Roosevelt the Byzantine: A History of Conventions, 1944
In this convention series I’ve purposefully tried to stay modern. The definition for the modern convention has to do with the encroachment of the primary system. Various states held primaries throughout the first two hundred years of our democracy but the system took hold in 1968. The tug-of-war between Hubert Humphrey and Eugene McCarthy, with some delegates remaining loyal to the deceased Bobby Kennedy, turned the tide from convention system to primary system.
That tug-of-war is a story for another day. In today’s column I’m breaking my own rules. I’m going back to an earlier time before the primary system governed. With both Senators McCain and Obama certain to appoint their running mates any day now (I've published this column early, on Wednesday, August 20, apparently hours before Obama makes his choice known), I thought it would be useful to look back on how the greatest president of the 20th century chose his running mate, who would become the second greatest president of the 20th century.
In today’s column, I’m going back to 1944.
President Franklin Delano Roosevelt was a man who couldn’t say no to anyone and that led, in the words of the great Roosevelt historian, James McGregor Burns, to “a Byzantine course” in selecting the man who would be his third and final running mate.
As the savage success of June and D-Day turned into July and the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, Roosevelt encouraged a number of candidates to politic for the vice president position. The President encouraged the candidacy of the sitting Vice President, Henry Wallace. The Vice President was an ardent New Dealer and his support emanated from the essential Roosevelt coalition. Northern urban liberals, blacks, organized labor. Wallace however brought with him the baggage of the liberal idealist. In the conservative South, his candidacy was viewed as a liability. The Bronx’s Ed Flynn, arguably the most powerful political boss in the country, cautioned Roosevelt that renominating Wallace might mean a loss of two to three million votes.
Simultaneously, the President encouraged the candidacy of James Byrnes. Byrnes, a former Senator from South Carolina, a former Supreme Court Justice and the Coordinator of War Mobilization, was known as the “Assistant President.” His résumé overshadowed Vice President Wallace and marked him as the front-runner. Of that status, Byrnes remarked, “Now, partner, let’s not get too excited on this vice president business. I know that man [FDR] more than anybody else.”
Byrnes himself didn’t know how true his words were. While publicly encouraging Byrnes, Roosevelt received a report from political boss Ed Flynn. Byrnes satisfied the conservative southern requirement. Byrnes however came with racial undertones. In 1938, he led the fight against proposed federal anti-lynching legislation (championed by Eleanor Roosevelt). On the senate floor he’d said, “The Negro has not only come into the Democratic Party, but the Negro has come into control of the Democratic Party.”
Ed Flynn cautioned Roosevelt that nominating Byrnes might mean a loss of “200,000 Negro voters in New York alone.” Perhaps even more injurious to the candidacy of James Byrnes, labor found him unacceptable.
Simultaneously the President encouraged the candidacy of House Speaker Sam Rayburn of Texas, the candidacy of Illinois Senator Scott Lucas, the candidacy of Senate Majority Leader Alben Barkley of Kentucky, the candidacy of Paul McNutt, the High Commissioner to the Philippines.
All of these men wanted the job. The reason was readable on the face of Roosevelt. “He was a dying man,” according to the great Roosevelt biographer, Frank Freidel. “In March of 1944 the President consulted with a cardiologist. After a thorough investigation, the cardiologist reported that given proper care Roosevelt might live another year.”
That didn’t stop Roosevelt from encouraging all candidates. He claimed Vice President Wallace was indispensable because of his knowledge of international affairs. Simultaneously, he told Byrnes, you are “the best qualified man in the whole outfit” and “you must not get out of the race. If you stay in, you are sure to win.”
Simultaneously, he encouraged the candidacy of Supreme Court Justice William Douglas. Douglas however believed that campaigning for a political seat was beneath the stature of a sitting justice. In addition, his backers were aiming at a presidential run in 1948. Secretly, Douglas wanted to be drafted at the 1944 Convention.
All of this commotion came to a head when Vice President Wallace confronted Roosevelt. On July 12, while out campaigning for Roosevelt, he called the President. “I am looking ahead with pleasure to the result of next week and the Convention,” Wallace said.
