Today, two candidates announced their candidacies for Mayor of New York City this year. Both U.S. Congressman John V. Lindsay (R) and NY City Comptroller Abraham Beame (D) both announced their candidacies to if either wins become the 104th Mayor of New York City.
Lindsay was the first one to announce his candidacy. It must be recognized, however, in any fair account of Lindsay, that while he looks wealthy and acts wealthy, he is not wealthy; and he most definitely does not find himself financially free to do whatever he wishes. Although born in Manhattan, he does not spring from a long line of New York “swells.” At a time when the believers in progress are bemused by the rise to riches of those struggling out from under racial, ethnic, and religious clouds, Lindsay is the product of a phenomenon peculiarly untimely, at least in literature: a white, Protestant, Anglo-Saxon, upwardly-mobile family. His middle name—Vliet—marks him as having Dutch blood somewhere, but he must share this distinction with a vast number of people named “Fleet,” a form to which many Vliets anglicized their name over the centuries. Lindsay derived his Vliet from his mother, who is presumably connected with Vliets who lived in Westchester County before the American Revolution. Lindsay’s first home was not in Westchester, however, but on West End Avenue, and in his youth his parents made a journey so often and so particularly described in New York literature that most readers probably have the impression only Jews made it. The Lindsays moved from West End Avenue to Park Avenue; finally, in the early 1930’s, advancing beyond the end of the familiar literary track, they moved for the first time into the New York Social Register. Lindsay is an alumni of Yale University. Lindsay’s Yale record was excellent, especially when judged by the criteria of the time. He did well in his studies, even if not taking an honors degree (few did) and not making Phi Beta Kappa. He participated in intramural athletics, headed the Berkeley Association, belonged to the Elizabeth Club, which owned a small wooden structure where undergraduates and faculty members who shared an interest in English literature gathered to eat lettuce sandwiches, drink tea, and make what they pretended to think of as intellectual witticisms. Lindsay did not join the Yale Political Union, a debating society to which guest speakers were invited to discuss topics of importance with undergraduate speakers. Lindsay decided that his future lay in private practice. His older brother, George, Jr., had graduated from law school one year earlier and joined the prototypical Wall Street firm: Debevoise, Plimpton, McLean; twin brother, David, would follow him a year later, joining another mammoth Street firm, Davis, Polk, Wardwell, Sunderland, and Kiendl. Within a year after leaving Yale with his LLB, John Lindsay married Mary Harrison, a Vassar girl from Greenwich, the descendant of a Virginia family that traced its ancestry to two Presidents of the United States, William Henry and his grandson, Benjamin, and even, according to some genealogists, to Pocahontas. At about the same time that Lindsay joined the law firm, he also joined the Republican Club for the Ninth Assembly District of New York County, including an area of the East Side of Manhattan which journalists had long ago called the Silk Stocking District; the same vague appellation, suggesting wealth and solid Republicanism, also attached to the 17th Congressional District which in great part overlapped the Ninth Assembly District. There was little to suggest that the decision to join a political club would turn out to be more crucial in Lindsay’s life than his decision to join the Webster law firm. For him, politics attracts him, not because he represented a constituency trying to change American life for its benefit, or to prevent its being changed to its detriment, but because he liked the competition, the feeling that in politics he could sense his movement forward even without compromising his “deep-rooted beliefs.” Lindsay—though his manner makes others forget it—enjoys power and success, without being satisfied with or even interested in the dollar standard of success that would almost automatically have been his if practice of the law—or the corporate affiliations that frequently grow out of it—had continued to occupy most of his time. In 1958, when John F. Kennedy with his dashing good looks, World War Two service record, and eye on the White House won reelection to the U.S. Senate in Massachusetts, Lindsay