CHAPTER ONE
President-Elect
November 1952âJanuary 11, 1953
DWIGHT EISENHOWER actively disliked few people. If a man let him down, or offended his sense of dignity, or insulted him, Eisenhowerâs practice was to try to put the man out of his mind. If he was forced to work on a regular basis with someone he dislikedâMontgomery during the war is the supreme exampleâhe managed to control and hide his feelings, so that their work together could be effective. Eisenhower also tried, usually successfully, never to publicly question another manâs motives, even when he felt the manâs actions to be selfish, unprincipled, partisan, or stupid.
By November of 1952, Eisenhower actively disliked Harry Truman. He thought the President was guilty of extreme partisanship, poor judgment, inept leadership and management, bad taste, and undignified behavior. Worst of all, in Eisenhowerâs view Truman had diminished the prestige of the office of the President of the United States.
Eisenhower had not always been so negative toward Truman. He had first met the President at Potsdam, in July of 1945, and at the time liked and admired the man. During Eisenhowerâs tenure as Army Chief of Staff (1946â1948), he and Truman had enjoyed a mutually beneficial working relationship. Although they never became friends (unlike Arthur Eisenhower and Truman, who had been friends since 1905, when they lived in the same Kansas City boardinghouse), they respected each other. In 1948 Truman offered to support Eisenhower for the Presidency, and in 1949 Eisenhower agreed to work for Truman as his chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS). Further, although Eisenhower strongly disagreed with Trumanâs domestic policies, especially with regard to labor unions and deficit financing, the two men were in full agreement on foreign policy. Eisenhower supported all of Trumanâs major decisionsâthe containment policy, the airlift to Berlin, the commitment to Korea, the program to build a hydrogen warhead, the limitation of the war in Korea, and most important of all, the North Atlantic Treaty and the sending of four American divisions to Germany to provide a military base for NATO. With regard to the last point, in fact, Eisenhower had been Trumanâs principal and enthusiastic agent in making NATO a military reality. In the process Eisenhower had worked closely with Trumanâs top advisers, including Dean Acheson, Averell Harriman, Robert Lovett, and George Marshall.
The 1952 campaign destroyed the Eisenhower-Truman relationship. Truman resented the Republicans for their promise to clean up the âmess in Washingtonâ and was bitter about Eisenhowerâs criticisms of American foreign policy, especially the emphasis on liberation of the Communist satellites and the charge that the Democrats were âsoft on Communism.â The President was furious with Eisenhower for failing to speak up for Marshall in Milwaukee in McCarthyâs presence. Truman thoughtâand saidâthat Eisenhowerâs pledge to go to Korea if elected was the worst sort of political hucksterism. In the last days of the campaign, Truman went after Eisenhower personally, reportedly saying that âthe General doesnât know any more about politics than a pig knows about Sunday.â
Truman had a long, and legitimate, list of complaints, especially the part about Eisenhowerâs hypocrisy in attacking a foreign policy he had helped to create and execute. And, of course, Truman hated to lose. Now he had to hand over the government to the hated Republicans. He was going to do so with as much grace and good will as he could muster, but he could not resist some final digs. Thus the day after the election, he sent a telegram to Eisenhower inviting him to the White House for a conference on the transition, then added that the presidential plane, the Independence, would be available to Eisenhower for his trip to Korea, âif you still want to go.â
Eisenhower, tight-lipped and scowling, replied that any military transport would be fine. Then Eisenhower wrote to Lovett, the Secretary of Defense, thanking Lovett for a recent âkind and thoughtful letterâ concerning arrangements for the trip. Eisenhower said Lovettâs communication âcreates a feeling of confidence that is not characteristic of some that I have been receiving.â One of Trumanâs objections to the âI shall go to Koreaâ pledge had been its implication that in Korea Eisenhower would find some magic formula to end the war, one that had escaped the Administration and the JCS. Eisenhower was sensitive to this charge, especially as the chairman of the JCS was one of his oldest friends and closest associates, Omar Bradley. So Eisenhower told Lovett, âI am quite sure that you and my old friends there [in the Pentagon] know that I am not trying to be clever and I am not pretending that I will find answers that they have overlooked.â1
On November 18, Eisenhower flew to Washington for a 2 P.M. appointment with the President. The meeting was stiff, formal, embarrassing, and unrewarding. Truman had with him Harriman, Acheson, John Snyder (Secretary of the Treasury), and Lovett. These were the men most responsible for containment, for NATO, and for the commitment to Korea. They were the men with whom Eisenhower had cooperated handsomely in the past, but whom he had vigorously criticized during the campaign. Everyone was ill at ease. Acheson was âperplexedâ by Eisenhowerâs attitude. âThe good nature and easy manner tending toward loquacity were gone. He seemed embarrassed and reluctant to be with us. Sunk back in a chair facing the President . . . he chewed the earpiece of his spectacles and occasionally asked for a memorandum on a matter that caught his attention.â2
The meeting lasted but twenty minutes. Truman offered to leave some portraits in the Oval Office; Eisenhower curtly told him no thanks. Then Truman gave him the world globe that Eisenhower had used in World War II, and that Eisenhower had given to Truman at Potsdam in 1945. Eisenhower accepted the globe, according to Truman, ânot very graciously.â Finally Truman tried to give Eisenhower advice on how to organize his staff, but as the President noted in his diary two days later, âI think all this went into one ear and out the other.â3 It did indeed. Eisenhower noted stiffly in his memoirs that the meeting âadded little to my knowledge, nor did it affect my planning for the new administration . . .â4 It was his only meeting with the President before Inauguration Day, the only effort to provide for a smooth transition. January 20, 1953, in fact, saw the most hostile transition of the twentieth century.
