Ike and Dick.
Lewis, Paul H.
The President and the Apprentice: Eisenhower and Nixon, 1952-1961
by Irwin F. Gellman (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2015)
Professor Gellman's jumbo tome (791 pages, including notes,
bibliography, and index) is intended as the definitive revisionist
history of the Eisenhower administration, with special emphasis on the
relationship between the president and his vice president, Richard
Nixon. Gellman claims that most of the writing about that relationship
has been wrong and biased. Liberal historians, political scientists, and
journalists could not forgive Eisenhower for twice defeating their idol,
Adlai Stevenson, and so have dismissed him as a dull, inarticulate, and
ineffectual president. But their real vitriol has been directed against
Nixon, who was more aggressively partisan and--worse yet--one of those
most responsible for exposing Alger Hiss as a communist spy.
Gellman has worked on this topic for twenty years and has
previously published a book on Nixon that was nominated for a Pulitzer
Prize. In his research he consulted the Nixon Presidential Library, the
Eisenhower archives, the Truman and Johnson presidential libraries, the
National Archives, several college libraries, and the papers of various
people involved with Eisenhower and Nixon between 1952 and 1961.
Gellman's main concern is to dispel the common notion that
Eisenhower disliked and distrusted Nixon and gave him few
responsibilities as vice president. He rejects the claims that Ike
wanted someone other than Nixon as his running mate in 1952, and also in
1956. True, the discovery by Democrats of a secret fund set up by
wealthy Nixon supporters to defray his campaign expenses did jeopardize
his selection in 1952, but his powerful self-defense in a television
speech impressed Eisenhower with his courage and secured his place on
the ticket.
It is also true that in 1956 Eisenhower urged Nixon to accept a
cabinet appointment as secretary of defense, rather than continue as
vice president. But, Gellman argues, that was because Ike was grooming
him to be his successor and thought that running an executive department
would give him more "depth." When Nixon turned down the
suggestion because he thought it would look like a demotion, Ike
accepted the decision and kept him as his running mate.
The President and the Apprentice is chiefly devoted to showing that
Nixon had "more responsibility and more authority than any vice
president before him." Eisenhower had been so shocked by how
unprepared Harry S. Truman had been to assume the presidency after
Franklin D. Roosevelt's death that he was determined to keep Nixon
informed of most of the decisions made in the White House. Nixon
attended weekly meetings of the cabinet and the National Security
Council and chaired them when Eisenhower was absent. He also met with
foreign dignitaries when Ike couldn't attend and went on
fact-finding trips to East Asia, the Middle East, Africa, and Latin
America. According to Gellman, those trips turned Nixon into a valued
consultant on foreign policy for Eisenhower and John Foster Dulles, the
secretary of state.
Furthermore, because Ike disliked politics and politicians, Nixon
was delegated to deal with congressmen and party officials. At campaign
time it was Nixon who barnstormed around the country, attacking the
Democrats and generating enthusiasm among the GOP base while Ike stayed
"above it all." Ike would not trade insults with a demagogic
bully like Senator Joseph McCarthy, so it was up to Nixon to work behind
the scenes and eventually bring McCarthy down.
Similarly, it was Nixon who did the most to line up Republican
support in Congress for the 1957 Civil Rights Act that created the Civil
Rights Commission and a Civil Rights Division in the Justice Department
to enforce African American voting rights. Gellman devotes considerable
space to dismissing claims that the Act's passage was due largely
to Lyndon Johnson's work as Democrat Majority Leader.
Johnson's main contribution, he says, was to get the Southern
Democrats to go along by convincing them that some bill had to pass and
making it palatable for them by watering down the enforcement clauses.
Because he so disdained politics, Ike wanted to run the executive
branch as he had run the army. He would make the big policy decisions,
which then would be carried out by loyal subordinates in his cabinet.
The cabinet was filled with successful corporation executives, however,
whose expert opinions he solicited in weekly meetings. In brief, the
administration's style was managerial, with emphasis on cooperation
and teamwork. Its policy style was "middle of the road" or
nonideological. There would be no all-out assault on popular New Deal
programs like Social Security, yet there was no desire to expand the
welfare state either.
Spending had to be kept under control in order to fight the
inflation that Truman left behind. Even defense spending had to be
rolled back once the Korean War ended. In the beginning, the
administration depended on threats of "massive retaliation" to
contain Soviet expansionism and rely less on maintaining expensive
ground forces; but as time went on, "coexistence" began to
replace "containment" as the watchword. There was more
emphasis on giving foreign aid to developing countries, to help
stabilize them and to prevent communist infiltration.
