The movement never grew by denunciation.
The movement never grew by denunciation.
I n the court history of the right, William F. Buckley Jr. and National Review drew the appropriate lines and defenestrated the kooks — the John Birch Society and its leader Robert Welch, the antisemites, the racists — making the right respectable to the American elite and paving the way for Ronald Reagan to win and dramatically change the course of history. And it’s true that Buckley was worried about the reputation of the movement and understandably denounced the Birchers. Russell Kirk, NR’s traditionalist conservative, also called on anyone with influence in conservatism to “renounce” the Birchers.
But the instinct is almost congenital these days. The conservative movement is full of pundits and politicians who ask other figures to name the citizens who “have no place in American politics” or “in either party.” And the ritual has to be done right. You can’t just say you “disagree” with someone; you have to specify and name the evil.
Sometimes politicians do denunciation, as when John McCain scolded a voter who called Barack Obama an Arab. Another voter in a town hall confessed to be “scared” of Obama, and McCain said Obama was a “decent person” and “You don’t have to be scared of a president of the United States.” Nelson Rockefeller used a Republican convention speech to attack the Birchers, too.
You remember that McCain lost. You may not remember that Rockefeller was booed and jeered.
The truth, acknowledged in Matthew Continetti’s history of the conservative movement, The Right, is that Buckley’s excommunication had little effect on the Bircher movement or on liberal and elite opinion about the conservative movement.
This well-choreographed, intellectual-political pas de deux may have shaken the confidence of some Birchers in their leader Welch. It certainly put Buckley, Kirk, and Goldwater on the record against him. But its overall effect was minimal. Welch didn’t go anywhere. And the media continued to portray the Right as fanatical and extreme. . . .
The Kennedy administration, the press, and liberal intellectuals continued to conflate Goldwater and Buckley with Robert Welch and General Walker.
Richard Nixon denounced the Birchers, and his 1962 gubernatorial campaign immediately bled support, and he lost. Within a few years, the pressure to denounce was falling on Ronald Reagan. Respected Republicans like former California Governor Goodwin Knight, San Francisco Mayor George Christopher, and even conservative state Assemblyman Joseph Shell all raised concerns about Reagan’s ties to the Birchers. A Democratic oppo dump attempted to link Reagan to the Birchers. Reagan cited his “great disagreements” with Welch and implied that the society may have a lunatic fringe. He never specified what those disagreements were or who was on the fringe. “They buy my philosophy — I don’t buy theirs” was his standard line. His campaign refused to pursue a more thorough disavowal.
The truth is that it would have been difficult to denounce the Birchers altogether. The media weren’t lying when they noted that Reagan was on the board of Young Americans for Freedom with a “dozen” prominent members of the Birch Society. Barry Goldwater was correct to observe to Buckley that many Arizonans from the highest caste of American life were devoted members. Reagan did not return out-of-state contributions from a man who the Times noted was “a member of the [John Birch Society] endorsers’ committee and a sometime director of ‘the oft-time anti-Semitic National Economic Council.’” Reagan simply brushed off demands. The Times reported: “Mr. Reagan has said that while he does not solicit the society’s support, he will not reject anybody who chooses to endorse his views.”
The instinct to meet the left’s kooks with impressive argument, and simply denounce and disassociate from the right’s nuts and fruits, is most likely born of an inferiority complex. Conservative intellectuals, exiled from the liberal elite, often live under the mistaken delusion that they have already done something wrong by having views that aren’t approved by the academy or the New York Times. They think they can improve their status by practicing moral hygiene on roughly half the citizens who might be inclined to vote for their candidates. Ambitious politicians like Ronald Reagan couldn’t, and can’t, afford such delusions. It didn’t matter in the end that Goldwater denounced Welch; the Kennedy administration used the intelligence agencies to spy on Goldwater and his campaign anyway. And Bill Moyers spent several decades bragging about it. Buckley’s attempt to excommunicate the Birchers did not change how elites view conservatives. The truth is that it’s a huge country and one with deep democratic instincts that express themselves as distaste for politicians who henpeck people far less prominent than they are. Reagan didn’t fall for the trap. He simply asserted that he was his own man, with his own mind. He demonstrated that he didn’t follow the tune of the Birch Society or the media apparatus.
He was leading, and his followers could choose to go with him where he chose, or not.