was elected from the 17th Congressional District better known as the "Silk Socking District" in New York City. One of America’s curious ironies made Lindsay a member of a minority group because he was a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant in New York County. As a Republican in Congress, he fell into the same category once again. His competitive intelligence turned membership in both minorities to personal advantage; he could remain true to his principles without disappointing his constituents through failure to accomplish legislatively what they expected. They expected nothing. He was comfortably reelected in 1960, 1962, and 1964. He had discharged his responsibility fully when he got to his feet, and, sometimes in clear defiance of senior members of the party, took a principled position in support of the Supreme Court, or in opposition to a proposal to codify the right of the states to preempt fields of legislation so as to prevent federal interference. There were, however, occasions on which Lindsay, in company sometimes with other Republican Congressmen, provided the margin by which a bill introduced by the Democratic administration passed the Congress, or was protected against damaging amendments, as was the case with the Civil Rights Bill of 1964. Lindsay is a popular Congressman; he does his job well; he has made the House seem an important place; provided a measure of strength across the aisle for liberal Democrats. And yet, reading his speeches carefully, his strictures against government interference in the lives of the citizens, his cry against government programs which produce “unimaginative housing which the average taxpayer cannot afford,” one could scarcely find anything to offend a majority of his own party. He managed to remain friendly even with Congressmen with some of whose views he strongly disagreed; Francis Walter, the Pennsylvanian who stood for precisely the kind of discriminatory immigration policies abhorred by Lindsay, was a splendid example. Walter was very helpful to Lindsay in the passage of private immigration bills, one of the few demands persistently put on him by members of his district. The one individual he consistently has berated and attacked is Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy. “I have looked in vain for vigorous action on the part of the Department of Justice,” Lindsay has been one of the most vocal critics of the Attorney General. He wrote a very strong letter to the State Department complaining about Robert Kennedy’s and Edward Kennedy’s foreign tours on behalf of the administration: “We question whether it is necessary for you and your office to be either burdened or embarrassed by freewheeling foreign missions on the part of highly placed amateurs who do not have the background, training, language ability or capacity. . . .” Lindsay has a temper and with his aristocratic hauteur, tendency to measure people initially by their manner and background, and quick, prickly response to any suggestion that tactical considerations had compromised his principles, it will be interesting to see if he can rise to the occasion in the rough and tumble word of New York City politics. It's hoped he can build on the momentum of New York State Attorney General Louis J. Lefkowitz's 1961 race, which while unsuccessful, Wagner only won with a 4.0 point margin. Governor Nelson Rockefeller (R) fresh off the 1964 Presidential race as the Vice Presidential nominee is reportedly not keen on Lindsay and encouraging Lefkowitz to run again.
Beame, an accountant and clubhouse Democrat meanwhile is the antithesis of Lindsay. He has climbed the gray ranks of municipal bookkeeping and confounded oddsmakers in most elections. In the pantheon of would-beNew York mayors, Mr. Beame -- a small, meticulous man with a basset hound face and a preference for doing things on the phone -- was a genuine anti-type: If he wins he will be the city's first Jewish mayor, be he lacks the the savvy of incumbent Mayor Paul Screvane; the glamour of John V. Lindsay, the showmanship of newly-elected City Council President Paul O'Dwyer; or the fire of U.S. Congressman Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. who is largely expected to jump into the race as well. He is so short that an aide sometimes slips an attaché case under him when he gets up to speak. He is so colorless that he almost vanished in a debate. He seems to speak out of the side of his mouth -- the voice a high-pitched tootle of old ''Noo Yawk'' -- and his speeches are