Roosevelt replied, “While I cannot put it just that way in public, I hope it will be the same old team.”
Roosevelt received another phone call. James Byrnes heard a rumor that Roosevelt favored Justice William Douglas. To Byrnes, Roosevelt responded, “That is all wrong. Will you go on and run? After all, Jimmy, you are close to me personally…”
A few days before the Convention, Roosevelt endorsed Douglas. Simultaneously, a Gallup poll asked Democratic voters for their choice. Sixty-five percent favored Vice President Wallace. Seventeen percent favored Senator Barkley. Three percent favored Byrnes. Two percent favored Justice Douglas.
Of all the candidates up for vice president, only one man had taken his name out of the running. His name was Harry Truman. “The Vice President,” Truman said, “simply presides over the senate and sits around hoping for a funeral. It is a very high office which consists entirely of honor and I don’t have any ambition to hold an office like that.”
Told of Truman’s ambivalence, James Byrnes phoned the Senator and asked if Truman would give his nominating speech. Truman immediately accepted. Not more than five minutes later, Alben Barkley phoned the Senator and asked if Truman would give his nominating speech. Truman declined.
Then came the note. Roosevelt wrote to Bob Hannegan, an ardent Truman supporter and the chairman of the Democratic Party, “Dear Bob, You have written me about Harry Truman and Bill Douglas. I should, of course, be very glad to run with either of them and believe that either one of them would bring real strength to the ticket.”
As the Democratic Convention began on July 19, the note was leaked to the press. So was a story, perhaps apocryphal. Historian James McGregor Burns wrote, “In the original note, according to the rumors, Roosevelt had mentioned Douglas’s name before Truman’s and only after some fervent convincing by Hannegan had the names been switched.”
To view the note, located at the Roosevelt Library in Hyde Park, is to see a rather clean piece of paper. No cross outs and additions. No eraser marks.
Truman seemed to be the model candidate. He came from a border state and he enjoyed good relations with Southern Democratic Senators. He was the favorite of Party bosses. In the past, he’d supported many of Roosevelt’s New Deal measures. He was attractive to labor. And for a physically enervated president like Roosevelt, Truman’s reputation as an energetic campaigner carried great weight. Perhaps best of all in Roosevelt’s mind, Truman was the least bothersome. Roosevelt wasn’t looking for the best man to succeed him; he wanted the least amount of trouble.
While the delegates on the first night of the Convention overwhelmingly nominated Franklin Roosevelt for president, the real politics occurred in a hotel room. Harry Truman sat on one bed. Bob Hannegan, speaking by phone to Roosevelt in Hyde Park, sat on the other. “Whenever Roosevelt used the telephone,” Truman later said, “he always talked in such a strong voice that it was necessary for the listener to hold the receiver away from his ear to avoid being deafened, so I found it possible to hear both ends of the conversation.”
“Have you got that fellow lined up?” Roosevelt roared.
“No,” Hannegan replied. “He is the contrariest goddamn mule from Missouri I ever dealt with.”
“Tell the Senator,” Roosevelt said, “that if he wants to break up the Democratic Party by staying out, he can. But he knows as well as I what that might mean at this dangerous time in the world.” Roosevelt then hung up the phone.
Privately to Hannegan, Truman exclaimed, “Jesus Christ! But why the hell didn’t he tell me in the first place.”
Good question. Roosevelt’s tactics put a lid on the ability of any one person to rise. In that way, nobody could oppose him. His tactics, biographer Frank Freidel wrote, “incited charges that he had been a treacherous, aged tyrant lopping off the heads of those who might dare challenge him.”
In the end, though, Roosevelt made the right choice. Roosevelt died nine months after the Democratic Convention of 1944, and thirteen months after a cardiologist predicted he would live another year. Truman went on to a presidency that redefined America, both internally and abroad.
Of course, Truman’s presidency ended in talk of impeachment and the lowest approval rating in the history of presidents, thanks to Korea and the firing of General MacArthur, and a president forced to abandon his reelection campaign after losing to a fellow Democrat in the New Hampshire primary. But that’s a story for another day. |
