A Shade of Difference (84 page)

“We were given noble purposes by our founders to begin with, and, being human, we have often fallen short of them. But that does not mean that we have lost them, or that we should not continually and forever try to make them stronger and more effective in our national living. In the area of race relations, as in all other areas, we have an obligation, it seems to me, to do certain things for no other reason
than that they are right.

“If we will so act, Mr. President, history may in the long run turn out to be kinder to us than we sometimes think, at this fearful juncture in mankind’s affairs, that history is going to be.

“For this reason, I too, like the distinguished Senators from South Carolina and Massachusetts, am not impressed with what world opinion thinks about us, on this or any other matter. I do not regard world opinion as a valid reason for passing this, or any other, piece of legislation. I do regard as valid the just and honorable purposes for which America stands, however imperfectly. On that basis, I urge the passage of this resolution.”

And, to a scattering of applause and some congratulatory murmurs, he sat down.

“Congratulations, darling,” Kitty Maudulayne said to Dolly Munson in the Family Gallery, “I do think that was wonderful.”

“He can do it, when he gets inspired,” Dolly said, looking gratified. Patsy Labaiya leaned over and tapped her on the knee.

“Why doesn’t HE run for President? Then Ted and Orrin could relax and Beth and I could stop meowing at each other like a COUPLE OF OLD CATS!”

“That’s not a meow, it’s a purr,” Beth Knox said cheerfully, as Celestine Barre listened attentively between them. “Anyway, Harley’s going to run again, so it’s all academic. Isn’t that right, Lucille?”

“Who knows?” the First Lady inquired, of no one in particular. “My dear, who knows? I
do
think Bob is terrific, though, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Dolly said, “but here comes Seab, girls, so hold your hats.”

Below them on the floor there was a stirring and settling, a growing tension and anticipation. Beside Senator Munson, the rumpled figure of the President Pro Tempore rose slowly to its feet.

“Mr. President,” Seab Cooley said softly, “I do want to congratulate the Majority Leader on a fine and patriotic address, worthy of delivery at anybody’s Fourth of July picnic. I do not think, Mr. President, that any American could disagree with the basic thoughts presented in that fine address. It is only in the application that men may differ. For arguments concerning that, there perhaps will be other times than these closing hours of what has been a long and, in earlier months, a tragic session of this Senate.” He paused and allowed the memory of the tragedy to come back briefly and touch them all.

“Mr. President,” he went on, a little more strongly, “I know it is no oversight that the distinguished Majority Leader carefully refrained from going into the details of this resolution. No, sir, I know it was no accident that he did not discuss the events leading up to it, or the parallel events in the United Nations that have put this Congress, in both its houses, under fearful pressures to act, and act unwisely, in this matter. I know it was not mere inadvertence, Mr. President.” His voice dropped to a gusty whisper. “It was deliberate, Mr. President. It was de-li-ber-ate! The distinguished Majority Leader did not
want
us to discuss what is behind it. He did not
want
us to consider the ramifications of it. He did not want us to talk about the humiliation of the United States implicit in this shabby resolution. No, sir, Mr. President,” he cried, and his voice suddenly roared up angrily. “He did not want us to understand that we were being asked to humiliate our own country! Humiliation, Mr. President. That is what it is, humiliation!”

“Oh, hell,” the
Washington
Post
said in a bored whisper. “Does any sane man want to listen to that? “Quite a few, apparently,” said the
Wall Street Journal.
“Look at ’em.”

And indeed the Senate was listening, and there were indications already that Seab might be gaining adherents. The Administration might have been busy, but it was apparent that there were still many troubled minds in the upper chamber. The President Pro Tempore sensed it with the instinct of many years of legislative battle and was heartened. He stood straighter at his desk and looked around the Senate with a searching glance as his voice gained vigor.

“Now, Mr. President, reduced to its essentials, what is the situation? There was introduced about a month ago in the United Nations a resolution by Felix Labaiya, Ambassador of Panama; I will not go into the question of Señor Labaiya’s relatives by marriage, for we are all acutely aware of them.” (“The old FRAUD!” Patsy whispered in the Family Gallery, and stuck out her tongue. There was a ripple of laughter, and Verne Cramer in the Chair rapped impatiently for order.) “The gist of this resolution, Mr. President, was to call for the immediate independence of the British protectorate of Gorotoland in Africa, home of strange practices and sinister rites and at least one kinky-haired kinkajou who shows the dangers of what happens when you educate some people. Mr. President, I shall not pass upon the merits of that. I understand the British are against it, having pledged independence a year hence and being orderly people who deem that period necessary for a smooth transition of power. I understand our Administration, urged on by one who lately sat among us, the distinguished Secretary of State, may be for it—ill-advisedly, as I believe; but, no matter.

