The Seduction of Public Leadership: Principles of Morality for Christian Leaders, by Stephen M. King

Editor’s note: Much has happened since Professor King wrote this article in March 2000. The principles he outlines, however, are as applicable today as when it was first published on the Pneuma Foundation website.

Public leadership has greatly diminished in societal value, primarily because it is based less upon moral and religious foundations of civil society, and more upon political expediency of policy issues. Institutionalized civil leadership has suffered because many public leaders, even within the highest elected offices of the nation, have all but abdicated social responsibility and moral rectitude in favor of political advantage and personal gain. When this occurs—and it has happened many times over the course of human events—political crises inevitably result, and the consequences generally rock the foundations of civil society. Today more than ever moral leadership is captured within the tantalizing grip of political seduction.

Political crises are not new. Starting at the infancy of the United States there was the XYZ Affair of 1798 (which eventually led to an undeclared naval war between France and the United States), Ben Franklin’s bastard children, whom he sired while serving as ambassador to France, the alleged sex scandal involving Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hemings, one of Jefferson’s slaves, who gave birth to a son, Easton Hemings, the Whiskey Ring, a national internal revenue scandal revealed in 1875, the infamous Teapot Dome scandal of the 1920s, the graft and corruption of New York’s Tammany Hall, John F. Kennedy’s many sexual affairs, Richard Nixon’s Watergate, Reagan’s Irangate, and the various and diverse escapades of Bill Clinton—all should serve notice that political life is full of the sordid and dastardly deeds of historical politicos. Indeed, it seems a perpetual truism that persons of political power and influence have always engaged in actions speaking less of moral character and more of political expediency, even leaders as diverse as Louis XIV, Henry VIII, or Julius Caesar. Bearing all this in mind, let us examine what the Bible has to say about political scandal or crisis, public or private revelation of the scandal, the eventual political fallout, and the hard lessons to be learned.

One hallmark of the Bible is that it paints its heroes with brutally honest strokes. Nothing is held back. In a style that is most often painfully abrupt, it neither minces words nor waxes eloquent about its protagonists, but presents them with all the faults and foibles inherent in the human condition. Take, for example, the Biblical character David, the archetypal king and Messianic prototype. Scripture makes no apology for depicting not only his triumphs but also his dark side. Yet the Bible goes on to call him “a man after God’s own heart.” To be sure, the Biblical David was a fundamentally flawed, occasionally pathetic individual who vacillated between lust, megalomania, mental instability, and eventually personal misery. David is a case study in the socio-religious and political consequences of serious weakness of character and faulty judgment, as well as an example of a truly repentant leader, who suffered through the severe personal, social, and political problems resulting from his commission of sin.

King David—as do most, if not all, political leaders—exhibited a roller coaster range of emotions, particularly during difficult times of political decision making including, sharp and zealous anger at the Philistines for laughing at the sacredness of God in the form of the Ark, and at his fellow Israelites for wallowing in fear at the sight of Goliath; humility while being anointed by Samuel as king; and lust in his adulterous relationship with Bathsheba. He later shed tears over the death of Absalom, a deceitful son who nearly succeeded in seizing the kingship from him, but did nothing to avenge the rape of his daughter, Tamar. Too often, historians portray a one-sided David: either exceptionally spiritual, God-fearing, and humble—which he was—or a power hungry Machiavellian antagonist who used any measure, draconian or otherwise, to achieve his military and political successes, and was a man given to deceit, lying, and fulfilling his sexual passion—which he did as well. Neither extreme is entirely accurate, but both describe the human aspects of David, and of many other modern public officials. And both aid us in extracting from David’s character those traits that best depict the genuine composite of his person.

This essay will illustrate a leader who was both a man and a king; the honor and prestige of the latter was susceptible to the avarices of the former, including the events leading up to and going beyond the adulterous affair with Bathsheba (henceforth known as ‘Bathshebagate’). Bathshebagate represents a direct and telling crisis both in his “personal” as well as his “public” life, in which the inability or unwillingness to control his actions in the “personal” realm ultimately unleashed a torrent of problems upon David in the “public” environment. The same story—that of the pompous elected “king” abusing and misusing his political authority—has been retold many times, in various and sometimes differing degrees, such as with Richard Nixon and Watergate and more recently with Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. Only because of David’s humility, ultimately his willingness to listen to his trusted confidant and courageous prophet, Nathan, and his personal love for God did David survive the onslaught of negative repercussions, including decreased public support and internal political conspiracies by trusted advisors to strip him of his kingship. How have our modern leaders fared? Do the lessons of King David and Bathshebagate tell us anything about the political seduction of power, and how to avoid its tentacles of deception? If so, have we heeded the warning? If we have not, are we prepared for the consequences?

