Chapter 76: Go All the Way - The 1972 Presidential Election
Above: Senator Lyndon Johnson (D - TX) and President George Bush (R - TX) campaign for the White House in Fort Worth and Dallas, Texas respectively. Though the President and the Republicans seemed to have a definite edge early in the campaign, Johnson’s tireless campaigning and “down and dirty” style of politics soon made the election a fighting race.
“The hardest thing about any political campaign is how to win without proving that you are unworthy of winning.” - Adlai E. Stevenson
When covering the 1972 Presidential election, historians have a tendency to paint pictures which are hyperbolic, bordering on the mythic with regard to the candidates. The issues over which President Bush and Senator Johnson argued take a backseat to grandiose portraits of two men in the prime of their public careers, duking it out in a bare knuckled brawl for control of the future of the country they loved. There is a kernel of truth to the allegations that ‘72 was more about personality than it ought to have been. So too is there validity in the claim that the race took place under the shadow of mourning still not cleared from the assassination of President Romney. Had Arthur Bremer, who by July was on trial in the biggest media spectacle since the Manson Case, only missed, or been stopped by the Secret Service, many thought it likely that the President would have been renominated and thereafter reelected to a second term. Nonetheless, the show, as they say, must go on, and go on it did. Now-President George Bush began the general election campaign with a defiant, hopeful speech at the Republican National Convention in Miami, in which he laid out what he believed to be the goals of his administration and spoke on how to prevent the creation of more Arthur Bremers: “Those who commit evil will be punished. But I hope to stand for a new harmony, a greater tolerance.” He began. “We've come far, but I think we need a new harmony among the people of our country. We're on a journey through the latter half of the twentieth century, and we've got to leave that tired old baggage of bigotry and prejudice behind. This means teaching troubled children through your presence that there's such a thing as reliable, unconditional love. Some would say it's soft and insufficiently tough to care about these things. But where is it written that we must act as if we do not care, as if we are not moved? Well, I am moved. I want a
kinder, gentler nation, which will prevent these acts of violence from overcoming our generous, loving spirit.” These kind words from the leader of the free world did much to bind together the wounds of a people in despair. That night at the convention, attendees openly wept and applauded the President for twenty minutes before they would allow him to continue with his speech. “I believe the spirit of President Romney is within all of us,” The new President roared. “Because that spirit is the spirit of our great country. God bless you, and God bless the United States of America!” As the crowd cheered and red, white, and blue balloons and confetti cascaded from the ceiling onto himself, his running mate: Governor Ronald Reagan of California, and the whole first family, Bush looked out into the crowd and saw an approving smile from his daughter in law, Hillary Rodham Bush. She, First Lady Barbara Bush, and Hillary’s husband, the President’s oldest son, would criss-cross the nation, stumping hard for him and cultivating an image of the commander in chief as a uniter, a healer, and a wonderful family man, putting to rest the air of suspicion surrounding him in the aftermath of the Hoover Affair. They would be joined by Mitt Romney, the slain President’s youngest child, and former First Lady Lenore, who called upon American women to stand by the party who “has championed their rights the longest”. With the E.R.A. now being sent off to the states for consideration, this was no small political wager.
This strategy: pushing President Bush as the natural heir to George Romney’s legacy paid off. Right out of the gate, the President and Governor Reagan saw a fifteen point surge in national polling by the end of August. Continued public sympathy combined with a strong convention bump and a largely united party structure gave the GOP several advantages over their Democratic opponents, but Bush knew better than to count his chickens before they hatched. The Republican Party may have been able to agree on Bush/Reagan for the Presidential ticket, but the platform debates at the convention were rife with contention and contradiction. For instance, Bush had all but come out as moderately “pro-choice”, that is, against the government’s right to deny a woman an abortion. Governor Reagan, North Carolina Senatorial candidate Jesse Helms, and Senator Strom Thurmond of South Carolina however were all shifting ever further toward staunch anti-abortion positions. The issue had not become a major one in politics yet, but the disagreements on this and other social issues portented other problems for the party down the road. YAF activists who turned out in droves during the primaries to support their hero, Reagan’s bid for the White House, cooled in their enthusiasm somewhat when the Sheriff of Sacramento “caved to establishment pressure” and joined the ticket as its running mate. As the Bush and Reagan staffs came together to now work together toward one common election, old hostilities from the campaign trail reared their ugly heads again. It seemed that the only thing that united the moderate-centrists who supported the President and the paleoconservative supporters of Governor Reagan was a common desire to defeat the Democrats and hold onto power. What’s more, the President knew, even if only by reputation, the type of campaigner and politician that Lyndon Baines Johnson was. His fellow Texan wasn’t about to lose his last chance at the White House without putting up one hell of a fight. “Get me daily updates about what he’s saying about us out on the trail.” Bush instructed Deputy White House Chief of Staff and his primary campaign manager, Dick Cheney. “I want eyes on LBJ at all times, is that clear?”
