Before the Storm
by Rick Perlstein
Hill & Wang
671 pages, $30
For the 43 million Americans who voted against Barry Goldwater in 1964, the most widely shared reason may have been the issue framed by the famous "Daisy" commercial run by the Lyndon B. Johnson campaign. The ad appeared only once, but its fallout was fatal for Goldwater, who was given to apocalyptic banter about "lobbing" missiles "into the men's room of the Kremlin." The ad showed a little girl in a field picking petals off a daisy. "One, two, three, four, five, seven, six, eight, nine," she counts; then, startled, looks up from the flower. The next scene is of an atomic bomb exploding while Johnson's voice intones, "These are the stakes—to make a world in which all of God's children can live, or to go into the dark...." An announcer breaks in, "Vote for President Johnson on November 3. The stakes are too high for you to stay home." Soon Time magazine was reprinting jokes like, "Goldwater's first major address as President: "Ten ... nine ... eight ... seven..." And, "What would a Goldwater presidency be like? Brief." Doyle, Dane, and Bernbach (DDB), the ad agency that created "Daisy," had originally planned a series of ads lionizing Johnson as the new Lincoln for his just-passed Civil Rights Act, but by the time the fall campaign began, civil rights had become a liability for LBJ. As Rick Perlstein, born in 1969, shows in his imaginative and engaging history of the Goldwater Right, Before the Storm: Barry Goldwater and the Unmaking of the American Consensus, a good many of the 27 million Americans who voted for Goldwater did so because they were against civil rights for blacks. The "Daisy" issue long blinded many of us who scoffed at Barry at the time—"stupid to a degree that is incredible," is how one British newspaper characterized him—to the enduring significance of the 1964 presidential campaign: that Barry Goldwater, not Lyndon Johnson, spoke to the future of American politics. The Goldwater coalition was made up of southern whites opposed to civil-rights legislation, northern whites fearful of integration, conservatives, anti-government libertarians, anti-union businessmen, those who agreed with their candidate that it might be a good idea to use "low-yield atomic weapons" to defoliate the forests of Vietnam, and those who agreed that the draft should be abolished. Swelled by riots and division at home and war abroad, the Goldwater coalition elected Richard Nixon; gave Ronald Reagan an even bigger victory in the Electoral College over the liberal Walter Mondale in 1984 than LBJ had won over Goldwater twenty years before; elected a Republican House in 1994; and has just elected George W. Bush. From today's perspective, the winner of the '64 election was Barry Goldwater.
It is LBJ, not Goldwater, who looks out of it today. Here is LBJ speaking on national television on July 2, 1964, the day the Civil Rights Act passed the Senate by a margin of seventy-one to twenty-nine, Goldwater among the twenty-nine: "We believe all men are entitled to the blessings of liberty. Yet millions are being deprived of those blessings—not because of their own failures, but because of the color of their skin.... We can understand how this happened, but it cannot continue. Our Constitution ... forbids it. The principles of our freedom forbid it. Morality forbids it. And the law I signed tonight forbids it." According to an account in Flawed Giant: Lyndon Johnson and His Times, 1961-1973 by the historian Robert Dallek, later that evening Johnson seemed downcast to his aide Bill Moyers, who asked why. "Because Bill," LBJ replied, "I think we have just delivered the South to the Republican party for a long time to come." And here is Goldwater, repeating the words of his constitutional expert William Rehnquist, who—chalk up another one for Barry—is now the chief justice of the current Supreme Court (with another Goldwater protégé, Sandra Day O'Connor, poised to succeed him): "Our aim, as I understand it, is neither to establish a segregated society nor to establish an integrated society. It is to preserve a free society." Goldwater again: "We want to make it safe to live by the law; enough has been done to make it safe to live outside of the law." And: "Our traditional values of individual responsibility ... have been slipping away at a quickened pace." "The moral fiber of the American people is beset by rot and decay." And here, again, is LBJ, appealing to hope not fear at the University of Michigan commencement in May, 1964: "For a century we labored to settle and to subdue a continent. For half a century we called upon unbounded invention and untiring industry to create an order of plenty for all of our people. The challenge of the next half century is whether we have the wisdom to use that wealth to enrich and elevate our national life, and to advance the quality of our American civilization. For in your life we have the opportunity to move not only toward the rich society and the powerful society, but upward to the Great Society." He continued in this, to us, antique vein: "So will you join the battle to give every citizen the full equality God enjoins.... Will you join the battle to give every citizen an escape from the crushing burden of poverty?... Will you join in the battle to build the Great Society?" Goldwater talked about individual freedom and responsibility, about how a big central government in Washington had no business telling local folks how to handle local problems like segregation and private matters like to whom you should rent your apartment or sell your house. He talked about taxes, crime, welfare, and decaying values, using the same language as Nixon, Reagan, Bush, Gingrich, and Bush. Who today speaks LBJ's language?