CHAPTER 26
MacArthur’s strongest bastion of support had always come from the Midwest, and Wisconsin in particular. The general’s attachment to what would become his home state was more due to his father than his own experience – he had been born in Arkansas, and the Army had been his ‘home’ since the turn of the century. Wisconsin had called him its own in 1948, and when a Milwaukee donor offered him a home in the city, the Badger State became the headquarters of the MacArthur campaign once more.
After spending two and a half weeks touring the western half of the country, receiving huge crowds at every stop he made, MacArthur arrived in Milwaukee on September 27th, where he was greeted by Phil LaFollette and Robert Wood, two men who had served under him (Wood in World War I, LaFollette in World War II) and who were both well-known Republicans that had spearheaded his campaign in 1948. LaFollette, who had attempted to form a Progressive Party in the 1930s, often disagreed with the firm conservative Wood on policy matters. The one exception to this was foreign policy: like most in the Midwest and indeed much of the Republican Party, both men favoured a more isolationist tone be taken.
MacArthur’s first meeting with his Wisconsin team, predictably, centred around foreign policy. It was one field where MacArthur could legitimately claim to have experience, having been the de facto governor of both the Philippines and then Japan, and his desire to change America’s position on the world stage provided most of his motivation to run for office in the first place. While Truman had concentrated on Europe, MacArthur proposed to give priority to Asia. He had attacked Truman’s handling of Asian affairs several times as he paraded through the western states, reminding the public that Truman had ‘lost’ China, and how he had taken months to secure a peace in Korea after the Yalu River was reached. Then he offered his allies his first policy point: if elected, he would meet with Chiang. The Chinese leader was popular in America, and a formal defensive alliance would secure America’s position and contain communism across the entire Pacific Rim.
Satisfied that he had made his views clear, MacArthur retired for his afternoon nap, leaving the matter for his subordinates to turn into a platform however they saw fit. Subordinates they were too: just as he had in wartime, MacArthur would announce his orders to his staff, and unless he took a particular interest in the matter, they would be free to carry them out however they saw fit. They would then report back not to MacArthur himself, but to his chief of staff, and then said chief of staff would decide what information was important enough to pass back to the top, often with MacArthur being unaware or uninterested in the minor details. In the Pacific, he had Sutherland. In Tokyo, he had Almond (at least until Patton decided Almond wasn’t worth listening to). On the campaign trail, he would soon have Frederick Ayer. LaFollette and Wood reported to him.
***
October 11, 1951
“I’m sorry, Mr President, but I don’t see any way out of this.”
Harry Truman had expected the words long before they came out of his Secretary of the Treasury’s mouth, indeed they were a big part of why he had made it a priority to meet with him today, but hearing John Snyder say them was about as welcome as being kicked by a mule all the same.
“This recession is expected to be short and mild, but unless you have another Korean War to get people in work, we’re going to face a downturn.” Snyder continued. “If the Feds didn’t insist on tightening monetary policy right now, we might have been able to ride this out, but cutting spending and hiking rates at the same time makes our job nearly impossible.”
“The price we pay for an independent Fed.” Truman said glumly. Just seven months ago, he had called all the top people at the Federal Reserve to the White House to sort out their differences, chief among them their unwillingness to keep supporting the government’s spending, and the result had been separating the Treasury from the Fed. Almost immediately, the Fed had decided that inflation was getting out of control, something that had concerned Truman for a while, and so they raised interest rates. Snyder had explained it as being like ‘lightly pressing the brake on the economy’, which until now had been roaring.
Then the Korean War ended. Fifty billion dollars of government money had been going to the military, and the 1951 deficit was much larger than Truman had been comfortable with. As soon as there was no war, he moved quickly to slash the military’s budget in half. It wasn’t quite the full-fledged ‘economisation’ of 1946-49, which some critics had lambasted him for, saying it had left the US weak and exposed, and even going so far as to blame for the Korean War itself (though had it really been that bad of a policy? Korea had been a striking success even with a greatly reduced spend on the Army), but it did give him a chance of delivering a balanced budget next year.
“What can I do then to reduce the impact of this recession?” Truman asked.
“A few things. Tax cuts will give people more money to spend. An infrastructure build will create jobs. If the Fed cuts rates back to their previous level, that would help too.” Snyder said.
“We can’t do anything about the Fed, it has been less than a year since we signed that Accord.” Truman said. “And both of the others will result in a larger deficit.”
“That’s correct.” Snyder said. “Unless you let the recession run its course, it is likely we will face a deficit in this year’s budget.”
“Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.” Truman said. Being president meant you got blamed whenever something went wrong: the Republicans were already starting to blame him for the recession, and they’d blamed him for all the recent deficits as well. The only problem was, this president didn’t seem to get any of the credit when things went well: nobody thanked him for winning the Korean War. They thanked MacArthur.
“Leave the taxes as they are.” Truman decided. “Alert me – immediately – if things show any sign of getting worse, but we can ride it out for now.”