generally so bland that many people couldn't remember what he said right after he said it. He has an inate passion for details, political and budgetary, and a bookkeeper's penchant for jotting little notes to himself, mostly reminders to call aides and associates. He makes hundreds of calls a day, at all hours. O'Dwyer has infamously called him a vortex disguised as a smudge: energetic on the job, but the kind of man you never notice on the street. He grew up on the Lower East Side, went to City College and worked three decades for the city, mostly toiling over budgets, and has served three nonconsecutive terms as City Comptroller. But Beame believes 1965 will be his year. He believes with his dignity, patience, a resilient self-confidence and that indispensable quality of all real politicians -- a memory that never forgot a favor or an insult, that as the upright burgher with the aura of accountancy is just the right time in a town where much of the electorate was fed up with Tammany Hall and machine politicians like the Wagner and Screvanes. Beame has been very critical of both Wagner and Screvane both, saying, "It is as if they lived in Oz, trying to lure the citizens our city to expect that the city will just build more housing, run social and health programs, give money to artists and cultural institutions, keep City University tuition-free and provide clean safe streets, cheap transit and good schools, hospitals, parks and museums. But as revenues fell, cash has rolled out of the city treasury like there was a hole in the bag. Making matters worse, Mr. Wagner and Screvane, to balance budgets, have resorted to a stupefying array of gimmicks: juggling books to shift state aid from one year to another, using fictitious surpluses, ''deferring'' required payments, arbitrarily raising revenue estimates, borrowing against questionable receipts." Beame, a man of extreme caution, has said as Mayor he will cut the city work force for the first time since the 1930's and the budget by 8.5 percent, calling it ''planned shrinkage.'' He says he will end the use of budget-balancing tricks like financing day-to-day expenses with long-term capital funds. Beame was born in London on March 20, 1906, to Polish-Jewish parents who had fled Warsaw, then part of Czarist Russia. His father, Philip Birnbaum, a Socialist revolutionary who barely escaped arrest, went directly to New York, while his mother, Esther Goldfarb Birnbaum, stopped in London to give birth and joined her husband three months later. In New York, the family name was changed to Beame. The boy, called ''Spunky'' for his scrappiness, grew up in a crowded cold-water flat on the Lower East Side. Childhood friends said he was an outstanding student at Public School 160. At the High School of Commerce, where he graduated at the top of his class, he had perfect scores in the state Regents bookkeeping exams and showed an extraordinary ability to absorb data and memorize facts. At 15, he met Mary Ingerman over checkers at the University Settlement House on Eldridge Street. Seven years later, after he graduated from City College with an accounting degree in 1928, they were married. They have since lived in Brooklyn for the last 45 years, first in a two-family house in Crown Heights, where they raised their sons, then in a modest apartment near Prospect Park. They spend summers at rented cottages in Belle Harbor, on the Rockaways in Queens. In 1930, he and his wife joined the Madison Democratic Club in Crown Heights; for many years she was club treasurer and he a get-out-the-vote precinct captain. In 1943, he was appointed City Comptroller and served until his term ended in 1945. He chose to run for a full term and was reelected in 1945 on a slate with Mayor William O'Dwyer. In 1956, he attempted to run for the U.S. Senate but lost the nomination to Mayor Robert F. Wagner, Jr. He didn't seek reelection as Comptroller in 1957 but in 1961, at the age of 55, Mr. Beame ran for for city comptroller for a third time on a ticket headed by Mr. Wagner, who though opposed by party leaders, was seeking a third term on a ''beat the bosses'' slate. Mr. Beame, who had never stepped out of line, broke with the Democratic organization to join Mr. Wagner, who won. Mr. Beame, whose opponents tended to underestimate him, outpolled Mr. Wagner.
Many anticipate this may be Beame's hardest race yet, for he may vanish in a campaign dominated by his telegenic, erudite opponents. Or maybe his austerity and sense of competence might deliver him the keys to Gracie Mansion.
