Nothing Else to Do

POLITICAL NOTES

Nothing Else to Do

"A bale of congratulations!" was what Postmaster General Farley sent Democrat Edward Raymond Burke three weeks ago when that New Dealer snatched Nebraska's senatorial nomination from old-time Democrat Charles W. Bryan.

Last week Boss Farley heard how Upton Sinclair, in a victory no less complete, had become the Democratic nominee for Governor of California. The Postmaster General rubbed his bald pate and finally conceded: "If Sinclair is the choice of the Party, there's nothing else we can do but congratulate him. The Party has never failed to support its nominee."

The trouble was not that Nominee Sinclair opposed the New Deal or was lukewarm to the Party, but that he had wrapped his long radical arms around the Roosevelt Administration in an embrace of deep political affection. The novelist who had never reached first base running on the Socialist ticket exclaimed: "Today's nomination is a victory not for me but for the people of California . . . and for the New Deal. We have been nominated as Democrats and we intend to function as Democrats. . . ."

Yet only one prominent Democrat, Relief Administrator Harry Hopkins, who is himself applying some of Nominee Sinclair's economic principles (see p. 10), expressed joy. Said Mr. Hopkins: "What do I think about Sinclair's nomination? I think it's great stuff. Sure I'm for him. He's on our side. A Socialist? Of course not! He's a Democrat. A good Democrat."

With his radical EPIC program (TIME, Sept. 3), Upton Sinclair defeated George Creel, a liberal Democrat backed by the McAdoo machine, by a 3-to-2 plurality. The greatest Sinclair strength was developed in and around Los Angeles, home of Aimee Semple McPherson, Cecil B. DeMille and Utopia, Inc. At the same time the Republicans nominated by an even heavier plurality a thoroughgoing conservative, Acting Governor Frank F. Merriam. Inevitable result: California's November election will be fought not on party lines but on the issue of economic radicalism and experimentation. That issue definitely jeopardizes the Democrats' chance of carrying the State, for if those Democrats who voted for Creel decide that they love the Democratic Party less than they hate radicalism, Mr. Merriam will probably be elected.

With President Roosevelt's open approval, California Democrats also nominated Hiram Johnson for Senator--and, incidentally, gave him more primary votes than did the Republicans who also nominated him. Thus the Democratic ticket will be headed by an ex-Socialist and an ex-Republican, and sheer party loyalty is not likely to weigh heavily in November. Mr. Sinclair's chances of election depend largely on what Senator Johnson may say for him. and what the Democratic machine headed by Senator William G. McAdoo is likely to do for him. Last week Senator McAdoo was thinking things over in Paris.

Said Hamilton Cotton, who ran George Creel's campaign: "I sorrowfully concede the rape of the Democratic Party in California by Upton Sinclair."

Said John B. Elliott, vice chairman of the State Democratic Central Committee: "Party rule as a governmental function has passed, at least temporarily. ... I shall support the candidates best qualified for public service regardless of party ticket."

The Sinclair victory threatened to drive California moderates as well as conservatives to vote the Republican ticket in November. If such a mass movement should develop, it might sweep many a luckless Democratic Representative out of his seat and return to the House a batch of Republicans who would do the prestige of the Roosevelt Administration no national good whatever. Both Boss Farley and President Roosevelt were anxiously aware of these possibilities when Republican Senator Hastings of Delaware said the thing they did not want said: "Upton Sinclair is a Socialist running on a Socialist platform heartily endorsing the New Deal. ... At last we are beginning to get things straight."

To Franklin Roosevelt's discomfiture, Nominee Sinclair, in a dither of haste to get into the spotlight, wired him asking for an interview as soon as possible. There is plenty of precedent for a President keeping on the fence in a pre-primary campaign, but for him to deny his countenance to an actual nominee of his own party is almost unprecedented. Yet to shake Upton Sinclair's hand in welcome at Hyde Park would have tended to confirm Senator Hastings' inference. With the best grace possible the President had Marvin Mclntyre, his No. 2 secretary, announce that he would talk no politics with any candidate. Nominee Sinclair would be as welcome at Hyde Park as anyone else with something to discuss--antidisestablishmentarianism, the War of 1812 or the weather. But of the New Deal or EPIC there was supposed to be nothing but silence.

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