Eisenhower in War and Peace

by Jean Edward Smith

  Brownell’s strategy was to stay even with Taft on the first ballot, keep a few votes in reserve, and then switch those votes to Eisenhower on the second ballot. Hopefully California and Minnesota would follow suit. But when the clerk called New York and Governor Dewey announced that the Empire State was casting 92 votes for Eisenhower and only 4 for Taft, everything changed. Brownell and Clay had assumed that Taft would get 18 votes in New York. Dewey had twisted arms and threatened excommunication to any New York delegate who voted for Taft, and succeeded in delivering an almost unanimous delegation for Ike. “If you think Taft has a steamroller,” Dewey told the waverers, “wait until you see my steamroller operate.”57

  The 14 extra votes from New York caused Brownell and Clay to recalculate. Victory appeared in sight. Brownell called Sherman Adams on the floor and told him not to hold anything back. “We were going for broke on the first ballot,” said Clay.58 When the roll of the states was complete, Eisenhower had 595 votes to Taft’s 500. Earl Warren had 81, Stassen 20, and MacArthur 10. On the floor, Warren Burger was frantically waving the Minnesota standard for attention. Speaker Joe Martin, the convention’s presiding officer, who had not yet announced the result, recognized Senator Edward Thye, the chairman of the delegation. Over Stassen’s objections, Thye switched all of Minnesota’s 28 votes to Eisenhower. Ike was over the top.

  “That was an awfully close call, wasn’t it?” said Eisenhower—who, at least according to Brownell, was totally flabbergasted by the whole process. “He’d never seen anything like it. He didn’t know how Clay and I knew what was going to happen.”h

  As soon as Speaker Martin announced the result, Eisenhower decided to call on Senator Taft as a matter of courtesy. Taft was ensconced with his entourage in the Hilton, just across the street from the Blackstone. Ike’s decision was unprecedented, and he phoned Taft to ask his permission. The senator was taken by surprise but immediately agreed. “Senator Taft could not have been more gracious,” Clay remembered. “Around the Taft camp there was an air of tremendous disappointment, even some bitterness. But not between Taft and Eisenhower.”59

  With Clay and Brownell in tow, Eisenhower fought his way through a crush of reporters and spectators to Taft’s ninth-floor suite in the Hilton. “I’m quite sure that it took ten minutes to get across the street,” Eisenhower recalled. There was no police escort because the visit was decided at the last minute, and in 1952 presidential candidates did not have Secret Service protection.

  When Eisenhower arrived, Taft asked if his sons could be present, and then spoke gently to Ike, who appeared highly agitated in the excitement of victory. After a minute or so of small talk, Taft ushered Eisenhower outside to face the newsmen. “You’ll get used to it,” he confided.

  There was another mob scene in the corridor, but Taft waved his arms and shouted for attention. “I want to congratulate General Eisenhower. I shall do everything possible in the campaign to secure his election and to help in his administration.” Taft had failed for the fourth time in his quest for the Republican nomination but seemed totally in control of the situation. Newsmen noted that it was Eisenhower who looked drawn and haggard, his eyes moist with emotion, while Taft seemed poised and dry-eyed. Arthur Krock, writing in The New York Times, called it Taft’s “finest hour.”60

  That evening over a celebratory dinner in Ike’s suite, Brownell and Clay reminded Eisenhower that the convention would select the vice presidential nominee the next day. Had Eisenhower considered whom he wanted as a running mate? asked Brownell.

  “Well, I thought that was up to the convention,” said Eisenhower. “I didn’t realize that that was for me to decide.”

  Clay and Brownell exchanged glances but concealed their surprise. After digesting Ike’s comment, Brownell responded with perfect pitch: “Yes, sir, General, that is true insofar as the balloting is concerned. But I am sure that the delegates will look to you exclusively for guidance.”61 According to Brownell, Eisenhower thought about it and appeared satisfied.

  “So I said that if he would give us his choice, I would convey it to the key leaders of the party. We would see that the selection was done smoothly at the Convention.

  “So General Eisenhower went over a list of people. He mentioned the people he had confidence in, mostly business people—the president of General Electric [Charles Wilson], the president of American Airlines [C. R. Smith]—that sort of thing. People who General Eisenhower believed had great executive ability.”

