By Peter Preston
THE GUARDIAN , London
Wednesday, Jun 09, 2004,Page 9
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He was a "truly great American," a "towering figure" of our age. And so on and so forth from Margaret Thatcher, Michael Howard, US President George W. Bush and all who scurried to bury former US president Ronald Reagan in an oleaginous ocean of tribute. How deep is that ocean? It's amazing how fast your feet touch rocky bottom.
Reagan, for the moment, has a particular niche in American folklore. He came after poor careworn Jimmy Carter; he was sunshine after rain. He made jokes and read an autocue better than any president before or since. He smiled and aw-shucks'd easily, a man for picket fences and pecan pie, a Frank Capra hero picnicking on the White House lawn. The good times rolled through his eight years of power. And he was that strong guy who "won" the cold war.
Is this enough for towering greatness? Aw shucks! It barely stands straight, let alone tall. There was one hero of Ronnie's two terms, one really strong fellow who held everything together, but his name was Jim Baker, the brilliant political manager and pal of vice president George Bush, who became chief of staff when a crisis of competence threatened everything, when Donald Regan bailed out and the Oval Office turned pear-shaped. James Baker III was, for a while, the best president America never had; and Ronnie, upstairs snoozing or watching TV, was a passenger riding his luck.
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