Articles/Essays – Volume 04, No. 2

Pilgrim’s Progress: George Romney and the Presidential Campaign of 1968 | T. George Harris, Romney’s Way: A Man and an Idea

One of the certain harbingers of a presidential election year is the spate of campaign biographies about the major combatants. In fact, the publication of such books seems to be the sine qua non of belligerent status for the candidates. Thus, the pre-convention publication of T. George Harris’ biography, Romney’s Way, confirmed the seriousness of the Governor’s intentions, if any doubt had remained. For the first time in American history, a Latter-day Saint was not only a serious contender for the Presidency, he also had a reasonable chance of election if he managed to obtain the nomination. Therefore, that particular campaign biography had a more than usual historical significance. 

Campaign biographies usually fall into one of three general categories. First, there are the “authorized” biographies which canonize the candidate for the faithful. Second, there are the “hatchet” biographies which are demonologies detailing every scurrilous fact about a candidate that can be unearthed, implied, or invented. Finally, there are those biographies written to meet the public demand for information about the various candidates. Happily, the Harris book falls into the last category, except for an occasional lapse into admiration. It is a witty, intelligent, perceptive book, and it is a pleasure to read. 

The strongest feature of the book is that it manages to convey what it means to have grown up in a Mormon environment, a task that eludes most non-Mormon commentators.[1] Romney sometimes created problems for himself with press and public because some of his solutions for contemporary problems seemed a bit naive. What the critics failed to understand was that Romney not only believed deeply in what he said, but that he has seen most of his proposals work effectively in the Mormon communities of his youth. Taken in that context, his continual references to such things as the importance of the family, or the value and utility of citizen involvement in community programs, were not just campaign oratory—they were honest statements about real problems and workable solutions. Harris manages to convince all but the most obdurate readers of Romney’s sincerity by giving them a feeling for “growing up Mormon.” 

The weaknesses of the book are relatively minor. The author has a most humorous writing style, and he often gets off some hilarious one-liners.[2] However, he overplays his hand a few times, and the quips get a bit taste less—one reference to “Mormon long Johns” is more than enough, let alone a whole chapter on them. Also, on rare occasions, his prose gets a bit “inspirational,” especially when writing about family matters. Finally, his handling of L.D.S. theology is weak—but much to his credit, he acknowledges his difficulties and does not lean too heavily upon his own interpretations.[3]

In summary, the book is an excellent example of the best of its genre—a perceptive and useful volume well worth reading. It was one of the better things to happen to the Romney campaign during an otherwise dreary period, and it is a shame that it was not used more effectively. 

After reading Harris’ book, one is compelled to ask why a campaign that started out with such excellent prospects failed to maintain momentum and ended so ignominiously. George Romney had been an excellent governor with a substantial record of achievement behind him. Taking that record into consideration, there was good reason to believe he would have been a good, possibly even a great President (an opinion this reviewer still holds). In addition, his campaigns for the gubernatorial chair had been vigorous, exciting, and successful. Yet the national surveys that counterpointed his progress toward the presidential nomination recorded his steady decline in popularity. To the outside observer, his pre-convention campaign appeared to be clumsy and inept. Therefore, it is only reasonable to ask why the sure ness of his previous political campaigns was not transferred to his presidential campaign. 

A presidential campaign is waged within a complex socio-political environment, and such contests are governed by political rules shaped by that distinctive environment. Any candidate serious about victory must conform his campaign to those somewhat constant necessities.[4] The Romney organization apparently miscalculated when they selected the means by which their candidate would seek the Republican nomination for the Presidency. More specifically, there seemed to be three major problems: the ineffective use of available talent; an ineffective strategy for securing the nomination, and a failure to present the correct image of the candidate. 

