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Historical PerspectivesJournal of History

2013

Published bySanta Clara University Lambda Upsilon Chapter

of Phi Alpha Theta

Editorial BoardDominic Rios

Jessica Talavera-Rauh

Faculty AdvisorsFather Paul Mariani, S.J.Professor David Skinner

Volume XVIII of Historical Perspectives is the twenty-third journal published by Santa Clara University'sLambda Upsilon chapter of Phi Alpha Theta. Thisedition continues the tradition of providing its readerswith articles that reflect the caliber of studentscholarship at Santa Clara.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Dedication and Acknowledgments

Articles

“As Worthless as an Eldest Son Could Be”: TheDecline of the Virginian Gentry in theRevolutionary EraCelina Mogan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

“Comrades for a Common Cause”: Jewish Women,Social Clubs, and Public Health Reform in theProgressive EraJessica Talavera-Rauh.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28

“Need for Alarm”: The San Francisco Call and theChronicle Cover the 1900-1904 Bubonic PlagueGuy Marzorati. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55

Environmental Disaster in JapanKathryn Karasek. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84

1

et al.: Historical Perspectives Vol. 18 2013

Published by Scholar Commons, 2013

Historical PerspectivesJournal of History

2013

Published bySanta Clara University Lambda Upsilon Chapter

of Phi Alpha Theta

Editorial BoardDominic Rios


Faculty AdvisorsFather Paul Mariani, S.J.Professor David Skinner

Volume XVIII of Historical Perspectives is the twenty-third journal published by Santa Clara University'sLambda Upsilon chapter of Phi Alpha Theta. Thisedition continues the tradition of providing its readerswith articles that reflect the caliber of studentscholarship at Santa Clara.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Dedication and Acknowledgments

Articles

“As Worthless as an Eldest Son Could Be”: TheDecline of the Virginian Gentry in theRevolutionary EraCelina Mogan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

“Comrades for a Common Cause”: Jewish Women,Social Clubs, and Public Health Reform in theProgressive EraJessica Talavera-Rauh.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28

“Need for Alarm”: The San Francisco Call and theChronicle Cover the 1900-1904 Bubonic PlagueGuy Marzorati. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55

Environmental Disaster in JapanKathryn Karasek. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84

2

Historical Perspectives: Santa Clara University Undergraduate Journal of History, Series II, Vol. 18 [2013], Art. 1

http://scholarcommons.scu.edu/historical-perspectives/vol18/iss1/1

“These Navies and Armies and Kings and Things”: Anglo American Cooperation in Anti-SubmarineWarfare in World War ISean Naumes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104

Facial Disfigurement in Post World War I Britain: Representation, Politics and Masculinity, 1918-1922Jacob Benjamin Newton. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139

A Hyphenated Campaign: Prejudice and Identityin the Experiences of Italian Americas Serving inItaly during World War IIDominic Rios.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165

Retaining the Crown in the Face of Refugee Crises: King Abdullah IIKevin Laymoun. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195

Introduction

Each year, Santa Clara University’s LambdaUpsilon chapter of Phi Alpha Theta publishes theHistorical Perspectives journal. This journal, comprisedcompletely of student scholarship, represents thegreatest achievements from the History Department.This year, we are once again extremely fortunate tohave received an outstanding selection of originalresearch. We thank all those students who submittedtheir work for review and are excited to present thisyear’s volume of Historical Perspectives.

The eight papers selected represent not only thehigh-quality of student research and writing, but alsoepitomize the department’s emphasis on geographicand chronological diversity. In her essay, Celina Mogananalyzes the decline of the Virginia gentry class at theend of America’s colonial period. Jessica Talavera-Rauh’s “‘Comrades for a Common Cause’” focuses onthe public health reform movement of the ProgressiveEra from the often ignored viewpoint of Jewish womenreformers. Next, Guy Marzorati’s essay highlights theways in which big-business and politics impactedmedia coverage of San Francisco’s Bubonic Plaguecrisis during the beginning of the twentieth century.Focusing on similar themes of public health, KatherineKarasek examines the haphazard government reactionthat has accompanied various environmental disastersthroughout Japan’s history. Switching over to militaryhistory, we next come to Sean Naumes and his piecedetailing the development of Anglo-Americancooperation in anti-submarine warfare during WorldWar I. Jacob Newton’s “Facial Disfigurement” describesthe struggle many British soldiers faced reintegratingto society after injury. Next, in “A HyphenatedCampaign”, Dominic Rios examines the interplays of

3



“These Navies and Armies and Kings and Things”: Anglo American Cooperation in Anti-SubmarineWarfare in World War ISean Naumes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104

Facial Disfigurement in Post World War I Britain: Representation, Politics and Masculinity, 1918-1922Jacob Benjamin Newton. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139

A Hyphenated Campaign: Prejudice and Identityin the Experiences of Italian Americas Serving inItaly during World War IIDominic Rios.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165

Retaining the Crown in the Face of Refugee Crises: King Abdullah IIKevin Laymoun. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195

Introduction

Each year, Santa Clara University’s LambdaUpsilon chapter of Phi Alpha Theta publishes theHistorical Perspectives journal. This journal, comprisedcompletely of student scholarship, represents thegreatest achievements from the History Department.This year, we are once again extremely fortunate tohave received an outstanding selection of originalresearch. We thank all those students who submittedtheir work for review and are excited to present thisyear’s volume of Historical Perspectives.

The eight papers selected represent not only thehigh-quality of student research and writing, but alsoepitomize the department’s emphasis on geographicand chronological diversity. In her essay, Celina Mogananalyzes the decline of the Virginia gentry class at theend of America’s colonial period. Jessica Talavera-Rauh’s “‘Comrades for a Common Cause’” focuses onthe public health reform movement of the ProgressiveEra from the often ignored viewpoint of Jewish womenreformers. Next, Guy Marzorati’s essay highlights theways in which big-business and politics impactedmedia coverage of San Francisco’s Bubonic Plaguecrisis during the beginning of the twentieth century.Focusing on similar themes of public health, KatherineKarasek examines the haphazard government reactionthat has accompanied various environmental disastersthroughout Japan’s history. Switching over to militaryhistory, we next come to Sean Naumes and his piecedetailing the development of Anglo-Americancooperation in anti-submarine warfare during WorldWar I. Jacob Newton’s “Facial Disfigurement” describesthe struggle many British soldiers faced reintegratingto society after injury. Next, in “A HyphenatedCampaign”, Dominic Rios examines the interplays of

4



racial identity in the experiences of Italian Americansserving in the Italian Campaign during the SecondWorld War. Finally, Kevin Laymoun’s piece details themotivations behind King Abdullah II’s treatment ofPalestinian and Syrian refugees in Jordan.

Again, we want to congratulate these studentsfor achieving such a high standard of academicscholarship. Additionally, we want to thank FatherPaul Mariani, Professor David Skinner, and JudyGillette, for their oversight on this project. Finally, wethank all the faculty and students who contributed tothe History Department this year. We are extremelyhonored to serve on this year’s editorial board andhope you enjoy this year’s edition of HistoricalPerspectives. Thank you.

Dominic RiosJessica Talavera-Rauh

Student Editors

5



racial identity in the experiences of Italian Americansserving in the Italian Campaign during the SecondWorld War. Finally, Kevin Laymoun’s piece details themotivations behind King Abdullah II’s treatment ofPalestinian and Syrian refugees in Jordan.

Again, we want to congratulate these studentsfor achieving such a high standard of academicscholarship. Additionally, we want to thank FatherPaul Mariani, Professor David Skinner, and JudyGillette, for their oversight on this project. Finally, wethank all the faculty and students who contributed tothe History Department this year. We are extremelyhonored to serve on this year’s editorial board andhope you enjoy this year’s edition of HistoricalPerspectives. Thank you.


Student Editors

6



Dedication

We dedicate this issue to the outgoing FacultyAdvisor of Santa Clara University’s LambdaUpsilon chapter of Phi Alpha Theta, FabioLópez Lázaro, and welcome incoming facultyadvisor, Harry Odamtten.

Acknowledgments

We would like to thank the HistoricalPerspectives Faculty Advisors, Paul Mariani,S.J., and David Skinner, History Departmentoffice manager Judy Gillette, and all of thefaculty whose mentoring and guidance helpedproduce the student papers within.


Student Editors

The History Department expresses its gratituteto John and Lulu McPhee, whose generousgift has provided the financial support for thepublication of this journal.

7



Dedication

We dedicate this issue to the outgoing FacultyAdvisor of Santa Clara University’s LambdaUpsilon chapter of Phi Alpha Theta, FabioLópez Lázaro, and welcome incoming facultyadvisor, Harry Odamtten.

Acknowledgments

We would like to thank the HistoricalPerspectives Faculty Advisors, Paul Mariani,S.J., and David Skinner, History Departmentoffice manager Judy Gillette, and all of thefaculty whose mentoring and guidance helpedproduce the student papers within.


Student Editors

The History Department expresses its gratituteto John and Lulu McPhee, whose generousgift has provided the financial support for thepublication of this journal.

8



“As Worthless as an Eldest Son Could Be” 1

“As Worthless as an Eldest Son CouldBe”: The Decline of the Virginian Gentryin the Revolutionary Era

Celina Mogan

The study of the gentry class of colonial Virginiaprovides scholars with much amusement andconfusion. The members of the few families whodominated the political, economic, and social cultureof the colony of Virginia lived an exciting life.1 As theyfarmed tobacco and managed slaves on their grandplantations, they also served in the colonialgovernment protecting their accustomed lifestyle. Theiridentity as both planters and public servants definedthe group. Deference was the unwritten law of colonialVirginia society, where the lower classes looked up tothe gentry as the ideal. The families were proud oftheir familial history in Virginia, many tracing theirancestors back to the early seventeenth-centuryplantations. As they wore the fashions of Europe,conducted the rituals of tea, and practiced the cultureof the landed elite of England, the gentry understoodthemselves as equals with and deserving the samerights as their English counterparts across theAtlantic.2 “Taking the English gentry as their model,they tried, insofar as colonial conditions would allow,to follow the ways of the country gentlemen of the

1 Emory Evans, A Topping People: The Rise and Decline ofVirginia’s Old Political Elite, 1680-1790 (Charlottesville, VA:University of Virginia Press, 2009). 2 Evans, “A Topping People,” 170-1.

2 Historical Perspectives June 2013

homeland.”3 This placed the Virginia gentry in anawkward situation on the eve of the AmericanRevolution. They were required to redefine themselvesand their place within a society no longer tightlybound to England.

The second generation of gentry patriarchs hadestablished a successful system that did not fail them.The young gentry inheriting this lifestyle believed theywere coming into all the power and prestige in Virginia,blind to the reality that their class was not invincible. They inherited political authority, slaves, thousands ofacres in the best areas of Virginia. They had all thepower and money of which they could have dreamt.However, by the 1790s, the gentry had lost theirstanding in Virginian society in both the economic andpolitical realms.4 The men were losing their covetedspots in political leadership; for example, the firstgovernor of Virginia after independence was not amember of the gentry.5 Additionally, the men foundthemselves deeply in debt, unable to pay back theircreditors, but still making purchases on the lateststyles and trends to maintain their gentility. By the1790s, the gentry found their affluent lifestyle to bedisappearing. How could this prestige melt away insuch a short time? Had their fathers and grandfathersfailed them, or had they failed themselves?

Much has been written about the colony of Virginia

3 H.D. Farish, ed., Journal and Letters of Philip VickersFithian, 1773-1774: A Plantation Tutor of the Old Dominion,(Williamsburg, VA: Colonial Williamsburg, Inc., 1965), xvi. 4 Evans, “A Topping People,” 10. 5 Warren M. Billings, John E. Selby, and Thad W. Tate.Colonial Virginia: A History. (White Plains, NY: KTO Press, 1986)356.

9




“As Worthless as an Eldest Son CouldBe”: The Decline of the Virginian Gentryin the Revolutionary Era

Celina Mogan

The study of the gentry class of colonial Virginiaprovides scholars with much amusement andconfusion. The members of the few families whodominated the political, economic, and social cultureof the colony of Virginia lived an exciting life.1 As theyfarmed tobacco and managed slaves on their grandplantations, they also served in the colonialgovernment protecting their accustomed lifestyle. Theiridentity as both planters and public servants definedthe group. Deference was the unwritten law of colonialVirginia society, where the lower classes looked up tothe gentry as the ideal. The families were proud oftheir familial history in Virginia, many tracing theirancestors back to the early seventeenth-centuryplantations. As they wore the fashions of Europe,conducted the rituals of tea, and practiced the cultureof the landed elite of England, the gentry understoodthemselves as equals with and deserving the samerights as their English counterparts across theAtlantic.2 “Taking the English gentry as their model,they tried, insofar as colonial conditions would allow,to follow the ways of the country gentlemen of the

1 Emory Evans, A Topping People: The Rise and Decline ofVirginia’s Old Political Elite, 1680-1790 (Charlottesville, VA:University of Virginia Press, 2009). 2 Evans, “A Topping People,” 170-1.


homeland.”3 This placed the Virginia gentry in anawkward situation on the eve of the AmericanRevolution. They were required to redefine themselvesand their place within a society no longer tightlybound to England.

The second generation of gentry patriarchs hadestablished a successful system that did not fail them.The young gentry inheriting this lifestyle believed theywere coming into all the power and prestige in Virginia,blind to the reality that their class was not invincible. They inherited political authority, slaves, thousands ofacres in the best areas of Virginia. They had all thepower and money of which they could have dreamt.However, by the 1790s, the gentry had lost theirstanding in Virginian society in both the economic andpolitical realms.4 The men were losing their covetedspots in political leadership; for example, the firstgovernor of Virginia after independence was not amember of the gentry.5 Additionally, the men foundthemselves deeply in debt, unable to pay back theircreditors, but still making purchases on the lateststyles and trends to maintain their gentility. By the1790s, the gentry found their affluent lifestyle to bedisappearing. How could this prestige melt away insuch a short time? Had their fathers and grandfathersfailed them, or had they failed themselves?

Much has been written about the colony of Virginia

3 H.D. Farish, ed., Journal and Letters of Philip VickersFithian, 1773-1774: A Plantation Tutor of the Old Dominion,(Williamsburg, VA: Colonial Williamsburg, Inc., 1965), xvi. 4 Evans, “A Topping People,” 10. 5 Warren M. Billings, John E. Selby, and Thad W. Tate.Colonial Virginia: A History. (White Plains, NY: KTO Press, 1986)356.

10




both during the colonial years and during theRevolution, including works that discuss the gentryclass within Virginian society as well as texts aboutspecific gentry families. The texts that specificallydiscuss the decline of the Virginian gentry or even justthe gentry class are few, however, as many take on theRevolution as a whole or choose to focus on a themesuch as race or gender.

One of the most reputable historians of colonialVirginia is Rhys Isaac. His work, The Transformation ofVirginia, 1740-1790, is often cited and considered agreat source on Revolutionary Virginia.6 Although notcompletely focused on the gentry, this work covers awide variety of factors that could affect the gentry’sdownfall. The time period Isaac covers is pre-Revolutionary, so he provides an incredible amount ofcontext for the Revolution and the world of the secondand third gentry generations. His scope is so broadand covers so many aspects of Virginian life that itfails, however, to dig deeply into any one topic.

Emory Evans provides the most comprehensivestudy of the Virginian gentry families in his work, A“Topping People”: The Rise and Decline of Virginia’s OldPolitical Elite, 1680-1790.7 Complete with statistics andnumerical data as well as narrative evidence, Evansdetails the rise and fall of twenty-one gentry families.8

His scope is both broad and detailed about everyaspect of Virginian life. He uses evidence from twenty-one gentry families with statistics and personal

6 Rhys Isaac, The Transformation of Virginia, 1740-1790,(Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1982). 7 Evans, A Topping People. 8 The family names Evans uses in his study and I will use inthis paper can be found in the table on page 2.


accounts. For continuity, this paper will use the sametwenty-one families as Evans.

The one major fault in Evans’ text is the inadequateattention he pays to the decline of the gentry class.9 Heplaces the discussion of the class’s decline in hisepilogue where he also provides a semi-detaileddescription of the Virginian experience leading up tothe Revolutionary War. Evans presents the reasons forthe gentry’s decline—although part of the book’stitle—as more of an afterthought than as a main focus.He chooses to narrate the experience of the Revolutionin Virginia while adding minimal details about thegentry class. Despite his focus on the rise and gloryyears of the gentry, Evans gives insufficient attentionto their decline.

This paper will attempt to explain why the thirdgeneration of Virginian gentry failed to succeed in theyears around the American Revolution. It will discussthe variety of factors for the gentry’s failure to succeedinto the nineteenth century. While some of the blamecan be placed on the unlucky political and economicclimates of their generation, most of their problemscan be attributed to their own shortcomings. Amongthese reasons are the indebtedness of the families, theloss of political power as the Revolution approached,and the families’ stubbornness to adapt to change. This paper will ultimately argue that the gentryexperience a self-induced decline which was caused inpart by their personal faults. Providing more evidenceof the decline than Evans, this study will critique andadd to the arguments he provides.

9 Emory Evans, “Epilogue,” A Topping People, 177-202.

11




both during the colonial years and during theRevolution, including works that discuss the gentryclass within Virginian society as well as texts aboutspecific gentry families. The texts that specificallydiscuss the decline of the Virginian gentry or even justthe gentry class are few, however, as many take on theRevolution as a whole or choose to focus on a themesuch as race or gender.

One of the most reputable historians of colonialVirginia is Rhys Isaac. His work, The Transformation ofVirginia, 1740-1790, is often cited and considered agreat source on Revolutionary Virginia.6 Although notcompletely focused on the gentry, this work covers awide variety of factors that could affect the gentry’sdownfall. The time period Isaac covers is pre-Revolutionary, so he provides an incredible amount ofcontext for the Revolution and the world of the secondand third gentry generations. His scope is so broadand covers so many aspects of Virginian life that itfails, however, to dig deeply into any one topic.

Emory Evans provides the most comprehensivestudy of the Virginian gentry families in his work, A“Topping People”: The Rise and Decline of Virginia’s OldPolitical Elite, 1680-1790.7 Complete with statistics andnumerical data as well as narrative evidence, Evansdetails the rise and fall of twenty-one gentry families.8

His scope is both broad and detailed about everyaspect of Virginian life. He uses evidence from twenty-one gentry families with statistics and personal

6 Rhys Isaac, The Transformation of Virginia, 1740-1790,(Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1982). 7 Evans, A Topping People. 8 The family names Evans uses in his study and I will use inthis paper can be found in the table on page 2.


accounts. For continuity, this paper will use the sametwenty-one families as Evans.

The one major fault in Evans’ text is the inadequateattention he pays to the decline of the gentry class.9 Heplaces the discussion of the class’s decline in hisepilogue where he also provides a semi-detaileddescription of the Virginian experience leading up tothe Revolutionary War. Evans presents the reasons forthe gentry’s decline—although part of the book’stitle—as more of an afterthought than as a main focus.He chooses to narrate the experience of the Revolutionin Virginia while adding minimal details about thegentry class. Despite his focus on the rise and gloryyears of the gentry, Evans gives insufficient attentionto their decline.

This paper will attempt to explain why the thirdgeneration of Virginian gentry failed to succeed in theyears around the American Revolution. It will discussthe variety of factors for the gentry’s failure to succeedinto the nineteenth century. While some of the blamecan be placed on the unlucky political and economicclimates of their generation, most of their problemscan be attributed to their own shortcomings. Amongthese reasons are the indebtedness of the families, theloss of political power as the Revolution approached,and the families’ stubbornness to adapt to change. This paper will ultimately argue that the gentryexperience a self-induced decline which was caused inpart by their personal faults. Providing more evidenceof the decline than Evans, this study will critique andadd to the arguments he provides.

9 Emory Evans, “Epilogue,” A Topping People, 177-202.

12




Indebtedness

The first and greatest failure of the gentry was theirindebtedness that accrued throughout three or morethe generations. Thomas Jefferson notes that “thesedebts had become hereditary from father to son formany generations, so that the planters were a speciesof property annexed to certain mercantile houses inLondon.”10 The third generation of Virginian gentry washaunted by the incredible debt they had inherited.While the men had grown up in a world of luxury, theycould not have been aware of the great debt for whichthey would soon be responsible. Data of the familyaccounts of around 1780 survives for only seventeenof the twenty-one families in this study, but even thisdata sample shows that these families had enormousdebt. Most gentry families’ debt averaged around£10,000 with a few owing more than £35,000.11 Thesesizeable debts did not lend themselves to easyrepayment—they were simply too great. How couldthings get so bad? The answer lies in the exceptionaleconomic landscape in which their fathers raised themand the failure of previous generations to plan for thefuture.

Gentry families were not new to Virginia in the mid-eighteenth century; they had grown up in the colony’sgenteel culture and were accustomed to itscomfortable lifestyle. Their fathers had establishedwell-run enterprises with their slaves and fields, but

10 As quoted in Lawrence H. Gipson, “Virginia Planter Debtsbefore the American Revolution,” The Virginia Magazine ofHistory and Biography, 69 (July 1961): 259. 11 Evans, A Topping People, 195-196. See chart on page 197.


they continued to look to western lands for increasedproperty and diversification of wealth. The secondgeneration of gentry had inherited a great blessingfrom their fathers but may have not inherited the samebusiness aptitude. “Not a few appear to have beenworse managers and businessmen than their fathersand grandfathers, or they simply were not willing todevote the necessary time to running complicatedagricultural enterprises.”12 Just because a man wasthe eldest son did not bestow upon him the ability torun an estate. Some were not skilled or intelligent,while others were simply uninterested in plantationlife. Their genteel life lent itself to recreationalpastimes such as gambling and horseracing, and somemen found their days more enjoyable when occupiedwith recreation rather than business. But even for themost learned and savvy of businessmen, the economicworld of tobacco was extremely complex. “Planters didnot often understand the details of the sale of theirtobacco.”13 This added another level of complication toan already shaky economic situation. Because theymarketed their products in the metropole, the colonialpatriarchs of gentry families were required to trust inmerchants of London, many of whom they may havenever met and who may not always have their colonialclients’ best interests in mind. The merchant was outto make money and would oftentimes return to theplanters less profits and lower quality goods than theyhad expected.14 The gentry, through the complex andflawed agricultural and commercial system, heavily

12 Evans, A Topping People, 112. 13 Ibid., 103. 14 Ibid., 102.

13




Indebtedness

The first and greatest failure of the gentry was theirindebtedness that accrued throughout three or morethe generations. Thomas Jefferson notes that “thesedebts had become hereditary from father to son formany generations, so that the planters were a speciesof property annexed to certain mercantile houses inLondon.”10 The third generation of Virginian gentry washaunted by the incredible debt they had inherited.While the men had grown up in a world of luxury, theycould not have been aware of the great debt for whichthey would soon be responsible. Data of the familyaccounts of around 1780 survives for only seventeenof the twenty-one families in this study, but even thisdata sample shows that these families had enormousdebt. Most gentry families’ debt averaged around£10,000 with a few owing more than £35,000.11 Thesesizeable debts did not lend themselves to easyrepayment—they were simply too great. How couldthings get so bad? The answer lies in the exceptionaleconomic landscape in which their fathers raised themand the failure of previous generations to plan for thefuture.

Gentry families were not new to Virginia in the mid-eighteenth century; they had grown up in the colony’sgenteel culture and were accustomed to itscomfortable lifestyle. Their fathers had establishedwell-run enterprises with their slaves and fields, but

10 As quoted in Lawrence H. Gipson, “Virginia Planter Debtsbefore the American Revolution,” The Virginia Magazine ofHistory and Biography, 69 (July 1961): 259. 11 Evans, A Topping People, 195-196. See chart on page 197.


they continued to look to western lands for increasedproperty and diversification of wealth. The secondgeneration of gentry had inherited a great blessingfrom their fathers but may have not inherited the samebusiness aptitude. “Not a few appear to have beenworse managers and businessmen than their fathersand grandfathers, or they simply were not willing todevote the necessary time to running complicatedagricultural enterprises.”12 Just because a man wasthe eldest son did not bestow upon him the ability torun an estate. Some were not skilled or intelligent,while others were simply uninterested in plantationlife. Their genteel life lent itself to recreationalpastimes such as gambling and horseracing, and somemen found their days more enjoyable when occupiedwith recreation rather than business. But even for themost learned and savvy of businessmen, the economicworld of tobacco was extremely complex. “Planters didnot often understand the details of the sale of theirtobacco.”13 This added another level of complication toan already shaky economic situation. Because theymarketed their products in the metropole, the colonialpatriarchs of gentry families were required to trust inmerchants of London, many of whom they may havenever met and who may not always have their colonialclients’ best interests in mind. The merchant was outto make money and would oftentimes return to theplanters less profits and lower quality goods than theyhad expected.14 The gentry, through the complex andflawed agricultural and commercial system, heavily

12 Evans, A Topping People, 112. 13 Ibid., 103. 14 Ibid., 102.

14




relied on others—merchants, slaves, and farmingexperts—for their economic success.

The system in place to sell tobacco and purchaseBritish goods was far from perfect. The way tobaccowas grown and sold had been evolving since theestablishment of the colony. Beginning in theeighteenth century, planters sent barrels of tobacco toBritish merchants. This was an unstable situation asplanters waited for the slow transportation of theirproduct across the Atlantic, the sale in London, andthe slow repatriation of their profits. They hoped andtrusted that their British merchant would providethem with the best possible price on their tobacco.However, Virginians were oftentimes disappointed intheir merchants.15 Many felt they were being cheated.John Custis IV complained of his poor prices on histobacco and was “startled to see such a crop of tobaccogiven away.”16 Gentry clients blamed their merchantsfor their problems. As Landon Carter wrote in hisdiary, “for by profession a broker is a villain in the veryengagements he enters into. He must buy and mustsell as cheap and as dear as he can.”17 Despite the lowprofits returning on their tobacco crops, the gentrysurprisingly did not fear increasing their spending.Many never knew how much their tobacco earned astheir profits were used in London on luxury goodswithout ever being repatriated to Virginia.18

Although the gentry planters often blamed their

15 Ibid., 117 16 Ibid., 102 17 Rhys Isaac, Landon Carter’s Uneasy Kingdom: Revolutionand Rebellion on a Virginia Plantation¸ (New York: OxfordUniversity Press, 2004), 255. 18 Evans, A Topping People, 102.


merchants for their apparently small profits, the faultcannot be solely placed on the dishonesty ofmerchants for the economic problems of the gentry.The gentry were spending far more money than theircrops earned. An English visitor in the early 1770scommented that the problem was not that “theirhusbandry is not profitable,” but with “the generalluxury and extravagant living which obtains among”the gentry.19 The gentry had a lifestyle they werepressured to maintain which included excessivespending. Robert ‘King’ Carter put it best when hewrote, “too many among us, when a good market offersfor their tobacco, will lay it out in stores and leavetheir old debts unpaid.”20 Throughout the eighteenthcentury Virginia became more established as a colony,and gentry families increasingly spent their earning onluxury goods. “Indebtedness to British merchantsgrew as Virginian society expanded and became morestable.”21 A consumer revolution made buyingmanufactured goods affordable to a larger segment ofthe population.22 “In the 1760s the importation ofthese articles [luxury goods] increased 75 percent overthat of the 1750s.”23 The culture of buying was shiftingas “manufactured goods inundated the households ofpeople of all classes.”24 The gentry, along with the

19 Ibid., 116. 20 Ibid., 104. 21 Ibid. 22 Further reading on the consumer revolution can be foundin T.H. Breen, The Marketplace of Revolution: How ConsumerPolitics Shaped American Independence. (New York: OxfordUniversity Press, 2004). 23 Evans, A Topping People, 169. 24 Breen, The Marketplace of Revolution, 52.

15




relied on others—merchants, slaves, and farmingexperts—for their economic success.

The system in place to sell tobacco and purchaseBritish goods was far from perfect. The way tobaccowas grown and sold had been evolving since theestablishment of the colony. Beginning in theeighteenth century, planters sent barrels of tobacco toBritish merchants. This was an unstable situation asplanters waited for the slow transportation of theirproduct across the Atlantic, the sale in London, andthe slow repatriation of their profits. They hoped andtrusted that their British merchant would providethem with the best possible price on their tobacco.However, Virginians were oftentimes disappointed intheir merchants.15 Many felt they were being cheated.John Custis IV complained of his poor prices on histobacco and was “startled to see such a crop of tobaccogiven away.”16 Gentry clients blamed their merchantsfor their problems. As Landon Carter wrote in hisdiary, “for by profession a broker is a villain in the veryengagements he enters into. He must buy and mustsell as cheap and as dear as he can.”17 Despite the lowprofits returning on their tobacco crops, the gentrysurprisingly did not fear increasing their spending.Many never knew how much their tobacco earned astheir profits were used in London on luxury goodswithout ever being repatriated to Virginia.18

Although the gentry planters often blamed their

15 Ibid., 117 16 Ibid., 102 17 Rhys Isaac, Landon Carter’s Uneasy Kingdom: Revolutionand Rebellion on a Virginia Plantation¸ (New York: OxfordUniversity Press, 2004), 255. 18 Evans, A Topping People, 102.


merchants for their apparently small profits, the faultcannot be solely placed on the dishonesty ofmerchants for the economic problems of the gentry.The gentry were spending far more money than theircrops earned. An English visitor in the early 1770scommented that the problem was not that “theirhusbandry is not profitable,” but with “the generalluxury and extravagant living which obtains among”the gentry.19 The gentry had a lifestyle they werepressured to maintain which included excessivespending. Robert ‘King’ Carter put it best when hewrote, “too many among us, when a good market offersfor their tobacco, will lay it out in stores and leavetheir old debts unpaid.”20 Throughout the eighteenthcentury Virginia became more established as a colony,and gentry families increasingly spent their earning onluxury goods. “Indebtedness to British merchantsgrew as Virginian society expanded and became morestable.”21 A consumer revolution made buyingmanufactured goods affordable to a larger segment ofthe population.22 “In the 1760s the importation ofthese articles [luxury goods] increased 75 percent overthat of the 1750s.”23 The culture of buying was shiftingas “manufactured goods inundated the households ofpeople of all classes.”24 The gentry, along with the

19 Ibid., 116. 20 Ibid., 104. 21 Ibid. 22 Further reading on the consumer revolution can be foundin T.H. Breen, The Marketplace of Revolution: How ConsumerPolitics Shaped American Independence. (New York: OxfordUniversity Press, 2004). 23 Evans, A Topping People, 169. 24 Breen, The Marketplace of Revolution, 52.

16




common Virginians, were gaining wealth and powerand wanted an external way to display it. Additionally,as common Virginians were suddenly increasingly ableto buy, the gentry felt more pressure into buyingbigger, better, and more fashionable goods. It wasbecoming much more difficult for the gentry to displaytheir status through their appearance, because it wasbecoming easier for the lower classes to makepurchases that gave them an appearance of wealth.The gentry began to add on to their fathers’ estates,updating the furnishings to be the most fashionableand genteel, and importing the latest fashions fromLondon and Paris, ensuring their appearance wouldset them apart from the more common Virginians.Excessive buying, especially after the consumerrevolution, contributed greatly to the indebtedness ofthe gentry.

Appearance was of great, if not indeed the greatest,importance to the gentry. Thus they avoided anyacknowledgment of their debt and poor businessdealings. It is hard to imagine that the gentry failed torealize their debts were increasing or that they ignoredthe fact that they did not have the funds to repay theirmerchants. Therefore, they did their best to keep theirdebts secret to the outside world in order to maintainthe appearance of gentility and grand wealth. “As debtgrew, there also came increased sensitivity to criticismand the questioning of one’s ability to pay.”25 There aremultiple instances of gentry patriarchs writing thatthey were offended that anyone would question theirability to repay their debts. For example, whenmerchant John Norton wrote to John Baylor insisting

25 Evans A Topping People, 171.


on repayment, Baylor wrote back saying he “took theword Insist…extremely unkind.”26 Thomas Jonesreplied to his merchant, who had written asking formoney, that “I must say…you did not treat megenteely.”27 While many of the gentry must haveknown that their fellow elite were indebted to Britishmerchants, they would not allow their appearance togive them away. They would continue to buy thenewest trends from England, fooling others intothinking they did not have economic troubles. Increased spending only led to increased debt, puttingthe family into a worse financial situation.

The economic climate of the end of the eighteenthcentury is important to factor into the debt problem ofthe gentry. In the mid-eighteenth century, abouttwenty-five years before the Revolution, the economicsituation in Virginia was ideal. “The tobacco tradetripled between the 1720s and the 1770s.”28 Plantersbelieved the golden age would never end and saw noforeseeable problem with spending more than theirtobacco was making. On top of that, British merchantsdid not see much of a risk extending more credit to thegentry. “Yet from a British viewpoint the investmentwas generally good business…merchants normallycompeted intensely to advance credit to planters inorder to secure as much of their product for resale aspossible.”29 Merchants were not going to stopadvancing credit to the gentry any more than thegentry was going to stop spending. Both merchants

26 Ibid., 118 27 Ibid., 119 28 Ibid., 111. 29 Billings, Selby, and Tate, Colonial Virginia, 202-203.

17




common Virginians, were gaining wealth and powerand wanted an external way to display it. Additionally,as common Virginians were suddenly increasingly ableto buy, the gentry felt more pressure into buyingbigger, better, and more fashionable goods. It wasbecoming much more difficult for the gentry to displaytheir status through their appearance, because it wasbecoming easier for the lower classes to makepurchases that gave them an appearance of wealth.The gentry began to add on to their fathers’ estates,updating the furnishings to be the most fashionableand genteel, and importing the latest fashions fromLondon and Paris, ensuring their appearance wouldset them apart from the more common Virginians.Excessive buying, especially after the consumerrevolution, contributed greatly to the indebtedness ofthe gentry.

Appearance was of great, if not indeed the greatest,importance to the gentry. Thus they avoided anyacknowledgment of their debt and poor businessdealings. It is hard to imagine that the gentry failed torealize their debts were increasing or that they ignoredthe fact that they did not have the funds to repay theirmerchants. Therefore, they did their best to keep theirdebts secret to the outside world in order to maintainthe appearance of gentility and grand wealth. “As debtgrew, there also came increased sensitivity to criticismand the questioning of one’s ability to pay.”25 There aremultiple instances of gentry patriarchs writing thatthey were offended that anyone would question theirability to repay their debts. For example, whenmerchant John Norton wrote to John Baylor insisting

25 Evans A Topping People, 171.


on repayment, Baylor wrote back saying he “took theword Insist…extremely unkind.”26 Thomas Jonesreplied to his merchant, who had written asking formoney, that “I must say…you did not treat megenteely.”27 While many of the gentry must haveknown that their fellow elite were indebted to Britishmerchants, they would not allow their appearance togive them away. They would continue to buy thenewest trends from England, fooling others intothinking they did not have economic troubles. Increased spending only led to increased debt, puttingthe family into a worse financial situation.

The economic climate of the end of the eighteenthcentury is important to factor into the debt problem ofthe gentry. In the mid-eighteenth century, abouttwenty-five years before the Revolution, the economicsituation in Virginia was ideal. “The tobacco tradetripled between the 1720s and the 1770s.”28 Plantersbelieved the golden age would never end and saw noforeseeable problem with spending more than theirtobacco was making. On top of that, British merchantsdid not see much of a risk extending more credit to thegentry. “Yet from a British viewpoint the investmentwas generally good business…merchants normallycompeted intensely to advance credit to planters inorder to secure as much of their product for resale aspossible.”29 Merchants were not going to stopadvancing credit to the gentry any more than thegentry was going to stop spending. Both merchants

26 Ibid., 118 27 Ibid., 119 28 Ibid., 111. 29 Billings, Selby, and Tate, Colonial Virginia, 202-203.

18




and planters found great profit in the mid-eighteenthcentury. This growth in wealth meant an increase indebt, and the second generation of Virginia gentrycould not see the end of their golden years.

Once the Revolution began, the economic situationin Virginia declined. Most of the late 1770s and 1780ssaw terrible economic conditions. This was due to thepolitical consequences of the American Revolution, butalso to causes not related to the political climate. TheAmerican Revolution caused problems such as theclosure of ports, the inability to trade with Britain, andthe freeing of the slaves by Governor John Murray, theEarl of Dunmore.30 Additionally, British merchantswere recalling their debts. “With the collapse of theirown sources of credit, British merchants were by1773, pressing their Virginia clients for payment,bringing suit against them in the courts of the colonyif necessary, and denying most of them additionalcredit.”31 On top of this, the planters were affected byproblems out of their control. For example, in latespring 1771, there was a great flooding of the Jamesand Rappahannock Rivers. The colonial governmentattempted to help the plantations, but many had notyet recovered by the time of the American Revolution.32

Additionally, the gentry continued to use credit topurchase necessary goods and luxuries. The economicsituation for the gentry was just as unstable as thepolitical situation with Britain. Ralph Wormeley Jr.describes a colony where there was “little money in the

30 Evans, A Topping People, 195. 31 Billings, Selby, and Tate, Colonial Virginia, 322. 32 See footnote on pages 321-322 in Billings, Selby, andTate, Colonial Virginia.


country, no price for lands, none for Negroes, excepton credit, and laws of so little stability.”33 Despite all ofthis, the gentry had hope that economics would returnto the way they were in the past.

Fortunately—at least in the eyes of the gentry—their increased debt did not contribute to a loss ofsocial status. While other aspects of the life of thegentry seemed doomed, the families were able tomaintain their position at the top of Virginian society.The men of the gentry class were still highly educated,well-mannered, and well-connected in society. Thealready established deference between the gentry andcommon Virginians was mostly kept intact. Theycontinued to be addressed with respect andmaintained the social standings they had alwaysfollowed.34 This was reassuring for the gentry as theirworld fell around them. Despite their maintained socialstanding, the gentry did suffer from their increasingdebt. Many were required to make repayments, leadingto loss of land and property. Others decided to ignoretheir debt but lived with the internal struggle andanxiety. But while the gentry were happy to maintaindeference in Virginia, they found themselves losingtheir greatest power. The most significant fall thegentry experienced was their loss of political powerand position, not their social standing. Socialstanding and political power were not, in the decadesafter the Revolution, dependent upon one another.

While debt was not a direct cause of the gentry’sdecline, it was an important factor in the decline oftheir influence and participation in politics. With their

33 Evans, A Topping People, 196. 34 Ibid., 172-173

19




and planters found great profit in the mid-eighteenthcentury. This growth in wealth meant an increase indebt, and the second generation of Virginia gentrycould not see the end of their golden years.

Once the Revolution began, the economic situationin Virginia declined. Most of the late 1770s and 1780ssaw terrible economic conditions. This was due to thepolitical consequences of the American Revolution, butalso to causes not related to the political climate. TheAmerican Revolution caused problems such as theclosure of ports, the inability to trade with Britain, andthe freeing of the slaves by Governor John Murray, theEarl of Dunmore.30 Additionally, British merchantswere recalling their debts. “With the collapse of theirown sources of credit, British merchants were by1773, pressing their Virginia clients for payment,bringing suit against them in the courts of the colonyif necessary, and denying most of them additionalcredit.”31 On top of this, the planters were affected byproblems out of their control. For example, in latespring 1771, there was a great flooding of the Jamesand Rappahannock Rivers. The colonial governmentattempted to help the plantations, but many had notyet recovered by the time of the American Revolution.32

Additionally, the gentry continued to use credit topurchase necessary goods and luxuries. The economicsituation for the gentry was just as unstable as thepolitical situation with Britain. Ralph Wormeley Jr.describes a colony where there was “little money in the

30 Evans, A Topping People, 195. 31 Billings, Selby, and Tate, Colonial Virginia, 322. 32 See footnote on pages 321-322 in Billings, Selby, andTate, Colonial Virginia.


country, no price for lands, none for Negroes, excepton credit, and laws of so little stability.”33 Despite all ofthis, the gentry had hope that economics would returnto the way they were in the past.

Fortunately—at least in the eyes of the gentry—their increased debt did not contribute to a loss ofsocial status. While other aspects of the life of thegentry seemed doomed, the families were able tomaintain their position at the top of Virginian society.The men of the gentry class were still highly educated,well-mannered, and well-connected in society. Thealready established deference between the gentry andcommon Virginians was mostly kept intact. Theycontinued to be addressed with respect andmaintained the social standings they had alwaysfollowed.34 This was reassuring for the gentry as theirworld fell around them. Despite their maintained socialstanding, the gentry did suffer from their increasingdebt. Many were required to make repayments, leadingto loss of land and property. Others decided to ignoretheir debt but lived with the internal struggle andanxiety. But while the gentry were happy to maintaindeference in Virginia, they found themselves losingtheir greatest power. The most significant fall thegentry experienced was their loss of political powerand position, not their social standing. Socialstanding and political power were not, in the decadesafter the Revolution, dependent upon one another.

While debt was not a direct cause of the gentry’sdecline, it was an important factor in the decline oftheir influence and participation in politics. With their

33 Evans, A Topping People, 196. 34 Ibid., 172-173

20




increased debt, planters were now required to spendmore time at home managing their estates rather thandevoting time to travel and participation in publicservice.35 Following many years of neglecting theirestates, the gentry now realized that they needed tofocus on managing their plantations. The gentry’sabsence in Virginia’s politics proved to be an importantfactor in their decline, especially because of their greatpolitical influence in previous years.

Loss of Political Power and Influence

An identifiable marker of the power of the Virginiangentry was their presence in the colony’s politics. Asthe eighteenth century saw its final decades and theconflict of the American Revolution was becomingmore serious, the presence of the gentry in Virginianpolitics was dwindling.

The colony of Virginia had two governing bodies.The House of Burgesses, or the lower house of theGeneral Assembly of Virginia, was a democraticallyelected body where each member represented a countyin Virginia. The other body, the Governor’s Council, orCouncil of State, consisted of around a dozen men whowere elected by the Crown for life. They were thewealthiest and most prominent members of Virginiansociety. Their role was to advise the governor onmatters of the colony. These two bodies made upVirginia’s colonial political structure and power.

Members of the gentry dominated both the Houseof Burgesses and the Governor’s Council. This gavethem the ability to ensure matters of the colony were

35 Ibid., 199


decided in their favor. Similarly, the governor wantedto keep the gentry happy, not only to protect his owninterests, but to keep the colony thriving. In a letter tothe Board of Trade, Lieutenant Governor WilliamGooch protected the gentry by pursuing morefavorable tobacco trade laws and preventing lawswhich allowed for easier debt collection.36 The status ofthe colony and its people, among the rest of the Britishcolonies, was important to the Governor and to thegentry. Thus, the gentry’s ability to win seats in theHouse of Burgesses or be appointed to a seat on theGovernor’s Council allowed the gentry to create andreinforce laws that benefitted their class, and for mostof the colony’s history the system worked extremelywell in the gentry’s favor.

The greater political influence of the gentry may beseen in the change in power from the Governor’sCouncil to the House of Burgesses.37 The number ofgentry in the Governor’s Council was diminishing asthe Virginian families increasingly identifiedthemselves as Virginians rather than as British. Thegentry then focused on being elected to the House ofBurgesses, where they expanded the power of thissection of colonial authority. Social rank would beretained through election to the House, as well. Especially for the Speaker of the House, the mostpowerful politician in Virginia, an elected seat in theHouse of Burgess meant that the system of deferencein Virginia society remained intact with the gentry ontop.

36 Paul G. E. Clemens, ed., The Colonial Era: A DocumentaryReader. (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2008): 127-130. 37 Evans, A Topping People, 23.

21




increased debt, planters were now required to spendmore time at home managing their estates rather thandevoting time to travel and participation in publicservice.35 Following many years of neglecting theirestates, the gentry now realized that they needed tofocus on managing their plantations. The gentry’sabsence in Virginia’s politics proved to be an importantfactor in their decline, especially because of their greatpolitical influence in previous years.

Loss of Political Power and Influence

An identifiable marker of the power of the Virginiangentry was their presence in the colony’s politics. Asthe eighteenth century saw its final decades and theconflict of the American Revolution was becomingmore serious, the presence of the gentry in Virginianpolitics was dwindling.

The colony of Virginia had two governing bodies.The House of Burgesses, or the lower house of theGeneral Assembly of Virginia, was a democraticallyelected body where each member represented a countyin Virginia. The other body, the Governor’s Council, orCouncil of State, consisted of around a dozen men whowere elected by the Crown for life. They were thewealthiest and most prominent members of Virginiansociety. Their role was to advise the governor onmatters of the colony. These two bodies made upVirginia’s colonial political structure and power.

Members of the gentry dominated both the Houseof Burgesses and the Governor’s Council. This gavethem the ability to ensure matters of the colony were

35 Ibid., 199


decided in their favor. Similarly, the governor wantedto keep the gentry happy, not only to protect his owninterests, but to keep the colony thriving. In a letter tothe Board of Trade, Lieutenant Governor WilliamGooch protected the gentry by pursuing morefavorable tobacco trade laws and preventing lawswhich allowed for easier debt collection.36 The status ofthe colony and its people, among the rest of the Britishcolonies, was important to the Governor and to thegentry. Thus, the gentry’s ability to win seats in theHouse of Burgesses or be appointed to a seat on theGovernor’s Council allowed the gentry to create andreinforce laws that benefitted their class, and for mostof the colony’s history the system worked extremelywell in the gentry’s favor.

The greater political influence of the gentry may beseen in the change in power from the Governor’sCouncil to the House of Burgesses.37 The number ofgentry in the Governor’s Council was diminishing asthe Virginian families increasingly identifiedthemselves as Virginians rather than as British. Thegentry then focused on being elected to the House ofBurgesses, where they expanded the power of thissection of colonial authority. Social rank would beretained through election to the House, as well. Especially for the Speaker of the House, the mostpowerful politician in Virginia, an elected seat in theHouse of Burgess meant that the system of deferencein Virginia society remained intact with the gentry ontop.

36 Paul G. E. Clemens, ed., The Colonial Era: A DocumentaryReader. (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2008): 127-130. 37 Evans, A Topping People, 23.

22




From a first glance, the overlap of the politicalsystem and its elected representatives appears to makesense. Simply, the gentry claimed to act as the bigplanter representing the smaller planter. The gentrywere the group with the free time and disposableincome needed to travel to Williamsburg and serve inthe government. In addition to deference, this claimmade it easy for the gentry to be elected year afteryear. However, despite what they intended or thoughtthey were doing, the gentry who represented theircounty in government ended up serving their owninterests. The needs and desires of the largeplantations did not completely coincide with those ofthe smaller planter.

One important aspect of their political influencewas that the gentry families were only comfortablebeing ruled by their peers. They had the “belief thatpower should be, as in the past, ‘in the hands ofSubstantial landholders.’”38 They feared a future witha government ruled by the middle classes or those with“new money.” They believed that the only way thecolony could be successful and remain equal with theBritish was for it to be ruled by the landed elite. It wasnot surprising that their definition of public servicewas consistent with creating and enforcing laws thatbenefitted themselves. This could really only beachieved by the gentry dominating the colonialgovernment and ensuring that every decision wenttheir way.

The gentry used their political power to theiradvantage. Some laws were beneficial to the colony asa whole, while others were used to serve the gentry’s

38 As quoted in Evans, A Topping People, 201.


own interests. For example, in 1762, the Virginiancolony government passed a bankruptcy law. Onemerchant commented, “The Virginians are in a badplight and no appearance of recovery except they canget an Act passed to exclude ‘em from paying theirDebts.”39 As the ones creating these laws, the gentrywere able to address and fix their own situations bypassing laws that got them out of trouble, saved ormade them money, and ensured their position on thetop of society.40

Serving in the colonial government was not allbusiness for the gentry. Members traveled toWilliamsburg, where they were able to participate innightlife as well as socialize with their peers,something that was not common to the large planter.The capital city of Williamsburg perked up when thegovernment was in session. The men resided in one ofthe taverns located around the Capitol building wherethey were surrounded by other gentry and wealthyVirginians. They socialized in the taverns andcoffeehouses where they discussed politics andentertainment as well as partook in the current gossip.There was other entertainment available inWilliamsburg such as traveling shows or plays. Thegentry also loved to gamble and won or lost large sumsof money while playing cards or betting on horseraces.These trips to Williamsburg exacerbated the gentry’s

39 As quoted in Woody Holton, Forced Founders: Indians,Debtors, Slaves, and the Making of the American Revolution inVirginia. (Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North CarolinaPress, 1999), 61. 40 John E. Selby, The Revolution in Virginia, 1775-1783(Williamsburg, VA: The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation,1988), 244.

23




From a first glance, the overlap of the politicalsystem and its elected representatives appears to makesense. Simply, the gentry claimed to act as the bigplanter representing the smaller planter. The gentrywere the group with the free time and disposableincome needed to travel to Williamsburg and serve inthe government. In addition to deference, this claimmade it easy for the gentry to be elected year afteryear. However, despite what they intended or thoughtthey were doing, the gentry who represented theircounty in government ended up serving their owninterests. The needs and desires of the largeplantations did not completely coincide with those ofthe smaller planter.

One important aspect of their political influencewas that the gentry families were only comfortablebeing ruled by their peers. They had the “belief thatpower should be, as in the past, ‘in the hands ofSubstantial landholders.’”38 They feared a future witha government ruled by the middle classes or those with“new money.” They believed that the only way thecolony could be successful and remain equal with theBritish was for it to be ruled by the landed elite. It wasnot surprising that their definition of public servicewas consistent with creating and enforcing laws thatbenefitted themselves. This could really only beachieved by the gentry dominating the colonialgovernment and ensuring that every decision wenttheir way.

The gentry used their political power to theiradvantage. Some laws were beneficial to the colony asa whole, while others were used to serve the gentry’s



own interests. For example, in 1762, the Virginiancolony government passed a bankruptcy law. Onemerchant commented, “The Virginians are in a badplight and no appearance of recovery except they canget an Act passed to exclude ‘em from paying theirDebts.”39 As the ones creating these laws, the gentrywere able to address and fix their own situations bypassing laws that got them out of trouble, saved ormade them money, and ensured their position on thetop of society.40

Serving in the colonial government was not allbusiness for the gentry. Members traveled toWilliamsburg, where they were able to participate innightlife as well as socialize with their peers,something that was not common to the large planter.The capital city of Williamsburg perked up when thegovernment was in session. The men resided in one ofthe taverns located around the Capitol building wherethey were surrounded by other gentry and wealthyVirginians. They socialized in the taverns andcoffeehouses where they discussed politics andentertainment as well as partook in the current gossip.There was other entertainment available inWilliamsburg such as traveling shows or plays. Thegentry also loved to gamble and won or lost large sumsof money while playing cards or betting on horseraces.These trips to Williamsburg exacerbated the gentry’s

39 As quoted in Woody Holton, Forced Founders: Indians,Debtors, Slaves, and the Making of the American Revolution inVirginia. (Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North CarolinaPress, 1999), 61. 40 John E. Selby, The Revolution in Virginia, 1775-1783(Williamsburg, VA: The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation,1988), 244.

24




debt problems, by taking them away from theirplantations for many months as well as allowing themto waste money by excessive eating, drinking,gambling and spending on other entertainment. Thetime and money commitment became toooverwhelming and the gentry needed to removethemselves from the government. Not only were theynot elected, they were not putting themselves in therunning to be elected and serve. Many of the gentryfamilies needed their patriarch at home and could notafford for them to spend months away traveling. It wasa tough decision for many, but spending the time ontheir plantations and families was crucially needed. While some gentry did choose not to run for officeand remain home on their plantations, others wantedto serve in office, but were not reelected. One exampleof this is Landon Carter who was defeated in theelection of 1768. Carter writes in his diary, “I can wellremember when I was turned out of the House ofBurgesses. It was said that I did not familiarize myselfamong the people.”41 In an era as significant as theAmerican Revolution, voters wanted to elect men whowould represent their desires and needs. Theviewpoints and stances of the gentry were not whatsome voters were looking for. The gentry were not seenas obsolete; they appear to be respected but not alwaystaken seriously about their political stances andpositions.

The gentry’s participation in the House ofBurgesses was dwindling, but remained strong until

41 Isaac, Landon Carter’s Uneasy Kingdom, 300.


Governor Dunmore dissolved the group in 1774.42

Political participation in Virginia following thisdissolution was through committees and conventionsheld in Richmond and Williamsburg. The new politicalsituation the colonies were in made way for creatingnew laws and new structures of government, and forthe gentry, a group not fond of change, this was a hardsituation.

A clear representation of the decline of gentry ingovernment was seen between the Fourth and the FifthVirginia Conventions. In December, 1775, the FourthVirginia Convention was held in Williamsburg,Virginia. The political stance of the men was changingas they moved closer to supporting independence. Thegentry families were well represented at thisconvention, about seventeen of the twenty-one gentryfamilies were present. There was a steep drop in thefew months that separated the Fourth and FifthConventions. In May, 1776, the Fifth VirginiaConvention declared their support for independence.About one-third of the members were newly electedfrom the emerging elite families who had more freetime to serve and were open to new ideas. PatrickHenry, a man far from being gentry, was chosen as thenew governor of Virginia. This was the beginning of thedownfall of the gentry, who were perceived as beingold-fashioned and not open to new ideas, and in adebate on something as important as independence,the positions of the members were crucial. The

42 George F. Willison, Behold Virginia: Fifth Crown, Being theTrials, Adventures, and Disasters of the First Families of Virginia,the Rise of the Grandees, and the Eventual Triumph of theCommon and Uncommon Sort in the Revolution (New York:Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1951) 365.

25




debt problems, by taking them away from theirplantations for many months as well as allowing themto waste money by excessive eating, drinking,gambling and spending on other entertainment. Thetime and money commitment became toooverwhelming and the gentry needed to removethemselves from the government. Not only were theynot elected, they were not putting themselves in therunning to be elected and serve. Many of the gentryfamilies needed their patriarch at home and could notafford for them to spend months away traveling. It wasa tough decision for many, but spending the time ontheir plantations and families was crucially needed. While some gentry did choose not to run for officeand remain home on their plantations, others wantedto serve in office, but were not reelected. One exampleof this is Landon Carter who was defeated in theelection of 1768. Carter writes in his diary, “I can wellremember when I was turned out of the House ofBurgesses. It was said that I did not familiarize myselfamong the people.”41 In an era as significant as theAmerican Revolution, voters wanted to elect men whowould represent their desires and needs. Theviewpoints and stances of the gentry were not whatsome voters were looking for. The gentry were not seenas obsolete; they appear to be respected but not alwaystaken seriously about their political stances andpositions.

The gentry’s participation in the House ofBurgesses was dwindling, but remained strong until

41 Isaac, Landon Carter’s Uneasy Kingdom, 300.


Governor Dunmore dissolved the group in 1774.42

Political participation in Virginia following thisdissolution was through committees and conventionsheld in Richmond and Williamsburg. The new politicalsituation the colonies were in made way for creatingnew laws and new structures of government, and forthe gentry, a group not fond of change, this was a hardsituation.

A clear representation of the decline of gentry ingovernment was seen between the Fourth and the FifthVirginia Conventions. In December, 1775, the FourthVirginia Convention was held in Williamsburg,Virginia. The political stance of the men was changingas they moved closer to supporting independence. Thegentry families were well represented at thisconvention, about seventeen of the twenty-one gentryfamilies were present. There was a steep drop in thefew months that separated the Fourth and FifthConventions. In May, 1776, the Fifth VirginiaConvention declared their support for independence.About one-third of the members were newly electedfrom the emerging elite families who had more freetime to serve and were open to new ideas. PatrickHenry, a man far from being gentry, was chosen as thenew governor of Virginia. This was the beginning of thedownfall of the gentry, who were perceived as beingold-fashioned and not open to new ideas, and in adebate on something as important as independence,the positions of the members were crucial. The

42 George F. Willison, Behold Virginia: Fifth Crown, Being theTrials, Adventures, and Disasters of the First Families of Virginia,the Rise of the Grandees, and the Eventual Triumph of theCommon and Uncommon Sort in the Revolution (New York:Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1951) 365.

26




declining representation of the gentry in theseimportant Virginia Conventions is a significantindicator of their decline in public service in the1770s.43

The emerging powerful non-gentry politicians bothscared and comforted the gentry. They were familiarwith these men, as they had served with them in theHouse of Burgesses. Many were of “new money,” thosewho were just as wealthy as the gentry but were not apart of the old gentry families. The gentry hadexperience serving alongside many of them ingovernment and were aware of their choices andperspectives. However, they were nervous aboutplacing so much power in the hands of the“inexperienced,”44 as Landon Carter put it. The gentrywere nervous about their new colleagues’ inexperienceboth in government but also in the elite Virginiansociety. The gentry were proud of being Virginians anddid not want that identity to be tainted. In any case, instepping down from public service, the gentry knewthe hands in which they were leaving the government.While they were familiar with their replacements, thechange that was to come in Virginia scared them.

Change was on the horizon for the gentry. Theywere giving up their political power and the benefits itprovided. They also risked losing status and deferenceamong the lower classes as the new emerging elitewere taking their places. While they understood thatchange was necessary, they were reluctant to give upthe lifestyle to which they were accustomed. Theywould resist any change and found themselves

43 Evans, A Topping People, 189-191. 44 Ibid., 193.


stubbornly stuck in the past.

Resistance to Change

The young, new patriarchs were certainly expectingto live the genteel lives of their fathers, lives of luxuryand extreme power. They had grown up watching theirfathers leave for Williamsburg to serve in thegovernment, they attended church services onSundays and saw the way their fathers were treated bythe lower classes, and they sat at the dinner tablelistening to the news and gossips brought by thedinner guests. Hoping to inherit similar lifestyles, theywere surely disappointed to find the only thing theyinherited from the past was debt, failing plantations,and well-known family names. Whether or not theywere previously aware of their fathers’ economic andagricultural situation, they were suddenly thrust intolives of responsibility. These young men were findingthemselves in a new position of power that they hadlong awaited. They were the new patriarchs of theirestate having to make decisions to keep the plantationsuccessful and thriving. And because they believedthey were to inherit the lifestyle of their fathers, theywere determined to regain that lifestyle for themselves. “They ‘believed that the path to prosperity lay infollowing the traditions of the past. The image of theindependent planter who grew tobacco and dominatedthe household powerfully resonated with them’ evenwhile they were already witnessing ‘the collapse ofmany tidewater families.’”45 These newest members ofthe gentry class were determined, despite indicators of


27




declining representation of the gentry in theseimportant Virginia Conventions is a significantindicator of their decline in public service in the1770s.43

The emerging powerful non-gentry politicians bothscared and comforted the gentry. They were familiarwith these men, as they had served with them in theHouse of Burgesses. Many were of “new money,” thosewho were just as wealthy as the gentry but were not apart of the old gentry families. The gentry hadexperience serving alongside many of them ingovernment and were aware of their choices andperspectives. However, they were nervous aboutplacing so much power in the hands of the“inexperienced,”44 as Landon Carter put it. The gentrywere nervous about their new colleagues’ inexperienceboth in government but also in the elite Virginiansociety. The gentry were proud of being Virginians anddid not want that identity to be tainted. In any case, instepping down from public service, the gentry knewthe hands in which they were leaving the government.While they were familiar with their replacements, thechange that was to come in Virginia scared them.

Change was on the horizon for the gentry. Theywere giving up their political power and the benefits itprovided. They also risked losing status and deferenceamong the lower classes as the new emerging elitewere taking their places. While they understood thatchange was necessary, they were reluctant to give upthe lifestyle to which they were accustomed. Theywould resist any change and found themselves

43 Evans, A Topping People, 189-191. 44 Ibid., 193.


stubbornly stuck in the past.

Resistance to Change

The young, new patriarchs were certainly expectingto live the genteel lives of their fathers, lives of luxuryand extreme power. They had grown up watching theirfathers leave for Williamsburg to serve in thegovernment, they attended church services onSundays and saw the way their fathers were treated bythe lower classes, and they sat at the dinner tablelistening to the news and gossips brought by thedinner guests. Hoping to inherit similar lifestyles, theywere surely disappointed to find the only thing theyinherited from the past was debt, failing plantations,and well-known family names. Whether or not theywere previously aware of their fathers’ economic andagricultural situation, they were suddenly thrust intolives of responsibility. These young men were findingthemselves in a new position of power that they hadlong awaited. They were the new patriarchs of theirestate having to make decisions to keep the plantationsuccessful and thriving. And because they believedthey were to inherit the lifestyle of their fathers, theywere determined to regain that lifestyle for themselves. “They ‘believed that the path to prosperity lay infollowing the traditions of the past. The image of theindependent planter who grew tobacco and dominatedthe household powerfully resonated with them’ evenwhile they were already witnessing ‘the collapse ofmany tidewater families.’”45 These newest members ofthe gentry class were determined, despite indicators of


28




the futility of this path, to live the life of their ancestorsand their way of accomplishing this was to follow theways of the past.

The determination to carry on the life of the gentrytobacco planter was very strong in these young men.Remembering the past and the life led by theirancestors pushed them even further in their pursuit ofthe plantation life. “The young men believed they couldprosper as planters despite the picture of economicdistress among them. They wanted to live, as theybelieved as their parents had, entertaining lavishly andimporting foreign goods.”46 And as the gentry foundthemselves in more and more trouble, the further theyromanticized the past. These failing men believed theywere born too late. They lamented over the great gentrylives of the past. They were disappointed to find that“the ‘old gentry’ had disappeared.”47 However, theevidence did not stop them from continuing to pursuea planter life.

The gentry’s stubbornness to change is visible inmany ways. First, the new gentry were set on beingplanters. They inherited grand plantations with manyslaves and, in their minds, they inherited a planterway of life. They were not interested in learning of theirother career options, because they did not envisionthemselves as anything other than planters. They onlysaw their status being tied to the land, the crops theyplanted, and the grandness of their plantation homes.While the up and coming non-gentry wealthy youngmen of Virginia used the avenues of the law to gainstatus and wealth, the gentry were standing by the

46 As quoted in Evans, A Topping People, 200. 47 As quoted in Evans, A Topping People, 201.


traditions of their past. It was only to be expected thatthe failures of the gentry would lead to the emergenceof a new Virginia elite that included Thomas Jefferson,George Washington, and James Madison.

Second, the plantations of the young gentrycontinued to be planted with tobacco. Many of theirfathers had begun to experiment with cropdiversification planting crops such as grain, whichthey hoped would be easier to grow and be easier soldin the colonies. They looked into other investmentswhile continuing to survey and purchase westernlands. These men knew that tobacco was not going tofuel their wealth in the long term, especially withdecreasing prices and the common planter’s ability togrow tobacco and purchase more land. However, thenew young patriarchs looked to the past beyond theirfathers’ time and wanted to mirror the lifestyle of thewealthy tobacco planter. The men believed that “if theywere going to maintain their lifestyle and status, theywould have to do so through planting alone.”48 So, inan attempt to decrease debts, they sold newly acquiredlands to reduce debt and only planted tobacco on theirfamilies’ plantations. This proved to be a terriblechoice as tobacco was expensive and hard to grow,requiring many more slaves than most other crops.Additionally, the tobacco continued to deplete the soilof its nutrients, resulting in decreasing success of thecrop each year.49 Philip Vicker Fithian, a tutor on agentry plantation notes in his diary, “their land in

48 Evans, A Topping People, 171. 49 Louis B. Wright, The First Gentlemen of Virginia:Intellectual Qualities of the Early Colonial Ruling Class (SanMarino, CA: The Huntington Library, 1940), 351-2.

29




the futility of this path, to live the life of their ancestorsand their way of accomplishing this was to follow theways of the past.

The determination to carry on the life of the gentrytobacco planter was very strong in these young men.Remembering the past and the life led by theirancestors pushed them even further in their pursuit ofthe plantation life. “The young men believed they couldprosper as planters despite the picture of economicdistress among them. They wanted to live, as theybelieved as their parents had, entertaining lavishly andimporting foreign goods.”46 And as the gentry foundthemselves in more and more trouble, the further theyromanticized the past. These failing men believed theywere born too late. They lamented over the great gentrylives of the past. They were disappointed to find that“the ‘old gentry’ had disappeared.”47 However, theevidence did not stop them from continuing to pursuea planter life.

The gentry’s stubbornness to change is visible inmany ways. First, the new gentry were set on beingplanters. They inherited grand plantations with manyslaves and, in their minds, they inherited a planterway of life. They were not interested in learning of theirother career options, because they did not envisionthemselves as anything other than planters. They onlysaw their status being tied to the land, the crops theyplanted, and the grandness of their plantation homes.While the up and coming non-gentry wealthy youngmen of Virginia used the avenues of the law to gainstatus and wealth, the gentry were standing by the

46 As quoted in Evans, A Topping People, 200. 47 As quoted in Evans, A Topping People, 201.


traditions of their past. It was only to be expected thatthe failures of the gentry would lead to the emergenceof a new Virginia elite that included Thomas Jefferson,George Washington, and James Madison.

Second, the plantations of the young gentrycontinued to be planted with tobacco. Many of theirfathers had begun to experiment with cropdiversification planting crops such as grain, whichthey hoped would be easier to grow and be easier soldin the colonies. They looked into other investmentswhile continuing to survey and purchase westernlands. These men knew that tobacco was not going tofuel their wealth in the long term, especially withdecreasing prices and the common planter’s ability togrow tobacco and purchase more land. However, thenew young patriarchs looked to the past beyond theirfathers’ time and wanted to mirror the lifestyle of thewealthy tobacco planter. The men believed that “if theywere going to maintain their lifestyle and status, theywould have to do so through planting alone.”48 So, inan attempt to decrease debts, they sold newly acquiredlands to reduce debt and only planted tobacco on theirfamilies’ plantations. This proved to be a terriblechoice as tobacco was expensive and hard to grow,requiring many more slaves than most other crops.Additionally, the tobacco continued to deplete the soilof its nutrients, resulting in decreasing success of thecrop each year.49 Philip Vicker Fithian, a tutor on agentry plantation notes in his diary, “their land in

48 Evans, A Topping People, 171. 49 Louis B. Wright, The First Gentlemen of Virginia:Intellectual Qualities of the Early Colonial Ruling Class (SanMarino, CA: The Huntington Library, 1940), 351-2.

30




general being so poor that it will not produce it—andtheir method of farming is slovenly, without any regardto continue their Land in heart, for future crops—theyplant large quantities of land, without any manure andwork it very hard to make the best of the crop.”50

Unfortunate problems with weather, such as theflooding in the early 1770s, caused problems with thegentry’s tobacco crops. Also, trade with England wasdecreasing, if not halted, by the time these men weremarketing their tobacco. This meant they needed tosell their tobacco elsewhere, which usually resulted inless profit. Yet despite these problems, the men wereset on growing tobacco. “They were trapped by theassumptions of a staple culture.”51 This stubbornmisunderstanding of growing tobacco only contributedto their decline.

Another way the gentry men stubbornly fell intodecline was their weariness of living a more simple lifeas a way of decreasing their enormous debt. While theydid cut back on a few luxuries, they did too little tomake a decent dent in repaying their debt. To maintaintheir status and power through deference, the men feltthat they needed to keep up the appearance of wealth.“Pressure to maintain a genteel lifestyle createdinsecurity because they had to be constantly vigilantto maintain ‘complete gentility’ on the English

50 Philip Vickers Fithian, “Fryday April 1st 1774” in Journaland Letters of Philip Vickers Fithian, 1773-1774: A PlantationTutor of the Old Dominion, edited by Hunter Dickinson Farish,(Williamsburg, VA: Colonial Williamsburg, Inc., 1965), 88-89. 51 Timothy H. Breen, “The Symbolic World of the TobaccoPlanter” in Major Problems in Colonial History, edited by KarenOrdahl Kupperman (Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath and Company,1993), 439.


model.”52 They continued to buy and increase theirdebt, ignoring the declining economic situation inwhich they found themselves.

The Revolution presented additional problems forthe young gentry. They found themselves needing tochoose a side, Loyalist or Patriot, which was hard formany who considered themselves equals with thelanded elite of England. Although the Virginian gentryhad some representation, many of these men did notparticipate in political events of the Revolution such asthe Continental Congress. Virginia was, rather,represented by an emerging new elite while the gentrywere at home tending to their failing plantations.Additionally, they were accustomed to their importedgoods and struggled as they were unable to make newpurchases through their British merchant. Along withthe other colonists, the gentry were affected by closureof ports and the inability to trade with England. Lifewas unpredictable as change was constantlyhappening around them.

There are two good examples of the gentry beingdirectly affected by a Revolution-related decision. Thefirst was in 1775 when Governor of Virginia, LordDunmore, promised freedom to any slave who left theirhomes and fought for the British.53 Landon Carter,along with many of the gentry planters, suffered fromthis proclamation. Carter writes in his diary of thestruggle, “much is said of the slavery of negroes, buthow will servants be provided in these times? Those

52 Evans, A Topping People, 170-1. 53 “Lord Dunmore Promises Freedom to Slaves Who Fight forBritain, 1775,” Major Problems in the Era of the AmericanRevolution, 1760-1791, 2nd edited by Richard D. Brown, (NewYork: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2000), 259-60.

31




general being so poor that it will not produce it—andtheir method of farming is slovenly, without any regardto continue their Land in heart, for future crops—theyplant large quantities of land, without any manure andwork it very hard to make the best of the crop.”50

Unfortunate problems with weather, such as theflooding in the early 1770s, caused problems with thegentry’s tobacco crops. Also, trade with England wasdecreasing, if not halted, by the time these men weremarketing their tobacco. This meant they needed tosell their tobacco elsewhere, which usually resulted inless profit. Yet despite these problems, the men wereset on growing tobacco. “They were trapped by theassumptions of a staple culture.”51 This stubbornmisunderstanding of growing tobacco only contributedto their decline.

Another way the gentry men stubbornly fell intodecline was their weariness of living a more simple lifeas a way of decreasing their enormous debt. While theydid cut back on a few luxuries, they did too little tomake a decent dent in repaying their debt. To maintaintheir status and power through deference, the men feltthat they needed to keep up the appearance of wealth.“Pressure to maintain a genteel lifestyle createdinsecurity because they had to be constantly vigilantto maintain ‘complete gentility’ on the English

50 Philip Vickers Fithian, “Fryday April 1st 1774” in Journaland Letters of Philip Vickers Fithian, 1773-1774: A PlantationTutor of the Old Dominion, edited by Hunter Dickinson Farish,(Williamsburg, VA: Colonial Williamsburg, Inc., 1965), 88-89. 51 Timothy H. Breen, “The Symbolic World of the TobaccoPlanter” in Major Problems in Colonial History, edited by KarenOrdahl Kupperman (Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath and Company,1993), 439.


model.”52 They continued to buy and increase theirdebt, ignoring the declining economic situation inwhich they found themselves.

The Revolution presented additional problems forthe young gentry. They found themselves needing tochoose a side, Loyalist or Patriot, which was hard formany who considered themselves equals with thelanded elite of England. Although the Virginian gentryhad some representation, many of these men did notparticipate in political events of the Revolution such asthe Continental Congress. Virginia was, rather,represented by an emerging new elite while the gentrywere at home tending to their failing plantations.Additionally, they were accustomed to their importedgoods and struggled as they were unable to make newpurchases through their British merchant. Along withthe other colonists, the gentry were affected by closureof ports and the inability to trade with England. Lifewas unpredictable as change was constantlyhappening around them.

There are two good examples of the gentry beingdirectly affected by a Revolution-related decision. Thefirst was in 1775 when Governor of Virginia, LordDunmore, promised freedom to any slave who left theirhomes and fought for the British.53 Landon Carter,along with many of the gentry planters, suffered fromthis proclamation. Carter writes in his diary of thestruggle, “much is said of the slavery of negroes, buthow will servants be provided in these times? Those

52 Evans, A Topping People, 170-1. 53 “Lord Dunmore Promises Freedom to Slaves Who Fight forBritain, 1775,” Major Problems in the Era of the AmericanRevolution, 1760-1791, 2nd edited by Richard D. Brown, (NewYork: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2000), 259-60.

32




few servants that we have don’t do as much as thepoorest slaves we have.”54 The gentry planters, whoheavily relied on their slave labor, struggled to runtheir plantations as they were in constant fear of theirslaves running away. Another decision that wastroubling and difficult for the gentry was theContinental Congress’ passing of “The Non-ImportationAgreement” during the Virginia Association in the fallof 1774. This act declared, “To obtain redress of thesegrievances which threaten destruction to the lives,liberty, and property of His Majesty's subjects in NorthAmerica, we are of an opinion that a nonimportation,nonconsumption, and nonexportation agreement,faithfully adhered to, will prove the most speedy,effectual, and peaceable measure.”55 Virginia hadsigned this agreement, pressuring the gentry into itsterms. While the gentry did want peace and an end tothe conflict and troubles with Britain, these were hardterms for the gentry to adhere to.56 They were beingasked to give up the luxuries that defined their class.The Revolution was not presenting the gentry withmany changes which pleased them.

Overall, the young gentry men were unwilling andstubborn to change. They were determined to besuccessful tobacco planters and live the lives of theirfathers and grandfathers. As they faced increased debtthey failed to live a more modest lifestyle anddrastically cut back on their spending. And as theRevolution changed the identity of the colonies, it also

54 Ibid., 10. 55 “The Non-Importation Agreement” as cited in Billings,Selby, and Tate, Colonial Virginia, 330. 56 Billings, Selby, and Tate, Colonial Virginia, 335.


changed the gentry’s world and presented them withnew insurmountable challenges.

Conclusion

As a whole, the third-generation gentry class failedto live up to the lives of their fathers and grandfathers.They were unable to save their families or theirplantations from the many problems they faced. Whiletheir decline was largely due to their ownshortcomings, the third generation did inherit aterrible economic situation unfamiliar to their fathers.The debt they inherited and contributed to became solarge it was completely unbearable and impossible torepay. This contributed to a loss of political power asthe gentry stopped running for public office to focus ontheir plantations. The biggest failure of the gentry,however, was their inability to react to change andadapt to the changing world. The gentry feared thefuture and held onto the memory of the past so tightlythat they were unable to see the reality of theirsituation. They believed that the old ways wouldalways be the best ways. Their wariness of change canbe seen in their planting of tobacco, failure to diversify,and continued buying of luxurious goods. Althoughthey did what they thought was best, they were unableto pull themselves out of difficult times, as a newemerging elite took their place on history’s main stage. They were truly "as worthless as an eldest son couldbe.”57

57 Evans, A Topping People, 202.

33




few servants that we have don’t do as much as thepoorest slaves we have.”54 The gentry planters, whoheavily relied on their slave labor, struggled to runtheir plantations as they were in constant fear of theirslaves running away. Another decision that wastroubling and difficult for the gentry was theContinental Congress’ passing of “The Non-ImportationAgreement” during the Virginia Association in the fallof 1774. This act declared, “To obtain redress of thesegrievances which threaten destruction to the lives,liberty, and property of His Majesty's subjects in NorthAmerica, we are of an opinion that a nonimportation,nonconsumption, and nonexportation agreement,faithfully adhered to, will prove the most speedy,effectual, and peaceable measure.”55 Virginia hadsigned this agreement, pressuring the gentry into itsterms. While the gentry did want peace and an end tothe conflict and troubles with Britain, these were hardterms for the gentry to adhere to.56 They were beingasked to give up the luxuries that defined their class.The Revolution was not presenting the gentry withmany changes which pleased them.

Overall, the young gentry men were unwilling andstubborn to change. They were determined to besuccessful tobacco planters and live the lives of theirfathers and grandfathers. As they faced increased debtthey failed to live a more modest lifestyle anddrastically cut back on their spending. And as theRevolution changed the identity of the colonies, it also

54 Ibid., 10. 55 “The Non-Importation Agreement” as cited in Billings,Selby, and Tate, Colonial Virginia, 330. 56 Billings, Selby, and Tate, Colonial Virginia, 335.


changed the gentry’s world and presented them withnew insurmountable challenges.

Conclusion

As a whole, the third-generation gentry class failedto live up to the lives of their fathers and grandfathers.They were unable to save their families or theirplantations from the many problems they faced. Whiletheir decline was largely due to their ownshortcomings, the third generation did inherit aterrible economic situation unfamiliar to their fathers.The debt they inherited and contributed to became solarge it was completely unbearable and impossible torepay. This contributed to a loss of political power asthe gentry stopped running for public office to focus ontheir plantations. The biggest failure of the gentry,however, was their inability to react to change andadapt to the changing world. The gentry feared thefuture and held onto the memory of the past so tightlythat they were unable to see the reality of theirsituation. They believed that the old ways wouldalways be the best ways. Their wariness of change canbe seen in their planting of tobacco, failure to diversify,and continued buying of luxurious goods. Althoughthey did what they thought was best, they were unableto pull themselves out of difficult times, as a newemerging elite took their place on history’s main stage. They were truly "as worthless as an eldest son couldbe.”57

57 Evans, A Topping People, 202.

34




Celina Mogan is a senior History and ReligiousStudies double major at Santa Clara University. Heremphasis is United States with her favorite area ofstudy being colonial and Revolutionary America. In thefuture, Celina hopes to do graduate work in MuseumStudies or Material Culture and pursue a career inmuseums.


“Comrades for a Common Cause”:Jewish Women, Social Clubs, andPublic Health Reform in the ProgressiveEra


Lillian D. Wald, Jewish nurse and founder of theHenry Street Settlement in New York City, was workingin a hospital as part of her training when she wascalled to the home of a woman who became ill aftergiving birth. In her memoir The House on HenryStreet, Wald recounts the horrid conditions sheencountered on the Lower Eastside of Manhattan,which at the time was an area of tenements inhabitedby some of the city’s poorest residents. The family shemet included a crippled father and seven childrensharing just two rooms. Wald described her encounterwith life outside the walls of her medical school as “abaptism of fire.”

Deserted were the laboratory and the academicwork of the college. I never returned tothem....my mind was intent on my ownresponsibility. To my inexperience it seemedcertain that conditions such as these wereallowed because people did not know, and forme there was a challenge to know and totell....my naive conviction remained that, ifpeople knew things,--and ‘things’ meanteverything implied in the condition of thisfamily,--such horrors would cease to exist, andI rejoiced that I had had a training in the care of

35




Celina Mogan is a senior History and ReligiousStudies double major at Santa Clara University. Heremphasis is United States with her favorite area ofstudy being colonial and Revolutionary America. In thefuture, Celina hopes to do graduate work in MuseumStudies or Material Culture and pursue a career inmuseums.


“Comrades for a Common Cause”:Jewish Women, Social Clubs, andPublic Health Reform in the ProgressiveEra


Lillian D. Wald, Jewish nurse and founder of theHenry Street Settlement in New York City, was workingin a hospital as part of her training when she wascalled to the home of a woman who became ill aftergiving birth. In her memoir The House on HenryStreet, Wald recounts the horrid conditions sheencountered on the Lower Eastside of Manhattan,which at the time was an area of tenements inhabitedby some of the city’s poorest residents. The family shemet included a crippled father and seven childrensharing just two rooms. Wald described her encounterwith life outside the walls of her medical school as “abaptism of fire.”

Deserted were the laboratory and the academicwork of the college. I never returned tothem....my mind was intent on my ownresponsibility. To my inexperience it seemedcertain that conditions such as these wereallowed because people did not know, and forme there was a challenge to know and totell....my naive conviction remained that, ifpeople knew things,--and ‘things’ meanteverything implied in the condition of thisfamily,--such horrors would cease to exist, andI rejoiced that I had had a training in the care of

36



“Comrades for a Common Cause” 29

the sick that in itself would give me an organicrelationship to the neighborhood in which thisawakening had come. (sic)1

Lillian Wald was one of many American womencompelled to improve the bleak living and workingconditions of the poorest American citizens. Thevarious reforms women fought for during theProgressive Era, including labor, public health,education, and public policy reforms, along with thestruggles women faced to obtain the right to vote,occupy volumes of historical research of the era.Progressive women took up the fight for social reformas part of their feminine duty to lift up the parts ofAmerica that had been left to suffer while a select fewcitizens flourished.2 Keith A. Zahniser details the manyreforms in Pittsburgh spearheaded by both men andwomen, and emphasizes the importance they played inmany programs championed by the Protestantcommunity.3 Historians Dorothy Schneider and Carl J.Schneider have detailed the experiences reformistwomen called “New Women” by their contemporaries.Their book American Women in the Progressive Era,1900-1920, is an excellent primer to explore the mainissues at the heart of Progressivism as well as the

1 Lillian D. Wald, The House on Henry Street (New York:Henry Holt and Company, 1915), 7-8. 2 Robyn Muncy, Creating a Female Dominion in AmericanReform, 1890-1935 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991),158-165. 3 Keith A. Zahniser, Steel City Gospel: Protestant Laity andReform in Progressive-Era Pittsburgh (New York: Routledge,2005).


diversity within the movement.4 However, as theirnarrative covers a broad scope of topics, it barelydeviates from the prevailing narrative of the traditionalProgressive women. More recently, Charlotte J. Richand Martha J. Patterson challenge the prominence ofthe “New Women” as they examine the multiethnicimpact it had on American women

The role of Jewish women as part of the fight forlabor reform has been heavily researched by scholarsof the Progressive Era interested in looking outside themain realm of white Protestant women. Scholars havefound that the number of Jewish immigrants workingin the garment industry, estimated to be over half of allworking women in New York City, provided a base forJewish women to form unions to defend themselvesagainst dangerous and exploitative labor practices.Incidents like the Triangle Factory Fire, in whichfemale workers became trapped in the burning factoryresulting in 146 deaths and many more injuries,united Jewish women of different classes andbackgrounds. Leon Stein’s analysis of the tragic event’seffect on the labor movement, with particularemphasis paid to the immigrant women who hadworked and died in the factory, is an importantnarrative in the history of labor reform.5 Otherhistorians have focused their narratives on the effortsof Jewish women as they came together to form unionsacross the country. Gerald Sorin recounts the work ofRose Pesotta, a Jewish immigrant active in the

4 Dorothy Schneider and Carl J. Schneider, American Womenin the Progressive Era, 1900-1920 (New York: Anchor, 1994). 5 Leon Stein, The Triangle Fire (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UniversityPress, 1962).

37




the sick that in itself would give me an organicrelationship to the neighborhood in which thisawakening had come. (sic)1

Lillian Wald was one of many American womencompelled to improve the bleak living and workingconditions of the poorest American citizens. Thevarious reforms women fought for during theProgressive Era, including labor, public health,education, and public policy reforms, along with thestruggles women faced to obtain the right to vote,occupy volumes of historical research of the era.Progressive women took up the fight for social reformas part of their feminine duty to lift up the parts ofAmerica that had been left to suffer while a select fewcitizens flourished.2 Keith A. Zahniser details the manyreforms in Pittsburgh spearheaded by both men andwomen, and emphasizes the importance they played inmany programs championed by the Protestantcommunity.3 Historians Dorothy Schneider and Carl J.Schneider have detailed the experiences reformistwomen called “New Women” by their contemporaries.Their book American Women in the Progressive Era,1900-1920, is an excellent primer to explore the mainissues at the heart of Progressivism as well as the

1 Lillian D. Wald, The House on Henry Street (New York:Henry Holt and Company, 1915), 7-8. 2 Robyn Muncy, Creating a Female Dominion in AmericanReform, 1890-1935 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991),158-165. 3 Keith A. Zahniser, Steel City Gospel: Protestant Laity andReform in Progressive-Era Pittsburgh (New York: Routledge,2005).


diversity within the movement.4 However, as theirnarrative covers a broad scope of topics, it barelydeviates from the prevailing narrative of the traditionalProgressive women. More recently, Charlotte J. Richand Martha J. Patterson challenge the prominence ofthe “New Women” as they examine the multiethnicimpact it had on American women

The role of Jewish women as part of the fight forlabor reform has been heavily researched by scholarsof the Progressive Era interested in looking outside themain realm of white Protestant women. Scholars havefound that the number of Jewish immigrants workingin the garment industry, estimated to be over half of allworking women in New York City, provided a base forJewish women to form unions to defend themselvesagainst dangerous and exploitative labor practices.Incidents like the Triangle Factory Fire, in whichfemale workers became trapped in the burning factoryresulting in 146 deaths and many more injuries,united Jewish women of different classes andbackgrounds. Leon Stein’s analysis of the tragic event’seffect on the labor movement, with particularemphasis paid to the immigrant women who hadworked and died in the factory, is an importantnarrative in the history of labor reform.5 Otherhistorians have focused their narratives on the effortsof Jewish women as they came together to form unionsacross the country. Gerald Sorin recounts the work ofRose Pesotta, a Jewish immigrant active in the

4 Dorothy Schneider and Carl J. Schneider, American Womenin the Progressive Era, 1900-1920 (New York: Anchor, 1994). 5 Leon Stein, The Triangle Fire (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UniversityPress, 1962).

38




garment trade union activities in California.6 Susan AGlenn provides a narrative of these issues by bringingtogether immigration, working-class life, the labormovement, and gender roles within the Jewishcommunity in her own analysis.7 Scholars have shownthat Jewish women played a significant role in thecreation of regulations to maintain employee safety aswell as to improve their way of life.

In addition to the scholarly research into Jewishwomen and labor reform, scholars have addressedJewish women championing of causes that arefrequently attributed to women of Protestant orCatholic background. One way of advocating for socialchange was through their own social clubs. Oftenfacing discrimination within Christian groups, Jewishwomen created their own communities which cametogether to form their own social organizations. Thelargest and most influential was the National Councilof Jewish Women (NCJW). Faith Rogow’s survey of theorganization’s first century in Gone to Another Meetingis a thorough account of a network of Jewish womenacross the United States.8 Rogow addresses theCouncil’s founding in 1893 while also examining itsagenda’s roots in both the burgeoning trend ofwomen’s clubs in the nineteenth century and the

6 Gerald Sorin, “Rose Pesotta in the Far West: The Triumphsand Travails of a Jewish Woman Labor Organizer,” WesternStates Jewish History 35, no. 3/4 (April 2003): 201-210. 7 Susan A. Glenn, Daughters of the Shtetl: Life and Labor inthe Immigrant Generation (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UniversityPublishing, 1990). 8 Faith Rogow, Gone to Another Meeting: The National Councilof Jewish Women, 1893-1993 (Tuscaloosa, AL: The University ofAlabama Press, 1993).


Progressive social reform agenda. In Jewish “JuniorLeague” (2008), Hollace Ava Weiner examines theefforts of the Fort Worth Council of Jewish Women toelevate their community within Fort Worth, where theyexperienced harsh anti-Semitism and felt estrangedfrom the dominant Protestant female social networksin the South.9 Weiner’s narrative is only one of manyclose-up looks at individual sectors of the NCJW. Fora comprehensive list of relevant books and articles, seeRogow, 289-290.

For Progressive women, public health reform wasa key issue in their efforts to make the U.S. a betterplace to live. Their goals were both to educate thepublic about the best ways to prevent the spread ofdisease in overcrowded cities and to provide routineservices to families and individuals who otherwisecould not afford them. Many Jewish women wereinvolved in the public health reform movement yet,with the exception of Lillian Wald, less has been saidabout how they as a community contributed to themovement on both a local and national level. Thispaper will connect the experiences of grassrootsactivists working on the local level and those definingthe policies of national organizations, using bothprimary and secondary sources. In one of the fewsecondary sources available related to public health,Susan Lee Abramson Mayer enriches nursing historyby identifying the role Jewish women played in thedevelopment of modern American nursing.10 Valuable

9 Hollace Ava Weiner, The Jewish Junior League: The Riseand Demise of the Fort Worth Council of Jewish Women (CollegeStation: Texas A&M University Press, 2008). 10 Susan Lee Abramson Mayer, The Jewish Experience inNursing in America, 1881 to 1955 (Ann Arbor: UMI, 1996).

39




garment trade union activities in California.6 Susan AGlenn provides a narrative of these issues by bringingtogether immigration, working-class life, the labormovement, and gender roles within the Jewishcommunity in her own analysis.7 Scholars have shownthat Jewish women played a significant role in thecreation of regulations to maintain employee safety aswell as to improve their way of life.

In addition to the scholarly research into Jewishwomen and labor reform, scholars have addressedJewish women championing of causes that arefrequently attributed to women of Protestant orCatholic background. One way of advocating for socialchange was through their own social clubs. Oftenfacing discrimination within Christian groups, Jewishwomen created their own communities which cametogether to form their own social organizations. Thelargest and most influential was the National Councilof Jewish Women (NCJW). Faith Rogow’s survey of theorganization’s first century in Gone to Another Meetingis a thorough account of a network of Jewish womenacross the United States.8 Rogow addresses theCouncil’s founding in 1893 while also examining itsagenda’s roots in both the burgeoning trend ofwomen’s clubs in the nineteenth century and the

6 Gerald Sorin, “Rose Pesotta in the Far West: The Triumphsand Travails of a Jewish Woman Labor Organizer,” WesternStates Jewish History 35, no. 3/4 (April 2003): 201-210. 7 Susan A. Glenn, Daughters of the Shtetl: Life and Labor inthe Immigrant Generation (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UniversityPublishing, 1990). 8 Faith Rogow, Gone to Another Meeting: The National Councilof Jewish Women, 1893-1993 (Tuscaloosa, AL: The University ofAlabama Press, 1993).


Progressive social reform agenda. In Jewish “JuniorLeague” (2008), Hollace Ava Weiner examines theefforts of the Fort Worth Council of Jewish Women toelevate their community within Fort Worth, where theyexperienced harsh anti-Semitism and felt estrangedfrom the dominant Protestant female social networksin the South.9 Weiner’s narrative is only one of manyclose-up looks at individual sectors of the NCJW. Fora comprehensive list of relevant books and articles, seeRogow, 289-290.

For Progressive women, public health reform wasa key issue in their efforts to make the U.S. a betterplace to live. Their goals were both to educate thepublic about the best ways to prevent the spread ofdisease in overcrowded cities and to provide routineservices to families and individuals who otherwisecould not afford them. Many Jewish women wereinvolved in the public health reform movement yet,with the exception of Lillian Wald, less has been saidabout how they as a community contributed to themovement on both a local and national level. Thispaper will connect the experiences of grassrootsactivists working on the local level and those definingthe policies of national organizations, using bothprimary and secondary sources. In one of the fewsecondary sources available related to public health,Susan Lee Abramson Mayer enriches nursing historyby identifying the role Jewish women played in thedevelopment of modern American nursing.10 Valuable

9 Hollace Ava Weiner, The Jewish Junior League: The Riseand Demise of the Fort Worth Council of Jewish Women (CollegeStation: Texas A&M University Press, 2008). 10 Susan Lee Abramson Mayer, The Jewish Experience inNursing in America, 1881 to 1955 (Ann Arbor: UMI, 1996).

40




works on Jewish voluntarism include analyses byArlene Kaplan Daniels11 and June Sochen.12 I will usea variety of primary sources, including writings byleaders in the field including Lillian Wald, HannahSolomon, and Naomi Deutsch. I will also rely on recordkept by organizations like the NCJW and settlementhouses that are available to the public, as well asnewspaper articles from the Los Angeles Times, theNew York Post, the New York Times, and the JewishAdvocate. The information shows that Jewish womenand their social organizations played an under-appreciated, but significant role in the fight for publichealth reform during the Progressive Era.

Feminist scholars have found that constructions ofgender cannot be understood apart from race. It isimpossible to understand the ways in which Jewishwomen engaged in health care reform without firstunderstanding the relationship between gender andJewish identity, which were further complicated byissues of class. Like their Christian counterparts,married Jewish women were viewed as belonging inthe home, and they were often regulated whenappearing in public settings. However, they were alsoseen as important economic and political actors withintheir families and communities. Husbands allowedtheir wives to handle the wages they brought home,giving their wives authority over income they were

11 Arlene Kaplan Daniels, Invisible Careers: Women CivicLeaders from the Volunteer World (Chicago: University of ChicagoPress, 1988). 12 June Sochen, “Some Observations on the Role of AmericanJewish Women as Communal Volunteers” in American JewishHistory 70 (September 1980): 23-24.


prohibited from earning themselves.13 Jewish womenalso played a public role organizing protests andboycotts against unfair landlords and corruptmerchants. According to scholar Paula Hyman, theseacts were part of their identity as Jewish mothers,responsible for protecting their families andcommunities.14 Women’s community activism linked tomotherhood was reflected in the Jewish community’sadvocacy of suffrage and support for Jewish feministagitation.15

A new wave of immigrants from Eastern Europeand Russia in the late nineteenth century, tended tobe poorer than their Western counterparts, most ofwhom had come to America from Germany andelsewhere in Western Europe a generation earlier. Theytook on the low-skill, low-wage jobs in urban factoriesand lived in the most crowded parts of the city. Unlikethe married women of an earlier time, the newimmigrant women, especially young single daughters,had to work outside the home, often becoming theprimary breadwinners for the family when their fathersand brothers struggled to find work. In addition, theylearned from their mothers how to assert theirinfluence outside the home in the economic andpolitical spheres, most often through unionizing andstrikes. Their mothers supported their aspirations to

13 Karen Brodkin, How Jews Became White Folks & WhatThat Says About Race in America (New Brunswick, New Jersey:Rutgers University Press, 1998) 125. 14 Paula E. Hyman, Gender and Assimilation in ModernJewish History: The Roles and Representations of Women(Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1995) 112. 15 Brodkin, 125.

41




works on Jewish voluntarism include analyses byArlene Kaplan Daniels11 and June Sochen.12 I will usea variety of primary sources, including writings byleaders in the field including Lillian Wald, HannahSolomon, and Naomi Deutsch. I will also rely on recordkept by organizations like the NCJW and settlementhouses that are available to the public, as well asnewspaper articles from the Los Angeles Times, theNew York Post, the New York Times, and the JewishAdvocate. The information shows that Jewish womenand their social organizations played an under-appreciated, but significant role in the fight for publichealth reform during the Progressive Era.

Feminist scholars have found that constructions ofgender cannot be understood apart from race. It isimpossible to understand the ways in which Jewishwomen engaged in health care reform without firstunderstanding the relationship between gender andJewish identity, which were further complicated byissues of class. Like their Christian counterparts,married Jewish women were viewed as belonging inthe home, and they were often regulated whenappearing in public settings. However, they were alsoseen as important economic and political actors withintheir families and communities. Husbands allowedtheir wives to handle the wages they brought home,giving their wives authority over income they were

11 Arlene Kaplan Daniels, Invisible Careers: Women CivicLeaders from the Volunteer World (Chicago: University of ChicagoPress, 1988). 12 June Sochen, “Some Observations on the Role of AmericanJewish Women as Communal Volunteers” in American JewishHistory 70 (September 1980): 23-24.


prohibited from earning themselves.13 Jewish womenalso played a public role organizing protests andboycotts against unfair landlords and corruptmerchants. According to scholar Paula Hyman, theseacts were part of their identity as Jewish mothers,responsible for protecting their families andcommunities.14 Women’s community activism linked tomotherhood was reflected in the Jewish community’sadvocacy of suffrage and support for Jewish feministagitation.15

A new wave of immigrants from Eastern Europeand Russia in the late nineteenth century, tended tobe poorer than their Western counterparts, most ofwhom had come to America from Germany andelsewhere in Western Europe a generation earlier. Theytook on the low-skill, low-wage jobs in urban factoriesand lived in the most crowded parts of the city. Unlikethe married women of an earlier time, the newimmigrant women, especially young single daughters,had to work outside the home, often becoming theprimary breadwinners for the family when their fathersand brothers struggled to find work. In addition, theylearned from their mothers how to assert theirinfluence outside the home in the economic andpolitical spheres, most often through unionizing andstrikes. Their mothers supported their aspirations to

13 Karen Brodkin, How Jews Became White Folks & WhatThat Says About Race in America (New Brunswick, New Jersey:Rutgers University Press, 1998) 125. 14 Paula E. Hyman, Gender and Assimilation in ModernJewish History: The Roles and Representations of Women(Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1995) 112. 15 Brodkin, 125.

42




create a better life.16 The Jewish community came toreject the contemporary ideals of American domesticityin favor of alternative measures of womanhood thatsupported women as wage earners, family managersand political citizens within and beyond theircommunities.17

This openness to public roles allowed Jewishwomen to enter the field of public health advocacy. ForJewish women interested in health reform, a sure wayof creating a career was through nursing school andthen working within target communities. During the1880s settlement houses were created to providerecreation, education, medical, and social serviceprograms for residents, especially immigrants inimpoverished neighborhoods. Many settlement houseswere founded by Christian social workers andbenefactors, such as Jane Addams’s Hull-House inChicago. Educated nurses and social workers lived inthe impoverished communities they served to easilyprovide direct services to their residents. The push tocreate support services in these communities extendedto Jewish women, who acted as benefactors,organizers, and administrators for Americansettlement houses.18 The work they did at the locallevel provided them with the knowledge and authorityto speak out on health issues.

Lillian Wald’s Henry Street Settlement was themost distinguished settlement founded by a Jewishwoman. Raised in Cincinnati, Ohio and laterRochester, New York in a prosperous German-Jewish

16 Ibid, 130. 17 Ibid, 131. 18 Rogow, 87.


family, Wald studied at the New York Hospital TrainingSchool for Nurses from 1889 to 1891. In 1893, sheenrolled in the Woman’s Medical College in New YorkCity where she had the opportunity to organize homenursing classes for immigrants on the Lower EastSide, where she claimed “ward work scarcely admittedfreedom for keeping informed as to what washappening in the world outside.”19 After the visit to thetenements that year, Wald pledged her life to publichealth nursing and reform, leaving medical school, andmoving with Mary Brewster to College Settlement onthe Lower East Side. Later, using funds contributed byElizabeth Loeb and Jacob Schiff, the two moved totheir own apartment and established the NursesSettlement at 265 Henry Street, in 1895.20 Waldenvisioned a team of nurses that would provide theirservices “on terms most considerate of the dignity andindependence of the patients.”21 They felt the work ofnurses should be taken as seriously as the work ofphysicians, with the nurses responding to calls frompatients at home. This distribution of services wherethey were most needed, regardless of connections witha religious institution, contrasted sharply with othervisiting nurse services, where the nurses were oftenassigned exclusively to assist one physician. The newprotocol required the nurses to have a more immediaterelationship with the patient, reversing the positionnurses traditionally held. Welcoming all groups ofimmigrants, both Jews and non-Jews, Wald did notthink of Henry Street as a Jewish-only settlement,

19 Wald, 2. 20 Rogow, 91. 21 Wald, 27.

43




create a better life.16 The Jewish community came toreject the contemporary ideals of American domesticityin favor of alternative measures of womanhood thatsupported women as wage earners, family managersand political citizens within and beyond theircommunities.17

This openness to public roles allowed Jewishwomen to enter the field of public health advocacy. ForJewish women interested in health reform, a sure wayof creating a career was through nursing school andthen working within target communities. During the1880s settlement houses were created to providerecreation, education, medical, and social serviceprograms for residents, especially immigrants inimpoverished neighborhoods. Many settlement houseswere founded by Christian social workers andbenefactors, such as Jane Addams’s Hull-House inChicago. Educated nurses and social workers lived inthe impoverished communities they served to easilyprovide direct services to their residents. The push tocreate support services in these communities extendedto Jewish women, who acted as benefactors,organizers, and administrators for Americansettlement houses.18 The work they did at the locallevel provided them with the knowledge and authorityto speak out on health issues.

Lillian Wald’s Henry Street Settlement was themost distinguished settlement founded by a Jewishwoman. Raised in Cincinnati, Ohio and laterRochester, New York in a prosperous German-Jewish

16 Ibid, 130. 17 Ibid, 131. 18 Rogow, 87.


family, Wald studied at the New York Hospital TrainingSchool for Nurses from 1889 to 1891. In 1893, sheenrolled in the Woman’s Medical College in New YorkCity where she had the opportunity to organize homenursing classes for immigrants on the Lower EastSide, where she claimed “ward work scarcely admittedfreedom for keeping informed as to what washappening in the world outside.”19 After the visit to thetenements that year, Wald pledged her life to publichealth nursing and reform, leaving medical school, andmoving with Mary Brewster to College Settlement onthe Lower East Side. Later, using funds contributed byElizabeth Loeb and Jacob Schiff, the two moved totheir own apartment and established the NursesSettlement at 265 Henry Street, in 1895.20 Waldenvisioned a team of nurses that would provide theirservices “on terms most considerate of the dignity andindependence of the patients.”21 They felt the work ofnurses should be taken as seriously as the work ofphysicians, with the nurses responding to calls frompatients at home. This distribution of services wherethey were most needed, regardless of connections witha religious institution, contrasted sharply with othervisiting nurse services, where the nurses were oftenassigned exclusively to assist one physician. The newprotocol required the nurses to have a more immediaterelationship with the patient, reversing the positionnurses traditionally held. Welcoming all groups ofimmigrants, both Jews and non-Jews, Wald did notthink of Henry Street as a Jewish-only settlement,

19 Wald, 2. 20 Rogow, 91. 21 Wald, 27.

44




although she depended on Jewish benefactors tosupport her work.

Worried that patients must be ashamed to receivecharity, Wald and Brewster charged those who couldafford to pay a small fee for their services. Their focuson providing services was always on those who neededthe most help. Wald recalled, most especially duringthe early days of the settlement, “how often payingpatients were set aside for more urgent non-payingones; the counsel freely given from the highest for thelowliest.”22 When a patient required treatment forwhich the nurse had not been trained, the settlementcalled upon physicians and surgeons to use theirexpertise, in some cases without compensation. TheHenry Street Settlement allowed for the creation of anetwork of doctors to work as “comrades” alongsidenurses who embraced their “common cause” approachto helping the impoverished.23 Their staff of nursesgrew from four to a contingent large enough to coverhouse calls from anywhere in Manhattan, withdivisions by district and specialty, such as theobstetrical staff.24 Among the patients treated at homeby the visiting nurses, recovery rates were greater thanthose treated in hospitals.

Programs like the Henry Street Settlement wouldnot have been possible without the trained nurses whodefied contemporary social norms to create a career forthemselves, and then dedicated their lives to workingin some of the most squalid communities. Early

22 Ibid, 30. 23 Ibid, 34. 24 Edward Marshall, “Good Metal in Our Melting Pot SaysMiss Wald,” New York Times, November 16, 1913


Jewish American nurses were pioneers at a time whenit was difficult to gain admission to training schoolswhich had strict requirements designated by nursingorganizations, and which also required nurses toregister as members. Early public health leadersduring this period include Lillian Wald, AmeliaGreenwald, Naomi Deutsch, and Regina Kaplan. EvenEmma Goldman, better known for her advocacy ofanarchism, received medical training and worked as anurse and midwife in the Lower East Side to helpsupport herself. Goldman proved not to be anespecially strong advocate for the settlementmovement.25

The training program for nursing students wasrigorous and made marriage and raising childrenimpossible for most women entering nursing school atthe age at which most women married. The decision toenter nursing meant choosing to have a career inpublic service over marriage. Marriage, a home andchildren were the ideal roles for all American women,especially those from a middle-class background whodid not have to work. For women entering aprofession, they felt they had a calling that could be asubstitute for a family. The responsibilities of workingin social work, in hospitals, and other health careprojects were seen as extending the mothering andnurturing role from the home, making this type ofwork a suitable calling for women. Another obstacle forJewish women to contend with was the discriminationin admissions to training schools for nurses. Many hadquotas designating how many students could be of

25 Evelyn Rose Benson, As We See Ourselves: Jewish Womenin Nursing (Indianapolis: Center Nursing Publishing, 2001) 68.

45




although she depended on Jewish benefactors tosupport her work.

Worried that patients must be ashamed to receivecharity, Wald and Brewster charged those who couldafford to pay a small fee for their services. Their focuson providing services was always on those who neededthe most help. Wald recalled, most especially duringthe early days of the settlement, “how often payingpatients were set aside for more urgent non-payingones; the counsel freely given from the highest for thelowliest.”22 When a patient required treatment forwhich the nurse had not been trained, the settlementcalled upon physicians and surgeons to use theirexpertise, in some cases without compensation. TheHenry Street Settlement allowed for the creation of anetwork of doctors to work as “comrades” alongsidenurses who embraced their “common cause” approachto helping the impoverished.23 Their staff of nursesgrew from four to a contingent large enough to coverhouse calls from anywhere in Manhattan, withdivisions by district and specialty, such as theobstetrical staff.24 Among the patients treated at homeby the visiting nurses, recovery rates were greater thanthose treated in hospitals.

Programs like the Henry Street Settlement wouldnot have been possible without the trained nurses whodefied contemporary social norms to create a career forthemselves, and then dedicated their lives to workingin some of the most squalid communities. Early

22 Ibid, 30. 23 Ibid, 34. 24 Edward Marshall, “Good Metal in Our Melting Pot SaysMiss Wald,” New York Times, November 16, 1913


Jewish American nurses were pioneers at a time whenit was difficult to gain admission to training schoolswhich had strict requirements designated by nursingorganizations, and which also required nurses toregister as members. Early public health leadersduring this period include Lillian Wald, AmeliaGreenwald, Naomi Deutsch, and Regina Kaplan. EvenEmma Goldman, better known for her advocacy ofanarchism, received medical training and worked as anurse and midwife in the Lower East Side to helpsupport herself. Goldman proved not to be anespecially strong advocate for the settlementmovement.25

The training program for nursing students wasrigorous and made marriage and raising childrenimpossible for most women entering nursing school atthe age at which most women married. The decision toenter nursing meant choosing to have a career inpublic service over marriage. Marriage, a home andchildren were the ideal roles for all American women,especially those from a middle-class background whodid not have to work. For women entering aprofession, they felt they had a calling that could be asubstitute for a family. The responsibilities of workingin social work, in hospitals, and other health careprojects were seen as extending the mothering andnurturing role from the home, making this type ofwork a suitable calling for women. Another obstacle forJewish women to contend with was the discriminationin admissions to training schools for nurses. Many hadquotas designating how many students could be of

25 Evelyn Rose Benson, As We See Ourselves: Jewish Womenin Nursing (Indianapolis: Center Nursing Publishing, 2001) 68.

46




Jewish descent. To receive training women often hadto attend Christian and Catholic schools where theywere forced to participate in religious activities, suchas reading the New Testament, which made many ofthem uncomfortable.26 Exceptions to these rulesexisted, like Mount Sinai Training School for Nurseswhich, as a nonsectarian institution, made efforts torecruit qualified Jewish girls. In their first year alonethey accepted thirty Jewish applicants.27

The requirements for entering nursing school couldbe demanding, especially for immigrant women.However, some were able to overcome theselimitations. Naomi Deutsch immigrated to Ohio withher family from Austria. She graduated from theJewish Hospital School of Nursing in 1912 and thenworked at the Irene Kauffman Settlement House inPittsburgh before receiving a B.S. from Teacher’sCollege. All the while she continued settlement workwith Henry Street.28 She became director of the SanFrancisco Visiting Nurse Association in 1925 andeventually became an assistant professor at UCBerkeley in charge of the public health nursingprogram.29 Deutsch, along with several of her peers,would go on to be very influential in shaping healthpolicy in America.

Public health work was not limited to urbancenters like New York City and San Francisco. ManyJewish women made a career in public service in thesouth and midwest, where rural communities required

26 Ibid, 64. 27 Ibid, 31. 28 Mayer, 125. 29 Ibid, 138.


similar support services to fulfill their own needs.Regina Kaplan was first in her graduating class oftwelve women at Mercy Hospital Training School forNurses in Denver, Colorado, in 1908, proceeding towork as a “private duty nurse.”30 Rejected from militaryservice during World War I because of her smallstature, she enrolled with the American Red Cross onJanuary 14, 1915.31 Kaplan worked for thirty-fiveyears as superintendent and administrator for Leo N.Levi Hospital in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Kaplanorganized and ran the hospital’s outpatientdispensary, an early forerunner to the modernemergency room that admitted all Hot Springsresidents. She set up the Hot Springs chapter of theRed Cross, which taught health education classes forhome nursing and first aid for men, women, andstudents. Kaplan also called for the hiring of the firstschool nurse for Hot Springs while also advocating forthe creation of a no-cost public health nursingprogram.32

The importance of nurses in reforming publichealth was illustrated by Josephine Goldmark inNursing and Nursing Education in the United States(1923), a report Goldmark oversaw for the Committeefor the Study of Nursing Education that was foundedby the Rockefeller foundation. Goldmark, secretary forthe committee and an accomplished social reformer inthe area of labor reform for women and children andwho worked on the Muller v. Oregon (1908) case withLouis Brandeis, reported that there was a great need

30 Mayer, 100. 31 Ibid. 32 Benson, 77.

47




Jewish descent. To receive training women often hadto attend Christian and Catholic schools where theywere forced to participate in religious activities, suchas reading the New Testament, which made many ofthem uncomfortable.26 Exceptions to these rulesexisted, like Mount Sinai Training School for Nurseswhich, as a nonsectarian institution, made efforts torecruit qualified Jewish girls. In their first year alonethey accepted thirty Jewish applicants.27

The requirements for entering nursing school couldbe demanding, especially for immigrant women.However, some were able to overcome theselimitations. Naomi Deutsch immigrated to Ohio withher family from Austria. She graduated from theJewish Hospital School of Nursing in 1912 and thenworked at the Irene Kauffman Settlement House inPittsburgh before receiving a B.S. from Teacher’sCollege. All the while she continued settlement workwith Henry Street.28 She became director of the SanFrancisco Visiting Nurse Association in 1925 andeventually became an assistant professor at UCBerkeley in charge of the public health nursingprogram.29 Deutsch, along with several of her peers,would go on to be very influential in shaping healthpolicy in America.

Public health work was not limited to urbancenters like New York City and San Francisco. ManyJewish women made a career in public service in thesouth and midwest, where rural communities required

26 Ibid, 64. 27 Ibid, 31. 28 Mayer, 125. 29 Ibid, 138.


similar support services to fulfill their own needs.Regina Kaplan was first in her graduating class oftwelve women at Mercy Hospital Training School forNurses in Denver, Colorado, in 1908, proceeding towork as a “private duty nurse.”30 Rejected from militaryservice during World War I because of her smallstature, she enrolled with the American Red Cross onJanuary 14, 1915.31 Kaplan worked for thirty-fiveyears as superintendent and administrator for Leo N.Levi Hospital in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Kaplanorganized and ran the hospital’s outpatientdispensary, an early forerunner to the modernemergency room that admitted all Hot Springsresidents. She set up the Hot Springs chapter of theRed Cross, which taught health education classes forhome nursing and first aid for men, women, andstudents. Kaplan also called for the hiring of the firstschool nurse for Hot Springs while also advocating forthe creation of a no-cost public health nursingprogram.32

The importance of nurses in reforming publichealth was illustrated by Josephine Goldmark inNursing and Nursing Education in the United States(1923), a report Goldmark oversaw for the Committeefor the Study of Nursing Education that was foundedby the Rockefeller foundation. Goldmark, secretary forthe committee and an accomplished social reformer inthe area of labor reform for women and children andwho worked on the Muller v. Oregon (1908) case withLouis Brandeis, reported that there was a great need

30 Mayer, 100. 31 Ibid. 32 Benson, 77.

48




for both more intense training of nurses and anemphasis on public health as part of their training.The report also endorsed an increase in the number oftrained nurses to “50,000 public health nurses toserve the population of the United States,—as against11,000 now in the field”, as the shortage of nurseswas “the largest outstanding problem before the healthadministrator of the present day.”33 The committee’sfindings prompted significant changes to nursingeducation, including the establishment of the YaleUniversity School of Nursing where public health wasemphasized in its curriculum.34

Though some Jewish women like Wald, Deutsch,and Goldmark chose to pursue a professional career inservice at the expense of starting a family, most Jewishwomen conformed to the societal expectation to marryyoung and start a family. Jewish women who were notwilling to give up on their traditional duties as wivesand mothers soon found other ways to participateoutside the home through women’s socialorganizations. Middle-class white women had for yearsformed various secular clubs as venues for women tosocialize and practice philanthropy. Those frommiddle-class families, like Hannah G. Solomon, weregranted entry to prestigious organizations like theChicago Woman’s Club, although admittance of Jewishwomen in general remained low. As a member of themost prominent Reform synagogue, Temple Sinai inChicago, Solomon was part of a strong and influential

33 Josephine Goldmark, “Report of a Survey” in Nursing andNursing Education in the United States: Committee for theStudy of Nursing Education (New York: MacMillan Company,1923), 8. 34 Benson, 68.


middle-class community strongly committed to Jewishlife.35 Known around both the Jewish community andthe secular women’s group networks, Solomonappeared to be the clear favorite to chair the JewishWomen’s Committee during the 1893 World’sColumbian Exposition in Chicago. Solomon made thedecision to move the meeting from the Women’sBuilding and instead convene the group of Jewishwomen as part of the World Parliament of Religions atthe exhibition.36 The four-day Jewish Women’sCongress discussed the possibilities of creating anational Jewish women’s organization. The congressconcluded with the founding of the National Council ofJewish Women and election of Hannah Solomon as thefounding president.37

NCJW study circles epitomized the Council’smethod of adapting an American practice to fit thecircumstances of a Jewish organization. Theyborrowed the structures of literary clubs popular withProtestant, upper-class women, simply replacingliterature discussions with analyses of Jewish textsand topics. The NCJW study circles distinguishedthemselves from Protestant and secular groupsbecause they offered Jewish women the first chance toexamine their religious background on a deeper level.They also gave women an opportunity to engage inreligious debate from which they were previouslyprohibited, as scholarly religious study was limited to

35 Hannah G. Solomon, Fabric of My Life: The Autobiographyof Hannah G. Solomon (New York: Bloch Publishing Company,1946), 42-44. 36 Ibid, 79-100 37 Ibid, 86.

49




for both more intense training of nurses and anemphasis on public health as part of their training.The report also endorsed an increase in the number oftrained nurses to “50,000 public health nurses toserve the population of the United States,—as against11,000 now in the field”, as the shortage of nurseswas “the largest outstanding problem before the healthadministrator of the present day.”33 The committee’sfindings prompted significant changes to nursingeducation, including the establishment of the YaleUniversity School of Nursing where public health wasemphasized in its curriculum.34

Though some Jewish women like Wald, Deutsch,and Goldmark chose to pursue a professional career inservice at the expense of starting a family, most Jewishwomen conformed to the societal expectation to marryyoung and start a family. Jewish women who were notwilling to give up on their traditional duties as wivesand mothers soon found other ways to participateoutside the home through women’s socialorganizations. Middle-class white women had for yearsformed various secular clubs as venues for women tosocialize and practice philanthropy. Those frommiddle-class families, like Hannah G. Solomon, weregranted entry to prestigious organizations like theChicago Woman’s Club, although admittance of Jewishwomen in general remained low. As a member of themost prominent Reform synagogue, Temple Sinai inChicago, Solomon was part of a strong and influential

33 Josephine Goldmark, “Report of a Survey” in Nursing andNursing Education in the United States: Committee for theStudy of Nursing Education (New York: MacMillan Company,1923), 8. 34 Benson, 68.


middle-class community strongly committed to Jewishlife.35 Known around both the Jewish community andthe secular women’s group networks, Solomonappeared to be the clear favorite to chair the JewishWomen’s Committee during the 1893 World’sColumbian Exposition in Chicago. Solomon made thedecision to move the meeting from the Women’sBuilding and instead convene the group of Jewishwomen as part of the World Parliament of Religions atthe exhibition.36 The four-day Jewish Women’sCongress discussed the possibilities of creating anational Jewish women’s organization. The congressconcluded with the founding of the National Council ofJewish Women and election of Hannah Solomon as thefounding president.37

NCJW study circles epitomized the Council’smethod of adapting an American practice to fit thecircumstances of a Jewish organization. Theyborrowed the structures of literary clubs popular withProtestant, upper-class women, simply replacingliterature discussions with analyses of Jewish textsand topics. The NCJW study circles distinguishedthemselves from Protestant and secular groupsbecause they offered Jewish women the first chance toexamine their religious background on a deeper level.They also gave women an opportunity to engage inreligious debate from which they were previouslyprohibited, as scholarly religious study was limited to

35 Hannah G. Solomon, Fabric of My Life: The Autobiographyof Hannah G. Solomon (New York: Bloch Publishing Company,1946), 42-44. 36 Ibid, 79-100 37 Ibid, 86.

50




male scholars.38

Clubwomen were a major influence in the NCJW’searly years, as some pre-existing groups only had totransform from sewing groups into NCJW sections.However, a second minority group would prove to beinfluential in the development of goals for the NCJW.Characterized by women like Sadie American and JuliaFelsenthal, who played major roles at the founding ofNCJW, these women tended to be younger and singlein comparison to their clubwomen counterparts. Manyof them had received training and were employed associal workers. While older members raised money tocover operating costs of the settlement houses, onlyoccasionally organizing programs there, the youngwomen staffed the settlement houses on a regularbasis.39 For the young workers, simply belonging to agroup was not enough; they wanted to utilize theconnections and networks they created to effectchange through service to the community. They wereresponsible for guiding the NCJW along a more activepath that emphasized giving back to the immigrantJewish community over creating incentives formembers.

Local chapters of the NCJW found different ways toexpress their philanthropy, with some focusing onimproving health and wellness. For some, this meantfounding their own settlement houses or raisingmoney for others within their community. In New York,the NCJW worked closely with Lillian Wald, a memberof the organization, to support her efforts throughvolunteerism and financial assistance. Many younger

38 Rogow, 54-60. 39 Ibid, 92.


women received training in social work as part of theeffort to provide legitimate and scientific aid to thecommunities that needed it.

Much of the focus of other chapters was onpreventing future health problems through educationand wellness programs. On February 13, 1913, the LosAngeles chapter of the NCJW opened the Ida StraussNursery for the children of working mothers. The goalof the nursery was to “lighten the burden of motherswho are compelled to labor in the factories, laundriesand shops.” A ten-cent fee provided a child with milk,and children considered “unkempt” would be bathedand given clean clothes.40 The nursery project servedtwo key purposes: it provided low-cost child care tohelp working mothers, while also teaching them howto properly raise and care for their children. To thelatter goal, the providing baths and clothes wasconsidered a lesson to working-class mothers. Thesemothers, many of whom were immigrants, had to betaught American norms and expectations regardingcleanliness and dress. The nursery projectdemonstrated broader trends in women's public healthreform work. The NCJW, which had put its initial focuson maintaining Judaism among Americanized women,shifted to focus on social reforms after debates overproper religious observance split the group at its 1913convention.41 The NCJW and its Los Angeles chapterjoined thousands of others in taking women's

40 Los Angeles Section Yearbook, 1913-1914, as quoted byJudith Aronson, “The National Council of Jewish Women: Astudy of the Los Angeles Section in Transition,” in Speaking ofFaith, ed. Diana L. Eck and Devaki Jain (London: Women’sPress, 1986), 184-89. 41 Rogow, 126.

51




male scholars.38

Clubwomen were a major influence in the NCJW’searly years, as some pre-existing groups only had totransform from sewing groups into NCJW sections.However, a second minority group would prove to beinfluential in the development of goals for the NCJW.Characterized by women like Sadie American and JuliaFelsenthal, who played major roles at the founding ofNCJW, these women tended to be younger and singlein comparison to their clubwomen counterparts. Manyof them had received training and were employed associal workers. While older members raised money tocover operating costs of the settlement houses, onlyoccasionally organizing programs there, the youngwomen staffed the settlement houses on a regularbasis.39 For the young workers, simply belonging to agroup was not enough; they wanted to utilize theconnections and networks they created to effectchange through service to the community. They wereresponsible for guiding the NCJW along a more activepath that emphasized giving back to the immigrantJewish community over creating incentives formembers.

Local chapters of the NCJW found different ways toexpress their philanthropy, with some focusing onimproving health and wellness. For some, this meantfounding their own settlement houses or raisingmoney for others within their community. In New York,the NCJW worked closely with Lillian Wald, a memberof the organization, to support her efforts throughvolunteerism and financial assistance. Many younger

38 Rogow, 54-60. 39 Ibid, 92.


women received training in social work as part of theeffort to provide legitimate and scientific aid to thecommunities that needed it.

Much of the focus of other chapters was onpreventing future health problems through educationand wellness programs. On February 13, 1913, the LosAngeles chapter of the NCJW opened the Ida StraussNursery for the children of working mothers. The goalof the nursery was to “lighten the burden of motherswho are compelled to labor in the factories, laundriesand shops.” A ten-cent fee provided a child with milk,and children considered “unkempt” would be bathedand given clean clothes.40 The nursery project servedtwo key purposes: it provided low-cost child care tohelp working mothers, while also teaching them howto properly raise and care for their children. To thelatter goal, the providing baths and clothes wasconsidered a lesson to working-class mothers. Thesemothers, many of whom were immigrants, had to betaught American norms and expectations regardingcleanliness and dress. The nursery projectdemonstrated broader trends in women's public healthreform work. The NCJW, which had put its initial focuson maintaining Judaism among Americanized women,shifted to focus on social reforms after debates overproper religious observance split the group at its 1913convention.41 The NCJW and its Los Angeles chapterjoined thousands of others in taking women's

40 Los Angeles Section Yearbook, 1913-1914, as quoted byJudith Aronson, “The National Council of Jewish Women: Astudy of the Los Angeles Section in Transition,” in Speaking ofFaith, ed. Diana L. Eck and Devaki Jain (London: Women’sPress, 1986), 184-89. 41 Rogow, 126.

52




traditional care-taking roles from the home into thebroader world of immigrant aid and public healthreform.

At the Ninth Triennial Convention in 1920, Dr.Luba Robin Goldsmith reported on the activities of the“Sub-Committee on Social Hygiene,” which held theresponsibility of identifying needs and which directedprograms that included “any activity dealing with theproblems of physical, mental and moral health asaffecting the individual, family, community ornation.”42 The most successful programs providededucational services; these included meetings andclasses each designed to reach a specific audienceincluding men, married women, single young women,and children. Each group was taught “the fundamentalprinciples of Health, Right Living and the Single MoralStandard in a clear, scientific and popular manner.”43

The Sisterhoods of Personal Service represented animportant group within the network of Jewish socialwelfare organizations which had a basis withinsynagogues. Founded in 1890 in response to the influxof immigrants in New York City, the Sisterhoodsprovided a variety of vocational, educational, andsocial programs for their benefit. Though eachsisterhood carried out its welfare on their own termsand assisting in established settlement houses, manyopened their own offices in the communities they hadbeen assigned to, and some established their ownsettlement houses. Sisterhood settlement houses

42 Dr. Luba R. Goldsmith, “Report--Sub-Committee on SocialHygiene,” in Official Report of the Ninth Triennial Convention,(1920), 153-54. 43 Ibid, 154.


offered an array of services including English andcitizenship classes for adults, housekeeping andoccupational sewing classes for women, kindergartensand daycares for the children of working mothers, andrecreational activities such as opportunities for bothchildren and adults to spend summer vacation outsideof the cramped, urban environment.44

The Sisterhoods of Personal Service drew on thecontemporary tradition of women’s charity withinAmerican synagogues. In addition, they modeledthemselves on the popular middle and upper-classProtestant women’s groups formed earlier in thenineteenth century. Inspired by the idea that womenheld responsibility to uplift the moral standing ofsociety, antebellum Jewish women had formed “ladies’benevolent or aid” societies that offered financialassistance to their synagogues and the impoverishedJewish community.45

The push for wellness went beyond just educatingwomen; many Progressives saw a need for betterrecreational activities, especially for children, as theability for children to play would improve both theirphysical and mental health. Arthur Colt Holden, aProgressive reformer, argued that recreation andrelaxation would create better citizens.46 Sport andphysical culture adapted to issues of gender and classin the Progressive Era as the expectations forrecreation were passed on to immigrant women.

44 Hannah Einstein, “The Federation of Sisterhoods,”Twenty-Fifth Annual Report of the United Hebrew Charities(1899) 134. 45 Ibid, 135. 46 Arthur Colt Holden, The Settlement Idea: A Vision of SocialJustice, (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1922), 50.

53




traditional care-taking roles from the home into thebroader world of immigrant aid and public healthreform.

At the Ninth Triennial Convention in 1920, Dr.Luba Robin Goldsmith reported on the activities of the“Sub-Committee on Social Hygiene,” which held theresponsibility of identifying needs and which directedprograms that included “any activity dealing with theproblems of physical, mental and moral health asaffecting the individual, family, community ornation.”42 The most successful programs providededucational services; these included meetings andclasses each designed to reach a specific audienceincluding men, married women, single young women,and children. Each group was taught “the fundamentalprinciples of Health, Right Living and the Single MoralStandard in a clear, scientific and popular manner.”43

The Sisterhoods of Personal Service represented animportant group within the network of Jewish socialwelfare organizations which had a basis withinsynagogues. Founded in 1890 in response to the influxof immigrants in New York City, the Sisterhoodsprovided a variety of vocational, educational, andsocial programs for their benefit. Though eachsisterhood carried out its welfare on their own termsand assisting in established settlement houses, manyopened their own offices in the communities they hadbeen assigned to, and some established their ownsettlement houses. Sisterhood settlement houses

42 Dr. Luba R. Goldsmith, “Report--Sub-Committee on SocialHygiene,” in Official Report of the Ninth Triennial Convention,(1920), 153-54. 43 Ibid, 154.


offered an array of services including English andcitizenship classes for adults, housekeeping andoccupational sewing classes for women, kindergartensand daycares for the children of working mothers, andrecreational activities such as opportunities for bothchildren and adults to spend summer vacation outsideof the cramped, urban environment.44

The Sisterhoods of Personal Service drew on thecontemporary tradition of women’s charity withinAmerican synagogues. In addition, they modeledthemselves on the popular middle and upper-classProtestant women’s groups formed earlier in thenineteenth century. Inspired by the idea that womenheld responsibility to uplift the moral standing ofsociety, antebellum Jewish women had formed “ladies’benevolent or aid” societies that offered financialassistance to their synagogues and the impoverishedJewish community.45

The push for wellness went beyond just educatingwomen; many Progressives saw a need for betterrecreational activities, especially for children, as theability for children to play would improve both theirphysical and mental health. Arthur Colt Holden, aProgressive reformer, argued that recreation andrelaxation would create better citizens.46 Sport andphysical culture adapted to issues of gender and classin the Progressive Era as the expectations forrecreation were passed on to immigrant women.

44 Hannah Einstein, “The Federation of Sisterhoods,”Twenty-Fifth Annual Report of the United Hebrew Charities(1899) 134. 45 Ibid, 135. 46 Arthur Colt Holden, The Settlement Idea: A Vision of SocialJustice, (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1922), 50.

54




Reformers believed that physical recreation couldoffset the negative consequences of unsanitary urbanconditions, and physical exercise was seen as theanswer.

El Nido camp was originally created by the LosAngeles Section of the NCJW. The group hadadvocated the establishment of a Children's Bureau inLos Angeles in 1925 and three years later built a campand residential center for underprivileged and “pre-tubercular” girls in Laurel Canyon.47 In addition toproviding basic health services, the facility was used asa recreation camp during the summer “for poor girlswho otherwise would have no vacation.”48 Chair Mrs.Albert Eschner and the rest of the Los Angeles NCJWraised the funds that enabled the camp to stay openyear round and treat and house 1000 girls within thefirst five years.49 The El Nido camp was just oneexample of recreational facilities created by Jewishwomen and community organizations. The Council ofJewish Juniors in Washington, D.C. raised money forthe Dorothy Goldsmith Camp Fund, which theyestablished to send needy children to camp during thesummer months.50 Emma Blumenthal, a prominent

47 According to Dr. J. Hilgard Tyndale, “pre-tubercular”described the condition of pretubercular as the period before thedevelopment of lesions identifiable as tuberculosis, caused by“an impoverished nutrition.” Tyndale, “The Pre-TubercularCondition,” in Transactions of the American Clinical andClimatological Association Meeting (1891, 8), 180-183. 48 “Jewish Women to Fete Leader of Girls’ Camp,” LosAngeles Times, April 2, 1933, pg. B5. 49 Ibid.

50 “Council of Jewish Juniors to Close Season With Dance,”

The Washington Post, May 24, 1936, pg. F5.


philanthropist in San Francisco co-directed CampKelowa for boys and Camp Singing Trail for girls withher husband Louis in the 1930s. Both Louis andEmma were engaged with issues relating to youth,camping, child health, and social work, with Louis co-founding the Jewish Community Center in SanFrancisco and Emma serving as associate director.

In 1902, Jewish women in Bella Unterberg’s homein New York founded the Young Women’s HebrewAssociation (YWHA), a sister organization to the YoungMen’s Hebrew Association (YMHA). The YWHA wasdedicated to the social and spiritual uplift of youngJewish women. Their goal was to “establish aninstitution akin in character to the YMHA butcombining therewith features of a religious andspiritualizing tendencies.”51 The specific Jewishidentity of the YWHA set it apart from the YMHA,which had both male and female members participatein the settlement movement for many years. While theYMHA observed Jewish traditions and sought topreserve their Jewish identity, the guiding principleswere rooted in Americanism rather than Judaism. Atthe turn of the century, many Jewish womenchallenged these principles and created their versionof settlement houses as a positive force for enhancingJewish life. Their rebelliousness was part of a backlashagainst the tendency to assimilate, and was also partof the movement of, as superintendent Sophia Bergerexplained to the Jewish Advocate, “preserving the

51 Israel and Bella Unterberg--A Personal and CommunalRecord, quoted in David Kaufman, “The YMHA as a JewishCenter.” In “ ‘Shul with a Pool’: The Synagogue Center inAmerican Jewish Life, 1875–1925.” Ph.D. diss., BrandeisUniversity, 1994, 145.

55




Reformers believed that physical recreation couldoffset the negative consequences of unsanitary urbanconditions, and physical exercise was seen as theanswer.

El Nido camp was originally created by the LosAngeles Section of the NCJW. The group hadadvocated the establishment of a Children's Bureau inLos Angeles in 1925 and three years later built a campand residential center for underprivileged and “pre-tubercular” girls in Laurel Canyon.47 In addition toproviding basic health services, the facility was used asa recreation camp during the summer “for poor girlswho otherwise would have no vacation.”48 Chair Mrs.Albert Eschner and the rest of the Los Angeles NCJWraised the funds that enabled the camp to stay openyear round and treat and house 1000 girls within thefirst five years.49 The El Nido camp was just oneexample of recreational facilities created by Jewishwomen and community organizations. The Council ofJewish Juniors in Washington, D.C. raised money forthe Dorothy Goldsmith Camp Fund, which theyestablished to send needy children to camp during thesummer months.50 Emma Blumenthal, a prominent

47 According to Dr. J. Hilgard Tyndale, “pre-tubercular”described the condition of pretubercular as the period before thedevelopment of lesions identifiable as tuberculosis, caused by“an impoverished nutrition.” Tyndale, “The Pre-TubercularCondition,” in Transactions of the American Clinical andClimatological Association Meeting (1891, 8), 180-183. 48 “Jewish Women to Fete Leader of Girls’ Camp,” LosAngeles Times, April 2, 1933, pg. B5. 49 Ibid.

50 “Council of Jewish Juniors to Close Season With Dance,”

The Washington Post, May 24, 1936, pg. F5.


philanthropist in San Francisco co-directed CampKelowa for boys and Camp Singing Trail for girls withher husband Louis in the 1930s. Both Louis andEmma were engaged with issues relating to youth,camping, child health, and social work, with Louis co-founding the Jewish Community Center in SanFrancisco and Emma serving as associate director.

In 1902, Jewish women in Bella Unterberg’s homein New York founded the Young Women’s HebrewAssociation (YWHA), a sister organization to the YoungMen’s Hebrew Association (YMHA). The YWHA wasdedicated to the social and spiritual uplift of youngJewish women. Their goal was to “establish aninstitution akin in character to the YMHA butcombining therewith features of a religious andspiritualizing tendencies.”51 The specific Jewishidentity of the YWHA set it apart from the YMHA,which had both male and female members participatein the settlement movement for many years. While theYMHA observed Jewish traditions and sought topreserve their Jewish identity, the guiding principleswere rooted in Americanism rather than Judaism. Atthe turn of the century, many Jewish womenchallenged these principles and created their versionof settlement houses as a positive force for enhancingJewish life. Their rebelliousness was part of a backlashagainst the tendency to assimilate, and was also partof the movement of, as superintendent Sophia Bergerexplained to the Jewish Advocate, “preserving the

51 Israel and Bella Unterberg--A Personal and CommunalRecord, quoted in David Kaufman, “The YMHA as a JewishCenter.” In “ ‘Shul with a Pool’: The Synagogue Center inAmerican Jewish Life, 1875–1925.” Ph.D. diss., BrandeisUniversity, 1994, 145.

56




essential Jewishness of our people. As Jews we wantto save our Judaism. As Jews we bring these girls inhere that they may find shelter and help and find, too,the God of their fathers.”52 The YWHA included asynagogue that held weekly services and Bible Studyas well as classes in Hebrew and Jewish history.53

The YWHA offered more than just religious servicesand Hebrew classes. After its eight story facility on110th street was completed, the New York YWHA wasdescribed as “the only large institution of its kind inAmerica.... Besides being a most comfortable home forone hundred and seventy girls, the building is also atrue center for the communal interests of theneighborhood” which offered job and language skilltraining as well as a “completely equipped moderngymnasium and swimming pool.”54 Athletic classes insports such as swimming, tennis, fencing, and avariety of popular dance classes were offered in the cityfacility. The YWHA additionally sponsored summercamping trips which included hiking, canoeing, and allother types of sports and recreation activities. The roofof the center was used during the summer for a daycare program for “anemic and cardiac children, andthe children of poor families.”55 The YWHA providedemployment services for young women in need of jobs,

52 “For the Young Women’s Hebrew Association of New York,”Jewish Advocate 16:2 (March 15, 1912), 1. 53 I.E. Goldwasser, “The Work of Young Men’s Hebrew andKindred Associations in New York City,” Jewish CommunalRegister (1917), 479. 54 "Hows and Whys of Big Burg's Y's: 110th Street Y.W.H.A.Has Most Comprehensive Physical Education System of Type inEntire Country," New York Post, January 17, 1936. 55 Ibid.


and cooperated with many war relief efforts duringWorld War I.56

The Council of Young Men’s and KindredAssociations (CYMHKA) was organized as YWHAactivity spread across the country, resulting in themerging of YWHAs and YMHA counterparts. In 1921,the Jewish Welfare Board (JWB) absorbed theCYMHKA, with the ultimate goal of forming “all-inclusive Jewish community centers.”57 Independentchapters of the YWHA were pressured to merge withtheir brother associations to form YM-YWHAs from1921 to 1923.58 The original New York chapter of theYWHA resisted and maintained their independenceuntil 1942, when the building on 110th Street wasleased to be used as army barracks. They moved theiractivities to the YMHA building on 92nd Street, wherethey officially merged with the YMHA three years later,and were subsequently reincorporated as the YoungMen’s and Young Women’s Hebrew Association.59

The experience Jewish women gained from theirsocial work, whether they were nurses, volunteers, oradministrators within social groups gave themlegitimacy in larger associations exploring how toimprove general public health. Lillian Waldparticipated in many campaigns to improve publichealth and expand the practices conceived at HenryStreet. Wald’s visiting nurse program was sosuccessful in reducing casualties that it was expandedaround the U.S. as more public health organizations

56 Goldwasser, 475. 57 Kaufman, 198. 58 Ibid. 59 Ibid.

57




essential Jewishness of our people. As Jews we wantto save our Judaism. As Jews we bring these girls inhere that they may find shelter and help and find, too,the God of their fathers.”52 The YWHA included asynagogue that held weekly services and Bible Studyas well as classes in Hebrew and Jewish history.53

The YWHA offered more than just religious servicesand Hebrew classes. After its eight story facility on110th street was completed, the New York YWHA wasdescribed as “the only large institution of its kind inAmerica.... Besides being a most comfortable home forone hundred and seventy girls, the building is also atrue center for the communal interests of theneighborhood” which offered job and language skilltraining as well as a “completely equipped moderngymnasium and swimming pool.”54 Athletic classes insports such as swimming, tennis, fencing, and avariety of popular dance classes were offered in the cityfacility. The YWHA additionally sponsored summercamping trips which included hiking, canoeing, and allother types of sports and recreation activities. The roofof the center was used during the summer for a daycare program for “anemic and cardiac children, andthe children of poor families.”55 The YWHA providedemployment services for young women in need of jobs,

52 “For the Young Women’s Hebrew Association of New York,”Jewish Advocate 16:2 (March 15, 1912), 1. 53 I.E. Goldwasser, “The Work of Young Men’s Hebrew andKindred Associations in New York City,” Jewish CommunalRegister (1917), 479. 54 "Hows and Whys of Big Burg's Y's: 110th Street Y.W.H.A.Has Most Comprehensive Physical Education System of Type inEntire Country," New York Post, January 17, 1936. 55 Ibid.


and cooperated with many war relief efforts duringWorld War I.56

The Council of Young Men’s and KindredAssociations (CYMHKA) was organized as YWHAactivity spread across the country, resulting in themerging of YWHAs and YMHA counterparts. In 1921,the Jewish Welfare Board (JWB) absorbed theCYMHKA, with the ultimate goal of forming “all-inclusive Jewish community centers.”57 Independentchapters of the YWHA were pressured to merge withtheir brother associations to form YM-YWHAs from1921 to 1923.58 The original New York chapter of theYWHA resisted and maintained their independenceuntil 1942, when the building on 110th Street wasleased to be used as army barracks. They moved theiractivities to the YMHA building on 92nd Street, wherethey officially merged with the YMHA three years later,and were subsequently reincorporated as the YoungMen’s and Young Women’s Hebrew Association.59

The experience Jewish women gained from theirsocial work, whether they were nurses, volunteers, oradministrators within social groups gave themlegitimacy in larger associations exploring how toimprove general public health. Lillian Waldparticipated in many campaigns to improve publichealth and expand the practices conceived at HenryStreet. Wald’s visiting nurse program was sosuccessful in reducing casualties that it was expandedaround the U.S. as more public health organizations

56 Goldwasser, 475. 57 Kaufman, 198. 58 Ibid. 59 Ibid.

58




and settlement houses relied on “visiting nurses” as asignificant method of providing health care to thosewho could not afford it. Wald also conceived of theFederal Children's Bureau in 1905 which shecampaigned for constantly. After it was established in1912, she commented that it was “a great step forwardin social welfare.”60 The bureau served an additionalpurpose in providing a political voice for the coalitionof female reformers who served on the board and, aswomen, concurrently held no official right to vote orotherwise exercise any political power, and for Wald, itwas “a symbol of the most hopeful aspect ofAmerica...its existence is enormously significant.”61

Her work on the Federal Children’s Bureau was justone of her many roles on committees dedicated tosocial reform, as well as developing standards for thetraining and practice of public health nursing,including the Committee for the Study of NursingEducation and the National Organization of PublicHealth Nurses.62

Many other Jewish women served important rolesin health organizations outside the Jewish community.Naomi Deutsch worked with numerous otherorganizations, including the American Association ofSocial Workers, the American Nurses Association andthe National Conference of Social Workers. She alsoserved on the board for the California State NursesAssociation and the National Organization of PublicHealth Nursing for various periods and was presidentof the California State Organization for Public Health

60 Wald, The American City. June 1912, p 847. 61 Wald, The House on Henry Street, 167. 62 Benson, 51.


Nursing. Her most prominent position came about in1935 when Deutsch was appointed director of publichealth nursing for the U.S Children’s Bureau, a jobthat carried much responsibility yet also allowedDeutsch to play a major role in the development ofnursing as part of the Social Security Act of 1935.63

Regina Kaplan was also involved in the AmericanNurses Association as well as the Arkansas andColorado State Nurses Associations. From 1945-46,Kaplan served as vice- president of the AmericanHospital Association and sat on the board of trusteesfor Arkansas Blue Cross after urging Levi Hospital toparticipate with them. Kaplan’s work with hospitals asa means to promote public health led to herparticipation in many professional organizations thatheld influence over how American hospitals wereoperated.64

The influence of social clubs often reached beyondthe meetings of singular communities. Accomplishedclub members translated their experience to respectedpositions within the movement, working with esteemedorganizations to further the movement. Dr. Goldsmithand Constance Sporborg represented the NCJW at theannual meeting of the American Health Association,which provided literature to local chapters interestedin matters related to health. Goldsmith was alsoappointed to the International Conference of WomenPhysicians and Convention of Delegates from NationalWomen’s Organizations, which she described as “oneof the most important and far-reaching steps in the

63 Benson, 66. 64 Mayer, 101.

59




and settlement houses relied on “visiting nurses” as asignificant method of providing health care to thosewho could not afford it. Wald also conceived of theFederal Children's Bureau in 1905 which shecampaigned for constantly. After it was established in1912, she commented that it was “a great step forwardin social welfare.”60 The bureau served an additionalpurpose in providing a political voice for the coalitionof female reformers who served on the board and, aswomen, concurrently held no official right to vote orotherwise exercise any political power, and for Wald, itwas “a symbol of the most hopeful aspect ofAmerica...its existence is enormously significant.”61

Her work on the Federal Children’s Bureau was justone of her many roles on committees dedicated tosocial reform, as well as developing standards for thetraining and practice of public health nursing,including the Committee for the Study of NursingEducation and the National Organization of PublicHealth Nurses.62

Many other Jewish women served important rolesin health organizations outside the Jewish community.Naomi Deutsch worked with numerous otherorganizations, including the American Association ofSocial Workers, the American Nurses Association andthe National Conference of Social Workers. She alsoserved on the board for the California State NursesAssociation and the National Organization of PublicHealth Nursing for various periods and was presidentof the California State Organization for Public Health

60 Wald, The American City. June 1912, p 847. 61 Wald, The House on Henry Street, 167. 62 Benson, 51.


Nursing. Her most prominent position came about in1935 when Deutsch was appointed director of publichealth nursing for the U.S Children’s Bureau, a jobthat carried much responsibility yet also allowedDeutsch to play a major role in the development ofnursing as part of the Social Security Act of 1935.63

Regina Kaplan was also involved in the AmericanNurses Association as well as the Arkansas andColorado State Nurses Associations. From 1945-46,Kaplan served as vice- president of the AmericanHospital Association and sat on the board of trusteesfor Arkansas Blue Cross after urging Levi Hospital toparticipate with them. Kaplan’s work with hospitals asa means to promote public health led to herparticipation in many professional organizations thatheld influence over how American hospitals wereoperated.64

The influence of social clubs often reached beyondthe meetings of singular communities. Accomplishedclub members translated their experience to respectedpositions within the movement, working with esteemedorganizations to further the movement. Dr. Goldsmithand Constance Sporborg represented the NCJW at theannual meeting of the American Health Association,which provided literature to local chapters interestedin matters related to health. Goldsmith was alsoappointed to the International Conference of WomenPhysicians and Convention of Delegates from NationalWomen’s Organizations, which she described as “oneof the most important and far-reaching steps in the

63 Benson, 66. 64 Mayer, 101.

60




consideration of Social Hygiene Problems.”65

Public health reform adopted many formsthroughout the United States in the early twentiethcentury, and the Jewish women who took part in thismovement represented the full spectrum of activitiesand goals of the Progressives. Lillian Wald, ReginaKaplan, and Naomi Deutsch embraced the ideals thatallowed them to pursue a career in nursing, which forthem and many other women became a lifelong questto improve the health care and health education theirclients received. Though many more young Jewishwomen would move on to raise families and toparticipate in alternative roles, women like Wald,Kaplan, and Deutsch represent those who gainedenough prominence to directly influence policydecisions through their placements on institutionaland government committees and organizations.

Social clubs created by Jewish women played animportant role in providing both young single womenand married wives and mothers an opportunity tocontribute their time, skills, and financial resources toproviding services they saw a need for. These includednot only support for existing settlement houses, butalso programs run entirely by the clubs themselves,like day nurseries and wellness camps for children andeducational programs for families. Their efforts toimprove the quality of life for lower-class citizens wasreminiscent of other Progressive reforms whichfocused on the leaders telling their clients what theythought was best for them. Records of these programsindicate that thousands of children and adultsparticipated in these programs across the country. The

65 Goldsmith, 155.


women running the organizations were motivated byboth secular and religious thought which encouragedwomen to become involved within the community morefrequently and more efficiently by receiving training insocial work.

The contributions of Jewish women in the field ofpublic health were influential in not only creating localprograms, but also in advancing the push for publichealth on a broader scale. The work they did toimprove their own communities gave them theknowledge and experience that enabled them toparticipate in committees and professionalorganizations, where they could implement changes toofficial policy related to public health and healthcare. As many had hoped, these women’s efforts wouldcontinue generations later in new and evolving forms,as Jewish women contributed through healthcare workand philanthropy towards better welfare in general andin particular in the second half of the twentiethcentury.

Jessica Talavera-Rauh is a United States historyand sociology double major. She is also a member of PhiAlpha Theta and Alpha Kappa Delta. This paper waspresented at the Northern California Phi Alpha ThetaConference. After graduating in June 2013, Jessicaplans on pursuing a career in the legal field.

61




consideration of Social Hygiene Problems.”65

Public health reform adopted many formsthroughout the United States in the early twentiethcentury, and the Jewish women who took part in thismovement represented the full spectrum of activitiesand goals of the Progressives. Lillian Wald, ReginaKaplan, and Naomi Deutsch embraced the ideals thatallowed them to pursue a career in nursing, which forthem and many other women became a lifelong questto improve the health care and health education theirclients received. Though many more young Jewishwomen would move on to raise families and toparticipate in alternative roles, women like Wald,Kaplan, and Deutsch represent those who gainedenough prominence to directly influence policydecisions through their placements on institutionaland government committees and organizations.

Social clubs created by Jewish women played animportant role in providing both young single womenand married wives and mothers an opportunity tocontribute their time, skills, and financial resources toproviding services they saw a need for. These includednot only support for existing settlement houses, butalso programs run entirely by the clubs themselves,like day nurseries and wellness camps for children andeducational programs for families. Their efforts toimprove the quality of life for lower-class citizens wasreminiscent of other Progressive reforms whichfocused on the leaders telling their clients what theythought was best for them. Records of these programsindicate that thousands of children and adultsparticipated in these programs across the country. The

65 Goldsmith, 155.


women running the organizations were motivated byboth secular and religious thought which encouragedwomen to become involved within the community morefrequently and more efficiently by receiving training insocial work.

The contributions of Jewish women in the field ofpublic health were influential in not only creating localprograms, but also in advancing the push for publichealth on a broader scale. The work they did toimprove their own communities gave them theknowledge and experience that enabled them toparticipate in committees and professionalorganizations, where they could implement changes toofficial policy related to public health and healthcare. As many had hoped, these women’s efforts wouldcontinue generations later in new and evolving forms,as Jewish women contributed through healthcare workand philanthropy towards better welfare in general andin particular in the second half of the twentiethcentury.

Jessica Talavera-Rauh is a United States historyand sociology double major. She is also a member of PhiAlpha Theta and Alpha Kappa Delta. This paper waspresented at the Northern California Phi Alpha ThetaConference. After graduating in June 2013, Jessicaplans on pursuing a career in the legal field.

62



“Need for Alarm” 55

“Need for Alarm”: The San Francisco Calland the Chronicle Cover the 1900-1904Bubonic Plague

Guy Marzorati

All the Golden State’s major players were on thetrain hurtling across the country to Washington. There were executives from the Southern PacificRailroad (the heads of Frank Norris’ famed “Octopus”),the president of the shipbuilding conglomerate UnionIron Works, and, most conspicuously, the publishersof San Francisco’s leading newspapers. The group hadbeen sent by California Governor Henry Gage to lobbythe Treasury Secretary Lyman Gage, Surgeon GeneralWalter Wyman, and President William McKinley tosuppress a report by a federal commission confirmingthe existence of bubonic plague in San Francisco.1 Plague was bad for business, and it was the businessinterests of the city which were aboard the train, notthose concerned with the deaths that had resultedfrom the disease thus far. Ten days after the groupsped to the nation’s capital, however, news of thissecret meeting was leaked by the Sacramento Bee,whose headline declared: “Infamous Compact Signedby Wyman: Makes Agreement with Gage Not to LetFacts Become Known Contrary to Federal Law.”2 The

1 Guenter B. Risse, Plague, Fear, and Politics in SanFrancisco’s Chinatown (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UniversityPress, 2012), 172. 2 “Infamous Compact Signed by Wyman,” Sacramento Bee,March 16, 1901.


fact that the Bee was the paper to publish theirfindings was telling, for honest reporting on thepolitical workings of the crisis was not be found in SanFrancisco’s principal publications.