“Following a big publicity fandango for His Royal Highness the Emboohoo of Embewley in my state of South Carolina—put on, I might say parenthetically, by the politically interested relatives by marriage of the Ambassador of Panama, including his brother-in-law, the great Governor of California—the Emboohoo decided to mix voluntarily and egregiously and inexcusably into the school integration problems of the city of Charleston. I do not know who put him up to this, Mr. President, though like many Senators I have my suspicions. Certainly they were not friends of the United States. The Ambassador was there; the Governor was there; others were there. At any rate, as a result of his intervention he received certain violent demonstrations of disapproval from citizens of that lovely city. I do not pass upon whether or not he deserved them, Mr. President I just say he asked for them. Yes, sir, he certainly did ask for them. And—he—got them!

“Well, then, Mr. President. Next he went to the United Nations, up there in the great city of New York which does such a fine job of handling its own race relations and such a fine job of telling everybody else how to handle theirs, and he appeared before the General Assembly. And the Ambassador of Panama, related by marriage to certain distinguished Americans as he is, promptly introduced an amendment to his resolution calling upon the United Nations to investigate racial conditions in the United States, carrying with it the threat of expulsion of the United States from the United Nations unless certain racial laws and practices and traditions are not immediately changed.”

The Senator from South Carolina paused and looked thoughtfully about the attentive chamber. A look of contempt came upon his shrewd old face and his voice sank to an intimate, almost conversational tone.

“Now, mark you, Mr. President, what the response was of the great Secretary of State and the fearless President, who six months ago in Geneva won the admiration of the world by his calm refusal to be intimidated by the threats of the Soviet Union. Did they denounce this so-called Labaiya Amendment for what it was, an inexcusable and fantastic insult to the United States? Did they condemn those who had at least indirectly instigated the shameful episode in Charleston—members of distinguished political families who now seek to weasel out of their responsibility? Did they uphold the dignity and self-respect of the United States in the face of this vicious attack upon it? No, sir, Mr. President, they did not. They crawled, Mr. President. They showed signs of timidity and fear. They apologized and they trembled and they said, oh, dear me, what can we do to make you who hate us love us better? And out of their timidity and their fear and their lack of self-respect, Mr. President, they produced this strange resolution, which is before us now.

“Do not beat us, United Nations! they cried. Do not condemn us, kindly little black brothers of the world! Do not be harsh toward us, dear Soviet Union and all your gentle friends! Look—we will do it ourselves!
We will do it ourselves!
Just leave us alone for a week and we will punish ourselves as severely as you like. And, Mr. President”—and his voice dropped again to its near-whisper, “do you know? That is exactly what they are trying to do. Yes, sir, Mr. President,
that is exactly what they are trying to do!”

“Mr. President,” Bob Munson said, “will the Senator yield?”

“No, sir, Mr. President!” Seab Cooley cried. “No, sir, I will not yield to the distinguished Majority Leader who is joining in this pathetic attempt to appease enemies of the United States who simply are not to be appeased, Mr. President. I notice that the Senator does not spend much time on the United Nations, Mr. President. He carefully avoids reference to it. He bases his reasons for his support of this resolution on his concept of the United States. But he knows that if it were not for the United Nations and its pack of addleheaded agitators, Mr. President, this resolution would not be before us at all. He thinks no more of that than many of us do, and so he carefully refrains from any endorsement of the United Nations.

“Is that not true, I ask the Majority Leader; and I will yield now for any clarification he may care to make.”

“Mr. President,” Bob Munson said, “I thank the Senator. I am not surprised that the Senator should have seized upon my omission of the United Nations as a launching-pad from which to fire his oratorical missiles. I certainly do not wish to have anyone draw the inference that I am against the United Nations, Mr. President, or that I do not think American adherence to it is valuable for us and necessary for the world. I simply meant that to my mind there is a reason more valid for us than what the United Nations thinks, and that is what we know we should do to be true to ourselves. I do not think we will find that if we are true to ourselves the United Nations will condemn us, Mr. President. On the contrary. But certainly I do not minimize the value of the United Nations, or of our adherence to it.”

