PROLOGUE

December 12, 2006

"You can't possibly figure out the history of the Bush presidency -- until I'm dead."

George W. Bush slipped a piece of cheese into his mouth. "Let's order first." He took a quick glance at the day's menu prepared for him and his guest, saw nothing on it he cared for, and announced to the steward, "I'll have a hot dog. Low fat hot dog."

Then he slapped down the menu and asked, "What is the purpose of this book?"

He was edgy that day. Earlier that morning, Bush had decided that a major address slotted for next week was going to have to wait another month. The subject was Iraq, and he was, frankly, unsure of what to say on the subject. A bipartisan commission called the Iraq Study Group -- cochaired by longtime Bush family consigliere James A. Baker III -- had recently returned its report, which had labeled that country's condition "grave and deteriorating." Progress in that ongoing conflict had been inchwise even before sectarian violence began to develop its awful momentum in the spring of 2006 and threaten to tear the country apart. Bush had repeatedly said that the war was winnable. He had said that the American-led Coalition was, in fact, winning. No one, including Bush, was claiming imminent victory anymore.

So, what to say? Bush was a quarterback now playing defense. Five weeks before, the Democrats had seized back the House and the Senate in an election that even Bush had to concede was to some degree a referendum on the tragic misadventures in Iraq. The Democrats, with public backing, were clamoring for a change in course. So was the Iraq Study Group. And so -- with their tongues freshly loosened by the resignation of Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld -- were the generals in whose trust Bush had placed the mission. Stung by this reality, Bush nonetheless was digging in his heels. The day after the midterms, he had announced his intention to replace Rumsfeld with Robert Gates. Beyond that, Bush would not veer in haste. He would take the holidays to think about it.

"If you're weak internally? This job will run you all over town," the president observed. He was sitting in the small conference room beside the Oval Office where his predecessor, Bill Clinton, infamously found leisure time with Monica Lewinsky. His back was to the White House lawn. He had flung himself into his chair like a dirty sweatshirt and continued to pop pieces of cheese into his mouth. Stress was hammered into his face. The subject was himself -- how his leadership skills had evolved over time, and how he had dealt with disappointment and defeat, going back to his loss to Senator John McCain in the New Hampshire primary of 2000 and now, once again, in 2006.

Bush, as always, bridled at the request to navel-gaze. "You're the observer," he said as he worked the cheese in his mouth. "I'm not. I really do not feel comfortable in the role of analyzing myself. I'll try. But I don't spend a lot of time. I will tell you, the primaries strip you down to your bare essence, and you get to determine whether or not you're willing to fight through -- to prevail. It's a real test of will, I agree to that. I think the whole process was responsible for testing my will. No question getting defeated was a powerful moment."

He added, "I've never run a race where I thought I wouldn't win. I thought we were gonna hold the House and the Senate in '06. I thought we'd lose nine or ten seats, and I thought we'd be one or two up in the Senate."

Bush had held that view, almost manic in its optimism, all the way up to election day, in defiance of all available polling data. At the very mention of such data, his face began to curdle. "I understand you can't let polls tell you what to think," he declared -- one of his most frequently expressed sentiments, but now he went further: "And part of being a leader is: people watch you. I walk in that hall, I say to those commanders -- well, guess what would happen if I walk in and say, 'Well, maybe it's not worth it.' When I'm out in the public" -- and now he was fully animated, yanked out of his slouch and his eyes clenched like little blue fists -- "I fully understand that the enemy watches me, the Iraqis are watching me, the troops watch me, and the people watch me.

"The other thing is that you can't fake it. You have to believe it. And I believe it. I believe we'll succeed."

In spite of his stated preference that he be viewed as a simple guy, Bush now and then would reveal subtle shadings or outright dualities in his character. Here he was, for example, saying that he would not be influenced by polls -- and then, a sentence later, saying that the job required acute consciousness of public perceptions. His father was better known for discretion and attention to appearances, Bush acknowledged. "My dad was one time speaking to the Press Club," he reminisced. "And the last question is always kind of a funny question: 'Why are you wearing a blue tie?' And he kind of balked. I whispered, 'Tell him you spilled gravy on your red one.'

