Donald Trump’s GOP Convention Will Be Nuts. But at Least It Won’t Be Known as “the Klanbake.”

Probably.

Pigasus the pig, the Yippies' presidential candidate in 1968Fred W. McDarrah/Getty Images

Fight disinformation: Sign up for the free Mother Jones Daily newsletter and follow the news that matters.


Steak magnate Donald Trump emerged from the Republican primary with just enough delegates to stave off a potential floor fight in Cleveland this week. While that’s bad news for what’s left of the GOP’s #NeverTrump contingent, the real loser may be political junkies, who thought they’d finally see the ivory-billed woodpecker of American politics—the brokered convention. Instead, they’ll have to settle for reliving the chaos of years past.

1836: The Anti-Masonic Party may have invented the political nominating convention, but it certainly didn’t perfect it; the party’s second effort ends without a presidential nominee amid fears that front-runner William Henry Harrison does not actually oppose Freemasonry in all cases.

1839: The first contested convention ends with the first instance of candidate-on-candidate violence. Henry Clay assaults war hero Winfield Scott—who was deep in a game of whist—after hearing that his rival cut a deal to hand the Whig nomination to Harrison. Clay is dragged from the room. Scott challenges him to a duel.

1860: The gold standard of dysfunction. Southern delegates walk out of the Democratic convention in Charleston, South Carolina, over slavery. They bolt again when the party holds a do-over in Baltimore two months later. Mirroring the schism nationwide, the party goes into November with two nominees.

1912: Undeterred by a violent primary campaign (delegates in Missouri were chosen by voters swinging baseball bats), ex-President Theodore Roosevelt promises to use “roughhouse tactics” to seize the Republican nomination from “fathead” President William Howard Taft. Roosevelt breaks with tradition by showing up in Chicago, but after losing a key procedural vote—and amid allegations of bribery on both sides—he abandons his plan to “terrorize” the convention there. Instead, he and delegates walk out and form their own party.

Theodore Roosevelt at what appears to be the first Progressive Party Convention Library of Congress

1920: Ohio Gov. Warren G. Harding enters the phrase “smoke-filled room” into the political lexicon when Republican power brokers huddle in Room 404 of Chicago’s Blackstone Hotel to pick a compromise candidate. Harding wins on the 10th ballot.

The opening of the 1920 Republican National Convention in Chicago AP Photo

1924: Known as “the Klanbake,” the longest convention in history (16 days) pits the Ku Klux Klan-backed William Gibbs McAdoo against New York’s Catholic governor, Al Smith, in Manhattan. After a plank condemning the Klan is nixed from the platform, 20,000 Klansmen—including some delegates—celebrate in New Jersey by burning a cross and throwing baseballs at an effigy of Smith.

Gov. Alfred E. Smith received a 90-minute ovation at the 1924 Democratic Convention AP Photo

1964: New York’s Republican governor, Nelson Rockefeller, is booed unmercifully at San Francisco’s Cow Palace when he proposes an amendment condemning the “extremism” of the KKK and the John Birch Society. Meanwhile, supporters of the eventual nominee, Barry Goldwater, harass reporters, hurling trash (and racial slurs) at two African American journalists. The “Woodstock of the Right” ushers in a conservative revolution and an electoral disaster. Sound familiar?

Susan Goldwater promoting the candidacy of her husband, Barry Eve Arnold/Magnum Photos

1968: Some 10,000 anti-war protesters clash with more than 20,000 police officers and National Guardsmen outside the Democratic convention in Chicago. The violence spills into the convention hall, where CBS News’ Dan Rather is assaulted by the police on air. Protesters from the Youth International Party—the Yippies—hold a shadow convention to nominate their own presidential candidate, a 145-pound pig named Pigasus.

1976: With President Gerald Ford 24 delegates shy of victory in Kansas City, Ronald Reagan bets the house on a risky move—he picks a running mate. Reagan’s choice of moderate Pennsylvania Sen. Richard Schweiker blows up in his face when the party’s right wing threatens a revolt. Although Ford wins (by a hair) on the first ballot, Reagan has the last laugh: His concession speech overshadows the nominee and sets the stage for his conservative revival four years later.

Ronald Reagan and his running mate, Sen. Richard Schweiker, at the 1976 GOP convention AP Photo

WE'LL BE BLUNT:

We need to start raising significantly more in donations from our online community of readers, especially from those who read Mother Jones regularly but have never decided to pitch in because you figured others always will. We also need long-time and new donors, everyone, to keep showing up for us.

In "It's Not a Crisis. This Is the New Normal," we explain, as matter-of-factly as we can, what exactly our finances look like, how brutal it is to sustain quality journalism right now, what makes Mother Jones different than most of the news out there, and why support from readers is the only thing that keeps us going. Despite the challenges, we're optimistic we can increase the share of online readers who decide to donate—starting with hitting an ambitious $300,000 goal in just three weeks to make sure we can finish our fiscal year break-even in the coming months.

Please learn more about how Mother Jones works and our 47-year history of doing nonprofit journalism that you don't find elsewhere—and help us do it with a donation if you can. We've already cut expenses and hitting our online goal is critical right now.

payment methods

WE'LL BE BLUNT

We need to start raising significantly more in donations from our online community of readers, especially from those who read Mother Jones regularly but have never decided to pitch in because you figured others always will. We also need long-time and new donors, everyone, to keep showing up for us.

In "It's Not a Crisis. This Is the New Normal," we explain, as matter-of-factly as we can, what exactly our finances look like, how brutal it is to sustain quality journalism right now, what makes Mother Jones different than most of the news out there, and why support from readers is the only thing that keeps us going. Despite the challenges, we're optimistic we can increase the share of online readers who decide to donate—starting with hitting an ambitious $300,000 goal in just three weeks to make sure we can finish our fiscal year break-even in the coming months.

Please learn more about how Mother Jones works and our 47-year history of doing nonprofit journalism that you don't elsewhere—and help us do it with a donation if you can. We've already cut expenses and hitting our online goal is critical right now.

payment methods

We Recommend

Latest

Sign up for our free newsletter

Subscribe to the Mother Jones Daily to have our top stories delivered directly to your inbox.

Get our award-winning magazine

Save big on a full year of investigations, ideas, and insights.

Subscribe

Support our journalism

Help Mother Jones' reporters dig deep with a tax-deductible donation.

Donate