However, the current occupant, the 103rd individual to live in Gracie Mansion is in no hurry to leave. Paul R. Screvane, who began serving New York City by driving a garbage truck and progressed to one of its loftiest political positions, likes to say he got to where he is at through hard work. Some say Screvane is a "tough guy" but the Mayor likes to say, if that is true, it's because it's tough times. In what remains a matter of sometimes desperate importance to New York car owners, he developed, while serving as sanitation commissioner, the city's system of alternate-side parking, which requires that cars be moved out of the way of street cleaners on one side of the street on specific days. Screvane was born and grew up in his family's home in the Bronx. He was a star halfback on the James Monroe High School football team and won an athletic scholarship to Mississippi State College. But after a year, his mother became seriously ill and he dropped out of college. He took a job as an $18-a-week clerk. His uncle, a former member of the sanitation department, told him that if he did not mind getting his hands dirty, the agency offered a chance for rapid advancement. Promotions were based on merit tests. So, at the age of 22, Mr. Screvane took a job as a $35-a-week truck driver for the agency. Five years later and 10 months before Pearl Harbor, he enlisted in the Army as a private. By the end of World War II, he was a colonel and had won the Silver Star for gallantry and two Bronze Stars for meritorious achievement. He returned to the Sanitation Department and rose quickly and steadily: Mayor Wagner appointed him commissioner in 1953. At 38, he was the department's youngest commissioner and immediately began experimenting with such novel ideas as dog comfort stations and public ashtrays. After Mayor Wagner broke with Carmine DeSapio and the Tammany bosses, he recruited Mr. Screvane to run for City Council President, one of the city's highest positions. He represented a civil service in which advancement was based on merit not patronage said Wagner. But he had other accomplishments. He wrote a law to protect New Yorkers who were arrested on Freedom Rides in the South from any negative treatment by city agencies. During the summer of 1962, he served as acting mayor while Mayor Wagner vacationed abroad. He signed several laws, including a measure barring the importation of strikebreakers. And when Wagner resigned in the summer of 1964 to concentrate on his U.S. Senate bid, Screvane as President of the City Council became the city's acting Mayor, a position he now is running on his own merits to hold for a full term. Screvane says he knows the city is in tough times so it's no surprise in announcing his candidacy early last month officially, Screvane used a boxing analogy to talk about the city he now governs and hopes to continue to govern. "My friends, the condition of the City of New York at this time reminds me of the middleweight champion fight between the late Marcel Cerdan and Tony Zale. Zale was old and doing it from memory and Cerdan was a bustling, sort of classy alley fighter and Cerdan went to the body in the first round and never brought his punches up. At the start of each round, when you looked at Zale’s face, you saw only this proud, fierce man. There were no marks to show what was happening. But Tony Zale was coming apart from the punches that did not leave any marks and at the end of the eleventh round Tony was along the ropes and Cerdan stepped back and Tony crumbled and he was on the floor, looking out into the night air, his face unmarked, his body dead, his career gone. In New York today, the face of the city, Manhattan, is proud and glittering. But Manhattan is not the city. New York really is a sprawl of neighborhoods, which pile into one another. And it is down in the neighborhoods, down in the schools that are in the neighborhoods, where this city is cut and slashed and bleeding from someplace deep inside. The South Bronx is gone. East New York and Brownsville are gone. Jamaica is up for grabs. The largest public education system in the world may be gone already. The air we breathe is so bad that on a warm day the city is a big Donora. In Manhattan, the lights seem brighter and the theatre crowds swirl through the streets and the girls swing in and out of office buildings in packs and it is all splendor and nobody sees the body punches that are going to make the city sag to its knees one day so very soon. The last thing, then, that New York can afford at this time is a politician thinking in normal politicians’ terms. The city is beyond that. The City of New York either gets an imagination, or the city dies."
Finally on the sidelines for now sit three other personalities who look ready to jump into the Mayoral fray, two Democrats (either of which may run as a Liberal Party candidate as well) and an independent who has seeking to make one of the newest and serious third party in decades named, appropriately, the Conservative Party. The Conservative Party of New York State was founded in 1962 by a group including J. Daniel Mahoney
, Kieran O'Doherty, Charles Edison, and the Buckley brothers, James L. and William F, out of frustration with the perceived liberalism of the Republican Party of New York. A key consideration was New York's fusion voting, unusual among US states, which allows individual candidates to receive votes from more than one party. The Liberal Party founded in 1944, had earlier benefitted from this system.
