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Willkie’s Legacy	Civil Rights    1944 Campaign    Death    Epitaph

   By several measures, Willkie's popularity in 1943 and 1944 was as high as it had ever been. One World continued to sell beyond expectations, and Willkie was in high demand as a public speaker. On the surface, therefore, it seemed that Willkie had a good chance to use this popularity to capture the 1944 GOP nomination. However, Willkie also had many political "negatives" (to use a modern term) working against him. First, the Supreme Court announced its decision in the Schneiderman case in June 1943, which reminded the general public that Willkie had defended a Communist. Second, Willkie expanded his anti-imperialist message to include criticism of this country's shameful treatment of blacks and other minorities. Although this won for Willkie the respect and admiration of minority groups, it also increased the number of his political enemies. Finally, Willkie's political opponents within the GOP were still very powerful, and they were aided by a Republican tradition of denying a second nomination to losing presidential candidates. Thus, political handicappers gave long odds against Willkie's recapture of his party's nomination in 1944.

   But Willkie had overcome long odds before and so he decided once again to try to win the GOP nomination on the strength of his popular appeal. But this attempt was short-lived; Willkie dropped out early in the 1944 primary season when it became obvious he would not win enough delegates to be a factor at the convention. During this brief comeback attempt, Willkie lacked the energy and enthusiasm he exhibited four years earlier, and in the fall of 1944, it became clear why this was. The years of chain smoking and overeating, combined with Willkie's distaste for exercise, had finally caught up with him, and Willkie died of a heart attack in October 1944 at the relatively young age of 52. Although Willkie's place in history was already secure, the world mourned his death with increased intensity because it was clear that had he lived longer, Willkie could have contributed so much more.

   Perhaps because of his modest Midwestern roots, Willkie had an empathy for the underprivileged that lasted throughout his life. His ability to treat everyone as an equal, no matter their station in life, was an integral part of his character. Being from the Midwest also exposed him to the ugly side of human nature as represented by the Ku Klux Klan, which was particularly strong in Indiana during Willkie's childhood and early adulthood. Thus Willkie's championing of the rights of minorities was entirely within his character, and it was this issue that occupied him most during the last three years of his life.

   Willkie's efforts to demand equal opportunities for blacks and other minorities took many forms. He publicly chastised FDR for his unwillingness to denounce Jim Crow laws, such as the poll tax, in the South. Willkie also pressured FDR to support legislation against lynching, which was occurring with disturbing frequency throughout the nation, but mostly in the South. Roosevelt's reluctance to do so was pure politics; he didn't want to loose the support of white southern congressmen. Willkie had no such political reservations, and after three blacks were lynched in Mississippi in 1943, Willkie intensified his public criticism of FDR. When a race riot exploded in Detroit on June 20, 1943, that left 34 people dead, Willkie went on national radio and denounced both political parties for ignoring "the Negro question" (as it was then called). In the broadcast, Willkie compared racism to Fascism: "The desire to deprive some of our citizens of their rights -- economic, civic or political -- has the same basic motivation as actuates the Fascist mind when it seeks to dominate whole peoples and nations. It is essential that we eliminate it at home as well as abroad."

   Willkie also added his voice to the efforts to integrate the country's armed forces. This movement achieved partial success in early 1942, when the Navy, Marines and Coast Guard began accepting black volunteers. (Full integration of all of the armed forces would not come until 1948.) In July 1942, Willkie addressed a convention of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), one of the few whites to do so. From that moment until his death two years later, Willkie consulted frequently with black leaders. His association with the NAACP's Walter White and other black leaders made him aware of Hollywood's racist portrayal of blacks, and a meeting Willkie had with several top Hollywood producers improved the ways minorities were portrayed in films. During this period, Willkie also wrote many articles for the popular press; two notable ones focused on minority rights: "The Case for the Minorities" in the Saturday Evening Post and "Citizens of Negro Blood" in Collier's Magazine. The latter article was reprinted in Willkie's second book, An American Program, published the day before he died. Willkie also pledged that if he were ever elected President, he would name a black to the Supreme Court or to his Cabinet.

   Whether Willkie would campaign for the 1944 GOP nomination was a question of great speculation around the country, and for much of 1943, Willkie would not give a definitive answer on the topic. Willkie held back, by all accounts, because he was still unsure whether he wanted to endure the rigors of yet another presidential campaign. Also, by this time, it was painfully clear that Willkie would get no support from the majority of the rank and file members of the Republican Party or from party leaders. Indeed, a pair of prominent and well-funded Republicans (Joseph Pew of Pennsylvania and Edgar Monsanto Queeny of Missouri) openly promoted a "Stop Willkie" movement. Nevertheless, by the end of 1943 Willkie's speeches and comments to the press made it clear that he was indeed seeking the 1944 GOP nomination.

