Chapter 73: (Searching for a) Heart of Gold - The Democratic Primaries and Convention
Above: Senator Lyndon Johnson (D - TX) and Senator Edmund Muskie (D - ME), the two major Democratic candidates for President in the aftermath of President Romney’s assassination.
President Romney’s assassination rocked the Democratic Party to its core with the same intensity as it did the GOP. As Presidential campaigning resumed following the two week moratorium on April 9th, the “People’s Party” came to the realization that their electoral situation had changed dramatically. A public which had previously been lukewarm on the Republicans and their handling of the country’s affairs was now tripping over itself to shower the newly minted administration in its support and solidarity. It seemed to party insiders and political pundits that the party’s previous vision of a “hop, skip, and a jump back to the White House” would no longer be tenable. Indeed, momentum in the race seemed to shift in exactly the opposite direction. News of the “Watergate Agreement” and the emergence of a Bush/Reagan unity ticket only heightened Democratic fears and led to a new terror entirely: the prospect of not only a GOP victory in November, but an absolute avalanche, a landslide. Some Democrats panicked and called for the field of candidates to narrow out as quickly as possible so that the Republicans’ unity could be matched and challenged. The likelihood of that, however was looking increasingly slim. Two wings of the party: the Johnsonian “New South” and the Kennedy-oriented northern liberals dug their heels in and marshaled support for their chosen candidates. Battle lines were being drawn, and despite the wishes of a myriad of minor competitors, the race was really coming down to two men: titans of the party in the Upper Chamber of Congress. With a pledge not to actively campaign not keeping primary elections from happening, the Democrats of Wisconsin convened on April 4th to cast their ballots for their preferred candidate. Though several candidates performed well, the voters overwhelmingly favored Senator Ed Muskie of Maine, with his hard-working background, folksy roots and liberal economic agenda which promised to protect labor and the interests of blue collar America.
This victory marked the third major primary win for Muskie, the others being New Hampshire and Illinois, and cemented his status as the Democrats’ front-runner. The endorsements of former rival Senator George McGovern (D - SD) and more recently, Senators Robert F. Kennedy (D - NY) and Ted Kennedy (D - MA) meant that Muskie enjoyed widespread liberal support and was rapidly marshaling predominantly northern constituencies in the Democratic coalition: Jews, Catholics, urban labor unions, women, intellectuals, and some African-Americans, to his cause. The Senator maintained a cultivated image of being perennially calm and collected about the issues, and many attributed that calm, placid countenance to his continued popularity after the death of President Romney. The break in campaigning had cost Muskie, however. Before the assassination, the Senator from Maine had been surging in popularity, vigorously barnstorming Wisconsin, and sending surrogates to warm up for him in Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and Ohio. All three were states Muskie believed he needed to win in definitively if he were to knock Hubert Humphrey out of the race for good. Humphrey had fallen to third place in national opinion polls and was shocked that his status as one of the country’s leading liberal voices alone was not enough to let him waltz to the nomination. He was still a potent political force, particularly in the Midwestern industrial cities, though. Still bitter at being “robbed” of the White House four years prior by what he saw as inadequate support from liberal activists and President Kennedy’s suggestion of adding George Smathers to the ticket, Humphrey refused to surrender what was likely to be his last shot at the Presidency to another northern liberal without a fight. As McGovern bowed out, and joined the Kennedys in standing firm behind Edmund Muskie, Humphrey doubled down and resolved to fight harder than ever in the races to come. Over the next month or so, Humphrey drove all over the Midwest in a rented bus, stumping hard against Muskie and trading victories and delegate counts with him in: Massachusetts (Muskie win), Pennsylvania (Humphrey win), Ohio (Muskie win), and Indiana (Humphrey win). All the while, the party’s northern wing tore itself to shreds and argued about which of their chosen sons was more likely to successfully oppose the Republicans in November, often damaging each other’s preferred leader in the process. Bobby Kennedy, frustrated at the infighting pointed, exasperated to the electoral map. “We need to come together!” He warned. “Or someone else is going to wait until we’re all tired, then clean house.”
