Last July, standing at a podium in the East Room of the White House, Stephen Harper turned to George W. Bush, and thanked him for something that had just taken place.

It was "something I never thought I'd see," observed the prime minister, "which is have the Canadian media stand when I entered the room."

Harper continued, referring to himself in the first-person plural: "We certainly enjoy that."

It's easy to understand how a Canadian politician — especially one who'd actually seen a large group of disgruntled reporters walk out during one of his Ottawa news conferences — would be impressed by what he'd just seen.

Reporters do not walk out on George W. Bush. And when he walks into a room, reporters here do what everyone else does: They stand up.

If it's a social function, they applaud him, along with the rest of the room, as the band strikes up Hail to the Chief. So do members of the visiting press corps, although they often glance at one another in puzzlement over having to show a politician such courtesy.

"I don't have a good answer," as to why this occurs, says Steven Scully, president of the White House Correspondents Association. "The only thing I can say is that the president is our head of government and also our king, our queen" (in a manner of speaking). What's more, he says, "we have always had a great respect for the office of president."

The alpha-president

Video

President George W. Bush news conference on November 8, 2006. Exchange with Ken Herman of Cox Newspapers about the "thumpin'" Bush took in the Midterm elections. (Runs 1:14)

President Bush news conference on October 25, 2006. Exchange with NBC's David Gregory about "semantic, rhetorical games." (Runs 1:17)

News conference with President Bush and Prime Minister Tony Blair on December 7, 2006. Exchange with BBC's Nick Robinson about Bush being "in denial" about situation in Iraq. (Runs 3:47)

News conference with President Bush and Prime Minister Blair on May 25, 2006. Exchange with British reporter about which mistakes Bush regrets. (Runs 1:26)

Bush's treatment was particularly deferential during his first term, in the years following 9/11. Perhaps motivated by a surge of patriotism, perhaps fearing the vengeful sensibilities of shell-shocked viewers and readers, the White House press corps seemed nearly supine.

Those who weren't were jerked back into line, either dropped from the list of questioners or upbraided by a president who demanded his due.

"Who are you talking to?" Bush snapped a couple of years ago, when a reporter failed to preface his question with: "Mr. President." The reporter mumbled an apology, rephrased the question and received an answer.

The foreign press here was mildly contemptuous of the White House corps; some American journalists outside Washington were embarrassed.

"It isn't because they're paid submissives," wrote critic James Wolcott in a 2003 Vanity Fair article titled "Round Up the Cattle." The Washington press corps, he said, are "not prostitutes, they're pushovers."

But as Bush enters his seventh year in office, much of the fawning, and even some of the politeness, has evaporated. His approval ratings have been awful. The public has turned against his war. The Democrats are now ascendant in Congress.

The alpha-male president is limping, and the media-political establishment herd smells that which above all else it holds in contempt: Weakness.

"The phoniness has kind of disappeared," says Stuart Rothenberg, editor of the Rothenberg Political Report. "Everybody's looking at him a bit more cold bloodedly."

Reporters still stand when Bush enters the room, but Stephen Harper might want to look at the transcripts of recent White House news conferences before he envies the greener grass he first espied.

The new diffidence

When Bush conceded after last month's mid-term congressional elections that he'd been wrong about the public mood, and that his party had taken "a thumpin'," Ken Herman of Cox Newspapers stood up.

"I wanted to ask you about the thumpin' you took at yesterday's rodeo," he said. "And that was thumpin' without a 'g,' correct?"

At this point, the transcript notes there was laughter in the room. But the transcribers couldn't quite capture the edge that was there as well. This was sass, and Bush didn't like it, even from a reporter who'd covered him back in Texas.

But Herman continued: "You said you were surprised, you didn't see it coming. Does that indicate that after six years in the Oval Office you're out of touch with America?"

Bush: "I knew we were going to lose seats, I just didn't know how many."

Herman: "How could you not know that and not be out of touch?"

Bush: "You didn't know it either." The reply was almost plaintive, enough to elicit a wince of sympathy from at least some of those watching.

The November mid-terms, however, were not the turning point in Bush's relations with the press.

Here's another earlier exchange from October, after Bush had repeated his routine assurance about Iraq: "Absolutely we're winning. Al-Qaeda is on the run."

"Why," asked one reporter, "wouldn't the American people conclude that this is nothing more than semantic, rhetorical games and all politics?"

Bush, whose reply would have been coated with ice a few years ago, gave a long, earnest answer, ending with: "You're asking me why I'm giving this speech today? Because there's … I think I owe an explanation to the American people."

Then there was this shot from a British reporter, confronting Bush about his characterization of the Iraq situation: "That will convince many people that you're still in denial about how bad things are in Iraq and question your sincerity about changing course."

"It's bad in Iraq," Bush replied. "Does that help?"

Bringing it on

The debut of Bush the Diffident, some would say, was last May, at a joint news conference with British Prime Minister Tony Blair.

The two seemed in an introspective mood, so a reporter asked the inevitable question, one Bush has refused to answer, or brushed aside, in the past: Which mistakes do you most regret?

Bush began with a joke, then grew sombre: "Saying 'Bring it on,' " he replied, referring to his famously ill-considered challenge to the Iraqi insurgents in 2003. "Kind of tough talk, you know, that sent the wrong signal to people. I learned some lessons about expressing myself maybe in a more sophisticated manner. You know: 'Wanted dead or alive,' that kind of talk."

Certainly, some Americans have found the president's diffident incarnation endearing. Washington, though, is not a very sentimental place.

The neo-conservative hawks, who once supported Bush and ferociously attacked anyone who questioned the commander-in-chief's judgment, are now doing just that.

Ken Adelman, a former member of the Pentagon advisory board, and, therefore, a key supporter of the decision to go to war, now says "the president is ultimately responsible" for the "debacle" in Iraq.

Not that the war, itself, was a bad idea, says the neo-con chorus. It was just executed badly. Especially the business of staying on in Iraq after toppling Saddam.

"It was a foolish thing to do," Richard Perle told the Washington Post. This from the former assistant secretary of defence, the superhawk who once signed a manifesto advocating American military hegemony worldwide and permanent U.S. bases in the Middle East.

Even serving generals now feel free to flout the White House line about winning in Iraq. Gen. Peter Schoomaker, the U.S. army's chief of staff, told Congress recently that the military was sent "flat-footed" to Iraq in 2003; that more troops should have been sent; and that without more men and money his active-duty force "will break" in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Schoomaker was not fired, or slapped down after his testimony. And a few days later, senior Pentagon brass told reporters that anti-U.S. forces in Iraq have been scoring "strategic successes," another rebuke to Bush's stubborn optimism.

Again, no response from Bush or his officials. The White House is busy preparing to announce a major course correction in Iraq next month, and the president's legacy depends on selling his new war strategy to the public. The public diffidence, some suggest, is part of the selling job.

Still, old Bush does peep out once in a while. At a recent meeting with reporters, Peter Baker of the Washington Post stood up. "Thank you for taking our questions today," he began.

"What was that?" asked Bush.

The reporter repeated the pleasantry.

"I'm just happy to be able to do so, brother," replied Bush. "I can't tell you how joyful it is."

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