What Makes A Good Politician - Patriotism, Honor...Wait, That's Not Right! A Tale Of Political Divinity

Harlan Evans had always been a popular boy.  Girls loved him and boys wanted to be like him. He wasn't particularly handsome, intelligent, or athletic, and yet he was always prom king, president of his class, and chosen the most likely to succeed.  

Harlan had two qualities which made him irresistible - a silver tongue and empathy.  When Harlan listened to you, you felt like you were the only person in the world who mattered, and what he said was the most sensitively chosen, perfectly attuned expression of his understanding, his intentions, and his charm. 

No one could resist him. Young men took him into their confidence as though he were a father confessor, and women felt so respected, admired, and valued that they fell for him head over heels.  And this was even before he graduated from high school. 

Fitzgerald said it best about Gatsby and he could have been writing about Harlan Evans:

He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.

 

'You've got a great career ahead of you', said the dean of students who had followed Harlan during his years under his watch.  There was something successful about the boy.  The dean couldn't quite put his finger on it it, but he too was charmed by the boy's interest, patience, and uncommon empathy.  These qualities more than intelligence, intellect, or insight would carry him far. 

As his popularity grew - he was no less sought after and admired in college as he was in secondary school - he came to realize how easy it was to get whatever he wanted with very little effort.  Professors loved his interest in their lectures and graded him far above the quality of his work.  Roommates were generous and affectionate.  He became a member of the university's most prestigious secret society reserved for the best, the brightest, the most well-bred, and the most likely to succeed. 

A strong moral foundation is built through adversity.  Moral choice - doing the right thing - is often difficult and must be parsed a thousand different ways and in the end, whatever the individual chooses, the individual is stronger, more respected, and more responsible. 

Harlan had never had to face such dilemmas in his life.  He had always done what suited him, but did it in a way that eased him through any narrow passages or across rough patches with hardly a notice.  His genial, accommodating, patient ways were tickets to ride free.  He had no moral foundation, no centralizing, ordering ethos, no set of principles. 

This lack of a moral center did not make him immoral.  Far from it.  His easy social success was made possible by never stumbling into the wrong corner, offending someone, stepping on toes, or pushing his way to the front of the line. 

People made way for him, granted him passage, deferred to him, and happily watched him go.  He was successful because he was always on an even keel.  He never ruffled feathers or gave people pause.  Everyone thought that he had their interests at heart, not his.  He, in their opinion, was one of the most generous and considerate people they had ever met. 

The Congressman from his electoral district had heard of this remarkable young man and was anxious to meet him, perhaps invite him to Washington to work on his campaign. The Congressman was as charmed as everyone who had met the young man and with his canny, practiced, and insightful political instincts knew that Harlan was the real item.  He and the people of his district would be proud to have such a promising talent in Washington. 

 

Harlan's political independence at first worried the Congressman.  Independents were notoriously untrustworthy, wavering souls and indifferent soldiers; but Harlan in his typical, ingenuous, patient, and empathetic way easily convinced the Congressman that loyalty was more important than principle in life; and that he would be an unwavering and unerring supporter of whatever policies the Congressman supported. 

Now, Congress is filled with many who believe that a sucker is born every minute, and that you can fool most of the people most of the time, but they get coopted into rabid party politics.  Take the ranking member of one of the House's most influential committees, a man who had won election thanks to a silver tongue and a gracious complaisance; but whose power and authority went to his head and he became a party enforcer, a man of limited vision, spiteful personality, and downright meanness.  He was feared, but the days of being liked were far in the past. 

Partisan politics and the viral instincts therein were a kind of euphoric drug for the ranking member.  He saw himself as a gladiator not a conciliator; a killer rather than healer.  He had reason to the top of the heap and would remain there by hook or by crook. 

The ranking member was nonplussed when he met Harlan. Who was this underling sent to him by his colleague from an unimportant, insignificant Midwestern district?  Yet after only a few minutes with the young man in his chambers, the Congressman had lost all of his military huffiness, his rigid bearing, and his grimace.  There was something likeable about the young man he could not quite define - something attentive, personal, even intimate.  This was not the way politicians were supposed to behave.  One was always on one's guard, watching one's back, and ready to parry and riposte. 

Harlan had been sent into this den by his patron who by then had understood the almost magical effect his young protege had on people; and since favors were needed from the ranking member, why not send in Harlan as an advance team of one?  His simple charm would soften the old man up and make compromise easy. 

The ranking member was so taken by the young man - he could not deny desire - that he approached Harlan's mentor if he might be available for a transfer.  The ranking member would be very appreciative, this an unmistakable offering that his colleague could not refuse. 

From the hems of power to power itself, that was the story of Harlan Evans whose service to the ranking member, his natural political camaraderie, and his instinctive ability to create communities of which he was the center, enabled his rise to electoral victory. 

He was found a comfortable seat in a district not far from his own, was sent out on the hustings, and not surprisingly won a convincing victory.  His policies? They were unnecessary.  His promises and his genuine commitment to fulfilling them was enough. This bait-and-switch was the stock in trade of politicians, but the electorate was usually on to them and demanded more substance, proof, and results. 

Not so with Harlan.  He was treated more like a divinity than a politician.  His words were never inflammatory, accusatory, or untimely.  He spoke in measured, simple, and heartfelt tones.  He was believable, as simple as that; and he joined his fellow representatives in the House with a policy chest as empty as it was before the election.  If there was ever a Representative with such high approval ratings and so devoid of ideas, it was Harlan Evans. 

Of course, he could talk a good talk, and wove personal anecdotes with homey philosophical tales, all embroidered with fancy stitching, but he never boxed himself in, never once betrayed that inimitable ability to say nothing and be believed. 

There were those in Congress who had caught on to this chimera and challenged Harlan to fess up, to admit his shell game and to come clean; but such was Harlan's savvy and confidence that he welcomed these naysayers into his chambers, treated them as royalty, made them feel welcome, wanted, and admired, and walked out with them, embracing and smiling. 

Harlan was a secret admirer of Jesus - secret because he kept any intimations of faith to himself, and because he had none - because Jesus in life and in death was able to win over millions of believers on the basis of promises alone.  If there was ever a man with more natural charm, seductive influence, and the ability to turn the most recalcitrant apostate to him, it was Jesus Christ. 

'Mustn't let that go to my head', Harlan said, smiling at the face in the mirror, allowing himself a bit of levity before the rounds of the day. 

Faith has many colors after all and had a missionary caught wind of Harlan's irony, they would have jumped on the challenge; but Harlan as always kept his own counsel.  Jesus and his equally persuasive, promises only emissary Paul would be his closeted heroes. He kept an original Dore lithograph of The Temptation in the Desert on his office wall.  'Now that was Jesus at the top of his form'.