In commencing this second lecture on the sorry state of
political parties in these United States, I ask you to indulge me
in quoting a passage from Edmund Burke's Thoughts on the Present
Discontents, a political tract, published in 1770, mordantly
critical of the ways of George III with Parliament. In this famous
essay Burke defines the phrase "political party":
When bad men combine, the good must associate; else
they will fall, one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible
struggle....
Party is a body of men united for promoting by their joint
endeavors the national interest upon some particular principle in
which they are all agreed. For my part, I find it impossible to
conceive that anyone believes in his own politics, or thinks them
of any weight, who refuses to adopt the means of having them
reduced into practice. It is the business of the speculative
philosopher to mark the proper ends of government. It is the
business of the politician, who is the philosopher in action, to
find out proper means towards those ends, and to employ them with
effect.
Now I confess myself to be one of those speculative
philosophers, mentioned by Burke, whose business it is to mark the
proper ends of government; I do not pretend to possess remedies for
all the political ills to which our nation is heir. But I venture
to criticize those politicians, in either great party, who, far
from being philosophers in action, are merely what Burke and his
contemporaries called "placemen": that is, seekers after the power
and the emoluments of public office, not scrupulous as to the means
by which advantages for themselves may be obtained. The demagogue
seeks for himself a cozy place in the political sunshine.
In my previous lecture of this series, I touched upon some
errors of the Republican Party, under George Bush, in affairs
domestic and in affairs abroad. Today I turn to the errors of the
Democratic Party, under leaders of recent years. For the past
decade the Democrats have been an opposition party -- that is, in
opposition to the national Executive Force. In their opposition the
Democrats, with some honorable exceptions, have gained little
credit for themselves.
Difficult Attitudes
The Democratic party claims descent from Jefferson's
Democratic-Republicans, but any remaining relationship to
Jeffersonians is difficult to discern. In its origins, the
Democratic Party at the beginning of the nineteenth century was the
champion of the agricultural and rural interest, the defender of
states' powers as opposed to political centralization, the advocate
of hard money and the opponent of national debt. Democratic
attitudes nowadays are very different.
For at Democratic national conventions, the cry is all for
grander federal expenditures and piling up of more debt, in
consequence. With few exceptions, the leading Democrats would
centralize everything, not bothering to reflect upon what the word
"federal" signifies. For the most part ignoring the remnant of
America's rural population, the Democrats are subservient to
organized "minorities" in America's great decayed cities; upon the
proletariat they are sedulous to confer more "entitlements," on
humanitarian principles. Senator Moynihan and a handful of other
Democratic legislators think seriously about our urban afflictions,
seeking practical remedies, a difficult task; but most Democrats in
office hold by the exploded notion that legislative bodies can
sweep away social conundrums by throwing money at them.
Democratic Majorities
In presidential contests, the Democrats have won only one
of the past six elections, and take a dim view of their own
prospects in the election of 1992. The ethnic coalition from which
they drew a great part of their support in the Roosevelt and Truman
years has been dissolving; the labor unions that delivered a
massive Democratic vote have been diminishing in numbers and in
zeal; white voters in the Old South have shifted, a great many of
them, to the Republican ticket; the Democratic party seems devoid
of imagination and deprived of true leadership. How is it, then,
that Democratic majorities prevail in House and Senate?
The answer to that question seems to be that in presidential
elections, the voting public becomes fairly well aware of the
issues in dispute and of the personalities of the candidates:
massive television coverage, prolonged newspaper discussion, and
candidates' debates give the typical voter some notion of what the
Republican presidential candidate and the Democratic candidate
respectively think and propose. So informed, the majority of
citizens then vote for the Republican, having found him nearer to
their hearts' desire.
For the Democrats, in their endeavor to cater to even the most
unlikely "minority," have alienated the majority in nearly every
state of the Union. The American public is conservative in its
sentiments, for the most part; and when the contest occurs between
candidates recognizably conservative and candidates recognizably
liberal or radical, the public prefers the conservative. The
governor of New York, Mario Cuomo, so often mentioned as a possible
Democratic presidential candidate, at present is vigorously
advocating a bill in the New York legislature to confer special
privileges upon homosexuals. The fancied political advantage to be
gained by pleasing pathics will be overwhelmed by public opinion if
ever Mr. Cuomo confronts President Bush or any other Republican
nominee who does not endeavor to reward sexual deviancy. What a
genius the Democrats this past quarter-century have developed for
misjudging public opinion!
