LOUISIANA: Political Algebra

Earl Long was never much shucks in school. But Earl, like his late brother Huey P., is hot stuff at political algebra. Last week Louisiana’s latest Governor gradually unfolded before the lackluster eyes of his citizens a complicated new formula for solidifying his power. At first the succession of events made no sense: only by week’s end did the political algebra begin to solve out.

Under blunt Police Superintendent Louis F. Guerre, State troopers tramped into the office of David M. Ellison, Attorney General. Capt. J. A. Holliday called out his militia, saying “it was nothing but a drill.” By these martial hints, Ellison learned he was no longer Attorney General. Governor Long had decided after four months that Ellison had taken his oath of office illegally. Also ousted was the first assistant, bald, old Kingfish-worshipping James O’Connor. Next day Ellison, with a straight face, remarked that Long had done him a “favor,” withdrew from the January 16 primary as opposition candidate to New Orleans’ City Attorney Francis Burns, Long’s choice for Attorney General.

Into office came Edward M. Heath, machine man, as first assistant attorney general. His first act was to appear before a three-judge court, beg that a certain hearing be postponed for two days until he could familiarize himself with the details of the case.

This hearing was on charges made by seven rebel members of the Orleans Parish Grand Jury against the probity of District Attorney Charles A. Byrne. Mr. Byrne has supposedly been aiding the jury in a probe of the tangled corruption of Parish affairs throughout the State. Meantime pressure was brought—apparently by Earl Long—on Byrne to resign. Said Byrne: “There is no power or influence that can make me resign.” Eighteen hours later he resigned, giving the familiar Louisiana excuse of “ill health.”

Now the algebra began to clear a little. To Byrne’s job the Governor appointed Neils Hertz. One hour and 15 minutes after Hertz had been sworn in, the three-judge hearing on the rebel jurors’ charges was dismissed, on Hertz’ motion. The argument: if Byrne is out, why investigate him? After months of work, the jurors were getting close to what may be Louisiana’s highest-smelling corruption, the alleged “tax racket,” whereby citizens and corporations agreed with tax officials on luscious tax reductions, with the savings split both ways. To terminate the hearing on Byrne’s qualifications, thus also terminating the hearing of evidence on the tax racket, which was nearing the danger point of naming higher-ups, Byrne had been sacrificed by Long.

Governor Long then began his New Orleans campaign for the Governorship with the reassuring statement that his “hands were clean.” But at this point the Federal Government showed interest in why the tax-racket hearings had been stopped. One of Attorney General Frank Murphy’s “smart boys,” Harold Rosenwald, announced that the Federal Grand Jury would immediately start hearings. Earl Kemp Long kept mum. But he and all Louisiana were aware that only Earl’s boss, Mayor Robert S. Maestri of New Orleans, still remained untouched by the tidal wave that in four months has washed up nearly every major figure in the old Huey Long machine.