Last week’s theater of Democratic politics had a familiar look. In one act was Adlai Stevenson, with another skilled, polished performance. In another was Harry S. Truman, the 71-year-old trouper, still giving ’em hell.
The idea for the Stevenson script originated in the bouncy political organization of Minnesota’s Democratic Senator Hubert Humphrey, whence came the suggestion that Stevenson, as a peg for taking off on the Eisenhower Administration, might recall the 1952 campaign day when both Adlai and Ike traveled to Kasson, Minn., to set forth their farm policies.
Stevenson wrote a letter to Kasson Farmer Henry Snow, in whose pasture the candidates had appeared. Excerpts:
“I drove into Kasson that day just as General Eisenhower drove out, and I have a vivid memory of the excitement with which I was told that Candidate Eisenhower had not merely endorsed the support of basic farm prices at 90% of parity but had come out for 100% of parity. The distinct and, I fear, deliberate impression he had left was that he favored Government supports of 100% parity, while at the same time endorsing his party’s platform pledge to abandon all production controls . . .
“Since that day three years ago the farm situation has steadily worsened under an Administration that embraces flexible price supports while maintaining distressing rigidity of mind . . . The current farm distress is dangerous to our whole economy in an age of ever-closer economic interdependencies. If it continues, it must inevitably affect the prosperity so arduously fostered through 20 years of Democratic Government …”
Drowned Out. The press play was less than expected. As had happened before, Stevenson’s carefully cadenced sentences could hardly be heard against the din of Harry Truman.
In Detroit for a Labor Day speech, Truman was in mid-campaign form. The Democratic nominee in 1956, cried Truman, will “not be the kind of man who will give you a big smile and some nice promises in the political campaign and then turn you over to your enemies for the next four years . . . You are—we all are—confronted with the opposition or indifference of an Administration dominated by big business, an Administration concerned more with dollars than with people.
The prospect of the A.F.L. C.I.O. merger, said Truman, is “scaring the daylights out of the Republicans,” and there is evidence that “Republican politicians are getting ready to play pretty rough next year.” Then he looked up from his text and added: “If the Democratic Party invites me into the campaign, they’ll get all the ‘rough’ they want.”
Bipartisan Slurs. Moving on to Chicago, Truman briskly fielded the questions tossed at him by newsmen and by his capacity luncheon audience at the famed Executives Club. How is his health? “There’s a lady named Anno Domini and she’s trying to catch up with me.” Can the Democrats beat Ike next year? “I’ve never yet seen a Republican I didn’t think could be beaten.” Does he repent having removed General Douglas MacArthur from his Far East command? “I’ve only repented that I didn’t fire him two years sooner . . . MacArthur never had orders to stop at the 38th parallel. He didn’t cross the Yalu because there were a million and a half Chinese waiting there.”
Truman did not limit his attacks to Republicans. Asked if he thought Texas Governor Allan Shivers was a Democratic possibility for national office next year, Truman snorted: “Shivers? He’s not a Democrat—he’s a Shivercrat.” Does he regard New York Democratic Leader Carmine De Sapio as a kingmaker? Snapped Truman: “I don’t know anything about making kings in New York—he’s not making kings in Missouri, I can tell you that.”-
Word that Truman was back in fighting trim did not come as happy news to many Stevenson followers who still feel that Truman’s low-level campaigning hurt the party in 1952. This time, Stevenson may feel freer to disassociate himself from the ex-President. Nevertheless, as New York Timesman Arthur Krock comment ed: “Once again the Democratic Party is looking to words from Stevenson, and once again Harry S. Truman is laying down a campaign line for the party and its candidate to follow.”
Carmine De Sapio, who never sleeps, immediately telephoned Truman’s onetime secretary, Matt Connelly, and within a few hours De Sapio quoted Truman as saying that the remark “was meant to be facetious.”
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