Republican Goal
How is it, then, that nevertheless the Democratic party
holds a majority, most of the time, in both Senate and House? Why,
in the election of Senators and Representatives, the typical voter
is ill informed about the views of the respective candidates, and
knows next to nothing of their voting records, supposing them to be
incumbents of the offices at stake. The voter tends to approve a
candidate according to what the candidate claims to have
accomplished by way of securing benefits at federal expense for his
state or his congressional district, regardless of the chief
political issues of the hour. Also the voter in many such elections
is powerfully influenced by name-recognition, so that Democratic
incumbents, long entrenched in office, are almost impossible to
dislodge in many districts and states. In the long run, possession
of the executive branch of the federal government by Republicans
will work to erode the Democratic majority in both legislative
houses. But to achieve that success, Republican presidential
candidates might have to forgo the goal of winning all fifty states
for their personal triumph, and instead spend money and time upon
electing senators and representatives. Presidents Nixon, Reagan,
and Bush, although virtually certain to be elected by wide popular
and electoral majorities, somewhat neglected their duty of trying
hard to bring in Republican Congresses -- or at least their
campaign managers failed them in that respect.
However that may be, time is not on the side of the Democratic
Party: their leaders talk the language of yesteryear. Mr. Carter,
addressing the Democratic convention that had nominated him in
1976, made promises and employed a rhetoric that would have gone
down very well in 1932 or 1936, but were absurdly archaic in the
very different era of the Bicentenary. Nevertheless, Mr. Carter won
the election -- not because of what he said, but in spite of it.
His successors as Democratic presidential candidates have behaved
with equal absurdity -- being their own worst enemies -- but did
not enjoy the good fortune to run against a Republican candidate
who fancied that Poland was not Soviet dominated. Like the
Bourbons, the Democrats since F.D.R. have learned nothing and
forgotten nothing.
Time has been when the Democratic leaders were great men. One
thinks of John C. Calhoun, or Grover Cleveland. It has been
otherwise since World War II. An impartial observer -- from Mars,
say -- necessarily would regard with some misgiving a party headed
by Lyndon Johnson, whose infamy has been exposed by careful
biographers; or a party whose most conspicuous United States
Senator nowadays is the amorous and bibulous gentleman from
Massachusetts. Yet have there not been Democratic leaders of recent
decades who were veritable Galahads or Percivals, you may inquire?
Why, there were some honest and able men among those leaders; yet
not, perhaps, precisely those eminent Democrats whom the party
panegyrists delight to honor.
Take, for instance, the Honorable Hubert Humphrey, long United
States Senator from Minnesota, who since his death has been
politically canonized. Once upon a time I debated Mr. Humphrey
before a huge audience in Ann Arbor. I found him an amiable man,
courteous, forthright when assailed by a band of student fidelistas
in the crowd; but excessively fond of the sound of his own voice,
for which indeed he apologized to me at the debate's end. Yet
Senator Humphrey did not lead a career free of all stain and
reproach. I do not refer to peccadillos of the sort committed by
Mr. Gary Hart: rather, I mean a conflict of interest of the gravest
kind, in which Humphrey put his own interest above the interest of
the foreign policy of the United States -- a case involving the
security of the North Atlantic Treaty allies.
Primary Defeat
What I am about to tell you never has been published
before, although some reference to it will appear in my memoirs.
Let me preface my narration by reminding you, ladies and gentlemen,
of the hard-fought Democratic primary in West Virginia during the
year 1960. Senator Kennedy was pitted against Senator Humphrey; a
vast amount of money was expended by both presidential aspirants.
Eugene McCarthy, a Democrat as honest as he is interesting, said to
me once that this West Virginia primary was the most corrupt
episode in the political history of the United States. However that
may be, Humphrey lost the primary, if somewhat narrowly; therefore
he lost his party's presidential nomination. And he was left
forlorn with a great mass of West Virginia debts upon his
shoulders.
So much for that, just now. Our scene shifts from West Virginia
to Turkey; the events to be described occur three to four years
after Hubert Humphrey's defeat. I am about to quote to you,
verbatim, a report made to me by a retired Foreign Service officer
who at the time of those events was assigned to duties in the Near
East and the Middle East. I have known this former diplomat for a
good many years and have complete confidence in his veracity.
