Eleanor Roosevelt, Volume 3

by Blanche Wiesen Cook

  Lady Stella Reading’s birthday note, filled with admiration for ER, detailed the new Nazi V-1s, unmanned drone bombs that had devastated London, day and night, throughout the summer of 1944. The “buzz bombs” had killed or injured more than 33,000 people and destroyed almost a million homes.* Frightened and exhausted, over half a million Londoners had evacuated to the countryside—and all now faced the winter with dread. The task of “re-homing people” would be “colossal” and tragic, Lady Reading said, since “the amount of pain . . . caused by robot bombing [meant] a severe test for everyone.” Even in the context of this agony, Lady Reading was certain that ER had the “indomitable strength of mind and belief” to face the future: “I do wish you knew how all of us think of you and of the work you have done, and of the lead you have shown us, and how truly we admire not only the strong and purposeful way in which you have pursued the things you thought right, but the complete ignoring of self that you have shown.”

  That autumn ER worried that FDR’s reelection efforts were sluggish, while Dewey was gaining support. She repeatedly urged FDR to speak out boldly. Although he resented her badgering, he eventually followed her advice. On 23 September he belatedly launched his campaign with his most memorable speech before an assemblage of Teamsters and other unionists, to counter Dewey’s “dirty campaign” attacks of Communism and thievery:

  Republican leaders have not been content with attacks on me, or my wife, or on my sons. No, not content with that, they now include my little dog Fala. Well, of course, I don’t resent attacks, and my family doesn’t . . . but Fala does. [As soon as the Scottie heard the Republican fiction] that I had left him behind on an Aleutian Island and had sent a destroyer back to find him—at a cost to the taxpayers of two or three, or eight or twenty million dollars—his Scotch soul was furious. He has not been the same dog since.

  FDR was in the fight. In a series of stunning speeches, he presented the reasons the future of democracy depended on his election—all of which resonated with ER’s vision and emphasized issues she had repeatedly urged him to address. While he never credited her advice, she was gratified when he opposed the poll tax and championed universal suffrage: “The right to vote must be open to our citizens irrespective of race, color or creed—without tax or artificial restriction of any kind.”

  During that 5 October speech, nationally broadcast from the White House, FDR vigorously slammed “propagandists” and “politicians” who dragged “red herrings” into this election. There were “labor baiters and bigots” who “use the term ‘communism’ loosely, and apply it to every progressive social measure and to the views of every foreign-born citizen with whom they disagree. They forget that we in the United States are all descended from immigrants (all except the Indians); and there is no better proof of that fact than the heroic names on our casualty lists.”

  On 28 October in Chicago, before a jubilant crowd of 100,000, FDR detailed his vision of the “economic bill of rights” he had announced in January. Our men and women would return from war to “this land of unlimited opportunity . . . where all persons, regardless of race, and color, or creed or place of birth, can live in peace and honor and human dignity—free to speak, free to pray as they wish—free from want—and free from fear.”

  ER joined FDR for a rain-drenched tour in an open car through New York City. Despite the downpour, crowds greeted him in every borough, and FDR refused to shorten his planned route. They stopped several times in garages to “change into dry clothes,” but at the end of the day, ER wrote, “he was drenched to the skin.” That evening he was to address the mostly Republican members of the Foreign Policy Association at the Waldorf-Astoria. To rest beforehand he went with ER to the Washington Square apartment in Greenwich Village that she had rented for their retirement. (“He had told me to get an apartment . . . where he could work in peace and quiet, with no steps anywhere for,” whenever he was in New York and not in Hyde Park or Warm Springs.) This bright, airy apartment, which faced the park, seemed to ER “ideal.” She “had never had a chance to show it to him” and was pleased that he “said he liked it very much.”

  She was also impressed by her husband’s stamina: “I was really worried about him that day, but instead of being completely exhausted he was exhilarated.” Churchill wondered about FDR’s “prudence” in riding in an open car in the “pouring rain with a temperature of 40 and clothes wet through.” He asked for “reassurance,” which FDR sent immediately: rain “does not hurt an old sailor. Thank you for your advice nevertheless. I am in top form.”

