Pegler: Democratic Convention Day 2
By Westbrook Pegler
Chicago, Illinois –
The old-line, partisan, American Democrat at this convention is a bewildered and pathetic specimen who has an acute sense, as of a burr in his britches, that he is being played for a gullible fool by a few smart and tricky individuals, but can’t do anything about it.
This refers to Ed Kelly, Frank Hague, Ed Flynn and the machine Democrats of Connecticut, Kansas City and the South, and to Jim Farley, as an individual, as well as the unpretentious little people of the party, as they are often called in the patronizing jargon of their superiors who unmistakably regard themselves as the big people.
It has been several years since anyone with any political knowhow in Chicago believed that the working arrangement between Mayor Kelly and President Roosevelt was anything more than a practical, political deal and sordid on both sides.
Not even personally are they compatible, as politicians often are, who, nevertheless, fight one another at every turn in the spirit of a rough, and often painful, but sporting game. Kelly is a machine man whose machine has gears and wires and conduits reaching down into the underworld of handbooks and union rackets and tapping the rake-off on government contracts and legal handouts from the federal courts to politically deserving lawyers.
He is what he is, and he has never pretended to be a social worker, a bleeding heart or a statesman of world vision. It was Kelly who so to speak, drew a deadline with his toe across a sooty suburban field on a sunny Memorial Day a few years ago, dared the Communist labor leaders to cross it as they had during their successful reign of terror in Ohio and Michigan.
And when they did cross it, smashed the challenge to the authority of government, with a toll of a dozen lives. Capt. Mooney, of his police department, took the immediate responsibility and the main blow of the abuse, but he acted on Ed Kelly’s authority. Kelly upheld him, and the challenge has never been repeated in Chicago.
Their opposition to Wallace political
Kelly, like Hague in New Jersey, remains the boss in Chicago and he is running the festivities and arrangements of the actual convention. Like the rest of the old-style machine bosses, he is concerned only with his own interests in his own jurisdiction and, like them, he ignores the old sneers, now expediently silenced, of the poseurs and ideologists of the New Deal, about the uncouthness of his political character and his methods.
If such men as Kelly and Hague opposed Henry Wallace, however, their decision was strictly political, not personal or philosophical. Their function is to get out the votes and elect the ticket and all the machine politicians who have turned down Wallace did so only because they believed he would be dead weight.
But actually, it may be seriously doubted that, when they enter their polling booths next fall, they will personally vote for President.
There are many less prominent Democrats at this convention who reveal an inner doubt and fear of the future should their own party win again. They try to balance in their minds the glib catalog of New Deal achievements compiled a few months ago by Senator Alben Barkley of Kentucky, to take the sting out of his furious denunciation of President Roosevelt in the tax law dispute, and find it alarmingly outweighed by invasions of their freedom.
Something is coming
If Roosevelt gave unions the right to bargain with employers, he also robbed the people, who, after all, are the true, living body of American labor, of their right to work without submitting themselves to the private codes, laws and taxing powers of the unions and to their brutal, erratic and overbearing discipline.
Moreover, these Americans, even Kelly and Hague and the little people wearing the badges, know that nowadays, under pretext of the war emergency but without authority in law, Mr. Roosevelt has decreed that no American male civilian may take a new job in any line, whatever, except by permission of the United States Employment Service.
Here they find a furtive and mysterious stranger, Sidney Hillman, a continental ideologist, holding forth in an official political command post as boss of the Political Action Committee of the CIO, which is largely composed of New York Communists, and issuing decrees to their own party’s convention, issuing decrees to them, with the blessing of the President and Mrs. Roosevelt.
These bosses and little people of the Democratic Party do not know Sidney Hillman or accept his authority or leadership and, though they may play out the game in the big hall for lack of any alternative, they will not necessarily go home pleased or confident.
They may be superficially impressed by the personal presence of ostentatious, pushful nightclub celebrities from New York, billed as authors and thinkers and “glamorous” Hollywood personalities, but that need not mean that they will accept them and Hillman as eminent Americans, qualified to rule their old Democratic Party and regulate their employment, their earnings and lives, and rule their country as counselors of government for four years.
Hillman! In God’s name, how came this non-toiling, sedentary conspirator who never held American office or worked in the Democratic organization, to give orders to the Democrats of the United States?
Something is cooking at this strange convention and it may turn out to be a mess.
