Richard Russell had never
truly gotten along with the Kennedys, but when news of his assassination hit
D.C., he went directly to the Marble Room, just off the Senate Chamber. A few minutes later, Roger Mudd found him
there, reading the news aloud to a stunned group of Senators and staff, tears
streaming down his cheeks. Mudd was profoundly moved: “Considering how stately
and self-collected (Russell) was, he just really came apart that afternoon.”
In his office later that
day, Russell’s thoughts turned to his protégé, the new President. “Lyndon
Johnson has all the talents, abilities and equipment to make a very good
president of this country.” The first year of Johnson’s administration more
than demonstrated that he had that capability.
In the early days of his
administration Johnson was modest and deferential. He constantly reached out
for help and guidance. He asked Kennedy’s staff and cabinet to stay on board.
And from the beginning Johnson made it clear that he would finish what Kennedy
had started. On the night he became President, he told Jack Valenti that he
intended to make sure the Civil Right Bill that Kennedy had proposed would
become law.
Civil rights activists
were stunned by Johnson’s acceptance of their cause. Under Kennedy, they had
more or less been supplicants. Johnson turned him into lieutenants. He knew the
battle ahead would be hard but he had every determination to get it done. And one
of the men he turned to was his old friend Hubert Humphrey.
The speech that Johnson
gave before a joint session of Congress right before Thanksgiving had been
drafted by Kennedy men Ted Sorenson and John Galbraith. But the night before he
gave it, he handed their draft to Humphrey and Abe Fortas.
It was one of the most memorable
speeches given before Congress and not merely do the circumstances. Johnson
made it very clear that he was going to use the legacy of John Kennedy to enact
a civil rights bill. Many Southerners, including Russell, refused to applaud
that part of the speech. But while many of them had doubted Kennedy’s ability
to get the bill through Congress, they had far less doubts about Johnson. The
reason that they were not alarmed was because that speech had come from one of
them.
Russell was disappointed
but not surprised by his old friend’s decision. He was not nearly as happy when
Johnson drafted him to serve on what would be known as the Warren Commission.
During most of 1964, Russell was badly overloaded by the Commission assignment,
the coming fight over civil rights and his failing health.
Johnson was initially
frustrated by the House to move on the bill, which was stranded in the Rules Committee
by Judge Smith, an eighty year old Virginian and a fierce opponent of civil
rights. He had been refusing to let the bill even come to debate since July of
1963 and was only forced to by public opinion. At the time, Johnson’s approval
rating was at nearly 80 percent. “You’ll have to run us over,” he told the bill’s
supporters when he called for hearings. He would add: “We know we’ll be run
over.” And facts to bipartisan support, including that of the Republican Judiciary
chairman William McCulloch, the bill got through the house with a whopping
290-130 margin. It emerged even stronger than it had been when Kennedy had
submitted.
The Senate of 1964 was divided
into three groups: pro-Civil rights Republicans and Democrats, moderate
Republicans and Russell’s Dixiecrats. Two prominent far-right Republicans
joined them, one of whom was Barry Goldwater, the leading candidate among Conservatives
in the Republican party for the nomination that year. By themselves the pro-civil
rights bloc had 51 votes. But in order to invoke cloture and break the
filibuster, they would need 16 more.
Johnson decided to gamble on
an audacious strategy. The man who had been willing to compromise to get a Civil
Rights bill passed seven years earlier was not even entertaining one.
Interestingly despite the fact the two men were determined not to yield in
their respective positions, they remained close friends talking several times a
day. Perhaps it was because Russell knew that the time had comes, and if it had
to come better at the hands of a friend. “Now you tell Lyndon I’ve been
expecting this for a while,” he told Bill Moyers, “but I’d rather it be his
hand than anybody else’s I know. Tell him to cry a little when he uses it.
For decades finding cloture
on civil rights had been a hopeless task. Working with Kennedy’s justice
department and putting extra pressure on Mike Mansfield about how to handle the
filibuster. While Mansfield remained firm on not having endless session during
that time, he had no interest in assuming the day-to-day duties.
That role was left to
Hubert Humphrey. Humbled and somewhat overwhelmed at the possibility of
realizing the ambition he had hoped for since entering the Senate sixteen years
earlier, he knew that this would be a test to finally realize his ambitions of
the White House by getting on the ticket with Johnson that fall. Getting the
bill passed would serve both his ambitions and he listened to Johnson when he
knew the way through was with the minority leader, Everett Dirksen.
