A Senate Journal 1943-1945, page 59
June 14, 1945. Walter George, confident he has the votes, predicted today that the extra tariff-reducing authority will be put back in the reciprocal trade bill when the Senate votes. This event is now delayed until Monday by the return of a number of travelers, some of whom want to speak on the subject. Burt Wheeler, George said with a chuckle, “is coming in here loaded for bear.” Then too, he added drily, “Senator Langer says he is going to speak, and he is sometimes apt to be a little lengthy.” But he has the votes, George thinks. He is not making predictions yet on O’Mahoney’s amendment to require Congressional review.
June 15, 1945. Wheeler, annoyed with the Russians and full of dark tales he will undoubtedly make use of when the time comes, met the press today upon his return from Europe. Pacing up and down, he gave his opinion on the treaty schedule: he objects to it. It seems to him, he said, that the Charter might very well wait until the peace settlements have been made and the country knows what its sacrifices have been used to underwrite. This argument will probably be one of the main weapons in his arsenal when the fight begins, and like most of the others he will use, it is perfectly sound and perfectly rational and thereby doubly destructive to the opposition.
Homer Capehart of Indiana, who made the grand tour with the shrewd Montanan, echoed his sentiments faithfully. Let’s wait until the peace treaties have been signed, Capehart urged: let’s find out what we’re getting. That always seemed like good business to him, said the man who made those handsome radios. Let’s don’t take a pig in a poke. Elsewhere in the Senate, in a reaction from the burst of optimism several days ago, members are beginning to sober down and realize that after all it just isn’t possible to get the Charter through in anything like the three weeks originally proposed. It will be a longer fight, and a tougher one, than that.
June 16, 1945. Homer Ferguson, back from Europe, was reasonably optimistic about the chances for cooperation with Russia when we went in to see him today. He emphasized, however, that it was a hard task to create democracy in Europe. It takes education, he said, it takes time, “and above all it takes the courts, you know? The courts are the heart of it, really—the assurance that every man will have a fair trial under a law which is universal and recognized by all. That’s what we have—oh” (quickly), “I know there are many exceptions, but on the whole that’s how it is with us right down to the traffic courts. It’s the indispensable basis.… There are many difficulties with Russia, and I heard a lot about how impossible it will be for us to get along with her—mostly from our military men over there. But I think we can do it. I think these things will straighten themselves out.” On another topic, the charges of graft and incompetence leveled at the Army Engineers by quiet Robertson of Wyoming for their activities along the Alcan Highway and the Pan-American Highway, he said the Mead Committee is making a preliminary investigation. He showed his customary undaunted willingness to go after the services again, in the old, old battle the committee has had to fight for so long.
June 18, 1945. Coming down the aisle of the House flanked by a joint Senate-House committee and welcomed by a roaring Congress, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, Supreme Commander of the Allied forces in Europe, looked nervous and embarrassed and rather like the high school valedictorian just prior to his speech today. Everyone but the President was on hand to greet him (tactfully he stayed away, this being Eisenhower’s day): the Congress, the Cabinet (four of its Roosevelt-appointed members appearing for the last time), Marshall, King, Leahy, and the rest. He gave his amiable, friendly grin, put on his glasses, gripped the lectern firmly and began to speak in the voice of Kansas, flat, honest, forthright. His words were conventional and stereotyped, an inevitable consequence of the situation and his position; he delivered them rapidly. Something about the event bore a strong resemblance to the last joint session, when another honest and likable man spoke to the Congress and the country. With both, the fact that the words are conventional does not seem nearly so important as the fact that the words are sincere and earnest and full of common sense. “The American people don’t need brilliance,” said Carl Hatch once. It is brilliance they have in Truman and Eisenhower, but it is the brilliance of the common denominator, candidly expressed.
Over across the Plaza the Court wound up its season with a flurry of decisions, entailing the hardworking activity of a good portion of the press. Associated Press, they ruled, is a monopoly; Harry Bridges, they ruled, is not a Communist and may remain in the country. (His lawyers, a tall girl in green and three or four husky young gentlemen, put through a call to him in the phone booths just off the press alcove. “He says he’s breaking out the champagne,” the girl reported, and everybody laughed, jubilant.) Having thus cleared the docket and called each other a few more names—the reasoning in the AP case, Roberts remarked acidly, was “nothing added to nothing,” Stone, Roberts and Frankfurter were terse and sharp in their dissent on Bridges—the gentlemen of the Law bade one another farewell and scattered till October, Douglas to his beloved Oregon mountains, Bob Jackson to Europe for the war-criminal trials, the others to their various relaxing-places.
June 19, 1945. Up from the White House today came a candid message on a subject a lot of people have been worrying back and forth in private—the succession to the Presidency. In the event of “my death or inability to act,” he said, the Secretary of State would succeed under present law; the President, be he former Vice-President elevated by death, virtually has the right to name his own successor. In a democracy, this is a power the Chief Executive should not have. (“As a matter of fact,” remarked one Democratic Senator later in the wave of annoyance that greeted the message, “the President always selects the Vice-President and we all know it.”) Accordingly, he would suggest that Congress immediately enact legislation to provide that the succession go to the Speaker of the House and then to the President pro tem of the Senate, and thereafter to the Cabinet as under present law. He then departed by plane for the West Coast, emphasizing his remarks. In a couple of weeks both he and Stettinius will be gone overseas to Potsdam, emphasizing them further. The reaction on the Hill was interesting to watch.
