All Over? Or Just Starting?

POLITICS All Over? Or Just Starting?

Last July, immediately after the Republican Convention in San Francisco, the political consensus was that Barry Goldwater would do better against Lyndon Johnson than most people had thought. This week, after the Democratic Convention in Atlantic City, there is a feeling among observers that the election is all but over, and Johnson will re-enter office with mandate enough to do almost anything he pleases.

The new consensus stems from the obvious fact that never in recent political history has one man held such sway over a major American political party. At Atlantic City, L.B.J. was in total charge. His political cake was like the one given him on his 56th birthday-- big enough both to have and to eat.

The Details. What is the secret of Lyndon's ascendancy? Unlike Franklin Roosevelt--and certainly unlike Barry Goldwater--he does not polarize public opinion. Rather, he unpolarizes it. People neither love him nor loathe him. They simply stand in awe of his considerable talents--and, sometimes, in fear of his relentlessness in using those talents.

Johnson's attention to detail is such that not only did he decree the nomination of Hubert Humphrey as his running mate, but he picked the people to deliver Humphrey's nominating and seconding speeches in order to show the broadest party unity. Chosen to nominate Humphrey was Hubert's junior Senate colleague from Minnesota, Eugene McCarthy, who had been led to believe that he himself might be tapped for second place on the national ticket. McCarthy got the assignment from White House Aide Walter Jenkins. He acceded reluctantly, and his speech was barely perfunctory in praise of Humphrey.

Then there was Florida's Senator George Smathers, chosen by Lyndon to deliver one of Humphrey's numerous seconding speeches. Liberal Humphrey, a longtime champion of civil rights, is not popular down where Smathers comes from, and Smathers knows this only too well. "I really like Hubert," he says, "but I know the difficulty of carrying that load in the South." At any rate, he accepted the duty, seconded Humphrey, and even looked as though he enjoyed it. Johnson also arranged for a domesticated Deep Dixie Senator, South Carolina's Olin Johnston, to make the motion that Humphrey be nominated by acclamation.

The Hard Facts. The point is that Lyndon Johnson understands power--and its uses. Harry Truman complained that the President did not have enough power really to get things done. Republican Dwight Eisenhower deliberately refrained from exercising executive power, always praising Congress as a coequal branch. John Kennedy came bursting into the White House with a copy of Richard Neustadt's book, Presidential Power, under his arm. There were, he declared, ways to get things accomplished despite a recalcitrant Congress, and he was going to show everyone how. Almost immediately he ran into trouble with Congress, and few of his most prized programs became law during his lifetime.

Johnson, with his understanding that power is a combination of force, persuasion, compromise and attention to detail, has seen passed into law several major Kennedy bills, including civil rights, a federal pay raise and the tax cut. He has signed his own anti-poverty bill. His record of domestic performance is immensely impressive. His nation is prosperous; indeed, Lyndon's main increment to Democratic voting blocs comes from the business community.

In his Atlantic City acceptance speech, the President justifiably pointed with pride to his domestic accomplishments. But "domestic" was the key word. Aside from a great many sweeping references to "peace," Lyndon generally avoided the hard facts of international life. It has been rare in recent years for a President, or a candidate for President, not to give prime importance to America's role in the world.

Was it also a political error? Barry Goldwater thought so, and immediately hurled the word "isolationist" at Johnson--giving back the label with which Democrats had bedeviled Republicans for two decades. "The eyes and ears of the entire world were turned to that speech," said Barry, "looking and listening for the vision and strength that would once again put America on the high road of world leadership. Instead, the world witnessed a vision turned inward, isolated and sighted only toward domestic political advantage."

Thus the consensus that came after Atlantic City may be just as tenuous as the afterglow from San Francisco. Between now and November, Johnson and Humphrey must contend against two men, Goldwater and William Miller, who are nothing if not swift to seize upon issues. And even as the Democrats were leaving Atlantic City, two old issues took on new meaning. The newest crisis in South Viet Nam, with its cruel religious war (see THE WORLD), made it increasingly evident that the U.S., despite its outpouring of dollars and lives, has been unable to impose any sort of order there, much less win a war against Communism. And in Philadelphia, a senseless, looting Negro riot made it grimly clear that the U.S. has a long way to go in imposing law and order at home.

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