Presidents don’t get to pick and choose which challenges they will handle, they’re all there, on their plates, from the moment they take office. That means, obviously, that the conditions and some of the existing problems arose while their predecessors were in office. Nixon had to deal with Vietnam; George W. Bush had to deal with terrorism; Obama has to deal with fiscal, financial and economic issues. All three did or are doing what Presidents do, they picked up the hands dealt them and soldiered on.

It’s easy for bystanders to second guess or carp or even bay or howl, retrospectively or prospectively. But the man in office and his advisors keep trying. They may know the odds are against success or that they hold a losing hand. But it’s not as if they can go on TV and tell the public, “dude, it’s too hard, we’re folding on this issue and picking up something that is easier or more fun.” No matter the odds, with the toughest issues, Presidents struggle on, trying one approach or another. And they do so while dealing with psychic dissonance created by the differences between the political and the governmental worlds. The same conditions apply whether they are Republicans or Democrats.

The public plays a part in how candid Presidents can be in addressing them. Of course, there also are considerable strategic and tactical limitations on Presidential candor, especially when the issues involve foreign relations, national security and defense, or military actions. The public and even the weaker pundits or bloggers may not always recognize that but historians should.

Very often, the public rewards a reductionist approach. The political process can be crippling and demeaning, even unmanning. Let’s face it, many elements in the process of winning elections have a juvenile, high school pep rally quality to them. Most people would be humilated to have to go through what candidates do to attain jobs in their professions. But becoming President places one squarely into a very, very adult world, one in which many outside observers seem afraid to set even a toe. Instead, they stay stuck in the high school gym, yelling chants. from a much safer distance.

The President has moved beyond that, even if he had to go through the motions of leading the chants in the gym to get where he wanted to be. Consider LBJ in 1965, struggling with feeling trapped by his choices in Vietnam: “I can’t get out and I can’t finish it with what I have got. And I don’t know what the hell to do.” In public, of course, LBJ thundered away at how essential it was for the U.S. to prevail in Vietnam. It’s what Presidents often seem to believe that the people sitting in the bleachers expect of their public utterances. Some Presidents strive to move beyond that, however, although it isn’t always rewarded. There are political risks that affect the process, obviously.

But what about historians? When it comes to studying Presidents, historians do best if they leave the high school gym behind and consider what Gen. Anthony Zinni once said: “At high levels of seniority, decisions become less clear, and the decision-maker is often forced to choose between the lesser of two evils or two goods. Because there are degrees of good and bad inherent in all decisions, a consistent ethical code is critical.” Absent recognition of the psychic dissonance that Presidents have to confront as they make decisions, and what elements are involved in the very adult world they inhabit, they’re not going to get the whole story.

“The notion that RN purposely prolonged the war for political gain and then faked a peace that he knew would fail is still held by many hardcore critics. But on the spectrum of Vietnam criticism it is unquestionably extreme. And it has been challenged by more recent scholarship.”

Would you kindly indicate where the “more recent scholarship” that you refer to reposes? Are you perhaps referring to the research of Stephen J. Morris? I have long awaited Morris’ projected 2-volume history about the Vietnam War but have been able to find little mention of it beyond 2005.

Hughes is besotted with a view that Nixon’s motivations can be divined, by a form of thenatojournalism: evesdropping on Nixon’s ghost’s ad-hoc remarks on the White House tapes — as if Nixon knew or presumed what U.S. intelligence did not know about North Vietnam’s resolve (cf. Morris).

Thanks for any elaborations you are prepared to offer w.r.t. “more recent scholarship.”

As to Ken Hughes, he showed up at the New York Times’s Caucus Blog to defend Naftali last week. Defending former colleagues is commendable but one has to think tactically and strategically. And consider delineating sharply what is appropriate in the private as opposed to the public sector. I wouldn’t take for granted that all members of the public can separate the two. Naftali is an alum of the Miller Center but now is the federal supervisor for the staff that is screening Nixon’s tapes for public disclosure. He cannot and should not interpret materials for the public. His job is to release the evidence. Having as his strongest defender a former colleague who speaks up on Nixon’s motives may cause some confusion out there, especially for those all too eager to criticize the National Archives. I would hope that most people would avoid conflating the Miller Center’s approach with that required to fulfill the Archives’ mission. But you never know.