The Trial of Judge Smith

Howard Worth Smith of Virginia has followed with unsurpassed fidelity the formula of Southern political success that starts an ambitious young man in the statehouse or courthouse, then sends him up to Congress to husband seniority and power. After eight years on the bench he was elected to the House in 1930; he is still there today, still known universally as Judge Smith.

It is also universally known that in the changing political climate of the South, virtually no Congressman is safe from challenge in his home district. Thus last week Judge Smith, bent and slightly hard of hearing at 83, was forced to campaign for the Democratic nomination in the July 12 primary. Always a candidate but rarely a combatant, he has not had to hustle for primary votes since 1938, when F.D.R. set out to "purge" the balky conservative. Smith won that contest, 3 to 1.

"Campaign as Usual." If Smith is not exactly running scared, he is at least traveling concerned. He has hired a publicity man. He is appearing at local events such as the recent Purcellville Volunteer Fire Department carnival parade, which he threatened to leave unless given a seat in the lead car. He got his way. And he is dropping in on teas and barbecues. At one such gathering last week, Smith sipped ice water and gave his usual folksy, good-humored pitch. "I have no speech," he told 25 people in a mosquito-ridden Alexandria backyard. "I'm going to conduct the same campaign as usual. I don't believe in the vilification of my opponent. But don't believe everything you read in the newspapers, certainly not everything my opponent says. I'm not a yes man, not a rubber stamp."

Judge Smith's opponent is Fredericksburg Attorney George C. Rawlings Jr., 44, a member of the legislature and a liberal by Virginia standards. Rawlings, who supports the Johnson Administration on most issues, has been racing tirelessly around the district since April. Rawlings attacks Smith as "Public Enemy No. 1 of the working man," a Representative "who has opposed more progressive legislation than any other Democrat or Republican in the entire history of Congress."

Foxy Grandpa. Smith's power spans a generation. He authored the 1940 Smith Act, under which Communist Party leaders were prosecuted and convicted, and other important legislation. His apogee was between 1955 and 1961 when, as chairman, he had absolute control over the Rules Committee, and the committee often had decisive influence over the fate of bills. Smith repeatedly used that strength with great skill to block, dilute or delay social welfare legislation and civil rights bills. Though he kept the chairmanship his authority crumbled when John Kennedy and House Speaker Sam Rayburn succeeded in adding anti-Smith members to the committee. Smith also lost influence as the House grew more liberal.

And he is the victim of changes at home. The civil rights movement and the end of the poll tax are adding Negroes to the voting rolls, while the old Harry Byrd machine, of which Smith is a prize cog, faces attack from all sides. Smith's district has been reapportioned to his disadvantage since the last election, now includes a large segment of liberally inclined Fairfax County, a suburb of Washington. Nonetheless, Smith's cause, like his equanimity, is far from lost. Much of the district is still rural and conservative, and there is considerable affection for the Bible-quoting, foxy grandpa who still cautions, as he has for years: "It's dangerous to send a boy to the mill."

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