Master of the Senate (137 page)

It became obvious that more money might be involved than the amounts that had been mentioned. Testifying before the committee, Keck said that he did not consider $2,500 a “substantial” contribution. He said he could not say what other senators had received contributions—substantial or not—because he did not keep records. It became obvious that contributions were mostly in cash. Just as there had been an envelope with twenty-five hundred-dollar bills
intended for Case, the money offered to Wishart had been in hundreds, and in an envelope.

Booth Mooney sat in on every hearing of the George Committee “on Johnson’s orders, and gave him a detailed report at the end of each day’s session,” he was to recall. “He was worried, more deeply than I had ever seen him, that his name or John Connally’s would come up in the course of the investigation.” But somehow, Mooney wrote, “that did not happen,” despite the fact that Connally had worked closely with Patman.

Nor was that the only subject unexplored. Neff had testified that “he had contributed to the ‘personal campaign fund’ of no Senator except Senator Case since last October.” But, as the
New York Times
put it, “He was not asked to explain the qualification ‘personal campaign fund,’ and no attempt was made to determine whether he had made any contributions before last October.” Editorials demanded that the Select Committee broaden its probe; ADA Chairman Rauh accused it of merely “scratching the surface of this scandalous incident.” “Only the most naive would think that this is all the money involved,” the
New York Times
said. Why was Case singled out, “or was the ‘benevolence’ one of many?” Arthur Krock asked. “The questions call for answers.” But Senator George said, “Personally, I see no need for any further inquiry.” The committee’s hearings were adjourned on March 5. Noting that it “was limited in its scope and confined in its authority by the express direction of the Senate” to the Case contribution, its report, issued on April 7, kept within these limited confines. Commenting that it “left much unsaid,” the
Washington Post
stated that its “strangest deficiency … lies in its failure to commend Senator Francis Case for his courageous exposure of what the gas bill lobbyists were up to. At the committee’s hearings it sometimes appeared that Senator Case was the culprit rather than the people who tried to influence his vote by contributing $2,500….” As for the other senators whose names had come up in the hearings, the committee’s report mentioned them only in passing. It assailed Neff, Patman, and Keck, and said it was turning the transcript of the hearings over to the Justice Department to determine if any statutes had been violated. (Neff and Patman were later indicted for failure to register under the Lobbying Act and both men pled guilty, thereby avoiding a trial in which other names might have been mentioned; they were each given a one-year suspended jail sentence and fined a token—a rather whimsical token—$2,500.) And, saying that the Federal Lobbying Act and the Federal Corrupt Practices Act were “too vague and loosely defined,” it contained the usual recommendations that Congress make a “thorough and complete” study of campaign financing laws.

T
HE NEXT EPISODE
in the natural gas fight took place, on February 17, not on Capitol Hill but in the White House. President Eisenhower numbered many titans of the oil industry among his friends. He was as indebted to the industry for past campaign contributions as was Johnson—and, as he prepared for his
re-election campaign, he was as hopeful of future contributions. He was philosophically committed to reducing, not increasing, government regulation of industry in general, and he was particularly committed to reduction in the case of this industry, for he had become persuaded of the validity of the argument that oil and natural gas exploration entailed great risk, and high profits were therefore necessary to encourage exploration. But to Eisenhower all those considerations were invalidated by the circumstances surrounding the passage of the Natural Gas Act. “There is a great stench around the passing of the bill,” he wrote in his diary. It is “the kind of thing that makes American politics a dreary and frustrating experience for anyone who has any regard for moral and ethical standards.” Announcing that he approved the bill’s basic objectives but that because of the “arrogant” lobbying efforts on its behalf, he could not sign it without creating “doubt among the American people concerning the integrity of governmental processes,” he vetoed it. Taking into account his approval of the bill’s objectives, as well as the fact that the Republican Party was counting on millions in contributions from the oil industry for the coming campaign, “the veto was an act of some courage,” Eisenhower’s biographer, Stephen Ambrose, has written.

Lyndon Johnson issued a statement which said, “Since the President himself has regarded this bill as meritorious, his veto is difficult to understand.”

