WHAT IF THE HOUSE DECIDES?
ARCHAIC laws and institutions are often dangerous--a truism that Americans are rediscovering in a rather special sense during the 1968 presidential campaign. They are doing so with the help of George Wallace. The Alabamian is gaining so many votes, says one happy Southern Congressman, that he is now as strong as "50 acres of horseradish." Other Congressmen are appalled at the possible result: the Wallace phenomenon may throw the election into the House of Representatives. The outcome could foil most voters' wishes and upset the two-party system in Congress. To House Majority Whip Hale Boggs, "the idea is absolute anarchy."
The problem is that a presidential candidate needs more than a popular plurality to win the election--he must also gain a clear majority in the Electoral College, which now has 538 electors. The Twelfth Amendment (1804) requires separate electoral votes for President and Vice President. But this originally clarifying rule has long been a potential source of confusion. If the popular winners lack electoral majorities, the House selects a President from among the three candidates who have received the most votes in the Electoral College. The Senate Dicks a Vice President in the same fashion, but considers only the leading two candidates for that office. Deadlocks are less likely in the Senate, with only two men at issue, than in the House with three. Under the entire system, however, incredible deals and pressures become possible.
The decision has not been referred to Congress since 1824, when Andrew Jackson lost the presidency (he later won it twice) despite having collected 42.2% of the popular vote, against 31.9% for John Quincy Adams and 13% each for House Speaker Henry Clay and Georgia's William H. Crawford. In the Electoral College, Jackson's three opponents denied him a majority. In the House, Clay threw his support to Adams, who thus became President. Though Clay hotly denied Jacksonian charges that he had made a deal, he was soon appointed Secretary of State by Adams. Tempers ran so high that Clay fought a duel with John Randolph, who had publicly vilified the Clay-Adams alliance as "the combination of the Puritan and the blackleg."
Uneasy Control
A similar set-to, if not a duel, could possibly recur this year if Wallace won, say, the 47 electoral votes of Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi and South Carolina. In that case, either Richard Nixon or Humphrey would need 55% of the remaining electoral votes to take the election. A popular-vote cliffhanger such as 1960 might well send the election to Capitol Hill--resulting in all sorts of weird possibilities and permutations.
In the House, each state's delegation in a presidential showdown has just one vote--to be determined by a simple majority of the delegation. There are now 29 Democratic-controlled delegations in the House, with 18 controlled by Republicans, and three evenly split (a tied vote in a delegation neutralizes it). Yet 30 delegations are so closely divided that the shift of a single seat in November could change their makeup to Democratic, Republican or neutral. With the votes of 26 of the 50 House delegations needed to choose a President, the G.O.P. could increase its present control from 18 delegations to the required majority by simply electing one new Congressman in each of seven close states and two in another state.
Predicting a House decision is obviously impossible at this point. Even if the Democrats retained control of a majority of the delegations, some individual Congressmen, under pressure from constituencies or conscience, might bolt the party. Many Southern Democrats, whether pro or anti-Wallace, might turn against the Administration leadership and vote the way their districts did--presumably for the Alabamian.
Speaker John McCormack and Majority Leader Carl Albert insist that House Democrats must stick to the party line, and they are preparing to discipline renegades severely by stripping them of seniority and desirable committee assignments if they fail to vote for Humphrey. House Republican Leader Jerry Ford has cannily avoided making any such threats to G.O.P. Congressmen. For one thing, he knows how much easier it will be for Republicans to pledge their support to Nixon than it will be for all Democrats--particularly Southerners--to promise in advance to back Humphrey. In fact, Ford is prepared to welcome defecting Democrats into the G.O.P. and assign them to new committee posts befitting their talents and seniority. If Ford gets many takers, both liberal Democrats and liberal Republicans may face a new majority of G.O.P. conservatives, many of them Wallacites.
Democrats, Republicans and Wallace partisans are all thinking up speculative election scenarios. One possibility is that neither Nixon nor Humphrey might win an apparent majority of electoral votes in November. Then, between the election and the official balloting of the Electoral College on December 16, Wallace would try to bargain his electoral votes for such concessions as a voice in selecting Cabinet members or Supreme Court Justices. If that fell through, Wallace could still throw his electors to one of the candidates -- and loudly claim to have elected that man President.
Another possibility is that Nixon or Humphrey might win the presidency in the House -- and then find himself with a Vice President of the opposite party after the Senate has acted. One scenario now current in Washington:
On Nov. 5, Nixon emerges with the most votes, popular and electoral, in the three-man race. Humphrey follows, but Wallace has amassed enough electoral strength to deny both men the presidency. Nixon and Humphrey refuse to bargain for Wallace's electoral votes. The election therefore goes to the House, where the Democrats have retained control of 27 state delegations. At the same time, the Senate meets to name a Vice President. There, the Democrats have retained control, 53 to 47. The rules eliminate the No. 3 candidate: out goes Curtis LeMay, the Wallace running mate. And enough Southern Democrats follow party discipline to elect Edmund Muskie as Vice President. In the House, however, all three presidential candidates are eligible. Southern Democrats, enraged by Humphrey's attacks on Wallace during the bitter campaign, refuse to fall in behind the Minnesotan. Some cross party lines to vote for Nixon, but for days the House remains deadlocked. Thus, in accordance with the 20th Amendment, Muskie is sworn in as Acting President on Jan. 20 and serves "until a President shall have qualified"--conceivably as long as four years, if the House impasse continues.
Bizarre Plausibility
There are other odd--and rather chilling--possibilities. A sample fantasy: The Wallace-LeMay ticket runs second in electoral votes behind Nixon-Agnew. On New Year's Day, the Communist Chinese strike the U.S. in Asia, perhaps in Viet Nam; a tide of reaction floods the nation. The House remains deadlocked on a presidential choice after days of belligerent debate. Wallace supporters scent victory and refuse to bolt to Nixon. The Senate, meantime, bows to the nation's angry mood and by two votes names Curtis LeMay to be Vice President. With the House still deadlocked on Jan. 20, LeMay becomes Acting President. (If the Senate tied before Jan. 20, Vice President Humphrey's vote would be decisive.)
Should both the House and the Senate remain deadlocked, of course, then, according to the rules of succession laid down in 1947, the Acting President would be 77-year-old John McCormack--assuming that he wins a fifth term as House Speaker.
One New York lawyer argues that even Nelson Rockefeller could wind up in the White House. This theory has a bizarre plausibility. Assume that Wallace carries only four Deep South states with a combined total of less than 43 electoral votes. As one result, both Nixon and Humphrey fail to gain the needed 270 majority in the Electoral College. As another, New York's 43 electors--chosen under Nixon's G.O.P. banner but not constitutionally bound to vote for him--revive old loyalties, cast their ballots for Rockefeller. Heeding the Constitution, the Electoral College sends the names of Nixon, Humphrey and Rockefeller to the House as the three top electoral vote getters. The House, unable to resolve a deadlock between Nixon and Humphrey, turns to a compromise choice--President Nelson Rockefeller.
Impossible? No, but highly improbable. And yet there is an uneasy feeling that none of these speculations can be totally dismissed. The American electoral system is so archaic and complex that, in uncertain times, it is bound to stimulate fantasy and even fear.
This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.