THE CONGRESS: Close Shave

“I’ve heard from the bicycle people, the candy, the textiles, the woolen industries, and the fishing companies,” groaned Massachusetts’ Democratic Representative Thomas P. O’Neill last week. He was not alone. As the U.S. House of Representatives moved toward consideration of President Eisenhower’s liberalized foreign trade bill, protests against it rolled in from the Twisted Jute Packing & Oakum Institute, the Amalgamated Lace Operatives of America, the Cherry Growers & Industries Foundation and hundreds of other interests seeking to hang on to tariff protection.

Because the leadership of both parties went all-out for it, the House finally passed Ike’s bill, but only after disclosing deep and bitter resistance to freer foreign trade inside both parties. The bill itself was moderate. As sent to the Senate, it extends the basic reciprocal trade laws until June 30, 1958, and grants the President power to reduce most tariffs by 5% in each of the next three years. For the most part, its opponents acted not on broad general principles but, rather, on each Congressman’s political estimate of specific situations in his home district.

The battle revealed two important new aspects of the old issue of tariff policy: the South, historic home of free-trade philosophy, is moving toward industrial protectionism, and one wing of the historically protectionist Republican Party is now committed to freer trade. Protectionism today is seldom defended as it was 50 years ago, as a general philosophy. Today it is an expression of localities, of every Congressman’s sensitivity to the pressure groups back home. That is why freer-trade slogans sweep the field of public debate; but when Congress comes face to face with tariff-policy discussion, many a Representative is willing to compromise U.S. world economic leadership for the sake of “just one exception” in favor of an industry in his district.

Bareheaded. Trouble broke into the open when members of the Ways & Means Committee appeared before the House traffic cop, the Rules Committee. Tennessee’s Democratic Representative Jere Cooper, chairman of the Ways & Means Committee and longtime advocate of reciprocal trade, briefly explained the bill, emphasized its moderation, promised that “there will be no drastic tariff reducing.” Cooper asked for the “usual and customary” closed rule, i.e., one that would bar amendments on the House floor but would permit a motion to send the bill back to committee for rewriting.

Opposition flared forthwith. Mississippi’s Democratic Representative William Colmer, a Rules committeeman from Pascagoula (fisheries, textiles), leaned far back in his chair and drawled: “Isn’t it true that a closed rule is really a gag?” Jere Cooper looked hurt, answered the attack with a defense of the trade bill itself. Said he: “The studies show that where a product is in bad shape, it is not so much the tariff rate that is causing it, but normal changes in tastes and customs. The felt-hat industry has complained. Well, it’s not the tariff that has hurt them. A lot of people have stopped wearing hats. Just as a lot of people have stopped smoking pipes.” Leaner. When Cooper finished, Rules Committee Chairman Howard Smith called on New York’s tough old Republican Representative Dan Reed, the archfoe of reciprocal trade, to argue against the bill. Asked Reed: “So you want to hear from the little guns first?” Replied Chairman Smith: “There are no little guns in Congress.” Dan Reed took a seat at the foot of the table. Behind him, under an ornate gold-leaf mirror, sat another staunch protectionist, Illinois’ Republican Representative Noah Mason, his cherub cheeks aglow with excitement. Cried Reed: “I formed my opinion about low tariffs as an infant during the Administration of Grover Cleveland. Yes, I formed my opinions when, gentlemen”—Reed paused to glare around the table—”when, gentlemen, I walked miles and miles to sell a dozen eggs for 10¢.” His fist crashed down on the table, setting the chandelier above him to tinkling briskly. Illinois’ Noah Mason jumped to his feet, laughing and urging Protectionist Reed to heap on the coals.

Reed did. “You talk about foreign trade. Let me remind you, gentlemen, let me remind you of our trade with Italy back in the ’30s. I can still remember how Mussolini’s son bragged—bragged, mind you—about trade with us, and where did it go? To make bombs to rain down on poor innocent women and children.” Down went Reed’s fist, papers and pencils flew helter-skelter, and Noah Mason chortled. Mississippi’s Colmer, in an artistic piece of understatement, remarked to Reed: “Well, I take it you’re opposed to the bill?” Reed replied in kind: “I lean that way.” Noah Mason, who knew that Reed was as bitterly opposed to the bill as he, doubled over in laughter, nearly fell off his chair.

A Stunner. Congressman followed Congressman in assault on the bill. Cried Illinois’ Mason: “Just remember all of those billions we have given away and what good did it do us? All those foreign countries hate America. Thank God I didn’t vote a penny for the giveaway program.” West Virginia’s Democratic Representative Cleveland Bailey rambled for 30 minutes, then said: “Now I’ll pass on rapidly to the subject at hand.” Chairman Smith glanced at the Navy-type, 24-hour clock on the wall, murmured: “Thank you.” A few minutes later, Smith called for a vote. His committee approved the closed rule, 8 to 3.