The southern wing, on the other hand, quietly solidified behind its foremost architect. Senator Lyndon Baines Johnson, the “Phoenix of Texas”, picked up staggering wins in Florida, Tennessee, North Carolina, Nebraska, West Virginia, and Maryland, each time taking well over 75% of the vote and the lion’s share of the states’ delegates. LBJ’s platform: moderate to conservative social policy, a strong emphasis on populist New Deal economics, and interventionism against communist influence abroad, combined with a strain of religious support from the likes of Billy Graham and other congregationalists rallied massive support for him across Dixie. This was impressive, as it manifested even as Johnson and his followers insisted on a “new outlook” on race relations in the country. Speaking boldly in front of a crowd of white, working class voters in Nashville, Johnson railed against what he saw as the injustice of old southern politics:
“These old school ex-conservative party types are a riot, I tell you! Well, they’re a riot until you consider how crooked they all were. They tried to convince you that all your problems were caused by the colored man, and prayed you’d never wake up to what was really going on, what they were really doing to you. They lived by one mantra, folks:
If you can convince the lowest white man he’s better than the best colored man, he won’t notice you’re picking his pocket. Hell, give him somebody to look down on, and he’ll empty his pockets for you. They robbed you blind, my fellow southerners. And for that, I will never forgive them, and neither should you. The colored man is not your enemy. The colored man is your friend, neighbor, and fellow American. Your true enemies are those with power who would seek to deny you all the benefits to which you are entitled as a member of a free and prosperous society. It is such a society in which we live, and a greater, better society which we we build together.” The crowd cheered and the following day, Johnson carried the state of Tennessee with nearly 80% of the vote.
Despite being as old a face as could be found in Democratic Presidential politics that year, Johnson, and the machine he constructed across the south represented a new kind of Democrat: accepting of civil rights, but still socially conservative on issues like abortion, gay rights, access to contraception, and the death penalty. Johnson believed it was possible to build a “great society” without the need to necessarily agree with all the social mores of the progressive left, and southerners welcomed his return to national prominence. Johnson found vocal support from countless southern politicians, who used his rhetoric and positions as the foundations for their own ambitions and message. Governors Jimmy Carter of Georgia, and Reubin Askew of Florida, not to mention the former “Mr. Segregation” and ACP Presidential nominee himself, Governor George Wallace of Alabama all sung Johnson’s praises, and hoped to serve as delegates at the party’s ‘72 convention to help rally the floor for him. But southern state primaries alone would not a nominee make. LBJ realized this, and so Johnson turned his attention to gathering additional support wherever he could. While Humphrey and Muskie battled for control of the North and Midwest, Johnson focused his campaign’s resources on the West Coast and Southwest. Golden, sunny California, with all her magnificence and large delegate count, could be Johnson’s key to preventing a deadlocked convention, as could more conservative Arizona, the oft-neglected New Mexico, and the lush green climes of Oregon. His campaign reached out to Scoop Jackson, of Washington State, a traditional opponent of the party’s Kennedy wing, who dropped out after the Wisconsin primary and enthusiastically extended his support to Johnson, perhaps hoping that he would make a suitable running mate should Johnson secure the nomination. Jackson’s personal aide and political protege, Purple Heart recipient and interventionist activist John Kerry became a tireless campaigner for Johnson, and announced his own candidacy for the House in his native Massachusetts’ third congressional district.
