Fall 1996
Click on hypertext to jump to the essay:
Beginnings. The political party convention was born in 1831. Before that time, nominees for President and Vice-President were chosen by Congressional caucuses. The Congressional caucus enjoyed several inherent features that suited it to this task: it was composed of the best and most knowledgeable political leaders, it represented states all over the nation, it met with relative ease in or around the capital, and it had established procedures for making decisions on behalf of voters in widely scattered states.
But by the 1830s several developments encouraged the rise of a new system. In many states, the Congressional delegation was composed entirely of members of one party; thus the caucus failed to represent all states. In some states, the party leaders were often at odds with the Congressional delegation; thus the caucus failed to represent different points of view within the party. Candidates had to curry favor among members of Congress; thus the caucus encouraged Presidents and the presidency to be dependent on Congress. Most of all, the rapid expansion of suffrage in the early 1800s stimulated demand for a more democratic and representative procedure for selecting party nominees for President and Vice-President.
The Anti-Mason Party was the first to hold a national nominating convention. In September 1831 they met in Baltimore and nominated William Wirt on the first ballot. And while conventions underwent continual change during the next century, that change was slow and gradual. Baltimore has hosted ten conventions, the most recent being the Democrats in 1912; had he been present, William Wirt could have easily understood what was happening.
The convention served three main functions. First, it allowed party leaders from all states to meet, articulate their needs and concerns, and resolve them by compromise. Second, it permitted broad participation in party affairs while remaining outside of Congressional control. Third, it helped to unify the parties behind their respective nominees.
The present decline of the convention has come about because these three functions are now served in other ways. New twentieth-century communications allow party leaders to exchange ideas easily without having to meet in convention. But the real erosion of the convention can be traced to two other developments: the presidential primary and the electronic news media.
Primaries. In 1908, the Republicans authorized state delegations to use primary elections to choose a nominee. Primaries had been introduced in many areas as a Progressive reform, and the presidential primary was a logical application of the idea. However, the vast majority of convention delegates were still chosen by state party bosses, and they voted as the bosses told them to do. The convention provided the forum in which the bosses chose from among the handful of prominent nominees.
The primaries were revitalized by the 1956 campaign of Estes Kefauver, a Democrat. Kefauver had no particular base among the state party leaders, who collectively held the votes that delivered the nomination. If he were to win the nomination, he would have to demonstrate to those leaders that he could be elected. He spent parts of three months trudging through New Hampshire, pleading with Democrats for their votes. Adlai Stevenson, the presumptive nominee, saw no point in fighting for New Hampshire's eight convention votes, especially since he had the support of the state party leaders. Kefauver -- who was in effect running unopposed -- won with a stunning 84% of the vote.
Stevenson quickly plunged into the remaining primaries and won enough of them to allay what few fears any party leaders might have had, and easily won nomination at the convention. Inexplicably, however, Stevenson decided not to name his own choice for the vice-presidential nomination. He declared he would accept the choice of the convention. Kefauver won that nomination, helped significantly by his delegates and name recognition.
Kefauver's major opponents for the 1956 vice-presidential nomination were Senators Hubert Humphrey and John Kennedy. Both men tried to use the lessons of 1956 to their advantage in 1960. Each thought he could win the presidential nomination in 1960. Each also knew he had to convince state party leaders that he could win the election. Each felt he had to hit the primary trail to prove his electability. Kennedy entered seven of the sixteen primaries, Humphrey five. Kennedy's successes in the primaries helped him win the nomination. Candidates had learned by example: primaries were a good way to get yourself noticed by party leaders and thereby win nomination.
But the party reforms of the 1960s, driven largely by the Democrats, gave still greater emphasis to primaries. At the 1964 convention, a credentials challenge by a group called the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party led to a resolution that at future conventions no delegations would be seated from states where the right to vote was denied because of race. In 1968, the supporters of Eugene McCarthy and the assassinated Robert Kennedy complained with some justice that, when state party bosses were dominant and when delegates were selected long in advance of the convention, the convention was not properly representative of the party. The convention created the McGovern- Fraser commission to respond to these concerns. The commission established several complex criteria by which a state party could choose a fair and representative delegation. The easiest way for state parties to meet the McGovern-Fraser requirements was by holding primaries. Often, primaries were established by state law, affecting both Democrats and Republicans.
Therefore, primary elections became the most widespread method of selecting delegates -- and the most important way for candidates to win delegates. The bosses were increasingly marginalized in the nominating process. The convention had no power to choose a nominee, only to ratify the choices made in the state primaries (and to a lesser extent state caucuses).
Media. The conventions of 1924 were the first to be broadcast on radio. Calvin Coolidge easily won the GOP nomination. Coolidge was a poor platform speaker but an outstanding radio speaker. His conversational style and clear diction endeared him to radio audiences. The Democratic nominee, John Davis, was not well suited to radio. Moreover, the Democrats suffered from terrible timing: the first radio convention was the longest in party history. Few radio listeners had the stamina to stay tuned for all 103 ballots and all 17 days. Neither Al Smith of New York nor William Gibbs McAdoo of California could garner the two-thirds majority required for nomination, but neither one would withdraw in favor of the other. Davis eventually emerged as an acceptable compromise.
The Democrats had required a two-thirds majority for the nomination since its first convention in 1832. For many years, the two-thirds rule had effectively given the South a veto over the nomination. There had been several attempts in the past to eliminate the rule. But the debacle of 1924 invigorated a new campaign to rescind the two- thirds rule, which finally succeeded in 1936.
Franklin Roosevelt was the first man to accept his nomination at the convention in person, also in 1936. His radio skills are legendary, and he displayed them at the conventions as well. His 1936 acceptance speech ("This generation of Americans has a rendezvous with destiny") stirred the radio audience as well as the live audience in Philadelphia. In 1940, he accepted the nomination by radio, broadcasting to Chicago from a naval installation in San Diego.
The 1940 Republican convention was briefly aired on television, but it could only be viewed in Philadelphia, where the convention itself was held. Both conventions were aired for the first time in 1948, but again they could only be viewed in cities between New York and Washington. Nevertheless, the intensely competitive television networks quickly made television coverage of conventions essential to their organizations. Conventions would be broadcast for the foreseeable future.
The parties did not know how to handle television. Radio broadcasts were relatively innocuous, involving mostly the platform speaker and sometimes the voice of the reporter. But television was not as forgiving as radio. Television showed delegates -- a bunch of white men in suits -- ignoring the speaker, reading newspapers, chatting, smoking, eating, or sleeping, activities which did not reflect well on the party. This was standard fare for the conventions; while they contained many stirring moments, they were also often dull, and much work was done away from the platform. Even if the delegates were rapt with attention for the speaker, they hardly presented an arresting visual for the cameras.
But these were minor sins compared to the genuinely ugly behavior that later appeared on television. At the 1964 Republican convention, the delegates were roused to frenzy during a speech by Dwight Eisenhower. He invited the delegates to scorn the "sensation-seeking columnists and commentators" of the media -- which they promptly did, live -- and to avoid "maudlin sympathy for the criminal" who counts on the coddling of the courts to ease his way -- and they howled again. They snarled when Nelson Rockefeller defiantly addressed them; they screamed when Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon spoke on behalf of nominee Barry Goldwater. The nation watched as Goldwater's supporters made a frightening display.
But what the cameras did not see was the Goldwater campaign's efforts to control the demonstrations of the delegates. Already the Republicans knew that what the cameras captured could be devastating to a candidate. They failed to keep the delegates under control in 1964; they would be thoroughly prepared in 1968.
The Democrats had their turn at disaster in 1968. Protest demonstrations inside and outside the convention hall alienated conservative America; the zealous Chicago police alienated liberal and moderate America. The convention could not keep to a schedule; Hubert Humphrey, the nominee, was booed; the incumbent Democratic President was booed. In short, the viewers saw a party mired in chaos. By contrast, the Republican convention at Miami Beach showed the television audience a party that was able to control itself, and by implication govern the nation in a sensible manner. There were no protests, no violence. All the viewers saw were hundreds of pleasant- looking people, all extremely happy about the prospects of voting for Richard Nixon.