  ER and FDR thereafter campaigned separately, and she limited her words to those her husband endorsed. On Election Day, 7 November, the first couple converged on Hyde Park. The gathering was festive, with private moments divided between his court and hers. Daisy described several “very peaceful and restful” hours at FDR’s Top Cottage with his circle, while ER walked with Joe, just returned from Guadalcanal, and Trude through the woods of Hyde Park. Joe wrote that the conversation, “the leaves crackling underfoot, gave life zest.” Joe and Trude both argued that ER “had a responsibility” to assert “a more forthright position of leadership in the country. Millions of people were voting for her as well as for the President.” ER was glad that Trude and Joe were reunited and with her. He was to begin officer training in Virginia, and they were to marry the next day.

  The entire party assembled in the library for a high-spirited dinner. It was “an unusually nice party,” Daisy wrote, with a few “‘odd’ elements,” meaning Joe and Trude—who nevertheless were made to feel most welcome. Joe noted that the president toasted his and Trude’s marriage. At midnight the traditional torchlight parade of Hyde Park neighbors, joined by three busloads of Vassar students, arrived to cheer. FDR made a short speech, ER invited the press in for snacks, and a team of FDR’s “helpers” stayed up until three-fifteen a.m., when Dewey finally conceded. A closer contest than 1940, it was still a significant victory. Democratic majorities increased in the House and the Senate.

  On 8 November, ER and Tommy attended Joe and Trude’s wedding at her apartment in Manhattan. Joe’s mother was there, as were Trude’s children and several friends. Paul Tillich officiated. The next day ER and FDR returned to Washington, where ER told her press conference that she anticipated difficult years ahead in “winning the war, making the peace, rebuilding the world.”

  Before the election, ER had not wanted to add to FDR’s burdens, and since they were called Communists whenever they spoke on behalf of unionists or civil rights, was restrained in her public statements. But now that the election was over, she wanted all “pussyfooting” political compromises to end. Of FDR, Harry Hopkins, and Bob Sherwood, she demanded action: why, after all, had FDR run again if not to advance his stated goals? she asked. Hopkins was impressed: she remained not only her husband’s eyes and ears but also the true keeper of his conscience.

  Although ER and FDR agreed on many issues, especially the importance of the UN and its new agencies, she wanted him to address race, rescue, and refugees before war’s end. His promises for “full employment” must take effect, and efforts to ensure quality universal education across the color line must begin. Exhausted and unwell, however, the president sought rest—and escape from his wife’s persistence. They were together only infrequently after the election, although they spent Thanksgiving at Hyde Park. One day, Daisy noted, ER and FDR “had their lunch alone—a remarkable occurrence.” In the afternoons, ER read and FDR played solitaire.

  On Saturday night they all entrained for Washington, and FDR departed on Monday for an extended healing trip to Warm Springs with Daisy, Polly Delano, and a full staff.

  In her column of 4 December 1944, ER discussed Auschwitz—perhaps the first U.S. journalist to do so:

  I received yesterday from John Groth, an artist-correspondent just returned from overseas, a pamphlet “The Camp of Disappearing Men,” for which he did the illustrations. It is a story o
f German atrocities in Oswiecim [Auschwitz], and is published by the Polish labor group. I do not know whether it is generally available to the public, but it should certainly be given wide distribution. The story is made vivid by the illustrations. It is a tale to fill you with horror, worse than almost anything your imagination can conjure up. And the end . . . leaves you with a determination that such cruelty and such treatment, with men turned into beasts, must never again be allowed to occur in this world. Any system which can train men through discipline to do the things which were done in [Auschwitz] must be so completely eradicated that there will never again be a resurrection of it.