“Crystal, sir.” The young man replied. Cheney got to work building a campaign infrastructure that he hoped would be sure to weather any storm and turnout Republican faithful for the President in overwhelming numbers. Roger Ailes, a television executive and media consultant, was brought on first by Paul Laxalt and now Dick Cheney to serve as “Director of Media Relations” for the Bush/Reagan campaign, and immediately got to work creating television ads and spinning narratives about Johnson, his past ethical conduct, and his ability to serve based on his precarious health. Cheney and Ailes later admitted that “it wasn’t the cleanest campaign in history”, but strongly felt that it was the only way to ensure victory against Johnson’s “New Southern” machine and working class roots. One temptation the dual campaign managers did resist came from a suggestion by Secretary of State Richard Nixon, who felt that the best way to ensure a Republican victory in the race was to wiretap, then burgle the Democratic National Campaign HQ at the Watergate Hotel, in Washington in order to spy on the activities of the their opponents. Nixon had made a similar suggestion to President Romney before his assassination, but it had proven itself to be a non-starter with him as well. Cheney and Ailes would play dirty, but they would not cheat or break the law to win.
…
While Bush got down to business, running the country and looking Presidential while doing it, Senator Johnson made it his overriding mission to tear down every inch of progress the Republicans made at trying to defeat him. He released vicious ads of his own, largely avoiding attacks on the President, out of respect for his son’s war record, but eviscerating Governor Reagan, and accusing the GOP of “selling out to right-wing radicalism”. In a now-legendary ad featuring a little girl picking flower petals with a countdown to armageddon ticking in the background before giving way to a terrifying BOOM and a mushroom cloud, Johnson questioned whether Reagan, “a Goldwater-ite” extremist, could be trusted with the nuclear launch codes should anything happen to President Bush. Appearing at stump speeches dressed down in a cowboy hat, plaid shirts, and denim jeans, the “Phoenix of Texas” copied his former boss, President Kennedy’s playbook from the 1964 election against Nelson Rockefeller: make yourself out to be a man of the people. LBJ knew that he couldn’t “out class” the President. It wasn’t in his nature. Furthermore, the White House had access to Air Force One, the Rose Garden, and all the other illustrious symbols of power and stability the nation’s capital had to offer. The only narrative Johnson could spin to counter that was the one he went with: that Bush was untested, unready to be the leader of the most powerful nation in the history of the world, and that the country would be better suited with a man of experience in this time of heartache and restlessness. He also did what he could to play up Bush’s sometimes awkward speaking style and dorkiness. Johnson recognized the foreign policy achievements of the Romney Administration, but wondered aloud at rallies: “Is President Bush up to the task of continuing that good work? I don’t know about you all, but he seems like a bit of a wimp to me.” That particular moniker: wimp, stuck with Bush throughout the campaign, and gave him no end of grief. When supporters countered that the President was a war hero, a tough negotiator with Congress, and a strong leader abroad, Johnson simply shrugged. “I’m not saying he doesn’t have his moments. A broken clock is still right twice a day.”
