Project President

by Ben Shapiro

  Scott’s political opponents also took the Quincy Adams tack—they attacked Scott as a brutal executioner of deserters. During the Mexican War, several dozen Irish soldiers defected to the Mexican side and formed the San Patricios Brigade, convinced that they would be furthering the goals of Catholicism by doing so. It was a clear case of desertion, and Scott had no choice but to execute them. Pierce supporters “cynically used [the story] to infuriate those of Irish extraction.”51

  There was also the issue of Scott’s widely reported complaints during the Mexican War. Scott had been called back to Washington to help President Polk come up with a plan to win the war. Eventually Polk settled on the idea of occupying large chunks of Mexico in an attempt to force the Mexicans to the negotiating table. Scott immediately began organizing the military effort that would be necessary for such a strategy.

  Unfortunately for Scott, President Polk was undermining him. Polk was a Democrat; Scott was a Whig. Polk wanted Scott out of Washington, D.C., as fast as possible; Scott wanted to stay to finish organizing the effort. So Polk threatened to prevent Scott from taking up rank as general in chief. Scott responded by writing a miffed letter to Secretary of War William Marcy in which he penned the lines that would haunt him the rest of his career: he was, he wrote, “too old a soldier” to place himself in “the most perilous of all positions: A fire, upon my rear, from Washington, and a fire, in front, from the Mexicans.”

  Then, worse news for Scott: Zachary Taylor had won major victories at the Rio Grande. Scott would be denied his post as general in chief, Marcy informed Scott. Scott again fired off an ill-considered missive: “Your letter of this day, received at 6 PM, as I sat down to a hasty plate of soup . . .” Scott biographer John S. D. Eisenhower wrote, “That did it! Polk and Marcy published the letter in the Congressional Globe . . . The public laughed at the spectacle of a pompous general simpering at not getting what he wanted. Trivial as the matter was, Scott never lived it down.”52 Political cartoons from the 1852 election routinely depicted a spoiled Scott sitting down to a nice bowl of soup.53

  Most disgusting, Pierce supporters made an issue of a serious wound Scott received during the War of 1812. At the Battle of Lundy’s Lane, Scott took a musket ball in the left shoulder, losing full use of his shoulder for the rest of his life.54 Conflating Scott’s “fire upon my rear” letter with his wound, political opponents suggested that Scott had been wounded “in the rear.”55

  If Scott suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous politics, Pierce fared no better. Pierce’s military fame sprang from his gallant personal action at the Battle of Contreras during the Mexican War. Serving as a brigadier general under Scott, suffering from a serious ankle wound he had received the day before, Pierce insisted on returning to the battlefield, where he subsequently fainted.56

  For the public of 1852, there was gallantry in battle and there was fainting in battle—and ne’er the twain should meet. Scott supporters pilloried Pierce for fainting, pasting him with the label “the fainting general.”57 One political cartoon of the time shows Pierce in two settings. In the first setting, he trains his troops in New Hampshire, bravely standing out front. In the second setting, he follows his troops into battle in Mexico, whining, “Oh! how bad I feel, and every Step I go forward, I feel worse. I got such a pain in the abdomen I must resign my Command and go home.”58

  Another cartoon depicts Pierce, chased up a tree by Democrats desperate for a candidate, complaining, “Gentlemen don’t fire! If you please I cant [sic] stand the smell of Powder! It makes me feel faint even to think of it!!”59

  In the end, Pierce triumphed. The Whig splits were simply too wide for Scott to bridge. Pierce was a nonentity, but a benevolent nonentity.

  Unfortunately, Pierce was not quite so benevolent as president. He turned out to be one of the worst presidents in American history, presiding over the Kansas-Nebraska Act, ruling in favor of an illegitimate pro-slavery government in Kansas and essentially paving the way for the Civil War.

  IN 1864, GENERAL GEORGE MCCLELLAN made his bid to oust President Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln had ousted McClellan from his post as general of the Union Army the year before. McClellan’s run for president wasn’t just politics—it was personal.