"Now I don't know how that happened. It popped in my head. I didn't train for the quip. By the way: He said it, and the place went wild. And then -- typical George Bush -- he said, 'Well, my son told me that!' He had to share the credit, instead of taking it and running with it!"

Interest in the relationship between the 41st and 43rd presidents was unquenchable, for reasons historical, political, and Oedipal. Despite their mutual love and their common experiences -- which included such not-so-trifling matters as invading Iraq and appointing Dick Cheney to positions of high power -- they were two profoundly different men. Above all, George W. had long emphasized, he was his own man. Seldom did he call on his father as a useful executive resource.

"Yeah, I asked him about it," he said when the subject turned to choosing Cheney as his vice president. "He said, 'You'll like working with him.' My relationship with my dad is, y'know -- I don't call him and say, 'Give me your list of potential candidates, man!' Or, 'What are the five things you would do if you were me?' It's more, 'Y'know, I'm really thinking about Dick Cheney, Dad.' Or, 'I'm thinking about Bob Gates. You've worked with Bob Gates, what's he like?' He knows as an ex-president, he doesn't have nearly the amount of knowledge I've got on current things. I mean, I get briefed every day, twice a day sometimes. He knows that. And plus, once the president gets a strategy in mind -- I mean, there's no need to argue about the Freedom Agenda! I'm sure he subscribes to a lot of it. Now, the rumors are that he and his people don't. But I don't necessarily think it's true. But, look, you can't talk me out of thinking freedom's a good thing!"

His hot dog arrived. Bush ate rapidly, with a sort of voracious disinterest. He was a man who required comfort and routine. Food, for him, was fuel and familiarity. It was not a thing to reflect on.

"The job of the president," he continued, through an ample wad of bread and sausage, "is to think strategically so that you can accomplish big objectives. As opposed to playing mini-ball. You can't play miniball with the influence we have and expect there to be peace. You've gotta think, think BIG. The Iranian issue," he said as bread crumbs tumbled out of his mouth and onto his chin, "is the strategic threat right now facing a generation of Americans, because Iran is promoting an extreme form of religion that is competing with another extreme form of religion. Iran's a destabilizing force. And instability in that part of the world has deeply adverse consequences, like energy falling in the hands of extremist people that would use it to blackmail the West. And to couple all of that with a nuclear" -- as always, he pronounced it nu-ku-ler -- "weapon, then you've got a dangerous situation. ...That's what I mean by strategic thought. I don't know how you learn that. I don't think there's a moment where that happened to me. I really don't. I know you're searching for it. I know it's difficult. I do know -- y'know, how do you decide, how do you learn to decide things? When you make up your mind, and you stick by it -- I don't know that there's a moment, Robert. I really -- You either know how to do it or you don't. I think part of this is it: I ran for reasons. Principled reasons. There were principles by which I will stand on. And when I leave this office I'll stand on them. And therefore you can't get driven by polls. Polls aren't driven by principles. They're driven by the moment. By the nanosecond."

A moment later, press secretary Tony Snow stepped into the doorway and immediately assumed a deferential tone. "When I go in front of the press," he said, referring to the daily briefing he was about to conduct, "can I just say, 'We will not be giving the speech until the New Year'? I mean -- "

"The New Year," Bush cut in, "and the reason why is, the president still has other people to listen to, and there's a lot of work to be done on a very important task. And I think you oughta just say, 'He's gonna be very deliberate -- and listen, he's not gonna be rushed.' "

"Yeah," said Snow.

"And if their argument is, 'Well, what happens if there's an attack in Baghdad?' You can say, 'He talked to his commanders today, and there's a current strategy in place.' "

"Right."

"Of dealing, protecting -- whatever."

"Can we say you're moving in a direction and assigning tasks to people to try and work out -- there are hard political issues -- "

"Yeah." Bush's voice rose, as if facing the truculent press at that very moment: "I want to make sure before we put the policy in place that Gates -- I don't have a secretary of defense!"

"Right, I'm working that out -- "

" 'The president wants to make sure that all the key players on the national security team are well briefed, well versed, and ready to make a measured judgment,' " Bush finished.

"Good. Perfect. Sorry to interrupt," Snow said as he vacated the room.

"It's okay," remarked Bush. "This is worthles...