March 11, 1969
Page 5995
A CANDID DISCUSSION OF PRESIDENTIAL PROSPECTS
HON. PETER N. KYROS OF MAINE
IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES
Tuesday, March 11, 1969
Mr. KYROS. Mr. Speaker, most political columnists who have been on the Washington scene for a number of years tend to adopt a rather dispassionate view of the political process. Perhaps this is an occupational requirement of their profession. Occasionally, however, a political leader emerges who attracts the genuine enthusiasm of those writers who come into contact with him.
Maine's Senator EDMUND S. MUSKIE is such a leader.
Maine's citizens have long recognized ED MUSKIE's remarkable qualities as an individual, as well as an outstanding Governor and Senator. During the past year, Senator MUSKIE was able to appear before a much larger segment of the Nation, and the Nation's press. The experience was a rewarding one for all concerned.
Mr. Stewart Alsop has written a most interesting column about the Senator's reaction to this exposure. As the column points out, the national campaign experience has not deprived Senator MUSKIE of what Alsop terms his "refreshing candor." In Mr. Alsop's words, Senator MUSKIE "is the very rare kind of man who is, quite simply, what he is, without concealment or apology."
Senator MUSKIE's willingness to talk openly about his interest in seeking the Presidency is not only a welcome source of material for the media. It is also a source of inspiration to the many, many Americans who believe that ED MUSKIE possesses the qualities which could make him a great national leader in that office. I would like, therefore, to insert into the RECORD Stewart Alsop's column entitled "Can a Poor Man Get To Be President?" which appeared in the March 17, 1969, issue of Newsweek magazine. Perhaps the future will reveal that this question can be answered in the affirmative.
The article follows:
CAN A POOR MAN GET TO BE PRESIDENT?
(By Stewart Alsop)
WASHINGTON.-- “Teddy's got it locked up, anyway, or just about," says Sen. Ed Muskie of Maine, sitting back relaxed in a leather chair, with his long legs stretched out in front of him. "There's the money, and the mystique, and Teddy's an able, charming guy too. When everybody begins saying this early it's going to be Teddy, why, it's going to be Teddy -- almost sure to be."
Even after being warned that he will be quoted, Senator Muskie talks with a refreshing candor for a major politician -- and especially for a politician who candidly regards himself as a potential Presidential candidate. Even John F. Kennedy, who never bothered much to conceal his Presidential ambitions, never talked quite so candidly so long before an election.
If before the next election Edward M. Kennedy is anywhere near as far ahead of any other Democratic candidate as he is now, Muskie says, he'll be nominated on the first ballot. Even so, a lot can happen in four years. "It will depend on what happens, and on the issues, and on what I say about them, and on whether people will listen. By luck, I reached a national audience in the campaign, but my problem now is to stay alive for four years."
One of the problems of staying alive is money. To reach a national audience and to do all the necessary political spadework for a serious shot at the Presidency, Muskie figures that he needs about $200,000 a year in the first two years or so. This, he thinks, would "cover a hard-core staff" for research and advance work, as well as a skeleton national organization, and the necessary trips abroad. But where is the money to come from?
ON WITH THE JOB
Muskie himself has no serious capital. He is presently getting about the country a great deal by accepting lecture fees -- $2,000 a talk, plus expenses for himself and an aide, is the usual deal.
He is so much in demand that he could speak once or twice a day at that rate if he wanted to. But he has his Senate duties to think about -- by April he means to cut down sharply on his present rather frenetic speaking schedule in order to get on with the job of being a senator. So where is he to get the $200,000 to pay for that "hardcore staff" he needs to "stay alive"?
"There'd be no problem getting that much money, but the question is how. I'm not going to set up some sort of secret fund -- I don't want to be accused of setting up a slush fund. If we set up a Muskie-for-President committee, people would say, 'Look who's trying to buy him.' If we set up a committee just to get my views across, not a Presidential commission, people would say, 'Who's he trying to fool?' "
For awhile, Muskie admits, the money problem worried him a lot. "You know," he says, "it was a strange experience. For the first time in my life I was beginning to think of political success for the sake of political success. Always before, I was relaxed. I enjoyed the contest -- if I won, fine, if I lost, too bad."
"Of course," he says, with a small smile, "I'd never felt the stirrings of Presidential ambition before, and for awhile it bothered me. It bothered me terribly. Maybe it even warped my judgment. Now I've sort of settled down, I think, and I'm beginning to get some fun out of it again. After all, here I am, a senator from Maine of all places, son of a Polish immigrant, and I'm one of the top two, I guess, for the time being anyway. It's a great feeling."
STRIKING PHENOMENON
Muskie is undoubtedly "one of the top two." At least for the present, political Washington does not rate Humphrey a serious contender. A widespread attitude was expressed by one former colleague: "Good old Hubert, everybody loves him, but for President, he's through."
As for Eugene McCarthy, he has performed an eccentric act of political self-immolation, and no one takes him seriously either. Other than some such cloud no longer than a man's hand on the horizon as Sen. Fred Harris of Oklahoma, that leaves only two at the starting gate -- Kennedy and Muskie. But Kennedy is a favorite by such a margin that there are few Muskie takers. A striking phenomenon of this post-election period is that already, almost four years in advance, "everybody is saying it's going to be Teddy."
There are very good reasons why everybody is so saying. As Muskie says, "there's the money, and the mystique." Muskie's money problem is not confined to the $200,000-a-year problem of "staying alive" in the immediate future. Eventually, if he is to become a serious candidate, he must raise, without any resources of his own, enormous sums.
How enormous is suggested by a study now being conducted by the leading expert on campaign spending, Dr. Herbert E. Alexander of The Citizens' Research Foundation. Alexander, who has been doing exhaustive research on the subject, estimates that Richard Nixon spent $8.5 million before his nomination; Nelson Rockefeller $6 million in the same period; Hubert Humphrey more than $4 million before his nomination; Eugene McCarthy an amazing $7 million to $8 million; and Robert Kennedy "at least" $6 million in his 85 days of campaigning.
READYMADE APPARATUS
This list suggests that to become a serious contender a candidate either has to be very rich in his own right, like Rockefeller or Robert Kennedy; or close to the party apparatus, like Nixon or Humphrey; or the symbol of a pocketbook-emptying cause, like McCarthy. Muskie qualifies on none of these three scores. Edward Kennedy not only qualifies on the first, but he has inherited a readymade apparatus of his own. As for causes, there is no visible difference at all on basic issues between Kennedy and Muskie.
And yet it might be foolish, all the same, to count out Ed Muskie. There is a remarkable quality about the man, and this quality, whatever it is, came over very strongly to the American voters in last fall's campaign.
One of the odd things about Muskie is that, without a single New England antecedent -- he is straight Polish on both sides -- he looks like a casting director's dream of the dour-but-honest Yankee of the old school. He recognizes this himself -- he jokes about "this Saltonstall jaw of mine" -- and the Maine twang completes the illusion.
In fact, of course, a lot of old-school Yankees were pretty sneaky fellows below the surface layer of the laconic speech and the granitic jaw. Muskie, unless he has deceived everybody who knows him, is not a sneaky fellow at all. He is the very rare kind of man who is, quite simply, what he is, without concealment or apology. This quality -- Marshall McLuhan calls it "coolness" -- comes across very clearly on the television screen, and in modern politics it is a pearl beyond price. So perhaps Teddy Kennedy hasn't got it quite locked up after all.