On May 16th, Johnson’s campaign manager, Walter Jenkins and a carefully crafted ground game orchestrated the season’s greatest upset, rallying conservative Democrats across Michigan to deliver the state’s primary (and the largest chunk of its delegate count) to LBJ. The shock of a Johnson victory so far north of the Mason-Dixon Line served as a wake up call to the party’s liberal wing, and seemed to vindicate Senator Kennedy’s worries, but it also built massive momentum for Johnson’s campaign and brought his message to a wider national audience. Carefully avoiding overt criticism of the administration in the delicate post-assassination political climate, Johnson focused his public message on positive plans for the future, while privately using every dirty trick he could think of to discredit his opponents, often through anonymous op-eds and the comments of aides and surrogates. He decried Hubert Humphrey in vicious tv attack ads as “a sore loser who doesn’t know when to take his marbles and go home”, and Ed Muskie as “a wimp, a total pushover to the interests of radicals and hippies”. Though not everyone who saw them was a fan of these murky advertisements, their message stuck in the minds of those who did. Bill Moyers, LBJ’s leading ad consultant, was the man behind them, and his spots would make him feared in the minds of any who stood to run against his chosen candidates. He became something of a liberal bogeyman to those “in the know” about American politics.
The last handful of state primaries played out much as the experts and party insiders expected them to. A general lack of enthusiasm for a second Humphrey nomination cost the Minnesotan greatly in the last few contests, as he watched most of his support shift to Muskie, or to his left to Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm of New York, whose campaign picked up steam, then surged as the White House refused to categorically deny the possibility of American military involvement in Rhodesia alongside the UK. Chisholm’s message galvanized a “new left” who felt betrayed by mainstream Democratic politics and wanted to see greater influence for progressive social movements at the party’s convention.Youthful activists not unlike the YAF college students on the right who had helped catapult Ronald Reagan onto the GOP Presidential ticket, Chisholm’s supporters took her small, largely symbolic campaign and made her into a serious contender for the White House, winning her the New Jersey and New York primaries, albeit narrowly. The “winner take all” nature of the last few primaries upped the stakes for all the candidates, and as huge numbers of delegates flowed into the leading contenders’ corners, it became clear that no one would be heading into Miami the undisputed nominee.
Delegate Count before the 1972 DNC: (1,508 needed to clinch the nomination) of 3,014 total
Edmund Muskie: 724
Lyndon Johnson: 488
Shirley Chisholm: 248
Hubert Humphrey: 213
Uncommitted: 1,341
The 1972 Democratic National Convention opened its doors on July 10th at the Miami Beach Convention Center and was widely seen at the time and in history books since as an absolute media spectacle. Unlike the Republican convention which would follow a little more than a month later, which was practically part coronation for President Bush and part royal wedding between the party’s establishment and grassroots conservative wings, the DNC was poised to be a brawl. Millions tuned in to watch quorum calls, near-riots in the stands, and furious Johnson and Muskie supporters hurl insults at each other, all while Chisholm and Humphrey delegates struggled to even be heard and uncommitted delegates were bribed, threatened, and cajoled into backing one candidate over another. The first night was a mess, to say the least. The Muskie and Johnson campaigns went to work convincing uncommitted delegates not to “throw away their votes” and to instead back a horse that could actually win the whole thing. The south flocked of course to Johnson, while much of the north coalesced behind Muskie, though there were some constituencies which remained unconvinced, including major power broker and Chicago Mayor Richard Daley, who insisted on keeping his support behind Humphrey for the time being, and delegates such as New York Congressman Gore Vidal, who insisted that Chisholm was the future of the party and the country. As predicted, most of the free delegates rushed to one of the two front-runners, but neither garnered enough support to push them through to victory:
First Ballot - Presidential Nomination:
Edmund Muskie - 1,065
Lyndon Johnson - 1,011
Hubert Humphrey - 457
Shirley Chisholm - 268
Other: 213
All campaigns were understandably frustrated with the outcome of the first round of voting. Muskie supporters fumed at how close the race with Johnson had now become, while Johnson’s staff feared Humphrey or Chisholm dropping out and telling their delegates to swing to Muskie. Such fears in the latter camp were all too founded, as Bobby Kennedy and George McGovern were already on the phone with Senator Humphrey and Congresswoman Chisholm respectively, begging them both to do exactly that. If either one of them decided to do so and back Senator Muskie, the whole thing would be over. Kennedy and Johnson especially took an interest in ending the pressure cooker before it turned into a full blown fiasco. News outlets were spinning the story as “disarray among the Democrats” and only furthered the narrative that the party had little means of countering GOP strength in this election cycle. “They’re divided to say the least.” commented a leering, jubilant William F. Buckley, who had been brought on by ABC once again to provide partisan insight into the goings on of the national conventions. “I’m left to wonder if there is any chance of this party reconciling their differences anytime soon.” Because his old liberal rival Gore Vidal was now too busy serving in Congress to appear in debates alongside him as he had in 1968, Buckley was now joined by renegade journalist Hunter S. Thompson. The pair provided colorful commentary and back and forth in between bits of objective reporting from Max Robinson, the first black news anchor of a major network nightly news program and seemed to get along better than Buckley had with Vidal.