Exactly one year before the governor’s men traveledto Washington, on the afternoon of March 6, 1900,bubonic plague was found on the corpse of Wong ChutKing. King was a single lumber salesman who lived inthe basement of the Globe Hotel in San Francisco’sbustling Chinatown. The news of the pestilence senttremors through San Francisco’s medical community,but it was not entirely unexpected. The year before,the dreaded disease had hit Honolulu’s Chinatown. Health officials tried to isolate the plague-infectedhouses and burn them down, but the fire accidentlyspread and burned down all of Chinatown. The firewas given front-page coverage in the Chronicle,although most Caucasian San Franciscans doubtedthat a malady thought to be of tropical origin wouldland in their city.3 When plague did arrive in SanFrancisco (the first ever case in the continental UnitedStates), the city’s health officials reacted quickly,placing a rope around Chinatown to create an effectivequarantine. After no further cases were found in theensuing days, the quarantine was lifted. JosephKinyoun, the federal quarantine officer stationed atAngel Island, was ridiculed for his prematureannouncement of plague, as was the San FranciscoBoard of Health. A week later, both officials’ worstfears were confirmed.

3 Marilyn Chase, The Barbary Plague (New York: RandomHouse, 2003), 12; “Honolulu Swept by a Great Fire,” SanFrancisco Chronicle, Feb. 1st, 1900.

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“Need for Alarm”: The San Francisco Calland the Chronicle Cover the 1900-1904Bubonic Plague

Guy Marzorati

All the Golden State’s major players were on thetrain hurtling across the country to Washington. There were executives from the Southern PacificRailroad (the heads of Frank Norris’ famed “Octopus”),the president of the shipbuilding conglomerate UnionIron Works, and, most conspicuously, the publishersof San Francisco’s leading newspapers. The group hadbeen sent by California Governor Henry Gage to lobbythe Treasury Secretary Lyman Gage, Surgeon GeneralWalter Wyman, and President William McKinley tosuppress a report by a federal commission confirmingthe existence of bubonic plague in San Francisco.1 Plague was bad for business, and it was the businessinterests of the city which were aboard the train, notthose concerned with the deaths that had resultedfrom the disease thus far. Ten days after the groupsped to the nation’s capital, however, news of thissecret meeting was leaked by the Sacramento Bee,whose headline declared: “Infamous Compact Signedby Wyman: Makes Agreement with Gage Not to LetFacts Become Known Contrary to Federal Law.”2 The

1 Guenter B. Risse, Plague, Fear, and Politics in SanFrancisco’s Chinatown (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UniversityPress, 2012), 172. 2 “Infamous Compact Signed by Wyman,” Sacramento Bee,March 16, 1901.


fact that the Bee was the paper to publish theirfindings was telling, for honest reporting on thepolitical workings of the crisis was not be found in SanFrancisco’s principal publications.

Exactly one year before the governor’s men traveledto Washington, on the afternoon of March 6, 1900,bubonic plague was found on the corpse of Wong ChutKing. King was a single lumber salesman who lived inthe basement of the Globe Hotel in San Francisco’sbustling Chinatown. The news of the pestilence senttremors through San Francisco’s medical community,but it was not entirely unexpected. The year before,the dreaded disease had hit Honolulu’s Chinatown. Health officials tried to isolate the plague-infectedhouses and burn them down, but the fire accidentlyspread and burned down all of Chinatown. The firewas given front-page coverage in the Chronicle,although most Caucasian San Franciscans doubtedthat a malady thought to be of tropical origin wouldland in their city.3 When plague did arrive in SanFrancisco (the first ever case in the continental UnitedStates), the city’s health officials reacted quickly,placing a rope around Chinatown to create an effectivequarantine. After no further cases were found in theensuing days, the quarantine was lifted. JosephKinyoun, the federal quarantine officer stationed atAngel Island, was ridiculed for his prematureannouncement of plague, as was the San FranciscoBoard of Health. A week later, both officials’ worstfears were confirmed.

3 Marilyn Chase, The Barbary Plague (New York: RandomHouse, 2003), 12; “Honolulu Swept by a Great Fire,” SanFrancisco Chronicle, Feb. 1st, 1900.

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When three more plague deaths were discovered inChinatown on March 15, 17, and 18, the city had acrisis on its hands. Chinatown was placed back underquarantine, and, in May, federal officials enacted a banon the travel of Chinese and Japanese unless they hadproof of receiving the Haffkine vaccination, a recentlydeveloped vaccine for the plague. Legal action takenby the Chinese Six Companies (a protectiveorganization founded to assist Chinese immigrants)ended the travel restrictions, and later, the quarantine,which had weaved around white residences and storesin a clear violation of the 14th amendment assuringequal protection. By the beginning of 1901, twenty-one San Franciscans had died of bubonic plague,nineteen of whom were Chinese. In January, SurgeonGeneral Wyman attempted to break through themedical and political intransigence by appointing threenationally-renowned medical experts to determinewhether the deaths of the past nine months wereindeed from bubonic plague. Like Kinyoun and theSan Francisco Board of Health before him, the officialsconfirmed the existence of plague and prepared toreport back to Wyman. When Governor Gage got wordof the findings, he immediately called on his friends inindustry and the press to contest the conclusions inWashington, and further enshroud the existence ofplague in doubt.

San Francisco’s Turn of the Century Press

The beginning of the twentieth century was athriving period of newspaper journalism in SanFrancisco. Four major English-language dailiesexisted: the morning Chronicle and Examiner, and the


evening Call and Bulletin. In addition, the city washome to special interest and foreign language papers,including the pro-union Organized Labor, and therecently founded Chung Sai Yat Po. This study willexamine the San Francisco Call and San FranciscoChronicle’s coverage of the plague. These two papersrepresented the Republican business interests of thecity. The Chronicle was owned by M.H. de Young, andbrought a strong Republican bias. From the beginningof the outbreak, it declared that the finding of plaguewas nothing but a scam, on the part of Democraticmayor James Phelan and his health board, to justifymore spending. The Call was published by sugarbaron John D. Spreckles, and it represented theinterests of those in Spreckle’s class, though withmore flash than the Chronicle.

Other papers provided a variety of political andcultural perspectives on the plague. The flashiest of allwas William Randolph Hearst’s Examiner. The paperset the standard for yellow journalism, and certainlyapproached its plague coverage with sensation inmind. However, because it was Democratic-leaning, itdid not oppose the early actions of Mayor Phelan andhis health board. According to Guenter Risse in hisaccount of the crisis, Fremont Older’s Bulletin providedmore conservative, anti-Chinese coverage, while theSacramento Bee was able to provide less bias in itsreporting, perhaps due to its distance from SanFrancisco political and business interests.4 Finally,Chung Sai Yat Po, or the Chinese Western Daily, wasfounded in 1900 by Ng Poon Chew, who sought toestablish a reliable Chinese newspaper that would

4 Risse, 115.

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When three more plague deaths were discovered inChinatown on March 15, 17, and 18, the city had acrisis on its hands. Chinatown was placed back underquarantine, and, in May, federal officials enacted a banon the travel of Chinese and Japanese unless they hadproof of receiving the Haffkine vaccination, a recentlydeveloped vaccine for the plague. Legal action takenby the Chinese Six Companies (a protectiveorganization founded to assist Chinese immigrants)ended the travel restrictions, and later, the quarantine,which had weaved around white residences and storesin a clear violation of the 14th amendment assuringequal protection. By the beginning of 1901, twenty-one San Franciscans had died of bubonic plague,nineteen of whom were Chinese. In January, SurgeonGeneral Wyman attempted to break through themedical and political intransigence by appointing threenationally-renowned medical experts to determinewhether the deaths of the past nine months wereindeed from bubonic plague. Like Kinyoun and theSan Francisco Board of Health before him, the officialsconfirmed the existence of plague and prepared toreport back to Wyman. When Governor Gage got wordof the findings, he immediately called on his friends inindustry and the press to contest the conclusions inWashington, and further enshroud the existence ofplague in doubt.

San Francisco’s Turn of the Century Press

The beginning of the twentieth century was athriving period of newspaper journalism in SanFrancisco. Four major English-language dailiesexisted: the morning Chronicle and Examiner, and the


evening Call and Bulletin. In addition, the city washome to special interest and foreign language papers,including the pro-union Organized Labor, and therecently founded Chung Sai Yat Po. This study willexamine the San Francisco Call and San FranciscoChronicle’s coverage of the plague. These two papersrepresented the Republican business interests of thecity. The Chronicle was owned by M.H. de Young, andbrought a strong Republican bias. From the beginningof the outbreak, it declared that the finding of plaguewas nothing but a scam, on the part of Democraticmayor James Phelan and his health board, to justifymore spending. The Call was published by sugarbaron John D. Spreckles, and it represented theinterests of those in Spreckle’s class, though withmore flash than the Chronicle.

Other papers provided a variety of political andcultural perspectives on the plague. The flashiest of allwas William Randolph Hearst’s Examiner. The paperset the standard for yellow journalism, and certainlyapproached its plague coverage with sensation inmind. However, because it was Democratic-leaning, itdid not oppose the early actions of Mayor Phelan andhis health board. According to Guenter Risse in hisaccount of the crisis, Fremont Older’s Bulletin providedmore conservative, anti-Chinese coverage, while theSacramento Bee was able to provide less bias in itsreporting, perhaps due to its distance from SanFrancisco political and business interests.4 Finally,Chung Sai Yat Po, or the Chinese Western Daily, wasfounded in 1900 by Ng Poon Chew, who sought toestablish a reliable Chinese newspaper that would

4 Risse, 115.

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inform Chinatown residents of happenings both inChina and America. During the hysteria, Chew’spaper would play an important role in opposingpunitive health measures against the residents ofChinatown.

Misleading Coverage

In examining reporting and editorials of theChronicle and Call, it can be concluded that the twopapers’ coverage was not only misleading, but it alsoignored an effective medical and political response tothe plague. As Republican publications, both papersused crisis as a chance to score political points on theDemocratic mayor James Phelan and his appointedhealth board. The science behind bubonic plague wasstill not completely clear to everyday journalists in1900, and newspapers took advantage of that fact toquestion medical authorities at every turn. Worst ofall, the papers failed to report on any actual deaths,saving their column space to deny the existence of thedisease, and to make life difficult for the city’s medicalprofessionals. By forcing public health officials toprove the existence of the plague when such existencehad already been established beyond reasonabledoubt, and calling into question the person reputationof the health officials, local newspapers hindered theefforts to end the pestilence. While the race of themostly-Chinese victims might have played a role in thecoverage, a more likely conclusion is that these papersand their editorial boards simply wanted to continuebusiness as usual, and believed that denying theplague was the most effective way to do so.


Historiography

The bubonic disease that ran through SanFrancisco in the first four years of the twentiethcentury has been covered by historians from manyangles. This is because the crisis falls under medical,racial, and political history. Two books have beenwritten on the subject of the plague. Marilyn Chase’sdramatic account, The Barbary Plague, looks at thecrisis through the experiences of the two federalquarantine officers who were charged with ending theoutbreak. Joseph Kinyoun eventually was chased outof town by Governor Gage and the local press, whilehis successor, Rupert Blue, “would succeed to becomethe top physician in the land” after overseeing the endof the 1900 plague and its reoccurrence in 1907.5 InGuenter B. Risse’s Plague, Fear, and Politics in SanFrancisco’s Chinatown, the plague is put into thecontext of the Chinese immigrants who were dyingfrom it. It is from Risse’s account that this paper getsits death totals for the plague. Both sources relyheavily on the primary source newspaper accountsthat this study will be analyzing.

Other sources have addressed theplague in the course of longer studies, or have writtenabout San Francisco’s turn-of-the-century journalism. Yumei Sun’s graduate thesis, “From Isolation toParticipation,” covers the history of Chung Sai Yat Poand its influential publisher Ng Poon Chew, but it only

5Chase, 4.

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inform Chinatown residents of happenings both inChina and America. During the hysteria, Chew’spaper would play an important role in opposingpunitive health measures against the residents ofChinatown.

Misleading Coverage

In examining reporting and editorials of theChronicle and Call, it can be concluded that the twopapers’ coverage was not only misleading, but it alsoignored an effective medical and political response tothe plague. As Republican publications, both papersused crisis as a chance to score political points on theDemocratic mayor James Phelan and his appointedhealth board. The science behind bubonic plague wasstill not completely clear to everyday journalists in1900, and newspapers took advantage of that fact toquestion medical authorities at every turn. Worst ofall, the papers failed to report on any actual deaths,saving their column space to deny the existence of thedisease, and to make life difficult for the city’s medicalprofessionals. By forcing public health officials toprove the existence of the plague when such existencehad already been established beyond reasonabledoubt, and calling into question the person reputationof the health officials, local newspapers hindered theefforts to end the pestilence. While the race of themostly-Chinese victims might have played a role in thecoverage, a more likely conclusion is that these papersand their editorial boards simply wanted to continuebusiness as usual, and believed that denying theplague was the most effective way to do so.


Historiography

The bubonic disease that ran through SanFrancisco in the first four years of the twentiethcentury has been covered by historians from manyangles. This is because the crisis falls under medical,racial, and political history. Two books have beenwritten on the subject of the plague. Marilyn Chase’sdramatic account, The Barbary Plague, looks at thecrisis through the experiences of the two federalquarantine officers who were charged with ending theoutbreak. Joseph Kinyoun eventually was chased outof town by Governor Gage and the local press, whilehis successor, Rupert Blue, “would succeed to becomethe top physician in the land” after overseeing the endof the 1900 plague and its reoccurrence in 1907.5 InGuenter B. Risse’s Plague, Fear, and Politics in SanFrancisco’s Chinatown, the plague is put into thecontext of the Chinese immigrants who were dyingfrom it. It is from Risse’s account that this paper getsits death totals for the plague. Both sources relyheavily on the primary source newspaper accountsthat this study will be analyzing.

Other sources have addressed theplague in the course of longer studies, or have writtenabout San Francisco’s turn-of-the-century journalism. Yumei Sun’s graduate thesis, “From Isolation toParticipation,” covers the history of Chung Sai Yat Poand its influential publisher Ng Poon Chew, but it only

5Chase, 4.

68




briefly mentions the paper’s role during the plague.6 Another source providing background on SanFrancisco’s journalism is Jules Becker’s study of thecoverage the Chronicle and Examiner gave to Asiansfrom 1882-1924.7 This study provides no mention ofthe plague, and instead focuses mainly on editorialsrelating to various exclusion acts. Discussing themedia coverage of the plague can be further informedby simultaneous racial and medical storylines. Charles McClain discusses the legal activism ofChinatown residents during the plague, and SusanChaddock frames the plague against the backdrop ofadvancing medicine, as well as San Francisco’s ownhistory of disease.8 This study will rely primarily onthe archives of the Call and Chronicle, as well as theaforementioned secondary sources and othersdetailing the lives of the paper’s publishers, M.H. deYoung and John D. Spreckles.

The deYoung Brothers and the Chronicle

By the turn of the century, the Chronicle held itsplace as the Republican paper with more conservativetastes. The paper’s early years, however, were far

6 Yumei Sun, “From Isolation to Participation, ‘Chung SaiYat Po’ (China West Daily) and San Francisco’s Chinatown,1900-1920,” (College Park: University of Maryland, 1999), 1-144. 7 Jules Becker, The Course of Exclusion, 1882-1924 (SanFrancisco: Mellen Research University Press, 1991). 8 Charles McClain, In Search of Equality: The ChineseStruggle Against Discrimination in Nineteenth-Century America(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), 234-276; SusanCraddock, City of Plagues (Minneapolis: University of MinnesotaPress, 2000), 124-160.


more reminiscent of the Hearst-style journalismemployed by the rival Examiner. Owned and operatedby the de Young family since 1865, at the time of theplague the paper was headed by Michael Henry deYoung. M.H. de Young served as business managerunder his brother Charles, and the two ran the paperin the late nineteenth century, exemplifying the rowdynature of San Francisco in those years. The paper,originally known as the Dramatic Chronicle, quicklycaused a stir in the city, and showed a willingness topublish inflammatory gossip and then take on theensuing libel cases in court.9

When put in the context of the de Young brothers’activities in the 1870’s, the jabs taken at the dailypapers in the plague crisis seem relatively tame. In1871, a county commissioner upset with theChronicle’s campaign against a municipal judge’s re-election, beat M.H. de Young with a cane and a pistolin a billiards hall until Charles came to the rescue. Inanother case, Benjamin Napthaly, an ex-Chroniclereporter, started his own paper and published insultsof the de Young’s mother and sister. The brothersresponded by appearing in the upstart paper’snewsroom with loaded guns. When Napthaly was laterjailed for an altercation with the youngest de Youngbrother Gustavus, Charles and M.H. entered the CityPrison and opened fire on Napthaly.10 Theconfrontational brand of journalism practiced by thede Young family abruptly ended when the son of SanFrancisco’s mayor, Isaac M. Kalloch, responded to the

9 Irving McKee, “The Shooting of Charles de Young,” ThePacific Historical Review 16, (1947): 275-276. 10 Ibid., 277-278.

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briefly mentions the paper’s role during the plague.6 Another source providing background on SanFrancisco’s journalism is Jules Becker’s study of thecoverage the Chronicle and Examiner gave to Asiansfrom 1882-1924.7 This study provides no mention ofthe plague, and instead focuses mainly on editorialsrelating to various exclusion acts. Discussing themedia coverage of the plague can be further informedby simultaneous racial and medical storylines. Charles McClain discusses the legal activism ofChinatown residents during the plague, and SusanChaddock frames the plague against the backdrop ofadvancing medicine, as well as San Francisco’s ownhistory of disease.8 This study will rely primarily onthe archives of the Call and Chronicle, as well as theaforementioned secondary sources and othersdetailing the lives of the paper’s publishers, M.H. deYoung and John D. Spreckles.

The deYoung Brothers and the Chronicle

By the turn of the century, the Chronicle held itsplace as the Republican paper with more conservativetastes. The paper’s early years, however, were far

6 Yumei Sun, “From Isolation to Participation, ‘Chung SaiYat Po’ (China West Daily) and San Francisco’s Chinatown,1900-1920,” (College Park: University of Maryland, 1999), 1-144. 7 Jules Becker, The Course of Exclusion, 1882-1924 (SanFrancisco: Mellen Research University Press, 1991). 8 Charles McClain, In Search of Equality: The ChineseStruggle Against Discrimination in Nineteenth-Century America(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), 234-276; SusanCraddock, City of Plagues (Minneapolis: University of MinnesotaPress, 2000), 124-160.


more reminiscent of the Hearst-style journalismemployed by the rival Examiner. Owned and operatedby the de Young family since 1865, at the time of theplague the paper was headed by Michael Henry deYoung. M.H. de Young served as business managerunder his brother Charles, and the two ran the paperin the late nineteenth century, exemplifying the rowdynature of San Francisco in those years. The paper,originally known as the Dramatic Chronicle, quicklycaused a stir in the city, and showed a willingness topublish inflammatory gossip and then take on theensuing libel cases in court.9

When put in the context of the de Young brothers’activities in the 1870’s, the jabs taken at the dailypapers in the plague crisis seem relatively tame. In1871, a county commissioner upset with theChronicle’s campaign against a municipal judge’s re-election, beat M.H. de Young with a cane and a pistolin a billiards hall until Charles came to the rescue. Inanother case, Benjamin Napthaly, an ex-Chroniclereporter, started his own paper and published insultsof the de Young’s mother and sister. The brothersresponded by appearing in the upstart paper’snewsroom with loaded guns. When Napthaly was laterjailed for an altercation with the youngest de Youngbrother Gustavus, Charles and M.H. entered the CityPrison and opened fire on Napthaly.10 Theconfrontational brand of journalism practiced by thede Young family abruptly ended when the son of SanFrancisco’s mayor, Isaac M. Kalloch, responded to the

9 Irving McKee, “The Shooting of Charles de Young,” ThePacific Historical Review 16, (1947): 275-276. 10 Ibid., 277-278.

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negative attacks the Chronicle had made on his fatherby shooting and killing Charles de Young. After thedeath of his brother, M.H de Young took over theoperation of the Chronicle, and tried to avoid any kindof violent scandal, perhaps because he did not havehis older brother to protect him from physical attacks. Instead, M.H. de Young relied on his business skill. Heremained the publisher of the Chronicle for forty-fiveyears and expanded the paper’s circulation andpolitical influence.11 That is not to say he avoidedpolitics altogether. In fact, DeYoung ran for senate in1892, and served as both a delegate in the RepublicanNational Conventions of 1888 and 1892, and as thevice-chairman of the Republican National Committeefor four years.12 Not only was deYoung willing to usethe Chronicle to wage political battles, but as theplague crisis revealed, he was able to insert himselfinto the battle as a key player.

Spreckels and the Call

John D. Spreckels, publisher of the Call, stayed outof the San Francisco gossip circuit, but, like de Young,he was a major player in California Republicanpolitics. The son of Hawaiian sugar magnate ClausSpreckels, John followed his father and made hisriches in sugar refining. In 1887, Spreckels visitedSan Diego and fell in love with the city. In fact, hewould spend most of the rest his life developing thedeserted outpost into a commercial metropolis.

11 Ibid., 283. 12 Who’s Who in America, Vol. 13, 1924-1925 (Chicago: A.N.Marquis & Company, 1924), 958.


Spreckels also spent time on the San Franciscopolitical scene, colluding with local Democratic bossChris Buckley in a possible attempt to elect Samuel M.Shortridge to the U.S. Senate.13 As the years went by,Spreckels’ attention became increasingly divided, as hefocused on financing the San Diego and ArizonaRailway, building up San Diego’s downtown andinfrastructure, and establishing two papers in SanDiego, The Union and The Tribune, eventually bringingthe Call’s managing editor down to run The Union.14 Spreckels would manage the Call during the plaguecrisis, much as de Young had done, by putting thebusiness interests of the city first. When the city wasput under quarantine for a second time in June of1900, Spreckels traveled to the RepublicanConvention, and attempted to convince PresidentMcKinley to undo the state-ordered quarantine.15 Sowhile de Young and Spreckels shared editorial views,their paper’s coverage of events must be put into thecontext of the rivalry the publishers shared.

As two of the most powerful Republicans in SanFrancisco, M.H. de Young and John D. Spreckelsdoubtlessly crossed paths on numerous occasions. Themost noteworthy event involved Spreckels brotherAdolph, who shot M.H. de Young in 1884 in responseto negative articles the Chronicle had ran about Claus

13 William A. Bullough, “The Steam Beer Handicap: ChrisBuckley and the San Francisco Municipal Election of 1896,”California Historical Quarterly 54, no. 3 (Fall, 1975): 247. 14 Austin Adams, The Man: John D. Spreckels (San Diego:Frye & Smith, 1924), 206. 15 “California Up in Arms Against the Kinyoun QuarantineOutrage,” San Francisco Call, June 18, 1900.

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negative attacks the Chronicle had made on his fatherby shooting and killing Charles de Young. After thedeath of his brother, M.H de Young took over theoperation of the Chronicle, and tried to avoid any kindof violent scandal, perhaps because he did not havehis older brother to protect him from physical attacks. Instead, M.H. de Young relied on his business skill. Heremained the publisher of the Chronicle for forty-fiveyears and expanded the paper’s circulation andpolitical influence.11 That is not to say he avoidedpolitics altogether. In fact, DeYoung ran for senate in1892, and served as both a delegate in the RepublicanNational Conventions of 1888 and 1892, and as thevice-chairman of the Republican National Committeefor four years.12 Not only was deYoung willing to usethe Chronicle to wage political battles, but as theplague crisis revealed, he was able to insert himselfinto the battle as a key player.

Spreckels and the Call

John D. Spreckels, publisher of the Call, stayed outof the San Francisco gossip circuit, but, like de Young,he was a major player in California Republicanpolitics. The son of Hawaiian sugar magnate ClausSpreckels, John followed his father and made hisriches in sugar refining. In 1887, Spreckels visitedSan Diego and fell in love with the city. In fact, hewould spend most of the rest his life developing thedeserted outpost into a commercial metropolis.

11 Ibid., 283. 12 Who’s Who in America, Vol. 13, 1924-1925 (Chicago: A.N.Marquis & Company, 1924), 958.


Spreckels also spent time on the San Franciscopolitical scene, colluding with local Democratic bossChris Buckley in a possible attempt to elect Samuel M.Shortridge to the U.S. Senate.13 As the years went by,Spreckels’ attention became increasingly divided, as hefocused on financing the San Diego and ArizonaRailway, building up San Diego’s downtown andinfrastructure, and establishing two papers in SanDiego, The Union and The Tribune, eventually bringingthe Call’s managing editor down to run The Union.14 Spreckels would manage the Call during the plaguecrisis, much as de Young had done, by putting thebusiness interests of the city first. When the city wasput under quarantine for a second time in June of1900, Spreckels traveled to the RepublicanConvention, and attempted to convince PresidentMcKinley to undo the state-ordered quarantine.15 Sowhile de Young and Spreckels shared editorial views,their paper’s coverage of events must be put into thecontext of the rivalry the publishers shared.

As two of the most powerful Republicans in SanFrancisco, M.H. de Young and John D. Spreckelsdoubtlessly crossed paths on numerous occasions. Themost noteworthy event involved Spreckels brotherAdolph, who shot M.H. de Young in 1884 in responseto negative articles the Chronicle had ran about Claus

13 William A. Bullough, “The Steam Beer Handicap: ChrisBuckley and the San Francisco Municipal Election of 1896,”California Historical Quarterly 54, no. 3 (Fall, 1975): 247. 14 Austin Adams, The Man: John D. Spreckels (San Diego:Frye & Smith, 1924), 206. 15 “California Up in Arms Against the Kinyoun QuarantineOutrage,” San Francisco Call, June 18, 1900.

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Spreckels’ sugar empire.16 The two publishers alsoapparently had gotten uncomfortably close in thepolitical arena. Franklin Hichborn writes that in 1899,both de Young and Spreckels attempted to put theirhat in the ring to be California’s senator, at that timechosen by state legislatures. Both had been promisedselection by the Republican machine, but to theirmutual surprise, the publishers watched the machineformally come out in support of Colonel Daniel M.Burns.17 The rivalry continued between the two in thestreets of downtown San Francisco. After the de Youngfamily had built the first steel-frame skyscraper in theWest for the Chronicle headquarters, the Spreckelsresponded with a nineteen-story tower on Market andThird Street.18 Editorially, however, these twofinancial giants agreed that the plague threatened thegood business name of their city. Moreover, they bothagreed that the plague should be deniedwholeheartedly, and that the Democratic Phelanadministration should become the daily victim in thepress. More alarming was the willingness by the twopublisher-barons to use their influence to make suretheir no-plague narrative was told.

Plague Coverage of the Chronicle and Call

While the two papers shared editorial motives, theirstyle and presentation was somewhat different. Devoidof colorful illustrations, the Chronicle was marketed as

16 McKee, 283. 17 Franklin Hichborn, “The Party, the Machine, and the Vote:The Story of Cross-Filing in California Politics,” CaliforniaHistorical Society Quarterly 38, no. 4 (Dec, 1959): 354. 18 Chase, 54.


the upstanding businessman’s paper. De Young’spaper covered the epidemic with biased articles andharsh editorials, but only once placed a story aboutbubonic plague on its front page. That space was leftfor coverage of the ongoing Second Boer War, and thespeeches of William Jennings Bryan. Stories about thelocal pestilence were pushed further back in the paper,perhaps reflecting the wishes of the Chronicle to be apublication of national significance.

The bubonic malady was treated with much morefanfare in the San Francisco Call. The paper wasknown for its loud illustrations (and later,photographs) that accompanied stories, and thus ithad no problem giving plague stories top billing. Likethe Chronicle, the Call was eager for the disease to goaway and for business to continue as normal in thecity. But while the Chronicle was mostly reactive todevelopments in the public health saga, the Call dideverything in its power to end the story. Anytime itseemed that there was hole in the evidence supportingthe existence of the bubonic disease, the evening paperran blaring front-page headlines such as “City PlagueScare Confessed a Sham,” “San Francisco Free fromDanger of Contagion,” or “Plague Fake is Exposed.”19 In addition to these incredibly misleading andjournalistically unethical headlines, the Call wentfurther during the crisis. At a time when the StateHealth Board and the Federal Quarantine Officialswere having great difficulty convincing the public ofthe bacterial science behind the plague, the Call sentin their own hired doctor to give the city a clean bill of

19 San Francisco Call, March 27, 1900; June 2, 1900;December 12, 1902.

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Spreckels’ sugar empire.16 The two publishers alsoapparently had gotten uncomfortably close in thepolitical arena. Franklin Hichborn writes that in 1899,both de Young and Spreckels attempted to put theirhat in the ring to be California’s senator, at that timechosen by state legislatures. Both had been promisedselection by the Republican machine, but to theirmutual surprise, the publishers watched the machineformally come out in support of Colonel Daniel M.Burns.17 The rivalry continued between the two in thestreets of downtown San Francisco. After the de Youngfamily had built the first steel-frame skyscraper in theWest for the Chronicle headquarters, the Spreckelsresponded with a nineteen-story tower on Market andThird Street.18 Editorially, however, these twofinancial giants agreed that the plague threatened thegood business name of their city. Moreover, they bothagreed that the plague should be deniedwholeheartedly, and that the Democratic Phelanadministration should become the daily victim in thepress. More alarming was the willingness by the twopublisher-barons to use their influence to make suretheir no-plague narrative was told.

Plague Coverage of the Chronicle and Call

While the two papers shared editorial motives, theirstyle and presentation was somewhat different. Devoidof colorful illustrations, the Chronicle was marketed as

16 McKee, 283. 17 Franklin Hichborn, “The Party, the Machine, and the Vote:The Story of Cross-Filing in California Politics,” CaliforniaHistorical Society Quarterly 38, no. 4 (Dec, 1959): 354. 18 Chase, 54.


the upstanding businessman’s paper. De Young’spaper covered the epidemic with biased articles andharsh editorials, but only once placed a story aboutbubonic plague on its front page. That space was leftfor coverage of the ongoing Second Boer War, and thespeeches of William Jennings Bryan. Stories about thelocal pestilence were pushed further back in the paper,perhaps reflecting the wishes of the Chronicle to be apublication of national significance.

The bubonic malady was treated with much morefanfare in the San Francisco Call. The paper wasknown for its loud illustrations (and later,photographs) that accompanied stories, and thus ithad no problem giving plague stories top billing. Likethe Chronicle, the Call was eager for the disease to goaway and for business to continue as normal in thecity. But while the Chronicle was mostly reactive todevelopments in the public health saga, the Call dideverything in its power to end the story. Anytime itseemed that there was hole in the evidence supportingthe existence of the bubonic disease, the evening paperran blaring front-page headlines such as “City PlagueScare Confessed a Sham,” “San Francisco Free fromDanger of Contagion,” or “Plague Fake is Exposed.”19 In addition to these incredibly misleading andjournalistically unethical headlines, the Call wentfurther during the crisis. At a time when the StateHealth Board and the Federal Quarantine Officialswere having great difficulty convincing the public ofthe bacterial science behind the plague, the Call sentin their own hired doctor to give the city a clean bill of

19 San Francisco Call, March 27, 1900; June 2, 1900;December 12, 1902.

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health. Later, when evidence mounted against thepaper’s anti-plague stance, a front page articleinvented a story claiming a federal health official haddenied the existence of the disease.20

The Trip to Washington

The report that the federally appointed healthexperts were prepared to release in the first months of1901 was potentially crippling to the argument ofthose who had denied the plague for a year. In lessthan a week in Chinatown, the group of scientists hadconfirmed six plague cases, while in all of 1900 localauthorities had discovered only twenty-two cases.21 Itis no surprise, then, that the men sent by GovernorGage to Washington had the required clout tonegotiate with Surgeon General Wyman. Beside suchcorporate powers as Southern Pacific’s chief councilWilliam Herrin sat members of San Francisco’sjournalistic elite: Bulletin publisher Fremont Older,Examiner representative Thomas T. Williams, andChronicle editor John P. Young.22 Their deal withWyman was simple. As Guenter Risse writes, “thefederal authorities agreed not to reveal thecommission’s findings concerning the presence ofplague in San Francisco; in exchange, the Californiaquintet verbally pledged to conduct a sanitarycampaign in Chinatown.”23 Wyman agreed to the dealand the group headed back to California, where the

20 “Plague Fake is Exposed,” San Francisco Call, December12, 1902. 21 Risse, 171. 22 Ibid., 172. 23 Ibid., 172.


Bee had leaked news of the report and the secretmeeting.

To readers in San Francisco, the daily papers tolda different story. For the first and last time in thecrisis, the Chronicle put a story about the plague on itsfront page. The March 12 headline read “NoGovernment Action on Bubonic Plague,” and theaccompanying article detailed the arrival of the“delegation of prominent citizens of San Francisco,”and mentioned that the expert report was stillconfidential, although the Bee had leaked its resultssix days earlier.24 The Call completely ignored themeetings, as well as the leaked report. The paper wasfar too busy chasing out Federal Quarantine OfficerKinyoun and, like the Chronicle, giving credence to thehealth report produced by the governor’s travelingallies denying the plague.25 Thus, like in many othercases during San Francisco’s public health calamity,it was just as important to note what the Chronicle andCall were not reporting, as much as what they were.

Politics and Plague

The tactics the Call and Chronicle used in theirdaily coverage of the plague epidemic were verysimilar. As already stated, their goal was to deny theplague until the story simply faded away, and the citycould return to business as usual. At the onset ofplague, the Republican papers aimed a political attack

24 “No Government Action on Alleged Bubonic Plague,” SanFrancisco Chronicle, March 12, 1901. 25 “The Bubonic Plague Fake,” San Francisco Chronicle, Oct.20, 1901.

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health. Later, when evidence mounted against thepaper’s anti-plague stance, a front page articleinvented a story claiming a federal health official haddenied the existence of the disease.20

The Trip to Washington

The report that the federally appointed healthexperts were prepared to release in the first months of1901 was potentially crippling to the argument ofthose who had denied the plague for a year. In lessthan a week in Chinatown, the group of scientists hadconfirmed six plague cases, while in all of 1900 localauthorities had discovered only twenty-two cases.21 Itis no surprise, then, that the men sent by GovernorGage to Washington had the required clout tonegotiate with Surgeon General Wyman. Beside suchcorporate powers as Southern Pacific’s chief councilWilliam Herrin sat members of San Francisco’sjournalistic elite: Bulletin publisher Fremont Older,Examiner representative Thomas T. Williams, andChronicle editor John P. Young.22 Their deal withWyman was simple. As Guenter Risse writes, “thefederal authorities agreed not to reveal thecommission’s findings concerning the presence ofplague in San Francisco; in exchange, the Californiaquintet verbally pledged to conduct a sanitarycampaign in Chinatown.”23 Wyman agreed to the dealand the group headed back to California, where the

20 “Plague Fake is Exposed,” San Francisco Call, December12, 1902. 21 Risse, 171. 22 Ibid., 172. 23 Ibid., 172.


Bee had leaked news of the report and the secretmeeting.

To readers in San Francisco, the daily papers tolda different story. For the first and last time in thecrisis, the Chronicle put a story about the plague on itsfront page. The March 12 headline read “NoGovernment Action on Bubonic Plague,” and theaccompanying article detailed the arrival of the“delegation of prominent citizens of San Francisco,”and mentioned that the expert report was stillconfidential, although the Bee had leaked its resultssix days earlier.24 The Call completely ignored themeetings, as well as the leaked report. The paper wasfar too busy chasing out Federal Quarantine OfficerKinyoun and, like the Chronicle, giving credence to thehealth report produced by the governor’s travelingallies denying the plague.25 Thus, like in many othercases during San Francisco’s public health calamity,it was just as important to note what the Chronicle andCall were not reporting, as much as what they were.

Politics and Plague

The tactics the Call and Chronicle used in theirdaily coverage of the plague epidemic were verysimilar. As already stated, their goal was to deny theplague until the story simply faded away, and the citycould return to business as usual. At the onset ofplague, the Republican papers aimed a political attack

24 “No Government Action on Alleged Bubonic Plague,” SanFrancisco Chronicle, March 12, 1901. 25 “The Bubonic Plague Fake,” San Francisco Chronicle, Oct.20, 1901.

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at the Democratic mayor and his health board. Thesecond front of the two newspaper’s fight against anyplague acknowledgement was directed towards themedical community and their conclusions. Theseattacks were based on the limited medical knowledgethat existed of the plague among everyday people. Finally, and most egregiously, the two Republicanpublications chose to ignore the deaths that wereoccurring in the city.

In their efforts to deny the existence of anyepidemic in San Francisco, the Chronicle and the Callboth initially targeted Mayor James Phelan and hisBoard of Health. Phelan was a progressive-mindedDemocrat, who sought to use the increased powersgranted to him by the city’s new 1898 charter toreform city government and beautify the metropolis.26 One of the powers granted was the ability to appointthe city’s health board, previously done by thegovernor. The new Health Board that Phelan broughtin faced a thankless task. Their budget had beenreduced by more than half by the Board ofSupervisors, and the last Health Board (nicknamed the“Burns gang” because they were recommended to thegovernor by political boss Daniel M. Burns) waswoefully inept.27 Thus, the new board entered withlittle money and even less public support, makingthem an easy target for the daily Republican papers.

The Call’s first published article on the reportedbubonic plague was published on March 8, 1900, twodays after Wong Chut King’s death. The third-pageheadline declared “Plague Fake Part of Plot to

26 Risse, 87. 27 Ibid., 89.


Plunder,” as the report blamed the city Health Boardfor creating the malady in an attempt to gain moreappropriations.28 It was a claim that put the Board inan untenable situation: publicly ask for more money,and the papers’ reports would be confirmed, or try andfight the lethal disease on a tiny budget and almostcertainly fail. The Chronicle followed suit in their firstpiece of plague coverage. Along with an articledetailing the quarantine of Chinatown, the paper’seditorial page claimed that: “What the Board of Healthwants is that its political gang may make money out ofcleaning Chinatown, and to effect this it is willing toruin the business of the city and terrify innocentfamilies.”29

It is clear from the editorials of the two papers inthe first few months of the crisis that they were farmore concerned with the “business of the city” thanwith the “innocent families” caught up in the crisis. Reflecting the views of their corporate clientele,another Chronicle editorial suggested that the mayorreplace his current health board with medicalbusinessmen, who could save “their profession fromthe disgrace with which it has been overwhelmed.”30 IfMayor Phelan was going to stand behind his Board ofHealth (as he did in a letter written to the Chronicle asa response to their attacks) then he too would face thewrath of the Republican media. As members of theBoard of Health joined with local doctors and federal

28 “Plague Fake Part of a Plot to Plunder,” San Francisco Call,March 8, 1900. 29 “An Assault on San Francisco,” San Francisco Chronicle,March 8, 1900. 30 “Remove the Board of Health,” San Francisco Chronicle,March 10, 1900.

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at the Democratic mayor and his health board. Thesecond front of the two newspaper’s fight against anyplague acknowledgement was directed towards themedical community and their conclusions. Theseattacks were based on the limited medical knowledgethat existed of the plague among everyday people. Finally, and most egregiously, the two Republicanpublications chose to ignore the deaths that wereoccurring in the city.

In their efforts to deny the existence of anyepidemic in San Francisco, the Chronicle and the Callboth initially targeted Mayor James Phelan and hisBoard of Health. Phelan was a progressive-mindedDemocrat, who sought to use the increased powersgranted to him by the city’s new 1898 charter toreform city government and beautify the metropolis.26 One of the powers granted was the ability to appointthe city’s health board, previously done by thegovernor. The new Health Board that Phelan broughtin faced a thankless task. Their budget had beenreduced by more than half by the Board ofSupervisors, and the last Health Board (nicknamed the“Burns gang” because they were recommended to thegovernor by political boss Daniel M. Burns) waswoefully inept.27 Thus, the new board entered withlittle money and even less public support, makingthem an easy target for the daily Republican papers.

The Call’s first published article on the reportedbubonic plague was published on March 8, 1900, twodays after Wong Chut King’s death. The third-pageheadline declared “Plague Fake Part of Plot to

26 Risse, 87. 27 Ibid., 89.


Plunder,” as the report blamed the city Health Boardfor creating the malady in an attempt to gain moreappropriations.28 It was a claim that put the Board inan untenable situation: publicly ask for more money,and the papers’ reports would be confirmed, or try andfight the lethal disease on a tiny budget and almostcertainly fail. The Chronicle followed suit in their firstpiece of plague coverage. Along with an articledetailing the quarantine of Chinatown, the paper’seditorial page claimed that: “What the Board of Healthwants is that its political gang may make money out ofcleaning Chinatown, and to effect this it is willing toruin the business of the city and terrify innocentfamilies.”29

It is clear from the editorials of the two papers inthe first few months of the crisis that they were farmore concerned with the “business of the city” thanwith the “innocent families” caught up in the crisis. Reflecting the views of their corporate clientele,another Chronicle editorial suggested that the mayorreplace his current health board with medicalbusinessmen, who could save “their profession fromthe disgrace with which it has been overwhelmed.”30 IfMayor Phelan was going to stand behind his Board ofHealth (as he did in a letter written to the Chronicle asa response to their attacks) then he too would face thewrath of the Republican media. As members of theBoard of Health joined with local doctors and federal

28 “Plague Fake Part of a Plot to Plunder,” San Francisco Call,March 8, 1900. 29 “An Assault on San Francisco,” San Francisco Chronicle,March 8, 1900. 30 “Remove the Board of Health,” San Francisco Chronicle,March 10, 1900.

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quarantine officials to search Chinatown for signs ofthe pestilence, the Call published a large cartoon withthe caption, “Beware The ‘Phelonic’ Plague That HasInfested The City.”31 In the cartoon a giant Phelan,reduced to skin and bones because of his illness, rapshis bony limbs around City Hall, as if holding onto itfor dear life. Below him, the people of the city screamand flee. When political attacks such as this were notenough to sway their readership, the Chronicle andCall questioned the scientific validity of the plague.

Bubonic Science in its Infancy

The bubonic plague broke out in San Franciscojust as scientific knowledge of the illness was cominginto clarity. In the 1870’s, Robert Koch developedmethods to recognize diseases by examining a person’sbacteria. A decade later, French doctor Louis Pasteur,and a group of scientists, discovered how to producevaccines and serums for cholera, typhoid, and yellowfever.32 These findings led to the race between Swissbacteriologist Alexander Yersin, and Japanesebacteriologist Shibasurburo Kitasato, to locate theplague bacterium. The United States Public HealthService was a little late entering the race for bacterialknowledge, but it caught up quickly under theleadership of Walter Wyman, who led the departmentfrom 1891 to 1911 as surgeon general. The budget ofthe service more than doubled in those 20 years, and

31 “Beware the ‘Phelonic’ Plague That Has Infested The City,”San Francisco Call, March 16, 1900. 32 Nayan Shah, Contagious Divides: Epidemics and Race inSan Francisco’s Chinatown (Berkeley: University of CaliforniaPress, 2001), 126.


with the help of Joseph Kinyoun, the firstbacteriological lab in U.S. history was built on StatenIsland.33 This growth in knowledge, however, occurredamong the elite scientists of the world, not among localSan Francisco clinicians. There was still room fordebate concerning the disease, and both the Chronicleand the Call took advantage of that medical doubt intheir coverage.

Throughout the epidemic, the editorials of theChronicle and the Call questioned the scientificconclusions and methods of respected local andfederal officials who diagnosed plague. At the root ofthe misleading coverage was a gap in the medicalknowledge of the disease between health experts andjournalists. To determine what caused the death ofWong Chut King, Kinyoun ran a standard viral test,inoculating a number of animals with the isolatedplague bacteria. When those animals eventually died,Kinyoun again isolated the germ and declared thatChinatown was infected. The editors of the Chroniclecould not (or would not) wrap their heads around thisconcept, they wrote that the result “proves absolutelynothing unless the bacillus which caused the deathcan be identified with the bacillus of the plague, whichhas not been done.”34 Of course, it had been done, byYersin less than a decade earlier, a finding Kinyounwas surely aware of due to his studies in Europe andconnections to top bacteriologists like Pasteur andKoch.35 But the writers at these papers had not spent

33 Ibid. 34 “The Plague Bacillus,” San Francisco Chronicle, March 29,1900.

35 Chase, 24.

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quarantine officials to search Chinatown for signs ofthe pestilence, the Call published a large cartoon withthe caption, “Beware The ‘Phelonic’ Plague That HasInfested The City.”31 In the cartoon a giant Phelan,reduced to skin and bones because of his illness, rapshis bony limbs around City Hall, as if holding onto itfor dear life. Below him, the people of the city screamand flee. When political attacks such as this were notenough to sway their readership, the Chronicle andCall questioned the scientific validity of the plague.

Bubonic Science in its Infancy

The bubonic plague broke out in San Franciscojust as scientific knowledge of the illness was cominginto clarity. In the 1870’s, Robert Koch developedmethods to recognize diseases by examining a person’sbacteria. A decade later, French doctor Louis Pasteur,and a group of scientists, discovered how to producevaccines and serums for cholera, typhoid, and yellowfever.32 These findings led to the race between Swissbacteriologist Alexander Yersin, and Japanesebacteriologist Shibasurburo Kitasato, to locate theplague bacterium. The United States Public HealthService was a little late entering the race for bacterialknowledge, but it caught up quickly under theleadership of Walter Wyman, who led the departmentfrom 1891 to 1911 as surgeon general. The budget ofthe service more than doubled in those 20 years, and

31 “Beware the ‘Phelonic’ Plague That Has Infested The City,”San Francisco Call, March 16, 1900. 32 Nayan Shah, Contagious Divides: Epidemics and Race inSan Francisco’s Chinatown (Berkeley: University of CaliforniaPress, 2001), 126.


with the help of Joseph Kinyoun, the firstbacteriological lab in U.S. history was built on StatenIsland.33 This growth in knowledge, however, occurredamong the elite scientists of the world, not among localSan Francisco clinicians. There was still room fordebate concerning the disease, and both the Chronicleand the Call took advantage of that medical doubt intheir coverage.

Throughout the epidemic, the editorials of theChronicle and the Call questioned the scientificconclusions and methods of respected local andfederal officials who diagnosed plague. At the root ofthe misleading coverage was a gap in the medicalknowledge of the disease between health experts andjournalists. To determine what caused the death ofWong Chut King, Kinyoun ran a standard viral test,inoculating a number of animals with the isolatedplague bacteria. When those animals eventually died,Kinyoun again isolated the germ and declared thatChinatown was infected. The editors of the Chroniclecould not (or would not) wrap their heads around thisconcept, they wrote that the result “proves absolutelynothing unless the bacillus which caused the deathcan be identified with the bacillus of the plague, whichhas not been done.”34 Of course, it had been done, byYersin less than a decade earlier, a finding Kinyounwas surely aware of due to his studies in Europe andconnections to top bacteriologists like Pasteur andKoch.35 But the writers at these papers had not spent

33 Ibid. 34 “The Plague Bacillus,” San Francisco Chronicle, March 29,1900.

35 Chase, 24.

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years studying bacterial cultures under microscopeslike Kinyoun, and their theories reflected that disparityin knowledge. One theory floated by the Chronicleeditorial writers was that the bubonic illness wascaused by a protein-deficient diet and a tropicalclimate, which explained its prevalence in India andChina. Chinese in San Francisco, on the other hand,had protein-rich diets and lived in a cool climate, andthus could not catch the disease.36 As Nayan Shahdescribes, the opposing theories about plague“exposed the stark cleavages in scientific knowledgeabout epidemics and unease with governmentstrategies for its suppression.”37 As the saga went on,the Chronicle and the Call would rely on a variety ofother theories to claim scientific superiority.

Three days after Wong Chut King’s body was foundin the Globe Hotel, the Chronicle reported on theprogress of the Chinatown quarantine and criticizedthe Board of Health. It also introduced an argumentagainst the plague’s existence that would continue toappear for the next three years. Why, the paper asked,would there not be many more people dead inChinatown if the plague was real? Wouldn’t the “blackdeath” of medieval times leave dead bodies scattereddown Dupont Street?38 The Call followed suit manytimes over the next couple of years, opining inFebruary of 1901 “where its germs lodge, speedy noticeof its presence is served, and the fact of its existence isnot left to be determined by a microscope in a secret

36 “Experience vs. Experiment,” San Francisco Chronicle,June 1, 1900. 37 Shah, 123. 38 “Plague Fake is Exploded,” San Francisco Chronicle, March9, 1900.


laboratory.”39

We know today that the answer most certainly liesin the species of flea that housed the disease in thedark crevices of Chinatown. According to a Center forDisease Control expert interviewed in the epilogue ofMarilyn Chase’s book on the plague, the 1894 plaguewhich left millions dead in Asia was the product of theOriental rat flea. This flea, known as the Pulexcheopis, grows a basket of spines in its stomach thattemporarily blocks the exit of the plague blood, and theentrance of any new blood the flea searches for. Eventually, the starving flea dislodges this deadlycocoon of germ that has been breeding in its stomach. The flea present in San Francisco (Ceratophyllusfasciatus) had no mechanism that blocked digestion,leading to a less lethal transmission.40 This smalldifference probably saved scores of lives in SanFrancisco, and accounts for the controlled, though stillserious, breakout that occurred there.

In attempting to scientifically disprove the existenceof the plague, the Call, the less traditional of the twoRepublican papers, went to lengths the Chroniclewould find too far for its readers’ tastes. On May 29,a day after Judge William W. Morrow overturnedKinyoun’s travel ban on Asians, and the state hadenacted its own quarantine, Dr. George F. Shradyarrived in San Francisco to determine once and for allif the pestilence existed in the city. Disproving thedisease “once and for all” would become a repeatedphrase on the part of the plague disbelievers, but theclaim rang hollow as dead bodies with swollen glands

39 “Another Plague,” San Francisco Call, February 3, 1901. 40 Chase, 191.

81




years studying bacterial cultures under microscopeslike Kinyoun, and their theories reflected that disparityin knowledge. One theory floated by the Chronicleeditorial writers was that the bubonic illness wascaused by a protein-deficient diet and a tropicalclimate, which explained its prevalence in India andChina. Chinese in San Francisco, on the other hand,had protein-rich diets and lived in a cool climate, andthus could not catch the disease.36 As Nayan Shahdescribes, the opposing theories about plague“exposed the stark cleavages in scientific knowledgeabout epidemics and unease with governmentstrategies for its suppression.”37 As the saga went on,the Chronicle and the Call would rely on a variety ofother theories to claim scientific superiority.

Three days after Wong Chut King’s body was foundin the Globe Hotel, the Chronicle reported on theprogress of the Chinatown quarantine and criticizedthe Board of Health. It also introduced an argumentagainst the plague’s existence that would continue toappear for the next three years. Why, the paper asked,would there not be many more people dead inChinatown if the plague was real? Wouldn’t the “blackdeath” of medieval times leave dead bodies scattereddown Dupont Street?38 The Call followed suit manytimes over the next couple of years, opining inFebruary of 1901 “where its germs lodge, speedy noticeof its presence is served, and the fact of its existence isnot left to be determined by a microscope in a secret

36 “Experience vs. Experiment,” San Francisco Chronicle,June 1, 1900. 37 Shah, 123. 38 “Plague Fake is Exploded,” San Francisco Chronicle, March9, 1900.


laboratory.”39

We know today that the answer most certainly liesin the species of flea that housed the disease in thedark crevices of Chinatown. According to a Center forDisease Control expert interviewed in the epilogue ofMarilyn Chase’s book on the plague, the 1894 plaguewhich left millions dead in Asia was the product of theOriental rat flea. This flea, known as the Pulexcheopis, grows a basket of spines in its stomach thattemporarily blocks the exit of the plague blood, and theentrance of any new blood the flea searches for. Eventually, the starving flea dislodges this deadlycocoon of germ that has been breeding in its stomach. The flea present in San Francisco (Ceratophyllusfasciatus) had no mechanism that blocked digestion,leading to a less lethal transmission.40 This smalldifference probably saved scores of lives in SanFrancisco, and accounts for the controlled, though stillserious, breakout that occurred there.

In attempting to scientifically disprove the existenceof the plague, the Call, the less traditional of the twoRepublican papers, went to lengths the Chroniclewould find too far for its readers’ tastes. On May 29,a day after Judge William W. Morrow overturnedKinyoun’s travel ban on Asians, and the state hadenacted its own quarantine, Dr. George F. Shradyarrived in San Francisco to determine once and for allif the pestilence existed in the city. Disproving thedisease “once and for all” would become a repeatedphrase on the part of the plague disbelievers, but theclaim rang hollow as dead bodies with swollen glands

39 “Another Plague,” San Francisco Call, February 3, 1901. 40 Chase, 191.

82




continued to be found for another three years. Shradyhad been hired by the New York Journal and the Call,which announced his arrival with an illustrated front-page spread. The pictures conveyed a sense of dramaregarding the health proceedings; on one side of thepage Judge Morrow thoughtfully reads his decision, onthe other side worried city merchants confer with theState health officials. And in the middle, triumphantlyposed with his right fist clenched, his left armextended as if emphasizing an important point, is Dr.Shrady, the city’s medical savior. Unfortunately, thedoctor’s visit led to nothing but more confusion. Thearticle contained a statement from Dr. Shradydeclaring, “As far as I can learn from a conversationheld this morning with the President of the HealthBoard there is at present no case of bubonic plague inSan Francisco.”41 The announcement left manyquestions unanswered (had there even been buboniccases?), and it did not shut the door on the possibilityof deaths in the future.

The next day, authorities took Dr. Shrady toexamine the corpse of Dang Hong, a forty-year-oldworker, who had lived in Chinatown for ten years.42 Shrady confirmed that Hong had indeed died ofplague, and, in doing so, forced the hand of the Call. The newspaper had no choice but to take to the frontpage with the following headline: “Sporadic Case ofBubonic Plague Discovered, But There is Absolutely NoNeed for Alarm.”43 While the front page admonished

41 “Board of Health Confesses to a Famous Expert,” SanFrancisco Call, May 29, 1900. 42 Risse, 279. 43 “Sporadic Case of Bubonic Plague Discovered,” SanFrancisco Call, May 31, 1900.


citizens to remain calm and simply take sanitary care,the editorial of the same day turned nasty, declaringthat if the disease really did exist, then Chinatownshould be burned to the ground.44 The paper had paidthe price for its attempt to control the scientificnarrative of the epidemic.

Silent Journalism

In the bubonic plague crisis that lasted from 1900to 1904, 119 San Franciscans lost their lives. Thisnumber can be disputed due to the difficulty ofactually locating dead bodies in Chinatown. In thefirst place, poor lines of communication existedbetween the San Francisco medical establishment andChinese doctors. The residents of Chinatown alsobegan hiding dead bodies with plague, understandablytrying to avoid another quarantine.45 Only the first,Wong Chut King, received any type of press from theChronicle or the Call. The vast majority of the plaguevictims were Chinese, and this could have been acontributing factor to the lack of coverage. An illnessafflicting the wealthy residents of Pacific Heights wouldhave certainly received a different reaction from themedia. But the refusal of the two editorial boards tosee the calamity as anything other than a political rusewas the single biggest factor suppressing honestcoverage.

As the deaths continued (three more Chineselaborers followed Wong Chut King to the grave inMarch), the editorials of the Chronicle and Call became

44 “Clean Out Chinatown,” San Francisco Call, May 31, 1900. 45 Risse, 184. 277.

83




continued to be found for another three years. Shradyhad been hired by the New York Journal and the Call,which announced his arrival with an illustrated front-page spread. The pictures conveyed a sense of dramaregarding the health proceedings; on one side of thepage Judge Morrow thoughtfully reads his decision, onthe other side worried city merchants confer with theState health officials. And in the middle, triumphantlyposed with his right fist clenched, his left armextended as if emphasizing an important point, is Dr.Shrady, the city’s medical savior. Unfortunately, thedoctor’s visit led to nothing but more confusion. Thearticle contained a statement from Dr. Shradydeclaring, “As far as I can learn from a conversationheld this morning with the President of the HealthBoard there is at present no case of bubonic plague inSan Francisco.”41 The announcement left manyquestions unanswered (had there even been buboniccases?), and it did not shut the door on the possibilityof deaths in the future.

The next day, authorities took Dr. Shrady toexamine the corpse of Dang Hong, a forty-year-oldworker, who had lived in Chinatown for ten years.42 Shrady confirmed that Hong had indeed died ofplague, and, in doing so, forced the hand of the Call. The newspaper had no choice but to take to the frontpage with the following headline: “Sporadic Case ofBubonic Plague Discovered, But There is Absolutely NoNeed for Alarm.”43 While the front page admonished

41 “Board of Health Confesses to a Famous Expert,” SanFrancisco Call, May 29, 1900. 42 Risse, 279. 43 “Sporadic Case of Bubonic Plague Discovered,” SanFrancisco Call, May 31, 1900.


citizens to remain calm and simply take sanitary care,the editorial of the same day turned nasty, declaringthat if the disease really did exist, then Chinatownshould be burned to the ground.44 The paper had paidthe price for its attempt to control the scientificnarrative of the epidemic.

Silent Journalism

In the bubonic plague crisis that lasted from 1900to 1904, 119 San Franciscans lost their lives. Thisnumber can be disputed due to the difficulty ofactually locating dead bodies in Chinatown. In thefirst place, poor lines of communication existedbetween the San Francisco medical establishment andChinese doctors. The residents of Chinatown alsobegan hiding dead bodies with plague, understandablytrying to avoid another quarantine.45 Only the first,Wong Chut King, received any type of press from theChronicle or the Call. The vast majority of the plaguevictims were Chinese, and this could have been acontributing factor to the lack of coverage. An illnessafflicting the wealthy residents of Pacific Heights wouldhave certainly received a different reaction from themedia. But the refusal of the two editorial boards tosee the calamity as anything other than a political rusewas the single biggest factor suppressing honestcoverage.

As the deaths continued (three more Chineselaborers followed Wong Chut King to the grave inMarch), the editorials of the Chronicle and Call became

44 “Clean Out Chinatown,” San Francisco Call, May 31, 1900. 45 Risse, 184. 277.

84




more transparent. More than anything, the two paperssimply wanted the plague story to go away and forbusiness to continue as usual by the Bay. On March25, a Call editorial exposed these desires in shockingfashion. After a routine criticism of Phelan and therival Examiner, the editorial declared “It will beremembered that the Call and Chronicle agreed to omitpublication of the sensational doings of the Board ofHealth and the Chief of Police.”46 This collusion, whichevidenced an abandonment of journalistic standards,was meant as a rebuttal to a “plague special”published by the Examiner and its Hearst-ownedaffiliates. A month later, it was the Chronicleapplauding the Call for its efforts in “defending the cityagainst the hurtful story that bubonic plague existedhere.”47

Throughout the summer and fall, the shotscontinued at the Examiner and at Kinyoun, specialsran detailing horror stories of whites trapped in theChinatown quarantine, and plague cases in Englandand India were reported. But of the fourteen deathsthat occurred between May and October, not one waswritten about. Even the death of the first white victim,teamster William Murphy, drew no coverage fromeither paper. A reason could simply be that theeditorial boards of the Chronicle and the Call had gonetoo far to turn back. Despite mounting death totalsand scientific evidence, jettisoning their original no-plague position would have resulted in a loss of face.It was a game of “Chicken,” and with neither side

46 “Yellow Plague,” San Francisco Call, March 25, 1900. 47 “Deprecate Plague Fake,” San Francisco Chronicle, April17, 1900.


willing to risk embarrassment, their journalisticstanding was left to slip off the cliff.

The Racial Motives of the Call and Chronicle

Another theory is that the deaths were not coveredbecause those affected by the plague were mostlyChinese immigrants living in San Francisco’sChinatown. Of the 119 plague deaths, only twelvewere not Asian.48 Many were single men with fewconnections in this country, the kind of people whoeasily escaped the public’s attention. Furthermore,both papers had a history of not providing Chinese-Americans with favorable coverage. The Chronicle hadlong been an important local player in promotingChinese and Japanese exclusion.49 The Call,meanwhile, constantly portrayed Asians in theircartoons as monkeys, and stereotyped their behavioras animals inside the quarantine. It made sense thatthese conservative, business-friendly papers wouldseek to demean the Chinese. Chinatown itself sat ona valuable area of land not far from downtown, andeditorials from the time show that much thoughtalready went into ways to relocate Chinese to anotherpart of the city.50 This being said, remaining silent onthe plague issue does not seem like the best way tohave promoted Chinese removal. The Examiner, forexample, with its strong Democrat and union ties,sought to expose the plague, and, in the process,

48 Risse, 277. 49 Becker, 1. 50 “The Chinatown Nuisance,” San Francisco Chronicle, June29, 1900. Explains how Chinese could possibly be priced out ofcurrent location through a city charter loophole.

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more transparent. More than anything, the two paperssimply wanted the plague story to go away and forbusiness to continue as usual by the Bay. On March25, a Call editorial exposed these desires in shockingfashion. After a routine criticism of Phelan and therival Examiner, the editorial declared “It will beremembered that the Call and Chronicle agreed to omitpublication of the sensational doings of the Board ofHealth and the Chief of Police.”46 This collusion, whichevidenced an abandonment of journalistic standards,was meant as a rebuttal to a “plague special”published by the Examiner and its Hearst-ownedaffiliates. A month later, it was the Chronicleapplauding the Call for its efforts in “defending the cityagainst the hurtful story that bubonic plague existedhere.”47

Throughout the summer and fall, the shotscontinued at the Examiner and at Kinyoun, specialsran detailing horror stories of whites trapped in theChinatown quarantine, and plague cases in Englandand India were reported. But of the fourteen deathsthat occurred between May and October, not one waswritten about. Even the death of the first white victim,teamster William Murphy, drew no coverage fromeither paper. A reason could simply be that theeditorial boards of the Chronicle and the Call had gonetoo far to turn back. Despite mounting death totalsand scientific evidence, jettisoning their original no-plague position would have resulted in a loss of face.It was a game of “Chicken,” and with neither side

46 “Yellow Plague,” San Francisco Call, March 25, 1900. 47 “Deprecate Plague Fake,” San Francisco Chronicle, April17, 1900.


willing to risk embarrassment, their journalisticstanding was left to slip off the cliff.

The Racial Motives of the Call and Chronicle

Another theory is that the deaths were not coveredbecause those affected by the plague were mostlyChinese immigrants living in San Francisco’sChinatown. Of the 119 plague deaths, only twelvewere not Asian.48 Many were single men with fewconnections in this country, the kind of people whoeasily escaped the public’s attention. Furthermore,both papers had a history of not providing Chinese-Americans with favorable coverage. The Chronicle hadlong been an important local player in promotingChinese and Japanese exclusion.49 The Call,meanwhile, constantly portrayed Asians in theircartoons as monkeys, and stereotyped their behavioras animals inside the quarantine. It made sense thatthese conservative, business-friendly papers wouldseek to demean the Chinese. Chinatown itself sat ona valuable area of land not far from downtown, andeditorials from the time show that much thoughtalready went into ways to relocate Chinese to anotherpart of the city.50 This being said, remaining silent onthe plague issue does not seem like the best way tohave promoted Chinese removal. The Examiner, forexample, with its strong Democrat and union ties,sought to expose the plague, and, in the process,

48 Risse, 277. 49 Becker, 1. 50 “The Chinatown Nuisance,” San Francisco Chronicle, June29, 1900. Explains how Chinese could possibly be priced out ofcurrent location through a city charter loophole.

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expose the Chinese as a filthy, sick population thatwas bad. The silence of the Chronicle and Call, then,was less of a purposeful turning of a blind eye to theplight of the Chinese, and more likely an attempt tocompletely ignore any plague story. After all, withChinatown’s proximity to San Francisco’s commercialcenter, plague would be bad for business. And thebusiness interests of the city were above all whatinterested the two Republican papers.

The End of the Plague

The efforts of the business community in SanFrancisco to suppress the knowledge of the plague hadallowed the illness to drag on through 1902. The city’sdeath total rose to ninety-three on December 11 withthe passing of Deong Yuen Yum.51 The plague wouldonly come to an end when the city’s commercialinterests decided that there was no use in furtherdenying what had become known nationally, and thatbusiness stood to lose if Chinatown was not cleanedup. Rupert Blue, the federal quarantine officer whotook over in the spring of 1901, had been pursuing aplan of rat catching and construction to eradicate theplague. This process called for knocking down hastilybuilt porches and wooden additions, and filling inbasements with concrete.52 The plan seemed to be theanswer to the plague, but to carry it out Blue neededthe support of the powerful business leaders and thenewspapers that represented the business interests.

The commercial powers of San Francisco had their

51 Risse, 293. 52 Chase, 126.


own reasons to begin support of plague eradication. The city’s standing as the home of the Pacific Fleet,and the West’s greatest shipping hub, was beingchallenged by Seattle and the Northern Pacific Railway. As Guenter Risse writes in his account of the plague,the image of the city as host to such a contagion gavegreat credence to those who advocated the transferringof maritime business to Seattle.53 In January of 1903,Surgeon General Wyman organized a meeting of thenation’s state health boards. It declared once and forall that plague existed in San Francisco. What cameof this was a meeting of the top business interests ofthe city, including M.H. de Young, who decided to formthe Joint Mercantile Committee. While the Call andChronicle both reported the purpose of the meeting wasto suppress Wyman’s declaration, the Joint MercantileCommittee would prove to be a valuable ally to Blue ineradicating the plague.54

Whether de Young truly believed that plague waspresent in San Francisco, or whether the risks in nottaking action simply became too great for the city’sbusiness, the publisher and his influential associatesteamed with Blue to end the epidemic. Blue, unlikequarantine officer Joseph Kinyoun, understood theimportance of playing to the influential newspapers,and, according to Marilyn Chase’s account of thecrisis, he asked for their backing of the rat eradicationcampaign and the cleaning of Chinatown, missionsthat could be pursued without admitting the existence

53 Risse, 219-220. 54 “Business Men Take Action,” San Francisco Chronicle,January 27, 1903, and “Lies are Still Hurting State,” SanFrancisco Call, January 27, 1903.

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expose the Chinese as a filthy, sick population thatwas bad. The silence of the Chronicle and Call, then,was less of a purposeful turning of a blind eye to theplight of the Chinese, and more likely an attempt tocompletely ignore any plague story. After all, withChinatown’s proximity to San Francisco’s commercialcenter, plague would be bad for business. And thebusiness interests of the city were above all whatinterested the two Republican papers.

The End of the Plague

The efforts of the business community in SanFrancisco to suppress the knowledge of the plague hadallowed the illness to drag on through 1902. The city’sdeath total rose to ninety-three on December 11 withthe passing of Deong Yuen Yum.51 The plague wouldonly come to an end when the city’s commercialinterests decided that there was no use in furtherdenying what had become known nationally, and thatbusiness stood to lose if Chinatown was not cleanedup. Rupert Blue, the federal quarantine officer whotook over in the spring of 1901, had been pursuing aplan of rat catching and construction to eradicate theplague. This process called for knocking down hastilybuilt porches and wooden additions, and filling inbasements with concrete.52 The plan seemed to be theanswer to the plague, but to carry it out Blue neededthe support of the powerful business leaders and thenewspapers that represented the business interests.

The commercial powers of San Francisco had their

51 Risse, 293. 52 Chase, 126.


own reasons to begin support of plague eradication. The city’s standing as the home of the Pacific Fleet,and the West’s greatest shipping hub, was beingchallenged by Seattle and the Northern Pacific Railway. As Guenter Risse writes in his account of the plague,the image of the city as host to such a contagion gavegreat credence to those who advocated the transferringof maritime business to Seattle.53 In January of 1903,Surgeon General Wyman organized a meeting of thenation’s state health boards. It declared once and forall that plague existed in San Francisco. What cameof this was a meeting of the top business interests ofthe city, including M.H. de Young, who decided to formthe Joint Mercantile Committee. While the Call andChronicle both reported the purpose of the meeting wasto suppress Wyman’s declaration, the Joint MercantileCommittee would prove to be a valuable ally to Blue ineradicating the plague.54

Whether de Young truly believed that plague waspresent in San Francisco, or whether the risks in nottaking action simply became too great for the city’sbusiness, the publisher and his influential associatesteamed with Blue to end the epidemic. Blue, unlikequarantine officer Joseph Kinyoun, understood theimportance of playing to the influential newspapers,and, according to Marilyn Chase’s account of thecrisis, he asked for their backing of the rat eradicationcampaign and the cleaning of Chinatown, missionsthat could be pursued without admitting the existence

53 Risse, 219-220. 54 “Business Men Take Action,” San Francisco Chronicle,January 27, 1903, and “Lies are Still Hurting State,” SanFrancisco Call, January 27, 1903.

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of plague.55 Whether a direct response to Blue’s pleasor simply a case of journalistic exhaustion, storiesabout the plague in the Call and Chronicle becamescarce in 1903 and 1904, and all but disappeared fromthe paper’s editorials. As Joint Mercantile Committeeincreased their efforts throughout 1903, Blue beganmeeting regularly with the Committee’s president, andother state and local health officials, to discuss thejoint efforts.56 Blue’s plan for plague eradication wasultimately successful, and the last death of the plagueoccurred in February of 1904. The meetings Blue heldultimately laid the groundwork for future public-private collaboration, and when the bubonic plagueresurfaced following the 1906 earthquake, theblueprint for eradication was in place. Only when themedia hysteria had died down, and the city’s rich andpowerful had accepted the truth about the plague, wasmeaningful prevention able to prevail.

Conclusion and Lasting Impact

The bubonic plague that killed nearly 120 SanFranciscans from 1900 to 1904 was wiped out fairlyquickly once the plague’s presence was undisputed,and a clear agenda for Chinatown’s cleanup wascarried out. For the first two years of the crisis,however, the lack of any substantial action wasdelayed by the debate over whether the plague actuallyexisted. Opposition to the plague’s existence, thoughscientifically baseless, was led by the city’s twoRepublican newspapers, the Call and the Chronicle.

55 Chase, 130. 56 Risse, 250.


The two newspapers acted as beacons ofmisinformation at a perilous time when the publicdeserved to know why San Franciscans were dying. The leaders of these two journals were Republicanbarons who wanted to see business as usual continuein San Francisco.

The paper’s strong Republican positions led tocriticism of the Democratic mayor and his healthboard for inventing the plague to gain more funds. Though great advances had been made in scientificcircles that correctly identified the bubonic plaguestrain, the Call and Chronicle played to the medicalignorance of the common man in their attempt torepudiate pronouncements from local and federalhealth officials. Finally, the papers abdicated theirjournalistic integrity in not reporting on the sick anddying in their own city. In pretending to be a voice forthe citizens of San Francisco against higher politicaland medical interests, the papers instead left thepublic unaware of the harmful disease around them.

The lasting impact of the 1900 bubonic plague andits media coverage, can be related to a medicalcalamity that occurred some eighty years later whenanother virus emerged among a minority population inSan Francisco. The AIDS crisis of the 1980s firstemerged in New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco,particularly in the gay hub of Castro Street, whichquickly became “ground zero” for the epidemic in thatcity. Like the bubonic plague of 1900, AIDS wasinitially limited to an isolated minority population, andits presence was downplayed by business interests (inthe case of AIDS, these interests were the bathhouseand sex club owners who were positioned to losebusiness if an outbreak was acknowledged.) But as

89




of plague.55 Whether a direct response to Blue’s pleasor simply a case of journalistic exhaustion, storiesabout the plague in the Call and Chronicle becamescarce in 1903 and 1904, and all but disappeared fromthe paper’s editorials. As Joint Mercantile Committeeincreased their efforts throughout 1903, Blue beganmeeting regularly with the Committee’s president, andother state and local health officials, to discuss thejoint efforts.56 Blue’s plan for plague eradication wasultimately successful, and the last death of the plagueoccurred in February of 1904. The meetings Blue heldultimately laid the groundwork for future public-private collaboration, and when the bubonic plagueresurfaced following the 1906 earthquake, theblueprint for eradication was in place. Only when themedia hysteria had died down, and the city’s rich andpowerful had accepted the truth about the plague, wasmeaningful prevention able to prevail.

Conclusion and Lasting Impact

The bubonic plague that killed nearly 120 SanFranciscans from 1900 to 1904 was wiped out fairlyquickly once the plague’s presence was undisputed,and a clear agenda for Chinatown’s cleanup wascarried out. For the first two years of the crisis,however, the lack of any substantial action wasdelayed by the debate over whether the plague actuallyexisted. Opposition to the plague’s existence, thoughscientifically baseless, was led by the city’s twoRepublican newspapers, the Call and the Chronicle.

55 Chase, 130. 56 Risse, 250.


The two newspapers acted as beacons ofmisinformation at a perilous time when the publicdeserved to know why San Franciscans were dying. The leaders of these two journals were Republicanbarons who wanted to see business as usual continuein San Francisco.

The paper’s strong Republican positions led tocriticism of the Democratic mayor and his healthboard for inventing the plague to gain more funds. Though great advances had been made in scientificcircles that correctly identified the bubonic plaguestrain, the Call and Chronicle played to the medicalignorance of the common man in their attempt torepudiate pronouncements from local and federalhealth officials. Finally, the papers abdicated theirjournalistic integrity in not reporting on the sick anddying in their own city. In pretending to be a voice forthe citizens of San Francisco against higher politicaland medical interests, the papers instead left thepublic unaware of the harmful disease around them.

The lasting impact of the 1900 bubonic plague andits media coverage, can be related to a medicalcalamity that occurred some eighty years later whenanother virus emerged among a minority population inSan Francisco. The AIDS crisis of the 1980s firstemerged in New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco,particularly in the gay hub of Castro Street, whichquickly became “ground zero” for the epidemic in thatcity. Like the bubonic plague of 1900, AIDS wasinitially limited to an isolated minority population, andits presence was downplayed by business interests (inthe case of AIDS, these interests were the bathhouseand sex club owners who were positioned to losebusiness if an outbreak was acknowledged.) But as

90




Randy Shilts writes in his seminal account of thecrisis, And the Band Played On, the San FranciscoChronicle acted quite differently than its turn of thecentury predecessor, and was far ahead of the nationalmedia in both reporting the tragic deaths, and pushingthe local government for more action. Subsequently,San Francisco’s AIDS prevention and treatmentprograms were far ahead of other cities such as NewYork.57

Perhaps then, if the Call and Chronicle in 1900-1904 had been out in front of the local healthinspectors, reporting in detail the early gruesomedeaths in Chinatown, local and federal officials wouldhave responded with a unified effort, unburdened withhaving to prove that a disease actually existed. Ironically, the scientific knowledge of the bubonicplague in the early twentieth century was actuallymore advanced than the knowledge of AIDS when itsoutbreak took place in San Francisco. But so mucheffort on the part of Joseph Kinyoun and the earlyhealth officials involved with the plague was spent onfighting a daily press war with the Republican newsconglomerates, that two years went by with littlesubstantive progress. The plague of 1900 will foreverillustrate the coercive power of the press to muddlescientific knowledge and delay impactful action.