Today, both parties have learned their lessons well. They treat the conventions as four nights of free air time and four days of media events, and they manage that time with exquisite care. Campaign films are broadcast, often without any interruption by the broadcasters; spontaneous demonstrations and dances for candidates are carefully choreographed and regulated. Everyone knows who the nominee will be, so there is nothing to be gained by a demonstration for any other candidate. Nothing that detracts in any way from the coronation of the nominees and the distribution of the party's message is permitted. The delegates are not given the option of making any decisions, since decisions are unpredictable and may not fit the happy image of the party. And so the convention becomes even less significant.
The Future. Thus the national party convention is a feeble shadow of its old self. It no longer has any real role in selecting nominees, brokering the interests of different states and parties, or unifying the party.
This development is not necessarily to be regretted. The convention was born because its predecessor, the caucus, no longer adequately performed what was asked of it. Now that the convention is outmoded, it too deserves to pass honorably into retirement and to be replaced by another system.
In this seminar it has become our usual practice to speculate on the future of the nominating process. I am not at all sure what *will* happen, but it is easy to see what *might* happen regarding the convention. We have often talked about the continuing trend toward a universal primary of some kind. (Incidentally, my own preference would be for a series of regional primaries over a number of weeks, which is a possibility we haven't discussed much. Such a series would require candidates to focus on the needs of particular regions, preserving geographic diversity without the overemphasis on a particular state that, say, New Hampshire or Florida receives under the current system; candidates would also have to demonstrate support across several different regions.)
Once that trend realizes itself, there is certainly no need for a convention to cast votes for a nominee. The party leaders in each state can simply transmit vote totals to the national committee for tabulation. On a given day, the national committee would formally confer nomination and ratify the choice for Vice-President. The Contract with America demonstrates that a party platform can be adopted without the approval of a convention; the national committee can approve and promulgate a platform in the same way. Any brokerage of party interests can be resolved by party leaders over a period of time, since they no longer have to gather in one place in order to reach quick decisions. The media can offer each party one night in prime time to spread its message, thus minimizing its expenses and avoiding the fiction that conventions are "news."
One very important function that this convention-less future cannot carry out is that of rewarding party workers with a trip to the Big Show. Party leaders will have to come up with new and ingenious ways to reward their foot soldiers. But they certainly have incentive to do so. The day of the national convention has passed; it is time for the parties to get on with designing the next phase.
Bibliography
Terry Madonna
Millersville University
Date: Thu, 23 May 1996 19:05:34 -0500
From: TMADONNA@MU3.MILLERSV.EDU
Just a note on Jon Enriquez's fine piece of commentary and analysis, "The Decline of the Nomination Convention."
First, William Crawford of Georgia was the nominee of the Congressional Caucus in 1824, but the supporters of Andrew Jackson, Henry Clay and John Q. Adams refused to accept its legitimacy, attacking the aristocratic aspects of what they called "King Caucus." These men were "put forward" by their respective state legislatures as presidential candidates.
Second, the use of the Caucus was really a practice consistent with the "national" focus of the first political parties, consistent in the sense that issues and policies emanated from Philadelphia and later Washington which were then carried out to rest of the country.
Third, it's hard to make the case that Thomas Jefferson curried favor with congress. He set the agenda, manipulated its members in a way that FDR would have envied.
Fourth, the reformers in 1968 could make a compelling argument for a more open, inclusive national convention. Humphrey was able to win the 1968 Democratic nomination without entering a single primary.
Fifth, JFK had another tough job in 1960, convincing party leaders that a Catholic could be elected president. In Pennsylvania, for example, the state's leading Democratic politician, Governor Dave Lawrence, was for a good part of the run-up time to the 1960 election convinced that JFK's Catholicism made him a loser to Nixon.
Sixth, regional primaries would likely produce the same results as the current mish-mash. If there were five or six regional primaries, the weaker candidates would not survive the first one or two, and surely by the third or fourth, the nomination would be settled. Why not just adopt a Wilsonian idea: a national nominating primary, allowing all the country's voters to participate on an equal footing.
G. Terry Madonna gtm@mu3.millersv.edu Millersville University of Pennsylvania