By Ron Capshaw
Monday, February 16, 2015
The act of waving lists to decry an injustice is as old
as the Republic. But when Senator Joseph McCarthy waved his list, almost
exactly 65 years ago, it became much more than the usual political gesture. On
February 9, 1950, during a speech he gave in West Virginia, McCarthy waved a
list of 205 names of men he alleged were “known Communists” — known as such by
Secretary of State Dean Acheson. With this gesture, he worsened an already
panicky situation, gave the angry public a ready-made explanation for why the
country was losing the Cold War, helped foster class divisions in the country,
and dealt anti-Communism a blow from which it did not recover for decades.
At the time McCarthy spoke to the Ohio County Women’s
Republican Club in Wheeling, W. Va., many Americans feared that the U.S. was
losing the Cold War. By 1950, Stalin had invaded Czechoslovakia, controlled
Eastern Europe, and, most chilling of all, had obtained the A-bomb. Citizens
were at a loss as to how the most powerful country in the world could be losing
the conflict.
A common public perception was that the American
government was responsible for this troubling state of affairs. The Yalta
accords, a wartime summit between Roosevelt, Stalin, and Churchill, were already
seen as controversial because of FDR’s apparent willingness to capitulate to
Stalin. (Privately, FDR had said, “I think that if I give Stalin everything I
possibly can and ask for nothing in return, noblesse oblige, he won’t try to
annex anything and will work with me for a world of peace and democracy.”)
Anti-Communists blamed Roosevelt, who was, in the words of Senator Ralph
Flanders, as “soft as taffy on Communism.” They also attributed FDR’s weakness
to his illness (he would die two months later, in April 1945), which a robust
Stalin used to his advantage.
The Alger Hiss case gave credence to both
interpretations. Hiss, a rising State Department official and architect of the
United Nations, was accused of Soviet espionage by his former courier Whittaker
Chambers. Although Hiss for the rest of his life would deny these charges,
Chambers brought forth damning documents he said Hiss had given him that were
in Hiss’s handwriting and that summarized the contents of State Department
cables. After experts confirmed that the handwriting was Hiss’s, Democrats,
initially supportive of Hiss, began to accept Chambers’s charges. Throughout
the case, Hiss didn’t do the Roosevelt administration any favors by wrapping
himself in the New Deal flag.
Those who blamed Stalin for taking advantage of FDR’s
health could now also blame Hiss, who, in one photograph, sat mere inches from
the president at Yalta. (Later information would show that FDR and the new
Secretary of State, Edward Stettinius, often delegated authority to Hiss on
policy questions.) Those who saw Democrats as soft on Communism could point to
the fact that despite warnings about Hiss as early as 1939, the Roosevelt
administration did nothing and continued to boost him up the career ladder.
Those who suspected something more nefarious than mere naïveté about Communism
now had a credible case that the Communists had burrowed into the New Deal
bureaucracy and were the true shapers of events.
The perception among much of the public who watched Hiss
prevaricate, dodge, weave, spin, and misdirect was that only vigorous and
determined anti-Communism — as represented by the House Un-American Activities
Committee, specifically by then-congressman Richard Nixon — could “out” any
Communist spies. In the eyes of the nation, the Democrats had proven themselves
unwilling to investigate their own.
The Left — then and now — argued that the Truman
administration had unleashed “McCarthyism before McCarthy.” Truman’s loyalty
investigations, formed in 1947 to root out Communist influence, and his attacks
on Communism at home and abroad were part of the anti-Communist drive that
helped usher Senator McCarthy into office. Hollywood Stalinist and blacklisted
screenwriter Ring Lardner Jr. spent the rest of his life reminding audiences of
Truman’s pioneering efforts.
During the 1946 Republican Senate primary in Wisconsin,
McCarthy ran against incumbent senator Robert La Follette, heir to a political
dynasty and one of the most esteemed politicians of his era. But La Follette
had been one of the first to warn against Soviet expansionism, and he made
anti-Communism the central issue of his campaign. Wisconsin progressives, such
as those in the Communist-controlled United Electrical, Radio, and Machine
Workers Union (UE), hated La Follette so much for his vocal anti-Communism that
they supported McCarthy in the general election, despite the fact that McCarthy
shared La Follette’s anti-Communism.
The UE union didn’t bother McCarthy once he was in
office, even though he was very friendly to big business. He supported the
Taft-Hartley Act, which restricted the power of labor unions, and fought
against wartime price controls on sugar. This latter stance, plus a $20,000
personal loan from a Pepsi bottling executive, earned him the nickname among
the Senate press corps — who had already named him the “worst senator” — of
“the Pepsi Cola kid.”