Credit: Indiana University

   The intensity of the anti-Willkie sentiment in the "Stop Willkie" movement would not seem out of place in today's negative political climate, but such negativity was unheard of in the 1940s. An example of the intense hatred that the "Stop Willkie" forces had toward Willkie can be found in the book "One Man: Wendell Willkie." This book -- allegedly written by the former mayor of Akron, Ohio, the city where Willkie started his law career -- claims that Willkie was a pawn of Wall Street power brokers, most notably the Morgan family, which dominated the banking industry. Willkie's amazing 1940 nomination was bankrolled by Wall Street, the book claims, and brought about by New York bankers who blackmailed convention delegates and party leaders into supporting their "secret" candidate. All these charges, of course, were untrue, but the book hurt Willkie's chances at making a political comeback because it successfully played to people's distrust of Wall Street.

   Other manifestations of the "Stop Willkie" movement were a series of very public rebuffs of Willkie by several top committees of the Republican Party. Willkie was purposefully excluded on several occasions when top party leaders met to plan strategies and to prepare for the 1944 convention. Willkie supporters were repeatedly passed over when committee assignments were doled out, and those who already held positions were forced out whenever possible. More important, these GOP committees were passing resolutions and issuing policy statements that were in direct opposition to Willkie's views. The national press covered these power struggles closely, and more than one political analyst remarked that the GOP was doing everything possible to convince itself that Willkie had ceased to exist.

   Nevertheless, Willkie was determined to make a run for the nomination. Unlike in 1940, this time Willkie actively sought to win delegates in state primary elections. Willkie began his campaign in October 1943 when he toured delegate-rich California, one of the rare states where he had both popular and party support. But the GOP party machines in other crucial primary states such as New York, Ohio, Illinois and Pennsylvania were actively opposing Willkie's candidacy. Even the Republican Party in his home state of Indiana was reportedly against him. Recognizing this bleak reality, Willkie's political supporters urged him to withdraw from the race. Willkie ignored their advice, and in early 1944 he began a cross-country train tour. Willkie announced that he would compete in the primaries of New Hampshire, Maryland, Wisconsin, Nebraska and Oregon.

   As in 1940, Thomas Dewey was Willkie's strongest opponent, and he had spent the last four years installing his supporters into key party positions. Nevertheless, Willkie beat Dewey in New Hampshire, winning six of the eleven delegates. But then, as now, a candidate's success is measured against expectations, and Willkie was expected to do much better in the Granite State than he actually did. In addition, national polls of registered Republicans gave Dewey a greater than 2-to-1 margin over Willkie. The Wisconsin primary in April, Willkie announced, would be a true test of his popularity, and that if he did not make a strong showing there, he would drop out of the race. This was a risky promise to make, as Wisconsin was one of the most isolationist states in the country, and hence very unsympathetic to Willkie's One World philosophy. Equally risky was a speech Willkie had made in February calling for higher taxes to head off a massive war debt that Willkie estimated would grow to $300 billion.

   The combination proved disastrous, and despite an intensive two-week campaign that took him to every corner of the state, Willkie was shut out in the race for delegates. Dewey won 17 of the 24 Wisconsin delegates and would be the eventual GOP presidential nominee. Willkie got news of the final tally in Nebraska, where he had gone to prepare for that state's primary. He took his defeat hard, and after delivering a speech on American foreign policy, he told an Omaha audience that he would keep his word, and that the disappointing Wisconsin results would mean the end of his campaign. "It is obvious now that I cannot be nominated," he told the hushed crowd. "I therefore am asking my friends to desist from any activity toward that end and not to present my name at the convention." Willkie quickly returned to New York, by all accounts bitter at the GOP machinery that had fought so hard against him. He told a reporter, however, that he had no regrets about his comeback attempt.

   Willkie did not sit still after his Wisconsin defeat. Freed from the pressures of political expediency, Willkie vowed to be even more outspoken on the issues that concerned him. He submitted a proposed platform to the Republican National Convention. It was rejected. He criticized the platforms of both parties in an article in Collier's magazine called "Cowardice in Chicago" (both parties had their national conventions in Chicago in 1944). Dewey won the GOP nomination on the first ballot, but Willkie pointedly refused to endorse him not only because he objected to so many of Dewey's positions, but also because Willkie was contemplating another presidential run in 1948. A Dewey endorsement would have alienated Willkie's supporters and hurt his chances in four years.

   Willkie's independence and outspokenness cheered his many supporters, who remained a potent political force. This did not go unnoticed by Roosevelt, who privately asked whether Willkie was interested in being the vice-presidential candidate on the Democratic ticket. Willkie avoided answering the question, and he was equally evasive when FDR later proposed the formation of a new liberal political party. FDR was sure that his New Deal Democrats and the liberal Republicans loyal to Willkie could combine forces and become a powerful force in American politics. Willkie was intrigued by this idea, as he was by the several other political offers presented to him. Willkie made no commitments, however, as he was still undecided about his long-term political plans. Willkie would not have the opportunity to pursue any of these options, however, as in mid-1944, his health began to fail.