David’s early successes as king may first be attributable to the contention that he served not only as king or ruler, but also as judge. According to Jewish standards, a judge is one who dispenses justice based upon absolute principles of right and wrong, principles indelibly marked in the heart of man and codified in the Mosaic law. In I Samuel 8, the people demanded a king, one who rightly performs the principal function of the king: to judge righteously. With Saul, the people endured a ruthless despot, one who consistently and malevolently used the army for military retribution. David, however, was both a “victorious redeemer,” aided by God, and a dispenser of justice and righteousness to all the people, including such actions as the restoration of Mephibosheth, Saul’s crippled grandson, to the king’s house, and the use of capital punishment against two siblings for wrongly taking the life of Ish-Bosheth. So, David’s propensity for distributing justice included performing ethical and moral-based deeds for particular individuals, to meting out international justice through his military successes, and generally dispensing judicial, social, and even economic righteousness.

A second primary area of David’s successes before Bathshebagate revolved around his garnering and maintaining public support, personal friendships, and political loyalties, particularly after his conquest of Goliath. David was showered with praises by the Israelite women; he developed strong personal relationships with Jonathan, Saul’s son, his own band of guerrilla fighters, and Achish, an older mentor. Above all else, he maintained strong professional ties, especially with Joab, his army general; with Ahithophel, his private counsel (at least until he abandoned David to conspire with Absalom); and with Zadok, David’s trusted friend and faithful priest. Some of these relationships were extended to David in part for selfish gain, such as with Joab. Others, however, such as with Zadok and Jonathan, were established and maintained over time.

Bathshebagate; however, interrupted David’s political and military successes, as well as his personal life and relationships; it became a notable point of crisis, a point which tested the true moral identity and character of David. How did he respond to this test? What kind of leader was David after Bathshebagate? How does Bathshebagate, and more importantly David’s response to the political crisis, help us evaluate modern day political scandals and leaders, and their ability to lead (or not lead) after the advent of a crisis?

Bathshebagate included a sexual tryst and murder; Watergate included deceit, lies, and criminal charges of obstruction of justice; and Clintongate involves alleged abuse of presidential authority through an adultress affiar with a 25 year old White House intern named Monica Lewinsky. Each of these leadership crisises points involved a pattern, a cycle, if you will: 1) the commission of sin or criminal act; 2) confrontation of the sin or crime; 3) confession and repentance of sin or crime, or the denial of sin or crime; and 4) the suffering of consequences of the sin or crime, the severity of which is largely determined by the action of the person involved, that is, whether he confessed and repented, or whether he denied any part or action in the sin or crime (i.e. he tried covering up). A cursory examination of each crisis will reveal this cycle in action, and show that long-term negative effects upon the stability and continued effectiveness of leadership are enacted.

Bathshebagate occurred when David’s military and political successes were at their zenith. He endured the deaths of both his friend, Jonathan, and his former king, Saul, and was able to re-establish himself among the people as the anointed ruler who was to replace Saul. David’s powerful yet friendly personality, shrewd and politically wise decisions, and his overall multiplicity of roles contributed to his profound humanness. David reached the pinnacle of public leadership success, yet succumbed to the lustful side of human passions—in this case adultery and finally murder before he was confronted by the prophet Nathan. Let us first look briefly at the events of Bathshebagate, and then turn our attention to modern day crises.

Instead of doing what Middle Eastern kings of this day did—leading his army into battle—David opted to stay behind. David goes up on the roof of his palace; his sees a lovely young lady, unattired, bathing on her own rooftop. Propriety might have dictated that the king divert his gaze and see to it that he not succumb to lustful cravings. Alas, he looks, he stares, and he lusts. At this point, the religious reader is inclined to wag his head in scornful contempt at such a salacious activity and conclude that David has, at this moment, fallen from grace. He has committed adultery of the heart. After all, the scriptures say, “Whoever looks at a woman to lust after her has committed adultery already in his heart.” But we must realize, when it comes to King David, that we are dealing with ancient Hebrew culture, and unlike the Greek where lust indicates a mental process, to the Hebrew mind it is only the intent to carry out a specific action that is under scrutiny. It is simple: a man first sees, then converts thought into intention, and carries intention out physically. It is not the thought itself that is sin, but it is the intention—the plotting and planning to carry it out. And this, according to Jewish tradition, is where David failed.

