Authors: Roy Jenkins
The President thereupon threw himself with almost excessive enthusiasm into a campaign of support for the Governor's nomination. He believed that his support was decisive. But the surge towards Stevenson was such that he would almost certainly have been swept in whatever Truman had done. He was the first âdrafted' Democratic candidate since Garfield in 1880, and that had been on the 36th ballot, whereas Stevenson achieved it on the 3rd. Nor did he make much obeisance to Truman. He excused himself from meeting him at the airport or from dining with him on the evening of his arrival in Chicago. He did, however, allow himself to be escorted by the President down the aisle of the convention hall and introduced by him before delivering at 2.00 a.m. his memorable if unusually humourless and somewhat florid acceptance speech. Truman, like most other people, was moved by the speech. He pledged himselfâto take my coat off and do everything I can to help him win'. He wrote him a warm letter at 6.40 the next morning. He invited him to Washington for strategy discussion and policy briefing, and Stevenson, perhaps without much alternative, accepted. It was the brief high point of their relationship.
Truman was quickly offended by Stevenson's replacement of the chairman of the Democratic National Committee, by other campaign appointments, by the setting up of his campaign headquarters in Springfield, Illinois, and not in Washington, and by his generally detached behaviour. By early August Truman was writing one of his famous unsent letters to Stevenson, but the tone was more hurt and complaining and less aggressive than usual:
âDear Governor,
I have come to the conclusion', he began, âthat you are embarrassed by having the President of the United States in your corner in this campaign. Therefore I shall remain silent and stay in Washington until Nov 4th.'
He retailed all the efforts he had made to get Stevenson the candidature, and continued:
âYou were nominated and made a grand acceptance speech. Then you proceeded to break up the Democratic Committee, which I had spent years in organizing, you called in the former mayor of Louisville [Wilson Wyatt] as your personal chairman and fired McKinney, the best chairman of the National Committee in my recollection ⦠I have tried to make it plain to you that I want you elected âin fact I want you to win this time more than I wanted to win in 1948. ButâI can't stand snub after snub from you and Mr Wyatt ⦠I shall go to the dedication of the Hungry Horse Dam in Montana (due in late September), make a public power speech, get in a plane and come back to Washington and stay there. You and Wilson can now run your campaign without interference or advice.'
5
Within a couple of weeks matters got still worse. Stevenson, maybe carelessly allowing an instinctive assumption of his mind to come to the surface, committed Truman's old fault of allowing a questioner to put words into his mouth. It was more reprehensible, however, for it was a written exchange. âCan Stevenson really clear up the mess in Washington?' the
Oregon Journal
asked him. âAs to whether I can clean up the mess in Washington' he answered, âI would bespeak the careful scrutiny of what I inherited in Illinois and what has been accomplished in three years.' The reply reverberated around the continent. The Democratic candidate had accepted the validity of one of the main Republican catch phrases of the campaign. Truman was affronted, and returned to the writing table within a few days. On this occasion he started with more raillery and less rancour than before:
âMy Dear Governor,
Your letter to Oregon is a surprising document. It makes the campaign rather ridiculous. It seems to me that the Presidential Nominee and his running mate are trying to beat the Democratic President instead of the Republicans and the General of the Army who heads their ticket. There is no mess in Washington except the sabotage press â¦'
However, he soon jerked himself up on to a sharper note:
âYou fired and balled up the Democratic National Committee Organization that I've been creating over the last four years.
âI'm telling you to take your crackpots, your high socialites with their noses in the air, run your campaign and win if you can. Cowfever could not have treated me any more shabbily than you have â¦
âBest of luck from a bystander who has become disinterested.'
6
It was bitter stuff (again not sent of course) and although it represented a part of Truman's feelings he gave no public vent to them and he in no way carried out his threat (which would have inflicted more deprivation upon himself than upon Stevenson) to remain silent, stationary and sullen. The Hungry Horse expedition, for instance, turned into a full-scale campaign trip, with the presidential train, and a pattern of six or eight speeches a day which was similar to that of 1948, except that the full blast of public attention was not on the President, who was not a candidate.