Over in the House Joe Martin, heir-apparent to the Speakership if the Republicans gain control, was all for it. In the Senate, Styles Bridges promptly introduced a bill. During the reading of the message the House broke into applause. The Senate listened with a skeptical air. On the record comments were cautiously polite, off the record Democrats were acrid. In the first place, this was all the President’s idea, he didn’t consult with anybody before he sent it. In the second place, it was all so unnecessary. Presidents name their own Vice-Presidents, anyway—the country has managed nicely so far with the Secretary of State next in line after the V.P.—and besides the House might go Republican next year, and if that happened there could be a Republican President. The House was generally pleased, but not the Senate. Some very important Democrats were quite put out. “Why in hell did he have to go and stir this up?” one of them demanded. The succession message marked the first real trace of annoyance with Truman on the Democratic side of the aisle.
By the comfortable margin of 14 votes, 47–33, the Senate today put back in the reciprocal-trade bill the 50-per-cent tariff-reducing authority requested by the President. George had the votes once more, beyond even his most optimistic hopes. He seems to be in very good shape on the O’Mahoney amendment, too, which comes up tomorrow.
Once more Tobey furnished a laugh. Taft, arguing forcefully in a lost cause, maintained flatly that while there had been talk of lobbying, “I really think there’s been less lobbying on this bill than on any other I can remember.” “Will the Senator yield?” Tobey cried, jumping up and coming toward him eagerly. “Will the Senator yield right there?” “I can’t yield,” said Taft shortly. “My time is limited.” “You’re going to miss something good,” Tobey assured him. “I prefer to miss it!” snapped Taft.
June 20, 1945. After a powerful argument in which his angry voice thundered all through the hallways and echoed back and forth majestically in the chamber, Walter George marshaled his votes and swamped the O’Mahoney amendment today 49–27. The Wyoming Senator argued powerfully himself, but it wasn’t good enough. Again George had the votes. O’Mahoney’s argument, he declared, was “supremely fantastic.” Down to defeat went able Joe’s contention that the Congress was taking steps toward executive government in its surrender of the tariff-making power. (“If you say we have not time, and are incapable of doing it,” he cried bitterly the other day, “then have the courage to vote the appropriations to see to it that we are adequately and efficiently staffed and can do it!”) Whatever the merit of his argument, it was lost in George’s show of overwhelming moral indignation. On quick roll calls thereafter the Senate beat down a series of minor amendments and late in the afternoon passed the bill 54–21.
Ball, Burton and Hatch today introduced a bill that will probably become one of the most controversial before the Senate—a comprehensive overhaul of the labor-relations laws to set up a five-man board to handle conciliation and mediation and a three-man board to handle complaints of unfair labor practices. It also makes arbitration compulsory in public-utility strikes and requires unions holding closed-shop contracts to maintain certain democratic methods. The three Senators told us that the bill represents 18 months of study by “labor relations experts” headed by Donald Richberg, former head of the National Recovery Administration. His co-workers, drawn heavily from industry, prompted Wayne Morse to attack the bill as “industry-slanted.” He praised it as a starting point for discussion, however, and that may ultimately be its principal value. As for Lister Hill, the missing member of the Ball-Burton-Hatch-Hill (“B2H2”) idealists who stormed the citadel of isolation a year and a half ago with their peace resolution, he is playing it very close to the belt. “We’ve kept him fully informed of what we’re doing,” Hatch told us. “We’re counting very heavily on his help as a member of the Education and Labor Committee. We’re counting on him very heavily.” Lister Hill, when we talked to him later, did not seem to be one too willing to bear the burden of this heavy dependence. “I didn’t join in the sponsorship of it,” he said, with a blank look and momentarily at a loss for further comment. Then his face brightened. “You can say that as a member of the Education and Labor Committee I will give it my every consideration. Yes, sir, old boy, my every consideration, that’s what I’ll do. As a member of the Education and Labor Committee, old man, I’ll give it my every consideration, my every consideration.”
Appropriations Committee, preparing a couple of good fights that will consume a little time between now and June 30, the end of the fiscal year, reported out the War Agencies bill with a boost for the Office of War Information that brings it pretty close to the budget estimate trimmed so drastically by the House. It also authorized Dennis Chavez to introduce an amendment from the floor giving the FEPC upwards of half a million. This last was somewhat in the nature of doubletalk, since under the rules his amendment will take a two-thirds vote even to bring it up, and the Southerners are already wheeling up their big guns and preparing for battle. Unless he gets his two-thirds or works out a compromise, the agency will be terminated.
