Eisenhower in War and Peace

In a very real sense, Ike was NATO and NATO was Ike. During his first year in Europe, Eisenhower traveled tirelessly from capital to capital assuring his listeners that the United States was their partner but that in the end Europe would have to be defended by Europeans. “We cannot be a modern Rome guarding the far frontiers of empire with our legions,” said Ike.³ When, shortly after announcing the “Truman Doctrine” of aid to Greece and Turkey, President Truman told Eisenhower that he would support any country against Communism, Ike suggested a more subtle shading. “We should promise support to any country prepared to defend itself. We should not embark on a straight anti-Communist campaign around the world. We must encourage independent nations to fight for their independence against aggression.”⁴

Eisenhower officially assumed his duties as supreme Allied commander, Europe (SACEUR), on Monday, April 2, 1951. He and Mamie found temporary lodging in his old quarters at the Trianon Palace Hotel in Versailles, then much more substantial accommodations at the Villa Saint-Pierre—a former residence of the emperor Napoléon III in the village of Marnes-la-Coquette, about ten miles west of Paris. The villa was one of four stately mansions arranged in a palatial parklike setting. General Alfred Gruenther (Ike’s chief of staff) and his wife, Grace, lived in the mansion closest to the Eisenhowers; Major General Howard Snyder, Ike’s doctor, and his wife lived in another; and the fourth was divided for Eisenhower’s longtime aide Colonel Robert Schulz, and his driver, Sergeant Leonard Dry, and their families.

From the outset Eisenhower decided that his headquarters, SHAPE (Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe), which was located at a specially constructed site in the nearby village of Rocquencourt, should be a policy-making body, not an operational command post. Initial staff planning had assumed some 600 officers would be required to operate efficiently, but Ike soon cut the number to 250. Most were American and British, which Eisenhower deplored. He became dependent on other countries for support and most were reluctant at first to assign their best officers to SHAPE. As Ike told Cyrus Sulzberger of The New York Times, assignment to NATO for most officers was a “crown of thorns,” not a “bed of roses.”⁵

There were some familiar faces. Brigadier Sir James Gault of the Scots Guards, his wartime aide, was there once again as an aide. And Field Marshal Montgomery, now Viscount Montgomery of Alamein, fresh from a stint as chief of the imperial general staff (CIGS), was his deputy—an arrangement that pleased both Ike and Monty. As General Gruenther recalled, the two worked together seamlessly and without friction. Montgomery shared Eisenhower’s commitment to NATO, and was highly respected by senior officers throughout the alliance. His proven military skill complemented Ike’s political ability perfectly.

In addition to his NATO duties, Eisenhower kept close watch on the GOP presidential campaign. Whenever asked, he firmly denied any interest in the nomination. That was consistent with his NATO responsibilities, and it was also good politics. “The seeker is never so popular as the sought,” he told Gang member Bill Robinson. “People want what they can’t get.”⁷

General Lucius D. Clay, who was one of Ike’s longtime friends and would play a crucial role in the campaign, thought Eisenhower had mixed emotions about seeking the nomination.

He wasn’t being coy, because he knew that the party wasn’t going to go out and give him the Republican nomination on a platter. Nobody ever gets it that way, and he knew that. Eisenhower was no fool. I think it was more like this: He knew that he had tremendous standing in America, but that if he entered into a political contest he could lose the nomination, in which case his standing would be greatly lowered. Or he could lose the election, in which case it would be lowered even more. Therefore, in a personal sense, what did he have to gain? On the other hand, he really and truly had the feeling that if there was a chance, you just didn’t have the right to say you wouldn’t do it. There was some ambition mixed with this, and there were some other things.^a The fact remains, this was a very simple man in a lot of ways. But there is no question in my mind that he was tremendously influenced by the position which he held in public esteem. This sounds like an oversimplification, but I really think these were the things that played on his mind.⁸

It was New York governor Thomas Dewey who initiated the effort to compel Eisenhower to announce his candidacy. Dewey had endorsed Ike before a national television audience on NBC’s Meet the Press in the autumn of 1950. And as Eisenhower continued to sit on the fence, Dewey fretted that Taft was on the verge of locking up the Republican nomination. Of the 604 delegates required, media reports already credited Taft with more than 400. Equally serious, the key posts at the convention—presiding officer and chairman of the rules, credentials, and platform committees—had gone to Taft supporters. If Ike did not get into the race, Dewey believed that Taft would win by default.⁹

In late September 1951, Dewey invited General Clay to his apartment in the Roosevelt Hotel for dinner. The two had met previously, but were not socially connected. Dewey told Clay that as things now stood Taft was going to be the Republican nominee, and that he could not possibly be elected. The only person who could change that was Eisenhower. Dewey knew that Clay was personally close to Eisenhower, and asked whether he thought Ike would run.¹⁰

Clay said he did not know. It would require a groundswell of popular demand, an effective campaign organization, and adequate financial support. Clay told Dewey that if he could put those together, “I think it would be the right thing for him to do, and I would be prepared to do everything I could to get him to run.” Dewey, who is sometimes described even by his most ardent supporters as “cold as a February iceberg,” had charmed Clay.¹¹ On the spot he became an ardent Republican ready to do his utmost to get Ike to announce his candidacy for the GOP nomination.¹²

The intimate relationship between Eisenhower and Clay dated to 1937, when both had served with MacArthur in Manila. Marjorie Clay and Mamie were the closest of friends and had lived in adjacent apartments at the Wardman Park in the closing year of the war. Clay had been Ike’s deputy for military government in Germany, and was now chairman and CEO of the Continental Can Company in New York. Later he would become the managing partner of Lehman Brothers.^b Eisenhower not only admired Clay’s success in the business world but considered him a walking encyclopedia of American politics. Clay’s father had been a three-term United States senator from Georgia, and Lucius had grown up on a steady diet of Washington politics. During the New Deal, Clay had been the front man for the Corps of Engineers with Congress; levered the Corps into providing the infrastructure for Harry Hopkins and the WPA; headed all military procurement for the Army and air force during World War II; and was the deputy director of war mobilization under James Byrnes. In Germany, Ike had consulted frequently with Clay about his political plans, and while at Columbia had sought Clay’s advice before taking himself out of the New Hampshire primary in 1948.

Clay wrote Eisenhower on September 24, 1951, to inform him of his meeting with Dewey—who was given the code name “Our Friend.” Ike replied on the twenty-seventh, noting that his “attitude toward possible future duty should be clear.” Which, of course, it was not. Eisenhower then suggested that he would like to talk to Clay personally. “You and I think so much alike on so many problems connected with public service … that I think it would do me good just to have a long talk with you one of these days.… My very warm regards to Our Friend and to any others of our common friends that you may encounter.”¹³

Clay was encouraged. Eisenhower had not said no. Clay followed up with a second letter to Ike on September 29. President Truman, said Clay, “will not run if you run. He has made this statement to two separate and reliable persons. He will run if [Taft] does, and in my opinion would beat [Taft] to a frazzle. The result would be four more years of the very bad government we have today, and it could even mean the downfall in this country of the two-party system.” Clay urged Ike to announce his candidacy.¹⁴ ^c

Clay was unable to find an obvious reason for visiting Europe, but in early November the problems involved in getting NATO off the ground forced Eisenhower to come to Washington. On November 5, he met Clay for breakfast in his suite at the Statler. “At that time NATO was his primary concern,” Clay recalled, “and I was very worried that he might say he was not receptive to an invitation to run. We had not yet had time for the movement to really jell.”

Despite Clay’s urging, Eisenhower continued to keep his own counsel. “The sum and substance of our talk,” said Clay, “was that I could say [when I returned to New York] that I had reason to believe that if the movement generated enough public support, that we might have a candidate. It wasn’t a green light, but it wasn’t a red light either. And in my own mind I thought he would run—although he hadn’t said that.”¹⁶

Back in New York, Clay informed Dewey of his conversation with Eisenhower and told him to move ahead. General Clay was like that. If he was not explicitly called off, he would do what he thought best. And Ike had not called him off. On November 10, five days after Clay’s meeting with Eisenhower, Dewey convened a second meeting in his apartment at the Roosevelt Hotel to set up the campaign. He and Clay were joined by Herbert Brownell, Jr., who had managed Dewey’s campaigns in 1940 and 1944; Russell Sprague, the GOP national committeeman from New York; Senator James Duff of Pennsylvania; Harry Darby of Kansas, who was heading a Citizens for Eisenhower movement; Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr., of Massachusetts; and Harold Talbott of Chrysler, who had been the principal fund-raiser for Dewey’s campaigns.

Neither Clay nor Dewey thought it advisable that they be publicly identified as heading the Eisenhower campaign. Having lost twice, Dewey was persona non grata with the conservative wing of the Republican party, and as a former military man Clay recognized that it was best to keep a low profile. Herbert Brownell, perhaps the most logical choice, had been tarred with Dewey’s brush, and was also unacceptable. The upshot was that Clay and Dewey asked Senator Lodge to be the official campaign chairman. “I was there because they needed a front man,” said Lodge. “All of these men knew what to do. Herb Brownell was the planner and thinker. And it was Lucius who called the shots. In those early stages, Clay was the key figure. Except for Lucius, none of us had ever talked to Eisenhower. And Harold Talbott became our fund raiser.”¹⁸

Eisenhower replied on December 19. He told Clay that while he “instinctively agreed” with the points Clay made, his position as the commander of Allied forces in Europe prevented him from taking any action that “would inspire partisan argument in America. To my mind this would be close to disloyalty.”

Ike still refused to commit himself. He told Clay that “Our Friend” [Dewey] wanted him to make a positive statement defining his political status by January 15, 1952. “Even to contemplate such a thing makes me extremely uneasy, although I have in the past admitted to Our Friend that my family ties, my own meager voting record [Ike voted for Dewey in 1948], and my own convictions align me fairly closely with what I call the progressive branch of the Republican party.”²⁰

Eisenhower was walking a tightrope, and the campaign difficulties were mounting daily. Ike wanted greater evidence of a groundswell of public support, but Clay, Dewey, and Brownell needed Eisenhower’s public blessing to cause that groundswell to materialize. Four days before Christmas, Clay wrote again to Ike to explain the problem. In effect, Clay told Ike he could not work both sides of the street.

“Your letter has just come across my desk and it disturbs me so much that I am putting everything else aside to answer immediately,” Eisenhower replied on December 27. Ike tried to reassure Clay of his interest in the campaign, but he still dodged an outright commitment.

To help Clay explain his reluctance to formally announce his candidacy, Eisenhower cited the applicable Army regulation that governed him:

The wish may have been father to the thought, but Clay felt reassured that Eisenhower would run. Ike confirmed as much in a letter two days later to Henry Cabot Lodge, in which he gave Clay the equivalent of carte blanche to act on his behalf. “My confidence in General Clay is such, his accuracy in interpretation is so great, and his personal loyalty to me is so complete, that nothing he could ever say about me could be contrary to his belief as to what I would want him to say.”²³ Princeton political scientist Fred I. Greenstein has written at length about Eisenhower’s indirect but carefully calculated style of political leadership.^e His use of Clay in his 1951–52 quest for the Republican presidential nomination is an early manifestation of that style.

On December 28, Eisenhower received a handwritten letter from President Truman inquiring about his intent.

Truman’s message was clear. If Eisenhower intended to run, he would happily go back to Missouri. But if he did not, then the president would feel compelled to seek reelection against Taft.

Eisenhower replied to the president with a lengthy handwritten letter of his own. “I am deeply touched by the confidence in me you express,” wrote Ike, “even more by that implied in the writing of such a letter by the President of the United States.” Eisenhower said he, too, would like to live a semiretired life with his family. “But just as you have decided that circumstances may not permit you to do exactly as you please, so I’ve found that fervent desire may sometimes have to give way to conviction to duty.” Eisenhower said he would not seek the presidency, but left the door open to accepting a draft.²⁵

In 1952, the New Hampshire primary posed the first test for Eisenhower. Governor Sherman Adams was confident that Ike would carry the state, but to do so he had to be listed on the ballot. That required an affirmation from Eisenhower that he was a Republican, and this he still declined to give. Clay and Dewey were at their wits’ end. On January 4, as the filing deadline approached, Clay authorized Lodge to enter Eisenhower in the Republican primary. Lodge wrote the necessary letter to Governor Adams, stating that Eisenhower had voted Republican and was in sympathy with “enlightened Republican doctrine.”²⁶ Two days later Lodge met the press in Washington and formally threw Ike’s hat into the ring. Eisenhower would accept the Republican nomination if it were offered, said Lodge, and reporters could check with him at his headquarters in France. “I know I will not be repudiated.”²⁷

Lodge assumed that Clay had cleared the announcement with Eisenhower.²⁸ The fact is, Clay forced the issue—just as he had done many times while military governor of Germany.^f Clay simply assumed responsibility and told Lodge to go ahead. If Eisenhower wished to repudiate Lodge he could do so.

Clay telephoned Eisenhower to warn him of Lodge’s announcement. As Clay anticipated, Ike accepted the fait accompli. “Your telephone call saying that some personal comment on the matter would be necessary in order to cinch the sincerity of the statements was acceptable but not enjoyable to me,” he wrote Clay.²⁹ Besieged by reporters at Rocquencourt, Eisenhower issued a formal statement on January 7 that Lodge’s announcement “gives an accurate account of the general tenor of my political convictions and of my voting record.” But Ike’s announcement was qualified. “Under no circumstances will I ask for relief from this assignment in order to seek nomination for political office, and I shall not participate in … preconvention activities.”³⁰

Asked at his next press conference about Eisenhower’s announcement, President Truman was full of praise. With Ike in the race, Truman was confident that Taft would be beaten and he could return to Missouri. “I’m just as fond of General Eisenhower as I can be,” said the president. “I think he is one of the great men produced by World War II [and] I don’t want to stand in his way at all. If he wants to get out and have all the mud and rotten eggs thrown at him, that’s his business.”³¹

The battle lines were drawn. And foreign policy was the decisive issue. On February 7, 1952, former president Herbert Hoover released the names of sixteen prominent Republicans, including Senator Taft, who agreed with him that “American troops [should] be brought home.” In Hoover’s view, the continental United States should become the “Gibraltar of freedom.”³² Eisenhower was appalled. It was, he wrote Clay, “the false doctrine of isolationism.” In the nineteenth century Gibraltar was a truly great stronghold, said Ike. “Today, Gibraltar is one of the weakest military spots in the world. It could be reduced to nothing by a few modern guns posted in the hills and concentrating their fire on it.”³³

As for the campaign, Ike said he was trying to be straightforward and aboveboard. “Consequently, I do not intend to do anything that would, to my mind, be clearly ‘participation’ in a preconvention campaign.” Then he backpedaled. “I certainly hope that I am not stiffnecked and unreasonable in trying to carry interpretations to fantastic lengths,” he told Clay. Eisenhower said he “would never ignore the rank and file of any organization if the setting could be arranged so as to make it logical and natural. If you have any ideas along this line, you might let me know.”³⁴

For Clay, Ike’s message was another green light. Eisenhower’s question was answered the next day when Dewey’s team staged a midnight rally at Madison Square Garden. The Garden was packed with more than thirty thousand eager supporters chanting “We Like Ike” while waving “I Like Ike” banners. The rally lasted until dawn, and was filmed by financier Floyd Odlum and his wife, the famous aviator Jacqueline Cochran. Cochran immediately flew the film to Paris for Eisenhower to see. “I thought it was a lot of damn foolishness,” said Clay, “but it did have a real effect in persuading General Eisenhower to announce. When you are at this stage of the game, it doesn’t take much to tip the balance.”³⁵

Eisenhower and Mamie watched the film with increasing wonder. “As the film went on, Mamie and I were profoundly affected,” said Ike. “It was a moving experience to witness the obvious unanimity of such a huge crowd. The incident impressed me more than had all the arguments presented by the individuals who had been plaguing me with political questions for many months.”³⁶

When the film ended, Jackie Cochran told Eisenhower that he would have to declare his candidacy and return to the United States. “I’m as sure as I am sitting here and looking at you that Taft will get the nomination if you don’t declare yourself.”

The day after viewing Cochran’s film, Eisenhower wrote Clay that for the first time he understood “what it means to be the object of interest to a great section of packed humanity. I told her [Jackie Cochran] that you had said you expected to be over here before the end of the month, and I would not only depend largely on your reasoning, but that you were the real channel through which I learned the opinions of others in the States.”

Eisenhower told Clay he was leaving shortly for the funeral of King George VI in London (the King had died on February 6, 1952) and that he planned to spend the weekend at Brigadier Gault’s country home, just outside the city. “If you really feel there is any great rush about this business, I can see you over there.”³⁸

On February 16, Eisenhower met Clay at the home of Brigadier Gault. Both agreed that an unannounced meeting in the English countryside would attract less media attention than a meeting at Ike’s headquarters. Clay explained the status of the campaign and emphasized how important it was for Ike to make a public commitment to run and return to the United States as soon as possible. Clay told Eisenhower that winning the nomination would be harder than winning the election, that Taft now had 450 of the 604 votes required, and that another 70 were leaning in his direction.

“I pressed General Eisenhower all I could for a definite answer and he still did not want to give one. In fact, he got quite angry with me for insisting.”

“Well,” Clay finally told Ike, “there is nothing more I can do.” And he rose to leave the room and retrieve his coat.

“Wait,” said Eisenhower, and he followed Clay to the cloakroom. “Let’s not leave things on this note.”

In the privacy of the cloakroom at Sir James Gault’s country residence, Eisenhower told Clay that he would run. He agreed to come back to the United States before the Republican convention and to resign his commission at that time. No date was set, but Clay suggested June 1, 1952.³⁹

“When I was a boy, I would go out to the corral in the morning and watch one of the men trying to get a loop over the neck of a horse that he was going to ride for the day,” Eisenhower wrote Clay on March 28. “I was always pulling for the horse but he was always caught—no matter how vigorously he ducked and dodged and snorted and stomped. Little did I think, then, that I would ever be in the position of the horse.”⁴¹

“I am delighted you retain your sense of humor,” Clay replied. “All I can say is that our country needs you. There is no one else.”⁴²

The day after Ike wrote to Clay, President Truman announced his decision not to stand for reelection. Speaking to an overflow gathering of Democrats at the annual Jefferson-Jackson Day Dinner in Washington, Truman departed from the text of his prepared speech to state, “I shall not be a candidate for re-election. I have served my country long, and I think efficiently and honestly. I shall not accept a re-nomination.”⁴³

With Eisenhower still procrastinating about the date of his return, Clay and Dewey devised a stratagem to force his hand. Douglas MacArthur had been selected to give the keynote address to the convention. MacArthur was crisscrossing America, whipping up a rhetorical frenzy over his dismissal by President Truman, and it was possible that in the heat of a deadlocked convention his oratorical skills might propel him forward as a compromise between Eisenhower and Taft. Certainly it was a plausible scenario.

On April 1, Republican voters went to the polls in Illinois, Nebraska, and Wisconsin. It was a landslide for Taft. In Illinois, Taft won 74 percent of the vote and took all 60 delegates. Eisenhower was not on the ballot. In Nebraska, Taft trumped Eisenhower with 79,357 votes to Ike’s 66,078, and took 13 of the Cornhusker State’s 18 delegates. In Wisconsin, where Eisenhower was also not on the ballot, the Taft forces elected 24 of the state’s 30 delegates.

The following day, April 2, 1952, Eisenhower wrote President Truman asking to be relieved as supreme commander, allied powers Europe on June 1. “My request contemplates transfer to inactive status on the date that I can make a final report to the proper officials in Washington. In the event that I should be nominated for high political office, my resignation as an officer of the Army will be instantly submitted to you for your approval.”⁴⁵ Truman replied with a handsome handwritten letter on April 6. “Your resignation makes me rather sad,” said the president. “I hope you will be happy in your new role.”⁴⁶

Eisenhower was sixty-one years old and in excellent health. He continued to put in twelve- to fourteen-hour days, seven days a week, and according to most observers had never looked better. The foundation for NATO had been laid, the foreign ministers of France, Germany, Italy, and the Benelux countries had just signed the treaty creating the European Defense Community (EDC) paving the way for German rearmament, and Field Marshal Alan Brooke, now Viscount Alanbrooke, put wartime disagreements aside to congratulate Ike upon becoming a candidate. “The future security of the world depends on your now assuming this great office during the critical years to come.”⁴⁷

Eisenhower launched his campaign for the Republican nomination in Abilene on June 4. The homecoming was scheduled to allow Ike to attend the dedication of his boyhood home and lay the cornerstone for the Eisenhower museum. Publicity was massive, national television provided live coverage, and the event was to conclude with a dramatic address by Eisenhower to an overflow crowd of thirty thousand supporters jammed into the high school football stadium.

