BOOK EXCERPT SPECIAL .....Five Leaders Forged in Crisis, and What We Can Learn From Them

Five Leaders Forged in Crisis, and What We Can Learn From Them

How Personal Crisis Shaped Abraham Lincoln's leadership

from: Forged in Crisis

by Nancy Koehn

When Lincoln entered office in March 1861, he’d done so committed to preserving the Union, including upholding slavery where it legally existed. During the first year of the war, Lincoln dealt cautiously with all questions related to slavery. As a political candidate in the 1850s, he’d cultivated the ability to detach himself from his immediate surroundings in order to mentally walk around a particular issue so he could see it from all relevant angles. Now, he leaned heavily on these powers of detachment as he faced the growing military, political, and moral difficulties that arose concerning slavery. Uncertain about what to do about the institution, attacked by critics across the political spectrum, and straining to manage the war, Lincoln hoped for military victories. When McClellan and his huge army met defeat in the Seven Days’ Battles, these hopes were dashed. For Lincoln, this military loss was almost unbearable. In the aftermath, he described himself as “nearly inconsolable as I could be and live.” Personally, the death of his eleven-year-old son, Willie, five months earlier still weighed heavily on both the president and his wife. Despite his despondency, Lincoln didn’t give way to his darkest fears. His resilience and commitment to preserve the Union helped sustain him.

The ability to experience negative emotions without falling through the floorboards of doubt is a vital lesson for today’s leaders. Even in the face of great obstacles, individuals must learn to maintain their equanimity while trying to advance their cause. This is true for chief executives trying to transform a struggling company, entrepreneurs dealing with the ups and downs of starting a business, and mothers caring for sick children. If a leader falters and can’t recover, his or her mission is most likely doomed. As Lincoln explained to a senator who reproached him for telling a funny story right after the Seven Days’ Battles: “Senator, do you think that this situation weighs more heavily upon you than it does upon me? If the cause goes against us, not only will the country be lost, but I shall be disgraced to all time. But what would happen if I appeared upon the streets of Washington today with such a countenance as yours? The news would spread throughout the country that the president’s very demeanor is an admission that defeat is inevitable.”

Now, surrounded by difficulties, Lincoln decided to make a bigger, bolder move against slavery. His earlier concerns with protecting the legality of the institution, preserving Border State loyalty, and moving cautiously as he gauged Northern political sentiment had all been overridden by exigency. “Things had gone from bad to worse,” the president later recalled, “until I felt we had reached the end of our rope on the plan of operations we had been pursuing; that we had about played our last card and must change our tactics or lose the game!” Like the explorer Ernest Shackleton, Lincoln understood that he had to shape his methods to changing circumstances without giving up his ultimate goal; he then had to move forward into the consequences of these choices. In early July 1862, the president began drafting what would become the Emancipation Proclamation.

The cabinet was divided over the proposed action. But Lincoln had put a great deal of thought into his proclamation and was unlikely to be dissuaded from it. Nothing was said during the meeting, Lincoln remembered, “that I had not already fully anticipated and settled in my own mind, until Secretary [of State William] Seward spoke.” The cabinet member suggested the president wait for a Union victory before publicly issuing the decree, lest the action seem “the last measure of an exhausted government, a cry for help.” The leader was impressed with Seward’s advice. “It was an aspect of the case,” Lincoln recalled, “that in all my thought upon the subject, I had entirely overlooked.” He decided to put the proclamation aside until the North won a big battle.

He waited two months. On September 22, 1862, after a bloody triumph at Antietam, Maryland, in which more than twenty thousand Union and Confederate soldiers were killed or wounded, the president announced the Emancipation Proclamation to the American people. For all the risks involved in issuing the decree—and there were many—Lincoln saw his action as the best course. Going forward, he realized he would have to lead from the path forged by the Emancipation Proclamation. Come what may. This would mean directing the war and governing the country in accordance with the promise he’d made to abolish slavery. As the conflict stretched on and its terrible costs mounted, Lincoln would draw on his commitment to the proclamation again and again. He did not become president in 1861 with the intention of eradicating slavery, but in the midst of a grave crisis, his mission changed. And his steadfast dedication to this new, broader purpose would prove critical to its achievement.

Excerpted from Forged in Crisis by Nancy Koehn. Copyright © 2017 by Nancy Koehn. Excerpted with permission by Scribner, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.