The Presidency: Across The River to Bathos

THE PRESIDENCY

Not since the fall of 1946, when Harry Truman hardly dared utter a word in public for fear that his own unpopularity would rub off on exposed Democratic candidates, had a President remained so sequestered from a national election campaign. Lyndon Johnson had not exactly planned it that way. Early in July the President hinted that he would visit all 50 states on behalf of Democratic candidates, but the sharp summer slump in his popularity caused the program to be scuttled. Last week he joined the battle for the first time since Labor Day, traditional kickoff date for formal electioneering. Instead of 50 states, he has so far campaigned in only one.

But Old Campaigner Johnson is not, after all, to be denied the delights of pulling crowds and pressing palms. His six-nation Asian tour will take care of that. It will also, conveniently, bring him home less than a week before election day, and will keep Hubert Humphrey tied to Washington while he is away. By absenting themselves from domestic politics in the cause of foreign relations, Johnson and his Vice President could hardly do more to help embattled Democratic candidates.

Mother’s Mikes. If the President is dismayed by the psephologists (only 46% of the people approve of him, according to last week’s Gallup poll), he showed not a trace of it at his press conference, one of the most successful in his 1,051 days in office. There was none of the stagy cuteness he used in announcing three major appointments in the State Department last month, none of the petulance that too often has marred his press relations. Even “Mother,” the President’s awesome electronic lectern, was stripped of some of its gadgetry so that a couple of old-fashioned microphones showed.

This time Johnson made his brief announcements with dignity and clarity. He elaborated on his Asian trip and, to the surprise of many of the 187 reporters, photographers and electronic journalists present, showed no trace of his habitual rancor over the widespread leakage of his travel plans. Queried about the continuing decline of the stock market, he candidly confessed that his Administration and “questions of doubt about our tax policy” might be at least in part to blame.

Smiling Exit. In response to a diatribe against his Demonstration Cities bill from Texas Reporter Sarah McClendon—who, with her hair flying everywhere to Halloween, looked like Comedienne Phyllis Diller in a hurricane —Johnson good-humoredly assured her that while he did not concur with her “legal analysis” of the bill, he thanked her for the opportunity to defend “one of the most important pieces of legislation that we can act upon this session.” Asked for his comment on some G.O.P. criticism that his Asian trip was timed to coincide with the elections—the kind of question that has sometimes in the past led to a petty tirade on “Who are the critics? Where are they saying that?”—L.B.J. responded mildly: “I just think you have to evaluate the critics and judge the circumstances and draw your own conclusions.” The President walked away with a smile. So, for a change, did the reporters.

Molly &the Babies. Yet Lyndon Johnson is a man of many characters and complex moods. While he found just the right touch in his speech on Europe, he achieved only bathos in his lone campaign foray into Newark, N.J. Pointedly failing even to shake hands with New York Democratic Gubernatorial Candidate Frank O’Connor, who is in a tight race with Nelson Rockefeller, the President crossed the Hudson to boost New Jersey Senatorial Contender Warren Wilentz, who has little hope of defeating the incumbent liberal Republican, Clifford Case.

Johnson could not have been of much help. All but discarding a well-written text, he launched into a country-style, tub-thumping harangue that sent away a good part of his audience before he had finished. Standing in a concrete canyon in one of the grimiest cities in America, he declared how happy he was to get away from Washington “out in this fresh, green country.” He unreeled a stupefying equation purporting to show that the 9% increase in living costs since the start of the Kennedy Administration is minuscule compared to the rise in income: “You take 9 from 49 and that’s 40% left for Molly and the babies.”* Resurrecting the specter of Depression breadlines and soup kitchens, he roared that the Democrats would register “a net gain” in the November elections. Johnson seemed excited and exhilarated, as he always is by crowds, but even Newark’s Democratic Mayor Hugh Addonizio had left the scene before the presidential motorcade pulled away. L.B.J. had badly mispronounced his name.

*Actually, even using L.B.J.’s equation, Molly and the babies are left with only 38%. In discarding his text, Johnson discarded the correct figures showing incomes rising by 47%.