Nothing went as planned. Torrential rains whipped Abilene all afternoon, the stadium was less than half full when Eisenhower spoke, television cameras panned the empty seats relentlessly, and Ike fumbled his lines and lost his place as he read dyspeptically from a prepared text. Buttoned up in a see-through plastic slicker, with a rain hat on his head, Eisenhower looked every inch like a tired old man doing what he did not want to do. When he took his rain hat off, his few strands of hair blew in the wind, making him seem even more lost and forlorn.⁴⁹ The speech was even worse—an amalgam of warmed-over clichés and familiar platitudes about the evils of big government, excessive taxation, and the need for national solvency. It had been cobbled together by Kevin McCann and Ike’s personal staff, and wreaked of the amateurism of political outsiders looking in. “It looks like Ike is pretty much for mother, home, and heaven,” chortled B. Carroll Reece, longtime Republican member of the House of Representatives from eastern Tennessee.⁵⁰

In New York, Dewey, Clay, and Brownell, who were watching the event on television, were appalled. It was evident that Eisenhower was not ready for political prime time. Invited back to New York, Ike spent the week at 60 Morningside Drive refitting and boning up for the fight ahead. For the first time he began to understand that he might lose the nomination to Senator Taft. The Republican convention was little more than five weeks away, Taft was well ahead in the delegate count, and Ike’s Abilene performance had scarcely started a prairie fire, in the words of The New York Times.⁵¹

When the Republican National Convention convened in Chicago on July 6, Taft claimed 525 committed delegates; Eisenhower had roughly 500; California, with 70 delegates, was backing its favorite son, Earl Warren; Minnesota’s 28 votes were behind Stassen; a scattering of delegates were uncommitted, and three states—Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas—sent rival delegations to Chicago, another 70 votes. The credentials committee, which was controlled by the Taft forces, voted to seat the Taft delegations from the contested states, and a floor fight loomed. If the Taft delegates were seated, the senator would be perilously close to the 604 votes required for the nomination.

Under the rules of the Republican party that had been in effect since the convention of 1912—the convention that nominated Taft’s father after ejecting Theodore Roosevelt’s supporters—the delegates from contested states approved by the credentials committee were permitted to vote on the question of the seating of other contested delegations. If this rule were adopted again, the Taft forces would prevail and Ike would be counted out. Herbert Brownell, who was Eisenhower’s chief strategist at the convention, focused his efforts on preventing the contested delegations from voting. Working with Dewey’s team of lawyers, Brownell devised what was called the “Fair Play Amendment” to the rules: No contested delegate could vote on the seating of other delegates until his own credentials had been approved by the convention.

A bitter battle ensued. Eisenhower delegates draped the hall with banners reading thou shalt not steal, while Taft forces poured invective from the rostrum. Senator Everett Dirksen of Illinois, a leading Taft spokesman, peered down from the platform at the New York delegation and shook his finger at Governor Dewey. “We followed you before and you took us down the path to defeat.”⁵³ Pandemonium broke out on the floor as the Republican Old Guard vented its hatred for the New York governor. Dewey sat through it unperturbed, which annoyed Taft’s supporters even more.

When the vote was finally taken—the question before the convention was a Taft motion to exempt members of the Louisiana delegation from the Fair Play Amendment—the Taft forces lost 548–658. California and Minnesota voted against the motion, and the Fair Play Amendment was then adopted by voice vote. The Eisenhower delegation from Louisiana was seated. Another roll call followed on seating the Georgia delegation, and the Eisenhower slate won 607–531. The Eisenhower delegation from Texas was then seated by voice vote without a roll call. Taft had lost all three votes, and the momentum of the convention shifted in Eisenhower’s favor.

The Taft team counted on MacArthur’s keynote to help them regain control of the convention. But MacArthur’s speech fell flat: an overly long jeremiad of accumulated bitterness that put all but the most committed delegates to sleep. MacArthur was followed by Senator Joe McCarthy, who woke the delegates up with his anti-Communist rant. “One Communist in a defense plant is one Communist too many. One Communist among the American advisers at Yalta was one Communist too many. And even if there were only one Communist in the State Department, that would still be one Communist too many.”⁵⁴ McCarthy’s rabble-rousing roused the rabble, but the momentum of the convention did not change.