  McClellan always had a low opinion of Lincoln. Lincoln was “an idiot,” he said.60 “I can’t tell you how disgusted I am becoming with these wretched politicians—they are a most despicable set of men,” he wrote to his wife in 1861. “I am becoming daily more disgusted with this imbecile administration . . . The presdt. is nothing more than a well-meaning baboon . . . ‘the original gorilla’ . . . It is sickening in the extreme . . . [to] see the weakness and unfitness of the poor beings who control the destinies of this great country.”61 Lincoln, then, was the first president to be called a smirking chimp.

  McClellan supporters came in two stripes: Copperheads, who supported an immediate peace settlement and opposed abolition of slavery, and War Democrats, who wished to win the war. McClellan’s Copperhead supporters were loudest and most obnoxious. They didn’t back down from McClellan’s assessment of Lincoln during the campaign of 1864. One particularly scurrilous, virulently racist piece entitled “The Lincoln Catechism” was released by New York Democrats:

  I.

  What is the Constitution?

  A compact with hell—now obsolete.

  II.

  By whom hath the Constitution been made obsolete?

  By Abraham Africanus the First . . .

  Lesson the Fourth . . .

  III.

  What do loyal leagues call the masses of the people?

  “A herd of cattle” – vide Secretary Stanton.

  IV.

  How many of this “Herd of cattle” have the abolitionists

  caused to be maimed or slain in this war?

  One million.

  V.

  How many widows have they made?

  Five hundred thousand.

  VI.

  How many orphans?

  Ten hundred thousand . . .

  Lesson the Ninth . . .

  VII.

  Was Mr. Lincoln ever distinguished as a military officer?

  He was—In the Black Hawk war.

  VIII.

  What high military position did he hold in that war?

  He was a cook.

  IX.

  Was he distinguished for anything except his genius as a cook?

  Yes—he often pretended to see Indians in the woods,

  where it was afterwards proved that none existed.

  XI.

  Is there proof of this?

  Yes—there are several men still living in Sangamon County, Illinois,

  who were present in the brigade at the time.62

  Lincoln, apparently, was the first “chickenhawk.”

  Democratic political cartoons blamed Lincoln for “whimsically” sacrificing hundreds of thousands of men. They relied specifically on an incident at Antietam. Lincoln visited the battlefield to check up on McClellan in September 1862. During his visit, Lincoln asked his bodyguard,Ward Lamon, to sing in order to lighten the mood; Hill sang a few songs, including a rather risqué piece entitled “Picayune Butler.”63 During the campaign of 1864, Democrats beefed up the anecdote, claiming that Lincoln had asked Lamon to sing him a “comic negro song” over the graves of Union dead. At anti-Lincoln rallies, Democrats carried banners reading “No More Vulgar Jokes.”64 Anti-Lincoln comics repeated the libel.65

  Lincoln didn’t like McClellan, either. During McClellan’s generalship, Lincoln routinely slapped McClellan down with witty ripostes. While visiting Antietam, Lincoln remarked on McClellan’s hesitancy to use his troops. Pointing out over the Union encampment, Lincoln asked one of his friends, O. M. Hatch, what the encampment was. “Why, Mr. Lincoln,” replied Hatch, “this is the Army of the Potomac.” Lincoln paused a moment, then caustically responded, “No, Hatch, no. This is General McClellan’s bodyguard.”66

  One of Lincoln’s supp
orters, Senator Benjamin Wade of Ohio, openly blasted McClellan’s military abilities. In one speech, Wade delivered one of the more scathing broadsides in the history of presidential politics. He told a story about his meeting with General McClellan: “We exhorted him, for God’s sake, to at least push back the defiant traitors.Why can’t you do it?

  “ ‘Oh, I have not men enough?’ [Laughter]

  “How many men have you? I know you have 160,000.

  “ ‘Well, you have got nearer the number than others have.’

  “And more, I know that you have 190,000. How strong, pray tell, are the rebels?

  “ ‘Oh, they are at least 220,000 or more, and they are behind fortifications stronger than those of Sebastopol.’