Failing to induce Bathsheba’s husband Uriah to sleep with his wife so as to hide David’s sin, he now plots Uriah’s death. As commander-in-chief, David sends Uriah to the front line of battle, knowing that he will not return alive. David’s lust is his action, and his action is his lust. For in his plotting to cover-up a sexual encounter with Bathsheba, he has become, in point of fact, a conspirator to murder, and engaged in the propensity to lie in order to hide his actions.

Uriah, of course, is killed, and David, abusing his kingly powers and prerogative, takes Bathsheba for his wife. Perhaps no one would have been the wiser had it not been for the fact that the governmental system of the ancient Israelite kingdom had its own system of checks and balances. In spite of fairly unlimited power and authority, an Israelite monarch was not absolute, nor could he completely run roughshod over his subjects. Granted, there was no constitutional republican form of government, complete with a written constitution, and enforced by power of the law, no popular legislative body, no Supreme Court. There was, however, an office, divinely instituted, to which nominees were confirmed or commissioned by God. It was the office of the prophet, and the select few who occupied it were usually concerned not so much with foretelling the future as with forth telling the present. The role of the prophet was to serve, among other functions, as the conscience of the king and as an unimpeachable voice of moral authority and rectitude.

And so it happens that David is approached by Conscience personified in the person of the prophet Nathan. Bear in mind that Nathan is not a reporter for the New York Times or the Washington Post, nor is he out to scoop the networks by unraveling the scandal of the century. On the contrary, his approach is what we would call low key: he simply marches himself into the king’s presence and proceeds to reveal to David, the king, his sin through the use of a parable. David, for his part, does not recognize that the story is fictitious, and he listens intently. Nathan tells of a poor man who owned just one ewe lamb. In the same town lived a rich man with a great many lambs. When a traveler came and the rich man wished to serve the traveler dinner, he confiscated and slaughtered the poor man’s ewe lamb rather than one of his own. Immediately, David, enraged by the facts, pronounces that the wealthy man who did this deed deserves to die and that his estate should compensate the poor man four times over.

The entire scene is; however, a clever contrivance of the prophet to lure David into condemning himself, for Nathan proceeds to announce that David is that rich man. David has an entire kingdom, including many wives and concubines, but he coveted Bathsheba. Nathan pronounces judgment on David, saying, “You struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword and took his wife to be your own…Now, therefore, the sword will never depart from your house…” In an instant, David’s sinful action is uncovered and the intentions of his heart laid bare. It is political scandal par excellence, the likes of which even modern politicians could not even begin to match. It is Bathshebagate!

David, for his part, is undone. “I have sinned against the Lord,” he confesses. When the un-named child born to David and Bathsheba is stricken with illness, David refuses all nourishment and lies prostrate on the ground symbolizing total self-abasement. After the child’s death, David arises, washes himself, and eats. While the child was sick, there was hope he would regain health, but now that he is dead, David goes on with life. His repentance brings self-purgation; however, it does not alleviate him of accepting not only personal but national responsibility for his actions. His personal life is affected; his public life is as well. For God the former greatly affects the direction and impetus of the latter.

David’s leadership up to Bathshebagate seemed flawless. He honored both God and man; he acted justly in his decisions, because he maintained a standard of morality based upon the edicts and laws of the Mosaic covenant, a standard greater than the political system he ruled in. However, with the commission of the crimes of adultery (a personal act) and conspiracy to commit murder (a public act), David breaks his covenant relationship with God and is forced either to justify himself and his actions through more lies and deceit, or to confess and accept the judgment of God. He, of course, wisely chooses the latter.

What did David gain through confession? Did he avert the judgment of God and sidestep the consequences of his crimes? No. The judgment was final and carried out completely. Direct and indirect consequences of his acts included the death of the un-named child; the rape of daughter Tamar; the murder of step-son Amnon; Absalom’s conspiracy, including his public rape of David’s concubines; the slaying of Absalom by Joab; and the war of succession between two of David’s other sons, Adonijah and Solomon, with Solomon finally succeeding. Modern scandals, including Watergate and Clintongate, and their resulting consequences seem tame in comparison, at least compared to Bashebagate’s intensity of action and ultimate consequences.

