In a display of effective timing, John F. Kennedy chose January 2nd, 1960, the chronologically-sound calendar date given the year’s general election, to announce his bid for the Democratic nomination for the Presidency. The statement was not a lengthy one but it caught some pundits by surprise inasmuch as Kennedy was more widely viewed as a prospective Vice-President on the party ticket. Many of the nation’s Democratic governors appeared to possess “favorite son” candidate potential, making the season’s primaries difficult to navigate. So, the field of contenders in the post-Eisenhower era would certainly be crowded. Kennedy and his advisers, however, conceived a plan. Their work was not haphazard, nor would it prove to be in vain.
Though a two-time loser in clearcut fashion to Ike during the 1950s, Adlai Stevenson, still the de facto party leader, had not ruled out a third attempt. Lyndon B. Johnson of Texas, Hubert Humphrey of Minnesota, and Stuart Symington of Missouri, among others, were all viable rivals for the top spot. However, as Kennedy speechwriter Theodore Sorensen characterized the Massachusetts Senator, he looked like a winner more than he resembled a politician. In terms of youth and charisma in a new decade, the tanned and striking JFK harbored an edge over long-time Congressional representatives and other prominent names.
Therefore, Kennedy “embodied” his platform: the declaration to get the nation “moving again,” something a younger candidate could boldly, even brashly, claim. The mindset behind the drive entailed energizing the electorate, an ability not ascribed to Ike’s VP, Richard M. Nixon—the almost-definite Republican nominee. Though feisty and well-spoken as a debater, Nixon did not evoke the same passion exuded by Kennedy. Further, the difference also could be noted in their spouses, low-key Pat Nixon versus glamorous Jacqueline Kennedy. The Nixon clan was relatively plain; the Kennedys were wealthy and high-profile trend-setters.
But whether the opposition would come from within or outside the Democratic Party, there was a hurdle perceived as considerable—a national bias against Catholic candidates. In 1928, Al Smith of New York, then Governor, was regarded favorably in certain regions. Yet his Catholicism worked against his Presidential aspirations, leading to a landslide victory for Republican Herbert Hoover. Many Protestant and Southern Baptist voters were wary of possible influence from the Pope and such accompanying religious beliefs. Smith was trounced. And Democrats refrained from subsequent politicians representing the denomination. The concerns were significant enough for JFK and his team to have prepared proper responses in advance. To his credit, Kennedy argued convincingly that no one questioned his religion during his military service, a period in which he sustained a war injury to his back. And, in all fairness, all Democrats running would be facing some form of cultural or geographical barrier. For LBJ, the chore, for instance, was overcoming the image of him as a Southerner, a reputation underscoring doubt about his progressive nature. In his rebranding, he portrayed himself as a Texas ranch-owner as a means of allaying Northern voters’ fears. Also, Johnson chose not to be active in the primaries and elected instead to emerge in earnest for the party’s Convention.
Gallup Polls from the start of the year through May reflected Kennedy’s increasing popularity among Democratic voters, eventually surging into 40+% given the choices. Support for Stevenson kept waning. Humphrey failed to move into double-digits, Symington was no factor, and LBJ stayed in the background. Kennedy won nearly every primary despite the religious stigma which persisted.
As for Nixon, his eventual nomination was inevitable. Hardly challenged during the GOP primaries, he came away with about 86% of the totals from those “contests.” Meanwhile, polling about a Kennedy-Nixon matchup in November remained mostly tight in the Spring, with Nixon gaining a slight advantage during the Summer months.
Kennedy scuttled his competition but there was still the matter of the Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles. JFK was optimistic. LBJ postured, even challenging Kennedy to a debate at a nearby hotel to be attended by delegates of their respective states. Spoilers Humphrey and Symington favored Stevenson and/or anybody not named Kennedy. At the hotel debate, Johnson was the aggressor. But Kennedy dodged and ducked the heavy artillery, even stating Johnson would be an outstanding Senate Majority Leader. The deftness of the responses by JFK left neutral parties convinced the convention would easily go his way. Kennedy sought a first-ballot nomination. But there was additional commotion still to come.
Eugene McCarthy, a far more devout Catholic than Kennedy could ever be, spoke passionately on behalf of Stevenson, pleasing the contingent of older party faithful. The result was a wild 25-minute display of calculated but ultimately-counterproductive emotion from the rafters but not the floor. Wyoming’s delegation made the nomination official, with JFK ultimately doubling LBJ’s total Symington and Stevenson were very distant finishers at third and fourth place. Nixon had John Ehrlichman, among others, on hand to observe the proceedings which included behind-the-scenes bickering. Importantly, In accepting the nomination, Kennedy stated his case for the New Frontier, his vision for the party for progress versus the stand-pat GOP. Defining the platform—the stakes of the coming election—was made known to a national audience. As of this stage in the election year process, though the path had been rocky, JFK met his objectives.