With another election coming up and very few
accomplishments to campaign on, McCarthy questioned his staff and the press
about what was the gravy-train issue that year. Told that Communism was the
winning issue, McCarthy drafted the infamous speech in which he accused Acheson
of harboring more than 200 members of the State Department who were known to be
official members of the Communist party. Not content with this accusation of
spying, McCarthy added the charge of elitism, portraying government spies as
Ivy League graduates in high government posts who were betraying the nation
that had given them so much.
After the speech, the tsunami hit. Had he hewed to the
number he gave originally — 205 suspected Communists — he might have disproven
the critics who claimed he was more interested in headlines than in honest
investigation. But within a few weeks, he changed the number numerous times —
to 81, 57, and 10.
Conservatives such as William F. Buckley Jr., even when
defending McCarthy, saw his reckless theatricality deep-six provable cases. He
called Far East expert Owen Lattimore “the top Russian spy in the country,” for
instance. McCarthy should have stuck to describing Lattimore as a fellow
traveler who helped shape State Department policy against Chiang Kai-shek, as
the Tydings Committee (a group of partisan Democrats formed to discredit
McCarthy) grudgingly did.
Not all conservatives supported McCarthy, however, even
from the start. Whittaker Chambers, the chief witness against Alger Hiss and in
many ways the mentor of Richard Nixon and William F. Buckley Jr., refused to
back the senator, calling him “a raven of disaster.” Chambers even echoed the
characterization lodged against McCarthy by the far Left: that he was a budding
Hitler.
Buckley and Chambers disagreed over McCarthy, and Buckley
defended the senator throughout most of his career. Buckley’s 1999 novel The
Redhunter suggested that Buckley supported McCarthy’s investigations, and it
provided one possible explanation for why they had been so ineffective. In one
scene, J. Edgar Hoover summons McCarthy to his office and shows the senator
top-secret documents proving McCarthy’s accusations correct. But because these
documents were intercepted between Moscow and the U.S., the senator could not
cite them without alerting the Russians that the Americans had broken their
code. Such was his sincerity in the fight against Communism that, according to
Buckley’s novel, McCarthy was willing to continue without the hard proof and
patriotically fall on his face.
But in Buckley’s novel, this wasn’t what finally
destroyed McCarthy. The seeds of destruction were planted when the senator
hired legal wunderkind (and prosecutor of the Rosenbergs) Roy Cohn. Buckley
portrayed Cohn as a rampant careerist, interested only in amassing power.
Worse, Cohn used taxpayer money on nightclubs and expensive hotel stays with
staffer G. David Schine, whom many believed to be Cohn’s homosexual lover.
Such was McCarthy’s loyalty to Cohn, that, against advice
from staffers, he supported him even when Cohn was threatening the Army with
punishment for not furloughing the newly drafted Schine. The sheer number of
calls to the Army by Cohn — 47 in two days — led many on the staff to believe
that Cohn was sexually obsessed with Schine. Buckley had his main character
give McCarthy the ultimatum of either accepting his resignation or getting rid
of Cohn. McCarthy stayed the course with Cohn, which led to the disastrous
Army-McCarthy hearings in 1954, in which the Army accused Cohn of coercing the
military to give preferential treatment to Schine, and McCarthy countercharged
that this accusation was retaliation for his investigation of suspected
Communists within the Army’s ranks.
Buckley’s wasn’t the only attempt to explain the senator
via fiction. So, too, did Richard Condon in his Cold War classic The Manchurian
Candidate (1959). Condon took the oft-repeated phrase that liberal
anti-Communists used against McCarthy — he did such damage to the cause of
anti-Communism that “he may as well have been a KGB agent” — and fashioned it
onto the wife of the McCarthy-esque senator. In this telling, the reckless self-destructiveness
of McCarthy’s behavior was intentional and strategic; its purpose was to create
a debilitating climate of fear at home and sever Cold War alliances abroad,
ushering in a Soviet takeover of the United States. Thus, McCarthy’s rapidly changing
numbers, from 205 to 81 to 10 and then back again, were a KGB plot to disorient
the country.
Many factors contributed to the rise of McCarthy. As I
suggested above, some have pointed to the frustration that citizens felt over
the state of the world and the fear of an impending Soviet triumph. Others have
blamed the self-serving tactics of Republicans eager to regain the White House
after a 20-year absence. But rarely mentioned was the behavior of the Hollywood
Ten (a group of screenwriters called to testify before the House Un-American
Activities Committee in 1947) and Hiss. Neither the Hollywood Ten nor Hiss
would ever clarify whether or not they were Communists. The Ten, in particular,
appeared guilty of a conspiracy when they refused to answer questions directly.
The public clearly believed that Hiss was such a liar that he would have
continued to wreck policy had it not been for anti-Communists such as Richard
Nixon.
However we understand the history of anti-Communism, it’s
hard not to see that the Left was complicit in the rise of McCarthy. Some got
him into office, while others in their prevaricating behavior kept him there.
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