On election night in 1964 it was clear that the times were changing, but it was less clear how.
The results presented one of the strangest maps in the history of presidential elections. As in 1932, the election that ushered in the generation-old New Deal Democratic majority, the Democratic nominee lost only six states to his Republican opponent. In 1932 the six states that Republican president Herbert Hoover carried against Gov. Franklin D. Roosevelt of New York were all in the Northeast: Connecticut, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Hampshire, Maine, and Vermont. Thirty-two years later, the Northeast was Republican presidential nominee Barry Goldwaterâs worst region. Aside from his home state of Arizona, Senator Goldwater carried only the five states that constituted the Deep South, the region with the nationâs largest African American population but also, because blacks were still substantially disenfranchised, an almost monochromatically white electorate. Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Georgia, and South Carolina, states in which Hoover had averaged 7 percent of the vote in 1932, voted overwhelmingly for Goldwater. As recently as 1960, except for South Carolina, all of the Deep South states that Goldwater carried were among Republican nominee Richard Nixonâs least successful states, and the vice president lost all five of them to his Democratic rival, Sen. John F. Kennedy of Massachusetts, or to independent conservative Democratic electors.
The Republicansâ success in 1964 was regional, but that of the Democrats was national. The ticket of incumbent Lyndon B. Johnson for president and Sen. Hubert H. Humphrey of Minnesota for vice president prevailed in forty-five states with 486 electoral votes, including nine states that no Democrat since FDR had carried and one, Vermont, that no Democrat had ever carried. Johnson won 61.1 percent of the national popular vote, exceeding Rooseveltâs previous record of 60.8 percent in 1936. His partyâs national sweep extended to a thirty-seven-seat gain in the House of Representatives, increasing the Democratsâ 82-seat majority to 155. Even their one-seat increase in the Senate was a triumph. Because the party had done so well in the 1958 Senate elections, twenty-six Democratic seats were on the 1964 ballot compared with only nine seats occupied by Republicans. With much more to lose, the Democrats actually won, leaving the Senate, like the House, more than two-thirds Democratic. Nearly all of the new Democrats in both chambers were northern and western liberals, tilting leftward a congressional party that had long been dominated by conservative southerners. Meanwhile, the loss of dozens of moderate-to-liberal Republican members and the gain of seven new conservatives in the Deep Southâthe Republicansâ first representatives from that region since Reconstructionâtilted the congressional GOP rightward.
In an equal and opposite reaction to their gains among Deep South whites in 1964, the Republicans lost the African American vote almost entirely. Just four years before, Nixon had earned the support of 32 percent of black voters. Dwight D. Eisenhower had done even better, earning 39 percent in 1956.1 Although Kennedy introduced what became the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Johnson shepherded it to passage after succeeding to the presidency when Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963, only about three-fifths of House and Senate Democrats voted for the bill, compared with more than four-fifths of congressional Republicans.2 Among the GOP senators opposed to the act, however, was the partyâs candidate for president, whose share of the black vote on Election Day dropped to 6 percent. In fact, while doing well in the Deep South, Goldwater lost the four Outer South states carried by Eisenhower in 1952 and 1956, Nixon in 1960, or by both Republican nominees: Florida, Texas, Virginia, and Tennessee. As for Hooverâs six northeastern states in 1932, they were among Johnsonâs best in 1964, auguring the Northeastâs eventual transformation from the GOPâs strongest region to the Democratsâ main stronghold.
Goldwater ran an ardently ideological campaign, arguably the most conservative of any major party nominee in history. Long a big-tent Republican, who as chair of the National Republican Senatorial Committee in the mid-1950s and early 1960s worked as hard to elect liberal Republicans as conservatives, Goldwater nevertheless made no serious effort to unite all the wings of the party behind him in his presidential campaign. At the GOP nominating convention he insisted on a strongly conservative platform and chose a conservative vice presidential running mate, Rep. William Miller of New York. Defending âextremismâ and attacking âmoderationâ in his acceptance speech, Goldwater told convention and country: âThose who do not care for our cause, we donât expect to join our ranks in any case.â3 Apart from his strong ideological views, Goldwater also frightened many voters with off-the-cuff comments about wanting to âlobâ a nuclear weapon âinto the menâs room of the Kremlinâ and âdrop a low-yield atomic bomb on Chinese supply lines into North Vietnam.â4 Along with William Jennings Bryan in 1896, Tom Wicker observed, Goldwater âwas only the second presidential challenger in history who became the issue.â5
In contrast, Johnson ran a serenely nonideological campaign whose main theme was that he was the safe alternative to a dangerous extremist. âVote to save your Social Security from going down the drain,â Johnson told voters. âVote to keep a prudent hand which will not mash the nuclear button.â6 He used this theme to good effect in uniting labor with management, blacks with whites, women with men, Protestants with Catholics and Jews, young with old, and moderates with liberals. Except for self-identified Republicans, Johnson carried every demographic and political group polled by Gallup.7 Members of the Business Council, who had donated to Republicans over Democrats by 73 to 7 in 1960, broke only 36 to 33 for the GOP in 1964.8 âWeâre in favor of a lot of things and weâre against mighty few,â Johnson said in campaign speeches.9 The New York Herald Tribune was one of many old and staunchly Republican newspapers to endorse a Democratic presidential candidate for the first time. Yet neither Johnson nor the Democratic platform had much to say about what he intended to do if he was elected to a full term. By David Broderâs count, âThe Democratic Platform devoted three times as much space to reciting the accomplishments of the previous four years as to listing the promises of the next four.â10 As a rule, the recitations were specific and the promises general. The result of âfailing to make explicit where he intended to take the country in the next four years,â Robert Dallek has argued, was that âJohnson won less than a solid consensus for bold change in either domestic or foreign affairs.â11
The Democratic sweep was massive: in addition to winning the White House and 363 of 535 seats in Congress, the party gained 540 new state legislative seats and an additional governorship, reducing the number of Republican state chief executives to sixteen. Postelection handwringing immediately ensued among established Republican leaders and political pundits about what the GOP needed to do to survive. âHe has wrecked his party for a long time to come,â wrote New York Times columnist James Reston about Goldwater.12 Another leading political journalist, Robert J. Donovan, foresaw a quarter century of Democratic control of the White House, with Johnson reelected in 1968, Vice President Humphrey succeeding him in 1972 and 1976, and either Sen. Robert F. Kennedy of New York or Sen. Edward M. Kennedy of Massachusetts winning the elections of 1980 and 1984.13 Prominent liberal Republicans, including Gov. Nelson A. Rockefeller of New York and Gov. George Romney of Michigan, felt vindicated by their decision not to endorse Goldwater against Johnson. Rep. John V. Lindsay of New York, speaking for the small group of surviving liberal House Republicans, said they would âhave to rebuild the Republican party out of the ashes . . . to return the party to the tradition of Lincoln.â14
Leading scholars of American politics buttressed the establishment consensus. James MacGregor Burns predicted that, having ceded the nomination once to its rural, retrograde âcongressional party,â the more âurban, liberally oriented presidential Republicansâ would ânot display the fumbling grasp of convention politics in 1968 or 1972 that they had in 1964,â thereby regaining control of the GOP.15 Gerald Pomper even suggested that 1964 was a critical election on the scale of 1896, âthe classical critical contestâ in all of American history and one in which the majority party secured its supremacy for another generation.16 Lending weight to this interpretation was that Goldwaterâs defeat was the GOPâs seventh in the last nine presidential elections. The partyâs only successful nominee, former World War II Supreme Allied Commander Dwight D. Eisenhower, could just as easily have been elected as a Democrat. And despite Ikeâs personal popularity, his partyâs congressional ranks were considerably smaller when his two terms ended than when they began.
Nevertheless Republicans, between conservative Republicans were cheered by Goldwaterâs success at energizing a broad network of grassroots supporters. Nearly four million people worked to elect him in some capacity, and more than a million donated money to his campaign (compared with just 22,000 who donated to Kennedy in 1960). They also were heartened by Goldwaterâs sweep of the Deep South. Except for Louisiana, which voted for Eisenhower in 1956, no Deep South state had gone Republican since Reconstructionâindeed, to the extent that Goldwaterâs electoral map resembled anyoneâs, it was that of the Statesâ Rights Party nominee, Gov. J. Strom Thurmond of South Carolina, in 1948. Goldwater carried all four of Thurmondâs states by margins ranging from 13.6 to 74.2 percentage points, meaning that except for Arkansas and North Carolina, every state in the heretofore solidly Democratic South had gone Republican in at least one recent presidential election. The GOP could now compete in every region, conservative Republicans claimed, which meant they no longer would have to win about 70 percent of the North and West to elect a president or control the House. And, devoted though they were to Goldwater, conservatives also argued that their political philosophy did not receive a fair test in 1964 because most voters perceived their candidate not as a conservative but as an unstable extremist who was âtrigger-happy,â âradical,â and âimpulsiveâshoots from the hip.â17 The messenger may have been flawed, they conceded, but not the message. Goldwater, who had been a reluctant candidate, happily abandoned presidential politics after the election.
Other political figures emerged from the 1964 election with their gaze fixed on 1968 and beyond. Among Democrats these included Johnson and Humphrey, who looked forward to being reelected as a ticket in four years; Robert Kennedy, the slain presidentâs oldest living brother, who was elected to the Senate from New York in 1964; Sen. Eugene McCarthy, Humphreyâs fellow Minnesotan and finalist for the vice presidential nomination; and Gov. George C. Wallace of Alabama, who had run a socially conservative protest campaign against Johnson in three northern primaries and won surprisingly strong support from white working-class Democrats.
Four Republicans rose from the wreckage of their partyâs 1964 defeat in varying states of ambition. Nixon, defeated narrowly for president in 1960 and handily for governor of California in 1962, campaigned ardently for Goldwater against Johnson with an eye toward a possible political comeback. Ronald Reagan, best known as a screen actor, gave a brilliantly effective nationally televised speech for Goldwater a week before the election that raised conservativesâ hopes that he might become the appealing advocate of conservatism that the candidate himself was not. In contrast, Governors Rockefeller and Romney were determined to take back the GOP from the conservatives who hadâtemporarily, they hopedâseized it.
THE DEMOCRATS
In the view from 1964, no Democrat foresaw anything other than a reelection campaign for Johnson and Humphrey in 1968. Kennedy, like Humphrey, had his eye on 1972, when Johnson would be barred by the Twenty-second Amendment from seeking another term. McCarthy, who believed that he, not John Kennedy, should have been the nationâs first Roman Catholic president, reluctantly returned to the Senate, where he was bored and restless. Meanwhile, Wallace resolved to find a way to translate his vote-getting ability as a critic of Democratic liberalism into something bigger.
JOHNSON
Lyndon B. Johnson was a product of the Texas Hill Country west of Austin, where he grew up and spent his first twenty-three years. But he was a creature of Washington and, in particular, of Congress. Johnson had more congressional experience than any other president before or since. Starting in 1931, he spent three years as a House staffer, two years as the Texas director of the New Dealâs job-giving National Youth Administration, eleven years as a House member, and twelve years as a senator. In 1955, after two years as Senate minority leader, he became the youngest and, soon, the most influential majority leader in history when the Democrats regained control of that chamber.
Being from Texas was a burden when Johnson sought the Democratic presidential nomination in 1960. No southerners had been elected president since before the Civil War, largely because their constituents expected them to oppose legislation advancing national causes such as civil rights, labor unions, and business regulation. Johnson did so during his nearly thirty years in and around Congress, especially after making the move from the moderately liberal Tenth District to a Senate seat representing a conservative state. In hopes of rebranding himself as a westerner, Johnson bought a 418-acre ranch where he raised cattle, wore a cowboy hat, and hosted numerous political leaders and reporters to impress on them his ties to a region most Americans admired rather than distrusted.
Being from Washington, on the other hand, offered certain advantages. The federal government enjoyed the trust of the American people during the 1950s, and the Cold War rivalry with Soviet communism placed a political premium on service in the Senate because of that bodyâs distinctive constitutional responsibilities in foreign affairs. From 1952 to 1972 seventeen of twenty major party nominees for president and vice president were experienced federal office holders, most of them senators.18 As one of the two or three most powerful leaders in Washington, Johnson was a prima facie serious presidential contender.
But Johnsonâs experience in the capital blinded him to some inconvenient political realities. It convinced him that support from his fellow Democratic senators could secure the votes of their state delegations at the 1960 convention. In truth, governors and other state and local party leaders, who were on the scene in their communities and had jobs and contracts to dispense, typically led their delegations. âIt was not e...