Greetings all,
Below is an article about the person who became the Democratic Party
presidential candidate in 1972, but was not wholeheartedly supported by the
center and right-wing of the party establishment in that election...
For justice and peace,
Sylvie
McGovern
BY JAMES STEVENSON
The New Yorker, January 1, 1972
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1972/01/01/mcgovern-2?mbid=nl_Sunday%20Longreads%20(38)&CNDID=42301087&spMailingID=8955679&spUserID=MTM0Njk3NDMwNjU3S0&spJobID=922155003&spReportId=OTIyMTU1MDAzS0
Senator George McGovern seems as straight as the road from Faith, South
Dakota, to Mud Butte (Route 212, thirty-eight miles). He appears so plainly
honest, kind, sincere, and good that he makes people feel rotten by
comparison. He has the calm assurance of a veteran pilot (he flew B-24s in
thirty-five missions for the Fifteenth Air Force in the Second World War),
he has intelligence, sensitivity, and commitment, and he has been speaking
out against the war in Vietnam since 1963. Despite his early announcement
that he would run for the Presidency, and a gruelling pre-primary campaign,
he has remained low in the polls (until two weeks ago, when his standing
jumped abruptly), but when I went out and met him at LaGuardia one morning a
couple of weeks ago he was cheerful and hopeful, and he looked fine.
"I’m feeling good," he said as he got off the shuttle from Washington,
wearing a tan raincoat, a dark-blue suit, a white shirt with broad blue
stripes, a red-and-blue striped tie, and black shoes. His complexion was
ruddy and his hair black (thinning a bit in front), and an aide whispered to
me, "He’s only forty-nine, you know--younger than John Lindsay."
"We’re concentrating on the organizational effort, and we’re out in front of
everyone else in grass-roots organization," said McGovern as his car headed
for Manhattan and a full day of campaigning. "The aspect of politics that
interests me the most--and is the most fun--is the development of ideas and
issues, but I’ve learned that without careful organization you don’t get
very far. I have a lot more confidence now than I had last January, when I
embarked. I’ve really worked Wisconsin, New Hampshire, Florida, California
(extensively), Oregon, New Mexico, and Nebraska--all key primary states. We’ve
got to either carry them or do very well in them. I’ve gone to hundreds of
small, informal meetings--sometimes eight or nine a day--at which I’ll speak
for ten minutes, then field questions. I think there’s no doubt that
economic concerns are on most people’s minds, but what I’m impressed with
particularly is how the war issue lingers on as a source of anxiety and
concern. I think it’s going to be a major factor in ’72. Nixon’s withdrawal
policy has reduced the explosive force of it, but I think that the pattern
he’s followed has not satisfied many. Beyond that, the continued cost of the
war plagues us and feeds the credibility gap. The President has said that we’re
going to remain there with a residual force, continued bombing, and support
of Thieu, and what I fear is that it will trigger a bloody counter-offensive
sometime after the first of the year. It might be in Cambodia or it might
erupt all over Vietnam, as in ’68. The other side seems capable of it; they
watch our domestic political opinion, and they’ll probably try to make the
pain of our involvement more costly. I hope I’m wrong. The full question of
the reliability of our Presidential leadership is going to be important. Is
he telling us the truth? The way the Administration handled the Pentagon
Papers, the quality of the President’s appointments, his leadership on
busing--everything seems designed to exploit fears rather than appeal to the
best qualities of the American people."
The car stopped at Eighth Avenue and 126th Street, and McGovern went into
the Amsterdam News building for a private meeting. When he emerged, half an
hour later, the car headed downtown toward Hunter College, and McGovern
talked about his world tour last September. "One of the things in Vietnam
that startled me most was the extent of the near despair on the part of the
American military forces. If the G.I.s voted on the war, it would be ten to
one on ending it now. The higher the rank, the less talk about it, but
General Abrams listed anti-war sentiment as one of his biggest problems." In
Paris, McGovern said, he met with the opposing Vietnamese delegations to the
peace talks. "I was very impressed with both the Hanoi and the Provisional
revolutionary groups. They removed any doubt I might have had about what we
must do. We have to set a deadline for the removal of all troops. Once that
is done, release of the prisoners and a cease-fire during withdrawal will
begin immediately."