Civil rights, which became an important issue in the 1950s, got a
big boost with the Warren Court, whose chief justice was an Eisenhower
appointee. When Arkansas governor Orval Faubus defied a federal
court's order to desegregate Little Rock's schools, Eisenhower
sent in troops to enforce the decree. Ike also ordered the desegregation
of all the District of Columbia's hotels and restaurants, set up a
President's Committee on Government Contracts to encourage minority
hiring, and ordered a more rigorous enforcement of Truman's 1948
executive order to desegregate the armed forces. And, as noted above,
there was the 1957 Civil Rights Act, which Gellman calls the first law
of its kind since 1875. Liberal critics have alleged that Ike did little
for civil rights and was, perhaps, secretly racist; but Gellman insists,
more than once, that he did more for civil rights than either FDR or
Truman.
Being "above politics" meant that Ike's personal
popularity failed to rub off on the Republican Party. He came to the
presidency in 1952 with a Republican majority in both houses of
Congress, but the Democrats regained the House and Senate in 1954 and
kept them theteafter. Even Ike's huge victory over Stevenson in
1956 failed to provide "coattails" for the GOP. Then, in 1958,
came what Gellman calls "the implosion": the Republicans'
worst defeat--in terms of races for Congress, governorships, and state
legislatures--since the Roosevelt landslide of 1936. "Middle of the
road" politics failed to attract any southern Democrat defectors
while it alienated right-wing Republicans of the Taft and McCarthy
factions.
While pocketing their gains under Eisenhower, African Americans
were angry at his refusal to use the presidential bully pulpit to demand
more. Nixon's mediation of a crippling steel strike in 1959 left
neither management nor labor fully satisfied. The administration's
insistence on tight money and balanced budgets was ill-received during
the recessions of 1954, 1958, and 1960 by a public that included many
people with memories of the Great Depression. Finally, the public was
panicked when, in October 1957, the Soviet Union sent its Sputnik
satellite into space. And when the U.S. failed to launch its own
satellite from Cape Canaveral that December, the Democrats accused
Eisenhower of letting the Russians achieve military and technological
superiority by his penny-pinching on scientific education and research.
Although Nixon performed many important duties for the
administration, he and Eisenhower were never on intimate terms. For
example, he always addressed Eisenhower as "Mr. President,"
never as "Ike." After all, Eisenhower was old enough to be his
father, and so acted more like a benevolent mentor than as a bosom
buddy. Nevertheless, Gellman found abundant evidence for Ike's high
regard for his apprentice. He reports that Ike's diary contains
many entries that record his view of Nixon as a loyal, bright, and
energetic member of the administration.
He especially was appreciative of the competent way that Nixon
conducted the government in his place when Ike was hospitalized in 1955
(heart attack), 1956 (intestinal blockage), and 1957 (mild stroke). On
recovering from the last of these, he wrote Nixon to express his
gratitude "for your understanding and help," and in a letter
he wrote to Nixon near the end of 1959 he acknowledged "a debt...
that I can never repay but which I shall always remember." At a
White House press conference on November 5, 1958, he told reporters that
Nixon had been "party to every principal governmental committee or
organization that we have and, therefore, is not only kept informed of
what is going on, but is in a very special position to contribute his
thinking.... I don't know how his role in the Executive Branch
could be greater."
Despite these earlier accolades, Ike did little to help Nixon when
the latter ran for the presidency in 1960 against John F. Kennedy.
Indeed, he may have been instrumental in his
"apprentice's" defeat. One of Nixon's main campaign
themes was his supposed superior policy-formulating experience as
Eisenhower's vice president. Naturally, the press wanted more
details from Ike on that claim; but when asked at an August 24 press
conference whether Nixon had ever influenced a decision of his,
Eisenhower at first refused to answer and finally snapped back: "If
you give me a week, I might think of one. I don't remember."
It was a fatal remark and, although Ike later apologized to Nixon for
it, the Democrats used it as a club.
Gellman claims that authors have distorted that incident by leaving
out the fact that Eisenhower was not feeling well and was preparing to
leave the podium. He insists that Ike meant to say that he would answer
the question at next week's press conference, although in fact none
was held and Ike never clarified his remarks. We have only
Gellman's assertion to go on. More puzzling still is how little
space Gellman gives in this extensive tome to Eisenhower's
relationship with Nixon during that presidential campaign, even though
the book's title would seem to cover that period.
Stephen Ambrose, one of Gellman's alleged falsifiers, provides
more context about the 1960 race. Even before the August 24 conference,
Eisenhower had refused to give Nixon the strong endorsement he needed.
Every time he was asked about Nixon's role in presidential
decision-making, Ike would insist that he alone made all the decisions,
based on his own judgment. Yes, Nixon voiced his opinion at meetings,
but only the president had "the decisive power." Ambrose
suggests that Eisenhower may have been miffed by Nixon's refusal to
take his advice about avoiding a television debate with Kennedy. In my
opinion, though, Ike's thoughtless remarks to the press reflected
his top-down managerial style. He was annoyed by the reporters'
insinuations that anyone could share decision-making authority with the
commander in chief. An apprentice, however apt, was still an apprentice.
Paul H. Lewis is emeritus professor of political science at Tulane
University.