Two of the most publicized figures in American politics were among the real victims of the 1954 elections. The name of Thomas E. Dewey, outgoing governor of New York, does not appear on the official casualty lists for November 2. Franklin D. Roosevelt, Jr., lame-duck congressman from that state, lost out in what must seem to many as nothing more than a minor skirmish. But last week's New York elections mark a decisive turning point in the political careers of these two men, and the repercussions are likely to be felt in national politics for a good many years to come.

Although he was not even on the ballot, Dewey in effect was fighting for his political life in the New York gubernatorial election. Presidential ambitions die hard in American politicians. Even Dewey, that most realistic of political realists, still seems to cherish a faint hope, despite his two earlier defeats. At least he seems to have cherished it until November 2.

Dewey's chances before the election were not quite as far-fetched as has been generally assumed. He is still a comparatively young man, as presidential candidates go; even in 1960, he will be younger than President Eisenhower when he took office last year. Eisenhower himself has made no secret of his high regard for Dewey. Earlier this year, in one of his more enigmatic statements, he hailed Dewey as a man "whose greatest service to his country still lies ahead of him."

Possible presidential ambitions aside, Dewey certainly has no desire to lose his position of leadership in the Republican Party. As a bulwark of liberal Republicanism, he cannot relish the prospect of party control passing to his long-time antagonists, the midwestern Republicans.

So Dewey fought hard for his candidate, Senator Irving Ives, in the recent new York campaign. What began as a high-level, rather academic debate on the merits, or lack of them, of the Dewey administration turned into a free-for-all in the final weeks. Faced with a wholly unexpected defeat, Dewey dictated a complete turnabout in Republican campaign tactics, and Senator Ives obeyed, whatever his real feelings on the matter were. Nevertheless, the Republicans will be evacuating the State House in Albany in January.

Dewey can now look forward to his Pawling farm and a New York law office, but not to 1500 Pennsylvania Avenue. He is on St. Helena this time, not Elba.

Meanwhile, the New York State Republican party faces the prospect of an internal struggle for power. For it is questionable whether Dewey can hope to retain even a portion of his earlier political influence. A retiring governor ordinarily has little enough power in the state organization, even if he is able to select his successor. But a governor whose hand-picked candidate goes down to defeat is likely to find himself a political outcast. The result may be a dangerous power vacuum within the state party.

This could have serious consequences for the liberal wing of the Republican Party on the national level. New York State is not quite the impregnable stronghold of liberal Republicanism that one might gather from the editorial pages of the Chicago Tribune. One of the lesser-known facts about the 1952. Republican convention is that there was considerable Taft sentiment in the New York delegation. It has been estimated that as many as fifty delegates were personally favorable to Taft. But when Dewey cracked the whip, the elephant performed as a good elephant should and gave almost 100 votes to Eisenhower, assuring him of the nomination. No Sabu with Dewey's skills seems to be emerging to hold the state together as well as the former governor did. Unless President Eisenhower himself decides to run again, the New York delegation may be in a chaotic state at the 1956 Republican convention.

Miscalculated Risk

The other prominent New York casualty was Franklin D. Roosevelt, Jr., who lost his race for attorney-general by about 170,000 votes. Undoubtedly he had something less than an ardent desire to be attorney-general of the state and probably would have been rather distressed at the prospect of actually serving. His motives in taking the nomination seem to have had a slight touch of Machiavellianism. He apparently accepted it with the expectation that even if the whole ticket lost, he could decisively outrun the other Democratic candidates and so win recognition as the strongest vote-getter in the state party. Obviously Roosevelt made a disastrous miscalculation.

Although Congressman Jacob K. Javits was a strong opponent and won many Jewish votes away from him, Roosevelt showed fatal weaknesses among certain other traditionally Democratic groups in the state, which do not have very much reverence for the Roosevelt name at present. The allegedly colorless Harriman ran 150,000 votes ahead of him and the little-known candidate for controller topped his total by almost the same margin.

His defeat probably was a relief to a good many national Democratic leaders, including some of his colleagues in the northern liberal wing of the party. Even as a humble Congressman, he played a prominent and highly disruptive role at the 1952 Democratic convention. The thought of Roosevelt at the 1956 convention, flushed with electoral victory, would have been enough to send the Southerners inquiring anxiously about the nearest exit. The peacemakers among the northern Democrats, who are attempting to ensure a united party in 1956, would not have been much happier about their prospects.

It may be premature to discount Roosevelt's political future altogether. One suspects that national committee-man Carmine De Sapio and his fellow Democratic leaders gave something to him in return for his agreement to accept a subordinate position on the ticket. That something may be a promise of the nomination for Senator in 1956, if Senator Lehman should decide to retire, or for Senator in 1958 against the apparently vulnerable Ives.

But Roosevelt's standing, both in the party and in the state at large, has hardly been enhanced by his showing in the election. The myth of his vote-getting appeal has been badly shattered. It will be a long road back.