11. Bullishness
The Roosevelt/Forrestal ticket won the 1944 presidential election with nearly four hundred electoral votes and a fifty two percent share of the popular vote. On the surface it was everything that a resounding victory should have been, a thirty one state sweep with a three million ballot difference in the popular vote.
Yet, it had come very close to being a nail-biter. The states of New York, Pennsylvania, Minnesota and California had all gone Democrat by less than two percent. Had they swung the other way, giving Dewey all of their one hundred eighteen electoral votes, then the Republicans would have won the election outright.
It was a startling revelation of vulnerability, even as the Democratic party got ready to settle in for a fourth consecutive term.
Congressional elections were rosier, with the Democratic party losing only a single seat in the Senate (that of the isolationist Guy Gillette from Iowa) and gaining a further twenty one seats in the House. This success was largely due to sympathy for Roosevelt and a desire amongst the American public to avenge the atrocities in Paris by electing legislators belonging to a party that was broadly trusted to prosecute war efforts.
Behind the scenes, as the election slowly faded into the background, came the inevitable questions surrounding just what was going to happen with Roosevelt and Forrestal. The President was still not showing any signs of cognitive improvement (and, as Eleanor had noted, was in fact deteriorating) and Wallace seemed to be growing restless and agitated, constrained by his role as Acting President (and of course the Sword of Damocles that Forrestal was dangling over his head).
Wallace mulled over what he could possibly do that wouldn’t provoke Forrestal destroying his political career and eventually came to the unwelcome conclusion that the Vice President-Elect had him cornered.
The only thing that gave him the slightest bit of vindictive pleasure was that Forrestal in turn was being savaged by the southern Democrats. There was talk that certain electors from the deep south were willing to throw their support behind a segregationist splinter candidate in protest of Forrestal’s anti-segregation views. The south wasn’t electorally significant enough to deny Roosevelt and Forrestal a victory (nor did they want to, the prospect of a President Dewey wasn’t much more palatable to the Dixiecrats than that of a President Forrestal) but the loss of the deep south would sting.
Forrestal wasn’t terribly concerned about this. His mind was far to the east, where worrying developments were brewing.
_______
It was at a cabinet meeting that the news was first brought up by SecState Stettinius.
“Chiang Kai-Shek has rejected our proposal to place Lieutenant General Stilwell in command of Chinese forces…” Wallace didn’t look too bothered by the news, but Forrestal, Stimson, Morgenthau and others all shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
“What’s his proposal?” Wallace asked. The Generalissimo usually sent a counter-proposal back each time he disagreed with an American plan.
“That Stilwell is dismissed as Chief of Staff and replaced with General Chennault.” Stimson bristled, Wallace held up a hand to cut off any further talk.
“What do you gentlemen think?” He asked, “I…really have no formal education on the Chinese matter.” That wasn’t expressly true, Wallace did have his sympathies for the communist guerrillas in the countryside, but that was hardly surprising.
“In my opinion sir,” Stettinius began, “it would be greatly beneficial if Stilwell were kept on as the Generalissimo’s Chief of Staff. Chennault is a capable soldier, but also an airman. He’s overestimated the ability of airpower to battle infantry, the results of which we can see in the offensive the Japanese launched this summer.” The offensive that the SecState was referring to, Ichi-go, had resulted in several of Chennault’s air bases being overrun by Japanese troops. Forrestal nodded.
“I agree with Ed. And more than that, we ought to figure out how we can get Kai-Shek to agree to our proposal. If we can get the army of the Kuomintang under American tactical control then I do believe that we’d have a better shot at pushing the Japanese off of the mainland.” There were some nods at this. As it was the Kuomintang was somewhat scattered and still reeling from the Ichi-go offensive of the summer and fall.
“That being said,” Forrestal continued, “it would be irresponsible to force Stilwell upon the Chinese. The last thing we need is to engender ill will amongst our allies.”
“Stilwell is a bastard,” Stimson said with a small grimace, “that’s perhaps his biggest drawback.” Morgenthau glanced around at his fellow cabinet officers.
“He’s certainly done a wonderful job at alienating the British in Burma…” Forrestal nodded patiently at the words of his fellow officers.
“We’d need to give Kai-shek something. And promise to keep Stilwell in check.” Wallace gave Forrestal a wary look.
“Give him something…?” He asked. Forrestal nodded.
“Something very important. A seat at the table perhaps.” A brief wave of confusion passed around the table, then Wallace’s eyes narrowed.
“No.” He said, “Chiang Kai-Shek is not going to be part of the delegation deciding the fate of the world next year.” His tone was sharp, almost panicked. Like he didn’t know if he would be able to maintain the veracity of his words. Forrestal regarded the Acting President evenly.
“He’s the Generalissimo of China, one of the largest nations in the world. He’s been instrumental to the war effort in Asia thus far and an invitation to next year’s conference would be an invaluable bargaining chip.” Wallace looked aggrieved, the cabinet sat back, visibly uncomfortable.
“Next year’s conference is about the end of the war in Europe,” Wallace protested, “China has nothing to do with our European theater of operations.” Forrestal didn’t back down.
“It needn’t be so narrowly focused,” he said, “a conference encompassing the end of the war in general would be much grander than a simple regional agreement, don’t you think?” Wallace simmered.
“It’s not happening.” He growled, and turned the topic sharply to the possibility of mandatory national service for young Americans. Forrestal watched the Acting President carefully.
This wasn’t over.
_______
In order to comprehensively defeat and destroy Wallace’s ability to make unwelcome changes to American foreign policy, Forrestal knew that he had to consistently keep the Acting President on the defensive. Which made actions like the one he was about to carry out absolutely necessary.
“Sir,” he said, taking a seat before Wallace’s desk, the Acting President remaining standing, “we need to talk.” Wallace glowered at him.
“You’ve won the election,” he said sourly, “and cost me my chance to change the world for the better. What else do you want?” Forrestal crossed his legs, resting his hands on one knee.
“I want Kai-Shek to be present at next year’s conference. I want General Stilwell to be the de facto commander of Kuomintang forces in China. And I still want our boys to be marching into Germany by the end of the year.” Wallace stared.
“You’re overstepping your bounds James…”
“Hardly,” Forrestal countered, “I’m effectively the President-Elect…you’ve seen the condition that Franklin is in…I am claiming the authority that I won, nothing more.” Wallace seemed to be gritting his teeth.
“Nothing more?” He asked incredulously, “you’re demanding radical changes in our foreign policy. Changes that I, as the President of the United States, am firmly against.”
“Acting President,” Forrestal corrected, tone darkening, “Acting. You are not the President and you never will be. Now, please take out the letter that General Marshall wrote you concerning Stilwell and his positioning within the Kuomintang military.” Wallace didn’t move for a moment, but then slowly obeyed.
“This is insane…you really think that this is going to work? That Kai-Shek would let you manhandle him like this?” Wallace asked, gripping the letter tightly, wrinkling the paper. Forrestal nodded.
“If it’s his foreign aid on the line, then yes, I do. Especially if I were to add a carrot to that deal by offering him a seat with Churchill, Stalin and I next year.” Wallace dropped the letter.
“I refuse,” he said, folding his arms, “you cannot do this to me James. I refuse to cater to your whims for even a moment longer.” Forrestal stood, still calm faced.
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll have those papers I showed you sent over to the Chicago Tribune. I’m sure they’ll get a kick out of them.” He was halfway to the door of the Acting President’s office when Wallace broke.
“Wait!” Wallace cried. Forrestal glanced back.
“Are you ready to work with me Henry?” He asked. Wallace hesitated, then reluctantly nodded his head.
An hour or so later Forrestal had sent Marshall’s revised missive off to Chiang Kai-Shek…with Wallace’s signature at the bottom.