Tough." It was the ultimate accolade to the Best and the Brightest. Sent off to World War II from their Ivy League cocoons, the princes of Camelot had learned to swear and swagger like sailors to show that they could overcome their effete backgrounds by being just as tough as the master sergeants who were obliged to salute them. John F. Kennedy was the beau ideal: a PT-boat hero from Harvard. “Isn’t he marvelous?” swooned hawkish columnist Joseph Alsop. “A [Adlai] Stevenson with balls!”

George Bush, Distinguished Flying Cross ‘45, Yale ‘48, was presumably feeling tough when he told a group of congressmen several days before Christmas that if war broke out in the Persian Gulf, Saddam Hussein is “going to get his ass kicked. " He must have been feeling tough when he boasted to some longshoremen after his 1984 vice presidential debate against Geraldine Ferraro that he “tried to kick a little ass last night.” But to most ears, he just sounded tinny and grating.

No one–no American, anyway–questions Bush’s resolve. He is the one true hawk in his own administration. His generals may not be ready for war, but the president is. Bush denied reports last week that he had been cautioned by Defense Secretary Dick Cheney to wait until mid-February before attacking Iraqi forces in Kuwait. The Pentagon wants more time to position men and weapons in the desert, but the president continues to insist that if Saddam fails to quit Kuwait by Jan. 15, he risks immediate annihilation.

Bush has been ready for combat from the beginning. From the earliest days of the crisis, according to White House aides, he has shown a willingness to use force if diplomacy failed. When the Joint Chiefs of Staff hesitated to send troops into the gulf, in part because they feared that the American public would not support them, Bush insisted–and agreed to give the generals all the firepower they needed to defeat Saddam. Bush is not unmindful of public polls and congressional hand wringing, say his aides, but domestic politics will not stop him from giving the “go” order.

Some pundits have wondered if the president is still fighting the wimp factor. “Maybe it’s overcompensation for Andover and Yale,” said liberal columnist Mark Shields. But it is unfair to question Bush’s motives. He genuinely believes in the moral his generation took home from World War II: that appeasement is wrong, and that the United States has a moral obligation to stand up to aggressors who bully smaller nations. Bush’s problem is that he often seems incapable of communicating this message in a way that sounds at once firm but sober-minded.

Tough talk worked for Ronald Reagan. When he growled “Make my day,” he sounded like Clint Eastwood. But when Bush threatens to “kick ass,” he just sounds clumsy. Winston Churchill inspired Britain during the war by evoking “blood, toil, tears and sweat.” The best Bush can do is splutter, “I’ve had it.” Now he is being criticized for personalizing his feud with the Iraqi strongman, as if he were sending U.S. soldiers to die out of personal pique.

This bluster seems strange coming from a man whose WASP culture prizes effortless grace–and whose own mother warned him to avoid using “the Great I Am.” But there has always been a contradiction between Bush the Brahmin and Bush the political huckster. Bush’s resume, beginning when he enlisted in the Navy at the age of 18, is a monument to public service and sacrifice. Yet he has been willing to take the low road to higher office, catering to the right wing and running–or at least permitting–a presidential campaign best remembered for Willie Horton.

Bush, in fact, is tough. Unlike John F. Kennedy’s lieutenants, who were mostly staff officers in World War II, Bush flew 58 combat missions and very nearly died on one of them. Just as character building, perhaps, Bush has endured the ordeal of running for president, twice. But by trying to sound tough, he appears weak. And the ultimate irony may be that his real audience–Saddam Hussein–doesn’t seem to believe him.