Reagan's humour masked contradictory record

Reagan's use of the English language, like George Bush's, made us uneasy. Publicly calling the leadership of Poland "a bunch of low-down bums" hardly seemed presidential.
How could the US voters support President Ray-Gun, we asked.

I first understood the magical connection Reagan had over Americans when I was sitting in an airport lounge in Los Angeles.

The president was in political trouble. Republican leaders, senators, one after another were interviewed on television saying there was no communication with the White House. Worse than Nixon, said one Republican grandee. No consultation, no communication, the White House is out of touch, said another.

Then Reagan appeared on the screen, walking towards a helicopter on the White House lawn. The assembled media shouted out questions, but Reagan had a habit of cupping a hand over an ear and shaking his head, not hearing awkward questions.

Then a journalist shouted, "Republican leaders say there is no communication."

Reagan turned, smiled, and replied, "No communication? Well, nobody told me."

The airport lounge burst with laughter, cheering, and clapping. It could not have been better scripted.

Humour is a real test of intelligence, style and character. When the media ran story after story about how Reagan had afternoon naps and was not on top of the detail, and even forgot the name of one of his cabinet secretaries, he turned this to advantage, saying, "I have instructed our intelligence and security people to wake me at any time there is a crisis.

"No matter what time of the day, even if I'm asleep, and that includes cabinet meetings."

Reagan was, he said, a full-time president and was prepared to work into the wee hours of the afternoon, saying, "They say hard work never hurt anyone, but I figure, why take the chance?"

After president Jimmy Carter, who micromanaged down to who could use the White House tennis courts, here was a man who saw things in black and white, only the big picture.

The elitist media were also dismissive of president Franklin D. Roosevelt's capacity to change his mind day to day, and his lack of consistency, and the struggle he had with details.

Sarcastically, it was said of FDR, second-class intellect, first-class temperament. Perhaps temperament is more important - leaders can buy or rent specialists.

Everyone agrees that the smartest defence secretary was Robert McNamara, who earlier ran General Motors. Others say Donald Rumsfeld, the present Secretary of Defence, is smarter.

Judgement is another thing. IQ is one thing; EQ - emotional intelligence - another. Management experts now argue EQ is more important than IQ in leadership.

Ronald Reagan had a big idea. Communism was evil, it could be beaten, and the oppressed people of central and eastern Europe wanted freedom.

He was correct, and his adoption of the big idea of Star Wars - an impossibly expensive and technically doubtful plan to wage war from outer space - prompted an arms race that broke the back of the Soviet economy. He was then able to negotiate arms limitation treaties that would have politically crippled a pro-peace president.

Franklin D. Roosevelt was called the happy warrior. His campaign song during the Depression was "Happy Days are Here Again". Roosevelt said the only fear we face is fear itself.

Elected on a promise to balance the books and keep out of foreign entanglements (a phrase invented by George Washington), FDR reversed his positions and carried the people with him.

Roosevelt's great speeches and fireside talks, using radio as a weapon, were a political first. He was the caring uncle.

Reagan also talked of balanced budgets, but tripled the national debt. He campaigned on smaller government, but increased the size of the federal government.

He brought inflation down from 13per cent to 5per cent, but unemployment grew to 12per cent.

Reagan's views, not the reality of his policies, dominated the debate, leaving it to the Democratic president Bill Clinton to savage welfare and declare the age of big government over.

Reagan, we now discover, wrote many of his own best lines and speeches. His original notes stand scrutiny. His handwritten note to the American people explaining his withdrawal from public life because of Alzheimer's disease will go down as one of the great letters of our age.

Reagan's enduring legacy is one of optimism, lifting American spirits out of what Jimmy Carter called a malaise, and countering it with the suggestion that America's best days were yet to come - campaigning and being elected on the slogan "It's morning in America".