So Far as I Am Concerned
June 22, 1945. The Presidential succession bill was taken up by the Privileges and Elections Committee today. Afterward Theodore Francis Green told the press that “certain constitutional questions” had come up. He did not enlighten us on what they were, nor did he indicate any great urge for speed on the part of the majority. The Truman suggestions, based as they are upon what he conceives to be best for the country, are apparently going to be sacrificed to what his colleagues conceive to be best for the party. This can hardly surprise him, the practical politician, so very much13.
June 23, 1945. Out in San Francisco, Vandenberg has thrown a certain amount of cold water on plans to hurry the Charter through. He doubts if hearings can begin for at least two weeks after the conference ends, he says, because Foreign Relations will want to wait until it has the full print of the deliberations before it. He predicts a good eight weeks of consideration, and inclines to the view that an opportunity for full discussion should be accorded every Senator. This last goes without saying in the nature of the Senate, but it is just as well to have it on the record. Meanwhile, first polls show a sizable majority for it, and Connally’s confident prediction that it will be overwhelmingly ratified may be amply justified by events. Burt Wheeler, “loaded for bear,” has not been heard from, however, and until he is predictions are idle. A master of in-fighting and delay, his strategy has yet to be divulged. The picture will shape up a little better after it is.
June 24, 1945. Bilbo and his cohorts are talking filibuster on the FEPC appropriation. “I’ll fight it from now till Christmas,” Mississippi’s mighty mite assured us yesterday. “Will there be a filibuster, Senator?” we asked. “We don’t have filibusters,” he explained elaborately, “just extended explanations.” “Will you engage in an extended explanation?” “Well”—with a cackle—“I’m full of my subject.”
As a matter of fact, the Senate as usual is getting right up against the June 30 deadline on the appropriations bills, and the Southerners may be able to get what they want with a minimum expenditure of breath. War Agencies, which carries the Office of War Information fight in addition to the Fair Employment Practices Commission, is pending. The War Department appropriation hasn’t even passed the House yet. The Labor-Federal Security appropriation is just out of committee. With five days to June 30, “extended explanations” could kill FEPC completely. The temporary agency, Bilbo said, “is just as bad as the permanent measure. It’s just throwing away the people’s money on a damnfool project.”
James Scrugham of Nevada has died in San Diego after a long illness. A short man with a bald head and an impassive expression, he has only been in the Senate once since 1943. That occasion was the State Department fight. They helped him in and they helped him out, and when it came time to vote he got unanimous consent to remain seated. The balance will be unchanged politically; a Democrat will succeed.
June 25, 1945. John McClellan, discussing the Charter thoughtfully, said optimistically this morning (as so many do) that it will “sail through without any trouble.” He said it should be discussed and considered, but anticipates little opposition. On the FEPC appropriation he said he knows of “no organized effort” to oppose it. His eyes darkened, he looked off into space thoughtfully for a moment, and when he spoke it was with an air of uneasy restlessness. “I wish they’d leave us alone,” he said.
Banking and Currency, heading into the home stretch on the Bretton Woods hearings, entertained one of its most industrious and familiar witnesses today, W. Randolph Burgess, president of the American Bankers Association. A tall man with an open, ingenuous face, an honest expression, and an eager, placating smile, he does a very smooth job of testifying in a hesitant, earnest, thoughtful way. This does not impress the committee, which knows him of old. Some members, in fact, regard him as though they were regarding a very capable puff-adder, responding only grudgingly to his diligent charm. Murdock in particular looks severe, and other Democrats are almost as cool. Taft, bitterly opposed to Bretton Woods and always cordial to the ABA, seemed nonplused this morning to find Burgess reversing his position before the House committee to endorse the international monetary fund. Over there he opposed it, but, he admitted candidly today, “It is no longer a question of ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ These hearings and the trend of public opinion indicate that people are in favor of international monetary cooperation. It is a matter of amendment now, to make the fund work more efficiently.” He remarked gently that there did seem to be “an almost pathological urge” toward world cooperation (something on which Sheridan Downey challenged him sharply. He laughed amiably, qualified somewhat, admitted the word might have been ill-chosen, but conveyed the impression that he still thought it was the right one). People, he said, seemed to be “sold on hopeful preambles.” However, he would not stand in the way. “You no longer recommend elimination of the fund?” Barkley asked. He laughed. “We wouldn’t like to make up your minds for you—” he began. “I want you to make up your minds for yourselves,” Alben assured him. He laughed again. Taft jumped in. “What you mean,” he told Burgess bluntly, “is that you think the operation of the fund should be postponed, but you’re bowing to the pressure of the inevitable.” Burgess laughed again. “Well, not exactly,” he said. “We think the fund should be safeguarded.” He laughed again, very amiably. Murdock looked stern.
June 26, 1945. After 26 years of popular worry over “what the Senate will do” to another world-cooperation treaty, the whole thing fizzled out today as Burton K. Wheeler told me:
“So far as I am concerned, there is going to be no organized fight against the treaty.”
This was bulletin-matter. sen. wheeler gives green light to treaty, said the Washington Daily News, and so, in effect, he did. He did it without much fanfare, to the accompaniment of a black, bleak, off-the-record picture of what is going on in Europe. He did it reserving his right to speak against it if he chose, and with some acid comments on the Administration’s strategy. But he did it. That was the news.
