Friday, Jun. 15, 1962

'It's the Right Thing'

(See Cover)

It was an occasion for Republican hurrahs. In 17 cities across the U.S., party loyalists were gathered at fund-raising dinners to hear pep talks, over closed-circuit TV, about this fall's congressional elections. Dwight Eisenhower, speaking from Los Angeles, was interrupted repeatedly by loud applause. Senator Barry Goldwater drew a spirited response. So did National Committee Chairman William Miller. Then the voice and figure of New York's Governor Nelson Aldrich Rockefeller confronted the diners. And at every single meeting, from Boston to Tulsa. Rocky was ignominiously booed.

That was a mere four months ago. Today, in a turnabout remarkable even by the volatile standards of U.S. politics, Rocky gets cheers from Republican regulars around the land. Almost everyone agrees that he is the man to beat for the Republican Party's presidential nomination in 1964. This week the Gallup poll (which takes Richard Nixon at his word that he will not be a candidate) reported that among rank-and-file Republicans Rocky has a handsome lead for 1964, with 32% as opposed to 23% for Barry Goldwater, a surprising 14% for Milton Eisenhower, and a mere 8% for Michigan's George Romney.

What has happened to bring about this change ?

To Republican professionals, Rockefeller long seemed a maverick. They looked on him as a liberal, whose views often sounded more Democratic than Republican. They saw him as a troublemaker when he publicly criticized his party's leaders and program during his abortive attempt to win the 1960 G.O.P. nomination. Then there was the matter of his divorce from his wife of 32 years--and the insistent rumors that he intended to marry a younger woman.

Into the Vacuum. But so far, Rockefeller seems to have weathered his divorce well. And recently, quite independently of his own efforts, he has been thrust into the vacuum in national leadership that plagues either U.S. political party when it does not hold the White House. Nixon, the G.O.P.'s "titular leader," has in recent weeks run into trouble in California and, despite last week's primary victory, faces a hard struggle for survival in his fight against Governor Pat Brown. Goldwater, who seemed for a while to be a hopeful G.O.P. prospect, has been hobbled by the fact that he is beginning to sound to many like a broken record, and by the party pros' conviction that he is simply too conservative to win a national election. Such dark-horse possibilities as Romney and Pennsylvania's William Scranton have yet to prove themselves in their home states.

That pretty much leaves Rocky. But if happenstance has helped, so has hard work. As Governor of the nation's most powerful state, he has administered its wide-ranging affairs ably and conscientiously, placed himself among the limited ranks of really effective U.S. Governors.

Aware that he must prove himself to Republican regulars if he hopes to get the 1964 nomination, Rocky has also begun talking and acting more like a regular himself. Though he spends most of his time consolidating his position in New York, he has shown a ready willingness to come to the party's aid around the U.S. as speaker and fund raiser. Last month, on a typical tour, covering three days and four nights, he visited Washington, Wyoming and Colorado, met with G.O.P. leaders in each, made eight speeches, appeared at four news conferences and a TV interview, and shook about 5,000 hands. "He showed us," drawled a Wyoming Republican, "that he really doesn't have horns." Semantic Duel. Even more important in the dehorning process is Rockefeller's earnest effort to neutralize the "liberal" label that frightened many Republicans the last time around. Whenever he can, he makes it clear that he feels that he and his program have been miscast in the semantic duel between liberal and conservative. Says he: "I think those words --liberal and conservative--have little meaning in relation to present-day problems. It's like saying 'Don't confuse me with the facts; I don't want to think.' When I make a decision, I think: 'It's human, it's right, it's neither liberal nor conservative, but it's the right thing to do." Adds Millionaire Rocky ironically: "I have as much to 'conserve' as anyone." Basic Creed. This is not mere party-pleasing talk. Rockefeller wants to travel the middle of the road, which he feels was pre-empted by Nixon last time, but he denies that he has consciously moved to the right in order to get there. Nonetheless, his associates admit that the lessons of his office have affected some of his views. Rockefeller now believes that there is a greater role for state and local government than he once envisaged; he would strictly limit the power of the Federal Government. He puts heavy emphasis on re-establishing the strength and vitality of state government, an idea stressed in his Godkin lectures at Harvard on "The Future of Federalism" that he increasingly uses to sum up his political philosophy (see box}.

