Of Jackson and Trump (DRAFT)

First published January 18, 2021

Prior to the 1/6/2020 Capitol Riot insurrection, I drafted this piece comparing the presidencies of Jackson and Trump. Of course, the judgments below will change dramatically in light of Trump's betrayal, but I felt it was important to show that I had been quite fair to a presidency which in my opinion until that day had yet to veer into outright treason.

Over the course of the presidency of Donald Trump, he has from time to time been compared with the other great populist president, Andrew Jackson, not least by Trump himself. But how accurate is the comparison? Robert Remini’s condensed biography of Jackson suggests answers to that question, providing many sharp distinctions as well as a few intriguing parallels.

We might best begin with Trump’s own characterization:

I mean, had Andrew Jackson been a little bit later you wouldn't have had the Civil War. He was a very tough person, but he had a big heart. He was really angry that he saw what was happening with regard to the Civil War, he said, 'There's no reason for this.'

Of course, Trump was pilloried for his imprecise language, but his sentiment is correct: Jackson did prevent a civil war during the Nullification Crisis, invoking legal and executive powers to ensure the South Carolina insurrection never caught hold. It seems likely he would never have allowed Southern states to secede as James Buchanan did.

More to the point, being a “tough person” with a “big heart” seems to resonate with Trump’s idea of a New York City business mogul. But for all his acumen in negotiating popular politics, he lacked Jackson's skill in the elite realm. The tough, big-hearted millionaire who modeled his presidency on that of a self-made frontiersman never quite translated his ideals into words and acts most of his countrymen could understand.

Popularity

There is arguably no point that simultaneously connects and distinguishes Jackson and Trump than their unrivaled popularity. As the hero of New Orleans and conqueror of Florida, Jackson’s contributions to the nation made him a bona fide folk hero and legend. His popularity secure, the only question was his viability for the highest office. His positions against the Bank of the United States (BUS), the national debt, and corruption in general appealed to a majority. Importantly, he had enough political acumen to spur the founding of the Democratic Republicans, which would send him to the White House and later become today’s Democratic Party.

Trump was for decades a well known and reasonably popular personality and skilled promoter. His accomplishments primarily include building his real estate and business empire - about which there are some questions - and creating and hosting a very popular reality show, which is beyond question. Having evaded military service during Vietnam, however, he could never be considered a hero like Jackson, although many of his supporters no doubt consider him a political hero.

But what he lacked in accomplishments he made up for in chutzpah and political outrage, akin to the melodramatic antics of professional wrestling. His political career began in earnest with his creation of the Birther conspiracy movement, a racist attack on President Barack Obama’s parentage. Although it never gained broad appeal, Trump’s ability to craft national narratives to select groups was on full display.

His breakthrough came with continued outrageous attacks against opponents in the 2015-16 republican primary, most notably against Senator John McCain’s military service and ordeal as a POW. It was the sort of attack Jackson absolutely despised: “My political enemies I can freely forgive; but as for those who abused me when I was serving my country in the field, and those who attacked me for serving my country… that is a different case.” (Gen. Jackson eventually relented and forgave them too, which we might take as another departure from Trump.)

Policy

The Jackson administration’s principal contribution to American foreign policy was demanding reimbursement for spoliations against Americans during the Napoleonic Wars. His motto was to do nothing that “is not clearly right” and “submit to nothing that is wrong.” In practice, this meant not simply letting things go but fighting for American rights.

Jackson’s foreign policy was very firm, but not extreme or implacable. In order to win reparations from France, he made a gesture to repudiate any ill will toward that country. Although some might have seen it as an apology in the face of opposition, Jackson defended it strongly as no such thing.

Many of Trump’s “America First” policies may have been reasonable enough on their own, but backed by Trump’s pugilistic words and Mercurial style, they took on a life all their own. The winds of favor were ever shifting within the “Twitterverse” and the harshest language was often reserved for friends and allies.

With the help of his son-on-law Jerrod Kushner, Trump made unexpected gains on Mideast peace. He accomplished this by aligning with Saudi Arabia against Iran, spending political capital to support the Saudis in their proxy war against Iran in Yemen. Being seen to support Saudi human rights abuses abroad cost him, but ended up being a relatively minor ring in the full circus that was Trump’s show. With Saudi auspices in hand, Kushner laid out hard - but arguably fair - conditions for the Palestinians. When they didn’t bite, the U.S. simply cashed in on the new alignment to bring other Arab countries to recognize Israel. In all, it was the deftest maneuver of Trump’s presidency, although critics will point to the loss of the JCPOA advancing Iran’s nuclear program and perceived support for Saudi human rights abuses.

