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86 9 GO GET MY LONG RIFLE As much as he wanted it, Johnson stood little chance of winning the Democratic presidential nomination in . His southern roots and his reputation as a conservative made his candidacy almost impossible. It mattered not that he was responsible for passing two civil rights bills, the first such legislative feats in the twentieth century. Many influential liberals did not trust him. Their memories of his fealty to Russell’s southern bloc were too powerful, and a couple of incremental voting rights bills could not capture their hearts. By making his Senate leadership a central part of his campaign, Johnson only highlighted his reputation as a ruthless dealmaker whose passion was the art of compromise. When Johnson did venture out from Washington , his unpolished and earthy speaking manner often failed to inspire audiences, especially when compared with the refined, urbane demeanors of senators John F. Kennedy of Massachusetts and Stuart Symington of Missouri or the effusive eloquence of Humphrey. Explained Howard Shuman : “He knew Senate politics instinctively, but he didn’t understand national politics, and he wasn’t really attuned to national issues because of his focus on the Senate.” A significant part of Johnson’s problem with Democratic liberals—a key constituency—then-Minnesota governor Orville Freeman later concluded, was that he “had simply no time for the people who wanted to talk a good game but never get anything done. He really held them in great repugnance . . . And so, sometimes he would . . . fail to communicate with them even when he had really a very excellent liberal record.” Freeman, who later wasagriculturesecretaryunderpresidentsKennedyandJohnson,admitted that he was among those who had believed that Johnson was too conservative . While traveling to the Democratic convention in Los Angeles, however , he began reviewing Johnson’s voting record, and he was “astounded” to learn that Johnson was far more liberal than he had imagined. 87 GO GET MY LONG RIFLE By contrast, John F. Kennedy, forty-two, was a charismatic second-term senator who had almost been chosen as Adlai Stevenson’s running mate in . Although some branded him a liberal, he was actually a moderate. Mindful of potential southern delegates, he had displeased dogmatic liberals by his refusal to condemn Senator Joseph McCarthy’s reckless pursuit of communists in the federal government in the early s. On civil rights, despite his otherwise impressive voting record, some liberals still bitterly remembered his vote to send the  bill to the Judiciary Committee and his support for the jury trial amendment. Liberals also may have been aware that Kennedy counted among his southern supporters men such as John Stennis and Herman Talmadge. Many liberals not only opposed Johnson for president but despaired at the thought that Kennedy might choose him as his running mate. One ADA leader, Robert Nathan, recalled that members of his organization opposed Johnson because he “was not ‘all out,’ that he was attempting to compromise and take what he could get, so to speak.” Johnson would probably have agreed with Nathan’s characterization, and that was the problem. The liberals did not want a compromiser; they wanted a real liberal . What they could not admit publicly was that Kennedy’s overall record was barely more liberal than Johnson’s. Not long after he arrived in Los Angeles for the Democratic convention , Johnson knew the race was over. At Kennedy’s hands, he learned a hard lesson: His strength in the halls of Congress—his ability to forge compromises and build consensus—was no advantage in the presidential arena. Had his congressional colleagues possessed the power to choose the nominee, Johnson would have won hands down. But they did not have such authority; the more liberal Democratic activists did. In their eyes, Johnson was merely a southern wheeler-dealer and protégé of Richard Russell. Too many influential liberals, black and white, simply doubted his loyalty to their causes, particularly civil rights. Kennedy, meanwhile, enjoyed generous support among blacks and civil rights activists. One advantage was his near-perfect voting record on civil rights during his thirteen years in Congress. From his  House vote for an anti–poll tax bill to supporting stronger amendments to the  Civil Rights Act, Kennedy had been with the liberals on all but two major votes. To bolster his standing among black leaders, Kennedy had enlisted Harris Wofford, a Notre Dame Law School instructor, former staff mem- [3.15.219.217] Project MUSE (2024-04-23 15...

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