With the historical exception of Andrew Jackson, a known murderer who essentially told the Supreme Court to sit on it and rotate, it's difficult to ascribe roguish qualities to an American President, since they become, by default, The Man. Until a bunch of malicious aliens invaded Earth, Whitmore would seem to be as un-roguish as any real-life president. He wears silky presidential pajamas and frets helplessly over public perception. Even his name, Thomas J. Whitemore, recalls an august, idealized image of the founding fathers, positing him as a natural political leader.
Just before the action begins, we see an indication of his rebel spirit, letting his young daughter stay up late to watch Letterman while the First Lady is out of town. When the extraterrestrial invasion force arrives and reigns apocalyptic fire, symbolically castrating our most gloriously phallic buildings like the Empire State Building, Whitmore shows his true colors. And those colors, ladies and gentleman, are red, white, and blue.
As humanity is being decimated and his wife dies, Whitmore keeps his cool. After a psychic parlay with a captured alien invader – who was knocked on his ass by one punch from a fellow patriot played by Will Smith – Whitmore makes a bold move, declaring, "Nuke 'em. Let's nuke the bastards." That doesn't exactly pan out, but when Jeff Goldblum eventually comes up with a plan to save the world, Whitmore refuses to sit out the climax. Instead, the retired combat pilot hops back in the seat of a fighter jet to kick some alien ass. Andrew Jackson certainly would've done the same.
Independence Day, as directed by Roland Emmerich and co-written by he and Dean Devlin, takes gung-ho American awesomeness to its logical extreme, as Whitmore declares in his pre-finale rousing speech, that the Fourth of July will no longer be merely a holiday of the colonies, but of the entire world. That's the kind of unapologetic spiritual imperialism we demand in a Rogue of the Week.
President Thomas J. Whitmore, we salute you and acknowledge that you're more of a rogue than Air Force One's fellow fictitious president James Marshall.