Irrelevance of J.D. Vance to US foreign policy
Ambitious American politicians have long coveted the vice presidency only to regret their selection. Mike Pence is the most recent example. His absence from this year’s Republican National Convention recalls the words of Woodrow Wilson’s long-forgotten vice president, Thomas Marshall: “Once there were two brothers. One ran away to sea; the other was elected vice president. And nothing was ever heard of either of them again.” Fifteen vice presidents eventually became president, most often because their commander-in-chief died in office. Before those tragic transitions, many vice presidents were miserable: powerless, isolated, and largely ignored. They had little influence on policy — and foreign policy perhaps least of all. And there is little reason to think that the experience of Ohio Sen. J.D. Vance, former president Donald Trump’s selection for vice president in a second term, in office would be any different.
By Jeremi Suri
Scholar
John Adams, the nation’s first vice president, expressed the frustration voiced by many of his successors: “My country has in its wisdom contrived for me, the most insignificant office that ever the invention of man contrived or his imagination conceived.” Harry Truman, who barely saw president Franklin D. Roosevelt in his short period as vice president, commented that the office was “about as useful as a cow’s fifth teat”. One of his predecessors, John Nance Garner, who served as Roosevelt’s long-suffering vice president for two terms, famously complained that the office was “not worth a bucket of warm spit”. Garner later recounted that moving from speaker of the House of Representatives to the vice presidency was “the worst thing that ever happened to me”.
Vice presidents break ties in Senate votes, and they preside over the certification of a presidential election, but they have few other constitutional duties beyond staying alive. Since the ratification of the 12th Amendment to the Constitution in 1804, which allowed for a joint presidential-vice presidential ticket, they have almost always been chosen for symbolic political reasons — to appeal to a particular part of the electorate. But they generally have little influence over the president’s priorities and policy choices. Historically, the cabinet secretaries and policy advisors chosen by the commander-in-chief have had far greater power than vice presidents.
This is especially true in foreign policy. Secretaries of state, war, navy, and, since 1947, defense have historically managed day-to-day diplomatic and military affairs for the United States. Presidents have always leaned heavily on close confidants — Colonel House for Woodrow Wilson and Harry Hopkins for Franklin Roosevelt, for example. Since the early Cold War, they have also made use of a powerful special assistant for national security affairs in the White House, including McGeorge Bundy in the Kennedy administration and Henry Kissinger in the Nixon and Ford administrations. This special assistant has the advantage of daily contact with the president, and he or she becomes the executor of presidential preferences.
The accumulation of authority for cabinet secretaries and advisors creates a crowded White House, where the vice president’s voice in foreign policy is likely to get little consistent attention. Vice president Richard Nixon struggled with this during Dwight D. Eisenhower’s presidency, as did vice presidents Lyndon B. Johnson, Hubert Humphrey, Walter Mondale, and George H.W. Bush in subsequent administrations. In each case, vice presidents had little input on policy, and they were frequently dispatched to serve as symbolic diplomats at funerals and other foreign events. They showed an American presence overseas, but serious negotiations were generally conducted by diplomats, advisors, and the president himself.
The exception to this historical analysis was, of course, Vice president Dick Cheney, who served with president George W. Bush from 2001 to 2009. Cheney placed himself at the center of information flows and all major policy decisions in the White House. He was able to do this because Bush uniquely empowered him to play this role. In foreign policy and military matters, Cheney was often the last and most influential person to discuss a prospective decision with the president. He pushed particular proposals, including the invasion of Iraq, and he sidelined information and perspectives, especially doubts about weapons of mass destruction.
At key moments, Cheney made consequential unilateral decisions. On September 11, 2001, after terrorists turned civilian aircraft into destructive missiles, the vice president ordered military aircraft to shoot down any threatening commercial planes. Bush was still commander-in-chief, so the vice president did not have this constitutional authority. Bush soon thereafter confirmed Cheney’s orders, and, fortunately, they were never carried out.
Joe Biden, the vice president after Cheney, was a vocal contributor to Situation Room debates, particularly on the war in Afghanistan, and he notoriously clashed with secretary of defense Robert Gates and American military leaders. Biden, however, did not have significant influence over president Barack Obama’s foreign-policy decisions. Biden often traveled on behalf of the president to Ukraine, Israel, and other regions, but his role was more diplomatic than strategic.
The same can be said for Trump’s vice president. Pence attended most national security meetings. He talked frequently with Trump about matters ranging from policy toward NATO, Russia, and China to issues surrounding trade, terrorism, and, of course, COVID-19. There is little evidence, however, that Pence shifted the policy directions of the administration. National security advisors H.R. McMaster and John Bolton, and secretaries of defense Jim Mattis and Mark Esper, appear to be the figures who did the most to discipline (or try to discipline) the president’s policies. Before the certification of Biden’s election on January 6, 2021, Pence was not shaping the Trump administration policies.
We can expect that Vance, if elected, will play a similar role in another Trump White House, and he will be even more deferential than Pence to presidential demands. Vance will surely insist on attending cabinet, National Security Council, and Situation Room meetings. He will cultivate a close personal relationship with the president and make himself a ubiquitous presence in the Oval Office. His ties in Congress are weak due to his very short tenure in the Senate, and his connections within federal agencies, particularly the Pentagon and State Department, are also limited.
Vance will rely on power and relevance coming from the president, not his title as vice president. That will reinforce his tendency to echo Trump, rather than lead on policy issues. Vance is unlikely to spend time becoming a real expert on controversies surrounding Ukraine or Iran or China, where the president already has strong commitments and the work of modifying policy would be difficult and politically risky. As vice president, Vance’s personal views will matter very little, and he is likely to reinforce Trump’s prejudices, not set any unique direction for US foreign policy.
With the exception of Cheney, vice presidents never have been major policymakers. They are political symbols and mirrors of the president. Vance’s selection, like those of his predecessors, tells us more about the politics of our moment than about any influence he might have in this role. Voters understand this, which explains why they rarely place great weight on the opinions of the vice president. He or she matters for what the selection tells us about the person at the top of the ticket. Vice-presidential views of policy are only important in the occasional circumstances when that figure ascends to the highest office.
If elected, Vance will be what Mondale called “standby equipment”. Adams anticipated the limited but necessary role of this curious office: “I am vice president. In this, I am nothing, but I may be everything.” Ambitious politicians, like Vance, will always covet the role as a potential stepping stone, not a policymaking position.
The article first appeared
on Foreign Policy.