   In the summer of 1944, several of Willkie's friends remarked that he seemed uncharacteristically subdued and drained of energy. On a train trip back to Indiana in August, Willkie experienced intense chest pains, which were later diagnosed as a mild heart attack by a doctor in Rushville, his wife's hometown. Willkie ignored the doctor's advice to enter an Indianapolis hospital, and instead Willkie boarded a train to New York. He had more chest pains on the train trip home, and although he made it to his apartment by taxi, his wife and friends convinced him to see a doctor and he reluctantly agreed to be taken by ambulance to Lenox Hill Hospital. Of course, Willkie's hospitalization was news, but his family managed to keep his heart attacks a secret and told the press that he had colitis and just needed to rest.

   Willkie was a difficult patient, and after a few day's rest returned some of his strength, he wanted to get out of the hospital. The doctors kept him there, but they could not keep him from chain smoking his Camel cigarettes, which certainly must have been responsible for much of his heart troubles. His last days were spent reading correspondence and writing back to as many letter-writers as he could. He treated his hospital room as a second office, which soon became as messy as the office he had at his law firm. On October 5, Willkie developed a severe streptococcic throat infection, and was only saved by massive doses of penicillin.

Willkie headstone Rushville, Ind. Credit: Lilly Library, IU

   Despite that crisis, the doctors at Lenox Hill were very optimistic about Willkie's chances of recovery. Following the weeks of bed rest he had received, they were sure that if Willkie reduced his work schedule, his heart would be able to recover fully. But the throat infection had weakened him too much, and his overworked body and heart would not recover. On Saturday night, October 7, Willkie suffered a series of severe heart attacks and he died early the next morning, October 8, at 2:20 a.m. His wife was at his side when he died, but his son Philip was at sea.

   Willkie's death came too late to make the Sunday morning papers, so most Americans became aware of the news through radio broadcasts later in the day. Willkie's sudden death was a shock, especially because his doctors were so optimistic about his eventual recovery. But as the stunning news sank into the public's consciousness, there was a gradual realization that the national political scene had been irrevocably changed. Whether they agreed with him or not, the American public had become accustomed to, and intimately familiar with, Willkie's presence in the national spotlight. And the public showed its appreciation of Willkie and for what he believed in by showing up in large numbers at his memorial services. News accounts estimated that 60,000 people filed past Willkie's coffin as it lay in state on Monday, October 9. And the next day, an overflow crowd of 35,000 was in the street outside the New York church where his funeral was held, in addition to the 2,500 inside.

   The Secretary of War extended an invitation to Willkie's family to bury him in Arlington National Cemetery, but Edith Willkie wanted to return her husband's body to his Midwestern home. Willkie's final resting place is in Rushville, Indiana, Edith Willkie's hometown. Carved into his monument are some of the words with which Willkie changed the world.

   Willkie did not live long enough to witness some of the changes his efforts would help bring about, such as the creation of the United Nations. He also died before the nation plunged into the Cold War with the Soviet Union, before the Civil Rights movement exploded across the South and before the hysteria of McCarthyism would sweep the nation. One can only speculate on know how history would have been different had Willkie's forceful voice been present as these significant events unfolded.

   Willkie was only 52 years old when he died, and although his unsuccessful comeback in 1944 established that he would never become President, it also showed that Willkie had enough support to be a significant factor in shaping the national political agenda. That he died so soon after ascending to the national spotlight was tragic, and unfortunately that tragedy has been magnified since by a historical treatment that has not properly credited him for his numerous achievements. It would be an exaggeration to say that history has forgotten Wendell Willkie, but not a large exaggeration. The Republican Party was never comfortable with Willkie when he was alive, and it has since not promoted his legacy as much as it should have. This is unfortunate, because by most accounts, Willkie's efforts to reform the GOP were eventually successful: After FDR defeated Dewey in 1944, the GOP Old Guard were purged from the party, and many of Willkie's ideas were adopted by the party.

   Willkie's contributions to the nation's war effort during World War II has also been largely under-appreciated. But it's clear that Willkie's "Loyal Opposition" efforts that pushed this country into a greater awareness of its obligations to the Allies saved many lives. Without Willkie's leadership on issues such as Lend-Lease and peacetime conscription, Roosevelt, and consequently the country, would have been severely under-prepared when it entered the war in 1941. Willkie's One World philosophy has fared somewhat better historically. Although the start of the Cold War proved that American and Soviet leaders would not embrace Willkie's philosophy of international cooperation, the book jolted the U.S. out of its isolationist slumber and led the way to a strong post-war American commitment to the formation of the United Nations.

   When Willkie is remembered today, it is usually in the context of his 1940 defeat by Franklin Roosevelt. But his greater impact on the country and the world came after his defeat, and it is unfortunate that these achievements go largely unremembered. Although history has not sufficiently credited Willkie for his many accomplishments, Willkie himself was satisfied with the role he had played. Even at a very low point in his public and personal life -- shortly after he ended his 1944 campaign -- Willkie was characteristically upbeat when a reporter asked him to sum up his experiences. "I've had three great satisfactions in my life -- the nomination, the book, and this campaign," he said. "Somehow, I feel damn proud."

ONE WORLD

LEGACY

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Original content Copyright © 1999-2002    Timothy D. Walker    Your  comments  are appreciated
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