"One of the kindest and most helpful men in the Senate," my
informant commences, "was Hubert Humphrey of Minnesota."
He seemed sensitive to the national interest, willing
to resist special interests of the financial or ethnic sort, and
always ready to understand State's views, to advise, and to help
when he could. He even "condescended" to me socially in the grand
old meaning of that word.
In the mid-fifties, the legendary hero Ismet Inonu, successor to
Kemal Ataturk, surprised the world by permitting a free and fair
national election, and by giving up power peacefully when he lost
to Adnan Menderes. Menderes, with broad peasant support, won
handily and installed his own regime in place of that of Inonu, who
became leader of the Opposition. Within a short time the Menderes
government became the stage of typical Third World financial
corruption, much of it involving rake-offs in alleged "development"
contracts with foreign firms. When Menderes began to deprive the
Opposition of its political rights and even threatened the personal
safety of Inonu, the armed forces, feeling that their role in
society had been betrayed, threw out Menderes and his friends and
reinstalled Inonu.
Inonu, whose administration was reasonably honest by Turkish
standards, had the backing of the Army in bringing to trial and
punishment Turkish politicians and officials believed to have been
among the worst of the grafters. In one of many cases, several
officials were punished for accepting large bribes from an American
("The Promoter") who had contracted to provide a complete small
steel mill to Turkey. It was shown in the trial that the "mill" was
actually the old, rusted, and broken-down hardware from a plant on
the southern U.S. coast which had been closed as obsolete and sold
by the owners to The Promoter for one or two million dollars; for
the plant owners it was of value only as scrap. The Turkish regime
was no more than amused when The Promoter, who would have been
arrested for fraud, bribery, and conspiracy if he had entered
Turkey, formally asked the Turkish government for his final payment
of ten million dollars under the contract. He pointed out that the
machinery in question had been delivered, even though it was just
rusting on the docks in Turkey. The Turkish government refused,
noting that expert testimony in the trial had proved the machinery
to be inoperable, worthless, and not as specified in the contract.
It suggested that if The Promoter wished to pursue his claim
further, he follow the contract and file suit in a Turkish court,
and that if he felt this clause was not binding, that he join the
Turkish government in submitting the dispute to international
commercial arbitration through established private institutions.
The Promoter refused to accept that he had not fulfilled his
contract, refused to pursue the matter through either of the
suggested channels, and again demanded early payment. The Turks
paid no further attention to him; they were convinced he would lose
an arbitration and be assessed the costs of arbitration.
The annual foreign-aid legislation then came before the Senate.
To our stupefied surprise, Senator Humphrey offered and pushed to
adoption an amendment so worded as to apply only to The Promoter's
claim, to the effect that no U.S. military assistance would be
provided to any country under the bill as long as claims by an
American contractor for goods or services already provided had not
been met in full. It was further specified that the alleged quality
of goods/services delivered could not affect the requirement, nor
could any provisions of a contract providing for means of
adjudicating or arbitrating the amount claimed. This was called The
Humphrey Amendment, and was an object of amusement or outrage at
State and on Capitol Hill, but was never the subject of press
inquiry, analysis, or interest. The White House and State queried
Humphrey's staff about the possibility of a compromise, but were
told that if Senator Humphrey were to be kept on board the entire
foreign-aid project, the Amendment must become law. Our own bureau
queried the staffs of Senators Fulbright and Mansfield to see if
they couldn't make Humphrey back off or at least compromise. One of
Fulbright's top staffers told me that Humphrey, very
uncharacteristically, refused to discuss the Amendment, except to
say that it was a matter of principle to avoid the robbing of one
of his constituents (The Promoter), and that he, the Senator, would
not change a word of it. Humphrey's prestige was such that he
easily beat back the half-hearted move to reconsider the Amendment,
and the Administration did not want to tangle with him over a
measly ten million dollars.
