Billy Graham and the Rise of the Republican South. Steven P. Miller
the evangelist, or at least “make crystal clear your position on this burning moral issue.” Supporting a segregationist would severely hamper Graham's influence among blacks, he added.11 In a sharp reply to King, Billy Graham Evangelistic Association (BGEA) associate Grady Wilson disavowed any political motivation on Graham's part. “Even though we do not see eye to eye with [Daniel] on every issue,” Wilson snapped, “we still love him in Christ, and frankly, I think that should be your position not only as a Christian but as a minister of the gospel of our risen Lord.” Wilson added that Graham had gladly invited King to New York City despite the “scores” of critical responses the BGEA had consequentially received.12
For Graham, evangelistic priorities trumped matters of social concern; Daniel's segregationist politics did not by definition undermine his Christian loyalties. The service proceeded as planned in San Antonio, where Graham told a nonsegregated crowd of thirty thousand that God judges individuals by their hearts, not their skin colors. Daniel went on to victory. Interestingly, a primary opponent mocked the governor for bringing in “a certain integrationist evangelist from an outside state” for an “11th hour appearance…. Is Billy being deceived and rushed to the Alamo City to try to save the Governor's [s]oul, or save his fast-sinking campaign?” Daniel, however, may actually have benefited from public complaints about the San Antonio service by African American U.S. representative Adam Clayton Powell, who also contacted Graham.13 The relationship between King and Graham, meanwhile, vacillated between mostly private warmth and occasional public frostiness into the 1960s, when the ideological and theological differences between them widened even further. (Meanwhile, Graham remained close enough to Daniel to stay with him during his final night as governor, in 1963.)14
Graham's encounters with liberal Protestants were likewise generally less tense than they became a decade later. Here, the much-publicized criticism he received from theologian Reinhold Niebuhr served as the exception proving the rule. During the run-up to the 1957 New York City crusade, Niebuhr, a renowned professor at Union Theological Seminary and an influential liberal anticommunist, dismissed Graham's social ethic as “pietistic individualism” and “moralism,” irresponsible atavisms in light of the complexities of the nuclear age. The “evangelical perfectionism” inherent in Graham's style of revivalism (that is, his focus on the conversion moment as a source for personal regeneration) represented a simplistic and potentially escapist response to the challenges of the twentieth century, argued Niebuhr. Thinking exclusively in terms of saving souls ignored the gravity of “collective evil.”15 Graham responded politely to this criticism, yet yielded no theological ground to Niebuhr.16
Niebuhr, however, grew significantly more charitable toward Graham when the topic turned to race, going no further than to urge the evangelist to address the matter more extensively in his sermons. Their views on desegregation at the time were closer than either would likely have wanted to admit. Despite their many theological differences (not to mention their political, cultural, and stylistic ones), they responded with striking similarity to the Brown decision, favoring gradual implementation of desegregation rooted in respect for the rule of law. Niebuhr, who took pride in his realist gravitas, was only slightly less skeptical than Graham about legislative solutions. Their gradualist positions, though, derived from differing emphases on the individual: for Graham, a stress on individual conversions and human relationships over policy prescriptions; for Niebuhr, a profound caution regarding the ability of individuals to avoid social evils larger than themselves. Niebuhr's significantly more incisive pessimism about group and individual behavior ironically led him to a place similar to Graham's often reflexive optimism about human regeneration. They both worried about the adverse effects of legally coerced justice and tended toward caution when confronted with the mobs surrounding Central High School in Little Rock.17 They shared their concerns with many other white intellectuals and Protestant leaders.18
Niebuhr's critique of Graham resonated with two leading southern liberals, James McBride Dabbs and Francis Pickens Miller. Dabbs, a South Carolina Presbyterian active in the liberal Southern Regional Council, expressed the hope that Graham would mature as an evangelist and urged him to “step into the breach and make his own the power that lies both in the Negroes’ insistence on equality and in the whites’ shame at maintaining inequality.”19 Miller, a Virginian and former New Deal official, as well as a leading southern Presbyterian, abandoned hope in the evangelist after drawing initial inspiration from Graham's willingness to address race during the New York City crusade. Soon afterward, however, he observed how the evangelist shied away from offering similar remarks at a Presbyterian laymen's conference in Miami. Had Graham spoken like a “true Christian prophet,” Miller later reflected, he would not have been “idolized by the rank and file of Southern Protestants.” By saying “what he thought his audiences wanted to hear,” Graham squandered an opportunity “to create an atmosphere favorable to compliance with the law of the land.”20 In truth, Graham had never ceased crusading in parts of the South and had addressed race in several speeches in the region. Still, as his critics could not help but observe, the evangelist had exhibited little desire since the Brown decision to crusade in the Deep South (a sentiment the 1958 Columbia, South Carolina, rally undoubtedly reinforced).
The Eisenhower Network
Many of Graham's critics also noted the way in which his social ethic operated not just within the framework of his theology but within the parameters of the Eisenhower White House as well. Graham's impulse to compromise derived not only from his evangelistic priorities but also from his political connections, which complemented and occasionally clashed with his racial moderation. Indeed, his private communication with political leaders would have confirmed the suspicions of many of his critics. The highest profile of these political allies, Dwight Eisenhower, revealed Graham to be a Republican at heart, if not in name. The Graham-Eisenhower alliance also suggested the way religion and region blended in the evangelist's analysis of contemporary politics.
The relationship between the evangelist and the war hero took root during the run-up to Eisenhower's successful bid for the 1952 Republican presidential nomination. Graham's faith in President Truman, who remained a threat to seek reelection until March of that year, had waned. After the hoopla surrounding their one and only visit, Truman pointedly made no time for the evangelist, despite repeated attempts by Graham to convince the president to appear at the 1952 Washington, D.C., crusade.21 By then, Graham had joined a host of powerful GOP officials (along with a few optimistic Democrats) in urging Eisenhower to enter the race. Included in this group were several of Graham's political friends, such as Republicans Frank Carlson, a Kansas senator, and Walter Judd, a Minnesota representative.22 Graham's contribution came primarily by way of Sid Richardson, a Texas oil baron close to both the general and the evangelist. In the fall of 1951, Richardson gave Eisenhower a letter, written by Graham, in which the evangelist expressed the hope that Richardson would convince Eisenhower to seek the presidency. In a quick response to Graham, Eisenhower (then serving as commander of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization forces in Europe) politely balked at assuming a partisan political identity while still in his post. At the behest of Richardson, Graham responded to Eisenhower with a flurry of theologically tinged hyperbole. “Upon this decision could well rest the destiny of the Western World,” the evangelist wrote of Eisenhower's possible run. Graham asked for an audience with the general in order “to share with you some of the information I have picked up” from “your many friends” in the United States. With assistance from Richardson, they met in France during March 1952.23
After Eisenhower had taken destiny by the reins and entered the race, Graham's public statements routinely echoed the GOP theme of cleaning up a corrupt Washington, D.C. Graham also criticized the Cold War policies of the Democratic administration. “The Korean War,” he told an audience in Houston, “is being fought because the nation's leaders blundered on foreign policy in the Far East…. [Accused Soviet spy] Alger Hiss shaped our foreign policy and some of the men who formulate it [now] have never been to the East.”24 As Graham would attempt to do in subsequent presidential campaigns, he carefully avoided an official endorsement of his preferred candidate. His public appeals on behalf of Eisenhower, however, were no more subtle than his altar calls. By emphasizing the importance of personal character when choosing elected officials, Graham played