As for charges that he is only a Democrat in Republican clothing. Rocky is downright indignant. He professes what to him is a basic Republican creed--and challenges anyone to dispute its orthodoxy. "In addition to the fact that I was born a Republican," he says, "I believe in the worth and dignity of the individual --the concept of equal rights. I believe in private initiative and private enterprise: this is the growth factor in a democracy.

I believe government close to the people is good government. And I believe in fiscal integrity." Itching for 1964. But what really attracts Republicans to him is that, of all the party's presidential possibilities. Rockefeller stands out as the one who behaves as if he is itching to take on John Kennedy in 1964. He has hit at the "inconsistency" of the Administration's policy in the Far East, on its farm policy, and on Kennedy's handling of the steel crisis. He has charged that Kennedy is seeking too much power ("We are getting toward a government by men instead of government by laws"), scored Kennedy's delay in resuming nuclear tests, derided his failure to push civil rights legislation.

Rockefeller is particularly critical of Kennedy's economic policies, feels that the Administration does not really understand the workings of the economy. The President's actions, he charges, "have destroyed the climate for growth." Says a top national Republican of Rocky: "He seems to be more partisan. He's criticized Kennedy for some things that a lot of people would have thought he'd have gone along with. He's getting more of a fighting image." That image is also obvious to Democrats--and they have stepped up their fire on Rockefeller. In Atlanta last week to deliver the commencement address at Spelman College, a Negro institution for women.-- Rockefeller quietly but effectively answered Democratic National Chairman John Bailey's demagogic charge that he had opposed a federal department of urban affairs because of racial feelings against its proposed head, Housing Administrator Robert Weaver, a Negro. Noting his and his family's long and distinguished record on civil rights. Rocky said: "I speak from a family-ingrained conviction whose roots are deep indeed. It is for this reason that I have felt entirely free to speak most critically of those who pay elaborate homage to the civil rights cause at election time, but are found wanting in the courage, the profound and true belief, that must back promises with action." Later, at his press conference, President Kennedy repudiated Bailey's charge, saying: "I've never seen any evidence that Mr. Rockefeller is prejudiced in any way toward any racial group." Rockefeller definitely does not believe that Kennedy is a cinch to win in '64. He thinks that he could have beaten Kennedy in 1960 (Kennedy privately agreed after the election that Rocky might have won) --and that he can do it in 1964. As Rocky sees it, Kennedy's performance to date has been more image than substance, more rhetoric than performance, more show than go. He is convinced that Kennedy's potential for major error is large--and that the President's image and popularity can fade badly before 1964.

Help from Democrats. Rockefeller's own future depends on how well he does in the New York election this fall. A big win would propel him strongly into the running in 1964. So far, New York Democrats seem intent on giving him a helping hand. No Democrat has yet emerged who is any real opposition for Rockefeller, and the Democrats have made news mostly by their scramble to avoid facing him in the fall.

New York's Mayor Robert Wagner, after making sounds like a candidate for months, has firmly bowed out of the running, but the failure of anyone to take his place may yet find the Kennedy Administration pressuring him to change his mind. After Wagner's demurrer, the list of Democratic possibilities who wanted no part of Rocky suffered a sudden boom.

Out bowed New York's Deputy Mayor Edward F. Cavanagh; so, in slightly less final tones, did former Representative Franklin D. Roosevelt Jr. Strengthening Rocky's hand, the Democrats have not even been able to come up with a Senate candidate to face G.O.P. Senator Jacob Javits. Desperate for names, Democratic leaders put out word that their choice was U.N. Under Secretary Ralph Bunche. then U.S. Information Agency Chief Edward R. Murrow--without even bothering to tell Bunche or Murrow about it first. Embarrassed, both men quickly ruled themselves out of the race.

