The Democracy

The "opposition" of the U. S. took stock of itself. In failing to win the Presidency, it had lost practically all its power in Congress. Its House minority was 100 seats. In the Senate it was 17 seats behind. It was almost as though the 15 millions who voted for Smith were left without any voice in the doings of the 21 millions who voted for Hoover.

One certain Democrat was responsible at once for the hugeness of the Democracy's popular vote and for the Democracy's internal division. He was the strongest Democrat. He had demonstrated, apparently, that no living Democrat could have won this year. Now he was leaving politics (see p. 8), and the question was: to what, if anything, could the Democracy look forward?

Figures. One answer was suggested by statistics. Mark Sullivan, G. O. P. writer, took pains to show that Herbert Hoover had needed only 275,000 more votes, properly distributed, to get the electoral votes of the eight-State fragment that he lacked of a State-unanimous election. As easily, the New York World, and Professor Frank G. Dickenson of the University of Illinois, showed that Governor Smith lacked only some 354,000 votes, properly placed--about 1% of the total votes cast--to be elected President with 268 electoral votes.

Professor Dickenson explained the "real meaning" of the Hoover "landslide" as follows: "Take ten voters. The first man votes for Hoover, the second man for Smith and so on to the ninth man, who votes for Hoover. The manner in which the tenth man now votes decides the landslide.

"That is what happened in the election. Had the tenth man followed the examples of the other even-numbered men he would have voted for Smith. But he did not, so Hoover is our next president."

Factions. At least one voice was raised to urge that Governor Smith take the lead against the Hoover re-election of 1932. Albert S. Burleson of Texas, Wilsonian Postmaster General, said: "Apparently the teachings of Jefferson, Jackson and Wilson have been forgotten by the Southern people." But he was drowned out by a chorus of other voices. Bishop James Cannon Jr., hero of the anti-Smith crusade in Virginia, asked for the resignation of National Chairman Raskob. So did-Georgia's W. D. ("Praying Willie") Upshaw. So did the Georgian (Atlanta), the Observer (Charlotte, N. C.), the Winston-Salem Journal, the Mobile Register, Senators Simmons and Heflin, Governor Moody of Texas. Roman Catholicism, anti-Prohibition and Tammany were, of course, in all Southerners' minds. Governor Moody was more polite than most when he centred his fire on Mr. Raskob, whom he called "a cynical commercialist with an alcohol complex."

Mr. Raskob took his flayings in good part but gave no. immediate sign of retiring. Without reference to his own plans he proposed that the Democracy start the groundwork of its 1932 campaign at once. "The most glaring example of our lack of efficiency," he said, "is that, we allow a political organization to lie practically dormant over such a long period. ... I see no reason why we can't function right through the whole four years."

One kind of work that needed doing at once was what Governor Byrd of Virginia started planning--measures to get the anti-Smith Democrats back into their party before Hooverism's efficient follow-up men should come along to make permanent the breaches in the onetime Solid South. Governor Byrd's plan was to abolish his State's primary election, to which Hoover Democrats could not be admitted.

Roosevelt-Moody. Eager though he was to dissolve its national personnel, redheaded Governor Moody was not without constructive ideas about his party's future. In the same breath with which he condemned Mr. Raskob, he hailed the man to whom Governor Smith's, political potency had obviously passed. Said he: "The tremendous vote given Franklin D. Roosevelt by the citizens of the Empire State [for Governor] attest the esteem in which he is held by the people of the State and mark for him a continuous and growing place among the leaders of thought in national affairs."

It was almost as though Governor Moody, himself just re-elected by a whacking majority in the South, had said to Governor-elect Roosevelt in the North: "It's going to be either you or me in 1932, old boy, and I'm a good enough politician to see that it had better be you and me. We'll decide later which of us gets first place on the ticket."

Governor-elect Roosevelt wisely avoided public discussion of the future, specific and inevitable though it seemed. He asserted stoutly that the Smith candidacy had anything but weakened the party nationally--look at that popular vote! He might have gone on--but he didn't--to point out that the Smith power, appeal and tradition were continued in him by every token--the long friendship, the nominating speeches, the direct bestowal of New York's Governorship. He might have suggested, as others did, that in him the Smith power might be liberated from the stigima of Roman Catholicism, Tammany, social ineligibility, dripping-wetness.

Governor-elect Roosevelt did not betray his consciousness of any of these things, not only because it would have been bumptious to do so but also because all was contingent upon two things--his health and his record as New York's Governor.

For his record, a Republican Legislature began at once to prepare embarrassing features. The chief plan was to pass a State prohibition act, like the one Governor Smith got repealed, and dare Governor Roosevelt to veto it. That, they thought, would ruin him as a presidential possibility if by other bedevilments they could not prevent his re-election in 1930.

For his health, plans were drawn to instal an elevator in the Capitol and save his crippled legs a long climb. Mrs. Roosevelt said that her chief worry was that, too busy to exercise, he would get fat and give the legs that much more to carry. As soon as his very close victory (25,000 plurality) was assured, he set out for his retreat at Warm Springs, Ga., to exercise as much as possible before inauguration.

He was going to study New York's budget, he said, and agricultural relief would be a first consideration of his regime. He spoke then, probably, as a conscientious executive with an eye only to duty.

Another utterance he made last week seemed not without political felicity, not a bad starter towards girding up his party nationally against 1932. When the Smith returns were in, he telegraphed to National Committeeman John S. Cohen of Georgia: "Please tell the people of Georgia, my other State, that I am proud of the splendid way in which they have demonstrated their loyalty to the Democracy."

Senator Harris of Georgia and a remarkable delegation met the Roosevelt train as it pulled into Atlanta. Senator Harris, the spokesman, said: "We didn't get Governor Smith, but we got you to lead us four years from now."