The Men Who Led

The Men Who Led Theodore Roosevelt He was born gasping for breath and died in his sleep as the most consequential president between Lincoln and Franklin Roosevelt. In the sixty years between, Theodore Roosevelt remade himself, his office, and his country, by force of will, by force of argument, and when necessary, by force. This is the full biography of that life: the sickly boy who built his body in a Midtown gymnasium; the Harvard naturalist who found himself in the Dakota Badlands; the Civil Service reformer and midnight-street policeman; the soldier who charged a fortified hill on horseback; the president who broke the trusts, saved the forests, mediated a world war, and expanded the American executive into the instrument of governance the twentieth century required. And the private man behind every public act: the son of a beloved father, the widower at twenty-five, the devoted husband, the father of six, the writer of thirty-five books who dictated his final editorial the day before his heart gave out. It is also the biography of his failures. The Brownsville affair. The racial accommodations that qualified the Square Deal’s own promise of equal treatment. The friendship with Taft that broke into a bitterness that split a party and handed a presidency to a Democrat. The Amazon expedition that took fifty-seven pounds and the full use of his leg and never gave them back. The son buried in French soil under a wing of his own aircraft, at twenty years old, on Bastille Day. Theodore Roosevelt cannot be simplified. He was the great conservationist who killed eleven thousand African specimens. The trust-buster who was saved by J. P. Morgan. The Nobel Peace Prize laureate who announced that America would police the Western Hemisphere. The man who charged every hill he ever faced except the one that mattered most. To engage honestly with this life is to practise the form of thinking that serious engagement with any serious subject requires: holding achievement and failure in the same frame, admiring without idolising, learning from both the triumph and the cost. What he built was the foundational principle of modern American governance, that the democratic republic has both the authority and the obligation to protect the many against the few. What he demonstrated was that the distance between what is and what ought to be is traversable, by a person with sufficient will, even against the most powerful opposition the Gilded Age could assemble. The effort was extraordinary. The effort, in the end, was enough.