Paul O'Dwyer (D) is the brother of former Mayor William O'Dwyer (D). He became President of the City Council when Paul Screvane became Mayor, much to the new Mayor's chagrin. O'Dwyer and Screvane have clashed on the council for some time now, so a candidacy by O'Dwyer for Mayor would remove him at least from the Council. O'Dwyer was born in Ireland, emigrating to New York City in 1925. He became a United States citizen in 1930. He was a staunchly vehement opponent of American involvement in World War Two and traveled the United States to speak with and rally pro-neutrality (particularly Irish-American) groups. As a lawyer some of his more renowned cases were those involving people accused of Communist ties by the McCarthy hearings, referring often about Senator Joseph McCarthy (R) of Wisconsin and his hearings during this time with the phrase in Gaelic of "tha e cho breugach 's a tha an cat cho bradach, meaning he is as much a liar as the cat is a thief!" Lately, O'Dwyer has taken to calling his potential Mayoral opponents Gaelic slurs saying Mayor Screvane is a "pliobair" (a worthless flunkey)", Lindsay is a "reimheach" (proud & petulant), Beame is "claonaire" (one who is dull and uninspiring), Powell is "sabhdair" (Foolish braggard), and Buckley is "draingeis" (which is someone who is snarling, petulant, and constantly carping.) It's unknown if O'Dwyer can put together the same sort of coalition his brother did to win the Mayor's office. In fact, a fleet, unapologetic gadfly, Paul is the antithesis of his older brother William, who rose from the police force to become an urbane master of machine politics as Mayor of New York from 1946 until 1950, when scandals shook his administration. The O'Dwyers moved separately on the crest of Irish-American political power before it faded in the city. But his outspokenness for minority causes helped deny him a mainstream role in politics. As president of the New York chapter of the National Lawyers Guild, Mr. O'Dwyer was denounced as a radical for angrily challenging Red-baiting assaults on civil liberties by politicians who were intent on searching for Communist leanings among teachers and other government workers. O'Dwyer was among the first volunteers litigating in Deep South integration struggles. ''It was like a present on Christmas morning,'' he enthused about his participation. He was also gladly troublesome as a delegate to the 1964 Democratic National Convention, leading the fight to see the black Freedom Democratic party of Mississippi represented. Personally close to a generation of black politicians, Mr. O'Dwyer managed the campaigns of several. Anti-Semitism in college fraternities had bonded him to Jewish friends. It followed naturally that he was involved in the cause of a Jewish homeland in 1946 by arranging for the illegal entry of Holocaust survivors to Palestine and by aiding the gun-running operations of the Irgun militants fighting the British in the Holy Land. The next year, as chairman of the Lawyers' Committee for Justice in Palestine, he pleaded at the United Nations for Israeli sovereignty. Successfully defending an admitted Jewish gun-runner in New York in 1948, Mr. O'Dwyer told the court, ''He was only doing what every other freedom-loving person would be doing.'' That may be how he forms his coalition.
One opponent standing in his way for black support will be Harlem's own favorite son, pastor of Abbyssinia Baptist Church, confidant of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as well as the thunderous voice of civil rights in the U.S. House of Representative, U.S. Congressman Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. (D). Adam Clayton Powell Jr. was born on November 29, 1908, in New Haven, Connecticut, to Mattie Fletcher Schaffer and Adam Clayton Powell Sr. The family, which included daughter Blanche, moved to New York City when the senior Powell took on a clergy position at Abyssinian Baptist Church, a historical African-American institution that would eventually move to Harlem. The junior Powell went on to attend City College before transferring to Colgate University in Hamilton, New York, where he graduated in 1930. Two years later (1932), he earned a master's degree in religious education from Columbia University, and then furthered his divinity studies at Shaw University. In 1937, he won a seat to the New York City Council, becoming the first African American elected to the position. A few years later, Powell made a successful run for Congress; he took a Democratic seat in the House of Representatives in 1941, becoming the first African American hailing from New York to be elected to the House. The outspoken, electrifying leader and orator and has served there ever since. In 1964 he was running for U.S. Senate but suddenly withdrew from the race and endorsed Wagner. Some think he made a deal. Powell served on a number of committees and continued to agitate for African-American human rights, calling for an end to lynching in the South and Jim Crow laws. He angered Southern segregationists, including those within his own party, by integrating congressional restaurants, recreational facilities and