Advantages of Obligations
Two days after Beria was arrested in Moscow, Sparkman arrived in Europe for a six-day swing through France, the Netherlands, and the United Kingdom. Scheduled ahead of time, the purpose of this trip was to meet with the NATO military high command in Brussels to discuss an upcoming major military exercise which would involve American forces stationed in Europe. The President would also confer with his French and British allies on the continuing efforts to economically stabilize the pro-West government in Yugoslavia in the wake of her civil war with Communist guerillas. All three countries were keen on supporting Belgrade since Yugoslavia served as NATO’s linchpin in the Balkans. Initially, no one saw the events unfolding in Moscow as a Cold War game changer. The French were preoccupied by turmoil in Algeria (a North African colony that was fighting for its independence) and financial difficulties at home. Therefore, Khrushchev didn’t immediately enter into their calculations. The British were even less impressed by this short and heavyset Soviet leader. Having grown unfazed by Molotov’s tough-guy talk and lack of tough-guy strength, Prime Minister Anthony Eden and others dismissed Khrushchev as a more-animated Molotov. Meeting with the President in London, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs Harold Macmillan succinctly summed up his government’s assessment of Khrushchev:
“How can this fat, vulgar man with his pig eyes and ceaseless flow of talk be the head—the aspirant Tsar for all those millions of people?”
With Khrushchev seemingly irrelevant for the moment, the West could focus on other issues. For Sparkman, a major domestic issue popped up during the summer and fall of 1957: civil rights. As noted on previous occasions, one of the great ironies of the 1950s was that a Deep South President presided over the emergence of the Civil Rights Movement. As a Southern Democrat from Alabama, Sparkman naturally upheld the Jim Crow system in which African-Americans were segregated and oppressed by whites. Upon becoming President in 1954, Sparkman thought he could maintain his segregationist views. Thus, when a few months into his Presidency the Supreme Court ruled 9-0 in Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka that segregated public schools were unconstitutional, he angrily lashed out against the ruling. The resulting public and political backlash taught Sparkman an important lesson: he could never effectively run the country if he allowed hate to dictate his actions. From 1955 on, he maintained a simple policy in regards to civil rights: ignore it. When the refusal of an African-American woman named Rosa Parks to give up her bus seat to a white man triggered the Montgomery Bus Boycott, he ignored it. When fellow Southern Democrats issued the Southern Manifesto opposing racial integration in public places, he ignored that as well. Civil rights were a toxic issue for Sparkman and he simply wanted to avoid it at all cost. However, he would be forced to deal with it in 1957…thanks in part to the work of the junior Senator from New York.
A liberal Republican from the Lower East Side of New York City, Jacob K. Javits was elected to the Senate in 1956. A strong opponent of discrimination, Javits won his Senate race in part by promising to force Congress to
“realize that this is the 1950s, not the 1850s” when it came to race relations. To Javits’ credit, he was smart enough to know that getting Congress to pass a civil rights bill was a tall order. When his Party last controlled the White House (1941-1953) and even Congress (1945-1951), efforts by Presidents Wendell Willkie and Thomas E. Dewey to enact serious civil rights legislation were all filibustered to death by Southern Democrats. If two Presidents couldn’t do it, how could a freshman Senator do any better? Having given it serious thought, Javits believed Willkie and Dewey both made a critical error: they took an outside-in approach (meaning that the initiative started in the executive branch and moved to the legislative branch). Javits’ idea was to do it the other way around: have the initiative start in the legislative branch and move it to the executive branch. Once a civil rights bill had cleared Congress, the Senator believed the President would feel obligated to sign it into law since it had cleared Southern objections. To get the ball rolling, Javits wrote a letter to every member of the Senate (quite an accomplishment, considering there were ninety-five Senators plus himself) urging immediate passage of a civil rights bill. To Democrats, he quoted Hubert Humphrey’s famous demand that his Party
“get out of the shadow of states’ rights and to walk forthrightly into the bright sunshine of human rights.”
To his fellow Republicans, he reminded them of the G.O.P.’s long-standing commitment to civil rights – from ending slavery to abolishing racial segregation in the military. The letter-writing campaign was an audacious move that received mixed reaction. Some Senators thought Javits was insane for proposing such a move while others respected him for being bold and straightforward. One of the latter who did so was the man Javits quoted in his letter to Democrats.