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The evening of January 21, 1953, Dwight Eisenhower took a minute to make an entry in his diary. âMy first day at the presidentâs desk,â he wrote. âPlenty of worries and difficult problems. But such has been my portion for a long timeâthe result is that this just seems (today) like a continuation of all Iâve been doing since July 1941âeven before that.â5
The contrast between Eisenhowerâs confident attitude and that of his predecessor after his first day on the job could not have been greater. On April 13, 1945, Harry Truman had told reporters, âBoys, if you ever pray, pray for me now. . . . When they told me yesterday what had happened, I felt like the moon, the stars, and all the planets had fallen on me.â6
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Eisenhowerâs preparation for the Presidency was, obviously, much better than Trumanâs had been. Rooseveltâs death had thrown Truman into a whole new world, one completely strange to him. But Eisenhower was simply continuing a life that he had long since grown accustomed to leading. He had not had a private life since June 1942, when he arrived in London. He had had aides at his elbows and advisers behind him for ten years. He was used to being surrounded by reporters whenever he was in a public place, to having his photograph taken, to having his every word quoted. Most important of all, Eisenhower was accustomed to being held in awe, to being the center of attention, to having the power to make the decisions.
Eisenhower had resigned himself to the loss of many ordinary human pleasures, but also learned to accept the privileges that went with his station. Except for an occasional private banquet, he had not eaten in a restaurant in ten years. His schedule seldom allowed him sustained leisure for the serious reading of history he so loved to do. He had learned to take infrequent and short vacations, to expect them to be interrupted, and to take along plenty of work. To leave his mind and his time free, he had others to do the most basic of human chores for him. He did not dress himselfâJohn Moaney, his valet, put on his underwear, socks, shoes, pants, shirt, jacket, and tie. Eisenhower did not drive a car, never had to worry about a parking place. He did not even know how to use a dial telephone. He had never been in a laundromat or a supermarket. He did not keep his own checkbook or manage his own finances. He handled money only when it was time to settle up on the golf course or at the bridge table, where he hated to lose and hated even more having to pay up. (Correspondingly, collecting a $20 bet gave him great pleasure. He was not above using his rank. Opponents had to hole out their one- or two-foot putts, while Eisenhower would pick up his eight-footer, grin, and say thanks for the gimme.7) His travel arrangements were always made for him. He did not have to worry about where to stand or what toast to make at the many formal occasions he attended; as he told John Foster Dulles, when Dulles corrected him on a point of protocol, he had never bothered to learn such details because âaides have sat on my right all my life.â8
Eisenhower was also ready for the physical demands of the Presidency. Three weeks before the election of 1952, he had celebrated his sixty-second birthday. Despite his age, Eisenhower was in good health. At 175 pounds, he weighed only a few pounds more than he had when he played football at West Point. He ate and drank in moderation, and in 1949 had quit tobacco cold turkey. He exercised regularly, either on the golf course or in a swimming pool. His face was usually sun-tanned, his complexion ruddy. His erect military bearing provided convincing evidence of his good muscle tone and strong constitution. Although he was of medium height (five feet ten inches), he somehow seemed taller. Wherever he went, he stood out, not only because of his reputation, but also because of his animation. His immense storehouse of energy and warmth was sensed, felt, communicated to everyone around him. His associates drew on that apparently inexhaustible source of energy; his political opponents were confounded by it.