press stations; critiquing anti-Semitism; and advocating for independence for African and Asian nations. In 1956, Powell went against party lines to support Republican Dwight D. Eisenhower's presidential campaign, though he later critiqued Eisenhower for his conservatism on civil rights issues. In 1961, Powell became chair of the House Committee on Education and Labor. The special group was able to create an unprecedented array of legislative reforms, including a minimum-wage increase, educational resources for the deaf, funding for student loans, library aid, work-hour regulations and job training. He's not without his contraversy. He was indicted for tax evasion in 1958 (the subsequent trial ended in a hung jury), was accused of defraying traveling costs as a public expense and in he was sued by Esther James after making a 1960 slanderous televised statement about her in relation to municipal corruption. The turmoil seemed to have little effect on Powell's loyal Harlem constituency, however, and he continued to win re-election to his House seat. He settled that case out of court in 1963 for an undisclosed amount. But Powell is not afraid of stirring things up. In the 1940s and 1950s, he was, indeed, virtually alone.... And precisely because of that, he was exceptionally crucial. In many instances during those earlier times, if he did not speak out, the issue would not have been raised. ...For example, only he could (or would dare to) challenge Congressman Bill Rankin (D) of Mississippi on the House floor in the 1940s for using the word "nigger." He certainly did not change Rankin's mind or behavior, but he gave solace to millions who longed for a little retaliatory defiance. Powell now is seeing how he can angle himself into Gracie Mansion.
Finally, William F. Buckley, Jr. is the epitome of privilege. Born into a wealthy upper East Side family, the sixth of ten children, Buckley moved as a boy with his family to Mexico then he studied in Paris, France. By age seven, he received his first formal training in English at a day school in London; his first and second languages were Spanish and French. As a boy, Buckley developed a love for music, sailing, horses, hunting, and skiing. All of these interests would be reflected in his later writings. Just before World War II, at age 12–13, he attended the Catholic preparatory school, Saint John's Beaumont in the United Kingdom. Buckley was homeschooled through the 8th grade using the Calvert School of Baltimore's Homeschool Curriculum and was an honor guard for the funeral of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. In 1946 he enrolled at Yale University, joined one of the school's secret societies, became head of Yale's Conservative Party of Yale's Political Union. Buckley studied political science, history, and economics at Yale, graduating with honors in 1950. He was a member of the debate team while there, where he developed and honed his acerbic wit. When he first met author Ayn Rand, according to Buckley, she greeted him with the following: "You are much too intelligent to believe in God." Buckley who is a fervent Roman Catholic replied, "You are much too ignorant then not to accept the existence of God." In broaching the idea of his candidacy for Mayor, Buckley who was a visible and public supporter of the Goldwater Presidential campaign stated if he runs it would be to continue the momentum to the conservative cause in the wake of Goldwater's defeat. Already he has some interesting concepts. One is to relieve traffic congestion, Buckley proposed charging drivers a fee to enter the central city everytime. He also is extremely critical of Mayor Screvane's Civillian Review Board for the New York City Police, recently introduced to control police corruption and install community policing. It's one of the few measures Screvane has proposed to the Council that O'Dwyer has supported. Buckley is also the author of what some call the "Buckley Rule" Buckley first used his assertion during the 1964 Republican primary election that featured Barry Goldwater and Nelson Rockefeller. Debate within the Republican Party led Buckley to state his support for "the rightwardmost viable candidate." Ronald Reagan in California revised it in saying and proclaiming support for "the rightwardmost electable candidate" or simply the most electable candidate.
There is one other "potential" candidate whom U.S. Congressman Hugh L. Carey and New York City Councilman Daniel Patrick Moynihan are all talking up as a viable candidate who could unite all the factions together. The candidate that they are quietly touting and yet trying to build support for is Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy. Kennedy already passed on a 1964 U.S. Senate race to which Harriman says is all the more reason why he should be considered for the keys to Gracie Mansion. So far there's no word from the White House or even from the Justice Department on what the Attorney General may or may not do. One thing is for sure. The 1965 New York City Mayor's race promises to be the hottest political race to watch and ramifications for the direction of New York City on who wins.