Bathshebagate set in motion the decay and eventual deinstitutionalization of David’s leadership. He became leader of crisis rather than a leader of authority, constantly repairing and maintaining the breaches brought on by his crimes, instead of systematically and strategically establishing and meeting policy goals with the full force and influence of his kingly office. Legitimate use of political power is based on the use of authority, which is derived from a covenant with a higher power. When this agreement is disannulled, the leader is guilty of breach of trust and thus leadership is one of crisis and not prudence.

Responsible Confrontation

Now, compare and contrast the way this Biblical crisis was handled with more recent crises, including Watergate and Clintongate. Again, political crisis is nothing new, but the way it is dealt with has changed dramatically in recent decades. Moreover, it has changed for the worse. Watergate was the watershed political crisis of the 20th century. This is not because it was more insidious or devious than the others, but because it brought down a sitting president. Further, it was a watershed because since then the reporting of a political scandal has become as important, or even more important, than the scandal itself. The reporter or reporters, a la Woodward and Bernstein of Watergate fame, wields substantial and generally unchecked power in the coverage and revelation of the facts.

Thus, we have a significant difference in the ground rules of reporting in the pre- and post-Watergate eras. Before Watergate, the underlying assumption was that a public official’s, especially a politician’s, personal actions or character traits had little to do with managing the affairs of state. In fact, as Bill Clinton remarked in one of those October 1992 debates with President Bush, “solving policy issues is more important, and is what the people of the U.S. want, than answering questions about one’s personal character.” Was Clinton correct? Some may ask, for example, was John F. Kennedy less capable of confronting Fidel Castro and Nikita Kruschev because he was rumored to have had secret liaisons with Marilyn Monroe? Did his extra-marital cavorting somehow make him incapable during the Berlin airlift crisis, or somehow spineless and incapacitated in his determination to win the space race with the Soviets? Is Bill Clinton less able to conduct the domestic and international policy business of government when he is alleged to have sexual encounters with Monica Lewinsky at the White House? The American people don’t think so, at least when it comes time to evaluate his performance on the job. News media polls have consistently shown high marks for Clinton’s job performance (even after the release of the Ken Starr report to the Internet in early September 1998) despite comparatively low numbers for actions and behavior in his personal life. So it seems that the American people can somehow separately evaluate President Clinton’s personal behavior from his public actions, and be convinced that the former does not affect the latter. Our analysis, however, of King David has shown otherwise.

In the case of Watergate, there was a story—of campaign dirty tricks involving a break-in at Democratic National Headquarters at the Watergate complex in Washington D.C.—which was subsequently leaked to the press. The story was then carried in headlines and feature articles across the country, with embarrassing and potentially devastating consequences for President Nixon’s reelection bid. This, of course, prompted the cover-up—the attempt, launched from the Oval Office, to squelch the investigation of the burglary. In fact, information released from interviews with Nixon prior to his death in 1994 revealed that Nixon did in fact realize his actions were wrong, and that upon retrospection he should have confronted the problem before allowing it to progress as it did.

In Clintongate (i.e. the Monica Lewinsky White House sex scandal), President Clinton consistently denied any wrongdoing of any kind, until mid-August 1998 when he made a politically-motivated effort at apologizing for certain “acts” of misconduct, allegedly sexual in nature. Up to his August national “apology” he emphatically denied any sexual involvement with Monica Lewinsky, and denied having compelled top aides or friends, such as Vernon Jordan, of convincing Ms. Lewinsky of lying. The Special Independent Prosecutor Kenneth Starr’s long and drawn out investigation of not only the Whitewater matter but also the Monica Lewinsky escapade have raised the ire of the Democrats as well as some Republicans and a goodly percentage of the American people. However, after the Starr report was released via the electronic cyber-space library, the Internet, Clinton has flown around the country making selected stops along the way and attempting to curry political favor by engaging in what some are considering phony fixations of repentance. Most recently this calvacade of contrived contrition has even included a White House staged prayer session complete with 100 selected clergy from all denominations, but primarily liberal mainline Protestant types, who were to go back to their pulpits with a message to their confused flock of forgiveness and mercy toward the fallen leader. And where does the media, especially the national media, stand in all of this?