To begin, the Romney campaign was headed by Leonard W. Hall,[5] one of the Republican Party’s most prominent campaign managers. In addition, it had a team of campaign research specialists headed by a brilliant young political scientist, Dr. Walter De Vries.[6] Both of these men were immensely able, as were the other top decision-makers. But a presidential campaign is a huge operation, eventually involving millions of dollars and thousands of people. The managers of such a campaign may have great practical experience, excellent ideas, and the most honorable intentions in the world, but since the operation is invariably so large and the organization is generally jury-rigged, breakdowns are inevitable. Unfortunately, the Romney campaign seemed to have more than its share of organizational problems. It seemed to many observers that there were two separate campaign organizations trying to direct the progress of one candidate, which created a decisional impasse at times. Thus, at several critical periods, there was difficulty in getting quick decisions from the organization which caused some serious problems. 

To illustrate, one of the most serious losses occurred early in the campaign when Romney lost the chance to obtain the services of Dr. Gaylord Parkinson. The San Diego physician had served brilliantly as Chairman of the Republican State Central Committee of California from 1964 to 1967, and as Chairman of the National Conference of Republican State Chairmen. He is regarded in informed circles as one of the most able campaign managers in the nation. At the end of his term as State Chairman, Dr. Parkinson decided to serve in a professional campaign capacity through the 1968 election.Needless to say, he had many offers. He had been impressed with Governor Romney and indicated his willingness to consider a high-level position in the campaign organization. For some reason, the Romney organization delayed their decision until Dr. Parkinson could wait no longer, and he accepted an offer to head the entire Nixon campaign. (Due to a serious family illness, however, Dr. Parkinson had to resign his chairmanship of the Nixon campaign.) No candidate seriously interested in victory can afford to lose the abilities of such a man, especially when there was no apparent need for the loss. In this reviewer’s opinion, given the events prior to the election, had Dr. Parkinson been persuaded and able to run the campaign, George Romney would now be President of the United States. That was the most spectacular example, but there are numerous other examples of the failure of the Romney organization to take advantage of the talent available to it, much to the detriment of the candidate. 

The campaign was further weakened by the failure to pursue the most efficient strategy for obtaining the presidential nomination. Governor Romney was an indefatigable campaigner, and he had demonstrated the breadth of his political coattails when he gave invaluable support to Senator Robert Griffin (R-Mich.) in a 1966 Senate race that seemed hopeless for the Republican Party. He had also demonstrated the ability to come from behind in a major campaign. However, those attributes had mostly been demonstrated in campaigns for office. A campaign for a party’s presidential nomination requires somewhat different strategies, and in that area the Romney campaign was ineffective. Romney’s managers would have been well advised to have studied Senator Barry Goldwater’s extremely successful campaign for the Republican presidential nomination in 1964. Of course, once the nomination was in hand, the Goldwater organization seemed unable to shift gears and develop an effective strategy for winning the election.[7] Ironically, Romney’s problem was just the opposite—his organization bogged down in the campaign for the nomination, while it is very likely that had he received the nomination, he would have run a highly effective campaign for the office. 

As one example, too much emphasis was placed upon winning primary elections and insufficient emphasis was placed upon negotiating for convention votes. Nominations generally are not won by winning presidential primaries, although there are some notable exceptions. Winning primaries can be helpful to a candidate, while losing is a disaster. Hence, primaries are risk ventures without much political gain for the victors, as the late Senator Estes Kefauver learned.[8] They cannot be ignored, of course, but efforts there must be backed up with substantial efforts to secure convention votes in those states that select delegates in ways other than primary elections. Obviously a presidential nomination is won by obtaining a majority of the delegate votes at the national convention. Even if a candidate wins all the primary elections, he still wouldn’t have sufficient votes to win the nomination. Therefore, a major pre-convention strategy must be to gain the sup port of as many delegates as possible. Undoubtedly the Romney organization made efforts in that direction, but they evidently didn’t start early enough and thus their effort was inadequate. 

The techniques that should have been used have been one of the hall marks of Richard M. Nixon’s campaigns for nomination. For instance, in 1960 nearly every Republican party official in the country, from the local level on up, had been legitimately aided in some way by Nixon. For the previous eight years he had covered the entire country speaking on behalf of, and working for, party personnel in every conceivable valid cause. As a result, Nixon held outstanding political IOU’s from the majority of the party leaders across the country—most of whom either went to the National Convention or were instrumental in choosing the delegates. As a result, Governor Nelson Rockefeller’s bid for the nomination in 1960 was realistically doomed from the outset, regardless of how well he fared in the presidential primary elections. 

