Can Trump Do Better Than “Grover the Good?”
It has been noted many times that if Donald Trump wins the White House again in November, he would be only the second president to return to the White House after having lost a bid for a second term four years earlier. The other, of course, was Grover Cleveland, a Democrat and a fellow New Yorker, who served his first term between 1884-88 and then again from 1892 to 1896.
And that’s usually where the comparison ends. But maybe a closer look is warranted. There are some interesting parallels between the two men and some recent statements by former President Trump might indicate he’s been doing some reading up on his own about his relatively obscure predecessor.
Like Trump, Cleveland was a political outsider who enjoyed a meteoric rise to the highest office in the land. In just two short years, he went from mayor of Buffalo, New York to governor to president. Like Trump, his ascent was propelled in large measure by a public desire to “drain the swamp.” The Gilded Age following the Civil War saw the creation of a large wealthy class for the first time in American history, accompanied by widespread political corruption. Cleveland’s main asset was his reputation for promoting honesty and clean government. “A public office is a public trust,” was his slogan.
Unsurprisingly, the beneficiaries of the swamp weren’t happy at the prospect of “Grover the Good” occupying the White House and the 1884 campaign, like the 2016 election, shaped up as one of the dirtiest in anyone’s memory. There was charge and countercharge of corruption and personal scandal. Cleveland’s Republican opponent, James G. Blaine, had a dodgy reputation for being involved in shady deals. “Blaine! Blaine! James G. Blaine! The continental liar from the state of Maine!” was the Democratic Party chat at rallies.
In response, the Republicans began digging around in Cleveland’s past and seemingly struck political gold. Aided by a Buffalo preacher named George H. Ball, they made public the allegation that Cleveland had fathered an illegitimate child. Their rallies soon featured the chant "Ma, Ma, where's my Pa?"
But Cleveland responded in an unexpected manner: instead of an angry denial, he told the truth. He admitted that he might be the child’s father, had paid child support and arranged for the boy’s adoption. The candid admission largely defused the scandal. (It also had the side benefit of putting to rest rumors of homosexuality on the part of the 47-year-old bachelor candidate.)
As in recent elections, the outcome came down to a handful of “swing states:” Connecticut, Indiana, New Jersey, and, especially, New York. The latter, with its 36 electoral votes, was the biggest prize on the political chessboard.
Blaine seemed to be headed for a narrow victory, until Republican New York Rev. Samuel Burchard denounced the Democrats as the party of “rum, Romanism, and rebellion.” The all-important Irish vote, which seemed to be leaning toward Blaine until that moment, swung to Cleveland in the face of the implied anti-Catholic slur. (A letter from the British ambassador seemingly endorsing Blaine also didn’t help.) The Democrat thus carried New York by a paper-thin 1,200 vote margin, as well as the other three swing states, and became the first Democrat to win the White House in his own right since James Buchanan prior to the Civil War.
As President, Cleveland was generally popular, but his decision to veto bills expanding pension rights for Union Civil War veterans and relief for drought-stricken Texas farmers hurt him. His failure to comprehensively lower tariffs also damaged his standing with Democrats.
Nevertheless, the Treasury had a surplus and Cleveland was easily renominated in 1888 to face Republican Benjamin Harrison, grandson of the eighth president, William Henry Harrison. Unlike the mudslinging of four years earlier, however, the 1888 campaign was a more sedate affair, focused once more on the four swing states.
This time, however, Cleveland managed to win only two of the four. While still securing the national popular vote, he was thwarted by that old Democratic Party bugaboo, the Electoral College. This time, Harrison captured New York by less than 15,000 votes, tipping its 36 electoral votes into the GOP column. That was enough to give Harrison the presidency, but with a popular minority.
As in 2016, the loss was the second time in less than two decades that Democrats had seen the presidency slip through their fingers thanks to the Electoral College. This “we wuz robbed” sense among Democrats made Cleveland the leading contender for 1892. Despite some last-minute efforts by New York Sen. David Hill to stop him, the former president was re-nominated on the first ballot.
Harrison had inherited Cleveland’s surplus, but soon spent it on more generous Civil War pensions and business subsidies. Future President William McKinley’s “McKinley Tariff” had raised prices. Andrew Carnegie’s breaking of the Homestead strike in Pittsburgh also hurt the Republicans. The death of Harrison’s wife Caroline from tuberculosis shortly before the election failed to generate much of a “sympathy” vote for Harrison, and Cleveland won comfortably with both a popular and an electoral majority.
Unfortunately for Cleveland, that was just about the last piece of political good news he would receive for the next four years. If he soon began to regret his decision to run a third time, it would be hard to blame him.
Almost as soon as Cleveland took office, the “Panic of 1893” struck Wall Street, leading to probably the worst economic collapse in American history prior to the Great Depression. This caused great hardship, particularly in the Democratic-leaning Western states. Cleveland called a special session of Congress, which debated for 15 weeks before repealing the Sherman Silver Purchase Act, which angered many Democrats and had only a marginal effect on the economy.
The panic also led to much labor unrest, most notably the Pullman Strike of 1894. By the middle of that year, 125,000 railway workers were on strike. Because the railroads moved the mails, Cleveland intervened, using federal troops to break the strike in Chicago. "If it takes the entire army and navy of the United States to deliver a postcard in Chicago," he proclaimed, "that card will be delivered."
Cleveland’s political advisers warned he was courting disaster in the 1894 midterms, and it wasn’t long in coming. The Democrats suffered the greatest defeat in American political history, losing 127 House seats. Republicans also captured control of the Senate.
In the midst of this political avalanche, Cleveland was diagnosed with possible cancer of the mouth. On July 1, 1893, Cleveland underwent a secret operation aboard a yacht in Long Island Sound to remove part of his left upper jaw, as well as one later to insert a rubber prosthesis that restored his speech and appearance. The cover story that he had several teeth removed satisfied the press.
Following the 1894 debacle, Cleveland was effectively sidelined for the rest of his term. The Democrats nominated populist firebrand William Jennings Bryan to succeed him in 1896. Pro-gold Democrats wanted to re-nominate Cleveland on a third-party ticket, but he declined. He retired to Princeton, New Jersey, where he served on the board of Princeton University, clashing with future president Woodrow Wilson. He died of a heart attack in 1908 at age 71, saying “I have tried so hard to do right.”
What lessons does Cleveland’s second term hold for Donald Trump? Potentially, quite a few.
A second Trump administration would be taking office amid economic doldrums that could potentially morph into a storm of 1893-like proportions. (Or worse.) With the Federal debt now exceeding $35 trillion and the government borrowing a trillion dollars every 100 days, the potential for economic calamity isn’t hard to perceive.
As evidenced by his campaign, focused on the parlous state of the economy, Trump plainly knows this and is laying down markers in the event of bad economic news in his new term. He wants voters to know that if things go pear-shaped in 2025, he inherited the mess and did not create it.
No one knows what might happen, of course, but the track record of second presidential terms is not generally encouraging. Trump can only hope that his can only be less disastrous than that of his historical predecessor.