Guy Marzorati is a senior History major and PoliticalScience minor at Santa Clara University. He hopes topursue a career in broadcast media.

57 Randy Shilts, And the Band Played On (Boston: St.Martin’s Press, 1987).


Environmental Disaster in Japan

Kathryn Karasek

Japan modernized more rapidly than any othercountry in the modern era. This rapid modernizationdictated the government’s responses to environmentalissues throughout the twentieth century. In this essay,I examine the Minamata disaster and how itepitomized the ideology that grounded thegovernment’s response to environmental disaster. Iargue that, although the climax occurred in the mid-twentieth century, the roots were planted in thebeginning of the century, with the Ashio Copper Minepollution incident. I further examine how theMinamata case affected the government’s approach tothe Fukushima Nuclear Crisis.

The Ashio Copper Mine

Intensive environmental destruction in Japan,coupled with a combative public response to thatdestruction, can be traced to just before the turn of thetwentieth century, when the pollution from the AshioCopper Mine wreaked havoc on the surroundingcountryside and farmers rose up against theirgovernment to save their lands. The Ashio CopperMine had been active since the seventeenth century,but was losing money by the Bakumatsu period (1853-1868). It took the mentality of the Meiji era, onefocused on modernization and productivity, to bringthe mine back to life. Little did Furukawa Ichibe, thenew owner and operator of the mine who took controlin 1877, know that he had awakened a monster.

91




Randy Shilts writes in his seminal account of thecrisis, And the Band Played On, the San FranciscoChronicle acted quite differently than its turn of thecentury predecessor, and was far ahead of the nationalmedia in both reporting the tragic deaths, and pushingthe local government for more action. Subsequently,San Francisco’s AIDS prevention and treatmentprograms were far ahead of other cities such as NewYork.57

Perhaps then, if the Call and Chronicle in 1900-1904 had been out in front of the local healthinspectors, reporting in detail the early gruesomedeaths in Chinatown, local and federal officials wouldhave responded with a unified effort, unburdened withhaving to prove that a disease actually existed. Ironically, the scientific knowledge of the bubonicplague in the early twentieth century was actuallymore advanced than the knowledge of AIDS when itsoutbreak took place in San Francisco. But so mucheffort on the part of Joseph Kinyoun and the earlyhealth officials involved with the plague was spent onfighting a daily press war with the Republican newsconglomerates, that two years went by with littlesubstantive progress. The plague of 1900 will foreverillustrate the coercive power of the press to muddlescientific knowledge and delay impactful action.

Guy Marzorati is a senior History major and PoliticalScience minor at Santa Clara University. He hopes topursue a career in broadcast media.

57 Randy Shilts, And the Band Played On (Boston: St.Martin’s Press, 1987).


Environmental Disaster in Japan

Kathryn Karasek

Japan modernized more rapidly than any othercountry in the modern era. This rapid modernizationdictated the government’s responses to environmentalissues throughout the twentieth century. In this essay,I examine the Minamata disaster and how itepitomized the ideology that grounded thegovernment’s response to environmental disaster. Iargue that, although the climax occurred in the mid-twentieth century, the roots were planted in thebeginning of the century, with the Ashio Copper Minepollution incident. I further examine how theMinamata case affected the government’s approach tothe Fukushima Nuclear Crisis.

The Ashio Copper Mine

Intensive environmental destruction in Japan,coupled with a combative public response to thatdestruction, can be traced to just before the turn of thetwentieth century, when the pollution from the AshioCopper Mine wreaked havoc on the surroundingcountryside and farmers rose up against theirgovernment to save their lands. The Ashio CopperMine had been active since the seventeenth century,but was losing money by the Bakumatsu period (1853-1868). It took the mentality of the Meiji era, onefocused on modernization and productivity, to bringthe mine back to life. Little did Furukawa Ichibe, thenew owner and operator of the mine who took controlin 1877, know that he had awakened a monster.

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Environmental Disaster in Japan 85

Furukawa Ichibe was one of the great entrepreneurialminds of the Meiji era.1 He set out to make the Ashiocopper production competitive on the world stage.2

Progress was slow when he first began production in1877. But, ten years later, global forces pulled Ashiointo the world market. In the late 1880s, the FrenchCopper Syndicate sought to eliminate copper pricefluctuation by creating a French-controlled monopolyon the world copper supply. The syndicate approachedFurukawa to purchase his mine’s output. However,because Furukawa acknowledged his ignorance of “theworld beyond Yokohama,” he refused to sign with theFrench Copper Syndicate itself, and instead signedwith its representative firm, Jardine Matheson &Company.3 A British company, Jardine Matheson hada long and substantial history of mercantile activitiesin East Asia.4 The French Copper Syndicate failed tomanipulate the global copper market successfully andwent bankrupt by 1889. However, Furukawa heldJardine Matheson to the contract. As a result, Ashioowed the British company the incredibly large amountof copper it had promised: the contract called for“19,000 tons of copper to be delivered over 29 monthsstarting in August 1888 at the fixed price of Y20.75 per100 kin (pounds).”5

1 F.G. Notehelfer, “Between Tradition and Modernity: Laborand the Ashio Copper Mine,” Monumenta Nipponica, 39:1 (1984),12 2 Jun Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, (Tokyo: UN UniversityPress, 1992) - Ch. 1, Sec. I 3 F.G. Notehelfer, “Japan’s First Pollution Incident,” Journalof Japanese Studies, 1:2 (1975), 358 4 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 1, Sec. I 5 Notehelfer, “Japan’s First Pollution Incident,” 358


This was the true turning point in the Ashioenvironmental history. In his attempt to join the globalsystem, Furukawa “had contracted far in excess of hismeans;” in fact, he promised almost 1.5 times thecurrent production at his three mine locations, two ofwhich were already operating at maximum capacity.The Ashio mine had to make up the difference.Furukawa thus began a program of “crashmodernization,” and initiated construction of a hydro-electric plant (Japan’s first), to provide electricity forthe mine which greatly increased its productioncapacity.6 Electric motors and pumps increasedproduction, while electric lights in the shafts allowedworkers to work more efficiently. Through thesechanges, Furukawa was able to meet the demands ofhis Jardine Matheson contract, a success heralded asa “great victory for Japan” and perhaps an even greatervictory for Furukawa himself, whose company by 1891produced 47.8% of Japan’s copper (40% coming fromAshio itself).7

Although it cannot be denied that this rapidmodernization was an important step in proving to theworld that Japan was a competitor in the marketplace,at what cost were these victories achieved? The answerto this question may not have been obvious toFurukawa, but it was painfully so to both the laborersat Ashio and to the farmers and fishermen who liveddownstream from the mine. The intense emphasis thatFurukawa put in capital investment in the late 1800sand early 1900s pushed the original means ofproduction, the miners, to a secondary position.

6 Ibid, 359 7 Ibid, 360-61

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Furukawa Ichibe was one of the great entrepreneurialminds of the Meiji era.1 He set out to make the Ashiocopper production competitive on the world stage.2

Progress was slow when he first began production in1877. But, ten years later, global forces pulled Ashiointo the world market. In the late 1880s, the FrenchCopper Syndicate sought to eliminate copper pricefluctuation by creating a French-controlled monopolyon the world copper supply. The syndicate approachedFurukawa to purchase his mine’s output. However,because Furukawa acknowledged his ignorance of “theworld beyond Yokohama,” he refused to sign with theFrench Copper Syndicate itself, and instead signedwith its representative firm, Jardine Matheson &Company.3 A British company, Jardine Matheson hada long and substantial history of mercantile activitiesin East Asia.4 The French Copper Syndicate failed tomanipulate the global copper market successfully andwent bankrupt by 1889. However, Furukawa heldJardine Matheson to the contract. As a result, Ashioowed the British company the incredibly large amountof copper it had promised: the contract called for“19,000 tons of copper to be delivered over 29 monthsstarting in August 1888 at the fixed price of Y20.75 per100 kin (pounds).”5

1 F.G. Notehelfer, “Between Tradition and Modernity: Laborand the Ashio Copper Mine,” Monumenta Nipponica, 39:1 (1984),12 2 Jun Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, (Tokyo: UN UniversityPress, 1992) - Ch. 1, Sec. I 3 F.G. Notehelfer, “Japan’s First Pollution Incident,” Journalof Japanese Studies, 1:2 (1975), 358 4 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 1, Sec. I 5 Notehelfer, “Japan’s First Pollution Incident,” 358


This was the true turning point in the Ashioenvironmental history. In his attempt to join the globalsystem, Furukawa “had contracted far in excess of hismeans;” in fact, he promised almost 1.5 times thecurrent production at his three mine locations, two ofwhich were already operating at maximum capacity.The Ashio mine had to make up the difference.Furukawa thus began a program of “crashmodernization,” and initiated construction of a hydro-electric plant (Japan’s first), to provide electricity forthe mine which greatly increased its productioncapacity.6 Electric motors and pumps increasedproduction, while electric lights in the shafts allowedworkers to work more efficiently. Through thesechanges, Furukawa was able to meet the demands ofhis Jardine Matheson contract, a success heralded asa “great victory for Japan” and perhaps an even greatervictory for Furukawa himself, whose company by 1891produced 47.8% of Japan’s copper (40% coming fromAshio itself).7

Although it cannot be denied that this rapidmodernization was an important step in proving to theworld that Japan was a competitor in the marketplace,at what cost were these victories achieved? The answerto this question may not have been obvious toFurukawa, but it was painfully so to both the laborersat Ashio and to the farmers and fishermen who liveddownstream from the mine. The intense emphasis thatFurukawa put in capital investment in the late 1800sand early 1900s pushed the original means ofproduction, the miners, to a secondary position.

6 Ibid, 359 7 Ibid, 360-61

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Furukawa thus turned his focus away frommodernizing the labor force and towards modernizingthe technology used in the mine. This allowed theperpetuation of a hierarchical social structure withinthe mine, a structure that would prevent effective labororganization or unionization until well into thetwentieth century, exacerbating the frustration of thelaborers.8

By the time of the Russo-Japanese War in 1905-1906, it became clear to the miners that Furukawaprioritized his new technology over the wellbeing of hisworkers. This dangerous combination of polarizationand pauperization culminated in 1907 with “thegreatest outbreak of violence in modern Japaneselabor history.”9 The Ashio riot of 1907 resulted fromneglect on the part of the mine officials, corruptionwithin the management structure, and the lack of anestablished outlet for the frustrations of Ashiolaborers. The riot set miners against their supervisorsin a conflict that lasted until the labor disputes of1919, when the management was restructured.10 Ona smaller scale, the 1907 riot was representative of thesocietal tensions of the era, especially the pitting of bigbusiness and management against the laborers ofwhom dramatic sacrifices were demanded for the sakeof national economic development. Eventually, thetensions built to a breaking point. This formed aparallel with the case of the farmers dealing with thedestruction caused by the Ashio mine as well as those

8 Notehelfer, “Between Tradition and Modernity,” 23 9 Ibid, 24 10 Kazuo Nimura, The Ashio Riot of 1907: A Social History ofMining in Japan, (Durham: Duke University Press, 1997), 153


who suffered from Minamata Disease in the mid-twentieth century.

The group that suffered even more than the minelaborers were the farmers who lived downstream fromthe mine. By the late 1880s, “almost all marine life inboth rivers (the Watarase and the Tone) was dead,”eliminating the livelihoods of thousands of fishermen.11

In addition, farmers who lived along the riversidesuffered. Because of the deforestation undertaken byAshio to get enough wood to keep the mine running atmaximum capacity, the watershed at the head of theWatarase was destroyed. With the watershed gone,flooding became a serious issue. The water thatoverran the fields was not replenishing as “poisonoussilt from the mine rendered once-rich agriculturallands a moonscape.”12 Not only was almost allvegetation killed, but farmers who came in contactwith the water developed sores upon contact. The riverof their livelihoods had become the “River of Death.”13

When faced with the disaster and destructioncaused by the mine runoff, the citizens appealed totheir government. These appeals were indicative of thenew political system in Japan around the turn of thecentury. Appealing to the Diet, the representative andlegislative branch of government, a coalition of villageleaders submitted a formal petition in 1891 asking forthe “removal of the pollution and a temporary closureof the Ashio Copper Mine.”14 In line with a pattern that

11 Notehelfer, “Japan’s First Pollution Incident,” 361-62 12 Brett L. Walker, Toxic Archipelago: A History of IndustrialDisease in Japan, (University of Washington: WeyerhaeuserEnvironmental Books, 2009), 71 13 Notehelfer, “Japan’s First Pollution Incident,” 363 14 Ibid, 363

95




Furukawa thus turned his focus away frommodernizing the labor force and towards modernizingthe technology used in the mine. This allowed theperpetuation of a hierarchical social structure withinthe mine, a structure that would prevent effective labororganization or unionization until well into thetwentieth century, exacerbating the frustration of thelaborers.8

By the time of the Russo-Japanese War in 1905-1906, it became clear to the miners that Furukawaprioritized his new technology over the wellbeing of hisworkers. This dangerous combination of polarizationand pauperization culminated in 1907 with “thegreatest outbreak of violence in modern Japaneselabor history.”9 The Ashio riot of 1907 resulted fromneglect on the part of the mine officials, corruptionwithin the management structure, and the lack of anestablished outlet for the frustrations of Ashiolaborers. The riot set miners against their supervisorsin a conflict that lasted until the labor disputes of1919, when the management was restructured.10 Ona smaller scale, the 1907 riot was representative of thesocietal tensions of the era, especially the pitting of bigbusiness and management against the laborers ofwhom dramatic sacrifices were demanded for the sakeof national economic development. Eventually, thetensions built to a breaking point. This formed aparallel with the case of the farmers dealing with thedestruction caused by the Ashio mine as well as those

8 Notehelfer, “Between Tradition and Modernity,” 23 9 Ibid, 24 10 Kazuo Nimura, The Ashio Riot of 1907: A Social History ofMining in Japan, (Durham: Duke University Press, 1997), 153


who suffered from Minamata Disease in the mid-twentieth century.

The group that suffered even more than the minelaborers were the farmers who lived downstream fromthe mine. By the late 1880s, “almost all marine life inboth rivers (the Watarase and the Tone) was dead,”eliminating the livelihoods of thousands of fishermen.11

In addition, farmers who lived along the riversidesuffered. Because of the deforestation undertaken byAshio to get enough wood to keep the mine running atmaximum capacity, the watershed at the head of theWatarase was destroyed. With the watershed gone,flooding became a serious issue. The water thatoverran the fields was not replenishing as “poisonoussilt from the mine rendered once-rich agriculturallands a moonscape.”12 Not only was almost allvegetation killed, but farmers who came in contactwith the water developed sores upon contact. The riverof their livelihoods had become the “River of Death.”13

When faced with the disaster and destructioncaused by the mine runoff, the citizens appealed totheir government. These appeals were indicative of thenew political system in Japan around the turn of thecentury. Appealing to the Diet, the representative andlegislative branch of government, a coalition of villageleaders submitted a formal petition in 1891 asking forthe “removal of the pollution and a temporary closureof the Ashio Copper Mine.”14 In line with a pattern that

11 Notehelfer, “Japan’s First Pollution Incident,” 361-62 12 Brett L. Walker, Toxic Archipelago: A History of IndustrialDisease in Japan, (University of Washington: WeyerhaeuserEnvironmental Books, 2009), 71 13 Notehelfer, “Japan’s First Pollution Incident,” 363 14 Ibid, 363

96




would become painfully repetitive over the nextcentury, their petition was dismissed, and thegovernment denied that the mine had caused anyharm. One of the most frustrating aspects of thisdismissal was the fact that there was a specific law inplace, the Japanese Mining Law of 1892, which wasmeant to protect the public interest against potentialharm caused by mines such as Ashio. It appears thatpublic interest was considered secondary to the morepowerful interests of profit and economic development.

With their government ignoring their requests, thevillagers were forced to deal with Furukawa and Ashioon a private level, undertaking a system of localsettlements. These settlements were effectivelyindemnity payments to keep the villagers silent forfour years, or until 1896. The agreement also includeda clause that said Furukawa would, by June of 1893,install new equipment to prevent future pollution fromAshio. It became apparent, however, that conditions inthe affected regions were deteriorating, not improving;“Furukawa's promised technological improvementswere all a hoax, or, if not a hoax, then a dismalfailure.”15

One of the key variables in this conflict came tolight in 1895, when Japanese soldiers returned homefrom the Sino-Japanese War. Having just fought fortheir country, these soldiers were horrified to learnthat their families and communities had been treatedso unjustly while they were away at war. They camehome to increasingly high infant mortality rates andfertility problems due to poisoning from the mine. Thelivelihoods of their families had been destroyed, and

15 Ibid, 368


the government as a whole refused to acknowledgetheir pain. The return of these soldiers brought a “newmilitancy” and a renewed resolve to the region. After adevastating flood in 1896, villagers from four affectedprefectures sent a new petition to the governmentcalling for the closing of the mine, and for thereduction of taxes in the affected regions while theyrecovered.16

The government’s reaction to such activities set animportant precedent for how they would deal withenvironmental issues in the future. While the publicresponse grew, the majority of members of governmentcontinued to downplay the significance of the issue.The government issued an ambiguous order that calledon the Furukawa Company to undertake preventativeconstruction, but it did not give specific guidelines, nordid it establish a timeline for implementation.

The exception to this governmental refusal toaccept responsibility for the health and safety of itscitizens was the Diet representative from TochigiPrefecture, Tanaka Shozo. Early on, he accused thegovernment of avoiding the pollution question and ofputting the mine and its profits ahead of the wellbeingof the citizens. The government was committed “to thetype of industrialization that Ashio represented.”17

They were unable to find a balance between rapidmodernization (the desire to catch up technologicallyto the major trading powers of the day), and theremedying of collateral damage from such activities.

When their appeals to the governmental failed, thecitizens once again turned to private coercion, albeit

16 Ibid, 368-69 17 Ibid, 368

97




would become painfully repetitive over the nextcentury, their petition was dismissed, and thegovernment denied that the mine had caused anyharm. One of the most frustrating aspects of thisdismissal was the fact that there was a specific law inplace, the Japanese Mining Law of 1892, which wasmeant to protect the public interest against potentialharm caused by mines such as Ashio. It appears thatpublic interest was considered secondary to the morepowerful interests of profit and economic development.

With their government ignoring their requests, thevillagers were forced to deal with Furukawa and Ashioon a private level, undertaking a system of localsettlements. These settlements were effectivelyindemnity payments to keep the villagers silent forfour years, or until 1896. The agreement also includeda clause that said Furukawa would, by June of 1893,install new equipment to prevent future pollution fromAshio. It became apparent, however, that conditions inthe affected regions were deteriorating, not improving;“Furukawa's promised technological improvementswere all a hoax, or, if not a hoax, then a dismalfailure.”15

One of the key variables in this conflict came tolight in 1895, when Japanese soldiers returned homefrom the Sino-Japanese War. Having just fought fortheir country, these soldiers were horrified to learnthat their families and communities had been treatedso unjustly while they were away at war. They camehome to increasingly high infant mortality rates andfertility problems due to poisoning from the mine. Thelivelihoods of their families had been destroyed, and

15 Ibid, 368


the government as a whole refused to acknowledgetheir pain. The return of these soldiers brought a “newmilitancy” and a renewed resolve to the region. After adevastating flood in 1896, villagers from four affectedprefectures sent a new petition to the governmentcalling for the closing of the mine, and for thereduction of taxes in the affected regions while theyrecovered.16

The government’s reaction to such activities set animportant precedent for how they would deal withenvironmental issues in the future. While the publicresponse grew, the majority of members of governmentcontinued to downplay the significance of the issue.The government issued an ambiguous order that calledon the Furukawa Company to undertake preventativeconstruction, but it did not give specific guidelines, nordid it establish a timeline for implementation.

The exception to this governmental refusal toaccept responsibility for the health and safety of itscitizens was the Diet representative from TochigiPrefecture, Tanaka Shozo. Early on, he accused thegovernment of avoiding the pollution question and ofputting the mine and its profits ahead of the wellbeingof the citizens. The government was committed “to thetype of industrialization that Ashio represented.”17

They were unable to find a balance between rapidmodernization (the desire to catch up technologicallyto the major trading powers of the day), and theremedying of collateral damage from such activities.

When their appeals to the governmental failed, thecitizens once again turned to private coercion, albeit

16 Ibid, 368-69 17 Ibid, 368

98




with a new target. They persuaded leading politiciansto visit the affected region, and these men were “deeplydisturbed” by what they saw. Their discoveries,coupled with the rising tide of militant activism fromthe villagers, led to a governmental decision to act. In1897, after apologizing for their prior inaction, thegovernment issued a new set of specific orders withactions required by the Furukawa Company.18 Just asFurukawa had undertaken crash modernization in theprevious decade, he was now forced to undertake acrash program to implement the necessary changes,changes that should have been put into affect tenyears earlier. The violence of the anti-pollutionmovement slowly died down, the farms downstreambegan to recover, and the problem was eclipsed by theRusso-Japanese War of 1904-05.

Within the context of Ashio, modernity served toboth attack and then to mend the damage in thecountryside. Although rapid technologicalmodernization was responsible for the pollution,farmers were also able to use modern politicalinstitutions—petitions, extensive research andappeals, the court system—to remedy the situation.This demonstrates the powerful change in mentality atthe time: not all modern institutions were out to attackthe people. Instead, citizens figured out how to fightfire with fire. However, Ashio remains a scar on thelandscape of Japan to this day, serving as a painfulreminder of what happens when a powerfulgovernment prioritizes profit over people, and gives thestate ultimate power over its citizens.

18 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 1, Sec. III


Minamata Mercury Poisoning

The second major pollution incident of thetwentieth century, the case of Minamata mercurypoisoning, occurred almost half a century after theAisho mine tragedy. Many of the themes that definedthe Ashio Copper Mine incident also pervaded theMinamata situation: government unresponsiveness,the prioritization of profit over popular wellbeing, andthe ensuing protest on behalf of those harmed by suchdecisions.

Minamata was a small fishing and farming villagein southern Kyushu which also produced salt. Whenthat product, which was critical to Minimata’seconomic security, came under government monopoly,village leaders decided to pursue other forms ofindustrialization. In 1909, chemist Noguchi Jun waslooking for a site to construct a “carbide productionplant that would use surplus electricity from a hydro-electric power plant.”19 Minamata leaders offered theuse of the land that had previously been used for saltproduction, as well as use of the bay, andinfrastructural support from the local officials. At first,working with Noguchi’s enterprise seemed to be goingwell for the tiny village. It had done its part to usher ina new era of industrialization and modernization.

Unfortunately, the product did not sell well.Carbide was a specialized product, and “its main usewas as a light source in night fishing.” Adapting to thecircumstances, Noguchi’s Chisso Company beganusing carbide to make fertilizer. World War I gave thecompany a monopoly on the chemical fertilizer

19 Ibid, Ch. 4, Sec. I

99




with a new target. They persuaded leading politiciansto visit the affected region, and these men were “deeplydisturbed” by what they saw. Their discoveries,coupled with the rising tide of militant activism fromthe villagers, led to a governmental decision to act. In1897, after apologizing for their prior inaction, thegovernment issued a new set of specific orders withactions required by the Furukawa Company.18 Just asFurukawa had undertaken crash modernization in theprevious decade, he was now forced to undertake acrash program to implement the necessary changes,changes that should have been put into affect tenyears earlier. The violence of the anti-pollutionmovement slowly died down, the farms downstreambegan to recover, and the problem was eclipsed by theRusso-Japanese War of 1904-05.

Within the context of Ashio, modernity served toboth attack and then to mend the damage in thecountryside. Although rapid technologicalmodernization was responsible for the pollution,farmers were also able to use modern politicalinstitutions—petitions, extensive research andappeals, the court system—to remedy the situation.This demonstrates the powerful change in mentality atthe time: not all modern institutions were out to attackthe people. Instead, citizens figured out how to fightfire with fire. However, Ashio remains a scar on thelandscape of Japan to this day, serving as a painfulreminder of what happens when a powerfulgovernment prioritizes profit over people, and gives thestate ultimate power over its citizens.

18 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 1, Sec. III


Minamata Mercury Poisoning

The second major pollution incident of thetwentieth century, the case of Minamata mercurypoisoning, occurred almost half a century after theAisho mine tragedy. Many of the themes that definedthe Ashio Copper Mine incident also pervaded theMinamata situation: government unresponsiveness,the prioritization of profit over popular wellbeing, andthe ensuing protest on behalf of those harmed by suchdecisions.

Minamata was a small fishing and farming villagein southern Kyushu which also produced salt. Whenthat product, which was critical to Minimata’seconomic security, came under government monopoly,village leaders decided to pursue other forms ofindustrialization. In 1909, chemist Noguchi Jun waslooking for a site to construct a “carbide productionplant that would use surplus electricity from a hydro-electric power plant.”19 Minamata leaders offered theuse of the land that had previously been used for saltproduction, as well as use of the bay, andinfrastructural support from the local officials. At first,working with Noguchi’s enterprise seemed to be goingwell for the tiny village. It had done its part to usher ina new era of industrialization and modernization.

Unfortunately, the product did not sell well.Carbide was a specialized product, and “its main usewas as a light source in night fishing.” Adapting to thecircumstances, Noguchi’s Chisso Company beganusing carbide to make fertilizer. World War I gave thecompany a monopoly on the chemical fertilizer

19 Ibid, Ch. 4, Sec. I

100




industry and kept the company alive. However, it wasevident that Chisso still needed to advance and adaptif it was to maintain this competitiveness. Noguchitraveled to Europe to explore new methods forammonia synthesis for fertilizer production. He wasimpressed with the Haber-Bosch process, which wasa new technology even in Europe, and “was for Japanthe first experience of ammonia synthesis and the firstintroduction of high-pressure gas technology.”20 Thecompany introduced plants in Japan and Korea andcontinued to increase their competitive edge in themarketplace. Selecting only students from the top oftheir respective classes, both management and laborwere held to the highest standards. As explained by UiJun, “the employment of high-quality low-paid workerswas the basis upon which Japan's industrial strengthwas built.”21

With the rise of militarism in the 1930s, Chisso wasin a prime position to capitalize on their governmentalconnections. By this time, Noguchi had establishedhimself as a military sympathizer and imperialist.22

Chisso formed its own financial conglomerate by 1933,and remained successful by providing the military withacetaldehyde, a key material for the petroleumchemical industry.23 Mercury was a byproduct of thisproduction and was dumped, untreated, into

20 Ibid, Ch. 4, Sec. I 21 Ibid, Ch. 4, Sec. II 22 Barbara Molony, Technology and Investment: The PrewarJapanese Chemical Industry, (Cambridge, Mass.: HarvardUniversity Press, 1990), 156 23 Ibid, 186


Minamata Bay.24 As early as 1926, fishermen in Minamata Bay

began to notice the side effects of the untreated wasteproducts being dumped in the water. However,complaints were pushed aside, just as they had beenat Ashio almost thirty years earlier. In a mannersimilar to the “local settlements” offered to affectedfarmers at Ashio, fishermen received compensationwith the condition that they stop complaining.25 Effortsto increase production were prioritized above thehuman environment, and the government supportedcompany over citizen. Pollutants continued to bedumped in Minamata Bay for the next three decades.

Although its munitions division was shut downduring the American Occupation of Japan (1945-1952), Minamata managed to avoid the most direstagnation and depression following World War II bycontinuing to produce fertilizer, which helped toreestablish Japan’s agricultural production.26 Througha strategic selection of the optimal goods to produce,and through creativity and innovation, Chisso“experienced a second golden era during the 1950s,”and quickly regained its position as a monopolypower.27

The people of Minamata managed to avoid the post-war economic devastation that gripped most of Japan

24 Paul Almeida and Linda Brewster Stearns, “PoliticalOpportunities and Local Grassroots Environmental Movements:The Case of Minamata,” Social Problems, 45:1 (1998), 42 25 Timothy S. George, Minamata: Pollution and the Strugglefor Democracy in Postwar Japan, (Boston: Harvard UniversityPress, 2001), 74 26 George, Minamata, 40 27 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 4, Sec. III

101




industry and kept the company alive. However, it wasevident that Chisso still needed to advance and adaptif it was to maintain this competitiveness. Noguchitraveled to Europe to explore new methods forammonia synthesis for fertilizer production. He wasimpressed with the Haber-Bosch process, which wasa new technology even in Europe, and “was for Japanthe first experience of ammonia synthesis and the firstintroduction of high-pressure gas technology.”20 Thecompany introduced plants in Japan and Korea andcontinued to increase their competitive edge in themarketplace. Selecting only students from the top oftheir respective classes, both management and laborwere held to the highest standards. As explained by UiJun, “the employment of high-quality low-paid workerswas the basis upon which Japan's industrial strengthwas built.”21

With the rise of militarism in the 1930s, Chisso wasin a prime position to capitalize on their governmentalconnections. By this time, Noguchi had establishedhimself as a military sympathizer and imperialist.22

Chisso formed its own financial conglomerate by 1933,and remained successful by providing the military withacetaldehyde, a key material for the petroleumchemical industry.23 Mercury was a byproduct of thisproduction and was dumped, untreated, into

20 Ibid, Ch. 4, Sec. I 21 Ibid, Ch. 4, Sec. II 22 Barbara Molony, Technology and Investment: The PrewarJapanese Chemical Industry, (Cambridge, Mass.: HarvardUniversity Press, 1990), 156 23 Ibid, 186


Minamata Bay.24 As early as 1926, fishermen in Minamata Bay

began to notice the side effects of the untreated wasteproducts being dumped in the water. However,complaints were pushed aside, just as they had beenat Ashio almost thirty years earlier. In a mannersimilar to the “local settlements” offered to affectedfarmers at Ashio, fishermen received compensationwith the condition that they stop complaining.25 Effortsto increase production were prioritized above thehuman environment, and the government supportedcompany over citizen. Pollutants continued to bedumped in Minamata Bay for the next three decades.

Although its munitions division was shut downduring the American Occupation of Japan (1945-1952), Minamata managed to avoid the most direstagnation and depression following World War II bycontinuing to produce fertilizer, which helped toreestablish Japan’s agricultural production.26 Througha strategic selection of the optimal goods to produce,and through creativity and innovation, Chisso“experienced a second golden era during the 1950s,”and quickly regained its position as a monopolypower.27

The people of Minamata managed to avoid the post-war economic devastation that gripped most of Japan

24 Paul Almeida and Linda Brewster Stearns, “PoliticalOpportunities and Local Grassroots Environmental Movements:The Case of Minamata,” Social Problems, 45:1 (1998), 42 25 Timothy S. George, Minamata: Pollution and the Strugglefor Democracy in Postwar Japan, (Boston: Harvard UniversityPress, 2001), 74 26 George, Minamata, 40 27 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 4, Sec. III

102




until the mid-1950s, and thus felt indebted to theChisso plant. The majority of the village’s tax revenuecame from the company and directly related incomesources.28 The mayor of Minamata—which had grownto become a city in 1949—and the city councilmembers also consisted primarily of former Chissomanagers and union members. Chisso and Minamatahad become so fully intertwined that they hadeffectively become a single system. But this systemwas not based on democracy, or even the wellbeing ofall of its components. Rather, it was effectively a returnto the feudal system of medieval Japan, where oneparty had complete financial and political control overthe other. This internal “hierarchical socialstratification,” coupled with the external support ofChisso by both the local and national governments,made it structurally very difficult for the people toassert themselves and their rights regarding theirenvironment.29 This pattern replicated that of the laborforce at Ashio at the turn of the century. As at Ashio,this system led to civil unrest and a movement againstthose at the top of the hierarchy. By 1955, thesituation became dire and those who ate the fish fromMinamata Bay developed a sickness that wasmysterious, debilitating, and fatal.

The Minamata anti-pollution movement can bebroken down into distinct time periods which differedin public action and in government response. PaulAlmeida and Linda Stearns break the struggle into four

28 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 42 29 Barbara Molony, review of Minamata: Pollution and theStruggle for Democracy in Postwar Japan by Timothy S. George,Bulletin of the History of Medicine, 77:2 (2003), 460


stages, beginning in the mid-1950s with “early effortsto understand what was happening in Minamata.”30

Municipal health authorities Hosokawa Hajime andIto Hasuo headed the initial investigation. Forming aStrange Disease Countermeasures Committee, theycompleted a house-to-house survey that revealed moreand more victims of the mysterious disease. After aperiod of door-to-door surveying, the investigationretreated to the laboratory at Kumamoto UniversityMedical School. When the local community realizedthat heavy metal poisoning was the source of theproblem, and that this heavy metal waste likely camefrom the factory, they became uncooperative. Asfrightening as the disease may have been, it occurredinfrequently enough that the people were more willingto risk a small chance of contracting the disease, thanthey were willing to compromise their city’s economicsuccess. The company itself was even less willing tocooperate. From providing faulty and fabricatedsamples, to a disastrous human experiment in 1958that involved “switching the discharge of theacetaldehyde plant’s wastewater from HyakkenHarbour to the mouth of the Minamata River,”31 it wasevident that the company suspected it was at fault butrefused to risk its profit. In fact, “testimony given incourt at a later date proved that, at the time of themimaikin (sympathy payment) signing, Chisso alreadyknew, from its own research scientists, that it wasresponsible for the mercury poisoning.”32

Social action heightened in 1959 when the

30 Timothy S. George, Minamata, 47 31 George, Minamata, 54 32 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 43

103




until the mid-1950s, and thus felt indebted to theChisso plant. The majority of the village’s tax revenuecame from the company and directly related incomesources.28 The mayor of Minamata—which had grownto become a city in 1949—and the city councilmembers also consisted primarily of former Chissomanagers and union members. Chisso and Minamatahad become so fully intertwined that they hadeffectively become a single system. But this systemwas not based on democracy, or even the wellbeing ofall of its components. Rather, it was effectively a returnto the feudal system of medieval Japan, where oneparty had complete financial and political control overthe other. This internal “hierarchical socialstratification,” coupled with the external support ofChisso by both the local and national governments,made it structurally very difficult for the people toassert themselves and their rights regarding theirenvironment.29 This pattern replicated that of the laborforce at Ashio at the turn of the century. As at Ashio,this system led to civil unrest and a movement againstthose at the top of the hierarchy. By 1955, thesituation became dire and those who ate the fish fromMinamata Bay developed a sickness that wasmysterious, debilitating, and fatal.

The Minamata anti-pollution movement can bebroken down into distinct time periods which differedin public action and in government response. PaulAlmeida and Linda Stearns break the struggle into four

28 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 42 29 Barbara Molony, review of Minamata: Pollution and theStruggle for Democracy in Postwar Japan by Timothy S. George,Bulletin of the History of Medicine, 77:2 (2003), 460


stages, beginning in the mid-1950s with “early effortsto understand what was happening in Minamata.”30

Municipal health authorities Hosokawa Hajime andIto Hasuo headed the initial investigation. Forming aStrange Disease Countermeasures Committee, theycompleted a house-to-house survey that revealed moreand more victims of the mysterious disease. After aperiod of door-to-door surveying, the investigationretreated to the laboratory at Kumamoto UniversityMedical School. When the local community realizedthat heavy metal poisoning was the source of theproblem, and that this heavy metal waste likely camefrom the factory, they became uncooperative. Asfrightening as the disease may have been, it occurredinfrequently enough that the people were more willingto risk a small chance of contracting the disease, thanthey were willing to compromise their city’s economicsuccess. The company itself was even less willing tocooperate. From providing faulty and fabricatedsamples, to a disastrous human experiment in 1958that involved “switching the discharge of theacetaldehyde plant’s wastewater from HyakkenHarbour to the mouth of the Minamata River,”31 it wasevident that the company suspected it was at fault butrefused to risk its profit. In fact, “testimony given incourt at a later date proved that, at the time of themimaikin (sympathy payment) signing, Chisso alreadyknew, from its own research scientists, that it wasresponsible for the mercury poisoning.”32

Social action heightened in 1959 when the

30 Timothy S. George, Minamata, 47 31 George, Minamata, 54 32 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 43

104




Minamata Fishermen's Association, and the FushimiSea Fishermen's Association, demanded compensationfrom the company for damage perpetrated by thechemical complex.33 The company decided to pay asmall amount of sympathy money, a mimaikin, to theaffected parties, but refused to admit culpability orchange their waste disposal system.34 In response totheir inaction, fishermen held a rally demanding thatthe Diet act on their behalf. In fact, “on the way homefrom this rally, [the fishermen] broke into the groundsof the chemical complex and destroyed officeequipment.”35 For their actions, many fishermen werearrested by the prefectural police, and werecondemned by the government and the labor unionsassociated with the plant.36 There was a distinct dividebetween the fishermen affected by the Minamatapollution and the laborers who depended upon it fortheir livelihood. This divide reflected the pervasivetension between profit and public interest. Thefishermen, like the farmers from Ashio, were no matchfor a “powerful, cohesive elite” made up of wealthyfactory and government officials.37

The company was able to get away with superficialfixes, similar to those improvements promised early onat Ashio. For example, the company installed a devicewith the improbable name of “Cyclator,” that wouldsupposedly clean toxic waste before it was dumpedinto the bay. This was a powerful public relations toolmore than it was a solution to the pollution problem,

33 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 4, Sec. V 34 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 43 35 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 4, Sec. V 36 George, Minamata, 93 37 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 44


especially when the company president, YoshiokaKiichi, pretended to drink “a glass of water from theCyclator in front of... assembled dignitaries, includingGovernor Teramoto.”38 However, just as Furukawa didnot follow through on his promises to decrease thepollution from Ashio, the Minamata officials wereobstinately unwilling to change their behavior. Thecompany lawyer later admitted that the machine wasnever intended to remove organic mercury, which iswhy Yoshioka did not actually drink the real wastewater from the plant. Again, it was evident that thecompany knew the danger of the waste products, theyjust did not care enough to clean them up.

The second period of Minamata action was one of“expanding political opportunities.”39 Between 1964-68, external allies began to prove integral to the cause.A pollution case similar to that in Minamata developedin Niigata Prefecture. The main difference was thatlocal officials in Niigata sided, not with the plant, butwith the victims. Unlike the Minamata case, theNiigata plant was not integral to the local economy,and, therefore, there was little political risk todemanding that it cease its dangerous activities. TheNiigata officials demanded this through a lawsuit, atactic that Minamata victims would later adapt andutilize in the subsequent decade. In 1971, however,the action of the Niigata victims was radical andunprecedented within Japan.40 It flew directly in theface of the traditional hierarchical structures ofJapanese society. This was the last straw, and anti-

38 George, Minamata, 115 39 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 44 40 George, Minamata, 174-76

105




Minamata Fishermen's Association, and the FushimiSea Fishermen's Association, demanded compensationfrom the company for damage perpetrated by thechemical complex.33 The company decided to pay asmall amount of sympathy money, a mimaikin, to theaffected parties, but refused to admit culpability orchange their waste disposal system.34 In response totheir inaction, fishermen held a rally demanding thatthe Diet act on their behalf. In fact, “on the way homefrom this rally, [the fishermen] broke into the groundsof the chemical complex and destroyed officeequipment.”35 For their actions, many fishermen werearrested by the prefectural police, and werecondemned by the government and the labor unionsassociated with the plant.36 There was a distinct dividebetween the fishermen affected by the Minamatapollution and the laborers who depended upon it fortheir livelihood. This divide reflected the pervasivetension between profit and public interest. Thefishermen, like the farmers from Ashio, were no matchfor a “powerful, cohesive elite” made up of wealthyfactory and government officials.37

The company was able to get away with superficialfixes, similar to those improvements promised early onat Ashio. For example, the company installed a devicewith the improbable name of “Cyclator,” that wouldsupposedly clean toxic waste before it was dumpedinto the bay. This was a powerful public relations toolmore than it was a solution to the pollution problem,

33 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 4, Sec. V 34 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 43 35 Ui, Industrial Pollution in Japan, Ch. 4, Sec. V 36 George, Minamata, 93 37 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 44


especially when the company president, YoshiokaKiichi, pretended to drink “a glass of water from theCyclator in front of... assembled dignitaries, includingGovernor Teramoto.”38 However, just as Furukawa didnot follow through on his promises to decrease thepollution from Ashio, the Minamata officials wereobstinately unwilling to change their behavior. Thecompany lawyer later admitted that the machine wasnever intended to remove organic mercury, which iswhy Yoshioka did not actually drink the real wastewater from the plant. Again, it was evident that thecompany knew the danger of the waste products, theyjust did not care enough to clean them up.

The second period of Minamata action was one of“expanding political opportunities.”39 Between 1964-68, external allies began to prove integral to the cause.A pollution case similar to that in Minamata developedin Niigata Prefecture. The main difference was thatlocal officials in Niigata sided, not with the plant, butwith the victims. Unlike the Minamata case, theNiigata plant was not integral to the local economy,and, therefore, there was little political risk todemanding that it cease its dangerous activities. TheNiigata officials demanded this through a lawsuit, atactic that Minamata victims would later adapt andutilize in the subsequent decade. In 1971, however,the action of the Niigata victims was radical andunprecedented within Japan.40 It flew directly in theface of the traditional hierarchical structures ofJapanese society. This was the last straw, and anti-

38 George, Minamata, 115 39 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 44 40 George, Minamata, 174-76

106




pollution activity soon rapidly increased. Workers atChisso noted this development and adapted, breakinginto two factions within the company labor union. Onefaction, the “old” union, issued a “Shame Declaration,”apologizing for siding with the company, instead ofwith the victims of Minamata Disease.41

The third period of action continued theadvancements made during the second period andencompassed both external and internal action. Therewere three levels of activity in this period. The firstlevel were the popular movements by parties externalto the Minamata destruction, such as the studentmovement. The years between 1969-74 were already atime of heightened political unrest, especially amongyoung people. The Vietnam War protests anddisillusionment with big government on a global leveltrickled down to the environmental movement.Students in Tokyo and students at KumamotoUniversity united with locals in protesting the actionsof Chisso.

The second level was the action taken by thepollution victims themselves, most notably their courtvictory in 1973 in conjunction with the other Big Fourpollution cases. “With the Big Four pollution casesoccurring during a widespread national anti-pollutionsocial movement, there was public pressure forfavorable verdicts.” Chisso was forced to publiclyacknowledge the destruction they had caused and topay the largest court settlement paid to citizens inJapanese history, “a total of ¥930 million ($3.6million).”42

41 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 45-46 42 Ibid, 50


The third and final level of action was thegovernment response to the popular movement. Afterpassing a Basic Law for Pollution Control in 1967, thegovernment continued to grant limited concessions toMinamata victims, including the 1970 “LawConcerning Relief of Pollution-related Health Damage”and the “Compensation Law.”43 This is akin to thestage at Ashio in which the government forcedFurukawa to clean up or shut down. The difference,however, is that the government followed through ontheir enforcement of such demands at Ashio, andcontinued to support the farmers for the benefit ofagricultural stability. Sadly, in Minamata, this was notthe case.

In the fourth stage of the larger movement, thegovernment diverted from its path of graduallygranting more concessions to the disease victims, andreturned to its hard-line policies of the 1950s andearly 1960s. The national anti-pollution movement loststeam with the stagnation of the economy after 1974.Citizens no longer had the luxury of dedicating freetime to social movements, and did not press thegovernment to maintain their dedication to addressingthe victims’ problems. In the same way thatgovernment officials put public wellbeing on hold tomodernize the mining industry at Ashio in order tocompete on the world market, the governmentresponded to the financial crisis by allying with bigbusiness. Although the Japanese government took afew small steps forward in the late 1960s and early1970s, it took a big step back in terms of civil rights

43 “Minamata Disease: The History and Measures,” TheMinistry of the Environment, (2002), Section 2

107




pollution activity soon rapidly increased. Workers atChisso noted this development and adapted, breakinginto two factions within the company labor union. Onefaction, the “old” union, issued a “Shame Declaration,”apologizing for siding with the company, instead ofwith the victims of Minamata Disease.41

The third period of action continued theadvancements made during the second period andencompassed both external and internal action. Therewere three levels of activity in this period. The firstlevel were the popular movements by parties externalto the Minamata destruction, such as the studentmovement. The years between 1969-74 were already atime of heightened political unrest, especially amongyoung people. The Vietnam War protests anddisillusionment with big government on a global leveltrickled down to the environmental movement.Students in Tokyo and students at KumamotoUniversity united with locals in protesting the actionsof Chisso.

The second level was the action taken by thepollution victims themselves, most notably their courtvictory in 1973 in conjunction with the other Big Fourpollution cases. “With the Big Four pollution casesoccurring during a widespread national anti-pollutionsocial movement, there was public pressure forfavorable verdicts.” Chisso was forced to publiclyacknowledge the destruction they had caused and topay the largest court settlement paid to citizens inJapanese history, “a total of ¥930 million ($3.6million).”42

41 Almeida and Stearns, “The Case of Minamata,” 45-46 42 Ibid, 50


The third and final level of action was thegovernment response to the popular movement. Afterpassing a Basic Law for Pollution Control in 1967, thegovernment continued to grant limited concessions toMinamata victims, including the 1970 “LawConcerning Relief of Pollution-related Health Damage”and the “Compensation Law.”43 This is akin to thestage at Ashio in which the government forcedFurukawa to clean up or shut down. The difference,however, is that the government followed through ontheir enforcement of such demands at Ashio, andcontinued to support the farmers for the benefit ofagricultural stability. Sadly, in Minamata, this was notthe case.

In the fourth stage of the larger movement, thegovernment diverted from its path of graduallygranting more concessions to the disease victims, andreturned to its hard-line policies of the 1950s andearly 1960s. The national anti-pollution movement loststeam with the stagnation of the economy after 1974.Citizens no longer had the luxury of dedicating freetime to social movements, and did not press thegovernment to maintain their dedication to addressingthe victims’ problems. In the same way thatgovernment officials put public wellbeing on hold tomodernize the mining industry at Ashio in order tocompete on the world market, the governmentresponded to the financial crisis by allying with bigbusiness. Although the Japanese government took afew small steps forward in the late 1960s and early1970s, it took a big step back in terms of civil rights

43 “Minamata Disease: The History and Measures,” TheMinistry of the Environment, (2002), Section 2

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following the oil crisis of 1973-74.Settlements made following this economic and

political stagnation were more akin to the mimaikin ofthe 1950s, as the state receded into a refusal to acceptresponsibility for its failure to regulate Chisso, and forits failure to recognize the rights of the victims of theMinamata mercury poisoning. Lawsuits became tiedup in courts for decades, and fewer victimcertifications were granted, preventing many victimsfrom receiving their indemnity, and any sense ofclosure that may have come with it.

Conclusion

Overall, the legacy of Minamata was one ofincomplete victories. “Minamata does not offer a simpleanswer to questions about the nature of postwardemocracy,” and the government’s responsibility toboth protect its people from public health hazards andto ensure economic growth.44 The impacts of thislegacy began with the Ashio Copper Mine, continued inMinamata, and extended into the twenty-first centurywith the Fukushima Nuclear Crisis.

It remains to be seen how the government willultimately handle the Fukushima earthquake crisis,but many parallels with Minamata emergedimmediately following the disaster. In the same waythat Minamata officials persuaded Noguchi toconstruct his plant in their village, many rural villages,prior to the Fukushima crisis, sought to “solve their

44 George, Minamata, 284


problems by attracting nuclear power plants.”45 The“local settlements” and mimaikin of Ashio andMinamata were also duplicated with the offering ofpayments, following the crisis, to residents and townsnear the Fukushima power plant. In addition, just asfarmers near Ashio, and fishermen near Minamata,were among those most harmed by the pollution,farmers in the affected area surrounding Fukushimahave seen the carelessness of technological innovatorsput the health of the town at risk.46 Finally, andperhaps most disturbingly, the governor of Tokyo,Ishihara Shintaro, repeated the Chisso president’sinfamous publicity stunt of 1959 by drinking “a glassof tap water on national television to prove that it wassafe from radioactive contamination.”47

Despite these parallels, there is still time for thegovernment’s reaction to Fukushima to turn in a morepositive direction. There is still time to learn from boththe mistakes and successes of the past. In the sameway that victims of Ashio and Minamata used moderninstitutions to fight social and environmental injustice,with an active popular response, it may be that thepain of past disasters can be avoided with respect toFukushima. In conclusion, the ultimate similarity ofthe Ashio, Minamata, and Fukushima cases goesbeyond environmental issues, and breaches theproblem of citizenship, democracy, social control and

45 Timothy S. George, “Fukushima in Light of Minamata,”The Asia Pacific Journal, 10:11, 5 (2012), online:http://japanfocus.org/-Timothy_S_-George/3715 46 Christine Marran, “Contamination: From Minamata toFukushima,” The Asia Pacific Journal, 9:1 (2011), online:http://japanfocus.org/-Christine-Marran/3526 47 George, “Fukushima in Light of Minamata,” online

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following the oil crisis of 1973-74.Settlements made following this economic and

political stagnation were more akin to the mimaikin ofthe 1950s, as the state receded into a refusal to acceptresponsibility for its failure to regulate Chisso, and forits failure to recognize the rights of the victims of theMinamata mercury poisoning. Lawsuits became tiedup in courts for decades, and fewer victimcertifications were granted, preventing many victimsfrom receiving their indemnity, and any sense ofclosure that may have come with it.

Conclusion

Overall, the legacy of Minamata was one ofincomplete victories. “Minamata does not offer a simpleanswer to questions about the nature of postwardemocracy,” and the government’s responsibility toboth protect its people from public health hazards andto ensure economic growth.44 The impacts of thislegacy began with the Ashio Copper Mine, continued inMinamata, and extended into the twenty-first centurywith the Fukushima Nuclear Crisis.

It remains to be seen how the government willultimately handle the Fukushima earthquake crisis,but many parallels with Minamata emergedimmediately following the disaster. In the same waythat Minamata officials persuaded Noguchi toconstruct his plant in their village, many rural villages,prior to the Fukushima crisis, sought to “solve their

44 George, Minamata, 284


problems by attracting nuclear power plants.”45 The“local settlements” and mimaikin of Ashio andMinamata were also duplicated with the offering ofpayments, following the crisis, to residents and townsnear the Fukushima power plant. In addition, just asfarmers near Ashio, and fishermen near Minamata,were among those most harmed by the pollution,farmers in the affected area surrounding Fukushimahave seen the carelessness of technological innovatorsput the health of the town at risk.46 Finally, andperhaps most disturbingly, the governor of Tokyo,Ishihara Shintaro, repeated the Chisso president’sinfamous publicity stunt of 1959 by drinking “a glassof tap water on national television to prove that it wassafe from radioactive contamination.”47

Despite these parallels, there is still time for thegovernment’s reaction to Fukushima to turn in a morepositive direction. There is still time to learn from boththe mistakes and successes of the past. In the sameway that victims of Ashio and Minamata used moderninstitutions to fight social and environmental injustice,with an active popular response, it may be that thepain of past disasters can be avoided with respect toFukushima. In conclusion, the ultimate similarity ofthe Ashio, Minamata, and Fukushima cases goesbeyond environmental issues, and breaches theproblem of citizenship, democracy, social control and

45 Timothy S. George, “Fukushima in Light of Minamata,”The Asia Pacific Journal, 10:11, 5 (2012), online:http://japanfocus.org/-Timothy_S_-George/3715 46 Christine Marran, “Contamination: From Minamata toFukushima,” The Asia Pacific Journal, 9:1 (2011), online:http://japanfocus.org/-Christine-Marran/3526 47 George, “Fukushima in Light of Minamata,” online

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governmental power, and the value of humanity in aworld that seemingly values technology and progressabove all. It also demonstrates the continual tensionbetween the government’s quest and constant push formodernity, and the forced adaptation of the citizenryto use the government’s own weapons against them.

Kathryn Karasek is a a double major in History andEconomics. Originally from Cary, North Carolina, shechose to branch out and study East Asian History atSCU. Her paper, "Environmental Destruction in Japan",was inspired by her participation in the Solar Decathlonproject and won the 2013 Redwood Prize for the bestessay on a historical subject.


“These Navies and Armies and Kingsand Things”: Anglo AmericanCooperation in Anti-Submarine Warfarein World War I

Sean Naumes

The United States entered World War I, one of themost destructive conflicts in human history, on April6, 1917. The nation was almost completely unpreparedfor armed conflict, and this was especially true of theUnited States Navy which could not even fully man thecraft that it had available. America’s entry into the waralso coincided with a major allied crisis caused by theresumption of unrestricted submarine warfare by theGermans which saw, at that time, German submarinessinking one in every four ships that left Britain’sharbors.1 However, within a short period of time, theU.S. Navy was working closely with Britain’s RoyalNavy to protect convoys and maintain the blockade ofGermany that eventually help to bring about thearmistice of 1918.Cooperation between the UnitedStates Navy and its Royal counterpart was extremelyeffective because it allowed the two powers to maintainthe lines of communication between the Allies and theUnited States through the preservation of shippingtonnage which fueled the Allied economies and wareffort. This begs the question why the cooperationbetween the U.S. Navy and Royal Navy anti-submarine

1 Michael Simpson, ed., Anglo-American Naval Relations,1917-1918( Aldershot, Hants, England: Published by ScolarPress for the Navy Records Society, 1991), 23.

111




governmental power, and the value of humanity in aworld that seemingly values technology and progressabove all. It also demonstrates the continual tensionbetween the government’s quest and constant push formodernity, and the forced adaptation of the citizenryto use the government’s own weapons against them.

Kathryn Karasek is a a double major in History andEconomics. Originally from Cary, North Carolina, shechose to branch out and study East Asian History atSCU. Her paper, "Environmental Destruction in Japan",was inspired by her participation in the Solar Decathlonproject and won the 2013 Redwood Prize for the bestessay on a historical subject.


“These Navies and Armies and Kingsand Things”: Anglo AmericanCooperation in Anti-Submarine Warfarein World War I

Sean Naumes

The United States entered World War I, one of themost destructive conflicts in human history, on April6, 1917. The nation was almost completely unpreparedfor armed conflict, and this was especially true of theUnited States Navy which could not even fully man thecraft that it had available. America’s entry into the waralso coincided with a major allied crisis caused by theresumption of unrestricted submarine warfare by theGermans which saw, at that time, German submarinessinking one in every four ships that left Britain’sharbors.1 However, within a short period of time, theU.S. Navy was working closely with Britain’s RoyalNavy to protect convoys and maintain the blockade ofGermany that eventually help to bring about thearmistice of 1918.Cooperation between the UnitedStates Navy and its Royal counterpart was extremelyeffective because it allowed the two powers to maintainthe lines of communication between the Allies and theUnited States through the preservation of shippingtonnage which fueled the Allied economies and wareffort. This begs the question why the cooperationbetween the U.S. Navy and Royal Navy anti-submarine

1 Michael Simpson, ed., Anglo-American Naval Relations,1917-1918( Aldershot, Hants, England: Published by ScolarPress for the Navy Records Society, 1991), 23.

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Anglo American Cooperation 105

activities was so successful during the relatively briefperiod of U.S. belligerency during the First World War.The answer, like any historical analysis, is quitecomplicated and involves the investigation of therelationships of the commanders and cabinet membersand an examination of the material crisis facing theallies at the beginning of 1917. Despite thecomplicated nature of the eventual harmoniousinteractions exhibited by the British and Americans, itseems that the high levels of cooperation seen in theU.S. and British anti-submarine forces were primarilythe product of diplomatic relations, severe alliedlosses, and a distinct lack of viable non-convoy relatedstrategic options. This analysis of Anglo-Americancooperation in anti-submarine warfare ends inDecember of 1917 with the establishment of full Anglo-American naval cooperation.

This paper investigates the underlying causes ofthe harmonious relationship that existed among thejoint Anglo-American anti-submarine forces during thelast years of the Great War. Therefore, it includes anexamination of Anglo-American naval relations, beforeWWI, during American neutrality with the bulk ofanalysis concentrated on cooperation duringhostilities.

U.S. –U.K. Relations Up to 1914

Pre-war relations between the United States andGreat Britain would not necessarily have indicatedthat the two nations would cooperate well as allies oreven become allies in the event of a continental war.The United States and Britain had relatively cordialdiplomatic and naval relations during the latter part of


the nineteenth century and early twentieth century,but residual tensions over past conflicts such as theAmerican Revolution, the War of 1812 and theAmerican Civil War lingered, especially among certainsegments of the American public. The War of 1812 andthe American Civil War were especially important interms of naval and diplomatic relations during periodsof U.S. neutrality. That is, because the war of 1812was fought, officially, over the rights of neutralshipping and the Civil War almost saw Britain declarewar on the Union over the Trent incident, negativefeelings continued. With the opening of Japan in 1854,the United States joined other European nations, suchas Britain, in imperial activities.2 By the turn of thetwentieth century the United States had majorterritorial holdings in both the Caribbean and thePacific, such as Puerto Rico and the Philippines. Navalpolicy makers, such as Theodore Roosevelt and AlfredThayer Mahan, actually began to see the British RoyalNavy as a buffer against the relatively new and risingnaval power of Germany in the Atlantic and Japan inthe Pacific.3 The years immediately before the GreatWar saw a relative calm between the Unites States andBritain and 1914 marked the centennial of peacebetween the two nations.4 Meanwhile, the diplomaticdance that began in 1913 introduced some of the main

2 Andrew Gordon, A Modern History of Japan: From theTokugawa Times to the Present (New York: Oxford UniversityPress, 2009), 50. 3 Richard W. Truk, The Ambiguous Relationship: TheodoreRoosevelt and Alfred Thayer Mahan (New York: GreenwoodPress, 1987), 2. 4 Burton J. Hendrick 1924, The Life and Letters of Walter H.Page. Vol. 1. (Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Company), 274.

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activities was so successful during the relatively briefperiod of U.S. belligerency during the First World War.The answer, like any historical analysis, is quitecomplicated and involves the investigation of therelationships of the commanders and cabinet membersand an examination of the material crisis facing theallies at the beginning of 1917. Despite thecomplicated nature of the eventual harmoniousinteractions exhibited by the British and Americans, itseems that the high levels of cooperation seen in theU.S. and British anti-submarine forces were primarilythe product of diplomatic relations, severe alliedlosses, and a distinct lack of viable non-convoy relatedstrategic options. This analysis of Anglo-Americancooperation in anti-submarine warfare ends inDecember of 1917 with the establishment of full Anglo-American naval cooperation.

This paper investigates the underlying causes ofthe harmonious relationship that existed among thejoint Anglo-American anti-submarine forces during thelast years of the Great War. Therefore, it includes anexamination of Anglo-American naval relations, beforeWWI, during American neutrality with the bulk ofanalysis concentrated on cooperation duringhostilities.

U.S. –U.K. Relations Up to 1914

Pre-war relations between the United States andGreat Britain would not necessarily have indicatedthat the two nations would cooperate well as allies oreven become allies in the event of a continental war.The United States and Britain had relatively cordialdiplomatic and naval relations during the latter part of


the nineteenth century and early twentieth century,but residual tensions over past conflicts such as theAmerican Revolution, the War of 1812 and theAmerican Civil War lingered, especially among certainsegments of the American public. The War of 1812 andthe American Civil War were especially important interms of naval and diplomatic relations during periodsof U.S. neutrality. That is, because the war of 1812was fought, officially, over the rights of neutralshipping and the Civil War almost saw Britain declarewar on the Union over the Trent incident, negativefeelings continued. With the opening of Japan in 1854,the United States joined other European nations, suchas Britain, in imperial activities.2 By the turn of thetwentieth century the United States had majorterritorial holdings in both the Caribbean and thePacific, such as Puerto Rico and the Philippines. Navalpolicy makers, such as Theodore Roosevelt and AlfredThayer Mahan, actually began to see the British RoyalNavy as a buffer against the relatively new and risingnaval power of Germany in the Atlantic and Japan inthe Pacific.3 The years immediately before the GreatWar saw a relative calm between the Unites States andBritain and 1914 marked the centennial of peacebetween the two nations.4 Meanwhile, the diplomaticdance that began in 1913 introduced some of the main

2 Andrew Gordon, A Modern History of Japan: From theTokugawa Times to the Present (New York: Oxford UniversityPress, 2009), 50. 3 Richard W. Truk, The Ambiguous Relationship: TheodoreRoosevelt and Alfred Thayer Mahan (New York: GreenwoodPress, 1987), 2. 4 Burton J. Hendrick 1924, The Life and Letters of Walter H.Page. Vol. 1. (Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Company), 274.

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players that would shape Anglo-American relationsand the two countries’ harmonious cooperation of theanti-submarine campaign.

Walter Hines Page became the ambassador to theCourt of St. James in March, 1913 and wasimmediately thrown into the whirlwind of Europeandiplomacy and politics. Page would prove to be a keyplayer in U.S. - Great Britain relations both before theU.S. entered the war and during the war. Page’sexperiences in Britain are a good example of how thetwo nations perceived each other before the war began.In his collected works, The Life and Letters of Walter H.Page, Burton J. Hendrick includes Page’scorrespondence from 1913 and one letter to thePresident noted that the British, “Do not think of ourpeople as foreigners.”5 However he also notes that theBritish, “think of our Government as foreign, and as afrontier sort of thing without good manners or goodfaith.”6 The British aristocracy did not seem to have avery high opinion of the Government of the U.S., andthe war seemed to exacerbate this negative opinion.On the other side of the Atlantic, Americans’perception of Britain differed substantially dependingon what group was queried. Page himself was ananglophile and believed that “Only the British landsand the United States have secure liberty. They alsohave the most treasure, the best fighters, the mostland, the most ships- the future in fact.”7 Given hisAnglo-centric leanings, Page wanted to create the bestpossible relationship between the United States and

5 Ibid., 145. 6 Ibid. 7 Ibid., 283.


Britain. Other segments of the population, mostnotably a large number of Irish-Americans, weresuspicious of or outright hostile toward the British andPage went as far as to blame the Irish vote for the U.S.failure to establish a permanent embassy location inLondon.8

The most pressing issues that affected Anglo-American relations in the years leading up to the warwere the two nations’ interests in Central Americanand Mexico. The United States intensified itsenforcement of the Monroe doctrine, which was theU.S. policy of preventing European intervention in theAmericas, around the turn of the century, and manyEuropean nations were actively participating in Southand Central American politics and trade.9 Pagementions in a November 26, 1913 letter that he told aBritish aristocrat that “the only thing that had keptSouth America from being parceled out as Africa hasbeen is the Monroe Doctrine and the United Statesbehind it.”10 This concept of the British and Europeansin general did not bode well for cooperation on the partof the United States with any European nation, GreatBritain included.

For their part, the British had been attempting toimprove their foreign relations around the turn of thecentury. This was especially important for Anglo-American relations since, at that time, the UnitedStates was a growing power and the only Englishspeaking nation outside of the British dominion.

8 Burton J. Hendrick 1925, The Life and Letters of Walter H.Page. Vol. 3. (Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Company), 72-73. 9 Truck, 50. 10 Hendrick, vol. 1, 217.

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players that would shape Anglo-American relationsand the two countries’ harmonious cooperation of theanti-submarine campaign.

Walter Hines Page became the ambassador to theCourt of St. James in March, 1913 and wasimmediately thrown into the whirlwind of Europeandiplomacy and politics. Page would prove to be a keyplayer in U.S. - Great Britain relations both before theU.S. entered the war and during the war. Page’sexperiences in Britain are a good example of how thetwo nations perceived each other before the war began.In his collected works, The Life and Letters of Walter H.Page, Burton J. Hendrick includes Page’scorrespondence from 1913 and one letter to thePresident noted that the British, “Do not think of ourpeople as foreigners.”5 However he also notes that theBritish, “think of our Government as foreign, and as afrontier sort of thing without good manners or goodfaith.”6 The British aristocracy did not seem to have avery high opinion of the Government of the U.S., andthe war seemed to exacerbate this negative opinion.On the other side of the Atlantic, Americans’perception of Britain differed substantially dependingon what group was queried. Page himself was ananglophile and believed that “Only the British landsand the United States have secure liberty. They alsohave the most treasure, the best fighters, the mostland, the most ships- the future in fact.”7 Given hisAnglo-centric leanings, Page wanted to create the bestpossible relationship between the United States and

5 Ibid., 145. 6 Ibid. 7 Ibid., 283.


Britain. Other segments of the population, mostnotably a large number of Irish-Americans, weresuspicious of or outright hostile toward the British andPage went as far as to blame the Irish vote for the U.S.failure to establish a permanent embassy location inLondon.8

The most pressing issues that affected Anglo-American relations in the years leading up to the warwere the two nations’ interests in Central Americanand Mexico. The United States intensified itsenforcement of the Monroe doctrine, which was theU.S. policy of preventing European intervention in theAmericas, around the turn of the century, and manyEuropean nations were actively participating in Southand Central American politics and trade.9 Pagementions in a November 26, 1913 letter that he told aBritish aristocrat that “the only thing that had keptSouth America from being parceled out as Africa hasbeen is the Monroe Doctrine and the United Statesbehind it.”10 This concept of the British and Europeansin general did not bode well for cooperation on the partof the United States with any European nation, GreatBritain included.

For their part, the British had been attempting toimprove their foreign relations around the turn of thecentury. This was especially important for Anglo-American relations since, at that time, the UnitedStates was a growing power and the only Englishspeaking nation outside of the British dominion.

8 Burton J. Hendrick 1925, The Life and Letters of Walter H.Page. Vol. 3. (Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Company), 72-73. 9 Truck, 50. 10 Hendrick, vol. 1, 217.

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Appeasing the United States was an important Britishdiplomatic goal. This involved favors such as givingconcessions to the U.S. when it came to Canadianborder disputes.11 Page recognized the Britishkeenness to maintain good relations during theMexican revolution dispute of 1913: he stated “theywill not risk losing our good-will.”12 Page wasbeginning to believe that power would eventually shifttoward the United States and that Britain would soonrank second to the U.S. This enhanced Page’scampaign to gain Britain’s cooperation and mutualsupport.

Aside from official diplomatic relations, there waslittle in the way of political or military cooperationbetween the United States and Great Britain leadingup to the war, or even during neutrality (1914-1917).One example of unofficial naval relations can be seenin the acquaintance of certain naval officers in bothservices due to common postings and in port visits. Inhis book, Anglo-America Naval Relations 1917-1918,Michael Simpson mentions the acquaintance ofAmerican Admiral William S. Sims and BritishAdmiral, and later Frist Sea Lord, Sir John Jellicoe asa good example of unofficial Anglo-American relations.Both men knew each other due to friendly interactionswhile they were both stationed in the Far East.13 Theseties would prove important in 1917 when Sims becamethe main U.S. flag officer in Britain. Official tiesbetween the British and American navies were slim to

11 A. E. Campbell, Great Britain and the United States, 1895-1903 (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1974), 123. 12 Hendrick, vol. 1, 185.

13 Simpson, 8.


none in 1913 but there was a simmer of possible navalcooperation that existed right before the volatileEuropean continent exploded.

Anglo-American naval cooperation was never closerin the period before the war than in late 1913 andearly 1914 when a British-American-German pact wasbeing considered in order to vent pressure on thecontinent and redirect the arms race. Page noted in anAugust 28, 1913 letter to Edward M. House, WoodrowWilson’s trusted advisor, that, “If we could find somefriendly use for these navies and armies and king andthings- in the service of humanity – they’d follow us.”14

Winston Churchill, Sea Lord at the time, made aformal suggestion that the Germans and Britishengage in a “Naval Holiday” that would freeze capitalship building and foster cooperation between the twonations.15 After some meetings, this was rejected bythe Germans whose ship building program wasdictated by law. Nevertheless, Page and Wilsonbelieved in the “Naval Holiday” plan and “[b]y January4, 1914, the House-Wilson plan had thus grown intoan Anglo-American-German ‘pact’, to deal not onlywith “disarmament, but other matters of equalimportance to themselves and the world at large.”16 Allof this came to naught, however, with the beginning ofthe Great War, eight months later, on August 4, 1914.

The pre-war diplomatic stint of Walter H. Pageproved to be very eventful in that it saw thedevelopment of a greater understanding between theUnited States and Britain and it almost resulted in a

14 Hendrick, vol.1, 278. 15 Ibid. 16 Ibid., 280-281.

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Appeasing the United States was an important Britishdiplomatic goal. This involved favors such as givingconcessions to the U.S. when it came to Canadianborder disputes.11 Page recognized the Britishkeenness to maintain good relations during theMexican revolution dispute of 1913: he stated “theywill not risk losing our good-will.”12 Page wasbeginning to believe that power would eventually shifttoward the United States and that Britain would soonrank second to the U.S. This enhanced Page’scampaign to gain Britain’s cooperation and mutualsupport.

Aside from official diplomatic relations, there waslittle in the way of political or military cooperationbetween the United States and Great Britain leadingup to the war, or even during neutrality (1914-1917).One example of unofficial naval relations can be seenin the acquaintance of certain naval officers in bothservices due to common postings and in port visits. Inhis book, Anglo-America Naval Relations 1917-1918,Michael Simpson mentions the acquaintance ofAmerican Admiral William S. Sims and BritishAdmiral, and later Frist Sea Lord, Sir John Jellicoe asa good example of unofficial Anglo-American relations.Both men knew each other due to friendly interactionswhile they were both stationed in the Far East.13 Theseties would prove important in 1917 when Sims becamethe main U.S. flag officer in Britain. Official tiesbetween the British and American navies were slim to

11 A. E. Campbell, Great Britain and the United States, 1895-1903 (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1974), 123. 12 Hendrick, vol. 1, 185.

13 Simpson, 8.


none in 1913 but there was a simmer of possible navalcooperation that existed right before the volatileEuropean continent exploded.

Anglo-American naval cooperation was never closerin the period before the war than in late 1913 andearly 1914 when a British-American-German pact wasbeing considered in order to vent pressure on thecontinent and redirect the arms race. Page noted in anAugust 28, 1913 letter to Edward M. House, WoodrowWilson’s trusted advisor, that, “If we could find somefriendly use for these navies and armies and king andthings- in the service of humanity – they’d follow us.”14

Winston Churchill, Sea Lord at the time, made aformal suggestion that the Germans and Britishengage in a “Naval Holiday” that would freeze capitalship building and foster cooperation between the twonations.15 After some meetings, this was rejected bythe Germans whose ship building program wasdictated by law. Nevertheless, Page and Wilsonbelieved in the “Naval Holiday” plan and “[b]y January4, 1914, the House-Wilson plan had thus grown intoan Anglo-American-German ‘pact’, to deal not onlywith “disarmament, but other matters of equalimportance to themselves and the world at large.”16 Allof this came to naught, however, with the beginning ofthe Great War, eight months later, on August 4, 1914.

The pre-war diplomatic stint of Walter H. Pageproved to be very eventful in that it saw thedevelopment of a greater understanding between theUnited States and Britain and it almost resulted in a

14 Hendrick, vol.1, 278. 15 Ibid. 16 Ibid., 280-281.

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triple alliance of the United States, Britain andGermany by the beginning of 1914. However, 1913also showed that the United States still viewed Britainwith suspicion and that many influential persons inBritain did not completely understand the UnitedStates. Finally, this period saw the development ofrelationships between Page and important Britishleaders such as Sir Edward Grey, the British ForeignSecretary, and Admiral Sir John Jellicoe which wouldhelp Page steer Anglo-American relations through theminefield of neutrality and later cooperation.

The Problem with Neutrality, 1914-1917

Diplomatic relations between Great Britain and theUnited States entered one of their rockiest periodssince the American Civil War with the outbreak of theFirst World War and the subsequent British long-rangeblockade of Germany, a strategy that involved Britishinterference with neutral shipping. Page summed upthe position of the United States well in an Augustsecond letter to his family which stated that “TheUnited States is the only great power wholly out of it.The United States most likely, therefore, will be able toplay a helpful and historic part at its end.”17 Thisremark obviously shows that the United States underWilson was more interested in being a neutral peacebroker than belligerent. The letter may also reveal thatPage realized early on that the U.S. could benefit fromearly neutrality in the Great War if it then joinedtoward the end of the conflict. Hendrick makes animportant note after this section and that was the fact

17 Ibid., 302.


that, “By this time Page and the Foreign Secretary hadestablished not only cordial official relations but awarm friendship.”18 This is an important developmentbecause Page’s friendship with Grey gave him a bettergrasp of the British situation and British perceptions.

The Allied blockade of the Central Powers, whichbegan in August of 1914 and lasted until the end ofthe war, caused a great deal of tension between theUnited States and Great Britain.19 The blockade wasseen as an infringement on the rights of neutralshipping by the Americans, whereas the Britishconsidered the blockade their main weapon againstGermany and the means by which they would eitherwin or lose the war. Advancements in navaltechnology, such as the mine, submarine and torpedo,rendered the old doctrines of close-in blockadesuntenable so the Royal Navy embarked on a long-rangeblockade which involved stopping ships before theycame anywhere near neutral or belligerent ports alongthe North Sea.20 In his book, The End of Neutrality,John W. Coogan explains that British administrationfaced a great dilemma because they “could see no wayto intercept such shipments without blatant violationsof international law.”21 In his article in the North

18 Ibid., 311. 19 The major Allies from 1914 to 1917 consisted of Britain,France, Russia, Japan and Italy. Encyclopædia BritannicaOnline, s. v. "World War I," accessed March 20, 2013, http://0-www.britannica.com.sculib.scu.edu/EBchecked/topic/648646/World-War-I. 20 John C. Coogan, The End of Neutrality: The United States,Britain, and Maritime Right, 1899-1915 (Ithaca: CornellUniversity Press, 1981), 156. 21 Ibid.

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triple alliance of the United States, Britain andGermany by the beginning of 1914. However, 1913also showed that the United States still viewed Britainwith suspicion and that many influential persons inBritain did not completely understand the UnitedStates. Finally, this period saw the development ofrelationships between Page and important Britishleaders such as Sir Edward Grey, the British ForeignSecretary, and Admiral Sir John Jellicoe which wouldhelp Page steer Anglo-American relations through theminefield of neutrality and later cooperation.