"Definite & Final." The Rockefeller whom the Democrats seem afraid to face is a different man from the brash young millionaire who upset Harriman in 1958.

Three and one-half years in the governorship have done nothing to lessen his imperturbable self-confidence, but they have added vastly to his knowledge of government and administration. While serving in appointive jobs under three Presidents --and suffering enormous frustrations under Eisenhower--Rockefeller learned one important lesson: that U.S. political power really rests with elective officials. In the New York governorship, he found an ideal vehicle for his talents and energies.

There was little doubt, even in the beginning, that Rockefeller was looking far beyond the statehouse in Albany. His inaugural address, which did not even mention the State of New York until page 4, moved New York Herald Tribune Columnist Roscoe Drummond to remark that it "could as well have been delivered from the steps of the Capitol in Washington." After only six months as Governor--and countless denials that he was interested in anything beyond Albany--Rockefeller admitted publicly that he had the presidential bug. He undertook a series of whirlwind speaking tours to sample political sentiment, began trying to define issues on which he might challenge the strong grip Vice President Nixon held on the party machinery. But Rockefeller found that the men who controlled the Republican Convention were down the line for Dick Nixon. Just when many politicians expected him to fight Nixon for the nomination, he made a "definite and final" announcement that "I am not, and shall not be, a candidate for the nomination for the presidency." And he added: "Quite obviously, I shall not at any time entertain any thought of accepting nomination to the vice-presidency." The Treaty of Fifth Avenue. That should have been that. But Rocky made himself look foolish and indecisive by refusing to give up hope. After the U-2 incident and the breakup of the Paris summit conference, he thought he saw another chance, announced that he would accept a draft if it came. He struck out at both Nixon and the Republican Party for failing "to make clear where this party is heading and where it proposes to lead the nation," outlined his own ten-point program for progress in foreign and domestic affairs. When Rocky threatened a floor fight at the convention, Nixon flew to New York, and after eight hours of give-and-take (during which Rockefeller adamantly refused Nixon's offer of the vice-presidency), the two produced the now famous "Treaty of Fifth Avenue," which incorporated many of Rockefeller's beliefs into the G.O.P. platform. It was bitterly resented by many Republicans, including Dwight Eisenhower.

Rocky urged the New York delegation to "unanimously endorse" Nixon, and pledged his wholehearted support. During the campaign, he made 400 speeches for Nixon, and Nixon later said that "no one in the country worked harder for the Nixon-Lodge ticket than did Governor Rockefeller." But many Republicans still thought they detected a lack of enthusiasm in Rockefeller's stumping, and they resented his support of Kennedy's plan for medical care for the aged and his refusal to agree with Nixon that U.S. prestige was at an alltime high. After Nixon lost, Rockefeller lost no time in announcing that he would seek re-election as Governor of New York--and made it clear that he recognized no national G.O.P. leader. "Between elections," he said, "when a party loses the presidency, I don't think that the party has an actual head." Enjoying Problems. With ex-President Eisenhower making only rare public pronouncements and Nixon busy in California, the field was left open to Rockefeller to capitalize on his position as the reigning Republican of a powerful state whose Governors are traditionally considered presidential possibilities. Rockefeller's speeches are now mailed to state G.O.P. organizations around the country, and a card file of "friends" across the U.S. is growing steadily. Every day more than 20 requests for appearances, sometimes as many as 35, arrive at the Governor's headquarters. His political aides keep in closest touch with party developments around the U.S., and some of them canvass the nation talking up Rocky's record in New York.

Without that record, all the fence mending in the world could hardly have made Rockefeller the top possibility for the 1964 nomination. The rich and cosmopolitan state of New York is a typical social laboratory that contains within itself all of the domestic problems--from dairy farming to police protection--found on a grander and more remote scale in the Federal Government. In an era in which many big-state Governors are defeated by their task, Rockefeller has been a successful Governor. "It's like an intensive graduate course in social, economic and po-,. litical problems," says Rocky. "I enjoy solving problems." In that graduate course, solving his problems as he went along, Nelson Rockefeller has garnered some high marks: FINANCE. When he took office, the state faced a potential deficit of $700 million.

Rockefeller wiped it out with the help of an unpopular--but fiscally wise--tax hike of $277 million. Every year he has balanced his budget, and has steadily reduced the state's debt service charges from $53 million to $40 million a year.

-THE ECONOMY. "Jobs depend on industrial growth, and government does too," says Rockefeller. During his governorship, more than 1,700 plants have been built or expanded in the state; economic growth has increased 16% over 1958 (based on such state commerce department indexes as employment, retail sales, and investment in plant and equipment); and jobs have climbed by 450,000, pushing New York's unemployment rate well below the national average. Rockefeller sponsored several measures aimed at improving the state's business climate, but he did not forget labor: he pushed through the first statewide minimum-wage law, increased workmen's compensation and unemployment benefits.

-HOUSING. Rocky set up a housing-finance agency to attract private capital to build badly needed middle-income housing, established the nation's first plan in which the state lends the buyer part of the down payment for cooperative-apartment housing, and presented New York City with an imaginative plan for a ten-year, $4 billion program to provide middle-income apartments for 1,000,000 persons by erecting buildings in the air space above such public facilities as piers, schools, police stations and expressways (two such buildings are already under way).

-EDUCATION. Rockefeller has increased state spending on primary and secondary education from $580 million to more than $1 billion, launched a $750 million building program, and vastly expanded the state's loan program for students. Under Rockefeller, the state has quadrupled its budget for scholarships, tripled its contribution to universities.

Despite such accomplishments, Rocky's term as Governor has not been all roses.

In his first two years, he set up so many task forces--48 in all--that the legislators became incensed at what they took for a usurpation of their powers. To pacify them, Rocky had to drop the task forces and modify his technique. Though he is extremely well informed in many areas of state government and quotes statistics endlessly, Rockefeller has sometimes shown embarrassing gaps in information.

While discussing reapportionment, he be trayed the fact that he simply did not know that New York City council dis tricts are identical with and based on state senate districts.

Rocky can be as unyielding as granite.

His aides strongly advised him that fallout shelters were the least exciting subject he could possibly dwell on ; but he insisted on pushing a massive New York shelter pro gram in the 1960 legislature -- and his bills were predictably tabled (a vastly watered down version was passed the following year). Such stubbornness can be coura geous: in Election Year 1962 both par ties were determined to pass a political bonbon in the form of a Korean war bonus. Rockefeller thought the notion was unwise, and went before a meeting of the American Legion four months ago to tell the veterans nothing doing. That bill was also tabled.

The Unhappy Months. On the morning of March 3, 1961, the executive mansion in Albany burned, and Governor Rockefeller and his wife, Mary Todhunter Clark Rockefeller, escaped together by climbing down a ladder from the roof. To many, that date seemed to mark a turn for the worse in Rockefeller's personal fortunes.

Albany regulars suddenly became aware that for months Mrs. Rockefeller had been little in evidence. What they could not have known was that Rockefeller and his wife were headed for a divorce.

Mrs. Rockefeller had never been much interested in politics or in being in the limelight. As Rockefeller's political ambitions grew, so did the gap between his interests and Tod's. When Rocky first made known his plans for divorce, his wife, his brothers and his advisers tried to get him to change his mind--but Rockefeller was adamant. The November announcement of the marital breakup came like political thunder. Then, less than 48 hours later, came word of the loss of the Rockefellers' youngest son, Michael, in the waters off New Guinea, and the Governor's futile and compulsive race to the Far East.