While Buckley and Thompson picked apart the goings on, Johnson made a bold power play to secure his ambition once and for all. Living former Presidents often made the trek to party conventions to deliver speeches and stand in solidarity with the new candidate, to pass the torch so to speak, and lend any popularity or credibility they could to the next generation. President Kennedy was already scheduled to speak on the third and final day of the convention, though as of yet he had observed tradition in declining to officially endorse a candidate, believing doing so would be beneath the dignity of a former President, even one as practically universally beloved as him. He did, in private, encourage Bobby’s efforts to keep Johnson off the ticket. Having worked in close proximity with him for nearly four years in the White House, JFK did not believe that LBJ was the sort of man who should be the head of the Democratic Party. “He’s mean, vindictive, and power hungry,” Jack said to Bobby over a phone call from Hyannis Port to Bobby and Ethel’s hotel room. “Exactly the opposite of what makes for a good President. You’ve got to stop him, even if it means throwing my name around a little.” The implication that Jack would come out in support of Muskie as political cover for liberal Humphrey and Chisholm supporters to throw their weight behind the Maine Senator was a godsend, Bobby realized, but one that ultimately came too late.
Though too frail to attend the Convention in person, former President Harry Truman was as passionate as ever about politics, and eager to see his beloved party delivered into what he saw as Lyndon Johnson’s capable hands. Contacted by Johnson’s wife, Lady Bird, and lobbied hard by the Johnson staff for weeks beforehand, Truman finally did what President Kennedy had been reluctant to do, and gave his endorsement to LBJ via a written statement to the delegates in Miami. The statement, which was met by thunderous applause when read by Congressman Wilbur Mills (D - AR) on the floor of the convention, was the death knell for the campaigns of the other candidates, and everyone at the Convention Center knew it. Watching on television from their hotel room, Ethel Kennedy reported seeing her husband bury his face in his hands and choke back angry, bitter tears. “Well we’re licked now, honey.” He said to her. “Truman’s gone and handed him the keys to the Kingdom.” The second round of voting was held shortly afterward and confirmed Kennedy’s instincts. Humphrey sensed which way the wind was blowing and hoping for an administration with whom he could work to cement his own legacy, he called on his delegates to vote for Johnson on the Second Ballot. Humphrey’s delegates, combined with the remaining uncommitteds sealed the deal and brought forth a rather disappointing truth for the Kennedys: Johnson and his conservative, southern wing of the party were now firmly in control.
“What are you going to do?” Ethel asked, and squeezed her husband’s shoulders.
Shaking with silent rage, Bobby stood and pulled on his jacket. “The only thing to do. Go down there, shake his hand, smile for the cameras, and say ‘happy times are here again!’” The New York Senator did exactly that, save calling Jack and Senator Muskie to express his regret and disappointment first.
