Remembering who "they first came for"

I see that Andrew Napolitano, a Fox News analyst referenced the infamous Martin Niemöller "first they came" statement regarding the TSA. Glenn Beck, in one of his daily rants against the dangers of progressive radicals, has also cited it. In these cases the quote has been trotted out to warn about the dangers of big government and progressivism. Slippery-slope arguments are perfectly fine political rhetoric, however, the constant analogizing of U.S. liberals to the Nazis, merits context about this quotation.

First, to the man who said it: Martin Niemöller. A conservative Lutheran minister who initially supported Hitler's rise to power, Niemöller increasingly saw the Nazi regime as a danger that needed to be confronted. He began to speak out openly against the regime, and for that he was imprisoned in concentration camps from 1937 to 1945. His elegant words about the dangers of staying silent as different groups are targeted for persecution have become a profound and universal admonition.

That said, the quote is often misstated as referring only to Jews. Professor Harold Marcuse at UC-Santa Barbara, whose expertise is in modern German history, has a very comprehensive website about the quotation and Niemöller. Based on that, I have placed below the most accurate version of it (emphasis added):

"First they came for the Communists, but I was not a Communist so I did not speak out.
Then they came for the Socialists and the Trade Unionists, but I was neither, so I did not speak out.
Then they came for the Jews, but I was not a Jew so I did not speak out. And when they came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me."

Yes, the people who they "first came for" were, in fact, Communists, socialists, and trade unionists. The reasons are fairly straightforward: the German left, particularly the more moderate (but still quite progressive) Social Democrats, were Hitler's chief opponents. On a practical level, they represented alternative sources of political power that Hitler needed to eliminate to assert complete control.

Ideologically, the situation is somewhat more complicated. Fascism is a frankly weird ideology, melding some left-wing ideas (a disdain for capitalism) with other views more associated with the political right (hyper-nationalism and militarism).* I hesitate to call Hitler "right-wing," but it is definitively the case that most everyone who identified as "left" in Germany opposed the Nazis.

Of course, Beck and his fellow travelers cannot be bothered with such details. Speaking of Beck however, remind me again, who gives regular speeches denouncing socialism and social democracy and insisting they must be combated vigorously? And who sees unions as a malignant force in our society? Well, let's see, Glenn Beck and . . . Adolf Hitler! Why, could it be, that Glenn Beck is a Nazi sympathizer?

Actually, no. Just because he opposes some of the ideologies that fought Nazism does not make him a Nazi. There were conservatives (like Niemöller) who stood up against the Nazis too. But sadly, such historical complexities apparently do not fit into sarcastic, ill-informed rants made in front of a chalkboard.

*Hopefully this image gives a sense of how difficult placing the Nazis on the conventional ideological spectrum is. This is a Nazi election poster from 1932, portraying Social Democrats and capitalists as part of the same evil; it states (paradoxically) that "Marxism is the patron saint of Capitalism."

A Very Hayekian Thanksgiving?

This past Sunday’s New York Times points to yet another battlefield in the war of historical interpretation that is one of many fronts in our current ideological conflict. This time, it is the stories of the initial failures and later successes of the Jamestown and Plymouth colonies that serve as convenient fables proving the universal superiority of the pure free market. Specifically, conservatives attribute these colonies’ initial hardships to the fact that “the first settlers were actually early socialists. They realized the error of their collectivist ways and embraced capitalism, producing a bumper year, upon which they decided that it was only right to celebrate the glory of the free market and private property.”

What this example demonstrates is that any historical episode can be employed to “prove” a political perspective’s assertions, as long as the analysis is kept generalized. Such as by claiming that Jamestown and Plymouth actually are evidence that markets lead to disaster and only heavy state intervention provides stability and growth. Observe.

In the case of Jamestown, a strong argument can be made that the obsession with profits over other community needs characterizing the colony's early years (as well as a conservative view on how capitalism best functions) caused many of the colony’s troubles. In its first decades, Jamestown was run by the seventeenth century version of a multinational corporation, the Virginia Company. As historian Karen Kupperman (who is interviewed in the article) describes, the drive for profit pushed by the company meant that “much attention was diverted from building essential infrastructure to the continuing effort to find those indispensable ‘marchantable commodities.’” To take one concrete example, the initial colonists sent by the Virginia Company included numerous individuals expert in mining and metallurgy, but fewer who knew about agriculture.

In fact, the private management of Jamestown proved so problematic that in 1624 the colony underwent a seventeenth century version of nationalization, becoming a royal colony administered directly by the crown. This change happened after a government investigation uncovered evidence of severe mismanagement by the Virginia Company, even as its directors collected scandalously large salaries. Jamestown's transformation to a royal colony had beneficial results; in its aftermath began a “great period of varied production” that included everything from brewing to gun making (oh Virginia).

So Jamestown proves the universal superiority of state-run institutions over private, profit-seeking ones? Hardly. There are of course state-run institutions that run with great efficiency. There are also private businesses that run competently. The crises of Jamestown's early years had as much to do with disease and bad weather as it did with how English colonists organized themselves economically. And while I cannot speak to the details, I would expect that studying a seventeenth-century royal colony can tell you as much about modern day state-run enterprises as studying radical Republicans circa 1866 can tell you about radical Republicans today (ie., a little, but not much).

How about Plymouth? The Times article notes the central thesis for conservatives lies with the changes in land distribution. Initially, Plymouth’s farm lands were communal (which proved disastrous) and then they were divided into individual plots (which proved successful). Not being an expert on this, it sounds plausible; collective agriculture has certainly seen its historical disasters, and a lot depends on the dynamics of the community. The article quotes scholars who note (as could be expected) a number of other factors were at play (such as the Pilgrims becoming better farmers with time). Furthermore, what the conservative account ignores is that, while the Pilgrims may have given up on communal ownership, they maintained policies around land to promote general social welfare. Looking over the right-wing “Great Thanksgiving Hoax” site, one is hard pressed to find the portion of Plymouth governor William Bradford’s decree on creating individual land ownership that also required farmers to set aside some of their food for those who needed it; “a portion for public fishermen &c. who could not work” to quote directly. Apparently even privatization could not kill welfare socialism.

As always, the take-away message is that simplified history does a disservice not only to understanding the past, but also for interpreting the present and building for the future.

The 1830s Cartoon That Explains Today's Tea Party

Sometimes a historical document comes along which seems to reach across the centuries and achieve an almost timeless resonance. While doing research on the English anti-slavery movement I came across such an item in the form of an early 1830s political cartoon satirizing the English anti-slavery movement. What is striking is how, in one image, it encapsulates the complexities of a strain of conservative populism that has been an important force in U.S. and global politics (albeit in dramatically different ways) for a long, long time.

First, here is the cartoon in question (clicking on the link you can go to a page that allows for zooming in closer on the image):

Before going into detail, a few more words about the idea of "conservative populism." As Michael Kazin, one of the leading scholar of the topic, explains in his book The Populist Persuasion, conservative populism premises itself on the defense of the great "middle" of American society. These are the people and families who "paid America's taxes, fought its wars, and upheld the ideal of economic independence." While not by definition white, throughout U.S. history and to this day, that middle has, sometimes more expressly than others, been defined as white Americans.

The spark for initiating populist uprisings comes when the middle is threatened by forces of insecurity, whether they be direct material challenges to the "middle" economically and politically or focus more on abstract notions of identity (social, racial, political, etc). What distinguishes right-wing populism lies in its emphasis on threats from both "above" and "below." Progressive and left-wing populism focuses overwhelmingly on dangers from above, particularly emanating from the business classes. As Kazin describes, conservative populism sees both threats from "above," consisting of "a tiny elite that lived off the labor of others," along with a related danger from below, made up of "a larger group whose poverty seemed perpetual and whose behavior appeared servile, undisciplined, and childlike."

All of these themes are expressed in this one image. On the left side we find a hard-working, white middle or working class English family, crushed by taxation and debt. The man's attentive wife laments their situation, questioning "What [probably meaning "why] must an industrious and honest man starve in a country like this?" Meanwhile, the man decries his situation, bemoaning the fact that his plight (and of those like him) does not receive the same care and attention from elites as does that of the slaves. He notes that people like himself can get no help, "unless I draw a cart harnessed like a beast and get fed by the Parish." Meanwhile, the obviously affluent abolitionist chides the white workers for not recognizing how well off they are, and for not caring more deeply about the plight of the slaves. Finally, to the right, a group of slaves merrily dance in the background and those foreground seem both slothful and by no means in dire straits (they are well-fed and clothed for example)

Anything seem familiar? It is all here: the snide, wealthy liberal elites who care more about the undeserving (and racially different) than they do about the dignified common (read: white) middle and working classes. The beset upon, earnest white working-class family struggling to be independent and productive. And finally, in the image of the "happy slaves," the racialized "other" who represent social inferiors, yet who still receive all of elite society's sympathy and assistance.

All of this I believe is present in the current conservative movement. Besides the obvious racism of some elements of the Tea Party, for much of the movement there seems to exist an undercurrent of resentment not totally unlike the cartoon above. This feeling, for example, helps explain how so many Tea Party activists can sincerely proclaim the need to roll back government (even to pre-New Deal days), while seeing no problem with big government programs like Medicare and Social Security. The problem is not the existence of such programs, but the fact that to the Tea Party, the liberal elites care more about helping those who do not contribute to society than looking out for the interests of the majority. Take this exchange from Matt Taibbi with several Tea Party activists (bolded text is my emphasis):

"I'm anti-spending and anti-government," crows David, as scooter-bound Janice looks on. "The welfare state is out of control."

"OK," I say. "And what do you do for a living?"

"Me?" he says proudly. "Oh, I'm a property appraiser. Have been my whole life."

I frown. "Are either of you on Medicare?"

Silence: Then Janice, a nice enough woman, it seems, slowly raises her hand, offering a faint smile, as if to say, You got me!

"Let me get this straight," I say to David. "You've been picking up a check from the government for decades, as a tax assessor, and your wife is on Medicare. How can you complain about the welfare state?"

"Well," he says, "there's a lot of people on welfare who don't deserve it. Too many people are living off the government."

"But," I protest, "you live off the government. And have been your whole life!"

"Yeah," he says, "but I don't make very much."

It is essentially the same message as the cartoon: I deserve assistance because I am a model citizen, yet the elites who spend our taxes and have the power in society spend all their time helping the undeserving "other."

How do we deal with this? In future posts I hope to talk more about these racial dimensions. I should note that this comparison is not supposed to dip into territory somehow suggesting the Tea Party is pro-slavery. Nor do I think most of the movement is racist, not in the way most people still think about that term. Having a more honest dialogue about racism could be a small part of the solution. Then there is the issue of making a populism which unites people more than it divides them. That my friends, represents the ultimate question (and thus one I will try to pick at in some small way, another time).

Anti-slavery Electioneering

With all the talk about special interest group politics (damn that "Professional Left"!) it's worth pointing out that "special interests" have also contributed to some of the brighter moments in human history and that the dirty work of politics can achieve real accomplishments.

Take the poster below. As quick context: In 1832, after almost fifty years of campaigning the English anti-slavery movement was on the cusp of achieving the emancipation of all slaves in the English empire. While suffrage was very constricted in England, some people could vote, and professional anti-slavery organizations and citizen committees worked to elect pro-abolition candidates and punish those whose who stood in their way. This campaign also built on momentum caused by the so-called "Baptist War," a slave revolt in Jamaica which is widely seen as hastening emancipation by only further revealing the utter brutality of the slave owners and the instability of the slave system in the British Caribbean. Slavery would end in the empire two years later with the passage of the Slavery Abolition Act of 1833 (a bill that was in many ways deeply flawed, but still a major step forward for human freedom).

The Battle to Claim the Founders, Part 105896

Ron Chernow's piece in the New York Times today about the relationship (or lack thereof) between the Tea Party's views and the thought of the founders is well worth reading. The sections detailing debate over different interpretations of the Constitution are really fascinating (I did not realize just how quickly arguments over how "strict construction" emerged!) That said, Chernow's piece contains some slightly puzzling assertions. Most problematically, he writes as if clear lines of lineage exist from the two original political parties in the U.S., the Federalists and Republicans, to our modern day political ideas and parties. For example, here is Chernow on Jefferson and the Tea Party:

Jefferson and his Republicans (not related to today’s Republicans) advocated states’ rights, a weak federal government and strict construction of the Constitution. The Tea Party can claim legitimate descent from Jefferson and Madison, even though they founded what became the Democratic Party.

This is unfortunately what happens when you take general philosophical ideals expressed in the past and wrench them out of their specific social, economic, and political context. It is true that Jefferson and Madison believed in concepts such as "weak federal government." The critical political experience in their lives up to the point of the revolution had been dealing with an authoritarian British government which clamped down severely on independent governance. Yet, that does not necessarily translate into saying that Jefferson's reasons for advocating small government bear no difference that those espoused by the Tea Party. As I wrote about in a previous entry, Jeffersonian opposition to large government had much to do with the fear that a strong federal state would employ its power to maintain and expand the power of wealthy interests (including private businesses), at the expense of independent farmers and working people. Not exactly the philosophical underpinnings of modern conservatism in the United States.

Furthermore, Chernow seems to imply that Washington and Hamilton represent the fore-bearers of American liberalism; after all they "espoused a strong federal government, led by a powerful executive branch, and endorsed a liberal reading of the Constitution." Yet, such a reading seems to fall into the trap that if conservatives are for "small government" philosophically, then liberals must be for "big government." Hamilton's desire for big government came in large part out of a desire to create a strong, imperial state and to promote the development of large enterprises and businesses. While progressives do not categorically oppose such concepts, philosophically they see a strong state as a tool to help the marginalized in society and provide a check on powerful private influences. Try pairing that with a key Hamilton statement on his vision for the new government and society:

"All communities divide themselves into the few and the many. The first are the rich and well born, the other the mass of the people . . . The people are turbulent and changing; they seldom judge or determine right. Give therefore to the first class a distinct, permanent share in the government. They will check the unsteadiness of the second, as they cannot receive any advantage by change, they therefore will ever maintain good government."

Chernow's piece and any similar ones are incredibly welcome to creating a more historically accurate and complex political dialogue. What I would merely propose is that when we talk about the founders in today's politics, let's render them (to a realistic extent), the complexities of their views. One can find relevant political ideas not only from the "founding fathers," but from the slaves, working men, women activists, and so many others who forged the nation. But we should not pretend that any of us are their direct and unique descendants.

At least no one has suggested this yet...

Important elements in the conservative movement and Republican Party have not exactly shown the greatest compassion for the unemployed during our current Great Recession. Much of the rhetoric has focused on implying that the unemployed are "lazy" or just not looking hard enough for jobs. Such rhetoric has a long history, but fortunately today's conservatives have steered clear of some of the extreme demands made in the past to further immiserate the unemployed. This was not the case during the Great Depression.

In 1934 a conservative business organization, the New York State Economic Council, put forward a stunning proposal. The organization had been formed as an anti-New Deal coalition headed by former Attorney General (under President Taft), George Wickersham. As historian Alexander Keyssar describes the NYSEC, it was an "influential voice urging lower taxes and reduced government expenditures to promote business recovery; it also opposed 'compulsory' unemployment insurance, denounced the American Federation of Labor as 'un-American,' and recommended the passage of laws outlawing general and sympathetic strikes."

Sounds a bit familiar, yes? However, the NYSEC's fears about government expansion moved beyond economic policies to focus on the electoral effects of the New Deal. Namely, the NYSEC saw government relief programs as potentially creating millions of dependent individuals, who would mindlessly vote for Democrats in order to get government monies. Thus, among the policy proposals they advocated included the "withholding from all persons receiving public unemployment relief the right of suffrage during the period in which such relief is being received." Officials with the NYSEC, reflecting the kind of fears later used about welfare recipients (read: African-American welfare recipients) regarding dependence on government monies creating voters loyal to one political party over another.

Fortunately, the proposal went nowhere. And if anything, perhaps such examples can help moderates and progressives breath a sigh of relief: we've had nutty ideas in the body politic before, but so far (more or less), the republic seems to have survived.

Three Random Thoughts on D'Souza

Dinesh D'Souza's cover article for Forbes (lovingly seconded by Newt Gingrich, who, on behalf of all people who have or are working to get U.S. history PhDs, I apologize for), so overflows with shoddy arguments that there's not really time to delve into all of them. A number of great writers have already done the job of skewering D'Souza's faulty logic and I especially recommend Adam Serwer's brilliant post on how the piece fits into larger conservative arguments. That said, I have three fairly unconnected thoughts:

1) Not An Original Smear: The notion that a U.S. president bases his allegiance to some foreign ideology is by no means a new one. In fact, a long history exists of political opponents attempting to link their opponents to some foreign (and radical) ideology, thus discrediting them completely. One of the first victims of such attacks was Thomas Jefferson, who, particularly in his 1800 campaign, came under constant attack by Federalists claiming his allegiance lay with the French Revolution, not the American. One such controversy involved a 1796 letter Jefferson wrote to Philip Mazzei, in which he expressed concerns over the political path the fledgling nation had embarked under Federalist rule. The Federalist press rushed to imply that Jefferson had abandoned his loyalty to the U.S., with one key Federalist newspaper, the New York Minerva, printing excerpts of the letter and commenting that, "it seems hardly possible an American could be capable of writing such a letter." Ironically, Jefferson's letter to Philip Mazzei itself indulged in the same type of rhetoric, arguing that Federalist policies had created "in place of that noble love of liberty and republican government which carried us triumphantly thro' the war, an Anglican, monarchical and aristocratical party had sprung up, whose avowed object is to draw over us the substance as they have already done the forms of the British government." As one more example, some opponents of Abraham Lincoln viewed him as overly close with various European exiles in the U.S. who had been leaders in the famed 1848 revolutions in Europe, seeing their often strong abolitionist views as marking the entry of foreign notions into American politics.

2) Stop Pretending You Knew the Founders: In the piece D'Souza attempts to figure out "Obama's dream" and notes that "[it] is certainly not the American dream as conceived by the founders. They believed the nation was a 'new order for the ages.'" As I wrote about before, the claim that one's own opinions truly reflect those of the "founding fathers" remains one of the most persistent and frustrating memes in modern uses of historical example. The founding generation had a great diversity of opinion about the "American dream" and what American identity meant. Certainly, a Hamilton and a Jefferson didn't agree about what form the U.S. economy should take. And the slaves who fought for the pro-independence side most likely viewed themselves as "American," even if most of the founders did not. The same goes for women who lobbied for (and in New Jersey briefly won) suffrage and other rights, but were denied an equal place in U.S. society.

D'Souza also revives a conservative attack on Obama which accuses him of denying the existence of "American exceptionalism," calling into question his motivations for being president. Taking a look at the full Obama quote, this is at best a gross oversimplification. And it certainly does not mark a rejection of the founders. Obama's view of American exceptionalism is that there are a number of laudable and unique characteristics about U.S. culture and history. That said, Obama did not claim the U.S. to be empirically "better," rather noting that other nations have their own exceptional characteristics, and that together a better world can be built. Such sentiments clearly echo certain strains of thought and values from the revolutionary generation, especially those expressed in word and deed by Thomas Paine, who saw the U.S. as exceptional, but believed much of what was best about the U.S. could be spread abroad through an international struggle for liberty.

3. Read Some African History: D'Souza's term "Kenyan anti-colonialism" is rather amusing in its ignorance of African history (and I'm no expert). I get that he's using this as short-hand to refer to the larger, post-colonial move by many African and Asian nations, reflected in the 1970s push for a New International Economic Order, which challenged global economic structures with a far-reaching program of reform. However, Kenya was never a major participant in those movements and its development strategy in the late 1960s and onwards focused on inviting in foreign investment, not internal, state-led development. You know, the kind of policies D'Souza favors.