The bill became law with the Amendment. Reluctantly we told the
Turks that deliveries of new material as provided in the
legislation and as planned by NATO could not be made until The
Promoter was paid. The Turks, who were as loyal as any ally we had,
and Inonu, who had always co-operated with us fully, pointed out
the effect on the Turkish armed forces of the delay of scheduled
deliveries, and, conversely, the effect on Turkish public opinion
as to both the U.S. and Inonu government if the money were paid to
The Promoter. There was nothing we could do. Finally Inonu had to
ask his Parliament for ten million dollars in public funds to pay
The Promoter before hundreds of millions of dollars worth of NATO
materials could be delivered. The Opposition pointed out with gusto
the overwhelming proof advanced in earlier legal proceedings that
the project was one of bribery and fraud from the beginning, and
that the machinery was nothing but scrap. Inonu swallowed the
dishonor, got the money, paid The Promoter, and got the arms and
ammunition.
While the legislation was still before the Senate, we enlisted
the help of a friendly office of the FBI, which had helped us in
the past, to check The Promoter's background on this and earlier
deals, in the hope of finding something which could be used to
influence other Senators. The world-weary FBI man, an old friend,
who had conducted most of the search and directed it all, came in
to tell me that The Promoter was quite shady and could be termed a
boardroom confidence man, but that he had never been convicted --
only a couple of unpursued indictments in minor scandals. As we
talked I opined that The Promoter just couldn't by himself wield
that much influence with the Senator -- that there must be a more
weighty partner in the woodpile. I asked him if he could, strictly
on his own and to satisfy my personal curiosity, try to dig up such
a partner. The FBI man came in a week or two later, warned me that
this meeting with me was not occurring, and informed me that there
was a partner on halves with The Promoter who bought in for a
pittance during the past year, and that the partner's name was the
maiden name of Muriel Humphrey.
During the rest of my assignment at State we continued to
receive the best possible co-operation from Senator Humphrey in all
other matters, and his personal affability was undiminished. On
reflection, and considering the common gossip that Humphrey was
tragically in debt following his primary collision with the Kennedy
moneybags, I could not work up much indignation against the Senator
personally. I saved my indignation for the interface between
foreign aid and the American political system, and slowly began to
drift toward the conclusion that any good done by foreign aid was
outweighed by the damage it caused here and abroad.
At this point, my friend's narrative ceases. Permit me to
comment that I have no animus against Hubert Humphrey. I recount
this episode merely to suggest that even the more genuine of
democratic idols may be found to have feet of clay. At least
Senator Humphrey needed the money in question. During the Kennedy
and Johnson Administrations, probably the richest man in the Senate
was the most corrupt of senators: Kerr of Oklahoma, whose devious
enriching ways are candidly described by his lieutenant, Bobby
Baker, in the latter scoundrel's memoirs. To perceive how deep in
peculation was President Johnson himself, assisted by his agents
Bobby Baker and Billy Sol Estes, one may turn to the recent memoirs
of a Republican of integrity, Senator Carl Curtis, entitled Forty
Years Against the Tide.
Doubtless a number of persons present today have read Henry
Adams' novel Democracy. In that book, an elderly diplomat from
Eastern Europe grows exasperated with a pompous American senator
whose character is suspect. Baron Jacobi is referring to political
corruption about the year 1870:
You Americans believe yourselves to be exempted from
the operation of general laws. You care not for experience. I have
lived seventy-five years, and all that time in the midst of
corruption. I am corrupt myself, only I do have the courage to
proclaim it, and you others have it not. Rome, Paris, Vienna,
Petersburg, London, all are corrupt; only Washington is pure! Well,
I declare to you that in all my experiences I have found no society
which has had elements of corruption like the United States. The
children in the street are corrupt, and know how to cheat me. The
citizens are all corrupt, and also the towns and the counties and
the States' legislatures and the judges. Everywhere men betray
trusts both public and private, steal money, run away with public
funds. Only in the Senate men take no money. And you gentlemen in
the Senate very well declare that your great United States, which
is the head of the civilized world, can never learn anything from
the example of corrupt Europe. You are right -- quite right! The
great United States needs not an example. I do much regret that I
have not yet one hundred years to live. If I could then come back
to this city, I should find myself very content -- much more than
now. I am always content where there is much corruption, and ma
parole d'honneur!" broke out the old man with fire and gesture,
"The United States will then be more corrupt than Rome under
Caligula; more corrupt than the Church under Leo X; more corrupt
than France under the Regent!
Baron Jacobi's prophecy has come to pass, more than a century
later. Everyone in this room is aware that two very eminent
Democratic leaders in the House of Representatives, last year found
it prudent to resign their seats rather than face expulsion.