By 1964 those same necessary and legitimate political chores had been shouldered, for the most part, by Senator Barry Goldwater, and when it came time for the Republican National Convention of 1964, he was virtually assured the nomination. He had effectively won the loyalties of a majority of the delegates through his indefatigable efforts on behalf of state and local party organizations. When Goldwater lost the election, the job of chief poli tical yeoman was vacant. It was filled again by Richard Nixon, with obviously successful results. The puzzling question is why George Romney did not move into the position left vacant by Senator Goldwater’s withdrawal. Admittedly, he would have run head on to Mr. Nixon, but that clash was inevitable anyway. If the Governor had taken on those political chores with his characteristic energy, the chances for his nomination would have been significantly improved. Unfortunately, the decision was made to leave the field to the Nixon forces. That mistake was apparently compounded during the last months before the convention, when no significant efforts were made for some of the key delegations. 

For example, no obvious effort was made for the California delegation. Governor Reagan had announced as the “favorite son” candidate to the Convention, which ruled out a primary contest. However, it did not rule out a careful, but intensive, effort to win the support of the delegates and the party leadership in California for the second ballot. Polls taken in California before the Primary election showed a majority of Republicans actually de sired a contested primary, in which they could express preferences for the party’s nominee. The Republican Party was ready for a determined effort, and there were a number of influential and capable party activists, committed to Governor Romney, who were willing to make that effort. For some reason, almost nothing was done. In fact, Governor Romney had some major political fence-mending to do in California, and since it is the most populous state in the Union, it seems reasonable that some sort of an effort should have been made. If the campaigns for delegates in other states were’ conducted in a similar fashion, there can be little doubt why Governor Romney felt he had to withdraw. 

Finally, the Romney organization allowed their candidate to be labeled with an unwarranted and incorrect public image. He emerged from too many press accounts as a quixotic Babbitt with a straight-arrow philosophy and a cracker-barrel full of Horatio Algerisms, which is about as incorrect an image as could be imagined. If anything, Romney is an exceedingly energetic, well-informed, and realistic man. Admittedly, the media personnel may not have given him a fair deal, but it was the responsibility of his campaign managers to offset that. Newsmen are a hard fact of life in politics,[9] just as starving wolves are a fact of life on the tundra, and just as an arctic venturer must be well prepared to deal with the wolves, so a candidate must be well prepared to deal with the representatives of the mass media. Media personnel are usually (but not always) dedicated professionals who perform some of the most vital functions necessary for a free political system. In order to do that job, they must often be rough and skeptical, and it is the responsibility of a candidate’s managers to prepare for the onslaught. Governor Romney came out on the losing end of too many of those encounters, and it was evident that the media personnel did not see the real man. His campaign organization must bear some of the responsibility for that “com munications gap.” 

For instance, little effective use was made of the fact that Romney is a tough, courageous man. It has always been his practice to meet problems head-on, regardless of the personal consequences to himself. He was at his best when in dialogue with young Negro militants in Watts or speaking to hostile Republican audiences in Arizona. Such characteristics are much ad mired by the American electorate and usually bring favorable responses from most media. It was a major tragedy of that abortive campaign that the public did not see the real man with sufficient clarity. 

Another aspect of the same problem was that the Governor seemed to be constantly in hot water because of some public statement. Unfortunately, Romney’s language got a bit routine at times—Harris termed it “Rotarian Gothic”—and thus reporters were a bit more inclined to give undue prom inence to a seemingly controversial statement. Also, since politics is such a competitive enterprise, a slip of the tongue (i.e. “brainwashing”)[10] is seldom forgiven or forgotten, and if the media do not keep it afloat, the opposition certainly will. However, other politicians have had the same problem, and it has not noticeably impeded their progress. Often, the candid admission that one has put his foot in his mouth will close the issue on a note of good humor—a technique well used during the camgaign by Governor Spiro T. Agnew. Evidently, Governor Romney did not receive the best advice in this area, since throughout his campaign he was often driven into verbal corners. 

