He's confrontational, volatile, and self-aggrandizing -- but those aren't the only reasons his former colleagues fear him becoming leader of the free world.
There is a serious debate among those who know Newt Gingrich well, particularly those who served with him in Congress and watched him not for the duration of a debate or speech but for hours at a time, day after day, year after year. On the one hand, there are those who fear for the country if he were ever to become president. That assessment seems a little extreme to others: they express no fear for the country because they believe (wrongly, I think) that he has no chance of becoming president. What they fear instead is the destruction of the Republican Party. The fact that those who know him best fear him the most makes it imperative to try to understand what a Gingrich nomination -- or presidency -- would mean, and to better understand who, exactly, this person is.
He is, above all, an actor. This is why he is so appealing to those who know only what they see on a stage.
To this point, almost all of assessments of the Gingrich candidacy have been focused on the immediate campaign (for the Republican nomination) and the prospective campaign (the subsequent contest against Barack Obama). Those evaluations concern themselves with debate technique, ability to exploit weakness, and likeability. But this is not a sporting event, it is about who will serve as the next president of the United States. I acknowledge that I have frequently observed that the American presidency is a relatively constrained executive position, with most of the nation's ultimate powers residing with the peoples' representatives in the House and Senate. But the presidency is not a minor governmental position; whoever holds that office has some ability to do good and a frighteningly large ability to do harm. Which is why we should be assessing the campaign for the Republican nomination not in terms of who can be nastiest in a head-to-head showdown with Obama, but who can be wise, constrained, and strategic in dealing with the French, the Germans, the Chinese, the Brazilians, and the North Koreans. Newt Gingrich is not half as smart as he thinks he is, nor as he has persuaded easily-conned journalists and primary voters he is (more on that in a moment). But smart or not, nobody has ever accused him of either wisdom or constraint. This campaign is not just about 'taking it to Obama'; the current administration has not been a great success on any front and there is more than one Republican in the field who could ensure that the Obama presidency does not extend beyond the current term. The issue is not who would be most aggressive on the stump but to whom we should entrust America's future, America's prosperity, and America's safety. I am not associated with any campaign but of the choices available to us, the worst -- and that is saying something -- is Newt Gingrich.
I have known Newt Gingrich for 33 years. For several, he and I served together as members of the House Republican leadership. And to be honest, my first reactions were positive. We who were already in the House were pleased when he finally won his first election, in 1978, after two unsuccessful tries. He and I talked occasionally, sometimes in one of our two offices, sometimes on the House floor, once as I was giving him a ride home. He was ambitious and eager to engage in the process. During his first term, I established a small gathering of members I considered to be intelligent, thoughtful, and committed to an optimistic and big-tent conservatism. Newt was one of the members I invited to participate, along with friends like Jack Kemp, Bob Livingston, and Ed Bethune, each of whom had reached beyond the stereotypical conservative constituency and had worked assiduously to reach out to minorities and people with new approaches to problem-solving (Kemp was probably the archetype). I invited speakers ranging from the head of the public school system in Washington, D.C., to foreign policy experts, and a Georgetown professor named Jeane Kirkpatrick before she switched her primary focus to foreign affairs. I was deliberately selective in inviting colleagues into that group and had no hesitation about including Newt.
Over time, however, a different Newt began to emerge. We all knew he was intelligent: there's a lot of brain power in Congress and Gingrich was certainly in the top hundred, maybe the top 50. (To those who have bought into his shtick about being the resident genius, it's a two-sided coin. There were always a number of people in the room who were much smarter, but he's no dummy. He could hold his own). Nonetheless, despite the fact that he was initially taken seriously, Newt began to adopt a pose. He would not simply walk into a meeting, he would walk in clutching armloads full of newspapers, magazines, and other assorted papers. He had taught history for a short time in a college and had no need to try to impress others; we all read a lot, but usually left the newspapers at the breakfast table and the briefing papers in our offices.
(Newt's penchant for lecturing was brought home to me several years later, when I was teaching at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government. He developed a filmed "course" on government which he wanted to have offered for credit as a part of the Kennedy School curriculum. I was one of two faculty members tasked with reviewing the course, which mainly featured Newt, talking. I was then one of the few Republicans teaching at the Kennedy School and hoped this could be a good supplement to give our students an additional taste of how we Republicans view the government-citizen relationship. But the course, and the lectures that were its central feature, were shallow -- provocative and interesting at first, but essentially a patchwork of boiler-plate argument and hyperbole. The school had no choice but to send it back with a simple "no thanks.")
Newt also adopted another new practice in his meetings on the Hill, not just talking, but whipping out "briefing points." Newt became more and more entertaining and increasingly engendered a lot of eye-rolling. He also began a practice of "synthesizing." Because nobody particularly liked meetings and much that seemed self-evident was simply left unsaid, it became Newt's habit to rise late and proclaim what everybody in the room already knew but thought unnecessary to state. This, of course, left the impression of grandstanding but also led to the obvious conclusion that what he was saying was quite wise because it was precisely what each of us had also been thinking. I've always thought that if he had not entered politics, Newt should have gone to Hollywood; he has become unusually adept at adopting personas for public consumption. In that sense he is every bit as good as a Robert DeNiro or a Robert Duvall. He is, above all, an actor. This is why he is so appealing to those who know only what they see on a stage.