And the fifteen years that have passed have made no change in our miraculous Nicholas. As I write, Senator LaFollette addresses the convention of the American Federation of Labor, and says: “A century and a half ago our forefathers shed their blood in order that they might establish on this continent a government deriving its just powers from the consent of the governed, in which the will of the people, expressed through their duly elected representatives, should be sovereign.”
And instantly our interlocking president rushes to the rescue. Before the convention of the New Jersey Bar Association he exclaims: “Our forefathers did nothing of the sort. They took good care to do something quite different.” And the Associated Press takes that and sends it all over the United States, and ninety-nine out of a hundred good Americans read it, and say, reverently: “A great university president says so; it must be true.”
CHAPTER VIII
THE SCHOLAR IN POLITICS
What is the function of an American university president? Apparently it is to travel about the country, and summon the captains and the kings of finance, and dine in their splendid banquet halls, and lay down to them the law and the gospel of predation. I consult the name of Nicholas Murray Butler in the New York Public Library, and I find a long list of pamphlets, each one immortalizing a plutocratic feast; the Annual Luncheon of the Associated Press, 1916; the Annual Dinner of the Commercial Club of Kansas City, 1908, the Annual Dinner of the Pittsburgh Chamber of Commerce, 1917, the Annual Dinner of the Association of Cotton Manufacturers, Springfield, Mass., 1917, the Annual Banquet of the Chamber of Commerce of the State of New York, 1911, the Annual Dinner of the American Bankers’ Association—and so on. In addressing these mighty men of money there is no cruelty which our interlocking president will not endorse and defend, no vileness of slander he will not perpetrate against those who struggle for justice in our commercial hell. “Political patent medicine men,” he calls us; and he tells the masters of the clubs and bayonets, the gas-bombs and machine-guns that we seek our ends “by some means—violent if possible, peaceable if necessary”; he tells about Socialists “whose conception of government is a sort of glorified lynching.”
And all this, you understand, not referring to the Bolsheviks; this in the days of the “Bull Moose”! In his speech before the Republican State Convention in 1912 President Butler portrayed the struggle with the Progressives as one “to decide whether our government is to be Republican or Cossack”! He discussed proposals to amend the constitution, saying it was like “proposing amendments to the multiplication table”! In the year 1911 we find him before the 143d Annual Banquet of the New York Chamber of Commerce, stating that “our business men are attacked,” and that this constitutes “civil war.” Our political conventions are being besieged “by every crude, senseless, half-baked scheme in the country”—a terrifying situation, and what is to be done about it? The orator is ready with the answer: “Why should not the associated business men of the United States unite to demand that the next political campaign be conducted with a view to their oversight and protection?”
The associated business men of the United States thought this was fine advice, so through the agency of their Grand Old Party they nominated Nicholas Murray Butler for the office of vice-president of the United States. In that campaign Butler called one of his opponents, Theodore Roosevelt, a demagog, and the other, Woodrow Wilson, a charlatan; and he triumphantly polled the electoral votes of the states of Utah and Vermont, a total of eight out of a possible four hundred and ninety-one.
But did that end the political ambitions of our interlocking president? It did not. He gave an honorary degree to the senator who had helped him carry the state of Utah, and continued diligently to cultivate the rich and powerful. In 1916 we find him in the field again, and this time his ambitions have swelled, he wishes to be President of the United States. In 1920 he wishes it still more ardently; his campaign managers solemnly assure the world that he will take nothing less. The “Literary Digest” conducted a straw vote in the spring of 1920 to find out what the American people wanted; 211,000 of them wanted General Wood, 164,000 wanted Senator Johnson, 20,000 of them wanted poor old Taft, and how many of them do you think wanted Nicholas Miraculous? 2,369! But did that trouble our interlocking president? It did not; because, you see, he knows that the politicians nominate what the interlocking directorate bids them nominate, and the people choose the least bad of the two interlocking candidates—if they can find out which that is.
So President Butler’s campaign continued, and with the help of D. O. Mills, the banker, and Elihu Root, the fox, and Bill Barnes, the infamous, he corralled the sixty-eight delegates of the New York state machine, and a few days before they departed for the Chicago convention we find President Butler giving them a dinner and making them a speech at the Republican Club. They went to Chicago, and in the hotel rooms where the wires were pulled President Butler argued and pleaded and fought, but in vain. One of the most prominent Republicans in the United States described these scenes to me, and told of the pitiful, impotent fury of Butler when finally Harding was nominated. He stormed about the room, denouncing this man and that man. “Look what I did for him, this, that and the other thing—and what he has done for me!” And when the delegation returned from Chicago, Butler received the newspaper reporters and poured out his balked egotism in a statement which startled the country. He denounced the campaign backers of General Wood, “a motley group of stock-gamblers, oil and mining promoters, munition makers, and other like persons.” These men, he said, had “with reckless audacity started out to buy the Presidency.” He went on to picture the New York delegation, the heroic sixty-eight who had stood by President Butler and saved the nation’s honor.
Then, of course, there was the devil let loose! General Wood came out in the next day’s paper, denouncing Butler’s statement as “a vicious and malicious falsehood.” It was necessary, said General Wood, “to brand a faker and denounce a lie.” And also there was Procter, Ivory Soap magnate, and General Wood’s principal backer, denouncing “this self-seeking and cowardly attack.” President Butler was interviewed by the New York “Times,” and was dignified. “I am sorry that General Wood lost his temper. It does not sound well.” He went on to point out that the New York “World” had exposed the corruptionists who were putting up the money for General Wood; and this made lively material for the Democratic campaign—you can imagine!
There was a hurried session of the trustees of the University of the House of Morgan a day or two after that break of President Butler’s. I have been told on the best authority what went on there; but you don’t need to be told, you can imagine it. The interlocking president had denounced “stock-gamblers,” and here on his board was one who had made two million by cornering the market! He had denounced “mining promoters,” and here was a director in three mining companies! He had denounced “munition makers,” and here was the chairman of Remington Arms and Union Metallic Cartridge! The trustees laid down the law, either an apology or a resignation; and so, a couple of days later, the New York newspapers published a statement from President Butler as follows: