South of John C. Calhoun

If there were not a William F. Buckley, U.S. editors would have to invent a James Jackson Kilpatrick. The need for a columnist and commentator with a conservative view and a gift for language has never been more apparent than in these Nixon-Agnew days; Kilpatrick fills that need for 170 newspapers via the Washington Star Syndicate and for Washington's WTOP-TV.

In the process, he also generates a lot of heat. Says a WTOP ad (helpfully written by J.J.K.): "Some liberals insist he is ten miles to the right of Ivan the Terrible. But to those of us who love him, he's only a little to the south of John C. Calhoun." Outraged readers scrawl obscenities on his columns and mail them back to him, which amuses him; radical students hiss and turn their backs on him at campus lectures, which hurts his feelings. The hurt is salved by his fan mail from the Silent Majority, which is rhapsodic.

"I share the Nixon-Agnew philosophy," says Kilpatrick, "but I don't sit on anybody's lap. I've opposed the President on lots of issues." Neither Nixon nor Agnew seems to mind Kilpatrick's opposition: the President has invited him to dinner and Sunday prayers and the Vice President once treated him to a lunch, "where we just yakked. He also made polite noises about my writing."

Harpies and Furies. The writing punches or pets with equal effectiveness. When the House of Representatives voted to approve a women's rights amendment to the Constitution, Kilpatrick screamed: "Gadzooks! Zounds! Horsefeathers! What in the world came over the House? This constitutional time bomb is the contrivance of a gang of professional harpies. The 346 who voted for this resolution, give or take a handful, had but one purpose in mind: to get these furies off their backs."

On the President's use of FBI men on campuses, Kilpatrick declared on television: "I think oppression is needed. The more oppression the better. It is high time we cut down on the bums that are blowing up the campuses, as Mr. Nixon described them." On other issues, his approval is reluctant. "We wish Carswell towered, and he doesn't," he sighed. "But he is the President's choice, and if I were a Republican on the floor instead of a Whig in the gallery, I would, a little sadly, vote 'Aye.' " Kilpatrick calls himself a Whig instead of a Republican because "no newsman should be identified with a party so I'm a Whig. It provides an escape from embarrassing situations."

Such situations arise from Kilpatrick's childhood. "I was brought up a white boy in Oklahoma City in the 1920s and 1930s. I accepted segregation as a way of life. But I've come a long way. Very few of us, I suspect, would like to have our passions and profundities at age 28 thrust in our faces at 50." After he became editor of the Richmond News Leader (he was 30), Kilpatrick became an effective spokesman for Southern conservatism. His editorials were rousing pieces that got him denounced at least once in almost every General Assembly. Says he: "I counted the day lost when nobody denounced me."

Kilpatrick began a thrice-weekly syndicated column for Newsday in 1964, moving on to the Washington Star Syndicate a year later, mainly, he says, to get a Washington outlet. Part of his writing is done at his country home 85 miles west of Alexandria, Va. Sitting with acorns pattering down around him, sipping sour-mash bourbon, admiring his beans and tomatoes, Kilpatrick seems the image of a Southern gentleman. Over his driveway, though, are two flags: the Stars and Stripes and an old Revolutionary War flag showing a black snake and the words, "Don't tread on me."

Sometimes he bites without being trod upon, especially when annoyed by the Star's rival, the Washington Post. "They have the best editorial page in the country, bar none," he admits. "But it isn't balanced. Their only real conservative voice is Little Orphan Annie.'" In his column he raged: "The Post is a brilliant paper, as brilliant as Randolph's famous mackerel in the moonlight."*

Kilpatrick was included in a group of nine columnists, nearly all conservative, who were called to the White House to hear President Nixon's comments immediately after the recent elections. Afterward he wrote, "These were picky voters. They walked through the ballots like so many housewives in a market, squeezing every head of lettuce." His conclusion: "If Mr. Nixon is not exactly crying hallelujah, he doesn't have to sing the blues."

* Noted for his biting sarcasm and his belief in state sovereignty, Virginia Congressman John Randolph (1773-1833) stated his own philosophy: "I am an aristocrat. I love liberty; I hate equality." Of his contemporary, Jurist-Statesman Edward Livingston, he said: "He is a man of splendid abilities, but utterly corrupt. He shines and stinks like rotten mackerel by moonlight."

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