It’s easy. They just stand on their soapbox, never shy or subtle, and tell everyone they’re leaders. For example:
“I’m a leader, but my opponent couldn’t follow Teddy Roosevelt out of a gunny sack.”
Or, “The issue in this campaign is leadership. I’m a proven leader. My opponent is a proven failure at leadership.”
Adding “Trust me!” is a nice touch, as is “That’s right, a leader, a man whom others follow, and rightly so, because the Lord God (Gawd, in the South) Almighty handed down the word: ‘Thou shalt be a leader. Go forth into the village square and remind your followers that I sent you to lead them out of the wilderness of leaderless government.’”
That’s all proving one’s not a leader requires — because as soon as the assertion of leadership is made, voters hearing it begin to wonder why the politician thought it necessary to quash doubts he could lead.
Politicians who, without prompting, are seen as leaders carry themselves as leaders, projecting confidence and quiet authority, providing solutions to the problems the voters find important. Of such politicians, people will say: “That Jones is a leader, all right. He makes sense and conducts himself as a fellow who gets things done.”
I used to think this was so obvious that one needn’t call attention to it. I still think it’s obvious, but I now understand that those larding their stump speeches with “I’m a leader! Yes, it’s true!” are so busy looking in the mirror and worshipping what they see that sometimes they forget how the voters react to such unrestrained self-praise.