The Problem with Neutrality, 1914-1917

Diplomatic relations between Great Britain and theUnited States entered one of their rockiest periodssince the American Civil War with the outbreak of theFirst World War and the subsequent British long-rangeblockade of Germany, a strategy that involved Britishinterference with neutral shipping. Page summed upthe position of the United States well in an Augustsecond letter to his family which stated that “TheUnited States is the only great power wholly out of it.The United States most likely, therefore, will be able toplay a helpful and historic part at its end.”17 Thisremark obviously shows that the United States underWilson was more interested in being a neutral peacebroker than belligerent. The letter may also reveal thatPage realized early on that the U.S. could benefit fromearly neutrality in the Great War if it then joinedtoward the end of the conflict. Hendrick makes animportant note after this section and that was the fact

17 Ibid., 302.


that, “By this time Page and the Foreign Secretary hadestablished not only cordial official relations but awarm friendship.”18 This is an important developmentbecause Page’s friendship with Grey gave him a bettergrasp of the British situation and British perceptions.

The Allied blockade of the Central Powers, whichbegan in August of 1914 and lasted until the end ofthe war, caused a great deal of tension between theUnited States and Great Britain.19 The blockade wasseen as an infringement on the rights of neutralshipping by the Americans, whereas the Britishconsidered the blockade their main weapon againstGermany and the means by which they would eitherwin or lose the war. Advancements in navaltechnology, such as the mine, submarine and torpedo,rendered the old doctrines of close-in blockadesuntenable so the Royal Navy embarked on a long-rangeblockade which involved stopping ships before theycame anywhere near neutral or belligerent ports alongthe North Sea.20 In his book, The End of Neutrality,John W. Coogan explains that British administrationfaced a great dilemma because they “could see no wayto intercept such shipments without blatant violationsof international law.”21 In his article in the North

18 Ibid., 311. 19 The major Allies from 1914 to 1917 consisted of Britain,France, Russia, Japan and Italy. Encyclopædia BritannicaOnline, s. v. "World War I," accessed March 20, 2013, http://0-www.britannica.com.sculib.scu.edu/EBchecked/topic/648646/World-War-I. 20 John C. Coogan, The End of Neutrality: The United States,Britain, and Maritime Right, 1899-1915 (Ithaca: CornellUniversity Press, 1981), 156. 21 Ibid.

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American Review, “Sea Rights and Sea Power: TheBritish Embargo”, Edward S. Corwin, a contemporarylawyer, explained that an actual blockade requiredcontrol of the waters around an enemy port and theequal treatment of all neutral nations. Neutrality wasviolated by the British because they neither hadcontrol of the waters immediately around Germanports nor did they treat all neutrals equally, given thefact that they were unable to do anything about theBaltic trade.22 The British government tried to avoidthis issue by never actually declaring an effectiveblockade and by using the continuous voyage doctrine.

The main dispute revolved around theclassification of different cargoes. The HagueConference in 1907 and the Declaration of London in1909, which was a codification of the Conference’sguidelines, defined the materials that could beconsidered contraband and those items which couldnot be seized.23 The declaration separated cargoes intoabsolute contraband, which was condemned by itsmilitary utility, conditional contraband, which couldonly be condemned based on its final destination, andfree list items, which could not be prevented fromentering any territory.24 The Declaration of London waseventually signed by Austria-Hungary, France,Germany, Italy, Japan, Russia, Spain, the UnitedStates and the Netherlands.25Due to pressure from theUnited States, Great Britain accepted some tenets of

22 Edward S. Corwin, “Sea Rights and Sea Power: The BritishEmbargo,” The North American Review 204 (Oct. 1916): 519. 23 Hendrick, vol. 1, 375. 24 Marion C. Siney, The Allied Blockade of Germany, 1914-1916 ( Westport: Greenwood Press, 1973), 9. 25 Coogan, 8.


the Declaration of London to maintain good relationswith neutral trading partners who feared tradedisruption. But, this acceptance came withmodifications that would eventually lead to a completeabandonment of the Declaration.26 The Britishmanaged to avoid a potentially catastrophic run-inwith the U.S. over trade by paying for all blockadedcargoes.27 Hendrick states that “Great Britain nowproposed to purchase cargoes of conditionalcontraband discovered on seized ships and return theships themselves to their owners and this soon becameestablished practice.”28 Eventually everything not inthe absolute contraband category was declaredconditional contraband by Great Britain. In her book,The Allied Blockade of Germany, 1914-1916, MarionSiney contends that “No particular attempt was nowmade to determine whether a consignment ofconditional contraband was destined to the armedforces or governmental department of the enemy:designation to hostile territory was enough to secureits condemnation.”29 The Wilson administration tookissue with this position at first, but the U.S. eventuallylet the issue fade away, on the advice of Page, andbecause of issues concerning submarine warfare suchas the sinking of the Lusitania on May 7, 1915 and thetorpedoing of the S.S. Sussex on March 24, 1916.30

These events created a great deal of tension between

26 Hendrick, vol. 1, 384. 27 Siney, 129. 28 Burton J. Hendrick 1925, The Life and Letters of Walter H.Page. Vol. 2. (Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Company), 63. 29 Siney, 132. 30 P.K. Kemp, ed., History of the Royal Navy (New York: G.P.Putnam’s Sons, 1969), 204.

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American Review, “Sea Rights and Sea Power: TheBritish Embargo”, Edward S. Corwin, a contemporarylawyer, explained that an actual blockade requiredcontrol of the waters around an enemy port and theequal treatment of all neutral nations. Neutrality wasviolated by the British because they neither hadcontrol of the waters immediately around Germanports nor did they treat all neutrals equally, given thefact that they were unable to do anything about theBaltic trade.22 The British government tried to avoidthis issue by never actually declaring an effectiveblockade and by using the continuous voyage doctrine.

The main dispute revolved around theclassification of different cargoes. The HagueConference in 1907 and the Declaration of London in1909, which was a codification of the Conference’sguidelines, defined the materials that could beconsidered contraband and those items which couldnot be seized.23 The declaration separated cargoes intoabsolute contraband, which was condemned by itsmilitary utility, conditional contraband, which couldonly be condemned based on its final destination, andfree list items, which could not be prevented fromentering any territory.24 The Declaration of London waseventually signed by Austria-Hungary, France,Germany, Italy, Japan, Russia, Spain, the UnitedStates and the Netherlands.25Due to pressure from theUnited States, Great Britain accepted some tenets of

22 Edward S. Corwin, “Sea Rights and Sea Power: The BritishEmbargo,” The North American Review 204 (Oct. 1916): 519. 23 Hendrick, vol. 1, 375. 24 Marion C. Siney, The Allied Blockade of Germany, 1914-1916 ( Westport: Greenwood Press, 1973), 9. 25 Coogan, 8.


the Declaration of London to maintain good relationswith neutral trading partners who feared tradedisruption. But, this acceptance came withmodifications that would eventually lead to a completeabandonment of the Declaration.26 The Britishmanaged to avoid a potentially catastrophic run-inwith the U.S. over trade by paying for all blockadedcargoes.27 Hendrick states that “Great Britain nowproposed to purchase cargoes of conditionalcontraband discovered on seized ships and return theships themselves to their owners and this soon becameestablished practice.”28 Eventually everything not inthe absolute contraband category was declaredconditional contraband by Great Britain. In her book,The Allied Blockade of Germany, 1914-1916, MarionSiney contends that “No particular attempt was nowmade to determine whether a consignment ofconditional contraband was destined to the armedforces or governmental department of the enemy:designation to hostile territory was enough to secureits condemnation.”29 The Wilson administration tookissue with this position at first, but the U.S. eventuallylet the issue fade away, on the advice of Page, andbecause of issues concerning submarine warfare suchas the sinking of the Lusitania on May 7, 1915 and thetorpedoing of the S.S. Sussex on March 24, 1916.30

These events created a great deal of tension between

26 Hendrick, vol. 1, 384. 27 Siney, 129. 28 Burton J. Hendrick 1925, The Life and Letters of Walter H.Page. Vol. 2. (Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Company), 63. 29 Siney, 132. 30 P.K. Kemp, ed., History of the Royal Navy (New York: G.P.Putnam’s Sons, 1969), 204.

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the United States and Germany and led to the Germanclaim that it would abandon unlimited submarinewarfare until February 1, 1917, under the “SussexPledge”.31

One result of the early long range blockade ofGermany was the “Dacia incident” which was probablythe most dangerous incident for Anglo-American navalrelations during American neutrality in World War I.This crisis, brought on by an attempted breach of theAllied blockade by a ship under a United Statesregistry, was the type of event that could have broughtthe United States and Great Britain closest to war. InJanuary, 1915, the British long-range blockade wasthreatened by a group of German-American investorswho decided to take advantage of U.S. regulationsregarding registry and asylum-seeking ships in orderto purchase a former German merchant ship, theDacia, and send the vessel to Germany loaded withcotton.32 This was clearly an attempt by U.S. nationalsto push the Wilson administration to refuse torecognize Britain’s long-range blockading activities.Hendrick notes that “Above all the Dacia involved thegreat question of the use of British sea power.”33 And,Simpson notes that for the United States problemswith the blockade revolved around neutral rights andfreedom of the seas.34 These two positions almostcollided in the first months of the war and could havemade cooperation in any area extremely difficult.

The solution to this momentous issue came in the

31 Ibid. 32 Hendrick, vol. 3, 222. 33 Ibid., 223. 34 Simpson, 26.


form of the American Ambassador himself. Pageworked tirelessly to maintain the good relations thathad existed between the United States and Britainright before the war. Due to his relationship with Grey,Page was able to suggest that the French Navy pick upthe ship when it entered the English Channel since theUnited States still entertained strong sympathies forthe French.35 This was a stroke of genius since itpartially diffused the tension that had built upbetween the United States and Britain and the Allieswere able to prevent the blockade from being breached.However, the whole incident brought up manyconsiderations about sea power and international law.This was especially true when it came to the letter ofthe law and enforcement. Britain agreed to follow thetenets of the Declaration of London with modificationbut it very quickly began to violate this agreement. Noneutral government actively challenged this besidesthe odd call for its cancelation.

This incident also reveals that the possibility of anAnglo-American conflict or war in the early years ofWWI was very real and made all the more probable bythe fact that the U.S. was both the most powerfulneutral nation and heavily committed to freedom of theseas.36 The lack of major conflict may have been due tothe fact that Britain paid for most cargoes that weredetained, and the submarine campaign represented anew and legally challenging development in navalrelations and law. The dispute over the blockade andfreedom of the seas would have an important impacton the early strategic cooperation between the British

35 Hendrick, vol. 3, 236. 36 Simpson, xii.

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the United States and Germany and led to the Germanclaim that it would abandon unlimited submarinewarfare until February 1, 1917, under the “SussexPledge”.31

One result of the early long range blockade ofGermany was the “Dacia incident” which was probablythe most dangerous incident for Anglo-American navalrelations during American neutrality in World War I.This crisis, brought on by an attempted breach of theAllied blockade by a ship under a United Statesregistry, was the type of event that could have broughtthe United States and Great Britain closest to war. InJanuary, 1915, the British long-range blockade wasthreatened by a group of German-American investorswho decided to take advantage of U.S. regulationsregarding registry and asylum-seeking ships in orderto purchase a former German merchant ship, theDacia, and send the vessel to Germany loaded withcotton.32 This was clearly an attempt by U.S. nationalsto push the Wilson administration to refuse torecognize Britain’s long-range blockading activities.Hendrick notes that “Above all the Dacia involved thegreat question of the use of British sea power.”33 And,Simpson notes that for the United States problemswith the blockade revolved around neutral rights andfreedom of the seas.34 These two positions almostcollided in the first months of the war and could havemade cooperation in any area extremely difficult.

The solution to this momentous issue came in the

31 Ibid. 32 Hendrick, vol. 3, 222. 33 Ibid., 223. 34 Simpson, 26.


form of the American Ambassador himself. Pageworked tirelessly to maintain the good relations thathad existed between the United States and Britainright before the war. Due to his relationship with Grey,Page was able to suggest that the French Navy pick upthe ship when it entered the English Channel since theUnited States still entertained strong sympathies forthe French.35 This was a stroke of genius since itpartially diffused the tension that had built upbetween the United States and Britain and the Allieswere able to prevent the blockade from being breached.However, the whole incident brought up manyconsiderations about sea power and international law.This was especially true when it came to the letter ofthe law and enforcement. Britain agreed to follow thetenets of the Declaration of London with modificationbut it very quickly began to violate this agreement. Noneutral government actively challenged this besidesthe odd call for its cancelation.

This incident also reveals that the possibility of anAnglo-American conflict or war in the early years ofWWI was very real and made all the more probable bythe fact that the U.S. was both the most powerfulneutral nation and heavily committed to freedom of theseas.36 The lack of major conflict may have been due tothe fact that Britain paid for most cargoes that weredetained, and the submarine campaign represented anew and legally challenging development in navalrelations and law. The dispute over the blockade andfreedom of the seas would have an important impacton the early strategic cooperation between the British

35 Hendrick, vol. 3, 236. 36 Simpson, xii.

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and the United States once the latter joined the war.In 1916 Wilson led a campaign to bring about

peace in an exhausted Europe. After the Sussex Pledgeof May 4, 1916, he tried to secure some sort of peaceon the continent. Hendrick notes that “Mr. Wilson wasbent on keeping the United States out of the war; heknew that there was only one certain way of preservingpeace in this country, and that was to bring the waritself to an end.”37 However, he also knew that “thepledge was a temporary measure and that it would beviolated as soon as it became clear that the talkswould achieve results.”38 This perception proved true,and the German Government, convinced that it couldbring the war to a swift conclusion, announced that itwould resume unrestricted submarine warfare onFebruary 1, 1917.39 This ended the peace drive thatWilson had pursued during Germany’s adherence tothe Sussex Pledge. Despite the threat of Germanattack on merchant vessels after the first of February,the Wilson Administration moved slowly towardbelligerency. Sir Cecil Spring Rice, the BritishAmbassador in Washington, suspected that this was atactic to get the country, which was still grappling withisolationism, on board with the idea of war when hewrote in a January 1917 cable that “ ‘It is the evidentdesire of the President to avoid any appearance of awar conducted in cooperation with the Allies.’”40 UnitedStates diplomatic relations with Germany were broken

37 Hendrick, vol. 2, 148. 38 Ibid., 149. 39 David F. Trask, Captains and Cabinets: Anglo-AmericanNaval Relations 1917-1918 (Missouri: University of MissouriPress, 1979), 30. 40 Ibid., 40.


on February 3, 1917, “but he [Wilson] spent a numberof weeks exploring the possibility of armed neutrality.It was a step beyond strict neutrality but short of fullbelligerency.”41 As a last step before a declaration ofwar, Wilson signed an executive order on March 9,1917 to arm all merchantmen to see if armedneutrality would be possible.

The Navy Department slowly began preparing for apossible conflict with the Central Powers. The Britishdesperately sought to establish cooperation with theU.S. Navy. On March 23, 1917, Ambassador Pagewrote to the Secretary of State Robert Lansing toconvince the U.S. government of Britain’s willingnessto cooperate in both wartime strategy and the craftingof peace. Page mentioned the British willingness tocooperate when he stated that “The BritishGovernment will heartily fall in with any plan wepropose as soon as the cooperation can be formallyestablished.”42 Page also stated the need for anAmerican naval representative in London when hewrote that “Knowing their spirit and their methods, Icannot too strongly recommend that our Governmentsend here immediately an Admiral of our Navy who willbring our Navy’s plans and inquiries.”43 TheAmbassador also enticed the Secretary of State withone item the United States wanted from Britain, whichwas information, when he stated that “he [therepresentative] would have all doors opened to himand a sort of special staff appointed to give him theresults and methods of the whole British Naval work

41 Ibid., 44. 42 Simpson, 15. 43 Ibid., 16.

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and the United States once the latter joined the war.In 1916 Wilson led a campaign to bring about

peace in an exhausted Europe. After the Sussex Pledgeof May 4, 1916, he tried to secure some sort of peaceon the continent. Hendrick notes that “Mr. Wilson wasbent on keeping the United States out of the war; heknew that there was only one certain way of preservingpeace in this country, and that was to bring the waritself to an end.”37 However, he also knew that “thepledge was a temporary measure and that it would beviolated as soon as it became clear that the talkswould achieve results.”38 This perception proved true,and the German Government, convinced that it couldbring the war to a swift conclusion, announced that itwould resume unrestricted submarine warfare onFebruary 1, 1917.39 This ended the peace drive thatWilson had pursued during Germany’s adherence tothe Sussex Pledge. Despite the threat of Germanattack on merchant vessels after the first of February,the Wilson Administration moved slowly towardbelligerency. Sir Cecil Spring Rice, the BritishAmbassador in Washington, suspected that this was atactic to get the country, which was still grappling withisolationism, on board with the idea of war when hewrote in a January 1917 cable that “ ‘It is the evidentdesire of the President to avoid any appearance of awar conducted in cooperation with the Allies.’”40 UnitedStates diplomatic relations with Germany were broken

37 Hendrick, vol. 2, 148. 38 Ibid., 149. 39 David F. Trask, Captains and Cabinets: Anglo-AmericanNaval Relations 1917-1918 (Missouri: University of MissouriPress, 1979), 30. 40 Ibid., 40.


on February 3, 1917, “but he [Wilson] spent a numberof weeks exploring the possibility of armed neutrality.It was a step beyond strict neutrality but short of fullbelligerency.”41 As a last step before a declaration ofwar, Wilson signed an executive order on March 9,1917 to arm all merchantmen to see if armedneutrality would be possible.

The Navy Department slowly began preparing for apossible conflict with the Central Powers. The Britishdesperately sought to establish cooperation with theU.S. Navy. On March 23, 1917, Ambassador Pagewrote to the Secretary of State Robert Lansing toconvince the U.S. government of Britain’s willingnessto cooperate in both wartime strategy and the craftingof peace. Page mentioned the British willingness tocooperate when he stated that “The BritishGovernment will heartily fall in with any plan wepropose as soon as the cooperation can be formallyestablished.”42 Page also stated the need for anAmerican naval representative in London when hewrote that “Knowing their spirit and their methods, Icannot too strongly recommend that our Governmentsend here immediately an Admiral of our Navy who willbring our Navy’s plans and inquiries.”43 TheAmbassador also enticed the Secretary of State withone item the United States wanted from Britain, whichwas information, when he stated that “he [therepresentative] would have all doors opened to himand a sort of special staff appointed to give him theresults and methods of the whole British Naval work

41 Ibid., 44. 42 Simpson, 15. 43 Ibid., 16.

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since the War began.”44 This communication toWashington showed how willing the British were togain the confidence and cooperation of the UnitedStates. By this time the British were desperate fornaval reinforcement since their ships were spread thinand their trading lifeline was threatened.

A day after the Page letter, Wilson seemed to havemade up his mind to enter belligerency againstGermany and her Allies. On March 18, 1917 three U.S.ships were sunk without warning, and it seems thatthis major violation of contemporary naval codes andlaws was one of the main factors that pushed theUnited States toward war.45 The President wasapparently looking to the future when, on March 24,he wrote to the Secretary of the Navy, JosephusDaniels, and stated, “The main thing is no doubt to getinto immediate communication with the Admiralty onthe other side through confidential channels until thecongress has acted and work out a scheme forcooperation.”46 The Admiralty seemed to have sensedthe change in attitude in Washington, and on March29, 1917 informed the British Commander-in-ChiefNorth America and West Indies, Admiral Sir MontagueBrowning, that the U.S. would be provided withfacilities to operate against submarines on the Irishcoast.47 On the same day the naval attaché that Pageand the Admiralty had suggested be sent to GreatBritain departed for London. He was Admiral WilliamSowden Sims, who would play a major role in

44 Ibid.45 Ibid., 3.

46Ibid., 17. 47 Ibid., 18.


organizing and executing the anti-submarine war inEurope. In a March 29 communication one of theBritish officials in the United States reported that,“Sims who is detailed for London in strictest secrecyand sails incognito 31 March is I think a very goodman.”48 This was an extremely important momentbecause one of the most important players in Anglo-American cooperation in anti-submarine warfare hadjust been dispatched and his reputation preceded him.

The United States declaration of war on Germanycame on April 6, 1917 and the nation was immediatelyhurled into the heart of a world conflict that it neitherunderstood nor was prepared for. Secretary of StateRobert Lansing’s argument for belligerency may havebeen the most persuasive for the President since hesuggested that “continued neutrality would mean aloss of ‘future influence in world affairs.’”49 Throughoutthe conflict in Europe the U.S. administration andeven members of the U.S. naval command, such asAdmiral Benson, had dreamed of the United Statesbeing the arbitrator that would bring an end to themadness. By March of 1917 they had come to realizethat the only way to gain a spot at the negotiation ofthe peace was to bring about the end of the war.50

When it declared war, the administration devoted itselfcompletely to the prosecution of the conflict.

48 Simpson, 19. 49 Trask, 50. 50 Simpson, 9.

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since the War began.”44 This communication toWashington showed how willing the British were togain the confidence and cooperation of the UnitedStates. By this time the British were desperate fornaval reinforcement since their ships were spread thinand their trading lifeline was threatened.

A day after the Page letter, Wilson seemed to havemade up his mind to enter belligerency againstGermany and her Allies. On March 18, 1917 three U.S.ships were sunk without warning, and it seems thatthis major violation of contemporary naval codes andlaws was one of the main factors that pushed theUnited States toward war.45 The President wasapparently looking to the future when, on March 24,he wrote to the Secretary of the Navy, JosephusDaniels, and stated, “The main thing is no doubt to getinto immediate communication with the Admiralty onthe other side through confidential channels until thecongress has acted and work out a scheme forcooperation.”46 The Admiralty seemed to have sensedthe change in attitude in Washington, and on March29, 1917 informed the British Commander-in-ChiefNorth America and West Indies, Admiral Sir MontagueBrowning, that the U.S. would be provided withfacilities to operate against submarines on the Irishcoast.47 On the same day the naval attaché that Pageand the Admiralty had suggested be sent to GreatBritain departed for London. He was Admiral WilliamSowden Sims, who would play a major role in

44 Ibid.45 Ibid., 3.

46Ibid., 17. 47 Ibid., 18.


organizing and executing the anti-submarine war inEurope. In a March 29 communication one of theBritish officials in the United States reported that,“Sims who is detailed for London in strictest secrecyand sails incognito 31 March is I think a very goodman.”48 This was an extremely important momentbecause one of the most important players in Anglo-American cooperation in anti-submarine warfare hadjust been dispatched and his reputation preceded him.

The United States declaration of war on Germanycame on April 6, 1917 and the nation was immediatelyhurled into the heart of a world conflict that it neitherunderstood nor was prepared for. Secretary of StateRobert Lansing’s argument for belligerency may havebeen the most persuasive for the President since hesuggested that “continued neutrality would mean aloss of ‘future influence in world affairs.’”49 Throughoutthe conflict in Europe the U.S. administration andeven members of the U.S. naval command, such asAdmiral Benson, had dreamed of the United Statesbeing the arbitrator that would bring an end to themadness. By March of 1917 they had come to realizethat the only way to gain a spot at the negotiation ofthe peace was to bring about the end of the war.50

When it declared war, the administration devoted itselfcompletely to the prosecution of the conflict.

48 Simpson, 19. 49 Trask, 50. 50 Simpson, 9.

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Establishing Cooperation in Anti-SubmarineWarfare, April 1917-December 1917

The beginning stage of U.S. belligerency, whichlasted from April to July 1917, saw the entrance of theUnited States into the war and a massive push toshore up the Allies after the military hardships of 1916and against the possibly fatal threat of the Germansubmarine campaign to the war effort in Europe. TheAllies, and the British especially, were in rough shapedue to the heavy shipping losses caused primarily byGerman submarines. Allied shipping had lost 500,000tons in February, 500,000 tons in March and 200,000tons in the first ten days of April.51 This meant that theU-boats were sinking roughly a quarter of all shipsleaving Britain.52 The most disturbing fact for theAllies, however, was that only ten per cent of thetonnage was being replaced by production.53 TheUnited States’ preparedness was also a major concernfor its British ally. The British expected massivereinforcements from the United States, but the U.S.fleet was in no position for full mobilization. Near theeve of the U.S. entry into the war the Navy wasunprepared, with “only 10 per cent of its ships fullymanned and only one-third were ready for service.”54

The fleet contained an impressive 74 destroyers whichcould have been used for anti-submarine work, butonly 54 of them were actually modern and capable ofanti-submarine activities.55 Also, it was not until

51 Trask, 65. 52 Simpson, 23. 53 Ibid. 54 Ibid., 10. 55 Ibid.


March 23 that Daniels was ordered to “add 87,000men to the Navy.”56 The fact that President Wilson wasstill hopeful for a peaceful solution to the conflict withGermany and his insistence on armed neutralityprevented the Navy from preparing until very close tothe actual declaration of war. However, the UnitedStates Department of the Navy had begun cooperationwith the Royal Navy on March 20, 1917, and by March24 a general plan of integration was drawn up whichemphasized the establishment of U.S. anti-submarineforces in Southern Ireland.57 It should beacknowledged, however, that “no mature plans wereconcreted nor consolation had taken place with theEuropean Allies before April 6.”58 The Germans weredoing well in this period, and they continued to growtheir submarine fleet to put pressure on the Allies.There were around 120 submarines in service with theGerman Fleet and this number was rising by aboutnine a month, given construction and casualties.59

This meant that submarine threat would only begrowing in the critical months ahead. Everything theBritish tried failed to have an impact on the rising tollof shipping.60

When Sims arrived in London on April 7, 1917, theAdmiralty, under First Sea Lord Jellicoe, immediatelybegan bringing their American naval representative upto speed on the situation in Europe. The British werevery eager to establish contacts with the U.S. Navy andmake it aware of the danger in the western approaches

56 Trask, 51. 57 Ibid., 56. 58 Ibid., 60. 59 Simpson, 6. 60 Ibid.

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Establishing Cooperation in Anti-SubmarineWarfare, April 1917-December 1917

The beginning stage of U.S. belligerency, whichlasted from April to July 1917, saw the entrance of theUnited States into the war and a massive push toshore up the Allies after the military hardships of 1916and against the possibly fatal threat of the Germansubmarine campaign to the war effort in Europe. TheAllies, and the British especially, were in rough shapedue to the heavy shipping losses caused primarily byGerman submarines. Allied shipping had lost 500,000tons in February, 500,000 tons in March and 200,000tons in the first ten days of April.51 This meant that theU-boats were sinking roughly a quarter of all shipsleaving Britain.52 The most disturbing fact for theAllies, however, was that only ten per cent of thetonnage was being replaced by production.53 TheUnited States’ preparedness was also a major concernfor its British ally. The British expected massivereinforcements from the United States, but the U.S.fleet was in no position for full mobilization. Near theeve of the U.S. entry into the war the Navy wasunprepared, with “only 10 per cent of its ships fullymanned and only one-third were ready for service.”54

The fleet contained an impressive 74 destroyers whichcould have been used for anti-submarine work, butonly 54 of them were actually modern and capable ofanti-submarine activities.55 Also, it was not until

51 Trask, 65. 52 Simpson, 23. 53 Ibid. 54 Ibid., 10. 55 Ibid.


March 23 that Daniels was ordered to “add 87,000men to the Navy.”56 The fact that President Wilson wasstill hopeful for a peaceful solution to the conflict withGermany and his insistence on armed neutralityprevented the Navy from preparing until very close tothe actual declaration of war. However, the UnitedStates Department of the Navy had begun cooperationwith the Royal Navy on March 20, 1917, and by March24 a general plan of integration was drawn up whichemphasized the establishment of U.S. anti-submarineforces in Southern Ireland.57 It should beacknowledged, however, that “no mature plans wereconcreted nor consolation had taken place with theEuropean Allies before April 6.”58 The Germans weredoing well in this period, and they continued to growtheir submarine fleet to put pressure on the Allies.There were around 120 submarines in service with theGerman Fleet and this number was rising by aboutnine a month, given construction and casualties.59

This meant that submarine threat would only begrowing in the critical months ahead. Everything theBritish tried failed to have an impact on the rising tollof shipping.60

When Sims arrived in London on April 7, 1917, theAdmiralty, under First Sea Lord Jellicoe, immediatelybegan bringing their American naval representative upto speed on the situation in Europe. The British werevery eager to establish contacts with the U.S. Navy andmake it aware of the danger in the western approaches

56 Trask, 51. 57 Ibid., 56. 58 Ibid., 60. 59 Simpson, 6. 60 Ibid.

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to the British Isles. In his first cable to Sims, Jellicoereveals how glad he was to be working with an officerwhom he knew; he stated that “I feel sure that we shallbe able to establish close co-operation between the twocountries so far as naval matters are concerned.”61

This first encounter boded well for Anglo-Americancooperation against submarines in Europe. Two daysafter receiving Sims, Jellicoe sent out a memorandumto the April 10 Hampton Roads conference in theUnited States which enumerated the necessary stepsfor defeating the submarines, including protectingmerchant vessels, sending anti-submarinereinforcements, and bringing captured Germanmerchant vessels unto the service of the Allies.62 TheHampton Roads conference was considered a success,and the United States agreed to send 6 destroyers tothe Irish coast, although it would take time for theU.S. Navy to get going.63 The early diplomatic missionthat Britain sent to the United States proved to be akey part in getting that nation on a war footing, butlater it would take U.S. missions to Europe to bringthe two nations into complete cooperation in anti-submarine activities.

Sims was quickly integrated into the Admiralty’sheadquarters in order to give the U.S. the best possiblefeel for the dire shipping situation. Sims’sunprecedented access to British information isreflected in his cable to Daniels on April 19, 1917.Sims told the Admiralty that he needed completeaccess to all the information pertaining to the naval

61 Ibid., 29. 62 Ibid., 30-31. 63 Trask, 63.


situation, and this was granted.64 Sims notes hisexclusive status in the Admiralty when he states that“I have daily conferences with the First Sea Lord, bothat his office and residence, and also have been givenentire freedom of the Admiralty and access to allGovernment Officials.”65 The fact that Sims wasprovided so much access and attention seems toindicate that the British may have been feelingsomewhat desperate and were willing to do whateverwas necessary to obtain the reinforcements needed intheir anti-submarine operations. This is a greatexample of how necessity, created by severe shippinglosses, was a major driving factor in the establishmentand growth of Anglo-American cooperation. Sims alsoemphasizes what would come to be one of the mostimportant concepts of the cooperation: “the criticalarea in which the war’s decision will be made is in theeastern Atlantic at the focus of all lines ofcommunication.”66 At this point Sims knew thateverything would hinge on keeping the sea lanes safeand preventing the Allies from being cut off by thesubmarines. Much of the coming months would bespent trying to convince the Navy Department inWashington of this vital requirement. This importantcable was preceded by others which raised the alarmin the United States, such as his April 14 cable whichstated that “To accelerate and insure defeat of thesubmarine campaign, immediate active cooperationabsolutely necessary” and that this required “Maximum number of destroyers be sent, accompanied

64 Simpson, 38. 65 Ibid. 66 Ibid.

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to the British Isles. In his first cable to Sims, Jellicoereveals how glad he was to be working with an officerwhom he knew; he stated that “I feel sure that we shallbe able to establish close co-operation between the twocountries so far as naval matters are concerned.”61

This first encounter boded well for Anglo-Americancooperation against submarines in Europe. Two daysafter receiving Sims, Jellicoe sent out a memorandumto the April 10 Hampton Roads conference in theUnited States which enumerated the necessary stepsfor defeating the submarines, including protectingmerchant vessels, sending anti-submarinereinforcements, and bringing captured Germanmerchant vessels unto the service of the Allies.62 TheHampton Roads conference was considered a success,and the United States agreed to send 6 destroyers tothe Irish coast, although it would take time for theU.S. Navy to get going.63 The early diplomatic missionthat Britain sent to the United States proved to be akey part in getting that nation on a war footing, butlater it would take U.S. missions to Europe to bringthe two nations into complete cooperation in anti-submarine activities.

Sims was quickly integrated into the Admiralty’sheadquarters in order to give the U.S. the best possiblefeel for the dire shipping situation. Sims’sunprecedented access to British information isreflected in his cable to Daniels on April 19, 1917.Sims told the Admiralty that he needed completeaccess to all the information pertaining to the naval

61 Ibid., 29. 62 Ibid., 30-31. 63 Trask, 63.


situation, and this was granted.64 Sims notes hisexclusive status in the Admiralty when he states that“I have daily conferences with the First Sea Lord, bothat his office and residence, and also have been givenentire freedom of the Admiralty and access to allGovernment Officials.”65 The fact that Sims wasprovided so much access and attention seems toindicate that the British may have been feelingsomewhat desperate and were willing to do whateverwas necessary to obtain the reinforcements needed intheir anti-submarine operations. This is a greatexample of how necessity, created by severe shippinglosses, was a major driving factor in the establishmentand growth of Anglo-American cooperation. Sims alsoemphasizes what would come to be one of the mostimportant concepts of the cooperation: “the criticalarea in which the war’s decision will be made is in theeastern Atlantic at the focus of all lines ofcommunication.”66 At this point Sims knew thateverything would hinge on keeping the sea lanes safeand preventing the Allies from being cut off by thesubmarines. Much of the coming months would bespent trying to convince the Navy Department inWashington of this vital requirement. This importantcable was preceded by others which raised the alarmin the United States, such as his April 14 cable whichstated that “To accelerate and insure defeat of thesubmarine campaign, immediate active cooperationabsolutely necessary” and that this required “Maximum number of destroyers be sent, accompanied

64 Simpson, 38. 65 Ibid. 66 Ibid.

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by small anti-submarine craft.”67 This cable alsoreveals how desperate the British were to bring theUnited States into the war which made them extremelyaccommodating and spurred cooperation.

In early May 1917, Admiral Sims was placed incommand of the contingent of Destroyers that hadarrived in Queenstown, Ireland on May 4.68 Therelationship that developed between the commander ofthe Queenstown base, Admiral Sir Lewis Bayly, andSims would prove to be one of the most unique andconstructive of the naval war. Sims’ initial encounterwith Bayly did not bode well for their time together inSouthern Ireland and Sims remembered in an Augustletter to Captain Pratt, the Naval Department’s Chief ofStaff, that “when Bayly came to the Admiralty I wasinvited of course to meet him in Admiral Jellicoe’soffice. On that occasion he was as rude to me as oneman can well be to another.”69 Sims described howAdmiral Jellicoe had been horrified by Bayly’s behaviorand even noted that “when he had gone AdmiralJellicoe apologized to me, and said that he wouldremove the Admiral if I thought it was necessary.”70

Sims said that it would not be necessary but thisepisode reveals just how willing the British were toensure that the U.S. presence in the westernapproaches was established. This is a perfect exampleof necessity facilitating close cooperation.

On May 4, 1917 the first flotilla of U.S. destroyersarrived in Queenstown and Sims soon followed to take

67 Ibid., 207. 68 Trask, 77. 69 Simpson, 251. 70 Ibid.


command of the U.S. contingent. This trip provedextremely important because both the U.S.commander and the flotilla made a fine firstimpression. Sims reported on the arrival of the U.S.contingent in a May 11 cable to Daniels, when hestated that “speaking generally, the impression madeby our officers and our ships has caused very favorablecomment both at their base and in the Admiralty.”71

The warm reception that the Destroyer crews receivedand the state of their ships and fighting spirit did a lotto foster positive relations between Anglo-Americanforces in the most important sector of naval war. Simsmade sure that the flotilla under his commandconducted itself properly when he sent out orders onApril 29 that read, “Require all officers not only torefrain from all criticism of British methods, mannersand customs, and ask them to refrain from mentioningthem in their letters. Also give attention to bringingabout friendly relations between our enlisted men andthe British.”72 Sims’ relationship with Bayly improvedvery quickly. A little more than a week after theprevious cable to Daniels, May 26, 1917, he reportedthat “Vice-Admiral commanding at Queenstown, SirLewis Bayly, is one of the wisest, ablest men of myacquaintance, as well as one of the most admirablecharacters, and it is a positive pleasure to serve underhim.”73 And, more importantly, Sims also noted that “Iam aware that I have his complete confidence.”74 Theinteraction between Bayly, Sims and the U.S. and

71 Ibid., 221. 72 Ibid., 214. 73 Ibid., 224. 74 Ibid.

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by small anti-submarine craft.”67 This cable alsoreveals how desperate the British were to bring theUnited States into the war which made them extremelyaccommodating and spurred cooperation.

In early May 1917, Admiral Sims was placed incommand of the contingent of Destroyers that hadarrived in Queenstown, Ireland on May 4.68 Therelationship that developed between the commander ofthe Queenstown base, Admiral Sir Lewis Bayly, andSims would prove to be one of the most unique andconstructive of the naval war. Sims’ initial encounterwith Bayly did not bode well for their time together inSouthern Ireland and Sims remembered in an Augustletter to Captain Pratt, the Naval Department’s Chief ofStaff, that “when Bayly came to the Admiralty I wasinvited of course to meet him in Admiral Jellicoe’soffice. On that occasion he was as rude to me as oneman can well be to another.”69 Sims described howAdmiral Jellicoe had been horrified by Bayly’s behaviorand even noted that “when he had gone AdmiralJellicoe apologized to me, and said that he wouldremove the Admiral if I thought it was necessary.”70

Sims said that it would not be necessary but thisepisode reveals just how willing the British were toensure that the U.S. presence in the westernapproaches was established. This is a perfect exampleof necessity facilitating close cooperation.

On May 4, 1917 the first flotilla of U.S. destroyersarrived in Queenstown and Sims soon followed to take

67 Ibid., 207. 68 Trask, 77. 69 Simpson, 251. 70 Ibid.


command of the U.S. contingent. This trip provedextremely important because both the U.S.commander and the flotilla made a fine firstimpression. Sims reported on the arrival of the U.S.contingent in a May 11 cable to Daniels, when hestated that “speaking generally, the impression madeby our officers and our ships has caused very favorablecomment both at their base and in the Admiralty.”71

The warm reception that the Destroyer crews receivedand the state of their ships and fighting spirit did a lotto foster positive relations between Anglo-Americanforces in the most important sector of naval war. Simsmade sure that the flotilla under his commandconducted itself properly when he sent out orders onApril 29 that read, “Require all officers not only torefrain from all criticism of British methods, mannersand customs, and ask them to refrain from mentioningthem in their letters. Also give attention to bringingabout friendly relations between our enlisted men andthe British.”72 Sims’ relationship with Bayly improvedvery quickly. A little more than a week after theprevious cable to Daniels, May 26, 1917, he reportedthat “Vice-Admiral commanding at Queenstown, SirLewis Bayly, is one of the wisest, ablest men of myacquaintance, as well as one of the most admirablecharacters, and it is a positive pleasure to serve underhim.”73 And, more importantly, Sims also noted that “Iam aware that I have his complete confidence.”74 Theinteraction between Bayly, Sims and the U.S. and

71 Ibid., 221. 72 Ibid., 214. 73 Ibid., 224. 74 Ibid.

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British crews formed the foundation of Anglo-Americanoperational cooperation for the rest of the conflict.Sims and Bayly eventually created a strange buteffective joint command system that Sims notes he wasunwilling to change in August 1917 due to theeffectiveness of the relationship. The diplomatic movespromoted by Sims and the officers under his commandcreated an atmosphere of brotherhood between theanti-submarine forces in Southern Ireland that wouldserve the Allies well when the convoy system waseventually implemented. Even before Sims’ May 11cable was sent the anti-submarine forces had anadvanced base established in Berehaven and werebeginning to utilize the newest anti-sub weapon, thedepth charge.75

Not long after the United States joined the waragainst Germany, the Admiralty began to realize thatit would have to employ a new anti-submarinestrategy. This led to the creation of the convoy systemwhich would prove key to defeating the submarine andwas the U.S. Navy’s largest contribution to the wareffort. The push for a convoy system began on April 26,1917 when Admiral Sir Alexander L. Duff, AdmiralBayly’s superior, recommended convoys as a countermeasure to unrestricted submarine warfare.76 All inthe Admiralty agreed that this would require theassistance of the United States since Britain’s fleet wasalready stretched to the limit. Both Bayly and Simswere proponents of the convoy system, and in a April30 cable to Daniels, Sims stated that the convoysystem was being examined by the Admiralty and that

75 Ibid., 221-222. 76 Trask, 26.


it would involve one escort to protect merchant vesselsin the open ocean crossing and then a destroyer escortwhen the vessels entered the danger zone aroundSouthern Ireland.77 The most important point thatSims made in this cable his statement stated that“This plan would require us to furnish some escortvessels and additional vessels on this side and wouldnecessitate abandonment of present patrol againstraiders.”78 Basically, this meant that the U.S. wouldhave to put an end to its East Coast patrols whichwere supposed to protect against possible, and highlyunlikely, U-boat attacks in the western hemisphere.The estimated need for this operation was put forwardin a May 1 Admiralty memorandum which noted thatthe experimental convoy would require 14 escortvessels and 18 destroyers.79

June proved to be a rocky month for the anti-submarine forces in European waters since thesubmarine campaign continued, but the convoy trialproved effective. By June 1 the United States had sent24 destroyers to Queenstown.80 The success of theconvoy experiment program laid the foundation forgreater implementation in the months to come.81 OnJune 14 Sims suggested that all Allied traffic movetoward being convoyed.82 In a June 14 cable he notedthat the “British are in process of changing fromprevious methods of handling shipping to the convoysystem” and that “Every indication points to the

77 Simpson, 215. 78 Ibid. 79 Ibid., 216. 80 Trask, 77. 81 Ibid., 78. 82 Ibid.

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British crews formed the foundation of Anglo-Americanoperational cooperation for the rest of the conflict.Sims and Bayly eventually created a strange buteffective joint command system that Sims notes he wasunwilling to change in August 1917 due to theeffectiveness of the relationship. The diplomatic movespromoted by Sims and the officers under his commandcreated an atmosphere of brotherhood between theanti-submarine forces in Southern Ireland that wouldserve the Allies well when the convoy system waseventually implemented. Even before Sims’ May 11cable was sent the anti-submarine forces had anadvanced base established in Berehaven and werebeginning to utilize the newest anti-sub weapon, thedepth charge.75

Not long after the United States joined the waragainst Germany, the Admiralty began to realize thatit would have to employ a new anti-submarinestrategy. This led to the creation of the convoy systemwhich would prove key to defeating the submarine andwas the U.S. Navy’s largest contribution to the wareffort. The push for a convoy system began on April 26,1917 when Admiral Sir Alexander L. Duff, AdmiralBayly’s superior, recommended convoys as a countermeasure to unrestricted submarine warfare.76 All inthe Admiralty agreed that this would require theassistance of the United States since Britain’s fleet wasalready stretched to the limit. Both Bayly and Simswere proponents of the convoy system, and in a April30 cable to Daniels, Sims stated that the convoysystem was being examined by the Admiralty and that

75 Ibid., 221-222. 76 Trask, 26.


it would involve one escort to protect merchant vesselsin the open ocean crossing and then a destroyer escortwhen the vessels entered the danger zone aroundSouthern Ireland.77 The most important point thatSims made in this cable his statement stated that“This plan would require us to furnish some escortvessels and additional vessels on this side and wouldnecessitate abandonment of present patrol againstraiders.”78 Basically, this meant that the U.S. wouldhave to put an end to its East Coast patrols whichwere supposed to protect against possible, and highlyunlikely, U-boat attacks in the western hemisphere.The estimated need for this operation was put forwardin a May 1 Admiralty memorandum which noted thatthe experimental convoy would require 14 escortvessels and 18 destroyers.79

June proved to be a rocky month for the anti-submarine forces in European waters since thesubmarine campaign continued, but the convoy trialproved effective. By June 1 the United States had sent24 destroyers to Queenstown.80 The success of theconvoy experiment program laid the foundation forgreater implementation in the months to come.81 OnJune 14 Sims suggested that all Allied traffic movetoward being convoyed.82 In a June 14 cable he notedthat the “British are in process of changing fromprevious methods of handling shipping to the convoysystem” and that “Every indication points to the

77 Simpson, 215. 78 Ibid. 79 Ibid., 216. 80 Trask, 77. 81 Ibid., 78. 82 Ibid.

136




desirability of adopting the convoy system for all trafficand particularly from our North Atlantic ports.”83 Tothis he added “… I cannot lay too much stress uponthe urgent necessity of increasing the destroyer andother patrol forces here with utmost dispatch.”84 Simsemphasized the offensive potential of the convoyduring the month of June due to the fact that many inWashington either did not believe in the system orwanted to try bolder actions such as attacking welldefended submarine bases. Sims defended the convoywell in a June 16 cable to Daniels when he stated that“This convoy system is looked upon as an offensivemeasure.”85 He also explained the advantages of theconvoy by explaining that “If shipping were grouped inconvoys the enemy would be forced to seek us, therebyimposing upon him the necessity of dispersing hisforces, [so] as to locate us, while on the other hand, weobtain the benefit of the principle of counter attack onhis dispersed line.”86 Even after these explanations,Daniels and Admiral William S. Benson, Chief of NavalOperations, still viewed arming merchant vessels as aviable solution to the submarine. The presence of U.S.vessels and introduction of the convoy system seem tohave had some effect on the submarine campaignsince sinking statistics began a downward trend. InMay 600,000 tons were lost and in June 700,000 tonsof shipping were lost.87 This was down from thehighest month of losses of April which had over900,000 tons lost. The trend seemed to be reversing to

83 Simpson, 228. 84 Ibid. 85 Ibid., 229. 86 Ibid. 87 Trask, 81.


a certain degree but it would be some time beforelosses would fall below the monthly Allied productionof new tonnage.

The months of July through September wouldprove to be some of the most important months in thewhole naval conflict due to the fact that the Alliesbegan an implementation of the convoy system and thesubmarine campaign came to its climax with the longdays and good weather of late summer. By the end ofJuly there were 37 U.S. destroyers in the Europeantheatre.88 However, the U.S. Department of the Navyand British Admiralty continued to disagree on whatconstituted the best anti-submarine strategy, andSims constantly complained that bettercommunications needed to be established. The mainproblem in the summer was getting the NavyDepartment in Washington on board with theAdmiralty’s plan for a complete convoy system in andout of the warzone around Great Britain. In a June 29cable, Jellicoe stated that “I am convinced convoysystem is a necessity and only method left to us.”89 Healso noted that full implementation of the systemwould require 50 cruisers and 80 destroyers whichmeant that the United States would have to pitch in.90

However, Admiral Benson, the U.S. Chief of NavalOperations, was still not sold on the convoy system. Ina July 1 cable, Commodore Sir Guy Gaunt, the BritishNaval liaison officer in Washington, informed Jellicoethat he “Just discussed your and Sims’ cable of thelast three days with Admiral Benson. He is still

88 Simpson, 201. 89 Ibid., 233. 90 Ibid.

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desirability of adopting the convoy system for all trafficand particularly from our North Atlantic ports.”83 Tothis he added “… I cannot lay too much stress uponthe urgent necessity of increasing the destroyer andother patrol forces here with utmost dispatch.”84 Simsemphasized the offensive potential of the convoyduring the month of June due to the fact that many inWashington either did not believe in the system orwanted to try bolder actions such as attacking welldefended submarine bases. Sims defended the convoywell in a June 16 cable to Daniels when he stated that“This convoy system is looked upon as an offensivemeasure.”85 He also explained the advantages of theconvoy by explaining that “If shipping were grouped inconvoys the enemy would be forced to seek us, therebyimposing upon him the necessity of dispersing hisforces, [so] as to locate us, while on the other hand, weobtain the benefit of the principle of counter attack onhis dispersed line.”86 Even after these explanations,Daniels and Admiral William S. Benson, Chief of NavalOperations, still viewed arming merchant vessels as aviable solution to the submarine. The presence of U.S.vessels and introduction of the convoy system seem tohave had some effect on the submarine campaignsince sinking statistics began a downward trend. InMay 600,000 tons were lost and in June 700,000 tonsof shipping were lost.87 This was down from thehighest month of losses of April which had over900,000 tons lost. The trend seemed to be reversing to

83 Simpson, 228. 84 Ibid. 85 Ibid., 229. 86 Ibid. 87 Trask, 81.


a certain degree but it would be some time beforelosses would fall below the monthly Allied productionof new tonnage.

The months of July through September wouldprove to be some of the most important months in thewhole naval conflict due to the fact that the Alliesbegan an implementation of the convoy system and thesubmarine campaign came to its climax with the longdays and good weather of late summer. By the end ofJuly there were 37 U.S. destroyers in the Europeantheatre.88 However, the U.S. Department of the Navyand British Admiralty continued to disagree on whatconstituted the best anti-submarine strategy, andSims constantly complained that bettercommunications needed to be established. The mainproblem in the summer was getting the NavyDepartment in Washington on board with theAdmiralty’s plan for a complete convoy system in andout of the warzone around Great Britain. In a June 29cable, Jellicoe stated that “I am convinced convoysystem is a necessity and only method left to us.”89 Healso noted that full implementation of the systemwould require 50 cruisers and 80 destroyers whichmeant that the United States would have to pitch in.90

However, Admiral Benson, the U.S. Chief of NavalOperations, was still not sold on the convoy system. Ina July 1 cable, Commodore Sir Guy Gaunt, the BritishNaval liaison officer in Washington, informed Jellicoethat he “Just discussed your and Sims’ cable of thelast three days with Admiral Benson. He is still

88 Simpson, 201. 89 Ibid., 233. 90 Ibid.

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opposed to convoys and strongly in favor of armedmerchant vessels.”91 The divide between the NavyDepartment and the naval forces in Europe wasprimarily the result of distance and communicationsproblems but it also stemmed from the fact that manyin Washington were still suspicious of Britishintentions in the naval arena.92 Much of this stemmedfrom anger over the blockade during U.S. neutralitywere it was perceived that Britain was using the war togain trade advantages.93

From the Allied vantage point in Europe the wareffort was in a very dangerous place due to the factthat continued heavy losses from the submarineswould eventually take them below the tonnage neededto supply the fronts and their economies. Simsunderstood this situation well and endlessly proddedthe Navy Department for a more rapid response. In aJuly 3 cable to the sympathetic Captain Pratt at theNavy Department Sims noted that the Allies required32,000,000 tons of shipping per year to supply theirneeds and that “when it falls below [that], it will bewholly impossible to maintain this population and tomaintain the armies in the front.”94 In plain languageSims confided that “The truth of the matter is that theenemy is winning the war.”95 One of the main reasonsthat the Navy Department was not acting quickly onthese concerns was the conviction that Sims and Pagewere pawns of the British and not to be takenseriously. Sims tried to remedy the situation by asking

91 Ibid., 234. 92Hendrick, vol. 2, 284. 93 Ibid. 94 Simpson, 37. 95 Ibid., 238.


in a September cable for a naval officer fromWashington to come and assess the situation.96 In hisbook, Captains and Cabinets: Anglo-American NavalRelation 1917-1918, David Trask notes that “TheBritish Government shared Sims’ desire to enhanceWashington’s grasp of the European situation, everyday realizing more clearly that before that the outcomeof the war would probably depend upon theeffectiveness of the American reinforcement.”97

After practically a whole month of Sims, Page, andJellicoe calling for greater cooperation, the Wilsonadministration decided to send Admiral Henry T.Mayo, Commander-in-Chief, Atlantic Fleet, to aconference with the Allies.98 The conversation betweenthe British and Americans focused around the anti-submarine campaign and different operations thatwere being considered such as the North Sea barrage,attacks on sub bases, and a possible close-inblockade. Meeting with Admiral Sir Eric Geddes, whowas now the First Sea Lord, convinced Mayo of theimpracticality of attacks on sub bases and close-inblockading action and, more importantly, it convincedthe Admiral of the need to use patrol craft in theconvoys. The meeting was not a complete gamechanger, but Trask makes a keen observation that it“was a useful step toward fuller coordination of theinter-Allied naval effort, and stimulated more activityin the United States.”99 The meeting really moved theNavy Department and Admiralty toward complete

96 Trask, 138. 97 Ibid. 98 Ibid., 149. 99 Ibid., 153.

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opposed to convoys and strongly in favor of armedmerchant vessels.”91 The divide between the NavyDepartment and the naval forces in Europe wasprimarily the result of distance and communicationsproblems but it also stemmed from the fact that manyin Washington were still suspicious of Britishintentions in the naval arena.92 Much of this stemmedfrom anger over the blockade during U.S. neutralitywere it was perceived that Britain was using the war togain trade advantages.93

From the Allied vantage point in Europe the wareffort was in a very dangerous place due to the factthat continued heavy losses from the submarineswould eventually take them below the tonnage neededto supply the fronts and their economies. Simsunderstood this situation well and endlessly proddedthe Navy Department for a more rapid response. In aJuly 3 cable to the sympathetic Captain Pratt at theNavy Department Sims noted that the Allies required32,000,000 tons of shipping per year to supply theirneeds and that “when it falls below [that], it will bewholly impossible to maintain this population and tomaintain the armies in the front.”94 In plain languageSims confided that “The truth of the matter is that theenemy is winning the war.”95 One of the main reasonsthat the Navy Department was not acting quickly onthese concerns was the conviction that Sims and Pagewere pawns of the British and not to be takenseriously. Sims tried to remedy the situation by asking

91 Ibid., 234. 92Hendrick, vol. 2, 284. 93 Ibid. 94 Simpson, 37. 95 Ibid., 238.


in a September cable for a naval officer fromWashington to come and assess the situation.96 In hisbook, Captains and Cabinets: Anglo-American NavalRelation 1917-1918, David Trask notes that “TheBritish Government shared Sims’ desire to enhanceWashington’s grasp of the European situation, everyday realizing more clearly that before that the outcomeof the war would probably depend upon theeffectiveness of the American reinforcement.”97

After practically a whole month of Sims, Page, andJellicoe calling for greater cooperation, the Wilsonadministration decided to send Admiral Henry T.Mayo, Commander-in-Chief, Atlantic Fleet, to aconference with the Allies.98 The conversation betweenthe British and Americans focused around the anti-submarine campaign and different operations thatwere being considered such as the North Sea barrage,attacks on sub bases, and a possible close-inblockade. Meeting with Admiral Sir Eric Geddes, whowas now the First Sea Lord, convinced Mayo of theimpracticality of attacks on sub bases and close-inblockading action and, more importantly, it convincedthe Admiral of the need to use patrol craft in theconvoys. The meeting was not a complete gamechanger, but Trask makes a keen observation that it“was a useful step toward fuller coordination of theinter-Allied naval effort, and stimulated more activityin the United States.”99 The meeting really moved theNavy Department and Admiralty toward complete

96 Trask, 138. 97 Ibid. 98 Ibid., 149. 99 Ibid., 153.

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cooperation, “as far as the undersea war, theAdmiralty was committed to the convoy system.”100 TheMayo Mission and its conclusions is a great example ofhow a lack of other viable strategic options allowed theBritish and American forces to focus their attention onthe most important aspect of their joint operationswhich was protecting the lifelines of the allies byexpanding and reinforcing the convoy system. TheAllied losses during these months were quite high, butthey were also always lower than April, which wasremarkable given that the days were so much longerand sailing conditions were better. The losses at thattime were 558,000 tons in July, 812,000 tons inAugust and 352,000 tons in September.101 Oneimportant note about these casualties was that mostof this tonnage was replaced by production now thatthe U.S. economy was moving into full mobilization.102

Full Anglo-American cooperation in anti-submarinewarfare should probably not be considered completebefore the last three months of 1917. From Octoberthrough December 1917, the process of buildingcooperation between the two navies reached a levelwhere it would remain for the rest of the conflict. Thefinal organization of cooperation was a diplomaticdance that resulted in the foundation of the SupremeAllied War Council and, more importantly for anti-submarine warfare, the Allied Naval Council. AnOctober 28 memorandum summed up the situationwell when it implied that the “will to cooperate waspresent, but not the way” between the Navy

100 Ibid., 156. 101 Ibid., 134. 102 Ibid.


Department and the Admiralty.103 By October theAdmiralty and the Navy Department were still havingtrouble understanding one another. The situation wasimproved by the establishment of the Planning Sectionin London in November which “would allow Americanofficers to improve communication with theAdmiralty.”104 This council was a joint U.S. and Britishundertaking where officers would critically examinecurrent strategies and policies to insure effectiveness.Trask notes that the group “did exactly as desired,working in tandem with Admiralty planners, and madesignificant contributions to the Anglo-American effortduring the decisive stages of the war.”105 However,back in Washington, members of the administrationand Department of the Navy still harbored suspicionsof British activities.106

Page probably said it best when he stated that he“believed that ‘misunderstanding had arisen becausepersonal acquaintance and contact are lackingbetween naval authorities in Washington andLondon.’”107 This led Sims to request senioradministration and Naval Department officials to makea visit in an October 15 cable. The result was thatWilson sent Colonel House and Admiral Benson, bothof whom arrived on November 7, 1917. The Alliedconference that House and Benson had arrived toparticipate in was postponed until the end ofNovember due to the Bolshevik revolution and serious

103 Ibid., 165. 104 Ibid. 105 Ibid., 166. 106 Ibid., 166-168. 107 Ibid., 168.

141




cooperation, “as far as the undersea war, theAdmiralty was committed to the convoy system.”100 TheMayo Mission and its conclusions is a great example ofhow a lack of other viable strategic options allowed theBritish and American forces to focus their attention onthe most important aspect of their joint operationswhich was protecting the lifelines of the allies byexpanding and reinforcing the convoy system. TheAllied losses during these months were quite high, butthey were also always lower than April, which wasremarkable given that the days were so much longerand sailing conditions were better. The losses at thattime were 558,000 tons in July, 812,000 tons inAugust and 352,000 tons in September.101 Oneimportant note about these casualties was that mostof this tonnage was replaced by production now thatthe U.S. economy was moving into full mobilization.102

Full Anglo-American cooperation in anti-submarinewarfare should probably not be considered completebefore the last three months of 1917. From Octoberthrough December 1917, the process of buildingcooperation between the two navies reached a levelwhere it would remain for the rest of the conflict. Thefinal organization of cooperation was a diplomaticdance that resulted in the foundation of the SupremeAllied War Council and, more importantly for anti-submarine warfare, the Allied Naval Council. AnOctober 28 memorandum summed up the situationwell when it implied that the “will to cooperate waspresent, but not the way” between the Navy

100 Ibid., 156. 101 Ibid., 134. 102 Ibid.


Department and the Admiralty.103 By October theAdmiralty and the Navy Department were still havingtrouble understanding one another. The situation wasimproved by the establishment of the Planning Sectionin London in November which “would allow Americanofficers to improve communication with theAdmiralty.”104 This council was a joint U.S. and Britishundertaking where officers would critically examinecurrent strategies and policies to insure effectiveness.Trask notes that the group “did exactly as desired,working in tandem with Admiralty planners, and madesignificant contributions to the Anglo-American effortduring the decisive stages of the war.”105 However,back in Washington, members of the administrationand Department of the Navy still harbored suspicionsof British activities.106

Page probably said it best when he stated that he“believed that ‘misunderstanding had arisen becausepersonal acquaintance and contact are lackingbetween naval authorities in Washington andLondon.’”107 This led Sims to request senioradministration and Naval Department officials to makea visit in an October 15 cable. The result was thatWilson sent Colonel House and Admiral Benson, bothof whom arrived on November 7, 1917. The Alliedconference that House and Benson had arrived toparticipate in was postponed until the end ofNovember due to the Bolshevik revolution and serious

103 Ibid., 165. 104 Ibid. 105 Ibid., 166. 106 Ibid., 166-168. 107 Ibid., 168.

142




Italian defeats at Caporetto.108 This lull allowed theCommander of Naval Operations, Benson, to observethe situation from the European point of view, and“Three days after the mission reached Britain, AdmiralBenson took the first step toward general acceptanceof the naval viewpoint expressed by the BritishAdmiralty and Admiral Sims.”109 Benson’s visit toEurope may have been one of the most importantdevelopments of the House mission because hisunderstanding and assistance was required for theU.S. forces in Europe gain the full support of theDepartment of the Navy. The real clearing up ofmisunderstandings came about with the establishmentof the Supreme Allied War Council in late November.The Council consisted of the heads of government andsecondary representatives from Britain, France, Italy,and the United States.110 This move went a long waytoward clearing up the disconnection between manypolitical leaders and the militaries that served them.More importantly, however, was the creation of theAllied Naval Council which required all naval staffs toreport their general policies. The Allied Naval Councilhelped to get all the Allies on the same page in termsof naval operations and facilitated the extension of theconvoy system which would eventually defeat thesubmarine campaign. The Allied Naval Council wasofficially announced on December 14, 1917, and Simswas appointed as the U.S. representative on January8, 1918.111 The House Mission which culminated in the

108 Ibid., 175. 109 Ibid. 110 Ibid., 176. 111 Ibid., 180.


creation of the Allied Naval Council was really the laststep taken into full cooperation. With the creation ofthe Allied Naval Council, all naval staffs begancoordinating policies and moved to a common strategyof anti-submarine convoys that would stave off defeatand ensure victory in the coming year.

Conclusion

The full cooperation and coordination thatcharacterized Anglo-American operations in anti-submarine warfare at the beginning of 1918 was notimmediately established with the entrance of theUnited States into World War I, but was developed overtime. The high level of cooperation was primarily theresult of diplomatic relations, severe Allied shippinglosses, and the lack of viable strategic alternatives tothe convoy system. Diplomatic movements had helpedto facilitate the cooperation as early as 1913, whenWalter Hines Page became the U.S. ambassador toBritain. Page helped the British government steerthrough the dangers of the blockade of Germany andAmerican neutrality. After the U.S. entered the war,Page continued to support the British and AdmiralSims in their campaign to convince the U.S. NavyDepartment of the need for a fully functional convoysystem. Admiral Sims’ arrival in April, 1917, and hisdiplomatic efforts with the Admiralty and theQueenstown anti-submarine forces, created a closeworking relationship between the British andAmerican anti-submarine forces. This relationshipallowed the two to call for the adoption of the convoysystem. Cooperation was finally completed inSeptember and November of 1917 when the Mayo and

143




Italian defeats at Caporetto.108 This lull allowed theCommander of Naval Operations, Benson, to observethe situation from the European point of view, and“Three days after the mission reached Britain, AdmiralBenson took the first step toward general acceptanceof the naval viewpoint expressed by the BritishAdmiralty and Admiral Sims.”109 Benson’s visit toEurope may have been one of the most importantdevelopments of the House mission because hisunderstanding and assistance was required for theU.S. forces in Europe gain the full support of theDepartment of the Navy. The real clearing up ofmisunderstandings came about with the establishmentof the Supreme Allied War Council in late November.The Council consisted of the heads of government andsecondary representatives from Britain, France, Italy,and the United States.110 This move went a long waytoward clearing up the disconnection between manypolitical leaders and the militaries that served them.More importantly, however, was the creation of theAllied Naval Council which required all naval staffs toreport their general policies. The Allied Naval Councilhelped to get all the Allies on the same page in termsof naval operations and facilitated the extension of theconvoy system which would eventually defeat thesubmarine campaign. The Allied Naval Council wasofficially announced on December 14, 1917, and Simswas appointed as the U.S. representative on January8, 1918.111 The House Mission which culminated in the

108 Ibid., 175. 109 Ibid. 110 Ibid., 176. 111 Ibid., 180.


creation of the Allied Naval Council was really the laststep taken into full cooperation. With the creation ofthe Allied Naval Council, all naval staffs begancoordinating policies and moved to a common strategyof anti-submarine convoys that would stave off defeatand ensure victory in the coming year.

Conclusion

The full cooperation and coordination thatcharacterized Anglo-American operations in anti-submarine warfare at the beginning of 1918 was notimmediately established with the entrance of theUnited States into World War I, but was developed overtime. The high level of cooperation was primarily theresult of diplomatic relations, severe Allied shippinglosses, and the lack of viable strategic alternatives tothe convoy system. Diplomatic movements had helpedto facilitate the cooperation as early as 1913, whenWalter Hines Page became the U.S. ambassador toBritain. Page helped the British government steerthrough the dangers of the blockade of Germany andAmerican neutrality. After the U.S. entered the war,Page continued to support the British and AdmiralSims in their campaign to convince the U.S. NavyDepartment of the need for a fully functional convoysystem. Admiral Sims’ arrival in April, 1917, and hisdiplomatic efforts with the Admiralty and theQueenstown anti-submarine forces, created a closeworking relationship between the British andAmerican anti-submarine forces. This relationshipallowed the two to call for the adoption of the convoysystem. Cooperation was finally completed inSeptember and November of 1917 when the Mayo and

144




House missions established both military and, to acertain degree, political cohesion in the whole Alliednaval war effort. The resulting Supreme Allied WarCouncil and Allied Naval Council garnered Anglo-American cooperation in anti-submarine warfare thefull support it required from Washington. The loss ofmillions of tons of shipping between February andDecember, 1917, pushed the commanders in Europeto demand cooperation in the face of losing the war.Finally, the lack of immediately viable strategiesbesides the convoy system, which was revealed duringthe Mayo mission of September, 1917, enabled navalleaders to focus on the essential maintenance of theAllies’ lines of communication to the United States andthe rest of the world. Anglo-American cooperation inanti-submarine warfare in World War I, which wasunprecedented at the European operations level fromearly on, took almost nine months of diplomacy, severeshipping losses, and the exhaustion of most non-convoy related strategies to become the clearlyessential naval policy. In the end, once Anglo-American strategies were set, they maintained the vitalcommunications lines around the western approachesof Ireland and assured eventual victory for the Allies.

Sean Naumes graduated from Santa ClaraUniversity in the spring of 2013 with a Bachelors of Artsin History and a Bachelors of Science in Commerce inEconomics. He is also a Leavey Scholar and member ofPhi Alpha Theta and Eta Sigma Phi. This essay is acondensed version of his senior thesis, which wasawarded the Mehl Prize for best senior thesis of 2013 inthe History Department. He has been interested innaval history for quite some time and this analysis


developed out of research conducted on the Britishblockade of Germany during World War I for his HIST101 paper.

145




House missions established both military and, to acertain degree, political cohesion in the whole Alliednaval war effort. The resulting Supreme Allied WarCouncil and Allied Naval Council garnered Anglo-American cooperation in anti-submarine warfare thefull support it required from Washington. The loss ofmillions of tons of shipping between February andDecember, 1917, pushed the commanders in Europeto demand cooperation in the face of losing the war.Finally, the lack of immediately viable strategiesbesides the convoy system, which was revealed duringthe Mayo mission of September, 1917, enabled navalleaders to focus on the essential maintenance of theAllies’ lines of communication to the United States andthe rest of the world. Anglo-American cooperation inanti-submarine warfare in World War I, which wasunprecedented at the European operations level fromearly on, took almost nine months of diplomacy, severeshipping losses, and the exhaustion of most non-convoy related strategies to become the clearlyessential naval policy. In the end, once Anglo-American strategies were set, they maintained the vitalcommunications lines around the western approachesof Ireland and assured eventual victory for the Allies.

Sean Naumes graduated from Santa ClaraUniversity in the spring of 2013 with a Bachelors of Artsin History and a Bachelors of Science in Commerce inEconomics. He is also a Leavey Scholar and member ofPhi Alpha Theta and Eta Sigma Phi. This essay is acondensed version of his senior thesis, which wasawarded the Mehl Prize for best senior thesis of 2013 inthe History Department. He has been interested innaval history for quite some time and this analysis


developed out of research conducted on the Britishblockade of Germany during World War I for his HIST101 paper.

146



Facial Disfigurement 139

Facial Disfigurement in Post WorldWar I Britain: Representation, Politicsand Masculinity, 1918-1922

Jacob Benjamin Newton

Throughout World War I, thousands of Britishsoldiers suffered facial disfigurement and amputation. Advanced weapons like the machine gun, mustard gas,and high-explosive artillery shells, combined with theoutdated battle tactics of trench warfare to produce anunprecedented number of severe, disfiguring injuries. At the same time, doctors had begun to grasp the basictenets behind germ theory1 and battlefield infectioncontrol.2 Wounds that would have been fatal in aprevious era were now survivable. With a rise insurvival rates came a corresponding rise in thenumber of severely disabled and disfigured. Over60,000 men were injured in the face or eyes, whileanother 41,000 underwent amputation of one or morelimbs.3 In addition, the pioneering efforts of plasticsurgeons, including Dr. Harold Gillies and the facial

1 Katherine Feo, “Invisibility: Memory, Masks andMasculinities in the Great War”, Journal of Design History, 20(2007): 19,http://jdh.oxfordjournals.org/content/20/1/17.short (accessedJanuary 6, 2013). 2 Nick Bosanquet, “Health Systems in Khaki: The British andAmerican Medical Experience,” in Facing Armageddon: The FirstWorld War experience, eds H. Cecil and P.H. Liddle, (London: LeoCooper, 1996), 451. 3 Joanna Bourke, 1996, Dismembering the Male: Men’sBodies, Britain and the Great War (London: Reaktion, 1996), 33.


prosthetic sculptor Francis Derwent Wood, attemptedto address the aesthetic and psychological recovery ofdisfigured veterans after the war.4 This paperdiscusses the divergent reactions that the disfiguredand amputees faced from the British public upon theirreturn home to England.

Facially wounded men faced an overwhelmingstigmatization by British society, and found theirmangled faces unwanted in the public eye.5 Amputees,by contrast, were revered and honored in the publicsphere. Their absence of limbs stood as a symbol oftheir service to country. They had access to vocationaltraining schemes and seemed to face a much easierpath to reintegration than the facially wounded in theinter-war era. However, amputees faced profoundbarriers when Britain attempted to suppress publicmemory of the war. In this context, missing limbsproved a stark reminder of national trauma to a war-weary population. Amputees who were acknowledgedand venerated as heroes during the war instead facedmounting stigma in their search for workplace andsocietal acceptance in the post-war years; they weresubject to a cultural emasculation, as women kept ortook their previously held jobs, and were pushed awayto live among the lower classes of society.6

4 Feo, 25. 5 Suzannah Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement in FirstWorld War Britain,” Social History of Medicine, 24 (2011): 670,http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3223959/ (accessed January 6, 2013). 6 Seth Koven, “Remembering and Dismemberment: CrippledChildren, Wounded Soldiers, and the Great War in GreatBritain,” The American Historical Review, 99 (October 1994):1201,

147




Facial Disfigurement in Post WorldWar I Britain: Representation, Politicsand Masculinity, 1918-1922

Jacob Benjamin Newton

Throughout World War I, thousands of Britishsoldiers suffered facial disfigurement and amputation. Advanced weapons like the machine gun, mustard gas,and high-explosive artillery shells, combined with theoutdated battle tactics of trench warfare to produce anunprecedented number of severe, disfiguring injuries. At the same time, doctors had begun to grasp the basictenets behind germ theory1 and battlefield infectioncontrol.2 Wounds that would have been fatal in aprevious era were now survivable. With a rise insurvival rates came a corresponding rise in thenumber of severely disabled and disfigured. Over60,000 men were injured in the face or eyes, whileanother 41,000 underwent amputation of one or morelimbs.3 In addition, the pioneering efforts of plasticsurgeons, including Dr. Harold Gillies and the facial

1 Katherine Feo, “Invisibility: Memory, Masks andMasculinities in the Great War”, Journal of Design History, 20(2007): 19,http://jdh.oxfordjournals.org/content/20/1/17.short (accessedJanuary 6, 2013). 2 Nick Bosanquet, “Health Systems in Khaki: The British andAmerican Medical Experience,” in Facing Armageddon: The FirstWorld War experience, eds H. Cecil and P.H. Liddle, (London: LeoCooper, 1996), 451. 3 Joanna Bourke, 1996, Dismembering the Male: Men’sBodies, Britain and the Great War (London: Reaktion, 1996), 33.


prosthetic sculptor Francis Derwent Wood, attemptedto address the aesthetic and psychological recovery ofdisfigured veterans after the war.4 This paperdiscusses the divergent reactions that the disfiguredand amputees faced from the British public upon theirreturn home to England.

Facially wounded men faced an overwhelmingstigmatization by British society, and found theirmangled faces unwanted in the public eye.5 Amputees,by contrast, were revered and honored in the publicsphere. Their absence of limbs stood as a symbol oftheir service to country. They had access to vocationaltraining schemes and seemed to face a much easierpath to reintegration than the facially wounded in theinter-war era. However, amputees faced profoundbarriers when Britain attempted to suppress publicmemory of the war. In this context, missing limbsproved a stark reminder of national trauma to a war-weary population. Amputees who were acknowledgedand venerated as heroes during the war instead facedmounting stigma in their search for workplace andsocietal acceptance in the post-war years; they weresubject to a cultural emasculation, as women kept ortook their previously held jobs, and were pushed awayto live among the lower classes of society.6

4 Feo, 25. 5 Suzannah Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement in FirstWorld War Britain,” Social History of Medicine, 24 (2011): 670,http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3223959/ (accessed January 6, 2013). 6 Seth Koven, “Remembering and Dismemberment: CrippledChildren, Wounded Soldiers, and the Great War in GreatBritain,” The American Historical Review, 99 (October 1994):1201,

148




While much is known about the fate of amputees inthe 1920s and 1930s, there has been no historicalresearch on the outcomes of the facially disfigured.Research has been hindered by the loss of archivalmaterial from the rehabilitative hospitals, onlyrecovered in the 1980’s, when follow up interviewswould have been impossible.7 In the absence of directevidence, my research has aimed to examine thestructural and social barriers to reintegration facingthe facially disfigured. The British public was visuallyand socially aversive to disfigured veterans,representing an “improvised response to a crisis ofrepresentation.”8 I argue that the disfigured faced ableak postwar environment, far harsher than that ofamputees, bereft of any vocational, psychological, orpublic support.

To support this, I will examine the extent andpermanence of their injuries, the ineffectiveness ofearly-twentieth-century tin facial prosthetics, theemotional effects of their injuries, and the total erasureof the disfigured from media portrayals of the war-wounded. Comparing this to the negative outcomes foramputees, who despite seemingly excellent prospectsfor reintegration in 1918, ended up stigmatized andrelegated to the social margin, I argue that the faciallydisfigured would have been even more ostracized tothe fringes of British society.

