On December 4, 1950, Richard Nixon, having defeated Helen Gahagan Douglas, was sworn in as senator from California. (This was of course earlier than the other newly elected senators, who would have to wait until January. Nixon received this boost in seniority thanks to conservative Democratic Senator Sheridan Downey, who by retiring early allowed Governor Earl Warren to appoint Nixon to fill the remainder of Downey's term.) Three days after Nixon took office, he got good news: the US Court of Appeals in New York had affirmed the conviction of Alger Hiss. And a few days after that, Senator Nixon attended a Christmas party in the ballroom of the Sulgrave Club in Washington. Greg Mitchell in his book on the 1950 California Senate race, *Tricky Dick and the Pink Lady*, explains what happened there (p. 250):
"Among the guests were two men with a burning hatred for each other: Joe McCarthy and Drew Pearson. After months of wrangling, McCarthy had privately threatened to 'kill' or at least 'maim' the columnist for gathering information on an alleged homosexual on his staff. By chance or morbid design, the antagonists happened to be seated at the same table, and before long they were heckling each other. McCarthy abruptly reached across, cuffed the smaller, older Pearson by the back of the neck, and demanded that he step outside and 'settle this.' Congressman Charles Bennett, attempting to mediate, got pushed to the floor. Pearson, a professed pacifist, walked away, but McCarthy set off after him.
"He overtook the columnist in the cloakroom. When Pearson reached into his jacket for his claim check, McCarthy feared (he later claimed) that he was reaching for a weapon, and so he grabbed the writer's arms and kneed him twice in the groin. Doubling over in pain, Pearson asked, 'When are they going to put you in the booby hatch?' This inspired the senator to smack him a few times, knocking him to the floor.
"At this moment, Senator Nixon arrived on the scene. 'This one's for you, Dick!' McCarthy said, about to hit Pearson again. But Nixon shouted, 'Let a Quaker stop this fight,' and then, 'Let's go, Joe.' As Pearson staggered away, Nixon walked McCarthy outside, found his car, and got him to drive home. McCarthy promptly called reporters to brag that he had kicked Drew Pearson 'in the nuts.' Pearson responded by asserting McCarthy's punching ability equaled his 'senatorial behavior.' Twenty senators reportedly called McCarthy's office to congratulate him, but Richard Nixon refused to comment, except to decry 'such foolishness' with a war going on. *Privately, he claimed that McCarthy might have killed the columnist if he hadn't intervened.* A few days later, on the floor of the Senate, McCarthy vilified Drew Pearson as a 'Moscow-directed character assassin' and the 'sugar-coated voice of Russia.'" [Emphasis added.]
So suppose Nixon hadn't been there, that McCarthy had kept hitting Pearson, and that his blows had indeed killed the columnist. What would be the political effect? It is certain that many politicians of both parties would feel little sorrow about Drew Pearson's demise, but it would be hard for most of them to publicly justify what would look like manslaughter if not murder. (Even if one accepts McCarthy's account about fearing that Pearson was reaching for a weapon, it is hard to see how that would justify the subsequent blows in this ATL, especially after Pearson had been knocked to the floor.) Would the Senate expel McCarthy? (That requires a two-thirds vote, and there could be a considerable number of pro-McCarthy senators who would say "Let's wait until the courts decide whether what he did was justified or not.") If McCarthy were indicted for manslaughter, can we be sure that a jury would convict? (Remember that without Nixon around and with Pearson dead--assuming he died before he could tell police what happened--McCarthy would be the only surviving witness to what had happened in the cloakroom.) Regardless of what happens legally, is this the end for McCarthy politically? In the 1850's, members of Congress could get away with violent behavior--sometimes, as with Brooks' caning of Sumner, actually become more popular with their constituents--but this is the 1950's. And there is after all some sentiment in the press that even fellow journalists they dislike should not be killed...