When the bill moved to the House floor, the protectionists of both parties—in revolt against the official leadership of both parties—had their strategy mapped: they would try to kill the closed rule and open the bill to crippling, log-rolling amendments. West Virginia’s Bailey led off: “Mr. Speaker, once again the duly elected members of the House find themselves under a threat of an undemocratic and un-American gag-rule procedure.” The House seats began to fill up. Republican Leader Joe Martin slouched back in his place, a forefinger pushed up on his temple. Beside him sat G.O.P. Whip Leslie Arends, nervously looking around the chamber. On the Democratic side, Majority Leader John McCormack huddled with aides. When the vote came—on a motion to consider the amendment-barring rule —it was a stunner: the motion was defeated, 207 to 178.

A Costly Promise. The protectionist forces moved quickly to consolidate their gain. Ohio’s Republican Representative Clarence Brown moved that the bill be left wide open to amendment. But Speaker Rayburn stemmed the tide. He got up from his chair, walked down the steps to the House well, and standing ramrod straight, spoke into the microphone. Said he: “Only once in the history of the House, in 42 years in my memory, has a bill of this kind and character been considered except under a closed rule . . . So as an old friend to all of you, as a lover of the House of Representatives and its procedures, I ask you to vote down this amendment.” Rayburn switched some 15 Democrats, failed to budge a hard core of 80; Brown’s amendment lost, 193 to 191.

Then came the final vote on the adoption of the closed rule. Democratic whips scurried into the aisles and cloakrooms for last-second pleas to wavering members. Les Arends, his grey hair ruffled, ran hurriedly around the chamber. John Mc Cormack snapped out orders. The rule was finally adopted, 193 to 192.

Voting against the protectionists this time was none other than Arch-Protectionist Dan Reed, who had explained earlier: “Last year, when I had a desperate fight on tax revision and other legislation, the distinguished gentleman from Tennessee [Jere Cooper] was in the minority. I asked him to cooperate with me for a tight rule to get the legislation through. He did it. I told him I would—” Reed came to the hated word, then plunged ahead, “—reciprocate.” Reed kept his promise, even though it cost him dearly. His was the deciding vote.

Clarence Brown bit his lower lip, jammed his hands in his pockets and slouched off the House floor. Cleveland Bailey charged into the House well to register a technical protest. He was over ruled. Les Arends, leaving the chamber with sweat dripping from his forehead, sighed: “And they say we don’t earn our pay.”

Blunt Word. Next day came the climactic battle. Dan Reed moved to send the bill back to committee, with instructions for a provision that would set recip rocal trade back 20 years by requiring that the President follow all Tariff Commission recommendations except in cases where the national security is involved.

The Eisenhower Administration, alert to the appeal of the Reed move and fearful over the outcome, offered a compromise.

“No.” snorted Dan Reed. “We’ll vote it up or down.” Sam Rayburn had had a score of freshmen Democrats in for break fast and had passed the word: “If you want to get along, go along.” More than 20 members addressed the House. Party lines were wiped out. Ten nessee’s Democratic Representative Ross Bass lashed the Republicans for not supporting the bill. As he spoke, Democratic Representative James C. Davis (who has a textile mill in his Stone Mountain, Ga. district) was conferring with Dan Reed about beating it, while Republican Joe Martin had crossed the aisle to consult with Democrat Jere Cooper.

Last Gasp. Old Noah Mason bounced down the aisle to the lectern. He began by saying he had not intended to speak at all — the House roared with laughter.

The debate wore on, until Joe Martin arose and walked slowly to the micro phone, pulled several papers from his in side coat pocket, looked at the sea of House faces and said: “A little while ago, the President handed me a letter. With your indulgence I will read it.” In a quiet voice, Martin read Eisenhower’s letter, which 1) promised that there will be no drastic tariff cuts, and 2) said that “I deeply believe that the national interest calls for enactment of this measure.” West Virginia’s Cleveland Bailey made one last stand for protectionism, but he was beaten — and he knew it. He told the.

House he would not use the entire ten minutes that had been allotted him. The House applauded. Bailey uttered a last-gasp snarl: “I don’t see how the President can really be very much concerned about it. The ticker just carried the word that he is going out to Burning Tree to play golf.” Finally, the House voted on Dan Reed’s motion to recommit. When the roll had been called, it seemed that the protectionists had won, 201 to 200. But Joe Martin, Indiana’s Charles Halleck, and Les Arends had too many outstanding political lOUs to let themselves be beaten in a vote that close. New York’s Republican Representative Katharine St. George switched her vote to nay. So did Illinois’ G.O.P. Representative Harold Velde. Others followed, and the Reed move was rejected, 206 to 199. The final vote on passage of the trade bill was an anticlimax.

The count: 295 for, no against.