Although modest and simplistic in his lifestyle, the Minnesota Senator was a fiery liberal who wasn’t afraid to stand up to anybody in the name of “human rights”. From his dramatic walkout at the 1948 Democratic National Convention and subsequent third party Presidential run that year (in which he carried six states) to staring down the President of the United States, everyone in D.C. learned not to mess with him. Aggressive and passionate, Humphrey was the leading Democratic voice for civil rights on Capitol Hill. Even his Southerner colleagues came to respect him for his integrity on the issue. Given his impeccable record, it should come as no surprise that Humphrey was among the first to reach across the political aisle to endorse Javits’ call. Not only that, the two men began collaborating on a bipartisan plan to force a civil rights bill through Congress and to the President’s desk. Humphrey was confident it would then be signed into law:
“The President and I have an understanding. He knows that he needs the support of [the Progressive wing of the Democratic Party] in order to be effective. Given our influence and the simple fact that he won last year because we supported him, I do not believe the President will walk away from our understanding by falling back onto his natural instinct.”
In other words, the Deep South President would sign the bill out of obligation towards the Humphrey Democrats. Of course, a civil rights bill had to be written first and Humphrey had an author in mind.
LBJ, the top Democratic leader in the Senate who had played a major role in putting America in space, was nominated by Humphrey to write the civil rights bill. On the surface, he seemed like an unlikely candidate to be a Thomas Jefferson of sorts. Hailing from Texas, Johnson had often times voted against civil rights in order to please his constituents at home. So why pick him? Humphrey explained that he knew Johnson personally and that on the issue of civil rights,
“his voting record does not reflect what is truly in his heart.”
Despite Javits’ skepticism, Humphrey persisted and eventually dragged him along to Johnson’s office. Knowing that the Senate Majority Leader’s ego was as big as his home state, Humphrey went all out in buttering him up. Johnson was reminded of his true feelings on civil rights and that he was one of three Southern Senators who didn’t sign the Southern Manifesto (the other two being the Senators from Tennessee: Albert Gore, Sr. and Estes Kefauver). What better way to follow that up than by authoring a civil rights bill? Being a Southerner would give him the advantage of knowing how to balance Southern and Northern interests. It could be strong enough to placate the North but weak enough to not feel like a Federal threat to the South. As the author, Johnson would be the main beneficiary of a successful bill. He would be seen as the man who bridged the ideological divide and moved the country a baby-step towards living up to her founding principal that “all men are created equal.” Earning this kind of respect would boost Johnson’s reputation heading into 1960 where political doors could be open for him. Humphrey concluded his charm offensive by highlighting LBJ’s famed power of persuasion. His intimate knowledge of the Senate and its inhabitants made him a master of talking them (or in some cases, staring down at them from his imposing height) into voting a certain way.
“Lyndon,” Humphrey exclaimed,
“There is no one who is better qualified at bringing people together than you.”
Having had his ego and vanity massaged, LBJ agreed to write the bill.
“I know Mr. Sam [Rayburn, the top Democrat in the House of Representatives] and I can get this done,” he said. However, before he could do so, he felt it necessary to discuss the matter with the President first. The two men were friends and Johnson felt he would be the best at bringing him along in what would certainly be an uncomfortable situation. Humphrey agreed.
On a June weekend in 1957, LBJ hosted Sparkman at his ranch in Central Texas. While sitting outside the house drinking whiskey, Johnson told the President that he was preparing to write a civil rights bill.
“Lyndon,” Sparkman replied,
“You know how I feel about this thing. I would prefer that you didn’t do this.”
“I do, Mr. President,” Johnson answered,
“However, this is an issue that is growing and can no longer be ignored. Support for the long denial of equal rights of millions of Americans is starting to fade and we have to address it. The country is waking up to the realization that there is no Negro problem, that there is no Southern problem, that there is no Northern problem, that there is only an American problem.”
He acknowledged that civil rights were a very complex and difficult issue, but argued at the same time that the Federal Government had to start taking steps to address the great moral dilemma confronting the country. How could the United States claim to be the land of the free if every American citizen didn’t even have the right to vote?
“The Constitution says that no person shall be kept from voting because of his race or his color. Mr. President, you have sworn an oath before God to support and to defend that Constitution. You therefore must act in obedience to that oath.”
