The Finder Letter

It is not surprising that in the years following World War II Americans considered Eisenhower an excellent candidate for the presidency. His command of the D-Day landing of Allied forces on the beaches of Normandy had won him universal praise and his fifth star. After accepting Germany’s unconditional surrender, he returned home to ticker-tape parades in New York City and Washington, DC, an invitation to address a joint session of Congress, and a celebratory dinner at the White House. No other individual was more closely associated with the Allied defeat of Germany than Dwight Eisenhower.

Talk of Eisenhower running for president did not bother President Truman, who told his wife Bess that a Democratic presidential ticket headed by Ike “was fine with him.” In June 1945, during the Big Four conference in Potsdam, Eisenhower, now military governor of the U.S. occupation zone in Germany, took President Truman on a tour of Berlin. During the tour, Truman turned to Eisenhower and said, “General, there is nothing that you may want that I won’t try to help you get. That definitely and specifically includes the presidency in 1948.” The general was used to speculation about his future political plans, but he was taken aback by Truman’s comment. “To have the president suddenly throw this broadside into me left me no recourse except to treat it as a very splendid joke, which I hoped it was,” Eisenhower later wrote. “I laughed heartily and said: ‘Mr. President, I don’t know who will be your opponent for the presidency, but it will not be I.’ There was no doubt about my seriousness.”⁴ After that awkward exchange, Eisenhower realized that he would no longer be able to laugh off questions regarding his political future.

In November 1945, Eisenhower returned to the United States, taking the position of army chief of staff (CSA). Although he insisted, both publicly and in his private correspondence, that he had no interest in the presidency, speculation continued in the press and among prominent individuals in both parties. His childhood friend Everett “Swede” Hazlett, with whom he had a lifelong correspondence, raised the issue with him several times during this period. In October 1945, Swede had written, “No matter what party you affiliated with … you could carry the country without even taking to the road.” By the following February Hazlett had sensed his friend’s disinterest. “I have an idea that you have no real interest in public office,” he wrote. “Your conclusions concerning my attitude toward politics are 100 per cent correct,” Eisenhower replied. “I cannot conceive of any set of circumstances that could ever drag out of me permission to consider me for any political post from dog catcher to ‘Grand High Supreme King of the Universe.’ ”⁵

Eisenhower was unhappy in the position of CSA, and in 1946 he started considering his options for a postmilitary career. This was a difficult time for President Truman as well. In November, the Democratic Party lost fifty-five seats in the House and twelve seats in the Senate, losing control of both chambers for the first time since 1930. Truman’s political future was very much in doubt. It was in this context that Truman again offered to support Eisenhower for president in 1948, this time offering an interesting twist. “I told Ike,” Truman wrote in his diary, “that he … should announce for the nomination for president on the Democratic ticket and that I’d be glad to be in second place, or Vice President… . Ike and I could be elected and … [I] would be happy.”⁶ Eisenhower does not relate this conversation in his own diary or memoirs, and no record of it has been found in the papers at his presidential library. If the conversation took place as Truman describes it, one can only assume that Eisenhower brushed off the offer as he had the previous year.

Truman was not the only one who saw Eisenhower’s potential as a presidential candidate. His personal correspondence during this period consists primarily of denials of interest written to those from both parties who sought his candidacy, and his diary entries are frequently punctuated by his exasperation with those who “don’t want to believe a man that insists he will have nothing to do with politics.”⁷ On January 12, 1948, Leonard Finder, publisher of the Manchester Evening Leader, wrote to General Eisenhower:

As you know, a movement has been launched in New Hampshire to elect on March 9 a slate of delegates pledged to you. At the same time that this announcement was made public, The Manchester Evening Leader came out with open endorsement of you as “the best man.” For our actions, we have no apology, even though we are aware that you are not desirous of being involved in this political contest. We have acted consistent with our own belief, based on what we regard as best for the welfare of the nation.⁸

Eisenhower’s carefully worded reply eliminated him from consideration in 1948 but left the door open for future possibilities. His letter got right to the point. “I thought that unqualified denial of political ambition would eliminate me from consideration in the coming campaign for the presidency, because that office has, since the days of Washington, historically and properly fallen only to aspirants,” he wrote. “But my failure to convince thoughtful and earnest men, such as yourself, proves that I must make some amplification.” Then came the general’s most forceful rejection since the idea had first emerged: “I am not available for and could not accept nomination to high political office.” He said that it had been his intention all along to say that he would not accept nomination, but he had refrained from making such a “bald statement.” He now believed this omission to have been a mistake “since it has inadvertently misled” sincere Americans.

Next, he offered his reasons for refusal. The first was humility. He did not want to assume “that significant numbers of people would actively interest themselves in me as a possible candidate” or to appear disrespectful of the “highest honor American citizens can confer.” The second reason was duty. This was a subject that Eisenhower felt very strongly about and, as we shall see, would define his response to demands that he run in 1952. He explained that he did not want to violate “that concept of duty to country which calls upon every good citizen to place no limitations upon his readiness to serve.” On this point he said that he believed that “unless an individual feels some inner compulsion and special qualifications to enter the political arena,” which he did not, then “a refusal to do so involves no violation of the highest standards of devotion to duty.” This explanation left the door open for reconsideration prior to 1952.

