Good evening Mr. Trump, welcome to the White House. You are the latest person to take on the biggest responsibility in the world. It’s Abe Lincoln. I’ve been around for a while. May I share something with you, president to president, one Republican to another?
A young lawyer needs work
It comes in the form of a short story from my own life. In 1855, I was a failing lawyer in Illinois with a great many debts. I was desperate for a good paying case. I heard that the Manny case was coming to trial. Manny was an upstart company that produced reapers, or giant mechanical grain harvesters. The established industry leader was McCormick, and which sued Manny for a patent violation, claiming Manny stole a crucial gear design. McCormick’s plan was to litigate Manny out of existence. Just bury the upstart for years under legal bills to bleed him out.
The federal trial was set to take place in Springfield, Illinois. Manny was able to recruit a “dream team” of eastern lawyers that arrived in Springfield for the case. Because I was known to local Illinois judges, the Harvard hotshots hired me with a $500 retainer. They wanted a local face for the defense team, and I was it.
Lincoln mocked for his physical appearance
Little did I know, I was only being used as a patsy. I guess in your day it’s called “optics.” Lead counsel Edwin Stanton had no intention of actually putting me on the case. But I didn’t know that. So I set about researching and defending Manny’s gear design. I prepared a lengthy paper on gears and gave it to Stanton.
What else I didn’t know was that behind my back, Edwin Stanton called me a gawky, long armed baboon, and mocked my clothes, hair and nose. He joked to friends that the mere sight of me in court would lose the case.
On the eve of trial, I see in the newspaper that the venue was changed to Cincinnati. The New York hotshots didn’t need an Illinois local anymore. But they didn’t tell me of the venue change. I naively assumed that there was a delay in the mails. So at my own expense, I took a train to Cincinnati for trial opening, still thinking I was on the case. When I arrived in court, Stanton scowled and again mocked my appearance. He threw my research paper into the trash, unopened. I was made to sit in the audience rather than allowed at the defense table. In the evenings, I was excluded from the lawyers’ meals. I was to play no role in the trial whatsoever, pushed aside and humiliated by Edwin Stanton.
After trial, I returned to Springfield to practice law and later campaigned for the US Senate.
This time, Lincoln hires Stanton
Years later, in 1862, when I was president, Union forces were losing the Civil War. Confederate commanders were chopping up our troops in battle after battle. I needed a Secretary of War. Edwin Stanton was suggested, and I interviewed him. His skill and tenacity for the Union cause were sorely needed. I nominated him and the Senate confirmed. We went on to win the war.
My point, Mr. President, is this: When the country needed Edwin Stanton, I set aside the pain and the humiliation he once inflicted on me. He degraded me in the past, but I needed him, his nation needed him, at that moment. The past is the past. A true leader in a crucial moment does not have the time–and should not have the inclination–to settle old scores.
It would have been very easy, and very human, to impale Stanton on the cold sword of vengeance by publicly humiliating him in return. But the presidency calls to something higher.
Let him up easy
Mr. Trump, the presidency is going to test you as it did me. I urge you to be a leader who does not humiliate people. Truly strong leaders do not decimate their opponents, but instead listen to them, respect them and preserve their dignity. Do not use power to injure or punish or exploit. Do not exact onerous concessions from those who lose. It only begets the next phase of conflict.
As a young man, I wrestled. When the fierce combat was over, when I defeated my man, I always knew to let him up easy. You can make a friend for life that way.
We won the Civil War in April of 1865, though I did not survive to savor the moment. Death was delivered to me by a vengeful Confederate assassin. As I took my last breath and my spirit ascended, I heard Edwin Stanton say: “Now he belongs to the ages.”
I hope someone says that for you.
Did you enjoy this post? I’d be grateful, my friend, if you shared it with one of your friends. RIP, Abe Lincoln.