Sparkman winced upon hearing that because it was true and he knew it. Even though he supported the Jim Crow system, holding the office of President meant he had to act against his wishes on this very sensitive issue. After a long discussion that took up an entire afternoon, the President grudgingly gave the Senate Majority Leader the ok. Sparkman made it clear he wouldn’t support the bill publically, but
“I will not veto it either. The feeling of obligation prevents me from contemplating it.”
Afterwards, LBJ wrote the bill. He wrote it carefully and delicately so supporters and opponents alike could vote for it. The civil rights bill had to be more symbolic than substantive; otherwise, it would never pass. Johnson saw it strictly as a baby step forward; more substantive civil right bills could be enacted only when the time was right. The Civil Rights Act of 1957, as it became known as, was designed to give the President options to pursue as he saw fit. If he chose to, he could establish a civil rights division in the Justice Department and create a bipartisan civil rights commission. The framework for both items would be set up by the bill, requiring only the will of the President to turn those words into action. The President’s will was at the core of the Civil Rights Act of 1957: if he didn’t want to follow through, the act wouldn’t compel him to. Johnson wrote the bill in such a way that both sides could look at it and nod their heads in approval. Southerners like Georgia Senator Richard Russell, Jr. liked the bill because Sparkman could sign it into law and then never act on it. This freedom of discretion was also acceptable to Javits, Humphrey, and other supporters of civil rights for two reasons:
- Just because Sparkman wouldn’t act on it didn’t mean the bill would be a waste of time. The framework would still be in place for a future President to implement it.
- Having a civil rights law lay in hibernation was better than having no civil rights law at all.
When Johnson submitted the bill to the Senate for approval, it seemed like a win-win situation. The Javits-Humphrey crowd could claim victory by having a civil rights law while the Russell crowd could also claim victory by having a civil rights law with no teeth. However, one man was not happy with it...at all.
On August 21st, South Carolina Senator Strom Thurmond stood up on the floor of the Senate and began to speak. As an ardent segregationist, he made it clear that he would never allow any civil rights legislation to become law no matter how lame the legislation actually was. What happened next would be the longest filibuster in American history. For the next twenty-five hours, Thurmond spoke and spoke and spoke...and spoke some more. He read anything he could get his hands on, from state elections laws and the Declaration of Independence to George Washington's Farewell Address and even his grandmother’s biscuit recipe. When he droned on into the night, several Senators slept on cots in the hallway outside the Senate chamber. Thurmond’s Southern colleagues meanwhile were angry at him for pulling this attention-grabbing move. Given the weakness of the bill, they had agreed beforehand not to filibuster it. Thurmond’s filibuster therefore gave the impression that even a harmless bill couldn’t get past them. Thurmond’s grand oratory effort ultimately failed however; when he finished speaking, the bill passed the Senate by a large margin. Two weeks later, the House of Representatives also passed it by a comfortable margin. On September 9th, with Senators Javits, Humphrey, and Johnson in attendance, the President signed the Civil Rights Act of 1957 into law.
It was an historic moment that meant everything and nothing at the same time. It meant everything because it demonstrated that Congress could pass a civil rights bill despite the historic opposition from Southern Democrats. It meant nothing because the Civil Rights Act of 1957 was so weak that Sparkman could safely ignore it at will. Given how divisive this issue was, it would have been impossible to have gotten anything stronger passed. It is highly unlikely either Adlai Stevenson (had he lived to serve a second term) nor Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr. (had he won in 1956) could have done any better. The fact that John Sparkman of all people signed a civil rights bill into law gives this moment an unmistakable stench of irony. As it turned out, the ink had barely dried on the document when the next major episode of the Civil Rights Movement flared up. On the same day the Civil Rights Act of 1957 was signed into law, an explosion decimated an elementary school in Nashville, Tennessee. When the city insisted on complying with court-mandated integration of black and white students, segregationists tried to stop them by simply blowing up a school. Fortunately, no one was hurt in the explosion. Meanwhile in Arkansas, nine African-American students were militarily prevented from attending an all-white high school in Little Rock. Very quickly, the eyes of the nation were focused squarely on Little Rock...and the President came to the horrifying conclusion that he might actually have to do something about it.
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By the way, this update's title is based on the great
HOI AAR which inspired The Presidents and her sequel.