Essential to Johnson’s strategy was a victory in the battle over the nation’s electorally rich industrial heartland. In 1968, George Romney carried many of these states by razor thin pluralities. These were largely attained as Wallace and the ACP siphoned votes away from Humphrey and the Democrats, which led Johnson to believe that with his more conservative wing of the Democratic Party now firmly in power, he could swing the midwest and win the whole thing. Already counting the South, which he was convinced would hold for him, New York and half of New England, all he would need to do is flip Pennsylvania and Ohio (which happened to be the home of his running mate) and he would have enough electoral votes to carry him to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. The major wrench in his works was that voter demographics had shifted since the 1968 elections. Whereas in ‘68 the Republican ticket was made up of two decidedly centrist moderates, 1972’s ticket brought the charismatic Ronald Reagan and all his conservative appeal to bare against a simultaneously more conservative Democratic Party. New York State, long a Democratic bastion that had even voted against its own popular Governor in 1964 to side with President Kennedy, was now being governed by a Buckley in Albany and trending Republican in numerous opinion polls of likely voters. The vicious primary season turned what should have been Johnson’s liberal base against him, and encouraged many “New Frontier Democrats” to ultimately stay home on Election Day. Johnson also struggled with cracks in his own party’s voter coalition, as African-Americans looked fondly on President Bush as the rightful successor to President Romney, a man whom their communities had generally considered a supporter and a friend. Though black turnout for Bush was somewhat less than it had been for his predecessor four years prior, and Johnson made strong overtures to win African-American support, Bush still managed to snag 20% of their votes in 1972, severely hurting the Johnson/Glenn ticket in recently integrated northern cities. Johnson would be deeply troubled by these numbers, pointing out that Reagan especially was known for dog whistling with his rhetoric of “law and order” used to stoke white prejudice. The California Governor shot back that Johnson should “Keep quiet. It’s [Johnson’s] party that plays host now to George Wallace, ‘Mr. Segregation’ himself, not ours.”
The issues which historians all too often neglect to mention were, ironically, never far from either candidate’s command on the trail. The President referred to himself as “the bread and butter candidate”, concerned with tackling fully the nation’s developing inflation problem, and never turning a blind eye to domestic issues whilst sorting out complicated diplomatic missions abroad. Bush pointed to the flourishing rail industry, made emblematic in the 1971 creation of Amtrak, officially the National Railroad Passenger Corporation, as signs of the country’s strengthened economy and ever developing infrastructure. Under Bush’s watchful eye, the Department of Transportation was planning new high speed rail lines to connect major cities along the coasts and eventually throughout the heartland. These new trains carried a hefty investment on the front end, but were energy efficient, reliable, and provided Americans with the possibility of commuting great distances to and from work everyday, which was sure to increase worker availability and thus bolster the economy. Bush coupled his infrastructure package with a vow to press the states’ legislatures to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment for women, which had passed with the so-called Hayden rider on July 13th, 1972, a promise to draft another constitutional amendment to secure and codify the Presidential line of succession in the wake of the Romney assassination, and his most important pledge of all: he called it “W.I.N.” - whip inflation now. By election season, inflation in the U.S. had ballooned to nearly 5.3%, well above the average expected annual amount of 3.5%. President Bush and Governor Reagan blamed excessive government spending - “perpetrated by an unregulated and wasteful Democratic Congress”, and swore that if elected in November, they would bring the beast to heel. Though Reagan walked back some of the campaign pledges he had made during the primary campaign, especially his promise to “eradicate” the Assistance for Families Plan (AFP), the Gipper maintained most of his conservative rhetoric, and called on the American people to “clean up the country, and send the welfare bums back to work” with a vote for the GOP in November. Across the nation, Americans insecure in the wake of losing a President to an assassin’s bullets and continued international uncertainty saw plenty of hope in the youthful President Bush and sunny Governor Reagan. The Republicans’ campaign slogan: “The Time is Now” seemed to capture the vigor and positive energy which the two men possessed between them, as well as the promise of forward action to solve the country’s problems.