This study draws on the historical debatesurrounding amputated and facially injured British

http://www.jstor.org/stable/2168773 (accessed February 10,2013). 7 Dr. Andrew Bamji, Personal Correspondence, 25 February2013. 8 Biernoff, 670.


soldiers returning to civilian life in England. Woundedmen returning from the front were at odds with theprescribed Victorian ideals of masculinity and honorand confronted with challenges to their masculinity bytheir fellow Brits. Joanna Bourke has produced well-researched works on the social effects of injuredBritish soldiers, specifically the attack on theirmasculinity and manhood at home. Her book,Dismembering the Male, examines the experiences andreactions to war-battered young soldiers by thepublic.9

Bourke posits that amputees’ visible status of theirservice to country initially rendered them heroes. Theabsence of their limbs “came to exert a special patrioticpower.”10 In this sense, their injuries, although stillreminders of the terrors of war, branded them asacceptable, honorable men who fulfilled their duty tothe nation. Amputees received vocational training forreentering the industrial and private sectors, while thedisfigured received training in menial jobs like toymaking.11 This occurred in the context of the definingof masculinity in Great Britain before, during, andafter the war.

The Victorian ideals of female domesticity andpatriarchal bread-winning had been prevalent inEngland into the early twentieth century, as ageneration of men and women were educated through

9 Bourke. 10 Ibid. 11 Sandy Callister, “Broken Gargoyles: The PhotographicRepresentation of Severely Wounded New Zealand Soldiers”,Social History of Medicine 20, (March 2007): 95. http://english.siu.edu/Resources/HaroldGilles.pdf (accessedFebruary 10, 2013).

149




While much is known about the fate of amputees inthe 1920s and 1930s, there has been no historicalresearch on the outcomes of the facially disfigured.Research has been hindered by the loss of archivalmaterial from the rehabilitative hospitals, onlyrecovered in the 1980’s, when follow up interviewswould have been impossible.7 In the absence of directevidence, my research has aimed to examine thestructural and social barriers to reintegration facingthe facially disfigured. The British public was visuallyand socially aversive to disfigured veterans,representing an “improvised response to a crisis ofrepresentation.”8 I argue that the disfigured faced ableak postwar environment, far harsher than that ofamputees, bereft of any vocational, psychological, orpublic support.

To support this, I will examine the extent andpermanence of their injuries, the ineffectiveness ofearly-twentieth-century tin facial prosthetics, theemotional effects of their injuries, and the total erasureof the disfigured from media portrayals of the war-wounded. Comparing this to the negative outcomes foramputees, who despite seemingly excellent prospectsfor reintegration in 1918, ended up stigmatized andrelegated to the social margin, I argue that the faciallydisfigured would have been even more ostracized tothe fringes of British society.

This study draws on the historical debatesurrounding amputated and facially injured British

http://www.jstor.org/stable/2168773 (accessed February 10,2013). 7 Dr. Andrew Bamji, Personal Correspondence, 25 February2013. 8 Biernoff, 670.


soldiers returning to civilian life in England. Woundedmen returning from the front were at odds with theprescribed Victorian ideals of masculinity and honorand confronted with challenges to their masculinity bytheir fellow Brits. Joanna Bourke has produced well-researched works on the social effects of injuredBritish soldiers, specifically the attack on theirmasculinity and manhood at home. Her book,Dismembering the Male, examines the experiences andreactions to war-battered young soldiers by thepublic.9

Bourke posits that amputees’ visible status of theirservice to country initially rendered them heroes. Theabsence of their limbs “came to exert a special patrioticpower.”10 In this sense, their injuries, although stillreminders of the terrors of war, branded them asacceptable, honorable men who fulfilled their duty tothe nation. Amputees received vocational training forreentering the industrial and private sectors, while thedisfigured received training in menial jobs like toymaking.11 This occurred in the context of the definingof masculinity in Great Britain before, during, andafter the war.

The Victorian ideals of female domesticity andpatriarchal bread-winning had been prevalent inEngland into the early twentieth century, as ageneration of men and women were educated through

9 Bourke. 10 Ibid. 11 Sandy Callister, “Broken Gargoyles: The PhotographicRepresentation of Severely Wounded New Zealand Soldiers”,Social History of Medicine 20, (March 2007): 95. http://english.siu.edu/Resources/HaroldGilles.pdf (accessedFebruary 10, 2013).

150




rigid frameworks of feminine and masculine life. Women’s work consisted of caring for children and thehome, while men took on the responsibilities ofworking for wages and providing for his family. Britainhad been an imperialist nation for decades, and withthat a generation of boys were groomed to be patrioticand militaristic. The public schools that manyattended did not necessarily believe the schools’strengths lay in academic subjects. Instead, “theyspecialized in … manliness, or making men out ofboys…”12 The boys were to be independent, hardworking, and capable of standing up for themselves. This idea continued into the war years, as Britishpropaganda presented “Tommy Atkins,” the idealBritish soldier to the public. As Nicoletta Gullacepoints out, “Within the wartime vocabulary of genderdefinitions, men were those who protected; womenthose who required protection.”13 Upon return home,many soldiers faced scrutiny for their inability touphold this male ideal: “Only a khaki uniform or amissing limb could protect a young man on the homefront from the ignominious brand of ‘coward’ and theshrill taunts of strangers, friends, families, andtexts.”14 An amputee’s “absence would be morepowerful than presence,” Bourke asserts.15 Whileamputees were to be re-made into men, given custom

12 John Tosh, Manliness and Masculinities in Nineteenth-Century Britain: Essays On Gender, Family, and Empire (NewYork: Longman, 2005), 197. 13 Nicoletta Gullace, The Blood of Our Sons: Men, Women,and the Renegotiation of British Citizenship During the Great War,(New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002): 43. 14 Ibid., 38. 15 Bourke, 59.


prosthetic limbs and chances at returning to theirroles as the head of the household, the faciallywounded were unable to regain this identity, for theyfaced a society unwilling to accept their visualpresence in the social sphere.

Susannah Biernoff takes this foundation andbuilds upon Bourke’s work in her analysis of Britishvisual anxiety and avoidance of disfigured soldiers inthe public discourse. Her goal is to answer thequestion of why facial disfigurement was not visuallyrepresented within the public sphere except in themedical establishment in Britain. Contrasting thefacially wounded to amputees and the press coveragethat came with them, she argues that the worst lossone could endure was the loss of the face, for alongwith it went a person’s sense of self and masculinity.16

Often isolated from their families and friends, thedisfigured were subject to what Biernoff suggests is asocial “anxiety that was specifically visual.”17 Surgerywas their main option, and upon healing, many werestill shocking to look at, at which point they went toFrancis Derwent Wood for a tin prosthetic mask fitting.Biernoff notes, however, that the usefulness of thesemasks was overestimated in press reports.18.

Katherine Feo also examines the success ofprosthetic tin masks like the ones made by Wood.19

She claims the tin prosthetics were incapable ofworking to limit the visibility of war violence in thecivilian community.”20 The inherent function of masks

16 Biernoff, 666. 17 Ibid., 668. 18 Ibid., 679. 19 Feo, 17. 20 Ibid., 25.

151




rigid frameworks of feminine and masculine life. Women’s work consisted of caring for children and thehome, while men took on the responsibilities ofworking for wages and providing for his family. Britainhad been an imperialist nation for decades, and withthat a generation of boys were groomed to be patrioticand militaristic. The public schools that manyattended did not necessarily believe the schools’strengths lay in academic subjects. Instead, “theyspecialized in … manliness, or making men out ofboys…”12 The boys were to be independent, hardworking, and capable of standing up for themselves. This idea continued into the war years, as Britishpropaganda presented “Tommy Atkins,” the idealBritish soldier to the public. As Nicoletta Gullacepoints out, “Within the wartime vocabulary of genderdefinitions, men were those who protected; womenthose who required protection.”13 Upon return home,many soldiers faced scrutiny for their inability touphold this male ideal: “Only a khaki uniform or amissing limb could protect a young man on the homefront from the ignominious brand of ‘coward’ and theshrill taunts of strangers, friends, families, andtexts.”14 An amputee’s “absence would be morepowerful than presence,” Bourke asserts.15 Whileamputees were to be re-made into men, given custom

12 John Tosh, Manliness and Masculinities in Nineteenth-Century Britain: Essays On Gender, Family, and Empire (NewYork: Longman, 2005), 197. 13 Nicoletta Gullace, The Blood of Our Sons: Men, Women,and the Renegotiation of British Citizenship During the Great War,(New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002): 43. 14 Ibid., 38. 15 Bourke, 59.


prosthetic limbs and chances at returning to theirroles as the head of the household, the faciallywounded were unable to regain this identity, for theyfaced a society unwilling to accept their visualpresence in the social sphere.

Susannah Biernoff takes this foundation andbuilds upon Bourke’s work in her analysis of Britishvisual anxiety and avoidance of disfigured soldiers inthe public discourse. Her goal is to answer thequestion of why facial disfigurement was not visuallyrepresented within the public sphere except in themedical establishment in Britain. Contrasting thefacially wounded to amputees and the press coveragethat came with them, she argues that the worst lossone could endure was the loss of the face, for alongwith it went a person’s sense of self and masculinity.16

Often isolated from their families and friends, thedisfigured were subject to what Biernoff suggests is asocial “anxiety that was specifically visual.”17 Surgerywas their main option, and upon healing, many werestill shocking to look at, at which point they went toFrancis Derwent Wood for a tin prosthetic mask fitting.Biernoff notes, however, that the usefulness of thesemasks was overestimated in press reports.18.

Katherine Feo also examines the success ofprosthetic tin masks like the ones made by Wood.19

She claims the tin prosthetics were incapable ofworking to limit the visibility of war violence in thecivilian community.”20 The inherent function of masks

16 Biernoff, 666. 17 Ibid., 668. 18 Ibid., 679. 19 Feo, 17. 20 Ibid., 25.

152




is to hide, and therefore, she concludes, that insteadof helping to restore the veteran’s identity and sense ofself, the masks lack human emotion and remind theviewer of the horrors of war. These masks simplycould not restore a pre-war life to the post-warperiod.21

This study also utilizes research covering thehistory of plastic and aesthetic surgery. In particular,Sander Gilman’s Making the Body Beautiful offersinsight into the effects and consequences of aestheticsurgery.22 For Gilman, aesthetic surgery was soappealing because it allowed people to ‘pass’; theycould blend in and be seen as a member of a groupthey wished to identify with. His investigation intowar-ravaged faces highlights the loss of masculinity aswell as sexual attraction. In addition, beauty culturehad been steadily growing in Britain since the end ofthe nineteenth century, and an emphasis onappearance gripped the British populace.23 With moresocial importance given to vanity, the disfiguredsuffered the wrong injury at the wrong time, as moreunkempt appearances drew the ire of Britons.

This study will highlight the often temporarypositive effects of plastic surgery and prosthetic tinmasks for the facially wounded, examining in detailtheir limited usability. Furthermore, it will explore thepost-war outcomes for amputees, as they offer inessence a precursor of the stigma and difficulties that

21 Ibid., 25. 22 Sander Gilman, Making the Body Beautiful: A CulturalHistory of Aesthetic Surgery, (Princeton: Princeton UniversityPress, 1999). 23 Elizabeth Haiken, Venus Envy: A History of CosmeticSurgery (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1997): 25.


disfigured men were to face in England. My researchis based primarily on materials generated in the publicsphere, including newspapers and medical journals, toget a sense of public opinion during the intra- andpost-war years. In addition, first-hand letters andaccounts shed light on the experience of the faciallyinjured while under treatment.

The Disfigured

For the first time in the 20th century, significantnumbers of horribly wounded soldiers, whetherdealing with amputation or facial injury, survived inspite of their wounds. Those unlucky enough to sufferinjury to the face suffered through arguably the mostdifficult and psychologically damaging injury a mancould experience. Outdated tactics of war as well asadvanced weaponry, including artillery and machineguns, combined to produce devastation, leavingthousands of young men with unimaginable facialinjuries. Soft caps worn in the early years of the warprovided little to no protection of the head. In 1915the British military switched to steel helmets, yet theseposed the problem of dangerous metal shrapnel if asoldier were struck in the head.24 A soldier namedJohn Glubb recounted his experience of being hit by ashell: “I heard for a second a distant shell whine, thenfelt a tremendous explosion almost on top of me. Foran instant I appeared to rise slowly into the air andthen slowly fall again. … I began to run towards Hénin,when the floodgates in my neck seemed to burst, and

24 Ibid., 29.

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is to hide, and therefore, she concludes, that insteadof helping to restore the veteran’s identity and sense ofself, the masks lack human emotion and remind theviewer of the horrors of war. These masks simplycould not restore a pre-war life to the post-warperiod.21

This study also utilizes research covering thehistory of plastic and aesthetic surgery. In particular,Sander Gilman’s Making the Body Beautiful offersinsight into the effects and consequences of aestheticsurgery.22 For Gilman, aesthetic surgery was soappealing because it allowed people to ‘pass’; theycould blend in and be seen as a member of a groupthey wished to identify with. His investigation intowar-ravaged faces highlights the loss of masculinity aswell as sexual attraction. In addition, beauty culturehad been steadily growing in Britain since the end ofthe nineteenth century, and an emphasis onappearance gripped the British populace.23 With moresocial importance given to vanity, the disfiguredsuffered the wrong injury at the wrong time, as moreunkempt appearances drew the ire of Britons.

This study will highlight the often temporarypositive effects of plastic surgery and prosthetic tinmasks for the facially wounded, examining in detailtheir limited usability. Furthermore, it will explore thepost-war outcomes for amputees, as they offer inessence a precursor of the stigma and difficulties that

21 Ibid., 25. 22 Sander Gilman, Making the Body Beautiful: A CulturalHistory of Aesthetic Surgery, (Princeton: Princeton UniversityPress, 1999). 23 Elizabeth Haiken, Venus Envy: A History of CosmeticSurgery (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1997): 25.


disfigured men were to face in England. My researchis based primarily on materials generated in the publicsphere, including newspapers and medical journals, toget a sense of public opinion during the intra- andpost-war years. In addition, first-hand letters andaccounts shed light on the experience of the faciallyinjured while under treatment.

The Disfigured

For the first time in the 20th century, significantnumbers of horribly wounded soldiers, whetherdealing with amputation or facial injury, survived inspite of their wounds. Those unlucky enough to sufferinjury to the face suffered through arguably the mostdifficult and psychologically damaging injury a mancould experience. Outdated tactics of war as well asadvanced weaponry, including artillery and machineguns, combined to produce devastation, leavingthousands of young men with unimaginable facialinjuries. Soft caps worn in the early years of the warprovided little to no protection of the head. In 1915the British military switched to steel helmets, yet theseposed the problem of dangerous metal shrapnel if asoldier were struck in the head.24 A soldier namedJohn Glubb recounted his experience of being hit by ashell: “I heard for a second a distant shell whine, thenfelt a tremendous explosion almost on top of me. Foran instant I appeared to rise slowly into the air andthen slowly fall again. … I began to run towards Hénin,when the floodgates in my neck seemed to burst, and

24 Ibid., 29.

154




the blood poured out in torrents.”25 Like many soldiersfacing similar circumstances, Glubb was transportedback to England to await surgery and treatment for hisinjuries. Upon return home, however, disfiguredveterans like Glubb faced a populace at that pointincapable of accepting these “broken gargoyles” into asociety wishing to forget the atrocities of war, whiletheir amputee counterparts returned to fanfare andthe respect of the public.26

The first waves of facially wounded soldiersreturning home were sent to various ill-equippedhospitals scattered throughout England, where manyof them waited weeks and months for treatment. Dr.Harold Gillies, a New Zealander who volunteered withthe Red Cross, remedied the issue of decentralizedtreatment by persuading the Army Surgeon General toconcentrate facial treatment in one place, after whichpoint wards at the Cambridge Military Hospital inAldershot were obtained.27 By 1917, the Queen’sHospital at Frognal House was constructed in Sidcupas the premier plastic and reconstructive surgerycenter in England, with Gillies at the helm. Thehospital grew quickly to house the thousands of

25 John Glubb, Into Battle: A Soldier’s Diary of the Great War(Cassell: London, 1978): 185. 26 Ward Muir, The Happy Hospital (Simpkin: Kent, 1918):152.http://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=wu.89079715389;num=7;seq=7;view=1up (accessed February 10, 2013). 27 Andrew Bamji, “Sir Harold Gillies: Surgical Pioneer”,Trauma 8 (2006): 144,http://english.siu.edu/Resources/HaroldGilles.pdf (accessedFebruary 9, 2013).


disfigured veterans needing medical care, and by 1918over 1,000 beds were available.28 Queen’s Hospitalproved popular with the wounded, many of whomwaited for months in ill-suited hospitals to betransferred. Sergeant John Glubb recounted:

I lay for three months in my bed in Wandsworthduring which my wound remained septic, andreceived no medical attention. …No doctor everlooked at our wounds or removed the bandages. Presumably there were not enough doctors. Mymother used to visit me at Wandsworth.Through her I sent applications to all andsundry, for a transfer to another hospital. Atlast, in November 1917, three months after Ihad been hit, I was transferred to a newhospital for face injuries at Frognal, Sidcup,Kent. Here things were very different. Mybroken and septic teeth were extracted and mywound cleaned.29

At Sidcup, disfigured soldiers waited to receivesurgeries in the hope of restoring the original functionand appearance of their faces. As lead surgeon, Dr.Gillies pioneered numerous surgical techniques infacial reconstruction, revolutionizing the work ofreconstructive surgery. Working in what he deemed a“strange, new art”, Gillies required the precision of askilled surgeon with the attention to aesthetic detail of

28Andrew Bamji, “Facial Surgery: The patient’s experience”,in Facing Armageddon: The First World War experience, eds H.Cecil and P.H. Liddle, (London: Leo Cooper, 1996), 495. 29 Glubb, 193.

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the blood poured out in torrents.”25 Like many soldiersfacing similar circumstances, Glubb was transportedback to England to await surgery and treatment for hisinjuries. Upon return home, however, disfiguredveterans like Glubb faced a populace at that pointincapable of accepting these “broken gargoyles” into asociety wishing to forget the atrocities of war, whiletheir amputee counterparts returned to fanfare andthe respect of the public.26

The first waves of facially wounded soldiersreturning home were sent to various ill-equippedhospitals scattered throughout England, where manyof them waited weeks and months for treatment. Dr.Harold Gillies, a New Zealander who volunteered withthe Red Cross, remedied the issue of decentralizedtreatment by persuading the Army Surgeon General toconcentrate facial treatment in one place, after whichpoint wards at the Cambridge Military Hospital inAldershot were obtained.27 By 1917, the Queen’sHospital at Frognal House was constructed in Sidcupas the premier plastic and reconstructive surgerycenter in England, with Gillies at the helm. Thehospital grew quickly to house the thousands of

25 John Glubb, Into Battle: A Soldier’s Diary of the Great War(Cassell: London, 1978): 185. 26 Ward Muir, The Happy Hospital (Simpkin: Kent, 1918):152.http://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=wu.89079715389;num=7;seq=7;view=1up (accessed February 10, 2013). 27 Andrew Bamji, “Sir Harold Gillies: Surgical Pioneer”,Trauma 8 (2006): 144,http://english.siu.edu/Resources/HaroldGilles.pdf (accessedFebruary 9, 2013).


disfigured veterans needing medical care, and by 1918over 1,000 beds were available.28 Queen’s Hospitalproved popular with the wounded, many of whomwaited for months in ill-suited hospitals to betransferred. Sergeant John Glubb recounted:

I lay for three months in my bed in Wandsworthduring which my wound remained septic, andreceived no medical attention. …No doctor everlooked at our wounds or removed the bandages. Presumably there were not enough doctors. Mymother used to visit me at Wandsworth.Through her I sent applications to all andsundry, for a transfer to another hospital. Atlast, in November 1917, three months after Ihad been hit, I was transferred to a newhospital for face injuries at Frognal, Sidcup,Kent. Here things were very different. Mybroken and septic teeth were extracted and mywound cleaned.29

At Sidcup, disfigured soldiers waited to receivesurgeries in the hope of restoring the original functionand appearance of their faces. As lead surgeon, Dr.Gillies pioneered numerous surgical techniques infacial reconstruction, revolutionizing the work ofreconstructive surgery. Working in what he deemed a“strange, new art”, Gillies required the precision of askilled surgeon with the attention to aesthetic detail of

28Andrew Bamji, “Facial Surgery: The patient’s experience”,in Facing Armageddon: The First World War experience, eds H.Cecil and P.H. Liddle, (London: Leo Cooper, 1996), 495. 29 Glubb, 193.

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an artist. He and his team developed various newtechniques in 1917, like the tube pedicle, whichallowed for the grafting of skin from one part of thebody to another by keeping blood circulating at thereattached area.30 In addition, he created thetemporalis transfer, arterial flaps, and a variation of anepithelial inlay for the reconstruction of eyelids.31 Gillies was a meticulous surgeon, notable for takinghis time, and said “never do today what canhonourably be put off till tomorrow.”32 He made surea man’s wounds were completely healed beforecontinuing to the next stage of treatment. Thisprocess often lasted months, even years, due to thenumbers of surgeries required in extreme cases. Healso befriended his patients, even keeping somephotographs as mementos.33 At Queen’s Hospital,Gillies and his team wrote extensive case notes foreach patient, including photographs and drawings. Hecommissioned Henry Tonks, a doctor turned medicalartist, to draw before and after images of his patients,as well as make diagrams of the surgical proceduresthemselves.34

Within the rehabilitative framework of Queen’sHospital, soldiers had to come to terms with their newappearance, undergo numerous surgeries and hope tocope with their mutilated faces. At Sidcup, mirrors

30 Feo, 19. 31 Bamji, Sir Harold Gillies: Surgical Pioneer, 144. 32 Bamji, Facial Surgery: The patient’s experience, 498. 33 Bamji, Sir Harold Gillies: Surgical Pioneer, 145. 34 Suzannah Biernoff, “Flesh Poems: Henry Tonks and theArt of Surgery,” Visual Culture in Britain 11 (February 2010): 27.http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3158130/ (accessed January 11, 2013).


were not allowed in any rooms, arguably in an attemptto spare the men any more emotional trauma.35 In TheHappy Hospital, considered the best contemporarypiece detailing a visit by a commoner to a facial woundward, Ward Muir recounts an unnerving encounterwith a patient in the halls: “When the wound washealed, however, and the patient was going about withhis wrecked face uncovered, I was … sensible of theembarrassment to which allusion had made. I feared,when talking to him, to meet his eye. I feared thatinadvertently I might let the poor victim perceive whatI perceived: namely, that he was hideous.”36 There aretwo notable conclusions that can be drawn from thiswork. The descriptive language of the wounded,namely that he is ‘hideous’ and like a ‘gargoyle’, isrepresentative of the negative sentiment Britons heldtowards these men. Muir’s word choice suggests alack of identity and humanity within this soldier, as ifthe exposure of his wounds serves to dehumanize him.

Depression was common amongst disfiguredsoldiers, as would be expected given the importance ofone’s face and appearance to their identity and self.37 Dr. Gillies himself commented “only the blind kepttheir spirits up through thick and thin.”38 CatherineBlack, a nurse who worked with Gillies at CambridgeHospital, wrote: “Hardest of all was the task of tryingto rekindle the desire to live in men condemned to lieweek after week smothered in bandages, unable to

35 Bamji, Facial Surgery: The patient’s experience, 497. 36 Muir, 143. 37 Reginald Pound, Gillies: Surgeon Extraordinary: ABiography, (M. Joseph: London, 1964): 35. 38 Pound, 35.

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an artist. He and his team developed various newtechniques in 1917, like the tube pedicle, whichallowed for the grafting of skin from one part of thebody to another by keeping blood circulating at thereattached area.30 In addition, he created thetemporalis transfer, arterial flaps, and a variation of anepithelial inlay for the reconstruction of eyelids.31 Gillies was a meticulous surgeon, notable for takinghis time, and said “never do today what canhonourably be put off till tomorrow.”32 He made surea man’s wounds were completely healed beforecontinuing to the next stage of treatment. Thisprocess often lasted months, even years, due to thenumbers of surgeries required in extreme cases. Healso befriended his patients, even keeping somephotographs as mementos.33 At Queen’s Hospital,Gillies and his team wrote extensive case notes foreach patient, including photographs and drawings. Hecommissioned Henry Tonks, a doctor turned medicalartist, to draw before and after images of his patients,as well as make diagrams of the surgical proceduresthemselves.34

Within the rehabilitative framework of Queen’sHospital, soldiers had to come to terms with their newappearance, undergo numerous surgeries and hope tocope with their mutilated faces. At Sidcup, mirrors

30 Feo, 19. 31 Bamji, Sir Harold Gillies: Surgical Pioneer, 144. 32 Bamji, Facial Surgery: The patient’s experience, 498. 33 Bamji, Sir Harold Gillies: Surgical Pioneer, 145. 34 Suzannah Biernoff, “Flesh Poems: Henry Tonks and theArt of Surgery,” Visual Culture in Britain 11 (February 2010): 27.http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3158130/ (accessed January 11, 2013).


were not allowed in any rooms, arguably in an attemptto spare the men any more emotional trauma.35 In TheHappy Hospital, considered the best contemporarypiece detailing a visit by a commoner to a facial woundward, Ward Muir recounts an unnerving encounterwith a patient in the halls: “When the wound washealed, however, and the patient was going about withhis wrecked face uncovered, I was … sensible of theembarrassment to which allusion had made. I feared,when talking to him, to meet his eye. I feared thatinadvertently I might let the poor victim perceive whatI perceived: namely, that he was hideous.”36 There aretwo notable conclusions that can be drawn from thiswork. The descriptive language of the wounded,namely that he is ‘hideous’ and like a ‘gargoyle’, isrepresentative of the negative sentiment Britons heldtowards these men. Muir’s word choice suggests alack of identity and humanity within this soldier, as ifthe exposure of his wounds serves to dehumanize him.

Depression was common amongst disfiguredsoldiers, as would be expected given the importance ofone’s face and appearance to their identity and self.37 Dr. Gillies himself commented “only the blind kepttheir spirits up through thick and thin.”38 CatherineBlack, a nurse who worked with Gillies at CambridgeHospital, wrote: “Hardest of all was the task of tryingto rekindle the desire to live in men condemned to lieweek after week smothered in bandages, unable to

35 Bamji, Facial Surgery: The patient’s experience, 497. 36 Muir, 143. 37 Reginald Pound, Gillies: Surgeon Extraordinary: ABiography, (M. Joseph: London, 1964): 35. 38 Pound, 35.

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talk, unable to taste, unable even to sleep, and all thewhile knowing themselves to be appallinglydisfigured.”39 These men were not only saddened andhorrified by their own appearance, but they carriedwith them a consciousness of how others were affectedby the sight of their faces. Horace Sewell, a Brigadier-General during the war, recounted one suchexperience: “The people of that place requested thematron to keep us indoors, as it gave them ‘theshivers’ to see us out walking. The Prince of Wales wasnot immune. He emerged from a tour of the wardsreserved for the worst cases ‘looking white andshaken.’”40 Interactions of this sort can only be viewedas detrimental to the well-being of those rejected bytheir fellow Britons, and highlight the immensesignificance of the face within Western cultures, asacknowledged by Ward Muir: “I had not known beforehow usual and necessary a thing it is … to gazestraight at anybody to whom one is speaking, and togaze with no embarrassment.”41 Facial expressionsand body language are quite useful in obtaining asense for a person’s emotional state. One can imaginethat routinely witnessing one’s visitors shy away frommaking eye contact, even showing disgust at the sightof oneself would not be emotionally uplifting. TheDaily Mail featured an article in 1918 describing a visitby a young woman to see Sergeant Bates, a soldierwounded in 1916:

‘He told you of his wound.’

39 Bamji, Facial Surgery: The patient’s experience, 497. 40 Callister, 99. 41 Muir, 143.


‘He said he was hit by shrapnel, ma’am, but notbad.’Matron motioned her to sit down, and then,with an infinite pity in her face … told the littlewoman before her in a few words what SergeantBates in his agony of mind could not write.‘So you see, Mrs. Bates,’ she ended gently ‘youmust be brave when you see him, because–hedreads this meeting – for your sake. …Sister came into the small ward ratherhurriedly and, drawing the screen round theSergeant’s bed, told him very gently that hiswife was waiting to see him.‘Sister,’ the man turned abruptly, as he gropedfor the kindly hand she held out ‘I’m a bloomin’coward, that’s what I am.”42

Disfigured soldiers awaiting or undergoingtreatment had a truly difficult task in coping andadjusting to their new appearance. Like SergeantBates, many men expressed feelings of guilt aboutinteracting uncovered with people. The unsupportivereactions by the general public strengthened in manythe feelings of shame felt for having subjected normalpeople to such a gruesome, shocking sight as theirdestroyed faces. Ward Muir’s reaction is indicative ofthe typical public reaction: “Could any woman comenear that gargoyle without repugnance? His children… Why, a child would run screaming from such asight. To be fled from by children! That must be aheavy cross for some souls to bear.”43

42 Daily Mail, in Bamji, Experience, 498. 43 Muir, 145.

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talk, unable to taste, unable even to sleep, and all thewhile knowing themselves to be appallinglydisfigured.”39 These men were not only saddened andhorrified by their own appearance, but they carriedwith them a consciousness of how others were affectedby the sight of their faces. Horace Sewell, a Brigadier-General during the war, recounted one suchexperience: “The people of that place requested thematron to keep us indoors, as it gave them ‘theshivers’ to see us out walking. The Prince of Wales wasnot immune. He emerged from a tour of the wardsreserved for the worst cases ‘looking white andshaken.’”40 Interactions of this sort can only be viewedas detrimental to the well-being of those rejected bytheir fellow Britons, and highlight the immensesignificance of the face within Western cultures, asacknowledged by Ward Muir: “I had not known beforehow usual and necessary a thing it is … to gazestraight at anybody to whom one is speaking, and togaze with no embarrassment.”41 Facial expressionsand body language are quite useful in obtaining asense for a person’s emotional state. One can imaginethat routinely witnessing one’s visitors shy away frommaking eye contact, even showing disgust at the sightof oneself would not be emotionally uplifting. TheDaily Mail featured an article in 1918 describing a visitby a young woman to see Sergeant Bates, a soldierwounded in 1916:

‘He told you of his wound.’

39 Bamji, Facial Surgery: The patient’s experience, 497. 40 Callister, 99. 41 Muir, 143.


‘He said he was hit by shrapnel, ma’am, but notbad.’Matron motioned her to sit down, and then,with an infinite pity in her face … told the littlewoman before her in a few words what SergeantBates in his agony of mind could not write.‘So you see, Mrs. Bates,’ she ended gently ‘youmust be brave when you see him, because–hedreads this meeting – for your sake. …Sister came into the small ward ratherhurriedly and, drawing the screen round theSergeant’s bed, told him very gently that hiswife was waiting to see him.‘Sister,’ the man turned abruptly, as he gropedfor the kindly hand she held out ‘I’m a bloomin’coward, that’s what I am.”42

Disfigured soldiers awaiting or undergoingtreatment had a truly difficult task in coping andadjusting to their new appearance. Like SergeantBates, many men expressed feelings of guilt aboutinteracting uncovered with people. The unsupportivereactions by the general public strengthened in manythe feelings of shame felt for having subjected normalpeople to such a gruesome, shocking sight as theirdestroyed faces. Ward Muir’s reaction is indicative ofthe typical public reaction: “Could any woman comenear that gargoyle without repugnance? His children… Why, a child would run screaming from such asight. To be fled from by children! That must be aheavy cross for some souls to bear.”43

42 Daily Mail, in Bamji, Experience, 498. 43 Muir, 145.

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Visual Aversion

British society found accepting these men who hadfulfilled their duty to their nation difficult because theypresented a visual reminder of war undesired by awar-torn populace. As a result, outside the confines ofthe medical establishment the visual presence of thefacially wounded was suppressed and limited. AtSidcup the wounded were able to recuperate by takingwalks in the local parks. Some of the benches in thepark were painted blue, as a “code that warnedtownspeople that any man sitting on one would bedistressful to view.”44 The public was given warning tospare themselves any grief from a possible glance at aghastly, broken face. This culture of aversion waspervasive throughout England, and the treatment ofthe disfigured by the press underscores thissentiment.

Contemporary representations of the disfigured inthe public sphere, through pamphlets, newspapersand journals, rarely featured photographs, for “nomore horrible result of war could be represented in thepublic sphere than the mutilation of the face.”45 Ifpublic reports and pamphlets did run photographs,they focused on visits to Queen’s Hospital by Britishroyalty, or only showed the soldiers with their woundscovered in bandages.46 When art was substituted forphotographs, like the British Red Cross Society’s “Helpthe Wounded” poster, the images depicted the

44 Caroline Alexander, “Faces of War,”Smithsonian, http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/mask.html (accessed February 10, 2013). 45 Gilman, 159. 46 Callister, 95.


masculine ideal of Tommie Atkins, bandaged yetunwounded in the face. Most public reports on thedisfigured were extremely propagandistic and fancifulin nature, often in the quest for charity or to quell thepublic’s fears.47 A December, 1919 edition of TheTimes ran a text-only piece about the rehabilitativework being done at Sidcup that indicates themanipulation of news for public consumption:

The Queen, Princess Mary, and Princess HelenaVictoria paid a visit on Sunday to ChelseaHouse, Cadogan-place, and inspected there anexhibition of children’s toys and beadwork andwoodwork articles made by the soldier patientsof the Queen’s Hospital, Frognal, Sidcup … Themakers of the toys … were nearly all men whohad suffered facial disfigurement throughwounds, and in some extreme cases, wheresufferers had become depressed to the point ofcontemplating, and even attempting, suicide,the work had brought a powerful counteractinginterest.48

Other articles made announcements aboutadvances in medicine and the opening of new hospitalsto treat facial wounds. In the Liverpool Echo, aninformational piece covering a new facial hospital inLiverpool discussed disfigured veterans as if fixingtheir injuries was an easy, simple process: “Many ofthe wounded soldiers brought back to this countryhave crooked faces, and numbers of then are now

47 Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement”, 677. 48 “Soldier Craftsmen”, The Times, 9 December 1919.

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Visual Aversion

British society found accepting these men who hadfulfilled their duty to their nation difficult because theypresented a visual reminder of war undesired by awar-torn populace. As a result, outside the confines ofthe medical establishment the visual presence of thefacially wounded was suppressed and limited. AtSidcup the wounded were able to recuperate by takingwalks in the local parks. Some of the benches in thepark were painted blue, as a “code that warnedtownspeople that any man sitting on one would bedistressful to view.”44 The public was given warning tospare themselves any grief from a possible glance at aghastly, broken face. This culture of aversion waspervasive throughout England, and the treatment ofthe disfigured by the press underscores thissentiment.

Contemporary representations of the disfigured inthe public sphere, through pamphlets, newspapersand journals, rarely featured photographs, for “nomore horrible result of war could be represented in thepublic sphere than the mutilation of the face.”45 Ifpublic reports and pamphlets did run photographs,they focused on visits to Queen’s Hospital by Britishroyalty, or only showed the soldiers with their woundscovered in bandages.46 When art was substituted forphotographs, like the British Red Cross Society’s “Helpthe Wounded” poster, the images depicted the

44 Caroline Alexander, “Faces of War,”Smithsonian, http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/mask.html (accessed February 10, 2013). 45 Gilman, 159. 46 Callister, 95.


masculine ideal of Tommie Atkins, bandaged yetunwounded in the face. Most public reports on thedisfigured were extremely propagandistic and fancifulin nature, often in the quest for charity or to quell thepublic’s fears.47 A December, 1919 edition of TheTimes ran a text-only piece about the rehabilitativework being done at Sidcup that indicates themanipulation of news for public consumption:

The Queen, Princess Mary, and Princess HelenaVictoria paid a visit on Sunday to ChelseaHouse, Cadogan-place, and inspected there anexhibition of children’s toys and beadwork andwoodwork articles made by the soldier patientsof the Queen’s Hospital, Frognal, Sidcup … Themakers of the toys … were nearly all men whohad suffered facial disfigurement throughwounds, and in some extreme cases, wheresufferers had become depressed to the point ofcontemplating, and even attempting, suicide,the work had brought a powerful counteractinginterest.48

Other articles made announcements aboutadvances in medicine and the opening of new hospitalsto treat facial wounds. In the Liverpool Echo, aninformational piece covering a new facial hospital inLiverpool discussed disfigured veterans as if fixingtheir injuries was an easy, simple process: “Many ofthe wounded soldiers brought back to this countryhave crooked faces, and numbers of then are now

47 Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement”, 677. 48 “Soldier Craftsmen”, The Times, 9 December 1919.

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coming to Liverpool to have them straightened.”49

Describing their faces as “crooked” and needing to be“straightened”, the author’s simplification andsoftening of the language surrounding facial injury isrepresentative of British desire to reduce negative andalarming exposure to the destructive nature of wartimeinjuries. At the same time, some of the woundedreceiving treatment at Sidcup expressed positivefeelings about their circumstances – an unexpectedreaction that appears at odds with the societalaversion they were met with in person and within thepress.

Many of the facially wounded recuperated atQueen’s Hospital for long periods of time, necessitatedby the number of surgeries and healing time requiredto properly treat their injuries. With much time ontheir hands, the men were urged to participate inactivities to lift their moods as well as provide themtraining for their eventual re-entry into the world.50 Some activities, expressed in the press, included clockrepairing, operating cinemas, hair-dressing anddentistry, as well as toy-making.51

Literacy instruction was another available option,and in 1922 a Lady Gough assigned soldiers anassignment to write on their experiences from the war. Titled “My Personal Experiences and Reminiscences ofthe Great War”, these essays describe the young men’senlistment, deployment and their experience during

49 “What Surgeons and Dentists are doing for Tommies inLiverpool,” Liverpool Echo, 18 July 1916. 50 Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement”, 670. 51 Bexley Health Observer, November 1921, in Biernoff, TheRhetoric of Disfigurement, 670.


the war.52 They explain the feelings of being woundedin battle and their course of treatment, which in allcases led to Queen’s Hospital. Interestingly, most ofthe soldiers expressed pride for having done their dutyand served the nation. Private Best, injured at Ypres,wrote, “I cannot say I am sorry I joined the army, as ithas broadened by outlook on life.”53 An unnamedsoldier reminiscing on his military service wrote ofhaving similar feelings. “When I look back and thinkthings over which has happened during my service Ifeel proud, I also feel proud to think that I waswounded fighting in such a famous regiment as ‘TheBlack Watch.’”54

While under the care of hardworking nurses anddoctors in a rehabilitation hospital, it seems to havebeen easier for these soldiers to feel positively abouttheir service, almost as if they were unaware of howthe world outside the hospital felt about them. PrivateWordsworth described his immense appreciation andthankfulness for the work of the staff caring for him, “Iwould now pay homage to the Nursing Staff of thathospital who so carefully nursed me back to health ina preparation ward.”55 Another soldier also discussedthe nursing staff, who although “…very much

52 Liddle Collection, University of Leeds. The essays arecataloged as Wounds, Item 34:6 and titled “Narratives by BadlyWounded Soldiers, ‘My Personal Experiences and Reminiscencesof the Great War’, Collected by Lady Gough at Sidcup Hospital,1922. Written for an education class.” 53 Private Best, 1922. “My Personal Experiences andReminiscences of the Great War”, Liddle Collection, University ofLeeds, item 34:6. 54 Essay #1 by an unnamed soldier injured at the Battle ofCambrai, 1918. 55 Essay by Private Wordsworth.

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coming to Liverpool to have them straightened.”49

Describing their faces as “crooked” and needing to be“straightened”, the author’s simplification andsoftening of the language surrounding facial injury isrepresentative of British desire to reduce negative andalarming exposure to the destructive nature of wartimeinjuries. At the same time, some of the woundedreceiving treatment at Sidcup expressed positivefeelings about their circumstances – an unexpectedreaction that appears at odds with the societalaversion they were met with in person and within thepress.

Many of the facially wounded recuperated atQueen’s Hospital for long periods of time, necessitatedby the number of surgeries and healing time requiredto properly treat their injuries. With much time ontheir hands, the men were urged to participate inactivities to lift their moods as well as provide themtraining for their eventual re-entry into the world.50 Some activities, expressed in the press, included clockrepairing, operating cinemas, hair-dressing anddentistry, as well as toy-making.51

Literacy instruction was another available option,and in 1922 a Lady Gough assigned soldiers anassignment to write on their experiences from the war. Titled “My Personal Experiences and Reminiscences ofthe Great War”, these essays describe the young men’senlistment, deployment and their experience during

49 “What Surgeons and Dentists are doing for Tommies inLiverpool,” Liverpool Echo, 18 July 1916. 50 Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement”, 670. 51 Bexley Health Observer, November 1921, in Biernoff, TheRhetoric of Disfigurement, 670.


the war.52 They explain the feelings of being woundedin battle and their course of treatment, which in allcases led to Queen’s Hospital. Interestingly, most ofthe soldiers expressed pride for having done their dutyand served the nation. Private Best, injured at Ypres,wrote, “I cannot say I am sorry I joined the army, as ithas broadened by outlook on life.”53 An unnamedsoldier reminiscing on his military service wrote ofhaving similar feelings. “When I look back and thinkthings over which has happened during my service Ifeel proud, I also feel proud to think that I waswounded fighting in such a famous regiment as ‘TheBlack Watch.’”54

While under the care of hardworking nurses anddoctors in a rehabilitation hospital, it seems to havebeen easier for these soldiers to feel positively abouttheir service, almost as if they were unaware of howthe world outside the hospital felt about them. PrivateWordsworth described his immense appreciation andthankfulness for the work of the staff caring for him, “Iwould now pay homage to the Nursing Staff of thathospital who so carefully nursed me back to health ina preparation ward.”55 Another soldier also discussedthe nursing staff, who although “…very much

52 Liddle Collection, University of Leeds. The essays arecataloged as Wounds, Item 34:6 and titled “Narratives by BadlyWounded Soldiers, ‘My Personal Experiences and Reminiscencesof the Great War’, Collected by Lady Gough at Sidcup Hospital,1922. Written for an education class.” 53 Private Best, 1922. “My Personal Experiences andReminiscences of the Great War”, Liddle Collection, University ofLeeds, item 34:6. 54 Essay #1 by an unnamed soldier injured at the Battle ofCambrai, 1918. 55 Essay by Private Wordsworth.

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overworked were always cheerful, and did their utmostto make the patients comfortable.”56 In theirconcluding sentences, most of the men summarizedtheir experience until that point as an overall positiveexperience, and some conveyed a desire to gainacceptance in society. For example, Private Murraywrote, “I like my country, and if I can be allowed toearn a respectful living in it shall never have anythingto say against it.”57 Private Best even went so far as tosay “So, after all, I lost little, and gained much,through the Great War.”58 These responses exhibit aspecific consciousness on the part of their authors thatcan arguably exist only in the context of theirrehabilitative program. Influenced by the actions andgood treatment of their caregivers, these men wereoptimistic about the future and happy with theirservice. In this light, the men’s remarks represent insome ways an attempt to justify and accept theirwounds as a minor blemish on an otherwise honorablelife. In effect, their time in the hospital was their timeof most happiness. Recuperation and rehabilitationwithin the hospital boosted their spirits, leaving manyfeeling “indebted to them [nurses and doctors] asmuch as anything else for the peace we now enjoy.” 59

It is exactly these feelings within the rehabilitativeframework that provide a false sense of the outcomesfor disfigured men returning to civilian life. Yet inexamining the post-war experiences and popular

56 Essay #4 by an unnamed soldier injured during theSomme Offensive, 1918. 57 Essay by Private Murray. 58 Essay by Private Best. 59 Essay #4 by unnamed soldier injured during the SommeOffensive, 1918.


reactions to amputees, for whom successfulreintegration was expected to occur in the yearsimmediately following their injuries, the plausibility ofnegative life outcomes for the disfigured is reinforced.

Amputees

British soldiers injured in their extremitiesresulting in loss of limb experienced a different kind ofreaction upon return home to England. Unlike thefacially wounded, whose faces were hidden from publicview, returning amputees were received honorably,their absence of limb a visual mark of their service tothe nation. These men represented the cream of thecrop of British youth, having risked their lives for theircountry.60 The Ministry of Pensions was created inresponse to demands that “…the wartime mutilatedwere regarded as the responsibility of the nation.”61 Interestingly, the Ministry’s allocated funds for thewounded were based not so much on the degree towhich their injuries reduced their physical capabilities,but “on the degree to which [they] incapacitated a manfrom ‘being’ a man, rather than ‘acting’ as one”.62 Apensions leaflet from 1920 showed that those whowere extremely disfigured received a full pension, anamount received only by those who lost an eye and alimb, two limbs, or were fully paralyzed.63 Thesepension categorizations were justified as compensatinga “loss of amenity” over a “loss of working capacity,”

60 Bourke, 45. 61 Bourke, 49. 62 Ibid., 33. 63 Feo, 20.

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overworked were always cheerful, and did their utmostto make the patients comfortable.”56 In theirconcluding sentences, most of the men summarizedtheir experience until that point as an overall positiveexperience, and some conveyed a desire to gainacceptance in society. For example, Private Murraywrote, “I like my country, and if I can be allowed toearn a respectful living in it shall never have anythingto say against it.”57 Private Best even went so far as tosay “So, after all, I lost little, and gained much,through the Great War.”58 These responses exhibit aspecific consciousness on the part of their authors thatcan arguably exist only in the context of theirrehabilitative program. Influenced by the actions andgood treatment of their caregivers, these men wereoptimistic about the future and happy with theirservice. In this light, the men’s remarks represent insome ways an attempt to justify and accept theirwounds as a minor blemish on an otherwise honorablelife. In effect, their time in the hospital was their timeof most happiness. Recuperation and rehabilitationwithin the hospital boosted their spirits, leaving manyfeeling “indebted to them [nurses and doctors] asmuch as anything else for the peace we now enjoy.” 59

It is exactly these feelings within the rehabilitativeframework that provide a false sense of the outcomesfor disfigured men returning to civilian life. Yet inexamining the post-war experiences and popular

56 Essay #4 by an unnamed soldier injured during theSomme Offensive, 1918. 57 Essay by Private Murray. 58 Essay by Private Best. 59 Essay #4 by unnamed soldier injured during the SommeOffensive, 1918.


reactions to amputees, for whom successfulreintegration was expected to occur in the yearsimmediately following their injuries, the plausibility ofnegative life outcomes for the disfigured is reinforced.

Amputees

British soldiers injured in their extremitiesresulting in loss of limb experienced a different kind ofreaction upon return home to England. Unlike thefacially wounded, whose faces were hidden from publicview, returning amputees were received honorably,their absence of limb a visual mark of their service tothe nation. These men represented the cream of thecrop of British youth, having risked their lives for theircountry.60 The Ministry of Pensions was created inresponse to demands that “…the wartime mutilatedwere regarded as the responsibility of the nation.”61 Interestingly, the Ministry’s allocated funds for thewounded were based not so much on the degree towhich their injuries reduced their physical capabilities,but “on the degree to which [they] incapacitated a manfrom ‘being’ a man, rather than ‘acting’ as one”.62 Apensions leaflet from 1920 showed that those whowere extremely disfigured received a full pension, anamount received only by those who lost an eye and alimb, two limbs, or were fully paralyzed.63 Thesepension categorizations were justified as compensatinga “loss of amenity” over a “loss of working capacity,”

60 Bourke, 45. 61 Bourke, 49. 62 Ibid., 33. 63 Feo, 20.

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adds Katherine Feo.64 In other words, pensions weregiven out based on how much a person’s quality of life,and even manhood was impacted, or reduced. As theevidence points out, facially disfiguring injuries werejustifiably considered a worse affliction than losing anarm. A married man who lost a leg would have facedmuch better odds at retaining his marriage, or meetinga woman and starting a family in comparison to a manmissing parts of his face.

Loss of limb no doubt must have been painful anddifficult to accept, but amputees were, as a group notas emotionally traumatized as the disfigured. Theiridentity and humanity were still intact; it was simplytheir body that was broken. An article in the Pall MallGazette juxtaposes the emotional state of thedisfigured to those of amputees at Queen MaryAuxiliary Hospital in Roehampton. ““There is none ofthat depression [at Roehampton] which, however welldiverted, attends in a more or less degree [sic] the fearof permanent facial disfigurement.”65 Concurrentlyamputees received positive and supportive presscoverage in the immediate years of the war, yet thissentiment was short-lived, as amputees were relegatedto the bottom rung of society along with beggars andthieves.

British amputees as a whole received a largelypositive reception in the public sphere during the war. Many articles commented on the rehabilitativeprogress made by amputees, including their fittings forprosthetics and training for new jobs.66 In addition,

64 Ibid., 20. 65 Pall Mall Gazette, undated, In Biernoff, 674. 66 Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement”, 674.


stories about amputees usually included pictures.There was little concealment as was the case for thedisfigured. News clippings discussed amputeestraining to become engineers, carpenters, andchauffeurs, among other vocations.67 Propaganda fromthe Ministry of Pensions argued that curativeworkshops would train disabled veterans withadvanced skills for a modernizing world.68 At the sametime, prosthetics were highly visible in the press. News clippings carried showed amputees being fittedwith new arms and legs, among others.

Due to the numbers of amputees, the demand forprosthetic legs and arms increased, and advances inmaterials and design dramatically improved theirfunctionality.69 Prosthetic arms and legs allowed thesebroken men to become whole again, remade througha linkage of man and machine. “Physical agility andmanliness were re-inscribed into the prostheticallyremade body.”70 In this sense, defining “masculinity asmobility,” amputees were able to reestablish physicalproficiency through prosthetics.71 The facialprosthetics received by the disfigured, though, failed intheir attempt to restore wholeness and reinstatemasculinity.

67 Evening News and Lloyds Weekly News, September 1916,in Biernoff, The Rhetoric of Disfigurement 674. 68 Koven, 1191. 69 Ibid., 1195. 70 Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement”, 674. 71 Erin O'Conner, “Fractions of Men: EngenderingAmputation in Victorian Culture,” Comparative Studies inSociety and History 39, no. 4 (1997): 763,http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.2307/179368 (accessedJanuary 7, 2013).

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adds Katherine Feo.64 In other words, pensions weregiven out based on how much a person’s quality of life,and even manhood was impacted, or reduced. As theevidence points out, facially disfiguring injuries werejustifiably considered a worse affliction than losing anarm. A married man who lost a leg would have facedmuch better odds at retaining his marriage, or meetinga woman and starting a family in comparison to a manmissing parts of his face.

Loss of limb no doubt must have been painful anddifficult to accept, but amputees were, as a group notas emotionally traumatized as the disfigured. Theiridentity and humanity were still intact; it was simplytheir body that was broken. An article in the Pall MallGazette juxtaposes the emotional state of thedisfigured to those of amputees at Queen MaryAuxiliary Hospital in Roehampton. ““There is none ofthat depression [at Roehampton] which, however welldiverted, attends in a more or less degree [sic] the fearof permanent facial disfigurement.”65 Concurrentlyamputees received positive and supportive presscoverage in the immediate years of the war, yet thissentiment was short-lived, as amputees were relegatedto the bottom rung of society along with beggars andthieves.

British amputees as a whole received a largelypositive reception in the public sphere during the war. Many articles commented on the rehabilitativeprogress made by amputees, including their fittings forprosthetics and training for new jobs.66 In addition,

64 Ibid., 20. 65 Pall Mall Gazette, undated, In Biernoff, 674. 66 Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement”, 674.


stories about amputees usually included pictures.There was little concealment as was the case for thedisfigured. News clippings discussed amputeestraining to become engineers, carpenters, andchauffeurs, among other vocations.67 Propaganda fromthe Ministry of Pensions argued that curativeworkshops would train disabled veterans withadvanced skills for a modernizing world.68 At the sametime, prosthetics were highly visible in the press. News clippings carried showed amputees being fittedwith new arms and legs, among others.

Due to the numbers of amputees, the demand forprosthetic legs and arms increased, and advances inmaterials and design dramatically improved theirfunctionality.69 Prosthetic arms and legs allowed thesebroken men to become whole again, remade througha linkage of man and machine. “Physical agility andmanliness were re-inscribed into the prostheticallyremade body.”70 In this sense, defining “masculinity asmobility,” amputees were able to reestablish physicalproficiency through prosthetics.71 The facialprosthetics received by the disfigured, though, failed intheir attempt to restore wholeness and reinstatemasculinity.

67 Evening News and Lloyds Weekly News, September 1916,in Biernoff, The Rhetoric of Disfigurement 674. 68 Koven, 1191. 69 Ibid., 1195. 70 Biernoff, “The Rhetoric of Disfigurement”, 674. 71 Erin O'Conner, “Fractions of Men: EngenderingAmputation in Victorian Culture,” Comparative Studies inSociety and History 39, no. 4 (1997): 763,http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.2307/179368 (accessedJanuary 7, 2013).

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Many soldiers suffered facial wounds that wereirreparable by plastic surgery at the time. As Feostates, it “seemed that as people tried to heal fromemotional wounds, resentment grew against men whoembodied war memories in their disfigurements.”72 Thus, those left with gaping holes or missing jaws weresent to “the Tin Noses Shop” to be fitted with aprosthetic tin mask by Francis Derwent Wood and histeam.73 The masks were made from tin, constructedafter taking a mold of the part of the face to becovered.74 If covering an empty eye socket, forexample, the mask was constructed around a pair ofglasses that, while worn, held the mask in place. Amoustache made from thinly cut, painted metal stripsinstead of real hair could cover a wounded mouth. Foreyes, Wood insisted that they be painted on, matchingthe soldier’s other eye, or in the case of a blinded man,a picture to produce the desired effect. These masks,although intended to cover-up and restore, lackedanimation, making them inadequate as a form of socialrehabilitation, as their lack of animate realismreminded the viewer of what was missing, instead ofcovering it up.75 The masks were subject to wear andfading of the paint, and since faces change over theyears, these masks would have only been useful for ashort period of time, at best. While they certainlyallowed the disfigured some ability to walk the streetsunnoticed, the inherent flaws in their construction and

72 Feo, 24. 73 Alexander. 74 Ibid. 75 Feo, 23.


conceptualization rendered them useless in the longterm.

Conclusion

Although there is no information available aboutthe outcomes for the facially disfigured after leavingthe hospital, much research has been done looking atamputees after the war. The possibilities for amputeesafter the armistice seemed endless, but amputees’hopes for the future were short-lived. “The warconstructed two competing categories of disabledpersons: “peace” and “war” cripples,” argues SethKoven.76 These men now had to fight for jobs next tothe lowest classes of society because Britons could notre-conceptualize their attitudes towards the war after1918, which represented a public desire to repress thememories of the war. Women were also an impedimentto receiving employment, as they fulfilled many malejobs during a drought of masculine, physically wholeworkers. Amputees felt angry and disheartened,waiting in line for unemployment benefits andinsurance next to those who were receiving the same,yet who hadn’t been to war or sacrificed his life for hisnation.77 This sentiment is expressed in Reveille, anorthopedic journal edited by playwright and novelistJohn Galsworthy after the war.78 Galsworthy changedthe name of the journal originally called Recalled toLife, to “awaken the nation to its obligations to the war

76 Koven, 1200. 77 Ibid., 1201. 78 Ibid., 1167.

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Many soldiers suffered facial wounds that wereirreparable by plastic surgery at the time. As Feostates, it “seemed that as people tried to heal fromemotional wounds, resentment grew against men whoembodied war memories in their disfigurements.”72 Thus, those left with gaping holes or missing jaws weresent to “the Tin Noses Shop” to be fitted with aprosthetic tin mask by Francis Derwent Wood and histeam.73 The masks were made from tin, constructedafter taking a mold of the part of the face to becovered.74 If covering an empty eye socket, forexample, the mask was constructed around a pair ofglasses that, while worn, held the mask in place. Amoustache made from thinly cut, painted metal stripsinstead of real hair could cover a wounded mouth. Foreyes, Wood insisted that they be painted on, matchingthe soldier’s other eye, or in the case of a blinded man,a picture to produce the desired effect. These masks,although intended to cover-up and restore, lackedanimation, making them inadequate as a form of socialrehabilitation, as their lack of animate realismreminded the viewer of what was missing, instead ofcovering it up.75 The masks were subject to wear andfading of the paint, and since faces change over theyears, these masks would have only been useful for ashort period of time, at best. While they certainlyallowed the disfigured some ability to walk the streetsunnoticed, the inherent flaws in their construction and

72 Feo, 24. 73 Alexander. 74 Ibid. 75 Feo, 23.


conceptualization rendered them useless in the longterm.

Conclusion

Although there is no information available aboutthe outcomes for the facially disfigured after leavingthe hospital, much research has been done looking atamputees after the war. The possibilities for amputeesafter the armistice seemed endless, but amputees’hopes for the future were short-lived. “The warconstructed two competing categories of disabledpersons: “peace” and “war” cripples,” argues SethKoven.76 These men now had to fight for jobs next tothe lowest classes of society because Britons could notre-conceptualize their attitudes towards the war after1918, which represented a public desire to repress thememories of the war. Women were also an impedimentto receiving employment, as they fulfilled many malejobs during a drought of masculine, physically wholeworkers. Amputees felt angry and disheartened,waiting in line for unemployment benefits andinsurance next to those who were receiving the same,yet who hadn’t been to war or sacrificed his life for hisnation.77 This sentiment is expressed in Reveille, anorthopedic journal edited by playwright and novelistJohn Galsworthy after the war.78 Galsworthy changedthe name of the journal originally called Recalled toLife, to “awaken the nation to its obligations to the war

76 Koven, 1200. 77 Ibid., 1201. 78 Ibid., 1167.

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wounded.”79 Articles discuss issues facing the warwounded and emphasize a consciousness that societyshould be doing more, but simply is not. In a piececalled “Converting Public Attitude Toward the DisabledMan”, the author posits “…the attitude of the publichas become a greater handicap to the cripple than hisphysical disability. People have assumed him to behelpless, and have, only too often, persuaded him tobecome so.”80 Feelings like these perpetuate theunaccepting nature of Britons toward the war-wounded.

World War I brought physical destruction anddevastation unseen in any other war before it. Advanced weapons combined with outmoded tactics oftrench warfare produced tens of thousands disfiguringand dismembering injuries to the face and body.Coinciding advances in plastic surgery allowed moremen to survive these injuries than ever before, yet theBritish populace found itself struggling to contemplatethe honor of veterans’ physical signs of service with thephysical reminders of tragic memories. To conclude,this paper has been an examination of the structuraland social barriers to reintegration facing disfiguredsoldiers in the years after The Great War. Withoutrecords for the disfigured in the post-war years, we willsimply never know how the lives of these men turnedout. Yet by looking at the emotional and physicaleffects of their injuries both in rehabilitative hospitals

79 Ibid., 1167. 80 Douglas McMurtie, “Converting Public Attitude To TheDisabled Man,” in Reveille, ed. John Galsworthy (London: HisMajesty's Stationary Office, 1918), 1: 444,http://archive.org/details/1a3reveille00galsuoft (accessedFebruary 6, 2013).


and the outside world, the failure of facial prosthetics,and the outcomes for veteran amputees, this researchgives credence to the plausibility of negative lifeoutcomes for the disfigured.

Jacob Benjamin Newton is a senior History major.

171




wounded.”79 Articles discuss issues facing the warwounded and emphasize a consciousness that societyshould be doing more, but simply is not. In a piececalled “Converting Public Attitude Toward the DisabledMan”, the author posits “…the attitude of the publichas become a greater handicap to the cripple than hisphysical disability. People have assumed him to behelpless, and have, only too often, persuaded him tobecome so.”80 Feelings like these perpetuate theunaccepting nature of Britons toward the war-wounded.

World War I brought physical destruction anddevastation unseen in any other war before it. Advanced weapons combined with outmoded tactics oftrench warfare produced tens of thousands disfiguringand dismembering injuries to the face and body.Coinciding advances in plastic surgery allowed moremen to survive these injuries than ever before, yet theBritish populace found itself struggling to contemplatethe honor of veterans’ physical signs of service with thephysical reminders of tragic memories. To conclude,this paper has been an examination of the structuraland social barriers to reintegration facing disfiguredsoldiers in the years after The Great War. Withoutrecords for the disfigured in the post-war years, we willsimply never know how the lives of these men turnedout. Yet by looking at the emotional and physicaleffects of their injuries both in rehabilitative hospitals

79 Ibid., 1167. 80 Douglas McMurtie, “Converting Public Attitude To TheDisabled Man,” in Reveille, ed. John Galsworthy (London: HisMajesty's Stationary Office, 1918), 1: 444,http://archive.org/details/1a3reveille00galsuoft (accessedFebruary 6, 2013).


and the outside world, the failure of facial prosthetics,and the outcomes for veteran amputees, this researchgives credence to the plausibility of negative lifeoutcomes for the disfigured.

Jacob Benjamin Newton is a senior History major.

172



A Hyphenated Campaign 165

A Hyphenated Campaign: Prejudice andIdentity in the Experiences of ItalianAmericans Serving in Italy during WorldWar II

Dominic Rios

Introduction

The Second World War was a momentous event ofthe twentieth century. While public memory recallsnoteworthy generals and battles, this recollection oftenlacks an analysis of the influence of racial and ethnicprejudice during the war.1 Especially in the UnitedStates, these factors greatly impacted the lives of manyethnic minorities. While the historical narrativefocused on race and World War II includes adiscussion of Japanese internment camps, curiouslythe experience of Italian Americans is often overlooked.With this in mind, this paper will examine the ways inwhich issues of ethnic prejudice and questions ofidentity factored into the Italian American experienceduring World War II.

Historiographical Background

The subject of race and the Second World War haselicited a significant amount of historical research.Although characterized by a variety of approaches, this

1Ronald Takaki, Double Victory: A Multicultural History ofAmerica in World War II (Boston: Little, Brown and Company,2000), 4.


focus primarily falls under the field of ethnic history.This ethnic approach characterizes the work of the lateRonald Takaki—an esteemed historian who specializedin the interplay of race and the Second World War. Inhis work Double Victory: A Multicultural History ofAmerica in World War II, Takaki utilizes amultidisciplinary and multi-ethnic approach to theissue of race and the Second World War—exploring thesocial and cultural impact of race for particular ethnicgroups in each chapter. While Takaki discusses avariety of minority groups, he focuses heavily on theexperiences of Japanese Americans. For theseAmericans, there was no escaping connections toJapanese ancestry—for even naturalized Japanese whoattempted to fully integrate into American societyfound themselves in the grim reality of internment.2

Moreover, racial tension provided one of, if not themost, influential factors behind the decision to dropthe atomic bomb. Indeed, in Hiroshima: Why AmericaDropped the Atomic Bomb, Takaki argues thatPresident Truman’s decision to bomb Hiroshima wasultimately motivated by racial prejudice towards theJapanese, and a desire to avenge Pearl Harbor.3

Takaki similarly analyzes the experience of ItalianAmericans during the war. However, this analysisdiffers from that of Japanese Americans in both lengthand content. While Takaki poses that Italian Americancommunities experienced similar xenophobia andracial tensions in the years leading up to war, itunquestionably affected them differently. For example,

2 Ibid, 153-154. 3 Ronald Takaki, Hiroshima (Boston: Little, Brown andCompany, 1995), 99-100.

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A Hyphenated Campaign: Prejudice andIdentity in the Experiences of ItalianAmericans Serving in Italy during WorldWar II

Dominic Rios

Introduction

The Second World War was a momentous event ofthe twentieth century. While public memory recallsnoteworthy generals and battles, this recollection oftenlacks an analysis of the influence of racial and ethnicprejudice during the war.1 Especially in the UnitedStates, these factors greatly impacted the lives of manyethnic minorities. While the historical narrativefocused on race and World War II includes adiscussion of Japanese internment camps, curiouslythe experience of Italian Americans is often overlooked.With this in mind, this paper will examine the ways inwhich issues of ethnic prejudice and questions ofidentity factored into the Italian American experienceduring World War II.

Historiographical Background

The subject of race and the Second World War haselicited a significant amount of historical research.Although characterized by a variety of approaches, this

1Ronald Takaki, Double Victory: A Multicultural History ofAmerica in World War II (Boston: Little, Brown and Company,2000), 4.


focus primarily falls under the field of ethnic history.This ethnic approach characterizes the work of the lateRonald Takaki—an esteemed historian who specializedin the interplay of race and the Second World War. Inhis work Double Victory: A Multicultural History ofAmerica in World War II, Takaki utilizes amultidisciplinary and multi-ethnic approach to theissue of race and the Second World War—exploring thesocial and cultural impact of race for particular ethnicgroups in each chapter. While Takaki discusses avariety of minority groups, he focuses heavily on theexperiences of Japanese Americans. For theseAmericans, there was no escaping connections toJapanese ancestry—for even naturalized Japanese whoattempted to fully integrate into American societyfound themselves in the grim reality of internment.2

Moreover, racial tension provided one of, if not themost, influential factors behind the decision to dropthe atomic bomb. Indeed, in Hiroshima: Why AmericaDropped the Atomic Bomb, Takaki argues thatPresident Truman’s decision to bomb Hiroshima wasultimately motivated by racial prejudice towards theJapanese, and a desire to avenge Pearl Harbor.3

Takaki similarly analyzes the experience of ItalianAmericans during the war. However, this analysisdiffers from that of Japanese Americans in both lengthand content. While Takaki poses that Italian Americancommunities experienced similar xenophobia andracial tensions in the years leading up to war, itunquestionably affected them differently. For example,

2 Ibid, 153-154. 3 Ronald Takaki, Hiroshima (Boston: Little, Brown andCompany, 1995), 99-100.

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like Japanese Americans, Italian Americans facedracial slurs, violent stereotypes, and employmentdiscrimination.4 In addition, many civil restrictionswere placed on groups of Italian Americans followingItaly’s official declaration of war against the U.S. in1941. In response, the federal government enactedcurfews, displaced some families, and even labeledmany Italian immigrants as enemies of the state.5 Inhis brief analysis, however, Takaki makes it clear thatthe Italian American situation differed from that ofJapanese Americans in both scale and motive. Heshows that federal and state governments detained farfewer Italian nationals, and completely abandoned aproposed full-scale deportation of all Italians believedto be “enemy aliens”.6

For Takaki, American understandings of raceduring the period constituted the principle factor inthis difference of treatment. Takaki argues that thefact Italian Americans were considered white,protected them from the large scale harassment—astheir skin-color blended them into the Americanpopulation.7 Thus, while racist attitudes about ethnicminorities undoubtedly forced some into amarginalized position, Takaki poses that theexperience of Italian Americans varied greatly fromthat of other minority groups.

Other scholars agree with this understanding. Forhistorian Rose D. Scherini, a combination of race andpolitical ideology created a hostile domestic

4 Ibid, 132-133. 5 Ibid, 133. 6 Ibid, 134. 7 Takaki, Double Victory, 134-135.


environment for Italian Americans during the war.According to her analysis, the suspected fascistleanings within the Italian American communitycreated an initial wave of suspicion from the UnitedStates government.8 For Scherini, however, ethnicprejudice primarily fueled the anxiety towards ItalianAmericans. She contends that even those with noconnections to fascism were still targeted as potentialenemies of the state—a belief propagated by extremeracial stereotypes which characterized all ItalianAmericans as deviant, corrupt, and untrustworthy.9

Other historians speak of an extremely complextension between Italian and American identities.Stefano Luconi’s From Paesani to White Ethnics: TheItalian Experience in Philadelphia, emphasizes thistension. Luconi shows that the pre-warrepresentations of Italian Americans as potentialthreats to domestic security actually fostered astronger Italian identity in Italian Americans—anidentification that generally supported fascist politicalideology.10 Yet, this ethno-cultural identificationquickly shifted back to an American-oriented identityfollowing Italy’s declaration of war against the U.S. in1943—a fact made evident by the huge ItalianAmerican support found in war-bond drives, armed-services recruitment campaigns, and other forms of

8 Rose D. Scherini, “When Italian Americans Were ‘EnemyAliens,” in Enemies Within: Italian and Other Internees in Canadaand Abroad, eds. Franca Iacovetta, Roberto Perin, and AngeloPrincipe (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2000), 282. 9 Ibid, 280, 282, 287. 10 Stefano Luconi, From Paesani to White Ethics: The ItalianExperience in Philadelphia (Albany: State University of New YorkPress, 2001), 96-97.

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like Japanese Americans, Italian Americans facedracial slurs, violent stereotypes, and employmentdiscrimination.4 In addition, many civil restrictionswere placed on groups of Italian Americans followingItaly’s official declaration of war against the U.S. in1941. In response, the federal government enactedcurfews, displaced some families, and even labeledmany Italian immigrants as enemies of the state.5 Inhis brief analysis, however, Takaki makes it clear thatthe Italian American situation differed from that ofJapanese Americans in both scale and motive. Heshows that federal and state governments detained farfewer Italian nationals, and completely abandoned aproposed full-scale deportation of all Italians believedto be “enemy aliens”.6

For Takaki, American understandings of raceduring the period constituted the principle factor inthis difference of treatment. Takaki argues that thefact Italian Americans were considered white,protected them from the large scale harassment—astheir skin-color blended them into the Americanpopulation.7 Thus, while racist attitudes about ethnicminorities undoubtedly forced some into amarginalized position, Takaki poses that theexperience of Italian Americans varied greatly fromthat of other minority groups.

Other scholars agree with this understanding. Forhistorian Rose D. Scherini, a combination of race andpolitical ideology created a hostile domestic

4 Ibid, 132-133. 5 Ibid, 133. 6 Ibid, 134. 7 Takaki, Double Victory, 134-135.


environment for Italian Americans during the war.According to her analysis, the suspected fascistleanings within the Italian American communitycreated an initial wave of suspicion from the UnitedStates government.8 For Scherini, however, ethnicprejudice primarily fueled the anxiety towards ItalianAmericans. She contends that even those with noconnections to fascism were still targeted as potentialenemies of the state—a belief propagated by extremeracial stereotypes which characterized all ItalianAmericans as deviant, corrupt, and untrustworthy.9

Other historians speak of an extremely complextension between Italian and American identities.Stefano Luconi’s From Paesani to White Ethnics: TheItalian Experience in Philadelphia, emphasizes thistension. Luconi shows that the pre-warrepresentations of Italian Americans as potentialthreats to domestic security actually fostered astronger Italian identity in Italian Americans—anidentification that generally supported fascist politicalideology.10 Yet, this ethno-cultural identificationquickly shifted back to an American-oriented identityfollowing Italy’s declaration of war against the U.S. in1943—a fact made evident by the huge ItalianAmerican support found in war-bond drives, armed-services recruitment campaigns, and other forms of

8 Rose D. Scherini, “When Italian Americans Were ‘EnemyAliens,” in Enemies Within: Italian and Other Internees in Canadaand Abroad, eds. Franca Iacovetta, Roberto Perin, and AngeloPrincipe (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2000), 282. 9 Ibid, 280, 282, 287. 10 Stefano Luconi, From Paesani to White Ethics: The ItalianExperience in Philadelphia (Albany: State University of New YorkPress, 2001), 96-97.

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civil service.11 Thus, Italian American ethnic identitieswere in constant flux given shifting American attitudestowards Italians.

In The Unknown Internment: An Oral History of theRelocation of Italian Americans During World War II,historian Stephen Fox reiterates the conclusions ofthis complex ethnic identity. For Fox, the inner conflictbetween Italian and American identities stemmed froma variety of factors—the most important being, onceagain, a constant pull and push between Italian andAmerican allegiances.12 Unique to Fox’s work, however,is the analysis of how race factored into questions ofinternment and civil restrictions. Fox asserts thatmany government officials believed that the white skinof the Italian American actually made them moredangerous than their Japanese counterparts. IndeedFox shows that a significant portion of Americangovernmental officials concluded that because whiteAmericans and Italians shared similar physicalcharacteristics like skin color, it actually made theItalian American easier to blend in, and thus easier tocommit treasonous activities without suspicion.13

While the government eventually rejected this notion,Fox’s analysis nonetheless shows the complex role thatracial issues played in the domestic life of ItalianAmericans during the Second World War.

11 Ibid, 102. 12 Stephen Fox, The Unknown Internment: An Oral History ofthe Relocation of Italian Americans during World War II (Boston:G. K. Hall & Co., 1990), 7-9. 13 Ibid, 116-117.


Thematic Context: Problematizing “Race” and“Racial Identity” as Units of Analysis

Before continuing, it is important to present asemantic clarification—especially with regards to theuse of the terms “race” and “racial identity” as meansof describing a person’s ethnic/cultural backgroundand affiliation. Traditionally, the term “race” has beenused to identify certain groups of people—groups thatare distinguished by assumed differences in theirbiology and physiology.14 For Western European andwhite intellectuals who pioneered this terminology inthe mid nineteenth century, these differences wereassumed to deviate from an exclusively Anglo norm.With this in mind, many contemporary historians,including David Hollinger, argue that the terminologyof race is better used when describing the feelings ortreatment between two groups of people rather thandescribing any sense of ethnic origin—especially whenconsidering that the biological and social facets of theterm were clearly defined by a third-party for theulterior motive of unequal treatment.15

To solve these issues Hollinger offers a new methodof approach—a method he terms the “post-ethnicperspective”. Departing from the rigid universalisticapproach that places individuals in distinct categoriesbased on ethnic differences, Hollinger’s post-ethnicperspective highlights the fusion that many feelbetween differing groups—therefore focusing on aflexible collection of identities used by individuals in

14 David A. Hollinger, Postethnic America: BeyondMulticulturalism (New York: BasicBooks, 1995), 35. 15 Ibid, 39.

177




civil service.11 Thus, Italian American ethnic identitieswere in constant flux given shifting American attitudestowards Italians.

In The Unknown Internment: An Oral History of theRelocation of Italian Americans During World War II,historian Stephen Fox reiterates the conclusions ofthis complex ethnic identity. For Fox, the inner conflictbetween Italian and American identities stemmed froma variety of factors—the most important being, onceagain, a constant pull and push between Italian andAmerican allegiances.12 Unique to Fox’s work, however,is the analysis of how race factored into questions ofinternment and civil restrictions. Fox asserts thatmany government officials believed that the white skinof the Italian American actually made them moredangerous than their Japanese counterparts. IndeedFox shows that a significant portion of Americangovernmental officials concluded that because whiteAmericans and Italians shared similar physicalcharacteristics like skin color, it actually made theItalian American easier to blend in, and thus easier tocommit treasonous activities without suspicion.13

While the government eventually rejected this notion,Fox’s analysis nonetheless shows the complex role thatracial issues played in the domestic life of ItalianAmericans during the Second World War.