Well, let us notice the essential differences between Watergate and Clintongate and Bathshebagate. First, in Bathshebagate, who breaks the story? Who leaks the sordid details to the public? Where are Woodward and Bernstein, Sam and Cokie, the Internet, or their ancient counterparts? We only have the dutiful and loyal prophet, Nathan, who was instructed by God Himself to confront David with his sin. In Watergate, there was John Dean, the special White House counsel under President Nixon, who spoke frankly with the President and uttered his now infamous line, “there is a cancer on the presidency, and it is growing.” Haldeman, Erhlichman, and Colson, all close confidants of President Nixon, were forced to testify, either directly or indirectly, in front of the Senate committee investigating Watergate, and were fighting to salvage their own careers and reputation, and were thus no help to the President. In addition, the Washington Post, led by two zealous reporters, and other major national media outlets became part of the story. And with Clintongate, a career administrative aide, who formerly worked in the Bush administration, and was also secretary to White House counsel Bernard Nussbaum, Linda Tripp, spilled the story by going to Whitewater prosecutor Kenneth Starr’s office with information concerning tape recordings she made secretly between herself and a young White House intern from California named Monica Lewinsky. From that point it has been nearly front page headlines every day.

With Bathshebagate, though, the media details are insignificant. Notice what Nathan does not do. He does not write down the crime and circulate it among the citizenry. He does not approach the elders of the city or announce his judgment in the town square. His intention is not to be the town crier, to elicit or cull public attitude, and he apparently has no desire to profit personally. His end is not to embarrass the king but to bring him to repentance. From the Bible’s brief account, we are led to conclude that Nathan went to David only and that he rebuked him privately. And it was here, in this short but private encounter with the prophet of God, that the highest ranking official in all of ancient Israel, the king himself, came face-to-face with his own reality. In the modern American political arena, press and president have often shared a mutually adversarial relationship, a “love-hate” relationship, if you will; but there is no animus in II Samuel between prophet and king—only an atmosphere of responsible confrontation.

Responsible Purgation

Here, in Bathshebagate, as opposed to most modern political scandals or crises, such as Watergate and Clintongate, David is caught by the force of his own logic, and he is without excuse. He is no Teflon monarch, nor does he try to be; the charge sticks. Think again, however, about the parallel to Watergate and Clintongate. Should David continue the cover-up? Should he try to silence Nathan, permanently? Amazingly, David makes no attempt to bribe Nathan, or to have him arrested or even executed, all of which would have been within the purview of an absolutist ruler. Rather, David is ingenuous, even transparent, acknowledging his transgression before his accuser. He makes no public confession nor is he compelled to. His sin has been “against the Lord,” and this is how his confession is framed.

With Watergate and Clintongate, confession and interpersonal, even spiritual transparency, was not the first consideration—cover-up is. Denial, word twisting, legal maneuvering, political wrangling and lies are the norm. Why? Well, one might say because both Nixon and Clinton knew they were guilty and in order to buy precious political time they stonewalled the proceedings. (In the case of Clintongate, the hope is to drag the entire investigation into and past the November elections, hope for a Democrat takeover in the House, and then with re-assumption of the control of the House Judiciary Committee, to defuse the process, and possibly even lobby for a quick end to the Starr proceedings. With the release of the Starr report and the word from the hill that impeachment proceedings will begin soon, a quick end in favor of President Clinton seems highly unlikely). The point to be made is that “responsible purgation,” although it may sound spiritually corny, and immediate resignation in the case of President Clinton, is the only true and viable alternative, not only for the betterment of civil society—for example, to help squelch the growing political cynicism and distrust among the citizenry—but for the personal and soulish renewal of those who committed the acts or crime.

Furthermore, the terse phrase recorded in II Samuel is not the end of David’s repentance; to this historical account must be added his lengthy self-cleansing of the soul, found in Psalm 51, where David appeals to his God by saying in part, “Have mercy on me…blot out my transgressions…cleanse me…and I will be clean… Just as impressive, however, as David’s attitude of repentance, is the fact that the prophet accepts it, saying in another phrase: “The Lord also has put away your sin.” David is not to die as punishment for Uriah’s murder, but his son is to die, his daughter raped, the son who raped her killed by another son, who will later embark on an unsuccessful coup attempt, and then himself be killed, as well as the political machinations continuing unabated and unbridled, until David is described in I Kings as a lowly, sullen, and even defeated man. However, even in his last days he has words of wisdom for his son Solomon, words that ring forth with clarity, conscience, and commitment. He admonishes Solomon, as king, to uphold the Higher Law, and not to fulfill the lustful desires of his heart (which Solomon did not obey), or deception and destruction would surely follow (which they did). In other words, in allowing David to live, God affords him a much better opportunity to repent and admonish his successor than if he were to simply die. This Biblical account strongly suggests that personal righteousness is far greater to God than holding on to personal political power.