Next, the business of choosing a running mate would prove to be a challenge. Sorensen’s original list contained 22 names, though a handful were truly viable. Humphrey had burned many bridges, so he was out. An underrated entry was Senator Henry “Scoop” Jackson of Washington, a possibility viewed by both the Kennedys and, while still a contender, LBJ, for the second slot. Jackson brought several virtues for both candidates—ideologically, geographically, etc. Though Midwesterner Symington was considered the “safest” selection, he declined.
Despite the mutual animosity between Johnson and the Kennedys, the political advantages of the partnership was undeniable. But JFK was not optimistic the ambitious Texan would accept the proposal. Nor did Johnson expect the offer. Moreover, LBJ’s loud presence offended the Kennedy liberals. A truce, however, was briskly and surprisingly achieved. Given the likelihood of a close race against Nixon, the political aspect became a vital consideration. Weighing the options, Johnson did not want to be left behind in the event of a JFK victory, or be blamed for not cooperating should JFK lose. He chose to be part of the action. Oddly yet fittingly, his opposite number on the Republican ticket was revealed to be Senator Henry Cabot Lodge Jr from Massachusetts.
But Nixon had made a regrettable pledge—–to campaign in all 50 states in the attempt to emphasize strength nationally. The Kennedy team focused their attention on so-called swing states and, with Johnson’s aid, made considerable inroads in the Southern U.S, Further, JFK managed to galvanize the Catholic vote while Nixon, predictably, carried the Protestants. On other matters, while Kennedy spoke often of new initiatives and reforms, Nixon relied on Ike’s popularity and the 8 years of peace and relative prosperity. The deep contrast presented a “change or no change” dilemma for the electorate. Still, the GOP had its own internal rifts. Governor Nelson Rockefeller of NY urged the party to incorporate several progressive programs, including one dealing with civil rights. Kennedy’s candidacy to African-American voters outdistanced Stevenson’s from prior years. Rockefeller earned the scorn of conservatives such as Barry Goldwater of Arizona who stated the Governor perhaps should have joined the Democrats. Though both parties sought a unified front and generally managed to succeed, there were key disputes.
One contention by Nixon that resonated with voters dealt with foreign policy experience. As Ike’s “apprentice,” Nixon was a proven veteran in Cold War skirmishes with the Soviets which served him well in the eyes of voters. But events in Cuba in recent years cast doubts on U.S. capability, providing JFK with a topic to exploit. Technically, Nixon, largely operating solo, skillfully compiled talking points underscoring the appealing aspects of the Republican platform. But there was an infamous blind spot that worked to Kennedy’s huge advantage. The 1960 election’s backdrop featured contemporary media coverage, placing television as the primary medium for image and activity. Nixon and JFK would be debating in a visual forum. In a “horse race,” what viewers saw had far greater impact than what may have been true previously. Nixon did not seek media counsel, nor did he solicit Ike’s advice on coping with the forum. Rather, he depended on his acumen as a policy debater.
Consequently, much has been made, quite justifiably, of the personal distinctions between the candidates, particularly in the first of the four debates. Nixon televised persona often appeared pale, ailing, even haggard. Conversely, JFK’s healthier presence was striking and formidable. By no coincidence, the slight lead Nixon maintained in the Summer months evaporated while Kennedy’s numbers trended in a more encouraging direction. When voters saw the men side-by-side, the impression made by Kennedy was more vigorous and, therefore, more persuasive. The irony was that JFK suffered from both Addison’s Disease and Irritable Bowel Syndrome, criticisms made by Nixon as the campaign closed. Yet, even with these key developments, a razor-thin result remained the anticipated outcome. Eisenhower’s late campaign tour on Nixon’s behalf, a decision made following a gaffe by Ike about Nixon’s acumen as VP, also constituted a GOP surge. By Election Day, polls reflected a virtual tie.
There are many interpretations for Kennedy’s 100K popular vote victory and his Electoral College (303-219) win despite Nixon taking more states. Among them are the figures for 1960 as they relate to partisan numbers from 1956. Essentially, JFK lost fewer Stevenson voters than Nixon lost Eisenhower supporters. While much was made about voter fraud in both Illinois and Texas, a study published in Presidential Studies Quarterly many years later found that JFK performed below Illinois Democrats running down ticket in 1960. Following the election, Nixon and Eisenhower spoke about challenging the overall result. But there was no compelling evidence of fraud in either Texas or Illinois. Nixon had conceded before the conversations with Eisenhower.
In all, voters opted to pursue the New Frontier and its promise to the nation over a continuation of the Eisenhower Administration’s policies. The pledge to get the country “moving” in a new decade was deemed worthy of the risk.
Hold Back The Nite 