N
ARROW THOUGH
J
OHNSON
had kept the Select Committee investigation, he hadn’t kept it narrow enough to accomplish his purposes. Despite his efforts, enough hints of the vastness of the oil industry’s lobbying efforts had emerged to fuel indignation over the Senate’s failure to police itself, and, in editorials in major newspapers in every section of the country except the Southwest, the indignation was laid at the door of the senator at which it belonged. The
Denver Post
, for example, told its readers that it was “Lyndon Johnson’s slippery leadership of the oil bloc” that “has blunted one of his party’s sharpest campaign weapons. He’s helped turn what had the makings of a crusade against ‘giveaways’ into a Hollywood production interspersed with drawling commercials for Col. Johnson’s banana oil…. The plunderbund was Mr. Johnson’s victory.”

Demands for a full investigation escalated. “The honor and dignity of the Senate require that it expose every aspect of the efforts of the gas lobby to influence the vote through political contributions—both those made recently and those made before the bill was under active consideration,” the
Washington Post
said. Calling Senator George’s inquiry “unsatisfactory,” the
New York Times
said, “There is every reason for a much fuller investigation…. Even seasoned veterans of legislative battles have been astounded at the pressures brought to bear.” And the indignation was summarized, eloquently, by a journalist who was rising to rare respect and influence in the capital.

Ever since Francis Case made his statement, James Reston Sr. wrote on
February 20, “this city has been full of the most disturbing rumors, not only that this kind of money is passed around by wealthy organizations that stand to gain by the enactment of certain legislation but that the leadership of the Senate is in cahoots to conceal the facts. The immediate question is whether the majority and minority leaders are going to use their power and influence to correct the evils they know to exist or whether they are going to try to conceal them and allow the rumors of widespread misconduct to stain the reputation of what they are fond of referring to as ‘the world’s greatest legislative body.’”

Given Johnson’s plans for an imminent entrance onto the national stage, there was little alternative to authorizing a more complete investigation, and one was authorized—with appropriate fanfare. The day after the Reston column appeared, the Majority Leader took the floor. Declaring that he had been “unfairly, unjustly and almost unmercifully” portrayed as blocking a Senate inquiry, he said his whole purpose from the start of the controversy had been to have a full inquiry and not one confined to the Case contribution. “You senators and reporters—you better saddle your horse and put on your spurs if you’re going to keep up with Johnson on the flag, mother and corruption,” he said. Then he introduced a resolution, endorsed by Knowland and quickly passed, to create a new Special Committee that would conduct, he promised, a “far-reaching and thorough” investigation dedicated “to uncovering any wrong-doing of any kind and accomplishing something constructive.” Instead of having the customary Democratic majority, half of its eight members would be Republican, which, he said, would “give no unfair advantage to either party”; it would have a full-size—$350,000—budget; it was assumed that its chairman would be Albert Gore, who, as the
Times
put it, lauding his appointment, “has been insisting on an intensive investigation” which he had intended to carry out through the Elections Subcommittee but which Johnson had now persuaded him could be better conducted by the Special Committee. The resolution was greeted enthusiastically by the press. “The lobbying investigation” promises “to become the year’s liveliest,”
Time
said.

Because of what a complete investigation might reveal, however, there was no alternative to making sure that the Special Committee did not actually conduct one. That insurance was put in place by naming to the committee, as the senior Republican member, the ubiquitous Bridges, who was totally unabashed by the revelation that he had been one of the senators visited in his home state by Elmer Patman and hence might himself be a target of the investigation. Gore had assumed that the chairmanship would carry with it a chairman’s customary prerogatives, such as the right to appoint the committee’s chief counsel and the rest of its staff, and to issue the subpoenas indispensable to any financial investigation. That assumption, however, now proved to be incorrect. At the committee’s organizational meeting, at which Gore had expected the first order of business to be his election as chairman, Bridges said
that since the committee was not a Standing but a Special Committee, the Senate’s normal rules for a committee did not apply, and that new rules would have to be made. “Speaking for the Republicans,” he said, an agreement on the rules would have to come “before we proceed to election of any personnel such as chairman.” Among the rules the Republicans wanted, Styles Bridges said, was the right, should a Democrat become chairman, to name the vice chairman—him, Styles Bridges. And, he said, the vice chairman must have the right to co-sign all subpoenas. Furthermore, if the Democrats selected the chairman, the Republicans must have the right to select the chief counsel—who, he made clear, would be a Republican with whom he was personally comfortable. Since the Democrats did not have a majority in the committee, Gore was helpless. No chairman was elected, no counsel appointed, no subpoenas issued; after one meeting,
Newsweek
reported, Gore, “boiling with rage, ran out of the building and leaped into a cab before newsmen could catch up.” Journalists’ initial enthusiasm faded before reality. “Bipartisanship can play Jekyll-Hyde” and the Senate leadership “has found a way to frustrate the lobby investigation…and still remain on the side of the angels,”
The New Republic
said on March 12. “The new 8-man Senate Committee on Lobbying … is headed by the Tennessee crusader Albert Gore. But there will be no Great Crusade here.” (Bridges told reporters that his conditions were simply “reasonable proposals drawn up to prevent abuses by a “runaway committee.”) The Republicans supported as chairman McClellan, whose Little Rock law firm represented several oil and natural gas companies, and who, as the
Times
put it, has “evinced little sympathy for Senator Gore’s objectives.” (Bridges was elected vice chairman.)