On his return from New Guinea, a stricken Rockefeller threw himself into his job, working harder than he ever had in his life. He managed to dispose of 300 bills during a successful legislative session, took action on another 1,000 during the 30-day bill-signing ordeal that New York imposes on its Governors. Then he began a bone-wearying round of regional planning trips around the state, making speeches, presiding at dedications, and attending policy meetings. Often, he got only four or five hours of sleep a night; occasionally he became numb and bristly.

The Unlucky Brushes. Meanwhile, Rockefeller's prestige had suffered several blows. Despite Rocky's all-out support.

New York City's Republican Mayoralty Candidate Louis Lefkowitz got badly beaten by Mayor Wagner. Rocky was equally unlucky in his other brushes with the mayor. When he called a special legislative session to suspend the New York City school board and set up a new one, his proposal contained technical errors--and he was forced to retreat to a plan similar to Wagner's. In the New York City bus strike, he drew criticism for not acting quickly enough on legislation that would enable the city to take over the lines.

Rockefeller managed to make himself seem inconsistent on the national scene as well. He lashed out in Des Moines at Kennedy's proposal for a department of urban affairs--then was publicly reminded that he had previously favored such a department. (He does not favor it "in its present form"--but few voters got the distinction.) And when Mary Rockefeller went to Reno--at the Governor's request --politicians began counting the vote losses in the thousands every time the press printed a picture of her.

The effect of the divorce on his future became the U.S.'s No. 1 political guessing game. Rocky himself was--and is--noncommittal. "I think," says Rockefeller, "we should let the voters comment on that in November." But he is acutely aware that the New York election returns will be closely analyzed for signs of the divorce's impact. And he is confident that the decision will be in his favor; a poll several weeks after the divorce showed that his popularity had dropped only a meager 2%.

Both Democrats and Republicans agree that remarriage could be a serious political mistake.

In hopes of burying the issue of divorce with a big victory in New York, Rockefeller has long since started campaigning.

"I am focused completely on the 1962 election in New York State," he says.

"This year is going to determine a great deal in both parties for the future." His brown hair is greying and his wrinkles are deeper, but he still exudes vigor -- particularly when he is among the voters.

The sheer act of campaigning nourishes Rockefeller as it does few other leading U.S. politicians.

The Right Kind of Corn. On the stump, he pumps hands, slaps backs, signs auto graphs and shouts greetings -- "Hi sweetie . . . wonderful to be here . . . this is very exciting . . . thanks a thousand." His campaign speeches are repetitious and full of homilies, but they drum home the watchwords of his administration: fiscal integrity, pay-as-you-go, schools, jobs, housing, equal opportunity. When in the midst of crowds, he winks, grins, furrows his brow in endless contortions, seeming to say to perfect strangers: "I'm with you. I understand. You've gotten through to me." Recently, he donned a cowboy hat and climbed on a stagecoach to drive it a few miles, sheared a sheep, picked up some worms and handed them to giggling girls after breaking ground for a factory.

He gets in a few words of his fluent Spanish whenever he can find a single Spanish-speaking voter in his audience.

It is all kind of corny -- but it is the corniness that has given Nelson Rocke feller an enviable political charisma..

Array of Power. As a candidate, Nelson Rockefeller has at his fingertips an array of power and talent that few politicians in the land can boast. His personal fortune is estimated at between $100 million and $200 million (it would, wags say, make Jack Kennedy the poor man's candidate in any race with Rockefeller).

Like Kennedy, he has his own private airplane (a Convair) for campaigning. He has homes in Manhattan (his ex-wife has taken over their Fifth Avenue apartment, and he now shares the penthouse apartment of Brother Laurance), in Washington, in Maine, in Venezuela and near Tarry town, N.Y., where his family estate at Pocantico Hills spreads over 3,000 acres.

