CHAPTER LXXII

THE ISSUES IN PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS

The

He is

UPON what does a presidential election turn? presidential candidate has a double character. put forward as being individually qualified for the great place of executive head of the nation, because he is a man of integrity, energy, firmness, intellectual power, experience in affairs. He is also recommended as a prominent member of a great national party, inspired by its traditions, devoted to its principles, and prepared to carry them out not only in his properly executive capacity, but, what is more important, as the third branch of the legislature, armed with a veto on bills passed by Congress. His election may therefore be advocated or opposed either on the ground of his personal qualities or of his political professions and party affiliations. Here we have a marked difference between the American and European systems, because in England, France, Germany, and Italy, elections turn chiefly on the views of the parties, secondarily on the character of individual leaders, seeing that the leaders are not chosen directly by the people, but are persons who have come to the top in the legislatures of those countries, or have been (in Germany) raised to office by the Crown. In America therefore we have a source of possible confusion between

issues of two wholly distinct kinds-those which affect the personal qualifications of the candidate, and those which regard the programme of his party.

Whether, in any given presidential election, the former or the latter class of issues are the more conspicuous and decisive, depends partly on the political questions which happen to be then before the people, partly on the more or less marked individuality of the rival candidates. From about 1850 down to 1876, questions, first of the extension of slavery, then of its extinction, then of the reconstruction of the Union, had divided the nation, and made every contest a contest of principles and of practical measures. Since the controversies raised by the war have been settled, there have been few real differences of political principle between the parties, and questions of personal fitness have therefore become relatively more important.

The object of each party naturally is to put forward as many good political issues as it can, claiming for itself the merit of having always been on the popular side. Any one who should read the campaign literature of the Republicans would fancy that they were opposed to the Democrats on many important points. When he took up the Democratic speeches and pamphlets he would be again struck by the serious divergences between the parties, which however would seem to arise, not on the points raised by the Republicans, but on other points which the Republicans had not referred to. In other words, the aim of each party is to force on its antagonist certain issues which the antagonist rarely accepts, so that although there is a vast deal of discussion and declamation on political topics, there are few on which either party directly traverses the doctrines of the other. Each pummels, not his true enemy, but a stuffed figure

set up to represent that enemy. During the presidential elections of 1880 and 1884, for instance, the Republicans sought to force to the front the issue of Protection versus Free Trade, which the Democrats refused to accept, having avowed Protectionists within their own ranks, and knowing that the bulk of the nation was at most prepared only for certain reductions in the tariff. Hence the odd spectacle was presented of Republican orators advocating a protective tariff on a thousand platforms, and hardly any Democrat referring to the subject except to say that he would not refer to it. Both sides declared against monopolists and the power of corporations. Both professed to be the friends of civil service reform. Both promised to protect the rights of the Americans all over the world, to withstand Bismarck in his attacks on American bacon, and to rescue American citizens from British dungeons. Both, however, were equally zealous for peace and good-will among the nations, and had no idea of quarrelling with any European power.

What impression did these appeals and discussions make upon the voters? Comparatively little. The American, like the Englishman, usually votes with his party, right or wrong, and the fact that there is little distinction of view between the parties makes it easier to stick to your old friends. The tariff issue did, however, tell in favour of the Republicans in 1880 and 1884, and while the Southern men voted against the Republican party because it was the party which had carried on the war and crushed Secession, the bulk of the North voted for that party for the same reason. It was associations of the past rather than arguments on the present and the future that determined men's action.

When politics are slack, personal issues come to the

front. They are in one sense small, but not for that reason less exciting. Whoever has sat in any body of men, from a college debating society up to a legislative chamber, knows that no questions raise so much warmth and are debated with so much keenness as questions affecting the character and conduct of individual men.

They evoke some of what is best and much of what is worst in human nature. In a presidential election it is impossible to avoid discussing the personal merits of the candidates, because much depends on those merits. It has also proved impossible to set limits to the discussion. Unmitigated publicity is a condition of eminence in America; and the excitement in one of these contests rises so high that (at elections in which personal issues are prominent) the canons of decorum which American custom at other times observes, are cast aside by speakers and journalists. The air is thick with charges, defences, recriminations, till the voter knows not what to believe. Imagine all the accusations brought against all the candidates for the 670 seats in the English parliament concentrated on one man, and read by sixty millions of people daily for three months, and you will still fail to realize what is the tempest of invective and calumny which hurtles round the head of a presidential candidate.

These censures are referable to three classes. One includes what is called the candidate's "war record." To have been disloyal to the Union in the hour of its danger is a reproach. To have fought for the North, still more to have led a Northern regiment or division, covers a multitude of sins. It is the greatest of blessings for America that she fights so seldom, for in no country do military achievements carry a candidate farther, not that the people love war, for they do not,

really nothing in the life or habits of a candidate out of which materials for a reproach may not be drawn. Of one it is said that he is too fond of eating, of another that though he rents a pew in Dr. Y—'s church, he is more frequently seen in a Roman Catholic place of worship, of a third that he deserted his wife twenty-five years ago, of a fourth that he is an atheist. His private conversations are reported; and when he denies the report, third persons are dragged in to refute his version. Nor does criticism stop with the candidate himself. His leading supporters are arraigned and dissected. A man's surroundings

do no doubt throw some light upon him. If you are shown into a library, you derive an impression from the books on the shelves and the pictures on the wall; much more then may you be influenced by the character of a man's personal friends and political associates, if they are of a conspicuously good or evil type. But such methods of judging must be applied cautiously. American electioneering carries them beyond reasonable limits.

I do not mean that elections always bring these personal issues prominently to the front. Sometimes, where the candidates excite no strong enthusiasm or repulsion, they remain in the background. Their intrusion into what ought to be a contest of principles is unavoidable when the personal qualities of a candidate may affect the welfare of the country. But it has the unfortunate result of tending to draw attention away from political discussions, and thereby lessening what may be called the educational value of the campaign. A general election in England seems better calculated to instruct the masses of the people in the principles as well as the practical issues of politics, than the longer and generally hotter presidential