Part 2: “But the Roots Remain”
Madison, WI
November 12th, 1946
Tom Coleman was a deeply unhappy man; much more unhappy than he had every right to be. The Republican party had swept the Democrats in the midterm elections; not just in the state, but nation-wide. For the first time since in recent memory the Republicans controlled the state’s entire Congressional Delegation. They dominated the state government in a way that they hadn’t since, at the latest, 1930. But none of that seemed to matter, because a certain poison had found its way back into the veins of his beloved party, and it sickened him.
A successful industrialist, Coleman had become active in the Republican Party in the 1920’s and had helped engineer the defeat of Phil LaFollette in 1932, the defeat which had finally driven the Progressives from the party, his party, and left it firmly in the hands of the stalwarts. Since then, he and his allies, had funded Republican candidates and, using their influence, had turned the party back into what it once had been; not the party of Hoover, although he had been a decent man, but the party of Schofield, of McKinley, of Lincoln. His enemies called him a “Boss”, an attack his Coleman found hilarious; the LaFollettes were the true bosses, and always had been. They attacked bossism, and then had created a machine that put the old party bosses to shame. That had always been the hypocrisy of the Progressives; they slandered their enemies, tarred and feathered them, and then adopted even worse practices.
“And now, they’re back”, he muttered to himself ruefully.
Coleman couldn’t help but partially blame himself for the disaster. Hadn’t it been he who had trusted that old bastard Walter Goodland, when the Governor claimed he would sign the “Fence-Me-In” Bill which would have disallowed LaFollette and his ilk from running as Republicans in the election?
And then Goodland had turned around and vetoed it anyway, hoping to add the Progressives to his already ample base of support. Coleman tried to get the best of him again, and denied him the party’s endorsement at the Republican convention a few months later. But it had done no good; Goodland had been swept back into the nomination, and then office, after beating Delbert Kenney, the party’s own nominee. [FN1]
And LaFollette was back. The only good thing to be said about that debacle is that “Young Bob” had a lot less ambition than either his brother had, or that of his damnable father. The newly returned Senator would be less likely to meddle in the affairs of the state, and would likely just keep his head stuck in the affairs of Washington.
Coleman couldn’t say the same thing about the new breed that his election had drug into the state legislature. Take Krueger for instance; that kid had run as a Progressive back in 1942, been beat, and had come back four years later. He beat his opponent in the primary and then, when the Republicans had convinced the vanquished Senator to run as an independent candidate in the general election, Krueger had beat him again. Good god, they had elected a damned Circus Fat Man to office! Not for the first time, Coleman decided that he just couldn’t understand the voters of Wisconsin.
But, maybe it wasn’t an entire loss. After all, the Faithful Republicans, he refused to use that hated term “stalwart” which the progressives had so longer slandered the conservatives with, still held a majority, and he suspected they could rely on the moderates to keep the Progressives in line. And McCarthy, the Irishman, had done much better than suspect; Coleman had a feeling that that boy might still have a bright future ahead of him.
Sighing, he took a sip of fine Scotch from his glass. He had a horrid feeling, it was going to be a bumpy few years.
From Turmoil to Strength: Wisconsin Progressivism from 1946-1972
Robert Nesbit
[Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1982]
After the drama of the primary election, the general election of 1946 turned out to be anti-climatic. Across the board, the Republicans won seat after seat, driving the Democrats out of the state’s Congressional delegation, and winning every state wide election. Although the Democrats put up a strong fight, they found their total voting percentage down from two years previously. Part of this was not their own fault; 1946 was nationally a Republican year, as voters turned against the highly unpopular President Truman. However, in Wisconsin, this was not entirely the case; with the successful move of a core group of Progressives into the Republican party, the Democrats found a number of their growing voters coalition fleeing to the Republican Party. Many progressive voters were particularly offended by the strong Democratic attacks against Senator LaFollette during the Republican Primary, and blamed the Senators close election to those “dirty tricks.” When it was over, Walter Goodland won nearly 60 percent of the votes, and LaFollette nearly matched these results, with 59 percent of the votes cast. [FN2]
A Progressive core had returned to the Republican Party. It was small, and needed nurturing; the collapse of the Progressive Party had badly wounded the once vaunted organization of the faction, and Bob Jr., did not have the skills nor the temperament to rebuild it. The success or failure of the progressives would rest squarely on the shoulders of the elderly Governor Goodland, the vigorous lt. Governor Immell, and those young Progressives who had recently been elected to state office.
January 13, 1947
Madison, WI
Senate Floor
Clifford “Tiny” Krueger
Clifford “Tiny” Krueger looked around the chambers of the Wisconsin Senate and tried to suppress his nerves. There was a part of him that had always known that he would be walking through the halls of the state capitol. He still remembered the crushing feeling of loss when he had lost his first election to the Senate four years previously. And here he was, four years later, at the age of 28, an elected state senator from Wisconsin.
He looked for his desk and found it easily; it stood out. Just a few months earlier, following the November results, he had been sent an article by supporters, clipped from the New York Times. The article’s headline had read: “Circus Fat Man Elected to Wisconsin Senate: Special Chair Ordered”. [FN3]
A mixed expression crossed his face as he thought of the article. It was true, of course, Clifford, or Tiny to his friends, hadn’t won his nickname by being a small man. At his current age, he weighed nearly 450 pounds and stood well over six feet tall. And it was true that he had been in the Circus; both professionally, and back in High School when he and his friends would put on a circus to raise funds for local Progressive candidates. Tiny loved the circus, and would his entire life. And yet … and yet, he was serious to be here. He saw himself as a follower of the Progressive traditions of the state, and was bound and determined to fight for them. Anyone who took him lightly was going to be in for quite a surprise; Tiny might be jovial, but he had no problem in playing rough if need be. No trouble at all. He could compromise if need be, but he refused to sacrifice his ideals to the Communist-infested Democrats, or the reactionary Stalwarts.
Finding his seat, he spied another younger man smiling, positively beaming, as he made the rounds, and recognized him as Gaylord Nelson. He stood up to meet his fellow Freshman Senator.
Gaylord “Happy” Nelson
Gaylord Nelson smiled as he greeted the other Senators in the chamber; not yet 29 years old, Nelson felt privileged just to be present in what he still considered to be hallowed chambers. He had vowed on the campaign trail to fight alongside the Progressives of old, and wasn’t going to step down now. But, despite that, he was never one to forget the fact that his opponents, be they Democrats of Stalwarts, were human beings as well. If he hadn’t lost that fact while fighting in the Pacific during the war, he certainly wasn’t going to forget it now.
Nelson had been born in the town of Clear Lake in 1916, a small rural town in Wisconsin’s Mississippi Valley. His father had been the town doctor; a position which had brought the family a great deal of prestige, if not financial security. A man who valued community and morality above all else, the elder Nelson often refused to accept payment from his poorer patients, or accepted barter, such as eggs or farm goods, over cash.
One of Nelson’s earliest political memories was seeing Bob LaFollette Jr., come through town campaigning. He had been smitten with the thought of serving his state in government, but also despaired to his Father, that with men such as the LaFollettes, there would be no more battles to fight by the time he grew up.
And yet, here he was, and such righteous battles seemed to evident now. First, there was the environment. Nelson, even at 29, was an ardent conservationist, and determined to preserve as much of nature as he could. Even more than that, however, he wanted to preserve Clear Lake and the communities like it. He was a small town boy at heart, and nothing was ever going to change that fact. Finally, he understood that he would have to work with other Progressives to rebuild themselves within the Republican Party. Other liberals had moved into the Democratic Party and were busy trying to reform that destitute organization, and Nelson held nothing against them, but he was a Republican, just as every good Progressive in the state was, and he was going to do his best to make the Republicans the party of Progress, just as they once had been.
“Forward,” he muttered to himself, his state’s motto, and then smiled again. Life felt good.
Charles Madsen
Charles Madsen shook his head is bemusement as he stared at the younger Progressives in the chambers. Madsen had served two prior terms as a Progressive, representing Polk County in Northwestern Wisconsin, and had moved back into the Republican Party only with great reservations. Although the Republicans were largely in the hands of Conservatives, he was an opponent of the Democrats for historical as well as philosophical reasons. The Dems, in addition to being controlled by labor, having recently outed the reactionaries, had little organization to count on. He fully understood the battle that was before him and the other in his party, or rather, bloc. The Conservatives of the party had suffered a defeat, but it hadn’t been a grievous one. If the Progressives of Wisconsin were going to find a true home within the Republican Party, then they were going to have to fight and fight hard.
He looked around to find any old friends in the chamber, and smiled as he spied Fred RIsser of Madison, and a few other old hands. He silently marveled that there seemed more new faces than old, and wondered about the passing his generation, although he certainly wasn’t that old. But he did see potential in a lot of the new comers; maybe they were up for the fight after all. Even more so, however, he actively wondered if Goodland and Ralf Immell would be able to fashion their voting bloc into an organization on par with the old LaFollette one.
He knew Goodland after all, and had voted with the Governor on occasion; although he professed to be a moderate, the Governor was sympathetic to the goals of the Progressives and could be counted on to support them, within reason. Immell was slightly unknown; a general in the war, he had served largely in administrating in occupied areas. Madsen hoped that his organizational skills in the army would translate to the political sphere as well.
In any case, a new chapter had been written, and he felt blessed to have seen it. What ever happened now, things would certainly be interesting.
“GOVERNOR WALTER S. GOODLAND DEAD AT THE AGE OF 84: LT. GOVERNOR IMMELL SWORN INTO OFFICE: “Tough Old Codger” suffers heart attack while preparing message to State Legislature” – Wisconsin State Journal, March 19, 1947 [FN4]
[FN1] Coleman, despite his great organizational skill, had a tendency of backing losing candidates. In 1942 he had attempted to deny the party nomination to Governor Julius Heil, who he regarded as a buffoon. Although he was unsuccessful, the voters of Wisconsin seemed to agree with him; they voted Heil out in favor of Orland Loomis. It was only Loomis’ death a few months later which prevent a Progressive governor from returning to office.
[FN2] These results were a bit difficult to come by. In OTL McCarthy crushed McMurray in the general election. Despite the Democrats’ hopes that progressives would flock to their side in the general election, they actually did substantially worse than two years previously. Part of this has been blamed on a backlash, on the part of Progressives, for the Democrats part in the defeat of Bob LaFollette Jr.
In the ATL, LaFollette wins. However, I suspect that most of the Progressives who voted for McCarthy, of all people, would be unlikely to turn to McMurray in the case of a LaFollette victory. I decided to have him run slightly behind the governor, simply because LaFollette was not as accomplished of an campaigner, and the animosity that labor still felt against him for moving into the Republican Party.
[FN3] The wording is somewhat different, but this isn’t two different from the byline that ran in OTL.
[FN4] Goodland died right around the same time in OTL; I decided to shift the day a bit to show this is an ATL.
