Herbert Hoover

by Glen Jeansonne

  Back at home, Hoover assessed the condition of his nation. In the late 1950s he grew concerned that Americans were becoming too materialistic. He cited crime statistics as an index of moral decay. The boy who had attended rural schools worried that fashionable progressive education discouraged study of fundamental subjects such as math. He shared the fear of many of his countrymen in the aftermath of Sputnik that America was falling behind in science. The Iowa orphan believed many young people were preoccupied with entertainment and neglected religious grounding. However, Hoover had positive suggestions. He wanted to implement tougher educational standards. He pointed out that wholesome recreational opportunities such as those provided in his beloved Boys Clubs could provide alternatives to crime and idleness, pointing out that his clubs had reduced youth crime by 75 percent in one St. Louis suburb. In 1959, his eighty-fifth year, Hoover accepted twenty-three awards from groups such as the Jewish Theological Seminary and the U.S. Lawn Tennis Association. He laid three cornerstones for public buildings, dedicated four Boys Clubs, and devoted as much time as possible to his “pavement boys,” the newest incarnation of his love of children. He argued that with $10 million invested in a Boys Club in Harlem he could do more to deter juvenile delinquency than any police program.25

  The Eisenhower administration virtually cribbed its defense strategy from Hoover. However, he continued to warn about America becoming overextended, particularly in preserving the colonial empires of its allies, which, he believed, would be lost ultimately to changing times. With the French colonial empire in Indochina staggering, Hoover expressed the strong opinion that the United States should never dispatch troops to reinforce French imperialism. He was almost in equal parts an opponent of Communist aggression and an opponent of war. Always an opponent of colonialism, Hoover said that the United States “should cease to support colonial exploitation even by our friends.” The present world, destabilized by interminable Communist expansion, had only confirmed his belief that it had been wrong for the United States to enter the European war. Yet in his public statements, he was careful to be less critical of Republican foreign policies than he had been when a Democrat sat in the White House. He did not want to weaken the president or hurt GOP congressional candidates. In January 1957 several congressmen asked for Hoover’s opinion on a request by the president to authorize the chief executive to use American armed forces in the Middle East to preserve peace, and also for $400 million in economic assistance to the region. The aging statesman replied to the first request, “On the understanding that these proposals extend only to Russian Communist military aggression and to economic aid I am in full agreement with the President.” He elaborated when asked to do so by a senator, responding “that the United States should use its military forces to aid Middle East states to repel any military aggression in the region,” and that he backed “continued economic aid in the region.” Hoover had to some degree shifted his reluctance to intervene abroad because of the strategic importance of the Middle East, including its petroleum resources, to American interests, because the matter did not involve a lack of commitment on the part of America’s allies, such as he perceived the case to be in Western Europe, and because he wanted to back a Republican president.26

  Hoover remained dubious of some of Eisenhower’s domestic policies. He felt the president had not compelled the New Dealers to turn tail and run. He was less critical of the president’s foreign policy, which he felt, overall, was sound, yet he lamented the lackadaisical attitude of the United States’ Western European allies toward their own defense. He questioned whether the Europeans possessed the intestinal fortitude to defend themselves. The only option was to let them stew in their own juices, deterring a major war with nuclear intimidation until infatuation with the Communist utopia ended. Nonetheless, Eisenhower had avoided war while also avoiding concessions to Communism, such as Roosevelt had made. Hoover was gratified that Ike had largely, if not entirely, adopted the reliance on air power he had advocated during the great debate.

  Hoover realized that Eisenhower’s two terms had not restored the GOP to the place it had held before FDR as the nation’s majority party. The party needed to be rebuilt, and while Eisenhower had to his credit fiscal austerity and a period of peace and prosperity, he had failed to get down in the trenches to fight the hard battles necessary to rejuvenate and rebuild the GOP. Thus, his two terms, built on personal popularity rather than on ideology, represented an interlude rather than a trend. Three consecutive defeats of the GOP in congressional elections confirmed the ex-president’s appraisals. Some of Hoover’s close friends never ceased wishing that the Quaker, rather than the general, had occupied the White House during the 1950s.