Finally, Eisenhower stated that it was his conviction that “the necessary and wise subordination of the military to civil power will be best sustained … when lifelong professional soldiers in the absence of some obvious and overriding reasons, abstain from seeking high political office.” In addition to ruling himself out, this last point had the added benefit of ruling out Douglas MacArthur, whose political ambitions he did not support. Eisenhower concluded his letter to Finder by stating that his decision was “definite and positive.” He planned to make the letter public “to inform all interested persons that I could not accept nomination even under the remote circumstances that it were tendered to me.”⁹

In 1948, Eisenhower retired from active duty and became president of Columbia University in New York City. Although the Finder letter put an end to serious talk of nominating Eisenhower that year, his transition to civilian life gave many individuals new hope that their desire for him to be president would one day be fulfilled. In the spring of 1948 Eisenhower, as the newly installed president of Columbia University, received twenty thousand political letters, postcards, and telegrams. An analysis by Columbia’s Bureau of Applied Social Research determined that 89 percent of those who wrote wanted Eisenhower to run for president. Although 9 percent did not want him to run, three-quarters of those gave as their reason that they did not want him to risk his “unimpeachable position in the eyes of the American public.”¹⁰

Eisenhower’s public-speaking schedule and the content of his speeches would have done little to dissuade those who had begun to see him as a politician. Although he had not revealed his party affiliation, a careful listener would not have had difficulty determining it. In his inaugural address at Columbia in October 1948, for example, he warned that “a paternalistic government can gradually destroy … the will of the people to maintain a high degree of individual responsibility. And the abdication of individual responsibility is inevitably followed by further concentration of power in the state.”¹¹ In that same month he made twenty speeches, a pace he kept up for much of the next two years. Many of these speeches took positions on the problems he believed America faced. When those problems were domestic, his positions were consistent with those of the Republican Party.¹²

In addition to honing his skills as a political speaker, Eisenhower’s time at Columbia prepared him for his future in another way as well—he acquired a circle of wealthy and powerful friends and a significant amount of money of his own. Most important of these friends was William Robinson, publisher of the New York Herald Tribune. It was Robinson who, in 1947, persuaded Eisenhower to write Crusade in Europe, a memoir of his World War II years. Robinson introduced Eisenhower to executives at Doubleday Publishing, which advanced him over half a million dollars for publishing rights. For a career military officer, this was an incredible amount of money. Robinson also introduced Ike to Clifford Roberts, chairman of the Masters Tournament at Augusta National Golf Club. Augusta would quickly become Eisenhower’s favorite place to get away and relax. As William Hitchcock, Eisenhower’s biographer put it, “Eisenhower’s friends … were not simply wealthy: they were among the richest and most powerful businessmen in postwar America.” They had other things in common as well. One was a hostility to the expansive federal programs of the Roosevelt and Truman administrations. Another was a belief that Eisenhower should be president.¹³

With Eisenhower out of the running, Truman ultimately decided to run for election in 1948 and, despite a badly divided Democratic Party, he defeated Republican Tom Dewey, the governor of New York, in one of the biggest upsets in American political history. Eisenhower was troubled by the prospect of four more years of Truman’s Fair Deal and the “trend toward governmental centralization” it represented to him.¹⁴ He was also concerned that Dewey’s defeat would allow isolationists under the leadership of Ohio Senator Robert Taft to take control of the Republican Party. He continued to resist partisan politics, but his diary entries from this period reveal that his duty in this regard was constantly on his mind.

On January 1, 1950, Eisenhower wrote a long diary entry on the subject “to clarify [his] mind.” His mind seemed clear on one thing: “I do not want a political career.” But his sense of duty made him feel that an explanation was necessary. He saw his role as that of an elder statesman, one who transcended party politics. He believed that because the American system was “superior to any government elsewhere established by men,” that his “greatest possible opportunity for service [was] to be found in supporting, in renewing respect for, and in encouraging greater thinking” about its fundamentals. In these fundamentals, he said, “there is no difference between the two great parties.” The role of the parties was merely to provide a choice between “two different methods in the application” of those fundamentals. “Therefore,” he said, “I belong to neither.”

Eisenhower’s loyalty to the army and to Columbia University affected his views on partisanship. “I have been a soldier—necessarily without political affiliation—all my life,” he wrote. Having been educated and trained by his government to perform that role, he felt a duty to provide his counsel “no matter what political party might happen to be in power at the moment.” Furthermore, he felt an obligation to assist in the “aspirations and the welfare of our veterans of World War II.” Since those veterans were both Democrats and Republicans, he believed they would have greater confidence that he was doing everything he could for them if he refused party membership. Eisenhower also felt an obligation to Columbia. Having accepted the presidency, he wrote, “I do not believe it appropriate for me to proclaim a loyalty to a political party.” At Columbia, and among its alumni and supporters, there were “men and women of all parties.” He recognized that “joining a specific party would certainly antagonize some” and prevent him not only from serving the institution well, but from using the university’s resources to promote his beliefs.¹⁵

Although Eisenhower gave equal weight to the army and Columbia in his diary exposition on partisanship, it soon became clear that his connection to the army was greater. As Eisenhower’s biographers have demonstrated, the general had a difficult time adjusting to the academic world. Columbia University’s board of trustees retained control of big-picture decision-making, leaving Eisenhower with the less familiar roles of fund-raising and entertaining, neither of which suited his strengths.¹⁶ It was not long before his time and attention were once again on military matters. By early 1949, Eisenhower was commuting to Washington, DC, on a regular basis to consult with Secretary of Defense James Forrestal and the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS). He would continue this arrangement with Forrestal’s successor Louis Johnson. The position of chairman of the JCS had not yet been created, but Eisenhower was essentially filling this role, and his responsibilities were about to expand dramatically.¹⁷

Supreme Allied Commander

On June 25, 1950, North Korea invaded South Korea, and President Truman quickly committed the United States to the defense of the south. The United Nations (UN) backed this commitment, and several member nations sent troops. With the United States at war, Truman relied heavily on his World War II generals. He put General Douglas MacArthur in command of UN forces in Korea and, a short time later, replaced Secretary of Defense Louis Johnson with General George Marshall, who had retired in 1949 after serving as secretary of state. Truman also had a job in mind for Eisenhower.

