[First, a big thanks to Kevin and the TAS crew for inviting me on board.]

I�€™ve got some good news and bad news. Good news first you say? Bush�€™s first term is finally over. The bad news . . . well, you know the bad news �€“ it is inauguration day after all. But say what you will about the first term, it was epic in scope. It dealt with weighty, world-historical issues of war and peace, with a strange dose of Freudian paternal conflict thrown in for good measure. In short, the first Bush term at times assumed Shakespearian dimensions (mostly tragic). Today, rather than moan and brood about the inauguration (I�€™ll be doing that at home), I thought it might be interesting to ask the question of what Shakespeare play (or character) best captures Bush and/or the Bush administration. I list some candidates below, though I�€™d welcome other suggestions.

Before I dive in, let me very briefly explain what I mean by �€œShakespearian dimensions.�€� In my opinion, there are two aspects of Shakespeare�€™s plays that give them their greatness, or aesthetic-ness, or whatever you want to call it. First, all the plays involve the most basic (and at times primal) human emotions - lust; desire; jealousy; guilt; infatuation; grief. One reason the plays have endured is that they are, at bottom, about emotions that all humans feel (as opposed to the emotions of suburban alienation in films like �€œAmerican Beauty�€� which are more context-specific). Second, all the plays involve major world players �€“ kings; queens; generals; etc. What�€™s cool is that the conflicts in the plays involve the intersection of the two. In Shakespeare�€™s plays, simple human emotion triggers major world consequences (because of the types of players involved). For example, MacBeth�€™s intoxication for power affects an entire kingdom. For a more modern example, you could say that Clinton�€™s impeachment was also �€œShakespearian�€� in the sense that his lust dragged him �€“ and the country �€“ down.

But anyway, on to the candidates. . .

Hamlet.

I think it�€™s safe to scratch this one off. Tortured introspection in the face of a cruel reality is not exactly the best way to describe this administration. If Hamlet is relevant to our question, it�€™s only because it so perfectly captures the opposite of this administration�€™s essence.

MacBeth.

The easiest comparison to make with MacBeth is that Bush was driven by an evil lust for power to do very bad things. I don�€™t think that�€™s right. It�€™s too simple. The truth is a bit more nuanced. For instance, what I find interesting about MacBeth is the way it combines intoxication with ambition (and the way everything happens at night). It�€™s not so much that MacBeth was evil. It�€™s more that he got a certain vision into his uber-ambitious head (himself as King) and the vision intoxicated him and drove him to murder. After the murder, regular vision returned as the cosmos (and his mind) slowly turned against him.

I think something similar happened in the lead-up to Iraq. The six-month lead-up to war was an irrational frenzy. I think that the administration got intoxicated by the vision of conquering Iraq, of being war leaders, of vindicating (or overcoming) the first Bush, of pounding the Democrats, or whatever. They were so sure it was right that they were willing to twist and ignore contrary evidence. Good sense was lost in the fumes of ambition, or the �€œheat-oppressed brain,�€� as MacBeth called it. And now, with failure looming, regular vision is returning as the situation in Iraq slowly turns against us.

Othello.

This is one of the most interesting parallels, for reasons that are related to the pre-Iraq intoxication. One of the themes in Othello is the way that emotion affects our perception of external events. It�€™s sort of like children seeing monsters in the bedroom shadows. The children are scared to be in the dark room alone. Because they�€™re scared, their fear causes them to perceive monsters where none exists. In Othello, Iago plants the seed of doubt and jealousy in Othello�€™s mind. He makes him think his wife is cheating on him. Being the jealous person he is, Othello starts interpreting the world through that prism �€“ everything he sees reinforces his initial feeling. In other words, he sees monsters in the shadow. This is a familiar theme and it can be seen in everything from the recent movie Mystic River to Jane Austen�€™s Pride and Prejudice.

I think we witnessed something similar in the lead-up to Iraq. The administration strongly desired to go to war (for various reasons). Their desire led them to connect the various data points in ways that they shouldn�€™t have. Obviously, people like Feith and Cheney were just lying, but I suspect others were letting their emotions get the better of their perceptive powers. The failure to find WMDs became proof that Saddam was hiding WMDs. Trailers became weapons labs. Shadows became monsters, and so forth.

Another Othello angle is that Bush, like Othello, was insecure. He knew that others around him knew a lot more about foreign policy than he did. Cheney played Iago in that he probably knew how to exploit this insecurity and play Bush like a fiddle (and to appeal to Bush�€™s own sense of himself as a divinely-appointed man of History). Bush was told exactly what he was needed to be told to get the desired effect.

Henry IV/Henry V.

The �€œHenry IV trilogy�€� most likely provides the best parallel with Bush the individual, though I think people don�€™t get that parallel exactly right. The story of Prince Hal (who eventually becomes King Henry) is the familiar story of a privileged wayward youth who likes to frequent taverns, but who eventually gets it together and becomes a great king.

Pundits such as Maureen Dowd have compared Bush to Prince Hal. The way people generally think about it is as follows: �€œdrunk privileged kid straightens up and becomes powerful.�€� That�€™s not altogether wrong, but it leaves out a lot. It�€™s not that Bush is like Hal because he was a drunk and then straightened up. One of the themes of the Henry IV trilogy is that Hal uses what he learns from his tavern days �€“ especially from Falstaff (one of the greatest characters in Western literature) �€“ to become great. More specifically, he learns �€œwit�€� and the power of language from Falstaff and uses those insights to understand the common people and to persuade them with rallying, inspiring speeches (such as the Saint Crispin�€™s Day speech in Henry V). Part of Shakespeare�€™s genius is that you don�€™t know if the Henry’s speech is sincere or merely a linguistic trick to get people to fight for him (just like you don�€™t if Shakespeare admires Romeo & Juliet�€™s love or thinks they�€™re silly infatuated teenagers).

Anyway, I think Bush is like Hal because he has clearly incorporated lessons from his wayward days, and used them effectively to gain power. It�€™s rather amazing that so many blue-collar workers love this blue blood who is transferring the tax burden from rich people to them. But Bush has learned the language, and he has learned the way everyday people think about things. Like Hal, his wayward days were full of valuable lessons.

So in the end, I�€™d have to vote for the Henry IV trilogy. But if anyone else has any other candidates (or other angles that I missed), I�€™d love to hear your thoughts.