  Still a public presence, the aged ex-president remained active in politics, charities, and writing. He seemed to have shifted the gears of the evolution of age into reverse. He received more speaking invitations than he could fulfill. In December 1959, he became a member of the board of trustees of the conservative Americans for Constitutional Action, which worked to elect conservative candidates to public office. Hoover did not intend to play a role in the 1960 Republican campaign. When party leaders asked him to deliver a speech at the quadrennial convention, he tried to beg off, but he consented to deliver a short address at Chicago. This was destined to be his fourth “farewell” appearance, and his last. Hoover considered Vice President Nixon to be Ike’s logical successor. He favored Barry Goldwater for the vice presidency yet considered it unlikely the delegates would pair two Westerners. Of the Eastern candidates, Hoover preferred Henry Cabot Lodge Jr., whom Nixon selected. Hoover liked Nixon personally but considered the fellow Quaker, like Eisenhower and Lodge, to the left of Goldwater and himself. Hoover opened his speech with a touch of nostalgia and irony. “In each of the last three Conventions I bade you an affectionate goodbye,” he said. “Apparently my goodbyes did not take,” he explained. “Unless some miracle comes to me from the Good Lord, this is finally it.” Hoover focused on moral, spiritual, and philosophical themes. He said that America was experiencing “a frightening moral slump” with an infection of Marxism undermining religious institutions. Churches and organizations devoted to character building and moral uplift needed additional aid. Hoover summoned the GOP to “stop this moral retreat, to lead the attack and recapture the meaning of the word—America.”27

  Hoover went on to say that the federal government should abstain from the use of the military to enforce the law by use of federal troops within any state except in the case of rebellion. Agricultural policy should be based on the premise of paying farmers to reduce the surplus by leasing marginal acreage and returning such land to pasture or forests. He also suggested that the government vow to avoid competition with private enterprise in a way that would appeal to both business and unions. He pointed out that workers on government projects had no bargaining leverage over wages or working conditions and could be terminated at will by the government—which was true at that time. Perhaps Hoover’s most penetrating observations pertained to his critique of the GOP candidate’s performance in his first debate with Kennedy. He found Nixon’s presentation weak and pointed out numerous errors the nominee had committed. He advised Nixon to address Kennedy directly, to challenge him more forcefully. Nixon had agreed with Kennedy’s premises five times rather than attacking them aggressively and defining their differences. JFK did not, by contrast, concur with Nixon a single time. Hoover urged Nixon to clearly delineate the lines of demarcation, suggesting that Nixon paint Kennedy as a big-government exemplar of the New Deal. The ex-president pointed out that Nixon should focus on identifying flaws in Kennedy’s program. Finally, and most obviously, Nixon’s appearance was unkempt. He did not appear presidential. He looked like a frightened rabbit. “Either he was ill or he was not shaven, or not properly made up. Or if he were made up, it was a terrible job and he should get a better make-up technician.” Hoover remained an astute critic of his own party in his final campaign, and he did
not mince words. In an additional memorandum to Kentucky senator Thruston Morton pertaining to campaign strategy, Hoover viewed Nixon as losing ground to Kennedy as the campaign progressed. He advised the party’s candidate to emphasize that Kennedy’s promises would require greater spending and tax increases. Nixon should advocate scaling down government and slashing taxes. Some $10 billion annually could be saved by taking the government out of work that could be done more efficiently by private enterprise. This would permit tax reductions. Minimizing government bureaucracy and reducing taxes would reap millions of votes.28

  Hoover liked Nixon personally but was pessimistic about his chances. Like Ike, he considered the Californian too willing to compromise. Eisenhower, however, had an advantage Nixon did not; he was a war hero. On November 8, 1960, Hoover cast his vote for the Republican ticket. He refused to predict an outcome, stating that he was no prophet. However, James A. Farley, who had directed FDR’s 1932 campaign and was now Hoover’s neighbor in the Waldorf Towers, predicted Kennedy would win all but fifteen states. The two men, now warm friends, met at the polls, shook hands, and posed for photos together. Asked if he had voted a straight party ticket, Hoover responded, “Any man who has been President of the United States at the hands of his party always sticks with his party.” Farley proved correct about the victor but far too optimistic about Kennedy’s margin of victory. Kennedy edged Nixon by one of the narrowest margins in the century. When the returns were in, Joseph Kennedy called the Waldorf to share his enthusiasm with his old friend. The Kennedy family always treated Hoover with respect. Hoover suggested that Nixon and Kennedy meet and shake hands before photographers as a display of reconciliation and national unity. Nixon was reluctant, but Joseph Kennedy helped arrange the meeting.29

