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Wherever the ultras arise, they cause domestic acrimony. Some members of the Dallas Junior League recently succeeded in scuttling the showing, at a charitable exhibition, of the works of a Communist artist—Pablo Picasso. Many a P.T.A. has been broken into factions when the anti-Communists moved into local chapters; and known liberals in Phoenix are harassed by anonymous telephone calls. The wrath of the rightists is sometimes turned toward their idols at the first hint of clay feet. When Frank McGehee's National Indignation meeting in Dallas was unable to raise a pair of conservative Republicans. Senator John Tower and Congressman Bruce Alger, on the telephone—after both had agreed to address the gathering on the phone—McGehee angrily took the stage and shouted: "They have signed their death notes as politicians in the U.S." Several minutes later. Alger came to the phone and all was forgiven. A McGehee aide had simply dialed a wrong number.
"Superpatriotism." The ultras expect little sympathy from the press, which they consider Communist-dominated: to spread their views, they publish their own huge mass of literature. The organizations often exchange mailing lists, support several large and profitable publishing houses. One of the main fonts of rightist literature is Harding College in Searcy, Ark., a small liberal arts college run by members of the Church of Christ under President George Benson, a silver-haired, bespectacled gentleman who is given to such phrases as "By Caesar!" Benson's school claims that 25 million people a year come in contact with the material issued by Harding's National Education Program, which turns out tons of literature, plus the films, filmstrips, kits and flannelboard presentations so favored by the far rightists in their forums. Similarly, Manhattan's Bookmailer Inc. has built a tremendous mail-order business by putting out anti-Communist books and literature.
But even as it has burgeoned, the far right has wrought its strong counter-reactions. Its "superpatriotism" has recently come in for strong criticism from President Kennedy and former President Eisenhower, from Vice President Johnson and former Vice President Nixon, and from leaders of Roman Catholic, Protes tant and Jewish churches. American Motors Chairman George Romney, a conservative who is considering running next year as Republican candidate for Governor of Michigan, recently shook up a meeting of the All-American Society in Salt Lake City by telling the audience: "Infiltration of Communism is not the greatest problem facing our country. It is the failure to deal with the problems within our own country and the failure to exercise our responsibility to the yearning millions of the world who are not as fortunate as we."
Simply denouncing the policies of the far right is not likely to temper its fanaticism, for it thrives on martyrdom—and is only too happy to add its critics to its list of subversives. If the members of the far right are to be wooed back into normal channels of political expression, politicians must patiently face the task of convincing them that at the present time the real danger to the nation lies from without, and that the way to fight that danger is to encourage unity at home and unflinching policies abroad that reflect the best interests of the U.S.