***
While Harry Truman continued to wrestle with his Treasury Department and the Federal Reserve, MacArthur’s great tour across the country continued to attract huge numbers of spectators, including the largest ticker-tape parade in history in New York. The last stop was Boston, where after giving a speech to an audience of thousands, he would finally meet in person the man who would aim to put him in the White House.
Frederick Ayer Jr’s first meeting with Douglas MacArthur very quickly convinced him that MacArthur would be his own greatest obstacle. MacArthur had a lot of support – he had the Hearst papers, he had Henry Luce, he had the LaFollettes. Harry Truman’s popularity was at a record low, so 1952 would be a likely victory for whoever ended up with the Republican nomination. MacArthur was arguably the most popular person in the country, and had recently come home from two victorious wars – although Winston Churchill, recently re-elected as Prime Minister, had proved in 1945 that that did not mean as much as people thought it did. Regardless, MacArthur should have had the presidency in the bag.
Instead, MacArthur greeted Ayer the same way he greeted almost everyone he met, with a monologue. “A very fine monologue to be sure, and one that incorporated all the best parts of the English language, but he did not seem to realise that presidents are not elected purely on oratory.” Ayer would later say. “I was impressed with what he did say, and I believed he would be a better president than Robert Taft or the Democrats, but there was a lot he did not say, and it became my job to make sure he said the right things and didn’t leave anything important out.”
Ayer had written to his uncle several times asking what to expect from MacArthur, and Patton’s replies had amounted to ‘he thinks he knows everything’. MacArthur never asked questions – that would imply there was something he did not know. He spoke, you listened, and then his policies, combined with the fact that he was Douglas MacArthur, would get him into the White House. Within half an hour of meeting the general, Ayer could see that Patton, if anything, had understated it.
MacArthur’s policies, indeed the only things he had spoken at length on across his national tour, were that taxes needed to be cut and that he had turned Japan into a “shining light of democracy” and could apply his experience to the United States. The former could come from any Republican candidate, and likely most Democrats too, so Ayer didn’t worry about it too much. The latter put MacArthur as arguably the most qualified person to ever run the country other than a former president, by virtue of having actually run a country before, but it wasn’t the sort of thing that was going to convince a farmer in Kansas or a coal miner in West Virginia to vote for him.
After it became apparent that an afternoon meeting in Boston would not be enough to get MacArthur’s campaign moving beyond tax cuts and Japan, and thanks to another letter from Patton telling him that MacArthur never used the telephone, Ayer decided the best way to move forward would be to fly to Milwaukee, sit down and talk with the general and some of his key supporters, and find out what parts of his policies could actually be put on a campaign poster without turning the electorate against him (as even at this early stage, some of his ideas turned to the downright bizarre). All the while convincing the general that everything was his own idea.
In Milwaukee, Ayer questioned MacArthur on every aspect of government policy that he could think of (“General, how should the government handle labour unions?” or “General, what do you think about the Tennessee Valley Authority?”), and realised that for a lot of aspects of policy, what MacArthur said, what he thought he believed, and what he actually believed were three different things. “Take the New Deal” Ayer would say in a 1977 interview, “MacArthur said that FDR’s policies amounted to an impossible fantasy, then when I questioned him on New Deal policies, such as Social Security or Crop Insurance for farmers, he said he thought just about all of them were a good idea. Then, five minutes later, he would brag to me about how successful policies very similar to them had been in Japan.”
Ayer would say that his greatest challenge in the whole campaign was to convince MacArthur to admit to things that he already believed in, but at the same time making it seem like it was the general’s idea. He knew that if MacArthur openly attacked the popular New Deal, it would spell doom for the campaign, and even though MacArthur agreed with most of it, he was likely to do just that. On the New Deal issue specifically, Ayer decided to preempt MacArthur’s bad habits, and had Pat Echols quote the general speaking favourably on New Deal policies in the papers. If the press established him as a New Deal supporter, maybe they wouldn’t question him so heavily on it later down the line.
Ayer soon boiled MacArthur’s policies down to a few key points. On the domestic front, MacArthur was an economic conservative: he wanted to balance the budget, bring taxes down and generally believed in a lassiez-faire approach to the economy. He was much more liberal when it came to social policy: he supported civil rights (though that touchy subject would have to be kept quiet if they intended to contest the South), and tended to favour a strong labour movement, which would help him capture the votes of the Northeast. His preference was for Congress, not the President, to drive legislation, up to and including declarations of war (the latter point being a blatant criticism of Harry Truman’s actions in June 1950), and he supported the rights of states to handle their own affairs. Abroad, a Cold War version of Theodore Roosevelt’s ‘speak softly and carry a big stick’ rounded everything out nicely.
Presented well, there was something in the platform to appeal to both liberals and conservatives, hawks and doves, and everyone in between (almost… Ayer and the rest of the campaign would have to decide if it was worth making an effort in the reliably Democratic South and its hundred or so electoral votes). But beyond the millions-strong crowds, Ayer knew that MacArthur was also a controversial figure with a long lifetime of enemies. The best platform in the world wouldn’t mean anything if they weren’t handled correctly.
The following day, November 6th, MacArthur’s first real challenger for the Presidency threw his hat in the ring.
- BNC