National Affairs: Veto Vito?

The core of Manhattan’s sprawling 18th Congressional District is a verminous, crime-ridden slum called East Harlem. Its hordes of Italians, Puerto Ricans, Jews and Negroes have traditionally voted Republican. But in the last decade a new force came into power: the patchwork patronage machine of shrill, stooped, angry-eyed, pro-Communist Representative Vito

Marcantonio. The little padrone was the passionate 18th’s new-style ward boss and idol.

But last week New York politicos were talking about the fact that Vito’s eight year hammer lock on his district had begun to slip. His grip was partially loosened in the August primaries, when he won the Democratic nomination by a mere 562 votes and lost the Republican nomination to ex-A.A.F. Colonel Frederick V. P. Bryan, a crisp and confident lawyer. In his last two campaigns Vito had won both primaries, and that in the Red-rimmed American Labor Party to boot.

Something was obviously wrong with the machine. New York’s anti-Communist Liberal Party, veterans’ groups, old-line, anti-Tammany Democrats, and independent voters began to harass Marc and talk up a new deal for East H:1 cm. To help them along, Candidate Bryan invaded the grimiest corners of Marcantonio’s dead end with an oldfashioned, no-quarter campaign. Patronage or no patronage, Marcantonio would have to hustle.

“Go to Hell.” Last week, in a debate with Bryan before 1,500 bellicose voters, he did. Out for emotional exercise, the crowd heckled Bryan until Marcantonio shushed them with the remark: “Tomorrow it will be reported . . . that Marcantonio had his hoodlums here. . . .”

An irate woman then tackled Boss Marc on his pro-Russian voting record in the House—a thrust that brought a new round of boos. By the time Marcantonio closed his remarks with a ringing “My opponent, Bryan, can goplumb, straight to hell!” he was glaring and disheveled, and voters were taking off their coats in defiance of police.

Taut, 43-year-old Vito Marcantonio was born in the congressional district he lives in and represents. To its gunmen, madams, policy and dope peddlers, he is “The Hon. Fritto Misto” (Mixed Fry), the man who began as a Republican with the blessing of East Harlem’s Fiorello LaGuardia, the man who ladles out jobs, pocket money, speeches—anything for votes.

To East Harlem’s workaday citizens, however, Marcantonio is the man who fought Lend-Lease and the draft—until Germany invaded Russia; the man who has repeatedly denied Communist leanings while faithfully following the gyrations of the party line. Tammany, the C.I.O.’s P.A.C. and the A.L.P. were all supporting little Marc for re-election—but that might not be enough.