On October 28, Truman discussed with Eisenhower the possibility of becoming SACEUR. The North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) had been formed in April 1949, but the integrated military structure it envisioned had not yet been created and no commander had been named to lead it. Truman believed Eisenhower was the only one with the international prestige to succeed in this role. Eisenhower recorded his reaction in his diary later that day: “I am a soldier and I am ready to respond to whatever orders … the president, as commander in chief, may care to issue to me.”¹⁸ As for his feelings about the job of organizing NATO into a collective security force that could contain the Soviet Union, Eisenhower believed it was of the gravest importance. “I rather look upon this effort as about the last remaining chance for the survival of Western civilization,” he wrote to Swede Hazlett.¹⁹

Eisenhower had several important matters to attend to before departing for the Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE), located in Rocquencourt, a suburb of Paris. One was his presidency of Columbia. The board of trustees refused Eisenhower’s resignation and granted him an indefinite leave of absence while he performed his NATO duties. Two others would be more complicated. “Since the announcement of my appointment to the Supreme Command, I had been pondering what I could do to stop once and for all the speculation about my possible candidacy for the Presidency,” he recalled in At Ease. There was something else on his mind as well. “I felt I should try to persuade, in person, those opposed to our participation in the military defense of Europe.”²⁰

Most of the opposition to sending a large American force to Europe was within the Republican Party, and the leader of that opposition was Senator Robert Taft of Ohio, who had voted against U.S. participation in NATO. Taft was also the leading candidate for the Republican nomination for president in 1952. Eisenhower hoped “it might be possible … to kill two birds with one stone” by meeting with Taft. “My first purpose was to be assured that when I got to Europe, the United States government’s position would be solid in support of NATO. If such assurance were forthcoming, from the chief spokesman of what seemed to be the opposition, there was a way to kill off any further speculation about me as a candidate for the presidency.”²¹

Before his early February meeting with Taft, Eisenhower, with the help of two staff officers, wrote a statement that he would issue if Taft convinced him that he accepted U.S. participation in the collective defense of Western Europe. The statement “was so strong that, if made public, any political future for me thereafter would be impossible.” When Taft arrived the two men had a long talk. Eisenhower asked the senator if he would “support the concept of collective security for the North Atlantic community.” He explained that if Taft said yes, then he would be content to spend his “next years” at SHAPE. If Taft said no, then NATO would suffer and “I would probably be back.” The implications could not have been lost on Taft, but despite Eisenhower’s best attempt to persuade him, he would not commit himself. When Taft left, the general called in the staff officers who had helped him draft the statement and “tore it up in front of them.” Without Taft’s assurances, he wrote, “it would be silly for me to throw away whatever political influence I might possess.”²²

By the fall of 1950, a small group had formed with the objective of securing the Republican presidential nomination for Eisenhower. Among its founders were Brigadier General Edwin Clark, who had been a member of Eisenhower’s wartime staff and was now an attorney in New York, Massachusetts senator Henry Cabot Lodge, and James Duff. These three men met with Eisenhower several times in November and December of 1950, before the general took up his position at SHAPE.²³ Another member of the group was New York governor Tom Dewey, the Republican nominee for president in 1944 and 1948. Dewey understood that public association with him would be a liability for Eisenhower, so he remained in the background, relying on Lucius Clay to relay messages to the general. Eisenhower had known Clay since the late 1930s when they both served in the Philippines under Douglas MacArthur. Clay had succeeded Eisenhower as the military governor of the U.S. occupation zone in Germany—a position he still held at the time of the Berlin airlift. Association with these men led historian William Pickett to state that “by the time Eisenhower departed for his new military command, he was deeply involved with individuals and organizations who yearned for his presidential candidacy.”²⁴

So, when Eisenhower departed for Paris in February 1951, he had left the door open to a future political career. Through that door came a steady stream of visitors and an abundance of mail. Each caller and correspondent attempted to convince the general that he should return home as soon as possible to run for president. Since Eisenhower had no personal ambition to be president, one might reasonably ask why he did not simply close that door. The answer requires an understanding of duty as Eisenhower understood it. Eisenhower felt a strong sense of duty to his current job as SACEUR. But if he were to be offered the Republican Party’s presidential nomination, it would present him with a transcendent duty, and he would have to accept. Many of those who encouraged Eisenhower to run for president did not fully grasp his sense of duty and did not understand why he could not give them a straight yes or no answer.

In May 1951, Clay sent Eisenhower a detailed memorandum from Governor Dewey, who he referred to only as “our friend.” In the memorandum, Dewey used a code to refer to others who were laying the groundwork for a presidential campaign. In this code Senator Duff was “A.” At this time the code went only to “D,” but it was eventually expanded to “S.” The memo covered topics such as leadership, fund-raising, and the appropriate time for Eisenhower to return home and announce his candidacy. In his cover letter, Clay wrote “I hope you will let me know that it is satisfactory for me to proceed.” He assured the general that the steps recommended by Dewey could be done “without direct commitment from you” but was adamant that “we must move … there will be no one else who can unite this nation.”²⁵

Eisenhower’s mission as SACEUR—organizing the military establishments of NATO’s twelve member nations into a unified force for the collective security of the North Atlantic community—was an exceedingly difficult one. But it was a job that Eisenhower was uniquely qualified for and one that he personally believed was vital to the defense of the United States and its allies. He also understood that partisan political activity would not only violate army regulations but put his mission at risk. It was within this context that Eisenhower responded to Clay. “It is obvious that I cannot serve in this complex and critical military post if I should make a declaration of party affiliation or political interest,” he wrote on May 30. “As I have understood the reasoning of both ‘Our Friend’ and ‘A,’ they have separately concluded that there could develop circumstances that would leave me no opportunity of remaining aloof from all these problems. They seem to visualize a situation that would obviously represent a higher call to duty than does even my present job.” But Eisenhower had a different idea of what would represent a higher call, or a transcendent duty. “I am sure that none of them could imagine me in the role of assisting, even remotely, in bringing about such circumstances.” So, although Eisenhower believed that a presidential nomination would present him with a transcendent duty, he felt no duty to campaign for one. As for what the unnamed individuals referred to in the memo should do in his absence, Eisenhower wrote that they had a right to do as they pleased. “I am not going to make any comment … publicly or privately, on what they may or may not do in advancing what they believe to be the best interests of our country.”²⁶

In June 1951, a Gallup poll showed that Democrats preferred Eisenhower over Truman 43 percent to 18 percent and Republicans preferred Eisenhower over Taft 38 percent to 27 percent. In response, Eisenhower’s suitors became more persistent. To save time, the general developed a standard paragraph that he used in replies to those who implored him to declare his party preference and enter the race:

The job I am on requires the support of the vast body of Americans. For me to admit, while in this post, or to imply a partisan political loyalty would properly be resented by thinking Americans and would be doing a disservice to our country, for it would interfere with the job to which the country has assigned me. The successful outcome of this venture is too vital to our welfare in the years ahead to permit any semblance of partisan allegiance on the part of the United States Military Commander in SHAPE.²⁷

The Duff Letter

On September 4, Lodge visited the general in Paris. According to Eisenhower, this was one of seventy-eight meetings devoted to politics in the fall of 1951. This one, however, stands out. Lodge reviewed the Democratic Party’s success in the last five presidential elections. He believed that another Republican defeat would lead to the collapse of the two-party system, which was “vital to the ultimate preservation of our national institutions.” In addition to the systemic damage, Lodge lamented other consequences of successive Democratic administrations: “Gradual but steady accumulation of power in Washington, increased ‘paternalism’ in government’s relations with the citizens, constant deficit spending, and a steady erosion in the value of our currency.” These were all fears that Eisenhower shared.²⁸

Shifting the discussion to the shortcomings of the Republican Party, Lodge made an argument that resonated even more strongly with Eisenhower. It’s leadership, he said, had been taken over by the “Old Guard.” Isolationists like Taft, who opposed sending American troops to Europe for the purpose of collective security, “made the party appear unaware of the realities of the modern world.” What was needed, he concluded, was a Republican candidate who could “achieve at least a partial reversal of the trend toward centralization in government, irresponsible spending … and at the same time avoid the fatal errors of isolationism.” To be elected, this candidate would need to be popular enough to win not only Republican votes, but those of independents and discriminating Democrats as well. “You,” Lodge said to Eisenhower, “are the only one who can be elected by the Republicans to the presidency. You must permit the use of your name in the upcoming primaries.”²⁹

By this time Ike was used to such demands, but there was something different about Lodge’s visit. “He argued with the tenacity of a bulldog and pounded away on this theme until, as he left, I said I would ‘think the matter over.’ ” At the time he said this, Eisenhower thought he was merely saying what he needed to say to get Lodge out the door. He did not feel as though he had changed his thinking about running “in the slightest.” But as he looked back on this visit with Lodge, he thought of it as a turning point. “For the first time I had allowed the slightest break in a regular practice of returning a flat refusal to any kind of proposal that I become an active participant. From that time onward, both alone and through correspondence, I began to look anew—perhaps subconsciously—at myself and politics.”³⁰

Lodge’s visit to Paris laid the groundwork for a request from James Duff, now representing Pennsylvania in the U.S. Senate. Duff, in a memorandum to those working to secure the Republican nomination for Eisenhower, wrote that he was convinced that Taft’s wide support among party regulars, along with the party’s procedures for selecting delegates, “almost necessarily eliminates the possibility of [an Eisenhower] draft either before or at the convention.” It was imperative, he believed, for Eisenhower to give “definite and unqualified assurance” to a small group of people “that he will be a candidate on the Republican ticket” and “commit himself unqualifiedly to a campaign.” Such an assurance would allow a national organization to be formed without members fearing that Eisenhower would, at some late date, issue a rejection of their activities on his behalf. “The preservation of the two-party system and the future and security of the nation” required Eisenhower’s leadership. Clark agreed to go to Paris and seek such assurances.³¹

Clark arrived in Paris on October 13 and met with the general at SHAPE that afternoon. He explained Duff’s request for something in writing that would provide the assurances his supporters needed. The two men later went to Eisenhower’s home, the Villa-St. Pierre, in Marnes-la-Coquette and continued their conversation after dinner. According to Clark, he was able to convince Eisenhower to provide such assurances that evening, and the two of them made plans to draft a letter the following morning.³² The letter, quoted at the beginning of this chapter, was addressed to Senator Duff. In it, Eisenhower confirmed that he was a Republican and that he would regard a presidential nomination by the Republican Party a duty that would “transcend any other duty.” He said he would do nothing to gain such a nomination, but if it were given to him, he would resign his commission and campaign for the office. He stated no objection to the senator and other like-minded people organizing themselves for the purpose of securing such a nomination. In closing, Eisenhower said that the letter, marked “personal and secret,” was for his assurance and not for public release.³³

