Legacy and Leadership

The two are (or should be) interconnected

By Ellie Roth

“What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.”

So goes the lyrics from the Broadway hit musical, “Hamilton.” The play revolves around Alexander Hamilton’s obsession with leaving his mark on the world, and his desire to be remembered for years to come. Like so many leaders throughout history, Hamilton worried that certain events in his life (remember Mariah Reynolds?) would taint his precious legacy. Why do we, as humans, care so much about the version of ourselves that remains in people’s minds after we’re gone? Why do leaders try so hard to create something that will outlive them?

On December 9, 2000, 32 days after the presidential election of that year, there was still a chance that Al Gore could win the election. The Florida Supreme Court had ordered a statewide recount in Florida, a state where George W. Bush held a narrow lead of only 537 votes of the six million cast. On that day, under the watchful eye of news cameras, election officials visually examined ballots that had not registered a vote that could be picked up by a machine. But it didn’t matter. That afternoon, the Supreme Court issued an emergency order stopping the recount until it heard the case of Bush v. Gore. Justice Antonin Scalia wrote that the continuation of the count threatened irreparable harm to Bush by tainting the legitimacy of his presidency. A big Supreme Court battle would follow, but it would be irrelevant—Al Gore lost the presidency the day the Supreme Court stopped the count. When Gore heard the news, he sent a message to staffers: “PLEASE MAKE SURE THAT NO ONE TRASHES THE SUPREME COURT.” 

When John McCain appeared on stage in Arizona the night the election was called for Barack Obama, his words were not ones of anger and spite, but rather hope and humility. At the first mention of Obama, the crowd erupted into boos and jeers. But McCain silenced the crowd—he raised his hands, shook his head, and said, “Please.” As the audience quieted, McCain went on, “I urge all Americans who supported me to join me in not just congratulating him, but offering our next president our goodwill and earnest effort to find ways to come together… Whatever our differences, we are fellow Americans.” The audience ended up applauding in agreement with McCain’s words. Despite just losing the presidential election, McCain urged his supporters to be hopeful, open minded, and willing to accept Obama as their new president. John McCain knew that part of his duty was to allow a peaceful transition of power, and the power of his words in this moment reverberated throughout history to today. His legacy is one of careful, thoughtful leadership, of putting the good of the country before his own ego.

When Biden was declared the winner of the 2020 election, Trump took to Twitter to angrily accuse the election process of being corrupt. He wanted to stop the vote in all states that he was winning, and “count every vote” in the states he was not. He claimed, with absolutely no proof, that absentee ballots were illegitimate, and that the Democratic Party was stealing the election. As I am writing this article, it has been nearly 20 days since the election was called for Biden, and Trump has yet to concede. This refusal to concede will haunt his legacy, undoubtedly wiping out any possible good he had done in his four years in office from memory. Why does Trump not care about his legacy?

Our legacy is born not just from our triumphs, but from how we act when we are at our lowest. When we are defeated. It is created from when the world is watching and when the world is not. For leaders, how they act in defeat should not overshadow the legacy they strive so hard to create. Legacy is a check on power for modest leaders; they fear the backlash of an angry public, and so they try to do what is right in that moment. But maybe we have passed the point of modest leadership. A leader like Trump, so unable to accept defeat or allow for a peaceful transition of power, doesn’t care about his legacy. He doesn’t care about building something for future generations to come. He will not be humble or dignified. The story that will be told will not be one of a kind man—it will be a story of a child who had to be dragged out of the highest office of leadership in American government. The history books will be kind to the men and women that lead with grace, dignity, and humility. The ones who set aside their differences in order to make this country better. The history books will not be kind to President Trump.