefully gridlocked for decades and many Americans feel overlooked by their politicians. Yet Goodwin, and Lincoln, demonstrate the positives of that reality under good leadership. Even as Goodwin presents evidence of individuals behaving for the sake of their own political longevity rather than engaging in the moral crusade that the time seemed to have demanded, there remains a sense in her storytelling of a redeemable quality to that behavior: namely, that it is better for a government to have to deal with the whims of an electorate and to be a democracy than for a government to behave unilaterally and with no input from the populace.
While Lincoln never got to oversee Reconstruction because of his untimely assassination, he was still able to rebuild a nation that imploded upon itself shortly following his election. And he did so by delicately balancing the whims of the many political factions that comprised what remained of the Union. One can only hope that President-Elect Biden may learn from the political lessons that Goodwin and Lincoln have to share – that he will rise to the occasion of the divided world we live in and govern in a way that sincerely works to unify.
In Biden’s Cabinet selections, we have already seen such an attempt to build a broad coalition. His nomination of the very centrist Merrick Garland for Attorney General juxtaposed with, say, the progressive Deb Haaland for Secretary of the Interior demonstrates this. Perhaps Biden is taking a leaf out of his old boss and former President Barack Obama’s book, who purposely nominated his rival for the Democratic presidential nominee, Hillary Clinton, to be Secretary of State, a decision he was directly inspired to make after reading “Team of Rivals.”
But Biden’s faction-balancing will need to be broader and deeper than Obama’s appointment of Clinton. He is coming to power just weeks after hundreds of Americans who voted against him in November’s election stormed and desecrated the Capitol Building. The rifts between Americans seem almost insurmountable. And so we need a leader with the sort of political prowess that Goodwin demonstrates Lincoln as having possessed, a leader who can do what might in this moment of uncertainty seem impossible: make the American people truly believe his message of unity. And the key to doing that, whether in the President-Elect’s Cabinet or in the Senate, will undoubtedly be establishing an effective team of rivals.
