He’s not the first. Clinton, who reads biographies of even his most obscure predecessors, may have an eye on how they tried to fight back. Even our most troubled presidents have moments of glory, and the engines of ambition that propelled them to the top in the first place aren’t easily shut off. For the rest of us, post-presidential maneuvering illustrates just how driven the men we elect to the highest office are–and remain.
Some have jumped back into the arena. John Quincy Adams, whose White House tenure was largely unproductive, spent 17 years in the House, dying at his desk in the Capitol. Martin Van Buren sought the presidency again; so did Millard Fillmore, U.S. Grant and (successfully) Grover Cleveland. And after his acquittal by the Senate, Andrew Johnson ran for the Democratic nomination because it would mean ““a vindication such as no man had ever received’’–but he lost. Johnson moved back to Tennessee and was elected to the U.S. Senate. He died after only a few months; his coffin pillow was a copy of the Constitution. Others fought to the grave, too. Herbert Hoover tried to wash off the stain of the Depression with commissions on government reorganization; at 85, Hoover, still seeking vindication, traveled 14,000 miles, delivered 20 speeches, accepted 23 awards and answered 21,000 letters. Richard Nixon cast himself as a geopolitical sage, hosting intimate dinners with journalists and writing foreign-policy tomes.
Clinton’s best role model may be a fellow Southerner. After 1980 Jimmy Carter succumbed to a spell of depression, exacerbated by his bleak financial situation. But with spirits restored, Carter found it impossible to settle into the role of gentleman farmer in Plains, Ga. He decided to make good use of his connections and concern for human rights. He’s the icon of Habitat for Humanity, and his conflict-resolution efforts earned him a reputation as a ““one-man mini U.N.’’ (though his detractors claim his good works are motivated by lust in his heart for a Nobel Peace Prize). For Clinton, there will no doubt be plenty of golf, and pricey speeches to pay off his debts. But the Muse of History is likely to be Bill Clinton’s final seduction.
