The below article first appeared in David Corn’s newsletter, Our Land. The newsletter comes out twice a week (most of the time) and provides behind-the-scenes stories and articles about politics, media, and culture. Subscribing costs just $5 a month—but you can sign up for a free 30-day trial.
I tend not to get all dewy-eyed about bipartisanship. It was bipartisanship that gave us the Vietnam War and the Iraq War, deregulation of the financial sector that caused economic disaster, the bloated military budget, trade deals that undercut American workers, and protection for rapacious corporate interests, including energy conglomerates that long denied and covered up evidence of climate change. But I found it hard not to tear up on Thursday morning during Gerald Ford’s eulogy of Jimmy Carter, a posthumous tribute that demonstrated that political division can be overridden by shared values. Or, at least, once could be.
Ford died 18 years ago. But before he passed, the 38th president of the United States penned a eulogy for the 39th president. Prior to his death, Ford had asked Carter to deliver the eulogy at his funeral. Carter agreed and asked if Ford would do the same at his funeral. It was a bit of a joke: who of the pair would be the one to show up and deliver the second eulogy. At Carter’s funeral at Washington National Cathedral, Ford’s son, Steve Ford, read the testament to Carter that Ford had left behind.
In the 1976 election, Carter, running as a let’s-clean-up-government Democrat who vowed “I will never lie to you,” defeated Ford, who was weighed down by the stench of Richard Nixon and Watergate (and perhaps his pardon of Nixon), by 2 points in the popular vote. Five years later, a year after Carter was trounced by Ronald Reagan, Carter and Ford found themselves together on Air Force One flying to Egypt for the funeral of Anwar Sadat, the assassinated Egyptian president with whom Carter had negotiated the historic Camp David Accords (with Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin). The two one-term ex-presidents hit it off and for the next 25 years enjoyed a friendship.
In the eulogy, Ford noted that during the 1976 contest, “Jimmy knew my political vulnerabilities, and he successfully pointed them out. Now I didn’t like it. But little could I know that the outcome of that 1976 election would bring about one of my deepest and most enduring friendships.” On the return trip from Egypt, they discussed their families, faith, and values—and the bother of having to raise money for a presidential library. They decided they would jointly declare that that Palestinian issue needed to be resolved to achieve lasting peace in the Middle East—not a popular position within the Reagan administration. “It was the first time, but by no means the last time, that our unlikely partnership ruffled feathers in the Washington establishment,” Ford recalled in his eulogy. The pair also agreed to hold a series of conferences on arms control—at a time when the Reagan cold warriors were looking to rip up previous nuclear weapons agreements, expand the US nuclear arsenal, and beat the Soviets in an arms race.
Ford, in this tribute, praised Carter for his integrity: “He displayed that honesty throughout his life.” He hailed Carter for pursuing “brotherhood across boundaries of nationhood, across boundaries of tradition, across boundaries of caste. In America’s urban neighborhood, in rural villages around the world, he reminded us that Christ had been a carpenter. And in Third World villages, he successfully campaigned not for votes but for the eradication of diseases that shame the developed world as they ravaged the undeveloped one.” He cited Carter’s work promoting democracy overseas: “The American people and the people of the world will be forever blessed by his decades of good works. Jimmy Carter’s legacy of peace and compassion will remain unique as it is timeless.”
It was a lovely moment—and a gesture showing that politics need not be an arena of hatred. As Steve Ford spoke his father’s words, it was nigh impossible to consider Donald Trump’s presence in the cathedral—he was in the second row, sitting next to Barack Obama—and to not contemplate how Trump has intensified the animosity that does flow through American politics. Could Trump pen such words about a onetime rival and display graciousness and compassion? No, his go-to schtick is one of cruelty, mockery, and mean-spiritedness. During the campaign, he repeatedly claimed Carter was a happy man because he was now “considered a brilliant president” when compared to President Joe Biden, whom Trump repeatedly derided as an imbecile and moron.
Politics for Republicans has long been a blood sport. Nixon exploited racism with his Southern strategy; Reagan teamed up with the religious right that accused Democrats of hating God and country; Newt Gingrich encouraged Republicans to brand Democrats as traitors and the enemies of American families and children; Sarah Palin assailed Obama as a commie who despised the United States. But Trump has embraced malice and brutality unlike any president.
As Carter’s fundamental decency, intelligence, devotion to faith, commitment to public service at home and abroad, and generosity of spirit were celebrated by the eulogists—who included two Carter grandsons; former Vice President Walter Mondale’s son (who read the eulogy his deceased father left behind); Andrew Young, the civil rights leader who served in Carter’s administration as UN ambassador; and Biden—Trump was the elephant in the room. The question hovered: How have we come to this? About to reenter the White House is a grifting and deceitful narcissist who relishes insults, who incites violence, who encourages savagery. And how many houses for the poor did Trump build after his first White House tenure? What efforts did he make to improve the lives of the less fortunate overseas? Trump’s own foundation was shut down, and he was forced to pay a $2 million fine because he had inappropriately used it for business and political—not charitable—purposes.
During his presidential campaign, Carter released a book titled Why Not the Best? After Watergate exposed the sordidness of American politics, he suggested that we as a nation could do much better. When Trump was considering a presidential run in the spring of 2015, I asked one of his aides if his crew was worried about Trump’s well-known liabilities: his history of misogynistic remarks, his many business failures, his mob ties, his relentless hucksterism, his ego, his obnoxiousness. None of that, the aide said, was of concern to Trump’s team. “That’s all baked in,” he said. The strategic premise guiding Trump and his minions was that voters wanted an asshole who would be their asshole. It’s as if the Trump campaign motto would be “Why not the worst?”
As a person, Carter was the antithesis of Trump. Sure, as a politician he was no saint, and his presidency had both accomplishments and serious flaws. But for four decades after leaving the White House, he showed the world how a politician could serve without putting himself first. With Trump returning to power, Carter and all the tributes he has received are counterprogramming showing us that the leader of America need not be a cruel, callous, and vicious megalomaniac.
Trump has adopted crassness as the currency of the realm of politics. He has demonized Americans who are not within his MAGA cult and attempted to delegitimize political foes and critics (as well as the press). He has waged war on decency. In the coming stretch, he can be expected to continue this crusade and further infuse and debase American politics with hatred. Those not entranced or enthralled by his reliance and promotion of animus will need to find in our national discourse and in our own lives acts and moments of decency that can counter the rancor and enmity that Trump seeks to enshrine within the American spirit. This will make the darkness less dark, and from the grave, Carter and Ford have reminded us that is possible.