11 Ibid, 102. 12 Stephen Fox, The Unknown Internment: An Oral History ofthe Relocation of Italian Americans during World War II (Boston:G. K. Hall & Co., 1990), 7-9. 13 Ibid, 116-117.


Thematic Context: Problematizing “Race” and“Racial Identity” as Units of Analysis

Before continuing, it is important to present asemantic clarification—especially with regards to theuse of the terms “race” and “racial identity” as meansof describing a person’s ethnic/cultural backgroundand affiliation. Traditionally, the term “race” has beenused to identify certain groups of people—groups thatare distinguished by assumed differences in theirbiology and physiology.14 For Western European andwhite intellectuals who pioneered this terminology inthe mid nineteenth century, these differences wereassumed to deviate from an exclusively Anglo norm.With this in mind, many contemporary historians,including David Hollinger, argue that the terminologyof race is better used when describing the feelings ortreatment between two groups of people rather thandescribing any sense of ethnic origin—especially whenconsidering that the biological and social facets of theterm were clearly defined by a third-party for theulterior motive of unequal treatment.15

To solve these issues Hollinger offers a new methodof approach—a method he terms the “post-ethnicperspective”. Departing from the rigid universalisticapproach that places individuals in distinct categoriesbased on ethnic differences, Hollinger’s post-ethnicperspective highlights the fusion that many feelbetween differing groups—therefore focusing on aflexible collection of identities used by individuals in

14 David A. Hollinger, Postethnic America: BeyondMulticulturalism (New York: BasicBooks, 1995), 35. 15 Ibid, 39.

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forming their social and cultural position.16 In thisanalysis, Hollinger eliminates “race” as viable unit ofanalysis, and instead focuses on what he terms ethno-racial identities. For him, this term more accuratelydescribes the vague continuum that he posits between“racial” and “ethnic” categories, in which individualsare traditionally placed, and also renounces theprejudicial treatment of groups based on the non-existent characteristics of “race.”17 Furthermore, theterm more accurately emphasizes the amount ofliberty that individuals have in choosing which identityand/or identities to emphasize above others.18

It is clear then that Hollinger’s ethno-racial identitythesis offers a more appropriate analytical frameworkwhen looking at the Italian American experience in theSecond World War. Combined with Hollinger’s post-ethnic perspective, the ethno-racial identity bestdescribes the Italian American experience ashighlighted by Scherini, Luconi, and other historiansfocusing on these issues. With this in mind, ItalianAmerican identities as discussed in this paper will beexamined through this perspective.

Central Arguments of Thesis

While the historical research focusing on theimpact of race in the domestic life of Italian Americansduring World War II is both broad and insightful, anunderstanding of how this factor impacted theirexperience in the military is not as detailed. Therefore,

16 Ibid, 108-109, 106. 17 Ibid, 39. 18 Ibid.


this paper will analyze the relationship between racialand ethnic factors and Italian American militaryservice, and focus specifically on those soldiers whoserved in the Italian Campaign. Similar to the researchcarried out by Takaki and others, this paper willanalyze whether or not factors of race, culture, andidentity played any role in the motivation for militaryservice. This question becomes especially fascinatingwhen considering that, beginning in 1943, manyItalian Americans served in the Italian Campaign—afact that almost certainly furthered the shiftingidentities already experienced by Italian Americans. Inthe years before the war, ethnic prejudice dictated therepresentation of Italian Americans—prejudice thatevolved into suspicions of dual-allegiance with Italy’sexpanding role in World War II. In examining personalaccounts of Italian American soldiers, it is clear thatthis ethnic bias impacted the formation of theiridentities as Americans—a construction that impactedtheir involvement in the war. While strongly committedto an American identity and cause, those ItalianAmerican soldiers serving in Italy found that theirItalian background significantly influenced theirfeelings about Italy’s role in the war, their militaryresponsibilities, and their interactions with the Italianpeople.

Historical Context: Changing Attitudes towardsItalian Americans, 1850-World War II

In the years before World War II, Americanperceptions of Italian American immigrants andcommunities evolved considerably. In the early yearsof immigration that occurred in the latter half of the

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forming their social and cultural position.16 In thisanalysis, Hollinger eliminates “race” as viable unit ofanalysis, and instead focuses on what he terms ethno-racial identities. For him, this term more accuratelydescribes the vague continuum that he posits between“racial” and “ethnic” categories, in which individualsare traditionally placed, and also renounces theprejudicial treatment of groups based on the non-existent characteristics of “race.”17 Furthermore, theterm more accurately emphasizes the amount ofliberty that individuals have in choosing which identityand/or identities to emphasize above others.18

It is clear then that Hollinger’s ethno-racial identitythesis offers a more appropriate analytical frameworkwhen looking at the Italian American experience in theSecond World War. Combined with Hollinger’s post-ethnic perspective, the ethno-racial identity bestdescribes the Italian American experience ashighlighted by Scherini, Luconi, and other historiansfocusing on these issues. With this in mind, ItalianAmerican identities as discussed in this paper will beexamined through this perspective.

Central Arguments of Thesis

While the historical research focusing on theimpact of race in the domestic life of Italian Americansduring World War II is both broad and insightful, anunderstanding of how this factor impacted theirexperience in the military is not as detailed. Therefore,

16 Ibid, 108-109, 106. 17 Ibid, 39. 18 Ibid.


this paper will analyze the relationship between racialand ethnic factors and Italian American militaryservice, and focus specifically on those soldiers whoserved in the Italian Campaign. Similar to the researchcarried out by Takaki and others, this paper willanalyze whether or not factors of race, culture, andidentity played any role in the motivation for militaryservice. This question becomes especially fascinatingwhen considering that, beginning in 1943, manyItalian Americans served in the Italian Campaign—afact that almost certainly furthered the shiftingidentities already experienced by Italian Americans. Inthe years before the war, ethnic prejudice dictated therepresentation of Italian Americans—prejudice thatevolved into suspicions of dual-allegiance with Italy’sexpanding role in World War II. In examining personalaccounts of Italian American soldiers, it is clear thatthis ethnic bias impacted the formation of theiridentities as Americans—a construction that impactedtheir involvement in the war. While strongly committedto an American identity and cause, those ItalianAmerican soldiers serving in Italy found that theirItalian background significantly influenced theirfeelings about Italy’s role in the war, their militaryresponsibilities, and their interactions with the Italianpeople.

Historical Context: Changing Attitudes towardsItalian Americans, 1850-World War II

In the years before World War II, Americanperceptions of Italian American immigrants andcommunities evolved considerably. In the early yearsof immigration that occurred in the latter half of the

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nineteenth century and the early twentieth century,media depictions of Italian immigrants varied. An 1857article from Putnam’s Monthly Magazine of AmericanLiterature, Science and Art, describes the precariousnature of the Italian population in America through hisinteractions with Italians in his small town. Althoughhe characterized a small portion of this group asexperts in the “art of being happy,”19 his portrayal ofthe larger Italian population in America was lessflattering. Describing them as “refugees withoutresources or education,” the author went on to notethat:

There is no class of emigrants, who, from theirwant of adaptation, strong home attachments,and inability to cope with a new climate andforeign habits, claim such ready sympathy...thisnatural inaptitude, sensitiveness, andignorance of the world, produce some ludicrouscontrasts of character and circumstances, theyoften prove the most difficult people to help, themost amiable marplots...20

While the article in no way implied that theseimmigrants were a danger to American society, itsdescription was clearly intended to treat the Italianimmigrants in an extremely paternalistic manner.

Other early representations of Italians living inAmerica focused on a different image—one thatcharacterized the perception of a hard-working and

19 “Italians In America,” Putnam’s Monthly Magazine ofAmerican Literature Science, and Art 9, no. 49 (January 1857), 1. 20 Ibid, 2.


industrious laborer journeying to America in order tofind prosperity. For example, a 1906 volume ofOutlook—a monthly periodical from New YorkCity—John Foster Carr clearly underscored this image.In “The Coming of the Italian”, Carr emphasized theimpoverished nature of the Italian immigrant—statingthat their motivations for migration were rooted in a“definite economic cause,” and that Italians arrived“from a land of starvation to a land of plenty”.21

Additionally, Carr pointed to the laborious, yetinexperienced, proclivity of the Italian newcomers: “He[The Italian] comes because the country [The UnitedStates] has the most urgent need of unskilled labor.This need largely shaped the character of our Italianimmigration, and offers immediate work to mostnewcomers.”22 While Carr’s analysis characterizedthese immigrants as “ignorant” individuals, whose onlytalents were found in manual labor, he neverthelessemphasized that the Italian population in America was“quickly absorbed without disturbing either the publicpeace or the labor market.”23 While Carr’s imagecontains residues of paternalism, it nonethelessspeaks volumes about the perceived value of ItalianAmerican communities to the United States.

As the twentieth century progressed, however,depictions of Italian immigrants, and immigrants ingeneral, shifted. Although caused by a variety offactors, this shift primarily resulted from economictensions. As early as 1902, the founding-president of

21 John Foster Carr, “The Coming of the Italian,” Outlook 82,no.8 (February 1906), 420, 428. 22 Ibid, 420-421. 23 Ibid, 421.

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nineteenth century and the early twentieth century,media depictions of Italian immigrants varied. An 1857article from Putnam’s Monthly Magazine of AmericanLiterature, Science and Art, describes the precariousnature of the Italian population in America through hisinteractions with Italians in his small town. Althoughhe characterized a small portion of this group asexperts in the “art of being happy,”19 his portrayal ofthe larger Italian population in America was lessflattering. Describing them as “refugees withoutresources or education,” the author went on to notethat:

There is no class of emigrants, who, from theirwant of adaptation, strong home attachments,and inability to cope with a new climate andforeign habits, claim such ready sympathy...thisnatural inaptitude, sensitiveness, andignorance of the world, produce some ludicrouscontrasts of character and circumstances, theyoften prove the most difficult people to help, themost amiable marplots...20

While the article in no way implied that theseimmigrants were a danger to American society, itsdescription was clearly intended to treat the Italianimmigrants in an extremely paternalistic manner.

Other early representations of Italians living inAmerica focused on a different image—one thatcharacterized the perception of a hard-working and

19 “Italians In America,” Putnam’s Monthly Magazine ofAmerican Literature Science, and Art 9, no. 49 (January 1857), 1. 20 Ibid, 2.


industrious laborer journeying to America in order tofind prosperity. For example, a 1906 volume ofOutlook—a monthly periodical from New YorkCity—John Foster Carr clearly underscored this image.In “The Coming of the Italian”, Carr emphasized theimpoverished nature of the Italian immigrant—statingthat their motivations for migration were rooted in a“definite economic cause,” and that Italians arrived“from a land of starvation to a land of plenty”.21

Additionally, Carr pointed to the laborious, yetinexperienced, proclivity of the Italian newcomers: “He[The Italian] comes because the country [The UnitedStates] has the most urgent need of unskilled labor.This need largely shaped the character of our Italianimmigration, and offers immediate work to mostnewcomers.”22 While Carr’s analysis characterizedthese immigrants as “ignorant” individuals, whose onlytalents were found in manual labor, he neverthelessemphasized that the Italian population in America was“quickly absorbed without disturbing either the publicpeace or the labor market.”23 While Carr’s imagecontains residues of paternalism, it nonethelessspeaks volumes about the perceived value of ItalianAmerican communities to the United States.

As the twentieth century progressed, however,depictions of Italian immigrants, and immigrants ingeneral, shifted. Although caused by a variety offactors, this shift primarily resulted from economictensions. As early as 1902, the founding-president of

21 John Foster Carr, “The Coming of the Italian,” Outlook 82,no.8 (February 1906), 420, 428. 22 Ibid, 420-421. 23 Ibid, 421.

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the American Federation of Labor (AFL), SamuelGompers, protested the influx of immigration intoAmerica, and argued that “the intelligence and theprosperity of our [American] working people areendangered...Cheap labor, ignorant labor, takes[American] jobs and cuts [American] wages”.24 Similararguments found their way into many Americanperiodicals, newspapers, and journals. For example,Overland Monthly and Out West Magazinerecommended that the United States be “verycautious” in opening “the gates to another swarm,”and further rejected the notion that the United Statesshould be considered a destination for the world’stroubled refugees.25

Many directed these nativist concerns specificallyat Italian immigration and the Italian Americanpopulation in the United States. Even Department ofLabor Secretary James J. Davis commented on theneed for potential restrictions on immigration,especially from Italy. Davis’ extreme nativist stancebecame clear in the multitude of opinion pieces hewrote during the 1920s, including one for the LosAngeles Times in which he argued for “selectiveimmigration,” which meant the rejection of “everyindividual who is physically, mentally, or morallyunsound or whose political or economic views

24 Samuel Gompers, “Demand of American Labor forRestriction of Immigration and an Illiteracy Test for Immigrants:Letter of the President of the American Federation of Labor,”Publications of the Immigration Restriction League, no. 35 (May1902), 1. 25 John Chetwood, “Immigration—Asset or Liability?,”Overland Monthly and Out West Magazine 81, no. 4 (August1923), 1.


constitute a menace to free institutions.”26 In otherarticles written during the same period, Davis alignedItalians with these “unsound” groups. In 1924, hewrote that Italian Americans boasted an extremelyhigh crime rate among immigrant groups—the thirdhighest, according to him, behind only the Turks andthe Balkans.27

In addition to these socio-economic fears, politicaltensions formed in the early years of the Second WorldWar. As Mussolini’s imperial conquests expanded toNorth Africa, a fear of fascism’s expansion intoAmerican borders grew within the Americangovernment and public. These anxieties gainedstrength especially after Italy’s assistance in theGerman war effort—an action that prompted Americanmedia outlets like The New York Times and TheWashington Herald to spread stories about thepossibility of Italians in America acting as agents ofMussolini in order to bring the fascist politicalmachine to the states.28 These fears of a fifth columnwere reiterated by Martin Dies Jr., a TexasCongressional Representative, and Chairman of theHouse Committee Investigating Un-AmericanActivities. In his 1940 book, The Trojan Horse in

26 James J. Davis, “Nation Faces Menace of ImmigrantInundation,” Los Angeles Times, March 9, 1924, 7. 27 James J. Davis, in Evening Bulletin, June 3, 1924;referenced in Luconi, From Paesani to White Ethnics, 45. 28 The New York Times, June 13, 1940, The New York Post,March 20, 1941, and The Washington Herald Tribune, March 22,1941; referenced in Matteo Pretelli, “The Useless Fifth Column ofMussolini in America,” in The Impact of World War II on ItalianAmericans: Selected Essays from the 35th Annual Conference ofthe American Italian Historical Association, ed. Gary R. Morimo(New York: American Italian Historical Institute, 2007), 69.

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the American Federation of Labor (AFL), SamuelGompers, protested the influx of immigration intoAmerica, and argued that “the intelligence and theprosperity of our [American] working people areendangered...Cheap labor, ignorant labor, takes[American] jobs and cuts [American] wages”.24 Similararguments found their way into many Americanperiodicals, newspapers, and journals. For example,Overland Monthly and Out West Magazinerecommended that the United States be “verycautious” in opening “the gates to another swarm,”and further rejected the notion that the United Statesshould be considered a destination for the world’stroubled refugees.25

Many directed these nativist concerns specificallyat Italian immigration and the Italian Americanpopulation in the United States. Even Department ofLabor Secretary James J. Davis commented on theneed for potential restrictions on immigration,especially from Italy. Davis’ extreme nativist stancebecame clear in the multitude of opinion pieces hewrote during the 1920s, including one for the LosAngeles Times in which he argued for “selectiveimmigration,” which meant the rejection of “everyindividual who is physically, mentally, or morallyunsound or whose political or economic views

24 Samuel Gompers, “Demand of American Labor forRestriction of Immigration and an Illiteracy Test for Immigrants:Letter of the President of the American Federation of Labor,”Publications of the Immigration Restriction League, no. 35 (May1902), 1. 25 John Chetwood, “Immigration—Asset or Liability?,”Overland Monthly and Out West Magazine 81, no. 4 (August1923), 1.


constitute a menace to free institutions.”26 In otherarticles written during the same period, Davis alignedItalians with these “unsound” groups. In 1924, hewrote that Italian Americans boasted an extremelyhigh crime rate among immigrant groups—the thirdhighest, according to him, behind only the Turks andthe Balkans.27

In addition to these socio-economic fears, politicaltensions formed in the early years of the Second WorldWar. As Mussolini’s imperial conquests expanded toNorth Africa, a fear of fascism’s expansion intoAmerican borders grew within the Americangovernment and public. These anxieties gainedstrength especially after Italy’s assistance in theGerman war effort—an action that prompted Americanmedia outlets like The New York Times and TheWashington Herald to spread stories about thepossibility of Italians in America acting as agents ofMussolini in order to bring the fascist politicalmachine to the states.28 These fears of a fifth columnwere reiterated by Martin Dies Jr., a TexasCongressional Representative, and Chairman of theHouse Committee Investigating Un-AmericanActivities. In his 1940 book, The Trojan Horse in

26 James J. Davis, “Nation Faces Menace of ImmigrantInundation,” Los Angeles Times, March 9, 1924, 7. 27 James J. Davis, in Evening Bulletin, June 3, 1924;referenced in Luconi, From Paesani to White Ethnics, 45. 28 The New York Times, June 13, 1940, The New York Post,March 20, 1941, and The Washington Herald Tribune, March 22,1941; referenced in Matteo Pretelli, “The Useless Fifth Column ofMussolini in America,” in The Impact of World War II on ItalianAmericans: Selected Essays from the 35th Annual Conference ofthe American Italian Historical Association, ed. Gary R. Morimo(New York: American Italian Historical Institute, 2007), 69.

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America, Dies dedicated a chapter to “Mussolini’sTrojan Horse” that had penetrated American soil.According to Dies, the committee’s investigationsrevealed that Italian Americans displayed strongsupport for Mussolini’s activities abroad, and evenmade financial donations to Mussolini’s government.

Hundreds of thousands of dollars have beensent to Italy by Italians residing in the UnitedStates; and during the Ethiopian Campaign,there was an organized effort in the UnitedStates to raise funds for the conquest ofEthiopia. The support of this group alone hasbeen an important factor in the Italianeconomy. The facts show that many Italian-Americans have assisted the Fascist regime.29

Suspicions towards Italian Americans, therefore, werebroadcasted through American print-media andgovernment.

As the war progressed, these concerns heavilyinfluenced the federal government’s action towardsmany Italian Americans. Following the Italian-Germanmilitary alliance and Italy’s declaration of war againstthe United States, the Federal Bureau of Investigationcompiled lists of organizations and individualsconsidered pro-fascist in nature—even going so far asinterning many undocumented aliens, and relocatingnaturalized citizens from sensitive military zones.30

While the majority of Italian Americans were fortunate

29 Martin Dies Jr. The Trojan Horse in America (New York:Dodd, Mead & Company, 1940), 332-333. 30 Scherini, 282, 290.


to evade this direct government intrusion of liberty,others faced hostility from local municipalgovernments afterwards—especially in terms of policeprofiling. By June of 1942, an estimated fifteenhundred Italian Americans had been arrested anddetained for small petty crimes in states withsignificant populations of Italian Americans such asNew York, California, and Louisiana.31 Thus, it is clearthat Italy’s involvement in the Second World Warserved as another catalyst for suspicion towards theItalian community in America.

The prevailing characterization of ItalianAmericans, therefore, considerably evolved in the yearsleading up to the Second World War. In the early yearsof immigration, the Italian American was characterizedin a paternalistic tone—helpless immigrantsattempting to economically better themselves throughAmerican benevolence. Yet, as the years progressed,and the United States faced the domestic struggles ofthe Great Depression and Second World War, imagesof Italian Americans progressed towards fears ofeconomic and political deviance—depictions furtheredby Italy’s involvement in the early years of World WarII.

Forming an Identity: The Influence of EthnicPrejudice n the Experiences of Italian AmericanSoldiers in the Years Leading Up to World War II

Clearly, the perceptions of Italian Americansfluctuated greatly in the years leading up to theSecond World War. As periods of immigration passed

31 Ibid, 287.

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America, Dies dedicated a chapter to “Mussolini’sTrojan Horse” that had penetrated American soil.According to Dies, the committee’s investigationsrevealed that Italian Americans displayed strongsupport for Mussolini’s activities abroad, and evenmade financial donations to Mussolini’s government.

Hundreds of thousands of dollars have beensent to Italy by Italians residing in the UnitedStates; and during the Ethiopian Campaign,there was an organized effort in the UnitedStates to raise funds for the conquest ofEthiopia. The support of this group alone hasbeen an important factor in the Italianeconomy. The facts show that many Italian-Americans have assisted the Fascist regime.29

Suspicions towards Italian Americans, therefore, werebroadcasted through American print-media andgovernment.

As the war progressed, these concerns heavilyinfluenced the federal government’s action towardsmany Italian Americans. Following the Italian-Germanmilitary alliance and Italy’s declaration of war againstthe United States, the Federal Bureau of Investigationcompiled lists of organizations and individualsconsidered pro-fascist in nature—even going so far asinterning many undocumented aliens, and relocatingnaturalized citizens from sensitive military zones.30

While the majority of Italian Americans were fortunate

29 Martin Dies Jr. The Trojan Horse in America (New York:Dodd, Mead & Company, 1940), 332-333. 30 Scherini, 282, 290.


to evade this direct government intrusion of liberty,others faced hostility from local municipalgovernments afterwards—especially in terms of policeprofiling. By June of 1942, an estimated fifteenhundred Italian Americans had been arrested anddetained for small petty crimes in states withsignificant populations of Italian Americans such asNew York, California, and Louisiana.31 Thus, it is clearthat Italy’s involvement in the Second World Warserved as another catalyst for suspicion towards theItalian community in America.

The prevailing characterization of ItalianAmericans, therefore, considerably evolved in the yearsleading up to the Second World War. In the early yearsof immigration, the Italian American was characterizedin a paternalistic tone—helpless immigrantsattempting to economically better themselves throughAmerican benevolence. Yet, as the years progressed,and the United States faced the domestic struggles ofthe Great Depression and Second World War, imagesof Italian Americans progressed towards fears ofeconomic and political deviance—depictions furtheredby Italy’s involvement in the early years of World WarII.

Forming an Identity: The Influence of EthnicPrejudice n the Experiences of Italian AmericanSoldiers in the Years Leading Up to World War II

Clearly, the perceptions of Italian Americansfluctuated greatly in the years leading up to theSecond World War. As periods of immigration passed

31 Ibid, 287.

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and Italy’s involvement in the war grew underMussolini, these representations of Italian Americanschanged from simple-minded laborers to economic andpolitical threats. For Italian Americans who laterserved in the United States military, theserepresentations impacted their experience before,during, and after the war.

First and foremost, many of these Italian Americanmen encountered first-hand the stereotypes of the“ignorant” immigrant and community. For the mostpart, these experiences dealt specifically with thetreatment of Italian Americans in the Americaneducation system. For many, being the children ofItalian immigrants negatively impacted their scholasticventures. This was especially the case for futureservicemen like Rocco Siciliano and Philip Aquila. Inhis memoir, Siciliano, who served with the 10th

Mountain Division during WWII, described significanteducational impediments that existed solely becauseof his Italian immigrant background. During middleschool, for example, Siciliano fell victim to the commonpractice of holding-back immigrant children in a gradesolely because school authorities assumed that thefamilies’ “poor English” inhibited academic progress.32

In addition, Siciliano faced the same paternalisticattitudes that accompanied early Italian immigrants.After scoring an extremely low 81 on his scholasticintelligence test (the class average was in the 100s),his teacher announced his score to the entire class.

32 Rocco Siciliano, Walking On Sand: The Story of anImmigrant Son and the Forgotten Art of Public Service (Salt LakeCity: The University of Utah Press 2004), 11.


This experience was made even more humiliating asthe teacher referred to him as “poor Rocco”.33

Philip Aquila, who served with the Air Force AirCadets during the war, faced similar educationaldiscrimination in high school, even though he excelledthroughout those four years. This success includedstellar attendance, nearly perfect grades sinceelementary school, and even his election as classpresident in his senior year.34 Despite theseoutstanding achievements, Aquila’s backgroundproved detrimental to his assigned curriculum duringhis senior year. During this period, Aquila’s hometownof Buffalo, New York instituted a stringent trackingsystem for high school seniors—meaning that thosedesignated for vocational or technical jobs were taughtseparately from those thought to be suited forprofessional careers. While seemingly a wellestablished plan to track students based on theirabilities, this system was often manipulated toseparate the social “undesirables” from the“professional” population of students.35 Given Aquila’ssuccess, then, the professional track should have beenthe obvious placement. Unfortunately for him,however, the fact that Aquila belonged to a poor Italianimmigrant family sealed his fate in the vocationaltrack.36 Thus, for both Siciliano and Aquila, the

33 Ibid, 12. 34 Richard Aquila, Home Front Soldier: The Story of a GI andHis Italian American Family During World War II (Albany: StateUniversity of New York Press, 1999), 27. 35 William Graebner, Coming of Age in Buffalo: Youth andAuthority in the Postwar Era (Philadelphia: Temple UniversityPress, 1990), 103; referenced in Aquila, 27.

36 Aquila, 27, 30.

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and Italy’s involvement in the war grew underMussolini, these representations of Italian Americanschanged from simple-minded laborers to economic andpolitical threats. For Italian Americans who laterserved in the United States military, theserepresentations impacted their experience before,during, and after the war.

First and foremost, many of these Italian Americanmen encountered first-hand the stereotypes of the“ignorant” immigrant and community. For the mostpart, these experiences dealt specifically with thetreatment of Italian Americans in the Americaneducation system. For many, being the children ofItalian immigrants negatively impacted their scholasticventures. This was especially the case for futureservicemen like Rocco Siciliano and Philip Aquila. Inhis memoir, Siciliano, who served with the 10th

Mountain Division during WWII, described significanteducational impediments that existed solely becauseof his Italian immigrant background. During middleschool, for example, Siciliano fell victim to the commonpractice of holding-back immigrant children in a gradesolely because school authorities assumed that thefamilies’ “poor English” inhibited academic progress.32

In addition, Siciliano faced the same paternalisticattitudes that accompanied early Italian immigrants.After scoring an extremely low 81 on his scholasticintelligence test (the class average was in the 100s),his teacher announced his score to the entire class.

32 Rocco Siciliano, Walking On Sand: The Story of anImmigrant Son and the Forgotten Art of Public Service (Salt LakeCity: The University of Utah Press 2004), 11.


This experience was made even more humiliating asthe teacher referred to him as “poor Rocco”.33

Philip Aquila, who served with the Air Force AirCadets during the war, faced similar educationaldiscrimination in high school, even though he excelledthroughout those four years. This success includedstellar attendance, nearly perfect grades sinceelementary school, and even his election as classpresident in his senior year.34 Despite theseoutstanding achievements, Aquila’s backgroundproved detrimental to his assigned curriculum duringhis senior year. During this period, Aquila’s hometownof Buffalo, New York instituted a stringent trackingsystem for high school seniors—meaning that thosedesignated for vocational or technical jobs were taughtseparately from those thought to be suited forprofessional careers. While seemingly a wellestablished plan to track students based on theirabilities, this system was often manipulated toseparate the social “undesirables” from the“professional” population of students.35 Given Aquila’ssuccess, then, the professional track should have beenthe obvious placement. Unfortunately for him,however, the fact that Aquila belonged to a poor Italianimmigrant family sealed his fate in the vocationaltrack.36 Thus, for both Siciliano and Aquila, the

33 Ibid, 12. 34 Richard Aquila, Home Front Soldier: The Story of a GI andHis Italian American Family During World War II (Albany: StateUniversity of New York Press, 1999), 27. 35 William Graebner, Coming of Age in Buffalo: Youth andAuthority in the Postwar Era (Philadelphia: Temple UniversityPress, 1990), 103; referenced in Aquila, 27.

36 Aquila, 27, 30.

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stereotype of the ignorant immigrant family greatlyfactored into their early life.

Concerns surrounding Italian American allegianceto the United States also factored into the experienceof Italian American servicemen. For some, theseconcerns manifested themselves in official evaluationsand interviews during combat training. This situationimpacted the experience of those like Phil Aquila, whofaced direct questions concerning his allegiance to theUnited States and his abilities (or lack thereof) to fightagainst the Italian enemy abroad.37 In addition to theseracially motivated concerns, Aquila further suspectedthat his Italian parentage contributed to his domesticassignment during the war. After completing pilotschool, he applied for the next phase of pilot training,one that would have readied him for active-duty on theEuropean front. Despite his above average grades inpilot school, the selection committee rejected Aquila’stransfer, a decision that solidified his role on thedomestic front. While it could never be proven, Aquilastrongly suspected that this decision stemmed fromhis Italian background.38

For others, concerns about allegiance createdunderlying suspicions that the federal governmentmight take eventual action against Italian Americans.For Al Gagliardi, the son of an Italian living in Gilroy,these fears resulted from the restrictions placed on asignificant portion of the Italians in his community,especially for those who were still un-naturalized.While he and his family escaped much of this hostility,he acknowledged that the older generations, many of

37 Ibid, 42. 38 Ibid, 41-42.


whom had been in the country for years but nevernaturalized, faced strict curfews punishable by jail-time.39 More importantly, however, suspicions ofallegiance to Italy caused Gagliardi to draw similaritiesto the experience of Japanese Americans. Living inGilroy, Gagliardi formed close relationships with manyJapanese Americans at school, relationships that werecut short due to their internment following the attackon Pearl Harbor. While Gagliardi felt a deep sense ofregret for this treatment, he also recognized thatItalian Americans might face a similar fate:

When they started to take all these Japanesefriends of mine, who were born here and wentto school with me, to what they called the‘relocation’ or ‘concentration’ camps, I was alittle scared because I said: ‘Gee Italy is againstus [America]...I’m next!...Italians and Germans,we’re probably all going to go’. So it was a littlescary there for a while.40

Thus, it is clear that, for Gagliardi, fears of allegianceaffected the Italian community of Gilroy in many ways.While the level of suspicion was minimal compared toother ethnic groups, those like Gagliardi and Aquilaclearly believed themselves to be in a precarioussituation.

For others, however, prejudice against ItalianAmericans factored little into their lives before the war.Bruno Ghiringhelli, who would later serve in F-

39 Al Gagliardi, interview by author, Gilroy, CA, November11, 2012. 40 Ibid.

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stereotype of the ignorant immigrant family greatlyfactored into their early life.

Concerns surrounding Italian American allegianceto the United States also factored into the experienceof Italian American servicemen. For some, theseconcerns manifested themselves in official evaluationsand interviews during combat training. This situationimpacted the experience of those like Phil Aquila, whofaced direct questions concerning his allegiance to theUnited States and his abilities (or lack thereof) to fightagainst the Italian enemy abroad.37 In addition to theseracially motivated concerns, Aquila further suspectedthat his Italian parentage contributed to his domesticassignment during the war. After completing pilotschool, he applied for the next phase of pilot training,one that would have readied him for active-duty on theEuropean front. Despite his above average grades inpilot school, the selection committee rejected Aquila’stransfer, a decision that solidified his role on thedomestic front. While it could never be proven, Aquilastrongly suspected that this decision stemmed fromhis Italian background.38

For others, concerns about allegiance createdunderlying suspicions that the federal governmentmight take eventual action against Italian Americans.For Al Gagliardi, the son of an Italian living in Gilroy,these fears resulted from the restrictions placed on asignificant portion of the Italians in his community,especially for those who were still un-naturalized.While he and his family escaped much of this hostility,he acknowledged that the older generations, many of

37 Ibid, 42. 38 Ibid, 41-42.


whom had been in the country for years but nevernaturalized, faced strict curfews punishable by jail-time.39 More importantly, however, suspicions ofallegiance to Italy caused Gagliardi to draw similaritiesto the experience of Japanese Americans. Living inGilroy, Gagliardi formed close relationships with manyJapanese Americans at school, relationships that werecut short due to their internment following the attackon Pearl Harbor. While Gagliardi felt a deep sense ofregret for this treatment, he also recognized thatItalian Americans might face a similar fate:

When they started to take all these Japanesefriends of mine, who were born here and wentto school with me, to what they called the‘relocation’ or ‘concentration’ camps, I was alittle scared because I said: ‘Gee Italy is againstus [America]...I’m next!...Italians and Germans,we’re probably all going to go’. So it was a littlescary there for a while.40

Thus, it is clear that, for Gagliardi, fears of allegianceaffected the Italian community of Gilroy in many ways.While the level of suspicion was minimal compared toother ethnic groups, those like Gagliardi and Aquilaclearly believed themselves to be in a precarioussituation.

For others, however, prejudice against ItalianAmericans factored little into their lives before the war.Bruno Ghiringhelli, who would later serve in F-

39 Al Gagliardi, interview by author, Gilroy, CA, November11, 2012. 40 Ibid.

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Company of the 87th Infantry, recalled that stereotypes,prejudice, and suspicion played little to no role in hisearly life. This minimal impact of ethnic prejudiceresulted from living in large and strong ItalianAmerican communities. For Ghiringhelli, the contextof a large Italian American community that thrived inNorthern California shielded him from any sort ofprejudicial harassment or social pressure.41 Thus,while prejudice created real concerns for many ItalianAmerican servicemen growing up, for others, thesefactors presented little impact.

Personal responses to these experiences alsodiffered. For some, the name-calling they faced at anearly age created the impetus to stand up forthemselves as equal members of society. Men like AlGagliardi voiced their grievances from an earlyage—especially in response to the racial epithet of‘dago’ that he frequently heard at school. After aninitial altercation, Al learned that vocally speaking upfor himself helped greatly: “I put the message out fast:say it behind my back but you better be able to runfaster than me and nobody could run faster thanme...Nobody ever called me ‘dago’ after that and itdidn’t bother me anymore because they knew.”42 Forothers, the realities of difference necessitated acomplex balance of assimilating to American normswhile maintaining their Italian selfhood. RoccoSiciliano best characterized this struggle as a “choice,”a choice between a life stuck in the traditions of the

41 Bruno Ghiringhelli, interview by author, Rutherford, CA,January 4, 2013. 42 Ibid.


old world or a new identity compatible with bothenvironments.43 In his own words:

In Salt Lake City we were a tiny minority mixedin with an overwhelming majority. Our familyremained very close, and we adhered to somesimple Italian traditions, especially in the habitsof food and drink. Yet I often felt I was beingwatched...I did not suffer from any chronicidentity crisis, but I was unwilling to exist onthe sidelines, as neither fish nor flesh...I wantedto be accepted. That was a choice. I becamedetermined to make to make it appear that Iwas part of their [the majority’s] group. I wantedto show them that I thought like them, and thatI, in every respect, wanted to be like them.44

Although Siciliano remained invested in the Italianside of his identity, he clearly understood the potentialbenefits of assimilation. While these responses aredifferent, they clearly show the agency that these menheld in the creation of their social identities. ForGagliardi, racist taunting caused him to stand upagainst intolerance and assert his equal place insociety. While Siciliano’s case presents a sensitivebalancing act, it nonetheless deepens the notion ofindividual agency and control between American andItalian identities.

Unsurprisingly, America’s entry into World War IIstrengthened this assertion of a firm Americanidentity. Like in the rest of America, powerful patriotic

43 Siciliano, 10. 44 Ibid, 10, 12.

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Company of the 87th Infantry, recalled that stereotypes,prejudice, and suspicion played little to no role in hisearly life. This minimal impact of ethnic prejudiceresulted from living in large and strong ItalianAmerican communities. For Ghiringhelli, the contextof a large Italian American community that thrived inNorthern California shielded him from any sort ofprejudicial harassment or social pressure.41 Thus,while prejudice created real concerns for many ItalianAmerican servicemen growing up, for others, thesefactors presented little impact.

Personal responses to these experiences alsodiffered. For some, the name-calling they faced at anearly age created the impetus to stand up forthemselves as equal members of society. Men like AlGagliardi voiced their grievances from an earlyage—especially in response to the racial epithet of‘dago’ that he frequently heard at school. After aninitial altercation, Al learned that vocally speaking upfor himself helped greatly: “I put the message out fast:say it behind my back but you better be able to runfaster than me and nobody could run faster thanme...Nobody ever called me ‘dago’ after that and itdidn’t bother me anymore because they knew.”42 Forothers, the realities of difference necessitated acomplex balance of assimilating to American normswhile maintaining their Italian selfhood. RoccoSiciliano best characterized this struggle as a “choice,”a choice between a life stuck in the traditions of the

41 Bruno Ghiringhelli, interview by author, Rutherford, CA,January 4, 2013. 42 Ibid.


old world or a new identity compatible with bothenvironments.43 In his own words:

In Salt Lake City we were a tiny minority mixedin with an overwhelming majority. Our familyremained very close, and we adhered to somesimple Italian traditions, especially in the habitsof food and drink. Yet I often felt I was beingwatched...I did not suffer from any chronicidentity crisis, but I was unwilling to exist onthe sidelines, as neither fish nor flesh...I wantedto be accepted. That was a choice. I becamedetermined to make to make it appear that Iwas part of their [the majority’s] group. I wantedto show them that I thought like them, and thatI, in every respect, wanted to be like them.44

Although Siciliano remained invested in the Italianside of his identity, he clearly understood the potentialbenefits of assimilation. While these responses aredifferent, they clearly show the agency that these menheld in the creation of their social identities. ForGagliardi, racist taunting caused him to stand upagainst intolerance and assert his equal place insociety. While Siciliano’s case presents a sensitivebalancing act, it nonetheless deepens the notion ofindividual agency and control between American andItalian identities.

Unsurprisingly, America’s entry into World War IIstrengthened this assertion of a firm Americanidentity. Like in the rest of America, powerful patriotic

43 Siciliano, 10. 44 Ibid, 10, 12.

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attitudes flourished within the Italian Americancommunity in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor, an attackthat solidified America’s involvement in the war. Thisdevotion to the American cause is better understoodwhen one observes Italian American enlistments intothe armed services. While no precise figure exists, it isgenerally believed anywhere from 300,000 to 400,000Italian Americans served in the armed forces duringthe war.45 Recent personal accounts strengthen thesenotions of Italian American motivation. For RoccoSiciliano, the attack on Pearl Harbor created an“intensely unifying force” that “crystallized publicopinion” on America’s war policy, and motivated everyAmerican to help their country.46 For Al Gagliardi, thedesire to serve was so strong he even tried to enlist atthe young age of seventeen, only to discover anextremely hesitant mother who would not sign thenecessary authorization papers.47 Even those of oldergenerations willingly volunteered to serve. ForCornelius “Kio” Granai, a forty-six year old father oftwo, who also served in the First World War, WorldWar II presented the opportunity to protect thefreedoms of the younger generation.48 While some fearof Italian American allegiance still continued in muchof the country, these Italian American efforts in thewar could not be ignored, a fact made clear in anaddress to Congress by New York Representative VitoMarcantonio. Responding to those who continued to

45 Peter Belmonte, Italian Americans in World War II(Chicago: Arcadia Publishing, 2001), 6. 46 Siciliano, 62. 47 Gagliardi, interview. 48 Cornelius Granai, Letters from “Somewhere...,”(Burlington, Vermont: Barnes Bay Press, 2000), 3, 7.


harbor prejudice, the Congressman passionatelydetailed Italian American allegiance:

There should be no need for me to speak to youtonight about the role of Italian-Americans inthis war...Italian-Americans share with the restof their countrymen, the conviction that enemyagents, saboteurs, and spies, whether Americanborn or foreign born, whether citizen or non-citizen, must be ceaselessly guarded againstand ruthlessly dealt with...History will recordthat those who denied opportunities to ourItalian-Americans, or to any other groupbecause of their race, color, creed, or nationalorigin, were themselves during the work ofenemy agents and saboteurs...So, we too, truesons of Garibaldi...renew our pledge andrededicate our energies and our lives for thevictory of our arms, for the victory of ourcause.49

Through the large numbers of Italian Americans in thearmed forces, and their clear passion and desire toserve the country, their commitment and allegiance tothe United States cannot be denied.

It is clear, then, that the Second World Warstrengthened the American identity of these ItalianAmerican men. While their experience with the ethnicprejudices and stereotypes before the war varied, the

49 Vito Marcantonio, “Loyalty of Italian Americans,” in ADocumentary History of Italian Americans, ed. Wayne Moquin(New York: Praeger Publishers, 1975), 399-400.

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attitudes flourished within the Italian Americancommunity in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor, an attackthat solidified America’s involvement in the war. Thisdevotion to the American cause is better understoodwhen one observes Italian American enlistments intothe armed services. While no precise figure exists, it isgenerally believed anywhere from 300,000 to 400,000Italian Americans served in the armed forces duringthe war.45 Recent personal accounts strengthen thesenotions of Italian American motivation. For RoccoSiciliano, the attack on Pearl Harbor created an“intensely unifying force” that “crystallized publicopinion” on America’s war policy, and motivated everyAmerican to help their country.46 For Al Gagliardi, thedesire to serve was so strong he even tried to enlist atthe young age of seventeen, only to discover anextremely hesitant mother who would not sign thenecessary authorization papers.47 Even those of oldergenerations willingly volunteered to serve. ForCornelius “Kio” Granai, a forty-six year old father oftwo, who also served in the First World War, WorldWar II presented the opportunity to protect thefreedoms of the younger generation.48 While some fearof Italian American allegiance still continued in muchof the country, these Italian American efforts in thewar could not be ignored, a fact made clear in anaddress to Congress by New York Representative VitoMarcantonio. Responding to those who continued to

45 Peter Belmonte, Italian Americans in World War II(Chicago: Arcadia Publishing, 2001), 6. 46 Siciliano, 62. 47 Gagliardi, interview. 48 Cornelius Granai, Letters from “Somewhere...,”(Burlington, Vermont: Barnes Bay Press, 2000), 3, 7.


harbor prejudice, the Congressman passionatelydetailed Italian American allegiance:

There should be no need for me to speak to youtonight about the role of Italian-Americans inthis war...Italian-Americans share with the restof their countrymen, the conviction that enemyagents, saboteurs, and spies, whether Americanborn or foreign born, whether citizen or non-citizen, must be ceaselessly guarded againstand ruthlessly dealt with...History will recordthat those who denied opportunities to ourItalian-Americans, or to any other groupbecause of their race, color, creed, or nationalorigin, were themselves during the work ofenemy agents and saboteurs...So, we too, truesons of Garibaldi...renew our pledge andrededicate our energies and our lives for thevictory of our arms, for the victory of ourcause.49

Through the large numbers of Italian Americans in thearmed forces, and their clear passion and desire toserve the country, their commitment and allegiance tothe United States cannot be denied.

It is clear, then, that the Second World Warstrengthened the American identity of these ItalianAmerican men. While their experience with the ethnicprejudices and stereotypes before the war varied, the

49 Vito Marcantonio, “Loyalty of Italian Americans,” in ADocumentary History of Italian Americans, ed. Wayne Moquin(New York: Praeger Publishers, 1975), 399-400.

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war created a unifying force that reinforced theirAmerican patriotism.

A Hyphenated Campaign: The Blending of anItalian Identity in Italy

While Italian American servicemen exhibitedunquestionable patriotism following the United States’entry into war, Italy’s status as an Axis power until1943 created an interesting element in theirexperience. The impact of Italy’s role in the war isespecially considerable for those Italian American menwho served in the Italian Campaign. For many ItalianAmericans, serving in Italy produced sentimentalfeelings of family and ancestry. Additionally, mostfound that their Italian American identities led to notonly unique responsibilities while abroad, but also tounique interactions with the Italian country and itspeople.

For some Italian American servicemen, thepossibility of fighting in Italy evoked emotionsinvolving familial connections, as many had directfamily members still living in Italy. Bruno Ghiringhelli,who served with the Tenth Mountain Division, wasnervous about the possibility of coming face to facewith Italian cousins. While this thought in no wayaffected his sense of duty to the American causeabroad, the reality of family in Italy planted someseeds of fear.50 Even those without family in Italyexpressed similar sentimentality. Daniel J. Petruzzi,who served with the 82nd Airborne Division Military

50 Ghiringhelli, interview.


Government team, best described the sentimentalitythat accompanied the journey to Italy during the war:

Going to war in Italy was bizarre...the prospectof fighting in the land of my grandfather wasalso, at the very least, unpleasant...My feelingshad nothing to do with divided loyalty. We hadno relatives in Italy. The family was notsentimental about the ‘old country.’...I lovedItaly for itself. Its history, its culture, its way oflife.51

While these men remained completely loyal to theAmerican war effort, their comments show the impactthat Italian ancestry played in their service in Italy.

Given these ancestral factors, it is not surprisingthat Italian American servicemen took theirassignment in Italy as an opportunity to visit familymembers still in the country. For some like CorneliusGranai, serving in Italy even revealed forgotten family.While stationed near his father’s home town, Granaimet townspeople who knew his father, uncle, andcousins, a discovery so exciting that he wrote homerequesting family photos to distribute to the localtownspeople. In later letters, he expressed a strongdesire to travel to his father’s hometown himself: “I willget there as soon as I can...I must get there at allcosts...to see the home where Dad was born eventhough it was bombed and is uninhabitable.”52 StaffSergeant Joseph Cuoco, A member of the 10th

51 Daniel J. Petruzzi, My War Against The Land of MyAncestors (Irving, Texas: Fusion Press, 2000), 18-19. 52 Granai, 49-50, 56.

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war created a unifying force that reinforced theirAmerican patriotism.

A Hyphenated Campaign: The Blending of anItalian Identity in Italy

While Italian American servicemen exhibitedunquestionable patriotism following the United States’entry into war, Italy’s status as an Axis power until1943 created an interesting element in theirexperience. The impact of Italy’s role in the war isespecially considerable for those Italian American menwho served in the Italian Campaign. For many ItalianAmericans, serving in Italy produced sentimentalfeelings of family and ancestry. Additionally, mostfound that their Italian American identities led to notonly unique responsibilities while abroad, but also tounique interactions with the Italian country and itspeople.

For some Italian American servicemen, thepossibility of fighting in Italy evoked emotionsinvolving familial connections, as many had directfamily members still living in Italy. Bruno Ghiringhelli,who served with the Tenth Mountain Division, wasnervous about the possibility of coming face to facewith Italian cousins. While this thought in no wayaffected his sense of duty to the American causeabroad, the reality of family in Italy planted someseeds of fear.50 Even those without family in Italyexpressed similar sentimentality. Daniel J. Petruzzi,who served with the 82nd Airborne Division Military

50 Ghiringhelli, interview.


Government team, best described the sentimentalitythat accompanied the journey to Italy during the war:

Going to war in Italy was bizarre...the prospectof fighting in the land of my grandfather wasalso, at the very least, unpleasant...My feelingshad nothing to do with divided loyalty. We hadno relatives in Italy. The family was notsentimental about the ‘old country.’...I lovedItaly for itself. Its history, its culture, its way oflife.51

While these men remained completely loyal to theAmerican war effort, their comments show the impactthat Italian ancestry played in their service in Italy.

Given these ancestral factors, it is not surprisingthat Italian American servicemen took theirassignment in Italy as an opportunity to visit familymembers still in the country. For some like CorneliusGranai, serving in Italy even revealed forgotten family.While stationed near his father’s home town, Granaimet townspeople who knew his father, uncle, andcousins, a discovery so exciting that he wrote homerequesting family photos to distribute to the localtownspeople. In later letters, he expressed a strongdesire to travel to his father’s hometown himself: “I willget there as soon as I can...I must get there at allcosts...to see the home where Dad was born eventhough it was bombed and is uninhabitable.”52 StaffSergeant Joseph Cuoco, A member of the 10th

51 Daniel J. Petruzzi, My War Against The Land of MyAncestors (Irving, Texas: Fusion Press, 2000), 18-19. 52 Granai, 49-50, 56.

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Mountain Division, expressed similar desires. In aletter home, he relayed these aspirations to hissister—telling her that he would make every attempt tovisit their Italian family during his furlough days.53

Rocco Siciliano also felt, and carried out, these desiresto visit family in Italy. While assisting with theAmerican occupation after the war, Siciliano took timeto visit his family in Southern Italy. It was during thisvisit that he first met his grandmother, and aunts anduncles, who had moved back to Italy when he was stilltoo young to remember. Additionally, he was able towander through his mother’s childhood house, anexperience that provided invaluable insights into hisbackground.54 Thus, the war provided many of theseItalian American servicemen the opportunity to seekout relatives, and absorb invaluable insights abouttheir Italian lineage.

Serving in Italy not only gave these men theopportunity to connect with their own family, it alsoallowed them to seek out relatives of Italian friendsback home. This middle-man role characterized theexperience of Cornelius Granai. Still stationed in Italyafter the war, Granai wrote his wife and asked her tonotify the local newspaper of his location so as to sendmessages to any family members still in thecountry.55Although difficult to imagine, the processworked. One month later he wrote his wife, filling herin on the progress he made tracking down the family

53 J.F. Cuoco, Echoes from the Mountain: The WartimeCorrespondences of Staff Sergeant Joseph Cuoco (Baltimore:Publish America, 2008), 310-311. 54 Siciliano, 93-94. 55 Granai, 57.


members of friends from back home.56 From theseaccounts, then, it remains clear that serving in Italyprovided these soldiers the opportunity to connect withnot only their own families, but the families of theirfriends back in the United States.

In addition to these family dynamics, many ItalianAmericans found themselves taking on specialresponsibilities while in Italy, roles that directly relatedto their Italian background. For those that spokeItalian, these roles generally dealt with their ability tocommunicate and coordinate with the Italianresistance. For Phil Carter, the son of ItalianImmigrants serving with the 88th Division’s BlueDevils, bilingualism led to an assignment of leading agroup of Italian soldiers through the mountains ofcentral Italy.57 Daniel Petruzzi recalled similarexperiences. Serving with part of the MilitaryGovernment established during the Americanoccupation of Italy, Petruzzi oversaw the ItalianPartigiani, or resistance fighters, an assignment madeeasy by his ability to speak Italian.58 Similarly,Cornelius Granai’s ability to speak Italian positivelyimpacted his duties as the Provincial Legal Officer incharge of both the Italian and Allied MilitaryGovernments. In letters, he detailed his interactionswith the civilians coming before the court, a situationwhere the ability to speak Italian greatly helped.59

56 Ibid, 59.

57 Phil Carter, “A Highly Decorated Truck Driver,” in Storiesof Service: Valley Veterans Remember World War II, Korea,Vietnam, and the Cold War, ed. Janice Stevens, vol. 2 (Fresno,California: Craven Street Books, 2011), 61. 58 Petruzzi, 7, 11. 59 Granai, 37-38, 44-45.

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Mountain Division, expressed similar desires. In aletter home, he relayed these aspirations to hissister—telling her that he would make every attempt tovisit their Italian family during his furlough days.53

Rocco Siciliano also felt, and carried out, these desiresto visit family in Italy. While assisting with theAmerican occupation after the war, Siciliano took timeto visit his family in Southern Italy. It was during thisvisit that he first met his grandmother, and aunts anduncles, who had moved back to Italy when he was stilltoo young to remember. Additionally, he was able towander through his mother’s childhood house, anexperience that provided invaluable insights into hisbackground.54 Thus, the war provided many of theseItalian American servicemen the opportunity to seekout relatives, and absorb invaluable insights abouttheir Italian lineage.

Serving in Italy not only gave these men theopportunity to connect with their own family, it alsoallowed them to seek out relatives of Italian friendsback home. This middle-man role characterized theexperience of Cornelius Granai. Still stationed in Italyafter the war, Granai wrote his wife and asked her tonotify the local newspaper of his location so as to sendmessages to any family members still in thecountry.55Although difficult to imagine, the processworked. One month later he wrote his wife, filling herin on the progress he made tracking down the family

53 J.F. Cuoco, Echoes from the Mountain: The WartimeCorrespondences of Staff Sergeant Joseph Cuoco (Baltimore:Publish America, 2008), 310-311. 54 Siciliano, 93-94. 55 Granai, 57.


members of friends from back home.56 From theseaccounts, then, it remains clear that serving in Italyprovided these soldiers the opportunity to connect withnot only their own families, but the families of theirfriends back in the United States.

In addition to these family dynamics, many ItalianAmericans found themselves taking on specialresponsibilities while in Italy, roles that directly relatedto their Italian background. For those that spokeItalian, these roles generally dealt with their ability tocommunicate and coordinate with the Italianresistance. For Phil Carter, the son of ItalianImmigrants serving with the 88th Division’s BlueDevils, bilingualism led to an assignment of leading agroup of Italian soldiers through the mountains ofcentral Italy.57 Daniel Petruzzi recalled similarexperiences. Serving with part of the MilitaryGovernment established during the Americanoccupation of Italy, Petruzzi oversaw the ItalianPartigiani, or resistance fighters, an assignment madeeasy by his ability to speak Italian.58 Similarly,Cornelius Granai’s ability to speak Italian positivelyimpacted his duties as the Provincial Legal Officer incharge of both the Italian and Allied MilitaryGovernments. In letters, he detailed his interactionswith the civilians coming before the court, a situationwhere the ability to speak Italian greatly helped.59

56 Ibid, 59.

57 Phil Carter, “A Highly Decorated Truck Driver,” in Storiesof Service: Valley Veterans Remember World War II, Korea,Vietnam, and the Cold War, ed. Janice Stevens, vol. 2 (Fresno,California: Craven Street Books, 2011), 61. 58 Petruzzi, 7, 11. 59 Granai, 37-38, 44-45.

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While not all Italian American servicemen spoke theItalian language, those that did undoubtedly foundnew and added responsibilities, given their ability tointeract and communicate with the native population.

The Italian identity not only impacted roles withinthe military, it also influenced many of theseservicemen’s interactions with Italian civilians. ForMichael Ingrisano, who served with the 37th TroopCarrier Squadron, the ability to speak the Italianlanguage created memorable experiences with those hemet. Whether it was with local chefs, barbers, or justthe average townsperson, the sight of an Americanspeaking the native language always drew theattention of a curious Italian, a result that made trulymemorable experiences with the Italian civilians.60 ForIngrisano, these memorable interactions createdfeelings of sympathy and pity for the Italian people. Ina letter penned in 1945, Ingrisano commented on theAmerican plans for rehabilitation of Italy. In hiswriting, Ingrisano hoped for a benevolent plan ofaction and expressed sympathy for the Italian people.61

Cornelius Granai detailed similar sentiments in letterssent home. In one letter written towards the end of thewar, Granai detailed the Italian people’s amazement inhis ability to communicate and understand them.62

Like Ingrisano, Granai also shared similar feelings ofsympathy and compassion towards those heencountered. In multiple letters, Granai advised hiswife to send clothes, shoes, and other supplies to aid

60 Michael N. Ingrisano, Jr. And Nothing is Said: WartimeLetters, August 5,1943-April 21, 1945 (Manhattan, KS:Sunflower University Press, 2002), 40, 83, 454. 61 Ibid, 457. 62 Granai, 57.


the poverty-stricken populace.63 Granai’s sympathiesextended so far that he even faced repercussions fromsuperiors. In other letters, Granai spoke of hiscommanding officers’ outrage in his sympathetictreatment of Italians, something that contradictedtheir desire to treat the Italians as a conqueredpeople.64

Rocco Siciliano also noted that his bilingualismcreated an interesting dynamic in his interactions withItalians. For Rocco, his bilingualism earned the respectand admiration of the local people. Although aseemingly minor detail in the context of their service,Rocco’s fellow servicemen benefited greatly from theseinteractions, especially when locating food duringextended travel. In the words of Siciliano, the Italiansprepared meals “to give to the Americanos, whom theyloved”—a fact that the rest of his company greatlyappreciated.65 For these soldiers, then, their Italianbackground produced unique and memorableexperiences with the Italian population. It was suchinteractions that created feelings of compassion andconcern.

From these accounts, the impact of the ItalianCampaign on these Italian American servicemen isclear. Although these men undoubtedly pridedthemselves in serving America, these accounts showthat their Italian identities factored tremendously intheir experience abroad. Their Italian backgroundcreated mixed emotions about fighting in the land oftheir ancestors and provided the opportunity to seek

63 Ibid, 49-50, 53, 58. 64 Granai, 44-45, 52. 65 Siciliano, 80.

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While not all Italian American servicemen spoke theItalian language, those that did undoubtedly foundnew and added responsibilities, given their ability tointeract and communicate with the native population.

The Italian identity not only impacted roles withinthe military, it also influenced many of theseservicemen’s interactions with Italian civilians. ForMichael Ingrisano, who served with the 37th TroopCarrier Squadron, the ability to speak the Italianlanguage created memorable experiences with those hemet. Whether it was with local chefs, barbers, or justthe average townsperson, the sight of an Americanspeaking the native language always drew theattention of a curious Italian, a result that made trulymemorable experiences with the Italian civilians.60 ForIngrisano, these memorable interactions createdfeelings of sympathy and pity for the Italian people. Ina letter penned in 1945, Ingrisano commented on theAmerican plans for rehabilitation of Italy. In hiswriting, Ingrisano hoped for a benevolent plan ofaction and expressed sympathy for the Italian people.61

Cornelius Granai detailed similar sentiments in letterssent home. In one letter written towards the end of thewar, Granai detailed the Italian people’s amazement inhis ability to communicate and understand them.62

Like Ingrisano, Granai also shared similar feelings ofsympathy and compassion towards those heencountered. In multiple letters, Granai advised hiswife to send clothes, shoes, and other supplies to aid

60 Michael N. Ingrisano, Jr. And Nothing is Said: WartimeLetters, August 5,1943-April 21, 1945 (Manhattan, KS:Sunflower University Press, 2002), 40, 83, 454. 61 Ibid, 457. 62 Granai, 57.


the poverty-stricken populace.63 Granai’s sympathiesextended so far that he even faced repercussions fromsuperiors. In other letters, Granai spoke of hiscommanding officers’ outrage in his sympathetictreatment of Italians, something that contradictedtheir desire to treat the Italians as a conqueredpeople.64

Rocco Siciliano also noted that his bilingualismcreated an interesting dynamic in his interactions withItalians. For Rocco, his bilingualism earned the respectand admiration of the local people. Although aseemingly minor detail in the context of their service,Rocco’s fellow servicemen benefited greatly from theseinteractions, especially when locating food duringextended travel. In the words of Siciliano, the Italiansprepared meals “to give to the Americanos, whom theyloved”—a fact that the rest of his company greatlyappreciated.65 For these soldiers, then, their Italianbackground produced unique and memorableexperiences with the Italian population. It was suchinteractions that created feelings of compassion andconcern.

From these accounts, the impact of the ItalianCampaign on these Italian American servicemen isclear. Although these men undoubtedly pridedthemselves in serving America, these accounts showthat their Italian identities factored tremendously intheir experience abroad. Their Italian backgroundcreated mixed emotions about fighting in the land oftheir ancestors and provided the opportunity to seek

63 Ibid, 49-50, 53, 58. 64 Granai, 44-45, 52. 65 Siciliano, 80.

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out unknown family in Italy, an opportunity that manyeven extended to friends back home. Furthermore,their familiarity with the Italian language providedthese servicemen with a foundation with which tointeract with the Italian populace. Particularly in therealm of communication, the ability to speak Italianpermitted these men to interact on a unique level withthe Italian people, creating truly meaningfulinteractions and admiration. From this examination,it is clear that Italian American soldiers were greatlyimpacted by their Italian identities during their servicein the Italian Campaign of the Second World War.

Conclusions

World War II unquestionably impacted the lives ofevery American citizen. For Italian Americans,however, this impact was unique and multifaceted.First and foremost, the war allowed Italian Americansto display an undeniable sense of American patriotism,an attitude that directly contradicted images of Italianespionage or treason. For Italian American men, thispatriotic identity rooted itself in military service asthousands Italian American men joined the ranks todefend their country. While the war created anenvironment to harness an American identity, thosestationed in Italy found their Italian backgroundplaying a meaningful role during their service. Formany, Italian ancestry fostered sentimental feelingsthat compelled them to seek out relatives still in Italy.Additionally, the ability to speak the Italian languageallowed for direct and meaningful interactions with theItalian people. Most importantly, this connection


cultivated mutual respect and admiration between thesoldiers and natives.

Thus, this analysis provides insights into many ofthe Italian American accounts involving ethnicprejudice and identity before and during the war,specifically with those Italian American men serving inItaly. Although this analysis provides only a smallglimpse into the experiences of Italian Americansduring World War II, it nevertheless provides anecessary contribution to the study of race, ethnicity,and identity during this historical period.

Dominic Rios is a senior at Santa Clara Universitypursuing a degree in History with a Political Scienceminor. Studying with an American History emphasis, heis particularly interested in the first half of the twentiethcentury--especially the years surrounding the two WorldWars. After graduation, Dominic will begin teaching inSan Diego through the Teach For America program.

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out unknown family in Italy, an opportunity that manyeven extended to friends back home. Furthermore,their familiarity with the Italian language providedthese servicemen with a foundation with which tointeract with the Italian populace. Particularly in therealm of communication, the ability to speak Italianpermitted these men to interact on a unique level withthe Italian people, creating truly meaningfulinteractions and admiration. From this examination,it is clear that Italian American soldiers were greatlyimpacted by their Italian identities during their servicein the Italian Campaign of the Second World War.

Conclusions

World War II unquestionably impacted the lives ofevery American citizen. For Italian Americans,however, this impact was unique and multifaceted.First and foremost, the war allowed Italian Americansto display an undeniable sense of American patriotism,an attitude that directly contradicted images of Italianespionage or treason. For Italian American men, thispatriotic identity rooted itself in military service asthousands Italian American men joined the ranks todefend their country. While the war created anenvironment to harness an American identity, thosestationed in Italy found their Italian backgroundplaying a meaningful role during their service. Formany, Italian ancestry fostered sentimental feelingsthat compelled them to seek out relatives still in Italy.Additionally, the ability to speak the Italian languageallowed for direct and meaningful interactions with theItalian people. Most importantly, this connection


cultivated mutual respect and admiration between thesoldiers and natives.

Thus, this analysis provides insights into many ofthe Italian American accounts involving ethnicprejudice and identity before and during the war,specifically with those Italian American men serving inItaly. Although this analysis provides only a smallglimpse into the experiences of Italian Americansduring World War II, it nevertheless provides anecessary contribution to the study of race, ethnicity,and identity during this historical period.

Dominic Rios is a senior at Santa Clara Universitypursuing a degree in History with a Political Scienceminor. Studying with an American History emphasis, heis particularly interested in the first half of the twentiethcentury--especially the years surrounding the two WorldWars. After graduation, Dominic will begin teaching inSan Diego through the Teach For America program.

202



Retaining the Crown 195

Retaining the Crown in the Face ofRefugee Crises: King Abdullah II

Kevin Laymoun

On the morning of May 14, 2011, hours after thefirst reported rockets had been fired in Talkalakh,Syria, thousands of Syrians flooded into neighboringcountries to escape what would become one of thebloodiest civil wars of the twenty-first century. In themidst of its own political turmoil, the HashemiteKingdom of Jordan was a target destination for manyof those fleeing the conflict in Syria. By early 2013, thenumber of Syrian refugees in Jordan had climbed to252,706, with 36,000 entering between January andearly February.1 With Jordan hosting preexistingPalestinian and Iraqi refugee populations, the additionof a third group, the Syrians, highlights the country’scontinued struggles with its role as a refugee state, aswell as the challenges of balancing the needs andexpectations of three different groups of displacedpeople.

Jordan’s central location in the Middle East hasmade it the target destination for those fleeing troublesin neighboring countries. The Israeli occupation, U.S.-led war in Iraq, and Syrian civil war have forcedrefugees from differing societal, cultural, and economicbackgrounds to cohabit the same land.2 The complex

1 “Syrian Regional Refugee Response,” UNHCR, February 12,2013. 2 Ilan Pappe, Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine (n.p.: Oneworld,2007). and Joseph Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugees: The New Crisisin the Middle East (London: I.B. Tauris), 2009. and


relationships that have arisen out of this uniquesituation have resulted in a clash of cultures andrights, as each group struggles with its own issues ofidentity. Amid the myriad issues surrounding therefugees in Jordan lies one important additional issue:the role of the country’s ruler, King Abdullah II, whohas struggled to maintain a national identity for acountry whose citizens are greatly outnumbered byrefugee populations. This paper argues that given therecent arrival of the Syrian refugees and the historicnationalist, economic, religious, and political tensionscaused by the preexisting Palestinian and Iraqipopulations, King Abdullah II’s past usage of his tribalpower base, parliamentary control, and theMukhabarat — secret police force, are the tactics hewill again employ in dealing with the three-part refugeecomplexity. His main goal, in all of this, is to promoteHashemite rule. To understand King Abdullah’sapproach to the Syrian refugee crisis, it is essential tofirst examine the challenges posed to Jordaniannationalism by the arrival of the Palestinian and Iraqipopulations, and the King’s methods for dealing withthese crises.

This paper builds on the work chronicling theexperiences of both the Palestinian and Iraqi refugeesin Jordan, and applies it to an understanding of theunfolding Syrian refugee situation. Since it assumedresponsibility for the West Bank territories at the ArabLeague conference of 1948, the Hashemite Kingdom ofJordan has been home to thousands of Palestinian

“Syria—Uprising and Civil War,” New York Times, accessedFebruary 13, 2013.

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Retaining the Crown in the Face ofRefugee Crises: King Abdullah II

Kevin Laymoun

On the morning of May 14, 2011, hours after thefirst reported rockets had been fired in Talkalakh,Syria, thousands of Syrians flooded into neighboringcountries to escape what would become one of thebloodiest civil wars of the twenty-first century. In themidst of its own political turmoil, the HashemiteKingdom of Jordan was a target destination for manyof those fleeing the conflict in Syria. By early 2013, thenumber of Syrian refugees in Jordan had climbed to252,706, with 36,000 entering between January andearly February.1 With Jordan hosting preexistingPalestinian and Iraqi refugee populations, the additionof a third group, the Syrians, highlights the country’scontinued struggles with its role as a refugee state, aswell as the challenges of balancing the needs andexpectations of three different groups of displacedpeople.

Jordan’s central location in the Middle East hasmade it the target destination for those fleeing troublesin neighboring countries. The Israeli occupation, U.S.-led war in Iraq, and Syrian civil war have forcedrefugees from differing societal, cultural, and economicbackgrounds to cohabit the same land.2 The complex

1 “Syrian Regional Refugee Response,” UNHCR, February 12,2013. 2 Ilan Pappe, Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine (n.p.: Oneworld,2007). and Joseph Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugees: The New Crisisin the Middle East (London: I.B. Tauris), 2009. and


relationships that have arisen out of this uniquesituation have resulted in a clash of cultures andrights, as each group struggles with its own issues ofidentity. Amid the myriad issues surrounding therefugees in Jordan lies one important additional issue:the role of the country’s ruler, King Abdullah II, whohas struggled to maintain a national identity for acountry whose citizens are greatly outnumbered byrefugee populations. This paper argues that given therecent arrival of the Syrian refugees and the historicnationalist, economic, religious, and political tensionscaused by the preexisting Palestinian and Iraqipopulations, King Abdullah II’s past usage of his tribalpower base, parliamentary control, and theMukhabarat — secret police force, are the tactics hewill again employ in dealing with the three-part refugeecomplexity. His main goal, in all of this, is to promoteHashemite rule. To understand King Abdullah’sapproach to the Syrian refugee crisis, it is essential tofirst examine the challenges posed to Jordaniannationalism by the arrival of the Palestinian and Iraqipopulations, and the King’s methods for dealing withthese crises.

This paper builds on the work chronicling theexperiences of both the Palestinian and Iraqi refugeesin Jordan, and applies it to an understanding of theunfolding Syrian refugee situation. Since it assumedresponsibility for the West Bank territories at the ArabLeague conference of 1948, the Hashemite Kingdom ofJordan has been home to thousands of Palestinian

“Syria—Uprising and Civil War,” New York Times, accessedFebruary 13, 2013.

204




refugees.3 According to Rex Honey and Jim A. Wilson,Palestinian-Jordanian refugees are unique due to theirpresence in Jordan since its birth as a state, whichresulted in their receiving citizenship.4 Honey andWilson explain that the displacement of thousands ofPalestinians from Palestine with the creation of thestate of Israel led to both the creation of modernJordan as well as to a short-term solution to thePalestinian refugee crisis.5 The denial of the right toreturn by Israel forced many Palestinians to remain inJordan permanently despite their desire to returnhome.6 As a result, the Palestinian population inJordan, despite having Jordanian citizenship, stillidentifies itself as Palestinian, and desires a return totheir original homeland.7 The Palestinian case of quasi-permanent refugee status in Jordan will be contrastedwith the case of the more recent, and, perhaps less-permanent, Iraqi and Syrian refugees. Historicalsources and media accounts discussing thePalestinian experience in Jordan will be used to buildan understanding of the issues this refugee group hasposed and continue to pose for the King.

The Iraqi example is particularly helpful inanalyzing the tactics the King used in dealing withrefugees in Jordan. Sassoon provides the most

3 Oroub Al Abed, “Palestinian refugees in Jordan,” FMO,(2004). 4 Rex Honey and Jim A. Wilson, "Planning in Jordan: Copingwith Uncertainty," GeoJournal 37, no. 1 (September 1995): [134],accessed January 22, 2013, JSTOR. 5 Ibid,. 6 Kamal S. Salibi, The Modern History of Jordan (London: I.B.Tauris, 1998), 165. 7 Ibid., 166.


comprehensive report on the Iraqi experience inJordan, especially of the negative reactions towardsthis refugee group by both Palestinians and the nativeJordanians, also referred to in this paper asTransjordanians. The difference between these twolatter groups will be discussed later. Sassoon identifiesdifferences between Palestinian and Iraqi refugeesituations, namely the difficulty in accuratelyassessing the Iraqi population: “What makes the Iraqirefugee crisis unique is the fact that many of therefugees were urban, educated middle class who fledto large urban areas, making it extremely difficult forhumanitarian agencies to provide the right servicesand to collate accurate information from an ‘invisible’refugee population.”8

In accounting for the lack of self-disclosure bymany unregistered Iraqis, Sassoon offers a moreaccurate context in which to examine the facts andfigures reported by Jordanian officials and NGOs.9

Sassoon also explains some similarities shared by theIraqis and Palestinians, namely that the Palestinians’failure to return home has made Jordan wary of whatmight become of the Iraqis.10 His resourceful use ofbarometric tools, such as interviews of Amman’s taxidrivers, are employed effectively to gauge political andcultural sentiment, and to explain the tensionsexisting between Iraqi refugees and their hostcountry.11 Since Sassoon released his book in 2009,the demographic data has changed, but updated

8 Joseph Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugees: The New Crisis in theMiddle East (London: I.B. Tauris, 2009), 5. 9 Ibid., 43. 10 Ibid., 6. 11 Ibid., 55.

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refugees.3 According to Rex Honey and Jim A. Wilson,Palestinian-Jordanian refugees are unique due to theirpresence in Jordan since its birth as a state, whichresulted in their receiving citizenship.4 Honey andWilson explain that the displacement of thousands ofPalestinians from Palestine with the creation of thestate of Israel led to both the creation of modernJordan as well as to a short-term solution to thePalestinian refugee crisis.5 The denial of the right toreturn by Israel forced many Palestinians to remain inJordan permanently despite their desire to returnhome.6 As a result, the Palestinian population inJordan, despite having Jordanian citizenship, stillidentifies itself as Palestinian, and desires a return totheir original homeland.7 The Palestinian case of quasi-permanent refugee status in Jordan will be contrastedwith the case of the more recent, and, perhaps less-permanent, Iraqi and Syrian refugees. Historicalsources and media accounts discussing thePalestinian experience in Jordan will be used to buildan understanding of the issues this refugee group hasposed and continue to pose for the King.

The Iraqi example is particularly helpful inanalyzing the tactics the King used in dealing withrefugees in Jordan. Sassoon provides the most

3 Oroub Al Abed, “Palestinian refugees in Jordan,” FMO,(2004). 4 Rex Honey and Jim A. Wilson, "Planning in Jordan: Copingwith Uncertainty," GeoJournal 37, no. 1 (September 1995): [134],accessed January 22, 2013, JSTOR. 5 Ibid,. 6 Kamal S. Salibi, The Modern History of Jordan (London: I.B.Tauris, 1998), 165. 7 Ibid., 166.


comprehensive report on the Iraqi experience inJordan, especially of the negative reactions towardsthis refugee group by both Palestinians and the nativeJordanians, also referred to in this paper asTransjordanians. The difference between these twolatter groups will be discussed later. Sassoon identifiesdifferences between Palestinian and Iraqi refugeesituations, namely the difficulty in accuratelyassessing the Iraqi population: “What makes the Iraqirefugee crisis unique is the fact that many of therefugees were urban, educated middle class who fledto large urban areas, making it extremely difficult forhumanitarian agencies to provide the right servicesand to collate accurate information from an ‘invisible’refugee population.”8

In accounting for the lack of self-disclosure bymany unregistered Iraqis, Sassoon offers a moreaccurate context in which to examine the facts andfigures reported by Jordanian officials and NGOs.9

Sassoon also explains some similarities shared by theIraqis and Palestinians, namely that the Palestinians’failure to return home has made Jordan wary of whatmight become of the Iraqis.10 His resourceful use ofbarometric tools, such as interviews of Amman’s taxidrivers, are employed effectively to gauge political andcultural sentiment, and to explain the tensionsexisting between Iraqi refugees and their hostcountry.11 Since Sassoon released his book in 2009,the demographic data has changed, but updated

8 Joseph Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugees: The New Crisis in theMiddle East (London: I.B. Tauris, 2009), 5. 9 Ibid., 43. 10 Ibid., 6. 11 Ibid., 55.

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figures regarding refugee registration, averagehousehold income, and the number of Iraqi refugees inJordan are available from the United Nations HighCommissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).12 Along withother scholarly sources and opinion pieces, Sassoon’scultural observations regarding Iraqi refugees inJordan offers insight into the challenges that Iraqirefugees pose to King Abdullah’s nationalist agenda.

Because the introduction of the Syrian refugeepopulation to Jordan is so recent, a comprehensiveanalysis of the group has yet to emerge. As the Syrianrefugee experience unfolds, UNHCR reports, op-edpieces, and media accounts will provide a variedaccount of the emerging issues and problems thataccompany yet another refugee group to Jordan.

