For political dynasties in this country, good things come in twos. This means that two credible presidents (or presidential candidates) can emerge in one family, whether in one or in two generations, and from 8-28 years apart. Thus we have seen Presidents John and John Quincy Adams in 1796 and 1824; President John F. and candidate Robert F. Kennedy in 1960 and 1968; and Presidents George H.W. and George W. Bush in 1988 and in 2000 and 2004 (the younger George Bush being the one dynasty in history to be elected to and serve two full terms).
John Quincy’s son Charles Francis, an illustrious secretary of state in the Civil War era, was urged to run all his life but refused to do so, a model the Bushes and Kennedys would have done well to follow. That’s because when Jeb Bush and Ted Kennedy tried to play out the string for a third try at power, the results for themselves and their kin were not good.
Both launched their campaigns with fanfare and arrogance, as if announcing was tantamount to being elected, with large staffs, private planes fit for a national candidate and pockets of cash, mostly from donors to previous family members.
At the same time, they themselves had become incoherent, unable to respond to predictable questions or connect with the people at large. Ted, said his biographers, “seemed disoriented, off the track … unable to raise passions,” while Jim Geraghty said Jeb “seems out of sync and off tempo.” What the Washington Post said of Jeb’s campaign would apply to both efforts:
‘[D]ozens … described an overly optimistic, even haughty, exploratory operation. Strategic errors were exacerbated by unexpected stumbles by the … candidate and internal strife within his team.’
Robert Kennedy announced for president eight years after his brother, and George W. Bush launched his run for the White House eight years after the first Bush had vacated the premises. By contrast, Ted Kennedy ran 20 years after his brother’s election, and Jeb had announced 15 years after his brother’s election, 28 years after his father’s election, and 36 years after his father became the vice president. That’s a very long time to live in the bubble surrounding a president’s family, and the insulation was evident. There were too many layers of advisors and hangers-on, too many courtiers to treat them as royalty, too many who longed for a return to power, riding, of course, on their backs.
The desire to run had become the obligation to do so. “Each third guy seems to have felt an enormous pressure to run,” says Richard Brookhiser, “to satisfy his family, to satisfy his sense of himself with his family. And each third guy resented it … inside each we heard a small voice saying, No mas.”
Students of dynasties know that most fall apart in the third generation, when the children of the founders and consolidators turn into dilettantes, lacking the struggles that turn boys into men. It’s unfair to say this of Jeb and Ted Kennedy, as they worked hard in the Senate and state house (and were very good at doing it). But when they ran for the White House, their sense of entitlement and their annoyance when thwarted appeared to roll off them in waves. Many people seem rightly concerned about the prospect of ongoing dynasty politics, but the laws of physics as regards human nature seem to work to forestall this possibility. When it comes to the White House, the third time’s not the charm.
Noemie Emery, a Washington Examiner columnist, is a contributing editor to The Weekly Standard and author of “Great Expectations: The Troubled Lives of Political Families.”