To a certain extent, Governor Romney’s religion worked against him. Since the election of President John F. Kennedy, many political commentators have laid religious bias, as a factor in national elections, to rest. The funeral was premature. Religion played an important role in the 1960 election, and it is estimated that Kennedy lost more than he gained because of his Catholicism.[11] Little or no research has been done on the attitudes of the national electorate to the Mormon religion, but it would obviously offend some major segments of the population, which in a close election could mean the margin for victory. One illustration should suffice: The position of the L.D.S. Church on the Negro would have hurt Romney. So much has been written on the subject that there is little need to go into it here.[12] Much to his credit, Governor Romney had managed to deal effectively with the issue in Michigan, and presumably he would have used the same approach to the national electorate. However, the size and diversity of that constituency would have magnified the problem, and many people would have made up their minds before they heard Romney’s position. The Church position would have enraged black militants, alienated Negroes in general, and offended white liberals, while attracting racial bigots (for the wrong reasons)—an exchange of extremely dubious value and one that Romney would have repudiated. As governor, Romney had compiled a most admirable civil rights record which would have offset some of the adverse publicity. It probably wouldn’t have been enough, however. The L.D.S. Church would have been pilloried in headlines across the country, and Governor Romney would have undoubtedly come to the defense of his Church, which would have lost him some votes. 

On the other hand, the popular identification of some of those prominent in Mormon affairs with right-wing political positions would have probably been an asset rather than a liability. It would have provided Romney with a very useful counterfoil, since he could have publicly disagreed with those political views. In that way, he could have made it doubly clear to any racists who were trying to leap aboard his bandwagon that he wanted nothing to do with them, since most of them tend to hold right-wing political views. In addition, it would have allowed him to demonstrate his political (as distinguished from spiritual) independence from Church control. Voters are rightly sensitive to any implication that their President might be politically influenced by the leadership of his church. The relationship between a member and the President of the L.D.S. Church is a bit difficult to explain to most people. In addition, L.D.S. Church leaders have a habit of issuing political position papers. Senator John Kennedy was faced with a version of the same problem during the 1960 campaign: what would he do if given a political directive by the Vatican. Kennedy stated his position in a well reasoned address before a gathering of Protestant leaders in Texas. In essence, he said he would do what he thought best for the country even if it 

went against the wishes of his church. Governor Romney had stated a position somewhat similar (and Harris wrote about it), but he would have needed every opportunity he could get to re-emphasize his stand. Therefore, it would have been to his advantage to publicly disavow the right-wing political opinions of some of his prominent co-religionists, without touching their religious views. 

Such speculation could continue for pages, but it should be apparent by now that Governor Romney had all the essential ingredients for a successful presidential campaign, but that those ingredients could not be used because the campaign for the nomination was so ineffective. That George Romney failed in his bid for the Republican presidential nomination is now incidental to a more basic question: do Mormon politicians in high political offices have anything distinctive to offer the American electorate? In my opinion, they can make an extremely important contribution if they have the right combination of political orientation and religious commitment. George Romney had that combination which makes his defeat even more unfortunate. 

Let me approach this discussion in a somewhat round about manner. To begin, there is significant unrest and dissatisfaction among the American people. During the past campaign, Dr. George Gallup reported that public cynicism and dissatisfaction was the highest he had found in thirty-two years of doing survey research. The causes of that discontent are numerous, and the problem of dealing with them is complicated by our overwhelming pre occupation with the Vietnamese War. While we are nationally divided over the War, most of the other wars we have fought have also split the nation. Without minimizing the agony of the divisive war, the root causes of our national discontent lie elsewhere. Put as succintly as possible, the causes lie in the public confusion over national goals. For some reason, our national values no longer seem relevant to the demands of a rapidly changing world. Specifically, most of our present political goals were articulated during the New Deal, to meet the needs of that era. However, most of them have been reached and we are now confronted with the great need to articulate new and realistic political goals. 

