james buchanan

James Buchanan was not an accident. He was the establishment’s gold standard.

By the time he took office in 1857, Buchanan had spent decades marinating in Washington. Congressman. Senator. Secretary of State. Diplomat to Russia. Diplomat to Great Britain. If longevity were leadership, he’d have been unstoppable. He wasn’t a populist gamble or a backroom surprise. He was wanted. Trusted. Supposed to be steady.

Then he walked into a country already cracking down the middle.

Slavery wasn’t a debate anymore — it was a countdown. Bleeding Kansas was bleeding. The Republican Party was rising. The Supreme Court was about to drop Dred Scott like a constitutional grenade. And Buchanan, armed with process and patience, believed the system would hold if everyone just followed the rules.

History had other plans.

Buchanan didn’t start the Civil War. But as states began sliding toward secession, his legalistic restraint and refusal to confront the crisis head-on made him the last president of a Union that was already slipping away. He had the résumé. He had the reputation. What he didn’t have was a moment that rewarded caution.

In the Civil War Era, Buchanan isn’t remembered for what he built.

He’s remembered for what unraveled on his watch.