Andrew Saunders:
America has never seen a presidential candidate like this before. Detractors point to his lack of political experience, his poor grasp of policy, his alleged autocratic leanings and his shady past. They believe this man without much of a political platform (but with interesting hair) has neither the qualifications nor the temperament to be president. Yet in defiance of conventional wisdom, he is leading his three main rivals in the race for the White House, and party bigwigs are at a loss how to respond. No, it’s not Donald Trump. His name is Andrew Jackson, and the year is 1824.
Andrew Jackson was one of America’s first political outsiders. Born to impoverished immigrants in the backwoods of the South, he was tough, thin-skinned and fiercely confrontational—a brawling Jackson once took a musket ball in the chest before killing a rival in a duel. Resolute and strategically brilliant, Jackson rose through the ranks to become the greatest war hero of his generation. Known by his supporters as Old Hickory, Jackson stirred passions in the American people that his presidential rivals John Quincy Adams, William Crawford and Henry Clay could only dream of. Tens of thousands flocked to the charismatic outsider who positioned himself as a steadfast defender of the Republic. Jackson’s rallies dwarfed those of his rivals. Yet he had little political experience and plenty of baggage. Jackson was, his rivals believed, more of a celebrity than a serious candidate.
In many ways the general election of 1824 mirrors the Republican primary today. Following the collapse of the Federalist Party some years earlier, America was effectively under single-party rule, and all four candidates were members of the same political party, the Democratic-Republicans. In that way, 1824 was more like an extended primary campaign than a general election—a primary that would determine not just the direction of the nation, but also the fate of the party. And, as is the case in the GOP today, voters in 1824 appeared restless for change, and the most popular candidate was viewed as unacceptable by many in the party establishment.
In the election, held in December 1824, Jackson stunned his rivals to win a clear plurality in the popular vote and Electoral College. With 99 Electoral College votes to Adams’ 84, Crawford’s 41 and Clay’s 37, Jackson was short of an outright majority, but undoubtedly had the strongest claim to the White House. However, with no overall winner, the decision was put to the House of Representatives, which was then under the speakership of failed candidate Henry Clay. Clay threw his support not to Jackson but to second-placed John Quincy Adams. When Adams became America’s sixth president he returned the favor, appointing Clay his secretary of state.
To Jackson’s many detractors this was a legitimate move. The old general, who Clay referred to condescendingly as a “military chieftain”, was a polarizing figure who had fallen short of an outright majority. Adams, meanwhile, was a highly capable politician—indeed in the words of historian Daniel Feller he was “probably the most qualified man to be president the United States has ever produced.” Clay and his allies believed Adams could be a consensus choice, a man with the integrity and experience to unite the nation. A furious Jackson, however, blasted the deal as a “Corrupt Bargain.” From his perspective, Clay and Adams had conspired against him, putting their own interests above of the will of the people.
Whatever the truth, the deal backfired. The snub steeled Jackson for revenge and allowed him to paint the administration as corrupt and out of touch. What’s more, it fired up Jackson’s supporters and united a broad coalition of politicians and voters including many who had not supported him the first time round. This coalition would grow into a brand new political entity—theDemocratic Party. It would also catapult Jackson to the White House just four years later, where he became one of America’s most consequential and controversial presidents. John Quincy Adams, however, would serve one unremarkable term, hamstrung by his minority status and dogged by claims of illegitimacy.
After the controversy of 1824, the election of 1828 was surely the most ill-tempered presidential campaign in history. Jackson’s supporters slammed Adams as effete and elitist. In an assault that puts Trump’s insults to shame, they claimed, falsely, that as minister to Russia, Adams procured an American virgin for the Czar. They were, in effect, calling the president a pimp. Meanwhile Adams and his allies hit back, attacking Jackson as barely literate, as a bigamist and as a murderer who had executed several of his own soldiers for minor infractions. Astonishingly, all these accusations were true, and yet—in a sign that should worry Trump’s antagonists—none of them stuck. Instead, they seemed to make Old Hickory even more popular, underscoring the fact that he was quite unlike most politicians. Jackson won the 1828 election in a landslide.
Back in 2016, and Donald Trump is well on his way to the Republican nomination, having solidified his delegate lead with clear wins in Tuesday’s primaries in Michigan, Mississippi and Hawaii. (And he’s ahead in the polls in the two big winner-take-all states of Ohio and Florida.) Yet signs suggest that some Republicans are planning to follow the Adams-Clay playbook and do all they can to deny him the nomination. Establishment favorites Mitt Romney and candidate Marco Rubio have suggested that primary voters should vote tactically to deny Trump a majority of delegates. Meanwhile, other party leaders are dreaming of a brokered convention in Cleveland in July.
A good historical comparison because there are definite similarities. While the Jackson-Adams match-up was nasty, the Hamilton-Burr rivalry was just as nasty as it resulted in Hamilton’s death. The highly personal feud between the two went on for some time, but allegedly the final straw was that Burr believed Hamilton was spreading rumors that Burr’s daughter Theodosia, whom he had great affection for, was for all practical purposes, a slut. The lesson here is that politicians have always resorted to doing whatever it takes to get their power. Perhaps we should bring back dueling. : )
The eye opening point of all this is that we are starting to see similarities between present day America and Antebellum America. Those familiar with American history know how Antebellum America ended.
Just goes to show you a guy can be president after killing someone with a gun. Jackson 103 duels before he was president.
@kitt: He also served in the Revolutionary War at age 13 and was captured by the British. He pummeled his would be assassin with his cane when he was POTUS. Unlike Obama who likes to talk and act like he is a bad ass, Jackson actually was one. Probably the biggest one to occupy the WH.
@another vet: Didn’t seem to be the kind of guy that you would want to argue with or call a name. Wild political times back then.
@kitt: @kitt: That’s for certain. Jackson and his first VP, John Calhoun, had a wild relationship. It makes for interesting reading. Talk about animosity.
The way elections were run and how the VP was chosen had much to do with that. Same Party does not mean same views.
I wonder in todays dollars what it would cost to run for VP?