By the time Eisenhower and Clark had finished the letter a large group had gathered to celebrate Ike’s sixty-first birthday. The general joined the celebrants, and Clark returned to New York where he showed the letter to Senator Duff. Afterward he put the letter in a safe deposit box. Presumably, Duff and Clark referred to the letter to assure others that Eisenhower was a Republican and would accept the nomination if it was offered to him, but the letter itself stayed locked up. Based on an interview with Clark, historian William Ewald reported the existence of the Duff letter in his 1981 book Eisenhower the President, but Clark never showed Ewald the letter. After Clark’s death, Ewald contacted the executor of his estate, who found and showed him the letter. In 1993, Ewald published the letter in its entirety in the New York Times Magazine.³⁴

Just two days after Eisenhower wrote the Duff letter, Taft declared his presidential candidacy and the race for the nomination began. It is tempting to interpret the Duff letter as a decision on Eisenhower’s part to run for president. The letter was an important turning point for Eisenhower, but as with Lodge’s September visit, he does not seem to have realized it at the time. He had given Duff and other insiders the assurances that would, for a brief time, satisfy them, but Eisenhower himself was still conflicted. Two weeks after the Duff letter he wrote a long diary entry laying out the pros and cons of running. Eisenhower had met that day with “several individuals who brought up the political struggle in the United States.” Their presentation had provided the general with the arguments in favor of entering the race: (1) without serious opposition Taft would win the nomination before the convention; (2) Taft could not win the presidency—Truman would beat him easily; (3) four more years of Democratic government would put the country “so far on the road to socialism that there will be no return”; and (4) the only way to prevent this from happening would be for Eisenhower to return to the United States, enter the race, and win the nomination. In response to these arguments in favor of running, Eisenhower offered his own reasons why he should not: (1) “I do not want to be president of the United States”; (2) he currently held a job that he believed was very important for the future of the country; (3) while holding that job, he did not believe he had any right to engage in politics; and (4) he would not leave his current position to seek high political office “except in response to a clear call to duty.”³⁵

The conflict between number one, not wanting to be president, and number four, having a sense of duty that would require him to do something he did not want to do, defines Eisenhower’s struggle during this period. On the same day as this diary entry, he wrote letters to his friend Bill Robinson and his brother Milton. Robinson had recently written an editorial for the New York Herald Tribune endorsing Eisenhower for the presidency. The reason he was writing, he told them, “is to let you know that there has been no fundamental change in my thinking over the past several years because you both have known that I have always been ready to respond instantly to anything I saw as a clear duty. On the other hand, you both have known my complete lack of desire or ambition for any kind of political career.”³⁶ He let them know that he was planning a quick trip to the United States later in the week and would like to see the two of them. In a separate letter to Milton he added, “there have been a few small developments of which I think that you are unaware,” likely a reference to the Duff letter.³⁷

The official reason for Eisenhower’s early November trip to the United States was to make the case for additional tanks and other equipment necessary for the six armored U.S. divisions he was preparing for NATO. To this end, during his day in Washington he spent the morning at the Pentagon, had lunch with President Truman, and met with the NSC. The press, however, was more interested in Eisenhower’s political future, and they questioned him mercilessly about it. Given Eisenhower’s determination to make no political statements while still in uniform, he found this very frustrating. Immediately after his meeting with Truman, rumors circulated that the president had again urged Eisenhower to run for president as a Democrat, an assertion that Eisenhower flatly denied.³⁸ Despite his refusal to discuss politics publicly, however, his political future was on the agenda for the trip. He had breakfast with political confidant Lucius Clay, and a three-hour meeting with Bill Robinson, Cliff Roberts, and Milton Eisenhower in his plane on the tarmac at New York’s La Guardia airport. At these meetings Eisenhower confirmed the statements he had made in the Duff letter. He had taken another significant step toward candidacy.

In the days and weeks following his trip home the effort to make Eisenhower president of the United States became more organized. A suggestion from Cliff Roberts led to the creation of a personal advisory committee. Roberts, Bill Robinson, and Milton Eisenhower would be the key members of this group that placed Eisenhower’s personal interests above efforts to make him president. On November 10, Duff, Clay, and Herbert Brownell met with Tom Dewey to set up a formal campaign organization. They chose Lodge as chairman, put Brownell in charge of delegate strategy, and also created a finance committee and a Citizens-for-Eisenhower group. Dewey would continue to stay out of the spotlight, while Clay and Clark would act as liaisons between the official group and Eisenhower. Headquarters of the Eisenhower for President organization would be the Hotel Commodore in New York City. Eisenhower made personal recommendations for members of both groups.³⁹

Having assured key individuals of his party affiliation and his willingness to run if drafted and having participated in the establishment of his campaign organization, Eisenhower may have hoped that he could leave politics to the professionals and focus exclusively on his duties as SACEUR until such time that he was the recipient of a draft by the Republican Party. Although he was already in violation of army regulations, he was determined not to jeopardize the success of NATO by publicly associating himself with the efforts to make him president. The politicians were only briefly satisfied, however, and it was not long before Ike was complaining to Roberts that they were trying to drag him into politics. He warned of an impending “head-on collision” between what the politicians wanted him to do—campaign for the nomination—and what he believed was his duty: to carry on as SACEUR until called to a transcendent duty. “Some of these political enthusiasts are trying to make it appear that I have a duty to seek a nomination,” he wrote. “This is ridiculous.”⁴⁰