  For old political pros such as Clay and Brownell, it seemed like a visit with Alice in Wonderland. Finally Brownell interrupted. “General, these are all fine men, and I am sure they would make excellent vice presidents, but we really need a name that would be recognizable to the average delegate on the floor—someone they can relate to.”

  Eisenhower nodded and Brownell continued, suggesting the principles they should consider.

  In view of his [Eisenhower’s] age, we wanted a young man. We hopefully wanted someone from the West, someone with political experience to balance the ticket. I went over the necessary qualifications for a vice president. I said that General Clay, and Governor Dewey and I had talked it over and that, unless he expressed a preference otherwise, we would recommend Senator Nixon of California to him.

  General Eisenhower thought it over for a moment, said he had met Senator Nixon, and that he would be guided by our advice. He told us to clear Nixon’s name with the other leaders of the party. And that was it.62

  Eisenhower and Senator Richard Nixon after Nixon’s selection as Ike’s running mate, Chicago, July 11, 1952. (illustration credit 18.3)

  The choice of Richard Nixon was not a spur-of-the-moment decision. Although Eisenhower was unaware of it, Senator Nixon had played a critical role in the convention strategy that Brownell and Clay devised. California had seventy delegates, all of whom were committed to Earl Warren on the first ballot. No one knew what Governor Warren intended (the relations between Warren and Dewey were strained), and Taft had powerful backers in the California delegation, including Senator William F. Knowland, the state’s senior senator. Nixon became Eisenhower’s “fifth column” in California, assigned to undermine Warren and lead a second-ballot shift to Ike.

  The initial overture to Nixon had been made by Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr., weeks before. “We had some very practical thoughts about Nixon,” Lodge recalled. “We needed a counter to Taft in California, and Nixon was it. I approached him on the Senate floor, well before the Convention, and asked him if he would be interested in the vice presidency. ‘Who wouldn’t?’ he said. Not very elegant, but that’s what he said.”63

  Lodge reported the encounter to Clay, and at Clay’s suggestion Dewey invited Nixon to be the principal speaker at the annual GOP fund-raising dinner in New York on May 8, 1952. Nixon gave a boffo performance and stressed that the GOP must nominate a candidate who would appeal to Democrats and independents. Dewey invited him up to his suite for a nightcap. Clay and Brownell were there as well. When Dewey suggested the vice presidency on an Eisenhower ticket, Nixon said he would be honored to accept. “Make me a promise,” Dewey replied. “Don’t get fat, don’t lose your zeal, and you can be president some day.”64

  “There is no question that Nixon was the man we wanted,” said Clay. “He had a fine name among most Republicans as a result of the disclosures in the Alger Hiss–Whittaker Chambers case. He was young, vigorous, and appealing. I was very much for him”65

  On June 12, 1952, Nixon was nominated by acclamation. Ike and Mamie headed west for a precampaign vacation, and Eisenhower resigned his commission as General of the Army. Forty-one years and one month after taking the oath as a cadet at West Point, Eisenhower severed his connection with the United States Army.

  * * *

  a Clay’s reference to “some other things” pertains to Ike’s fears of the viciousness of a presidential campaign. Rumors of his romance with Kay Summersby had already surfaced, and he was aware that his 1945 letter to Marshall might somehow b
e leaked to the press. He was also concerned that rumors of Mamie’s alleged drinking problem might become an issue.

  b I once asked General Clay if it wasn’t unusual for an Army officer to head a major American investment bank. “Well,” he replied, “I don’t know of anyone else on Wall Street who ever conducted a major currency reform. Or for that matter who established a government”—a reference to the introduction of the deutsche mark in 1948 and the formation of the Federal Republic of Germany in 1949. Jean Edward Smith, Lucius D. Clay 13.

  c Beginning with his letter of September 29, 1951, Clay’s letters to Eisenhower, as well as Ike’s replies, would be hand-carried by TWA pilots on the Paris–New York route. Subsequent cable messages from Clay to Eisenhower would be addressed to Colonel Robert Schulz, Ike’s aide, and signed “Shelley,” for Edna Shelley, Clay’s secretary at Continental Can. Similarly, Ike’s cables to Clay would be addressed to Shelley and signed “Schulz.” Smith, Lucius D. Clay 589.

