In the free-spoken, never-adjourned town meeting which the vast American democracy tries to resemble, one subject that had long been on people's minds had never, until last week, been put squarely on the agenda. That was the Presidential candidacy of General Douglas MacArthur.
For a year and more the polls had shown MacArthur to be a likely contender. There could be no doubt that hundreds of thousands of plain people (without much ideology) thought highly of him. But still the figurative chairman of the ail-American town meeting never let him become the topic of free and frank discussion. There was, of course, good reason: most of all, the fact that the General himself was working away at his fighting job.
In the absence of free discussion much side-alley talk ensued. The lunatic fringe of the Left tried to identify him with fascism—an effort in which they were aided by characters on the lunatic Right such as Gerald Smith who spoke in his favor. And there arose the unseemly sport of "smearing" MacArthur. But generally, despite an occasional serious utterance such as the open advocacy of Senator Arthur Vandenberg, most of the press and radio kept dead-pan to the attitude that MacArthur-for-President was not a proper subject for discussion.
Last week all that was suddenly changed. Hot on his showing in the Wisconsin primary, where he ran second to New York's Governor Dewey and picked up three delegates, General MacArthur swamped a political unknown in Illinois's preferential primary. Illinois's 59 delegates will not be pledged to him; but the 500,000 votes he piled up were an impressive indication of strength.
Then came the big news. A Republican freshman, Congressman Albert Lewis Miller of Kimball, Neb., suddenly remembered that he had in his pocket a couple of letters from General MacArthur—and released them to the press. Miller, once an able, prosperous physician, owned a hospital in Kimball until 1934, when he lost both his legs in a hunting accident. He traveled every country in the world but three (Turkey, Afghanistan, Greece), and then took up politics. But politics is no easy science; Dr. Miller did not seem aware of what he had now done. He had met the General twice—once in Nebraska and once in Europe.
The Correspondence.
"Dear General:
"There is a tremendous groundswell in this country against the New Deal. They have crucified themselves on the cross of too many unnecessary rules and regulations. . . .
"You should permit the people of the country to draft you for President. . . . I am convinced you will carry every state in the Union. . . . Let your friends in this country nail to the cross the many vicious propaganda, underhanded moves which will be started to smear and destroy you.
"The New Deal, including President Roosevelt, is scared to death of the movement in this country for you. ... I am certain that unless this New Deal can be stopped this time our American way of life is forever doomed. You owe it to civilization and the children yet unborn to accept the nomination. . . . You will be our next President."
General MacArthur replied, evidently much struck by the Congressman's grasp of everything:
"Dear Congressman Miller: