“In the debate, you were asked to clarify if you believe Trump lost the 2020 election. Do you believe he lost the 2020 election?” “I think that Donald Trump and I have both raised a number of issues with the 2020 election, but we’re focused on the future. I think there’s an obsession here with focusing on 2020. I’m much more worried about what happened after 2020, which is a wide-open border, groceries that are unaffordable. And look—” “Senator, yes or no? Did Donald Trump lose the 2020 election?” “Let me ask you a question. Is it OK that big technology companies censored the Hunter Biden laptop story, which independent analysis have said cost Donald Trump millions of votes?” “Senator Vance, I’m going to ask you again, did Donald Trump lose the 2020 election?” “Did big technology companies censor a story that independent studies have suggested would have cost Trump millions of votes? I think that’s the question.” “Senator Vance, I’m going to ask you again. Did Donald Trump lose the 2020 election?” “And I’ve answered your question with another question. You answer my question and I’ll answer yours.” “I have asked this question repeatedly. It is something that is very important for the American people to know. There is no proof, legal or otherwise, that Donald Trump did not lose the 2020 election.” “You’re repeating a slogan rather than engaging with what I’m saying, which is that when our own technology firms engage in industrial scale censorship, by the way, backed up by the federal government, in a way that independent studies suggest affect the votes, I’m worried about Americans who feel like there were problems in 2020. I’m not worried about this slogan that people throw, ‘Well, every court case went this way.’ I’m talking about something very discrete: a problem of censorship in this country that I do think affected things in 2020, and more importantly, that led to Kamala Harris’s governance, which has screwed this country up in a big way.” “Senator, would you have certified the election in 2020, yes or no?” “I’ve said that I would have voted against certification because of the concern that I just raised. I think that when you have technology companies—” “The answer is no.” “When you have technology companies censoring Americans at a mass scale in a way that, again, independent studies have suggested affect the vote, I think that it’s right to protest against that, to criticize that. And that’s a totally reasonable thing.” “So the answer is no. And the last question, will you support the election results this time and commit to a peaceful transfer of power?” “Well, first of all, of course we commit to a peaceful transfer of power. We are going to have a peaceful transfer of power. I, of course, believe that peaceful transfer of power is going to make Donald Trump the next president of the United States. But if there are problems, of course, in the same way that Democrats protested in 2004 and Donald Trump raised issues in 2020, we’re going to make sure that this election counts, that every legal ballot is counted. We’ve filed almost 100 lawsuits at the R.N.C. to try to ensure that every legal ballot has counted. I think you would maybe criticize that. We see that as an important effort to ensure election integrity, but certainly we’re going to respect the results in 2024. And I feel very confident they’re going to make Donald Trump the next president.

President Joe Biden’s decision to exit the presidential race in July was motivated in no small part by the high-profile struggles that plagued his son, Hunter Biden, in the final years of his first term — leaving him with a “crushing” sense of guilt that those close to the outgoing president say plagued him more than the wars in Ukraine and the Middle East.

In his new book, “War,” famed Watergate reporter Bob Woodward offers readers an intimate look inside both the Trump and Biden presidencies at some of their most vulnerable moments; offering a rare, split-screen view into the thinking of two very different leaders as they stared down some of the biggest foreign policy challenges and security risks in modern memory. 

Fox News obtained an early copy of the book ahead of its release next week. 

Woodward’s book captures the more intimate moments of both presidencies, as well. For Biden, this includes the aftermath of his disastrous performance at the first presidential debate in June — watched by an estimated 51 million people — and the torrent of pressure it unleashed within the Democratic Party for Biden to exit the race. 

Among party leaders and donors, it crystallized long-held fears that Biden, 81, was no longer fit to hold his own in a second match-up against Donald Trump. Their panic was matched only by their sense of urgency and the ticking clock they had to select a suitable nominee.

BIDEN WON’T PARDON HUNTER, WHITE HOUSE REAFFIRMS, BUT CRITICS AREN’T SO SURE

As Woodward reports, Biden struggled mightily to accept that consensus — first, by attempting to brush off his catastrophic performance as a bad night and an event he could recover from in the months ahead. The tsunami of pressure on him to drop out only got stronger.

In fact, according to Woodward, Biden was leaning in the direction of staying in the race on July 4, when he met with Secretary of State Antony Blinken for a private lunch. Blinken, who had shown up to the lunch prepared for a difficult conversation, told Woodward that Biden still believed he could win a second term as president — a title he had chased all his life and finally achieved. 

In his telling, among the factors ultimately driving his decision to bow out was the scrutiny and legal troubles surrounding his son Hunter.

The toll his son’s troubles had taken was apparent when the two met, Woodward reports. Blinken, in his telling, spoke frankly to Biden about dropping out. “I don’t want to see your legacy jeopardized,” he said. 

’60 MINUTES’ DEFENDS HANDLING OF HUNTER BIDEN LAPTOP COVERAGE AS IT HITS TRUMP FOR SKIPPING INTERVIEW

President Biden hugs his son Hunter Biden during the Democratic National Convention Monday, Aug. 19, 2024, in Chicago.  (AP Photo/Paul Sancya)

Sensing little headway, Blinken then tried a different approach. “Do you really want to be doing this for the next four years?” he asked.

Biden’s first term included overseeing the U.S. recovery from a global pandemic, the first war on European soil since World War II, and the start of Israel’s wars in Gaza and Lebanon. Each day was charged with turmoil and lasting consequence. And yet, those close to Biden say it was his younger son, Hunter Biden, whose struggles seemed to weigh most heavily on the president.

Hunter’s troubles are described in the book as Biden’s “real war”: a constant source of preoccupation for the president, who was constantly fighting against his fatherly instincts to protect his son, his “beautiful boy,” as he called him — and to reconcile the deep sense of guilt he felt, in knowing his presidency had been a driving factor behind much of the scrutiny surrounding his son.

POLITICAL STORM: ON TRUMP ‘ONSLAUGHT OF LIES,’ BIDEN URGES FORMER PRESIDENT TO ‘GET A LIFE, MAN’

Hunter Biden, accompanied by his mother, first lady Jill Biden, and his wife, Melissa Cohen Biden, exit federal court in  Wilmington, Del. (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)

For Biden, this knowledge left him “heartbroken” and affected him more than the major crises playing out abroad in Europe and the Middle East, sources told Woodward. These things took the president “off an even keel,” preoccupied him and taken “a lot out of him” in recent years. 

In describing the president’s inner turmoil to Woodward, Blinken himself teared up, thinking of his own relationships with two young children.

Biden, Blinken explained, “desperately” wanted to pull Hunter “out of the abyss” — to reel him in, to protect him — but his attempts and best efforts had failed.

The book does not detail the extent to which Hunter’s legal woes and investigations were directly involved in the president’s decision to step down, which was likely the result of myriad factors, internal party pressures, and deeply personal considerations. The White House did not respond to Fox News’s request for comment on the matter.

The book offers an unflinching look at one of the president’s most emotionally difficult struggles, one which staying in the race would have ultimately exacerbated. 

“War” will be out on bookstore shelves October 15.

Get the latest updates from the 2024 campaign trail, exclusive interviews and more at our Fox News Digital election hub.

Words matter. Especially when uttered by a president, and especially overseas. “Speak softly, and carry a big stick,” Theodore Roosevelt advised, though he never envisioned a successor would prove capable of obliterating cities half a world away in under half an hour. That nuclear stick is pretty big indeed, capable since 1945 of keeping our most virulent adversaries, including Moscow, Beijing, Tehran and Pyongyang, from their most reckless ambitions. It also keeps allies in line. What do Japan, Saudi Arabia, Germany and South Korea have in common? Each is but a day away from joining the nuclear club. That day is when their leaders stop believing the president of the United States will come to their aid.

This is why I fear a second Trump term. A world increasingly riven by renewed great power rivalries and historic animosities is further weakened by Oval Office instability, exemplified by ill-advised remarks, ill-timed threats and outright lies. Calm captains of the ship of state struggle to navigate the world system’s waves and shoals. An erratic one won’t help. Especially one whose obsessions, personal grievances and loose relationship with the truth make others question not only America’s policy but more fundamentally our reliability.

How trite. The professor in the ivory tower reminds us that words retain meaning. How very 20th century. Does he not realize that legions of bots and ChatGPT enable today’s policymakers to forge the algorithmic reality they desire?

Presidents must be held to higher standards. Their quips move markets. Their words invite or ward off aggression. Save or end lives. Examples abound of even experienced leaders forgetting their rhetorical reach.

Dwight Eisenhower’s 1956 promise of aid inspired Hungarians to revolt against Soviet control, leading most to their death or to exile. Ike never thought they’d take him so literally. He meant moral and rhetorical aid, the thoughts and prayers kind. Hungary’s freedom fighters expected guns, or better yet American troops that Eisenhower never meant to imply would be forthcoming. Desperate people heard what they wanted to hear when the man in the Oval Office was unclear.

Words mattered at the end of the Cold War, too. Ronald Reagan called the Soviet Union an “evil empire” against his own State Department’s guidance, which also tried to stop him from saying “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall,” lest such a direct challenge rile the Kremlin. But that was precisely Reagan’s point. Another word for “rile” is “catalyze,” which is what Reagan hoped to do to the rumblings of change behind the Iron Curtain.

George H.W. Bush also understood the power of presidential proclamations and was thus largely mute when the Berlin Wall finally fell in 1989. “I guess I’m just not an excitable guy,” he told CBS reporter Leslie Stahl and a similarly bewildered White House press corps amazed by his laconic response. But Bush knew presidential triumphalism at that precarious moment might spark a hard-line backlash. “I’m not going to dance on the wall,” he said privately, forgoing personal political gain to preserve America’s Cold War triumph.

Presidents are supposed to care more about the nation’s fate than their own. Barack Obama’s reputation suffered when he refused to back up his own “red line” against Syrian use of chemical weapons in 2013, but he ultimately reasoned his promise to avoid another Middle East quagmire mattered more than his own temporary loss of prestige. Joe Biden’s decision to keep his promise to end America’s generation-long fight in Afghanistan showed consistency even when retaliation for losses endured during the evacuation might have helped him in the polls. Better to demonstrate prudence, he reasoned, than to rashly reverse a well-considered decision in hope of temporarily saving face.

This is why the prospect of a second Trump presidency is so terrifying: His unconsidered words reverberate. He was the first president since Harry Truman, which is to say the only president ever, to cast doubt on our commitment to defend our NATO allies. “Does that mean that you won’t protect us in case — if we don’t pay, you won’t protect us from Russia,” Trump boasted a foreign leader lamenting. “I said, ‘That’s exactly what it means.’”

Perhaps this was more bluster than extortion, a negotiating tactic to encourage tight-fisted allies to boost their defense spending. Either way, the story has become part of Trump’s standard rally repertoire. Our allies, meanwhile, inch closer to creating their own security guarantees every time Trump puts another dent in the armor of collective security. Including their own nuclear deterrent.

Treaties and promises are, ultimately, mere scraps of paper. They only matter if leaders are trusted to follow through. After a decade of undermining Washington’s commitment to NATO, including four years as president, Trump has no reservoir of reliability among our partners, at least those that remain beyond the grip of their own strongmen. During a second Trump presidency our most meaningful allies would be certain to further their own security arrangements without U.S. involvement and thus, without U.S. input. After all, would you buy a second car from a dealer that threatens to disregard the warranty on your first?

Trump’s prevarications underline his unreliability. He will say anything that leaps to mind, or anything he thinks will help him win, no matter the veracity or collateral damage. A presidential candidate willing to lie about immigrants, FEMA, military chiefs or a hurricane’s expected path can’t be trusted to tell the truth about future crises. Worse still is his tendency to double down rather than admitting error. If Trump’s putting America First means risking the well-being of Ohio schoolchildren, continuing to push the Big Lie that he won the last election or redefining the Jan. 6 Capitol assault as pure patriotism rather than partisan violence, why would our foreign friends trust his judgment?

Trump’s falsehoods are unmatched in presidential history. Franklin Roosevelt promised that Americans would build 50,000 aircraft a year to combat Nazi aggression. Asked by aides where he got that big, round number, Roosevelt responded he’d made it up, noting that defeating fascism required Americans to think in larger terms than ever before. Abraham Lincoln fibbed as well, telling newspaper readers in 1862 that he was not considering emancipating the Confederacy’s enslaved people when he’d already decided to do so. Even the greats sometimes lie, albeit for national rather than personal gain. Trump lies for himself.

International politics is not best overseen by saints or sophists. We are forced to trust the person we put in charge of our security to use their words judiciously. But Donald Trump shuns what Ike learned, Reagan deployed, Bush restrained and Obama realized: The big stick of American power requires speaking not so much softly as reliably.

FDR and Lincoln knew when they were lying. Does Trump? The world should fear another four years of wondering if he can tell the difference.

Jeffrey A. Engel is the founding director of the Center for Presidential History at Southern Methodist University. He is at work on his 15th book, “Seeking Monsters to Destroy: How Americans Go to War from George Washington to Today.”