He and Stevenson never appeared together, which was perhaps as well for there was a fairly wide gulf of style and substance between them. Truman was happy to provide the rough stuff for which he thought that Stevenson was too mealy-mouthed. Some of it he did very well. He had a good joke about the initials GOP really standing not for Grand Old Party but for the Generals' Own Party. âThe Republicans,' he said, âhave General Motors and General Electric and General Foods and General MacArthur and General Martin and General Wedemeyer. And then they have their own five-star General who is running for President ⦠[but] general welfare is with the corporals and the privates in the Democratic Party.'
7
On the whole however he made the mistake of striking too persistent and strident a note of abuse of Eisenhower. From the beginning he resented his candidature. John Snyder, who was the closest link between them, was probably right when he said that Truman thought Eisenhower should have run as a Democrat. It was Democratic presidents who had given him the opportunity to build up his reputation.
8
This initial resentment provided the seed-bed from which there sprouted his violent reactions to any politickings which Eisenhower indulged in during the campaign.
Some of them were admittedly discreditable, most notably the General's excision of a pro-Marshall section from his speech when he appeared on a platform with McCarthy in Wisconsin. However, Truman treated almost everything the General did, from this craven act to his only mildly demagogic undertaking to go to Korea himself and see if he could dig out the bogged down negotiations, as being intolerable, and denounced him in immoderate terms. His responses to the Wisconsin episode, while strong -Eisenhower had âbetrayed his principles', âdeserted his friends', and amazed Truman by âstoop[ing] so low', were perhaps justified. But it was clearly a mistake to send a message to the Jewish Welfare Board accusing Eisenhower, on a somewhat convoluted argument about immigration, of having endorsed the practices of the âmaster race', and discriminated against Jews and Catholics. Rabbis and cardinals responded by denouncing Truman. He was hit hard by the boomerang which he had thrown. But what was more interesting was that he should have been surprised at Eisenhower's resentment. He had an engagingly innocent belief that Eisenhower should expiate his sin of seeking the Republican nomination by going round the country paying tribute to Roosevelt, Truman, Marshall and Acheson, under or with whom he had served during Democratic administrations, but that his own denunciations of Republicans were the legitimate ammunition of healthy, hardhitting politics. As a result he drove Eisenhower into muttering that he would break a precedent which had stood since 1801 and refuse to drive down Pennsylvania Avenue with Truman on Inauguration Day. He would meet him at the Capitol steps.
This menace was no more carried out than was Truman's own threat that he would not campaign. But the fissure was never healed. It at least had the advantage that it took Truman's mind off his Stevenson resentments. Strong though these were, he would still have much preferred the Governor to beat the General. He was one of the few major politicians whose commitment to his party was much deeper than any personal dislikes. At least from mid-October onwards there was little doubt that Eisenhower would win. There was no foolish boasting in his talking about what he would do at the inauguration ceremony. The result gave him a majority of about 10% or 6½ million votes over Stevenson. He carried 38 out of 48 states, defeating the Governor in Illinois
and leaving him mostly only with a South eroded around the edges.
It was not as overwhelming a victory as those achieved by Roosevelt in 1946, Johnson in 1964, Nixon in 1972, or Reagan in 1984, but it was very substantial. Truman disliked the result but was not surprised by it. He indulged in no public recrimination against the defeated Stevenson. He had a small White House dinner party for him in early December and worked out with him future dispositions in the Democratic Party machine.
9
In his
Memoirs,
published in 1955, he wrote a detached but not bitter criticism of Stevenson's conduct. âHis was a great campaign and did credit to the party and the nation ⦠His ability to put into inspiring words the principles of the Democratic Party earned him fame and world-wide recognition. I hold him in the highest regard for his intellectual courage.'
9
However, he also calmly rehearsed his objections of the time to the shape of Stevenson's candidature and came to the conclusion that, had Stevenson gone straight for the nomination from January 1952 and worked more closely with the traditional Democratic base, he might have won at least 3 million more votes, hardly enough to win but enough to make the result close. As the 1956 election approached, Truman withheld his support from Stevenson and gave it unwaveringly to Harriman, up to and over the Convention, once more in Chicago, at which Stevenson was comfortably re-nominated, but certainly not drafted.
Between the 1952 election and Inauguration Day Eisenhower came once to the White House. It was on November 18th, and was a mutually unsatisfactory meeting. Eisenhower was all buttoned up, and Truman superficially at least, tried a little too easily to let bygones be bygones. He offered Eisenhower some commemorative paintings of local heroes given by Latin American governments, which were refused, a globe which Eisenhower had given to Truman in Germany in 1945, the return of which was ânot very graciously' accepted, and some fairly gratuitous bits of advice about how to run the presidential office, which Truman thought âwent into one ear and out of the other'.
10
After that they did not see each other again until January 20th. That was a spectacularly prickly occasion. Eisenhower declined the supposedly traditional luncheon invitation from the Trumans.
10
He did, however, resile from his earlier intention to make Truman pick him up at the Statler Hotel. He drove to the White House but did not get out of the car. During the drive the only conversation exchanged seems to have been about Eisenhower not having seen a previous inaugural, for he had not been there in 1948 in order, so he is alleged to have self-regardingly said, not to attract attention away from the re-elected President. âYou were not here in 1948,' Truman emolliently replied, âbecause I did not send for you ⦠if I had ⦠you would have come.'
11
Eisenhower is then said to have complained that the outgoing President had ordered his son, John Eisenhower, home from Korea to attend the ceremony and, no doubt by so doing, embarrass the incoming one. The fact that, three days later, Eisenhower wrote to Truman to thank him for this act of consideration, and indeed for his general courtesy during the handover, does not invalidate the unfortunate picture of two gentlemen in their sixties, both outstanding servants of the greatest democracy in the world, behaving in a way which would have been discreditable to two small boys of eight.
After November 4th the pace of activity began to slow down. Truman was still Chief Executive, but there was no point in trying to execute anything which would not come to fruition in the next few weeks. Already in September he had been told that the incoming mail had fallen below 5,000 pieces a day for the first time during his presidency. This was normal, he was told by the chief clerk (who must have had a long memory for similar circumstances had not occurred since the last days of Hoover) âwhen the White House occupant was not coming back'. The lack of pressure did not reduce the length of his days. But it did give him more time for committing rumination to paper. On November 24th at 5.00 a.m., allowing for a few differences of style from Waugh and background from Lord Marchmain, he was
almost parodying the deathbed soliloquy in
Brideshead Revisited
:
11
âThe White House is quiet as a church. I can hear the planes at the airport warming up. As always there is a traffic roarâsounds like wind and rain through the magnolias.
âBess's mother is dying across the hallway. She was ninety years old August 4th. Vivian's [his brother's] mother-in-law passed on Saturday at eleven thirty. She also was ninety just a month after or before Mrs Wallace. When you are sixty-eight death watches come often â¦
âSince last September Mother Wallace has been dying -even before that, but we've kept doctors and nurses with her night and day and have kept her alive. We had hoped -and still hopeâshe'll survive until Christmas. Our last as President.
âThis old House is a most remarkable one. Started in 1792 by George Washington's laying of the corner stone. Burned in 1814, by the British. Occupied by John and Abigail Adams â¦
âJefferson receiving diplomats in house slippers and dressing gown. Dolley Madison loading pictures and books and documents into a wagon and escaping just two jumps ahead of the British â¦
âThen Monroe refinishing the rehabilitated old place with his own and some imported French furniture. And catching hell because he sent to Paris to buy things he could not obtain in the primitive U.S.A.!