I've watched the American triumvirate of leaders for a long time: principals House Speaker Emerita Nancy Pelosi, Senate Republican leader John Thune and President Donald Trump.

The ancient Roman triumvirate of generals had one that was truly great: Julius Caesar, famous forevermore.

Pelosi, who turned 86 last week, is the truly great leader, now serving her last term in Congress. I covered her keeping the lights on in the Capitol during the pandemic, confronting Trump on "All roads lead to (Vladimir) Putin," and her bravery during the mob storming the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021.

I was there that day in the House chamber, hearing gunshots and glass breaking on our temple's marble floors. It felt like the Roman siege of the sacred temple in Jerusalem. A great leader's mettle is tested in battle. Thousands of Trump supporters tried to overturn the election he lost. Unflinching, Pelosi and then-Vice President Mike Pence insisted we (members, press, staff) return to the ransacked Capitol to complete confirming the election result.

We were there until 4 a.m. Blood was shed, with 140 law enforcement casualties. It was the worst thing any of us had ever seen, had ever imagined seeing. About 1,500 rioters were convicted for their involvement in the attack.

Pelosi was known as "Little Nancy" in Baltimore, where her father was mayor. Her birth made the front pages. Little Italy gave her the start of her political training and talent. After marrying Paul Pelosi, they raised five children before she ran for Congress in San Francisco at age 47.

These biographical facts skim the surface of her leadership style: gracious, disciplined and as organized as a mother of five might be. Every member of her caucus, whatever color, kind or age, knows her well. Often looking like a million bucks, she strides on the House floor — "hell on heels" — passionate yet giving clear, direct speeches. She supported Ukraine and invited President Volodymyr Zelenskyy to speak to Congress early in the war.

Former President Barack Obama credits Pelosi with bringing health care reform over the finish line.

In press conferences, wearing colorful masks during the COVID-19 crisis, Pelosi called the Supreme Court "rogue." She told reporters that Benjamin Franklin was the nation's first postmaster. She didn't mind that a statue of Christopher Columbus in her old Baltimore neighborhood was thrown into the harbor. She quoted the American revolutionary Thomas Paine: "These are the times that try men's souls."

But when Pelosi defiantly tore up Trump's speech after he delivered a State of the Union address, the congressional press corps was stunned. She wore suffrage white, making the moment richer. I interviewed her on how women won that voting campaign (finally) and she said, "We stand on their shoulders."

On to Thune, 65, of South Dakota, who plays big man on campus in his first turn as majority leader. An institutionalist who grew up a star athlete in a small town, he carries himself with confidence. He is not a MAGA Republican and strives to keep the Senate wall up from the rowdy House.

But Thune might as well be MAGA, because he's never challenged Trump as a starting player, jamming the "Big Beautiful" wealthy tax-cut bill to passage.

Thune, who wastes few words with a dry wit, and the garrulous Trump are opposing American archetypes. Thune would be a fine leader in an ordinary time.

The tall man had his chance at two in the morning last week, when TSA agents were quitting and some airport lines were taking hours to clear. Like a lawmaker, Thune crafted a bipartisan bill to allow TSA agents to be paid, airport security to flow and the Department of Homeland Security to open agencies like the Coast Guard.

When the weary Senate recessed, House Republicans spiked the Thune compromise the next night. House Speaker Mike Johnson, the little man on campus, takes orders directly from the big man in the White House.

As for Trump, I fear the one-man war in Iran will show us more of the same zealot trait as the 2020 election: that he will do absolutely anything to win — or pretend that he did. The writing is on the Capitol wall.

The author may be reached at JamieStiehm.com. To find out more about Jamie Stiehm and other Creators Syndicate columnists and cartoonists, please visit creators.com.

Photo credit: Jamie Street at Unsplash