The Monarchy and Refugees

Before examining the issue of refugee arrival inJordan, it is important to understand the definition ofa refugee used in this paper. The term “refugee” isoften employed as a blanket-term in reference to allmanner of displaced people, but this generalapplication of the term distorts the scope of thediscussion. According to the UNHCR, a refugee is aperson “who has been forced to leave his or hercountry because of persecution, war, or violence.”13

12 "Jordan: 2013 UNHCR Country Operations Profile," UnitedNations High Commissioner for Refugees, last modified 2013,accessed March 19, 2013, http://www.unhcr.org/cgi-bin/texis/vtx/page?page=49e486566&submit=GO. 13 “What is a Refugee?," UNHCR, last modified 2013,accessed March 19, 2013,http://www.unrefugees.org/site/c.lfIQKSOwFqG/b.4950731/k.


This definition is useful in understanding the commonusage of the term refugee. Moreover, Article 1 of the1951 United Nations Convention Relating to the Statusof Refugees offers a legal definition:

[The term ‘refugee’ shall apply to any personwho] owing to well-founded fear of beingpersecuted for reasons of race, religion,nationality, membership of a particular socialgroup or political opinion, is outside thecountry of his nationality and is unable or,owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himselfof the protection of that country; or who, nothaving a nationality and being outside thecountry of his former habitual residence as aresult of such events, is unable, or owing tosuch fear, is unwilling to return to it.14

While the parties discussed in this paper do notuniversally accept this definition, to avoid theconfusion that accompanies such a debate, the termrefugee will be used here to refer to the groups ofpeople who were, for whatever reason, compelled toleave their native country and settle in the HashemiteKingdom of Jordan. Apart from providing a legaldefinition for the term refugee, the UN Convention of1951 outlined both the rights and obligations of thehost state as part of its agreement. The states thatsigned the 1951 agreement acknowledged a set of

A894/What_is_a_refugee.htm. 14 United Nations General Assembly, Resolution2198,“Convention and Protocol Relating to the Status ofRefugees,” April 22,1954,http://www.unhcr.org/3b66c2aa10.html.

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figures regarding refugee registration, averagehousehold income, and the number of Iraqi refugees inJordan are available from the United Nations HighCommissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).12 Along withother scholarly sources and opinion pieces, Sassoon’scultural observations regarding Iraqi refugees inJordan offers insight into the challenges that Iraqirefugees pose to King Abdullah’s nationalist agenda.

Because the introduction of the Syrian refugeepopulation to Jordan is so recent, a comprehensiveanalysis of the group has yet to emerge. As the Syrianrefugee experience unfolds, UNHCR reports, op-edpieces, and media accounts will provide a variedaccount of the emerging issues and problems thataccompany yet another refugee group to Jordan.

The Monarchy and Refugees

Before examining the issue of refugee arrival inJordan, it is important to understand the definition ofa refugee used in this paper. The term “refugee” isoften employed as a blanket-term in reference to allmanner of displaced people, but this generalapplication of the term distorts the scope of thediscussion. According to the UNHCR, a refugee is aperson “who has been forced to leave his or hercountry because of persecution, war, or violence.”13

12 "Jordan: 2013 UNHCR Country Operations Profile," UnitedNations High Commissioner for Refugees, last modified 2013,accessed March 19, 2013, http://www.unhcr.org/cgi-bin/texis/vtx/page?page=49e486566&submit=GO. 13 “What is a Refugee?," UNHCR, last modified 2013,accessed March 19, 2013,http://www.unrefugees.org/site/c.lfIQKSOwFqG/b.4950731/k.


This definition is useful in understanding the commonusage of the term refugee. Moreover, Article 1 of the1951 United Nations Convention Relating to the Statusof Refugees offers a legal definition:

[The term ‘refugee’ shall apply to any personwho] owing to well-founded fear of beingpersecuted for reasons of race, religion,nationality, membership of a particular socialgroup or political opinion, is outside thecountry of his nationality and is unable or,owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himselfof the protection of that country; or who, nothaving a nationality and being outside thecountry of his former habitual residence as aresult of such events, is unable, or owing tosuch fear, is unwilling to return to it.14

While the parties discussed in this paper do notuniversally accept this definition, to avoid theconfusion that accompanies such a debate, the termrefugee will be used here to refer to the groups ofpeople who were, for whatever reason, compelled toleave their native country and settle in the HashemiteKingdom of Jordan. Apart from providing a legaldefinition for the term refugee, the UN Convention of1951 outlined both the rights and obligations of thehost state as part of its agreement. The states thatsigned the 1951 agreement acknowledged a set of

A894/What_is_a_refugee.htm. 14 United Nations General Assembly, Resolution2198,“Convention and Protocol Relating to the Status ofRefugees,” April 22,1954,http://www.unhcr.org/3b66c2aa10.html.

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refugee rights that grant, among them, freedom ofreligion, movement, the right to work, and accessibilityto travel documents. Most importantly, signatoriesagreed to non-refoulement, or the principle of notreturning refugees to countries in which they fearpersecution.15 Jordan has refused to sign thedocument and is not bound by its bylaws; this fact isespecially important as it reflects the country’s view ofits refugee population.

Jordan characterizes any refugees residing in thecountry as “guests” of the King and thus subject to anytreatment deemed suitable by the government.16

Adding to the terminological confusion, the majority ofIraqis in Jordan reject the label of “refugee,” given itsconnotations of helplessness. Instead, these groupsprefer the term “traveler.”17 The debate overterminology dates back to the wave of Palestinianrefugees taken in by Jordan in 1948, who were viewedas temporary citizens.18 However, the Palestinians werenever able to return to their native land. Thesubsequent granting of full citizenship rights to thisrefugee group transformed the ethnic balance ofJordan. Consequently, it was the goal of KingAbdullah’s great grandfather to avoid another suchoccurrence by renouncing any legal obligation towardsrefugee groups.

Before discussing the history behind the ethnic andnational tensions within Jordanian society, it is

15 Ibid. 16 Mohamed Y. Owlan, “The Legal Framework of ForcedMigration,” American University in Cairo Egypt, October 23-25,2007. 17 Sassoon, The Iraq Refugees, 154. 18 Salibi, The Modern History of Jordan, 165.


necessary to note first the nature of the country’sleadership. Trans-Jordan began as a British mandate,and then became the sovereign state of Jordan in April1949, at which time King Abdullah I assumed the titleof King of Jordan.19 After his assassination in 1951,Abdullah I’s son Talal promulgated a constitution onJanuary 1, 1952 that called for the creation of aparliament and government, with the King acting as aconstitutional monarch.20 The constitution of 1952remains the legal basis of the country, and it speaks tothe absolute authority of the King in Article 30: “TheKing is the Head of State and is immune to anyliability and responsibility.”21 It is important to notethe level of control that belongs to the King within thistype of system: he selects both the Prime Minister andthe entire Senate. While the Senate is half the size ofthe House of Representatives, while elected, bothhouses need to have a two-thirds majority to over-rulethe King’s veto power. Moreover, the House ofRepresentatives, while elected, has been skewed toreflect greater representation amongst the districtswith tribal allegiance to the King’s Hashemite clan,thus awarding the King almost total control overgovernmental and legislative affairs.22 The issues ofpolitical control will be addressed in greater depth laterin this paper. The extent to which the King influencespolicy and government affairs under the Jordanian

19 Ibid., 153. 20 Ibid., 178. 21 "The Constitution of The Hashemite Kingdom of JordanJanuary 1, 1952," The Library, accessed March 19, 2013,http://www.kinghussein.gov.jo/constitution_jo.html. 22 Curtis Ryan, "Reform Retreats Amid Jordan's PoliticalStorms," Middle East Report, June 10, 2005.

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refugee rights that grant, among them, freedom ofreligion, movement, the right to work, and accessibilityto travel documents. Most importantly, signatoriesagreed to non-refoulement, or the principle of notreturning refugees to countries in which they fearpersecution.15 Jordan has refused to sign thedocument and is not bound by its bylaws; this fact isespecially important as it reflects the country’s view ofits refugee population.

Jordan characterizes any refugees residing in thecountry as “guests” of the King and thus subject to anytreatment deemed suitable by the government.16

Adding to the terminological confusion, the majority ofIraqis in Jordan reject the label of “refugee,” given itsconnotations of helplessness. Instead, these groupsprefer the term “traveler.”17 The debate overterminology dates back to the wave of Palestinianrefugees taken in by Jordan in 1948, who were viewedas temporary citizens.18 However, the Palestinians werenever able to return to their native land. Thesubsequent granting of full citizenship rights to thisrefugee group transformed the ethnic balance ofJordan. Consequently, it was the goal of KingAbdullah’s great grandfather to avoid another suchoccurrence by renouncing any legal obligation towardsrefugee groups.

Before discussing the history behind the ethnic andnational tensions within Jordanian society, it is

15 Ibid. 16 Mohamed Y. Owlan, “The Legal Framework of ForcedMigration,” American University in Cairo Egypt, October 23-25,2007. 17 Sassoon, The Iraq Refugees, 154. 18 Salibi, The Modern History of Jordan, 165.


necessary to note first the nature of the country’sleadership. Trans-Jordan began as a British mandate,and then became the sovereign state of Jordan in April1949, at which time King Abdullah I assumed the titleof King of Jordan.19 After his assassination in 1951,Abdullah I’s son Talal promulgated a constitution onJanuary 1, 1952 that called for the creation of aparliament and government, with the King acting as aconstitutional monarch.20 The constitution of 1952remains the legal basis of the country, and it speaks tothe absolute authority of the King in Article 30: “TheKing is the Head of State and is immune to anyliability and responsibility.”21 It is important to notethe level of control that belongs to the King within thistype of system: he selects both the Prime Minister andthe entire Senate. While the Senate is half the size ofthe House of Representatives, while elected, bothhouses need to have a two-thirds majority to over-rulethe King’s veto power. Moreover, the House ofRepresentatives, while elected, has been skewed toreflect greater representation amongst the districtswith tribal allegiance to the King’s Hashemite clan,thus awarding the King almost total control overgovernmental and legislative affairs.22 The issues ofpolitical control will be addressed in greater depth laterin this paper. The extent to which the King influencespolicy and government affairs under the Jordanian

19 Ibid., 153. 20 Ibid., 178. 21 "The Constitution of The Hashemite Kingdom of JordanJanuary 1, 1952," The Library, accessed March 19, 2013,http://www.kinghussein.gov.jo/constitution_jo.html. 22 Curtis Ryan, "Reform Retreats Amid Jordan's PoliticalStorms," Middle East Report, June 10, 2005.

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legal system parallels the tactics used to manage therefugee populations as well, and reflects the will ofKing Abdullah II.

The Palestinian Example

The problems that Palestinian refugees pose toJordan are based in the history of the relationshipbetween the refugee group and the state. As notedabove, the Palestinians arrived in the West Bank in1948 following the Al-Nakba, or catastrophe, in whichthe Israeli Army occupied villages across what wasknown as Palestine, forcing roughly 700,000Palestinians to flee.23 Once Trans-Jordan annexed theWest Bank in 1950, the Palestinian refugees living inthat region gained full citizenship as part of a deal thatKing Abdullah I made with Palestinian ministers inreturn for guardianship of East Jerusalem.24 Followingthe 1967 War, Israel occupied the West Bank, forcingthousands of Palestinians into the East Bank and whatis today modern Jordan. With the influx of roughly400,000 more Palestinians into the East Bank,Palestinians constituted more than half of Jordan’spopulation after 1967.25

One result of the 1967 War was the emergence ofthe fedayeen, a group of Palestinian resistance fightersliving in Jordan. The fedayeen fought the Israeli

23 "United Nations Conciliation Commission for Palestine,"United Nations on the Question of Palestine, accessed March 19,2013,http://unispal.un.org/UNISPAL.NSF/0/EE6BDACAD5A0229385257508007CFEA4. 24 Salibi, The Modern History of Jordan, 165. 25 Ibid., 3, 224.


occupying forces from border towns, but were based inIrbid, a town in the north of Jordan.26 While KingHussein, King Abdullah II’s father, was pressed by theArab countries to militarily back the Palestinianresistance fighters, he feared that his involvementmight provoke the Israeli Army to invade his country.Several battles took place between the fedayeen andthe Israeli Army, most notably the Battle of Karameh,in which Israeli forces crossed into Jordan and clashedwith Jordanian and fedayeen troops. By mid-1970,King Hussein feared he had lost control of his countryas the fedayeen began operating as “a state within astate.” In an effort to reaffirm control of his country,King Hussein ordered an all-out assault on thefedayeen in the country. King Hussein and theJordanian Armed Forces eventually won the civil warknown as “Black September,” but the bloody eventsleft a deep cultural resentment between“Transjordanians,” or native Jordanians, andPalestinian-Jordanians.27 Salibi explains that eventslike Black September prove that the Palestinians’continued devotion, both perceived and real, to theirnative Palestine has often put them at odds with thenationalist-minded monarchy and Bedouin tribes thatmake up the population of indigenous Jordanians.28

The events of Black September highlighted theemergence of two major positions taken by KingHussein. The first was the King’s political and militaryreliance on the rural Bedouin tribes that both

26 Ibid., 186. 27 Ibid., 237. 28 Mudar Zahran, “Jordan Is Palestine,” Middle EastQuarterly, (Winter 2012): 3-12.

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legal system parallels the tactics used to manage therefugee populations as well, and reflects the will ofKing Abdullah II.

The Palestinian Example

The problems that Palestinian refugees pose toJordan are based in the history of the relationshipbetween the refugee group and the state. As notedabove, the Palestinians arrived in the West Bank in1948 following the Al-Nakba, or catastrophe, in whichthe Israeli Army occupied villages across what wasknown as Palestine, forcing roughly 700,000Palestinians to flee.23 Once Trans-Jordan annexed theWest Bank in 1950, the Palestinian refugees living inthat region gained full citizenship as part of a deal thatKing Abdullah I made with Palestinian ministers inreturn for guardianship of East Jerusalem.24 Followingthe 1967 War, Israel occupied the West Bank, forcingthousands of Palestinians into the East Bank and whatis today modern Jordan. With the influx of roughly400,000 more Palestinians into the East Bank,Palestinians constituted more than half of Jordan’spopulation after 1967.25

One result of the 1967 War was the emergence ofthe fedayeen, a group of Palestinian resistance fightersliving in Jordan. The fedayeen fought the Israeli

23 "United Nations Conciliation Commission for Palestine,"United Nations on the Question of Palestine, accessed March 19,2013,http://unispal.un.org/UNISPAL.NSF/0/EE6BDACAD5A0229385257508007CFEA4. 24 Salibi, The Modern History of Jordan, 165. 25 Ibid., 3, 224.


occupying forces from border towns, but were based inIrbid, a town in the north of Jordan.26 While KingHussein, King Abdullah II’s father, was pressed by theArab countries to militarily back the Palestinianresistance fighters, he feared that his involvementmight provoke the Israeli Army to invade his country.Several battles took place between the fedayeen andthe Israeli Army, most notably the Battle of Karameh,in which Israeli forces crossed into Jordan and clashedwith Jordanian and fedayeen troops. By mid-1970,King Hussein feared he had lost control of his countryas the fedayeen began operating as “a state within astate.” In an effort to reaffirm control of his country,King Hussein ordered an all-out assault on thefedayeen in the country. King Hussein and theJordanian Armed Forces eventually won the civil warknown as “Black September,” but the bloody eventsleft a deep cultural resentment between“Transjordanians,” or native Jordanians, andPalestinian-Jordanians.27 Salibi explains that eventslike Black September prove that the Palestinians’continued devotion, both perceived and real, to theirnative Palestine has often put them at odds with thenationalist-minded monarchy and Bedouin tribes thatmake up the population of indigenous Jordanians.28

The events of Black September highlighted theemergence of two major positions taken by KingHussein. The first was the King’s political and militaryreliance on the rural Bedouin tribes that both

26 Ibid., 186. 27 Ibid., 237. 28 Mudar Zahran, “Jordan Is Palestine,” Middle EastQuarterly, (Winter 2012): 3-12.

212




supported and fought for his regime against thePalestinian resistance. The second was the enduringskepticism with which the King viewed Palestinians, aview that manifests itself in his politicalmarginalization of the group.

Black September and the policy shifts it producedunder King Hussein were passed to King Abdullah IIwhen he inherited the throne in 1999, and are evidentin the latter’s dealings with the Palestinian populationsince then. In October 2000, on the heels of the secondIntifada—the collective uprising of the Palestiniansunder Israeli occupation—protests broke out inAmman and other parts of Jordan in support of thePalestinian cause. King Abdullah responded bysuspending Parliament on June 13, 2001, ahead of thescheduled elections, and implementing 125“temporary” laws aimed at quelling political dissent.29

One such law made it illegal to criticize “friendlynations,” a law that, as a result of Jordan’s 1994 treatywith Israel, clearly targeted the groups protesting theJordanian government’s lack of support for the secondIntifada.30 As his late father had done, King Abdullahtreated the largely Palestinian protestors withconsiderable hostility, and moved quickly to quash anywould-be movements that might run counter toJordanian nationalist interests.

To this day tensions remain high, as Palestinianshave increasingly come to resent the measures takenby the King to diminish their impact on Jordanian

29 Jillian Schwedler, “More than a Mob: The Dynamic ofPolitical Demonstrations in Jordan,” Middle East Research andInformation Project 226 (2003): 19. 30 Ibid., 20.


affairs. Mudar Zahran characterizes the Palestinianpopulation in Jordan as a “ticking bomb” that isresentful of its lack of representation in Parliamentdespite representing a majority of the population.31 Inhis article on Jordanian political reform, Greenwoodargues that electoral laws passed by the crown serve toengender support amongst its most importantconstituent: “[The] House of Hashim has sought toreward its Transjordanian supporters with public jobsand subsidies […] these efforts [have] givenTransjordanians a greater voice in local and nationalpolitics […and] have also enabled East Bank tribes andclans to secure more public jobs, spending, andservices […].”32

The Palestinian refugee population protested theirpolitical marginalization under King Hussein even afterthey gained some representation in Parliament underlaws passed by the previous regime. King Abdullah,during the period when he suspended Parliament in2001, passed an electoral law that, “like the old law,[…] continues to rely on the principle of ‘one person,one vote’ and also over-represents the rural areasheavily populated by Transjordanians.”33 By grantingmore representatives to a larger number of ruraldistricts, King Abdullah effectively nullified anyPalestinian representation in Parliament. Recentevidence of King Abdullah’s commitment to the

31 Mudar Zahran, "Jordan is Palestine," The Middle EastQuarterly 19 (Winter 2012): accessed March 19, 2013,http://www.meforum.org/3121/jordan-is-palestinian. 32 Scott Greenwood, "Jordan’s ‘New Bargain:’ The PoliticalEconomy of Regime Security," Middle East Journal 57 (Spring2003): 252-259, accessed March 19, 2013, JSTOR. 33 Ibid., 264.

213




supported and fought for his regime against thePalestinian resistance. The second was the enduringskepticism with which the King viewed Palestinians, aview that manifests itself in his politicalmarginalization of the group.

Black September and the policy shifts it producedunder King Hussein were passed to King Abdullah IIwhen he inherited the throne in 1999, and are evidentin the latter’s dealings with the Palestinian populationsince then. In October 2000, on the heels of the secondIntifada—the collective uprising of the Palestiniansunder Israeli occupation—protests broke out inAmman and other parts of Jordan in support of thePalestinian cause. King Abdullah responded bysuspending Parliament on June 13, 2001, ahead of thescheduled elections, and implementing 125“temporary” laws aimed at quelling political dissent.29

One such law made it illegal to criticize “friendlynations,” a law that, as a result of Jordan’s 1994 treatywith Israel, clearly targeted the groups protesting theJordanian government’s lack of support for the secondIntifada.30 As his late father had done, King Abdullahtreated the largely Palestinian protestors withconsiderable hostility, and moved quickly to quash anywould-be movements that might run counter toJordanian nationalist interests.

To this day tensions remain high, as Palestinianshave increasingly come to resent the measures takenby the King to diminish their impact on Jordanian

29 Jillian Schwedler, “More than a Mob: The Dynamic ofPolitical Demonstrations in Jordan,” Middle East Research andInformation Project 226 (2003): 19. 30 Ibid., 20.


affairs. Mudar Zahran characterizes the Palestinianpopulation in Jordan as a “ticking bomb” that isresentful of its lack of representation in Parliamentdespite representing a majority of the population.31 Inhis article on Jordanian political reform, Greenwoodargues that electoral laws passed by the crown serve toengender support amongst its most importantconstituent: “[The] House of Hashim has sought toreward its Transjordanian supporters with public jobsand subsidies […] these efforts [have] givenTransjordanians a greater voice in local and nationalpolitics […and] have also enabled East Bank tribes andclans to secure more public jobs, spending, andservices […].”32

The Palestinian refugee population protested theirpolitical marginalization under King Hussein even afterthey gained some representation in Parliament underlaws passed by the previous regime. King Abdullah,during the period when he suspended Parliament in2001, passed an electoral law that, “like the old law,[…] continues to rely on the principle of ‘one person,one vote’ and also over-represents the rural areasheavily populated by Transjordanians.”33 By grantingmore representatives to a larger number of ruraldistricts, King Abdullah effectively nullified anyPalestinian representation in Parliament. Recentevidence of King Abdullah’s commitment to the

31 Mudar Zahran, "Jordan is Palestine," The Middle EastQuarterly 19 (Winter 2012): accessed March 19, 2013,http://www.meforum.org/3121/jordan-is-palestinian. 32 Scott Greenwood, "Jordan’s ‘New Bargain:’ The PoliticalEconomy of Regime Security," Middle East Journal 57 (Spring2003): 252-259, accessed March 19, 2013, JSTOR. 33 Ibid., 264.

214




maintenance of a controlled Palestinian population isthat he instructed officials to reject Palestinianrefugees at the border who were fleeing the Syrianconflict so as to not add to the current imbalance ofPalestinian and Transjordanians in the country, amove that could tip the balance of power.34

In addition to the political tensions, ethnic conflictbetween Palestinian and Transjordanian groups havebeen sources of concern for the King. King Abdullah’swife, Queen Rania, is a Palestinian and has recentlybeen the target of insults by Bedouin groups whoprotest her inclusion in the royal family.35 Largelydriven by the lingering effects of Black September,many Transjordanians see her position of authority asa justification of their fears that Palestinians aregaining too much power in the Kingdom.

Serving as an example for the Transjordanianskepticism of Jordan’s Palestinian population are theKing’s exclusionary edicts regarding Palestinianinvolvement in the Jordanian government, army, andMukhabarat. The government is comprised primarily ofTransjordanians, who, for both tribal-lineage and self-serving reasons, are fiercely loyal to the crown. TheTransjordanian population, which is largely rural andBedouin, resents Palestinians for their devotion to the

34 Ruth Eglash, "'Jordan rejecting Palestinian refugees fromSyria,'" The Jerusalem Post (Israel), July 4, 2012, accessedMarch 19, 2013,http://www.jpost.com/MiddleEast/Article.aspx?id=276261. 35 Ian Black, "Queen Rania Still in Shadows as Jordan PlaysWaiting Game," The Guardian (Amman, Jordan), May 11, 2012,accessed March 19, 2013,http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/may/11/queen-rania-jordan-waiting-game.


retrieval of their lost state, but also for their dominantposition in the private business sector. LaszloCsicsmann characterizes the King’s apprehensionstowards the Palestinian population:

The private sector of the Jordanian economy isdominated by Palestinians […]. The maindilemma for the Hashemite dynasty is to decidewhether the Palestinians will support the statusquo, vis-à-vis the regime or will challenge thelegitimacy of the current system by using theireconomic assets.36

The King’s distrust of the economically viablePalestinian population, coupled with theTransjordanian need for economic support, hascreated a symbiotic relationship with theTransjordanian population in which the King receiveslegitimacy and support in return for granting nativeJordanians exclusive privilege to government jobs andpolitical posts. A key element in this relationship is theJordanian Army, which is completely Transjordanian,since the army’s total allegiance to the King isessential to the security of his regime.37 The practice ofmaintaining a Bedouin army with no Palestinianmembership reflects the lingering trepidation left fromthe events of Black September. However, apart fromproviding insurance against any would-be Palestinianmilitary coup, the exclusion of Palestinians from the

36 Laszlo Csicsmann, "Responsible Freedom and NationalSecurity," Society and Economy 29, no. 1 (April 2007): 108,accessed March 20, 2013, JSTOR. 37Zahran, "Jordan Is Palestine."

215




maintenance of a controlled Palestinian population isthat he instructed officials to reject Palestinianrefugees at the border who were fleeing the Syrianconflict so as to not add to the current imbalance ofPalestinian and Transjordanians in the country, amove that could tip the balance of power.34

In addition to the political tensions, ethnic conflictbetween Palestinian and Transjordanian groups havebeen sources of concern for the King. King Abdullah’swife, Queen Rania, is a Palestinian and has recentlybeen the target of insults by Bedouin groups whoprotest her inclusion in the royal family.35 Largelydriven by the lingering effects of Black September,many Transjordanians see her position of authority asa justification of their fears that Palestinians aregaining too much power in the Kingdom.

Serving as an example for the Transjordanianskepticism of Jordan’s Palestinian population are theKing’s exclusionary edicts regarding Palestinianinvolvement in the Jordanian government, army, andMukhabarat. The government is comprised primarily ofTransjordanians, who, for both tribal-lineage and self-serving reasons, are fiercely loyal to the crown. TheTransjordanian population, which is largely rural andBedouin, resents Palestinians for their devotion to the

34 Ruth Eglash, "'Jordan rejecting Palestinian refugees fromSyria,'" The Jerusalem Post (Israel), July 4, 2012, accessedMarch 19, 2013,http://www.jpost.com/MiddleEast/Article.aspx?id=276261. 35 Ian Black, "Queen Rania Still in Shadows as Jordan PlaysWaiting Game," The Guardian (Amman, Jordan), May 11, 2012,accessed March 19, 2013,http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/may/11/queen-rania-jordan-waiting-game.


retrieval of their lost state, but also for their dominantposition in the private business sector. LaszloCsicsmann characterizes the King’s apprehensionstowards the Palestinian population:

The private sector of the Jordanian economy isdominated by Palestinians […]. The maindilemma for the Hashemite dynasty is to decidewhether the Palestinians will support the statusquo, vis-à-vis the regime or will challenge thelegitimacy of the current system by using theireconomic assets.36

The King’s distrust of the economically viablePalestinian population, coupled with theTransjordanian need for economic support, hascreated a symbiotic relationship with theTransjordanian population in which the King receiveslegitimacy and support in return for granting nativeJordanians exclusive privilege to government jobs andpolitical posts. A key element in this relationship is theJordanian Army, which is completely Transjordanian,since the army’s total allegiance to the King isessential to the security of his regime.37 The practice ofmaintaining a Bedouin army with no Palestinianmembership reflects the lingering trepidation left fromthe events of Black September. However, apart fromproviding insurance against any would-be Palestinianmilitary coup, the exclusion of Palestinians from the

36 Laszlo Csicsmann, "Responsible Freedom and NationalSecurity," Society and Economy 29, no. 1 (April 2007): 108,accessed March 20, 2013, JSTOR. 37Zahran, "Jordan Is Palestine."

216




army also serves to economically marginalize therefugee population, as some of the country’s highestsalaries and greatest benefits are reserved for membersof the army.38

The Jordanian Mukhabarat represent anotherresource that is invaluable to the King in controllingdissidents in his kingdom. Like the army, the agency’smembership is exclusively Transjordanian. TheMukhabarat is one of the largest intelligence programsin the world in relation to its country’s totalpopulation.39 Notoriously brutal, the Mukhabaratenforce King Abdullah’s rule at the street level byusing an intricate and extensive network ofinformants; it also collaborates with foreignintelligence agencies to squelch any subversivemovements.40 The influence of the Mukhabarat mustnot be overlooked: besides providing intelligence, theagency plays a key role in elections and publicdiscourse. Mahmoud A. al-Kharabesheh, a formerdirector of the Mukhabarat, explains: “SomeParliament members allow the mukhabarat [sic] tointervene in how they vote because they depend onthem for help in getting re-elected.”41 The former

38 "Assessment for Palestinians in Jordan," Minorities atRisk, last modified December 31, 2006, accessed March 20,2013,http://www.cidcm.umd.edu/mar/assessment.asp?groupId=66302. 39Zahran, “Jordan Is Palestine.” 40 Neil MacFarquhar, "Heavy Hand of Secret Police ImpedingReform in Arab World," New York Times (Amman, Jordan),November 14, 2005, accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/14/international/middleeast/14jordan.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0.

41 Ibid.


director also notes that the agency is involved in “90percent” of the political affairs of the country.Furthermore, the Mukhabarat functions to deterdiscourse that is critical of the King by imprisoninganyone who makes comments deemed unacceptable tothe crown.42 The hard line that the Mukhabarat takeon criticism of the crown or national policies has beenenforced thoroughly, as seen in the many instances ofJordanians being whisked away for questioningregarding remarks they have made or areas they havevisited.43

With each challenge that the Palestinian refugeeshave posed to Jordanian nationalism and the authorityof the Hashemite crown, King Abdullah, like his latefather, has relied on his Transjordanian constituency’sroles in the government, army, and Mukhabarat topromote allegiance to Jordan, and simultaneously hislegitimacy as king.

The Iraqi Example

On the heels of the 2003 United States invasion ofIraq, thousands of Iraqis flooded into Jordan, addingto the complexities of Jordanian society. Though hesupported the US “war on terror” in Afghanistan, KingAbdullah faced a difficult diplomatic circumstanceposed by a US war with Iraq. Torn between his strongdependence on US aid to his country and a largedomestic sympathy for Iraq, King Abdullah was once

42 "'A Sad Day for Freedom of Expression,'" Al-Ahram Weekly(Cairo, Egypt), May 23, 2002, 587th edition, accessed March 20,2013, http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2002/587/re7.htm. 43 MacFarquhar, "Heavy Hand of Secret."

217




army also serves to economically marginalize therefugee population, as some of the country’s highestsalaries and greatest benefits are reserved for membersof the army.38

The Jordanian Mukhabarat represent anotherresource that is invaluable to the King in controllingdissidents in his kingdom. Like the army, the agency’smembership is exclusively Transjordanian. TheMukhabarat is one of the largest intelligence programsin the world in relation to its country’s totalpopulation.39 Notoriously brutal, the Mukhabaratenforce King Abdullah’s rule at the street level byusing an intricate and extensive network ofinformants; it also collaborates with foreignintelligence agencies to squelch any subversivemovements.40 The influence of the Mukhabarat mustnot be overlooked: besides providing intelligence, theagency plays a key role in elections and publicdiscourse. Mahmoud A. al-Kharabesheh, a formerdirector of the Mukhabarat, explains: “SomeParliament members allow the mukhabarat [sic] tointervene in how they vote because they depend onthem for help in getting re-elected.”41 The former

38 "Assessment for Palestinians in Jordan," Minorities atRisk, last modified December 31, 2006, accessed March 20,2013,http://www.cidcm.umd.edu/mar/assessment.asp?groupId=66302. 39Zahran, “Jordan Is Palestine.” 40 Neil MacFarquhar, "Heavy Hand of Secret Police ImpedingReform in Arab World," New York Times (Amman, Jordan),November 14, 2005, accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/14/international/middleeast/14jordan.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0.

41 Ibid.


director also notes that the agency is involved in “90percent” of the political affairs of the country.Furthermore, the Mukhabarat functions to deterdiscourse that is critical of the King by imprisoninganyone who makes comments deemed unacceptable tothe crown.42 The hard line that the Mukhabarat takeon criticism of the crown or national policies has beenenforced thoroughly, as seen in the many instances ofJordanians being whisked away for questioningregarding remarks they have made or areas they havevisited.43

With each challenge that the Palestinian refugeeshave posed to Jordanian nationalism and the authorityof the Hashemite crown, King Abdullah, like his latefather, has relied on his Transjordanian constituency’sroles in the government, army, and Mukhabarat topromote allegiance to Jordan, and simultaneously hislegitimacy as king.

The Iraqi Example

On the heels of the 2003 United States invasion ofIraq, thousands of Iraqis flooded into Jordan, addingto the complexities of Jordanian society. Though hesupported the US “war on terror” in Afghanistan, KingAbdullah faced a difficult diplomatic circumstanceposed by a US war with Iraq. Torn between his strongdependence on US aid to his country and a largedomestic sympathy for Iraq, King Abdullah was once

42 "'A Sad Day for Freedom of Expression,'" Al-Ahram Weekly(Cairo, Egypt), May 23, 2002, 587th edition, accessed March 20,2013, http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2002/587/re7.htm. 43 MacFarquhar, "Heavy Hand of Secret."

218




again challenged to maintain control of his countryamidst the public’s disapproval of his diplomaticstances on regional issues. With the US promising anadditional $150 million on top of the annual $460million military and economic aid it already gave toJordan, in return for support of its invasion of Iraq,King Abdullah pledged his cooperation, and began acampaign to combat public disapproval byemphasizing a focus on domestic issues to drawattention away from his foreign policy.44

Like the rest of the world, King Abdullah did notanticipate the fallout of the US invasion of Iraq,particularly the impact caused to Jordan by the massof refugees fleeing from the war zone. The number ofIraqis and their standard of living are areas of greatdebate due to the glaring lack of self-disclosure bymany Iraqi refugees in Jordan.45 Figures have beenprovided by government-contracted researchinstitutions and international humanitarian agencies,although these figures become less helpful once it isrecognized that the sample pool, which will bediscussed below, is largely unrepresentative ofJordan’s Iraqi refugee population as a whole.

To fully grasp the Iraqi refugee situation in Jordanone must make the distinction between two waves ofIraqi refugees. Despite a number of political dissentersand exiled persons fleeing to Jordan prior to the USinvasion, the first wave, which arrived shortly after the

44 Anthony Shadid, "Jordan to Allow Limited Stationing ofUS Troops," Washington Post (Amman, Jordan), January 30,2003, A10. And Jamal Halaby, "Diplomats: Jordan to OKAirspace Use," Washington Post (Amman, Jordan), January 30,2003. 45 Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugee, 37.


2003 invasion, was comprised mostly of upper-classbusinessmen and government officials who werelabeled as “Mercedes refugees” by the diplomaticcommunity, and were able to make a comfortableliving for themselves in Jordanian cities.46 A secondlarger wave came in 2005 and was made up of poorerIraqis fleeing the sectarian violence.47

The most comprehensive survey of Iraqi refugees inJordan was published in 2007 by Fafo, a Norwegianresearch company, and contains some inconsistenciesthat reflect a lack of information regarding thedisadvantaged majority of Iraqi refugees in Jordan.Sassoon explains the problematic nature of the Fafofigures: “Fafo found that among those Iraqis surveyed,56 percent had valid permits. If it was a representativesample, this would translate into at least 250,000Iraqis having legal status in Jordan, and by the time ofFafo’s survey that was definitely not the case.”48

Sassoon goes on to explain that the sample grouptargeted in the survey favors those “less vulnerableand with the right legal status,” as refugees withoutpermits and little to gain from answering surveyquestions from agencies with no power to help themout. Updated figures provided by UNHCR are available,but it is important to recognize the sample group when

46 Congressional Research Service, Iraqi Refugees andInternally Displaced Persons: A Deepening HumanitarianCrisis?, Doc. No. 7-5700, at 7 (2009). 47 Ibid. 48 Iraqis in Jordan Their Number and Characteristics(Amman, Jordan: FAFO, 2007), accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.dos.gov.jo/dos_home_a/main/Analasis_Reports/Iraqis%20in%20Jordan/Iraqis%20in%20Jordan.pdf and Sassoon,The Iraqi Refugee, 37.

219




again challenged to maintain control of his countryamidst the public’s disapproval of his diplomaticstances on regional issues. With the US promising anadditional $150 million on top of the annual $460million military and economic aid it already gave toJordan, in return for support of its invasion of Iraq,King Abdullah pledged his cooperation, and began acampaign to combat public disapproval byemphasizing a focus on domestic issues to drawattention away from his foreign policy.44

Like the rest of the world, King Abdullah did notanticipate the fallout of the US invasion of Iraq,particularly the impact caused to Jordan by the massof refugees fleeing from the war zone. The number ofIraqis and their standard of living are areas of greatdebate due to the glaring lack of self-disclosure bymany Iraqi refugees in Jordan.45 Figures have beenprovided by government-contracted researchinstitutions and international humanitarian agencies,although these figures become less helpful once it isrecognized that the sample pool, which will bediscussed below, is largely unrepresentative ofJordan’s Iraqi refugee population as a whole.

To fully grasp the Iraqi refugee situation in Jordanone must make the distinction between two waves ofIraqi refugees. Despite a number of political dissentersand exiled persons fleeing to Jordan prior to the USinvasion, the first wave, which arrived shortly after the

44 Anthony Shadid, "Jordan to Allow Limited Stationing ofUS Troops," Washington Post (Amman, Jordan), January 30,2003, A10. And Jamal Halaby, "Diplomats: Jordan to OKAirspace Use," Washington Post (Amman, Jordan), January 30,2003. 45 Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugee, 37.


2003 invasion, was comprised mostly of upper-classbusinessmen and government officials who werelabeled as “Mercedes refugees” by the diplomaticcommunity, and were able to make a comfortableliving for themselves in Jordanian cities.46 A secondlarger wave came in 2005 and was made up of poorerIraqis fleeing the sectarian violence.47

The most comprehensive survey of Iraqi refugees inJordan was published in 2007 by Fafo, a Norwegianresearch company, and contains some inconsistenciesthat reflect a lack of information regarding thedisadvantaged majority of Iraqi refugees in Jordan.Sassoon explains the problematic nature of the Fafofigures: “Fafo found that among those Iraqis surveyed,56 percent had valid permits. If it was a representativesample, this would translate into at least 250,000Iraqis having legal status in Jordan, and by the time ofFafo’s survey that was definitely not the case.”48

Sassoon goes on to explain that the sample grouptargeted in the survey favors those “less vulnerableand with the right legal status,” as refugees withoutpermits and little to gain from answering surveyquestions from agencies with no power to help themout. Updated figures provided by UNHCR are available,but it is important to recognize the sample group when

46 Congressional Research Service, Iraqi Refugees andInternally Displaced Persons: A Deepening HumanitarianCrisis?, Doc. No. 7-5700, at 7 (2009). 47 Ibid. 48 Iraqis in Jordan Their Number and Characteristics(Amman, Jordan: FAFO, 2007), accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.dos.gov.jo/dos_home_a/main/Analasis_Reports/Iraqis%20in%20Jordan/Iraqis%20in%20Jordan.pdf and Sassoon,The Iraqi Refugee, 37.

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interpreting any figures. According to the UNHCR andJordanian government figures as of January 2012,450,500 Iraqi refugees reside in Jordan, and 29,000 ofthose are assisted by the NHCR.49

The arrival of Iraqis has led to a number of tensionswithin the Hashemite Kingdom. The first wave of richIraqis began to entrench themselves in the Jordanianeconomy by buying homes, thus causing housingprices to rise.50 The second wave of very poor Iraqis isregarded as having increased the number of “blackmarket jobs” that have undercut many Jordanians’wages.51 Regardless of their culpability for the rise ininflation, which Sassoon discusses as possiblymisplaced blame, the Iraqi refugees have been singledout in the press as the cause for the sagging Jordanianeconomy.52

Additionally, many Jordanians feared that thesectarian violence plaguing Iraq would follow the Iraqirefugees into Jordan. Iraq hosts three clashing groups:Shia, Sunni, and Kurds. The Shia and Sunnis are twoIslamic sects that have fought with each other forhundreds of years over ideological differencesregarding the Islamic faith. Jordan historically had

49 "Jordan: 2013 UNHCR Country," United Nations HighCommissioner for Refugees. 50 Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugee, 49. 51 "IRAQ-JORDAN: Iraqis Cause Black Market for Jobs,"IRIN, last modified March 28, 2007, accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.irinnews.org/Report/71004/IRAQ-JORDAN-Iraqis-cause-black-market-for-jobs. 52 Ibid. and Ibrahim Saif and David M. DeBartolo, The IraqWar’s Impact on Growth and Inflation in Jordan (Amman,Jordan: University of Jordan Center for Strategic Studies, 2007),accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.carim.org/public/polsoctexts/PS2JOR028_EN.pdf.


very few Shias (about 15.6 percent of the Muslimpopulation), and feared that an influx of them into thecountry would cause problems with its Sunnimajority.53 Seen as a growing threat to his control,King Abdullah warned that the arrival of Shias inJordan could be part of a larger subversive movementby Iran to gain control in the region.54 The Mukahbarateventually began targeting Iraqi Shias for expulsionfrom the Kingdom.55 Chatelard explains that theJordanian government’s encouragement of the public’sskepticism of Iraqi Shias affected the entire Iraqirefugee population and helped them become labeled asguhraba (strangers).56 The branding of the Iraqis as the“other” helped to isolate and so frustrate any politicalaspirations the refugee group might have.

Another source of animosity felt towards the Iraqirefugees stems from the precedent set by thePalestinian refugee group. Palestinians wereuniversally welcomed into Jordan as they were viewed

53 Iraqis in Jordan Their, 6. 54 Peter Baker and Robin Wright, "Iraq, Jordan See Threat ToElection From Iran," Washington Post, December 8, 2004, A01,accessed March 20, 2013, http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A43980-2004Dec7.html. 55 World Refugee Survey 2007 (n.p.: US Committee forRefugees and Immigrants, 2007), [Page #], accessed March 20,2013,http://www.uscrirefugees.org/2010Website/5_Resources/5_5_Refugee_Warehousing/5_5_4_Archived_World_Refugee_Surveys/5_5_4_5_World_Refugee_Survey_2007/5_5_4_5_4_Country_Updates/5_5_4_5_4_2_Printable_Versions/Iran_Namibia.pdf. 56 Geraldine Chatelard, Iraqi Forced Migrants in Jordan:Conditions, Religious Networks, and the Smuggling Process(Florence, Italy: Robert Schuman Centre for Advanced Studies,European University Institute, 2002), 14-15, accessed March 20,2013, http://www.aina.org/articles/chatelard.pdf.

221




interpreting any figures. According to the UNHCR andJordanian government figures as of January 2012,450,500 Iraqi refugees reside in Jordan, and 29,000 ofthose are assisted by the NHCR.49

The arrival of Iraqis has led to a number of tensionswithin the Hashemite Kingdom. The first wave of richIraqis began to entrench themselves in the Jordanianeconomy by buying homes, thus causing housingprices to rise.50 The second wave of very poor Iraqis isregarded as having increased the number of “blackmarket jobs” that have undercut many Jordanians’wages.51 Regardless of their culpability for the rise ininflation, which Sassoon discusses as possiblymisplaced blame, the Iraqi refugees have been singledout in the press as the cause for the sagging Jordanianeconomy.52

Additionally, many Jordanians feared that thesectarian violence plaguing Iraq would follow the Iraqirefugees into Jordan. Iraq hosts three clashing groups:Shia, Sunni, and Kurds. The Shia and Sunnis are twoIslamic sects that have fought with each other forhundreds of years over ideological differencesregarding the Islamic faith. Jordan historically had

49 "Jordan: 2013 UNHCR Country," United Nations HighCommissioner for Refugees. 50 Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugee, 49. 51 "IRAQ-JORDAN: Iraqis Cause Black Market for Jobs,"IRIN, last modified March 28, 2007, accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.irinnews.org/Report/71004/IRAQ-JORDAN-Iraqis-cause-black-market-for-jobs. 52 Ibid. and Ibrahim Saif and David M. DeBartolo, The IraqWar’s Impact on Growth and Inflation in Jordan (Amman,Jordan: University of Jordan Center for Strategic Studies, 2007),accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.carim.org/public/polsoctexts/PS2JOR028_EN.pdf.


very few Shias (about 15.6 percent of the Muslimpopulation), and feared that an influx of them into thecountry would cause problems with its Sunnimajority.53 Seen as a growing threat to his control,King Abdullah warned that the arrival of Shias inJordan could be part of a larger subversive movementby Iran to gain control in the region.54 The Mukahbarateventually began targeting Iraqi Shias for expulsionfrom the Kingdom.55 Chatelard explains that theJordanian government’s encouragement of the public’sskepticism of Iraqi Shias affected the entire Iraqirefugee population and helped them become labeled asguhraba (strangers).56 The branding of the Iraqis as the“other” helped to isolate and so frustrate any politicalaspirations the refugee group might have.

Another source of animosity felt towards the Iraqirefugees stems from the precedent set by thePalestinian refugee group. Palestinians wereuniversally welcomed into Jordan as they were viewed

53 Iraqis in Jordan Their, 6. 54 Peter Baker and Robin Wright, "Iraq, Jordan See Threat ToElection From Iran," Washington Post, December 8, 2004, A01,accessed March 20, 2013, http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A43980-2004Dec7.html. 55 World Refugee Survey 2007 (n.p.: US Committee forRefugees and Immigrants, 2007), [Page #], accessed March 20,2013,http://www.uscrirefugees.org/2010Website/5_Resources/5_5_Refugee_Warehousing/5_5_4_Archived_World_Refugee_Surveys/5_5_4_5_World_Refugee_Survey_2007/5_5_4_5_4_Country_Updates/5_5_4_5_4_2_Printable_Versions/Iran_Namibia.pdf. 56 Geraldine Chatelard, Iraqi Forced Migrants in Jordan:Conditions, Religious Networks, and the Smuggling Process(Florence, Italy: Robert Schuman Centre for Advanced Studies,European University Institute, 2002), 14-15, accessed March 20,2013, http://www.aina.org/articles/chatelard.pdf.

222




as victims of the unprovoked aggression of Israel; butthe immovability of the Palestinian refugee populationhas made Jordanians wary of what might happen withthe Iraqi situation.57 This fear was confirmed by aUNHCR report in 2009 that revealed that a shocking92 percent of Iraqi refugees in Jordan have nointention of returning to Iraq.58 These figures wereespecially worrisome given that a large portion of thesurvey pool, 630 of the 1118 interviewed, may not havebeen registered with the UNHCR. Given theanonymous nature of the survey, these findings areparticularly important given their insight on previouslyunderreported segments of the Iraqi population inJordan. The report goes on to list the reasons offeredby participants for not wanting to return to Iraq.However, most important is the reality that the Iraqirefugee population continues, with each passing year,to become a more permanent aspect of Jordaniansociety.

King Abdullah’s treatment of Iraqi refugees beganto resemble the treatment, decades earlier, of thePalestinian population that experienced government-approved alienation, little political involvement, heavycensorship by the Mukabarat, and an obscuring oftheir national heritage. King Abdullah, having learnedfrom both his father’s and his own experience with thePalestinians, began to implement policies to managethe arriving Iraqi refugees. By publicly blaming Iraqisfor economic and religious subversion, King Abdullah’s

57 Ibid., 8. 58 Summary: Intention to Return to Iraq Inquiries of 2008 &2009 (Amman, Jordan: UNHCR, 2009), 1, accessed March 20,2013, http://www.unhcr.org/4acb0e429.html.


regime tried to mute any sympathy for Iraqi refugeesby encouraging discrimination against Iraqis acrosseconomic, racial, and religious grounds.

It is difficult to reconcile Jordan’s harsh treatmentof its refugee populations with its history of willingnessto host displaced peoples. One explanation can befound in the Fafo report. Earlier, the Fafo report wasshown to reflect embellished figures regarding the Iraqirefugees in Jordan, but the nature of the report ismore problematic because the Jordanian governmentcontracted Fafo and then delayed publication of itsfindings for six months to negotiate the final figures.59

One diplomat indicated that the delay was to adjustthe figures with the ultimate goal being to securegreater aid for Jordan.60 The financial incentive offeredto countries that host refugee populations explainsKing Abdullah’s willingness to accept refugees despitethe challenges they present to his Kingdom’s stability.

King Abdullah has long relied on Jordan’s non-signatory status of the 1951 UN Convention as ameans to leverage his power over arriving refugees.Unlike the Palestinian refugees who, under theconstitution, at least, are afforded rights of citizenshipand political participation, the post-2003 Iraqi refugeesenjoy no such benefits due to their lack of citizenship.The likelihood of citizenship being granted to mostIraqis remains fleeting, as the Jordanian government

59 Patricia Weiss Fagen, Iraqi Refugees: Seeking Stability inSyria and Jordan (n.p.: Institute for the Study of InternationalMigration Georgetown University, 2009), 7-8, accessed March20, 2013,http://www12.georgetown.edu/sfs/qatar/cirs/PatriciaFagenCIRSOccasionalPaper2009.pdf. 60 Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugees, 38.

223




as victims of the unprovoked aggression of Israel; butthe immovability of the Palestinian refugee populationhas made Jordanians wary of what might happen withthe Iraqi situation.57 This fear was confirmed by aUNHCR report in 2009 that revealed that a shocking92 percent of Iraqi refugees in Jordan have nointention of returning to Iraq.58 These figures wereespecially worrisome given that a large portion of thesurvey pool, 630 of the 1118 interviewed, may not havebeen registered with the UNHCR. Given theanonymous nature of the survey, these findings areparticularly important given their insight on previouslyunderreported segments of the Iraqi population inJordan. The report goes on to list the reasons offeredby participants for not wanting to return to Iraq.However, most important is the reality that the Iraqirefugee population continues, with each passing year,to become a more permanent aspect of Jordaniansociety.

King Abdullah’s treatment of Iraqi refugees beganto resemble the treatment, decades earlier, of thePalestinian population that experienced government-approved alienation, little political involvement, heavycensorship by the Mukabarat, and an obscuring oftheir national heritage. King Abdullah, having learnedfrom both his father’s and his own experience with thePalestinians, began to implement policies to managethe arriving Iraqi refugees. By publicly blaming Iraqisfor economic and religious subversion, King Abdullah’s

57 Ibid., 8. 58 Summary: Intention to Return to Iraq Inquiries of 2008 &2009 (Amman, Jordan: UNHCR, 2009), 1, accessed March 20,2013, http://www.unhcr.org/4acb0e429.html.


regime tried to mute any sympathy for Iraqi refugeesby encouraging discrimination against Iraqis acrosseconomic, racial, and religious grounds.

It is difficult to reconcile Jordan’s harsh treatmentof its refugee populations with its history of willingnessto host displaced peoples. One explanation can befound in the Fafo report. Earlier, the Fafo report wasshown to reflect embellished figures regarding the Iraqirefugees in Jordan, but the nature of the report ismore problematic because the Jordanian governmentcontracted Fafo and then delayed publication of itsfindings for six months to negotiate the final figures.59

One diplomat indicated that the delay was to adjustthe figures with the ultimate goal being to securegreater aid for Jordan.60 The financial incentive offeredto countries that host refugee populations explainsKing Abdullah’s willingness to accept refugees despitethe challenges they present to his Kingdom’s stability.

King Abdullah has long relied on Jordan’s non-signatory status of the 1951 UN Convention as ameans to leverage his power over arriving refugees.Unlike the Palestinian refugees who, under theconstitution, at least, are afforded rights of citizenshipand political participation, the post-2003 Iraqi refugeesenjoy no such benefits due to their lack of citizenship.The likelihood of citizenship being granted to mostIraqis remains fleeting, as the Jordanian government

59 Patricia Weiss Fagen, Iraqi Refugees: Seeking Stability inSyria and Jordan (n.p.: Institute for the Study of InternationalMigration Georgetown University, 2009), 7-8, accessed March20, 2013,http://www12.georgetown.edu/sfs/qatar/cirs/PatriciaFagenCIRSOccasionalPaper2009.pdf. 60 Sassoon, The Iraqi Refugees, 38.

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continues to deny them rights granted to refugeesunder the 1951 UN Convention, and characterizes thegroup as “illegal immigrants.”61

Having effectively neutralized Iraqi political activitythrough the denial of citizenship or refugee rights,King Abdullah has recognized the possibility of an Iraqibacklash in the form of protest or violence. As was hissolution to the Palestinian problem, King Abdullah hasturned to his loyal Mukhabarat to monitor the Iraqisand quell any possible Iraqi insurgency. One productof this policy is to deny Iraqis the ability to congregatein mass gatherings, with an exception being made forfunerals.62 A source of great consternation for manymiddle class educated Iraqis who arrived in 2005 is thelow-level positions they are forced to take despite theirprofessional experience. Sassoon explains that manyengineers and doctors who were top specialists in theirfields in Iraq are being forced to work below theirqualifications and for meager pay.63 The preferentialtreatment of Jordanians over many highly qualifiedIraqis is in line with the King’s assurance to hisTransjordanian constituents of financial reward inreturn for their political support.

Amidst growing turmoil over the 2000 Intifada, the2001 suspension of Parliament, and the impending USinvasion of Iraq, King Abdullah launched the al-UrdunAwwalan, or “Jordan First,” campaign. With turmoil inthe region at an all-time high, King Abdullahembarked on a campaign to consolidate support forJordan, and his crown, by emphasizing Jordan’s own

61 Ibid., 52. 62 Ibid., 53. 63 Ibid., 47.


domestic problems over those of the Middle Eastregion. Greenwood explains that the purpose of theJordan First campaign was to quiet “domesticchallenges generated by regional politicaldevelopments.”64 The Jordan First constitution on theJordanian Royal website makes it clear that allegianceto Jordan must come before religious, ethnic, andother differences.65 King Abdullah’s maneuvering canbe best understood in terms of his highest priority,which is to preserve his control over the Kingdom. Thepurpose of the Jordan First campaign was to shiftJordanian consciousness away from the King’sunpopular position regarding Israel and the US, sothat he could continue to secure vital aid for domesticsocio-economic issues that appealed to theunderrepresented and marginalized groups of Jordan.The economic project championed by Jordan First isthe Socio-Economic Transformation Plan (SETP). Inreturn for King Abdullah’s pledge of support, and toensure the success of his domestic campaign, the USpledged a total of $395.5 million in the first two yearsof SETP.66 Though Greenwood notes that Jordan Firstfailed to truly deliver improvement to the Iraqis orPalestinians, “the vast majority of this new spendingwas to take place in rural areas where most of theregime’s Transjordanian political base resides.”67 In

64 Greenwood, "Jordan’s ‘New Bargain:’ The Political," 265. 65 Jordan Armed Forces, last modified 2010, accessed March20, 2013, http://jaf.mil.jo/Ar/History.aspx?CategoryID=7. 66 "JORDAN: $145.5 MILLION OF US GRANT EXTENDED TOSETP," Jordan Times (Amman, Jordan), January 27, 2003, [Page#], accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1G1-96897273.html. 67 Greenwood, "Jordan’s ‘New Bargain:’ The Political," 266.

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continues to deny them rights granted to refugeesunder the 1951 UN Convention, and characterizes thegroup as “illegal immigrants.”61

Having effectively neutralized Iraqi political activitythrough the denial of citizenship or refugee rights,King Abdullah has recognized the possibility of an Iraqibacklash in the form of protest or violence. As was hissolution to the Palestinian problem, King Abdullah hasturned to his loyal Mukhabarat to monitor the Iraqisand quell any possible Iraqi insurgency. One productof this policy is to deny Iraqis the ability to congregatein mass gatherings, with an exception being made forfunerals.62 A source of great consternation for manymiddle class educated Iraqis who arrived in 2005 is thelow-level positions they are forced to take despite theirprofessional experience. Sassoon explains that manyengineers and doctors who were top specialists in theirfields in Iraq are being forced to work below theirqualifications and for meager pay.63 The preferentialtreatment of Jordanians over many highly qualifiedIraqis is in line with the King’s assurance to hisTransjordanian constituents of financial reward inreturn for their political support.

Amidst growing turmoil over the 2000 Intifada, the2001 suspension of Parliament, and the impending USinvasion of Iraq, King Abdullah launched the al-UrdunAwwalan, or “Jordan First,” campaign. With turmoil inthe region at an all-time high, King Abdullahembarked on a campaign to consolidate support forJordan, and his crown, by emphasizing Jordan’s own

61 Ibid., 52. 62 Ibid., 53. 63 Ibid., 47.


domestic problems over those of the Middle Eastregion. Greenwood explains that the purpose of theJordan First campaign was to quiet “domesticchallenges generated by regional politicaldevelopments.”64 The Jordan First constitution on theJordanian Royal website makes it clear that allegianceto Jordan must come before religious, ethnic, andother differences.65 King Abdullah’s maneuvering canbe best understood in terms of his highest priority,which is to preserve his control over the Kingdom. Thepurpose of the Jordan First campaign was to shiftJordanian consciousness away from the King’sunpopular position regarding Israel and the US, sothat he could continue to secure vital aid for domesticsocio-economic issues that appealed to theunderrepresented and marginalized groups of Jordan.The economic project championed by Jordan First isthe Socio-Economic Transformation Plan (SETP). Inreturn for King Abdullah’s pledge of support, and toensure the success of his domestic campaign, the USpledged a total of $395.5 million in the first two yearsof SETP.66 Though Greenwood notes that Jordan Firstfailed to truly deliver improvement to the Iraqis orPalestinians, “the vast majority of this new spendingwas to take place in rural areas where most of theregime’s Transjordanian political base resides.”67 In

64 Greenwood, "Jordan’s ‘New Bargain:’ The Political," 265. 65 Jordan Armed Forces, last modified 2010, accessed March20, 2013, http://jaf.mil.jo/Ar/History.aspx?CategoryID=7. 66 "JORDAN: $145.5 MILLION OF US GRANT EXTENDED TOSETP," Jordan Times (Amman, Jordan), January 27, 2003, [Page#], accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1G1-96897273.html. 67 Greenwood, "Jordan’s ‘New Bargain:’ The Political," 266.

226




2005 a probe into the expenditures of SETP launcheda controversy, the result of which the King ultimatelyordered the program closed so as to avoid furtherunrest.68 Despite the major questions surrounding itscentral financial policy, the Jordan First campaignremains a central message of King Abdullah’s regime,as he continues to stress devotion to his throne aboveall else.

Implications for Syrian Refugees

Having discussed King Abdullah’s past responsesto the challenges posed by the Palestinian and Iraqirefugee populations, the arrival of a third refugeegroup, namely the Syrians, provides a new, yetfamiliar, set of problems for the King’s regime. TheUNHCR reports as of March 13, 2013 state the Syrianpopulation in Jordan as 289,268.69 Additionally,according to Jordanian officials, the country spent$600 million in 2012 supporting Syrian refugees.70

Jordan, which is already battling a budget deficit,

68 Sufyan Alissa, Rethinking Economic Reform in Jordan:Confronting Socioeconomic Realities, report no. 7 (WashingtonDC, United States: Carnegie Middle East Center, 2007), 14,accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.carnegieendowment.org/files/cmec4_alissa_jordan_final.pdf. 69 "Syrian Regional Refugee Response," UNHCR, lastmodified 2013, accessed March 20, 2013,http://data.unhcr.org/syrianrefugees/regional.php 70 "Jordan Reels Over Syrian Refugee Crisis," Al-JazeeraMiddle East, last modified January 25, 2013, accessed March20, 2013,http://www.aljazeera.com/news/middleeast/2013/01/201312414346170182.html.


claims that the refugee influx causes an enormousstrain on the country’s already meager water, food,and healthcare supplies.71 Despite its massive size, theSyrian refugees are relatively new to Jordan, andcomprehensive studies examining this group’s impacton Jordan have yet to be completed. However, as onemight imagine, Jordan can expect the Syrian elementto pose ethnic, nationalist, and economic challengesmuch like its Palestinian and Iraqi predecessors.

The arrival of the Syrian masses has prompted KingAbdullah to once again rely on his tribal power base,parliamentary control, and the Mukhabarat. Yet indealing with the Syrians, King Abdullah has begun todemonstrate a clear departure from his treatment ofprevious refugee groups in Jordan. ThroughParliament’s past legislation of refugee law, along withthe usual assistance of the Transjordanian citizenryand the Mukhabarat, King Abdullah has isolated themajority of the Syrian refugee population in refugeecamps, preventing any interaction that could fomentsocial unrest in the Kingdom. Pelham notes the shift inpolicy towards the Syrian arrivals: “Initially Jordanfollowed Lebanon, in allowing refugees to mingle freelywith the local population. But as the influx intensified,Jordan adopted Turkey’s approach of erecting vastinternment camps […].”72 The largest of the Syrian

71 Ahmad Khatib, "Syrian Refugees Taxing Jordan's SkimpyWater Supply," Mother Nature Network, last modified June 1,2012, accessed March 20, 2013, http://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/wilderness-resources/stories/syrian-refugees-taxing-jordans-skimpy-water-supply. 72 Nicolas Pelham, "Jordan’s Syria Problem," The New YorkReview of Books, last modified January 10, 2013, accessedMarch 20, 2013,

227




2005 a probe into the expenditures of SETP launcheda controversy, the result of which the King ultimatelyordered the program closed so as to avoid furtherunrest.68 Despite the major questions surrounding itscentral financial policy, the Jordan First campaignremains a central message of King Abdullah’s regime,as he continues to stress devotion to his throne aboveall else.

Implications for Syrian Refugees

Having discussed King Abdullah’s past responsesto the challenges posed by the Palestinian and Iraqirefugee populations, the arrival of a third refugeegroup, namely the Syrians, provides a new, yetfamiliar, set of problems for the King’s regime. TheUNHCR reports as of March 13, 2013 state the Syrianpopulation in Jordan as 289,268.69 Additionally,according to Jordanian officials, the country spent$600 million in 2012 supporting Syrian refugees.70

Jordan, which is already battling a budget deficit,

68 Sufyan Alissa, Rethinking Economic Reform in Jordan:Confronting Socioeconomic Realities, report no. 7 (WashingtonDC, United States: Carnegie Middle East Center, 2007), 14,accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.carnegieendowment.org/files/cmec4_alissa_jordan_final.pdf. 69 "Syrian Regional Refugee Response," UNHCR, lastmodified 2013, accessed March 20, 2013,http://data.unhcr.org/syrianrefugees/regional.php 70 "Jordan Reels Over Syrian Refugee Crisis," Al-JazeeraMiddle East, last modified January 25, 2013, accessed March20, 2013,http://www.aljazeera.com/news/middleeast/2013/01/201312414346170182.html.


claims that the refugee influx causes an enormousstrain on the country’s already meager water, food,and healthcare supplies.71 Despite its massive size, theSyrian refugees are relatively new to Jordan, andcomprehensive studies examining this group’s impacton Jordan have yet to be completed. However, as onemight imagine, Jordan can expect the Syrian elementto pose ethnic, nationalist, and economic challengesmuch like its Palestinian and Iraqi predecessors.

The arrival of the Syrian masses has prompted KingAbdullah to once again rely on his tribal power base,parliamentary control, and the Mukhabarat. Yet indealing with the Syrians, King Abdullah has begun todemonstrate a clear departure from his treatment ofprevious refugee groups in Jordan. ThroughParliament’s past legislation of refugee law, along withthe usual assistance of the Transjordanian citizenryand the Mukhabarat, King Abdullah has isolated themajority of the Syrian refugee population in refugeecamps, preventing any interaction that could fomentsocial unrest in the Kingdom. Pelham notes the shift inpolicy towards the Syrian arrivals: “Initially Jordanfollowed Lebanon, in allowing refugees to mingle freelywith the local population. But as the influx intensified,Jordan adopted Turkey’s approach of erecting vastinternment camps […].”72 The largest of the Syrian

71 Ahmad Khatib, "Syrian Refugees Taxing Jordan's SkimpyWater Supply," Mother Nature Network, last modified June 1,2012, accessed March 20, 2013, http://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/wilderness-resources/stories/syrian-refugees-taxing-jordans-skimpy-water-supply. 72 Nicolas Pelham, "Jordan’s Syria Problem," The New YorkReview of Books, last modified January 10, 2013, accessedMarch 20, 2013,

228




refugee camps in Jordan is Zaatri, with a population of80,000 as of February 20, 2013.73 King Abdullahrecognized that the inherent pitfall of both thePalestinian and Iraqi refugees was that, once theymoved into cities, it was hard to move them out.Therefore, the King modified his refugee approach topreemptively deny urbanization, and isolate the Syrianpopulation, before they had the opportunity to insertthemselves into Jordanian society. King Abdullah haspublicly stated that the reason for Syrian internmentis to quarantine any arriving Islamists—a groupforming the core of the Syrian resistancemovement—and to prevent the spread of their ideologyto Jordan.74 With Islamist movements winningdemocratic elections throughout the Middle East,including Egypt and Tunisia, King Abdullah is justifiedin viewing the group as a legitimate threat to hisregime.

Playing a large role in the containment of theSyrians are the Transjordanian “tribal forces” whichare charged with establishing a “buffer zone” alongJordan’s border with southern Syria, their positionmeant to “block the passage of Islamist fighters into

http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2013/jan/10/jordans-syria-problem/. 73 Suleiman Al-Khalidi, "Syrian Refugees Pour South toJordan in Nightly Exodus," Reuters, last modified February 20,2013, accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.reuters.com/article/2013/02/20/us-syria-crisis-border-idUSBRE91J0WU20130220. 74 Pelham, "Jordan’s Syria Problem," The New York Review ofBooks. And for more on the Islamist movement see Line Khatib,“Syria’s Islamic Movement and the Current Uprising: PoliticalAcquiescence, Quietism, and Dissent,” Jadaliyya, February 21,2012.


the kingdom.”75 Additionally, King Abdullah has reliedon the Mukhbarat to augment his containment policytowards the Syrian refugees. Syrians that managed toavoid internment in the refugee camps, or werepreviously in Jordan, live in constant fear of beingrounded-up by the Mukhbarat. One woman evenexpressed a fear of taking her children to the park outof concern that the Mukhbarat might arrest her andsend her to a camp.76

The Syrian example demonstrates the essence ofKing Abdullah’s refugee policy: the use ofparliamentary control, the tribal power base, and theMukhbarat to contain and control refugee populations,and to assure continued monarchial rule, whilesimultaneously allowing Jordan to collect internationalaid for refugee relief. With Jordan already receiving aidfrom the West and from the Arab Gulf States forrefugee support, President Obama’s FY2013 requestfor an additional $663.7 million demonstrates themagnitude of such financial assistance.77

The practice of playing host to refugee populationshas proven profitable for King Abdullah’s regime. Theflow of cash into Jordan, intended to allay theeconomic and infrastructural impact of the refugees,has most likely been mismanaged along with much ofthe government funds in Jordan. In 2010, the FinanceMinister along with a number of top officials wererelieved of their offices amidst an investigation into

75 Pelham, "Jordan’s Syria Problem," The New York Review ofBooks. 76 Ibid. 77 Congressional Research Service, Jordan: Background andU.S. Relations, Doc. No. 7-5700, at 19 (2012). Accessed March20, 2013. http://www.fas.org/sgp/crs/mideast/RL33546.pdf.

229




refugee camps in Jordan is Zaatri, with a population of80,000 as of February 20, 2013.73 King Abdullahrecognized that the inherent pitfall of both thePalestinian and Iraqi refugees was that, once theymoved into cities, it was hard to move them out.Therefore, the King modified his refugee approach topreemptively deny urbanization, and isolate the Syrianpopulation, before they had the opportunity to insertthemselves into Jordanian society. King Abdullah haspublicly stated that the reason for Syrian internmentis to quarantine any arriving Islamists—a groupforming the core of the Syrian resistancemovement—and to prevent the spread of their ideologyto Jordan.74 With Islamist movements winningdemocratic elections throughout the Middle East,including Egypt and Tunisia, King Abdullah is justifiedin viewing the group as a legitimate threat to hisregime.

Playing a large role in the containment of theSyrians are the Transjordanian “tribal forces” whichare charged with establishing a “buffer zone” alongJordan’s border with southern Syria, their positionmeant to “block the passage of Islamist fighters into

http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2013/jan/10/jordans-syria-problem/. 73 Suleiman Al-Khalidi, "Syrian Refugees Pour South toJordan in Nightly Exodus," Reuters, last modified February 20,2013, accessed March 20, 2013,http://www.reuters.com/article/2013/02/20/us-syria-crisis-border-idUSBRE91J0WU20130220. 74 Pelham, "Jordan’s Syria Problem," The New York Review ofBooks. And for more on the Islamist movement see Line Khatib,“Syria’s Islamic Movement and the Current Uprising: PoliticalAcquiescence, Quietism, and Dissent,” Jadaliyya, February 21,2012.


the kingdom.”75 Additionally, King Abdullah has reliedon the Mukhbarat to augment his containment policytowards the Syrian refugees. Syrians that managed toavoid internment in the refugee camps, or werepreviously in Jordan, live in constant fear of beingrounded-up by the Mukhbarat. One woman evenexpressed a fear of taking her children to the park outof concern that the Mukhbarat might arrest her andsend her to a camp.76

The Syrian example demonstrates the essence ofKing Abdullah’s refugee policy: the use ofparliamentary control, the tribal power base, and theMukhbarat to contain and control refugee populations,and to assure continued monarchial rule, whilesimultaneously allowing Jordan to collect internationalaid for refugee relief. With Jordan already receiving aidfrom the West and from the Arab Gulf States forrefugee support, President Obama’s FY2013 requestfor an additional $663.7 million demonstrates themagnitude of such financial assistance.77

The practice of playing host to refugee populationshas proven profitable for King Abdullah’s regime. Theflow of cash into Jordan, intended to allay theeconomic and infrastructural impact of the refugees,has most likely been mismanaged along with much ofthe government funds in Jordan. In 2010, the FinanceMinister along with a number of top officials wererelieved of their offices amidst an investigation into

75 Pelham, "Jordan’s Syria Problem," The New York Review ofBooks. 76 Ibid. 77 Congressional Research Service, Jordan: Background andU.S. Relations, Doc. No. 7-5700, at 19 (2012). Accessed March20, 2013. http://www.fas.org/sgp/crs/mideast/RL33546.pdf.

230




mismanaged funds that involved a petroleum official,Ahmed al-Rifa’i, who was related to then-PrimeMinister Samir Rifa’i.78 The officials were characterizedas, “[…] well-connected people, many fromTransjordanian rather than Palestinian origin.”79 Casesof corruption amongst top Transjordanian governmentofficials, siphoning funds, much of which wereintended for Palestinian and Iraqi refugee populations,have only worsened inter-cultural Jordanian relations.Furthermore, the case of Toujan Al-Faisaldemonstrates King Abdullah’s unwillingness to permitwhistleblowers, and indicates his ambivalence, or evenparticipation in corruption.80

It is reasonable to infer, given both the corruptionof King Abdullah II’s regime, and the massive amountof refugee relief aid managed by the Jordaniangovernment, that the acceptance of refugeepopulations is profitable to the King. The relief aid isessential to economically pacify his Transjordanianconstituents. A simplified description of King AbdullahII’s refugee approach can be characterized as follows:with the corrupt channeling of international relief aidproviding incentive for the acceptance of refugeepopulations, the King’s concern for the challenges and

78 Marc Lynch, "Going after Jordan's Al Capone?," ForeignPolicy, March 10, 2012, accessed March 20, 2013,http://lynch.foreignpolicy.com/posts/2010/03/10/a_rare_crackdown_on_corruption_in_jordan. 79 Ibid. 80 "'A Sad Day for Freedom of Expression,'" Al-Ahram Weekly(Cairo, Egypt), May 23, 2002, 587th edition, accessed March 20,2013, http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2002/587/re7.htm.


tensions provided by each refugee group has led himto develop an approach which he has, over time,adapted in order to mitigate the impacts that refugeegroups have on the kingdom. The Syrians, as Jordan’snewest refugee group, have elicited a newly adaptedresponse from King Abdullah resulting in their rigidsegregation from Jordanian society. However, theKing’s strategy of reliance on his tribal power base,parliamentary control, and the Mukhabarat remainunchanged in his struggle to maintain his throne.

Kevin Laymoun gravitated towards the discipline ofHistory because of his interests in the Middle Eastregion. Having a father from the region, Kevin wasmotivated to learn more about the cultural context of thepeople and the land. His fascination with his area ofstudy led him to travel abroad to Amman, Jordan.During his semester in Jordan, Kevin began to identifythe political structures that would eventually form thebasis of his thesis. Kevin hopes to attend law school inthe coming years, but one day hopes to return to Jordanto observe its ever-contentious political landscape.

231




mismanaged funds that involved a petroleum official,Ahmed al-Rifa’i, who was related to then-PrimeMinister Samir Rifa’i.78 The officials were characterizedas, “[…] well-connected people, many fromTransjordanian rather than Palestinian origin.”79 Casesof corruption amongst top Transjordanian governmentofficials, siphoning funds, much of which wereintended for Palestinian and Iraqi refugee populations,have only worsened inter-cultural Jordanian relations.Furthermore, the case of Toujan Al-Faisaldemonstrates King Abdullah’s unwillingness to permitwhistleblowers, and indicates his ambivalence, or evenparticipation in corruption.80

It is reasonable to infer, given both the corruptionof King Abdullah II’s regime, and the massive amountof refugee relief aid managed by the Jordaniangovernment, that the acceptance of refugeepopulations is profitable to the King. The relief aid isessential to economically pacify his Transjordanianconstituents. A simplified description of King AbdullahII’s refugee approach can be characterized as follows:with the corrupt channeling of international relief aidproviding incentive for the acceptance of refugeepopulations, the King’s concern for the challenges and

78 Marc Lynch, "Going after Jordan's Al Capone?," ForeignPolicy, March 10, 2012, accessed March 20, 2013,http://lynch.foreignpolicy.com/posts/2010/03/10/a_rare_crackdown_on_corruption_in_jordan. 79 Ibid. 80 "'A Sad Day for Freedom of Expression,'" Al-Ahram Weekly(Cairo, Egypt), May 23, 2002, 587th edition, accessed March 20,2013, http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2002/587/re7.htm.


tensions provided by each refugee group has led himto develop an approach which he has, over time,adapted in order to mitigate the impacts that refugeegroups have on the kingdom. The Syrians, as Jordan’snewest refugee group, have elicited a newly adaptedresponse from King Abdullah resulting in their rigidsegregation from Jordanian society. However, theKing’s strategy of reliance on his tribal power base,parliamentary control, and the Mukhabarat remainunchanged in his struggle to maintain his throne.

Kevin Laymoun gravitated towards the discipline ofHistory because of his interests in the Middle Eastregion. Having a father from the region, Kevin wasmotivated to learn more about the cultural context of thepeople and the land. His fascination with his area ofstudy led him to travel abroad to Amman, Jordan.During his semester in Jordan, Kevin began to identifythe political structures that would eventually form thebasis of his thesis. Kevin hopes to attend law school inthe coming years, but one day hopes to return to Jordanto observe its ever-contentious political landscape.

232



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