McClellan moved with deliberation. His first task, he said, on March 10, was the selection of a staff, “which might take some time.” That prediction proved accurate. An entire meeting of the committee in mid-April was devoted, the
Washington News
reported, “to discussion of the qualifications of a lady applicant for the job of file clerk.” That pace was maintained in all other aspects of the inquiry, which hardly touched on the specific revelations that had been made. Bridges, of course, was never asked about Elmer Patman’s visit—or about whether the lobbyist had arrived bearing gifts. Hruska and Curtis were never asked whether they had received the $5,000 contributions, Hickenlooper was never asked about the thousand-dollar offer that “seemed like a down payment on a purchase.” John Neff was never asked if any of the fifteen senators listed as “Doubtful” on his list had received funds—or about the significance of the checkmarks by ten of the names. No attempt was made to learn the full extent of the cash distributed by Keck and the Superior Oil Company—or by any other individual or oil company. Key figure though John Connally was in the natural gas lobby, closely though he had worked with Patman, he was never called as a witness. The interest of the press slowly but surely waned, and faded entirely when the national conventions came to dominate the news that summer. The investigation finally petered out in 1957.

•    •    •

L
YNDON
J
OHNSON WAS NOT BLAMED
by the Texas oilmen because the Natural Gas Act of 1956 did not become law. That, of course, was President Eisenhower’s fault; Johnson, they felt, had done his job, and done it well. The man who was in charge of counting the votes for the natural gas lobby, Claude Wild Jr., had expected that after “the big to-do” over the Case contribution, “we would lose some votes,” perhaps even enough votes so that the bill wouldn’t pass. “But it passed,” Wild says. “Only one vote was changed.” And he knew who was responsible for such steadfastness. “I’ve got to give Lyndon Johnson a lot of credit,” he says. “I think that was the finest piece of lobbying work I’ve ever seen.” The money that had been promised to Johnson to finance other senators’ campaigns in 1956 and in subsequent years would be delivered; Connally and Jenkins still brought envelopes stuffed with cash to Washington; Searls continued to carry cash himself. And it was after Wild succeeded Searls in 1959 that “as his first assignment, to meet a commitment Searls had made earlier to Senator Lyndon B. Johnson,” he made the delivery, “over a period of months,” of $50,000 in cash “to Mr. Walter Jenkins.”

And indeed, despite the presidential veto, the oilmen had no reason to be dissatisfied with the attitude of the federal government. Even pro-business
Fortune
magazine found in 1959 that the Federal Power Commission still “shirks its statutory responsibility of regulating the price of gas in the interests of the consumer,” and in that same year the Supreme Court, in a unanimous opinion, assailed the commission for having authorized a new high price for gas producers on “insufficient evidence.” The price of the product which before 1956 had already risen from its 1946 level of four cents per million cubic feet to ten cents, had in the three years since 1956 doubled, to more than twenty-one cents—had risen, in fact, to as much as the market could bear;
Fortune
said that “in some areas, like New England, natural gas is close to pricing itself out of the market.” The industry’s revenues were not the $5.3 billion of 1956 but $10.7 billion. The value of the Kecks’ stock was now $40,108,000. And as for Herman and George Brown, they were finding the business so profitable that when, in 1958, an immense new field, the Rayne Field, containing more than a trillion cubic feet of natural gas, was brought in in Texas, they had Texas Eastern Transmission buy up the entire field. By 1959, the annual profits of Texas Eastern would be $24,527,583, so that the Brown stock was worth $7,113,072. The company which had been formed twelve years earlier for an initial investment of $143,000,000 had assets worth more than a billion dollars.