See Che, Mario, Hulk Hogan, Freddie Mercury, Gandhi, and Einstein after the jump.

In November 1912, America faced a critical decision: a president without a mustache, or one with—and if siding with the latter, just which mustached candidate?  Would it be the Democrat Woodrow Wilson, the clean-shaven, Southern-born, intellectual-cum-politician?  Would it be the Republican incumbent William Howard Taft, the heavy-set former judge and trend-setting wearer of a brawny walrus-style mustache?  Or would it be the stalwart Teddy Roosevelt—a Nobel laureate, former president, soldier, trust-buster and all-around bombast—seemingly set on destroying his former vice president (and friend) in order to restore a progressive federal government and his tight-cropped commanding mustache back in the White House? America not only chose a president that year, but set an electoral precedent—the ramifications we still feel today.

President Roosevelt, following tradition, declined to run for a third term in 1908.  Or, perhaps, he just longed to return to hunting animals to extinction while on safari in Africa, or at his private game reserve, Yellowstone National Park.  Either way, he supported the campaign of his hand-picked successor, and fellow mustache-wearer, William Howard Taft.  Taft won that fall, and established yet another Republican administration.  However, the policies of the new president sided more with the conservative wing of the party, rather than Roosevelt-style progressives.  TR seethed at this change in tack (“Bully!”), and by 1910 his falling out with Taft was solid—setting up a showdown and potential schism at the Republican convention in June 1912.

Roosevelt came into the convention with the momentum of state primary victories, seemingly destined sit his ‘stache behind the Oval Office desk once again.  But, at the convention in Chicago, the established, old guard of conservatives held sway.  After several close votes for Taft, Roosevelt disputed the legitimacy of the delegates, refused to support a compromise candidate, and left the convention with his supporters.  Later that summer, in Chicago as well, Roosevelt and backers established the Progressive Party.  Though the press (damn the media!  Fourth estate my eye…) questioned his viability (and perhaps his virility), Roosevelt confidently replied that he was a strong as an animal he had often killed, a “bull moose,” and no doubt just as hairy and ill-tempered.  Taft versus Roosevelt.  G.O.P. elephant versus Progressive bull moose.  Walrus ‘stache versus handle bar.  But what of that baby-faced, egghead of a bigot, Woodrow Wilson?

Initially, Wilson did not seem he would gain the Democratic nomination in 1912.  Delegates backed Speaker of the House Clark on each vote, with Wilson coming in second on each ballot.  But Clark could not gain a two-thirds majority.  After Tammany Hall supported Clark, long-time Democratic standard-bearer, William Jennings Bryan—the “silver-tongued” orator and staunch creationist—leaned toward Wilson.  And so the delegates followed, nominating Wilson as the Democratic candidate.

With Republican supporters (rich white men, then as now) divided between the incumbent and his predecessor, the door to the White House seemed quite open for Wilson’s naked upper lip in the fall of 1912. But Roosevelt—fueled by a volatile cocktail of raw aggression, a robust ego, and the blood of a Spaniard he’d killed in Cuba—ran a vigorous campaign, advocating federal regulation under the banner of “New Nationalism.”  Not to be outdone by vague promises and campaign trail pabulum, Wilson countered with his “New Freedom.”  And Taft offered only himself, all 300lbs.  Dismayed by their candidate’s complacency, conservative Republicans tried to “steam-powered gunship” Roosevelt by labeling him a “radical.” And it’s no surprise these allegations failed to stick, considering there were actual radicals running as part of a substantial Socialist Party (yes, they were actually Socialist—with a capital “S” and everything).

But come November, Wilson won the election, with less than 50% of the popular vote but a commanding electoral count.  Without Roosevelt and his “Bull Moose” Party to draw away Republican voters, Taft would likely have won. However, America had a conservative electorate, and it is also likely Wilson would have won against Roosevelt alone.  The election proved the last time a third party placed second in a presidential race, and the best showing of the Socialists.  But this turned out to be merely the high tide of progressivism and socialism.

And in the end, Wilson defeated not only two former presidents with solidly positive records of prosperity and peace, but two proudly mustached statesmen.  This was the death knell for presidential facial hair.  Not since March 1913 has the executive branch been under the guidance of a mustache or beard.  America made its choice.  Facial hair is now considered akin to political suicide for a presidential candidate.  Whiskers continue to be seen in lower offices and appointed positions, but with mild success (Governors Paterson and Corzine of New York and New Jersey, respectively; and don’t forget congressmen, Rep. Charles Rangel and Senator Roland Burris).  Let us now recall, with full-hearts, the proud history of the presidential mustache:

• 1861: Abraham Lincoln grows a beard while in office at the behest of an admirer’s letter. Though clean-shaven during the election, he becomes the first president with facial hair, establishing in his time in office both a fashion trend and the abolition of slavery. (However, James Buchanan, an irreverent bachelor, may have actually been the first since he allegedly wore a perpetual five o’clock shadow for much of his mediocre term.)
• 1869: Ulysses S. Grant becomes the first former Union general to carry his beard from the battlefield to the White House.  He would not be the last.
• 1869-1897:  A mustache or beard occupies the White House (including Republicans and Democrats) for 28 years.  Even after the assassination of James Garfield, the famously whiskered Chester A. Arthur took office, smoothly continuing the mustache streak (Unlike that impeached so-and-so Andrew Johnson.  He could have at least grown a beard of mourning in tribute to Lincoln!)
• 1901: After suffering a gunshot wound, William McKinley dies in office—handing the reins of power to the mustache and pince nez of the young Theodore Roosevelt (“Bully!”).  Perhaps McKinley’s assassin, Leon Czolgosz, intended to put a mustachioed man back in the presidency; without a doubt conspiracy theories linking Czolgosz to Roosevelt abound.
• 1908: Theodore Roosevelt grooms William Howard Taft as his successor, in order to preserve the newly-established line of presidential ‘staches.  But as we know, change was just around the corner.
• August 2008: Virtually a lame duck for the last year and a half, the idea finally sinks in with George W. Bush while on vacation at his ranch in Crawford, TX—the most famous ranch in Texas.  (Well, that is, except for Dick Cheney’s old-man shooting range.  That’s right, he shot that dude in the face!)  So, Bush the Younger grows a mangy beard throughout his month-long stay.  Realizing it makes him resemble Mahmoud Ahmadinejad more than Chuck Norris, he shaves it in disgust upon return to “Crawford—East.”

**Extra Bonus Fact (of a non-presidential sort)**

• December 2008: Ben Bernanke, chairman of the Federal Reserve, pledges to grow a “recession beard” until the national economic crisis is resolved.  Today, Bernanke can be seen on Wall Street scurrying to his limousine with a flowing beard tucked into his belt.  Asked for his take on the other beards in the financial world—including Nobel laureate and Times columnist Paul Krugman, as well as TV analyst/personality Jim Cramer—Bernake responded:  “Suck it, Krugman!  And that bald motherfucker [Cramer] ain’t got shit on this pimp … goddamn this beard itches—I thought this recession shit was over.”