Ike watched the proceedings on television from his suite at the Blackstone Hotel, joined by Brownell, Clay, and his brother Milton. Governor Sherman Adams managed the Eisenhower forces on the convention floor, and Governor Dewey had his hands full with the New York delegation, eighteen of whom were leaning toward Taft. As the credentials fight climaxed, Eisenhower suffered what Brownell thought was an ileitis attack. “General Clay and I were the only ones outside of Mrs. Eisenhower and Milton who knew about it. The delegates did not know. General Eisenhower was in extreme pain. But he got up and dressed and went out and had a news conference, and then went back to bed. It was one of the greatest performances I ever saw in my life.”⁵⁵ ^g

The balloting for president began at 11 a.m. on Friday, July 11. Five candidates had been nominated—Taft, Eisenhower, Warren, Stassen, and MacArthur. As the roll of the states was called, Brownell and Clay huddled in front of the TV in Eisenhower’s suite while Ike watched from a distance. “Eisenhower was certainly the calmest person in the room,” said Brownell. “I could never understand how he didn’t have some feelings inside of him, but he was either an awfully good actor or else he was awfully calm. Of course, when you’re managing a presidential campaign you can’t let the candidate know how close it may be. It would be very distracting for him to know all the headaches that you are having dealing with the various state delegations.”⁵⁶

Brownell’s strategy was to stay even with Taft on the first ballot, keep a few votes in reserve, and then switch those votes to Eisenhower on the second ballot. Hopefully California and Minnesota would follow suit. But when the clerk called New York and Governor Dewey announced that the Empire State was casting 92 votes for Eisenhower and only 4 for Taft, everything changed. Brownell and Clay had assumed that Taft would get 18 votes in New York. Dewey had twisted arms and threatened excommunication to any New York delegate who voted for Taft, and succeeded in delivering an almost unanimous delegation for Ike. “If you think Taft has a steamroller,” Dewey told the waverers, “wait until you see my steamroller operate.”⁵⁷

As soon as Speaker Martin announced the result, Eisenhower decided to call on Senator Taft as a matter of courtesy. Taft was ensconced with his entourage in the Hilton, just across the street from the Blackstone. Ike’s decision was unprecedented, and he phoned Taft to ask his permission. The senator was taken by surprise but immediately agreed. “Senator Taft could not have been more gracious,” Clay remembered. “Around the Taft camp there was an air of tremendous disappointment, even some bitterness. But not between Taft and Eisenhower.”⁵⁹

With Clay and Brownell in tow, Eisenhower fought his way through a crush of reporters and spectators to Taft’s ninth-floor suite in the Hilton. “I’m quite sure that it took ten minutes to get across the street,” Eisenhower recalled. There was no police escort because the visit was decided at the last minute, and in 1952 presidential candidates did not have Secret Service protection.

When Eisenhower arrived, Taft asked if his sons could be present, and then spoke gently to Ike, who appeared highly agitated in the excitement of victory. After a minute or so of small talk, Taft ushered Eisenhower outside to face the newsmen. “You’ll get used to it,” he confided.

That evening over a celebratory dinner in Ike’s suite, Brownell and Clay reminded Eisenhower that the convention would select the vice presidential nominee the next day. Had Eisenhower considered whom he wanted as a running mate? asked Brownell.

“Well, I thought that was up to the convention,” said Eisenhower. “I didn’t realize that that was for me to decide.”

Clay and Brownell exchanged glances but concealed their surprise. After digesting Ike’s comment, Brownell responded with perfect pitch: “Yes, sir, General, that is true insofar as the balloting is concerned. But I am sure that the delegates will look to you exclusively for guidance.”⁶¹ According to Brownell, Eisenhower thought about it and appeared satisfied.

“So I said that if he would give us his choice, I would convey it to the key leaders of the party. We would see that the selection was done smoothly at the Convention.

“So General Eisenhower went over a list of people. He mentioned the people he had confidence in, mostly business people—the president of General Electric [Charles Wilson], the president of American Airlines [C. R. Smith]—that sort of thing. People who General Eisenhower believed had great executive ability.”

For old political pros such as Clay and Brownell, it seemed like a visit with Alice in Wonderland. Finally Brownell interrupted. “General, these are all fine men, and I am sure they would make excellent vice presidents, but we really need a name that would be recognizable to the average delegate on the floor—someone they can relate to.”