  “Well, I could not dispute with him on that point, because I had not been there to see, but I did not believe a word of it, neither does any Democrat in the United States believe it. [Laughter] I simply told him that to have got together such a number as that and to have supplied themselves with formidable armor, the rebels must possess some of the qualities of Christ in making bread. [Great laughter]

  “ ‘Believe it or not,’ said McClellan, ‘I have it on the best authority. A gentleman dined with me yesterday direct from Beauregard, and he reported that number.’

  “Where is that gentleman now?

  “ ‘I don’t know?’

  “Well, I can guess, I think he is dining with Beauregard and telling him exactly how many men you have got. [Laughter and prolonged applause]”

  After relating more stories regarding McClellan’s incompetence, Wade went on to say that McClellan could be found at the front of his troops only in retreat.Wade professed confidence that no soldier would vote for McClellan. “No,” he bellowed, “a true American soldier will vote neither for a coward nor a traitor.” Then, to cap off the speech,Wade claimed that McClellan had not pursued and crushed the Confederates after the Battle of Antietam because McClellan wanted “to protect the war till both parties were tired, and settle all difficulties under a Democratic Administration.”67

  The election of 1864 was decided on the battlefield—by Generals Ulysses S. Grant and William Tecumseh Sherman. Timely Union successes drove Abraham Lincoln to reelection. Military service was no match for true military leadership.

  THE ELECTION OF 1868 matched the most famous military hero of the Civil War, Ulysses S. Grant, against the controversial governor of New York, Horatio Seymour. As governor, Seymour had opposed the draft, the Emancipation Proclamation, and Lincoln’s encroachment on civil liberties. Many had labeled Seymour a Copperhead, and his candidacy did nothing to diminish such indictments. His campaign was openly racist; one of his campaign songs was entitled “The White Man’s Banner.”68Harper’s Weekly ran a cartoon depicting a confederate soldier wearing a hat reading “CSA” and carrying a confederate flag, side by side with a man wearing a hat reading “KKK” and carrying a Seymour-Blair banner. The title: “ ’Tis But A Change In Banners.”69

  The New York Times derided Seymour as “hollow and hypocritical in his position as governor during the war.While professing to aid the Government, he did all he could to embarrass it. Pretending to desire the preservation of the Union, he took the side of Vallandingham and the traitors at the North who were plotting for its destruction . . . His whole public course . . .Wears the aspect of treachery.”70

  Grant, meanwhile, campaigned solely on the basis of his military successes—that is, when he campaigned at all. Grant ran the tersest presidential campaign of all time, essentially uttering four words: “Let us have peace.”71 And it worked.Harper’s Weekly labeled Grant “The Modern Gulliver Among the Lilliputians.”72

  When General Sherman balked at openly endorsing Grant, Grant cleverly arranged a tour of the western territories with Sherman and General Phil Sheridan. The Times declared the tour a historic gathering of “the Greatest generals of our nation, and the world.” During the tour, Sheridan was far less neutral than Sherman. At one stop a member of a crowd shouted for Seymour. Sheridan responded by stating that if he were from the town, he would “duck that fellow in the Missouri River.”73

  Meanwhile, Seymour supporters labeled Grant a butcher, an ignoramus, and a drunkard. An anti-Grant parade in Nashville featured signs reading “Grant the Butcher,” “Grant the Drunkard,” and “Grant talks peace but makes war.”74 One anti-Grant song went like this:

  I am Captain Grant of the Black Marines,

  The stupidest man that ever was seen . . .

  I smoke my weed and drink my gin,

  Paying with the people’s tin.75

  The song may have been catchy, but it wasn’t particularly effective. Grant won the 1868 election walking away. Four years later, he won a similarly lopsided matchup against newspaper editor Horace Greeley. In the aftermath of the Civil War, Americans were not satisfied to leave the task of maintaining peace to anyone but the greatest military hero since George Washington.

  THE CIVIL WAR REMAINED the backdrop for the next several elections, with several Union generals running for president.