One of the basic facts of life in all political systems is the periodic occurrence of critical periods when a reformation of national political values is absolutely necessary. In this reviewer’s opinion, we are in one of those critical periods right now. In the United States, such rearticulations have most often occurred during, and immediately after, certain critical presidential elections, when candidates and the newly elected are free to (and required to) speak out. Needless to say, such elections are of more than ordinary importance, since massive realignments of partisan loyalties also take place. Such elections have been termed “realigning elections.”[13] To illustrate, the presidential election of 1932 is considered a classic election of re alignment. The Great Depression had produced massive national unrest and the painful awareness that new and more realistic political goals were urgently needed. In conjunction with the substantive programs designed to alleviate the distress caused by the Depression, the years immediately follow ing the 1932 election witnessed a major restatement of our national goals. The task of rearticulation, for the most part, fell to the politicians—particularly, the Democratic leadership. The values articulated during the New Deal served as the basis for the coalition of voters that have made the years since an era of Democratic dominance. The evidence indicates that we desperately need a new set of national goals that correspond to the needs of this age. One of the reasons the 1968 presidential campaign was so fraught with emo tion (although the actual campaign was rather dull) was that it should have been a realigning election. The greatest service George Romney would have performed, had he been the candidate, would have been that of the articulation of new national goals. 

There are principles within the Mormon culture that could be of great value to the American people. Among other things are the feelings about the importance of family solidarity and the value of the sense of community stemming from co-operative effort. These are attitudes directly relevant to the problems of alienation in urban ghettos, for instance. If they could be transposed into realistic political programs, those programs would be extremely useful in solving many urban problems. George Romney had created such programs out of his peculiar blend of Mormon heritage and urban-liberal political orientation. Carried further, out of such commitments could have been born relevant political goals which could have carried the United States through the difficult times facing us now and in the im mediate future. No small part of such a program of realignment would be the ability to capture people’s imagination and gain their commitment. Romney proved that he could do just that, given the right topic. He was famous (or infamous) for his “speech” on the dangers of the decline of the American family and the importance of close family association as the foundation for communal political involvement. Some newsmen poked fun at him for that speech, and yet some version of that theme, among all of his speeches, elicited the most enthusiastic responses from the crowds. Obviously, the success stemmed from the fact that it was addressed to a recognized societal problem. Most of us are aware that old familial commitments are dis solving and that in a large and depersonalized society the decline of family leaves us terribly alone and with no place to turn for close and meaningful relationships. When Governor Romney proposed solutions to that problem by stating new values (or old values in a modern context) the response was overwhelming. 

There are other examples, but in essence Romney’s most important contribution was his ability to translate the old values of community involvement, familial solidarity, and personal honesty into a modern political re statement that made them relevant and realizable in our seemingly value less time. The tragedy of 1968 was that no one attempted this needed rearticulation. Perhaps President Nixon and his political colleagues will do the job—if they don’t, we can expect more turmoil, more disillusionment, and more groping. Conditions would then continue to stagnate until the election of 1972, which could be even more wrenching than the election of 1968. So there was more riding with George Romney in 1968 than his ambitions, and the need for his success far transcended the desires of his supporters to see him win. It is essential that new and realistic political goals be articulated, and Romney was among the men best qualified to do just that. 

Unfortunately, there do not seem to be any heirs-apparent among the ranks of Mormon politicians. Most of them are either restricted by age, or bogged down in an honest but obsolescent pioneer conservatism, or are too deeply imbued with the eschatological view that the world has to be held together only long enough to get it into the Millennium. Therefore, if we await a spokesman from the Mormon culture, it will take time for some of the younger politicians with the Romney orientation to move into the wings—and we may not have that much time to spare. 

In an era that desperately needs the best men the country has to offer, George Romney would have been an outstanding President. Those of us who had high hopes for his Presidency now can only hope that his influence as a Cabinet member will be strongly felt in the White House.

Romney’s Way: A Man and an Idea. By T. George Harris. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, Inc., 1967. Pp. 288. $5.95. 