Dirksen was a fairly conservative
Senator from Illinois when the conservative bloc of the Republican party had primarily
been in the Midwest. One of Robert Taft closest allies, he might have cost
himself the nomination for Vice-President in 1952 when he made a volcanic nominating
speech for Taft and castigating Eisenhower on live TV. But Dirksen was more of
a fiscal conservative than a social one, and he had a very good relationship
with Johnson when the two had been in the Senate together. Humphrey publicly heaped
praise on Dirksen in a Meet the Press interview in March, and Johnson praised
him and advocated him to do everything he could to win Dirksen over. “You drink
with Dirksen! You talk to Dirksen! You listen to Dirksen!” Johnson knew very
well that the liberals in the party would not want to listen to Republicans.
Everyone in his white House knew the leadership in the Republican Party was
essential.
Before 1964 every civil
rights filibuster was a one-way affair, with Southern troops led by Russell
engaging lengthy monologues and colloquies while proponents of legislation
watched from the sidelines. Humphrey intended to alter the equation. Working
with minority whip Thomas Kuchel of California, he devised a system in which
proponents of the bill would aggressively challenge, refute, question and debate
the Southerners on every major point. He organized a series of four member
groups of Senator to remain always in the Senate Chamber. He appointed a captain
to each division of what would be known as the Civil Rights’ Corporal Guards.
Every morning he would meet to coordinate the day’s activities. And as a result,
members of the media became inspired in a way that previous civil rights debate
had not.
He addressed the problems
of quorum calls by every day having two platoons of roughly twenty-five
Democrats present to make sure that the South would not be able to use their
time-honored tactic of delay by making endless quorum calls. And he enlisted the active participation of
the nation’s religious leaders. On April 19th a prayer vigil at the
Lincoln Memorial began and it continued twenty-four hours a day until the
Senate passed the bill.
Russell and his Southern
forces knew that they were overmatched. History was on their side, but not much
else. Russell was sixty-six, suffering from emphysema, and overburdened, but he
never grumbled even knowing this was essentially the South’s last stand. With
compromise impossible, his only chance was if he could keep the fight going
long enough to force compromise with his old student. The problem was, by this
point he was running out of soldiers: besides himself, there were only eighteen
southerners and Republican John Tower of Texas to stand with him. And other
members of his bloc such as Russell Long of Louisiana and William Fulbright of
Arkansas did not want to fight as hard as the old guard that including Russell,
Mississippi Senators John Stennis and Strom Thurmond, who would not be part of
the Democratic Party much longer.
The southern rhetoric took
tones of desperation. Senator Eastland told Humphrey that the bill ‘takes us
back to Stalin, Khrushchev, Hitler and a dictatorship.” Humphrey countered: “What
is closer to Stalin and Hitler is discrimination on the basis of race.” There
were constant arguments that the bill was closer to communism and socialism and
the idea of equality. But eventually the bill became the Senate pending
business.”
Humphrey was blunt talking
to reporters: “This is no longer a battle of the heart for the Southerners.
They simply have to die in the trenches. They’re old and they haven’t any
recruits…We have to beat them to a pulp.”
On March 30, Humphrey
stood at his desk in the Senate and introduced the civil rights bill, speaking
for over three and a half hours:
“We are participants in one
of the most crucial eras in the long and proud history of the United States
and, yes, in mankind’s struggle for justice and freedom which has gone forward
since the dawn of history. If freedom becomes a full reality in America, we can
dare to believe it will become a reality everywhere. If freedom fails here in
America, the land of the free – what hope can we have for it surviving elsewhere?”
Humphrey directed his
passionate speech to everyone in the Senate, but his primary target was Dirksen.
Dirksen claimed that he was not a moralist but a legislator. And he and his
Republican colleagues knew that they had compelling reasons to support the
bill. In a presidential election year, he knew his party could suffer significant
losses if they chose not to support this bill and be viewed as obstructionists
or racists. (The irony is that would become the case in part because of one
particular Republican in the Senate.)
Because of the necessity
of winning Dirksen over, Humphrey listened to his initial proposed amendments
with patience and deference, much against the will of his fellow liberals who
wanted Dirksen to be treated as a supplicant. But on April 24th, he
made his first substantive move towards cooperation when it came to offering an
amendment based on a southern one on jury trials. It was the first time he had
shown he was willing to side with Humphrey. Over more than a month Humphrey went
back and forth with Dirksen until he had nailed down 26 votes from the GOP for
cloture.
On June 10th,
the final vote began. By a margin of 71-29 the vote for cloture passed. Forty four Democrats and 27 Republicans had
supported cloture, while only 23 Democrats and 6 Republican opposed. The bill
eventually passed 73-27 on June 19, 1964 – one year after Kennedy had proposed
the bill to Congress.
Yet despite Dirksen’s
efforts, the Republican took a huge loss. One of the most prominent Republican
opponents of the bill was Goldwater. Not only had he not voted for it, but he
had also spoken strongly against it. His vote and his subsequent rise to becoming
candidate for President the next month was the beginning of the end of the
Democratic party’s dominance in first Presidential politics and elected offices
in the South. It would also be the main cause of African-American voters
leaving the Republican party for good.
Richard Nixon had carried nearly thirty percent of the African American
vote four years earlier; in 1964, Goldwater would get less than seven and since
then, it is rare for a Republican Presidential candidate to get any more.
Humphrey and Goldwater
despite their ideological differences had been friends in the Senate, but they
were about to go head to head. Johnson, however, had spent much of the months
leading to the Atlantic City Convention, offering Humphrey the nomination with
one hand and seeming to dangle to many on the other.
I have mentioned in a
previous article about the struggle Johnson had with the boom for Bobby Kennedy
for Vice President. He also spent much
of the next several months going through polls with Humphrey’s fellow Senator
Eugene McCarthy. Then on the eve of the convention, Johnson made his old friend
play mediator: who would represent Mississippi at the convention an all-white-delegation
or the mostly black Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party, claiming to represent
nearly half a million black Mississippians who had been denied the right to
vote. Many believed that if Humphrey had made a botch of this, he would have
lost his spot on the ticket, and now he was being asked to use his considerable
position on civil rights to avoid a conflict on a battle he had spent his
career advocating for.
The ‘compromise’ he finally
negotiated pleased no one. The credentials committee would only seat those
delegates who would take an oath pledging support for the ticket that November.
Two Freedom Party delegates were seated with the rest of the all-white
Mississippi delegation; the rest of the black delegates would be on the floor
as ‘honored guests’. The agreement also would include a rule that barred any
future all-white delegations. The Mississippi and Alabama delegations still
walked out of the convention hall, and Johnson was not even put on the ballot
in Alabama. (Both states went overwhelmingly for Goldwater that November in a
portent of things to come.)
Even after all this
Johnson still decided to add drama by announcing he was flying to the
convention with Connecticut Senator Thomas Dodd. And even when Johnson offered
him the job, Johnson still tried to talk him out of it: “calling it a thankless
job” and that most Presidents and Vice Presidents don’t hit it off.” The office
would require “complete loyalty. All people associated with the President will
look down on you. They’re not interested in you and they’ll try to stir up
difficulties between the President and the Vice President.” Humphrey would have
to state his objections privately with no disagreements.
In no uncertain terms
Johnson was telling Humphrey exactly what he was in for as Vice President and it
was essentially a campaign promise he kept. But Humphrey wanted to be President
and he knew this was the only way forward.
But one of his closest
friends years later told the truth about it when he was asked what the high
point of Humphrey’s vice presidency was.” He would always give the same answer:
“It was the night he was nominated. Everything from there was downhill.”
It didn’t seem so
initially. That November Lyndon Johnson defeated Barry Goldwater in one of the
great landslides in history. He received nearly 61% of the popular vote and 486
electoral votes. Goldwater carried merely Arizona and five Southern states. It
looked like Lyndon Johnson had an electoral mandate that would stand for his imagined
Great Society and the conservative revolt led by Goldwater and his troops had doomed
the GOP to irrelevance.
But in the first week of
August in 1964, an incident in the Gulf Of Tonkin – involving one real attack
on American ships and another fabricated would lead to Lyndon Johnson
authorizing greater involving in the Vietnam War. A resolution would be passed
in Congress authorizing greater involvement was passed less than two days later
with no opposition in the house and only two Senators voted against it – Wayne Morse
of Oregon and Ernest Gruening of Alaska. (Both men lost their reelection campaigns.)
Goldwater himself voted for it and while several liberal Senators such as George
McGovern and Gaylord Nelson were reluctant, William Fulbright persuade them
more to help Johnson than to allow Goldwater a chance to become President.
Richard Russell had always
had severe doubts about America’s involvement in Vietnam. A month before
Kennedy’s assassination, he had an extensive conversation with the President arguing
against deepening the conflict. He expressed similar doubts to his old friend
but on the Senate floor, he supported to resolution saying: “Our national honor
is at stake. We can not and will not shrink from it.” Humphrey had voted for it
as well, and if he had any doubts at the
time, he kept them to himself.
In the next entry I will
deal with how the increasing involvement in Vietnam would permanently damage
Humphrey relationship with Johnson, how it forced him to compromise in ways he
truly didn’t believe in pursuit of the Presidency and his eventual campaign for
the 1968 nomination was devastating from beginning to end.
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