Eisenhower nodded and Brownell continued, suggesting the principles they should consider.

In view of his [Eisenhower’s] age, we wanted a young man. We hopefully wanted someone from the West, someone with political experience to balance the ticket. I went over the necessary qualifications for a vice president. I said that General Clay, and Governor Dewey and I had talked it over and that, unless he expressed a preference otherwise, we would recommend Senator Nixon of California to him.

General Eisenhower thought it over for a moment, said he had met Senator Nixon, and that he would be guided by our advice. He told us to clear Nixon’s name with the other leaders of the party. And that was it.⁶²

Lodge reported the encounter to Clay, and at Clay’s suggestion Dewey invited Nixon to be the principal speaker at the annual GOP fund-raising dinner in New York on May 8, 1952. Nixon gave a boffo performance and stressed that the GOP must nominate a candidate who would appeal to Democrats and independents. Dewey invited him up to his suite for a nightcap. Clay and Brownell were there as well. When Dewey suggested the vice presidency on an Eisenhower ticket, Nixon said he would be honored to accept. “Make me a promise,” Dewey replied. “Don’t get fat, don’t lose your zeal, and you can be president some day.”⁶⁴

“There is no question that Nixon was the man we wanted,” said Clay. “He had a fine name among most Republicans as a result of the disclosures in the Alger Hiss–Whittaker Chambers case. He was young, vigorous, and appealing. I was very much for him”⁶⁵

On June 12, 1952, Nixon was nominated by acclamation. Ike and Mamie headed west for a precampaign vacation, and Eisenhower resigned his commission as General of the Army. Forty-one years and one month after taking the oath as a cadet at West Point, Eisenhower severed his connection with the United States Army.

^a Clay’s reference to “some other things” pertains to Ike’s fears of the viciousness of a presidential campaign. Rumors of his romance with Kay Summersby had already surfaced, and he was aware that his 1945 letter to Marshall might somehow be leaked to the press. He was also concerned that rumors of Mamie’s alleged drinking problem might become an issue.

^b I once asked General Clay if it wasn’t unusual for an Army officer to head a major American investment bank. “Well,” he replied, “I don’t know of anyone else on Wall Street who ever conducted a major currency reform. Or for that matter who established a government”—a reference to the introduction of the deutsche mark in 1948 and the formation of the Federal Republic of Germany in 1949. Jean Edward Smith, Lucius D. Clay 13.

^c Beginning with his letter of September 29, 1951, Clay’s letters to Eisenhower, as well as Ike’s replies, would be hand-carried by TWA pilots on the Paris–New York route. Subsequent cable messages from Clay to Eisenhower would be addressed to Colonel Robert Schulz, Ike’s aide, and signed “Shelley,” for Edna Shelley, Clay’s secretary at Continental Can. Similarly, Ike’s cables to Clay would be addressed to Shelley and signed “Schulz.” Smith, Lucius D. Clay 589.

^d Only thirteen states held presidential primaries in 1952. The others chose their delegates in party conventions.

^e Fred I. Greenstein, The Hidden-Hand Presidency: Eisenhower as Leader (New York: Basis Books, 1982).

^f The Berlin airlift, for example, was undertaken by Clay on his own authority. “I never asked permission or approval to begin the airlift,” said Clay. “I asked permission to go in on the ground [which was refused], because if we were stopped we’d have to start shooting. I did not ask permission for the airlift.” Smith, Lucius D. Clay 502–3.

^g General Clay did not think Eisenhower’s attack was as serious as Brownell suggested. “I’d known General Eisenhower for a long time,” said Clay, “and he had some very bad eating habits. Maybe it was a forerunner of the ileitis attack, but I doubt it. Obviously, his nerves were at a very high tension. I think it was just a stomach cramp. That’s par for that type and kind of situation.” Jean Edward Smith, Lucius D. Clay 598.

^h In contrast to Eisenhower, Clay and Brownell were worried sick when the balloting concluded. “We got down to Wisconsin on the roll call and we were still not over the top, and we had thrown in all our reserve strength,” said Clay. “Then Minnesota switched and everything was fine.” Jean Edward Smith, Lucius D. Clay 599.

EIGHTEEN

“I Like Ike”