June 12, 1960
Washington, D.C.
The Republican National Convention was a month and a half away, and New York governor Rockefeller was playing political games. Rockefeller had said at the end of 1959 that he wasn’t a candidate for the Republican presidential nomination. He wouldn’t challenge Nixon for the nomination. But that was then. For months, Rockefeller had been reconsidering his position, thanks to two new advisers: Emmet Hughes, a speechwriter who’d recently left the Eisenhower administration, and Henry Kissinger, a Harvard government professor who was Rockefeller’s chief foreign policy adviser.
Now Rockefeller was running a shadow campaign, hoping to be “drafted” at the convention by popular acclaim as the Republican nominee instead of Nixon.
Rockefeller knew it would take a miracle to pull it off, but snatching the nomination away from the vice president was still possible.
Wendell Willkie had managed it twenty years earlier. A few weeks before the 1940 convention he had zero delegates. He was an attorney, the president of a power company. After Republicans heard him eloquently criticize New Deal programs, Willkie skyrocketed to national prominence. Wendell Willkie for President clubs sprouted up all over the country—and that groundswell of support led to Willkie landing the Republican presidential nomination. No matter that Franklin D. Roosevelt trounced Willkie in the general election.
Rockefeller was throwing shade on President Eisenhower’s record. His defense policies exposed the United States to danger, Rockefeller said—but his real target was Nixon. The governor said the vice president had never clearly expressed his views on important issues.
The American people have the right to know from Nixon “precisely where he stands. I have stated my position on the questions I have posed. I invite the vice president to state his,” Rockefeller said.
Only Rockefeller knew why he was taking this route. His attempts to capture the nomination had created confusion just when the GOP was trying to foster unity.
A few days earlier, Rockefeller had breakfast with Eisenhower at the White House. He spent most of the meal attacking Nixon, but afterward he disclosed details in a news release that touted his pet initiatives: federal aid for education, medical assistance to the elderly under Social Security. The list went on and on—like he was on the campaign trail, barnstorming in another city in another state, trying to drum up local media attention.
Eisenhower felt used. He didn’t want his name attached to any Nixon-Rockefeller electioneering. Rockefeller clearly relished the “spoiler” role and loved to needle the humorless vice president.
Nixon was the odds-on favorite for the Republican presidential nomination. It was standard practice for Republican governors to endorse the heir apparent, but Rockefeller refused to follow tradition. Rockefeller said he was waiting for Nixon to “articulate his vision of America.”
Rockefeller’s people didn’t think Republicans could beat the Democrats just by running on President Eisenhower’s record. They wanted the party to adopt a more liberal platform.
The governor had big money and plenty of support. A few delegates might spark a “Draft Rockefeller” movement, and that might spread like wildfire. He could ruin everything for Nixon.
Back in January, Nixon hadn’t minded answering queries about his potential rival. “Nelson and I have been friends for a long time,” Nixon the statesman had said, over and over. “We both want the same thing: A Republican in the White House.”
But by June, Nixon was growing peevish, weary of the uncertainty. Was Rockefeller in? Was he out? What did he want?
Meanwhile, Rockefeller told the world he was worried about the United States. The nation was in crisis. A U-2 spy plane had been shot down over the Soviet Union. A summit in Paris between U.S. and Soviet leaders had been scuttled because of fallout from the crisis. Communists were gaining a foothold in the Western Hemisphere—and Richard Nixon didn’t have the skills to lead the nation, or inspire the world.
A few days after his breakfast meeting with Ike, the governor phoned Eisenhower at the White House.
He told the president he was thinking of throwing his hat in the ring and asked for his advice on whether he should run.
Eisenhower hesitated. If the New York governor challenged Nixon, it could divide the party. Ike understood that Nixon wasn’t easy to like. Hell, he had spent eight years working with him. By now, he knew his vice president’s strengths and weaknesses. Personality wasn’t one of Nixon’s selling points. But the president was a good judge of character. And he saw how hard Nixon worked on behalf of the administration and GOP candidates around the country. As he told a cabinet official, Nixon was gaining exposure and people were looking up to him.
So, Ike used a little psychology. He reminded Rockefeller that he had quit the race once before. And even if Rockefeller could get someone to put his name up at the convention, did he really think he had a shot?
Eisenhower told Rockefeller that if he tried to wrestle the nomination away from Nixon, it would divide the party. Maybe even cost the GOP the White House in the fall. And that, Ike said, would hurt the New York governor’s reputation in the party. He could become a pariah.
He trusted Nelson’s common sense. He didn’t want Rockefeller to hurt his standing within the party. And Eisenhower reminded Rockefeller of something else. If by some chance Nixon lost in November, Rockefeller would be the favorite heading into 1964.
Rockefeller thanked Ike for his counsel, but he knew he had to decide this on his own. He appeared on morning talk shows and assured everyone that he was a loyal Republican and that he was not trying to block Nixon’s nomination.
But, he said, the presidency was the most important job in the land. If he was drafted by the convention, he’d run.
Nixon was furious. Rockefeller was ready to undermine his candidacy, and he had powerful supporters.
L. Judson Morhouse, chairman of New York’s Republican Party, argued that Rockefeller had widespread national appeal. He urged New York’s ninety-six delegates to stay uncommitted. He said the New York governor had to run.
New York Republican senator Jacob Javits challenged Nixon to prove “that his thinking is modern and forward looking, and is not rooted in a stand-pat attitude.”
The New York Times said Rockefeller’s attack “is as clear and unequivocal a declaration of his candidacy…and the platform on which he is running as it is possible for him to issue without actually using the words themselves.”
Rockefeller’s more cynical supporters believed that his only goal was to weaken Nixon enough for him to lose in November and clear the way for his own presidential run in 1964.
It was a lot of hot air and “maybe,” but Nixon took it seriously. He had to address Rockefeller’s criticisms. Until he did, he’d be hounded by the media. So, during a campaign stop in Camden, New Jersey, Nixon held a news conference. He told reporters that he sharply disagreed with Rockefeller’s view that the vice president hadn’t articulated his positions on important issues.
And then he dropped a bombshell. He invited the New York governor to publicly meet with him to have an in-depth discussion about his views. Was Nixon challenging Rockefeller to a debate? At least that’s what the broadcast journalists at the news conference thought. Several jumped at the opportunity to host it. They quickly offered their studios for the event.
The following day, Nixon was greeted with a standing ovation when he walked into a breakfast session of the Republican National Committee.
He talked to them about the possible impact the internecine drama would have for the GOP. Nixon said party unity was the key to keeping the White House.
“We have ahead of us the fight of our life,” Nixon told the group. “We will win if we are united. We will lose if we are divided. I hope we can discuss the issues and disagree without being disagreeable.”
Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy; Nixon knew if he stuck to his plan and minimized the drama, maybe Rockefeller would flame out. All would be well, he told himself.