“Well,” Senator Cooley replied. “I will say to the Senator that I minimize it, and so do a great many other Americans, and the number is growing, Mr. President, as we witness its irresponsibility and its readiness to condemn everything, erratically and lawlessly and without any reference to fairness or even common sense.

“The day will come, Mr. President, unless the United Nations changes
its
ways and acts more responsibly, when there is going to be a most searching re-examination here in this Congress and throughout this whole country as to whether the United States should remain in it. I will say that to the Senator, and such contortions as this shabby resolution of self-punishment are only speeding the day. I would suggest that he see that the word is carried back to the United Nations, since he loves it so.”

“Wow!” the
Indianapolis
News
said. “Are we ever getting bitter!” “There’s a mood in the country,” the
Chicago Sun-Times
said, “and it’s growing.” “I know, but this kind of talk is so—” the
Indianapolis
News
protested. “It’s growing,” the
Sun-Times
repeated.

“So here we are, Mr. President,” Seab Cooley said. “That is the situation. We have been blackjacked into this shabby resolution that comes over to us from the House, passed by the fantastically slim margin of five votes yesterday, and we are asked to pass it immediately lest somebody up there in the United Nations—some black somebody—be annoyed with us, Mr. President. Lest somebody say naughty words about us, Mr. President. Lest somebody call us bad names.

“Well, Mr. President, I am not so devoid and bereft of respect for my country or myself that I am ready to be pressured into this kind of self-humiliation, Mr. President. No, sir, I am not.

“Let the United Nations try to investigate us, Mr. President. I do not believe even so humble a fellow as my old friend the Secretary of State will let it in. Let the United Nations try to expel us, Mr. President—it had better watch out; we might be more than happy to go.

“I, too, say, like the distinguished Majority Leader—let us be true to ourselves! Let us do what we think is right! Let us reject this peculiar contortionist resolution and tell the United Nations to mind its own business. I beg of you, Senators, let us not wallow in self-humiliation. America deserves better than that from us.”

And to their great surprise he started to sit down, as his junior colleague, H. Harper Graham of South Carolina, and a number of other Southerners began to rise. But the junior Senator from Iowa beat them to it and was granted recognition as Stanley Danta murmured to Bob Munson, “I didn’t see Lafe come in,” and the Majority Leader responded, “Neither did I, but thank God he’s here. I wonder if Hal came with him. I could certainly use them both tonight.” But he did not see the senior Senator from West Virginia. The Senate once more quieted down as Lafe Smith began to speak.

“Mr. President,” he said, “I do not wish to interfere with what appears to be a well-concerted plan, under the experienced direction of the senior Senator from South Carolina, to take us into an extended discussion of this issue today.” He smiled amicably. “I will not detain my eager southern colleagues more than a few minutes in their obvious desire to claim the floor and hold it, no doubt at some length, but I do want to say a word with regard to two subjects that seem of great interest and bearing here, namely the United Nations and world opinion. I have had some dealing with both in these last several weeks, as Senators know, and so perhaps you will be interested in what I have to report of them.

“Mr. President, I will grant anything and everything that anybody wants to say about the present and inherent weaknesses of the United Nations, except one thing: I will not grant that the world can get along without it at this present time in history. Imperfect as it is, erratic as it is, talkative and empty and futile as it is in so many respects, it still represents the only hope,
in actual being,
for the eventual development of a stable world community. At least, on the East River, men are talking together. At least, there, the smallest power can turn upon the greatest and state the truth—and it is not always we who are turned upon, Mr. President, and it is not always we who are criticized. I would say that the majority of the time it is, but not always; and the tides that affect the affairs of men are not eternal. They shift, Mr. President. The forum that condemns us now did not condemn us yesterday, and it may not condemn us tomorrow. The important thing to the world, and I believe to us, is that the forum be preserved, that it be kept in being, that its potential for good be strengthened in every way that is possible. And I say this, Mr. President, as one who went to the United Nations with very great reservations and a very deep skepticism about it.