Trump channeled his policies toward popular American gripes about government: securing the border with Mexico, making allies “pay their fair share,” getting out of “bad deals” in trade and foreign policy (like Paris, JCPOA, and the Transpacific Partnership or TTP), disengagement from foreign “entanglements” and “forever wars,” and at a very basic level “draining the swamp,” i.e. cleaning up corruption.

In this, Trump shares much with Jackson. Jackson pointed to the BUS as a fiefdom and foreign-owned liability, as well as the Congressionally-decided election of 1824, which he called a “corrupt bargain.” In many ways, this formed the core grievance of Jacksonian democracy: allowing the elites to decide for “the common man.” But while he deployed this grievance skillfully, his policy never sought to alternate Americans.

In some respects, both men were noted for their “straight talk.” Trump was supposed to “say the things we talk about at home” and indeed, much like Jackson, his policies had a homespun quality. Most were justifiable on some level and within the realm of discussion. Some of them, however, while having significant popular appeal were roundly condemned by experts before, during, and after their advent.

For Jackson, this was his dissolution of the BUS. To be sure, Jackson had a point that it was unfair for particular Americans to profit under the penumbra of the American public trust. He was probably wrong about foreign BUS investors creating a vulnerability. All in all, the best thinkers agree destroying the BUS was wrong, pointing to a series of financial collapses in its wake. It might have been possible to ameliorate the inequities without ending the BUS, thus preserving its healthful effects, but Jackson stuck to his guns. For his part, Jackson blamed those supporting the BUS for the subsequent financial collapses. He didn’t accept responsibility, although that would have been an extraordinary step.

The dragons Trump sought to slay were inequitable foreign “deals,” including treaties and trade agreements. The Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), JCPOA, and Paris Agreement were the most notable casualties. Each of these had at least significant support within their respective expert communities.

For Trump supporters, the hope of better relations with Russia and China allowed them to overlook Trump’s failure to take personal moral stances against authoritarian dictators. And while peace is certainly preferable to war on an absolute level, Trump’s failure to draw clear moral lines is demoralizing to American and ally alike. It would be unfair, however, to compare the two men in this because Jackson did not stand at the head of a league of democratic allies. As much as he desired democracy for America, he can hardly have hoped that it might blossom as far and as wide as it did. Now that it has, the lesson of Munich shows the folly of retreating behind our oceans.

Trump also carried on a lively match against “political correctness,” which some would say has coursened our national discourse, although this may be limited to Trump himself. Trump, like Jackson, is perhaps best understood as a cultural phenomenon.

Cabinets

Jackson’s loyalty to friends proved his undoing in selecting his cabinet. Indeed, the Eaton Affair showed his inflexible loyalty to his Secretary of War, whose wife stood slandered among White House society. Jackson wouldn’t hear of it. So great was his commitment to propriety and harmony that he called a cabinet meeting to challenge any of them to present cause against Mrs. Eaton.

In fact, there was some question as to the propriety of Jackson’s own frontier marriage arrangements in the previous century, although this was never made explicit. Old Hickory may have sympathized. Nonetheless, it is very hard to imagine Trump standing up for another’s honor in this way.

Indeed, Trump’s tenure has been marked by his wholesale rejection of the customary marks of propriety: releasing tax returns, divesting oneself of assets to prevent conflicts of interest, avoidance of statements and acts prejudicial to justice, and drawing a line between foreign policy and campaigning, to name a few. Such irregularities invited a persistent cloud over his presidency and ultimately led to his impeachment.

Trump’s main defense against the charge was his own form of openness, a near-constant sharing of his thoughts, supposedly unfiltered, on Twitter and in person. In this sense, his was probably the most open presidency ever. There was hardly any mystery about his thoughts, a regular reminder of the need for a government that is both efficient and dignified.

Trump was rather a more sensitive boss than Jackson, seeking clear, aggressive talent, but above all loyalty. Nowhere was this more evident than with Vice President Mike Pence. Here was a man who could never be accused of disloyalty, and yet there were limits beyond which he would not go. Indeed, Trump’s desire for displays of loyalty was such that it could induce the unwary to compromise their integrity. Woe unto them if they were ever clearly called out. But on the whole, Trump selected and stuck with his most effective secretaries. As much as he prized loyalty, he was also highly tolerant - even desirous - of disunity. This tendency amplified his already chaotic, reality-show style of management.

