The VP drama the last time America had a presidential rematch — in 1956

While Biden has been supportive of Harris, his expressions of confidence have hardly been ringing. But in 1956, the relationship between Eisenhower and Vice President Richard Nixon was even more fraught.

With the 2024 nominations essentially wrapped up, commentators are reminding us that the Joe Biden-Donald Trump race will be the first presidential rematch since Dwight Eisenhower and Adlai Stevenson faced off in 1956.

Although that contest was never close — Eisenhower won in a landslide, as he had done in 1952 — there are aspects of that campaign season that may repeat this year: the drama of selecting candidates for vice president.

Given the continued debate over Biden’s age and fitness, and her unimpressive first term performance, serious doubts have been voiced among Democratic Party insiders regarding the renomination of Kamala Harris for the second spot on the ticket. While Biden’s polling is poor, Harris’s approval rating is among the lowest ever recorded for a vice president.

While Biden has been supportive of Harris, his expressions of confidence have hardly been ringing. But in 1956, the relationship between Eisenhower and Vice President Richard Nixon was even more fraught.

In the 1952 campaign, Nixon’s candidacy had gotten off to a rocky start. In September, the New York Post alleged he was in control of a secret $18,000 fund contributed by “millionaires” in California that supported his lifestyle in return for political favors. Pressured by Ike and by GOP party leaders to resign, Nixon instead redeemed himself with his famous “Checkers speech,” heard or watched by 60 million Americans.

While it marked Nixon as a fighter who could connect with voters in a new medium, the affair permanently soured Eisenhower on his running mate. “Ever after,” concluded Eisenhower biographer William Hitchcock, “Ike would treat him with suspicion and a certain disdain.”

At the end of 1955, Eisenhower suggested Nixon leave the ticket and instead take on a cabinet post in his next administration — exactly what Franklin Roosevelt and the Democratic leadership forced incumbent VP Henry Wallace to do in 1944. Ike continued in this vein well into 1956 and avoided publicly endorsing Nixon’s renomination.

Eisenhower had no obvious replacement in mind, and Nixon had acquitted himself well in his first term, in particular following the president’s 1955 heart attack. But Eisenhower did not see his vice president as having the stature to succeed him as the 1960 nominee and party leader. Like FDR, he was not above leaving an associate to twist in the wind.

Nixon pushed back and resisted the president’s prodding, seeing a cabinet demotion as squelching his chance to lead the 1960 ticket. He also enjoyed solid support among the party’s rank and file. Despite some last minute “dump Nixon” campaigning by Republican gadfly Harold Stassen, Eisenhower grew bored of his own scheming. He finally offered Nixon a lukewarm endorsement three weeks before each was renominated at the party’s August 19 convention.

On the Democratic side, Adlai Stevenson II was not unfamiliar with the history of vice president choices in rematch years.

Remarkably, his grandfather Adlai Stevenson, formerly an assistant postmaster general, had twice been the Democratic vice-presidential nominee: in Grover Cleveland’s successful 1892 rematch with Benjamin Harrison, and in William Jennings Bryan’s failed second effort against William McKinley in 1900.

Stevenson declined to ask his 1952 running mate, Sen. John J. Sparkman of Alabama, to join the ticket a second time. Sparkman was among a number of Southern congressmen and senators who signed the Southern Manifesto, a minority resolution opposing federal school desegregation efforts in the wake of the Supreme Court’s 1954 Brown vs. Board of Education decision.

But following his renomination in Chicago, Stevenson decided on an unconventional move: he left in the hands of the convention the selection of his running mate. Then-Sen. Lyndon Johnson described it as “the goddamndest, stupidest move a politician could make.” The delegates subsequently selected Sen. Estes Kefauver of Tennessee, a previous presidential hopeful, on the third ballot.

But that contest is best remembered for the candidate who came in second: 39-year-old John F. Kennedy.

Early in 1956, speculation among pundits was that JFK’s youth, good looks and mainstream liberalism would make him an ideal running mate for Adlai. There was some concern whether his Catholicism would be an obstacle, as it had been for Al Smith in the presidential election of 1928, or whether, three decades later, an advantage for the ticket. Also lurking in the background was Kennedy’s history of ill health and frequent hospitalizations.

One opponent of his candidacy was Joseph Kennedy. The formidable father of the Kennedy clan considered Eisenhower unbeatable and feared a Democratic defeat would be laid in part at the feet of Jack’s religion. JFK was himself undecided until the opening of the convention — where the New York Times described him as “a prospect for the Democratic vice-presidential nomination” who “came before the convention tonight as a movie star.” The chance to win on a national stage became irresistible.

By the second round of the VP balloting, Kennedy was in the lead, with 47 percent of the delegates. But on the third ballot, fellow Tennessee Sen. Albert Gore, father of a future vice president, swung his delegates to Kefauver, who ultimately prevailed.

Coming up short in 1956 was a fortunate outcome for Kennedy. He was introduced to America under a national spotlight, and he could campaign for president in 1960 as a fresh face unsullied by previous defeat. In his case, Nixon’s dogged perseverance in the face of a faithless chief would position him to join JFK for one of the more memorable presidential contests of the century.

While he may harbor doubts regarding Kamala Harris, Biden, like Eisenhower in 1956, will be hard pressed to force his vice president from the ticket. But Donald Trump’s choice of a running mate is still a wildcard; like Stevenson, he has ruled out his previous, two-time running mate, Mike Pence.

While he is unlikely to drag the decision out to the convention, Trump has been noncommittal when presented with prospective names such as Sen. Tim Scott (R-S.C.), former Rep. Tulsi Gabbard (D-Hawaii), and South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem. He will no doubt milk his selection process for all the attention it affords: a script reminiscent of the vice-presidential drama of that last rematch seven decades ago.

Paul C. Atkinson, a former executive at the Wall Street Journal, is a contributing editor of the New York Sun.