The head-on collision Ike feared turned out to be a near miss. On December 3, Lodge wrote to Eisenhower, telling him, “It is becoming vital that you appear and speak in various parts of the United States. People want to know what you think from your own lips… . Talk of a draft is no good anymore.” He even warned that failure to do so helped Taft, who was being praised for his willingness to discuss the issues.⁴¹ Eisenhower did not immediately respond, taking a few days to think it over. In his diary he wrote, “A day or so ago I received a comforting letter from Cabot Lodge… . He says that the project is hopeless without my active pre-convention cooperation! That settles the whole matter! … Since I cannot in good conscience quit here, my reaction is ‘Hurrah.’ I’ve just prepared a letter to Cabot saying that he and his friends must stop the whole thing, now.”⁴² In his letter to Lodge, he wrote “I accept, without reservation, your observations and comments on the political scene at home; you fully convince me of the impracticability of nominating an individual who, for any reason, must remain inactive in the political field prior to the national conventions… . Since my current responsibilities make pre-convention activity impossible for me, the program in which you and your close political associates are now engaged should, logically, be abandoned.”⁴³ Lodge’s response made clear that he had gotten the message. “Although some public word or intimation may well be eventually desirable,” he wrote, “I have always understood the grave difficulties involved in having you participate actively in a political contest at this time.”⁴⁴ Eisenhower’s follow-up suggests his earlier letter may have been a bluff. He wrote that Lodge’s letter “assures me that you clearly understand the position I shall maintain with respect to the effort you and your friends are making.”⁴⁵

This exchange of letters with Lodge, the chairman of the Eisenhower for President committee, is fascinating for several reasons. First, it shows that Eisenhower was serious about his unwillingness to publicly engage in politics while serving as SACEUR. Second, it shows that in both his diary and his correspondence he maintained that this was all happening without his participation, although we know this was not the case. Finally, it shows that Eisenhower did not believe that things had gone so far that he could not shut the operation down if he decided to.

On December 28, Eisenhower received a handwritten letter from President Truman. “Do what’s best for the country,” Truman wrote. “My own position is in the balance. If I do what I want to do I’ll go back to Missouri and maybe run for the Senate. If you decide to finish the European job (and I don’t know who else can) I must keep the isolationists out of the White House. I wish you would let me know what you intend to do. It will be between us and no one else.”⁴⁶ If taken at face value, Truman sincerely wanted to know what Ike’s intentions were, so that he could make his own plans. Eisenhower responded in kind. He wrote that he was “deeply touched” to have received such a letter from the president of the United States. Paraphrasing Truman’s “if I do what I want to do” line, Ike said that he “would like to live a semi-retired life with my family… . But just as you have decided that circumstances may not permit you to do exactly as you please, so I’ve found that fervent desire may sometimes have to give way to a conviction of duty.” As he had to others, he said that he felt no duty to seek a nomination and would not do so. Moreover, he would abstain from politics “unless and until extraordinary circumstances would place a mandate upon me that, by common consent, would be deemed a duty of transcendent importance.” All of this, while obscuring Eisenhower’s participation in the efforts of those seeking the nomination on his behalf, was consistent with what he had been saying all along. One line of his letter to the president does, however, stretch the truth a bit. “The possibility that I will ever be drawn into political activity,” he wrote, “is so remote as to be negligible.”⁴⁷

Moving toward Candidacy

Readers unfamiliar with the mid-twentieth-century presidential nomination process will likely assume that January of an election year is too late to begin a campaign. It is true that the new year would make it more difficult for Eisenhower to conceal his participation, but he still had plenty of time. In 1952, only thirteen states held Republican primaries, and only 39 percent of the delegates were pledged to candidates before the national convention in July. In comparison, 96 percent of the delegates to the national convention were pledged before the July 2020 national convention.

On December 17, New Hampshire governor Sherman Adams had written a letter to Lodge inquiring about Eisenhower’s party affiliation. By law, he explained, the names of individuals on the ballot for New Hampshire’s March 11 primary “shall be printed solely on petition of New Hampshire voters of the same party as the prospective candidates.” On behalf of the Eisenhower for President committee, and with Eisenhower’s authorization and input, Lodge responded on January 4 that “during 1948, 1949, and 1950, while he [Eisenhower] was serving as president of Columbia University, we several times discussed with him subjects of political and economic importance to the nation. During these discussions, he specifically informed us that his voting record was that of a Republican.” He explained that army regulations prohibited the general from engaging in any political activity and that the committee was “working to produce a clear-cut call to duty without participation on his part.” He concluded by saying that the signers of the petitions to put Eisenhower’s name on the ballot “are completely secure in their signed sworn statement that General Eisenhower is a member of their party.”⁴⁸ At a press conference on January 6, Lodge made his response to Adams public, and his letter was printed in the New York Times the following day. On that day the Times also endorsed Eisenhower for the presidency. At his press conference, Lodge said that if reporters needed further confirmation, they should get it from the general.⁴⁹

The following day, Eisenhower released a brief statement confirming what Lodge had attested to. Although the New York Times headline proclaimed, “Eisenhower Will Accept a G.O.P. Call,” the general’s statement did not resemble the declaration of an enthusiastic candidate. Eisenhower said that Lodge’s announcement had given “an accurate account” of his political convictions and Republican voting record. He also said that he would not campaign or participate in any preconvention activities. He understood that Senator Lodge and his associates were attempting to place before him a duty that would “transcend” his present responsibilities. In its absence, however, he would devote his full attention to NATO.⁵⁰