Cruelty

However gracious they might be at times, the two men also shared a cruel streak. Jackson was of course the willful author of the Trail of Tears and other forced migration of Native Americans. And he opposed any liberty for Black Americans. In two notable instances, Jackson opted to see men die when a quantum of mercy might have spared their lives. To be sure, Jackson was within his rights, but his inclination was not toward sympathy. For these reasons, Jackson will always be a villain in the nation’s mind, never the hero he was in his own day.

Although Trump cannot match Jackson’s record of cruelty, his inclination is clear in a few smaller ways (the list would grow a great deal if we added word to deed): his readiness to separate the children of illegal border crossers from their parents, banning transgender people from the military, attempting to ban Muslims from immigrating to the United States, and putting numbers and ego before lives in the Covid crisis, among others. In chasing popular causes, Trump was almost always willing to trample what his many opponents would call the moral right. Although he never took responsibility for cruelties like the border separation policy, we should also remember that he did alter them hoping to limit their pernicious effects.

On the point of cruelty, there is a bitter edge to Trumpian democracy which Jackson’s words never lent to his. Each slew their dragons, but Jackson’s were mainly “corruption” and the BUS, impersonal entities. Trump put pressure on institutions as well, but a number of times made it more personal: Muslims, Hispanics, LGBTQ, African-Americans, Jews and others have at times been singled out by his administration for harsh treatment or rhetoric. Of course, Jackson led and bears full responsibility for the Trail of Tears, but then he didn’t consider American Indians to be his constituents.

Another important distinction perhaps lies in that Jackson, while equally strong in his support of the vox populi, was simply never so adept at making enemies as Trump.

Power

One important lesson to be learned from both presidencies is that the office has been mainly defined by how its occupants have pressed and expanded its claims to authority and power. Jackson, in standing as a direct representative of the people, abolishing the BUS, and eliminating the national debt defined the American system for future presidents.

But apart from all the policies, Jackson’s patrimony to the nation was Jacksonian democracy, or as Remini puts it:

There could be no doubt that, in some remarkable and marvelous way, the “common man” had been admitted into the mainstream of the nation’s political life.

Jackson illustrated his concept of democracy most colorfully - and flavorfully- with the advent of his multi-ton block of cheese, a behemoth curd dragged into the White House and kept there for aging. When the time was ripe, he opened the mansion to the public so that all might take their hunk of cheddar.

In all, however, Jackson was very careful and deliberate in his use of power. For example, when he called for direct election, he also asked also that presidents be sharply term-limited. In exercising unprecedented veto power against the BUS, he did not then use the veto profligately. Indeed, along with his calls for reform, as mentioned propriety was a great concern for “Old Hickory.”

I believe there is much in Jackson’s democracy upon which Trump modelled his own. We might even call it his moral center. But such changes require deep popularity. Although the affection of his supporters was every bit as deep and genuine as Jackson’s, Trump never reached more than a fraction of the people, much less the majority for whom Jackson was an American hero. Many of his supporters conceded his inappropriateness, granting provisional support simply for his promise to support conservative issues like the appointment of supreme court justices.

Were we to conceive of the two presidencies as consumables, Jackson’s would be a young bourbon: strong and distinct, harsh to the uninitiated, but deeply sweet and broadly popular. On the other hand, Trump’s would be Marmite: aggressively salty to the point of offense, accepted by many for its potentially salubrious effects, but deeply loved by only a few. In essence, Trump has spread himself far too thick.

It is ironic that some of Trump’s most fervent supporters now speak of civil war and it is a black mark on his record that he has not accepted the will of the people. Normally, there is only so much blame in what a president says. For some, Trump’s verbal outrages may have been forgivable. But in seeking to throw the election to the Congress and state legislatures, Trump is attempting the very “corrupt bargain” which Jackson’s democracy was formed to oppose. Both men have been revered as defenders of liberty, but in light of recent events, it is hard to imagine this being said of Trump: “The American people always believed that as long as General Andrew Jackson lived, the democracy was safe.”

It may be that we have lost our ideal of the president as a folk hero. Our recent presidents have been relatable, smart or sometimes both, but none has had any claim at all to being a hero since George Bush, Sr. Trump’s popularity among the true believers is indisputable; the existence of Trump Stores attests to it. (Interestingly, both men were so popular within their parties that they saw no need for a platform for their reelections.) But unlike Jacksonian Democracy, Trumpism is not a widespread faith.