  d Only thirteen states held presidential primaries in 1952. The others chose their delegates in party conventions.

  e Fred I. Greenstein, The Hidden-Hand Presidency: Eisenhower as Leader (New York: Basis Books, 1982).

  f The Berlin airlift, for example, was undertaken by Clay on his own authority. “I never asked permission or approval to begin the airlift,” said Clay. “I asked permission to go in on the ground [which was refused], because if we were stopped we’d have to start shooting. I did not ask permission for the airlift.” Smith, Lucius D. Clay 502–3.

  g General Clay did not think Eisenhower’s attack was as serious as Brownell suggested. “I’d known General Eisenhower for a long time,” said Clay, “and he had some very bad eating habits. Maybe it was a forerunner of the ileitis attack, but I doubt it. Obviously, his nerves were at a very high tension. I think it was just a stomach cramp. That’s par for that type and kind of situation.” Jean Edward Smith, Lucius D. Clay 598.

  h In contrast to Eisenhower, Clay and Brownell were worried sick when the balloting concluded. “We got down to Wisconsin on the roll call and we were still not over the top, and we had thrown in all our reserve strength,” said Clay. “Then Minnesota switched and everything was fine.” Jean Edward Smith, Lucius D. Clay 599.

  NINETEEN

  The Great Crusade

  I know something of the solemn responsibility of leading a crusade. I accept your summons. I will lead this crusade.

  —DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER,

  July 11, 1952

  Moral complacency was the hallmark of the Eisenhower years. It reflected the nation’s self-satisfaction in the 1950s, it was good politics, and it fit with Ike’s starchy sense of propriety. Kay Summersby had no place in that world, and the burnishers of Eisenhower’s image have worked overtime to eradicate her from the record. Eisenhower became the exemplar of civic and family virtue. He was fresh, strong, decent, and generous—a model American to whom the country was eager to entrust its future. “The American people took him for what they wanted Americans to be,” said Lucius Clay. “I don’t think they really cared much about what he stood for.”1

  On July 15, 1952, Ike and Mamie flew from Chicago to Denver, where Eisenhower set up headquarters once more in the Brown Palace Hotel. Two days later, he went off for an extended holiday at the Fraser, Colorado, ranch of the Douds’ old friend Aksel Nielsen, longtime president of the Title Guaranty Company of Denver. Before leaving, Eisenhower replied to a handwritten letter from George Marshall congratulating him for his victory in Chicago. Marshall said he had followed the campaign closely but had refrained from writing earlier. “I felt because of the vigorous attacks on me by various Republicans any communication with you might be … detrimental to your cause.”2 a Eisenhower thanked Marshall for his support and ignored his reference to the Republican attacks. “I am firm in my belief,” said Ike, “that our government cannot stand the excesses that come about through one party domination for too long a time.”3

  Aksel Nielsen’s 1,900-acre cattle ranch, on the western slope of the Continental Divide, sixty miles northwest of Denver, was one of Ike’s favorite vacation spots. Amid a daily routine of fly-fishing, painting, and outdoor cooking, Eisenhower played host to the Gang and a swarm of visitors, including Richard Nixon—whose lack of aptitude for fly-fishing was painfully recorded by photographers.

  While Ike vacationed in Fraser, the Democrats were meeting in Chicago, and on the third ballot nominated Illinois governor Adlai E. Stevenson for president. An eloquent speaker from a patrician background, Stevenson could claim the support of the bare-knuckle Cook County organization of Jake Arvey, while his polished, literate, and often humorous manner had proven unusually successful in appealing to liberal Republican and independent voters. In 1948, Stevenson had been elected governor by a plurality of 572,067 votes—over half a million more than President Truman, who carried Illinois that year by only 33,000. Eisenhower listened to Stevenson’s acceptance speech over the radio at Nielsen’s ranch. “Don’t worry,” said Gang member George Allen. “He’s too accomplished an orator. He will be easy to beat.”4

