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Only the strong will survive

When Reagan and Clinton were seeking re-election, they didn't go after their opponents directly, in part because they didn't have to. Those incumbents knew that there's a point at which strong and tough can look weak and desperate.

JONATHAN ALTER
WE know what "strength" means to Lance Armstrong, the cancer survivor who won the Tour de France for a record sixth time last month. He's selling 5 million yellow bracelets for $1 apiece with the words "Live Strong" to raise money for other survivors. For Armstrong, it's not about the bike but the head: staying positive and resourceful -- living strong in a dangerous time -- is the best defense against those sleeper cells.
Cancer and terrorism, war and politics -- whatever the metaphor, the definition of "strength" will determine this year's presidential election. Polls show that undecided voters mostly agree with John Kerry on the issues, but they are only now focusing on whether he would be a strong leader. President Bush -- whatever one thinks of him -- is widely seen as resolute, steadfast, and therefore "strong," as conventionally defined. Kerry's challenge in his acceptance speech was not just to project strength but to define it more broadly, to persuade voters to appreciate him for "seeing the complexities" -- and to show, as Bill Clinton told the convention, that "strength and wisdom are not opposing values."
So it was no surprise that Kerry, surrounded by his Vietnam buddies, used variations on the word "strength" 17 times in his speech, injecting a little testosterone into each policy proposal. He raced through the text like Armstrong at the finish line, which some
critics say wrecked the good lines he had prepared. I thought the haste inadvertently transmitted energy and passion, which -- for a man falsely depicted as listlessly lacking convictions -- looked strong.
Bush believes that the best way to reinforce his strongman image is to stay on the offensive. He's betting that the dynamic of the campaign will allow him to level a new stinging charge every day that Kerry must then "explain." Whatever the facts, complex explanations look weak and defensive, so Bush himself rarely offers them; the president's biggest applause line on the stump is when he says he would do everything the same all over again in Iraq if he had the chance. "There is nothing complicated about supporting our troops," he said last week.
The president is comfortable and skillful on the attack, just as he was in his towel-snapping days as a preppy wise guy. And he's lucky to live in a time when it's not big news when a sitting president throws punches. By contrast, when President Jimmy Carter in 1980 suggested that his opponent, Ronald Reagan, might prove divisive if he won, the frenzied reaction from the press was that Carter was being "mean" and "unpresidential" by attacking his rival instead of running on his record. He was forced to back down.
When Reagan and Clinton were seeking re-election, they didn't go after their opponents directly, in part because they didn't have to. Those incumbents knew that there's a point at which strong and tough can look weak
and desperate. Without a plausible second-term agenda (and it's getting late for one), Bush risks coming across as a carping fearmonger. Both candidates know that the more optimistic candidate usually wins, but it's harder for Bush to pivot to the positive (a la Lance Armstrong' s definition of strength) when so much of his campaign revolves around taking down Kerry.
Despite his long face, Kerry has it easier in this regard. In Boston he figured out a way to barbecue Bush without mentioning him by name, except to ask him to take the high road. This passive-aggressive approach was meant for swing voters who like Bush personally, but it's also just smart politics. The secret to winning any election is to strangle your opponent without leaving fingerprints.
It's also the secret to real strength in the world. Bush's Iraq policy is a textbook illustration of why the sword works best when it's sheathed. The mythical giant up in the hills loses his power when he lumbers down into daylight. Now the whole world knows that American military forces are stretched thin and not as infallible as advertised. The war on terror is known as "asymmetrical combat," where the weak -- a few men with box cutters -- can humiliate the strong. So old-fashioned definitions of power don't mean as much. As the 9/11 Commission reported, our new world requires a more resourceful approach, with fresh attitudes toward intelligence, diplomacy and international education as important as anything coming out of the Pentagon. This will demand an eye for complexity, not a line in the sand.
Both candidates this year are bicyclists and Armstrong fans. Although he is a Texan, the champion has made no endorsement. But Armstrong' s formula for beating cancer goes beyond simply focusing on a goal and pedaling doggedly toward it. His books and Web site recommend ceaselessly exploring options, second-guessing doctors and finding hope out of being informed. To "live strong" isn't easy, and there's nothing uncomplicated about it.
Jonathan Alter is a senior writer for Newsweek.
(c) 2004, Newsweek Inc. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission.