Hector Cantu – Page 4 – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

Fortunately for America, the primary issue in 1940 was staying out of war

A 1940 Wendell Willkie anti-FDR cartoon pin, featuring an image of the boy who would become Alfred E. Neuman, sold for $1,625 at a February 2020 auction.

By Jim O’Neal

In September 1940, The New York Times surprised many readers when it announced it would support Wendell Willkie for president. It was a critical time for America as Nazi Germany had swept across the democratic nations of Europe and soon would threaten England’s weak defenses. Once that domino fell, the United States would be exposed to direct attacks via the eastern routes of the northern Atlantic Ocean. It would also dispel the long-standing fallacy that our two great oceans provided insurmountable defenses.

While conceding that both presidential candidates were experienced leaders who recognized the magnitude of the threat and, short of direct intervention, clearly understood the major role America must ultimately be forced to play, Willkie was favored over FDR since his extensive business experience would make him better prepared to provide a more robust defense of America. His production experience would be invaluable to gear up the industrial base that would be required. In this role, Willkie was the professional and Roosevelt clearly the amateur.

There was also an almost unspoken concern about the next president being tough enough to defeat an enemy that had demonstrated a level of ruthlessness and cold-blooded efficiency rarely seen in modern times. Maybe it was the wheelchair that was discreetly hidden or the soft, cozy fireside chats to bolster morale during seven years of hard economic times. But FDR’s smiling, cheerleading style faded in comparison to Willkie’s tough talk about “sweat and toil,” the emphasis on self-sacrifice and the radiant confidence to rebuild our earlier superiority.

The Times had supported FDR in 1932 and 1936, but the fiscal policies of the New Deal had failed disastrously and the national debt had more than doubled in seven years. A continuation would lead the country to the precipice of bankruptcy. Looking back, it is now obvious that these concerns were totally misjudged. FDR turned out to be a wily, tough executive who managed Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin with superior strategic skills with the courage to hammer out agreements without blinking. The United States war machine cranked out planes, tanks and military men at a remarkable rate. The public support was overwhelming as the entire nation joined in. American tobacco dropped a color and advertised “Lucky Strike Green Has Gone to War.” In the process, a new era of fiscal strength evolved and the gloom of the Great Depression faded in the glare of Rosie the Riveter’s sparks. War bond parades blossomed and my family stored bacon fat in coffee cans without really knowing why. I traded comic books for butter coupons and we started eating something called “oleomargarine.”

But in 1940, breaking the precedent of no third term established by George Washington in 1796 was viewed as duplicitous. Earlier, FDR had declared, “Last September, it was my intention to announce clearly and simply at an early date that under no conditions would I accept re-election.” Now, this had morphed into merely: “He had no wish to be a candidate again.” Clearly, it was a bit of political spin that fit the revised situation. In the defeat of FDR and election of Mr. Willkie, there was an opportunity to safeguard a tradition with the wisdom of long experience behind it.

Fortunately for America, the primary issue in the campaign was staying out of war and the isolationist crusade lead by the America First Committee was having a dramatic effect on the nation. Many leading figures across a broad political spectrum vehemently demanded that America stay out. Famous aviator Charles Lindbergh was perhaps the most influential voice heard. FDR was again his usual cunning political self and promised the American people that American boys would not be fighting in any “foreign wars.” That was enough to allow him to win a substantial victory in 1940 and a coveted third term. Naturally, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, that eliminated the FOREIGN war angle commitment and Americans were eager to seek retribution against all enemies.

An interesting epilogue to 1940, when FDR defeated the only presidential candidate with no government experience, was the death of Wendell Willkie in 1944 at age 52. He had poor health as a result of a poor diet, incessant smoking and hard drinking. Had he defeated FDR in 1940, he would have died right after D-Day but before the heavy fighting in the Battle of the Bulge, when victory was not yet assured. However, his VP running mate, Senator Charles McNary of Oregon, had died eight months earlier and for the only time in history, we would have been forced to elevate the secretary of state to president!

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

What would Jefferson think of New York’s population, skyscrapers and deadly plague?

A signed 1786 letter in which Thomas Jefferson writes about Shay’s Rebellion, the national debt and foreign policy sold for $32,500 at an October 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

I made a mistake 30 years ago when I began reading the six-volume biography of Thomas Jefferson by Dumas Malone. The first volume was published in 1948 –– won the Pulitzer in 1975 –– and ended with volume six in 1981 (The Sage of Monticello). Malone wrote in a chronicled-narrative style that was like reader’s catnip. I felt compelled to pick up any volume … start on any page … and not wonder what came before.

Randomly picking up a volume to read was like opening a box of Cracker Jacks and eagerly looking for a prize, in this case, one of Jefferson’s many exploits: first secretary of state … second vice president … third president … second governor of Virginia … principal author of the Declaration of Independence … envoy to France … part–time inventor … doubling the size of the United States for a mere $15 million (Louisiana Purchase) … commissioning the Lewis and Clark Expedition … architect-builder of Monticello … or ending up on sculptor Gutzon Borglum’s Mount Rushmore with George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt.

Now, while becoming addicted to Governor Cuomo’s daily Covid-19 status reports, it has stirred old memories of Thomas Jefferson and I wonder what he would think about New York City with its millions of people, tall skyscrapers, massive hospital networks and the plague that has immobilized this amazing city. Early American cities were walking cities since only the affluent owned horses. As a result, beyond a few square miles, they were generally impractical. With the advent of crude mass transit like the omnibus (a wagon or small bus pulled by horses), cities expanded into larger metro areas.

By 1855, there were 700 omnibus lines in a few cities transporting 120,000 passengers a day on bumpy, hand-carved cobblestone roads. This soon improved with the introduction of steel rails. By the 1880s, there were 525 horse–drawn rail lines in 325 cities. However, in addition to street pollution, horses broke down in alarming numbers, bringing an end to the production of buggy whips.

The first electric trolley debuted in 1888 in Richmond, Va. Horses were quickly replaced by electricity and as early 1902, 97 percent of urban transit had been electrified. More than 2 billion passengers were riding on 22,000 miles of electric rails annually. Steam–powered railroads, first introduced in the 1830s, continued to play an important role in transportation, but sheer size limited their use in cities with small, uneven roads. As the 19th century ended, electric trolleys dominated urban transportation, as steam–powered locomotives focused on regional and transcontinental uses.

Yet America’s largest cities, especially New York, had been trying to incorporate railroads as early as 1850. First was a rail line that followed the contours of the Hudson River and catered primarily to commuters. Then NYC introduced an elevated platform with full-size trains, electrified with a third rail providing the power and traversing above the city streets. Chicago and Boston tried similar versions until the 20th century introduced a new-modern concept for train transit.

New York City pioneered the first subway: full-size trains in massive tunnels that had been dug under city streets. The maiden trip was on Oct. 2, 1904, and eventually expanded to include 468 stations and 656 miles of commercial track. Thus, the world–famous NYC subway system that we know today … and a detour to pose a question asked by historian Carl Becker: “What is still living in the political philosophy of Thomas Jefferson?” and your host’s amateurish reply.

The first blow was the Civil War, which destroyed the political primacy of the South … slavery and the doctrine that the states were sovereign agents bound together in a federal compact. Then the 1890 census revealed that the frontier phase of America’s history, made possible by Jefferson, was gone. The 1920 census reported the majority of American citizens lived in urban rather than rural areas. These demographic changes transformed Jefferson’s agrarian vision into a nostalgic memory.

Then the 1930s New Deal capped the urbanization, industrialization and increased density of the population. Roosevelt’s appropriation of Jefferson as a New Deal Democrat has been called “one of the most inspired acts of political thievery in American history.” In fact, the New Deal signaled the death knell for Jefferson’s cherished concept of a minimalist, centralized federal government. Undoubtedly, the massive military buildup to fight the Cold War was precisely the kind of “standing army” that Jefferson truly abhorred.

Lastly, of course, was the modern Supreme Court decision in 1954 in Brown v. Board of Education (Topeka, Kan.). This was followed by all the other decisions regarding an equal, multiracial society. The intrusion into regular order made Jefferson’s belief in legal and physical separation of blacks and whites a literal anachronism. However, I suspect Mr. Jefferson, ever the pragmatic statesman, would observe that we should liberate ourselves from the dead hands of ancestors’ or predecessors’ ancient views and seek our own.

Personally, I prefer Ronald Reagan’s uplifting words that we “pluck a flower from Thomas Jefferson’s life and wear it on our soul forever.”

Were early presidents too jaded to solve divisive issue of slavery?

An Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas pocket mirror issued to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Lincoln-Douglas debates went to auction in 2015.

By Jim O’Neal

The U.S. Constitution is generally considered the most revered document in world history. John Adams described it as “the greatest single effort of national declaration that the world had ever seen.” It was a seminal event in the history of human liberty. While containing remarkable concepts — “All men are created equal” … “Endowed with certain unalienable rights” … “Consent of the governed” (instead of the will of the majority) — the founders proved to be incapable of reconciling the practice of slavery with these lofty ambitions.

In order to gain consensus, they deftly employed what has become known colloquially as “Kick the can.” International slave–trading was banned in the United States, but Congress was denied the right to eliminate slavery per se for 20 years (1808). The assumption (hope) was that slavery would just naturally phase out without the need for formal legislation. Then there was the obvious contradiction between men being born equal while slavery was allowed to continue. The explanation was a tortured rationale that “equal” was meant to mean “under the law” and not racial equality.

We now know that rather than phasing out, slavery flourished as Southern agrarian economies became even more dependent on slave labor and geographical expansion added to the importance of the issue. So the dispute took on new dimensions as each new state entered the Union. Was it to be free or slave? The answer was up to a divided Congress to decide. In an effort to maintain harmony, Congress was forced to negotiate a series of compromises, first in 1820 and again in 1850 and 1854. Rather than continue to battle in Congress, Southern slave states turned to secession from the Union when it was clear that they weren’t strong enough to rely on nullification alone.

What the Northern states needed desperately was a president with the will-power to keep the Union intact … with or without slavery.

His name was Abraham Lincoln, a little–known lawyer from Illinois. Today, most Americans know the major details of the life of the man who would become the 16th president of the United States. His humble upbringing in a pioneer family, his rise from lawyer to state legislator and presidential candidate, his wit and intelligence, his growth as a statesman to become the virtual conscience of the nation during the bloodiest rift in its history. Far fewer are familiar with the decisions and qualities which combined to create the most extraordinary figure in our political history.

In 1858, he challenged Illinois Senator Stephen Douglas in his bid for re-election. Although Lincoln lost, he developed a national prominence when they engaged in a series of high–profile debates, primarily over slavery. Lincoln was eloquent in his attacks from a moral-ethical standpoint, while Douglas was firm in his belief in states’ rights to decide important issues. Then came the presidential election of 1860, with the country poised for war, and the outcome would be the determining factor. It was during the hotly contested campaign that the Democratic nominee Douglas would perform an epic act of “Nation over Party.”

Two years later, Douglas sensed that Lincoln would win the presidency as Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana swung to the Republicans. Douglas famously declared “Mr. Lincoln is the next president. We must try to save the Union. I will go South!” Despite a valiant effort consisting of speeches to dissuade the South, it was too late. During the 16 weeks between Lincoln’s election in 1860 and the March 4, 1861, inauguration, seven states had seceded from the Union and formed the Confederate States of America.

On June 3, 1861, the first skirmish of the war on land occurred in (West) Virginia. It was called the Battle of Philippi and it was a Union victory. A minor affair that lasted 20 minutes with a few fatalities, the Union nevertheless celebrated it with fanfare. Ironically, Senator Douglas died on the same day at age 48. Three weeks later, the Civil War exploded at the Battle of Bull Run and would continue for four long bloody years.

One has to wonder if this could have been avoided if our remarkable founders had been more prescient about the slavery issue and ended it with the adoption of the Bill of Rights. Or were those early Virginia presidents — Washington, Jefferson, Madison and Monroe — too jaded or selfish to make the personal sacrifice?

Here’s why Dwight D. Eisenhower admired Germany’s autobahn

A baseball signed by President Dwight D. Eisenhower circa 1960 sold for $9,588 at a December 2017 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Tempus fugit!

When I think about President Dwight D. Eisenhower, my mind associates him with America in the 1950s. Images of sunny Southern California suburbs, rock music, languid days of surfing, backyard BBQs and my first car (1953), a 1932 Ford Victoria 4 banger. Long gone are any memories of ducking under a desk, the potential darkness of a nuclear war or concerns that communists were lurking in hidden corners.

It was a time of social confidence and military men taking advantage of the G.I. Bill by returning to college or starting families in the tract homes that were proliferating. Good factory jobs were plentiful, with auto-assembly plants gradually replacing shuttered aircraft shells. My posse knew the year and model of every Ford, Chevrolet, Buick or Oldsmobile that went whizzing by. Soon, I was a senior working in a General Motors plant assembling Buicks, Pontiacs and Oldsmobiles from 3 to 11 in South Gate. Shoddy quality, but the emphasis was on quantity and the pay was staggering: $2.55 an hour with daily overtime + Saturday. My cup runneth over.

In reality, Dwight David Eisenhower was a 19^th-century man. Born in 1890 in Dennison, Texas, he moved a year later to Abilene, Kan., and a small, two-story frame house. He recalled the 1896 election when William McKinley defeated William Jennings Bryan, the golden-throated “Boy Orator of the Prairie.” This was the first of Bryan’s three defeats; he joined Henry Clay as the only losing candidates who received electoral votes in three separate presidential elections.

A good athlete, “Little Ike” yearned to attend the University of Michigan – the home of Coach Fielding Yost and his “point a minute” Wolverine football teams. He was encouraged to take the service academy exam and he failed to qualify for the vaunted Naval Academy. However, he squeaked into West Point and then married Mamie Geneva Doud in 1916. Although eager to join the war in Europe, he ended up in San Antonio training in the 57th Army Infantry, followed by a stint in Gettysburg, Pa., with a crack tank crew. A military legend was gradually taking shape.

When the U.S. Army returned from Europe at the end of WWI, they sponsored the 1919 Transcontinental Motor Convoy. Ike joined 300 other soldiers to drive a group of 81 motorized vehicles from Gettysburg to San Francisco. The convoy wound along the Lincoln Highway for 3,251 miles. Because of the rudimentary, haphazard web of paved roads, it took an almost unbelievable 62 days. Lieutenant Eisenhower would long remember the impassable roads and tortoise-like pace, never realizing he would later have an opportunity to rectify the issue.

For perspective, at the end of the 19th century, there had only been one motorized vehicle for every 18,000 people (today, we have about 300 million cars and trucks, or almost one per person). Also, the “roads” in 1900 were not asphalt or concrete; instead, they were too often packed dirt or mud, depending on the time of year. Even worse, outside cities and towns, there were few gas stations; rest stops would be a convenience in the future. In 1910, The Boston Eagle newspaper observed that automobiling was not an easy way to get anywhere … “it is an adventure … the last call of the wild.”

With Henry Ford’s help, that was about to change … dramatically. When Ford introduced the 1908 Model T, Americans finally had a dependable, affordable car. Over the next 20 years, 15 million “Tin Lizzies” rolled off the Ford assembly lines. Along with all the other car manufacturers, automobiles evolved from a luxury to a necessity. With this transition to a “nation of drivers” came the inevitable questions of who would pay for indirect costs involved. The powerful automobile industry ultimately prevailed, with governments at all levels agreeing to pay for streets, signage, highways, bridges and all the other things we now take for granted. Taxing gas was an easy target, but there were major infrastructure projects that are still difficult to fund.

Fortunately, during WWII, Eisenhower was the Supreme Commander of U.S. troops in Europe. He witnessed firsthand the genius of the German autobahn, a highly sophisticated and strategic network of highways. The Germans had used it to launch its Blitzkrieg attacks; waves of lightning fast, motorized armored infantry that quickly subdued most of Europe in a matter of days or weeks. When he became president in 1953, Ike remembered the fiasco of the transcontinental convoy and the devastation unleashed courtesy of the autobahn.

Voila! In 1954, he announced a plan to build a transcontinental interstate highway system for the United States. Naturally, this was not a new idea; Congress had passed the Federal-Aid Highway Act in 1944, which authorized the construction of a 40,000-mile National System of Interstate Highways. The only thing lacking was the funding to pay for it. What President Eisenhower did was cleverly bundle the “critical need for speed” in case of atomic attack on our key cities (a national defense imperative) with a terrific rationale for a highway system that would benefit common citizens. Fresh produce from Florida to New England overnight or year-round fresh fruit and vegetables from California to anywhere.

On June 29, 1956, President Eisenhower signed the bill creating a National System of Interstate and Defense Highways with a major economic stimulus via construction jobs followed by booms in numerous industries: trucking, petroleum, automotive, motels, restaurants. The list was endless. The nation’s interstate program stands as the largest public work project in world history. This time, there was funding and vastly improved state and local highways. The complaints would come later as planners used eminent domain to seize lands for roads. Thousands of farms were bifurcated by four-lane highways and scores of cities leveled or divided, with poor and minority communities destroyed.

Just another chapter in our history, but without the EPA or federal court injunctions.

Another milestone in American history just a few months away

This 1840 Silk Campaign Flag for William Henry Harrison realized $87,500 at a June 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Every four years, Americans get an opportunity to choose who will be president of the United States. To vote, people must be citizens, 18 years old and registered to vote. The actual direct voting is by delegates to an Electoral College, generally representing the Republican or Democratic political parties. Since 1789, 44 different men have occupied the Oval Office and Donald Trump is the 45th. Grover Cleveland accounts for the difference since he was elected twice, once in 1884 (#22) and again in 1892 (#24); he is the only president to serve two non-consecutive terms.

Of these 44 presidents, there is only one African-American and no women. One … John Quincy Adams … was selected by the House of Representatives in 1824 when none of the candidates received a majority of votes. In this century, George W. Bush and Donald Trump lost the popular vote, but had more votes in the Electoral College. Al Gore and Hillary Clinton placed second. Four of the presidents died in office and four were assassinated.

The first to die was William Henry Harrison in 1841 after serving only 31 days. John Tyler became the first vice president to assume the presidency without an election. To preclude any Constitutional uncertainty, Tyler immediately took the oath of office, moved into the White House and assumed full presidential powers. His political opponents argued (unsuccessfully) that he should be “acting president” until a new election was held. One president (Richard Nixon) resigned to avoid a trial in the Senate after the House of Representatives voted to impeach on three articles; he was virtually assured of conviction.

Each time, the nation withstood the shock of an unanticipated change and a safe transition was managed, almost routinely.

It is quite instructive to broadly categorize the men who have served in this office by analyzing their relationship with the people and the development of the nation. There are interesting correlations with the evolving role and power of the chief executive as the Union became more geographically diverse and ever-expanding. At times, it is arbitrary as the changes were often contentious, but society has flourished despite political discord. A few examples are all that space allows, but the story keeps getting more complex.

First consider the first five, from George Washington to James Monroe … both two-term presidents from Virginia (as were Thomas Jefferson and James Madison). Washington was elected unanimously twice, something Monroe nearly matched until one vote was cast to preserve GW’s record. Monroe served in the “Era of Good Feelings,” a time of harmony never to be replicated. These five presidents are easily labelled as “formative” in every sense of the word. There were few precedents to follow and the Constitution was uselessly vague on specifics.

Washington (1789-97) chose to meet primarily with the upper elite of society (eschewing the common man) and even assiduously avoiding shaking hands. He rode in a yellow chariot decorated with gilded cupids and his Coat of Arms. His executive mansion was staffed with 14 white servants and seven slaves. A different man might have easily assumed the role as king, irrespective of the war for independence. After all, that action was against King George III, the greedy British Parliament and taxation without representation. Further, he had been elected by a small group of mature (older) white men – and exclusively landowners, who numbered 6 percent of the total population.

Washington was acutely aware of the precedents he was setting and their historical importance. In 1789, he appeared before the Senate and presented an Indian treaty for approval. When the Senate decided to study it before approval, Washington huffed out after vowing to never appear before Congress again. It was a vow he kept. Similarly, when he refused to comply with a Congressional demand for his papers on the controversial Jay Treaty, he reminded Congress that the Constitution did not require their approval! Thus were the roots of executive privilege established.

When Washington declined a third term in 1796, George III famously declared, “If he does that, he will be the greatest man in the world.” He did and it was a precedent that spanned 144 years until Franklin Delano Roosevelt declared for the presidency a third time in 1940 (and won). From 1932 – with the Great Depression, the New Deal and the Second World War on the horizon – FDR had subsumed the federal government. To the common man, he epitomized the American landscape totally.

Other vivid examples include Jacksonian Democracy for the common man … the War with Mexico and the Western expansion of Manifest Destiny … Lincoln, his generals and the Civil War … Reconstruction without Lincoln’s wisdom … the Great War machine in the 20th century and the Cold War.

In a few months, we may have a chance to witness an inflection point in American history as another generation goes to the ballot box and votes. This time, voters will include women, blacks, Latinos, American Indians and Asians.

I plan to enjoy it.

‘Peace, commerce, honest friendship with all nations … entangling alliances with none!’

This haunting World War I recruitment poster (Boston Public Safety Committee, 1915), featuring art by Fred Spear, sold for $14,400 at a November 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

World War I officially erupted in Europe on July 28, 1914. The following month, British commentator and author H.G. Wells wrote a series of articles that blamed the Central Powers (Austria-Hungary, Germany, Bulgaria and the Ottoman Empire) for starting the war. Wells also argued that eliminating militarism in Germany was essential to avoiding future wars. Subsequently, the articles appeared in a small book titled The War That Will End War. The book’s title was far too optimistic, but Mr. Well’s thesis about Germany’s military would prove to be eerily prophetic.

As the war inexorably spread throughout Europe, conventional wisdom dictated that the United States would never become directly involved due to long-standing political policies dating to its founding. George Washington’s famous Farewell Address in 1789 had warned us to “steer clear of permanent alliances” and Thomas Jefferson echoed these sentiments: “Peace, commerce and honest friendship with all nations … entangling alliances with none!”

The Germans were confident America would remain on the sidelines. Their surprisingly broad network of spies in the United States kept reassuring them of the strong sentiment to avoid foreign wars and misinterpreted pacificism as a sign of weakness. It had only been 49 years since the end of hostilities in the Civil War and the ashes were still warm. Furthur, the American army was small (ranking 17th in the world), had not been involved in any major operations, and lacked the modern equipment of the 20th century.

President Woodrow Wilson had been re-elected in 1916 under the slogan “He Kept Us Out of War” and the promise of four more years of peace was comforting. It further emboldened the Germans and they became even more provocative by implementing an “unrestricted” policy for their fleet of U-boat submarines in the Atlantic. They pledged to attack any ship irrespective of cargo or innocent civilians to buy enough time to conquer Great Britain. However, the sinking of the Lusitania proved to be one step too far.

On April 2, 1917 at precisely 8:30 p.m., President Wilson assembled both Houses of Congress, the Supreme Court and his Cabinet. In a 36-minute speech, he outlined the vicious attacks by Germany on our ships and the innocent lives lost. Finally, he concluded by formally requesting Congress to declare war on Germany (only). The final words were lost or unheard amid the boisterous cheering and flag-waving. Later, back at the White House, he expressed his feelings of wonderment and commented to his aides: “Just stop and think about what they were applauding…” Finally alone, he wept almost silently.

On April 6, Congress declared war on Germany and by June 25, the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) arrived in France, led by General John J. “Black Jack” Pershing. On July 4, Independence Day, elements of Pershing’s force paraded in Paris. Pershing holds the distinction of being the first living general to be promoted to general of the Armies and allowed to select his own insignia. He chose four gold stars to distinguish his rank from generals who wore four silver stars. There is no record of any familial relationship to either of the Pattons.

Throughout the months that followed, fresh units continued to be added and World War I would end on the memorable point of time of 11 a.m. on the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918. President Wilson was awarded the 1919 Nobel Peace Prize, but was unable to convince the U.S. Congress to join the League of Nations. Absent the United States, there was not much hope in helping Europe avoid another war. It was time to bring the boys home. Among them was a young lieutenant who would rise to prominence as the supreme commander of U.S. forces when we returned 20-plus years for the second round of fighting.

In comparison to the choices of today, I REALLY like Ike!

Madison is certainly the father of the Constitution

This 1809 James Madison commemorative Indian Peace Medal realized $24,000 at an August 2019 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

It is mildly amusing to listen to members of Congress refer to the Founding Fathers whenever they’re trying to validate a political point or opinion (“That’s exactly what the framers intended when they wrote the Constitution!”). They seem to believe that our Founders held a Constitutional Convention (partially true), quickly hammered out a list of sacred provisions and then had each state ratify them en masse. Naturally, the real story is much more complicated and Constitutional scholars of today still debate various aspects of what is meant. Even the Supreme Court struggles to gain a consensus on “original intent.”

After the 13 American colonies tired of monarchical rule under King George III and Parliament, they decided to form an independent country. A committee was formed to start the ball rolling with a Declaration of Independence. Thomas Jefferson was formally elected to write the document and years later (1822), John Adams wrote a letter to Timothy Pickering explaining how Jefferson was selected: “First, he had a reputation for literature, science and a talent of composition. Though silent in Congress, he was prompt, frank, explicit and decisive upon committee and in conversation. He seized my heart and I gave him my vote. When he asked my reasons, I said – You are a Virginian and I am obnoxious and unpopular. Lastly, you can write 10 times better than I can!”

Following the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783), the 13 original states ratified Articles of Confederation that served as the first Constitution. The primary principle of these articles was to preserve the sovereignty and independence of each individual state. A weak central government was formed, but great care was taken to ensure that it did not have any more power than previously assumed by the British King and Parliament. This issue of maintaining states’ rights would continue to perplex any efforts to federalize.

The states continued struggling under several different forms of Articles, Confederations and Conventions … all with loosely defined laws and regulations. Important issues like foreign policy, taxation, currency and basic commerce were hindered by competing state interests. Even the U.S. Army was under the direction of a Congress that was not well organized. These and other issues greatly worried the Founders, who believed the Union, as it existed in 1786, was in serious danger of breaking apart.

So it is true that we look to the Founding Fathers when we examine the great American experiment in democracy. But, the question remains: To whom did they turn for wisdom and guidance? Many found inspiration from Great Britain in the previous century, when the conflict between the King and Parliament escalated into a civil war. The generally Puritan Parliament simply moved to abolish the monarchy, executed Charles I in 1649 for treason and bravely established England’s first and only Republic. Oliver Cromwell became Lord Protector of England, Scotland and Wales. However, his death in 1658 created a power vacuum that was filled by Charles’ eldest son. So not much was really accomplished and they reverted back to a King + Parliament that ruled with deficiencies that continue to exist today.

Besides, it was now crystal clear that major changes were needed in America and, finally, a Constitutional Convention was scheduled for May-September 1787 in Philadelphia. It was described as an effort to revise the league of states and many state delegates arrived assuming the purpose was to debate and draft improvements. However, powerful voices were determined to forge a powerful new national government. Among this group were James Madison and Alexander Hamilton, who intended to create a new government rather than tinker with fixing the existing one.

After a long hot summer of debate, 39 of the original 55 delegates signed the new Constitution. It was released to the public to debate and gain state ratification. They immediately hit a snag over the absence of a Bill of Rights. There had been discussions among the delegates over the need for such a bill, but it was rejected by the Convention. The lack of a Bill of Rights became a rallying cry for the anti-federalists until advocates for the Constitution (led by James Madison) agreed to add one in the first session of Congress. Ratified on Dec. 15, 1791, the first 10 amendments – called the Bill of Rights – include sweeping restrictions on the federal government to protect rights and limit powers. Delaware was the first state to ratify the Constitution and the last was Rhode Island.

I am solidly in the camp of those who regard James Madison as Father of the U.S. Constitution. One does not need to look any further. No other delegate was better prepared for the Federal Convention of 1787 and no one contributed more in shaping the ideas of the document and explaining its meaning. He was a proponent for a consolidated, central republic to replace the loose and dysfunctional alliance under the Articles of Confederation. The Virginia Plan he brought to Philadelphia became the basis for the Convention agenda. His wish to clearly establish the sovereignty of the national government over the states has proven to be very durable. In 230 years, over 10,000 attempts have been made to amend it and as of now, only 27 have succeeded.

I rest my case.

Astonishing technologies will continue upending our world

Thomas Hart Benton’s ink, pencil and watercolor on paper titled “Poking Stick in Cotton Gin,” circa 1930, sold for $12,500 at a May 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

A Luddite is an obscure term loosely used to describe people who dislike new technology. After a superficial self-assessment, I’ve concluded I’m probably a modern-day Luddite at heart. The evidence is abundant since I’ve scrupulously avoided Facebook, have zero interest in posting pictures or video on Instagram and consider Twitter an enormous thief of time. Social media is not a place I’m interested in wasting my remaining time on.

That said, I don’t know how to account for my iPhone 11, iPad Pro or the 75-inch Sony 4K LED that dominates our den (or the six other cable boxes on three floors). With my iPad, I rarely use my desktop computer except to print documents. I abhor texting and still have a Netflix account that sends me DVDs by snail mail. After spending the past 60 years questing for ever-larger TV screens, the idea of squinting at a cellphone or watch-size TV program is mildly abhorrent. Even more annoying is the spate of robo-calls offering new Medicare options. I routinely turn off my devices for hours (ah … peace).

The original Luddites were British weavers and textile workers who objected to the increased use of mechanized looms and knitting frames. It is popularly claimed that they named themselves after Ned Ludd, a young apprentice who was rumored to have personally wrecked a textile apparatus (“in a fit of rage”) in 1779. There is no evidence Ludd actually existed, but he eventually became the mythical leader of the movement. They even issued manifestos and threatening letters under his name.

The first major instance of malicious machine breaking took place in 1811 in Nottingham. The British government moved to quash the uprisings by making machine breaking punishable by death. The unrest finally reached its peak in April 1812 when a few Luddites were gunned down during an attack on a mill near Huddersfield. Finally, the army deployed several thousand troops and dozens of Luddites were either hanged or transported to Australia.

In the intervening years, astonishing new technologies have increased productivity, lowered costs and created hundreds of millions of new jobs. A few of the more obvious include:

The cotton en(gin)e that turned a marginally profitable farm crop into a bonanza by minimizing labor by over 90 percent while increasing workers from 700,000 to 3.2 million. Historians point out the South gained a 75 percent share of world demand, but also doomed them to remain an agricultural economy (with slaves). Others contend this single invention led directly to the Civil War.
Cyrus McCormick’s mechanical reaper helped convert millions of acres to food production and developed Midwest family farms with “wheat fields shining from sea to sea.” Presumably, American Indians, buffalo, dense forests and pristine rivers and lakes were unimpressed.
The Wright Brothers gave man the gifts of flight, aircraft factory jobs, cargo shipments and holiday travel for the masses. It also enabled two world wars and the ability to destroy entire cities.
Commercialization of the Bessemer process to supply the enormous steel demand for railroad tracks that crisscrossed the nation and enabled high-rise buildings with Otis elevators and office workers too numerous to count.
Henry Ford’s assembly line made automobiles affordable … in turn, creating more workers to stay up with demand and higher wages to buy the product. This was followed by oil-gas, tires, paved roads, motels and Uber/Lyft). Also smog, toll roads and clogged freeways in every city.
The Internet is obsoleting retail stores and shopping malls, while enabling Apple, Google, Amazon and global outsourcing that has raised 500 million people out poverty.

We are now challenged to reconcile population growth with climate change and plastic oceans; and robots and artificial intelligence with displaced workers and a K-12 Education System that is failing so many currently. Joseph Schumpeter’s 1942 theory of Creative Destruction is still valid.

The London Mensa Organization just accepted a 3 year old with an IQ of 142+. There will also be more Elon Musks and they will figure it out. One suggestion is to simply operationalize what’s known as “5G-based” nuclear power plants, which are 100 percent green (it will shut itself down if needed) and run on spent fuel stockpiles. Imagine unlimited clean power that will desalinate sea water and gobble up current waste. Bill Gates is an investor in the technology.

Just a casual idea as we watch the Washington Circus and the people we rely on for leadership.

Here’s why Commodore Perry is known as ‘Father of the Steam Navy’

This silver Matthew Calbraith Perry “Treaty with Japan” medal, commissioned by a group of Boston merchants and struck at the U.S. Mint in Philadelphia in 1856, sold for $26,290 at a May 2011 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Generally, James Watt (1736-1819) is credited with the invention of the steam engine. Perhaps this is due to the proximity of this brilliant Scottish engineer and chemist to Great Britain’s Industrial Revolution. His work certainly played a major role in the country’s transition to the world’s leading commercial nation in the early 19th century. However, Watt actually only improved existing steam engines by reducing waste and redesigning the basic technology of heating and cooling liquids.

The result was a dramatic improvement in cost-effectiveness that lowered production costs. England could deliver virtually anywhere cheaper than local production. In a relatively short time, England’s global trading empire stretched from Europe to the North American colonies, through the Caribbean and to the Indian subcontinent. In the process, the nation transformed from an agricultural economy into an industrial juggernaut. The old saying that “the sun never sets on the British Empire” has been used by historians to dramatize the vastness of land under British control. At its apex, it covered 25 percent of Earth’s landmass and daylight was present somewhere at all times.

Then the vaunted British Empire began a long, slow descent into what has become a tired monarchy, with a sclerotic Parliament stuck in the mire of Democratic-Socialism. The embarrassing Brexit erased the vestiges of the Thacker era and raised the specter of disunion in Scotland and a divided Ireland. Recent events have inevitably raised questions about the durability of the royal family. I’m betting Queen Elizabeth II will remain unfazed and continue her remarkable 68-year reign, despite her children’s many escapades.

The actual story of “steam power” stretches back to Hero of Alexandria (circa 10-70 AD), a Greek scientist credited with developing the aeolipile – a rocket-like device that produced a rotary motion from escaping steam. For the next 1,800 years, the world’s inventors, mathematicians and scientists were busy making incremental improvements.

A prominent example is Matthew C. Perry (1794-1858), the first authentic Commodore of the U.S. Navy. He was appointed commandant of the New York Navy Yard in June 1840 by Navy Secretary James Paulding (primarily a writer of note). Perry was an experienced seaman and recognized the critical need for improving the education of Naval personnel. He helped design an apprenticeship system to train new sailors that eventually led to the establishment of the United States Naval Academy in 1845. Near Annapolis, Md., they train 800 to 1,000 plebes (Roman slang) annually to be midshipmen who represent the best traditions of America’s elite military.

Commodore Perry also earned the moniker “Father of the Steam Navy” after organizing the nascent corps of Naval engineers and founding the U.S. Naval gunnery on the New Jersey seashore. He took command of the U.S.S. Fulton (the nation’s second steam frigate). Perry supervised the construction and his extensive naval experience provided an ideal platform to advocate for extensive modernization.

In 1852, President Millard Fillmore assigned Commodore Perry to carry out a strategic mission: Force the Japanese Empire to open all their ports that had been closed to foreigners for 250 years … using gunboat diplomacy if necessary. On July 8, 1853, the Perry Expedition sailed into Edo Bay (Tokyo) and opened trade negotiations. However, it took a second trip in February 1854, this time with 10 vessels and 1,600 men. Perry proceeded to land 500 men in 27 boat ships while bands played the Star-Spangled Banner.

Silently following along was the “Law of Unintended Consequences.” The Japanese quickly realized that Perry’s warships, armaments and technology so out-powered them that it would be prudent to throw open their markets to foreign technology. The feudal lord Shimazu Nariakira summarized it nicely by observing: “If we take the initiative, we can dominate; if we do not, we will be dominated!” They did take the initiative and over the next century defeated Taiwan, Russia and China … taking control of the entire Korean Peninsula from 1910 forward.

Ironically, 100 years later, on Sept. 2, 1945, our war with Japan formally ended. But, days earlier, the battleship USS Missouri glided into Tokyo Bay and anchored within cannon-shot range of Commodore Perry’s moorage of 1853. The Missouri’s deck was arranged with surrender documents, and displayed above was the 31-star flag that Perry had flown on the USS Mississippi, built under the personal supervision of the commodore. It has been on display in the Naval Museum. The Missouri flagstaff luffed the 48-star flag that had flown on the Capitol dome in Washington, D.C., on Dec. 7, 1941. America and Japan were finally at peace.

Now we are ensconced in the Middle East with no visible exit and the Navy is busy contending with China over Asian Oceans of questionable value. But we did sleep in a Holiday Inn after mooring a nuclear submarine.

Jackson arrived in D.C. and proceeded to upset the apple cart

A rare Andrew Jackson “pewter rim,” most likely dating to the War of 1812 and celebrating its heroes, sold for $20,000 at a June 2015 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Andrew Jackson, the seventh president of the United States, was ready to go home. After serving eight years, he rejoiced that his vice president would succeed him. Occasionally, Jackson had considered resigning to ensure a smooth transition and, more importantly, a continuation of Jacksonianism. VP Martin Van Buren had consistently opposed this and finally “Old Hickory” dropped the idea. The president’s health was failing and many descriptions painted a picture of an old man (he was 70 years old and frail).

Eight years earlier, the president-elect had slipped into Washington, D.C. A welcoming salute had been cancelled since counting the electoral votes was still before Congress. Four years before (1825), Jackson had been denied the presidency despite winning a plurality of popular and electoral votes. Absent a majority of electoral votes, the election had been decided by the House of Representatives in accordance with the 12th Amendment. They chose John Quincy Adams.

Now, while waiting for the final count, Jackson was in deep mourning over the death of Mrs. Jackson a few days before Christmas. The cause was deep depression followed by a heart attack. A bitter controversy had erupted during the campaign when political enemies charged their marriage was bigamous. Rachel Donelson Jackson was mortified to learn a divorce was in question from a prior marriage. Winning the presidency had magnified the embarrassment and she cried out to friends, “I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of God than live in that palace in Washington.”

So began a new era in American politics as a strident, partisan president took office still seeking revenge. The new president was obsessed with attacking all special interest groups and their corrupt influence on Congress. Under his leadership, Democrats became the party of the common man. The mantle of populism rested easily on his shoulders and Washington politics would be transformed for an entire generation. The two-party system was now dominant as Democrats and Whigs shared power until the 1860 election.

The turbulence of AJ’s life carried over into the presidency as he defined his policies, not by enacting legislation, but by defiantly thwarting it! He vetoed more bills than the combined total of all six of his predecessors. He was a man in a hurry and Cabinet members either followed his orders or they were quickly dispatched. As an example, the national debt was $58 million when he assumed office in 1829 and by Jan. 1, 1835, it had totally been eliminated (for the first and ONLY time to this day).

Nothing was sacred from his reform crusade and that especially included the Bank of the United States (BUS). The original BUS was created by Alexander Hamilton in 1791 to get the new government operating despite heavy debts from the War of Independence. The bank had been chartered for 20 years with the expectation the charter would be renewed. A successor BUS was founded in 1816, again with another 20-year quasi-monopoly. Jackson believed the bank was unconstitutional (as had Jefferson). Jackson surprised everyone by attacking the bank in his very first message to Congress.

He then promptly vetoed the bill to renew the charter in 1836 by saying, “It is to be regretted that the rich and powerful too often bend the acts of government to their selfish purposes.”

However, since the bank charter wouldn’t expire until 1836, Jackson decided not to wait. He ordered his Treasury Secretary, William Duane, to withdraw all government funds from the bank and deposit them with state charted banks. Congress had just legislated against this and Secretary Duane refused Jackson’s edict. The president simply fired him and transferred Attorney General Roger Taney into the Treasury job. The Senate, now controlled by Whigs, was furious and refused to approve Taney’s nomination. But they were too slow and the damage was already complete.

Totally frustrated, in March 1834 the Senate adopted a resolution of censure of Jackson, charging him with “assuming authority and power not conferred by the Constitution and laws, but in derogation of both.” It was viewed as an impeachment, but without the Constitutional process.

The Whigs responded, “The resolution, then, was in substance an impeachment of the president, and in passage amounts to a declaration by the majority of the Senate that he is guilty of an impeachable offence. As such, it is spread upon the journals of the Senate, published to the nation and to the world, made part of our enduring archives, and incorporated in the history of the age.”

That enduring “history of the age” lasted less than three years. In January 1837, Democrats, back in control of the Senate, voted to expunge the censure resolution, writing boldly across the original record, “EXPUNGED BY ORDER OF THE SENATE THIS 16TH DAY OF JANUARY, IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD, 1837.”

Amen.