Ever since Dwight Eisenhower strode across a Chicago street to shake the late Senator Taft’s hand in July, 1952, the combination of a popular leader and general political success has imposed an artificial solidarity on the diverse ranks of the Republican Party. Eisenhower has repeatedly called his administration’s philosophy “modern Republicanism,” and in many cases those GOP leaders who tend to read “New Deal” for “modern” have been content to hold their peace rather than buck the political power of a nationally popular president.

In the past year, however, Eisenhower’s national prestige has sunk appreciably due both to his “lame-duck” presidency and to decreased activity since his November stroke. At the same time the Administration has been buffeted by the strongest criticism of its five years over questions of national defense and the current economic recession.

Republican officeholders, now that they are fighting for their political lives rather than basking in the tranquilizing rays of Eisenhower popularity, are no longer wary of using language and ideas which the White House might not like, especially on the divisive economic and farm issues.

This widening polarization between the liberal and conservative Republicans has produced a critical period in the career of the man who has been the most prominent political go-between for the party’s two wings–Richard M. Nixon.

As heir-apparent to the Republican presidential nomination in 1960, Nixon has based his strength on the confidence placed in him by Eisenhower. Republican conservatives who even three years ago saw Nixon as their advocate in the White House are now forced to recognize his loyalty to the “modern Republican” line emanating from Pennsylvania Avenue.

Yet Nixon has never been known for taking strong stands on intra-party issues, and there are those who suspect that the Vice-President has molded his political views to the tastes of the faction dominating party caucuses. So far Nixon has been able to avoid a decisive break with the Old Guard, but if the party split widens during the heat of the fall campaign, as it already shows signs of doing, he may be forced to commit himself definitely to one side or the other.

Nixon will need acute political judgment to sense the strength of the conservative resurgence. It is conceivable that the Administration’s loss of national popularity, coupled with out-spoken campaign tactics by its Republican critics, will throw the balance of power to the Old Guard at the 1960 convention. Though this possibility seems remote at present, too close an identification with a waning political force such as Eisenhower could hurt Nixon’s presidential chances. On the other hand, a premature commitment to the Old Guard might cut off Nixon’s favored position in the executive, which, through assignment to foreign good-will and inspection missions, has won him valuable national publicity.

Nixon’s dilemma is particularly acute in deciding what role to play in this fall’s campaign. Party functionaries admit the Republicans will be faced with a strong opposition offensive; politically the situation calls for a vigorous counter-attack. Signs of this were seen in the “kick-off” speeches by presidential Assistant Sherman Adams and Senator Barry Goldwater last month which lambasted the Democrats in a tone not heard since 1954.

In 1954 Nixon led the Republican campaign forces in a rousing and sometimes vicious spirit. This year, when the party is in an even worse way, the heir-apparent will probably be expected to pitch in just as actively. If Nixon does engage in a vigorous and partisan campaign, however, he risks demolishing the glittering image of a mature and moderate statesman which he has built up over the past four years. He has gone a long way towards living down an unfavorable national reputation, but democratic cartoonists love to portray Nixon throwing mud-pies, and any indication of “low-road” politicking on his part will send them gleefully back to the drawing boards.

If he refrains from active campaigning, however, many will accuse him of shirking responsibility and may tend to mistrust him in the hard 1960 fight.

Another factor impels Nixon to take on a heavy load of campaign duties. As Vice-President, he has no direct control or influence over state party organizations. Such control is very important in any national political convention, as Senator Knowland, currently the strongest threat to Nixon’s presidential hopes, has realized by running for the California governorship this fall. The most important method by which Nixon can build up personal obligations and loyalty among Republican state committees is to accept numerous campaign speaking dates in the various states. But a heavy speech schedule lures him into the dangers of partisanship and charges of dirty politics to which Nixon is vulnerable.

Nineteen fifty-eight presents Richard Nixon with a bevy of choices that have to be made and risks that have to be taken. He still sits at the head of the class because he’s teacher’s pet, but he’s beginning to wonder what will happen when teacher leaves the classroom.