  Generalship, in this setting, was less about leadership ability than about loyalty: the Reconstruction Era elections featured “waving the bloody shirt”—Republicans raising the issue of Democrats’ wartime Confederate sympathies. Republicans routinely ran Union military leaders; Democrats occasionally responded by similarly running Union military leaders. In 1876, Republicans ran General Rutherford B. Hayes. In 1880, Republicans ran General James Garfield; Democrats responded with Gettysburg hero General Winfield Scott Hancock. In 1888 and 1892, Republicans ran General Benjamin Harrison.

  But military service gradually dwindled in importance as the Civil War receded in immediacy. Teddy Roosevelt’s service was a strong factor in his nomination for vice president in the election of 1900, but the next six presidents—Taft, Wilson, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, and FDR—had no military service among them. Harry Truman’s military service played little part in his 1948 campaign for president.

  Then Dwight D. Eisenhower came along.

  Eisenhower’s claim to fame sprang entirely from his military career. After serving as Supreme Allied Commander in Europe during World War II, orchestrating the invasion of Europe, he took a position as president of Columbia University. He returned to the world stage in 1950, becoming Supreme Commander of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.

  Eisenhower’s sterling record made him an attractive candidate for both major political parties in the aftermath of World War II. Thomas Dewey, the Republican presidential candidate in both 1944 and 1948, labeled Eisenhower a “very great world figure . . . one of the greatest soldiers of history . . . a man who really understands the problems of the world.” Harry Truman told Eisenhower in 1945, “There is nothing that you may want that I won’t try to help you get. That definitely and specifically includes the Presidency in 1948.”76

  Eisenhower didn’t run in 1948, but he took the Republican nomination in 1952. He faced Governor Adlai Stevenson of Illinois, a dream opponent. Stevenson was bookish, uncomfortable on camera, and high-handed. Eisenhower was friendly, approachable, and the most popular American military figure since Grant. His appeal was universal. As political scientists Philip Converse and Georges Dupeux explained, “The past military splendor of the conquering hero diffuses through a wide variety of references which make up these images—patriotism, past record, leadership, capacities in dealing with foreign problems, etc.”77 All of that was particularly true for Ike. But Ike didn’t have merely the military edge—he had the personality edge. Those two factors combined to swamp Stevenson in 1952.

  Eisenhower’s campaign focused, naturally, on his generalship during World War II. His campaign commercials touted his military leadership. One of Eisenhower’s most hard-hitting ads was entitled “The Man from Abilene.” It opens with the narrator discussing Eisenhower’s upbringing in the “heartland of America.” The narrator then touts Ike’s World War II leadership, as film of Normandy and the liberation of Franc
e flashes across the screen: “Through the crucial hour of historic D-Day, he brought us to the triumph and peace of V-E Day.” The narrator informs us, “Now, another crucial hour in our history—the big question . . .” And we cut to a younger man asking Ike directly, “General, if war comes, is this country really ready?” Ike, looking dead into the camera, sternly and indignantly growls, “It is not. The administration has spent many billions of dollars for national defense. Yet today we haven’t enough tanks for the fighting in Korea. It is time for a change.”

  The ad shows footage from Korea as the narrator continues: “The nation, haunted by the stalemate in Korea, looks to Eisenhower.” Cut to Eisenhower standing beside world leaders. “Eisenhower knows how to deal with the Russians. He has met Europe’s leaders, has got them working with us. Elect the number one man for the number one job of our time. November 4th vote for peace. Vote for Eisenhower.” It is a terrific ad, simultaneously attacking the Truman Administration for malfeasance on defense policy and stumping for Eisenhower as the answer to America’s needs.

  A lighter, animated Eisenhower ad, “Ike for President,” subtly plays on Ike’s military resumé. Animated figures, including Uncle Sam wearing an Ike button, march across the screen as a catchy marching tune by Irving Berlin plays. The bass line repeats, in straight martial quarter-time: “Ike for president, Ike for president, Ike for president . . .” The lyrics urge Americans to turn out for the general:

  We don’t want John or Dean or Harry.

  Let’s do that big job right.

  Let’s get in step with the guy that’s hep.

  Get in step with Ike.

  You like Ike, I like Ike, everybody likes Ike—for president.

  Bring out the banners, beat the drums,