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Joe Biden’s choice to step aside has resurrected discussion of Lyndon Johnson, who stunned Americans by doing the same thing on March 31, 1968. In both cases, the Presidents opened the door for their Vice Presidents to be the Democratic nominee for President.
[time-brightcove not-tgx=”true”]And yet, because Johnson never relinquished party leadership behind the scenes, the Democratic National Convention resulted in chaos and division, not party unity. As aide Joseph Califano admitted, Johnson’s “people organized the convention and virtually dictated the platform.” The lessons from Johnson’s unwillingness to step back can help Biden avoid making mistakes that would hurt Kamala Harris’s chances of capturing the presidency.
After Republicans met in Miami in early August 1968, their nominee, Richard Nixon, led Vice President Hubert Humphrey by 16 points (with Alabama Governor George Wallace taking 18%). The massive lead left Democrats panicking about Humphrey winning the nomination at the Chicago convention. Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy—who had been running since day one—hovered around, but few establishment figures liked him. Many Democrats lamented the loss of the assassinated Robert Kennedy and talked about drafting his brother, Massachusetts Senator Edward Kennedy. Yet others pushed Johnson to reenter the race.
Chicago Mayor Richard Daley and John Criswell (labeled by TIME as “the most powerful figure within the Democratic National Committee”) pushed a Draft Johnson narrative. On Aug. 9, Criswell wrote: “The president should come to the convention” on Tuesday night for “an appearance and birthday celebration.” Criswell hoped such an appearance might spur a draft movement, one that he was willing to lead “if there is any chance he will do it.”
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Many prominent Democrats were at least open to Johnson reentering the race, because Humphrey had angered them by proposing to abolish a rule that gave more voting power to those who ran the state delegations. That included Texas Governor John Connally, a Johnson protege. The Texan (and soon-to-be-Republican) stressed: “If Humphrey thinks he’s got the nomination locked up, he better count the delegates again . . . He’d better remember that we in the South can deny him the nomination.” Not long after, the Texan told one Johnson loyalist that if Humphrey “wasn’t careful, Lyndon Johnson would be entered in the nomination.”
This talk dominated the weeks running up to the convention. One former Johnson lawyer, Jake Jacobsen, observed that “this convention is going to draft the President if there is the slightest indication the draft will be accepted.”
Johnson did little to quash the talk. He was annoyed that Humphrey was laboring, through speeches and behind-the-scenes negotiations, to fashion a compromise between “hawks” and “doves” over Vietnam, which heightened rumors of a convention challenge. While anti-war forces wanted Humphrey to go far further, Johnson saw his efforts as a betrayal by his Vice President. He thought’s Humphrey’s position was too weak because it included calls for an unconditional bombing halt and troop withdrawal. Johnson saw it as undermining his efforts at achieving peace.
Johnson did tell students at Texas State University: “I am not a candidate for anything, except maybe for a rocking chair.” Nevertheless, behind the scenes, he encouraged Connally to gauge interest in the Draft Johnson movement. Connally reported: “I believe in his heart he wanted the moment of drama, the emotion of the convention swept away as in olden times, and the vindication it would present.”
When the convention opened, fights developed over delegate selection rules as protests intensified in the streets outside. Johnson watched it all unfold on three televisions in the office at his ranch as he worked feverishly on a speech. One aide observed that he kept “fantasizing that the convention would be such a mess that he would go in and be acclaimed as the nominee.”
But people on the ground in Chicago reported significant opposition. Even Lady Bird Johnson acknowledged after the fight over delegate rules that “the likelihood of our making the trip . . . seemed to dwindle to almost nothing.” As Johnson kept working the phones, Connally made one more effort, polling southern governors on drafting Johnson. But despite the President’s Texas roots, each said no because of his positions on civil rights and other liberal policies. Daley even wavered, saying he might support Kennedy to stop Humphrey. Nonetheless, Johnson continued to tell people he’d go to Chicago to help the country.
After lunch and a swim, Johnson made a series of eight phone calls, including to Daley and Criswell, that afternoon with his plane on standby. Only at 5 PM did his press secretary George Christian tell the press that he was staying in Texas.
That night Johnson watched the chaos in Chicago — inside and outside of the convention hall. South Dakota Senator George McGovern joined McCarthy in a Stop Humphrey movement while the press worked itself into a frenzy pushing the idea of drafting Ted Kennedy. Battles erupted over the Vietnam platform plank amid shouts of “Stop the War” and near fistfights occurred among passionate delegates. The only mention of the president, however, came when Anita Bryant sang “Happy Birthday” to him.
The convention hurt the Democrats as the contentious debate over Vietnam split the delegates. In the streets, the police clashed with protestors, the tear gas choking conventiongoers. One journalist wrote: “The Democrats are finished.”
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Humphrey limped out of Chicago, wounded largely by his having to defend the president’s Vietnam plank, and Nixon seized on it as a sign of the opposition’s decay as he preached about law and order and a vague “peace with honor” in Vietnam.
But Johnson—still politically astute—predicted the gap would narrow as Nixon showed his true self. He tried to help Humphrey at the end with some joint campaign appearances and more importantly through what appeared to be a realistic negotiation with the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong, only to have the Nixon campaign sabotage it. And Humphrey almost pulled off a major upset as he came within half a million votes of Nixon and only lost 43.4% to 42.7%.
This example is illustrative in several ways for today. First, it reveals how awkward this kind of situation can be, especially if Harris breaks with Biden on certain issues. And it shows the way that bitterness over the process can cause visible friction at the convention.
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Yet, the case of 1968 also points to the importance of creating unity and momentum around Harris and letting her chart her own course — even if that means criticizing Biden. When President Biden addresses the Democratic Convention on Monday night, his speech will need to focus on helping Harris win. He can’t just celebrate his own record. He also needs to stage a true passing of the torch moment in which he acknowledges the need for a new generation of leadership in the party.
There is a key difference between Biden and Johnson, however. The latter was spiteful and vindictive. Biden, by contrast, seems more inclined to do what it takes to ensure Harris wins. He’s also politically astute and knows the election may depend on him managing conflicting emotions that could prevent him from fully embracing Harris and her—not his—vision for the presidency.
Kyle Longley, Salvatori professor of history at Chapman University, executive director of the Society for Military History, and author of LBJ’s 1968: Power, Politics, and the Presidency in America’s Year of Upheaval and forthcoming in 2026 of The Death of LBJ: Days in the Life.
Made by History takes readers beyond the headlines with articles written and edited by professional historians. Learn more about Made by History at TIME here. Opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of TIME editors.