"Cut That Budget"

Returning to Washington after a ten-day holiday in Oklahoma, Senator Robert Samuel Kerr put a meaty forefinger on the mood of the reconvening Congress: "There's as much opportunity to achieve greatness by what you don't do as by what you do." Like many another Senator and Representative home on recess, Bob Kerr had tested political currents and come away with a spine-tingling shock. Around the nation at all levels people were hellbent on economy--and on not much congressional action beyond that. One senior Senator summed up his constituents' advice in seven succinct words: "Cut that budget and come on home."

Prodded by such sentiment, Washington's erstwhile big spenders were scrambling like refugees to the safe side of economy. None made the move with more agility than Senate Majority Leader Lyndon Johnson. Before recess Lyndon had edged close to the border, but he had also aired his private conviction that the budget flap would soon blow over. Ten days of Texas barbecues and bellyaching had turned him into economy's all-out champion: "I have never in my career seen such a strong demand for economy in Government." So general was the agreement that Capitol Hill was betting that Dwight Eisenhower would be lucky to get his record $71.8 billion budget through with no more than a $2 billion clipping.

Watching the Force. The new congressional attitude was more than a fiscal rebellion. It represented a subtle shift in sentiment since the 1956 election--from action to inaction, from do something to don't rock the boat. Even the Democratic National Committee, meeting in Washington, caught the fever. Receiving a plea from Americans for Democratic Action for adequate civil rights legislation, the committee quickly decided the message fell under the heading of "information," required no action. Instead, committeemen enthusiastically applauded the idea of making a big issue out of tax cuts.

The net effect of the new look was to huddle Congress' Eisenhower Republicans into an uncomfortable minority. Democrats found themselves aligned with conservative "1890" Republicans and wondered apprehensively whether they should try to outbid Senate Minority Leader William Fife Knowland, who is demanding a $3 billion budget cut and has turned on the school bill (see EDUCATION) that he twice before supported.

Was there a new political conservatism loose in the land? Few Congressmen--except the Old Guard Republicans--thought so. Said New Jersey's Congressman Peter Frelinghuysen, 41, Eisenhower Republican: "The Congress is restive, frustrated. The interesting thing is to watch what kind of force rushes in to fill this political vacuum."

Platform Republicans. The White House was pumping fast to fill the vacuum. Ike had attempted to toss responsibility for budget cutting back to Congress with his letter to House Speaker Sam Rayburn proposing minor cuts (TIME, April 29), but that tactic impressed neither Congressmen nor constituents. Now it was time for pressure on all fronts. Rallying point for the attack: the Republican platform.

The discriminating term Modern Republican is gradually being abandoned in favor of a better one: Platform Republican. Rising in a nearly deserted Senate chamber last week, New York's Jacob Javits urged "my colleagues in my party not to abandon either the principles or the programs which have been proven by popular acceptance . . ." In Spokane. Attorney General Herbert Brownell defined the Modern Republican: "One who believes in and pressed for action on the 1956 Republican platform." Vice President Nixon reminded a Washington convention of the budget-whacking U.S. Chamber of Commerce (see BUSINESS) that "the budget is high, but it is a balanced budget, and the third balanced budget in a row." And Defense Secretary Charlie Wilson huffed that he was getting fed up with his C. of C. friends who were complaining about the budget when they had never had it so good.

The President himself seized on a White House meeting with the League of Women Voters to lecture on the need for foreign aid (see below). At week's end Ike was preparing a TV speech to the nation to defend his budget. But would the speech be delivered too late to rally popular support for the budget? The new penny-pinching Democrats hoped so, because they were delighted to see the Republicans split on the issue of economy. Favorite Democratic cloakroom joke of the week: "If Ike does go on TV to defend his budget, the Republican Party should demand equal time to answer him."

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