1968 Getting It Right; A Follow-up to Hillary’s Comments Regarding RFK
By: Norman Sherman, Former Press Secretary and Speech-writer for Vice President Hubert H. Humphrey. Mr. Sherman is now a Tucson resident and wrote this piece with us. He was also editor of Humphrey’s autobiography, “The Education of A Public Man.” He had earlier worked for Eugene McCarthy.
Recently, Senator Hillary Clinton reminded us that 1968 was a horrendous year for our country. This reminder emerged as part of her justification for not concluding her candidacy for the Democratic Party’s nomination.
Whatever one thinks about the appropriateness of highlighting Bobby Kennedy’s assassination, she clearly meant to imply that unforeseen events have befallen persons leading in the race for a majority of the delegates.
One obligation that is attached to historical recollection as a reason for current behavior is to get it right. Dimmed memory or inaccurate assumptions, no matter how widespread, are not acceptable from a presidential candidate who prides herself on being ready, wise, and honest.
I worked for Vice President Hubert Humphrey and was with him at the Air Force Academy the night that Bobby Kennedy was shot. As soon as he heard the news, he was on the phone talking to Kennedy aides in Los Angeles. Soon after his first call, Pierre Salinger called back to ask his help in getting an Air Force jet to fly a neurosurgeon from Boston.
Humphrey called the Pentagon and when he told the duty officer what he wanted, the officer asked, “Sir, under what authority are you ordering this plane?” Humphrey shouted, “I am Vice Commander- in-Chief!” It was an office that did not exist, but it worked. He got the jet and the doctor into the air. Humphrey was bereft at what had happened and took absolutely no pleasure in the ease he would now have in being nominated for president.
The results of that ugly night had immense impact on the race but not the one implied by Senator Clinton. When she recalls these tragic events, it is with the assumption that Kennedy was ahead of Humphrey at the time and his death made it possible for Humphrey to win the nomination. In fact, Kennedy was not ahead and almost certainly would have lost in Chicago. But his death made it even more difficult for Humphrey to win the general election against Richard Nixon.
In 1960 during the primaries when Humphrey lost the nomination to John Kennedy, Humphrey had grown to dislike Robert Kennedy. The rivalry between Humphrey and the Kennedys was intense, but civil, and Humphrey over the years had overcome his anger. Humphrey had also remained close to Kennedy’s two chief political strategists, Larry O’Brien and Ken O’Donnell, carry-overs from the Kennedy White House.
Humphrey wrote in his 1976 memoir, “In May, O’Donnell came to my Washington apartment for breakfast and to talk about the campaign. He told me that he had come at Bob Kennedy’s direction, with the explicit message that Kennedy had no animosity toward me and that his problem was solely with Lyndon Johnson. Ken said he hoped I would withdraw from the race, and I said, of course, that I couldn’t.”
Humphrey also wrote then, “Kenny indicated that if Bob did not do well in California, he would pull out and support me. Whether this was still the case in June, less than a month later, I did not know, but I have no reason to doubt it, particularly in light of their views of Gene McCarthy.”
“Could Bob have gotten the nomination had he lived? Many journalists and some politicians have indicated that they think so. I think they are wrong. When we met head-on in state convention fights (in Pennsylvania,Vermont, Idaho, and Iowa), I won.”
Humphrey had the certain, but non-public, commitment from what are equivalent to today’s “superdelegates”—the party’s recognized leaders—in addition to those delegates he had won. For example, a majority of the 24 Democratic governors supported him, along with, according to Gallup, 70 percent of Democratic county chairmen who often influenced the selection of delegates from their counties. In 1968, a majority of convention delegates were chosen by state conventions, not primaries. Humphrey had not entered any primaries, having announced his candidacy late in April. That saved energy, money we did not have, and avoided any chance of embarrassment.
We were comfortably certain of victory, as much as anyone could be against a Kennedy. Beyond delegates, opinion polls at the time had Humphrey clearly in the lead among all Democrats. Gallup in May had Humphrey at 40, Kennedy at 31, and McCarthy at 19. Harris Poll results at the same time were Humphrey 38, Kennedy 27, and McCarthy 25. In both polls there were only 10 percent undecided.
Bobby Kennedy knew before the California primary that there was no way for him to catch up and wrest the nomination from Humphrey. Indeed, Newsweek magazine said that Humphrey was only 32.5 delegates short of a majority.
On the first ballot at the convention held in late August, Humphrey drew 1,760 votes (with 1,312 needed for the nomination). A survey by the New York Times in late June indicated that approximately 400 Kennedy delegates intended to vote for Humphrey. Even without the Kennedy votes, Humphrey had a majority.
The idea that Bobby would have been the nominee is simply a popular myth, gaining strength as the years have gone by. Losing presidential candidates like Humphrey recede into the mists of ancient history, forgotten names of forgotten accomplishments. What is not myth is the mutual commitment made by Humphrey and Kennedy to support the other, regardless of who emerged the victor. Given the extreme closeness of the 1968 presidential election (Humphrey lost the popular vote to Nixon by less than a percentage point), it is extremely likely Robert Kennedy’s active support, unlike the tepid backing provided by Lyndon Johnson and Eugene McCarthy, would have carried Humphrey to victory.
There is a final lesson from 1968: A presidential primary competition does not have to bring out the worst in anyone. Bobby Kennedy was rightfully and notoriously known for his competitive nature, from touch football to presidential politics. He clearly hated to lose, even more than most people. But there was nothing to suggest that he would have carried the political battle on to the convention ignoring reality, delegate commitment, or the needs of the Democratic Party.
I think he found wishful political thinking more than fanciful. He found it self-deluding and thus unacceptable. That is the lesson to be remembered today.