  Notwithstanding his eighty-six years, Hoover planned to fly to Washington for JFK’s inauguration, only to find the airports closed because of a rare snowstorm. Kennedy wanted the older man’s presence to the extent that he sent a plane to fly him to Washington. Hoover and Kennedy enjoyed mutual respect, even fondness. At a reception in Palm Beach the young president sought out the elder statesman for advice. Hoover offered none, but told him not to worry because as president, Kennedy would be bombarded with advice. On April 17, 1961, American-trained Cuban exiles invaded Cuba at the Bay of Pigs and were quickly routed after Kennedy failed to provide promised air support. Hoover supported the attempt to overthrow Castro but said that he would have destroyed Castro’s entire army with American ground troops if necessary. Overcoming his Quaker inhibitions, the ex-president fulminated that America could not tolerate a Soviet-backed enclave nestled ninety miles due south of Key West. On April 28 the president sought the counsel of Hoover and General MacArthur, successively, at the Waldorf Towers. Kennedy eventually appointed Hoover as honorary chairman of his pioneering Peace Corps initiative. Kennedy’s thoughtfulness continued. He sent John McCone of the CIA to brief the ex-president on security issues.30

  Hoover remained relatively close to the Kennedys. In May 1963 the president dropped by the Waldorf for a visit while attending a birthday party in New York City. Later that year Hoover wrote the president’s mother, Rose Kennedy, stating that now he, like her husband, required a wheelchair, but “I am in a better way than he for I have begun to walk with the help of two good nurses.” In November, Hoover grieved for the young president struck down in his prime by an assassin’s bullet. He issued a press release stating that Kennedy “loved America and has given his life for his country. I join our bereaved nation in heartfelt sympathy for Mrs. Kennedy and their two children.”31

  The assassination of John F. Kennedy depressed the old man more than any event in years. Allan decided to spend the night with his father in his Waldorf suite to help calm his nerves. Truman and Eisenhower rushed to Washington to consult with the newly sworn-in president Lyndon Johnson, and in turn Johnson telephoned Hoover to complete the circle of unity among the living presidents. The next morning Hoover cabled the new president, “I am ready to serve our government in any capacity, from office boy up.” He also dispatched a note to the widow, Jacqueline Kennedy, conveying his heartfelt remorse. “You were always wonderful to my husband and he admired you so much,” she wrote back. The grieving widow paid a call on Hoover at the Waldorf, where he played with her youngest child, John-John.

  Lyndon Johnson’s initial address to Congress was delivered in somber tones. Afterward, Hoover wrote him “that all Americans who heard your stirring words will evidence appreciation by their cooperation and response.” On December 9, LBJ, while in New York for a funeral, impulsively decided to call on Hoover at the Waldorf, bringing with him Earl Warren and Mayor Robert Wagner. Two weeks later, Johnson telephoned to express Christmas greetings to the revered ex-president.32

  The 1964 campaign was the last one of Hoover’s life. Richard Nixon visited his apartment to discuss politics, but Hoover said he was unlikely to endorse any candidate in the primaries, although he liked Barry Goldwater. The Arizona senator was probably the closest to his ideological soul mate of any GOP nominee. Hoover was gratified by Goldwater’s telephone call from the convention to personally inform him that he had selected Representative William Miller of New York as his running mate. The conclave was the first Republican gathering he had missed since leaving office. The octogenarian told Goldwater that he could not be there in person, but he offered to write a letter of endorsement that could be read to the convention. The six-hundred-word epistle was read to the delegates by Illinois senator Everett Dirksen. On August 9, Goldwater paid a courtesy call on Hoover at the Waldorf and found the old man brimming with enthusiasm for the cause. Hoover fervently backed Goldwater yet doubted he could defeat LBJ, swept up in an outpouring of sympathy for the slain Kennedy.33