On the issues, Johnson built his campaign on another hopeful message: “It’s time for a New Direction, toward a greater society for all”. The Texan barnstormed the country, often speaking and shaking hands until his muscles ached and his legs were near to collapse, about the “good work” he believed he and Senator Glenn could do in the Executive Mansion. He lauded President Kennedy’s New Frontier, but argued that it now needed to be protected from poaching and budget cuts by the Republicans. “Throughout the history of our country,” Johnson boomed to adoring supporters in Little Rock, Arkansas. “There are those who seek to move us forward and those who seek to hold us back. For decades, we have been held back from the true progress we could be making by reactionaries and nincompoops like my opponents, who say we’ve gone too far in helping the little man with the long arm of the law.” The crowd booed loudly and a shit-eating grin slowly crept across the Democratic candidate’s face. “Well folks, you know what I say to them? I say we haven’t gone far enough! As long as these right-wingers posture and pose and try to talk down to us, our freedom is never truly safe. Freedom from the crippling throws of poverty, freedom from worry when we get sick and don’t have health insurance because we’re too poor or too old to afford it. You want to know the difference between today’s Democratic and Republican parties? Governor Reagan calls Medicare ‘socialism’. I call it common sense.” These competing messages and stances battled their way across the map and the hearts and minds of a divided people as September bled into October and the race heated up and narrowed. Johnson and Glenn’s tireless, exhausting regimen of speeches, interviews, and media events left both men burnt out, but was finally starting to make a dent in Bush/Reagan’s lead. The New Frontier coalition began to warm back up to the Democratic ticket, as Senators Robert Kennedy and Edmund Muskie turned out for campaign events to stump for down ballot races and give Johnson their support. Jews, Catholics, intellectuals/academics, about half the country’s women, unionized workers, and most African-Americans dug their heels in and vowed to help Johnson/Glenn pull off the upset of the century. Even former President Kennedy took a break from penning
The People’s History of the United States of America to appear alongside his former Vice President at a whistle stop in Boston. “LBJ shall be the vote of JFK!” He declared with a big smile to the roaring crowd. All of this certainly helped bring a Democratic victory into the realm of possibility, but was ultimately not enough to carry the ticket across the finish line to triumph.
On Election Night: Tuesday, November 7th, 1972, George Herbert Walker Bush was elected by healthy popular and electoral margins to the office of President in his own right. No longer merely the next in a tragically long list of VP’s to rise to the occasion in the event of their predecessor’s untimely demise, Bush would now be given a chance to leave his own, independent mark on world affairs, and ultimately, history. Celebrating at the White House residence with his children and Babs, Bush only paused in his revelry to make a series of personal calls. First, he reached out to Lenore Romney, who, with tears in her eyes on the other end of the line praised the President for his perseverance, and said to him: “Our hopes, our dreams, our future… it all lies with you now, Mr. President. My husband is watching over you. I know you won’t let him, or us down.” Bush thanked the former First Lady, then turned his attention to Dick Cheney, whom the President had asked to meet him for a few minutes in the Oval before they turned out to greet their supporters for the victory speech in the East Room.
“You did a great job out there, Dick.” The President said with a smile and a pat on the younger man’s back. “We wouldn’t be celebrating tonight if it weren’t for all your hard work!”
Cheney shrugged, but allowed himself a grin in appreciation. “You’re too kind, sir. Really, you and Governor Reagan did all the heavy lifting.”
Bush waved away the thought with his hand. “Listen Dick, now that this is over, I have to be honest with you. I’m thrilled to be back for the next four years, it’s an absolute dream come true. Men work their whole lives to get where I’m standing and I’ve made promises to some very important people and myself.” The President stared wistfully at the hallowed walls around him. “I’m going to make every day count. I can’t waste a single second. I’m going to make a real difference in things, and I want you there with me when I do.”
“Of course, Mr. President.” Cheney responded immediately.
“Dick,” Bush smiled half-sadly. “Lenny’s retiring in a few days. He wanted to wait until after the election, but I can tell he’s been uncomfortable ever since… well ever since Milwaukee.” The President’s voice grew solemn, mournful. “He was President Romney’s friend, his closest confidant and advisor, someone he could always count on to tell him what he needed to hear. Lenny’s a good man, but he and I don’t share that kind of relationship, unfortunately. So he’s decided that his tenure here should come to an end, and I’m going to need a new right hand man to help me see my agenda through.” The President placed his hand on Cheney’s shoulder. “Dick, I’m asking you to be my Chief of Staff. Will you do it?”
Cheney was awestruck, but maintained his composure. “Sir, I - I don’t know what to say… Thank you, it would be an absolute honor.” A second of silence passed before he finished his thought. “I hope that I serve you well.”
“I’m sure you will.” The President replied. A moment later, the phone rang. Bush’s personal secretary informed him that Senator Johnson was on the line, he’d called to concede the race and offer his congratulations. Bush, sensing this was a moment he would rather face alone, asked Cheney to step out of his office and took the call with his fellow Texan. The two men talked for nearly half an hour before they were through and when they finished, the President emerged from his office a wiser, better man. They spoke of love, respect, and politics but most of all: of duty, to their conscience, and to the American people. “History has its eyes on you.” Johnson said simply. “Stare the fucker down, and don’t you dare blink.” After finishing their chat, Bush went out to his supporters and delivered a triumphant victory speech, Babs and Governor Reagan, now the Vice President-elect, by his side. It was the biggest, proudest, and most terrified that George Bush had ever felt. He wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.