Reviewer’s note: 

At the beginning of the 1968 Presidential campaign the book review editor of DIALOGUE asked me to review a recently published biography of Governor George W. Romney, who was at the time a leading contender for the Republican presidential nomination. The review had just been completed when Governor Romney withdrew from the race, just before the New Hampshire Primary. As a result, the essay was returned with the request that it be revised to include some speculations as to why the Governor left the lists. The revisions were completed and the review mailed in, but before it could be published, the competition for the Republican nomination heated up again, with a faint possibility that the Convention might deadlock and turn to Romney as the compromise candidate. During that period, the review remained in limbo and then disappeared from sight during the campaign. Then, after the election, it was resurrected and returned again, prefaced by a request for some retrospective analysis. Since George Romney’s appointment to the Cabinet, that biography has gained renewed significance, and after another rereading I find that it is every bit as useful as I had originally believed. 

[1] It would be inefficient to cite all the examples, since it would involve quoting the first few chapters verbatim. However, one passage was particularly evocative for this reviewer. Harris’ description of street-meeting in the British Mission (especially at Hyde Park Corner) caught the essential feeling of those excellent experiences. Harris, pp. 79 ff. 

[2] My favorite: “Salt Lake addresses read like map co-ordinates.” 

[3] He comments in a footnote: “To the outsider, the primary assertions of any religion, even the secular brands, seem quite incredible, though less so than the universe all seek to explain.” Harris, p. 77 fn.

[4] An interesting and informative paperback book about the complexities of presidential campaigns is by Nelson W. Polsby and Aaron B. Wildavsky, Presidential Elections: Strategies of American Electoral Politics (2nd ed.; New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1968). 

[5] Leonard Hall is a past Chairman of the Republican National Committee, with a long record of distinguished service to the Republican Party. He must be ranked among the more influential Republicans in his party’s circles. 

[6] The organization developed by Dr. DeVries was modern, inventive and highly effective. Harris, pp. 277ff.

[7] See the following paperback books: John H. Kessel, The Goldwater Coalition: Republican Strategies in 1964 (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1968); Karl A. Lamb and Paul A. Smith, Campaign Decision-Making: The Presidential Election of 1964 (Belmont, Calif.: Wadsworth Publishing Company, 1968); Bernard Cosman and Robert J. Huckshorn (eds.), Republican Politics: The 1964 Campaign and Its Aftermaths for the Party (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, Publisher, 1968). 

[8] A useful paperback about primary elections is by James W. Davis, Presidential Primaries: Road to the White House (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, Company, 1967).

[9] The following paperbacks are useful: William L. Rivers, The Opinion Makers: The Washington Press Corps (Boston: Beacon Press, 1967); Bernard Rubin, Political Television (Belmont, Cal.: Wadsworth Publishing Company, 1967); Melvin L. De Fleur, Theories of Mass Communication (New York: David McKay Company, Inc., 1966). 

[10] The Governor argued that the press did not, on the whole, treat him fairly concerning his use of the term “brainwashing.” He was correct. However, the press always probes for the politicians’ weak spots and exploits them when they are found. Although one’s friends may be severely gored, one’s political enemies are also similarly exposed. The electorate has the right to know how a candidate will respond to such pressures, and in a world where so much depends upon the ability to retain one’s temper when severely tried, the media personnel do us all great service when they press such attacks with great vigor. 

[11] The net loss was estimated at 2.2%. Philip E. Converse, Angus Campbell, Warren E. Miller, and Donald E. Stokes, “Stability and Change in 1960: A Reinstating Election,” American Political Science Review, LV (June, 1961) 278. 

[12] Harris dealt with the problem in his book, concluding with the pertinent observation: “If [Romney’s] one purpose in life were to be removal of the L.D.S. racial barrier, he could not have improved upon his moves to date. By being as faithful and orthodox as any conservative, and refusing to save himself politically by blasting the church, he has forced Mormons themselves to face the squalor of their built-in bias against black people.” Harris, p. 208.

[13] A complete statement of this classification scheme will be found in Angus Campbell, et al., Elections and the Political Order (New York: John Wiley and Sons, Inc., 1966), especially Chapter 4, “A Classification of Presidential Elections.”