Creeping Harmony

The Democratic Party used to be strong on tight organization and spectacular brawls. Last week, at the Democrats' off-year convention in Chicago, organization politics was hardly visible, and there were no brawls.

Cook County's Jack Arvey, last of the big-city-machine bosses, wandered aimlessly around the Conrad Hilton Hotel, his local and national power diminished in the last year. At least, the assembled pols knew Arvey. Most of them did not even recognize Richard Balch, chairman of the once-powerful New York State organization. The voice of labor was muted, too. The C.I.O.'s James Carey and Jack Kroll offered little advice and were asked for less. Representative Franklin D. Roosevelt Jr., who has caused hard feelings with his demands for 100% party loyalty, was not present. Many Southern bigwigs stayed South. Senate Minority Leader Lyndon Johnson, who does not often consult noncongressional Democratic leaders, was in Texas. At the big dinner, Averell Harriman had a seat out in left field, while Estes Kefauver appeared to doze through much of the speechmaking. Neither of these presidential aspirants of 1952 attracted much attention. Harry Truman was there but by no means in charge.

Wait in Peace. Nobody wanted a fight. North and South postponed a showdown on the "loyalty pledge" issue raised at 1952's national convention, and appointed a committee to study the problem. Grinned Missouri's Senator Thomas C. Hennings Jr., on leaving a peaceful Rules Committee meeting: "We are all against the man-eating shark." Adlai Stevenson, with his gift for the precise phrase, described the party's spirit as "creeping harmony."

Voters of both parties are less and less marshaled to the polls by organization. They are attracted by top candidates and issues. Since Stevenson was the Democrats' last presidential candidate, his position at Chicago as the No. 1 Democrat was unchallenged. In or out of Congress, his fellow Democrats might disregard his leadership, but no one else, at this point, was spokesman for the party.

Reporting on his travels, Stevenson obviously intended to sound a sober and eloquent appeal to reason in world affairs.

"The door to the conference room," said Stevenson, "is the door to peace. Let it never be said that America was reluctant to enter." He urged Western leaders to "think afresh" in terms of a European system of "durable assurances of nonaggression" with Russia. About Red China, he was somewhat more specific: "We owe it to ourselves . . . .at least to find out, if we can, what Communist China's ultimate intentions are." He said, "When we negotiate, we have to have something to negotiate with as well as for."

Watch for Trouble. Republican rebuttal was soon forthcoming. Tom Dewey and Michigan Senator Homer Ferguson raised the expected cry of "appeasement." But Adlai Stevenson had not explicitly suggested any concessions to Communism. Truman and Eisenhower had both said that the U.S. would confer with the Soviet leaders if the circumstances offered any chance of progress toward peace. Stevenson's proposal could be read as advocacy of a "softer" approach or it could be read as a restatement of an old U.S. attitude. This ambiguity was appropriate in the leader of a party whose logical course at present is to wait and see what kind of trouble the Republicans get into.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.