Maybe George Washington's farewell address wasn't high on your reading list this week as thousands of Egyptians took to the streets of Cairo. It was on mine, however.
I've covered politics and politicians for nearly 30 years now. In that time, I've uncovered few universal truths as reliable as this one: The rarest of all animals is a political office-holder who voluntarily relinquishes power.
Hosni Mubarak wouldn't do it — not until people began to protest and his ally, the United States, suggested it would be a good idea. Otherwise, he would have gladly continued his 30-year rule.
Tunisia's President Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali didn't want to give up, either; not until he saw he had no other choice. You aren't likely to see Fidel Castro call for free and open elections, even if he were to find himself on his deathbed. Hugo Chavez wants all of Venezuela to believe the nation's future depends on him staying in power.
All of these places have one thing in common — miserable citizens.
And don't think this condition confines itself to people in distant lands. I've seen plenty of people in Congress and some local officials who have just as much trouble giving up power, giving rise to term-limit laws in some states.
Which brings me to George Washington. England's King George III was reported to have said that if Washington voluntarily relinquished power after two terms as president, he would be "the greatest man in the world." And yet on Sept. 17, 1796, Washington delivered a copy of his farewell address to David Claypoole, owner and editor of Claypoole's American Daily Advertiser in Philadelphia. In it, he begins by saying it's time for Americans to begin thinking about who should be elected president that fall, and that he won't be among the ones under consideration.
In fact, he explains, he had wanted to quit after only one term, "but mature reflection on the then perplexed and critical posture of our affairs with foreign nations and the unanimous advice of persons entitled to my confidence, impelled me to abandon the idea."
At the end of the address he talks about anticipating "with pleasing expectations" being a regular citizen, enjoying, "in the midst of my fellow citizens, the benign influence of good laws under a free government, the ever-favorite object of my heart, and the happy reward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, labors and dangers."
Sounds a lot better than hoping to strike a deal with some allied nation to be allowed to live in exile — perhaps renting the home of Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier, who is away for the moment after making the mistake of returning to Haiti, where he was arrested for certain crimes committed while in office.
The rest of Washington's address is worth, as he hoped it would be, "solemn contemplation," and "frequent review." To put it bluntly, we ought to pay close attention to anything said by a leader who voluntarily steps down.
The address is remembered most for what Washington said about staying out of international affairs, but it offers much more than that. He warns about the influence of "parties." As Matthew Spalding, author of "The Founder's Almanac" notes, this doesn't refer to political parties, but to what we would call special interests.
He warns against excessive public debt, "not ungenerously throwing upon posterity the burden which we ourselves ought to bear." He speaks of "religion and morality" as "great pillars of human happiness ..."
Despite all the concerns by voters last year, and despite tea parties and angry town hall meetings, politics in this country is tame. Every four years, we have the opportunity to peacefully overthrow power, and the loser steps down with grace.
It's important to remember that, despite the Constitution, the most important reason for this was the example set by Washington and other early Americans.
Without them, we might be just another Egypt.
Jay Evensen is a Deseret News editorial writer. E-mail him at even@desnews.com. For more content, visit his web site, www.jayevensen.com