Joe Biden, Tragedy, and the American Political Landscape
Using Aristotle to understand his career.
This one isn’t by me; it’s from guest author Lilly J. Goren, a professor of political science at Carroll University who studies and teaches the intersections between US politics, political theory, and literature and popular culture. He most recent book is The Politics of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (co-edited with Nicholas Carnes) - Jonathan
It might be hard for some of us to find our bearings in the wake of the unprecedented events of the last month in US politics. At such times, it may help to turn to the earliest students of politics. One enduring idea – Aristotle’s notion of tragedy and tragic heroes – may be exactly what’s needed to make sense of Joe Biden’s career and our political moment.
Aristotle provided a clear framework for thinking about tragedy and tragic heroes in his Poetics. His discussion of tragedy in the plays of his time, the work of Sophocles in the Oedipus cycle or Aeschylus in the Oresteia, discovered a pattern in terms of plot, characters, diction, spectacle, melody/song, and thought. It’s a framework that can be used for some real-life political events and politicians, even though they are not the creation of authors, directors, or actors.
Biden’s choices, especially over the most recent weeks, have all the hallmarks that attend to tragedy and to tragic heroism. And for many citizens, the experiences of tragedy – which contains the inevitable fall, a catharsis, and then a moving forward with a sense of relief and refreshment – seem to provide an understanding for the dynamics at work.
Biden’s abdication of his re-election bid is a clear example of the self-knowledge that tragic heroes come into as they move through the circumstances of their tragedy. The idea of the tragic hero is the understanding of the narrative of events that an individual experiences as they negotiate the vicissitudes of life. Aristotle notes that the application of the idea of tragedy is of “events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will then be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident.”
Biden’s choice to leave the presidential race, after having committed to pursuing a second term, took many by surprise – even many of those who had hoped for it. But our reaction to the tragic hero is not just the heightening of emotions that we experience in observing surprising actions that inspire fear or pity. In this regard, the tragic hero, who is the center of the activity, faces misfortune, which “is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty.” The hero is often trying to do the right thing, the appropriate thing, but after some initial success, faces a reversal of luck or fortune and things start to go wrong.
In so many ways, this characterizes Joe Biden not only in his decision to step aside from the presidency, but in his life. As a husband and a father, he has faced tragic events as reversals, such as the death of his wife and daughter just after his original election to the US Senate and the death of his adult son after he attained the vice-presidency, and then the addictions and legal problems of his other adult son, much of that during his presidency. Part of what drew so many voters towards Biden in the 2020 election cycle was his empathetic nature and his deep understanding of loss and grief, as Americans were negotiating loss and grief in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic. His approach as a happy warrior, someone who had lived through some of life’s most difficult experiences and still carried on with a strength of character and commitment to the nation, seemed to fit the moment.
Biden’s choice about the 2024 election was double-sided, as is often the case with the tragic hero’s choice. Initially he decided to run for re-election, despite concerns from many voters. As the campaign went on and his polls dropped while reports of his difficulties increased, that choice took on tragic qualities because many saw it as misguided, full of hubris, and disconnected from the reality of Biden’s health and capacities. Then the second side of his choice was the decision to leave the race, late in the election cycle, after the primaries. That option was also hobbled by recriminations: why had Biden taken so long to make the decision, stubbornly digging in his heels after his party systematically deserted him after his poor debate performance in late June. Thus, even the catharsis that many experienced with Biden’s exit from the re-election cycle still carried the weight of personal flaws that prevented the tragic hero from having made the wise choice at the appropriate time.
Biden, in his speech Wednesday to the nation about his decision, noted that he was stepping aside for the good of his party and for the good of the country. His decision is greater than himself, as is the tragic expectation, and like tragic heroes, Biden came to a self-understanding. He understood, or at least accepted the limitations of his abilities. Like so many tragic heroes—especially those who are most famous, like Hamlet, or Oedipus, or Lear, or Tony Stark—Biden is a flawed individual, whose choices and initial misunderstanding of his own capacities led to, in many ways, a kind of tragic conclusion to his life of service and elected office.
Biden is hardly the only US president who evokes these story lines. I often discuss with my students the tragedies of both Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon. Lyndon Johnson’s tragedy is more acute in so many ways, because he found himself unable to lead the very people who he had worked so hard to lift up and promote. Johnson continues to be remembered for the debacle of the Vietnam war and the isolated imperialism of the presidency, despite having such a strong record in the creation of programs that benefited Americans who had been excluded from wealth and political equality, including Medicare and Medicaid, Head Start, and the Voting Rights and Civil Rights Acts. Tragedy focuses on the narrative as well as the characters, and Lyndon Johnson’s time in office and position in history is complicated by the political conflicts that surrounded the later part of his administration, especially from those within the party with whom LBJ had had most allegiance. The deeds and the individual in a tragedy are woven together, since it is the individual’s choices that often lead to the tragic events.
The tragedy of Richard Nixon is similar, with his paranoia and self-doubt leading to the corruption within his administration and to Watergate. And then he spent the rest of his life trying to rehabilitate his capacities, at least in the eyes of others. In so many ways, Nixon’s political life was indeed one of tragic proportions. (Though I often liken him to Shakespeare’s Richard III, given their shared quest for power and their shared paranoia.)
But in some ways, Biden is an even better fit. According to Aristotle, tragedy should not leave the audience depressed or despairing. Instead, the audience experiences the catharsis of emotion—especially of the fear or pity tied to the tragic events and the hero—and can move on from the experience refreshed. The outpouring of engagement and support for Vice President Kamala Harris tracks along the same lines of this ancient framing, embodying the shift from the tragic to catharsis and a sense of renewal. At least for Democrats.
More clear now of course but i am surprised political scientists and pundits did not focus on how shallow Biden's support ever was. He was merely a vessel to beat Trump among most of those who voted for him. No Biden stans.
Great piece that highlights the complexity of presidential politics using the lens of Aristotle's ideas of tragedy. Though Lilly Goren is focusing on POTUS tragedy, I wonder whether Hillary is also a tragic figure and whether Aristotle (generally lacking in insights with regard to gender) has insights there.