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Among most groups, Eisenhower inspired confidence. Those who knew him well, and millions who did not, looked to him instinctively for guidance and leadership. Partly this was a result of his proved record of accomplishment, partly the result of his personality. He seemed so self-assured, so competent, so open to new ideas and suggestions, so reasonable, so objective (his own favorite word to describe himself), that when associates or reporters or supporters described him, there was one word that almost all of them used. It was âtrustworthy.â His old comrade-in-arms Bernard Law Montgomery put it best when he said of Eisenhower, âHe has the power of drawing the hearts of men towards him as a magnet attracts the bits of metal. He merely has to smile at you, and you trust him at once.â9
But Harry Truman had his doubts about Eisenhowerâs trustworthiness, and was certain that Eisenhower would not be able to provide the country with competent leadership. As prepared as Eisenhower was for the life-style the Presidency would force on him, he was not, in Trumanâs view, at all prepared for the real work facing him in the task ahead. Reflecting on the problems the general-become-President would face, in late 1952 Truman mused, âHeâll sit here, and heâll say, âDo this! Do that!â And nothing will happen. Poor Ikeâit wonât be a bit like the Army. Heâll find it very frustrating.â10
Truman was not alone. As Eisenhower prepared to enter the Presidency, friends as well as critics worried about how unprepared he was for the job. According to this widely held view, Eisenhower had spent his life in the sheltering monastery of the U.S. Army, and therefore knew nothing of such practical matters as economics, partisan politics, the intricacies of the relationship between Capitol Hill and the White House, race relations and labor legislation, or the myriad of other subjects he would have to deal with. He was, or so it was charged, the âcaptive hero,â the tool of the millionaires in the Republican Party who would use him to suit their purposes, while he would be content to play golf and preside over ceremonial functions.
The truth is so directly the opposite from the portrayal that the real problem is to attempt to understand how such analysis could have attained such popularity. One obvious reason was the American publicâs traditional dislike of the professional soldier, its unwillingness to admit that soldiers knew about anything other than making war. Another factor was Eisenhowerâs own frequent self-deprecation. âIâm just a simple soldier,â he would say, or âIâm just a farm boy from Kansas.â His penchant for expressing his distaste about politics and his insistence that he was a political innocent also contributed to the popular view. But Eisenhower had lived and worked in Washington throughout most of the Hoover Administration and on into the New Deal. His principal job had been to lobby in Congress for the U.S. Army. He had testified at dozens of congressional hearings; he had spent countless hours meeting privately with congressmen. After World War II, first as the Army Chief of Staff and then as chairman of the JCS, and finally as Supreme Allied Commander, Europe (SACEUR), he had continued to work closely with both the Executive and Congress. Despite the forebodings about the inexperience of the President-elect, Eisenhower knew Washington and its modus operandi at least as well as any of his predecessors, and far better than most.
In foreign affairs, he was undoubtedly the best-prepared man ever elected to the Presidency. He knew personally numerous world leaders, including his main opponent, Joseph Stalin. He had lived in Asia (the Philippines), Central America (Panama), Europe (Paris in the twenties and again in 1951; London in 1942 and 1944), Africa (Algeria in 1943), and had made extended trips to the Near East, the Soviet Union, Japan, and China. He had a close working relationship with every major politician in Western Europe, including those currently in power, most notably Winston Churchill and Konrad Adenauer, and those out of power, including Clement Attlee and Charles de Gaulle. He had the respect and admiration of nearly all the worldâs leaders.
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He also knew a great deal about teamwork and the need for aides. âNo one man can be a Napoleon in modern war,â he had declared in 1942, and he believed the principle applied equally to political leadership in 1953. âNow look,â he once explained, âthis idea that all wisdom is in the President . . . thatâs baloney. . . . I donât believe this government was set up to be operated by any one acting alone; no one has a monopoly on the truth and on the facts that affect this country.â11
Eisenhowerâs sense of the limitations on the individual, however great the man, was well illustrated in a conversation he had with Churchill during the first week of January 1953. Churchill, who had returned in 1951 to 10 Downing Street, flew to the United States to meet the President-elect.
After only a few minutes of conversation, in which Churchill tried to persuade Eisenhower to help...