Everyone also knows of the several senators who betrayed their
trust in connection with the savings and loan disaster. Everyone
has read of, if not experienced, the maladministration of demagogic
mayors elected on the Democratic ticket in certain great cities,
Washington especially. Corruption is not confined to the Democratic
party's placemen, of course; but corruption seems to have become
epidemic in the Democratic Party during recent decades.
Accepting bribes, pocketing public funds, and selling political
influence are not the worst forms of political corruption. For more
malignant still is that professed political humanitarianism which
is merely a mask for a politician's lust for power and place. Such
politicians, and they are legion in today's Democratic apparatus,
extemporize flimsy measures that will procure for them an
evanescent popularity. Senator Carl Curtis tells of a conversation,
some years ago, with a senatorial colleague of this stamp. That
colleague had been active in the passage of a fiscal bill that in
the long run would be immensely costly -- almost insupportable.
Curtis expostulated on what would be the consequences thirty years
in the future. "But I won't be in the Senate when that happens,"
said his colleague. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.
Grim Mistake
My point is this: the greatest error of the Democratic
Party nowadays is dishonesty. Here permit me to quote one of my
less-favorite authors, Voltaire: "It was worse than a crime: it was
a mistake." When a Democratic Congress appropriates vast sums for
new federal undertakings, but reproaches the executive branch for
increasing the national debt, the Democrats are dishonest -- as
they are in other great concerns. Such political hypocrisy is not a
crime for which public men may be indicted; but it is a grim
mistake. For presently a party that so behaves will be recognized
by the public as a dishonest party, and then its days will be
numbered.
When Ronald Reagan was re-elected to the presidency by so
overwhelming a majority, I suggested in public addresses that
conceivably the Democratic Party might begin to split into factions
and to follow the Federalist Party and the Whig Party down to dusty
death. That process may be at work, despite temporary Democratic
majorities in the Congress. More than the Republicans, the
Democrats have become suspect to a great part of the American
public. They are suspected of ignoring the national interest.
This present decade, just begun, will be a time when the United
States of America must make irrevocable decisions, in affairs
domestic and affairs international. We would be foolish to fancy
that a pax Americana will settle upon the world. Rather, our
situation is very like that of Britain just two centuries ago. As
Burke wrote then:
I despair neither of the public fortune nor of the
public mind. There is much to be done undoubtedly, and much to be
retrieved. We must walk in new ways, or we can never encounter our
enemy in his devious march. We are not at an end of our struggle,
nor near it. Let us not deceive ourselves; we are at the beginning
of great troubles.
Party Reform
Just so. In our time of troubles, either great political
party requires high prudence, high imagination, high honesty.
Surely the Bush Administration, which I criticized somewhat
mordantly in the course of my preceding Heritage lecture in this
series, ought to be the object of severe but honest scrutiny by the
opposing Democrats. There are yet active in the Democratic ranks
many honorable men and women capable of working a party reform. May
they come forward, for the sake of the Republic!
After all, reform is within the power of honest members of the
party. Here I quote Burke's Thoughts on the Present Discontents
once more:
Until a confidence in government is re-established, the
people ought to be excited to a more strict and detailed attention
to the conduct of their representatives. Standards for judging more
systematically upon their conduct ought to be settled in the
meetings of counties and corporations. Frequent and correct lists
of the voters in all important questions ought to be procured.
By such means something may be done. By such means it may appear
who those are that, by an indiscriminate support of all
administrations, have totally banished all integrity and confidence
out of public proceedings; have confounded the best men with the
worst; and weakened and dissolved, instead of strengthening and
compacting, the general frame of government.
From the precinct and the township upward, conceivably, the
Democratic Party may be chastened and reinvigorated. Certain
Democratic office-holders need to be taught afresh the old lesson,
"Honesty is the best policy." In a genuine parliamentary system, at
least two strong and principled parties are required. A party
dominated by frauds and fantastics cannot long endure. If the
Democrats fail at reform, some other party, the nature of which
cannot now be predicted, will supplant the Democratic Party. That
is what happened to the Liberal party in Britain. Democratic reform
lacking, the American public may be tempted to shout an old
Republican partisan cry: "Rotten eggs and dead cats are good enough
for Democrats!"