LBJ vs. RFK: a case of mutual contempt - excerpt from book, 'Mutual Contempt: Lyndon Johnson, Robert Kennedy, and the Feud that Defined a Decade,' by Jeff Shesol

Washington Monthly, Oct, 1997 by Jeff Shesol

The story unfolds like a Greek tragedy played out on a nation's center stage. The protagonists are flawed, very human men, and their conflict illuminates not only their characters but their era. As historical figures, Lyndon Johnson and Robert Kennedy are forever entangled: One cannot fully comprehend either man without considering his relationship with the other. Their antagonism was, from the beginning, very personal, but it was also a complicated blend of politics, ideas, ambitions, and anxieties. Kennedy's challenge to johnson says much about his own evolution as a public figure. LBJ's nervous response to the "Bobby problem" speaks volumes about the Johnson presidency. This became the defining relationship of their political lives.

Nor can one fully comprehend the 1960s without considering the Johnson-Kennedy feud. The issues that wrenched these two men apart -- Vietnam, race, poverty -- were at the heart of many personal political cleavages in those years of division. But Johnson and Kennedy were not, like student demonstrators or civil rights workers, peripheral anonymous figures. After John Kennedy's assassination, they were the political titans of the decade. They not only responded to issues but also shaped them. From the war in Vietnam to the war on poverty, from the "problem of the cities" to the collapse of the Democratic coalition, the major events of the 60s bear the imprint of this personal rivalry.

Politics, too, bore its mark. Johnson and Kennedy personalized, embodied, and, crystallized growing rifts among Democrats. Their feud was, in large part, an ideological and general struggle for the soul of the Democratic Party and the future of American liberalism. Would liberals, like LBJ, continue to represent unions, federal paternalism, and globalism? Or would they move with RFK toward "a newer world" -- a broader coalition, more decentralized decision making, and "empowerment" of the underprivileged? These tensions linger: the long shadow of the Johnson-Kennedy feud looms above today's clash between "Old" and "New" Democrats. Johnson and Kennedy's struggle for power, a focal point of the Democratic search for identity, is a lens through which to examine these larger divisions.

In 1961, after a White House dance, a group of officials gathered upstairs for a late-night batch of scrambled eggs. In the kitchen, Vice President Lyndon Johnson accosted Attorney General Robert Kennedy. "Bobby, you do not like me," Johnson moaned. Bobby recoiled; the situation was painfully awkward for everyone, but the vice president was unrelenting. "Your brother likes me," Johnson went on. "Your sister-in-law likes me. Your Daddy likes me. But you don't like me. Now why? Why don't you like me?"

It remains a central question, charged with emotion and invested with significance. Its answer reveals a great deal about two men, their times, and the nature of power.

The Offer

In the Kennedy suite, it was not altogether clear that an offer was imminent. Overwhelmed by the excitement of victory -- on the first ballot, no less -- Kennedy advisers found it difficult to focus on the thorny and less glamorous matter of the vice presidency. Joe Kennedy dropped by and urged jack to pick Lyndon Johnson, but the candidate appeared irresolute and went to bed at 2:00 a.m., leaving advisers with the impression that only Stuart Symington and Scoop Jackson were being considered. Neither John nor Bobby said a word about LBJ.

Thus began, in Bobby's view, "the most indecisive time we ever had," a period hopelessly snarled by confusion, miscommunication, and murky, mixed intentions. Jack "thought how terrible it was that he had only 24 hours to select a vice president. He really hadn't thought about it at all" According to Bobby, it was only after the presidential nomination, the night of July 13, that they learned johnson was interested in the vice presidency. And yet JFK had been receiving signals for days. Unless Bobby's recollections are wholly inaccurate, which seems unlikely, it appears that he knew nothing of House Speaker Sam] Rayburn's, Washington Post publisher Phil Grahams, or others' overtures on Johnson's behalf. "Well, we couldn't believe [LBJ] would [want the vice presidency]," Bobby said later, speaking more for himself than for his brother, "but Jack decided that he'd go down and talk to him about it anyway."

At 6:30 a.m. on July 14, Pierre Salinger stepped across the hall from his suite into Bobby Kennedy's suite. Ken O'Donnell stood outside the bathroom, where Kennedy was bathing. "How many electoral votes are we gonna get if we capture the East, Northeast, and the solid South?" Bobby shouted from the bathtub. The solid South included Texas. "Are you talking about nominating Lyndon Johnson?" Salinger demanded. "You're not going to do that."

"Yes, we are," Bobby said matter-of-factly. JFK was heading to Johnson's suite at 10 a.m. to make the offer. At this news, the two advisers exploded. O'Donnell violently protested' Johnson's presence on the ticket; he had not forgotten the ugliness of the johnson campaign. Bobby calmly cited Johnson's unique strength in the South. Then, rising from the tub, he dried, dressed, and excused himself to conduct a morning meeting.