
Matt Sayles / AP
When
it comes to "volcanic" tempers--and we mean that literally--John McCain
is apparently no match for Steve Schmidt, his new campaign guru. McCain yells. McCain curses. McCain occasionally gets in scuffles. But McCain, unlike Schmidt, does not (ahem) lose bodily fluids. According to a lengthy profile published in yesterday's Wall Street Journal,
when Schmidt--nicknamed "Bullet" for his burly build and bald
pate--gets really angry, his nose begins to bleed. (Schmidt denies the
diagnosis.) "The nostrils would flare, he would get
very red-faced... and you would just want to quit," a colleague from
President Bush's 2004 war room told the paper. "You basically wanted to
crash a chair
over his head." Those who have worked with Schmidt before say that Team
McCain "should steel itself," the Journal reports. Investing in Kleenex
might be wise as well.
On the presidential campaign trail, temper
tantrums are nothing new. The toxic cocktail of long hours, grueling
travel, massive egos and constant public scrutiny is enough to send
even the calmest operative over the edge on occasion. But McCain's
recent decision to substitute the snappish Schmidt for campaign manager
Rick Davis--the formal, even-keeled moneyman who engineered his
miraculous primary-season comeback--raises an interesting question.
What's the relationship between rage and electoral results--if any?
Over the past three decades, an army of presidential Svengali's have
made anger a defining feature of their professional personae, wielding
it, like Schmidt, as a tool of management. Others, of course, haven't.
A quick look at the history books reveals that the latter group may
have been more successful in steering their bosses to victory.
Take John Weaver, for example. A lanky, brooding, volatile Texan, Weaver convinced the
McCain to challenge George W. Bush for the Republican
nomination in 2000--and, as top strategist, lovingly oversaw every
aspect of that year's "maverick" campaign.
Weaver wasn't exactly placid. In fact, his outbursts were so frequent
that staffers gave them a name: "W.O.W. moments," for Wrath of Weaver.
He signature move? Throwing things. Pagers. A coffee table. A
television. By New Hampshire, Weaver had sent at least two baseballs
through office walls and smashed three Nokia cell phones. "I was
actually hit by some of the shrapnel," Jim Merrill,
McCain's South Carolina director, said at the time. As Dana Milbank
wrote in the Washington Post, "Weaver uses his volatile temper to
motivate his staff. If anybody is
late for the morning meeting, he orders the next day's held half an
hour earlier... Before a telephone tirade, he'll tell people around him
to 'watch this.'" McCain, of course, lost the nomination.
Then there's Jimmy Carter. In 1976, Carter entrusted
his electoral fortunes to a disheveled Southern operative named
Hamilton Jordan, who devised the smart strategy of using the Iowa
caucuses to lift the Georgia governor out of obscurity. He was known
for "his extraordinary reticence." When truly angry, Jordan didn't lose
his temper, but withdrew, physically or mentally. "No one who has
covered a Southern courthouse could mistake the look on
Jordan's face when he doesn't want to answer: chin uplifted slightly,
eyes hooded," wrote the Washington Post. "It's not quite defensive, but
it expresses an old Southern
notion that power is best exercised quietly, and that only a fool talks
about what he's going to do before he's done it." Four years later,
however, pollster Pat Caddell--an Irish-American with a legendary
temper--had a stronger hold on the reins. "Stories are told, over and
over, by veterans
of past campaigns: of screaming fights ending with a standard refrain
of 'I'll ruin you!' or 'You're finished!,'" wrote the Post. "Of
intimidating calls, doors
slamming shut, phones slamming down. 'He scars you,' says one recipient
of the Caddell Treatment." Carter went on to
lose the 1980 election to Ronald Reagan, and Caddell went on to guide
Gary Hart, Walter Mondale and Joe Biden to defeat.
I don't mean to blame these losses on Caddell's shouting or Weaver's throwing--or Bill Clinton's red-faced meddlingin
this year's primary contest, for that matter. Not at all. Elections
are decided by the voters, not the gurus--and there have been too many
exceptions (like, say, James "The Ragin' Cajun" Carville in 1992) to
impose some sort of rule. That said, the tone at the top can affect
(and/or infect) the larger operation--perhaps by breeding resentment,
which breeds defiance, which breeds inefficiency--and in recent
elections, it
seems, a "cooler" management style has prevailed off more often than
not. Lee Atwater and Karl Rove--who ran George H.W. Bush's and George
W. Bush's successful presidential campaigns--were known as nasty
partisan pugilists well-practiced in dirty trickery. But they rarely
blew up behind the scenes. The consultant who piloted the DOA John
Kerry to the 2004 Democratic nomination, Mary Beth Cahill, was
described at the time as "no small talk, no face time, no sucking up to
the candidate, none of those operative-style temper tantrums, no
passive aggression, no waste"--even if the "Shrum Curse" ultimately prevailed. And Ronald Reagan's people weren't especially piqued.
Will
history repeat itself in 2008? This year, Barack Obama appears to be
the candidate poised to prosper from in-house equanimity. The senator
himself brags
that he has "the right temperament for
the presidency"-- not "too high and not "too low"--while David Plouffe,
his low-key, geeky campaign manager, and David Axelrod, his soft-spoken
strategist, have run his bid like it was a "private corporation." "Mr. Obama’s circle of advisers takes seriously his “no drama” mandate," writes the New York Times.
"It is a point of pride in his campaign that
there have been virtually no serious leaks to the news media... about
internal division or
infighting." So far this approach has worked wonders for the nominee,
who came from nowhere in the Democratic primaries to defeat the party's
most powerful machine and now leads in November's polls. Going forward,
Schmidt job is to prove that rage can get results. If he can't, blood
won't be the only thing he stands to lose.