  Secretary of State Stettinius had recommended new appointments for the department, but ER feared they meant the State Department would once again sabotage the president’s stated goals.* “It seems to me pretty poor administration,” she protested to her husband, “to have a man in whom you know you cannot put any trust, to carry out” important policies. One of the nominees, James Dunne, had “backed Franco and his regime in Spain.” Now he wanted “German industrialists to rehabilitate Germany . . . for the sake of business here.” Given the combination of Dunne, Secretary Stettinius, Dean Acheson, and Will Clayton, “I can hardly see that the set-up will be very much different from what it might have been under Dewey. . . . I suppose I should trust blindly when I cannot know and be neither worried or scared and yet I am both.” But FDR intended to remain in charge of his own diplomacy.

  In December, Count Carlo Sforza, who had been a leading Italian anti-Fascist for years, returned to office as foreign minister in Italy’s provisional government. He was anticlerical and antimonarchist, yet Churchill opposed him. On 3 December, unarmed Greek civilians demonstrated in Athens in support of anti-Fascist partisans. Perversely, Churchill ordered British troops to fire on them, calling them Communists and “treacherous aggressors.” Twenty-eight civilians were killed and more wounded. His insistence on monarchy steered Greece toward civil war.

  Labourites and U.S. liberals unanimously condemned Churchill’s policies in both places. Stettinius’s first action as secretary of state was to issue a press release endorsing democracy in Italy and tacitly rebuking Churchill: “The composition of the Italian government is purely an Italian affair [and] this policy would apply in an even more pronounced degree with regard to governments of the United Nations in their liberated territories.” On 6 December, ER wrote FDR to applaud U.S. support for Sforza: “I like the statement on Sforza and our attitude toward the other governments very much indeed, but are we going to use any real pressure on Winston? I am afraid words will not have much effect.” As ER feared, however, FDR did not oppose Churchill’s Greek policy, and the State Department made no further protest.

  ER tried hard not to be a “pest” and sent good news to Warm Springs whenever possible. Although she remained “suspicious of this whole bunch” at State, she told FDR that she was pleased that liberal journalist Ernest Lindley “wrote a column completely upholding all your State Department. So!” But her husband, in the company of Daisy and Polly, with occasional visits from Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd and her daughter Barbara, sought rest and quiet. According to Daisy, ER’s phone calls and letters distracted and upset him. ER regretted the need to trouble him, but she believed her perspective was vital for his impending summit meeting at Yalta.

  FDR returned for a Christmas family reunion, enhanced by many grandchildren, at Hyde Park. The holiday was marked by a significant snowstorm and distress about the great military losses in the Ardennes forest during the Battle of the Bulge. ER had private Christmas dinners with Hick, Earl Miller and his wife, Simone, and Joe and Trude, and she spent special times with Tommy and Esther Lape. Elliott had a new wife, Faye Emerson, a Hollywood star whom ER found “pretty, quiet & hard. . . . She seems capable but I don’t think she is more than a passing house guest! I hope I’ve behaved well!”

  ER came back to Washington to prepare the White House for New Year’s and the president’s fourth inauguration. She accomplished her chores as hostess and first lady with her usual grace and generosity, and she especially enjoyed her grandchildren—all thirteen would converge for the first time.

  On 20 January 1945, a raw, cloudy day, FDR, hatless and coatless, delivered his fourth inaugural address, from the South Portico, before thousands of people assembled on the snow-packed White House lawn.

  You will . . . I believe agree with my wish that . . . this inauguration be simple and . . . brief. . . .

  The great fact to remember is that the trend of civilization is forever upward. . . .

  Our Constitution of 1787 was not a perfect instrument; it is not perfect yet. But it provided a firm base upon which [we] . . . all races and colors and creeds, could build our solid structure of democracy.

  And so today, in this year of war, 1945, we have learned lessons—at a fearful cost. . . .

  We have learned that we cannot live alone, at peace; that our own well-being is dependent on the well-being of other Nations. . . .

  We have learned to be citizens of the world, members of the human community.

  We have learned the simple truth, as Emerson said: “The only way to have a friend is to be one.”

  We can gain no lasting peace if we approach it with suspicion and mistrust—or with fear.

  The Almighty God has blessed our land in many ways . . . [and our faith] has become the hope of all peoples in an anguished world.