The same day he made his statement, Eisenhower wrote a letter to Clay expressing his annoyance that he had been forced to do so. “I was caught in a bit of a trap since the press representative insisted that Senator Lodge had said I was prepared to corroborate his statement,” he wrote. He found this “puzzling” since it was his understanding that “nothing further would be required of me.” He had resigned himself to the fact that the reporters would want him to confirm what Lodge had said but “was astonished to find that apparently, in response to questions, both senators [Lodge and Duff] had urged reporters to refer the whole matter to me.”⁵¹ In his diary, he added “I don’t give a d— how impossible a ‘draft’ may be. I’m willing to go part way in trying to recognize a ‘duty’—but I do not have to seek one—and I will not.”⁵²

Having taken the significant step of allowing his name to be entered in the New Hampshire primary, Eisenhower’s personal correspondence and diary entries for the next two months lead one to believe that he regretted his decision and even resented those who he believed had led him to this point. In a letter to Robinson, he even wondered if Lodge and his associates were, perhaps, “inept,” “stupid,” “hopeless,” or “futile.”⁵³ It was not until mid-March that something happened to make him feel like the whole thing may be worthwhile. On February 8, an event billed as a “Serenade to Ike” was held at Madison Square Garden in New York City. Due to its 11:30 p.m. start—the event could not begin until the attendees of a boxing match had left the arena—city officials had not anticipated a large turnout. To their surprise, more than fifteen thousand people attended the “serenade.” The rally was not an official Eisenhower for President event. It was organized by various citizens organizations and led by “stage, screen, radio, and television stars.” According to the New York Times, the crowd “showed great enthusiasm with frequent shouts of ‘I Like Ike.’ ”⁵⁴ One of the event’s organizers, celebrity aviator Jacqueline Cochran, had arranged for a film to be made of the event and, as soon as it was ready, brought it to Paris. On February 11, Eisenhower reported that she had arrived and was “burning with enthusiasm and the spirit of a crusader.”⁵⁵ Ike watched the film that night, and the next day he wrote in his diary that viewing it “developed into a real emotional experience for Mamie and me. I’ve not been so upset in years.”⁵⁶ His correspondence over the next week includes many references to the film. To Clay he wrote, “I think for the first time, there came home to me something of what it means to be the object of interest to a great section of packed humanity. Both of us are deeply touched, not to say moved.”⁵⁷

Eisenhower’s attitude toward the presidential race noticeably improved after Cochran’s visit. It even seemed that he was giving some consideration to campaigning before the convention. In a letter to a member of his personal advisory group, he admitted that “it could be argued … if I were to feel it my duty to accept a nomination, that I owe it to the voters to give them something substantial on which to base their decision.”⁵⁸ On the same day he wrote a long letter to Robinson, presenting his views on the long-term damage caused by high federal tax rates. This was in response to requests from Robinson and others that he make his positions on domestic issues known to the public. In letters like this he sought to clarify his own thoughts for a friendly audience, seeking advice and criticism.⁵⁹ “As you can see,” he wrote in a letter the following week to Clay, “my attitude has undergone a quite significant change since viewing the movie of the Madison Square Garden show and listening to your day long presentation of the activities now going forward in the United States.”⁶⁰

The presentation Eisenhower referred to had occurred in London, where the general and Clay had both attended the funeral of King George VI. In his presentation, Clay had suggested a timeline of events that Eisenhower was more comfortable with than those previously offered. As of mid-February, Clay believed, Eisenhower and Taft each had about half of the committed delegates. Those remaining would not commit until June or July. Eisenhower, therefore, should stay in Europe and avoid the mudslinging that would accompany a futile struggle in the spring. He could then return in June, undamaged from a campaign, and capture most of the remaining delegates. Although Eisenhower had been adamant that he would not take part in any preconvention activities, he was beginning to accept that it would be necessary, and Clay’s timeline held out the possibility that he could complete his duty at SHAPE before returning home. He “tentatively agreed” to Clay’s timeline but reserved the right to determine his own date of return.⁶¹

On March 11, despite heavy rain and snow, turnout for the New Hampshire primary was excellent. Eisenhower won 50 percent of the vote, and Taft, despite hard campaigning during a three-day tour of the state, won only 38 percent. Eisenhower also won all fourteen of the states’ convention delegates. On the Democratic side, Senator Estes Kefauver (TN) pulled off a surprising win over President Truman. Eisenhower received word of his New Hampshire victory on an airplane returning to Paris after a trip to Germany, but on his arrival, he told the reporters who surrounded his plane that he did not know how the primary had turned out. They were excited to share the results with him, offering their sincere congratulations and allowing the general to bask in his victory.⁶²

Eisenhower benefitted from an even more impressive outcome the next week in Minnesota. There were only two candidates for the Republican nomination on the ballot. One was Harold Stassen, the former governor of Minnesota. Stassen believed that someone had to stop Taft and the isolationists from taking over the party leadership but had assured Eisenhower of his support should Ike decide to run. The other candidate on the ballot was Edward Slettedahl, a public-school teacher. Stassen won the primary with 43 percent of the vote. Eisenhower, without any organized effort on the part of his campaign, received an incredible 81,840 write-in votes, enough for 38 percent of the total and a second-place finish. Taft, also a write-in candidate, came in a distant third with 8 percent of the vote. Speaking to reporters at SHAPE the following day, Ike told them he was “astonished” by the result and said, “The mounting numbers of my fellow citizens who are voting to make me the Republican nominee are forcing me to re-examine my personal position and past decisions.” He was delighted that some voters, perhaps unsure of the spelling of his name, had simply written in “Ike.”⁶³

