POLITICAL NOTES: Men v. Machine in Chicago

Chicago's Democratic machine swept the city primary last week, and porcine (245 Ibs.) Alderman Mathias Bauler, who has fattened for 40-odd years on machine politics, celebrated by dancing a jig in his favorite trough, City Hall. "Chicago," grunted happy "Paddy" Bauler, "ain't ready for reform yet." He could be wrong: next month reform will get another chance at Chicago's polls.

Tears & Cold Turkey. Last week the machine mowed down Mayor Martin Kennelly, 67, a businessman with snow-white hair and matching reputation, who was drafted in 1947 to save the Democrats from defeat (after the noisome reign of Boss Ed Kelly). In two terms Kennelly cut the crime rate, reduced prostitution and open gambling, started school reforms and slum-clearance projects. He played along with the machine on patronage—but not far enough. Flushed with confidence after last November's Democratic victory in congressional elections, the leaders decided that Kennelly's degree of independence was an unnecessary nuisance.

Summoned last December by telegram to a meeting of twelve party leaders at Cook County Democratic headquarters, the Morrison Hotel, Kennelly was dumped in a session of less than four minutes. "Is it unanimous then?" he asked. "It's unanimous!" snapped Congressman William Dawson, boss of the South Side (Negro) wards. "They gave me a fast deal," said Kennelly later. The machine's choice for mayor: beefy County Chairman Richard Daley, 52, a fervent party regular, who explains, "No man can walk alone."

Defiantly, Kennelly ran for the Democratic nomination on his own. Against him, the organization had 48 of the 50 Democratic ward bosses, 30,000 well-oiled precinct workers, and endorsements from both U.S. Senator Paul Douglas and the nation's top Democrat, Adlai Stevenson, who broke his own rule against taking sides in primaries because of "my personal respect and friendship" for Dick Daley, Director of Revenue in Stevenson's administration.

On election night Mayor Kennelly, sipping sherry and nibbling sliced turkey as the returns came in, sadly told a friend: "I guess I knew all along I'd lose, but what could I do? I had to fight." A reporter mentioned the bosses. "Unbreakable, just unbreakable, aren't they?" said Kennelly. The results: Daley 364,839; Kennelly 264,775. Merchant Morris B. Sachs, a friend and defeated running mate, kissed Kennelly's cheek, and both men wept.

A Republican Hope. "I will endeavor," proclaimed victorious Democrat Daley, "to walk with deep humility." Actually, he has no choice. Explained an alderman last week "Daley has to play ball with the real bosses in the party." The most powerful of these to emerge from last week's election: Congressman William Levi Dawson, 68.