  So we pray to Him now for the vision to see our way clearly, to see the way that leads to a better life for ourselves and for all our fellow men, to the achievement of His will to peace on earth.

  The splendid speech profoundly moved ER.

  One “evening when we were quiet,” as she wrote Joe, she asked FDR about his State Department appointments. He explained they were compromises with competing interests, along “the line of least resistance.” In this private moment, she asked about his plans for refugees, and he confided his “secret” intention to meet with Saudi king Ibn Saud after Yalta, for which he would leave two days later. Envisioning irrigation and forestation projects, he expected their meeting to advance prospects of settlement in Palestine.

  But when she offered to accompany him to Yalta, he rejected the idea, which hurt her deeply. “I am tired & so very depressed tonight,” she wrote Joe on 21 January. “The next years seem impossible to live through. . . . FDR & Anna go tomorrow night & I’m not really happy about this trip but one can’t live in fear, can one?” She wrote a revealing note to her Allenswood chum, Lady Florence Willert: “Franklin felt that if I went it would only add to the difficulties as everyone would feel they had to pay attention to me, but since Sarah Churchill was going, Franklin thought Anna would be a help and a comfort and I am sure she will be.”

  Clearly, FDR did not want his wife’s advice; she was not a comfort, and he wanted no competition. Once he and Anna departed into the unknown across most dangerous waters, ER plunged into many activities.

  At the Yalta Conference, in preparation for the UN’s founding meeting in San Francisco, the issue of “territorial trusteeships and dependent areas” was raised. Churchill “exploded.” Never, he “declared hotly, would he ever consent to the fumbling fingers of forty or sixty nations prying into the life’s existence of the British Empire. As long as he was Prime Minister . . . he would never yield one scrap of Britain’s heritage.” Even when informed that the foreign ministers at San Francisco would initially limit their concern to enemy-controlled areas and League of Nations mandates, “he continued to mutter: ‘Never. Never. Never.’” At this conference, then, promises to preserve Churchill’s sacrosanct empire was key to achieving compromises.

  The conference ended on 11 February, and the results were quickly publicized. ER sent her congratulations: “We seem to be almost united as a country in approval. I think you must be very well satisfied and your diplomatic abilities [were surely] colossal! . . . All the world looks s
miling! I think having the first UN meeting in San Francisco is a stroke of genius.”

  After Yalta, FDR continued his journey aboard the USS Quincy to Egypt. On 14 February, while docked at Great Bitter Lake in Egyptian waters, he met for five hours with King Abdul Aziz Al Saud, called Ibn Saud. After the two leaders exchanged warm greetings, “the King spoke of being the ‘twin’ brother of the President, in years, in responsibility as Chief of State, and in physical disability.” Thereupon FDR gifted the infirm warrior king—who had been wounded nine times—with his “twin” wheelchair, which was much appreciated, and a DC-3 plane complete with crew. The two leaders enjoyed congenial conversations and soon established “a very friendly relationship.”

  FDR asked Ibn Saud “for his advice regarding the problem of Jewish refugees driven from their homes in Europe.” His Majesty replied that they “should return to live in the lands from which they were driven.” FDR remarked that “Poland might be considered a case in point. The Germans appear to have killed three million Polish Jews, [so therefore] there should be space in Poland for the resettlement of many homeless Jews.”

  Ibn Saud “then expounded the case of the Arabs and their legitimate rights in their lands and stated that the Arabs and the Jews could never cooperate,” neither in Palestine nor anywhere else. Jews had purchased large tracts of land due to their increased “immigration” and now threatened a “crisis” in Palestine. “The Arabs,” the king said, “would choose to die rather than yield their lands to the Jews.”

  Ibn Saud concluded that the Jews’ only hope resided in “the well-known love of justice of the United States, and upon the expectation that the United States will support them.” FDR assured the king that he would “do nothing to assist the Jews against the Arabs and would make no move hostile to the Arab people.” He pointed out that he had no control over congressional resolutions, and that Americans enjoyed freedom of speech and press. They agreed that “an Arab mission to America and England” to end rampant misinformation about Arab sentiment would be “a very good idea.”