By Edwin Cooney
Ronald Reagan used to get a lot of political and entertainment mileage at fundraising dinners and GOP campaign events by reminding audiences that Governor Al Smith, the 1928 Democratic presidential candidate, abandoned the Democratic Party as a matter of principle, not personal politics. The Reagan anecdote is about 75% false. Al Smith felt not only unappreciated but betrayed by Franklin Roosevelt’s unwillingness to hire Smith's executive secretary Belle Moscowitz when FDR succeeded to the New York governorship. (As surprising as it may be, it was the idealist Eleanor Roosevelt who told her husband that if he hired Al Smith's people rather than his own, All Smith and not he would be perceived as the governor of New York State.) Additionally, Al Smith felt betrayed by Roosevelt at the 1932 Convention that nominated FDR over Smith's bid for a second crack at the presidency. Even worse, FDR became president. FDR's success became personal for Al Smith and by 1936 he'd joined the American Liberty League largely consisting of conservative Democrats opposed to FDR.
There's little historically new or particularly adventurous about changing parties unless you're a prominent politician whose "political treachery" embarrasses a lot of important leaders and financial supporters. When that is the case, even if your name is President Theodore Roosevelt, Mayor John Lindsay, Governor John B. Connally or, in Britain, Winston Churchill, you'll pay a significant political price. (Note: the only one who got pretty cleanly away with changing parties was Mr. Reagan himself. In 1973, when President Nixon was seeking to replace Vice President Spiro T. Agnew, he wanted to tap John Connally, but was reminded by Republican leaders that Connally was a Democrat after all and that they wanted a Republican vice president, not a Democratic one.)
People register with political parties for any number of reasons and, since they are often lacking logic or practicality, they can be largely considered strictly personal decisions. These decisions may be based on social or religious or even perceived financial advantage. All of these pathways to political preference can and often are altered by life experiences.
From the time I was 13 until I was 29, I was a “died-in-the-wool” Republican. Even more, although I learn to respect and cheerfully root for Barry Goldwater in 1964, I loved Richard Nixon. For years, I was constantly reminded of his poor appearance in the first Nixon/Kennedy debate and that he subsequently lost not only the presidency in 1960 but the race for Governor of California to Pat Brown in 1962. Even worse, I was reminded, he was a "poor loser." He was a ski-nosed, heavily bearded, sweaty, shifty-eyed politician who could only be elected by smearing his opponent with the label of “Communism.” To me, Richard Nixon's political label of “moderate Republican” merely reflected his political flexibility and administrative practicality. One of the political highlights of my life came on November 5th, 1968 when he was finally elected president.
Throughout the next four years however, I came to see with increasing clarity his administrative and even personal flaws. I couldn't ignore, as hard as I tried, his attacks on protesting students. It became increasingly clear to me that he had no "secret plan" to end the Vietnam War but rather a disengagement designed ultimately to leave the South Vietnamese to their doom. After all, the leaders could flee to France, but the people were “expendable.” Overall, though, the Republican Party stood for good things: limited government, law and order, "workfare" rather than welfare, states rights, annual Lincoln Day dinners, Teddy Roosevelt and Ike. Then came the Watergate break-in. I hung in there until John Dean's compelling testimony and Alexander Butterfield's disclosure of the White House taping system. President Nixon's subsequent dismissal of Elliot Richardson and William Ruckelshaus demonstrated to me the president's integral bankruptcy. What in particular bothered me was the slowness of GOP leaders to condemn GOP immorality while continuously twisting civil rights into civil misdeeds. Ultimately, the party caught up with the evidence but only when it nearly cost them public offices.
From 1974 onward, I looked to men named Henry Jackson, Hubert Humphrey and, of course, Ted Kennedy for experienced leadership. Then, along came the outsider Jimmy Carter and it was with the former Georgia governor that I hung my star during 1976. Thus it was on Saturday, October 30th, 1976 that I changed my party affiliation from Republican to Democratic. Although I considered myself well-served by President Carter, I have never been, up until Donald Trump, as much a Democrat as I was once a Republican. Beyond that, my own outlook changed. A graduate of SUNY Geneseo, I sought to be competitive in my job search and became attached to the idea of affirmative action when it pertains to the evaluation of minority educational and job opportunities. As I was rejected for teaching positions due to my lack of sight, I lost faith in the "anyone can do it" assertion of Conservative Republicanism.
Today we live in a far different world than we did back in the 1970s except for one crucial factor.
When I was growing up race, religion, and politics were topics not engaged in during polite conversation. Today, all three topics are not only open for discussion, they are verbal weapons as much as they are anything else. Since then, I've discovered the reason for this screen of politeness. Race, religion and politics were the domains for all of our secret aspirations and motives. Politics then and now are too personal to be revealed to others until such times as it is practical to reveal them and take action in support of them.
In the meantime, we can tell ourselves that the outrageous behavior last January was equivalent to the “Minutemen" of Lexington and Concord. Additionally, we can tell ourselves that the Confederacy wasn't treasonous, but was only about “states rights.” Then, we can equally love "Old Glory" and the stars and bars. As to the question of who has changed, I say neither me nor thee!
Hence, the ultimate question has to be, when will all of us change?
I'll give you my best guess soon.
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
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