On March 24, Brownell arrived in Paris, and the next day he spent ten hours with Eisenhower. Brownell had managed Dewey’s 1944 and 1948 campaigns and had also served as chairman of the Republican National Committee. Brownell told Eisenhower that, in his opinion, he could win the presidency. But he also told him that “it was entirely unrealistic to expect a draft. He would have to fight for the nomination.” Brownell explained that Taft already had 40 percent of the delegates, with the remaining delegates available for a moderate delegate like himself, Stassen, or California governor Earl Warren, both of whom were campaigning. “If Eisenhower did not soon declare publicly that he was a candidate,” Brownell told him, “Taft would be the nominee.” To be successful, he suggested that Eisenhower “return to the United States at least a month before the convention, declare himself a candidate, speak in various parts of the country on the issues, and above all meet personally with as many delegates as possible before and at the convention.” Brownell later recalled that this appeared to surprise the general, and he believed that the conversation was an “important turning point for him.”⁶⁴

Brownell’s visit may have been a turning point for Eisenhower, but the analysis he shared cannot have been too great a surprise. It did not differ significantly from what Clay had told him in London, and he had already told Clay and others that he would “attempt” a June 1 return.⁶⁵ He had also told the press that he would have to “rethink” his January 7 statement as a result of the New Hampshire and Minnesota primaries. After Brownell’s departure, Eisenhower wrote Clay. “Mr. Brownell,” he said, did not press too hard for a May 15 date, “although he was quite certain that June 1st would be just about the limit… . My thought is that your group should not commit me to anything during the month of May. To make my move home and get settled, I shall have to remain in uniform that long… . And during that period, I could make only the most non-partisan of talks.” Following this typewritten sentence, he had added in his own handwriting: “Preferably none.”⁶⁶ Eisenhower made his departure imminent on April 2 with a letter to President Truman. “I am requesting the Secretary of Defense to initiate action to bring about relief from my current post as Supreme Commander, Allied Powers Europe, on or about June 1st of this year,” it began. He explained that although the work of SHAPE would not be finished by that time, “the special organizational and initial planning missions that were deemed critical in the late weeks of 1950 have now been accomplished.” The June 1 date, he explained, would give him time to complete the projects that he was handling personally, orient his successor, and make a final visit to the capital of each NATO state. Although he did not specifically say that he was coming home to run for president, he did admit that “political incidents” had influenced the timing of the request. “In the event that I should be nominated for high political office,” he added, “my resignation as an officer of the Army will be instantly submitted to you for your approval.” By this time there is no doubt that Truman, who had just announced that he would not be seeking another term, understood Eisenhower was already running for president.⁶⁷

Eisenhower announced his departure to the public on April 11 and spent the remainder of his time in Europe carrying out the duties that he had outlined in his letter to Truman. He did his best to avoid purely political activity during his remaining time in uniform but, nonetheless, appeared very presidential while meeting with the NATO heads of state. On Sunday, June 1, he arrived in Washington, DC, where he was greeted with a seventeen-gun salute. After two days of ceremonies and meetings, including a Truman-led tour of his future home, the newly remodeled White House, Eisenhower left the capital for his hometown of Abilene, Kansas.

It would be convenient to conclude a chapter on Eisenhower’s decision to run for president by quoting a speech in which he made that long-awaited declaration: “I am a candidate for president of the United States.” Interestingly, he never made such a declaration. In the speech he made in Abilene on June 4, Eisenhower spoke more openly about his political beliefs than ever before, and at a press conference the next day, he was even more overtly political.⁶⁸ But, although it was clear to everyone that he was now running for president, he did not announce his candidacy. When asked if he thought he could defeat Taft for the nomination he replied, “I haven’t the slightest idea,” but at least he had not rejected the premise of the question. In fact, he said that he had come home because “it was impossible for me to remain there and at the same time to carry on in the status that I had allowed to be set up for me in the United States.” This was as close to an admission that he had participated in the creation of his campaign that he would make.⁶⁹

During the month between his speech in Abilene and the Republican convention, Eisenhower spent the majority of his time in places that he would have had a reason to be regardless of the campaign: his residence in New York City, his farm in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and Denver, Colorado, where Mamie’s parents lived. The few speeches he made, like the one in Abilene, were political, but they did not directly criticize Taft or Truman. This would allow him, and future historians, to claim that he had been the recipient of a genuine draft. But Eisenhower’s nomination was not a foregone conclusion, and despite his insistence that he would never engage in preconvention campaigning, the general spent most of the month before the convention meeting with delegates. As John Robert Greene argued in I Like Ike, without the strategy put in place by his campaign committee, particularly Lodge and Brownell, Eisenhower could easily have lost the nomination to Taft. If Eisenhower had not returned, even that strategy may not have been enough.⁷⁰

Eisenhower was not drafted at the convention, as some early historians of his presidency claimed. Although he did not campaign for the nomination, he did give aid and encouragement to those who sought the nomination on his behalf. This type of activity is consistent with other aspects of his presidency that have been revealed by Eisenhower revisionists. Although some admirers of Eisenhower might prefer to believe that he was the recipient of a genuine convention draft, his participation in the campaign should not detract from his reputation. He decided to run out of an extraordinary sense of duty—he truly had no ambition to hold the office. He feared that if Robert Taft became president, it would risk everything he had worked for as supreme allied commander, both during the war and after. He also feared that if a Democrat were elected president it would lead to the breakdown of the two-party system and perpetuate the centralization of power in the federal government. Originally, he believed that only the nomination of his party would present him with a transcendent duty to run. However, when he realized that such a nomination was possible, but not assured, he made the decision to return to the United States and play a more active role. Eisenhower had found balance between what others were demanding of him and what he believed was his duty to his country. Eisenhower’s presidency suggests that we would do well to identify candidates who balance their personal and partisan goals with a similar commitment to duty.