After conceding the race, Lyndon Baines Johnson felt every one of his sixty four years weighing on him like great, gigantic boulders. The Giant of the Senate had pegged all his remaining hopes for tomorrow on winning the White House and never once considered what he might do if he failed to claim his ultimate prize. Denial came first, he asked Lady Bird what she thought his odds would be if he demanded recounts in the big states. “Not very good, sug.” She replied, with bitter tears in her eyes. Next was anger.
How the fuck did we lose New York?! He raged as the returns came in and NBC declared the Empire State, and the race for the Republicans. He skipped bargaining and tumbled straight into depression, sobbing for nearly an hour before Senator Glenn and Lady Bird were able to calm him down. At last, as he prepared to call the President-elect and concede, came acceptance. He knew that his time on this Earth was not long, and fate, that cruel, ugly bitch, had chosen another preppy New Englander to take his place at the helm of the greatest ship of state in history. Johnson grew contemplative, and wondered what the future of his beloved country might look like when he heard news he’d been hoping for from Georgia and Texas, both of which had stayed true blue to his new machine. Barefoot Sanders and Sam Nunn, one a former Johnson aide and confidant and the other a “New South” Democrat had both been elected U.S. Senators of their respective states. Sanders’ victory especially brought Johnson a sense of personal satisfaction, and Nunn’s win in a special election to fill the seat of LBJ’s old mentor, Richard “Uncle Dicky” Russell, seemed as much a vindication of Johnson as the night’s electoral map. Johnson may never get to be President of the United States, he might have even lost his only nomination handily, but he had changed American politics and the culture of the American South forever. His “new Southern machine” would outlive him, and come to define the national direction for years and decades to follow, as well as make the South a more liberal, progressive place than he had found it. To those who knew him, it seemed only fitting than LBJ would call his fellow Texan, wish him the best of luck, deliver a somber, but poignant concession speech to his supporters who had gathered at his ranch in Stonewall, Texas, then fall asleep next to his beloved Lady Bird, bitter and exhausted. When she awoke next to her husband the next morning, as he was still quietly sobbing in his sleep, the former Second Lady wept herself and told her daughters: “Be kind to Daddy, sweethearts. The American Dream just died for him today.”
Lyndon’s defeat likely signified the high water mark of a storied political career, spanning nearly half a century, but it did not mean that it was over just yet. In fact, Johnson quickly resolved to return to his Senate seat, alongside the newly elected Barefoot Sanders, and push for the Great Society he always wanted to build. Many years after he was gone, Johnson’s legacy as the architect for a more liberal, racially harmonious Southern U.S. and a populist wing of the Democratic Party that would never die down again, would serve him well and leave him fondly remembered by millions of Americans who couldn’t help but wonder: What if LBJ had been given a chance in the White House?
The only other question which remained came in two parts: who would take up Johnson’s mantle to lead his wing of the party against the reelected President Bush when Johnson inevitably passed away or retired? And further, who would stop a vindicated Robert Francis Kennedy from being crowned the Democratic nominee in four years? Several southerners would rise to meet the challenge: George Corey Wallace, Governor of Alabama and an avowed “changed man” on racial issues (though he had sworn never to run for the White House again); Reubin Askew, the popular integrationist Governor of Florida; Senate Majority Whip and son of the “Kingfish”, Russell B. Long; and a little known nuclear sub captain turned peanut-farmer turned Governor of Georgia named Jimmy Carter, whom LBJ now encouraged to run for his state’s Senate seat come the 1974 midterms.
Next Time on Blue Skies in Camelot: The 1972 Down-Ballot
OOC: And there you have it, folks!
Both candidates put up a spirited race, but in the end, President Bush had an insurmountable amount of public sympathy and the national zeitgeist on his side in this one. You haven't seen the last of LBJ, I assure you, though his time is beginning to wind down. It'll be up to a new generation of Southern and Populist Democrats to preserve the legacy he's built, and carry it forward into the future.