  Eisenhower appeared supremely confident. In late July he arranged with Gang member Cliff Roberts for a postelection holiday at the Augusta National. “Tentatively—very tentatively—I make a suggestion that may be completely fantastic. It is that you consider the possibility that, if the Republicans are successful, you might open the club four or five days earlier than is normally done.”5 Roberts told Ike any time after November 1 would be fine, and then suggested that he consider joining a church. The argument, said Roberts, “is that the church belt (meaning the Evangelistic Protestants in the South) will never support a candidate who does not belong to a church.”6

  Eisenhower was not convinced. Mamie had been baptized a Presbyterian, he told Roberts, but “my brothers and I have always been a little bit ‘non-conformist.’ ” Ike said he and his brothers were all seriously religious—“We could not help being so considering our upbringing”—but the only reason he could see for joining a church would be “the ease it provides in answering questions. It is much easier to say ‘I am a Presbyterian’ than to say ‘I am a Christian but I do not belong to any denomination.’ Aside from that I have always sort of treasured my independence.”7 b

  Eisenhower returned to Denver on July 28, 1952, and spent most of August assembling his staff and planning the campaign. Dewey, Clay, and Brownell had important jobs that kept them in New York (Brownell was senior partner in the prestigious law firm Lord, Day, and Lord), and Henry Cabot Lodge had his hands full with his own senatorial campaign in Massachusetts against John F. Kennedy. Given the bitterness of Taft’s supporters, it also would have been bad politics for any of the four to have been too visible during the campaign.

  With his first team unavailable for frontline duty, Ike turned to Sherman Adams, who had done yeoman service at the convention as floor manager of the Eisenhower forces. Governor Adams would become Ike’s chief of staff and travel with him throughout the campaign. Arthur Summerfield of Michigan, the new chairman of the Republican National Committee, was named campaign manager, but the real authority rested with Adams. Boston banker Robert Cutler became his deputy. Tom Stephens, who was Dewey’s appointments secretary, and James Hagerty, Dewey’s press secretary, took the same roles with Ike. Emmet J. Hughes, a senior editor at Life, was soon added as Eisenhower’s principal speechwriter.

  As he had done at the time of OVERLORD, Eisenhower assumed control of the broad outlines of the campaign but left the details to others. A presidential campaign is in some respects not unlike a military campaign, and the Republican chain of command was clear from the outset. Eisenhower was in charge. He not only set the tone, but made the major decisions. Dewey had been criticized after the 1948 election for waging a complacent campaign. Eisenhower was determined not to repeat that mistake. First, he elected to go all out, crisscrossing the country giving short, impromptu talks to local audiences from dawn to dusk. Whenever possible, motorcades would be l
aid on to allow Ike to be seen by as many people as possible. Ultimately, Eisenhower would travel more than fifty thousand miles by rail and air, visit 232 towns and cities, and speak in every state other than Mississippi.

  Second, with the exception of Mississippi, Eisenhower chose to carry the Republican campaign to the Solid South. Stevenson would win the cotton states in November, but Ike picked up Tennessee, Texas, Virginia, and Florida, and made it respectable to vote Republican south of the Potomac River. Eisenhower did not crack the Solid South, but he laid the groundwork for a Republican renaissance.

  Most important, as with D-Day, Eisenhower determined the timing of the campaign. The politicians wanted to start early, but Ike held back. “I alone had to be the judge of my reserve of physical energy,” he said. “I believed I could go at full speed for eight or nine weeks, assuming an average of seven hours sleep daily, with an occasional twenty-four hours reserved for complete rest and catching up.” Accordingly, Ike set September 2 for the campaign kickoff. “Right after Labor Day, I’ll really start swinging,” he told his staff.8 An additional dividend was that Ike’s strenuous eight-week campaign preempted any questions about his age (sixty-two). Anyone who could maintain his schedule was obviously fit enough to be president.

  In early August, Eisenhower held his first postconvention press conference in Denver. Murray Kempton of The New Yorker, who had covered Ike at Columbia, was on hand and alerted James Hagerty that he intended to ask Eisenhower about Republican criticism of General Marshall.c Eisenhower was forewarned, the stage was set, and Kempton followed through.

  “General,” Kempton asked, “what do you think of those people who call General Marshall a living lie?”