Regrettably, I’m old enough to remember watching the 1964 Republican Convention. It was held in San Francisco at an indoor arena oddly named the Cow Palace, and it provided the first obvious example of the Republican Party’s capacity for irrationality and self-destructive zeal. Both qualities were on full display back then, and they have returned today.
The Republican Party in 1964 was caught in a struggle between its more traditional East Coast liberal wing, and a rapidly rising and more rabid West Coast faction. The favored candidate from the east was New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller, who had seemed the early favorite and the natural heir to that part of the party conceptually led by former President Dwight Eisenhower. But by the time the convention convened on July 13th, Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater was in the driver’s seat. When Rockefeller took the podium to deliver his speech, he was greeted by loud boos from Goldwater delegates, many shouting for him to “go back to Russia.” Certainly that was an unusual suggestion for the scion of one of the country’s most conspicuously capitalist families.
Over the course of the next couple of days, it was clear Goldwater would be the nominee, selected by his raucous and (for then) extremely conservative delegates. Goldwater accepted the nomination giving a stern speech, one in which he memorably embraced the views of his supporters by declaring that, “Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. Moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue.” The phrase seemed to encapsulate and endorse what many believed to be Goldwater’s views that were seen as being well outside the mainstream.
After the nomination, Goldwater made a pilgrimage to Eisenhower’s retirement venue in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and then made another to meet with Eisenhower and other Republican leaders, all in an effort to generate party unity and smooth away some of Goldwater’s rougher edges. But Goldwater liked his rough edges, even the ones regarding the use of tactical nuclear weapons in Vietnam. After the second meeting Eisenhower stated that he had initially thought Goldwater was simply stubborn, but now he believed he was just “plain dumb.”
In later years, Goldwater would say humorously that he had always wanted to run for president in the worst way, “and I did.” The election was one of the greatest landslides in American political history. President Lyndon Johnson won 61% of the popular vote, forty-four states, and 486 of the 538 electoral votes. It would be sixteen years before the Republican’s western, more conservative wing, would re-emerge with the nomination and election of Ronald Reagan.
But what of Goldwater? He left the Senate having given up his seat to run for president. But four years later he ran again and was elected to replace retiring Arizona Senator Carl Hayden. Scott Fitzgerald wrote “there are no second acts in American lives,” but Barry Goldwater proved that was untrue. For him there was quite a second act. A man once seen as a wild-eyed radical would become a highly respected and moderating influence within the Republican Party and elsewhere.
During his second act, Goldwater is most famous for the role he played in the last days of the Watergate Scandal that ended the presidency of Richard Nixon, a man who had loyally supported Goldwater back in 1964. As it became clear that Nixon had indeed been involved with the Watergate break-in and the subsequent cover-up, following the implicating revelations contained in the famous “smoking gun” tape, and after the House Judiciary Committee had voted three articles of impeachment on Nixon — with bi-partisan support, Goldwater led a group of Republican senators to the White House to confront Nixon.
Once the articles of impeachment were delivered to the senate, under the constitution the senators would sit in judgment of Nixon with two-thirds needed to vote to remove him from office. Nixon continued to see the exercise as more a political than a legal struggle. As reported at the time, during a tense Oval Office meeting Nixon asked Goldwater how many votes he had in the senate, to which Goldwater replied, “Not enough, and not mine.” Nixon resigned from office two days later.
From there, Goldwater would spend thirteen more years in the senate leaving as one of its most respected members. But over the years that followed, the man once dubbed “Mr. Conservative” changed his views on many issues. Indeed, in 1986, as Chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, and working closely with Democratic Senator Sam Nunn of Georgia, Goldwater crafted a significant piece of legislation regarding the structure and control of the Pentagon. That law, the Goldwater Nichols Act, did many things but primarily it enhanced civilian control of the military. This was a remarkable effort for a man who in 1964 had suggested the authority to employ nuclear weapons be delegated to military officers and down to battlefield commanders.
An interview Goldwater granted in retirement in 1993 to Hugh Downs of ABC News was extraordinary. In it Goldwater stated that after nearly thirty years he still stood by his “extremism” speech at the 1964 convention, but then revealed that he was not onboard with numerous tenets closely associated with contemporary Republicanism. He stated he was disturbed by the heavy influence of religious evangelicals on the Republican Party — acknowledging that he had supported a Democrat in an Arizona election over the Republican candidate who he felt was too “extreme” in his religious views. He also stated that he was fully “pro-choice” on the hot-button issue of abortion. Later, when Senator Bob Dole made his pilgrimage to Phoenix to visit Goldwater following his 1996 Republican presidential nomination, Goldwater lectured him on policies excluding gays from service in the military. “It doesn’t matter if you are straight, Bob, only if you can shoot straight,” Goldwater said, before adding, “Damn Bob, I’m the liberal of the party.”
But what was clear about Goldwater during this journey was that he always placed country over party, that he recognized danger signs when they emerged, and that he was concerned when seeing the growing influence within Republican ranks of those he thought were “kooks.” He admitted that over the years some of his views had changed. In explaining the changes, his comments were similar to those of boxing legend Muhammad Ali, who once said that, “If you believe the same things at fifty that you believed at twenty, it means you haven’t learned anything in thirty years.”
Where are the Barry Goldwaters in today’s GOP? As former Republican strategist Stuart Stevens has said, the party that was for small government, balanced budgets, international alliances, free trade, respect for the law, and constitutional fealty no longer supports any of those things. This is the major theme of his recent book It Was All a Lie: How the Republican Party Became Donald Trump. Maybe what we have been seeing in the recent past is merely an amplified version of the Republican rift between Eisenhower and Goldwater back in 1964. Maybe it’s a reflection in more vivid colors of the old friction between eastern and western Republicanism. Maybe.
But neither party wing in those days rejected the political and personal norms of American political life. After President George H. W. Bush, who had been a strong Goldwater supporter in 1964, lost his bid for re-election in 1992, he left behind in the Oval Office a very personal and gracious letter offering best wishes to Bill Clinton, who had defeated him. His son, President George W. Bush, did the same when Barack Obama was elected. And the gold standard of concession speeches may be the one delivered by Senator John McCain in 2008, congratulating Obama on his “historic” election, and pledging to work with him going forward despite their policy differences. McCain occupied the senate seat previously held by Barry Goldwater.
The absence of such Republican leaders is very disturbing. One wishes more than a handful of them would show the political wisdom and personal character of Goldwater. He may have changed many of his views over the years, but we should be certain about one thing. Were Donald Trump to tell him he planned to challenge the recent election all the way to the Supreme Court, and then ask Goldwater what he thought about the 72 million votes he received, it’s a certainty that old Mr. Conservative would reply about those votes, “Not enough, and not mine.”