The auditorium at Hunter College was filling up as McGovern was greeted by
some students backstage, and Becky Hubbard (long blond hair, black-and-brown
striped bell-bottoms), the head of the Hunter Committee for McGovern, was
standing near the rostrum, watching the crowd. I asked her how the campaign
was going. "It’s developing," she said. "At least, there’s no stronger
interest here in any other candidate. There are four reasons the students
like him: first, he seems to be an honest person, not giving out any
garbage-- Excuse me, we’ve got to sit down." McGovern was coming out onto
the stage, and there was fairly enthusiastic applause.
McGovern spoke about Nixon’s "broken pledge to bring the country together"
("The pledge has turned into a formula for keeping us apart"), the Supreme
Court nominations, unemployment, and Nixon’s "secret plan to end the war"
("Since then, another eighteen thousand young men have died.... Instead of
moving out, we moved into Laos and Cambodia"). Later, he said, "As we meet
here, bombs are falling," and he spoke of the defenseless victims of our
raids, his voice rising as he declared, "To me, that is a moral outrage that
should stir the conscience of every American." There was prolonged applause
from the students. He talked briefly about his experiences during the Second
World War, saying that most of the men he trained with and flew with did not
come back. "I made a pledge that if I survived I would devote the rest of my
life as best I could to the cause of peace." He spoke of poverty and hunger
in the United States, and concluded, "I ask for your help and support...
committed to fundamental change and to peace. I need your help to that end.
Thank you."
There was sustained applause, then a question-and-answer period.
On Ireland: "The British forces have overreacted [applause]... but I feel as
an American that we’re on shaky ground lecturing others about overreacting."
(Applause)
"How would you distribute foreign aid?" asked a student.
"I would begin by terminating military aid to all dictatorships." (Applause)
He spoke of environmental problems, urged tougher standards on air and
water, the need for population control--"the kind of commitment we have
heretofore brought to military operations."
McGovern then said that the press wanted to ask some questions now, and the
students hissed, but he went ahead.
On Lindsay: "If I had to bet, I would bet he would not be a candidate."
(Applause)
On the polls: "I would like to be higher on the polls, but we’re going into
New Hampshire--and that’s the first poll that counts."
On amnesty for draft-resisters: "If I were President, my first act would be
to terminate the war, and the second would be to declare a general amnesty.
[Long applause] The precedent is one hundred years old, set by Abraham
Lincoln at the time of the Civil War."
Afterward, the students gathered onstage to ask more questions, and an aide
told me, "After a thing like this, we get about two hundred names of people
who want to work for him. That’s what counts."
McGovern got into his car to drive to the National Broadcasting Company, and
I followed in another, sharing a ride with a Hunter junior named Victoria
Amato--a redhead from Brooklyn, who was wearing a purple dress. I asked her
if she was working for McGovern.
"Oh, no," she said. "I won the ‘Day with McGovern’ raffle. I bought a ticket
as a favor for a girl friend of mine. Twenty-five cents. When they told me I
won, I said, ‘You’re kidding!’ " She paused. "It certainly is an unusual
prize," she added uncertainly. "I had to cut Spanish, two education classes,
and an economics class."
I asked her if she supported McGovern.
"I really can’t say yet. I don’t know much about the other candidates. I
liked his ideas, but some of the things seemed too goody-goody to believe.
If it’s so easy, why doesn’t Nixon just pull out?"
At N.B.C., McGovern went to a private lunch with some news executives, then
over to WCBS-TV to tape a show called "Woman!" Three women panelists and a
woman moderator asked him questions about the state abortion law ("I
generally favor that"), and about women delegates to the Democratic National
Convention ("Any delegation that falls very short of the fifty-fifty split
between women and men ought to be challenged and I’d be willing to help
bring such a challenge"), and attacked him about the small number of women
on his staff. "I have only ten top people on my Senate staff, and four are
women," he said. "You can’t hit fifty-fifty all the time, but I think we’ve
made a real effort."
One of the panelists started talking about "the masculine mystique and the
cult of toughness in the making of foreign policy," saying, "These
factors... have something to do with our desire for a woman President."
"I think that’s kind of a phony argument, frankly," said McGovern. "I’ve
known some awfully aggressive women. Some of the bloodiest wars in history
have been directed by female rulers."