  On October 3, 1964, Goldwater penned a gracious note to Hoover thanking him for his sage advice and subtle support during the campaign. “This campaign will chart the course of conservatism in America for years to come, and I am counting on your efforts to make it a continued success,” the Arizona senator wrote. But Hoover had only two weeks to live. He died on October 20, 1964, before voters defeated the man who came closest to embodying his philosophy of any candidate nominated by the GOP since Hoover had departed the White House in 1933.34

  SEVENTEEN

  Tempest and Triumph

  On October 22, 1964, the presidential campaign was temporarily halted to permit both candidates to fly to New York City, where Herbert Hoover’s body lay in state at St. Bartholomew’s Episcopal Church. Some 17,500 mournful citizens filed by his coffin the first day. The setting was ornate, yet the ceremony itself was in keeping with the simplicity of Hoover’s youth.1

  From New York, the casket traveled by train to the nation’s capital. It was carried from Union Station on a caisson drawn by seven horses, and a crowd stood seven deep along sidewalks while soldiers fired a twenty-one-gun salute as Hoover made his final trip to the Capitol. Afterward, the casket was flown to Cedar Rapids, where 5,000 mourners met the plane, and then driven to its final resting place at West Branch, where 75,000 gathered for the burial on the grounds of the Hoover Library. Later, Lou, who had been buried at Stanford, was moved to a grave adjoining her husband’s.2

  The peripatetic life that had begun in a tiny whitewashed cottage at the corner of Main and Downey streets in the idyllic hamlet of West Branch had ended ninety years and two months later in a $32,000-per-year suite in the Waldorf Astoria, high above Manhattan’s Park Avenue. Born to a father who shod horses, Bertie had risen to the pinnacle of American power and had lived to witness the space race, yet he never relinquished the values inculcated by his Quaker parents and relatives.3

  Hoover circled the world as a trailblazing engineer. Between 1914 and 1923, he had earned himself titles such as the “Great Humanitarian,” the “Napoleon of Mercy,” and “Samaritan to a Continent.” He had managed, orchestrated, and assisted an array of relief operations unparalleled in world history, all without a cen
t of remuneration, declining even expenses. During and after World War I he was responsible for the delivery of nearly 34 million metric tons of food, clothing, and medicine to those endangered by famine and pestilence in Europe and Asia. These supplies were worth some $5,234,000,000 in the currency of his time, an estimated $50 billion today. Most of these undertakings were initiated by Hoover; none of them could have been accomplished without him. Hoover fed an estimated 83 million people and was doubtless responsible for saving more lives than any individual in history. This does not even include the role he played when beckoned by President Truman to survey relief needs and supplies in the wake of World War II, the distribution of which he did not personally supervise.4

  Returning to his homeland after the war, under presidents Harding and Coolidge he made an obscure cabinet post the most important force behind 1920s prosperity and became the greatest commerce secretary in history and one of the three or four most influential men in America. Hoover’s presidency was a disappointment, but he redeemed himself by sheer persistence, character, and steadfast unselfishness. Often swimming against the tide during the 1930s and 1940s, he wrote industriously, spoke widely, raised money for charities, and created one of the world’s great research facilities, the Hoover Institution on War, Revolution, and Peace at Stanford. Returned to public service by Harry Truman, he played leading roles in relief and in government reorganization and became the glue of the GOP during its own political exile, which lasted until 1953. If suffering brings redemption, Hoover knew both the agony and the ecstasy, regaining respect and deference, if never the adulation he had commanded prior to his presidency. He outlived most of his enemies and persuaded much of the public that he was a useful citizen of sterling character. When he was asked how he had survived the ostracism of the Roosevelt era, his eyes twinkled and he cackled, “I outlived the bastards.”5 Yet he never quite achieved historical vindication. If democracy is a cruel and fickle employer, historians abet the process of adulation and demonization to a degree often undeserved at both extremities. Herbert Hoover is the only U.S. president who never made the cover of Time as a sitting president—although he was on the cover four times while out of office.6