The modern Watergate and Clintongate-conscious reader is left wondering, though: Where is the justice in all of this? Shouldn’t David be unseated, dethroned, and impeached?! There should be a veritable witch hunt. Uncover the scandal, get to the bottom of everything; let the citizenry know, for it is their constitutional right to know. Perhaps God knows something we do not—that if perfection were the plumb line by which all leaders are measured, we would not have any leaders. Possibly, the Bible is ultimately less vindictive than are we progressive modernists. Perhaps God understands the difference between true Godly judgment and ungodly condemnation. Even though David is told that his kingdom will be racked by war and insurrection as a result of his sin, and that his household would endure the pain described above; he is still allowed to rule.

Conclusion

What political and moral lessons can we learn from this expose of King David and its comparison to modern political crises such as Watergate and Clintongate? Several modern theorists of leadership studies contend that a ‘moral ethic’ is critical and even necessary before prudential leadership, not crisis leadership, is carried out. James McGregor Burns argues that while leadership must be both transactional (i.e. exchanging of resources) and transforming (i.e.determining personal desires), he is concerned that leadership, if separated from ethical parameters, is merely a form of management, and politics deteriorates to simple methodological technique. It is leadership guru Warren Bennis who has more recently argued that the most successful leaders are those who are both introspective and client-oriented. Further, Leighton Ford calls for a transformational leadership style tailored after the teachings of Jesus Christ; a leadership style which fully commits, instructs, and ultimately empowers followers. So, what principles can we learn and apply?

The first principle to glean is that successful public leadership is less dependent upon bipartisan approval of ideological whims and ideas, successful political arm twisting, political cajolery and one-upmanship, than it is upon the fulfillment of ideas and decisions based upon Judeo-Christian morality, social responsibility, servanthood, and fulfillment of the judicial ethic. Although David was anything but the epitome of virtue, he possessed a humble heart. He recognized personal failing not as a rationalization for ineptitude but as an admission of selflessness.

A second principle, as the actions of Nathan demonstrated, is that private confrontation of error is far more important than continual evasion and even denial of the revealed facts. The consequences of David’s sin were evident in the judgment of his actions. But one says, “This is the United States of America in 1998. We have the First Amendment of the Constitution which guarantees its citizens freedom of press. Further, we are a republican democracy, governed both by law and majority (and plurality) vote, not an authoritarian Middle Eastern regime. There are no comparisons here.” This is correct in the understanding of the differences between ancient Israel and modern U.S. forms of government. It is incorrect, though, in the misunderstanding that the human condition has not changed over the last four to five thousand years, and that transcendent principles of the Judeo-Christian ethic are still very much applicable. Sin is sin. Crime is crime. Whether based upon Mosaic, Roman, or British common law, crime is punishable.

It is not. This reveals the third principle: that all three political and personal crises—Bathshebagate, Watergate, and Clintongate—demonstrate aptly that consequences of sin are inevitable and inescapable despite, and sometimes because of, attempts to deny, hide, or rationalize the committed sin. [The verdict is still out on Clintongate. As of this writing, however, the pressure of continued stalling, cajoling, and evading by the Clinton administration of the press, the Republicans, and ultimately the American citizenry appears to be at a standstill. Still, President Clinton continues to defy his harshest critics by maintaining respectable polling numbers for job performance. (Of course, his critics argue that the public is so content that the economy is running along at a good clip that the President could do just about anything he chose and still be acceptable in the eyes of the public.)] Regardless of the impending verdict in the finality of Clintongate, admission of guilt does not excuse the criminal or immoral action, but it does provide something less tangible and more beneficial for all parties involved: a clear acceptance of right and wrong and good and bad based upon Judeo-Christian principles.

A fourth principle—and it is more an admonition than a principle per se—is that leaders must surround themselves with a Prophetic Conscience. Again, for many that may sound spiritually extreme, but it is both Biblically-based, intellectually worthy, and policy sound. Political science professor Neil Reimer has written about the effects of the politically ‘prophetic,’ and touted its influence upon the policy and decision making processes alike. It is certainly Biblically-based and policy sound, as evidenced by the example of Rehoboam, the son of Solomon, who in I Kings assumes the throne. However, in doing so he surrounds himself with the “prophetic” voices who told him what he wanted to hear, as opposed to those “prophetic” voices which counseled against his despotic actions involving forced conscription and the continued implementation of heavy taxes upon the people. Likewise, modern leaders such as Nixon and Clinton surround themselves mostly with handpicked friends who devote themselves to protecting the President, and giving their “undying” loyalty to his beliefs and mission, while knowingly or, in some rare instances, unknowingly steering clear of the truth. This is not true loyalty—true loyalty is based upon the Judeo-Christian tradition and law of servanthood. Rather, it is misdirected and self-serving protection from outside forces. It is typified, for example, in a Bob Haldeman, the head of Richard Nixon’s inner cadre, the point man for all inner White House operations which directly concerned the President, who wielded unprecedented power and influence over all who might come into contact with President Nixon. It is also inherent in close personal aides to President Clinton who, before they realized they were lied to by the President, initially refused to speak candidly before the Starr grand jury probing into Clintongate, forever shielding their boss from any media barrage or criminal counts that would be forthcoming if their testimony revealed information inconsistent and contradictory with previous statements made by the President or individuals who previously testified. It is actions such as these which when ultimately revealed, such as in the Watergate scandal and in the Clintongate crisis, dampen the spirits of even the most ardent supporters of our government institutions and the leaders we place in office. As is evident in Watergate, however, the Constitution works. The system of checks and balances and separation of powers worked, but at the price of the resignation of a sitting president. Must it be called upon to work again?

The Prophetic Conscience is the ultimate check and balance method. It is like a divine lighthouse, which sends a shaft of truth into a black swirling mass of lies and deceit. The $64,000 question becomes, of course, who or what is to be this Prophetic Conscience? The national media? Hardly. And bureaucracies, meanwhile, make little room for job occupations titled ‘Prophet.’ The point is this: yes, every decision maker must keep close trusted confidants next to himself. But that same confidant must also be prepared to correct, possibly even rebuke, his superior when the occasion arises.

Return to our Biblical case study. Speculate as to the condition of David and his kingdom had he dismissed Nathan’s warning, or worse had had Nathan executed. What if Nixon, who when he found out about the break-in, immediately determined the circumstances surrounding the crime, learned of the perpetrators, dismissed all those who had anything to do with it, and revealed all facts and the analysis of those facts to congressional leaders? Might he still had to resign? Possibly, possibly not. What would have been the nation and Congress’ reaction had Clinton confessed to the wrong, even as early as January 1998? Full disclosure of wrongdoing does not nor should not grant immunity from penalty, but it goes a long way in our court system, for example, to enacting leniency and even reducing penalties.

Cynics may scoff at this warning and laugh at its naivete, and its overly simplistic approach to complex and even complicated political scenarios. It is cynicism, however, that now grips the American people and the governmental system they have come to distrust and even loathe. Studies are rampant which show that young people, ages 18-25, are consistently distrustful, mistrustful, and worse, cynical about the governmental and political system they live in and under. It is old-fashioned honesty, though—that honesty practiced by our forefathers—which when fused with the Judeo-Christian definition of morality, that can and will revive trust, loyalty, respect, and even endearment without compromise and truthfulness without breach of sincerity. It is genuine frankness with the American people and, yes, even the media which can defuse the suspicion which surrounds so many leaders. Finally, it is the Biblically-based servant’s mentality and attitude that must predominate in the art and science of decision-making, today. Servanthood breeds humility and humility breeds morality, without which true leadership is impotent.

Is morality, therefore, as important a factor as traits, behaviors, and situational environments in analyzing the scope of leadership, the effectiveness of leadership potential, and the interaction between leader and follower? Absolutely and unequivocally. In fact, it is more so. Morality or the lack thereof is the essence of personal character development (candidate Clinton’s remark in October 1992 to the contrary). Without the presence and impact of morality—morality not based upon humanistic ideas of right and wrong, but upon the Judeo-Christian foundation of right and wrong—leadership falls prey to any form of political seduction, and thus lacks the institutional virtue necessary to maintain societal longevity.

PR

Originally published on the Pneuma Foundation (parent organization of PneumaReview.com) website. Later included in the Winter 2025 issue.