“The very thing Kennedy had gotten into national politics to prevent: Lyndon Johnson’s nomination to the Presidency, had come to pass. A politics of brutality, cruelty, and cutthroat power brokering took hold of the Democrats that year, and threatened to hide forever the spirit that John F. Kennedy and his brother had labored so long to build throughout the wonder years of the 1960’s. Robert Kennedy did what was expected of him that night in Miami, same as his elder brother, the elder statesman, did the next night, when he spoke to the convention and lauded Johnson for his time in the Senate and as Vice President. In the end though, behind the smiles, fire burned in the eyes of Robert Kennedy, a fire of defiance. This rivalry between the two: north and south, privileged and self-made, liberal idealist and backroom-dealing cynic; was far from over.” - Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.,
To Seek a Newer World: The Life and Times of Robert F. Kennedy.
Second Ballot - Presidential Nomination:
Lyndon Johnson - 1,671 (Nominee)
Edmund Muskie - 1,065
Shirley Chisholm - 268
Others - 10
…
A triumphant Johnson, elated at having finally reached the precipice of achieving the ultimate goal in American public service, to which he had dedicated his entire adult life, vigorously thanked his staff and turned his attention to the last remaining matter of import at the convention: the Vice Presidential nomination. Around others, the nominee joked that he “didn’t need to worry too much about who’s VP. Anyone can do it. Hell, I did!” But deep down, he knew better than most how seriously the job would and needed to be taken. He had nearly ascended to the Presidency when JFK had been clipped by that wacko in Dallas, and now his opponent in November had actually come into office in exactly the same way. He knew that his rise to the top of the national ticket came as a surprise to many in the party and hurt the feelings of the naive Prince Bobby and his fans. Much as he found their wishy-washy style distasteful, Johnson knew he would need the Kennedys and their wing of the party behind him if he wanted to win. His running mate could be just the sort of olive branch he needed to make that happen. Add to that the fact that Johnson’s cardiovascular health wasn’t exactly the most stable situation either, and the Texan knew that his choice of a VP could have tremendous consequences should he win this thing. He needed to be absolutely certain that his choice would not only help him claw this election back from the Republicans, but be able to govern, heaven forbid he should ever need to.
He thought about offering the spot to Humphrey or Muskie, but the former would want to remain in the Senate, no doubt, and the other was said to be “personally hurt” by Johnson’s attack ads. He never even called to concede or offer his congratulations to LBJ on account of these feelings, a move the Texan found utterly disrespectful. Clearly, Muskie would not do. Congresswoman Chisholm was already being drafted as a potential VP candidate by her delegates, and a black woman from the north on the ticket could go a long way toward helping counter claims that Johnson wasn’t progressive enough. Chisholm herself had already killed that idea in its cradle however, saying she would “never serve on the same ticket as a warmonger like LBJ”. Privately, Chisholm admired Johnson for what he had done to help pass
The Civil Rights Act of 1964, something she felt he did not get enough credit for when compared to President Kennedy. Nonetheless, that option seemed off the table as well. On the suggestion of Senate Majority Whip and faithful ally Russell Long, Johnson finally made the offer to Ohio Senator and former Mercury Program Astronaut John Glenn. A no nonsense moderate with a strong reputation for deal-making, common sense, and good natured governance since his arrival in the Senate in 1964, Glenn also had the added benefits of starpower, being from a crucial swing state, and a personal friend and close ally of Bobby Kennedy. Though not satisfying to everyone at the convention, especially hippies and anti-war activists who demonstrated outside the convention center despite the Florida heat, the ticket was the result of a long and tumultuous struggle. “The finest steel,” Johnson said in his acceptance speech when talking about the race ahead. “Is forged in the hottest fire. Senator Glenn and I had to fight to earn this nomination, but it has shown the American people that we've been through the fire and we can take the heat! Let our opponents in November claim the same, and we’ll prove ‘em wrong!” The arena filled with chants of “LBJ! LBJ!” and Bobby Kennedy, forlorn, hid his face from the television cameras by kissing Ethel’s cheek. The race for the White House was on.
Democratic Ticket for 1972: JOHNSON/GLENN
Next Time on Blue Skies in Camelot: A Check-In with Latin America