The American Spectator

p> em>Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he br> That every man in arms should wish to be? /em> br> — “Character of the Happy Warrior,” William Wordsworth, 1836 /p>

GROVER CLEVELAND LOVED THE POEM, would gladly recite it to friends, and directed that it be read at his funeral. Long before anyone had heard of “re-branding,” Franklin Roosevelt nominated an urban Catholic redistributionist at the 1924 Democratic Convention, positioning his fellow New Yorker Al Smith as a sensible reformer, a “Happy Warrior on the political battlefield.” In the next generation, Hubert Humphrey fought against communism and for social justice as the Happy Warrior, even using the title to name his campaign plane.

Though soaked in the English romanticism of the early nineteenth century, the remarkable power of these words projected across borders and across time. More than a century later, they continued to resonate in the psyche of American politicians. Wordsworth celebrates the warrior, who — despite personal pain and/or negative outcome — is impossible to defeat, sustained in virtue and in happiness by an idealized vision of both the larger cause and the waiting home. As the nineteenth century ended, these classic romantic ideas of self-honesty, morality and the virtue of the modest hearth grafted perfectly onto the blossoming concepts of American duty and American exceptionalism. That such noble a set of verses could have shaped the heart of so many of our leaders makes America eternally indebted to this foreign poet — and right now desperate for his Warrior’s return.

Since Humphrey, the Happy Warrior has been largely missing in action. The only significant references of the last two decades were to President Ronald Reagan — but only after he passed away. Basically, entering the early eighties post-Carter polarized environment, Reagan was too good an actor to let himself be perceived as a “warrior.” His admittedly cheerful, though passive-aggressive style destroyed competitors from within — both foreign and domestic.

As always when something bad happens, there will be the social critics who want to blame institutions and not people. Political author Joe Klein might point out that the demise of the Happy Warrior was concurrent with the rise of the campaign consultant. Senator McCain might say the villain was campaign spending, scaring away heroes from entering the public arena. Marshall McLuhan might blame the tube and its power to project beauty devoid of virtue. But these social developments are not causes: they are simply technocratic advances that generally just leverage the direction the population is already heading.

Who killed him, then? For that, we need to identify real people and check their hands for blood. Fortunately, our search can begin with the clues embedded into the poem. And even if we can’t yet definitively identify the “real killer,” we sure can isolate some darn good suspects.

p> Clue # 1 br> em>But who, if he be called upon to face