On the way out of C.B.S., I saw Victoria again. "It’s a very interesting day
so far," she said. In the car going uptown, McGovern said he’d ridden with
Barry Goldwater on the Senate subway the day before. "He said, ‘Win or lose,
you get to learn a lot about the country,’ "
By six o’clock, McGovern was in the midst of a well-dressed
gathering--cocktails--sponsored by the Business and Professional Men and
Women for McGovern in an apartment on the twenty-seventh floor of the
Carlyle Hotel. There was an air of affluence, and the lights of Central
Park, framed by a large window, looked like another expensive painting on
the walls. McGovern spoke briefly. "Some people say I’m too decent to be
President." The guests laughed. "But I’ve got members of my staff working on
a list of my inadequacies." He outlined his views and answered questions,
and twenty minutes later he was standing on the sidewalk on Seventy-sixth
Street exchanging a few words with Stewart Mott, the philanthropist, who was
wearing a white flower in his buttonhole. Then he jumped into his car and
headed for a second fund-raising party--this one at the home of Dr. Howard
Eder, in Riverdale.
The house was a large one, set on a knoll in a wooded, Scarsdale-like
residential area. McGovern rapidly climbed the steps to the house, with
Victoria trotting along not far behind. "I’m glad I’m not a politician, she
remarked to me. "He hasn’t got a minute!" The gathering was a cheerful,
comfortable, neighborhood kind of affair, and Dr. Eder, a middle-aged man,
stood in front of his fireplace benignly smoking a pipe as Bronx Borough
President Robert Abrams, who had endorsed McGovern back in August,
introduced Assemblyman G. Oliver Koppell, who gave an eloquent endorsement
on the spot and introduced McGovern. The Senator spoke briefly--he was at
his very best in the crowded living room, his concern and sincerity readily
apparent, no gulf between him and his listeners--and then, after some
questions and answers, hurried down the steps to his car, heading for the
annual dinner of the Ben Franklin Democratic Club--a Bronx Reform Democratic
group--being held at Mayer’s Parkway Restaurant, on 233rd Street.
There were perhaps four hundred guests in the dining room, and between
courses McGovern went around the tables and shook hands with every person in
the room. Abrams led the way, grinning (he has the best smile I’ve ever seen
in politics) and kidding the guests. "She works for the Mayor, but in about
two weeks she’s coming out for you!" he said, introducing a woman. The woman
squealed cheerfully. "I got news for you!" she told Abrams, and then Koppell
took over, easily unreeling name after name as McGovern shook hands. "...
wife of our district leader.... And here is Sally Klein, who works with
me--she’s very helpful.... Here’s another president of one of our reform
clubs. We want to get him on the bandwagon.... This is one of the strongest
peace activists in the area.... And this is my mother." Mrs. Koppell smiled.
After dinner, the chairman rose, and there ensued a classic political-dinner
endurance contest as various guests were introduced, complimented, and
permitted to say a few words. Congressman Jonathan Bingham told a couple of
mildies, State Senator Abraham Bernstein spoke, State Senator Harrison
Goldin said, "One is tempted to be wistful and reminiscent."
"Oh, no!" whispered an aide at my table. "There isn’t time to be
reminiscent. We’ve got to catch a plane."
Assemblymen gave way to district leaders, district leaders gave way to local
presidents, local presidents singled out helpful workers. The compliments
and gratitude fell like snowflakes. McGovern sat patient and smiling. When
he finally got a chance to speak, he said, "I notice there’s a small card on
the rostrum here that says the Senator is on a very tight schedule, so
please be brief in your remarks." The audience laughed, and McGovern added,
"I notice it was left here for me." He talked about Nixon, the Southern
strategy, the Supreme Court, unemployment, the end of the draft, and
education. "The President has twice vetoed education bills on the ground
that they were inflationary. He calls one billion dollars for education
inflationary--but fifty billion for the ABM is not inflationary.... His
solution to crime was to fire Ramsey Clark. We have rising crime and
increased drug traffic...." When he finished, the audience stood up and gave
him a long ovation, and McGovern slowly made his way out, greeting people,
answering questions. In the lobby, he stood still for an interview by an
Italian film crew, then finally made it to his car. On the way to the
airport, there was a foggy drizzle. It was near midnight, and
everybody--except McGovern--was exhausted. McGovern displayed his first sign
of self-indulgence at this point: he asked an aide for a piece of chewing
gum. "After eight days in a row, I get tired," he admitted, chewing. "I took
two days off in Santa Fe at Thanksgiving, and we went skiing there. I’d
never skied before, and it took my mind off everything. It was really fun! I
think I’m going to take it up. I like to play tennis, and in Washington I
try to work out in the Senate gym every afternoon for forty-five minutes."
LaGuardia Airport was desolate and wet. McGovern went looking for a
milk-dispensing machine in the waiting room, and I asked Victoria, who was
still along, whether she had been converted to McGovern yet.
"Practically," she said, smiling. "Yes."
