The Power of Charm

By Hugh Sidey

Over and over the word recurred as Biographer Edmund Morris made his way through research on Theodore Roosevelt. His contemporaries talked of T.R.'s "sweetness." Even Roosevelt's political opponent Woodrow Wilson was smitten. "There is a sweetness about him that is very compelling," he said. "You can't resist the man." Mark Twain, William Jennings Bryan and even the peevish Henry Adams all were beguiled at one time or another, according to Morris.

"Sweetness" was a word scorned by muscular America. It became "charm." And that is what T.R.'s fifth cousin Franklin Roosevelt was all about, says James Rowe, the Washington lawyer who at 28 became F.D.R.'s executive assistant. Franklin made people like him and want to please him. At their first meeting in the Oval Office, Roosevelt threw his head back, beamed up at Rowe and said, "Jim, I want your advice." Rowe was captive for life.

During his two years in office, Ronald Reagan also has turned charm into power. Critics would contend it is the only thing sustaining his presidency. They may be right. Charm is a cousin once removed to style, which was one of John Kennedy's renowned qualities. Both go deeper than clothes and Irish stories.

At the recent Gridiron dinner, the President appeared onstage in a sombrero and sang a ditty in his uncertain baritone. The cold-eyed journalists leaped to their feet to cheer. "That's charm," said one of Reagan's close friends. A fortnight ago, House Speaker Tip O'Neill called a cease-fire in the budget war and asked Reagan up for lunch to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. Reagan readily accepted. For a few hours there was nothing but sweetness. The next day they were back beating each other's brains out. Says O'Neill: "Away from politics, he's a charmer."

West Germany's Helmut Schmidt and Canada's Pierre Trudeau both came to meetings with Reagan ready to eat him for breakfast. They ended up proclaiming their good feeling for him. India's granite lady, Indira Gandhi, actually seemed coquettish with Reagan. Queen Elizabeth did not have to throw a party-after-the-party for the Reagans during her West Coast visit. But she did, and even joined in songs around the piano, a royal rarity.

"He looks straight at you, gives you an eager handshake, always smiles, and it is obviously an honest expression," says a diplomat. For the tune he is with you, claims one of Reagan's closest friends, "he really is interested in you." Simple but powerful. Charm alone cannot reorder the world, but it seems to go further than many thought possible.

A skeptical Washington author, not wishing to burden Reagan with affairs of state, asked him about Jimmy Stewart. "I don't want to monopolize your time," said the President, "but let's sit down and let me tell you about Jimmy." Half an hour later Reagan had another fan.

One former high Government official who had sat in the Cabinet Room with three other Presidents found himself back there recently. He recalled that Kennedy used to charge in with a wisecrack. Lyndon Johnson lumbered in to intimidate his guests. Nixon entered nervously. Reagan came in quietly, confidently, then went to each man around the table and shook his hand warmly.

The Franklin Roosevelt family, honored by the Reagans at the White House on the 100th anniversary of F.D.R.'s birth, came with some doubt and grumbling, suspecting Reagan was trying to undo parts of the New Deal. Reagan's attentiveness to great-grandchildren and cousins smothered politics. Afterward, the Roosevelts flooded the press office with requests for pictures with Reagan.

A reporter who spent a week with Teddy Roosevelt in the White House in 1908 claimed that T.R. laughed heartily an average of 100 times a day. The journalist surmised that laughter was a crucial element in T.R.'s charm. One unscientific estimate is that Ronald Reagan is up to 75 laughs a day--and gaining. This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.