For a rich man, Rockefeller has generally modest tastes. He dresses conservatively in $150-$200 suits, does not smoke, drinks only wine (his favorite aperitif: Dubonnet) or beer. His biggest extravagance is his collection of more than 1,000 paintings, most of them modern (Picasso, Klee, and Miro). Despite his heavy schedule, he still likes to read art catalogues for recreation. He enjoys driving alone in his 1955 Chrysler convertible (he keeps the top closed) because it gives him a little privacy. Says he: "I spend virtually all my waking hours with people. I have to have a chance to stop and relax." One of the most valuable political advantages of Rockefeller's wealth is the large cast of advisers on whom he can call to perform almost any task, research almost any problem. As Governor, he has his own staff of seven close counsellors, and he gets help in planning and strategy from such Republican pros as State Chairman Judson Morhouse. But that is just the beginning. In a five-story Rockefeller brownstone in mid-Manhattan, he employs a five-man research group that delves into current problems, keeps Rocky informed on matters as sundry as education and trade. On his personal payroll, he has 35 people, including a speechwriter, a consultant on international affairs, and an economist. In addition, he has at his disposal the Rockefeller brothers' staff of 26, which includes advisers on public affairs, finance, legal affairs and international matters.

To many, such signs of wealth raise a question: In the modern U.S., does it take a rich man--with the money, staff and conveniences he can muster--to be nominated for the presidency? John Kennedy is a millionaire, and, besides Rockefeller, many of the G.O.P. possibilities for 1964 are men of wealth: Goldwater, Romney, Scranton (Nixon, while hardly rich, is certainly well off. He recently had a $135,000 house built; his estimated annual income: $250,000). When Hubert Humphrey sought the Democratic nomination in 1960, he found lack of money a huge disadvantage; for months after his Wisconsin and West Virginia primary fights, he was still paying off the debts they piled up. While no one believes that wealth alone is decisive in winning either nominations or elections, there is little doubt that wealth helps in hurdling the rigorous demands that U.S. politics increasingly imposes on candidates.

Keeping Them Awake. Rocky's advisers are already thinking beyond next fall to the problems that Rockefeller will face in seeking the 1964 nomination. Rocky's toughest job, as they see it, is to establish a political position that differs from Kennedy's, yet is sufficiently broad and appealing to attract the voters. This is not easy, since Rockefeller often finds himself agreeing with Kennedy's goals--if not always with the way he reaches them. He has supported the President on such issues as tax withholding for dividend and interest income, care for the aged under social security, a new trade law. In fact, Rockefeller's men suspect that in certain areas of national policy Kennedy has consciously tried to pre-empt Rockefeller's ground, expecting him to be the 1964 G.O.P. candidate.

As for himself, Rockefeller is a congenital optimist. He believes that, with effort, any odds can be overcome. "Anybody who hopes for the 1968 nomination," says a Rockefeller aide, "has to carry the burden in 1964, futile as it may seem to be." But futility is not in the Rockefeller vocabulary. Are his sights really set on 1968? "No, no," says Rockefeller, smiling broadly. "I'd be too old.

That's a younger man's job." But at 53, in good health and belonging to a family noted for longevity, Nelson Rockefeller can certainly look forward to 1964, to 1968 or even beyond. And as of now, he is plainly the man to reckon with in the Republican Party. Recently, in the course of campaigning, he was received into the Hawk clan of the Seneca Nation and given a new name: Sagoyewatha. It means "He Keeps Them Awake"--and it somehow seems appropriate to Nelson Rockefeller's present position in his party.

-- The Rockefeller family has contributed to the school since its founding in 1881 as Atlanta Baptist Female Seminary. In gratitude for gifts made by John D. Rockefeller Sr., the founders a few years later renamed the school Spelman Seminary in honor of John D.'s wife's parents, Harvey and Lucy Spelman, who maintained a station on the Underground Railroad.

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